Today's Daily Lesson is from Mother Emanuel Church in Charleston, South Carolina:
We are in Charleston and last night Gabrielle and I went to the Wednesday night Bible study at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church, where just over a year ago nine church members were murdered in the sanctuary. The 22-year-old white person soon to be on trial for the murders admitted to the act and said he was intending to set off a race war with the killings. Instead, the country was inspired by the words of forgiveness which some of the victims' family members spoke to the defendant in an initial hearing. "Mother Emanuel" then became a symbol of hope and healing for our nation.
"Mother Emanuel" has been the mother church of the black community here in Charleston since 1804, when the church was founded for colored persons both slave and free. In 1822, the church was burned when one of its members, Denmark Vessey, was implicated in a slave revolt. In 1834 the state of South Carolina outlawed all black houses of worship, out of fear that the black church was becoming a site of resistance and organization amongst black slaves. Blacks in Charleston continued to meet underground in Charleston until the end of the Civil War. In 1865, the church came out of hiding and built the church which stands today just off Meeting Street, right down from Charleston's central square and the old slave auction house. The was when the church took on its name -- "Emanuel", meaning "God is with us".
I am a bit anxious walking into the church. I do not know what to expect and wonder if I will be welcomed. I also feel a little anxious, wondering if the church could be targeted again. I feel a degree of relief when I see police officer sitting in his car in the parking lot. As Gabrielle and I enter the church into the fellowship hall we are greeted with a broad smile by one of the members. "Welcome," the man says. "Here for the Bible study?" I nod and he leads us into the hall where there is a winding and worn staircase which leads into the sanctuary. "Welcome," another man says as we open the door to see both children and adults seated together. Tonight's Bible Study is a bit different and will be a bit chaotic as the half-dozen church members are joined by another half-dozen white visitors and tourists along with about 50 young children who are in Vacation Bible School. I feel right at home.
We gather near the back of the sanctuary while the children convene us with the Pledge to the Christian Flag, Pledge to the Bible, and Pledge to the Flag of the United States. As we stand together with our hands over our hearts in the sanctuary where the nine lives were taken, I am especially struck by the words to the Pledge to the Christian Flag:
“I pledge allegiance to the Christian Flag and to the Savior for whose Kingdom it stands. One Savior, crucified, risen, and coming again with life and liberty to all who believe. Amen.”
After the pledges, we sit for the rest of the VBS convocation as a firm and funny woman reminds the children of what they are studying this week: Joseph, the man sold into slavery whose grace and magnanimity towards his brothers stands today a sign of hope and reconciliation the world over. After the children depart for their downstairs study and crafts, we are left with a friendly and soft spoken layman named Keith, a City of Charleston police officer and the husband of the firm and funny woman who is leading the kids. Keith tells us we will be studying Joseph also.
We stretch across 4 or 5 rows of the old and beautiful dark oak pews and open the Word together. Visitors mostly pull out iPhones or use the pew Bibles, while the members open the covers of well-worn and marked personal Bibles. Keith leads us in our study and discussion and notes how long it is into the Joseph story before God's name is ever mentioned. Keith asks us why that is and one African American woman in an African-print skirt and top speaks up. "God was there. God is always there. Even when God is silent, God is there," she says. I think again to the meaning of the church's name: Emanuel, "God is with us".
As we continue to talk about the story women from the Altar Guild come and begin to dress the altar in preparation for Communion this coming Sunday. As they lay and neatly spread a white cloth over the table my mind goes back to the Pledge: "One Savior, crucified, risen". I am here because He was crucified here yet again; and I am here because he rose here yet again also. I am here because they put him in a hole in the ground just like they put Joseph in a hole; and yet the hole could not contain him just like the hole could not contain Joseph -- neither the literal hole nor the hole of bitterness and anger. One Savior, crucified, risen, coming again -- here in this sanctuary.
After the study Keith invites us to a Love Feast downstairs. As we make our transition I take the opportunity to thank and speak with Keith. "Your church is a witness for our nation," I tell him. "We've always had that spirit," he says, "and we're not going to let one person take it away. In fact, we have to pray for him also."
As we make our way back down the stairs into the fellowship hall we enter where the children have been being taught. "Tell me about the Love Feast," I ask Keith. "This is a meal of spiritual preparation. Sunday we will take Communion and beforehand we take the Love Feast, a little bread and some water, which we take to ready and cleanse us in case we have any bitterness in our hearts towards anyone. We take the meal and then pass the peace."
The Word has now been studied, the altar dressed, the meal partaken, the peace passed. "He is crucified, rise, and coming again with life and liberty to all who believe."
Tonight I believe. "Emanuel" -- even in this place, in this sanctuary. I believe, and this church helps me in my unbelief. Emanuel, God is with us.
Thursday, June 30, 2016
Wednesday, June 29, 2016
Daily Lesson for June 29, 2016
Today's Daily Lesson comes from Romans chapter 7 verses 13 through 24:
13 Did that which is good, then, bring death to me? By no means! It was sin, producing death in me through what is good, in order that sin might be shown to be sin, and through the commandment might become sinful beyond measure. 14 For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin. 15 For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. 16 Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. 17 So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. 18 For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. 19 For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. 20 Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. 21 So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. 22 For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, 23 but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. 24 Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?
Now here's a man willing to come clean! Paul is what they call in AA a person of "rigorous honesty". In other words, he has done the hard work of telling the truth about himself, and the truth is he is a lot less good than he and others once thought he was.
It cannot be overestimated how difficult this sobering truth must have been for a Pharisee like Paul to swallow. For a person habitually conditioned to think of himself and his people as agents of God's righteousness to then behold the truth in the prophet Isaiah's words that even their "righteous deeds are like filthy rags" is to look into a moral mirror and suddenly see it shattered. The whole concept of self and race and nation is fractured.
Reinhold Niebuhr called this realization the "final enigma of history". In this enigma unraveled, humanity discovers "not how the righteous will gain victory over the unrighteous, but how the evil in every good and the unrighteousness of the righteous is to be overcome."
Such an enigma is hard, impossible even, to solve. Righteous indignation fights against it. This is the reason it took 150 years for the Southern Baptist Convention to apologize for slavery and (just two weeks ago) call for furling up the Confederate Battle Flag. It took that long to see. I hope it's not another 150 years for my own Cooperative Baptist Fellowship to see its own injustice towards the LGBTQ community. But the unrighteous of the righteous is the hardest thing in the world to see. It's the log in our own eye.
Paul says, "What I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do." What we want to do is be good people. I want to be a good man. But the irony is that in becoming good we discover the truth of Jesus' words, that in fact, "No one is good but God alone."
That's a sobering look in the mirror. And it's also a necessary one, if we wish to be saved.
13 Did that which is good, then, bring death to me? By no means! It was sin, producing death in me through what is good, in order that sin might be shown to be sin, and through the commandment might become sinful beyond measure. 14 For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin. 15 For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. 16 Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. 17 So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. 18 For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. 19 For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. 20 Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. 21 So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. 22 For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, 23 but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. 24 Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?
Now here's a man willing to come clean! Paul is what they call in AA a person of "rigorous honesty". In other words, he has done the hard work of telling the truth about himself, and the truth is he is a lot less good than he and others once thought he was.
It cannot be overestimated how difficult this sobering truth must have been for a Pharisee like Paul to swallow. For a person habitually conditioned to think of himself and his people as agents of God's righteousness to then behold the truth in the prophet Isaiah's words that even their "righteous deeds are like filthy rags" is to look into a moral mirror and suddenly see it shattered. The whole concept of self and race and nation is fractured.
Reinhold Niebuhr called this realization the "final enigma of history". In this enigma unraveled, humanity discovers "not how the righteous will gain victory over the unrighteous, but how the evil in every good and the unrighteousness of the righteous is to be overcome."
Such an enigma is hard, impossible even, to solve. Righteous indignation fights against it. This is the reason it took 150 years for the Southern Baptist Convention to apologize for slavery and (just two weeks ago) call for furling up the Confederate Battle Flag. It took that long to see. I hope it's not another 150 years for my own Cooperative Baptist Fellowship to see its own injustice towards the LGBTQ community. But the unrighteous of the righteous is the hardest thing in the world to see. It's the log in our own eye.
Paul says, "What I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do." What we want to do is be good people. I want to be a good man. But the irony is that in becoming good we discover the truth of Jesus' words, that in fact, "No one is good but God alone."
That's a sobering look in the mirror. And it's also a necessary one, if we wish to be saved.
Tuesday, June 28, 2016
Daily Lesson for June 28, 2016
Today's Daily Lesson comes from Numbers chapter 22 verses 21 through 30:
21 So Balaam rose in the morning and saddled his donkey and went with the princes of Moab. 22 But God's anger was kindled because he went, and the angel of the Lord took his stand in the way as his adversary. Now he was riding on the donkey, and his two servants were with him. 23 And the donkey saw the angel of the Lord standing in the road, with a drawn sword in his hand. And the donkey turned aside out of the road and went into the field. And Balaam struck the donkey, to turn her into the road. 24 Then the angel of the Lord stood in a narrow path between the vineyards, with a wall on either side. 25 And when the donkey saw the angel of the Lord, she pushed against the wall and pressed Balaam's foot against the wall. So he struck her again. 26 Then the angel of the Lord went ahead and stood in a narrow place, where there was no way to turn either to the right or to the left. 27 When the donkey saw the angel of the Lord, she lay down under Balaam. And Balaam's anger was kindled, and he struck the donkey with his staff. 28 Then the Lord opened the mouth of the donkey, and she said to Balaam, “What have I done to you, that you have struck me these three times?” 29 And Balaam said to the donkey, “Because you have made a fool of me. I wish I had a sword in my hand, for then I would kill you.” 30 And the donkey said to Balaam, “Am I not your donkey, on which you have ridden all your life long to this day? Is it my habit to treat you this way?” And he said, “No.”
Here is the story of Balaam and his donkey, a story commonly referred to as the story of "Balaam's Ass", but which should be called "Balaam, the Horse's Ass" because that's what Balaam made out of himself.
Balaam knows where he is headed. He is intent to get there. And nothing is going to stop.
Nothing, that is, except life.
It turns out God has another plan; and no matter how hard Balaam tries to get that donkey of his down the path, the donkey (as we say in Texas) just ain't having it. He ain't having it because turns out the donkey knows more about the path than its rider.
I often quote Paula D'Arcy: "God comes to us disguised as our lives." I take that to mean that when the donkey we're riding refuses to take us down the path we want to go then maybe God is trying to tell us something. Maybe that's not the way after all; maybe it's the way to destruction. Maybe we ought to stop and turn around.
We assume we know the path where life should take us. But then I remember the little warning my elementary teachers gave about those who "assume": It makes an "ass" out of "u" and "me".
It sure did of Balaam.
But in the end that turned out to be a blessing really; because realizing that he was actually dumber than a jackass spared ol' Balaam from being deader than a doornail.
And that there is the wisdom of humiliation.
May those who have ears as big as a donkey's let them hear.
21 So Balaam rose in the morning and saddled his donkey and went with the princes of Moab. 22 But God's anger was kindled because he went, and the angel of the Lord took his stand in the way as his adversary. Now he was riding on the donkey, and his two servants were with him. 23 And the donkey saw the angel of the Lord standing in the road, with a drawn sword in his hand. And the donkey turned aside out of the road and went into the field. And Balaam struck the donkey, to turn her into the road. 24 Then the angel of the Lord stood in a narrow path between the vineyards, with a wall on either side. 25 And when the donkey saw the angel of the Lord, she pushed against the wall and pressed Balaam's foot against the wall. So he struck her again. 26 Then the angel of the Lord went ahead and stood in a narrow place, where there was no way to turn either to the right or to the left. 27 When the donkey saw the angel of the Lord, she lay down under Balaam. And Balaam's anger was kindled, and he struck the donkey with his staff. 28 Then the Lord opened the mouth of the donkey, and she said to Balaam, “What have I done to you, that you have struck me these three times?” 29 And Balaam said to the donkey, “Because you have made a fool of me. I wish I had a sword in my hand, for then I would kill you.” 30 And the donkey said to Balaam, “Am I not your donkey, on which you have ridden all your life long to this day? Is it my habit to treat you this way?” And he said, “No.”
Here is the story of Balaam and his donkey, a story commonly referred to as the story of "Balaam's Ass", but which should be called "Balaam, the Horse's Ass" because that's what Balaam made out of himself.
Balaam knows where he is headed. He is intent to get there. And nothing is going to stop.
Nothing, that is, except life.
It turns out God has another plan; and no matter how hard Balaam tries to get that donkey of his down the path, the donkey (as we say in Texas) just ain't having it. He ain't having it because turns out the donkey knows more about the path than its rider.
I often quote Paula D'Arcy: "God comes to us disguised as our lives." I take that to mean that when the donkey we're riding refuses to take us down the path we want to go then maybe God is trying to tell us something. Maybe that's not the way after all; maybe it's the way to destruction. Maybe we ought to stop and turn around.
We assume we know the path where life should take us. But then I remember the little warning my elementary teachers gave about those who "assume": It makes an "ass" out of "u" and "me".
It sure did of Balaam.
But in the end that turned out to be a blessing really; because realizing that he was actually dumber than a jackass spared ol' Balaam from being deader than a doornail.
And that there is the wisdom of humiliation.
May those who have ears as big as a donkey's let them hear.
Monday, June 27, 2016
Today's Daily Lesson for June 27, 2016
Today's Daily Lesson is an excerpt from Marilyn Robinson's novel Gilead:
It has seemed to me sometimes as though the Lord breathes on this poor gray ember of Creation and it turns to radiance - for a moment or a year or the span of a life. And then it sinks back into itself again, and to look at it no one would know it had anything to do with fire, or light .... Wherever you turn your eyes the world can shine like transfiguration. You don't have to bring a thing to it except a little willingness to see. Only, who could have the courage to see it? .... Theologians talk about a prevenient grace that precedes grace itself and allows us to accept it. I think there must also be a prevenient courage that allows us to be brave - that is, to acknowledge that there is more beauty than our eyes can bear, that precious things have been put into our hands and to do nothing to honor them is to do great harm.
Yesterday, Irie and the kids and I went back and worshipped in the little church where I was ordained and where Irie and I were married. Lowe's Grove Baptist Church can trace its beginning to 1890, when a Sunday School class was meeting on the front porch of a home in a little community just south of Durham, NC. That Sunday School and another church joined together and the church was officially organized in 1907. The building we were married, a quaint, partially-Georgia-style construction was built in 1947. Though for most of its life Lowe's Grove has been mostly a quiet, family church, it has at times been a place for the compelling. In 1981, it was one of the very first Southern Baptist Churches to ordain a woman to the Gospel Ministry. Irie and I the very same week that three crosses were burned by the KKK in downtown Durham, our fully integrated wedding a sign of hope and reconciliation amidst a time of strife and division within the city.
The Church has been without a pastor now for a couple of years and as often happens in times between pastorates the congregation has dwindled some. It was mostly an older group gathered yesterday for Sunday morning, though the church was excitedly planning for Vacation Bible School which began last night. I know they were wondering how many would come and how many would stay and what kind of future there is for a church like Lowe's Grove.
As I stood in the pulpit where I preached my very first sermon 13 years ago this coming fall, I read the excerpt from Marilyn Robinson's novel. It is the words from an old, old preacher in a little church in a little community, writing to his young son, who he had brought forth into the world at a great age. In a sense, it is Robinson's way of having the patriarchs, that "great cloud of witnesses", spoken of in the book of Hebrews, to write to this current, struggling generation of Christians trying now to hold on to the faith of our fathers and mothers. And the message is for this current generation to hold its hope and to remember that God's kingdom is among us, if we have eyes to see.
Sometimes God does breath upon this "poor gray ember of Creation" and for a moment something amazing happens -- a sleepy little Baptist church does something bold and lays its hands on the head of a woman called to preach, or rises as a sign of racial harmony amidst a world of division. God breathes for a time there is fire and there is light and he Church knows that it is alive, but then it sinks into itself again, and no one would ever know who did not themselves remember.
And so that was my message for the people of Lowe's Grove yesterday, to remember, to hold onto the memory of when God moved and breathed, and to hold onto the hope that God shall surely do it again -- in His own good time.
God bless you Lowe's Grove Baptist Church. God bless and keep you and make His face to shine upon you . . .
It has seemed to me sometimes as though the Lord breathes on this poor gray ember of Creation and it turns to radiance - for a moment or a year or the span of a life. And then it sinks back into itself again, and to look at it no one would know it had anything to do with fire, or light .... Wherever you turn your eyes the world can shine like transfiguration. You don't have to bring a thing to it except a little willingness to see. Only, who could have the courage to see it? .... Theologians talk about a prevenient grace that precedes grace itself and allows us to accept it. I think there must also be a prevenient courage that allows us to be brave - that is, to acknowledge that there is more beauty than our eyes can bear, that precious things have been put into our hands and to do nothing to honor them is to do great harm.
Yesterday, Irie and the kids and I went back and worshipped in the little church where I was ordained and where Irie and I were married. Lowe's Grove Baptist Church can trace its beginning to 1890, when a Sunday School class was meeting on the front porch of a home in a little community just south of Durham, NC. That Sunday School and another church joined together and the church was officially organized in 1907. The building we were married, a quaint, partially-Georgia-style construction was built in 1947. Though for most of its life Lowe's Grove has been mostly a quiet, family church, it has at times been a place for the compelling. In 1981, it was one of the very first Southern Baptist Churches to ordain a woman to the Gospel Ministry. Irie and I the very same week that three crosses were burned by the KKK in downtown Durham, our fully integrated wedding a sign of hope and reconciliation amidst a time of strife and division within the city.
The Church has been without a pastor now for a couple of years and as often happens in times between pastorates the congregation has dwindled some. It was mostly an older group gathered yesterday for Sunday morning, though the church was excitedly planning for Vacation Bible School which began last night. I know they were wondering how many would come and how many would stay and what kind of future there is for a church like Lowe's Grove.
As I stood in the pulpit where I preached my very first sermon 13 years ago this coming fall, I read the excerpt from Marilyn Robinson's novel. It is the words from an old, old preacher in a little church in a little community, writing to his young son, who he had brought forth into the world at a great age. In a sense, it is Robinson's way of having the patriarchs, that "great cloud of witnesses", spoken of in the book of Hebrews, to write to this current, struggling generation of Christians trying now to hold on to the faith of our fathers and mothers. And the message is for this current generation to hold its hope and to remember that God's kingdom is among us, if we have eyes to see.
Sometimes God does breath upon this "poor gray ember of Creation" and for a moment something amazing happens -- a sleepy little Baptist church does something bold and lays its hands on the head of a woman called to preach, or rises as a sign of racial harmony amidst a world of division. God breathes for a time there is fire and there is light and he Church knows that it is alive, but then it sinks into itself again, and no one would ever know who did not themselves remember.
And so that was my message for the people of Lowe's Grove yesterday, to remember, to hold onto the memory of when God moved and breathed, and to hold onto the hope that God shall surely do it again -- in His own good time.
God bless you Lowe's Grove Baptist Church. God bless and keep you and make His face to shine upon you . . .
Friday, June 24, 2016
Daily Lesson for June 24, 2016
Today's Daily Lesson comes from Numbers chapter 20 verses 2 through 9:
2 Now there was no water for the congregation. And they assembled themselves together against Moses and against Aaron. 3 And the people quarreled with Moses and said, “Would that we had perished when our brothers perished before the Lord! 4 Why have you brought the assembly of the Lord into this wilderness, that we should die here, both we and our cattle? 5 And why have you made us come up out of Egypt to bring us to this evil place? It is no place for grain or figs or vines or pomegranates, and there is no water to drink.” 6 Then Moses and Aaron went from the presence of the assembly to the entrance of the tent of meeting and fell on their faces. And the glory of the Lord appeared to them, 7 and the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, 8 “Take the staff, and assemble the congregation, you and Aaron your brother, and tell the rock before their eyes to yield its water. So you shall bring water out of the rock for them and give drink to the congregation and their cattle.” 9 And Moses took the staff from before the Lord, as he commanded him.
I am at the Annual Gathering of the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship celebrating the 25th anniversary of CBF's founding. In 1991, this new Baptist movement began, dedicating itself to the freedom of the local church and its membership to practice freely without threat of disfellowship over issues of gender or doctrine.
Last night religion scholar Diana Butler Bass spoke to us and made an interesting and also painfully sobering observation. She noted that in 1991, just as we were beginning, there is no way we could have known that the next 25 years would see the most precipitous decline in membership and affiliation in organized religious life in 200 years. We could not have known how shallow our resources would be and how difficult that would make to equip missionaries, support churches, and help educate clergy. She said, in fact, that 1991 was about the worst time in history anyone could have picked to begin a movement.
I listened to that last night and then get up this morning and read today's Daily Lesson. The Israelites are in their exodus and have escaped Egypt; they are bent on freedom. But then just as soon as they cross the Red Sea the resources run dry. There is not enough food or enough water. The people bicker and complain and some blame Moses. "You see," they say, "it was better in Egypt." And someone maybe says that this is the worst time in history they could have begun their movement. Some want to turn back; others are tempted to despair and die right there in the wilderness; most just don't know what to do.
But then Moses is told to look within, to look deep, to look deep into the hidden earth where it shall be discovered that there is resource and provision, water that God locked into the rock millennia ago -- for just such a time as this.
God does not leave those bent for freedom thirsty and dying in the wilderness. The LORD provides -- rams in bushes and water from rock. God meets us in our wilderness.
And then we discover something -- two truths about the Exodus. And the truths are these: 1) that even the absolute worst time in history for beginning a movement towards freedom is better than not beginning at all and 2) though at times the Promised Land does not look very promising their are resources hidden deep within us which will sustain and guide us along the way.
Thanks be to God!
2 Now there was no water for the congregation. And they assembled themselves together against Moses and against Aaron. 3 And the people quarreled with Moses and said, “Would that we had perished when our brothers perished before the Lord! 4 Why have you brought the assembly of the Lord into this wilderness, that we should die here, both we and our cattle? 5 And why have you made us come up out of Egypt to bring us to this evil place? It is no place for grain or figs or vines or pomegranates, and there is no water to drink.” 6 Then Moses and Aaron went from the presence of the assembly to the entrance of the tent of meeting and fell on their faces. And the glory of the Lord appeared to them, 7 and the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, 8 “Take the staff, and assemble the congregation, you and Aaron your brother, and tell the rock before their eyes to yield its water. So you shall bring water out of the rock for them and give drink to the congregation and their cattle.” 9 And Moses took the staff from before the Lord, as he commanded him.
I am at the Annual Gathering of the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship celebrating the 25th anniversary of CBF's founding. In 1991, this new Baptist movement began, dedicating itself to the freedom of the local church and its membership to practice freely without threat of disfellowship over issues of gender or doctrine.
Last night religion scholar Diana Butler Bass spoke to us and made an interesting and also painfully sobering observation. She noted that in 1991, just as we were beginning, there is no way we could have known that the next 25 years would see the most precipitous decline in membership and affiliation in organized religious life in 200 years. We could not have known how shallow our resources would be and how difficult that would make to equip missionaries, support churches, and help educate clergy. She said, in fact, that 1991 was about the worst time in history anyone could have picked to begin a movement.
I listened to that last night and then get up this morning and read today's Daily Lesson. The Israelites are in their exodus and have escaped Egypt; they are bent on freedom. But then just as soon as they cross the Red Sea the resources run dry. There is not enough food or enough water. The people bicker and complain and some blame Moses. "You see," they say, "it was better in Egypt." And someone maybe says that this is the worst time in history they could have begun their movement. Some want to turn back; others are tempted to despair and die right there in the wilderness; most just don't know what to do.
But then Moses is told to look within, to look deep, to look deep into the hidden earth where it shall be discovered that there is resource and provision, water that God locked into the rock millennia ago -- for just such a time as this.
God does not leave those bent for freedom thirsty and dying in the wilderness. The LORD provides -- rams in bushes and water from rock. God meets us in our wilderness.
And then we discover something -- two truths about the Exodus. And the truths are these: 1) that even the absolute worst time in history for beginning a movement towards freedom is better than not beginning at all and 2) though at times the Promised Land does not look very promising their are resources hidden deep within us which will sustain and guide us along the way.
Thanks be to God!
Thursday, June 23, 2016
Daily Lesson for June 23, 2016
Today's Daily Lesson comes from Psalm 105 verses 12 through 15:
When they were few in number,
of little account, and sojourners,
13 wandering from nation to nation,
from one kingdom to another people,
14 he allowed no one to oppress them;
he rebuked kings on their account,
15 saying, “Touch not my anointed ones,
do my prophets no harm!”
And from Romans Chapter 5 verses 3 and 4:
3 Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not put us to shame.
Maya Angelou once wrote a book titled after a line in an old spiritual: "Wouldn't Take Nothing for My Journey Now". What I take her to mean is that though she endured much hardship and struggle along her path, these were the things that made her who she was. As the Romans lesson speaks today, it was Maya's struggle that gave Maya her sense of endurance and character and, ultimately, her hope.
Note the order of that. Hope is last -- the result of an enduring struggle. That means it is different from optimism. Optimism is a favorable outlook based on what we can see. I am optimistic that the sun will shine today. But hope is something stronger. Hope is what we have left when the sun has refused to shine. Hope is still believing in the light, though it has been very dark for a very long time.
One of the most fascinating aspects coming out of research on this thing called Hope is that it can be learned and taught. Researcher C.R. Snyder studied hopeful people and discovered that hope is different from our feelings -- which we don't necessarily have much control over -- but is in fact a kind of mental process or thought framework. In short, hopefulness is a way of thinking about our world, ourselves, and our God. The resilient among us -- those who have endured setbacks and traumas of many kinds --are those who have learned to see themselves as more than passive victims of whatever the days have brought, but have instead learned to think hopefully. In other words, they've learned to think of the world as a place where right will ultimately prevail, to think of themselves as active agents of that goodness, and of God as the one who always tips the scales in favor of that goodness.
This kind of hopeful thinking can and is actually taught and passed down, in hopeful churches and synagogues, and in the words of hopeful people like Maya Angelou.
We wouldn't take nothing for our journey now -- because we know it's the journey that has taught us to think hopefully; and its our hopefulness that will teach others also.
When they were few in number,
of little account, and sojourners,
13 wandering from nation to nation,
from one kingdom to another people,
14 he allowed no one to oppress them;
he rebuked kings on their account,
15 saying, “Touch not my anointed ones,
do my prophets no harm!”
And from Romans Chapter 5 verses 3 and 4:
3 Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not put us to shame.
Maya Angelou once wrote a book titled after a line in an old spiritual: "Wouldn't Take Nothing for My Journey Now". What I take her to mean is that though she endured much hardship and struggle along her path, these were the things that made her who she was. As the Romans lesson speaks today, it was Maya's struggle that gave Maya her sense of endurance and character and, ultimately, her hope.
Note the order of that. Hope is last -- the result of an enduring struggle. That means it is different from optimism. Optimism is a favorable outlook based on what we can see. I am optimistic that the sun will shine today. But hope is something stronger. Hope is what we have left when the sun has refused to shine. Hope is still believing in the light, though it has been very dark for a very long time.
One of the most fascinating aspects coming out of research on this thing called Hope is that it can be learned and taught. Researcher C.R. Snyder studied hopeful people and discovered that hope is different from our feelings -- which we don't necessarily have much control over -- but is in fact a kind of mental process or thought framework. In short, hopefulness is a way of thinking about our world, ourselves, and our God. The resilient among us -- those who have endured setbacks and traumas of many kinds --are those who have learned to see themselves as more than passive victims of whatever the days have brought, but have instead learned to think hopefully. In other words, they've learned to think of the world as a place where right will ultimately prevail, to think of themselves as active agents of that goodness, and of God as the one who always tips the scales in favor of that goodness.
This kind of hopeful thinking can and is actually taught and passed down, in hopeful churches and synagogues, and in the words of hopeful people like Maya Angelou.
We wouldn't take nothing for our journey now -- because we know it's the journey that has taught us to think hopefully; and its our hopefulness that will teach others also.
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
Daily Lesson for June 21, 2016
I am taking a break from writing, but please enjoy again this Daily Lesson:
Today's Daily Lesson comes from Joshua chapter 4 verses 1 through 7:
When all the nation had finished passing over the Jordan, the Lord said to Joshua, 2 “Take twelve men from the people, from each tribe a man, 3 and command them, saying, ‘Take twelve stones from here out of the midst of the Jordan, from the very place where the priests' feet stood firmly, and bring them over with you and lay them down in the place where you lodge tonight.’” 4 Then Joshua called the twelve men from the people of Israel, whom he had appointed, a man from each tribe. 5 And Joshua said to them, “Pass on before the ark of the Lord your God into the midst of the Jordan, and take up each of you a stone upon his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the people of Israel, 6 that this may be a sign among you. When your children ask in time to come, ‘What do those stones mean to you?’ 7 then you shall tell them that the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the Lord. When it passed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. So these stones shall be to the people of Israel a memorial forever.”
Every nation needs a memorial to remember its founding and other momentous events and people in its history. Pierre L'Enfant, the architect of the National Mall in Washington, DC knew this. As early as 1791 he was imagining a grand space where the new United States of America's government buildings, museums, and national memorials could stand in a monumental and dignified way. L'Enfant knew memorials would need to be built in order for the people to remember their and know itself as a nation.
Families need memorials too. For centuries most people were so poor, the only memorial most families could afford was the Family Bible, and I remember Willie Nelson's "Family Bible" say the same thing I'm trying to say this morning:
There's a family Bible on the table
Its pages worn and hard to read
But the family Bible on the table
Will ever be my key to memories
There's a Family Bible from Irie's side in our family. On my side there's an old pump organ that my uncle has that the Seay side of our family brought all the way from Gainesville to West Texas in covered wagon around 1900. In our house there is a watercolor of Gettysburg a friend in Vermont painted and gave to us. The viewpoint is a densely wooded are with a stone gate opening to a sun-lit field. There's all kind of metaphor in that. Another memorial I have in my study at home is a 1950s era decorative plate with a picture of church set in it. That church is Lowe's Grove Baptist Church, the church where I was ordained.
Joshua told the Israelites to make a memorial when they passed over the Jordan and came into the Promised Land. The memorial was not for them. It was for the generations who would follow -- so that they would know the history, remember where they'd come from, and who they're called to be.
May we continue to make memorials. And may our children continue ask of their meaning. And may we always have something meaningful to answer.
Today's Daily Lesson comes from Joshua chapter 4 verses 1 through 7:
When all the nation had finished passing over the Jordan, the Lord said to Joshua, 2 “Take twelve men from the people, from each tribe a man, 3 and command them, saying, ‘Take twelve stones from here out of the midst of the Jordan, from the very place where the priests' feet stood firmly, and bring them over with you and lay them down in the place where you lodge tonight.’” 4 Then Joshua called the twelve men from the people of Israel, whom he had appointed, a man from each tribe. 5 And Joshua said to them, “Pass on before the ark of the Lord your God into the midst of the Jordan, and take up each of you a stone upon his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the people of Israel, 6 that this may be a sign among you. When your children ask in time to come, ‘What do those stones mean to you?’ 7 then you shall tell them that the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the Lord. When it passed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. So these stones shall be to the people of Israel a memorial forever.”
Every nation needs a memorial to remember its founding and other momentous events and people in its history. Pierre L'Enfant, the architect of the National Mall in Washington, DC knew this. As early as 1791 he was imagining a grand space where the new United States of America's government buildings, museums, and national memorials could stand in a monumental and dignified way. L'Enfant knew memorials would need to be built in order for the people to remember their and know itself as a nation.
Families need memorials too. For centuries most people were so poor, the only memorial most families could afford was the Family Bible, and I remember Willie Nelson's "Family Bible" say the same thing I'm trying to say this morning:
There's a family Bible on the table
Its pages worn and hard to read
But the family Bible on the table
Will ever be my key to memories
There's a Family Bible from Irie's side in our family. On my side there's an old pump organ that my uncle has that the Seay side of our family brought all the way from Gainesville to West Texas in covered wagon around 1900. In our house there is a watercolor of Gettysburg a friend in Vermont painted and gave to us. The viewpoint is a densely wooded are with a stone gate opening to a sun-lit field. There's all kind of metaphor in that. Another memorial I have in my study at home is a 1950s era decorative plate with a picture of church set in it. That church is Lowe's Grove Baptist Church, the church where I was ordained.
Joshua told the Israelites to make a memorial when they passed over the Jordan and came into the Promised Land. The memorial was not for them. It was for the generations who would follow -- so that they would know the history, remember where they'd come from, and who they're called to be.
May we continue to make memorials. And may our children continue ask of their meaning. And may we always have something meaningful to answer.
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