Thursday, December 18, 2008

2008 Special Christmas Offering

Last week and this week we collect the Christmas Special Offering, one of six special offerings sponsored each year by the general church. This offering goes to support the work of the regional church, in our case the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in West Virginia.

It is difficult to understate the importance of the work of the regional church. They sponsor workshops and retreats for all ages and parts of the church (youth, women, men, elders, others). They facilitate training and support for congregational leaders and pastors. They assist congregations through transitional times and through times of conflict or other severe challenges.

Can a church get by without such things? I suppose so. But then again, I also suppose that a church can get by without a large building or without a pastor. The question is not one of necessity, but one of choice. How do we choose to be the church? What resources allow us to share the gospel with each other (and others yet) best? In my opinion, the regional church allows congregations to live out the gospel and their ministries more fully; as such, I think they deserve our support (financial and otherwise).

Here is a video produced by the Office of Communication in Indianapolis (I met the person who does this work in September -- she's on the ball. Not only is the office producing better videos under her watch, but they're using technology better. Not only did we receive a DVD of this to show, but they put the video on YouTube. Yes, Virginia, old dogs can learn new tricks. But I digress.)


Wednesday, December 17, 2008

A Blockbuster Spiritual Direction

There are several good religious flavored online videos floating around, but this is a great new one. Hopefully it puts a smile on your face.


The Region Wants Your Input

I hope that you've been reading the advent devotionals that have been distributed at church, especially the one featuring the West Virginia region's ministers. (This is not a pop quiz or a "gotcha"; I've been reading them and I've found them helpful.)

If you have been reading the regional devotional, the regional office has posted an online survey trying to get feedback to the devotional (I think in an effort to plan possible future resources). If you have a chance, please follow this link to take the survey (hosted by a site called Survey Monkey). It only takes a couple of minutes and the feedback would be useful.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

A Faith Story for a Snowy Evening

While doing some reading today, I came across a story that I thought some other people might find interesting, especially as it sheds some light on the possibilities -- even among challenges -- of spiritual growth in the church. The following story dramatically illustrates how that spiritual growth is sometimes, necessarily, a communal thing. (It also, happily, fits into our current theme of "faith stories.")

This story is from Christianity for the Rest of Us: How the Neighborhood Church is Transforming the Faith by Diana Butler Bass (HarperSanFrancisco, 2006). In this book, Bass relates several personal stories -- the names of the churches and pastors are accurate, the names of the others in the story are pseudonyms.

One afternoon, a group of us gather for lunch to talk about Saint Mark [a Lutheran congregation in Virginia]. Most of the people in the group are long-term members of twenty years or more. Everyone talks about how much the church has changed in recent years, how "Pastor is growing the church spiritually," as June puts it. "We Lutherans may have spirituality," she says, "but we don't talk about it very well! We are learning to talk about it." They begin to tell me stories of deepened faith, of how much more meaningful being Christians has become to them. When it comes to Barbara and John, the conversation stops, the others waiting in respectful silence, as if not sure what their friends will say. But Barbara and John want to share. They vividly remember when their spiritual lives changed and their church became their family in a new way.

One April day in 2002, the Hickmans received a phone call. Linda, their daughter-in-law, a young mother of a toddler, had died. The police said it appeared to be a suicide. In complete shock, Barbara and John phoned their pastor, Rev. Gary Erdos. Gary told them to wait at home; he would accompany them to their son's house.

Gary later told me that when he arrived at the Hickmans' house, Barbara and John were in the driveway. "Barbara was physically shaking, mumbling that she didn't know how she was going to make it through this." John was talking to a neighbor, and Gary overheard him saying, "God has brought us to our knees before, now our faces are in the dirt." Gary hugged them (Barbara and John warmly remember this kindness) and drove them to their son's house.

When they arrived, Barbara and John worried about how their daughter-in-law's body would be handled. Unable to view the tragedy themselves, they asked Gary to make sure "she was all right." Would he go with the coroner and deputies to tend her body? Although he had never seen a violent death before, Gary agreed. Barbara sighs, "He treated her like a person instead of a crime scene." After Linda's body was removed, John asked, "Do you think she's in heaven?" When Gary answered yes, John said, "Good. Because I don't want to go there if she isn't."

Barbara and John confess that in the midst of their deep sorrow and confusion, they also felt mortified. After all, a member of their family had committed suicide, an act that some think is the unforgivable sin. How would their congregation react? Would anyone care? Could they hold her funeral in the church? Would people understand? Where would she be buried?

Barbara shakes as she tells the story. John puts an arm around the back of her chair, gently supporting his wife. Gary, she tells me, "was amazing," insisting that the family hold the funeral at Saint Mark. To Barbara and John's astonishment, hundreds of people gathered to celebrate Linda's life. There was no gossip, no hints of judgment, and no intimations of blame or shame. Rather, the congregation did everything possible to support and care for the family, especially their son and granddaughter. John said, "I'm ashamed for speaking of how our face was in the dirt, because Saint Mark has picked us up and carried us through all of it in Jesus' name. I believe we have seen Jesus."

At the time, the congregation at Saint Mark had just renovated its building, turning a dilapidated nursery into a chapel. The chapel is airy, marked by a sense of spiritual openness, with glass, white walls, and light-hued wood. Directly opposite the entry is a small pulpit. The wall behind the pulpit is a honeycomb of nooks, a few with elegant pottery, the only decoration in the room.

The first time I saw that chapel, I thought it a creative way to display art--until I looked closer and realized that it is a columbarium. The pottery jars are urns artfully designed to reflect the person whose ashes they hold.

The most beautiful urn is a vibrant sea-blue, encircled by a gold metal sculpture of three swimming dolphins, two adults and a baby. It holds Linda's ashes. "She loved the ocean," John explains. "The dolphins represent their family." Barbara says, "The church president insisted that she be the first person placed in the new columbarium." She continues, "He wouldn't let us pay. He said, 'We know you can afford to pay for it, but if you would like to bury Linda at the church, giving this to you is something we all believe to be a way we can live out Jesus' command to love God and love our neighbor.'" The congregation, she says, "took a tragedy and created redemption."

Across the table, Sarah looks at them with tears in her eyes. "It meant a lot to all of us," she assures them. "If you ever get a notion that you aren't loved around here, someone will correct it." As another woman told me, "Saint Mark has truly become our extended family." (pp. 65-68)


To my mind, there are several amazing parts to this story that bear consideration in our own faith lives. In the first place, it is a sign of wonderful growth and spiritual confidence that this couple shared this story. There are times when we may speak of painful things in our lives because we absolutely need to tell someone; other times we generally shy away from talking about pain (unless we're trying to commiserate with someone else undergoing an ordeal). But this couple openly talks about this painful, and very much spiritually shaping, experience. By sharing this story, this couple not only reminds themselves of the hand of God in their lives, but they tell others.

This is a key reason why I've been focusing on faith stories recently in our church (though, as you'll see below, not the key reason why I share this story with you). The sharing of this stories is transforming for those who tell them and those who hear them. This story is a reminder that sometimes in our dark world, even in the worst times, love can be stronger than fear, and God will embrace us (if only we'll recognize it). But less dramatic (though sometimes no less painful) stories can remind us -- teach us, encourage us -- of the same thing. Which is why we, as people of faith, must learn to speak more openly about our faith. It is essential to our personal growth and the growth of others around us.

But beyond this, I am amazed at the story itself. Suicide is one of the hardest issues for Christians because it challenges us in several ways -- confronting our beliefs about the value of life with our imperative to reach out to others (especially those we know by name) in times of distress and grief; confronting our morality about parental/social responsibility with the needs of those left behind; confronting our need for meaning, or at least rational explanation, of unexpected death with our own ambivalence about the mechanics of someone taking their own life. Some Christians handle this well; but too often, someone -- or lots of someones -- say and do some truly idiotic and almost mean-spirited things.

Instead, we are faced with a congregation that instinctively lives out the commandment to love one another, that understands the responsibilities and the opportunities that being a family of faith entails during the hard times. A pastor that confronts his own fears (being with the body) to support the family; a pastor that insists on having the funeral at the church (without, evidently, a congregational board meeting to discuss the matter -- and if you don't think there are influential people in most churches who would complain about such a thing, you're living in fantasyland). A congregation that supports the family, first by coming to the funeral, but then in other (mostly unnamed) ways, but in one essential named way: "there was no gossip, no hints of judgment, and no intimations of blame or shame."

You can't fake that type of Christian love. In some churches, some people might have faked nice behavior, at least through the funeral, but over time the gossip and the judgement would have come out -- and the family would learn of it, indirectly, unless of course the fellow church member decided to confront them with it directly. (I've heard those stories too, sometimes from people who've left churches after being treated that way.)

Instead, "the congregation took a tragedy and created redemption." They took a destructive situation that could have been made worse if they had acted poorly, and instead acted so well that they made it almost unimaginably better. Two long-time members could have become disenchanted by the church; now they swear by it's power and influence in their lives because they have lived it (and one imagines, continue to live it).

I do not know how Central Christian would react in a similar situation (and, like you, I hope to not find out). I believe we would act nobly and lovingly, that we would be supportive to a fault, as long as we weren't "afraid of intruding" on a "family situation." Though there are always fears that people might act foolishly or poorly -- including the pastor himself.

But putting that aside, I am convinced that we must all have ways that the church has touched our lives powerfully for the better, that we must be, as a congregation, a family of faith -- tethered together in relational bonds. If we're not doing this, or at least working toward this, I'm worried that we're not doing what we should be doing as a congregation to live out the gospel. I believe we are doing this, but it's not just my opinion/belief that counts in this case.

In any case, I pass this story along hoping it will speak to you, causing you to reflect on your faith even as it encourages your faith. As it has spoken to me today.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Coming Up Sunday, December 14; Questionnaire

On Sunday, we'll enjoy a presentation from our youth, a retelling of the timeless story of Jesus' birth. In order to incorporate the Christmas play, the worship service will be slightly rearranged, and our scripture readings and some of the hymns will be incorporated into the play. It should be an enjoyable morning.

Also, for the next two weeks, we'll be distributing and collecting year-end questionnaires about the ministry of Central Christian Church. These questionnaires are my idea alone (yes, the pastor is calling an audible) and are intended to gain a clearer understanding of where we think we are and where we think we are going. I hope that you'll put some thought into these questions (which appear below) and share your comments. In January, I'll share the results, and add my own thoughts -- rest assured, anonymity will be preserved (though, if you want me to know that your thoughts are your thoughts, you may sign your questionnaire -- I'll be the only one looking at them).

Here are the questions:
  • What are your overall impressions of Central Christian?
  • In the past year, what are the main successes of Central Christian?
  • What has disappointed you at Central Christian in the past year?
  • What would you like to see Central Christian do in the coming year?
  • Do you feel comfortable inviting people to worship at Central Christian? Why or why not?
  • Other comments
I know that churches often pass out surveys or questionnaires. I also know that these churches seem to merely collect these surveys or questionnaires and then forget about them. That is not my intent (in those other churches' defense, I'm sure it's not their intent either). At the very least, I will share the results of these questionnaires and my impressions at the Cabinet meeting in early January (Saturday, Jan. 10 from 10:00 am to Noon if you want to put it on your calendar), with the expectation that this will guide some of our planning for the coming year.

Friday, December 12, 2008

Christmas Time: From the Screen to the Stable

As many of you know, I'm putting together a Christmas concert -- with the help of Brooks and Leigh Anne. Saturday, December 20 at 7:00 at Central Christian. Bring your friends. Tell your neighbors. Tell random people you meet on the street.

And if you want, here's a flyer you can pass along to anyone interested. Here's what it looks like:


If you'd like to share this, you may pick up copies from me, email me and I can send you a .pdf file that you can send via email. Or you can download a .pdf version of it here.

Baby Pictures

So, I've been very behind in my blogging (perhaps you've noticed) and I am long-overdue in posting some photos of my new nephew. Just today, my sister reminded me of this fact. So, let me fix that with some pictures of Sean Raymond.

Meet Sean. He's strong.

Here's a tired Sean with my sister Emily.
.

And here is Sean with his proud papa Dan.

Online Advent Devotional

The regional office has created an online advent devotional, with material written by ministers from around West Virginia (including a couple by me). This devotional is included in the worship bulletin, but it is also accessible here:

http://prayerscapes.wordpress.com

May this add to the meaning of your holiday season.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

for Bill; a memoriam

I learned Monday morning that my teacher and friend Bill Placher died unexpectedly over the weekend. It was a shock, to say the least, as Bill was only 60.

In one of the ironies of life, I was thinking about Bill on my drive from Indianapolis to West Virginia last weekend and planned to write him an email this week. Instead, I'll be driving for much of Saturday to attend his memorial service in the Wabash College chapel in Crawfordsville, Indiana.

I expect that many others will be making the drive. Bill was an exemplary teacher at our college (from which he graduated in 1970 and to which he returned to teach full-time in 1975) for almost 35 years, touching countless lives with his intelligence, his graciousness, his humor, and his compassion. In announcing his death, the Wabash College website unabashedly says "Legend Lost."

Bill was a real-life legend. In part, this was because Bill was one of the most prolific authors on our college faculty, which we as students took to mean that he was the college's most influential scholar in the larger academic world. (In hindsight, I think that we failed to recognize, or even realize, the influences of others on the faculty within their academic disciplines, and we almost certainly over-imagined Bill's influence. At least, I know Bill would say we over-imagined his influence.)

But Bill's legend came mostly from his interactions in the classroom. In a college filled with scholars who were passionate about teaching, Bill was the ideal. He had the uncanny ability to lead classroom discussions that explored topics with depth and sophistication, guided by his well-timed questions and answers and by Bill's almost singular ability to take the most convoluted student question or comment and highlight its particular philosophical relevance to the discussion at hand. (Click here for another Wabash reflection on Bill's teaching.) And Bill always did this with great warmth and affection for his students and no small amount of humor.

After leaving Wabash, I unconsciously compared my teachers to Bill for quite a while (and almost always with disappointment). That was foolish on my part, and Bill almost certainly would have been disappointed to hear it (I don't believe I ever told him). But those comparisons grow out of my own quite conscious self-image that I am primarily, even as a pastor, a teacher, and I often compare myself to Bill. I know I do not meet his high standards, but I always strive to be more like him -- to be more approachable, more gracious, more thoughtful, more receptive to the great nuggets of wisdom lying behind other peoples questions and answers -- even as I know that I will never match him because I do not have his unique combination of gifts. As I write this, I can hear Bill lightly contradicting me, telling me (probably in an off-handed, joking way) that he simply did what he could in the classroom, and that I should do the same and not worry about it. But I know he cared passionately about his teaching, as I know he knew I care passionately about mine, and passionate people never really stop worrying about such things, even though we grow more comfortable with our own strengths and weaknesses.

I cannot remember the first time I met Bill. I know that I knew him long before I ever took a class with him, and I already trusted his council and advice. We had too many conversations to remember when I was at Wabash on a whole range of issues. But like many of Bill's students, it was my conversations after I graduated that I value most. Bill never forgot his students, and he always wanted to know what we were up to. More than that, he was always available for advice, and I trusted Bill's advice highly.

After I graduated, we had a series of frank conversations about my future. At that time, I expected to immediately work toward a Ph.D. and pursue teaching in a college. He offered me lots of good advice, including some books to read about what I might be getting myself into. He offered me his unvarnished opinion of my prospects, during which he was equally candid about his own career. And he suggested (more than once) that I should also consider becoming a minister (not instead, but perhaps alongside an academic career); eventually I even listed to him. So for those who think that my being a minister is a good thing, one of the main people you have to thank is Bill.

Selfishly, I will miss Bill's advice in the future. For a long time I have anticipated asking Bill how to do certain things when I got closer to actually doing them, like trying to earn a Ph.D. while pastoring or trying to write and publish a book. Like many others, I always assumed that he would be there.

And I will miss Bill's continued teaching. I was fortunate to spend some time with Bill when he was on sabbatical in Chicago while I was studying there. We talked about countless things, and he heard some of my earliest sermons -- including my first effort to preach on Ecclesiastes, which is unquestionably the worst sermon I've ever given. When I said that to Bill after the service, he laughed, and then said, matter-of-factly, "The gospel was preached," which I think was his way of saying that I took the Biblical text seriously and faithfully, if not necessarily competently. Since then, I've always set that as my goal, and taken comfort that "the gospel was preached" regardless of how "well" the preacher preached.

But more than that, I will miss my conversations with Bill, which ranged through all sorts of topics. Over time we discovered that we were both students of Abraham Lincoln, and we talked about the new books being published. We talked about sports and the news. We talked about our beloved alma mater, its goods and its bads. During one visit, he proudly took me on an impromptu tour of the nearly completed athletic facility and science building, and we marveled at the positive changes at Wabash -- an early experience for me of how Wabash will change during the rest of my life, and yet another one for him who had seen thirty years of change at his Wabash.

In death, Bill becomes one of Wabash's ever-present ghosts, a giant whom many future students will hear stories about, just as I heard stories of ghosts who preceded my time as a student there, just as Bill surely heard stories of ghosts who preceded his time. Bill, as the acknowledged, if unofficial, historian of Wabash knew more about those ghosts than anyone else. I just wish that future students could experience Bill at his best, in conversation in the classroom, rather than through his writing or through countless stories about him.

In Narratives of a Vulnerable God, which is probably Bill's most influential book, Bill wrote at the end of the Acknowledgments:

I have dedicated the book to my students at Wabash. Their interest and friendship has been one of the joys of my life for nearly twenty years now. One of those students, Steve Webb, has become my friend and colleague, and an ongoing conversation with him has been one of the two principal influences on this book -- the other being an ongoing conversation with the memory of Hans Frei.

I immediately connected with this passage, not so much for the dedication to the students -- after all the book was published before I met Bill and was one of his students -- but for Bill's description of his ongoing relationship with his advisor from Yale, the noted narrative theologian Hans Frei. I thought at the time that it was a graceful way to describe my intellectual debt to Abraham Lincoln. In many ways, even though I never met Lincoln, I have an ongoing conversation with his memory.

Now, sadly, I imagine that I will experience a relationship more akin to the one Bill alludes to with his teacher. I know Bill has had a tremendous impact on my life and my thinking. In the past year, in my sermons I have mentioned Lincoln several times, and made a few references to Reinhold and H. Richard Niebuhr, who also have greatly influenced me. But it is no accident that I have mentioned Bill more often than anyone else (and have probably thought of him and his teaching more than I've mentioned him). I will miss my friend, Bill. In the years ahead, I must content myself with the gift of his legacy to me and others, an ongoing conversation with the memory of Bill Placher.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Coming Up Sunday, November 16

Sunday we continue our series on faith stories by finishing up our look at our congregational faith story. Having considered the heritage of our past and the challenges of our present, we are going to peer into the future to see if we can imagine what our church will look like in a few years.

There is no real science to telling the future -- it is most definitely more of an art. I think that if we are honest about history and present conditions, and we are creative and imaginative, we can sketch a pretty compelling portrait of the future. And that is what I hope to do Sunday.

We have some challenges to face, but we also have some significant opportunities. Some cultural shifts challenge the very nature of what we do; some make what we do (particularly as Disciples) more appealing.

We'll read a bit from Paul's letters to the Philippians, which has an important suggestion about how God expects us as Christians to face the future. And then we'll talk specifically about some things we can do in the coming months to build on our strengths and minimize our challenges.

Don't forget: Very important congregational and board meetings Sunday after service. We have important business to vote on (an important part of that building for our future).

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Coming Up Sunday, November 2

We'll have a low-key celebration of Central Christian's 115th anniversary on Sunday. (Don't forget to reset your clocks so you're not early.) We'll share breakfast together before worship, which should be an enjoyable way to kick off the day.

In worship, we'll continue our focus on faith stories by considering the faith story of Central Christian. Sunday we'll look at Central Christian's history -- 115 years of ministry in the community of Fairmont.

Not all churches make 115 years -- in fact, a great many do not last more than a couple of generations, so we have much to celebrate. But we also have much to learn. How are we like the church that started 115 years ago? How are we different? Do we know much about our past -- our heritage?

Unlike some churches, not one member of our congregation was around when Central Christian first worshiped together in 1893. We don't know a lot about them, and we have few definite reminders of our predecessors -- some photographs, some names, a stained glass window from the previous church building. Of course, we've not totally lost our memories -- we have long-time members (some of 60, 70, even 80 years).

So what is our heritage? And how should that heritage influence what we should do in the future? This is a part of our shared faith story that we will think about on Sunday.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Ordination Reflections

It was a real pleasure for me to spend a couple of days with my friend Chris and his wife, particularly to participate in his ordination on Sunday afternoon. Chris had a bang-up weekend, receiving his Ph.D. on Friday and being ordained a minister in the United Church of Christ on Sunday. It was a time to celebrate.

And I was thrilled to be able to celebrate with my friend. He deserved this weekend, with all of the hard work and headaches that have been a part of the journey. And there have been many headaches, especially with the church. Without going into details, I should simply say that Chris should have been ordained long before I was, but was not, due to an astonishing array of obstacles.

For all of its lovingness, the church (as it is manifested in various places and at various times) can be unbelievably unfriendly and unsupportive. For having the wisdom of the ages in its tradition, the church is often stunningly short-sighted and maybe even willfully ignorant. For many years, this was a part of the church experience of my friend, as it has been the experience of countless others.

In the face of this, many gifted individuals have walked away from the church. They have decided, understandably, that life is too short for such nonsense. If the church does not value their opinions, knowledge, service, etc., so be it -- there are many other places where such gifts are gratefully accepted. And so they leave the church, seeing only the politics or stubbornness or foolishness, and forgetting the grace made manifest in Christ.

My friend did not leave the church -- though he did leave one denomination for another. Instead, he persistently worked, believing that God had a purpose for him to serve within the church, and kept seeking out opportunities to serve in churches. He caused some people headaches along the way -- people who thought his ideas were too far out there, people who thought his approaches were wrong because "we've never done it anywhere close to that way before."

I was proud to celebrate that on this day, such persistence was rewarded with the human recognition of something prepared by God long ago. My friend became an ordained minister. I was pleased to witness this day. And I am pleased that others will know, by the "Rev. Dr." that precedes my friends name, that the church recognizes and affirms his many gifts, as he endeavors to preach the gospel and challenge the darkness, to serve those in need and encourage others to join him, to model faith in Jesus Christ.

But I also know that others, long frustrated and ostracized and criticized -- if not emotionally hurt -- by the church and by Christians in the name of the church, will not endure such slings and arrows indefinitely. And I wonder if that's why our pews are emptier than they should be on Sunday mornings. People who've tried to serve but have been told, maybe just by one sharp-tongued critic, that they should not cause such turmoil with their new ideas. People who've tried to love people different from them only to be shown a consistently cold shoulder.

And what of the other people these people meet? Do those who've been disappointed in and by the church keep their mouths shut, or do they share their frustrations, testifying to the needless (even hypocritical) agony the church has caused them? And do those people just shrug it off, or do they heed the fair warning that "the church" (for these criticisms of single congregations become criticisms of us all) is not as welcoming or as loving or as hopeful as it professes itself to be.

I do not know. Perhaps these are cloudy thoughts for another time. But I worry about it, having seen it firsthand with people (and not just my friend Chris). And I celebrate all the more when someone has faced these trials and persevered, not just for their own good, but for the good of us all.

Saturday, October 11, 2008

Coming Up Sunday, October 12

On Sunday, we'll continue our first glance at faith stories by focusing on the present, "the now," in such stories. As you well know, a big part of my faith story, right now, is that I am an ordained minister who serves as pastor of a church. While this is a somewhat unique story of faith -- many more faithful people are called to serve, to minister, in ways different from ordained ministers -- it is not so different as to be unrecognizable.

My professional position -- pastor -- now is the most prominent way in which I live out my faith. What I do as a pastor, and why I do those things, all grow from the faith that was fundamental to my childhood. But what I do as a pastor, and why, also grow from specific growing points -- even turning points -- in recent years: meaningful things that I have learned from. (And, I happily add, my faith story continues to be lived out in ways that are not essentially a part of my job as a pastor, though that's for another time.)

The middle part of a faith story is often the longest, filled with details and anecdotes, relationships with others, activities, dreams pursued and dreams deferred. There is also a key part to the "now" in a faith story, which is not a necessary part of all stories: purpose. As Christians, we are called to live our lives with purpose, to do things for others in Christ's name. Often part of our faith story is about discovering, defining, and acting on that purpose.

This part of the story will be related to the beginning of the story, where the roots of our faith are developed. But they also grow out of turning points -- out of important changes or decisions -- that we've made over the course of time.

So in this sermon, we will talk about continuity and change, and about God-given purpose, in our lives. And we'll consider how we learn to talk about these parts of our lives.

Coda to the Jewish Monarchy Series

Earlier this week, Roger posted a long-promised blog article on David and Uriah, "Who Speaks for Uriah?" I heartily recommend it to you. It is an excellent perspective on the story. And it is well worth your attention.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Pastor to a President?

Imagine my surprise when I saw this photo, courtesy of The Tennessean.



(You can see the original photo source here.)

In this photo, you can clearly see two well-dressed men participating in a town hall meeting/debate. And one of them is Brett, a member of Central Christian.

I'm feeling very out of touch. I didn't even know Brett was running.

Kidding aside, I'm thrilled to learn that Brett has been a stand-in for John McCain in the preparations for the second 2008 Presidential Debate, which is being hosted by Belmont University (where Brett is a student).

Rumor is, for his effort (work really) the past few days, Brett gets to attend the debate. I'm very excited for him and look forward to hearing his report on all this.

Saturday, October 4, 2008

Coming Up Sunday, October 5

On Sunday we'll begin our year-long emphasis on faith stories -- how we live them out, how we tell them, how we hear them. In October, we'll spend some time considering faith from a first-person perspective, thinking about how someone we know might tell the story of their faith. To personify this, I will present parts of my own faith story as examples during sermons this month.

However, I use myself only as an example, which means that the sermons are not (thankfully) going to be entirely about me. Rather, I'm going to focus on key aspects of personal faith stories -- coming to faith, finding purpose in faith, struggling in faith -- using parts of my story as an example.

This week, the story will be about coming to faith. We'll talk about Sunday School and childhood, about sin and the need for confession, about coming to believe there is a God who is involved in human affairs. I'll warn you: parts of my story are unusual, for better or worse. But as I've come to accept over the years, it's my story, for better or worse.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

A Look Back: The Early Jewish Monarchy

The sermon series on the early Jewish monarchy has come to an end -- perhaps none too soon for some of you. (Along those lines, you should know that Roger C. has again this week poked fun at the sermon series in his blog, Dispatches from No. 3 Equity Court.) So this seems like an appropriate time to look back at the series.

But I'll be honest -- not much in the way of overarching reflection is coming to me. For the first time in months, I'm not preparing a sermon about ancient Israel. This doesn't excite me or sadden me; it simply is.

Occasionally I have practical goals for sermons. Sometimes I focus on stewardship or leadership, for example. But usually I simply try to approach the Bible honestly and openly. I feel that there are things to be said, lessons to be taught, and applications to be made from almost every verse of scripture. So I open the Bible, pick a passage, and listen for God's word. Then I reflect and pray. And when Sunday morning comes around, I get up and talk. And I trust that we'll all learn a bit about God and ourselves in the sermon.

I'm not saying that I don't put effort into preaching; I am admitting that I'm a lot more flexible than most people would imagine, even though I try to preach in "sermon series." I do pick passages of scripture that I find to be related in certain ways for each series. But I know that there is a depth to each passage beyond those initial relationships to be explored, so I rarely have any preconfigured framework for specific sermons in a sermon series.

And there was no overarching framework for this series on the Jewish monarchy. I thought it would be 1) interesting, 2) thought-provoking, 3) theologically significant, and 4) contextually beneficial to study Saul and David (and Solomon, though you can see that I cut the series short before we really got to Solomon). Interesting because Biblical history (if you get beyond the "begats") is genuinely interesting; thought-provoking because the issues raised in these stories have important things to teach us about our own faith (individually and collectively) and the relationship of our faith to both the church and the wider culture; theologically significant because I think that too often Protestant preachers only preach out of the New Testament (some almost exclusively preach out of the four gospels), and I think that is both unwise and unsound; and contextually beneficial because these lessons from Saul and David play directly into the lessons about, and the teaching of, Jesus Christ. We will read the gospels better for our time spent reading 1 and 2 Samuel and 1 Kings. We will read the whole of the Bible better for our time spent reading 1 and 2 Samuel and 1 Kings.

Looking back, I count 16 sermons in this series. This is by far the longest series I've ever preached. Few pastors would attempt such a thing, both because of their own short attention span and because they fear that no congregation would let them. So I was in uncharted territory most of the summer -- especially given that I was creating the series month to month, as we went along.

For me, the series was about several things. I think it was about hopes and dreams -- the entire point of the monarchy is to make Israel and strong nation that can stand tall among the nations of the earth -- and about how those hopes and dreams were sometimes achieved, but sometimes out of reach. It was about fathers and sons, and the often complicated relationships between them. It was about the beginning of the many religious and political claims upon the city of Jerusalem, which greatly influences global politics today.

I still can't get over the almost blatant double standard for Saul and David. Looking back, I think I might have glossed over Saul's almost total descent into despair toward the ends of his reign (though that certainly came up in "All the King's Children" regarding his treatment of David). But otherwise, I think I portrayed both Saul and David fairly. And looking at it, it is clear that Saul is judged by a much harsher standard than David.

Looking back, I enjoyed preaching several of the sermons, though occasionally they gave me some restless Saturday nights. I was especially moved by "The Domestication of Transcendence: David Dreams of the Temple," the first sermon on the temple by the recognition that God allowed David's dream to become His own dream, on David's behalf. That is an amazing lesson and a glimpse into God's all-encompassing love for us (including for our hopes and dreams). And I enjoyed the David and Goliath sermon, as I know many of you did.

Perhaps you have other favorites or things that you'll take from this sermon series. If so, I hope you'll share them with each other and with me as time goes on. And feel free to share them here, in the comments section. And we can keep learning together.

Saturday, September 27, 2008

Coming Up Sunday, September 28

On Sunday we will finish our sermon series on the early Jewish Monarchy. This week we will see the consummation of David's dream as Solomon builds the Temple, "God's Home."

The Temple is the great legacy of the Jewish monarchs. It represents the ultimate transformation of the Israelites from a tribal people to a nation, by placing the center of their religious practice in Jerusalem, the center of politics. Interestingly, the Temple also represents the growing separation of politics and religion for the Israelites -- even though the palace and the Temple are both in Jerusalem, they have distinct leaders, the king and the high priest, respectively.

Sunday we'll consider how the Temple became the focal point of Jewish religion, even as it was destroyed, rebuilt, and destroyed again. Even today, the narrative power of God's Home is a powerful part of Jewish identity, a tangible representation (now the Western Wall) of God's presence and favor for the Jewish people.

What does it mean for God to have a home? What does it mean for God to be at home? These are the questions we will consider, both for the Israelites in the days of Solomon and today.

Reconciliation Offering, This Sunday and Next

This Sunday and next we receive the fourth special offering of the year sponsored by the General church, supporting the Reconciliation Ministry. This offering is taken each year in conjunction with World Communion Sunday, which is observed the first Sunday in October, and supports the anti-racism effort of the Christian Church.

Here is a letter from the Minister of Reconciliation, Rev. April Johnson, about the offering. And there is more information about the offering here and here.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

"Seeds of Faith" on Wednesday

Our new biweekly activity, "Seeds of Faith," starts this Wednesday. I hope that you'll come and try out this new activity, which will incorporate worship, fellowship, education, and service for all ages. This is a new way for us to develop our faith lives together.

This session will feature supper, informal worship, and Family Game Night. Supper will be provided (Pizza -- we are asking that families offer a small donation to offset the cost). There will be a few minutes of worship. Then we will gather together for a time of games and fellowship. Please feel free to bring board games and cards to share with others.

By the way, word out of the Midwest that I might have baby news soon. Please keep my sister in your prayers.

Friday, September 19, 2008

Coming Up Sunday, September 21

This Sunday we will come to the end of David's reign in Israel. Now on his deathbed (like the other great heroes of Jewish history) he gives a final speech. It is not as long as some of the speeches (one assumes that Jacob would have passed out midway through his marathon speech, for example), but it is still prescient, giving clues about the future of the Israelites.

Just before the speech, David summons his servants and tells them to anoint his son Solomon as the king. Then he speaks his final speech to the new-king Solomon. Contrast this to the previous king, Saul, who gives no final speech and has no control over who will follow him as king of Israel.

This is David's final earthly reward for his faithfulness -- he gets to choose who will next rule his kingdom. For all but the most paranoid monarchs (Herod the Great comes to mind) who can't imagine their kingdom being ruled by anyone else, this is the most important final action of a ruler.

But it is also the challenge for any leader -- how do we let go of the things that we have cherished and controlled for a certain amount of time? The reward for good service is not eternal service; it is simply having a say in the future after you. (On the other hand, the consequence for bad service is not having a say in the future.)

While we will consider the implications of David's death for Israel on Sunday, I also want us to take some time to think through our legacies, in our families, our jobs, our churches, etc. How do we let go -- sometimes while we're still alive and kicking? How do we react when some of our cherished traditions are changed by those who come after us (holiday dinners, church services, job focuses)?

Thursday, September 4, 2008

A Mile Too Far?

I am a regular watcher of a news program that you've probably never heard of -- Religion and Ethics Newsweekly on PBS. This weekly half-hour program attempts to even-handedly cover religion, and I think it does an admirable job. Given its American audience, it is heavily focused on Christianity and Judaism. But beyond this editorial bias, it covers various denominations and faiths fairly.

On the most recent program last weekend, which I came across earlier today, they ran a feature profile on a homeless preacher in California. This is an interesting story, trying to determine if this man is living out Jesus' teaching or has been led astray. This obviously smart, and well educated (he was working on a PhD), man decided that all possessions are an illusion and he decided to give them all up. So now he is homeless, and he works odd jobs so that he has money to give to people who ask him for it.

Here is a link to the story.

I'm not sure how I feel about this story. There are certain aspects (like the implicit dissolution of his marriage) that are troubling. But it certainly is an intriguing way to consider one's own faith, and it offers a radical transformation of how our lives could be as disciples of Christ.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

New Disciples Website

I hope that you've taken the opportunity to see our new congregational website, which will continue to grow over the upcoming months.

Today, the general church has released their updated website Disciples.org. Not only does the site have a new look, it also has some new elements, including RSS feeds (which automatically will report updates to specified personal accounts) and online giving options. The new platform also will allow some future features, including integration with social networking sites.

If you've never seen Disciples.org, you should take a look.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Coming Up Sunday, August 31

Sunday we will consider the end of Absalom's revolt against his father David. Absalom leads his army against David's army (though David is convinced by his generals to stay far behind the front lines to prevent his being killed. David gives specific instructions to his generals that Absalom is not to be harmed during the battle.

The battle took place in some thick woods. During the fighting, Absalom was riding through the woods when he became stuck in the limbs. (This was implicitly a common problem, given that the Bible says the woods killed more men than the armies did.) When David's army found Absalom, the generals commanded that he be killed.

Upon hearing of Absalom's death, his army fled in terror. Couriers rushed to tell David that the rebels had been defeated. He asked, "How is my son?" When informed that Absalom was dead, David openly wept. The celebration turned somber, when the soldiers saw the king's grief. In fact, David was so overcome by his emotions that the generals explained that he had to make an appearance before his victorious troops, or they would think that the king didn't care for any of his own soldiers who had fought and died.

In many ways, this is a simple story of a father's grief over the untimely death of his son. So deep is his own love for his son that he wishes he could have died in his son's place.

But Absalom and his revolt also represent the evidence that David's kingship will be unsuccessful in uniting all of the Israelites. It is obvious that Absalom's army is filled with those who had been more loyal to Saul's son than to David after Saul's death. In the upcoming years, this group will keep fighting against David and his descendants. After Solomon's death, this group will create the northern kingdom, called Israel. David's heirs will rule the kingdom of Judah only. And the Israelites will never be united again.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Dead Sea Scrolls to Go Online

Breaking news today out of Israel -- the Dead Sea Scrolls will be digitized and available online within the next couple of years. Again, this is another example of how technology is changing how much information we can have access to.

For years, this treasure trove of ancient texts (including several of the earliest copies we now have of parts of the Hebrew scriptures) has been kept behind lock and key. In order to preserve the texts (some of which are still uncatalogued as scholars are still trying to piece them together), very few people had access to these texts.

Soon, anybody who is interested can safely look at any of these ancient fragments and texts from basically anywhere in the world.

I'm excited about this, not just as a pastor or a person who loves history, but as someone who watched overflow lines of people who were excited to see several pieces of the Dead Sea Scrolls in Chicago a few years ago. (If memory serves, attendance was higher to see the Dead Sea Scrolls than for the last Chicago blockbuster museum exhibit -- King Tut.) Through a fluke (the museum decided to start extended summer hours one week early, I happened to see the exhibit when there was no line, so I had a more relaxed opportunity to examine some of these texts. It was fascinating to be so close to these texts and to see them in their present condition.

Here's the New York Times article announcing this decision.

Sunday's Sermon Will Not Be Posted

I'm afraid that I will not be able to post Sunday's sermon on Absalom's Revolt because the entire sermon was not recorded properly. I apologize if any of you were looking forward to listening to it. If its any solace, I was looking forward to listening to it too.

As some of you know, I personally record my sermons with a small digital recorder. Evidently I jostled the recorder during the sermon and stopped the recording after only a few minutes. My apologies for this.

Otherwise, I was pleased with Sunday's sermon. It was a little long, but I was reminded on Sunday evening when talking to one of my colleagues that the story of David and Absalom is unbelievably complex. In fact, these chapters of 2 Samuel are remarkably dense. The narrative is lean and mean. So trying to work through the story (or frankly, parts of the story -- I skipped over several details of the story in the interest of both time and coherence) is a time-consuming endeavor.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Coming Up Sunday, August 24

This Sunday we continue the tumultuous story of David's reign, focusing on the uprising led by his son Absalom, which was successful to the extent that David was forced to evacuate the capital, Jerusalem, and flee before the arrival of Absalom's army.

There were many causes for Absalom's revolt. At the very least, it happened after several years of estrangement between David and Absalom. Several years before, Absalom's sister Tamar was raped by their half-brother Amnon, who was David's eldest son and first in line to succeed to the throne. When David learned of this, he refused to take any action against Ammon, which infuriated Absalom. Absalom waited two years and then took matters into his own hands, ordering his servants to kill Amnon. Fearing that his father would be less forgiving of him than of Amnon, Absalom fled into a self-imposed exile.

Three years later, after being told that David's anger had cooled and that he was forgiven, Absalom returned to Jerusalem. However, David refused to see Absalom for two years, which led Absalom to question if this was what forgiveness looked like. Hearing of Absalom's frustration, David invited his son to the palace, and they reconciled.

However, Absalom used this reconciliation to unleash a plan that he obviously had been developing for a long time. Absalom requested to be allowed to go to Hebron; David approved his son's wish. Once there, Absalom declared himself king of Hebron and gathered an army to attack Jerusalem. David, sensing that the odds were against him, or just unwilling to order the army to fight against his son, fled.

On the face of it, this civil war seems like just a rebellion by a son against his aging father. But a closer look reveals that David and Absalom are guided not just by a desire to rule, but by different philosophies of leadership. To Absalom, David seems a vacillating and equivocating fool; to David, Absalom seems narrow-minded and short-sighted. This genuine conflict of ideas leads to a war.

I think that we continue to face these conflicting philosophies (and others) in our lives today, sometimes personally, sometimes in our churches, sometimes in our politics. Our instinct, I think, is to regard David's leadership as weak and perhaps unguided; to put it bluntly, we wouldn't elect David to be anything in our political system. But the lessons of scripture strongly suggest that, despite his warts, David's leadership philosophy may be the precursor of the Messiah's leadership philosophy.

In other words, David's vision may be closely related to Jesus' vision, which is identical to God's vision.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Coming Up Sunday, August 17

Tomorrow we will enjoy Casual Worship, meaning that the dress code is very relaxed. Come dressed for a picnic -- which I hope you'll return for Sunday night.

As for the sermon on Sunday, we'll finally arrive at the Sunday many of you have been waiting for -- perhaps with fear and trembling -- the story of David and Bathsheba. It is also the story of Bathsheba's poor husband Uriah, whose existence brings out the worst in King David.

Fundamentally, the story is about sex. I could lie and say that it's about the corruption of power -- certainly that is an important subtheme -- but really it's really about sex. David, who is clearly at the wrong place at the wrong time -- the text makes it clear that he should be leading the army in the spring campaign -- compounds this problem by allowing his sexual desires to run unchecked. He sees a beautiful woman, finds out that she's married, and demands she be brought to his bedroom. A short while later, he hears the words every man dreads to hear after such a sexual encounter: "I'm pregnant."

Since there was no ancient equivalent of Maury Povich running around administering paternity tests, David relies on the world's oldest solution to this problem -- he sends for the woman's husband and insists that he take some R & R from the front lines by spending a relaxing weekend at home...with his wife...um, washing his feet. And eight and a half months from now, when a child is born, everyone would winkingly say, "That Uriah sure made the most of his time at home, didn't he?" And no one would be the wiser.

[Really, that's what the text says -- David tells Uriah to go home and "wash his feet." The commentaries all agree that "wash his feet" is just a euphemism. Even if it isn't, the innuendo is quite clear. Of course, this innuendo raises a rather disturbing context which could be read into all the other foot-washing references in the Bible.]

The problem, shockingly, is that the husband refuses to play along. He just won't go home. He makes every effort to avoid seeing his wife, realizing that his first duty during wartime is to army and country. So he sleeps just outside David's palace. David tries again, indulging him with food and alcohol, hoping to weaken his resolve. But the husband won't do it.

So the king writes a note to the general, directing that the husband be forced to lead a highly dangerous exposed assault on the enemy, and abandoned to die at the hands of the enemy. Then, in a monstrous touch, he gives the sealed order to the husband to personally carry to the general. The general obeys, and in short order, the husband is dead on the field. After a period of mourning, the widow becomes the king's wife.

All's well that ends well, I guess. Except that God is displeased with David. And he sends the prophet Nathan to reprimand David and to explain the punishment for David's actions. David shouldn't have slept with another man's wife. By implication, there were plenty of other women that David could have brought into his bedroom; as the king, he had his pick of all the single women of the land, evidently as many as he wanted. To take another man's wife and then to order the husband's death is entirely unacceptable.

David will be punished -- though unlike Saul, he does not receive a death sentence. Instead, he is told that other men will sleep with his wives (on the ancient "eye for an eye, woman for a woman" principle) with his knowledge, that the remainder of his rule will be rocked by violent internal power struggles with his children, and that the love child Bathsheba is carrying will die after birth. Of course, eventually David and Bathsheba will have another child, Solomon, who will inherit the kingdom which certainly makes the divine judgment rather more ambiguous.

Whenever I've mentioned to some of you that I would be preaching on sex this Sunday, I've noticed a lot of discomfort -- more discomfort than I've noticed with other parts of this sermon series. I should say that I find this rather amusing; we've been talking about violence -- sometimes rather explicitly -- off and on for weeks and nobody's raised an eyebrow. But even the hint of sex and people get a funny look on their faces.

I realize that this is one of those things that we do not talk much about in polite company, like politics and religion. And truly, some preachers avoid any mention of sex (and politics and religion) in church, not wanting to offend anyone. But this is short-sighted. Sex is one of the core impulses of human existence, and it is a peculiarly multi-faceted impulse. As much as we joke about sex in black and white terms (and most of our sexual innuendos are rather unsophisticated), its impact on each of us and on the culture at large is complex. But we don't have such a view about it because we don't think about sex very much (even though we think about sex often).

I won't go into my "sex doesn't get the attention it deserves" rant here, but isn't it curious how sex is portrayed in the wider culture. Sometimes, it is the goal of a romantic relationship -- everything is foreplay to sex. More often, it is just a step to check off the list: third date -- sex. Is it any wonder that our teenagers, surrounded by teen comedies driven by the "must lose virginity before graduation" plot-line, soap operas and romance novels, and the perpetual gossipmill that is school (offset only by the obligatory, and tame, one sexual ed class and one uncomfortable parental "birds and bees" talk), are having sex earlier and earlier, and more and more? What reason do we give them not to? We owe our children better. We owe our wider community better. We owe ourselves better.

So we will talk about sex in church. Just like we will talk about money in church, and politics, and power, and sin, and injustice, and bigotry, and hypocrisy, and tragedy, and death, and all the other uncomfortable subjects. Because they affect us all. Because the scriptures have much to say on these topics. Because God cares about them. Because God cares about us.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

King David: Mighty Conqueror (A Blog Exclusive)

By the time David has established the capital in Jerusalem and begun dreaming of building God's home, the Temple, it is obvious that he has consolidated his power throughout the kingdom. More than this, his military prowess has turned back all foreign threats against the Israelites -- nobody, it seems, wants to take David on. With his capable leadership, David has provided peace and security for his kingdom.

For some leaders, that would be enough, but not David. Having built the army into a force more than capable of defending his kingdom, David has no desire to let it just sit around. So David begins a series of campaigns intended to capture the surrounding kingdoms, turning them into vassal states in which the governments are forced to pay annual tributes to Israel.

In a series of campaigns, David extends his kingdom and his kingdom's influence in all directions: pushing against the Philistines in the west, the Moabites and Ammonites in the east, the Edomites and the Amalekites in the south, and the Arameans in the north. Click here for a map of David's attacks. He conquered city after city -- in the words of 2 Samuel, "The Lord gave victory to David everywhere he went."

With his conquests, David creates an empire (short-lived though it will be). This is the first and only time that Israel will be an empire in its history. During David's reign (and that of his heir Solomon), the kingdom reaches its greatest geographical expanse and reaches the height of its regional influence. Click here for a map of David's empire.

It is hard to underestimate the pride of the Israelites (and their descendants, the Jews) in David's empire. Centuries later, after the divided kingdoms, Israel and then Judah, have themselves been conquered by a succession of empires (the Babylonians, the Assyrians, the Romans), they fondly remember the time when Israel was the dominant political presence in the Middle East. Even today, in the negotiations between Israel and the Palestinians, it is interesting to note how closely many of Israel's land claims mirror the map of David's ancient kingdom.

During David's lifetime, David's aggressive expansion of his kingdom represented the full transition of the Israelite people from a tribal society to a monarchy, from an agricultural, rural-centered culture to a commercial, urban-centered culture. (And if that's an overstatement for the Israelite people as a whole, it certainly reflects the transition of those Israelites with economic and political power.) The geography of David's conquests suggests two things: first, he just wanted to control more territory, but second, he wanted to control the major trade routes of the region, which, not coincidentally, went through all the non-Philistine territory he conquered.

With these actions, David fulfills the expectations of those Israelites who had wanted a king. He becomes a king enviable to other nations -- mighty warrior, talented bureaucrat, fledgling emperor. He unites his people and marshalls their strength to take control of other nations, creating a geographic buffer zone, a ready source of military allies, and a consistent source of annual income (in the form of tribute).

While the borders on the maps linked above are fixed, the politics of any empire ebb and flow. Once David started forcing his influence on these other nations, he had to deal with them, politically and militarily, from that point on. So even though David evidently conquered the six nations in short order, he had to keep close tabs on them to ensure that they remained loyal to him. He dispatches parts of the Israelite army to garrison in some of the foreign cities.

At one point, after the king of the Arameans dies, the new king tries to push back against the Israelites. He forges an alliance with the Ammonites, so that the two kingdoms can both attack the Israelites simultaneously. This creates a two-front war for Israel (in the north and the northeast). David dispatches the army under his main general Joab to face the uprising; curiously, David does not go with the army to these battles. Instead he stayed in Jerusalem, where his attention was distracted from military affairs; indeed his eye wandered and fell on affairs of an entirely different sort.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Information from the Wider Church

Here are two unrelated things that have across my desk in the past few days, one from the general church and one from the regional church.

Sharon Watkins, the General Minister and President, has issued a letter about the on-going war in Iraq, based on the suggestion of the 2007 General Assembly. You can read her pastoral letter here. As with such things with the Disciples church, it is likely to make some people happy and others angry. I put it here for your information only, not for any other purpose.

Here also is the latest issue of the regional newsletter, which has begun being posted as a .pdf file on the Internet (a good thing). It is a pretty large file (2.3 MB), which means that a dial-up download will take quite a while. But if you're willing and able to receive this via email, you will get the newsletter quicker, and you will save the church some money.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Reflections on Worship, August 3

It is no secret that Sunday morning was a bit of a challenge for me, since I do not function very well on limited sleep. So I must confess that my memories of the morning as a whole are a little cloudy. I do recall feeling about two steps behind all morning and quite slow on the uptake. Happily, the point of worship is not to assess my mental sharpness, but rather to worship God, so in the grand scheme of things such challenges are mostly irrelevant.

Overall, I thought the service was pleasant and uplifting -- though, of course, I may not be the best judge of that. As always, it was good to have Brooks with us, working his magic. The presentation of the needlepointed Christ by Jane Henry's son Tom was moving, and yet another reminder of the enduring witness of our brothers and sisters (and forefathers and foremothers) of faith. We should find ways to celebrate such things publicly more often -- it's good for everybody.

But mostly today I have some reflections on Sundays sermon. Aside from the fact that it ran on quite a bit (needless to say, the internal clock was obviously on snooze), I am comfortable with what was said. I wish that there had been more time to explore some practical applications of the lessons that grow out of the establishment of Jerusalem as the earthly "city of God." But I felt strongly that without really sketching the fuller circumstances of David's decision, such discussion would have been either cliched or suggested completely out of context.

The single significant omission in Sunday's sermon was that I forgot to point out that the tension between rural and urban religion was even present in the 2 Samuel passages, not simply throughout the prior history of Israel. As David is dancing in the procession bringing the Ark of the Covenant to its new home in Jerusalem, his wife Michal (daughter of Saul) watches in disgust, thinking that he is acting like a low class person rather than a well-bred king. When confronted, David says simply that he was dancing for joy in the presence of God, which is certainly true of David the religious man, and that the opinions of humans are of little import, which is certainly less true for David the political leader. Even here, though, the tensions of class in religious practice -- which are always present in the life of a city -- are present in the story.

But there were lots of omissions in the sermon because I discovered just how rich these two chapters of 2 Samuel are, particularly in light of our larger study. Scripture is immeasurably rich, which means that there are always multiple approaches one can take in studying the Bible's implications and lessons, but I found much more than I expected in these chapters, which meant that I had to leave some things out.

The most important of these things that I intentionally overlooked in the sermon is that David commits the same "mistake" that Saul does in conflating religious and political authority in the kingdom. When he brings the Ark of the Covenant to its new home in Jerusalem, David personally offers the burnt offerings in the new Tabernacle and distributes the food from the sacrifices among all the people present.

And what happens? Does the priest arrive to chastise David for his actions? Does the prophet come to tell him that God's favor has been removed from him? Do the people react with horror at David's chutzpah? Not at all. Everybody is happy and thinks that this is a perfectly normal thing.

This is not the first time that the rules have been different for David than for everybody else. When Saul sacrifices on behalf of the people before battle, Samuel reads him the riot act and cannot contain his personal chagrin. When David sacrifices on behalf of the people in the new capital city, everybody goes home with leftovers and nobody says anything.

As we will learn, the man after God's own heart can get away with almost anything, including murder (mark your calendars now -- Bathsheba's only two Sundays away), and not lose God's favor.

Mind you, it is not the case that the religious authorities have lost their separate authority, as will become abundantly clear as David butts heads with the prophet Nathan in the upcoming weeks. There really is a separation of church and state, which we will see that David ultimately respects. But it does seem to be an uneven playing field.

There are several possible explanations for this discrepancy in how Saul and David are treated. On the one hand, it is possible that our scripture writers -- or more likely, their editors -- know how the story ends and are filling in the theological details. If God were behind Saul, this argument goes, his descendants would have ruled Israel for generations; since they did not, Saul must have crossed God in some way. On the other hand, David's family did rule for generations, so God must have been behind them and their actions. And so, in 20/20 hindsight, these similar actions are viewed very differently.

But such logic avoids the more frustrating implication, that God really does treat Saul and David differently. This is a painful thing for us to consider, I think, because we all like to think that God treats us all equally. But human experience sometimes suggests otherwise, often rather cruelly. Some people live and some die. Some live well and others less so. Some feel the ravages of disease or "fate" more fully than others. This is the central issue, I think, in theodicy -- the question of why God allows human suffering: the challenge is not that there is suffering, but it seems rather random. Practically speaking, we understand why someone who smokes cigarettes for forty years develops lung cancer; however, we don't understand why there are some people who smoke cigarettes for forty years who do not develop lung cancer.

There are no easy answers to this very large issue. But I think, overall, that the examples of David and Saul suggest that even though they did many of the same things, they were very different men. I truly believe that they were both men of great faith, who both had instances where they slipped in their faith. But David (again, the poet-king) seems more soulful than the chiseled warrior king Saul. And that seems to make a difference. Our challenge is to understand what that difference might be and how (or even if) it matters for our lives.

Friday, August 1, 2008

Coming Up Sunday, August 3

Sunday we will see David firmly established as king of all Israel, officially succeeding Saul. The account in 2 Samuel 5-6 suggests a busy early period of David's reign, filled with battles against the pesky Philistines and a persistent group (evidently, because they haven't appeared in the story since Genesis), the Jebusites.

During the course of five years, David stabilizes the kingdom against the Philistine threat and tries to find some national symbolism to unify the underlying conflicts between the northern and southern tribes. He finds it in his campaign against the well entrenched stronghold of the Jebusites. After defeating them, he claims the city as his own, renaming it Jerusalem, and making it the capital of Israel.

David's centrality in the history of Judaism owes no small part to his role in establishing the holy city, the first City of David (not to be confused with Bethlehem) and the first City of God. David further symbolizes the importance of the city by reclaiming the Ark of the Covenant, which has laid somewhat forgotten and neglected in the hill country, and bringing it to an altar in Jerusalem. With this, David takes an older unifying symbol of the Israelites and uses it to establish a new unifying symbol, the capital city.

Jerusalem (and eventually the Temple) becomes the central unifying aspiration of Judaism, the theme in all of Jewish hopes and striving through the centuries, even to the present day. Its up and down history, from capital of a self-sustaining people, through captures by foreign armies, vassal kings, near obliteration, to the Zionist movement of the 19th and 20th centuries, is as central to the Jewish experience as their preservation of Torah.

But it is not only a potent theme for Jews; it has been appropriated as a hope for Christians too, beginning with the hopes of God establishing a "new Jerusalem" at the end of days (as described in the book of Revelation). Some have even hoped for a this-worldly new Jerusalem, perhaps most famously by William Blake, in "The New Jerusalem." This poem was popularized during World War I as a patriotic hymn (music by Hubert Parry), and is considered the unofficial anthem of England.

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?

And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic Mills?

Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!

I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.

The nationalism of Blake's words captures the essence of David's goals in establishing Jerusalem as his capital city. But this was a major shift in the history of the Hebrews, solidifying their transition from nomads to people with an established country, and of their religion from agriculturally-centered to urban-centered. We will touch on some of these themes Sunday.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

The House of David vs. The House of Saul (A Blog Exclusive)

The deaths of Saul and his three sons clears the way for David, a man after God's heart, to become king. However, the succession of David to the Israelite throne was not a foregone conclusion, as the opening chapters of 2 Samuel make clear. David, even though he is a military hero and the (once) son-in-law of Saul is not the only person with a claim on the throne; a heretofore unmentioned son of Saul, Ishbaal, supported by the Israelite general Abner, has a more direct claim. The struggle between David and Ishbaal -- and more importantly, the struggle between their supporters -- for the throne lasts roughly two years.

David learns of the death of Saul from someone who claims to have rushed from Saul's side to give David the news. David is rather unbelieving of the news and questions the man thoroughly. Over the course of the interview, it becomes clear that the man, an Amalekite, was not with Saul at the time of his death (even though he claims to have killed the king himself at the king's request); likely the man was seeking favor from the notorious David by bringing what he imagined would be well received news. Instead, David is heartbroken by the king's (and Jonathan's) death, and he and his men rip their clothes and enter a period of mourning. Further, he orders the conniving Amalekite be executed.

David's response to Saul's death is similar to the response of the men of Jabesh-gilead, who conducted a raid to recover the king's body from the Philistines. He leads his men in a period of weeping and fasting for the fallen king of Israel. Then the young poet-general (sounds like a poor man's philosopher-king) composes a lamentation about the death of Saul and Jonathan, which is preserved in 1 Samuel (and there is no reason to doubt that David wrote it). In this response, we see David's respect for Saul as God's anointed king, despite Saul's personal death-wish for him; perhaps we even see the affection of the younger David who had once been like a son to Saul and a brother to Jonathan.

But David is not overwhelmed by Saul's death, and he quickly acts to assert his claim on the Israelite throne (the realization the promise made by Samuel's anointing him as a boy). As he had previously begun to bribe, or at least soften, the influential leaders of the south, David expects their support. He (and his army) resettle in the land of Judah in the city of Hebron; there David is anointed king by the leadership of the Hebrew tribe of Judah.

But Judah is but one tribe of the Israelites, and the other tribes recognize Ishbaal, the son of Saul who is supported by the military leader Abner and his army, as king. (This is the first obvious rift that will eventually split the Hebrews into two countries, the Kingdom of Israel in the north and the Kingdom of Judah in the south.) Both sides believe that their king has the claim to rule the entire Hebrew kingdom, and soon they are at war with each other.

Interestingly, David again tries to refrain from attacking other Israelites; just as he had refrained from attacking the army of Saul, David refuses to lead an attack against the army of Ishbaal. However, supporters of David do fight on his behalf, even defeating Ishbaal's army, under Abner, at Gibeon. While this battle does not reunify the kingdom, it does begin the process by which David will become king of all the Hebrews.

After the battle and after a personal confrontation with Ishbaal, Abner approaches David to negotiate a deal by which Abner will switch his support, and implicitly that of his army, from Ishbaal to David. During the negotiation, David insists that his previous wife, Michel, be returned to him; because Saul had married her to someone else after David went into exile, this required that she would be separated from her current husband. Further, the act would recognize David's power and stature. Ishbaal, seeing the writing on the wall with the defection of Abner, sends Michal to David, hoping that this would placate David.

After the deal between Abner and David is reached, and while Abner is traveling, one of David's subjects seizes the general and kills him to avenge the death of his brother, killed in the Battle of Gibeon. When Ishbaal learns of Abner's death, he becomes completely distraught because he knows that the allegiance of the people is switching more and more to David. Before Ishbaal can take any decisive action, however, he is assassinated by two brothers who think that King David will reward those who pave the way to uniting the Israelite kingdom. Much like the scheming Amalekite who told David of Saul's death, the two brothers are shocked by David's harsh rebuke: for their part in killing a recognized king, they are put to death.

This is a recurring pattern for much of David's life, at least according to the scripture writer of 1 and 2 Samuel -- David bears no involvement, and thus no guilt, in several dark deeds that benefit him. He never raises a hand against Saul, who eventually dies. He never raises a hand against Abner, who eventually dies. He never raises a hand against Ishbaal, who eventually dies. In some ways, on might wonder if there's some revisionism in this story, cleaning it up a bit. Even if not, it is obvious that David is quite the opportunist, skilled at playing people off each other (remember his dealings with the Philistine king Achish), condoning people to fight on his behalf while maintaining plausible deniability for their actions (those who fought against the army of Ishbaal).

With the death of Ishbaal, support of the leaders of Israel coalesces around David, who becomes king of all the tribes of Israel, reestablishing Saul's kingdom. Like any astute leader, he seeks a common purpose to further unify the people, which he finds in leading a war against the Jebusites, who have land holdings within the Israelite kingdom. The outcome of this war will be the focus of Sunday's sermon.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Codex Sinaiticus Premieres Online

If you're like me (and who isn't), the most exciting thing that you've heard this past week is that the oldest complete Greek manuscript of the New Testament is going online. The Codex Sinaiticus, which dates to the 4th Century, is currently being digitized so that people can access images of the full manuscript. The new website, a joint collaboration of several entities, went live on Thursday.

The story of Codex Sinaiticus, or at least the "discovery" of the codex is a fascinating tale of intrigue, involving clueless monks, more wary monks, and a scholar for hire in the 19th Century. While staying at the Monastery of St. Catherine on Mount Sinai in 1844, Dr. Constantin von Tischendorf (as part of a larger tour of the Mideast looking for ancient Biblical manuscripts), he noticed some parchments in the trashcan which proved to be early Greek manuscripts of the Old Testament (easy to date on sight because they are written in uncial Greek script (uppercase) as opposed to later minuscule script (lowercase and cursive)). von Tischendorf was allowed to keep these parchments, which he took back to the University of Leipzig.

On later trips, von Tischendorf attempted to find out if there were more parts of the codex, but the monks sensed that they might have something valuable on their hands and became quite closed-mouth. In 1859, von Tischendoft presented the steward of the monastery with a copy of the book he had published about the parchments he had taken to Europe; the steward said that he also had a book of such documents, which turned out to be the remainder of the Codex, which still had large parts of the Old Testament and a full copy (in good condition) of the New Testament. von Tischendorf tried to negotiate the sale of the codex, but the monks were not interested; they were, however, looking for a new abbot, so they were persuaded to make a gift to the Czar of Russia (the most powerful political influence on the eastern church) -- the entire extant codex. [After the Russian Revolution, the British Museum would purchase this codex from the Russian government, which then had little interest in Christian artifacts.]

Aside from this great story (which I've actually condensed) of its rediscovery, the Codex Sinaiticus is an extremely important early manuscript of the New Testament. It is the earliest complete Greek New Testament, and the only complete Greek New Testament written in uncial Greek script (all uppercase, no spaces). It is remarkably good condition, with very little physical deterioration, unlike p46, the earliest New Testament manuscript we have, all of whose pages have significant deterioration and many of which are lost. The original codex dates to the 300s, though there is evidence of later corrections/notations in the margins which are of uncertain era.

Because of its completeness, its early dating, and its timely mid-19th Century discovery, the Codex Sinaiticus is one of the most influential early New Testament manuscripts. No two early manuscripts agree completely, so the New Testament we have is a scholarly reconstruction of what is believed to be the most authentic text from among the variant readings. (This is not to suggest that there are wildly variant readings among the ancient manuscripts -- there are very few dramatic differences between the texts. But these differences must be accounted for -- scholars do the same things with the various manuscripts of everyone from Homer to Shakespeare. In fact, it is amazing how closely all the manuscripts of the New Testament agree with each other, especially when one takes out scribal mistakes and abbreviation differences.)

The Greek New Testament I have in my office contains all of the major variant readings of the New Testament, and it includes a scholarly apparatus to show which manuscripts have which readings. Among the various manuscripts, Sinaiticus enjoys a prime position, evident in the scholarly shorthand for it. The ancient codexes are catalogued by capital letter, first in the Roman alphabet (A, B, C), then in the Greek. But Sinaiticus is represented by the Hebrew aleph. (Happily, this makes it instantly recognizable; I have to consult a book to remind myself what codex goes with what capital letter.)

The website does not yet have the full Codex Sinaiticus yet -- they expect to finish the digitization process by the end of 2009. But what they do have is beautiful, a three-part screen which features: 1) a digitized view of each page of the codex (shot in your choice of two different lightings); 2) a transcription of the Greek, with proper spacing and chapter and verse indicators; and 3) a space for a translation of the passage in English, German, modern Greek, or Russian. For textual scholars, there is even an additional part which features detailed physical descriptions of the parchment and text, including the specific repairs and treatments made to it. The codex is searchable by Bible passage or by its own quire and page.

If you have a few minutes, you should check it out: http://www.codexsinaiticus.org/en/. There is a lot of contextual information, including a history of the manuscript and its transmission. Go to the "See the Manuscript" tab and look at the beginning of Mark (currently, the only part of the New Testament online). See a glimpse of where our English Bible comes from -- just having that in your mind's eye will quite possibly change your view of the entire Bible -- any Bible -- that you ever hold in your hand.

Some days technology is a maddening thing. And we have growing pains yet to go through as more of our lives, and our information, becomes Internet-driven. But sometimes technology is truly a wonderful thing. The number of people who have been able to see this manuscript online in the past few days surely dwarfs the number of people who have been able to read this manuscript in person in its entire history.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

David, Gun for Hire (A Blog Exclusive)

In the next few weeks, there will be a few Blog Exclusive pieces in our Early Jewish Monarchy series, which will tell parts of the story that we won't have time to focus on during Sunday worship. While the end of 1 Samuel tells the repetitive story of Saul's descent into overwhelming paranoia, it also tells how David cagily survives Saul's death-wish against him, through ever-more unbelievable means. While parts of 1 Samuel 21-30 are included what follows, 1 Samuel 27-30 is the focus.

As Saul becomes more persistent in his desire to have David killed, and even starts dispatching the Israelite army hither and yon for that expressed purpose, David goes to greater lengths to survive, fleeing from place to place, sometimes into lands beyond Israelite control. And Saul becomes ever more determined to track David down, to the extent that he even lashes out at David's perceived allies. In one particularly gruesome tale, Saul orders the deaths of all the priests of Nob, who are known to have hosted David for a time.

And Saul's own family is not spared. We learn that Michal, David's wife and the king's daughter, is given to another husband by her father -- obviously as a punishment against David. Jonathan appears very little in the story, which suggests that Saul is keeping his son on a very tight leash. It is fairly certain that Jonathan is not allowed to lead, or even accompany, the expeditions mounted to track down the fugitive David, even though we know that Jonathan himself was an honored general who had success in battling the Philistines.

Throughout this ordeal, David keeps one step ahead of Saul and his warriors and performs a delicate balancing act. He refuses to act out against Saul or any part of his army. Twice, quite dramatically, David will have the opportunity to kill Saul and he refuses to lay a hand on the king. This is again part of David's loyalty to the kingdom, even though the power of Israel has turned against him. As he becomes more of a fugitive, however, David is forced to ally with Israel's enemies, the Philistines.

This is the final resort of David. Saul's army has followed David into the wildernesses, so that these lands cannot provide a safe refuge. David evidently has approached certain wealthy Israelites, hoping that they might use their power to shelter him and his small army, but he is rejected. One story, an interaction between David and a wealthy Calebite named Nabal, dramatizes this rejection. Sensing the threat that David poses, Nabal rebuffs David's requests for assistance; the denial is so harsh that Nabal's wife Abigail intercedes with a peace offering, fearing that David and his men will take retribution on the household. Ironically, when Nabal learns of his wife's actions, he suffers a heart attack and dies. And David, man of honor and hopeless romantic that he is, marries the widow Abigail. (As we will see, David seems to have an eye for other men's wives.)

Seeing no other choice, David flees the land of Israel, settling near the city of Gath, hometown of Goliath and prominent Philistine city. When David first tried to approach the King of Gath, King Achish, he evidently got cold feet and pretended to have lost his mind while he was in Gath. The second time, David has no such qualms. He makes his presence known to King Achish and demands to live autonomously; the king grants his request and gives David control of the city of Ziklag (formerly an Israelite city that had been captured by the Philistines).

David's reputation as a great military leader is obvious in this negotiation. The Philistines are under no obligation to help David, who has led armies successfully against them time and again. In fact, one would expect them to try to capture and punish David. Evidently, David's personal army is powerful enough to prevent this and to demand that the Philistine king treat David respectfully. This implies that David had sufficient military power to take on Saul directly if he had desired; David refuses to act militarily against either the Israelite king or any other Israelites. This self-imposed restraint, along with the undeniable cunning that preserves David, are David's most notable traits in this part of the story. [Preachers and Biblical commentators usually take this to stress that David is showing great faith in God's promise to him given during his anointing by Samuel; while David is faithful, I think his actions show his own determination to prevent any claim that he is unfit for the Israelite throne. Lacking any contrary data (prophecies telling David which course he should take), it seems to me that David's faith would have justified his attacking Saul directly and taking the Israelite throne by force. But I digress.]

David has no reticence about attacking non-Israelites, and he uses Ziklag as a bandit refuge from which to launch raids against unsuspecting non-Israelite and non-Philistine tribes. Ruthlessly, David and his men attack, take everything that isn't nailed down, and kill everyone so there are no witnesses to reveal his identity. Ostensibly, David does this so that he can lie about his actions to both King Achish and, in the future, the Israelites. Even though he continues to attack only the enemies of Israel, David reports to the Philistine king that he is attacking Israelite settlements.

David is able to maintain this double-life until King Achish decides to launch another Philistine campaign against the Israelites and he demands Davids participation as a loyal Philistine subject. David has no choice but to accept the king's call; the king gives David and his men the prominent responsibility of being the king's bodyguard during the battle. This would remove David's men from the front lines, minimizing the chance for actual contact with the Israelites during the battle.

But of course, there is still the chance that David and his men would be forced to actually fight the Israelites. Unbelievably, David's overwhelming good luck holds and eliminates even this chance. Other Philistines learn of David's presence in the camp, and they demand that he be sent home as untrustworthy in the upcoming battle. Though King Achish vouches for David's loyalty three times -- the last swearing it by God, even -- David and his men are released from obligation and sent home.

The story would seem to have a happy ending, except that David finds that the Amalekites have raided Ziklag in his absence, captured much loot, and taken his wives and children prisoner. This leads to an attack instead by David and his grumbling men on the Amalekites. It is likely no coincidence that David must again face the group that Saul failed to annihilate, which led to him losing God's favor. David is successful and defeats the Amalekites.

In the aftermath of this victory, David makes overtures to attempt to reenter the land of Israel. He takes all that he captures from the Amalekites and sends it to the cities in the Southwestern part of the Israelite kingdom. This part of David's plan is nullified by a dramatic change brought on in the battle between the Israelites and the Philistines -- Saul and his sons are killed, which opens the way for David to claim the throne.

This then is the man after God's own heart. In his steadfast faith that he is called to be king, David preserves his claim to the throne. He becomes a fugitive to escape the king's wrath. He becomes a thief and an ancient bandit to support himself and his army; he lies over and over to his patron, King Achish the Philistine. He attempts to bribe his way back into the good graces of the Israelites. And, nostalgically, he becomes the symbol of all that once was good and right and hopeful in the land of Israel.