This week's lectionary readings- 2 Samuel 7:1-14a; Psalm 89:20-37; Ephesians 2:11-22; and Mark 6:30-34, 53-56 can be found at Vanderbilt's lectionary page.
I'll be preaching on the 2 Samuel and Mark texts this week, so if you're in the greater Nashville area, come worship with us at Christ United Methodist Church in Franklin at 8:30 or 11am. Or you can listen to the message the next day on the website.
I am really drawn to David's story this week. He's entered Jerusalem as a conquering hero, the undisputed king of Israel, and now that he's on the throne, his mind starts to wander. It hasn't wandered across the street to a loyal soldier's wife just yet, though that one is coming.
David gets the notion to build a Temple for the Ark of God, because he feels guilty that he lives in a palace while God dwells in a tent. David's heart is in the right place, but God says "no, this isn't your job. I've got someone else in mind."
I can't help but wonder if this was tough for David to hear. After all, David is used to being the man, the guy who gets things done. David may have started to think that he was the only person God wanted to use to do great things. He may have started to forget that while he had done great things for God, it was God doing them through him. Jr. High kids don't slay giants on their own.
We human beings are a pretty self centered bunch. Even when our intentions are good, we find a way to make it about us. Maybe David's desire to build God a Temple came with the unspoken expectation that David's name appear on the masthead, too. His intentions are good, but as a human he finds a way to make it about him.
Paul is reminding the Ephesians that there was a time when they were far away from God, and to remember that it was God that fixed the situation, not them. They're part of this great redeeming work that God is doing, but they can't forget that God is at the center of it, not them.
In Mark's gospel, the twelve disciples Jesus sent out to preach and heal come back with stories about people being healed, demons being cast out, and all kinds of other things. "Great work, guys!" Jesus says. "Now come away and rest for a while."
The disciples, in the midst of their excitement, would have quickly found a way to make it all about them. They'd decide they were pretty awesome, and the world needed them so badly that they had to head back out there right away! Jesus tells them to rest. They're in this for the long haul, so they have to pace themselves. And if they're worried about what will happen while they're resting, they need to remember that they're not the only people God is going to use.
They get to be part of the work of God's Kingdom, but they're not the center. That's an easy thing to forget. David needed to be reminded. Jesus' disciples needed to be reminded. So do we.
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
Monday, July 06, 2015
The Confoundingly Messy Mixture of Bad and Good- Lectionary Readings for July 12
This week's readings from the Revised Common Lectionary (2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19 and Psalm 24 or Amos 7:7-15 and Psalm 85:8-13; Ephesians 1:3-14; Mark 6:14-29) can be found at Vanderbilt's Lectionary page.
We like things to be neat, to easily fit into categories. We want good news to be all wonderful, no "buts" anywhere. We want bad news to be total, as well. We might hope for a "but" in the midst of bad news, but if we're honest, it's easier to wrap our minds around something totally awful.
Scripture keeps confounding that desire by giving us a mixture of both. Sometimes the good and the bad balance each other out, but most of the time they sit side by side, somehow coexisting with no attempt to reconcile themselves. Only the most robust theological gymnastics can get us to a place where a passage fits our desired "all or nothing" mold.
In 2 Samuel 6, David is bringing the Ark of the Covenant back to Jerusalem. This victory parade marks his full ascension to the throne, the end of years of conflict where it looked like the end for him too many times to count. Yet in the midst of the victory parade, his wife, Michal, the daughter of the recently deceased former King Saul, looks at the parade and despises David "with all of her heart". And we know that David quickly gets complacent and bored on the throne, leading to misery for nearly everyone in his life. Good news and bad sit side by side.
In Amos 7, the news is mostly bad. Israel has been getting it so wrong for so many generations that it seems as if God has finally run out of patience with them (if that idea doesn't sit well theologically, it bears mentioning that like many other Old Testament texts, Amos was compiled and redacted during and after the time of exile being foreshadowed- we simply have to consider the bias in the source). But we know that in time the people will return, that the walls of Jerusalem will be rebuilt, that Temple worship will happen again, for a time. Good news and bad sit side by side.
The New Testament texts are similarly messy. Paul waxes poetic at the beginning of his letter to the Church at Ephesus about how what happened in the life, death, and Resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth is the culmination of what God has been up to all along, how this beautiful cosmic symmetry is good news for you and I, and how it all makes sense in the end. But the means by which we get there, particularly the suffering and death of Jesus of Nazareth, and to a lesser extent the trials that the early church is facing and their need for this kind of encouragement from Paul make a hard road toward the happy ending. Good news and bad sit side by side.
It's pretty much the same story in Mark's gospel. We're told in a flashback how Herod Antipas is freaked out by Jesus because of his lingering guilt over what he did to John the Baptist. His insecurity and itchy trigger finger overcame what tiny shred of decency he had. His very opportunistic wife/sister-in-law and stepdaughter/niece (ewww...) manipulated him into showing how weak he really was. But John's exit from the stage makes room for Jesus. In another telling of the story, John himself says, "He must increase and I must decrease" (John 3:30). John's martyrdom is a piece of cake compared to what Jesus endures, so part of being the lesser of the two ends up being the better option.
Sometimes the good and bad news that come to us in these readings balance each other out in a Zen-like way. But most of the time, just like in real life, they exist side by side, sometimes having very little to do with one another other than proximity.
That's why the Bible is so frustrating. That's why the Bible is so wonderful.
The Bible is so human and so divine at the same time. All these things that seem like they couldn't possibly coexist do, just like you and me. And mysteriously, unexpectedly, God is somehow in the midst of it all, somehow making sense of this giant mess we have made. It doesn't fit neatly into our preferred artificial categories.
It's confounding. It's messy. It's real. This is our story.
We like things to be neat, to easily fit into categories. We want good news to be all wonderful, no "buts" anywhere. We want bad news to be total, as well. We might hope for a "but" in the midst of bad news, but if we're honest, it's easier to wrap our minds around something totally awful.
Scripture keeps confounding that desire by giving us a mixture of both. Sometimes the good and the bad balance each other out, but most of the time they sit side by side, somehow coexisting with no attempt to reconcile themselves. Only the most robust theological gymnastics can get us to a place where a passage fits our desired "all or nothing" mold.
In 2 Samuel 6, David is bringing the Ark of the Covenant back to Jerusalem. This victory parade marks his full ascension to the throne, the end of years of conflict where it looked like the end for him too many times to count. Yet in the midst of the victory parade, his wife, Michal, the daughter of the recently deceased former King Saul, looks at the parade and despises David "with all of her heart". And we know that David quickly gets complacent and bored on the throne, leading to misery for nearly everyone in his life. Good news and bad sit side by side.
In Amos 7, the news is mostly bad. Israel has been getting it so wrong for so many generations that it seems as if God has finally run out of patience with them (if that idea doesn't sit well theologically, it bears mentioning that like many other Old Testament texts, Amos was compiled and redacted during and after the time of exile being foreshadowed- we simply have to consider the bias in the source). But we know that in time the people will return, that the walls of Jerusalem will be rebuilt, that Temple worship will happen again, for a time. Good news and bad sit side by side.
The New Testament texts are similarly messy. Paul waxes poetic at the beginning of his letter to the Church at Ephesus about how what happened in the life, death, and Resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth is the culmination of what God has been up to all along, how this beautiful cosmic symmetry is good news for you and I, and how it all makes sense in the end. But the means by which we get there, particularly the suffering and death of Jesus of Nazareth, and to a lesser extent the trials that the early church is facing and their need for this kind of encouragement from Paul make a hard road toward the happy ending. Good news and bad sit side by side.
It's pretty much the same story in Mark's gospel. We're told in a flashback how Herod Antipas is freaked out by Jesus because of his lingering guilt over what he did to John the Baptist. His insecurity and itchy trigger finger overcame what tiny shred of decency he had. His very opportunistic wife/sister-in-law and stepdaughter/niece (ewww...) manipulated him into showing how weak he really was. But John's exit from the stage makes room for Jesus. In another telling of the story, John himself says, "He must increase and I must decrease" (John 3:30). John's martyrdom is a piece of cake compared to what Jesus endures, so part of being the lesser of the two ends up being the better option.
Sometimes the good and bad news that come to us in these readings balance each other out in a Zen-like way. But most of the time, just like in real life, they exist side by side, sometimes having very little to do with one another other than proximity.
That's why the Bible is so frustrating. That's why the Bible is so wonderful.
The Bible is so human and so divine at the same time. All these things that seem like they couldn't possibly coexist do, just like you and me. And mysteriously, unexpectedly, God is somehow in the midst of it all, somehow making sense of this giant mess we have made. It doesn't fit neatly into our preferred artificial categories.
It's confounding. It's messy. It's real. This is our story.
Monday, June 29, 2015
A Different Kind of Greatness- Lectionary readings for July 5
I'm going to try blogging again. I never made the decision to stop, but for about the last two years I've been so stressed and overwhelmed I just never had enough energy to flesh thoughts out enough to post. But now I'm in a new ministry context, part of a great staff team, and I don't have to solve every single problem that comes up!
Contrast that concept of "greatness" with what Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 12, and how Jesus' hometown neighbors react to his teaching in Mark 6. Paul keeps asking God to remove his "thorn in the flesh", never elaborating on what it is, but God replies, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness." Paul is not impressing anybody on his own. Anything great that comes from him is clearly from God. It may be that Paul is the one who needs that reminder more than anyone else.
The same counter-intuitive definition of "greatness" shows up in this week's gospel reading. Jesus is astounding everyone with his teaching, but the people in his hometown can't get past the fact that he used to play baseball with their little brother, or that Jesus took their cousin to the prom (he brought her home before curfew, of course). In their minds a great rabbi should have his seminary degree from Jerusalem and wear fancy robes. The t-shirt and jeans guy I used to wrestle with on the playground can't possibly be a great teacher.
God's definition of greatness looks a whole lot different than ours. Great things from God come through the means we don't expect. It has to work that way because we human beings are so thick-headed we'll come up with any reason to explain why something happened. "That guy's just really smart." "Wow, what a crazy coincidence. You sure got lucky!" It's easier that way, because if it's all up to us, if our definition of "greatness" really is true, then we have some measure of control.
The scariest thing, perhaps the most faithful thing that we can do when something unexpected happens is not rush to explain it away, but to sit back, look around, and say "huh, maybe God's up to something here..."
The Staff-Parish Chair here at Christ UMC (who, incidentally I went to seminary with) asked me what was I "worried about" going from a Lead Pastor role to being on a staff. Nothing really "worries" me per say but the biggest change at the outset is not preaching every single week. So to get back in the swing of blogging, each Monday I'll post thoughts on the lectionary texts for the coming Sunday.
The readings for Sunday, July 5 can be found at Vanderbilt's Lectionary site.
In 2 Samuel 5, David takes his place as Israel's king after Saul's death, and as verse 10 tells us, "David became greater and greater, for the LORD, the God of hosts, was with him." God's favor and David's greatness seems intertwined. But what did this greatness get him once he was on the throne? He murdered one of his most loyal soldiers to cover up a fling with the soldier's wife, his children fought him and each other constantly, and he died alone and miserable.
Contrast that concept of "greatness" with what Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 12, and how Jesus' hometown neighbors react to his teaching in Mark 6. Paul keeps asking God to remove his "thorn in the flesh", never elaborating on what it is, but God replies, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness." Paul is not impressing anybody on his own. Anything great that comes from him is clearly from God. It may be that Paul is the one who needs that reminder more than anyone else.
The same counter-intuitive definition of "greatness" shows up in this week's gospel reading. Jesus is astounding everyone with his teaching, but the people in his hometown can't get past the fact that he used to play baseball with their little brother, or that Jesus took their cousin to the prom (he brought her home before curfew, of course). In their minds a great rabbi should have his seminary degree from Jerusalem and wear fancy robes. The t-shirt and jeans guy I used to wrestle with on the playground can't possibly be a great teacher.
God's definition of greatness looks a whole lot different than ours. Great things from God come through the means we don't expect. It has to work that way because we human beings are so thick-headed we'll come up with any reason to explain why something happened. "That guy's just really smart." "Wow, what a crazy coincidence. You sure got lucky!" It's easier that way, because if it's all up to us, if our definition of "greatness" really is true, then we have some measure of control.
The scariest thing, perhaps the most faithful thing that we can do when something unexpected happens is not rush to explain it away, but to sit back, look around, and say "huh, maybe God's up to something here..."
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
A Prayer for Those with Mental Illness
I came across a prayer this morning in Laurence Hull Stookey's This Day: A Wesleyan Way of Prayer (a daily prayer guide I'd highly recommend). In light of Robin Williams' tragic death and the resulting conversations around mental illness, I thought this would be appropriate to share today:
You, O God, are the author of peace,
and in you is neither confusion nor disorder.
In Jesus you showed your compassion
to all who suffered with troubled spirits.
Therefore look mercifully upon those whose minds are confused,
to whom this world seems a jumble,
or who live in a world that does not exist.
In their times of agitation and anguish, calm their spirits.
In their times of clarity, grant them happy memories
and joy to their present lives.
Give wisdom and gentleness to those who take care of them,
especially to those who knew them in better times
and now feel helpless and anguished.
Grant them all the promise that in the end
you will restore order and peace within your eternal home.
Through Jesus, the Healer
Amen.
You, O God, are the author of peace,
and in you is neither confusion nor disorder.
In Jesus you showed your compassion
to all who suffered with troubled spirits.
Therefore look mercifully upon those whose minds are confused,
to whom this world seems a jumble,
or who live in a world that does not exist.
In their times of agitation and anguish, calm their spirits.
In their times of clarity, grant them happy memories
and joy to their present lives.
Give wisdom and gentleness to those who take care of them,
especially to those who knew them in better times
and now feel helpless and anguished.
Grant them all the promise that in the end
you will restore order and peace within your eternal home.
Through Jesus, the Healer
Amen.
Sunday, May 18, 2014
An Emotionally Exhausting Day (the good kind)
Today was simultaneously a great day and a tough day at Arlington.
This morning at 10am we had five new people join the church. Four of them were baptized, and the other reaffirmed his baptismal vows. Each one of these new brothers and sisters have had negative experiences with church in the past, feeling unwelcome, judged, etc. Each of them said that Arlington was the first place they felt loved and accepted for who they were.
Their new commitments to Christ today are a testament to the love of God made known through the people of our church, who welcomed in people who were taking a big step by even walking into a building with a steeple on top. They showed their love over the weeks and months in ways both big and small, helping these people grow comfortable enough to enter into the communal journey of discipleship. Today was one of those days where the church was living into what God believes we can be, and I am very proud to serve as their pastor.
Today was also tough because tonight was the last service of The Road, at least for a little while. We're taking a summer hiatus, with the goal of returning in the Fall in some form.
The Road was our project almost from day 1 at Arlington. When I was first projected here and had my first meeting with the congregational leaders, they mentioned that they had had energy around an alternative worship gathering for a number of years. I replied that I had had experience birthing such a service at Crievewood, so very early on such a new service became our goal. A team of folks spent the better part of a year studying and visioning what it would look like together, and the first Sunday after Easter in 2012, we launched The Road.
Since then we've had good times and hard times. We've had big crowds and done worship just for the team that makes the service happen every week. Lately it's been more of the latter, which is why we're taking the break for the summer.
Having invested so much of my time, energy, and passion into The Road, it's very hard not to take the reality that the service is not effective in its current format personally. Intellectually I know that's not the case, of course, but my humanness keeps pulling me back into a frame of mind where it's all about me.
As we worshipped tonight, there was a good energy, and yet a strange sense of finality, like it was all over. I'm simultaneously relieved because I'm exhausted and need the break, and yet I'm also very sad because part of me feels like we failed. I know that's not the case, of course. We can tell stories of many people who have been blessed by what God has been doing through The Road, but that's my lesser self creeping in again.
So the great joy of the baptisms this morning and the disappointment of the hiatus beginning this evening sit side by side. Neither cancels the other out (which I suppose is a sign of progress, because my tendency is to let the negative win the day), but the end result is that all my emotional energy is spent, and I'm turning to blogging- a form of expression I haven't utilized much lately-to express it as best I can.
Today is perhaps a microcosm of what the totality of life and ministry are all about. Tomorrow's sabbath rest is sorely needed, then it's back unto the breach once more...
This morning at 10am we had five new people join the church. Four of them were baptized, and the other reaffirmed his baptismal vows. Each one of these new brothers and sisters have had negative experiences with church in the past, feeling unwelcome, judged, etc. Each of them said that Arlington was the first place they felt loved and accepted for who they were.
Their new commitments to Christ today are a testament to the love of God made known through the people of our church, who welcomed in people who were taking a big step by even walking into a building with a steeple on top. They showed their love over the weeks and months in ways both big and small, helping these people grow comfortable enough to enter into the communal journey of discipleship. Today was one of those days where the church was living into what God believes we can be, and I am very proud to serve as their pastor.
Today was also tough because tonight was the last service of The Road, at least for a little while. We're taking a summer hiatus, with the goal of returning in the Fall in some form.
The Road was our project almost from day 1 at Arlington. When I was first projected here and had my first meeting with the congregational leaders, they mentioned that they had had energy around an alternative worship gathering for a number of years. I replied that I had had experience birthing such a service at Crievewood, so very early on such a new service became our goal. A team of folks spent the better part of a year studying and visioning what it would look like together, and the first Sunday after Easter in 2012, we launched The Road.
Since then we've had good times and hard times. We've had big crowds and done worship just for the team that makes the service happen every week. Lately it's been more of the latter, which is why we're taking the break for the summer.
Having invested so much of my time, energy, and passion into The Road, it's very hard not to take the reality that the service is not effective in its current format personally. Intellectually I know that's not the case, of course, but my humanness keeps pulling me back into a frame of mind where it's all about me.
As we worshipped tonight, there was a good energy, and yet a strange sense of finality, like it was all over. I'm simultaneously relieved because I'm exhausted and need the break, and yet I'm also very sad because part of me feels like we failed. I know that's not the case, of course. We can tell stories of many people who have been blessed by what God has been doing through The Road, but that's my lesser self creeping in again.
So the great joy of the baptisms this morning and the disappointment of the hiatus beginning this evening sit side by side. Neither cancels the other out (which I suppose is a sign of progress, because my tendency is to let the negative win the day), but the end result is that all my emotional energy is spent, and I'm turning to blogging- a form of expression I haven't utilized much lately-to express it as best I can.
Today is perhaps a microcosm of what the totality of life and ministry are all about. Tomorrow's sabbath rest is sorely needed, then it's back unto the breach once more...
Wednesday, April 09, 2014
Shameless Self Promotion- Chuck Knows Church edition
Easter is right around the corner, and our friends at Chuck Knows Church have produced an amazing short film, Resurrection, that would be a great addition to your worship service if it includes video, or just to share with your family, friends, and congregation.
It shows how Christians get so hung up on Jesus' death and forget that the core of our faith is Jesus' Resurrection, and that it brings us joy! WE ARE EASTER PEOPLE!!!
OK, yes, the first and last parts of this film were filmed in my church, and got to I play the pastor (I've never had to stretch more as an actor), but my obvious bias aside, this is pretty darn good.
If you're not familiar with Chuck Knows Church, it's a web series where the main character, Chuck (an actor named Josh Childs who is as friendly as he seems on camera), talks to the camera and explains quirky things we do in church like liturgical colors, different holidays, the funny stuff clergy wear, etc.
Happy Easter, Easter people.
It shows how Christians get so hung up on Jesus' death and forget that the core of our faith is Jesus' Resurrection, and that it brings us joy! WE ARE EASTER PEOPLE!!!
OK, yes, the first and last parts of this film were filmed in my church, and got to I play the pastor (I've never had to stretch more as an actor), but my obvious bias aside, this is pretty darn good.
If you're not familiar with Chuck Knows Church, it's a web series where the main character, Chuck (an actor named Josh Childs who is as friendly as he seems on camera), talks to the camera and explains quirky things we do in church like liturgical colors, different holidays, the funny stuff clergy wear, etc.
Happy Easter, Easter people.
Monday, April 07, 2014
Return of the Roundtable
The Sermon Roundtable is returning.
For four years in Clarksville, every Tuesday night was a time when you could come and discuss the scripture passage(s) we would be reading at Bethlehem UMC the following Sunday. Those that participated ended up being much more engaged in the sermon on Sunday, since they had been part of the preparation process. Those who came on a regular basis really became theologians in their own right, growing in their ability to read the Bible critically in conversation with others who brought very different life experiences to the table.
I wrote an article about this gathering a few years back in Circuit Rider magazine, Collaborative Preaching and Holy Conversation, which you can read on Ministry Matters.
I have wanted to bring this method of collaborative preaching to Arlington, but I could never really find a time to do it with all the other things I did each week. We're starting this now because over the last three years, all the mid-week Bible study formats we've tried have not worked, so we're trying something new outside of the church walls.
Arlington's Sermon Roundtable be meeting on Wednesdays at 6pm at the Starbucks in Nashboro Village (2308 Murfessboro Pike, Nashville).
We'll be discussing the text(s) that we'll be reading at Arlington 10 days later. This week we'll be reading John 20:1-20, which is the Resurrection story in John's gospel that we'll be reading on Easter Sunday, April 20.
There are no rules at this Bible study other than to respect one another. There are no dumb questions, no bad ideas, even if we disagree. This is a fun format where we can explore in a more relaxed environment than we usually experience inside the walls of a church building.
The title "Sermon Roundtable" is taken from the title of a book called The Roundtable Pulpit one of my seminary professors, John McClure, wrote, describing the theory of incorporating multiple voices in proclamation.
For those that may be wondering, I haven't given up blogging altogether. I've had lots of thoughts and feelings in the last few months, I just didn't think that this was the best medium to share them as I am thinking through issues of church, faith, and my own understanding of how God is calling me in ministry.
I'll try to post on a semi-regular basis, but I don't know when or if I'll ever be a regular blogger again.
In the meantime, if you're in Nashville and inclined to engage in some free form spiritual conversation, come join us on Wednesdays at 6pm.
For four years in Clarksville, every Tuesday night was a time when you could come and discuss the scripture passage(s) we would be reading at Bethlehem UMC the following Sunday. Those that participated ended up being much more engaged in the sermon on Sunday, since they had been part of the preparation process. Those who came on a regular basis really became theologians in their own right, growing in their ability to read the Bible critically in conversation with others who brought very different life experiences to the table.
I wrote an article about this gathering a few years back in Circuit Rider magazine, Collaborative Preaching and Holy Conversation, which you can read on Ministry Matters.
I have wanted to bring this method of collaborative preaching to Arlington, but I could never really find a time to do it with all the other things I did each week. We're starting this now because over the last three years, all the mid-week Bible study formats we've tried have not worked, so we're trying something new outside of the church walls.
Arlington's Sermon Roundtable be meeting on Wednesdays at 6pm at the Starbucks in Nashboro Village (2308 Murfessboro Pike, Nashville).
We'll be discussing the text(s) that we'll be reading at Arlington 10 days later. This week we'll be reading John 20:1-20, which is the Resurrection story in John's gospel that we'll be reading on Easter Sunday, April 20.
There are no rules at this Bible study other than to respect one another. There are no dumb questions, no bad ideas, even if we disagree. This is a fun format where we can explore in a more relaxed environment than we usually experience inside the walls of a church building.
The title "Sermon Roundtable" is taken from the title of a book called The Roundtable Pulpit one of my seminary professors, John McClure, wrote, describing the theory of incorporating multiple voices in proclamation.
For those that may be wondering, I haven't given up blogging altogether. I've had lots of thoughts and feelings in the last few months, I just didn't think that this was the best medium to share them as I am thinking through issues of church, faith, and my own understanding of how God is calling me in ministry.
I'll try to post on a semi-regular basis, but I don't know when or if I'll ever be a regular blogger again.
In the meantime, if you're in Nashville and inclined to engage in some free form spiritual conversation, come join us on Wednesdays at 6pm.
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Shameless Self Promotion: Christmas in the UK Edition
Want proof that the internet has made the world a whole lot smaller?
About a month ago, I got a Facebook message from Richard Corrie, the Faith Producer for BBC Radio Cumbria (Cumbria is in Northern England. Yeah, I had to Google it, too), asking if he could use some material I wrote for their Christmas Eve broadcast.
They used some monologues that I wrote for a chapel service a number of years ago at Vanderbilt Divinity School, imagining what it would be like for Mary, Joseph and one of the shepherds, respectively, to tell about their experience of the Nativity story.
I published these monologues on Ministry Matters a couple years ago, along with some thoughts on how churches could produce their own such material, in an article called The Christmas Story in First Person. (The folks at the BBC only used Mary and Joseph. The Shepherd was my personal favorite, but oh well.)
If you're so inclined, you can go to the BBC's website to listen to the Christmas Eve Service from St. Andrew's Church in Penrith. The service is an hour long and the whole thing is worth the listen, but if you just want to hear the monologues, Mary starts at 18:57, and Joseph at 32:50.
I hope everyone had a blessed and peaceful Christmas, however you chose to spend it. Thanks for reading, and as always, any feedback is greatly appreciated.
I published these monologues on Ministry Matters a couple years ago, along with some thoughts on how churches could produce their own such material, in an article called The Christmas Story in First Person. (The folks at the BBC only used Mary and Joseph. The Shepherd was my personal favorite, but oh well.)
If you're so inclined, you can go to the BBC's website to listen to the Christmas Eve Service from St. Andrew's Church in Penrith. The service is an hour long and the whole thing is worth the listen, but if you just want to hear the monologues, Mary starts at 18:57, and Joseph at 32:50.
I hope everyone had a blessed and peaceful Christmas, however you chose to spend it. Thanks for reading, and as always, any feedback is greatly appreciated.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Thomas Merton Day
45 years ago today he entered the church triumphant after being accidentally electrocuted at a conference in Bangkok
While not officially recognized by any denomination, he is a saint for writers, people who consistently wrestle with their calling, and to all those who crave honesty and authenticity in their spiritual quest
Happy Thomas Merton Day to all
(Icon by William Hart McNichols)
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Shameless Self Promotion- Prop Edition
I have a new article up on Ministry Matters- You're a Prop, and that's OK.
I'm responding to a recent episode of the Homebrewed Christianity podcast in which a former pastor says that one of the downsides of this vocation is that "you are a prop" in many events like weddings and funerals that are supposed to be sacred and worshipful.
My contention is that even if people are requesting the presence of a clergy-person for the "wrong" reasons, it still gives the pastor the opportunity to have significant interaction with people they would not normally get to relate to. A pastor may start off as a prop, but they can make the most of the opportunity with the right attitude.
I wrote the article a few weeks ago. It just posted today, but given a recent video of a priest who went off on a wedding photographer (the editor thankfully did a last minute link to the video in the article), the timing works out great!
Read the article and comment here or on Ministry Matters if you're so inclined. If you like it, please share it with others who might be interested. Thanks for reading!
Regarding the pastor in this video, the time to have such conversations with the photographer and or/ videographer is before the ceremony, but for all we know he may have and they didn't respect his request, or he may not have had the chance to. I've never had this problem, and I like to think I might have handled it a little bit differently, but I applaud him for pushing back and claiming his authority!
I'm responding to a recent episode of the Homebrewed Christianity podcast in which a former pastor says that one of the downsides of this vocation is that "you are a prop" in many events like weddings and funerals that are supposed to be sacred and worshipful.
My contention is that even if people are requesting the presence of a clergy-person for the "wrong" reasons, it still gives the pastor the opportunity to have significant interaction with people they would not normally get to relate to. A pastor may start off as a prop, but they can make the most of the opportunity with the right attitude.
I wrote the article a few weeks ago. It just posted today, but given a recent video of a priest who went off on a wedding photographer (the editor thankfully did a last minute link to the video in the article), the timing works out great!
Read the article and comment here or on Ministry Matters if you're so inclined. If you like it, please share it with others who might be interested. Thanks for reading!
Regarding the pastor in this video, the time to have such conversations with the photographer and or/ videographer is before the ceremony, but for all we know he may have and they didn't respect his request, or he may not have had the chance to. I've never had this problem, and I like to think I might have handled it a little bit differently, but I applaud him for pushing back and claiming his authority!
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Remembering September 11
Anyone alive and old enough to be conscious of what was happening remembers where they were on September 11, 2001, when they heard that we were being attacked. For Generation X the Millennial Generation (I am a member of both since 1980 is the overlap), 9/11 is what Pearl Harbor was for the Greatest Generation and JFK's assassination was for the Baby Boomers.
I was a junior in college, eating cereal in a bedroom I shared with two other guys in my fraternity house. I was a couple years into my first youth ministry job, so I spent quite a bit of time processing the events with middle and high schoolers as well as my college peers.
Preachers have to come up with ten to fifteen minutes of new material every single week, so how I process and reflect on many issues usually ends up in sermons in one way or another. How I have reflected on 9/11 and the many issues it brings up is no exception, so instead of writing a lengthy post, I will simply share two messages where I share some of these reflections.
The first one, "The Renewed Creation" was part of a series on Romans. The tenth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks happened to be on a Sunday, and the events were at the forefront of everyone's mind that morning. We reflected how God's sanctifying grace draws us out of being primarily self centered into reflecting on God's other-centered love.
The second message, "Terror and Resurrection", was shared the Sunday following the Boston Marathon bombings. That week also saw the manhunt that killed one of the bombers playing out on live TV, and a huge chemical plant explosion in Texas. The senselessness of violence and death was very much on everyone's minds, much like on 9/11. We reflected on how, in the face of terror and senseless violence, followers of Jesus witness to the God who enters into our suffering and breaks the power of death, claiming "Resurrection" as the last word.
How do you remember the events of twelve years ago today? Where were you that day? How have your memories changed over time?
I was a junior in college, eating cereal in a bedroom I shared with two other guys in my fraternity house. I was a couple years into my first youth ministry job, so I spent quite a bit of time processing the events with middle and high schoolers as well as my college peers.
Preachers have to come up with ten to fifteen minutes of new material every single week, so how I process and reflect on many issues usually ends up in sermons in one way or another. How I have reflected on 9/11 and the many issues it brings up is no exception, so instead of writing a lengthy post, I will simply share two messages where I share some of these reflections.
The first one, "The Renewed Creation" was part of a series on Romans. The tenth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks happened to be on a Sunday, and the events were at the forefront of everyone's mind that morning. We reflected how God's sanctifying grace draws us out of being primarily self centered into reflecting on God's other-centered love.
The second message, "Terror and Resurrection", was shared the Sunday following the Boston Marathon bombings. That week also saw the manhunt that killed one of the bombers playing out on live TV, and a huge chemical plant explosion in Texas. The senselessness of violence and death was very much on everyone's minds, much like on 9/11. We reflected on how, in the face of terror and senseless violence, followers of Jesus witness to the God who enters into our suffering and breaks the power of death, claiming "Resurrection" as the last word.
How do you remember the events of twelve years ago today? Where were you that day? How have your memories changed over time?
Monday, September 02, 2013
got questions? The Bible
We've begun a new series of messages at Arlington called "got questions?"
Over the summer, people submitted questions they have about God, church, faith, etc. Each week, we're taking one question (or a group of closely related questions) and addressing it. Most of the questions people submitted are of such depth that we can't claim to answer them, but we hope that in our reflecting together, we'll be challenged to grow and hopefully come away with better questions than we started with.
We got a lot of good questions about the Bible. What is it? How did this collection of books come to be? What do we make of it? What is this whole "taking it literally" thing about and is that the only faithful way to read it? (spoiler alert- NO!!!)
The audio of the message is below. You can listen here, on our website, or subscribe in iTunes.
A few minutes in, we reference a video whose audio had to be cut out because of copyright restrictions. "Our friend, Chuck" is Chuck Knows Church, and the episode about the Bible is below, as well.
As always, questions and comments are welcome as long as they are respectful and on topic.
Over the summer, people submitted questions they have about God, church, faith, etc. Each week, we're taking one question (or a group of closely related questions) and addressing it. Most of the questions people submitted are of such depth that we can't claim to answer them, but we hope that in our reflecting together, we'll be challenged to grow and hopefully come away with better questions than we started with.
We got a lot of good questions about the Bible. What is it? How did this collection of books come to be? What do we make of it? What is this whole "taking it literally" thing about and is that the only faithful way to read it? (spoiler alert- NO!!!)
The audio of the message is below. You can listen here, on our website, or subscribe in iTunes.
A few minutes in, we reference a video whose audio had to be cut out because of copyright restrictions. "Our friend, Chuck" is Chuck Knows Church, and the episode about the Bible is below, as well.
As always, questions and comments are welcome as long as they are respectful and on topic.
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
#dreamday
Today is the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, where Martin Luther King, Jr. gave a speech that provided a snapshot for an important era in history.
Known as the "I Have a Dream" speech, the most famous part of the address, the ending, was unscripted. It was a version of a set-peice that King had done a number of times in other venues. Preachers do tend to go down rabbit trails, and occasionally something good happens. :)
If you want to read more about this, and about how King's vocation as a preacher was integral to who he was and what he did, read The Preacher King by Richard Lescher. It's a fantastic perspective on the man and the era and culture that shaped him.
While lots of words are being said about the speech, its importance, and how it may or may not have changed the world (insofar as one single speech is capable of doing, which is probably a good subject for another post, perhaps the best way to honor this anniversary is to simply let the man speak for himself:
What is your contribution to this refrain? What is the dream today? Finish the sentence by tweeting "I have a dream that..." with the hashtag #dreamday. I'll be doing that throughout the day, and posting about it later this evening.
Known as the "I Have a Dream" speech, the most famous part of the address, the ending, was unscripted. It was a version of a set-peice that King had done a number of times in other venues. Preachers do tend to go down rabbit trails, and occasionally something good happens. :)
If you want to read more about this, and about how King's vocation as a preacher was integral to who he was and what he did, read The Preacher King by Richard Lescher. It's a fantastic perspective on the man and the era and culture that shaped him.
While lots of words are being said about the speech, its importance, and how it may or may not have changed the world (insofar as one single speech is capable of doing, which is probably a good subject for another post, perhaps the best way to honor this anniversary is to simply let the man speak for himself:
What is your contribution to this refrain? What is the dream today? Finish the sentence by tweeting "I have a dream that..." with the hashtag #dreamday. I'll be doing that throughout the day, and posting about it later this evening.
Friday, August 02, 2013
Fantasy Football for Preachers
The NFL returns tonight with the Hall of Fame game. Fans can either spend the next month watching pre-season games to cheer for their favorite players for a couple of series running a small portion of their actual playbook, and the rest of the game for guys who won't even make the practice squad, or they can invest way too much time and energy into preparing for their fantasy draft.
Which one do you think I'm doing?
Workin on Sundays is a Fantasy Football league for pastors, lay staffers, or anyone else who might be guilty of glancing at their phone to see how their matchup is going during the sermon. Bonus points if you're doing it while you're preaching!
Shoot me an email or message me on Facebook for the password. This league is for entertainment purposes only. No money or prizes will be exchanged. Only lovingly brutal Christian smack-talk and bragging rights.
Which one do you think I'm doing?
Workin on Sundays is a Fantasy Football league for pastors, lay staffers, or anyone else who might be guilty of glancing at their phone to see how their matchup is going during the sermon. Bonus points if you're doing it while you're preaching!
Shoot me an email or message me on Facebook for the password. This league is for entertainment purposes only. No money or prizes will be exchanged. Only lovingly brutal Christian smack-talk and bragging rights.
Saturday, July 27, 2013
got questions?- an upcoming sermon series
At Arlington we'll be starting a series of messages called "got questions?"
We've invited the congregation to submit questions they have about God, the Bible, church, and anything else faith related. We'll pick the most popular/interesting ones and address one each week in worship from August 18 through September.
I want to emphasize address, not answer. We might be able to provide satisfactory answers to why we use particular colors during different liturgical seasons, but we're setting ourselves up for failure if we assume we can answer the problem of evil or the existence of God once and for all. Hopefully we'll all come away from these messages with more insight and better questions than we came in with.
Because we podcast our messages, I want to give the same opportunity to those who aren't with us physically on Sunday mornings. What questions do you have? Or, what questions do you think would be interesting to others? Leave them in the comments below or send them to this address, then tune in to see what we do with your questions.
Speaking of podcasts, here is our latest message on "Rejoicing for the Right Reasons"
You can listen in the player here, on our website, or subscribe to us on iTunes. If you choose the latter option, please take a moment to rate and review us. Thanks!
We've invited the congregation to submit questions they have about God, the Bible, church, and anything else faith related. We'll pick the most popular/interesting ones and address one each week in worship from August 18 through September.
I want to emphasize address, not answer. We might be able to provide satisfactory answers to why we use particular colors during different liturgical seasons, but we're setting ourselves up for failure if we assume we can answer the problem of evil or the existence of God once and for all. Hopefully we'll all come away from these messages with more insight and better questions than we came in with.
Because we podcast our messages, I want to give the same opportunity to those who aren't with us physically on Sunday mornings. What questions do you have? Or, what questions do you think would be interesting to others? Leave them in the comments below or send them to this address, then tune in to see what we do with your questions.
Speaking of podcasts, here is our latest message on "Rejoicing for the Right Reasons"
You can listen in the player here, on our website, or subscribe to us on iTunes. If you choose the latter option, please take a moment to rate and review us. Thanks!
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Two Invitations
This summer at Arlington, we're reading the New Testament together using a reading plan from the Optina Community in Russia, courtesy of our friends at YouVersion. The plan involves reading one chapter from the gospels every day, then two from the rest of the New Testament, beginning with Acts. At the end of 89 days (which takes us from Memorial Day up to a few days before Labor Day), we'll have read the entire New Testament together.
Click on the links to learn more and participate with us if you're so inclined.
I'm going to occasionally blog about the day's readings if I find something interesting, as I did today.
I'm on day 4 of the plan, which involved reading Matthew 4.
I'm kind of embarrassed to admit this, because I love both of these stories and I've preached on them numerous times, but it occurred to me this morning that these two stories are in the same chapter, and their proximity brings out an interesting contrast.
In the first story, Matthew 4:1-11, John has just baptized Jesus in the Jordan, and Jesus heads out for a long retreat in the desert that culminates in a proof-texting joust with ha-Satan. The absolute best meditation on this story I've ever seen is Henri Nouwen's In the Name of Jesus. In the second story, Matthew 4:18-22, Jesus calls some fishermen as his first disciples.
As I was reading the chapter as a whole this morning, it occurred to me that both of these stories involve one person inviting another to do something significant, and the contrast in these invitations spoke to me about the crossroads we find ourselves at in the church today.
Jesus' verbal sparring match with the devil involved three challenges that either implied or outright promised a specific reward: "You've been fasting for 40 days. Hungry? Make some food out of these rocks. Heck, with that kind of power, you could solve the world hunger problem!" "Want people to listen to you? Do a cool trick so they'll know you're for real!" "Swear allegiance to me and I'll give you the keys to this whole place. Think of all the good you can do!"
Jesus' call to those first disciples simply invited them to act. "Follow me, and I will show you how to fish for people".
In a consumer oriented society, where you can't go anywhere without being bombarded by advertisements, one has to do something pretty special to rise above the din and get people's attention. We in the church spend lots of time and money figuring out how to most effectively answer the "what's in it for me?" question. We say things like "we will strengthen your family", "we'll show you how to find true happiness and fulfillment", or "you can punch your ticket to Heaven here".
None of these things are inherently bad, of course, but the message is fundamentally self-centered. "Here is what this will do for YOU."
Setting aside for a moment that the temptations were from the devil, none of the things Jesus were being challenged to were inherently bad, either. They would have allowed him to accomplish his mission in a much more efficient manner. The problem is that he would have been glorifying himself, instead of letting God work and provide the ultimate glory of the Resurrection.
Jesus' invitation to his first followers, on the other hand, has little to do with their own personal gain. He only invites them to follow with some vague metaphor that helps them understand that their new mission will be at least a little bit like what they already do: fish.
Perhaps the correct response to a consumer driven, ME oriented culture is not to make our message a barely Christianized version of an ad for a washing machine, but to offer a real alternative to all these other things that may promise ultimate fulfillment, but ultimately leave us feeling more empty and more alone.
This is a terrible marketing strategy, of course. We won't promise a stronger family, greater financial security, or certainty about anything, really. We can't promise bigger churches with more people in the pews and more dollars in the plates, who pay their full year's apportionments on January 1 (my apologies to Bishops and District Superintendents).
All we really have to offer is the promise of being part of something bigger than ourselves. We have the opportunity to the never-ending ME addiction of our consumer society and make a difference in the world that lasts after machines break down and clothes wear out.
In the process, we just might find a stronger family, more fulfillment, and all that other stuff, but it's one of the perks along the way rather than the end goal.
Maybe we should drop all the ME oriented marketing. Maybe our logos should say, "Let's get over ourselves and go do something meaningful". That's probably a bad marketing strategy, but it did work for Jesus. It's worth a shot.
Click on the links to learn more and participate with us if you're so inclined.
I'm going to occasionally blog about the day's readings if I find something interesting, as I did today.
I'm on day 4 of the plan, which involved reading Matthew 4.
I'm kind of embarrassed to admit this, because I love both of these stories and I've preached on them numerous times, but it occurred to me this morning that these two stories are in the same chapter, and their proximity brings out an interesting contrast.
In the first story, Matthew 4:1-11, John has just baptized Jesus in the Jordan, and Jesus heads out for a long retreat in the desert that culminates in a proof-texting joust with ha-Satan. The absolute best meditation on this story I've ever seen is Henri Nouwen's In the Name of Jesus. In the second story, Matthew 4:18-22, Jesus calls some fishermen as his first disciples.
As I was reading the chapter as a whole this morning, it occurred to me that both of these stories involve one person inviting another to do something significant, and the contrast in these invitations spoke to me about the crossroads we find ourselves at in the church today.
Jesus' verbal sparring match with the devil involved three challenges that either implied or outright promised a specific reward: "You've been fasting for 40 days. Hungry? Make some food out of these rocks. Heck, with that kind of power, you could solve the world hunger problem!" "Want people to listen to you? Do a cool trick so they'll know you're for real!" "Swear allegiance to me and I'll give you the keys to this whole place. Think of all the good you can do!"
Jesus' call to those first disciples simply invited them to act. "Follow me, and I will show you how to fish for people".
In a consumer oriented society, where you can't go anywhere without being bombarded by advertisements, one has to do something pretty special to rise above the din and get people's attention. We in the church spend lots of time and money figuring out how to most effectively answer the "what's in it for me?" question. We say things like "we will strengthen your family", "we'll show you how to find true happiness and fulfillment", or "you can punch your ticket to Heaven here".
None of these things are inherently bad, of course, but the message is fundamentally self-centered. "Here is what this will do for YOU."
Setting aside for a moment that the temptations were from the devil, none of the things Jesus were being challenged to were inherently bad, either. They would have allowed him to accomplish his mission in a much more efficient manner. The problem is that he would have been glorifying himself, instead of letting God work and provide the ultimate glory of the Resurrection.
Jesus' invitation to his first followers, on the other hand, has little to do with their own personal gain. He only invites them to follow with some vague metaphor that helps them understand that their new mission will be at least a little bit like what they already do: fish.
Perhaps the correct response to a consumer driven, ME oriented culture is not to make our message a barely Christianized version of an ad for a washing machine, but to offer a real alternative to all these other things that may promise ultimate fulfillment, but ultimately leave us feeling more empty and more alone.
This is a terrible marketing strategy, of course. We won't promise a stronger family, greater financial security, or certainty about anything, really. We can't promise bigger churches with more people in the pews and more dollars in the plates, who pay their full year's apportionments on January 1 (my apologies to Bishops and District Superintendents).
All we really have to offer is the promise of being part of something bigger than ourselves. We have the opportunity to the never-ending ME addiction of our consumer society and make a difference in the world that lasts after machines break down and clothes wear out.
In the process, we just might find a stronger family, more fulfillment, and all that other stuff, but it's one of the perks along the way rather than the end goal.
Maybe we should drop all the ME oriented marketing. Maybe our logos should say, "Let's get over ourselves and go do something meaningful". That's probably a bad marketing strategy, but it did work for Jesus. It's worth a shot.
Friday, May 24, 2013
What Warms Your Heart? (Strangely or otherwise)
Today is a special holiday for Methodists. Some call it Aldersgate Day, others Heart-warming Day, others simply Wesley Day. We celebrate the anniversary of John Wesley's "heart-warming" experience, which in some ways is unfair because his brother, Charles, had a similar experience three days earlier.
275 years ago, on May 24, 1738, John Wesley had an experience of his heart being "strangely warmed" at a prayer meeting on Aldersgate Street in London. It was not a "conversion" experience in the sense that he became a follower of Jesus in that moment. He had been a deeply committed Christian all his life. But Wesley had just arrived back in England after a missionary stint in the American colonies that was a complete and total disaster.
Wesley had grown up in a very pious home, and his type-A personality led him to try to control everything. As a result, he was always trying to earn God's love, and he had finally hit a wall and realized he couldn't be good enough and work hard enough to be worthy (however he defined that) in God's eyes. At this prayer meeting, he was hearing someone read from Martin Luther's Preface to Romans, expounding on Paul's theme of how grace and nothing else connects us to God and makes us whole.
While none of Luther's works, particularly this one, are the most heart-warming things one can read, it spoke to the point of crisis that Wesley found himself in. He finally let go and made room for the Holy Spirit to assure him that he was right with God.
On this Aldersgate Day, I see the church wrestling with itself over how to "get it right". We assume that if we get our theology or ethics correct, if we have the proper stance on human sexuality, if we worship better or make better appointments, or generally achieve any kind of "better" performance (again, however you define that), that God will approve of us and shower us with blessings of more people in the pews and dollars in the plate.
So today, let's "let go", even just for a moment. Let's set aside all these things that we argue about, important though they are, and simply celebrate what we already see God doing amongst us. What warms your heart today?
It warms my heart to see the people in Oklahoma who are helping their neighbors dig through the rubble of their houses, even though their own house was destroyed, too.
It warms my heart to see the people in my church who are the most materially needy be the first to volunteer to serve others who are in need.
It warms my heart to see people reconcile with one another and let go of old grudges when they realize that life is too short to stay mad at one another.
Update: it warms my heart to see this! A Sikh woman's gracious response to a rude post on Reddit actually caused the poster to reconsider his actions, open his mind, and apologize! (there are some 4 letter words, but the heart-warming awesomeness is worth it)
Those are some of the things that warm my heart on this Day. What warms your heart? Leave a comment and let's bless each other today.
Wesley had grown up in a very pious home, and his type-A personality led him to try to control everything. As a result, he was always trying to earn God's love, and he had finally hit a wall and realized he couldn't be good enough and work hard enough to be worthy (however he defined that) in God's eyes. At this prayer meeting, he was hearing someone read from Martin Luther's Preface to Romans, expounding on Paul's theme of how grace and nothing else connects us to God and makes us whole.
While none of Luther's works, particularly this one, are the most heart-warming things one can read, it spoke to the point of crisis that Wesley found himself in. He finally let go and made room for the Holy Spirit to assure him that he was right with God.
On this Aldersgate Day, I see the church wrestling with itself over how to "get it right". We assume that if we get our theology or ethics correct, if we have the proper stance on human sexuality, if we worship better or make better appointments, or generally achieve any kind of "better" performance (again, however you define that), that God will approve of us and shower us with blessings of more people in the pews and dollars in the plate.
So today, let's "let go", even just for a moment. Let's set aside all these things that we argue about, important though they are, and simply celebrate what we already see God doing amongst us. What warms your heart today?
It warms my heart to see the people in Oklahoma who are helping their neighbors dig through the rubble of their houses, even though their own house was destroyed, too.
It warms my heart to see the people in my church who are the most materially needy be the first to volunteer to serve others who are in need.
It warms my heart to see people reconcile with one another and let go of old grudges when they realize that life is too short to stay mad at one another.
Update: it warms my heart to see this! A Sikh woman's gracious response to a rude post on Reddit actually caused the poster to reconsider his actions, open his mind, and apologize! (there are some 4 letter words, but the heart-warming awesomeness is worth it)
Those are some of the things that warm my heart on this Day. What warms your heart? Leave a comment and let's bless each other today.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Star Trek: Into Darkness and Theological Anthropology
Warning 1: SPOILERS to follow. If you haven't seen Star Trek: Into Darkness (you really should, and it's worth the extra few bucks to see it in IMAX 3D) and you don't want to know what happens, bookmark this post and read it later.
Warning 2: major geekiness follows, of both the sci-fi and theology varieties.
You have been warned.
Before seeing the new Star Trek movie, I read a number of reviews that had wildly different takes on it. Some said that it was amazing and the reason you go to the movies in the summer. Others couldn't get over the massive leaps in logic and the rather deux ex machina nature of the ending. Still others fixated on all the references to other Star Trek stories. I figured that someone had to be wrong and someone had to be right.
Well, it turns out that they're all right, in their own way. The effects are incredible, if somewhat overbearing. And there are lots of references not only to other Star Trek stories, but to other movies, as well. A fight scene near the end makes one think of the Mustafar battle between Obi-wan and Anakin in Star Wars episode III. A scene near the beginning where "John Harrison" wipes out many of Starfleet's top officers seems very similar to a scene in Godfather III. I kept waiting for an admiral to protest leaving his lucky coat.
I think this latter aspect of the movie says a lot about the cultural moment we find ourselves in, where we're obsessed with irony and seem to award cool-points for one's ability to make as many clever pop culture references as possible. Family Guy and the Scary Movie franchise are prime examples.
The frequent references to other Trek stories struck some as lazy storytelling. After all, the JJ Abrams reboot found the best of both worlds, blending the established universe and characters with a clean slate/alternate reality thanks to some time traveling Romulans. The photo above appeared in the very first trailers, and I figured that's as far as the reference to the final scene in Wrath of Kahn would go. It turns out I was wrong.
Why not take advantage of the clean slate? Why not introduce new characters and new stories? After all, the alternate timeline leaves them un-beholden to the Trek cannon. Why tempt fate by risking the new Kahn not measuring up to Ricardo Montalban? (no worries there- Benedict Cumberbatch owns it)
We don't know if the filmmakers are making any kind of explicitly theological or philosophical statement. Probably not, as JJ Abrams has said he initially preferred Star Wars over Star Trek because the latter was "too philisophical". Nevertheless, he has created shows like Lost that have all sorts of latent theology, whether intended or not.
But, narrative choices aside, simply looking at all the similarities between the "old" timeline and the "new" raises questions of theological anthropology: how we understand humanity overall and individual personhood in relationship to the divine.
The similarities between Into Darkness and Wrath of Kahn go far beyond the presence of the titular character. A core idea explicitly stated by Spock in both movies is that "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few", both spoken at times when he was prepared to sacrifice himself for the good of a larger group.
Both films feature a main character entering a lethal radiation zone to fix a mechanical problem that would allow the ship to warp out of danger, saving the crew, but killing the person in the process. In Darkness, Kirk even tells Spock that his self sacrifice is "what you would have done".
Both death scenes feature a conversation between Kirk and Spock through the glass, the person on the outside having to be held back from trying to rescue their friend (again, see the photo above). And, of course, both characters are resurrected sooner or later so the adventures can continue.
Again, putting aside the question of what the screen writers were thinking, how is it that such similar things would happen in two different timelines? The alternate realities were created by time travelers who altered Kirk's life in a major way by ensuring that he grew up without a father. The butterfly effect resulted in Kirk and Spock meeting and forming their friendship under extremely different circumstances.
From these differences, one might conclude that such formative events might have led Kirk to become a fundamentally different person, one with whom Spock would have never developed a friendship. In fact, the first movie heavily suggests that their friendship would never have happened if not for the intervention of Spock Prime (the Spock from the original timeline who ends up in the alternate). But neither of these conclusions turns out to be right.
So clearly, there is the latent idea in the story that one's circumstances only have a superficial influence on who one is at the core of their being- that there is some kind of fundamental created personhood that cannot be undone no matter what happens to us. In other words, nature is more powerful than nurture.
The Arminian aspect of my theological heritage doesn't like the implications here. If Kirk and Spock are fundamentally wired to be a certain way, are they really free to choose these actions that come from their gut? Is their choice to sacrifice themselves to save others really heroic if it's not really a choice?
Then again, there is something appealing about a story where nature trumps nurture. The fundamental goodness in each of these characters, particularly the way they make one another better, can't be changed by those external circumstances. Perhaps that says something about the perseverance of grace in the face of all obstacles.
That would, of course, also suggest that Khan was going to be evil no matter what. But he's genetically engineered to be a megalomaniac, so perhaps the bad hands he's dealt in each respective timeline override the fleeting glimpses of altruism and genuine human emotion he displays at certain moments.
So, do you agree with the theological anthropology inherent in Into Darkness? Are we who we were created to be, regardless of things that happen to us that are out of our control? Or does nurture have a much bigger influence than Abrams and company give it credit for?
Warning 2: major geekiness follows, of both the sci-fi and theology varieties.
You have been warned.
Well, it turns out that they're all right, in their own way. The effects are incredible, if somewhat overbearing. And there are lots of references not only to other Star Trek stories, but to other movies, as well. A fight scene near the end makes one think of the Mustafar battle between Obi-wan and Anakin in Star Wars episode III. A scene near the beginning where "John Harrison" wipes out many of Starfleet's top officers seems very similar to a scene in Godfather III. I kept waiting for an admiral to protest leaving his lucky coat.
I think this latter aspect of the movie says a lot about the cultural moment we find ourselves in, where we're obsessed with irony and seem to award cool-points for one's ability to make as many clever pop culture references as possible. Family Guy and the Scary Movie franchise are prime examples.
The frequent references to other Trek stories struck some as lazy storytelling. After all, the JJ Abrams reboot found the best of both worlds, blending the established universe and characters with a clean slate/alternate reality thanks to some time traveling Romulans. The photo above appeared in the very first trailers, and I figured that's as far as the reference to the final scene in Wrath of Kahn would go. It turns out I was wrong.
Why not take advantage of the clean slate? Why not introduce new characters and new stories? After all, the alternate timeline leaves them un-beholden to the Trek cannon. Why tempt fate by risking the new Kahn not measuring up to Ricardo Montalban? (no worries there- Benedict Cumberbatch owns it)
We don't know if the filmmakers are making any kind of explicitly theological or philosophical statement. Probably not, as JJ Abrams has said he initially preferred Star Wars over Star Trek because the latter was "too philisophical". Nevertheless, he has created shows like Lost that have all sorts of latent theology, whether intended or not.
But, narrative choices aside, simply looking at all the similarities between the "old" timeline and the "new" raises questions of theological anthropology: how we understand humanity overall and individual personhood in relationship to the divine.
The similarities between Into Darkness and Wrath of Kahn go far beyond the presence of the titular character. A core idea explicitly stated by Spock in both movies is that "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few", both spoken at times when he was prepared to sacrifice himself for the good of a larger group.
Both films feature a main character entering a lethal radiation zone to fix a mechanical problem that would allow the ship to warp out of danger, saving the crew, but killing the person in the process. In Darkness, Kirk even tells Spock that his self sacrifice is "what you would have done".
Both death scenes feature a conversation between Kirk and Spock through the glass, the person on the outside having to be held back from trying to rescue their friend (again, see the photo above). And, of course, both characters are resurrected sooner or later so the adventures can continue.
Again, putting aside the question of what the screen writers were thinking, how is it that such similar things would happen in two different timelines? The alternate realities were created by time travelers who altered Kirk's life in a major way by ensuring that he grew up without a father. The butterfly effect resulted in Kirk and Spock meeting and forming their friendship under extremely different circumstances.
From these differences, one might conclude that such formative events might have led Kirk to become a fundamentally different person, one with whom Spock would have never developed a friendship. In fact, the first movie heavily suggests that their friendship would never have happened if not for the intervention of Spock Prime (the Spock from the original timeline who ends up in the alternate). But neither of these conclusions turns out to be right.
So clearly, there is the latent idea in the story that one's circumstances only have a superficial influence on who one is at the core of their being- that there is some kind of fundamental created personhood that cannot be undone no matter what happens to us. In other words, nature is more powerful than nurture.
The Arminian aspect of my theological heritage doesn't like the implications here. If Kirk and Spock are fundamentally wired to be a certain way, are they really free to choose these actions that come from their gut? Is their choice to sacrifice themselves to save others really heroic if it's not really a choice?
Then again, there is something appealing about a story where nature trumps nurture. The fundamental goodness in each of these characters, particularly the way they make one another better, can't be changed by those external circumstances. Perhaps that says something about the perseverance of grace in the face of all obstacles.
That would, of course, also suggest that Khan was going to be evil no matter what. But he's genetically engineered to be a megalomaniac, so perhaps the bad hands he's dealt in each respective timeline override the fleeting glimpses of altruism and genuine human emotion he displays at certain moments.
So, do you agree with the theological anthropology inherent in Into Darkness? Are we who we were created to be, regardless of things that happen to us that are out of our control? Or does nurture have a much bigger influence than Abrams and company give it credit for?
Thursday, May 02, 2013
Thoughts on the National Day of Prayer
Today, May 2, is designated as the National Day of Prayer and has been officially observed every year since 1952. There are massive public prayer gatherings all over the nation today, which is great.
Two thoughts as I ponder this day and what it says about our culture:
1. Participate in these gatherings for the right reasons, not just to make a show. Matthew Paul Turner put it perfectly, borrowing the form of Matthew 6:5-6:
And when you pray on National Day of Prayer, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to post about their praying on Facebook and Twitter and take pictures of themselves kneeling beside flags and in groups so they can be seen by others on Instagram. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen.
2. Let your prayer motivate you to action. If you attend a downtown prayer rally but ignore half a dozen homeless people as you walk back to your car, then you've wasted your time. Let your prayer open your heart to see the person at your job or in your school who is lonely and excluded. As the apostle James wrote (James 2:14-17), your faith isn't alive unless it leads you to action.
Two thoughts as I ponder this day and what it says about our culture:
1. Participate in these gatherings for the right reasons, not just to make a show. Matthew Paul Turner put it perfectly, borrowing the form of Matthew 6:5-6:
And when you pray on National Day of Prayer, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to post about their praying on Facebook and Twitter and take pictures of themselves kneeling beside flags and in groups so they can be seen by others on Instagram. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen.
2. Let your prayer motivate you to action. If you attend a downtown prayer rally but ignore half a dozen homeless people as you walk back to your car, then you've wasted your time. Let your prayer open your heart to see the person at your job or in your school who is lonely and excluded. As the apostle James wrote (James 2:14-17), your faith isn't alive unless it leads you to action.
Monday, April 22, 2013
Terror and Resurrection
After wrestling all week to even mention the Boston Marathon bombing in my sermon on Sunday(thinking it might be good to have one hour where we didn't hear about all the bad news in the world), the intense media coverage surrounding the manhunt on Friday made me decide to address the problem of suffering and evil.
We had already planned on reading Acts 9:1-20, which tells of Saul's conversion from early church antagonist to apostle. We reflected on how there are no good answers to the problems of evil and suffering, but how followers of Jesus respond by telling the story of the God who loved us enough to enter into our suffering and redeem it by coming out on the other side.
You can listen to the audio here or on our church website, download it from sermon.net, or subscribe in iTunes. If you're not into podcasts, a transcript is below. Comments and discussion are always welcome, but keep it on topic and respectful.
Since we last gathered here to worship, a lot has happened. On Monday we saw a couple of homemade bombs transform the finish line of the Boston Marathon go from a place of victory and celebration to a place of fear and pain. On Wednesday an ammonia plant in West, Texas exploded, leveling houses and registering as a small earthquake on the richter scale. Then on Friday, we watched a massive manhunt shut down the greater Boston area as it all played out in real time on our TV screens. By the end of that very confusing day, one of the suspected bombers was dead, the other captured but barely alive after battles with police that seemed more like a movie than real life.
The events of this past week would have been hard enough by themselves, but the psychological scars from Newtown and the political football it became are still with us. We only have to say the names of places like Aurora, Tucson, Columbine, or the World Trade Center and instantly we recall many other images of horrific, senseless violence. We watch these things and we get overwhelmed. We wonder aloud, “what is going on in the world? Am I safe anywhere? Is my family safe anywhere?” Or we simply ask, “why?”
“Why?” Why, God, why? Where is God in all this? It doesn’t make sense. If God is good and just, and if God is all powerful, why do these things continue to happen? This awful tension between our basic claims about who God is and the reality of evil and suffering in the world are, for many people, the single biggest obstacle to faith. We in the church don’t help the situation when we give cheap answers to try and make this tension go away. We might try to paper it over with a quaint moral lesson as if that would somehow justify the death of innocent people. “Well, this was God’s way of bringing us together.” Or some preacher climbs into the pulpit or gets in front of a TV camera and says, “God allowed this to happen because of this particular person or group I don’t happen to like.”
In that spirit, I’d like to announce that God has allowed all the violence this week because the Louisville Cardinals won the NCAA basketball tournament. It makes about as much sense as blaming earthquakes on gay marriage. If Pat Robertson can do it, so can I.
Friends, the truth is that there is no way of making this tension go away. All of our attempts fall intellectually flat at best and at worst pervert and blaspheme the name of Jesus Christ. We can engage in some theological conversation about free will and God’s conscious self limitation, and that can help us gain some perspective, but at the end of the day that tension remains with us. So instead of trying to find a quick fix, an easy answer that will make it all go away, we’re better served by seeking ways to faithfully navigate this tension. We’ll let God do the solving and simply ask how do we faithfully live with and respond to the reality of evil and suffering in our world?
Jesus frequently responded to hard theological questions by telling a story, and that’s what the Bible does for us today. A while back we had decided to read Acts chapter 9 today, and here we find quite a story. Acts tells us how the church got its start, and how, much like their rabbi, Jesus, they had a talent for making people mad. One of their chief antagonists is a guy named Saul. Saul is every mother’s dream. He’s a nice boy who never missed church, he graduated at the top of his class in seminary and he’s among the most respected scholars of the Torah at a very young age.
The thing about Saul is, though, that he’s so passionate about his faith, that passion blinds him. He’s vulnerable to having that passion twisted by some very bad influences, and that’s exactly what happens. The high priest and others in the religious establishment encourage him to be passionate about a very rigid form of religious orthodoxy. His passion for that orthodoxy is so great that people who don’t conform to it aren’t simply misguided sinners, they’re evil. They should die.
So there’s this new group of heretics out there- a cult, really. They follow this uneducated rabbi who left his small, hick town, came to the big city of Jerusalem and managed to get himself killed. Served him right- he was leading people down the wrong path. But even after he died, his movement kept going, in fact it was gaining steam. Saul sees this Jesus movement, known as “The Way”, practically spitting on the Torah and the teachings of the elders. It’s such a threat to the true faith that, like their rabbi, these people deserved to die. That’s Saul’s thinking, and that suits the High Priest and the Sanhedrin just fine.
So here we find Saul “spewing out murderous threats against the Lord’s disciples”. He’s arrested people and even gotten some mobs together to stone a few of them to death. Followers of The Way know who Saul is and they’re afraid of him. Another way to say that is they’re terrified of him. Saul is a fanatic religious terrorist.
Saul the terrorist is taking his campaign on the road, heading up to Damascus with the men and the means to commit more acts of terror, and out of nowhere, Jesus shows up. Now, this is a little strange because given how Saul has been acting up to this point, the only thing Jesus should be doing is coming down to smite this guy. “You messed with the wrong disciples- now everyone will know who the Son of God is!” But God has this weird way of confounding our expectations and showing us just how powerful he is, not through destroying, but through making something brand new.
Saul is riding along, plotting his next act of terror, and without warning there is a light from heaven so powerful it knocks him off his horse and blinds him. Saul the terrorist is all of a sudden lying on the ground, suddenly very afraid, and he hears a voice. “Saul, you think you are doing my work, but you’re actually persecuting me. You think you are powerful because you can kill and destroy. I’m about to show you what real power is.”
In one blinding moment, he goes from being powerful and in charge to powerless, being led by the hand because he can’t see. The one who brings him healing is the very target of his campaign of terror, a disciple named Annanias. When God tells Annanias to go find Saul and help him, he says, “um, Lord, have you not heard about this guy? He’s my enemy, he’s your enemy. And now you’ve put him out of business. Nice work, Lord!”
God says, “no. Any thug can kill and destroy. Acts of terror don’t make you powerful. I’m going to use Saul to do incredible things, and you’re all going to learn what real power is when you see me make your enemy into your friend.”
God is not in the revenge business. God does not respond to real or perceived slights with acts of divine terror. God does not fight fire with fire. God is not discovered at the root cause of violence and suffering and death. God is the one who comes right into the middle of violence and suffering and death and redeems it by proclaiming that it does not have the last word. Its effects, as terrible as they are, are temporary. God has claimed the last word and that word is: Resurrection.
At the heart of the Christian faith is the cross. It’s the ultimate instrument of pain and suffering, of humiliation and isolation. To the people of the first century Roman world, the very mention of a cross brought terror. Jesus takes the very worst we have, suffers and dies on the cross, then rises again, undoing the ultimate effects of suffering and violence, breaking the power of death once and for all.
So when the reality of a fallen, brutal world gets shoved in our face as it did this week and, I’m sorry to say, will happen again, we don’t respond by blaming the victim or trying to make the tension go away with some cheap excuse. We respond by telling the story of the God who loved us enough to enter into our suffering and emerging on the other side, not unscathed, but victorious. In the face of terror that claims to have the final word, we witness to God’s claim on the final word. That word is Resurrection. Life.
Saul the converted terrorist got a new name, a new identity: Paul. Many years later he wrote a letter to one of the many churches he planted all across the Mediterranean, in a place called Ephesus.
Paul wrote, “Christ is our peace. He made both Jews and Gentiles into one group. With his body, he broke down the barrier of hatred that divided us. He canceled the detailed rules of the Law so that he could create one new person out of the two groups, making peace. He reconciled them both as one body to God by the cross, which ended the hostility to God.” ~Ephesians 2:14-16
Hostilities will end. Violence and terror will end. Senseless suffering that causes existential crises and frustrated cries of “why, God, why?” will end. The noise of bombs and guns and sirens will fall silent, and all that will be heard is that one final word: Life. Eternal life.
Amen.
We had already planned on reading Acts 9:1-20, which tells of Saul's conversion from early church antagonist to apostle. We reflected on how there are no good answers to the problems of evil and suffering, but how followers of Jesus respond by telling the story of the God who loved us enough to enter into our suffering and redeem it by coming out on the other side.
You can listen to the audio here or on our church website, download it from sermon.net, or subscribe in iTunes. If you're not into podcasts, a transcript is below. Comments and discussion are always welcome, but keep it on topic and respectful.
Terror and Resurrection
Since we last gathered here to worship, a lot has happened. On Monday we saw a couple of homemade bombs transform the finish line of the Boston Marathon go from a place of victory and celebration to a place of fear and pain. On Wednesday an ammonia plant in West, Texas exploded, leveling houses and registering as a small earthquake on the richter scale. Then on Friday, we watched a massive manhunt shut down the greater Boston area as it all played out in real time on our TV screens. By the end of that very confusing day, one of the suspected bombers was dead, the other captured but barely alive after battles with police that seemed more like a movie than real life.
The events of this past week would have been hard enough by themselves, but the psychological scars from Newtown and the political football it became are still with us. We only have to say the names of places like Aurora, Tucson, Columbine, or the World Trade Center and instantly we recall many other images of horrific, senseless violence. We watch these things and we get overwhelmed. We wonder aloud, “what is going on in the world? Am I safe anywhere? Is my family safe anywhere?” Or we simply ask, “why?”
“Why?” Why, God, why? Where is God in all this? It doesn’t make sense. If God is good and just, and if God is all powerful, why do these things continue to happen? This awful tension between our basic claims about who God is and the reality of evil and suffering in the world are, for many people, the single biggest obstacle to faith. We in the church don’t help the situation when we give cheap answers to try and make this tension go away. We might try to paper it over with a quaint moral lesson as if that would somehow justify the death of innocent people. “Well, this was God’s way of bringing us together.” Or some preacher climbs into the pulpit or gets in front of a TV camera and says, “God allowed this to happen because of this particular person or group I don’t happen to like.”
In that spirit, I’d like to announce that God has allowed all the violence this week because the Louisville Cardinals won the NCAA basketball tournament. It makes about as much sense as blaming earthquakes on gay marriage. If Pat Robertson can do it, so can I.
Friends, the truth is that there is no way of making this tension go away. All of our attempts fall intellectually flat at best and at worst pervert and blaspheme the name of Jesus Christ. We can engage in some theological conversation about free will and God’s conscious self limitation, and that can help us gain some perspective, but at the end of the day that tension remains with us. So instead of trying to find a quick fix, an easy answer that will make it all go away, we’re better served by seeking ways to faithfully navigate this tension. We’ll let God do the solving and simply ask how do we faithfully live with and respond to the reality of evil and suffering in our world?
Jesus frequently responded to hard theological questions by telling a story, and that’s what the Bible does for us today. A while back we had decided to read Acts chapter 9 today, and here we find quite a story. Acts tells us how the church got its start, and how, much like their rabbi, Jesus, they had a talent for making people mad. One of their chief antagonists is a guy named Saul. Saul is every mother’s dream. He’s a nice boy who never missed church, he graduated at the top of his class in seminary and he’s among the most respected scholars of the Torah at a very young age.
The thing about Saul is, though, that he’s so passionate about his faith, that passion blinds him. He’s vulnerable to having that passion twisted by some very bad influences, and that’s exactly what happens. The high priest and others in the religious establishment encourage him to be passionate about a very rigid form of religious orthodoxy. His passion for that orthodoxy is so great that people who don’t conform to it aren’t simply misguided sinners, they’re evil. They should die.
So there’s this new group of heretics out there- a cult, really. They follow this uneducated rabbi who left his small, hick town, came to the big city of Jerusalem and managed to get himself killed. Served him right- he was leading people down the wrong path. But even after he died, his movement kept going, in fact it was gaining steam. Saul sees this Jesus movement, known as “The Way”, practically spitting on the Torah and the teachings of the elders. It’s such a threat to the true faith that, like their rabbi, these people deserved to die. That’s Saul’s thinking, and that suits the High Priest and the Sanhedrin just fine.
So here we find Saul “spewing out murderous threats against the Lord’s disciples”. He’s arrested people and even gotten some mobs together to stone a few of them to death. Followers of The Way know who Saul is and they’re afraid of him. Another way to say that is they’re terrified of him. Saul is a fanatic religious terrorist.
Saul the terrorist is taking his campaign on the road, heading up to Damascus with the men and the means to commit more acts of terror, and out of nowhere, Jesus shows up. Now, this is a little strange because given how Saul has been acting up to this point, the only thing Jesus should be doing is coming down to smite this guy. “You messed with the wrong disciples- now everyone will know who the Son of God is!” But God has this weird way of confounding our expectations and showing us just how powerful he is, not through destroying, but through making something brand new.
Saul is riding along, plotting his next act of terror, and without warning there is a light from heaven so powerful it knocks him off his horse and blinds him. Saul the terrorist is all of a sudden lying on the ground, suddenly very afraid, and he hears a voice. “Saul, you think you are doing my work, but you’re actually persecuting me. You think you are powerful because you can kill and destroy. I’m about to show you what real power is.”
In one blinding moment, he goes from being powerful and in charge to powerless, being led by the hand because he can’t see. The one who brings him healing is the very target of his campaign of terror, a disciple named Annanias. When God tells Annanias to go find Saul and help him, he says, “um, Lord, have you not heard about this guy? He’s my enemy, he’s your enemy. And now you’ve put him out of business. Nice work, Lord!”
God says, “no. Any thug can kill and destroy. Acts of terror don’t make you powerful. I’m going to use Saul to do incredible things, and you’re all going to learn what real power is when you see me make your enemy into your friend.”
God is not in the revenge business. God does not respond to real or perceived slights with acts of divine terror. God does not fight fire with fire. God is not discovered at the root cause of violence and suffering and death. God is the one who comes right into the middle of violence and suffering and death and redeems it by proclaiming that it does not have the last word. Its effects, as terrible as they are, are temporary. God has claimed the last word and that word is: Resurrection.
At the heart of the Christian faith is the cross. It’s the ultimate instrument of pain and suffering, of humiliation and isolation. To the people of the first century Roman world, the very mention of a cross brought terror. Jesus takes the very worst we have, suffers and dies on the cross, then rises again, undoing the ultimate effects of suffering and violence, breaking the power of death once and for all.
So when the reality of a fallen, brutal world gets shoved in our face as it did this week and, I’m sorry to say, will happen again, we don’t respond by blaming the victim or trying to make the tension go away with some cheap excuse. We respond by telling the story of the God who loved us enough to enter into our suffering and emerging on the other side, not unscathed, but victorious. In the face of terror that claims to have the final word, we witness to God’s claim on the final word. That word is Resurrection. Life.
Saul the converted terrorist got a new name, a new identity: Paul. Many years later he wrote a letter to one of the many churches he planted all across the Mediterranean, in a place called Ephesus.
Paul wrote, “Christ is our peace. He made both Jews and Gentiles into one group. With his body, he broke down the barrier of hatred that divided us. He canceled the detailed rules of the Law so that he could create one new person out of the two groups, making peace. He reconciled them both as one body to God by the cross, which ended the hostility to God.” ~Ephesians 2:14-16
Hostilities will end. Violence and terror will end. Senseless suffering that causes existential crises and frustrated cries of “why, God, why?” will end. The noise of bombs and guns and sirens will fall silent, and all that will be heard is that one final word: Life. Eternal life.
Amen.
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