Pages

Tuesday, January 9, 2018

Sermons: What Are You Listening For?


When is the last time a good friend of yours said, “Let’s listen to a sermon!” It’s probably been a long time, unless it was raised as an alternative to visiting the dentist or proctologist. Even then, at least these doctors do something practical for you. What of the soul doctors of the pulpit? They too offer something practical and of lasting, perhaps even, ever-lasting value. But what exactly is that? What are you listening for in a sermon? Maybe you aren’t really listening at all? The sermon is increasingly a strange beast in our culture of constant on demand content and content that constantly demands our attention.

Our expectation of the sermon, and thus, what we are listening for, are shaped by our experience of vocal communication in the wider culture, but also our own particular understanding of Christianity and often – even if we don’t know it – a particular denomination of tradition’s understanding of the role of preaching. People get annoyed or bored or upset with preachers when their understanding of the sermon’s role is in conflict with the preacher’s or tradition’s understanding of the sermon. There are dozens of ways of classifying sermon types and approaches. Let’s look at five: 

1.     The Sermon as Twitter Account

The sermon is purely the preacher’s opinion. They can use the pulpit to communicate whatever they feel like talking about. It may be informed by the texts assigned for the day, but ultimately it is a vehicle for the preacher to communicate private opinions and experiences on sundry subjects.  

2.     The Sermon as Life Message 

The sermon is a proclamation of the faith rooted in the assigned texts oriented toward the joys and challenges of daily living. The message must be rooted in the assigned texts and general Christian teachings, but the preacher’s job, with God’s help, is to connect text and tradition with daily life.

3.     The Sermon as History Lesson

The sermon is about scholarship. The sermon brings forth the vast riches of academic insight about particular texts and conveys them to the people. The message engages with commentaries, historical accounts, details, and more. The preacher’s job is to educate and sophisticate the congregation.

4.     The Sermon as Monologue

The sermon should be the ecclesiastical version of classic late night monologues. It should be funny, heart-warming, and perhaps have some helpful information or encouragement. The preacher’s job is to connect with the congregation, with emotional catharsis of some kind being a sign of success. 

5.     The Sermon as Social Expose

The sermon’s purpose is to comment on current social controversies. It should be bold and sometimes revolutionary. The Christian Tradition, especially its social justice movements and ideologies, are often the theological anchors of these sermons. The preacher’s job is to challenge and critique.

Each approach contains at least a modicum of truth or a potential purpose to the sermon, but perhaps some for more than others. Philosophical approaches to sermons aside, what sermons listeners often complain about are not content, but delivery and structure. “He’s so boring.” “She has no organization to what she says.” “It goes on and on and on.” “He talks about to many things.” “I can’t hear what she is saying.” Etc. What about you? What are you listening for in a sermon?" 

(Click here if you need an alternative to the dentist or proctologist or here for sermon listening tips)

Sunday, December 10, 2017

The Confusion of Calling


This is a reflection and place for dialogue on my sermon and related themes from the second Sunday of Advent, on the Gospel text from Mark 1:1-8

“I feel called to become a priest.” This is not unfamiliar language to Christians. For many, it is merely churchy code for, “I want to become a priest.” The problem with this gap in understanding is that Biblically, many people who were called by God, wanted to do anything but answer that call. Moses protested God’s call because he wasn’t a good speaker. The prophet Jeremiah said he was too young. Before his conversion, Paul had been persecuting Christians and the last thing he wanted, one could imagine, was becoming one of them.  The idea of a call has embodied within it the idea that God compels you, urges you or invites you to do something. Yes, you have to respond in the affirmative (as Blessed Mary did), though in the case of the prophet Jonah, sometimes saying no to God is difficult.

Traditionally, an individual’s call must be recognized both by the individual and the community. So it isn’t enough for Jane to say “God is calling me to be a priest. Ordain me already!” The community must also, through a careful process of discernment and prayer, affirm that sense of call. In some cultures and situations, it is actually the community that identifies the individual as having a calling. In most Christian Churches, both the individual and the community must recognize that call in order for the person to be ordained. Also, training requirements vary greatly across denominations, with some Churches emphasizing calling and the equipping power of the Holy Spirit well over training (and thus their training requirements are quite minimal or non-existent) and some Churches emphasizing preparation and professional training over a sense of spiritual call. For most denominations, the actual practice is somewhere in the middle.

Confusing and complicating all of this are questions of “what constitutes a sense of call?” Does it mean a man or woman simply enjoys helping other people? Does it mean that having some mysterious spiritual experience of call is necessary? These are all questions that have been debated and defined over the centuries. A more global concern is whether calling is the special province of clergy. It is not. All Christians receive callings. Indeed, people of no faith or other faiths will often express a sense of calling. The language being less churchy, “I felt this is what I should be doing.” “Things kept leading me to this field.” Even in secular literature and the experience of people who live without explicitly religious faith, many experience a sense of “things they should be doing” or “burdens that came to them” or “life missions.” I always encourage people to find a calling, not just job or a career. For many people, this sense is found in marriage and family life, and less so in their job which helps to support their genuine sense of calling to family life or a particular passion.

What did you hear in the sermon, in the text, or this reflection? What would you challenge, what would you add? What are you still wondering about?  

Sunday, December 3, 2017

Keep Awake!


This is a reflection and place for dialogue on my sermon and related themes from the first Sunday of Advent, on the Gospel text from Mark 13:24-37.

This passage, is which is known as the little apocalypse, has inspired much speculation, anxiety, and creative interpretation over the centuries. The Bible has several books or sections of books that feature apocalyptic writing, mostly famously, The Book of Revelation. This genre of Biblical literature deals with difficult subject matter like heaven, hell, judgment, and upheaval of the established order. 

Advent is an apocalyptic season of the Church year. This seems entirely strange and alien to the general spirit of “holiday cheer” going on around us. However, if you have ever seen a group of children tearing into their Christmas presents, with the wrappings flying in the air, and much “weeping and gnashing” of teeth over presents received and not received, you can find plenty of apocalyptic moments in the “most wonderful time of year” (never mind holiday traffic!). 

Advent readings, like Mark 13, put the Christian out of step with the pace of the world. We’re invited to “Keep Awake” and be ready for the return of the Savior, while the world is getting ready for Santa Claus, Christmas cookies and lots of holiday parties --- some with inappropriate drama, some with tippy toe family drama. For some, being awake this time of year is painful, because they are all too aware of what other people have and they do not. 

Mark 13 is a reminder to “Keep Awake,” which suggests, that perhaps many of us are, for all intents and purposes, sleep walking our lives away. It might also suggest that we need spiritual lasik surgery in order to truly see what matters in life. Jesus’ return or our return to Jesus will put everything in our lives in perspective. One woman facing breast cancer put it this way:

“You take a long look at your life and realize that many things that you thought were important before are totally insignificant. That’s probably been the major change in my life. What you do is put things in perspective. You find out that’s like relationships are really the impost things you have -=-- the people you know and your family – everything else is just way down the line. It’s strange that it takes something so serious to make you realize that.”
In a sense, cancer is an unwanted apocalyptic event. It upheaves a life. It brings fear of death and whether from God or a person’s own conscience, brings judgment. This comparison can be pushed too far, but certainly, the idea of Christ’s return or our own return to Christ should carry with it a force that rouses us to reflection and not merely morbid anxiety.
What did you hear in the sermon, in the text, or this reflection? What would you challenge, what would you add? What are you still wondering about? 

Saturday, July 29, 2017

Politician for Christ: William Wilberforce


A politician for Christ? Surely, I must be joking. Such is the collective state of our culture that even believers, much less our good-willed friends of other faiths and none, roll their eyes at the very idea. The idea in question, a politician who takes her or his faith seriously, usually stirs images of suit and tie prayer breakfasts and perhaps most of all: of specific voting records on a handful of controversial topics (and maybe, also, some hypocrisy). 

The slave trade in the 1780s was becoming a controversial issue. For a large majority of the population is was part of the status quo of society. It was accepted as a fact of life. This “fact” was being challenged. William Wilberforce at this time was a young man of independent wealth and growing power. He was elected to his first seat in the British Parliament at the age of twenty one when he was still a student at St. John’s, Cambridge. 

Wilberforce was the son, nephew, and grandson of prosperous freemen, who had made their fortunes in business. As a boy he had been influenced by his aunt who was a committed Anglican Christian of the evangelical sort. However, this influence faded and he grew to be a popular boy: partying, drinking, and gambling in high society. He was known for his wit, his cheerful manner, and his singing voice. 

He was also known as a man endowed with impressive gifts of persuasion and oratory. Wilberforce was a slight man, not physically impressive, and plagued by a variety of health problems for his entire life. Yet, one contemporary, observing him in the House of Commons said, “I saw what seemed a mere shrimp mount upon the table; but as I listened, he grew, and grew, until the shrimp became a whale."

Near the beginning of his political career he had a conversion experience. He seriously considered dropping out of politics all together in order to dedicate himself to a life of prayer and reflection. His former pastor, John Newton, and his friend, William Pitt, urged him to remain in politics. Newton in particular urged him to bring his faith to his work. For the next forty years that is what Wilberforce did.

This striving is most famously known and celebrated in his tireless work to end the slave trade in the British Empire as portrayed in the inspiring 2006 movie, Amazing Grace. However, Wilberforce’s reforming interests were many. He manifested the daily challenge of every Christian who works in the world: discernment. Whether politician, farmer, scientist, plumber, actress, or accountant, every Christian has to practice and exercise discernment.

How can I with my particular gifts, resources, and limitations best live out Jesus’ Great Command to “Love God and neighbor?” What can I generously allow? What must I speak out against? What can I say or do that will make a difference? What can I refuse to say or do that will make a difference? If I feel called to make a stand or challenge the status quo am I doing it out of love or out of self-righteousness? Is this about me or the common good?

William Wilberforce’s life, celebrated on July 29 in the Episcopal Church, powerfully illustrates that to be a Christian is not a Sunday only activity and that real Christian impact is not limited to Church circles. Christian witness is not only about inviting the world to Christ, but about bringing Christ to the world’s problems, global and local. What are you doing with your influence? Who are you helping? Start with something small. In small things faithfulness is grown and shown. 

Thursday, March 30, 2017

Poet-Priest With 12 Kids: John Donne


John Donne is remembered as many things: lawyer, priest, and poet. The last designation is probably the one he is most well-known by. In his earlier days, he wrote erotic poetry, and then and later, religious, and is perhaps most famous for penning the phrases, “no man is an island” and “any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.” Among students of literature he is hailed among the metaphysical poets for his wit, depth, and vernacular use of language in poetry. 

He lived in the 17th century which was known for its terrible religious debates and persecutions (of Roman Catholic Christians in England and of Protestant Christians in France). He was destined for a career as an ambassador, but because his family was Roman Catholic and he was initially unwilling to join the Anglican Church (which was required in England at the time to be a diplomat) he and his wife Anne lived in a constant state of poverty and destitution. Anne gave birth to 12 children (as was common place then, not all of them survived). 

Eventually, he was persuaded by the King to seek Anglican ordination and eventually was appointed Dean of St. Paul’s, Cathedral, London, which was and is (click here) a church of considerable influence. His eloquent preaching drew many to St. Paul’s and resulted in his wielding a considerable influence near and far. Donne had experienced an array of life’s experience from being a courtier on the rise, a romantic lover and traveler, a father trying to provide for a large family, and a devoted husband who deeply grieved his wife’s death.

Donne is not the poster-boy for the stereotypes that people often have of priests and more generally speaking, Christians. His life reflected very human interests and very human troubles. These served him well in the task of preaching the Gospel which he did ably in the pulpit but also ably with the pen. It is a shame that poetry is not cultivated, shared, and published more widely in our local churches. Both the poetry of the greats, Christian and otherwise, and the poetry of the people of our congregations and local communities. 

John Donne’s commemoration in the Episcopal Church, falls on March 31, which makes for a nice prelude to April’s National Poetry month in the United States and Canada. Regardless of where we live, the remembrance of John Donne the priest-poet should stir us to remember that words can express the heart of the human experience and that God Himself choose to become The Word and live among us (John 1). In this way, not only are preachers and priests kin to poets in their sacred speech, so are all Christians when they speak a word of faith.

Friday, March 24, 2017

Failed Hermit becomes Best Seller: Walter Hilton


March 24 (in the Church of England) and September 28 (The Episcopal Church) is the feast of Walter Hilton. He lived in 14th century England. He ended his life as an Augustinian priest in the priory at Thurgarton, which today remains an active parish church. Hilton had studied canon law before exploring his spirituality more dramatically. At the time, a number of individuals had embraced a solitary form of Christian living as a means of attaining holiness and union with Christ. The most famous of these solitaries today is Hilton’s near contemporary, Julian of Norwich. 

After a time, Hilton abandoned the solitary life of a hermit and joined the community life of the Priory in Thurgarton. We aren’t told why he choose community life over solitary life, but one can speculate: loneliness, the blessings of common prayer and Eucharist, opportunities to serve Christ through love of neighbor, better Wi-Fi, and so on. The fact is, we cannot be certain. What we can be certain about, is that Hilton, went on to write about the spiritual life in a way that captured the imagination of the people of his time: clergy, religious (monks, nuns, etc.), and laity alike.

His two most popular and well known works, “The Scale of Perfection” and “The Mixed Life” were best sellers in the 14th and 15th centuries. These works drew upon earlier sources from the deep wells of the Christian Spiritual Tradition, but also reflected his own experience of seeking God and in providing direction to others. They reflect theological rigor, but also a gentle and Christ-like common sense, sensitive to the weakness of the human condition even under the restoring and reforming effects of the Holy Spirit. 

On one occasion, a man of some importance, with considerable worldly responsibilities, wrote to Hilton asking whether he should abandon his duties (and presumably his family) in order to enter a monastery. Hilton encouraged him to seek God where he was in the midst of his busy demands and responsibilities. In other words, Hilton acknowledged that a spiritual life of weight, depth, and profundity could be graced to a man in the world; that while desirable for some, entrance into a monastery was not necessary to achieve the way of Jesus. 

This message hit a chord with women and men, priests and monks, the married and the unmarried in Hilton’s time. Hilton’s writings point to a deep immersion in the truth, presence, and love of God, which requires climbing a spiritual ladder from height to height. This tells us that there are higher hills in the Christian faith that we have yet to climb. With Christ’s grace and the advice of good spiritual trail guides, like Walter Hilton, may we carefully hike out from the easy flats to the rugged heights of God’s love.

Friday, March 17, 2017

A Slave before a Saint: Patrick of Ireland


March 17th is Saint Patrick’s Day. A day when people wear green, drink beer (Guinness, please) and engage in some good old fashion mischief (there are also others who use it as an excuse for some old fashion not so good mischief!). Even those with Irish ancestry and/or Christian faith (here I am) often know little about the man whose day inspires celebration; save a story or two, like Patrick using the Shamrock to teach about the Trinity or Patrick running the snakes out of Ireland (in fact, there never were rolling reptiles in the emerald isle). 

There are endless legends about St. Patrick. On one occasion he and his companions were being hunted down by a local ruler. When the ruler with his warriors hustled to where Patrick and his disciples had run off, all he saw was a herd of deer. Of course, they were Patrick and his followers transformed by God’s miraculous intervention. Unfortunately, God never changed them back and they had to hoof about from that day forward (just kidding). There are spiritual lessons in these sorts of stories, but the actual events of his life, inspire tremendously more. 

Patrick was born sometime in late 4th Century England. He came from a well to do family with a strong Christian heritage; his grandfather was a priest, and his dad was a deacon and a minor official in the declining Roman Empire. For most people in the 4th Century life was rough, but Patrick enjoyed a much easier life because of his family’s reputation and wealth. This all ended for Patrick around the age of sixteen when he was captured by Irish raiders. Upon arrival in Ireland he was sold as a slave, made to tend sheep and live among people he did not know. 

During this time Patrick’s faith came alive. In his Confession, he writes, “And there the Lord opened the consciousness of my unbelief so that…I might turn with a whole heart to the Lord my God, Who turned His gaze round on my lowliness and took pity on my adolescence and ignorance and kept watch over me before I knew Him.” Somehow, many years later, Patrick escaped his enslavement and made his way back to England. He sensed a calling to the priesthood, and while he struggled with the academics, he was eventually ordained. 

This story alone would be a wondrous one, but the power of St. Patrick’s life is that he could not put the Irish people out of his mind. He had a vision where an Irish youth bid him return and preach the Gospel. If you had been kidnapped from your people, enslaved away to a foreign country across the sea and somehow managed to escape, what are the odds you would return at great personal sacrifice to preach a Gospel of love? That is what Patrick did! He convinced the authorities in England to send him as a missionary bishop to the Irish.

Much more could be said about the most well-known of Ireland’s three patron saints (the two others being Saint Columba and Saint Brigid), from his openness to Irish culture and spirituality, which in many cases was woven into the new faith, to his missionary zeal and humility. Patrick’s story is a reminder that whatever your circumstance or mine, God can find us and God can use the blackest moments of our lives to bring light and salvation to others. That by itself, parades and shamrocks aside, is worth celebrating.