“Surrender”
John 6:1-21
Todd Buegler
June 29, 30 & 31, 2006
Lord of Life
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, and from Jesus, the Son of God, who is the Bread of Life! Amen.
We all have old stories that we love to share with our family and friends. When you get together with these people, at a holiday, or an event, you can count on the fact that sooner or later the conversation will get around to an old, favorite story which begins with “Do you remember when we…” and people will immediately start to groan or to laugh. We all have these stories…they never get old…no matter how many times we’ve heard them, we love to tell them, we love to hear them…
For example, when I get together with my college friends, we inevitably get around to the “sod story.” We lived in a dorm with 6 small, single rooms, surrounding a living room and a bathroom. Groups of friends would get one of these “sections” together. One weekend in the spring, one of our sections mates left for the weekend and forgot to lock the door to his room. That’s like an invitation for trouble. The college was finishing up a large construction project on campus right around then and laying sod in front of the building next door to our dorm. There were hundreds of rolls of sod just lying around. Mistake. When our friend returned to campus, he opened his room to find that his room had been completely sodded with beautiful new green turf, complete with a small sign that said “please keep off the grass. That story gets told over and over again. Why? Because this story makes us laugh. But even more, because the story captures the essence of our friendships.
Well, the gospel story for today is just this kind of story. It is an old favorite about Jesus and his disciples, which has been told over and over again. There are many of these kind of Bible stories. They are all told only one time in the gospels. The story of the Good Samaritan: told only once; the story of the Prodigal Son: told only once. The story of the Sheep and the Goats: told only once. These are favorite, great stories, but they are told only once in our Gospel.
But our story for today, about the five loaves and two fish, is told four times in the Bible. In fact, it is the only Gospel miracle which is told in its fullness in all four Gospels.
Now, why is this story told over and over again? I believe it is because this story captures the truth, the essence of all the people involved; the essential truth about Jesus and the essential truth about the disciples and the essential truth about God.
So I would like to tell you this story again, but this time, include elements from the other Gospel versions of the story and some other local history.
It was springtime in Israel. The rains of March and April had come and the land was now fresh and green. The brown hills had soaked up the spring rains and the flowers were blooming and the hills were green again.
It was Passover time in Israel. Passover was their great religious feast, like Easter is for us. That meant a holiday from school, and a holiday from work. That meant that people were taking trips, packing their donkeys and going on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. It was a time of religious aliveness, of fasting and feasting and traveling.
It was popularity time for Jesus. Jesus had healed people of their diseases, had spoken before thousands, and his popularity was becoming enormous. Though he didn’t seek the limelight, he was like a rock star, and thousands would gather wherever he was.
But it was also tragedy time in Israel. According to the Gospel of Matthew, John the Baptist had just been beheaded by king Herod. John the Baptist was the greatest moral and spiritual force, and the greatest prophet the land of Israel had experienced for four hundred years. Everyone was stunned by this tragedy and grieved the loss. This included Jesus, who was John’s cousin, and who John had baptized.
Jesus wanted to get away by himself to grieve, to pray, to remember. He wanted to get away to a lonely place and so he got into a boat to sail across The Sea of Galilee to a remote point, some four miles away, in order to get away from the massive crowds who were following him, to be alone, and grieve the loss of John the Baptist.
But the crowds could see from the shore where he was sailing to. And so the crowds, like “groupies”, followed along the shoreline, keeping an eye on his boat, and so when Jesus’ boat landed, many of the crowd had already arrived.
And what was Jesus’ reaction to the thousands who had shown up? Irritated? Angry? Imposed upon? No, he looked on the massive crowd with compassion, like they were sheep without a shepherd, like people who were in need of feeding for their spiritual hungers inside. And so he taught them, and he healed them.
The day quickly passed. One of the disciples said “Lord, the hour is late and the people don’t have any food and we are a long way from any villages. Maybe you should send them home now.” According to John’s version of the story, Jesus said to Philip, “How are we going to buy bread, so that the people can eat?” Jesus knew the answer. He asked this in order to test Philip. Philip replied “It would take more than two hundered denari, more than two hundred days of wages, and even that wouldn’t be enough bread to feed all these people.” Jesus said, “Look around the crowd and see what you can find.” Andrew found a young boy with five loaves of bread and two fish. The boy gave the fish and bread to Jesus. Jesus invited everyone to be seated on the green grass. Jesus took the bread…looked up into heaven…gave thanks…broke it…gave it to his disciples…who gave it to the crowds. And they all ate and were all satisfied…and…there were twelve baskets of bread left over. The number who ate were five thousand men, plus women and children.
This story was told over and over again in the gospels. But there is a sequel: A few days later, Jesus was again out in the wilderness, again with a large crowd of four thousand men plus women and children and the same story happens again. This time seven loaves and a few fish were found. And everyone ate and everyone was satisfied…and…there were seven baskets of bread left over.
And then comes the final twist to the story. Jesus and his disciples got into a boat and sailed back again across The Sea of Galilee. As they arrived in the boat, the disciples began discussing quietly among themselves, out of earshot of Jesus, “Who brought the bread? Did anyone bring any bread for lunch?” And Jesus, knowing their thoughts, asked them: “Don’t you get it? Don’t you understand? Are you so hard headed? Are you so hard hearted? You just saw the feeding of the five thousand and twelve baskets of bread were left over. You just saw the feeding of the four thousand and seven baskets of bread were left over. Don’t you get it about who I am? Don’t you get the abundant generosity of God? Don’t you get it that God will take care of you in your needs? Don’t you understand what is possible? Don’t you get it, even after you have personally seen these miracles?
This story captures the essence of all of the people involved. That’s why it was told over and over again. This story captures the very essence of Jesus as the wondrous Son of God. It captures the very essence of God, in God’s abundant and extravagant generosity and grace. And it captures the very essence of his disciples, who don’t get it, even after we have seen first hand, God’s miraculous work in our lives.
At the heart of the story is a little boy who brought his meager gifts to Jesus, his five loaves and two fish, and look what mighty miracles God did with them. And God wants to do the same with us; that we bring our meager gifts to God, our meager and ordinary talents and gifts, we bring the simplicity of who we are to God, and look what mighty miracles God can do with our little lives.
The Greek word John used when the boy gave the fish and bread to Jesus translates to “surrendered.” This is the key to the story for me. The little boy surrendered his meager gifts to Christ. At the heart of the story for us is the implied invitation for us to surrender our little gifts, the gift of our lives to Christ and then to see what mighty miracles God can do in and through us. That’s what God wants from you and me, to surrender, to give the gifts of our meager lives to him.
This story is a story of transformation, of change. Jesus changed the attitude and understanding of the disciples. And in this story, God is working to change something in ourselves. To be honest, we are people who want to be in control of our own lives. We want to own…we want to possess…we want to set the agenda. But God asks us to allow the Holy Spirit to change us; to surrender ourselves to God.
To surrender literally means to give up or give back something that has been granted. God calls us to take our simple, meager gifts and to give them back to Him. God calls on us to trust that His grace really is sufficient for us.
The last twist the story is what really speaks to me: The disciples personally witnessed the feeding of the five thousand, then witnessed the feeding of the four thousand, and then when they were alone, facing their own need, they asked the question among themselves: “Who brought stuff for lunch? Who brought bread?” They didn’t get it. They saw miracles for others but didn’t understand it for themselves.
So often, I am just like that. I see the miracles of God first hand. I saw the attic where a family survived Hurricane Katrina…it was, quite simply, a miracle. I have seen people who lived in complete poverty, living in shacks on garbage heaps, lifted out of poverty by the Grace of God through the work of volunteers. I see God’s miracles. I see signs of God working and intervening in the world…in your lives, and then I still question God’s existence and intervention in my own life. Does this ring a bell in you? Do you do the same? Seeing miracle after miracles in the lives of others but then when it comes to you and your own life, you question and doubt God’s miraculous goodness to you? How human we are.
Today, we are like the people on the hillside, seeking out and listening to God’s word. With the simple gifts that we surrender, God will do mighty things to transform the lives of others, and to transform our own hearts.
God promises that there will be enough. God promises that his grace, his love, his forgiveness is sufficient, and it is for each one of you. Surrender your will, your desire to be in control. Surrender the gifts that you have been given…offer them back to God. Allow God to make you be the miracle that can change the world. And when you doubt and question, remember the story we love to tell and to hear, and rest in the promises of the living God who is the Bread of life.
Amen.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Friday, July 21, 2006
Sunday, June 18, 2006
When You Least Expect It
“When You Least Expect It”
John 3:11-17
Mission Jamaica Weekend
Todd Buegler
June 10, 11 & 12, 2006
Lord of Life
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, and from Jesus Christ, His Son and our Lord, who brings us to new life. Amen.
I would like to begin our time together this morning with a little quiz. Nothing hard…we won’t record your score…I’m just looking for some information that might be helpful for the rest of the morning.
You may be seated.
Mission Jamaica isn’t just about the people in funny shirts going on a trip. This is a ministry of our whole congregation, reaching out to touch the lives of these children, and many, many others in Jamaica. Today we celebrate this ministry, and what God is doing to touch the lives of the people of Jamaica, and the people of Lord of Life who participate in it.
Mission Jamaica is a “When You Least Expect It” experience. People go on Mission Jamaica with certain expectations about what is going to happen there. Pastor Peter said in last week’s sermon that if you want to make God laugh, make plans. The corollary to that statement is that “when you least expect it, God acts. Usually in ways you don’t expect, God acts in our lives and in the lives of others.
A quick summary: While the Mission Jamaica organization works in many different ministries and projects on the island, Lord of Life was involved in 3 ministries this past year: The first is Westhaven, an orphanage for children in the mountains about 45 minutes outside of Montego Bay. This is a home for children who are developmentally disabled, most of whom have been abandoned. At Westhaven, we provide direct care for the children and work on construction and repair projects to raise their quality of life.
Next door to Westhaven is the Place of Safety, a place for boys who have nowhere to go, or safe place to be, or where boys are sent by the courts. There, our team also works on physical projects to improve conditions, or leads simple Vacation Bible School sessions to make God’s Word alive for them.
Our third set of projects was a medical team that worked in Montego Bay, providing medical care for residents. People who would otherwise receive no care would line up in the early hours of the morning and sometimes wait all day to see a doctor or a dentist.
I’ve asked two friends to come and to share their experience of Mission Jamaica this past year. The first is Larry Stokes. Larry is a long-time member of our congregation, and is a leader in our Alpha program. This was his first-time on Mission Jamaica.
The second is Phil Leith. Phil has been on 6 Mission Jamaica trips and has seen the growth and development of the children. He and his family are also active in our congregation and in our community. If you go to the CROSS Community Players production of “The Wizard of Oz”, you will see Phil in a vital role. So please join me in welcoming Larry Stokes, and Phil, the “Mayor of Munchkinland” Leith.
“When you least expect it”, God acts. This should not surprise us. God has been doing this work for thousands of years.
There is nothing magical about Jamaica. It’s not as if God is more present there than God is here, in Maple Grove. Sometimes, however, it is stepping outside our comfort zone, and being willing experience what we don’t expect that opens ourselves up to great opportunities to grow in our faith. If you are at all interested in experiencing this next year, I invite you to talk to the people who will be at the tables between worship services today.
But whether it is in Jamaica or in Maple Grove, remember that God acts in your life, and does so with love and with grace. And remember that that love and grace comes not only at times we anticipate. God works in His own time and way. We need to open up our hearts to God’s work in our life. Be open to where God is calling you to stretch. And then wait, because when you least expect it, God acts.
Amen.
John 3:11-17
Mission Jamaica Weekend
Todd Buegler
June 10, 11 & 12, 2006
Lord of Life
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, and from Jesus Christ, His Son and our Lord, who brings us to new life. Amen.
I would like to begin our time together this morning with a little quiz. Nothing hard…we won’t record your score…I’m just looking for some information that might be helpful for the rest of the morning.
I would like to ask you to stand if:
- You have ever gone on Mission Jamaica.
- You have ever donated material to go into the shipping container or a suitcase going to Jamaica.
- You have ever packed food for Feed My Starving Children
- You ever bought something at the MJ silent auction
- You ever enjoyed a funnel cake at Maple Grove Days or the Osseo Lion’s Roar
- You have ever made a donation to Habitat for Humanity of time or money.
- You have ever brought a child to Parent’s Night Out, or have ever volunteered at a Parent’s Night Out.
- You have ever been a prayer partner for a Mission Jamaica Missionary, or have ever prayed for Mission Jamaica.
- You have ever made any kind of donation or have given offering to Lord of Life.
- You have ever worshipped here (this one is a trick question…think about it…)
I asked you to stand because many times we see or hear about particular ministries or activities of the church and we say to ourselves, “that’s nice…it’s great that they’re doing that.” But look around the room. Mission Jamaica, like all of the other outreach ministries that we support, is not “them doing that.” This is us. All of us. You are a part of Mission Jamaica.
You may be seated.
Mission Jamaica isn’t just about the people in funny shirts going on a trip. This is a ministry of our whole congregation, reaching out to touch the lives of these children, and many, many others in Jamaica. Today we celebrate this ministry, and what God is doing to touch the lives of the people of Jamaica, and the people of Lord of Life who participate in it.
Mission Jamaica is a “When You Least Expect It” experience. People go on Mission Jamaica with certain expectations about what is going to happen there. Pastor Peter said in last week’s sermon that if you want to make God laugh, make plans. The corollary to that statement is that “when you least expect it, God acts. Usually in ways you don’t expect, God acts in our lives and in the lives of others.
A quick summary: While the Mission Jamaica organization works in many different ministries and projects on the island, Lord of Life was involved in 3 ministries this past year: The first is Westhaven, an orphanage for children in the mountains about 45 minutes outside of Montego Bay. This is a home for children who are developmentally disabled, most of whom have been abandoned. At Westhaven, we provide direct care for the children and work on construction and repair projects to raise their quality of life.
Next door to Westhaven is the Place of Safety, a place for boys who have nowhere to go, or safe place to be, or where boys are sent by the courts. There, our team also works on physical projects to improve conditions, or leads simple Vacation Bible School sessions to make God’s Word alive for them.
Our third set of projects was a medical team that worked in Montego Bay, providing medical care for residents. People who would otherwise receive no care would line up in the early hours of the morning and sometimes wait all day to see a doctor or a dentist.
I’ve asked two friends to come and to share their experience of Mission Jamaica this past year. The first is Larry Stokes. Larry is a long-time member of our congregation, and is a leader in our Alpha program. This was his first-time on Mission Jamaica.
The second is Phil Leith. Phil has been on 6 Mission Jamaica trips and has seen the growth and development of the children. He and his family are also active in our congregation and in our community. If you go to the CROSS Community Players production of “The Wizard of Oz”, you will see Phil in a vital role. So please join me in welcoming Larry Stokes, and Phil, the “Mayor of Munchkinland” Leith.
“When you least expect it”, God acts. This should not surprise us. God has been doing this work for thousands of years.
- When Moses least expected it, God appeared as a burning bush and called him into leading the Israelites out of Egypt.
- When the Israelites least expected it, God chose a shepherd boy who would become king, to defeat a giant.
- When the disciples least expected it, Jesus changed a little bread and wine into a feast of grace that will feed the world.
- When the world least expected it, God changed death into resurrection and new life, for you.
- When Larry least expected it, God took his plans, that his week would be limited to good, hard labor, and turned him into a Word of hope for a young man named Marshall.
- When Phil least expected it, God took Phil’s plans, shaped by years of work at Westhaven in the past, and turned them into new relationships with these children.
There is nothing magical about Jamaica. It’s not as if God is more present there than God is here, in Maple Grove. Sometimes, however, it is stepping outside our comfort zone, and being willing experience what we don’t expect that opens ourselves up to great opportunities to grow in our faith. If you are at all interested in experiencing this next year, I invite you to talk to the people who will be at the tables between worship services today.
But whether it is in Jamaica or in Maple Grove, remember that God acts in your life, and does so with love and with grace. And remember that that love and grace comes not only at times we anticipate. God works in His own time and way. We need to open up our hearts to God’s work in our life. Be open to where God is calling you to stretch. And then wait, because when you least expect it, God acts.
Amen.
Ugly Ducklings...All of Us
“Ugly Ducklings…all of us…”
John 15:9-17
Todd Buegler
May 20 & 21, 2006
Lord of Life
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, and from Jesus, the Son of God, who calls us friend! Amen.
At the classy Peabody Hotels in Memphis and Orlando, hundreds come to lunch every day for one specific reason. It's not that the chef is glamorous or that the deserts are gigantic or that the menu is amazing. That all may be true. But that's not why they come.
No, the diners come to watch ducks. The Peabody Hotel is famous for its schooled entourage of ducks who arrive every day at 11am via elevator from the “Duck Palace,” their home on the roof to the marble fountain in the Grand Lobby. To the sound of a John Phillip Sousa march, these ducks stride down the red carpet single file, keeping rhythm with the music. The ducks spend the afternoon swimming in the hotel fountain. Then at 5pm they walk out again in single file to enter their waiting elevator and return to their rooftop home.
Ducks just swimming in a hotel fountain wouldn’t be that big a deal. But ducks marching single-file through a hotel lobby in a perfectly synchronized strut have been unusual and amusing enough to establish and maintain a million dollar reputation for the Peabody Hotels.
Ducks, for whatever reason, have been symbols of order and repetitive sameness throughout history. It's there in our language. We allude to getting our ducks in a row, and to sitting ducks. Ducks are what roll by in front of us in neat lines at shooting arcades. In their procession through the Peabody Hotel, the ducks' movements are perfectly predictable. Each duck precisely mimics the duck parading in front of it. They march strictly in step, reach their destination, then retreat in the same orderly fashion.
I’m telling you about the Peabody ducks not because it’s an amazing thing to see, which it surely is. I’m telling you about the Peabody ducks because I believe that they are a metaphor. We often live our faith lives in a duck kind of way. But this is not the life of faith to which Christ calls us.
During Jesus time, the educational system was rigid. Students would study hoping someday to become a Rabbi, a position of highest respect in Jewish culture. Throughout their whole lives young people would study the Torah, and the rest of the Hebrew scriptures, memorizing the laws of God. At different points, students who were good enough would be allowed to continue, and those who didn’t make the cut would return to learn their family trade.
Finally, in the late teens, those who were still in school would apply to be a disciple of a Rabbi. To just a few, the best of the best of the best, the Rabbi says “pick up my yoke and follow me,” which literally means “Pick up my teachings, and follow me.” Those were the words the students had yearned to hear since childhood. They had made the cut.
And the disciples of a Rabbi would literally follow him around. Everything he did, everywhere he went. Their goal wasn’t just to learn what the Rabbi knew, it was to do what the Rabbi did. They literally wanted to become just like the Rabbi. When I visualize what it must have looked like, with the Rabbi in front and the disciples following immediately behind him, I think of the row of ducks, following one right after the other, each one mimicking the duck ahead of him. Each trying to be like the master who leads.
There is a part of this image that is appealing to me. I’d love to be able to say that I was following in the steps of Jesus. I would love to have the path exactly defined for me…I’d love to have full confidence that my decisions mirror those that Jesus would make. There are parts of me that long to be a duck, following in step behind my Rabbi.
Unfortunately, were I a duck, I think I would be something of an ugly duck. (wait a minute…did I see you nod?) I would be a duck who has difficulty following…I would be a duck who doesn’t feel like I have my personal devotional and prayer life all together. I would be a duck with a short attention span. I would be a duck who can sometimes be a little stubborn…ok, really stubborn. If the goal of my Rabbi was that I follow and mimic, I fear that my Rabbi would be disappointed in me.
Enter Jesus: A different kind of Rabbi. This Rabbi didn’t take applicants. Jesus took a different approach. He went out and sought people already working in a trade; that means that they weren’t the best of the best, or probably even the best. He chose ordinary people and said “drop what you’re doing, and follow me.” And those people who became his disciples may have expected to follow him around in lockstep like other Rabbis and disciples, but Jesus had other ideas.
In verses 14-16 of our Gospel today, Jesus states: “You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you. You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit – fruit that will last.”
Jesus says some startling things in this text
· He is saying: “it’s not about master and servant anymore. I call you friend.”
· He is saying: “It’s not about you applying to me, hoping to measure up, it’s about me choosing you.”
· He is saying: “It’s not about you following me around, trying to mimic my every move. I’m not interested in clones; I’m interested in your faith.”
I have to stop here and make a note that Jesus’ words here do cause us something of a theological problem. Because clearly, Jesus is a master; Jesus is a Rabbi. Clearly, Jesus does want us to “follow him.” In fact, Jesus using the phrase “follow me” is recorded 30 different times in the Gospels. But here, he says “no, I no longer call you servants, I call you friends.” So which is it? Is Jesus master? Is Jesus friend?
The answer is: yes. It is a paradox; where two opposite answers can both be right. Yes, Jesus is master and role model. We should follow him. Yes, Jesus is friend to us. If you’ve ever been in a situation at work where you were in a supervisory role over people who are also your friends, it can cause tension. It is not always easy. Jesus’ words here put us into that tension.
I have to admit that I always struggled just a bit with Jesus saying that he calls me a “friend.” I never completely understood what he meant by that. It’s not as if I’d call Jesus up and we’d head to a movie together, or that he’d come over and we’d order pizza and watch a Twilight Zone marathon.
Jesus isn’t calling us into that kind of a friendship. Rather, Jesus is saying that he came to be a relational God. Jesus is not distant. Jesus is God, but he is a God who is alongside us.
Jesus’ friendship is unconditional. Even thought we don’t deserve it, even though we aren’t the best, much less the best of the best, Jesus seeks us out. Jesus rewrites the rules of what a Rabbi is, of what a Savior is.
We have to admit that as people of God, we expect the “duck” kind of faith where we follow in Jesus’ footsteps exactly. The problem with this is that we can never maintain that path. We are human, we wander. But even when we wander, Jesus continues to call us back to relationship.
Daniel Taylor, in his book Letters to my Children describes an experience he had in the sixth grade. Back in those days, as a part of the phy ed. experience, students were taught how to dance. You might have done this yourself. I did. It was miserable. Taylor writes that the boys would line up at the door of the classroom to choose their partners. Imagine what it was like to be one of the girls waiting to be chosen.
One girl, Mary, was always chosen last. Because of a childhood illness, one of her arms was drawn up and she had a bad leg. She wasn’t pretty, she wasn’t smart and she was overweight. The assistant teacher of Dan’s class happened to attend his church. One day she pulled Dan aside and said “Dan, next time we have dancing, I want you to choose Mary.” Dan couldn’t believe it. Why would anyone pick Mary when there was Linda, Shelley or even Dorreen? Dan’s teacher told him it is what Jesus would have done, and deep inside, he knew she was right, which didn’t make it any easier. All Dan could hope for was that he would be last in line. That way, he could choose Mary, do the right thing and no one would be the wiser. Instead, Dan was first in line.
Dan writes that “the faces of the girls were turned toward me, some smiling. I looked at Mary and saw that she was half-turned to the back of the room. (She knew no one would pick her first.)…Mr. Jenkins said, “Okay, Dan, choose your partner.” I remember feeling very far away. I heard my voice say, “I choose Mary.”
Never has reluctant virtue been so rewarded. Dan writes “I still see her face undimmed in my memory. She lifted her head, and on her face, reddened with pleasure and surprise and embarrassment all at once, was the most genuine look of delight and even pride that I have ever seen, before or since. It was so pure that I had to look away because I knew I didn’t deserve it.
Mary came and took my arm, as we had been instructed, and she walked beside me, bad leg and all, just like a princess…
I never saw her after that year. I don’t know what her life’s been like, or what she’s doing. But I’d like to think she has a fond memory of at least one day in sixth grade. I know I do.”
Lined up in the classroom like ducks in a row, Dan made a choice that set aside the natural social order. He chose the unexpected. He chose the way of Jesus who says “I call you friend.”
My friends, Jesus chose you. Even though you are not the best of the best of the best. He chose you. You don’t have to line up and mimic Jesus to ensure his love for you. You aren’t graded on a curve. Because of Jesus’ friendship you are chosen, just as you are. Because of Jesus’ friendship, you are forgiven.
You and I are not like the Peabody ducks. We will never be perfectly lined up with our master. We will always fall short of the glory of God.
We are all ugly ducks. But it is the grace of God through Jesus Christ that transforms us. Like the famous children’s story which ends with the ugly duckling finally recognizing its true identity, Christ reveals to us our identity as baptized and loved children of God. If you were able to look at yourself through God’s eyes, you would see loved friends.
We have been adopted into a free-flying family. Because of Jesus’ friendship, love and grace, we are set loose and freed to be in relationship with God…it’s a relationship we will never fully understand; It is a paradox; God is simply too big. But it is a relationship that Jesus calls us into nonetheless. Jesus calls us into this relationship out of love and grace.
We follow not just a master, we follow a friend.
Amen.
John 15:9-17
Todd Buegler
May 20 & 21, 2006
Lord of Life
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, and from Jesus, the Son of God, who calls us friend! Amen.
At the classy Peabody Hotels in Memphis and Orlando, hundreds come to lunch every day for one specific reason. It's not that the chef is glamorous or that the deserts are gigantic or that the menu is amazing. That all may be true. But that's not why they come.
No, the diners come to watch ducks. The Peabody Hotel is famous for its schooled entourage of ducks who arrive every day at 11am via elevator from the “Duck Palace,” their home on the roof to the marble fountain in the Grand Lobby. To the sound of a John Phillip Sousa march, these ducks stride down the red carpet single file, keeping rhythm with the music. The ducks spend the afternoon swimming in the hotel fountain. Then at 5pm they walk out again in single file to enter their waiting elevator and return to their rooftop home.
Ducks just swimming in a hotel fountain wouldn’t be that big a deal. But ducks marching single-file through a hotel lobby in a perfectly synchronized strut have been unusual and amusing enough to establish and maintain a million dollar reputation for the Peabody Hotels.
Ducks, for whatever reason, have been symbols of order and repetitive sameness throughout history. It's there in our language. We allude to getting our ducks in a row, and to sitting ducks. Ducks are what roll by in front of us in neat lines at shooting arcades. In their procession through the Peabody Hotel, the ducks' movements are perfectly predictable. Each duck precisely mimics the duck parading in front of it. They march strictly in step, reach their destination, then retreat in the same orderly fashion.
I’m telling you about the Peabody ducks not because it’s an amazing thing to see, which it surely is. I’m telling you about the Peabody ducks because I believe that they are a metaphor. We often live our faith lives in a duck kind of way. But this is not the life of faith to which Christ calls us.
During Jesus time, the educational system was rigid. Students would study hoping someday to become a Rabbi, a position of highest respect in Jewish culture. Throughout their whole lives young people would study the Torah, and the rest of the Hebrew scriptures, memorizing the laws of God. At different points, students who were good enough would be allowed to continue, and those who didn’t make the cut would return to learn their family trade.
Finally, in the late teens, those who were still in school would apply to be a disciple of a Rabbi. To just a few, the best of the best of the best, the Rabbi says “pick up my yoke and follow me,” which literally means “Pick up my teachings, and follow me.” Those were the words the students had yearned to hear since childhood. They had made the cut.
And the disciples of a Rabbi would literally follow him around. Everything he did, everywhere he went. Their goal wasn’t just to learn what the Rabbi knew, it was to do what the Rabbi did. They literally wanted to become just like the Rabbi. When I visualize what it must have looked like, with the Rabbi in front and the disciples following immediately behind him, I think of the row of ducks, following one right after the other, each one mimicking the duck ahead of him. Each trying to be like the master who leads.
There is a part of this image that is appealing to me. I’d love to be able to say that I was following in the steps of Jesus. I would love to have the path exactly defined for me…I’d love to have full confidence that my decisions mirror those that Jesus would make. There are parts of me that long to be a duck, following in step behind my Rabbi.
Unfortunately, were I a duck, I think I would be something of an ugly duck. (wait a minute…did I see you nod?) I would be a duck who has difficulty following…I would be a duck who doesn’t feel like I have my personal devotional and prayer life all together. I would be a duck with a short attention span. I would be a duck who can sometimes be a little stubborn…ok, really stubborn. If the goal of my Rabbi was that I follow and mimic, I fear that my Rabbi would be disappointed in me.
Enter Jesus: A different kind of Rabbi. This Rabbi didn’t take applicants. Jesus took a different approach. He went out and sought people already working in a trade; that means that they weren’t the best of the best, or probably even the best. He chose ordinary people and said “drop what you’re doing, and follow me.” And those people who became his disciples may have expected to follow him around in lockstep like other Rabbis and disciples, but Jesus had other ideas.
In verses 14-16 of our Gospel today, Jesus states: “You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you. You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit – fruit that will last.”
Jesus says some startling things in this text
· He is saying: “it’s not about master and servant anymore. I call you friend.”
· He is saying: “It’s not about you applying to me, hoping to measure up, it’s about me choosing you.”
· He is saying: “It’s not about you following me around, trying to mimic my every move. I’m not interested in clones; I’m interested in your faith.”
I have to stop here and make a note that Jesus’ words here do cause us something of a theological problem. Because clearly, Jesus is a master; Jesus is a Rabbi. Clearly, Jesus does want us to “follow him.” In fact, Jesus using the phrase “follow me” is recorded 30 different times in the Gospels. But here, he says “no, I no longer call you servants, I call you friends.” So which is it? Is Jesus master? Is Jesus friend?
The answer is: yes. It is a paradox; where two opposite answers can both be right. Yes, Jesus is master and role model. We should follow him. Yes, Jesus is friend to us. If you’ve ever been in a situation at work where you were in a supervisory role over people who are also your friends, it can cause tension. It is not always easy. Jesus’ words here put us into that tension.
I have to admit that I always struggled just a bit with Jesus saying that he calls me a “friend.” I never completely understood what he meant by that. It’s not as if I’d call Jesus up and we’d head to a movie together, or that he’d come over and we’d order pizza and watch a Twilight Zone marathon.
Jesus isn’t calling us into that kind of a friendship. Rather, Jesus is saying that he came to be a relational God. Jesus is not distant. Jesus is God, but he is a God who is alongside us.
Jesus’ friendship is unconditional. Even thought we don’t deserve it, even though we aren’t the best, much less the best of the best, Jesus seeks us out. Jesus rewrites the rules of what a Rabbi is, of what a Savior is.
We have to admit that as people of God, we expect the “duck” kind of faith where we follow in Jesus’ footsteps exactly. The problem with this is that we can never maintain that path. We are human, we wander. But even when we wander, Jesus continues to call us back to relationship.
Daniel Taylor, in his book Letters to my Children describes an experience he had in the sixth grade. Back in those days, as a part of the phy ed. experience, students were taught how to dance. You might have done this yourself. I did. It was miserable. Taylor writes that the boys would line up at the door of the classroom to choose their partners. Imagine what it was like to be one of the girls waiting to be chosen.
One girl, Mary, was always chosen last. Because of a childhood illness, one of her arms was drawn up and she had a bad leg. She wasn’t pretty, she wasn’t smart and she was overweight. The assistant teacher of Dan’s class happened to attend his church. One day she pulled Dan aside and said “Dan, next time we have dancing, I want you to choose Mary.” Dan couldn’t believe it. Why would anyone pick Mary when there was Linda, Shelley or even Dorreen? Dan’s teacher told him it is what Jesus would have done, and deep inside, he knew she was right, which didn’t make it any easier. All Dan could hope for was that he would be last in line. That way, he could choose Mary, do the right thing and no one would be the wiser. Instead, Dan was first in line.
Dan writes that “the faces of the girls were turned toward me, some smiling. I looked at Mary and saw that she was half-turned to the back of the room. (She knew no one would pick her first.)…Mr. Jenkins said, “Okay, Dan, choose your partner.” I remember feeling very far away. I heard my voice say, “I choose Mary.”
Never has reluctant virtue been so rewarded. Dan writes “I still see her face undimmed in my memory. She lifted her head, and on her face, reddened with pleasure and surprise and embarrassment all at once, was the most genuine look of delight and even pride that I have ever seen, before or since. It was so pure that I had to look away because I knew I didn’t deserve it.
Mary came and took my arm, as we had been instructed, and she walked beside me, bad leg and all, just like a princess…
I never saw her after that year. I don’t know what her life’s been like, or what she’s doing. But I’d like to think she has a fond memory of at least one day in sixth grade. I know I do.”
Lined up in the classroom like ducks in a row, Dan made a choice that set aside the natural social order. He chose the unexpected. He chose the way of Jesus who says “I call you friend.”
My friends, Jesus chose you. Even though you are not the best of the best of the best. He chose you. You don’t have to line up and mimic Jesus to ensure his love for you. You aren’t graded on a curve. Because of Jesus’ friendship you are chosen, just as you are. Because of Jesus’ friendship, you are forgiven.
You and I are not like the Peabody ducks. We will never be perfectly lined up with our master. We will always fall short of the glory of God.
We are all ugly ducks. But it is the grace of God through Jesus Christ that transforms us. Like the famous children’s story which ends with the ugly duckling finally recognizing its true identity, Christ reveals to us our identity as baptized and loved children of God. If you were able to look at yourself through God’s eyes, you would see loved friends.
We have been adopted into a free-flying family. Because of Jesus’ friendship, love and grace, we are set loose and freed to be in relationship with God…it’s a relationship we will never fully understand; It is a paradox; God is simply too big. But it is a relationship that Jesus calls us into nonetheless. Jesus calls us into this relationship out of love and grace.
We follow not just a master, we follow a friend.
Amen.
Now Reading
Now Reading:
Contemplative Youth Ministry; Practicing the Presence of God
by Mark Yaconelli
Could bias claims chill campaign coverage?
Could bias claims chill campaign coverage?
This is a particularly well thought-out reply to those who argue about the political "spin" in news coverage. I really have come to appreciate Kate Parry, the Reader's Rep for the Star Tribune.
This is a particularly well thought-out reply to those who argue about the political "spin" in news coverage. I really have come to appreciate Kate Parry, the Reader's Rep for the Star Tribune.
Father's Day
Happy Father's Day to all whom this applies. I'm pretty sure that this is the first Father's Day that I've not been traveling for since Nathan was born 5.5 years ago...might actually be my first Father's Day at home in 18 years...I don't remember.
I'm looking forward to time with the boys.
The AWOL team is safely in Salt Lake City. I'm looking forward to spending some time with them in the next 4 days.
I'm looking forward to time with the boys.
The AWOL team is safely in Salt Lake City. I'm looking forward to spending some time with them in the next 4 days.
Friday, March 24, 2006
Jamaica Bound
Tomorrow morning, 4:10am we leave the Lord of Life parking lot for the airport and then on to Montego Bay for Mission Jamaica.
I'll be "unplugged" through April 1.
During that time we'll be doing direct care of children at Westhaven Children's Home in the community of Copse, about 45 minutes up into the mountains of Jamaica.
This is always a powerful experience. It's something I look forward to every year. The children are amazing, the work is amazing...
Please keep us in your prayers as we travel. And pray for the children there.
Confession
I got a great question from someone. I pulled their name and posted the question and my reply.
Q: Pastor Todd,
The reason I am emailing you is because I have a concern with the way Iconfess my sins. I hate to be legalistic, but here is my concern: I see more and more how important it is to fall at the knees of God and confessmy sins. I am quite loyal at admitting that I am a sinner and have fallenshort of the glory of God and ask for His forgiveness. I worship anddwell in His grace.
However, I find it hard to recall the sins that Ihave committed. At the end of the day, I am not real sure what I didwrong. I feel I would grow closer to God by understanding better where itis that I fall short. Then, I could have more directed prayer for myweaknesses.
So, I end up just asking for forgiveness in a very general way. I understand that God desires a pure heart, and I come to Him with a sincere heart asking for forgiveness and I feel that brings Him joy. Again though, it just seems more real to come humbly when I admit my actual sins.I know this is kind of a big topic, but any thoughts you have would be appreciated.
Thank you,
<><,
Reply: Thanks for your note. Sorry for the delay in getting back to you. You ask a great question and I wanted to take some time to think, do a little reading and pray before I responded.
I appreciate your concern about confession. If that is an essential part of our relationship with God, and I, like you, do believe it is, then we want to be as genuine, real and complete as we possibly can be. And our concern over that isn’t necessarily the same as “legalism”, but rather a genuine desire to have an honest relationship with Christ. I admire you in your desire to have that.
At the same time, I don’t think you need to concern yourself too much if you are able to have a “complete” laundry list of our sins. Frankly, if we take seriously Luther’s admonition that all sin is the same, and that even our “thinking” about committing sin, then frankly there is no way that any of us can accurately catalog our sinful thoughts and actions.
Beyond that, however, I sometimes think of sin and confession in a different, perhaps more wholistic way: Sin is our actions that break the wishes and commandments of God. But sin is also a condition, a state of being that we are all born into. Because of sin and our sinfulness, we live in a broken relationship with God that ONLY Christ can restore through His actions, and not because we deserve it. (I know that you know this, I’m just formulating my thoughts…sorry…)
When we confess, I think it’s good to confess the things that we have done, and I think it’s ok to move into the “general” when we can’t remember what we’ve done because God remembers.
But I think even more importantly is for us to confess the broken relationship we feel. That broken relationship, which our sinfulness causes, is the root of our human condition and the cause for the “sins” (actions) that we all do. That expression is more about the root of our relationship with God than the individual actions that we do that are “sins.”
Am I making sense in the distinction?
Basically what I’m trying to say is that we confess both:
A) The sins we commit that we remember and those that we don’t and cannot remember.
B) Our sinful nature that causes us to want to be “in charge”, to literally be God of our own lives, and which causes us to do the sins that further break the relationship.
We live in a “chicken and egg” scenario. We sin because we are sinful. We are sinful because we sin. You’re absolutely right that God desires a “pure heart”, but it is only Christ that can make that heart pure. Only Christ can break the cycle, and our confession is less about a what we did and more about admitting our role in the cycle, our dependence on Christ and for Christ to reach through the cycle to us. After all, in Psalm 51:10 the writer confesses “Create in me a clean heart, O Lord, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.” This confession is about the heart, not about our sinful activities.
So you are right…direct your prayer, but my advice would be to direct it towards a whole relationship, not just a longer and better list of your sins.
Ok, now I’m starting to ramble. I have no idea if this makes any sense. I would be happy to discuss this further with you by e-mail or “live” if it would be helpful. Thanks for your question though. It was good to think about. I’ll on Mission Jamaica tomorrow through April 1 so won’t be available to reply until I get back.
Take care!
Peace,
Pastor Todd.
Q: Pastor Todd,
The reason I am emailing you is because I have a concern with the way Iconfess my sins. I hate to be legalistic, but here is my concern: I see more and more how important it is to fall at the knees of God and confessmy sins. I am quite loyal at admitting that I am a sinner and have fallenshort of the glory of God and ask for His forgiveness. I worship anddwell in His grace.
However, I find it hard to recall the sins that Ihave committed. At the end of the day, I am not real sure what I didwrong. I feel I would grow closer to God by understanding better where itis that I fall short. Then, I could have more directed prayer for myweaknesses.
So, I end up just asking for forgiveness in a very general way. I understand that God desires a pure heart, and I come to Him with a sincere heart asking for forgiveness and I feel that brings Him joy. Again though, it just seems more real to come humbly when I admit my actual sins.I know this is kind of a big topic, but any thoughts you have would be appreciated.
Thank you,
<><,
Reply: Thanks for your note. Sorry for the delay in getting back to you. You ask a great question and I wanted to take some time to think, do a little reading and pray before I responded.
I appreciate your concern about confession. If that is an essential part of our relationship with God, and I, like you, do believe it is, then we want to be as genuine, real and complete as we possibly can be. And our concern over that isn’t necessarily the same as “legalism”, but rather a genuine desire to have an honest relationship with Christ. I admire you in your desire to have that.
At the same time, I don’t think you need to concern yourself too much if you are able to have a “complete” laundry list of our sins. Frankly, if we take seriously Luther’s admonition that all sin is the same, and that even our “thinking” about committing sin, then frankly there is no way that any of us can accurately catalog our sinful thoughts and actions.
Beyond that, however, I sometimes think of sin and confession in a different, perhaps more wholistic way: Sin is our actions that break the wishes and commandments of God. But sin is also a condition, a state of being that we are all born into. Because of sin and our sinfulness, we live in a broken relationship with God that ONLY Christ can restore through His actions, and not because we deserve it. (I know that you know this, I’m just formulating my thoughts…sorry…)
When we confess, I think it’s good to confess the things that we have done, and I think it’s ok to move into the “general” when we can’t remember what we’ve done because God remembers.
But I think even more importantly is for us to confess the broken relationship we feel. That broken relationship, which our sinfulness causes, is the root of our human condition and the cause for the “sins” (actions) that we all do. That expression is more about the root of our relationship with God than the individual actions that we do that are “sins.”
Am I making sense in the distinction?
Basically what I’m trying to say is that we confess both:
A) The sins we commit that we remember and those that we don’t and cannot remember.
B) Our sinful nature that causes us to want to be “in charge”, to literally be God of our own lives, and which causes us to do the sins that further break the relationship.
We live in a “chicken and egg” scenario. We sin because we are sinful. We are sinful because we sin. You’re absolutely right that God desires a “pure heart”, but it is only Christ that can make that heart pure. Only Christ can break the cycle, and our confession is less about a what we did and more about admitting our role in the cycle, our dependence on Christ and for Christ to reach through the cycle to us. After all, in Psalm 51:10 the writer confesses “Create in me a clean heart, O Lord, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.” This confession is about the heart, not about our sinful activities.
So you are right…direct your prayer, but my advice would be to direct it towards a whole relationship, not just a longer and better list of your sins.
Ok, now I’m starting to ramble. I have no idea if this makes any sense. I would be happy to discuss this further with you by e-mail or “live” if it would be helpful. Thanks for your question though. It was good to think about. I’ll on Mission Jamaica tomorrow through April 1 so won’t be available to reply until I get back.
Take care!
Peace,
Pastor Todd.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Prayers for the Journey
(
Photo is of Gov. Pawlenty seeing the Minnesota troops off...)
I have a nephew (actually, a nephew-in-law) who is departing today with the Minnesota National Guard for Iraq.
I am not happy about this.
This has seemed like a distant war. This has seemed like things that happen to someone else.
My nephew-in-law is named Jeff. He is probably 23 years old. He is not distant. He is family.
Please keep him in your prayers.
Todd.
Photo is of Gov. Pawlenty seeing the Minnesota troops off...)I have a nephew (actually, a nephew-in-law) who is departing today with the Minnesota National Guard for Iraq.
I am not happy about this.
- Why is it that the whole situation seems more out of control now than it did after "victory" was declared?
- Why is it that the pace of killing and destruction appears to be in the increase, rather than the decrease?
- Why is it that more men and women are being sent there, instead of less?
- Why are people still invoking 9/11 with regard to Iraq when clearly there is (or at least was) no direct connection?
This has seemed like a distant war. This has seemed like things that happen to someone else.
My nephew-in-law is named Jeff. He is probably 23 years old. He is not distant. He is family.
Please keep him in your prayers.
Todd.
Monday, March 13, 2006
A white day
There is snow today in Minneapolis. Significant snow. Not necessarily the all-encompassing, armageddon-like snow dumping that the weather people were predicting, but we haven't had one of those since the Halloween blizzard 15 or 16 years ago...
But it's the kind of day where you get up and a part of you hopes for the clean, crispness of a "snow day". No school. No work. No travel. You hunker down inside with the occasional foray outside to play in the snow.
No such luck. I'm at work and am at my desk, looking at the snow falling outside.
But it's the kind of day where you get up and a part of you hopes for the clean, crispness of a "snow day". No school. No work. No travel. You hunker down inside with the occasional foray outside to play in the snow.
No such luck. I'm at work and am at my desk, looking at the snow falling outside.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Questioning Authority
I just came across an online CNN report that Sen. Russ Fiengold from Wisconsin is going to introduce a resolution to censure President Bush for intentionally breaking the law in his wiretapping without a warrant.
Now I've generally stayed pretty publically low-key about what is going on in politics, the war, and these other controversies. I have my opinions, but I' m not sure that in my role, being too vocal about them would limit my ability to do work and ministry with those who have different opinions. So I really don't want anyone to think that my particular opinion on this topic is an endorsement of a particular candidate, party, philosophy or anything. However...
The critics of Sen. Fiengold claim that by filing a motion for censure, we are "sending the wrong message" around the world. They claim that it undercuts the work and mission of the troops stationed in harm's way.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Our country was formed based on skepticism of those in authority. We have not only a right, but a duty to wonder, to question and when necessary, to challenge.
Raising these questions does not undercut our troops. Rather, it is exactly why they are overseas: To protect the fundamental rights of people to disagree with their leaders.
I admit to a healthy skepticism about the military presence and the violence in Iraq. But we created this mess, and now it needs to be cleaned up. As my Mother taught me, "clean up your own messes."
But it seems to me that we went into this military action under false pretenses, that the work we have done, while much has been good (and don't get me started about these people who complain that the 'good stories don't get told...yes, we know that schools have been built...the problem isn't about the good, the problems quite simply lay with the bad.), hasn't seemed to solve anything.
But people of good conscience should continue to doubt and to question. And those who are politically on the other side of the table shouldn't work to indict the critics based on whether or not they should speak. That's what you do when your arguments don't hold water.
Now I've generally stayed pretty publically low-key about what is going on in politics, the war, and these other controversies. I have my opinions, but I' m not sure that in my role, being too vocal about them would limit my ability to do work and ministry with those who have different opinions. So I really don't want anyone to think that my particular opinion on this topic is an endorsement of a particular candidate, party, philosophy or anything. However...
The critics of Sen. Fiengold claim that by filing a motion for censure, we are "sending the wrong message" around the world. They claim that it undercuts the work and mission of the troops stationed in harm's way.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Our country was formed based on skepticism of those in authority. We have not only a right, but a duty to wonder, to question and when necessary, to challenge.
Raising these questions does not undercut our troops. Rather, it is exactly why they are overseas: To protect the fundamental rights of people to disagree with their leaders.
I admit to a healthy skepticism about the military presence and the violence in Iraq. But we created this mess, and now it needs to be cleaned up. As my Mother taught me, "clean up your own messes."
But it seems to me that we went into this military action under false pretenses, that the work we have done, while much has been good (and don't get me started about these people who complain that the 'good stories don't get told...yes, we know that schools have been built...the problem isn't about the good, the problems quite simply lay with the bad.), hasn't seemed to solve anything.
But people of good conscience should continue to doubt and to question. And those who are politically on the other side of the table shouldn't work to indict the critics based on whether or not they should speak. That's what you do when your arguments don't hold water.
Unlimited Warranty
“Unlimited Warranty”
Mark 8:31-38
Todd Buegler
March 8, 2006
Lord of Life
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus, who is the Christ. Amen.
Every day when I leave the house, Nathan and Samuel run up to me with their arms up in the air. “Daddy, pick me up!” Hugs. Kisses, and I go. Often times, however, I’ll discover hours later, and usually after some public meeting, the remains of the boys breakfast embedded on my shoulder…right about here. The highlight of these experiences was when I went to my final approval interview with the Bishop’s Office for ordination last May. After the meeting with the committee of seven, I discovered an almost perfect rendering of Samuel’s face, made up of “Go-gurt”, had been smiling out at the approval committee. To be honest, I think it might have scored points with the committee.
But when a young child comes up to you and throw their arms into the air, it is difficult to resist. The arms up, and the phrase “Daddy!” is a sign of their love, and their complete dependence on you. Children depend on their parents completely. For food, for clothing, for safety, for love, for acceptance, for boundaries, for someone to wrestle with, for someone to watch Saturday morning cartoons with… As parents, it is our job to provide for those who depend on us. Sociologists have said that childhood and adolescence is the process of a young person moving from total dependence, to independence, as they move into adulthood.
Our faith development is somewhat different, however. We do not move from dependence to independence. As we grow in our faith, we move from independence to dependence on God.
In our Gospel tonight, Jesus gives us a description of our relationship with God. Jesus says, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to gain their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. (Mark 8:34-35)
This seems pretty counter intuitive; it goes against our natural instincts. To “gain life” we must “lose it?” Those who “lose our lives will gain it?” Our natural inclination is to say the opposite of Jesus. Our society teaches that our lives are our own. We are independent people who make our own choices, set out on our own paths, and create our own destiny.
In a culture where independence, self-reliance and the ability to “lift oneself up by your own bootstraps” is valued, the idea of losing one’s life, or of “dying to oneself” is foreign. One of our adult small group leaders on our recent sr. high ski retreat told me of a conversation in her group. One young person said that “God is just for those who need God. If things are going pretty well, and if nothing is wrong, you don’t need God.” Wow. This is a brutally honest representation of how many people feel, and of what our culture teaches. “We are self reliant, and when something goes wrong, we can turn to God like some kind of cosmic vending machine.”
Jesus also uses the phrase in our scripture text that we must “deny ourselves and take up the cross, following Him.” What does it mean to deny ourselves? While some might argue that it means to put God and others ahead of ourselves, I believe that it means simply to recognize that God is already ahead of us. God is God and we are not, and the root of human sin is to deny this truth. The fact is, we are not in charge. God is in charge, and we are totally dependent on God. This is a difficult thing for us to swallow. A universal truth is that we want to be in charge of our own lives. We don’t want to acknowledge our dependence on anyone, or anything.
There are several different things that may cause us to deny our dependence on God. For some of us, the urge to feel in control lies in our own self-centeredness. We are simply the most important person in our own lives, and our goal is to satisfy our own wants. For others, the root of our control issue lies in being judgmental. We are so insecure in ourselves that if we keep pointing out others faults, we can continue to feel in control and good about ourselves.
For some, legalism is the key to control. If I work hard enough…run fast enough…perform well enough, I can earn my way to whatever kind of merit falls into my path.
Whatever the cause, each of us in one way or another, at some level, resists denying our own control, and letting God be God; resists letting ourselves be dependent.
I have a friend who lives with a medical condition that his doctor calls “Sudden Death Syndrome.” It is a congenital, degenerative heart condition, and at any given moment, his heart could stop. You’ve heard the occasional story of the athlete whose heart just stops while he runs on the basketball court, and who never knew he had the condition? This is the condition my friend has. He had a defibrillator surgically implanted in his heart. It constantly monitors his heart rate and if there is any irregularity it will deliver an electric shock to the heart in an attempt to return it to normal rhythm. He said that the most disconcerting moment of getting a defibrillator was not the surgery to implant it, it was after the surgery when he had to sign the “limited warranty” on the device.
The defibrillator is slightly smaller than the size of a deck of cards and is implanted just underneath the skin in his chest. He’s shown me the spot, and if you look closely from the right angle, you can actually just make out the shape of the rectangle underneath the skin.
My friend has an interesting “take” on his device. He says that every morning he will stand in front of the mirror while shaving or brushing his teeth. His eyes will be drawn to the small scar and the spot where the device is and he’ll see the rectangle. He told me that “This defibrillator is my daily reminder that I am not in charge. At any moment, something could happen that would take my life away from me, and I am totally in the hands of God. I am not in control. I am totally dependent. Totally dependent.”
My friends, we are all totally dependent on God. Completely. As a child is to a parent, we are all to God, our Father. It is God who gives life. It is God who gives the food we eat…the shelter in which we live…the people who love us…the very air that we breathe. It is by God’s grace that we live. Even when we turn to God when we are in need, the very fact that we can turn to God is a sign of our dependence on God.
And denial of this truth, our attempts at living without God, does not make it less true. Our lives are a gift, and we are dependent on the giver. And God continues to give.
God gives these gifts, His grace, with no strings attached. God gives freely and without reservation, out of a sense of love for us. God’s grace is given even when we are unaware of it. The gift is still given; and when we turn to God, and throw our arms into the air, saying “Abba…Father…Daddy” God’s arms are outstretched to welcome us into his grip. God’s love comes with an unlimited warranty.
God grips you in His grace and loves you unconditionally.
Always.
Amen.
Mark 8:31-38
Todd Buegler
March 8, 2006
Lord of Life
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus, who is the Christ. Amen.
Every day when I leave the house, Nathan and Samuel run up to me with their arms up in the air. “Daddy, pick me up!” Hugs. Kisses, and I go. Often times, however, I’ll discover hours later, and usually after some public meeting, the remains of the boys breakfast embedded on my shoulder…right about here. The highlight of these experiences was when I went to my final approval interview with the Bishop’s Office for ordination last May. After the meeting with the committee of seven, I discovered an almost perfect rendering of Samuel’s face, made up of “Go-gurt”, had been smiling out at the approval committee. To be honest, I think it might have scored points with the committee.
But when a young child comes up to you and throw their arms into the air, it is difficult to resist. The arms up, and the phrase “Daddy!” is a sign of their love, and their complete dependence on you. Children depend on their parents completely. For food, for clothing, for safety, for love, for acceptance, for boundaries, for someone to wrestle with, for someone to watch Saturday morning cartoons with… As parents, it is our job to provide for those who depend on us. Sociologists have said that childhood and adolescence is the process of a young person moving from total dependence, to independence, as they move into adulthood.
Our faith development is somewhat different, however. We do not move from dependence to independence. As we grow in our faith, we move from independence to dependence on God.
In our Gospel tonight, Jesus gives us a description of our relationship with God. Jesus says, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to gain their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. (Mark 8:34-35)
This seems pretty counter intuitive; it goes against our natural instincts. To “gain life” we must “lose it?” Those who “lose our lives will gain it?” Our natural inclination is to say the opposite of Jesus. Our society teaches that our lives are our own. We are independent people who make our own choices, set out on our own paths, and create our own destiny.
In a culture where independence, self-reliance and the ability to “lift oneself up by your own bootstraps” is valued, the idea of losing one’s life, or of “dying to oneself” is foreign. One of our adult small group leaders on our recent sr. high ski retreat told me of a conversation in her group. One young person said that “God is just for those who need God. If things are going pretty well, and if nothing is wrong, you don’t need God.” Wow. This is a brutally honest representation of how many people feel, and of what our culture teaches. “We are self reliant, and when something goes wrong, we can turn to God like some kind of cosmic vending machine.”
Jesus also uses the phrase in our scripture text that we must “deny ourselves and take up the cross, following Him.” What does it mean to deny ourselves? While some might argue that it means to put God and others ahead of ourselves, I believe that it means simply to recognize that God is already ahead of us. God is God and we are not, and the root of human sin is to deny this truth. The fact is, we are not in charge. God is in charge, and we are totally dependent on God. This is a difficult thing for us to swallow. A universal truth is that we want to be in charge of our own lives. We don’t want to acknowledge our dependence on anyone, or anything.
There are several different things that may cause us to deny our dependence on God. For some of us, the urge to feel in control lies in our own self-centeredness. We are simply the most important person in our own lives, and our goal is to satisfy our own wants. For others, the root of our control issue lies in being judgmental. We are so insecure in ourselves that if we keep pointing out others faults, we can continue to feel in control and good about ourselves.
For some, legalism is the key to control. If I work hard enough…run fast enough…perform well enough, I can earn my way to whatever kind of merit falls into my path.
Whatever the cause, each of us in one way or another, at some level, resists denying our own control, and letting God be God; resists letting ourselves be dependent.
I have a friend who lives with a medical condition that his doctor calls “Sudden Death Syndrome.” It is a congenital, degenerative heart condition, and at any given moment, his heart could stop. You’ve heard the occasional story of the athlete whose heart just stops while he runs on the basketball court, and who never knew he had the condition? This is the condition my friend has. He had a defibrillator surgically implanted in his heart. It constantly monitors his heart rate and if there is any irregularity it will deliver an electric shock to the heart in an attempt to return it to normal rhythm. He said that the most disconcerting moment of getting a defibrillator was not the surgery to implant it, it was after the surgery when he had to sign the “limited warranty” on the device.
The defibrillator is slightly smaller than the size of a deck of cards and is implanted just underneath the skin in his chest. He’s shown me the spot, and if you look closely from the right angle, you can actually just make out the shape of the rectangle underneath the skin.
My friend has an interesting “take” on his device. He says that every morning he will stand in front of the mirror while shaving or brushing his teeth. His eyes will be drawn to the small scar and the spot where the device is and he’ll see the rectangle. He told me that “This defibrillator is my daily reminder that I am not in charge. At any moment, something could happen that would take my life away from me, and I am totally in the hands of God. I am not in control. I am totally dependent. Totally dependent.”
My friends, we are all totally dependent on God. Completely. As a child is to a parent, we are all to God, our Father. It is God who gives life. It is God who gives the food we eat…the shelter in which we live…the people who love us…the very air that we breathe. It is by God’s grace that we live. Even when we turn to God when we are in need, the very fact that we can turn to God is a sign of our dependence on God.
And denial of this truth, our attempts at living without God, does not make it less true. Our lives are a gift, and we are dependent on the giver. And God continues to give.
God gives these gifts, His grace, with no strings attached. God gives freely and without reservation, out of a sense of love for us. God’s grace is given even when we are unaware of it. The gift is still given; and when we turn to God, and throw our arms into the air, saying “Abba…Father…Daddy” God’s arms are outstretched to welcome us into his grip. God’s love comes with an unlimited warranty.
God grips you in His grace and loves you unconditionally.
Always.
Amen.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
God Descends
God Descends
John 13:1-15
Todd Buegler
January 19, 2006
Christ Chapel – Gustavus Adolphus College
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, and from Jesus, the Son of God, the Rabbi who serves! Amen.
It is an honor to be here with you today. This campus and this chapel were places that were instrumental in my faith and identity formation. Much of who I am today, I can trace to this campus, and this chapel in particular. My parents were both Gusties. My Grandfather was the salutatorian when he graduated from the then 2-year Gustavus Adolphus College in 1921. I spent countless hours sitting up in that sound booth, running the sound system for worship services and events. I often served as the crucifer here in chapel. I was a part of a campus fellowship group that met every other Tuesday night, here in the chapel. As a senior religion major, my first sermon happened from this pulpit. This chapel holds a special place in my heart, and I can trace the roots of who I am now to this place. God uses places and relationships to form identity. It is good to be back.
If the book of John were a movie, our Gospel today would, I believe, use a kind of “slowed down motion” to capture the texture of the last hours of the life of Jesus. You know the kind I mean: In recent years, altering the speed of a scene has become a favorite technique of movie makers to capture the attention of an audience. Think of the slow action sequences in the “Matrix” movies. Of the four gospel writers, John is the only one that goes deeper into the events that occurred in those moments. He is saying, “Wait just a minute, before we go on, I want you to catch the deeper motives running through the heart of Jesus.
You are familiar with the story of Jesus washing the feet of the disciples. The shock value of someone washing another’s feet often causes us to stop examining the story at that point…as in “wow…washing feet…that’s pretty radical…serving others…pretty radical…we should probably do more of that…” The problem is, the washing of feet in Biblical times was not radical at all. It was a common practice when a guest entered a home, as a sign of welcome, of placing the needs of the guest above those of the host, and of course, to rid the feet of the smell that came from walking in sandals upon dusty roads that people shared with donkeys, other animals, and their droppings.
The radical thing isn’t the washing of feet, it was who was washing feet. Jesus, as a Rabbi, held a place of significance in Jewish culture. Only the best of the best of the best became Rabbis. And their disciples were oathbound to not only serve them completely, but to emulate them; to try to do what the Rabbi did, and to become like the Rabbi was. For the Rabbi to take such action was a shock. So there had to be a specific intent in what Jesus was trying to teach his disciples when they gathered at the table that night, and Jesus took off his robe and bent down to wash their feet.
First, consider this, when you are going to wash someone's feet, what physical movement do you have to make in order to get close to his or her feet? You descend.
The first motion of a servant is descent. Henri Nouwen put it this way in a letter to a relative, "…how is it that love is made visible in Jesus? It is made visible in the descending way. God has descended to us human beings to become a human being with us. And once among us, he descended to the total dereliction of one condemned to death…each one of us has to seek out his or her own descending way of love.”
Jesus chose the upper room, gathered with his disciples turned friends around a table for these climactic acts of his ministry. Again, God uses places and relationships to form identity. And two millennia of Christians have had their identity as children of Grace shaped by that group, in that room. There's a very simple but powerful message in Jesus’ actions. He descends to you. He comes to you to give of himself the ultimate gift of love and grace. God descends to you.
The second motion of the servant is to incarnate. (Ok, it’s not really a verb, but I wasn’t an English major either…) Mother Teresa defines incarnation this way: "God's love is infinite—full of tenderness, full of compassion. God loves the world through us—you and me. The way you touch people, the way you give to people, that love for one another. It is his love in action through us…"
As Jesus descended to wash the disciples feet that night, he wanted them to realize that God's love must be made tangible through acts of compassion and mercy.
I spent 10 days this past October in Biloxi, Mississippi, living with 45 other volunteers on a church floor. We dug the mud, destruction and mold out of homes so they could be salvaged and served up to 350 families a day at an emergency relief distribution center. Eddie was an offshore oilrig worker made homeless by the storm, whose Father had been hospitalized in New Orleans, though Eddie did not know if he was alive or dead, and there was no way to find out. Eddie was passing through one night and saw us sitting outside of the church after a long work day and walked up, wondering if he could sleep outside in a tent we used to store supplies. Eddie stayed and volunteered. When we left, Eddie sobbed…which of course, opened up the floodgates for the rest of us. As he hugged each of us goodbye, one of my teammates, Phil, took off his watch, and discreetly slipped it into Eddie’s hand. You see, the watch that Eddie’s father had given him had been lost in the hurricane. Phil’s act was one of pure love and grace. In that moment, I saw Jesus incarnate in these two men.
Again, from places and relationships, God creates identity. 18 years ago when I preached in this pulpit, I never dreamed I would be who I am today. It was my grandfather, my mother, my father, my wife, my children, my friends, my congregation, Chaplain Elvee, Garrett Paul, Kevin Byrne, Dennis Johnson, Craig Johnson, Eddie, Phil and many others who God used to shape my identity by descending into them and becoming incarnate to me. Thanks be to God for using them in my life. Thanks be to God for places like Gustavus, and all the other places in my life that have been significant. And thanks be to God for calling me to be who I am.
Out of this place and others, out of this community and others, God descends to become incarnate to you. You may not know who God is calling you to be. But trust that your identity is being shaped. Thanks be to the God who descends to you, for calling you to be who you are, and to be God’s love incarnate to others.
Amen.
John 13:1-15
Todd Buegler
January 19, 2006
Christ Chapel – Gustavus Adolphus College
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, and from Jesus, the Son of God, the Rabbi who serves! Amen.
It is an honor to be here with you today. This campus and this chapel were places that were instrumental in my faith and identity formation. Much of who I am today, I can trace to this campus, and this chapel in particular. My parents were both Gusties. My Grandfather was the salutatorian when he graduated from the then 2-year Gustavus Adolphus College in 1921. I spent countless hours sitting up in that sound booth, running the sound system for worship services and events. I often served as the crucifer here in chapel. I was a part of a campus fellowship group that met every other Tuesday night, here in the chapel. As a senior religion major, my first sermon happened from this pulpit. This chapel holds a special place in my heart, and I can trace the roots of who I am now to this place. God uses places and relationships to form identity. It is good to be back.
If the book of John were a movie, our Gospel today would, I believe, use a kind of “slowed down motion” to capture the texture of the last hours of the life of Jesus. You know the kind I mean: In recent years, altering the speed of a scene has become a favorite technique of movie makers to capture the attention of an audience. Think of the slow action sequences in the “Matrix” movies. Of the four gospel writers, John is the only one that goes deeper into the events that occurred in those moments. He is saying, “Wait just a minute, before we go on, I want you to catch the deeper motives running through the heart of Jesus.
You are familiar with the story of Jesus washing the feet of the disciples. The shock value of someone washing another’s feet often causes us to stop examining the story at that point…as in “wow…washing feet…that’s pretty radical…serving others…pretty radical…we should probably do more of that…” The problem is, the washing of feet in Biblical times was not radical at all. It was a common practice when a guest entered a home, as a sign of welcome, of placing the needs of the guest above those of the host, and of course, to rid the feet of the smell that came from walking in sandals upon dusty roads that people shared with donkeys, other animals, and their droppings.
The radical thing isn’t the washing of feet, it was who was washing feet. Jesus, as a Rabbi, held a place of significance in Jewish culture. Only the best of the best of the best became Rabbis. And their disciples were oathbound to not only serve them completely, but to emulate them; to try to do what the Rabbi did, and to become like the Rabbi was. For the Rabbi to take such action was a shock. So there had to be a specific intent in what Jesus was trying to teach his disciples when they gathered at the table that night, and Jesus took off his robe and bent down to wash their feet.
First, consider this, when you are going to wash someone's feet, what physical movement do you have to make in order to get close to his or her feet? You descend.
The first motion of a servant is descent. Henri Nouwen put it this way in a letter to a relative, "…how is it that love is made visible in Jesus? It is made visible in the descending way. God has descended to us human beings to become a human being with us. And once among us, he descended to the total dereliction of one condemned to death…each one of us has to seek out his or her own descending way of love.”
Jesus chose the upper room, gathered with his disciples turned friends around a table for these climactic acts of his ministry. Again, God uses places and relationships to form identity. And two millennia of Christians have had their identity as children of Grace shaped by that group, in that room. There's a very simple but powerful message in Jesus’ actions. He descends to you. He comes to you to give of himself the ultimate gift of love and grace. God descends to you.
The second motion of the servant is to incarnate. (Ok, it’s not really a verb, but I wasn’t an English major either…) Mother Teresa defines incarnation this way: "God's love is infinite—full of tenderness, full of compassion. God loves the world through us—you and me. The way you touch people, the way you give to people, that love for one another. It is his love in action through us…"
As Jesus descended to wash the disciples feet that night, he wanted them to realize that God's love must be made tangible through acts of compassion and mercy.
I spent 10 days this past October in Biloxi, Mississippi, living with 45 other volunteers on a church floor. We dug the mud, destruction and mold out of homes so they could be salvaged and served up to 350 families a day at an emergency relief distribution center. Eddie was an offshore oilrig worker made homeless by the storm, whose Father had been hospitalized in New Orleans, though Eddie did not know if he was alive or dead, and there was no way to find out. Eddie was passing through one night and saw us sitting outside of the church after a long work day and walked up, wondering if he could sleep outside in a tent we used to store supplies. Eddie stayed and volunteered. When we left, Eddie sobbed…which of course, opened up the floodgates for the rest of us. As he hugged each of us goodbye, one of my teammates, Phil, took off his watch, and discreetly slipped it into Eddie’s hand. You see, the watch that Eddie’s father had given him had been lost in the hurricane. Phil’s act was one of pure love and grace. In that moment, I saw Jesus incarnate in these two men.
Again, from places and relationships, God creates identity. 18 years ago when I preached in this pulpit, I never dreamed I would be who I am today. It was my grandfather, my mother, my father, my wife, my children, my friends, my congregation, Chaplain Elvee, Garrett Paul, Kevin Byrne, Dennis Johnson, Craig Johnson, Eddie, Phil and many others who God used to shape my identity by descending into them and becoming incarnate to me. Thanks be to God for using them in my life. Thanks be to God for places like Gustavus, and all the other places in my life that have been significant. And thanks be to God for calling me to be who I am.
Out of this place and others, out of this community and others, God descends to become incarnate to you. You may not know who God is calling you to be. But trust that your identity is being shaped. Thanks be to the God who descends to you, for calling you to be who you are, and to be God’s love incarnate to others.
Amen.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
What Do You See?
Peter Geisendorfer-Lindgren, my senior pastor, and one of the best pastors I have ever encountered gave a good sermon this morning. He compared what we see an hear, and how we interpret it, to how we see and hear God.
How do we hear God? How do we see God? This in a world that seems determined to drown out God's voice? No, I'm not one of those "stick your head in the sand" kind of people who wants to shout out culture to hear God. Quite the contrary. You cannot shout out culture. Culture cannot shout out God. Because culture is there, we are forced to hear it. Because God is there, we get to hear it. The key for Christians is to learn to listen and recognize God's voice in the midst of the chaos that is life, and then to have the courage to follow.
I'm going to think about this some more...both the question of "how do we recognize God's voice? How do we know what it is when it is?" and also the issue of courage. It's a difficult world we live in.
How do we hear God? How do we see God? This in a world that seems determined to drown out God's voice? No, I'm not one of those "stick your head in the sand" kind of people who wants to shout out culture to hear God. Quite the contrary. You cannot shout out culture. Culture cannot shout out God. Because culture is there, we are forced to hear it. Because God is there, we get to hear it. The key for Christians is to learn to listen and recognize God's voice in the midst of the chaos that is life, and then to have the courage to follow.
I'm going to think about this some more...both the question of "how do we recognize God's voice? How do we know what it is when it is?" and also the issue of courage. It's a difficult world we live in.
Useless Trivia for Parties
From Tim Lyles:
- "Stewardesses" is the longest word typed with only the left hand and "lollipop" with your right.
- It's impossible to sneeze with your eyes open.
- Maine is the only state whose name is just one syllable.
- No word in the English language rhymes with month, orange, silver, or purple.
- "Dreamt" is the only English word that ends in the letters "mt".
- Our eyes are always the same size from birth, but our nose and ears
never stop growing. - The sentence: "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog" uses every letter of the alphabet.
- The words 'racecar,' 'kayak' and 'level' are the same whether they are read left to right or right to left (palindromes).
- There are only four words in the English language which end in "dous":tremendous, horrendous, stupendous, and hazardous.
- There are two words in the English language that have all five vowels in order: "abstemious" and "facetious."
- TYPEWRITER is the longest word that can be made using the letters only on one row of the keyboard.
- All 50 states are listed across the top of the Lincoln Memorial on the back of the $5 bill
- A cat has 32 muscles in each ear.
- A crocodile cannot stick out its tongue, but who really cares?
- A "jiffy" is an actual unit of time for 1/100th of a second.
- A shark is the only fish that can blink with both eyes.
- A snail can sleep for three years.
- Almonds are a member of the peach family.
- An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.
- Babies are born without kneecaps. They don't appear until the child reaches 2 to 6 years of age.
- Butterflies taste with their feet.
- Cats have over one hundred vocal sounds.
- Dogs only have about 10.
- February 1865 is the only month in recorded history not to have a full moon.
- In the last 4,000 years, no new animals have been domesticated.
- If the population of China walked past you, 8 abreast, the line would never end because of the rate of reproduction.
- If you are an average American, in your whole life, you will spend an average of 6 months waiting at red lights.
- Leonardo Da Vinci invented the scissors.
- On a Canadian two dollar bill, the flag flying over the Parliament building is an American flag.
- Peanuts are one of the ingredients of dynamite!
- Rubber bands last longer when refrigerated.
- The average person's left hand does 56% of the typing.
- The cruise liner, QE2, moves only six inches for each gallon of diesel that it burns.
- The microwave was invented after a researcher walked by a radar tube and a chocolate bar melted in his pocket.
- The winter of 1932 was so cold that Niagara Falls froze completely solid.
- There are 293 ways to make change for a dollar.
- There are more chickens than people in the world.
- There's no Betty Rubble in the Flintstones Chewables Vitamins.
- Tigers have striped skin, not just striped fur.
- Winston Churchill was born in a ladies' room during a dance.
- Women blink nearly twice as much as men.
- Your stomach has to produce a new layer of mucus every two weeks; otherwise it will digest itself.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
The Art of Innovation by Guy Kawasaki
I'm getting tired of writing about lies, so today I'm covering truths. Specifically, the truths of innovation. I hold these truths to not be self-evident; hence we see so little innovation.
- Jump to the next curve. Too many companies duke it out on the same curve. If they were daisy wheel printer companies, they think innovation means adding Helvetica in 24 points. Instead, they should invent laser printing. True innovation happens when a company jumps to the next curve--or better still, invents the next curve, so set your goals high.
- Don't worry, be crappy. An innovator doesn't worry about shipping an innovative product with elements of crappiness if it's truly innovative. The first permutation of a innovation is seldom perfect--Macintosh, for example, didn't have software (thanks to me), a hard disk (it wouldn't matter with no software anyway), slots, and color. If a company waits--for example, the engineers convince management to add more features--until everything is perfect, it will never ship, and the market will pass it by.
- Churn, baby, churn. I'm saying it's okay to ship crap--I'm not saying that it's okay to stay crappy. A company must improve version 1.0 and create version 1.1, 1.2, ... 2.0. This is a difficult lesson to learn because it's so hard to ship an innovation; therefore, the last thing employees want to deal with is complaints about their perfect baby. Innovation is not an event. It's a process.
- Don't be afraid to polarize people. Most companies want to create the holy grail of products that appeals to every demographic, social-economic background, and geographic location. To attempt to do so guarantees mediocrity. Instead, create great DICEE products that make segments of people very happy. And fear not if these products make other segments unhappy. The worst case is to incite no passionate reactions at all, and that happens when companies try to make everyone happy.
- Break down the barriers. The way life should work is that innovative products are easy to sell. Dream on. Life isn't fair. Indeed, the more innovative, the more barriers the status quo will erect in your way. Entrepreneurs should understand this upfront and not get flustered when market acceptance comes slowly. I've found that the best way to break barriers is enable people to test drive your innovation: download your software, take home your hardware, whatever it takes.
- “Let a hundred flowers blossom.” I stole this from Chairman Mao. Innovators need to be flexible about how people use their products. Avon created Skin So Soft to soften skin, but when parents used it as an insect repellant, Avon went with the flow. Apple thought it created a spreadsheet/database/wordprocessing computer; but, come to find out, customers used it as a desktop publishing machine. The lesson is: Don't be proud. Let a hundred flowers blossom.
- Think digital, act analog. Thinking digital means that companies should use all the digital tools at its disposal--computers, web sites, instruments, whatever--to create great products. But companies should act analog--that is, they must remember that the purpose of innovation is not cool products and cool technologies but happy people. Happy people is a decidedly analog goal.
- Never ask people to do what you wouldn't do. This is a great test for any company. Suppose a company invents the world's greatest mousetrap. It murders mice better than anything in the history of mankind--in fact, it's nuclear powered. The problem is that the customer needs a PhD to set it, it costs $500,000, and has to drop off the dead, radioactive mouse 500 miles away in the middle of the desert. No one at the company would jump through those hoops--it shouldn't expect customers to either.
- Don't let the bozos grind you down. The bozos will tell a company that what it's doing can't be done, shouldn't be done, and isn't necessary. Some bozos are clearly losers--they're the ones who are easy to ignore. The dangerous ones are rich, famous, and powerful--because they are so successful, innovators may think they are right. They're not right; they're just successful on the previous curve so they cannot comprehend, much less embrace, the next curve.
Written at Marriott Hotel, San Francisco, California
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Behold - A Sermon on Luke 2: 22-40
“Behold!”
Luke 2:22-40
Todd Buegler
December 31, 2005 & January 1, 2006
Lord of Life
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, and from Jesus, the Son of God and the Messiah who is grace! Amen.
Several years ago, when Lord of Life’s youth Habitat for Humanity team arrived on the site for our first day of work, we were greeted by a construction supervisor, a foundation in place and ready for framing, and a large pile of lumber, trusses, siding, roofing and other supplies. We got to work. On this particular trip, because the family was working “day jobs” to afford their portion of the home, and they worked on the house itself on weekends, we knew that we wouldn’t get an opportunity to meet them until sometime on Friday. The week went well and much work was done. On Friday at 2pm, the house was framed, the roof was on and shingled, and we were three-quarters of the way done with siding.
While we were at work, a car pulled up and a family of 5 arrived, THE family. They walked slowly up the incline that would be their driveway and they just stopped and soaked it all in. Their eyes were wide and you could see the excitement brimming inside.
Gradually, our group noticed them, and began nudging each other. “Look at that! Check it out! Look!” and they watched the family’s reaction to seeing their home standing for the first time. As more and more people noticed the family, the sound of hammers and saws came to a stop.
A couple of the group members and I walked up to introduce ourselves. I shook the Mother and Father’s hand and they continued to stare at their home. The first words the woman spoke are burned into my memory: “Look at that!” and she broke into tears.
Our group did look. And suddenly, for me and our entire group, the transition was complete. Over the course of the week, what had started out as a pile of wood, had become a house. And now, with the simple words “Look at that”, that house had become someone’s home.
There are occasional moments in our lives when what we see or experience is more than what we expect. It is a moment when the Holy Spirit is infused into an experience. This was one of those moments for me. “Look at that!” “Look at that family.” “Look at that home.”
I’ve had other “Look at that” moments. The kind of moment that takes your breath away:
The birth of my children.
The look of those same children when they saw Christmas presents under the tree last weekend.
The look on my face when staring at the instructions for assembling those same presents.
When a homeless person took my hand and said “Thank you, God bless you” after I dropped some change into his coffee can.
When I watched the volunteer missionaries immediately fall in love with the children at Westhaven, the Jamaican orphanage where we work.
Whenever I’ve experienced the presence of God in ways I didn’t expect.
When these moments have happened, my usual response has been to catch my breath, and then to say “look at that!” In those moments, I encountered Jesus.
This is exactly what happened to Simeon and Anna in our Gospel lesson. They knew the Messiah was coming and they waited and prayed for the day to arrive. The prophecy in the Book of Isaiah said that “In the Lord, all the offspring of Israel shall triumph and glory.” They were waiting to see the glory of the Lord. Simeon was even told by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death until he would see the Messiah. Every time parents brought their children to the Temple to be dedicated, and he and Anna were filled with anticipation that possibly one of them was the child they were waiting for. For years, they had been waiting patiently.
Then, one day, Mary and Joseph arrived at the Temple and Simeon and Anna, now an old man and woman, looked and saw something in the face of this child. With the eyes of faith Simeon and Anna saw in this ordinary event, the presentation of a firstborn child, the very salvation of God. This would be the Messiah. Two aged person, whose eyes were no doubt dimmed by time, were able to “see” with clarity unmatched by others the true meaning of what was before them: God’s gracious presence. Simeon took the child up into his arms and praised God saying: “Behold, your salvation!” Now, “Behold” isn’t a word we use too much today. Today that word would more accurately translate to: “Look at that!” But whichever phrase was used, it was clear that the joy of Simeon's discovery far exceeded his expectations.
I had a similar “Behold”, or “Look at that” moment when my own children were brought to the temple, or in this case, our sanctuary, to be presented to God and to receive the sacrament of baptism. Now I had taught about baptism in our confirmation program, our youth ministries, in Bible studies for years. But when I held Nathan at the font, and Pastor Peter poured the water on his head…in the name of the Father, of the Son, of the Holy Spirit…I understood something that had escaped me before. Looking down at Nathan, I remembered the words God spoke: “I have called you by name…you are mine…” and at that moment, I realized that Nathan doesn’t really belong to Lori and me. Nathan belongs to God. God is just loaning Nathan to us for awhile…to tend while he grows, to care for, to love. But ultimately, Nathan belongs to God. Ultimately, I belong to God. Ultimately, you belong to God.
Mary and Joseph were bringing Jesus to the temple, as was the practice, to present Him to God; in a sense, to again acknowledge that “God, this child belongs to you.” The difference in the story of Jesus and the story of my Nathan? When Mary and Joseph presented Jesus at the temple, God, through the words of Simeon, gave Jesus back to us. God is saying “this child is the salvation. Look at that. See my plans for you.”
Even Simeon didn’t know that the child he held in his arms was to have such a dramatic and forceful impact on the course of human history. But he did know that something great and significant was taking place and he was part of it. And he said: “Look at that!”
But at the time, Simeon and Anna were the exception. They were the only ones who saw Jesus this way. The early church leaders looked for a Messiah who would be a revolutionary to set them free from political oppression and would give Israel back its lands. Jesus was the unexpected Messiah. He came, not as a King, but as a child in a stable, born into poverty. He completely defied the expectations and hopes. You see, Jesus’ revolution was not about restoring a nation. It was about restoring a broken relationship between God and God’s people. Look at that!
What do we, today, expect Jesus to be? Much like Simeon and Anna, we are at the temple today, and Jesus is being presented to us. How do we expect Jesus to be working in the world now? What do you expect of Jesus for your own life?
In the Book of Colossians, Paul uses baptismal imagery in saying that Christians, as God’s people, are to “put on” a new Christ-like life and its qualities of compassion, kindness, lowliness, meekness, patience, forgiveness and above all else, love. In fact, we are completely dependent on God for these gifts. We do not dress ourselves in these qualities. It is God who dresses us.
And what is most revolutionary? That Jesus’ gift of forgiveness is for you.
Your expectation might be that you don’t deserve it. You’re right. Your understanding might be that try as you might, you just can’t earn God’s love. Absolutely. God’s revolutionary idea is that Jesus’ life is given for you. God loves and forgives you unconditionally. God dresses us in these new garments. We are made new by the baby we see today…everyday.
Jesus is not just a child. Jesus is a “Look at that” experience. And Jesus is much more than we would expect:
Jesus spent time with sinners. Look at that!
Jesus healed the sick and resurrected the dead! Look at that!
Jesus fed the hungry. Look at that!
Jesus, the son of God, was crucified…a criminal’s death. Look at that!
Jesus, dead for three days, was resurrected. Look at that!
Like Simeon, we can look and see the life of Jesus and with amazement say “Look at that! This gift is love and promise, fulfilled!” It is amazing…there are no words to describe. It is grace!
Expected or unexpected, Christ comes. The world will never be the same since his coming. Look and see…today, Jesus is being presented, but this time he is being presented to you.
And because of Jesus we can see ourselves, as God sees us, clothed in new garments of love.
Look at that!
Amen .
Luke 2:22-40
Todd Buegler
December 31, 2005 & January 1, 2006
Lord of Life
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, and from Jesus, the Son of God and the Messiah who is grace! Amen.
Several years ago, when Lord of Life’s youth Habitat for Humanity team arrived on the site for our first day of work, we were greeted by a construction supervisor, a foundation in place and ready for framing, and a large pile of lumber, trusses, siding, roofing and other supplies. We got to work. On this particular trip, because the family was working “day jobs” to afford their portion of the home, and they worked on the house itself on weekends, we knew that we wouldn’t get an opportunity to meet them until sometime on Friday. The week went well and much work was done. On Friday at 2pm, the house was framed, the roof was on and shingled, and we were three-quarters of the way done with siding.
While we were at work, a car pulled up and a family of 5 arrived, THE family. They walked slowly up the incline that would be their driveway and they just stopped and soaked it all in. Their eyes were wide and you could see the excitement brimming inside.
Gradually, our group noticed them, and began nudging each other. “Look at that! Check it out! Look!” and they watched the family’s reaction to seeing their home standing for the first time. As more and more people noticed the family, the sound of hammers and saws came to a stop.
A couple of the group members and I walked up to introduce ourselves. I shook the Mother and Father’s hand and they continued to stare at their home. The first words the woman spoke are burned into my memory: “Look at that!” and she broke into tears.
Our group did look. And suddenly, for me and our entire group, the transition was complete. Over the course of the week, what had started out as a pile of wood, had become a house. And now, with the simple words “Look at that”, that house had become someone’s home.
There are occasional moments in our lives when what we see or experience is more than what we expect. It is a moment when the Holy Spirit is infused into an experience. This was one of those moments for me. “Look at that!” “Look at that family.” “Look at that home.”
I’ve had other “Look at that” moments. The kind of moment that takes your breath away:
The birth of my children.
The look of those same children when they saw Christmas presents under the tree last weekend.
The look on my face when staring at the instructions for assembling those same presents.
When a homeless person took my hand and said “Thank you, God bless you” after I dropped some change into his coffee can.
When I watched the volunteer missionaries immediately fall in love with the children at Westhaven, the Jamaican orphanage where we work.
Whenever I’ve experienced the presence of God in ways I didn’t expect.
When these moments have happened, my usual response has been to catch my breath, and then to say “look at that!” In those moments, I encountered Jesus.
This is exactly what happened to Simeon and Anna in our Gospel lesson. They knew the Messiah was coming and they waited and prayed for the day to arrive. The prophecy in the Book of Isaiah said that “In the Lord, all the offspring of Israel shall triumph and glory.” They were waiting to see the glory of the Lord. Simeon was even told by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death until he would see the Messiah. Every time parents brought their children to the Temple to be dedicated, and he and Anna were filled with anticipation that possibly one of them was the child they were waiting for. For years, they had been waiting patiently.
Then, one day, Mary and Joseph arrived at the Temple and Simeon and Anna, now an old man and woman, looked and saw something in the face of this child. With the eyes of faith Simeon and Anna saw in this ordinary event, the presentation of a firstborn child, the very salvation of God. This would be the Messiah. Two aged person, whose eyes were no doubt dimmed by time, were able to “see” with clarity unmatched by others the true meaning of what was before them: God’s gracious presence. Simeon took the child up into his arms and praised God saying: “Behold, your salvation!” Now, “Behold” isn’t a word we use too much today. Today that word would more accurately translate to: “Look at that!” But whichever phrase was used, it was clear that the joy of Simeon's discovery far exceeded his expectations.
I had a similar “Behold”, or “Look at that” moment when my own children were brought to the temple, or in this case, our sanctuary, to be presented to God and to receive the sacrament of baptism. Now I had taught about baptism in our confirmation program, our youth ministries, in Bible studies for years. But when I held Nathan at the font, and Pastor Peter poured the water on his head…in the name of the Father, of the Son, of the Holy Spirit…I understood something that had escaped me before. Looking down at Nathan, I remembered the words God spoke: “I have called you by name…you are mine…” and at that moment, I realized that Nathan doesn’t really belong to Lori and me. Nathan belongs to God. God is just loaning Nathan to us for awhile…to tend while he grows, to care for, to love. But ultimately, Nathan belongs to God. Ultimately, I belong to God. Ultimately, you belong to God.
Mary and Joseph were bringing Jesus to the temple, as was the practice, to present Him to God; in a sense, to again acknowledge that “God, this child belongs to you.” The difference in the story of Jesus and the story of my Nathan? When Mary and Joseph presented Jesus at the temple, God, through the words of Simeon, gave Jesus back to us. God is saying “this child is the salvation. Look at that. See my plans for you.”
Even Simeon didn’t know that the child he held in his arms was to have such a dramatic and forceful impact on the course of human history. But he did know that something great and significant was taking place and he was part of it. And he said: “Look at that!”
But at the time, Simeon and Anna were the exception. They were the only ones who saw Jesus this way. The early church leaders looked for a Messiah who would be a revolutionary to set them free from political oppression and would give Israel back its lands. Jesus was the unexpected Messiah. He came, not as a King, but as a child in a stable, born into poverty. He completely defied the expectations and hopes. You see, Jesus’ revolution was not about restoring a nation. It was about restoring a broken relationship between God and God’s people. Look at that!
What do we, today, expect Jesus to be? Much like Simeon and Anna, we are at the temple today, and Jesus is being presented to us. How do we expect Jesus to be working in the world now? What do you expect of Jesus for your own life?
In the Book of Colossians, Paul uses baptismal imagery in saying that Christians, as God’s people, are to “put on” a new Christ-like life and its qualities of compassion, kindness, lowliness, meekness, patience, forgiveness and above all else, love. In fact, we are completely dependent on God for these gifts. We do not dress ourselves in these qualities. It is God who dresses us.
And what is most revolutionary? That Jesus’ gift of forgiveness is for you.
Your expectation might be that you don’t deserve it. You’re right. Your understanding might be that try as you might, you just can’t earn God’s love. Absolutely. God’s revolutionary idea is that Jesus’ life is given for you. God loves and forgives you unconditionally. God dresses us in these new garments. We are made new by the baby we see today…everyday.
Jesus is not just a child. Jesus is a “Look at that” experience. And Jesus is much more than we would expect:
Jesus spent time with sinners. Look at that!
Jesus healed the sick and resurrected the dead! Look at that!
Jesus fed the hungry. Look at that!
Jesus, the son of God, was crucified…a criminal’s death. Look at that!
Jesus, dead for three days, was resurrected. Look at that!
Like Simeon, we can look and see the life of Jesus and with amazement say “Look at that! This gift is love and promise, fulfilled!” It is amazing…there are no words to describe. It is grace!
Expected or unexpected, Christ comes. The world will never be the same since his coming. Look and see…today, Jesus is being presented, but this time he is being presented to you.
And because of Jesus we can see ourselves, as God sees us, clothed in new garments of love.
Look at that!
Amen .
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Sunday, December 04, 2005
Christmas Concert
Last night, Lori and I went with friends to the Steven Curtis Chapman and the Mercy Me Christmas concert. It was a nice night. The music was great...SCC in particular was "on his game". And the Excel Energy Center is a great venue for these kind of events.
It was interesting though...Christmas is as much as anything about a sense or a feeling of anticipation. I really enjoyed the music, but for me the vibe wasn't there. I'm not sure why that was. Other years I have walked out of events feeling a stronger emotional connection to the Spirit of the holiday. Not so much last night. Perhaps it's just where I am at emotionally.
Peder Eide is doing his Christmas gig next Sunday night here at Lord of Life. Maybe that will do it for me.
It was interesting though...Christmas is as much as anything about a sense or a feeling of anticipation. I really enjoyed the music, but for me the vibe wasn't there. I'm not sure why that was. Other years I have walked out of events feeling a stronger emotional connection to the Spirit of the holiday. Not so much last night. Perhaps it's just where I am at emotionally.
Peder Eide is doing his Christmas gig next Sunday night here at Lord of Life. Maybe that will do it for me.
Watch, Wait and Wonder
“Watch, Wait and Wonder”
Mark 13:24-37
Todd Buegler
November 26 & 27, 2005
Lord of Life
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, and from Jesus the Messiah, who comes to each of us. Amen.
Since my ordination as a pastor at the end of September, I really haven’t had a public opportunity to say “thank you” for calling me as your pastor of youth and family ministries. Having been at Lord of Life as the Director of Youth and Family Ministries for over 18 years has been a privilege and an honor. To receive this call to now serve as a pastor is something for which I am very grateful. Over the years, you have been a blessing to me and my family. God is doing amazing things in our community; Thank you for allowing me to continue to be a part of it. My ordination affirmed my call to this congregation and to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. As an added side-benefit, it made my Mom really, really happy.
I have a belief that there are three words in the English language that are among the most difficult for us to say. In a society that expects quick, instant answers, being forced to say these words can put fear into the heart of presidents and kings, generals and business leaders, pastors and parents. What are these three simple words? I don’t know. No…I don’t mean that I don’t know what the words are…I mean that those three words are “I don’t know.”
Saying I don’t know can be an admission of our frailty, or our ignorance, or our ability. And in our hyper competitive culture, those are things we just don’t want to admit, and people will go to almost any lengths to avoid having to say them.
At one large university, it was the last day before the football team was to play its biggest game of the season. Unfortunately, the head football coach had just received the horrible news that his star quarterback had been disqualified by the dean for academic reasons. The coach went running to the dean’s office to protest. The dean said, “We caught him cheating on a major exam this week.” The coach demanded to know how they knew the quarterback had cheated. The dean said, “Well, he sat right next to an ‘A’ student, the best student in the class, and on the first nine questions, his answers were identical, word-for-word to the answers of the ‘A’ student.” Not satisfied, the coach replied, “That doesn’t prove he was cheating. Maybe he really studied this time. Or maybe the ‘A’ student copied from him.” The dean answered, “Actually it was the tenth question that really did it. The ‘A’ student had written, ‘I don’t know’, and the quarterback wrote, ‘I don’t know either.’”
Sometimes we’d just rather make something up, or cheat, or go to other drastic action to avoid finally admitting that we don’t know something. Heaven forbid, someone might see our flaws.
But we often confuse “not knowing” with failing. Not knowing all the answers, not finding the right solution among the choices laid out before you, doesn’t mean you’re a failure. A political pollster asked one person on election day whether he believed our political system was characterized by ignorance or by apathy. The respondent answered, “I don’t know and I don’t care.”
But just because you don’t know, doesn’t mean that you don’t care.
Not knowing things can keep you on your toes, keep your eyes open and your ear to the ground. And is there anything more annoying than a know it all? A know it all may think they have all of life’s answers, but they’ll never get any of life’s surprises.
This weekend is the first in the season of Advent. It is the beginning of the season where we prepare for Christmas. Advent is loaded with family traditions. Tonight, Lori, Nathan, Samuel and I will light our Advent wreath. We’ll open the daily advent calendar. In the next week or so we’ll get and decorate our tree. We’ll send and receive Christmas cards. These traditions are important to us. You probably have your own traditions, important to you.
Advent is a wonderful season because it is traditional and familiar. We know what to expect. One of the most popular Christmas songs ever is “I’m dreaming of a White Christmas…just like the ones I used to know.” This little phrase, “Just like the ones I used to know” is the essence of many of our Christmas celebrations. The risk in this is that we tend to view Jesus in the past tense, and forget about the Jesus of the present tense. We become know-it-alls about Advent, about Christmas, about Jesus.
Our Gospel lesson for today rattles our “know it all” cage a bit. Jesus has just identified himself as the “Son of God” for the only time in Mark’s Gospel. And His answer to the question of when He will return is: “No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son. Only the Father.” Jesus is the Son of God, and his answer is “I don’t know.”? What is that about?
If ever there was someone who knew the answers to all the hard questions, it was Jesus. But his “I don’t know” changed the focus of these Messiah conversations from what may or may not happen, or when these events may occur, to who is always and ever in charge: The Father.
Knowing is over-rated. After all:
Scholars knew that the world was flat.
Astronomers knew that the sun revolved around the earth.
Engineers knew that the Titanic was unsinkable.
Fans and pundits knew that the Vikings would dominate this year.
Our “knowing” is over-rated. And Jesus is showing us that our faith is not about our “knowing” more. It is about “believing” more. It is about believing in the grace of God, even though we do not deserve it. There are things in our world that cannot be known…they can only be believed. The first step in believing is to admit that there are things we just cannot know.
It is only when we approach life from the posture of not knowing that we are stretched, in love, in trust and in faith.
This Advent season, let’s take seriously Jesus pronouncement that no one knows the day, the hour or the place of the Lord’s coming into the world. Advent is a season of heightened watchfulness, of wide-awake expectations, of wide-eyed wonder at what God is doing in our lives, in our church, and in our world.
You see, Jesus has this habit of “showing up” in our world and in our lives. And it’s usually at times and in ways that we don’t expect and that we can’t anticipate. In my life and my ministry I have experienced the presence of God in countless ways that I never would have expected. I was with our church’s disaster relief team to Biloxi a few weeks ago. 30 of us drove down, expecting to work and to serve; and we did. But Jesus showed up for us in ways we weren’t expecting. Jesus was in the face of the people at the local stores, who worked to figure out ways to get the most in basic living supplies with the donation money you sent us down there with. Jesus was in the faces of the pastor and the members of Bethel Lutheran. Though they had suffered damage in their own homes, they took time to welcome us into their community and to serve us.
Jesus was in the face of Eddie, a worker on an off-shore oil rig which was destroyed by Katrina. He asked if he could sleep in a tent outdoors that stored some of the donations and supplies. He stayed to serve at the distribution point. Our team went to Biloxi with the intent to serve; and we were served. We intended to give hope; and we received faith. We intended to love, and we were loved. Jesus showed up in ways I never expected.
And Jesus continues to bewilder me. I don’t know when he’s going to “show up”. I don’t know where he’s going to show up. I don’t know how he’s going to show up. But there is one thing that I do know: Jesus is going to show up. He is going to come to me when I least expect it. He is going to love me when I least deserve it. And he’s going to do the same thing for you. He promises. We don’t know what the future holds, but we do know who holds the future.
The Advent story is about Jesus Christ, being found in utterly surprising, unexpected circumstances.
Christ is born in the world. Christ is born in a nowhere town called Bethlehem. Christ is born in a smelly, dirty, manger. Christ is born a tiny, helpless, poor, powerless baby.
This is the last place we would expect to find the Son of God being born. Know-it-alls never found him in that stable, in the dark, in the manger. It was the shepherds and the wise men who just believed, who made their way to him. All who think they know where they will find the Christ-child will surely miss him. Christians are people not afraid to proclaim with their Lord, “I don’t know.”
Where will I find Christ this Christmas?
I don’t know.
Where will you find Christ this Christmas?
You don’t know.
But we do know that Jesus comes for each of us. With the gift of grace, of love, of eternal life. It is for you. So keep your heart, your spirit and your mind ready. Watch: Jesus Christ is going to “show up” for you, bearing the gift of love and grace.
Amen.
Mark 13:24-37
Todd Buegler
November 26 & 27, 2005
Lord of Life
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, and from Jesus the Messiah, who comes to each of us. Amen.
Since my ordination as a pastor at the end of September, I really haven’t had a public opportunity to say “thank you” for calling me as your pastor of youth and family ministries. Having been at Lord of Life as the Director of Youth and Family Ministries for over 18 years has been a privilege and an honor. To receive this call to now serve as a pastor is something for which I am very grateful. Over the years, you have been a blessing to me and my family. God is doing amazing things in our community; Thank you for allowing me to continue to be a part of it. My ordination affirmed my call to this congregation and to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. As an added side-benefit, it made my Mom really, really happy.
I have a belief that there are three words in the English language that are among the most difficult for us to say. In a society that expects quick, instant answers, being forced to say these words can put fear into the heart of presidents and kings, generals and business leaders, pastors and parents. What are these three simple words? I don’t know. No…I don’t mean that I don’t know what the words are…I mean that those three words are “I don’t know.”
Saying I don’t know can be an admission of our frailty, or our ignorance, or our ability. And in our hyper competitive culture, those are things we just don’t want to admit, and people will go to almost any lengths to avoid having to say them.
At one large university, it was the last day before the football team was to play its biggest game of the season. Unfortunately, the head football coach had just received the horrible news that his star quarterback had been disqualified by the dean for academic reasons. The coach went running to the dean’s office to protest. The dean said, “We caught him cheating on a major exam this week.” The coach demanded to know how they knew the quarterback had cheated. The dean said, “Well, he sat right next to an ‘A’ student, the best student in the class, and on the first nine questions, his answers were identical, word-for-word to the answers of the ‘A’ student.” Not satisfied, the coach replied, “That doesn’t prove he was cheating. Maybe he really studied this time. Or maybe the ‘A’ student copied from him.” The dean answered, “Actually it was the tenth question that really did it. The ‘A’ student had written, ‘I don’t know’, and the quarterback wrote, ‘I don’t know either.’”
Sometimes we’d just rather make something up, or cheat, or go to other drastic action to avoid finally admitting that we don’t know something. Heaven forbid, someone might see our flaws.
But we often confuse “not knowing” with failing. Not knowing all the answers, not finding the right solution among the choices laid out before you, doesn’t mean you’re a failure. A political pollster asked one person on election day whether he believed our political system was characterized by ignorance or by apathy. The respondent answered, “I don’t know and I don’t care.”
But just because you don’t know, doesn’t mean that you don’t care.
Not knowing things can keep you on your toes, keep your eyes open and your ear to the ground. And is there anything more annoying than a know it all? A know it all may think they have all of life’s answers, but they’ll never get any of life’s surprises.
This weekend is the first in the season of Advent. It is the beginning of the season where we prepare for Christmas. Advent is loaded with family traditions. Tonight, Lori, Nathan, Samuel and I will light our Advent wreath. We’ll open the daily advent calendar. In the next week or so we’ll get and decorate our tree. We’ll send and receive Christmas cards. These traditions are important to us. You probably have your own traditions, important to you.
Advent is a wonderful season because it is traditional and familiar. We know what to expect. One of the most popular Christmas songs ever is “I’m dreaming of a White Christmas…just like the ones I used to know.” This little phrase, “Just like the ones I used to know” is the essence of many of our Christmas celebrations. The risk in this is that we tend to view Jesus in the past tense, and forget about the Jesus of the present tense. We become know-it-alls about Advent, about Christmas, about Jesus.
Our Gospel lesson for today rattles our “know it all” cage a bit. Jesus has just identified himself as the “Son of God” for the only time in Mark’s Gospel. And His answer to the question of when He will return is: “No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son. Only the Father.” Jesus is the Son of God, and his answer is “I don’t know.”? What is that about?
If ever there was someone who knew the answers to all the hard questions, it was Jesus. But his “I don’t know” changed the focus of these Messiah conversations from what may or may not happen, or when these events may occur, to who is always and ever in charge: The Father.
Knowing is over-rated. After all:
Scholars knew that the world was flat.
Astronomers knew that the sun revolved around the earth.
Engineers knew that the Titanic was unsinkable.
Fans and pundits knew that the Vikings would dominate this year.
Our “knowing” is over-rated. And Jesus is showing us that our faith is not about our “knowing” more. It is about “believing” more. It is about believing in the grace of God, even though we do not deserve it. There are things in our world that cannot be known…they can only be believed. The first step in believing is to admit that there are things we just cannot know.
It is only when we approach life from the posture of not knowing that we are stretched, in love, in trust and in faith.
This Advent season, let’s take seriously Jesus pronouncement that no one knows the day, the hour or the place of the Lord’s coming into the world. Advent is a season of heightened watchfulness, of wide-awake expectations, of wide-eyed wonder at what God is doing in our lives, in our church, and in our world.
You see, Jesus has this habit of “showing up” in our world and in our lives. And it’s usually at times and in ways that we don’t expect and that we can’t anticipate. In my life and my ministry I have experienced the presence of God in countless ways that I never would have expected. I was with our church’s disaster relief team to Biloxi a few weeks ago. 30 of us drove down, expecting to work and to serve; and we did. But Jesus showed up for us in ways we weren’t expecting. Jesus was in the face of the people at the local stores, who worked to figure out ways to get the most in basic living supplies with the donation money you sent us down there with. Jesus was in the faces of the pastor and the members of Bethel Lutheran. Though they had suffered damage in their own homes, they took time to welcome us into their community and to serve us.
Jesus was in the face of Eddie, a worker on an off-shore oil rig which was destroyed by Katrina. He asked if he could sleep in a tent outdoors that stored some of the donations and supplies. He stayed to serve at the distribution point. Our team went to Biloxi with the intent to serve; and we were served. We intended to give hope; and we received faith. We intended to love, and we were loved. Jesus showed up in ways I never expected.
And Jesus continues to bewilder me. I don’t know when he’s going to “show up”. I don’t know where he’s going to show up. I don’t know how he’s going to show up. But there is one thing that I do know: Jesus is going to show up. He is going to come to me when I least expect it. He is going to love me when I least deserve it. And he’s going to do the same thing for you. He promises. We don’t know what the future holds, but we do know who holds the future.
The Advent story is about Jesus Christ, being found in utterly surprising, unexpected circumstances.
Christ is born in the world. Christ is born in a nowhere town called Bethlehem. Christ is born in a smelly, dirty, manger. Christ is born a tiny, helpless, poor, powerless baby.
This is the last place we would expect to find the Son of God being born. Know-it-alls never found him in that stable, in the dark, in the manger. It was the shepherds and the wise men who just believed, who made their way to him. All who think they know where they will find the Christ-child will surely miss him. Christians are people not afraid to proclaim with their Lord, “I don’t know.”
Where will I find Christ this Christmas?
I don’t know.
Where will you find Christ this Christmas?
You don’t know.
But we do know that Jesus comes for each of us. With the gift of grace, of love, of eternal life. It is for you. So keep your heart, your spirit and your mind ready. Watch: Jesus Christ is going to “show up” for you, bearing the gift of love and grace.
Amen.
Monday, November 21, 2005
Good
Last night was a good night. We had the third of our Sunday night gatherings for Jr. Highers in the confirmation program. It was a great night. Nate Burleson did the music. Happy Fun Time did improv comedy, Erik Steen did a great job with the videos, Pastor Peter did the talk, along with Tom Tipton... The whole thing flowed. It was what we wanted it to be.
I came home last night with the sense of "this is why I do what I do." It is a program. Programs are not a magic panacea that answers all problems or issues. Far from it. But when it does work, they are tools. And really, if we are going to do programs, and we should, shouldn't we do them well?
The theme was "God Creates." The primary focus was on how God continues to create...to be active in our world... Externally and internally. It is a matter of being able to name God in the midst of that process.
My hope is that God continues to create within our process.
I came home last night with the sense of "this is why I do what I do." It is a program. Programs are not a magic panacea that answers all problems or issues. Far from it. But when it does work, they are tools. And really, if we are going to do programs, and we should, shouldn't we do them well?
The theme was "God Creates." The primary focus was on how God continues to create...to be active in our world... Externally and internally. It is a matter of being able to name God in the midst of that process.
My hope is that God continues to create within our process.
Saturday, November 19, 2005
Old Vision
"If you're going to do things like you've always done them, you're going to get what you've always gotten."
I'm at at conference sponsored by the ELCA this weekend. The conference is a gathering of 250 people who are either synod evangelism specialists, or are a part of the Christian Educator's Network. It's been an interesting event. There are big parts of it that have been driving me crazy.
I can't seem to get anyone to understand what I mean when I talk ab out "language" as being a key to evangelism. Unfortunately, this event isn't about that.
I've heard mostly stuff that is repackaged from the past:
I'm at at conference sponsored by the ELCA this weekend. The conference is a gathering of 250 people who are either synod evangelism specialists, or are a part of the Christian Educator's Network. It's been an interesting event. There are big parts of it that have been driving me crazy.
I can't seem to get anyone to understand what I mean when I talk ab out "language" as being a key to evangelism. Unfortunately, this event isn't about that.
I've heard mostly stuff that is repackaged from the past:
- Hospitality needs to be a priority.
- We need to live the story.
- The story has power.
None of these things are wrong. But every time that they were spoken, I cringed just a little. They are the same things that we have been saying for what...10? 20? 30 years? And how well has that worked for us so far?
The ELCA has shrunk in membership. 10% of ELCA congregations have grown by an average of 1 member per year over the last 10 years. (Yes, I typed 1 member.) That means the other 90% have been stable or shrunk.
Evangelism hasn't worked for us.
Is it our culture?
Is it our methodology?
Yes.
It is not our theology and it is not our message. They are a constant and they are life-giving.
But we need a new language. Or maybe new languages. We need to speak to a culture who doesn't "get" us. We need change. I don't know what that change is yet, but we need to figure it out. It is a problem that needs to be solved.
I'm not sure that the people who are here are capable of figuring it out. I'm not sure that our church, institutaionally, has the courage it takes to make the kinds of changes, or to think in creative ways necessary to institute change.
More on the event later...
Friday, November 18, 2005
At the Smithville Methodist Church
At the Smithville Methodist Church
by Stephen Dunn
It was supposed to be Arts & Crafts for a week,
but when she came home with the "Jesus Saves" button,
we knew what art was up, what ancient craft.
She liked her little friends.
She liked the songs they sang
when they weren't twisting and folding paper into dolls.
What could be so bad?
Jesus had been a good man,
and putting faith in good men was
what we had to do to stay this side of cynicism,
that other sadness. OK, we said, One week.
But when she came home singing
"Jesus loves me, the Bible tells me so," it was time to talk. Could we say Jesus doesn't love you? Could I tell her the Bible is a great book certain people use to make you feel bad?
We sent her back without a word.
It had been so long since we believed,
so long since we needed Jesus as our nemesis and friend,
that we thought he was sufficiently dead,
that our children would think of him like Lincoln or Thomas Jefferson.
Soon it became clear to us: you can't teach disbelief to a child,
only wonderful stories, and we hadn't a story nearly as good.
On parents' night there were the Arts & Crafts all spread out like appetizers.
Then we took our seats in the church and the children sang a song about the Ark, and Hallelujah and one in which they had to jump up and down for Jesus.
I can't remember ever feeling so uncertain about what's comic, what's serious.
Evolution is magical but devoid of heroes.
You can't say to your child "Evolution loves you."
The story stinks of extinction and nothing exciting happens for centuries.
I didn't have a wonderful story for my child and she was beaming.
All the way home in the car she sang the songs, occasionally standing up for Jesus.
There was nothing to do but drive, ride it out,
sing along in silence.
by Stephen Dunn
It was supposed to be Arts & Crafts for a week,
but when she came home with the "Jesus Saves" button,
we knew what art was up, what ancient craft.
She liked her little friends.
She liked the songs they sang
when they weren't twisting and folding paper into dolls.
What could be so bad?
Jesus had been a good man,
and putting faith in good men was
what we had to do to stay this side of cynicism,
that other sadness. OK, we said, One week.
But when she came home singing
"Jesus loves me, the Bible tells me so," it was time to talk. Could we say Jesus doesn't love you? Could I tell her the Bible is a great book certain people use to make you feel bad?
We sent her back without a word.
It had been so long since we believed,
so long since we needed Jesus as our nemesis and friend,
that we thought he was sufficiently dead,
that our children would think of him like Lincoln or Thomas Jefferson.
Soon it became clear to us: you can't teach disbelief to a child,
only wonderful stories, and we hadn't a story nearly as good.
On parents' night there were the Arts & Crafts all spread out like appetizers.
Then we took our seats in the church and the children sang a song about the Ark, and Hallelujah and one in which they had to jump up and down for Jesus.
I can't remember ever feeling so uncertain about what's comic, what's serious.
Evolution is magical but devoid of heroes.
You can't say to your child "Evolution loves you."
The story stinks of extinction and nothing exciting happens for centuries.
I didn't have a wonderful story for my child and she was beaming.
All the way home in the car she sang the songs, occasionally standing up for Jesus.
There was nothing to do but drive, ride it out,
sing along in silence.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Monday, November 14, 2005
Sunday, November 13, 2005
What is Honest
A friend of mine made a comment last weekend that I have been wrestling with. He said that in his prayer life, it was becoming more important to him to "just be honest."
Intersting.
Why would you not be honest in prayer? What good would it do to not be honest, if God is indeed all-knowing.
It's not about God, is it? It is about our own need to put ourselves in the best possible light, for God's sake and even more for our own. We are always trying to justify ourselves...to rationalize to ourselves, to make ourselves right.
It can't be done.
So how to be honest in prayer? I suppose I need to just start out figuring out how to be honest in life.
That's a different topic.
Intersting.
Why would you not be honest in prayer? What good would it do to not be honest, if God is indeed all-knowing.
It's not about God, is it? It is about our own need to put ourselves in the best possible light, for God's sake and even more for our own. We are always trying to justify ourselves...to rationalize to ourselves, to make ourselves right.
It can't be done.
So how to be honest in prayer? I suppose I need to just start out figuring out how to be honest in life.
That's a different topic.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Academy
I'm in San Antonio for a planning meeting for the adult "Academy" at the ELCA Youth Gathering next summer.
I love the creative planning and dreaming process. The opportunity to dream about what kind of training the people who bring young people to the Gathering need, is really going to be fun. This is especially true when working on an project with the Gathering, which really has resources to throw around.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Saying What You Mean
This weekend 185 of our 10th graders affirmed their baptismal promises in the service of confirmation. It was a great weekend...a good celebration of faith...
It was interesting. There were many of the young people who were completely into the celebration. They were there because they "wanted" to make these promises their own and to enter into the life of the mystery of faith.
I also know that there were some young people who were completely going through the motions.
I love the young people who have strong faiths, who yearn to be challenged.
I love the young people who have doubts. Who wonder.
What drives me crazy are the young people (or any people) who are apathetic.
What do we do? How do we handle it? Do we "not" confirm? No, I don't think so. People are people and as God accepts them where they are at, we must also. Not everyone would agree with that. But it's where I'm at with it. So we confirm those who don't "deserve" it.
God's grace is not for those who deserve it.
God's grace is for me.
Confirmation is for them.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Time...
I've been too tired to write. Deep down tired.
We returned from our 8 days in Biloxi on Saturday night. There's not words to describe the experience. We blogged the trip on our web site.
Overall though, it was a powerful experience. 300 people a day...300 stories of pain. It sucks the energy right out of you. I have very rarely felt as useful and as needed as I did down there.
We returned from our 8 days in Biloxi on Saturday night. There's not words to describe the experience. We blogged the trip on our web site.
Overall though, it was a powerful experience. 300 people a day...300 stories of pain. It sucks the energy right out of you. I have very rarely felt as useful and as needed as I did down there.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Monday, September 26, 2005
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Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Home Today
I Drove today from Hattiesburg back up to Jackson. I visited Ascension Lutheran Church in Jackson. These are amazing people. They are working an unbelievable pace, putting in unbelievable hours to distribute goods and to "warehouse" donations heading for the coast.
It's an amazing process, and the are doing this important work with grace. Theyh are not warehouse managers...they are not logixtics specialists...
The Pastor hung up the phone, looked at me and grinned and said "I just got another forklift!"
These people are tired and in need of relief, support and prayer too. They are doing the "grind it out" work that just needs to happen. Thanks to God for their work.
It's an amazing process, and the are doing this important work with grace. Theyh are not warehouse managers...they are not logixtics specialists...
The Pastor hung up the phone, looked at me and grinned and said "I just got another forklift!"
These people are tired and in need of relief, support and prayer too. They are doing the "grind it out" work that just needs to happen. Thanks to God for their work.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Seeing is believing
There are not words to describe what I'm seeing in Biloxi.
It's surreal:
It's surreal:
- A McDonald's open for business like nothing is wrong, standing next to a Burger King which has been destroyed.
- Heavy traffic.
- RV and tent cities set up in the parking lots of K-Marts, Wal Marts and Save A Centers.
- Lines of cars to get free ice.
- Huge lines in the Wal Mart.
It's as if the destruction along Pass Road is "hit and miss." As if someone pointed at buildings one at a time and arbitrarily said "survive...survive...destroy...survive...destroy..."
Giant trees down everywhere.
The people are the most amazing though. The resiliancy awes me. The people at Bethel Lutheran are simply, quietly, going about the business of the Gospel. They are distributing food. They are distributing goods. 200-250 families a day. Amazing. They are not reflecting God's grace. They ARE God's grace.
The team gutting houses is working at a frantic pace. They are under a time limit before the mold becomes too significant. "Thank God for the Lutherans" a homeowner told me. "No one else is here in this neighborhood. Not FEMA, not the Red Cross, not even my own church...Thank God for the Lutherans."
The destruction along Hwy 90, the Beach highway, is a whole different story. I've never seen anything so complete. I've seen homes destroyed before, but they were always framed within the context of other homes that were fine, or several homes, but still within a neighborhood.
On 90, the destruction doesn't end. The only scene I can equate it to is the landscapes in the movie "Saving Private Ryan." The destruction, and rubble of burned out buildings goes on and on and on. But even the movie is in 2 dimensions. In 3 dimensions, Hwy 90 rocked my world. The power to destroy this way...I can't imagine it. And the people working in this area have a whole different demeanor. It's as if they are unaware of the rest of Biloxi...of the people in line in Wal Mart. These people are still, somehow, in rescue mode.
We will be back here in Mid October with a team. There is much to be done.
Our Habitat House!
The Habitat home our youth participated in building this past summer. It survived the storm.
Distribution of goods at Bethel Lutheran
The Fellowship Hall where our group ate its meals last summer, converted into a distribution center.
Monday, September 19, 2005
Arrived
I arrived safely. Yes, I have a place to stay. I was able to get into a Fairfield Inn in Hattiesburg, which is halfway between Jackson and Biloxi, so it will reduce my drive tomorrow, which is nice. They don’t have a room for tomorrow night though. I’m going to try to extend it in the morning. Otherwise I’ll have to figure something else out. It will all work out.
Interesting though, Hattiesburg is still 70 miles from the gulf coast. The hotel parking lots are filled with Electrical company trucks from all over the south (North Carolina…Missouri…Georgia…). It is the crews staying in the hotels, not necessarily refugees, though there are probably some of them too.
On the drive down, at 120 miles from the coast, I began to see trees down. From 90 miles out to Hattiesburg (70 miles out) the trees were down on the side of the road almost continuously. At the 90 mile mark I began to see roofs off of buildlings and signs blown out by wind. Here in Hattiesburg, 50% of the road signs were bent down or blown over. Made finding the right exit a challenge.
I saw several power poles knocked over too.
The town here seems crowded. Lots of cars. I suppose because people are away from the coast.
Tomorrow I’ll be up and on the road by 7 or 7:30am and on the road. I'll try to update with photos as I am able.
Interesting though, Hattiesburg is still 70 miles from the gulf coast. The hotel parking lots are filled with Electrical company trucks from all over the south (North Carolina…Missouri…Georgia…). It is the crews staying in the hotels, not necessarily refugees, though there are probably some of them too.
On the drive down, at 120 miles from the coast, I began to see trees down. From 90 miles out to Hattiesburg (70 miles out) the trees were down on the side of the road almost continuously. At the 90 mile mark I began to see roofs off of buildlings and signs blown out by wind. Here in Hattiesburg, 50% of the road signs were bent down or blown over. Made finding the right exit a challenge.
I saw several power poles knocked over too.
The town here seems crowded. Lots of cars. I suppose because people are away from the coast.
Tomorrow I’ll be up and on the road by 7 or 7:30am and on the road. I'll try to update with photos as I am able.
A Long Drive
I drove today from Jackson, Mississippi to Hattieburg, Mississipi. I was fairly stressed by the drive, mostly because the majority of it was spent on the phone trying to make sure I would have a hotel room. (I'm still not sure if it was Expedia.com or Super 8 who screwed my reservation up...doesn't matter...I'm done with both of them.)
Still, I found myself in a quandry...I'm uptight because I may or may not have a motel room. The people I am going to see may not have homes at all.
100 miles from the Gulf Coast and I began to see evidence of trees down...at 90 miles, portions of roofs were missing. In Hattiesburg, whole freeway signs are bent in half.
I can't imagine what I'll see tomorrow. Tonight is going to be an anxious night.
Still, I found myself in a quandry...I'm uptight because I may or may not have a motel room. The people I am going to see may not have homes at all.
100 miles from the Gulf Coast and I began to see evidence of trees down...at 90 miles, portions of roofs were missing. In Hattiesburg, whole freeway signs are bent in half.
I can't imagine what I'll see tomorrow. Tonight is going to be an anxious night.
Friday, September 16, 2005
Monday, September 12, 2005
Connected
Today I got through to Pastor Jerry Bultman, of Bethel Lutheran Church in Biloxi. For those of you who might have joined our show late, Bethel was the site where we stayed while we were down there working with Habitat for Humanity in june.
I've been in contact with the Habitat national office, Lutheran Disaster Relief and the Southeast Synod of the ELCA, offering our group to assist. We've received no response. Today they increased the capacity of the phone service and I was able to get through to Pastor Bultman.
He and his wife are living in the church until his home is repaired. His church is serving as a distribution site for assistance. He sounded tired. He should.
So Monday I leave for Biloxi. Actually, for Jackson. Then I'll drive to Biloxi.
I've traveled all over, most of it by road. Interestingly, I'm kind of nervous about this trip. Unknown. Crisis. Disaster. These are all words that can (and should) raise my blood pressure. It is going to be a vital trip. Our hope is to bring a group down 3 weeks later.
The only to really know what we'll need...what we'll do...how we'll do it...is to see it. To sit down with Pastor Bultman and to talk.
This is going to occupy much of my mind and heart in the next few weeks.
Please pray for these people.
I find it interesting that New Orleans is getting all of the attention, when the sheer destruction seems to be much more complete in the Mississippi area. Not that it's a competition. But I worry that those stories are not being told.
Pray.
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