Text: Matthew 5:1-12
Theme: “Rhetorical Questions”
Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany
January 30, 2011
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau
In the Name of Jesus
Jesus of Nazareth – like his distant relative, John the Baptist – could really draw a crowd. He had some star power, and His entourage was growing. If you’ve been a good little boy or girl and read your Epiphany season Gospel texts, than that much is quite clear: Jesus, all through His three year public ministry, was something of a celebrity. If He were here today, the paparazzi would be running wild. He might even be featured on Inside Edition or Entertainment Tonight! I wonder if Jesus had a good singing voice. It would be so much better if He could sing; then He could be on American Idol!
Matthew reports that “large crowds” from five different places – Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea, and the region across the Jordan – followed Him. His appeal was not limited to one region. His message must have packed a wallop, and He seems to be a kind of free clinic for health care what with all the healings that He did.
Today’s Gospel reports that Jesus “saw the crowds.” With all those folks in His field of vision, He goes up on a mountainside and sits down. Somebody be sure to hand him some bottled water! Arguably, it was the most religious thing He did that day; He sat down. Back then, that’s what Rabbis did before they spoke. That’s what religious teachers did before they taught: they sat. So, perhaps to grab the attention of the religiously inclined, He sat Himself down on the mountainside. No prancing around a stage with Bible in hand. No PowerPoint. No podium. No pulpit.
But yet we’ve called the message Jesus presented that day the “Sermon on the Mount.” Aren’t sermons to be properly delivered from a pulpit? Should not religious discourses be presented from a podium? And what’s this business of sitting on a mountainside? Religion has a certain decorum, and our Lord doesn’t’ seem to be paying attention to that. Would it not be far more appropriate for Rabbi Jesus to be sitting in the synagogue with his liturgical vesture on? The Jesus of the Sermon on the Mount could quite possibly make us – what’s the word? -- cringe! It’s an unsavory and unsettling image. He comes off like a hippie from Woodstock! It’s all very unsatisfactory and, for that matter, very un-Presbyterian! Newsflash: If Jesus doesn’t fit our notions of propriety, then it’s not Jesus that has to go!
This Sermon on the Mount, or the Meditation on the Mountainside, or the Homily on the Hill, or the Briefing on the Bluff – whatever you wish to call it – begins with nine short statements which all start with the word “Blessed.”
Hundreds of years of tradition have called these statements “The Beatitudes.” One writer, in a rather obvious if not desperate attempt to make them sound relevant, called them the “Be Happy Attitudes.” It sounds kind of cheesy to me. So what’s the point, dear Jesus? Are you saying that you want to be happy but you won’t be happy until you make us happy too? If that’s true, then the big problem with us is that we’re not happy. The job of God, then, is to solve this problem and make us happy all the time. How’s that working out for you? Maybe God is just busy with other things. Happiness is a rather fleeting thing, isn’t it? It’s like jello. You can’t pin it to the wall and expect it to stay very long.
The Biblical word for “Blessed” does have a whiff of happiness to it, but there’s much more to it than that. To be “blessed” means that you are on the receiving end of a gift, a gift from God. But again, that doesn’t mean that every day is supposed to be like Christmas morning when we open gifts. “Blessed” has to do with the gift of your ultimate well-being. Let me repeat: “Blessed” has to do with your ultimate well-being. This is truly wonderful – if not revolutionary – news! It really is.
But the temptation – so very old and so very new – is to run everything Jesus says through a religious grinder. In short, we often interpret Jesus in only a religious way. For example: “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” says Jesus. So we better get cracking and learn to be poor in spirit. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted,” says Jesus. So, if we want comfort, we best live our lives with as much sorrow as we can muster. “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God,” says Jesus. So we better get out a religious brillo pad and scrub out all those evil thoughts and impurities from our hearts. Make sure there’s no streaking, and pay special attention to the corners. What I’m trying to say is that we Christians often attempt to interpret Jesus in a religious way but not a spiritual way.
Just as an aside, the version of the Bible that we have here in the pews and that we use for worship is the New International Version. Guess how many times the word “religion” shows up in the NIV Bible. I mean, the Bible is about religion isn’t it? I went to a parochial grade school where the first class every day was religion class, led by the pastor, where we studied the Bible. You’d think the word “religion” should be peppered throughout every book and chapter. Another newsflash: you can count the times the word “religion” is used in the NIV on one hand – only five times. But it would take nearly twenty two sets of both hands to count how many times the word “blessed” shows up in the Bible. Crunch the numbers. Is God more concerned about your religion or your ultimate well-being?
I understand. The meaning of a word can change over time. The internet site, dictionary.com, defines “religion” as, basically, a “fundamental set of beliefs.” But it’s one thing to know the current definition of a word; it’s another thing to know the origin of the word. The origin goes to the original meaning. And the original meaning of the word “religion” meant, quite literally, to “tie” or “to bind.”
Going with the original meaning, religion ties you up; it binds you. But along comes Jesus Christ who says, in John chapter eight, “If the Son of Man sets you free, you will be free indeed.” It should come as no surprise that the word for setting free means to let loose, to unbind you, to untie you.
If we limit ourselves to only the original meaning of religion, then I don’t know about you but I say it is a dirty word and I don’t want anything to do with it.
The Sermon on the Mount is not another religious declaration or statement among many. The world is filled with those. Rather, this “sermon”, through Jesus, links the Spirit of God to the ultimate well-being -- the blessedness -- of the listener. These are spiritual matters.
Now, our Lord does bring up religious topics later on in the sermon. For instance, Jesus says: “You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘Do not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.’ But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgment.” It is as if He is saying: “You want religion? It’s out there. You want rules and regulations? They’re out there. But I’ve just upped the ante. You want to bind yourself to the rules? Great! Let me tighten the knot. Murder is wrong; it’s illegal – the whole nine yards. But now I’m telling you that as far as God is concerned, the same is true with hatred.” You want religion, you can have it. But Jesus is setting the bar impossibly high.
Jesus says: “Unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven.” John and Jane Doe are sitting out there listening to Jesus, and it dawns on them: “There’s no way. There’s not a chance.”
If all you have is religion, there is no chance. But the good news is that there is Jesus! Jesus says: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the prophets.” Okay, so He’s not going to destroy, wipe out, or nuke religion. What’s He going to do then? “I’ve not come to abolish them,” says Jesus. “I’ve come to fulfill them.”
He fulfilled them not to prove a religious point. He fulfilled them not to show the world what a morally upright man He was. He fulfilled them not to become just another famous teacher on the world stage. No. He fulfilled them for you. He did it on your behalf. And His eventual death and His resurrection from the grave sealed it. Your ultimate well-being is secure.
When the world starts to blast you with another round of reasons intended to drive you to worry or despair, you may politely tell the world to take it up with Jesus. Then go on your way, for your ultimate well-being is secure.
Amen.
THE STRAIGHTFORWARD PULPIT
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Rhetorical Questions
Text: Psalm 27:1
Theme: “Rhetorical Questions”
Third Sunday after the Epiphany
January 23, 2011
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau
In the Name of Jesus
The Lord is my light and my salvation – whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life – of whom shall I be afraid?
--Psalm 27:1
This afternoon, the attention of many in our country will be focused on the NFL conference championship games which pit the Green Bay Packers versus the Chicago Bears and the Pittsburgh Steelers versus the New York Jets. I have a friend in the hospital who doesn’t mind who wins as long as it’s not the Steelers. I asked him why. He said, “Because Pittsburgh has two more Super Bowl championships than ‘America’s Team’.”
Similarly, the attention of many in our country, on this coming Tuesday evening, will be on the halls of congress as the president of the United States delivers the annual “State of the Union” speech. Word is that our elected representatives will not be sitting on “opposite sides of the aisle” as it is said. Instead, they will be intermingled. Despite this planned display of unity, no one can deny that there are serious, substantive differences of opinion amid our elected officials.
With that said, I am more than happy, this morning, to switch gears, and, as your minister of Word and Sacrament, give you something of a state of the church report.
Yesterday, it was my privilege to be a part of the annual Officer’s Retreat here at FPC. It began at 9:00 am sharp, in the Sybil Hopper room, with breakfast kolaches from Kolache Haven, cinnamon rolls, muffins, fresh fruit, orange juice, and coffee. It proceeded with worship here in the sanctuary, the January meeting of the session, and a presentation by yours truly called “Daring Greatly.” I witnessed first-hand the dedication, the enthusiasm, and the good cheer of those whom God has called, through the people of this church, to be our officer’s.
The Presbyterian Church, following the lead and teaching of Holy Scripture, recognizes three offices: the office of elder, the office of deacon, and the office of minister of Word and Sacrament. Those who hold these offices do not put themselves in or into these offices. Rather, they are put into them by God through call and ordination (which includes the laying on of hands).
Although it’s not the best analogy, I’ll give it a whirl anyway. The church is like a car. God drives the car. The elders are the engine of the car. The deacons provide the traction. The deacons are where “the rubber hits the road” when it comes to serving our members and broader community.
In other news, I’m happy to report that First Presbyterian Church of Denton begins 2011 on solid financial footing. Your stewardship, in terms of dollars and cents, is growing. What we owe on our facilities is shrinking. In other news, we are about to bring on a nursery attendant for our little ones during worship. Fellowship dinners are about to begin. Your Growth, Outreach, and Mission Committee has looked long and hard at all the new and modern modes of communication and now is offering a variety of timely ways for our members, friends, and community-at-large to find out what’s happening here.
As we all know, First Presbyterian is located on a pretty busy street, and word is that some expansion is on the way. I’m happy to say that our property committee is on top of this and is dedicated to making accessibility to our facilities as smooth as possible. They are also now charged with finding a way to make our sanctuary more accessible to those with disabilities.
Your worship committee has made some minor modifications to our worship service and worship folder. These reflect the liturgical tradition of the Presbyterian Church and ground us more solidly in the Word of God and the Sacraments. Working with the worship committee, our Minister of Music continues to direct a music ministry that includes people with vast musical talents and gifts brought to the service of God in worship. The influence and work of our Christian Education/Youth Committee speaks for itself. Our young people are not spectators when it comes to the mission and ministry of our congregation. They are actively involved – both in worship and in activities that inspire hope for the hurting. The committee, at my suggestion, added a pastor’s class on Sunday mornings – another opportunity to study the Word of God together. As the weeks progress, they’ll be looking into how we can bring renewal to our Wednesday evening program with learning opportunities and food and fellowship.
At the end of January, it will have been my privilege to have served six months here. I want to thank the members of the session for hosting the “Meet the Pastor” get-togethers which have enabled to get to know you all much better. I want you to know that I have listened, and I’m fully aware that the last few years here have not been easy ones for a variety of reasons. When times are tough for a church, it’s natural to want to circle the wagons and hold on tight to what is most dear.
If anything, I want you to know – in this state of the church report – that it’s time to get the wagons rolling again; it’s time to share what is most dear. While they may or may not know it, the folks in our broader community are yearning for straightforward, clear, consistent, and joyful Gospel proclamation. They want a Word from God that they can sink their teeth into for the coming week. They sense that worship is something much more than frothy emotional appeal, religious entertainment, or worse yet the dispensing of more rules and regulations. In a world and culture shooting off in so many directions, they seek integrity and consistency.
The good news is that First Presbyterian Church of Denton, Texas has offered this, is offering this, and will continue to offer this. Compared to others, we may not be able to accomplish all that Church A or Church B can. But the time for comparisons is over. My charge to the session is my charge to all of you and to myself: let us strive for excellence with what we have in what we do; let us stand in the arena; in the year ahead, let us dare greatly for the Lord who dared greatly for us – all the way to a cross.
In the verse I read earlier, King David, in Psalm 27, asked two questions. We call them rhetorical questions. A rhetorical question, among other things, is an inquiry where the answer is patently obvious. David says: “The Lord is my light and salvation – whom shall I fear?” The answer, obviously, is no one. King David says: “The Lord is the stronghold of my life – of whom shall I be afraid?” Again, the answer is no one.
Fear is a reality of life in a fallen world. For many, it’s the corrosive thread of their existence. Fear can be quite a motivator. People do things because they’re afraid; they say things – which may or may not be true – because they’re afraid, and they think things because they are afraid. People, these days, are stressed and anxious about many things. But peel back the onion, and you’ll find that it is fear that is prompting the stress and anxiety. Entire industries have been built up which cater, if truth be told, to people’s fears. Fear makes people want to shrink from away from it and stand on the sidelines and not in the arena. Fear makes people spectators and critics of life critics instead of participants and achievers.
King David, for all his failures and shortcomings, did not fall for this “stinking thinking”. He took aim at fear – lock, stock, and barrel – and said: The Lord is my light, my salvation, and my stronghold. Fear knocked on King David’s door. Faith answered the door, and there was no one there.
God bless First Presbyterian Church as we set fear aside, strive for excellence, and dare greatly for our Lord. Amen.
Theme: “Rhetorical Questions”
Third Sunday after the Epiphany
January 23, 2011
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau
In the Name of Jesus
The Lord is my light and my salvation – whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life – of whom shall I be afraid?
--Psalm 27:1
This afternoon, the attention of many in our country will be focused on the NFL conference championship games which pit the Green Bay Packers versus the Chicago Bears and the Pittsburgh Steelers versus the New York Jets. I have a friend in the hospital who doesn’t mind who wins as long as it’s not the Steelers. I asked him why. He said, “Because Pittsburgh has two more Super Bowl championships than ‘America’s Team’.”
Similarly, the attention of many in our country, on this coming Tuesday evening, will be on the halls of congress as the president of the United States delivers the annual “State of the Union” speech. Word is that our elected representatives will not be sitting on “opposite sides of the aisle” as it is said. Instead, they will be intermingled. Despite this planned display of unity, no one can deny that there are serious, substantive differences of opinion amid our elected officials.
With that said, I am more than happy, this morning, to switch gears, and, as your minister of Word and Sacrament, give you something of a state of the church report.
Yesterday, it was my privilege to be a part of the annual Officer’s Retreat here at FPC. It began at 9:00 am sharp, in the Sybil Hopper room, with breakfast kolaches from Kolache Haven, cinnamon rolls, muffins, fresh fruit, orange juice, and coffee. It proceeded with worship here in the sanctuary, the January meeting of the session, and a presentation by yours truly called “Daring Greatly.” I witnessed first-hand the dedication, the enthusiasm, and the good cheer of those whom God has called, through the people of this church, to be our officer’s.
The Presbyterian Church, following the lead and teaching of Holy Scripture, recognizes three offices: the office of elder, the office of deacon, and the office of minister of Word and Sacrament. Those who hold these offices do not put themselves in or into these offices. Rather, they are put into them by God through call and ordination (which includes the laying on of hands).
Although it’s not the best analogy, I’ll give it a whirl anyway. The church is like a car. God drives the car. The elders are the engine of the car. The deacons provide the traction. The deacons are where “the rubber hits the road” when it comes to serving our members and broader community.
In other news, I’m happy to report that First Presbyterian Church of Denton begins 2011 on solid financial footing. Your stewardship, in terms of dollars and cents, is growing. What we owe on our facilities is shrinking. In other news, we are about to bring on a nursery attendant for our little ones during worship. Fellowship dinners are about to begin. Your Growth, Outreach, and Mission Committee has looked long and hard at all the new and modern modes of communication and now is offering a variety of timely ways for our members, friends, and community-at-large to find out what’s happening here.
As we all know, First Presbyterian is located on a pretty busy street, and word is that some expansion is on the way. I’m happy to say that our property committee is on top of this and is dedicated to making accessibility to our facilities as smooth as possible. They are also now charged with finding a way to make our sanctuary more accessible to those with disabilities.
Your worship committee has made some minor modifications to our worship service and worship folder. These reflect the liturgical tradition of the Presbyterian Church and ground us more solidly in the Word of God and the Sacraments. Working with the worship committee, our Minister of Music continues to direct a music ministry that includes people with vast musical talents and gifts brought to the service of God in worship. The influence and work of our Christian Education/Youth Committee speaks for itself. Our young people are not spectators when it comes to the mission and ministry of our congregation. They are actively involved – both in worship and in activities that inspire hope for the hurting. The committee, at my suggestion, added a pastor’s class on Sunday mornings – another opportunity to study the Word of God together. As the weeks progress, they’ll be looking into how we can bring renewal to our Wednesday evening program with learning opportunities and food and fellowship.
At the end of January, it will have been my privilege to have served six months here. I want to thank the members of the session for hosting the “Meet the Pastor” get-togethers which have enabled to get to know you all much better. I want you to know that I have listened, and I’m fully aware that the last few years here have not been easy ones for a variety of reasons. When times are tough for a church, it’s natural to want to circle the wagons and hold on tight to what is most dear.
If anything, I want you to know – in this state of the church report – that it’s time to get the wagons rolling again; it’s time to share what is most dear. While they may or may not know it, the folks in our broader community are yearning for straightforward, clear, consistent, and joyful Gospel proclamation. They want a Word from God that they can sink their teeth into for the coming week. They sense that worship is something much more than frothy emotional appeal, religious entertainment, or worse yet the dispensing of more rules and regulations. In a world and culture shooting off in so many directions, they seek integrity and consistency.
The good news is that First Presbyterian Church of Denton, Texas has offered this, is offering this, and will continue to offer this. Compared to others, we may not be able to accomplish all that Church A or Church B can. But the time for comparisons is over. My charge to the session is my charge to all of you and to myself: let us strive for excellence with what we have in what we do; let us stand in the arena; in the year ahead, let us dare greatly for the Lord who dared greatly for us – all the way to a cross.
In the verse I read earlier, King David, in Psalm 27, asked two questions. We call them rhetorical questions. A rhetorical question, among other things, is an inquiry where the answer is patently obvious. David says: “The Lord is my light and salvation – whom shall I fear?” The answer, obviously, is no one. King David says: “The Lord is the stronghold of my life – of whom shall I be afraid?” Again, the answer is no one.
Fear is a reality of life in a fallen world. For many, it’s the corrosive thread of their existence. Fear can be quite a motivator. People do things because they’re afraid; they say things – which may or may not be true – because they’re afraid, and they think things because they are afraid. People, these days, are stressed and anxious about many things. But peel back the onion, and you’ll find that it is fear that is prompting the stress and anxiety. Entire industries have been built up which cater, if truth be told, to people’s fears. Fear makes people want to shrink from away from it and stand on the sidelines and not in the arena. Fear makes people spectators and critics of life critics instead of participants and achievers.
King David, for all his failures and shortcomings, did not fall for this “stinking thinking”. He took aim at fear – lock, stock, and barrel – and said: The Lord is my light, my salvation, and my stronghold. Fear knocked on King David’s door. Faith answered the door, and there was no one there.
God bless First Presbyterian Church as we set fear aside, strive for excellence, and dare greatly for our Lord. Amen.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
"At About 4 PM"
Text: John 1:29-42
Theme: “At About 4 PM”
Second Sunday after the Epiphany
January 16, 2011
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau
In the Name of Jesus
So you’re driving down the road with the radio on. The programming is interrupted with commercials – as it always is. The announcer says: “If you think the economic problems of 2008 were bad, you ain’t seen nuthin yet” – or words to that effect. Then, listeners were advised to go to a website to watch a video and listen in to the dire predictions of what is yet to come. The invitation included a warning which said that some of the materials may be controversial and even offensive. I made a mental note of the website.
Back in the office, having fired up the computer, I listened to this economic “expert” “predict” what was coming. Due to massive debt, the American dollar will no longer be the world’s currency of record. Hyper-inflation will hit. Martial law may have to be imposed. There could be rioting and fighting in the streets.
As the internet video droned on with all this economic prophesying, the office phone rings and it’s a friend of mine telling me that I’m about to receive, through email, a link to an internet video. I’m thinking, “Oh goody, does he listen to the same radio station? Or is this ‘internet video’ day?” This one was different. It featured a certain Linda Stone, a former Vice-President at Microsoft , delivering a lecture in Sweden. She talked about how modern forms of communication enable – if not, create -- what she calls “continuous partial attention.” Among other things, she pointed out that our attention spans are continuous but only partial. It’s a very fancy, educated way of saying that we get distracted; we nod off; we can’t focus; we play mental hopscotch; we hear but we don’t listen. Her assessment was almost as dire as the economic one. The very technology that had the high promise of setting us free is now enslaving us. Given the profusion of information, and the vast number of means in which the information is disseminated, it’s no wonder that we cannot process it all. Hence, we daydream. One listener to the Stockholm lecture wrote this: “We live in a really noisy world and we are trying to stay on top of it – like a bunch of hyper-alert anxious multi-taskers who are constantly over-stimulated…What is personal? What is private? What is intimate? When everything matters nothing matters anymore. Do you connect with me? Do I connect with you? Hey, you only add me (on Facebook) and I add you back amid the noise.”
Enter today’s gospel to the myriad voices vying – and hoping for – our full, undivided attention. It says that John the Baptist “saw” Jesus coming toward him. Having seen Jesus, he disseminates his information by way of his voice. He does the job and accomplishes the task that was His to do. He says, “Look! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” That’s what Jesus does (take away the sin of the world); that is His task to do.
I have no doubt that the authors and producers of the internet videos I just referenced are very sincere. They believe that they are performing a service. They hope that more and more folk will listen to what they say, and that who they are and what they say will gain a following.
People listened to what John the Baptist said. As our reading points out, he even had disciples – that is, people who followed him. Again, on the very next day, he repeats himself: “Look! The Lamb of God!” One of our great Bible scholars, William Barclay, rejoices in John’s modesty. He writes:
(John) must have known very well that to speak to his disciples about Jesus like that was to invite them to leave him and transfer their loyalty to this new and greater teacher; and yet he did it. There was no jealousy in John. He had come to attach people not to himself but to Christ. There is no harder task than to take the second place when once the first place was enjoyed. But as soon as Jesus emerged on the scene John never had any other thought than to send people to Jesus.
Having heard John speak, two of John’s disciples “followed” Jesus, we are told. Jesus hadn’t even said a word – yet. But then he turns around and sees them following Him. Were they ten yards away, or fifty, or three hundred? We are not told. Then, Jesus does speak. He asks a question. It’s an incredible question. In the Greek, it’s “Ti Zeitete?” It can be variously translated – as follows: “Who are you searching for? Why are you searching? What do you seek?”
Jesus does not say what we might expect Him to say: “Alright, sit down; be quiet; listen up; this is the deal; here’s what we’re gonna do.” Interestingly, this approach is what some folks want. They’d much rather have someone tell them what to do, and then, when it doesn’t work out, blame it all on the person who told them what to do. But clearly, our Lord doesn’t want people who check-in their brains at the door and tow the party line. Jesus is not a football coach. He’s not after automatons or robots. Instead, he asks them a question; in love, he draws them out. His continuous attention – full and not partial -- is on them.
He, in this Gospel, is asking us – we who claim to follow Him -- the same questions: “Who are you searching for? Why are you searching? What do you seek?”
How we answer these questions – with our words and our lives – is huge!
To be sure, there are those who seek security – in terms of their health, their current and future economic well-being, and so forth. No wonder there are internet videos, etc. Andy Rooney of 60 Minutes fame once said: “It’s not that I want to be rich. I just don’t want to be poor. I want to stay even.” With security, we are in a better position to be “even”, or of good use for our loved ones, ourselves, and our world, right?
At the same time, there are those who search for meaning and purpose. In the poem O Me! O Life!, Walt Whitman asks and answers his own question about meaning and purpose. He writes:
O me! O life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill'd with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I,
and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the
struggle ever renew'd,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see
around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring--What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer.
That you are here--that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
Jesus asks: “What do you seek?” Someone will surely answer, like Whitman: “’The powerful play goes on.’ And I seek to ‘contribute a verse.’”
As I’ve said, some search for security; others search for meaning and purpose and to “contribute a verse”. Still others want peace. The late John Lennon, a member of the Beatles and something of a poet and lyricist himself, kind of spoke for all the peace-seekers when he wrote and sang:
Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one.
Only ten short years after the bloodiest century in world history, we can be forgiven for seeking a little utopia. Indeed, how we answer the question of Jesus is huge.
If you’re not sure how to answer or how to even start considering the question, look at how the two men in today’s story responded. Jesus asks: “What do you seek?” They answer with a question of their own: “Where are you staying?”
The answer is right there in the question. They sought to stay with Jesus.
The author of today’s Gospel, whom I believe was one of the two, said that this all happened at about four in the afternoon. Pinning down the exact time is not unimportant. Right now, according to my watch, it’s 11:45 AM. Perhaps there’s someone here this morning that has heard anew the question of Jesus – “What do you seek?” – and is ready to answer: “I want to stay with You, Jesus.” If that’s so, might I suggest marking down the time?
The next day, one of the two who spent the day with Jesus, a man named Andrew, went to tell his brother who was named Simon. He said, “We have found the Messiah.” And he brought him to Jesus. Jesus looked Simon in the eye. In the original language, the word for look means more than a passing glance. It suggests a concentrated, intent gaze, a look that sees into someone’s heart. That’s what Simon experienced.
When Jesus looks at us, it is not with a passing glance or with continuous but only partial attention. He looks deeper. He truly sees who we are and what we can become. Not only does he see the realities. He sees the possibilities.
Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word,
But as Thou dweltst with Thy disciples, Lord,
Familiar, understanding, patient, free.
Come not to sojourn, but abide with me.
The powerful play does go on, and you -- with Christ! -- may contribute a verse.
Amen.
Theme: “At About 4 PM”
Second Sunday after the Epiphany
January 16, 2011
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau
In the Name of Jesus
So you’re driving down the road with the radio on. The programming is interrupted with commercials – as it always is. The announcer says: “If you think the economic problems of 2008 were bad, you ain’t seen nuthin yet” – or words to that effect. Then, listeners were advised to go to a website to watch a video and listen in to the dire predictions of what is yet to come. The invitation included a warning which said that some of the materials may be controversial and even offensive. I made a mental note of the website.
Back in the office, having fired up the computer, I listened to this economic “expert” “predict” what was coming. Due to massive debt, the American dollar will no longer be the world’s currency of record. Hyper-inflation will hit. Martial law may have to be imposed. There could be rioting and fighting in the streets.
As the internet video droned on with all this economic prophesying, the office phone rings and it’s a friend of mine telling me that I’m about to receive, through email, a link to an internet video. I’m thinking, “Oh goody, does he listen to the same radio station? Or is this ‘internet video’ day?” This one was different. It featured a certain Linda Stone, a former Vice-President at Microsoft , delivering a lecture in Sweden. She talked about how modern forms of communication enable – if not, create -- what she calls “continuous partial attention.” Among other things, she pointed out that our attention spans are continuous but only partial. It’s a very fancy, educated way of saying that we get distracted; we nod off; we can’t focus; we play mental hopscotch; we hear but we don’t listen. Her assessment was almost as dire as the economic one. The very technology that had the high promise of setting us free is now enslaving us. Given the profusion of information, and the vast number of means in which the information is disseminated, it’s no wonder that we cannot process it all. Hence, we daydream. One listener to the Stockholm lecture wrote this: “We live in a really noisy world and we are trying to stay on top of it – like a bunch of hyper-alert anxious multi-taskers who are constantly over-stimulated…What is personal? What is private? What is intimate? When everything matters nothing matters anymore. Do you connect with me? Do I connect with you? Hey, you only add me (on Facebook) and I add you back amid the noise.”
Enter today’s gospel to the myriad voices vying – and hoping for – our full, undivided attention. It says that John the Baptist “saw” Jesus coming toward him. Having seen Jesus, he disseminates his information by way of his voice. He does the job and accomplishes the task that was His to do. He says, “Look! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” That’s what Jesus does (take away the sin of the world); that is His task to do.
I have no doubt that the authors and producers of the internet videos I just referenced are very sincere. They believe that they are performing a service. They hope that more and more folk will listen to what they say, and that who they are and what they say will gain a following.
People listened to what John the Baptist said. As our reading points out, he even had disciples – that is, people who followed him. Again, on the very next day, he repeats himself: “Look! The Lamb of God!” One of our great Bible scholars, William Barclay, rejoices in John’s modesty. He writes:
(John) must have known very well that to speak to his disciples about Jesus like that was to invite them to leave him and transfer their loyalty to this new and greater teacher; and yet he did it. There was no jealousy in John. He had come to attach people not to himself but to Christ. There is no harder task than to take the second place when once the first place was enjoyed. But as soon as Jesus emerged on the scene John never had any other thought than to send people to Jesus.
Having heard John speak, two of John’s disciples “followed” Jesus, we are told. Jesus hadn’t even said a word – yet. But then he turns around and sees them following Him. Were they ten yards away, or fifty, or three hundred? We are not told. Then, Jesus does speak. He asks a question. It’s an incredible question. In the Greek, it’s “Ti Zeitete?” It can be variously translated – as follows: “Who are you searching for? Why are you searching? What do you seek?”
Jesus does not say what we might expect Him to say: “Alright, sit down; be quiet; listen up; this is the deal; here’s what we’re gonna do.” Interestingly, this approach is what some folks want. They’d much rather have someone tell them what to do, and then, when it doesn’t work out, blame it all on the person who told them what to do. But clearly, our Lord doesn’t want people who check-in their brains at the door and tow the party line. Jesus is not a football coach. He’s not after automatons or robots. Instead, he asks them a question; in love, he draws them out. His continuous attention – full and not partial -- is on them.
He, in this Gospel, is asking us – we who claim to follow Him -- the same questions: “Who are you searching for? Why are you searching? What do you seek?”
How we answer these questions – with our words and our lives – is huge!
To be sure, there are those who seek security – in terms of their health, their current and future economic well-being, and so forth. No wonder there are internet videos, etc. Andy Rooney of 60 Minutes fame once said: “It’s not that I want to be rich. I just don’t want to be poor. I want to stay even.” With security, we are in a better position to be “even”, or of good use for our loved ones, ourselves, and our world, right?
At the same time, there are those who search for meaning and purpose. In the poem O Me! O Life!, Walt Whitman asks and answers his own question about meaning and purpose. He writes:
O me! O life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill'd with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I,
and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the
struggle ever renew'd,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see
around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring--What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer.
That you are here--that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
Jesus asks: “What do you seek?” Someone will surely answer, like Whitman: “’The powerful play goes on.’ And I seek to ‘contribute a verse.’”
As I’ve said, some search for security; others search for meaning and purpose and to “contribute a verse”. Still others want peace. The late John Lennon, a member of the Beatles and something of a poet and lyricist himself, kind of spoke for all the peace-seekers when he wrote and sang:
Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one.
Only ten short years after the bloodiest century in world history, we can be forgiven for seeking a little utopia. Indeed, how we answer the question of Jesus is huge.
If you’re not sure how to answer or how to even start considering the question, look at how the two men in today’s story responded. Jesus asks: “What do you seek?” They answer with a question of their own: “Where are you staying?”
The answer is right there in the question. They sought to stay with Jesus.
The author of today’s Gospel, whom I believe was one of the two, said that this all happened at about four in the afternoon. Pinning down the exact time is not unimportant. Right now, according to my watch, it’s 11:45 AM. Perhaps there’s someone here this morning that has heard anew the question of Jesus – “What do you seek?” – and is ready to answer: “I want to stay with You, Jesus.” If that’s so, might I suggest marking down the time?
The next day, one of the two who spent the day with Jesus, a man named Andrew, went to tell his brother who was named Simon. He said, “We have found the Messiah.” And he brought him to Jesus. Jesus looked Simon in the eye. In the original language, the word for look means more than a passing glance. It suggests a concentrated, intent gaze, a look that sees into someone’s heart. That’s what Simon experienced.
When Jesus looks at us, it is not with a passing glance or with continuous but only partial attention. He looks deeper. He truly sees who we are and what we can become. Not only does he see the realities. He sees the possibilities.
Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word,
But as Thou dweltst with Thy disciples, Lord,
Familiar, understanding, patient, free.
Come not to sojourn, but abide with me.
The powerful play does go on, and you -- with Christ! -- may contribute a verse.
Amen.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Fit and Useful
Text: Joshua 1:7-9
Theme: “Fit and Useful”
Baptism of the Lord
January 9, 2011
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau
In the Name of Jesus
7 “Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, that you may be successful wherever you go. 8 Keep this Book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. 9 Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.”
The overall Time of Christmas has three little seasons packed into it. First, there is Advent, the four week period which leads up to Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Following that, you have the twelve days of Christmas itself. Finally, you have the season of Epiphany which began this past Thursday. An epiphany is a manifestation or a disclosure with some extra zest, zip, and tang. You might call it an “Aha!” or “Eureka” experience! The first big epiphany was the star in the east which led the Gentile magi to visit – and worship! – the child Jesus. For the next big Epiphany, the church year jumps ahead about thirty years, and once more we find ourselves out by the river Jordan – with John the Baptist -- for the Baptism of Our Lord. That story we just heard in today’s Gospel. The first big epiphany essentially said “Follow the star. You’ll find your King.” The second big epiphany essentially says that this King the Gentile magi worshipped is the beloved Son of God, and, more than that, this beloved Son identifies Himself with us as He is baptized. John the Baptist wanted nothing to do with baptizing Jesus. The roles would need to be reversed. He says to Jesus, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” Jesus replies with His first recorded words in Matthew’s Gospel: “Let it be so now; it is proper for us to do this to fulfill all righteousness.” Without Jesus being baptized, righteousness –at least the kind that God has every right to expect of us – doesn’t have the proverbial snowball’s chance in hell. Jesus is baptized. He chooses to hang out, chill out, stick it out, and go all in for us. He throws His hat in our ring!
Thus, we can be done, and bid farewell, to all this nonsense about God being far out and far away and out to lunch and out of touch. The alluring temptation – still as worn out as it is popular -- is to sort of federalize God. We like to think of the Almighty as being “inside the beltway”, far removed from the citizenry, in some heavenly, celestial version of Washington, D.C. God is up there preparing a place for us in the “shining city on the hill”, and we’re left o our own devices. The Baptism of our Lord, out there at the River Jordan, calls a halt to all this gobbledygook. We’re stuck with Jesus; He is where we are at, and we can be glad of it. He is as close as the baptismal water that you were sprinkled, doused and/or covered with. The Lord is as near as the bread and the wine of the communion table. “Wherever two or three are gathered together in my Name,” says Jesus, “there I am.”
This new year – the Year of Our Lord, 2011 – is still in its infancy. It stands to reason that some of you here this morning have made some new year’s resolutions and already are endeavoring to make good on them. I have to admit that I can’t remember the last time I ever made a new year’s resolution. On the one hand, I feel bad about that because I haven’t experienced the possible good results that could come from keeping resolutions. On the other hand, however, I’m glad. You see, there have been times when I thought I had all the resolution and resolve and will power and determination in the world to achieve a goal and accomplish something good, but I ended up missing the mark by a long shot. So, why bother making resolutions? Who wants to set themselves up for failure? As I prepared for this sermon, this dawned on me. This has been my thinking. And it has prompted a painful question: am I living the life I’ve been given to the full, or do I spend more time being a critic of my own existence – or someone else’s? When I experience failure, I’m inordinately hard on myself. I’m captivated by fear and self-loathing. When I experience success, I tend to take excessive credit. In short, I’m a critic.
Theodore Roosevelt, the twenty-sixth president of the United States and an eminently quotable American, didn’t care much for critics. He once said:
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.
The good news of today’s Gospel – the story of the Baptism of our Lord – is that Jesus Christ, our God, identifies with all of us. We are not alone – either individually or corporately.
Now, dear members of First Presbyterian Church, with all of this in mind, are we going to enter into the year of our Lord, 2011, as cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat? Are we going to settle for the easier and softer way of being the critic of our own life, or the life of someone else, or the life of the church? Are we going to continue to do the same thing again and again and again while expecting different results? Some call that insanity. Will we keep coming into this physical place at 11:00 AM on Sunday mornings simply because – if not, only because -- it is a habit?
On that day, so long ago, out there on the River Jordan, Jesus Christ publicly stepped up to the plate on behalf of all of us. What are we going to do this year to step up to the plate on behalf of Him? Pay no mind to the critics in your own head or someone else’s. That’s just so much noise. Don’t think in terms of victories or defeats. Jesus Christ Himself turned that whole line of thinking on its head anyway. He changed what appeared to be the greatest defeat in history (His crucifixion on a Roman cross) into the greatest victory the world has ever known. He rose from the dead and lives and reigns to all eternity! Rather, think of how you and I, together, can dare greatly for the Lord in this new year.
I can almost see the red flags popping up. Someone says: “Pastor Paul, 2010 was a rough year for all of us here at FPC, and we just don’t have the money and human resources. That church down the street and that congregation up the road, well, they’ve got all the people and the programs.” Here’s my response, and I hope it doesn’t sound mean because I don’t mean it to be mean. My response is this: So? I say that Jesus Christ didn’t have a lot of money in his earthly ministry and the one who had control of it betrayed Him. He had only twelve disciples. If we spend time comparing ourselves to others, we waste time that could otherwise have been spent daring to do great things for our Lord! Instead of burning minutes thinking or talking about what we can’t do, lets, instead, focus on what we can do and then see to it that it is done with as much excellence as we can possibly muster.
Here’s a good question to ask: “Where do I start to dare greatly for the Lord?” Here’s a suggestion. Identify what your God-given skills and abilities and interests are. Then apply them to the needs of the world that are closest to you. Do not – and I repeat: do not! – compare yourselves to others and say, “Well, they’re so much more able to do this than I am.” Don’t even go there.
In order to dare great things for the Lord, there are two prerequisites. There are two things that we can’t do without. First, we need spiritual fitness. Second, we need to be useful to the world. This applies equally to us as individuals and as a church.
Now, it is entirely possible to be spiritually unfit and of no use to the world. It is sad, but true. Some lead lives of existential despair.
Similarly, it is entirely possible to be spiritually fit and of no use to the world. These are folks – we might call them separatists – who think that God has pretty much given up on the world and the best thing to do is stick together and study our Bibles and our sacred texts. This is the isolationist impulse. There have been sad examples in American history. Recall Waco and the Branch Davidians.
Again, it is entirely possible to be spiritually unfit and of great use to the world. These are the people who constantly go about taking action, doing deeds, initiating projects, offering leadership, giving money to worthy causes, and so on. Often, if not exclusively, it is done for recognition. King Herod, of the Christmas story, helped build the great temple in Jerusalem and provided running water through the aqueducts. Adolf Hitler vastly improved the German infrastructure through the autobahn. But were Herod and Hitler spiritually fit? The record of history says otherwise.
If we are to dare greatly for the Lord, spiritual fitness and usefulness to the world – both and not one at the expense of the other – are needed. They go hand in hand.
Earlier this week, my devotional reading told the story of Joshua. That Biblical narrative began at a pivotal point in the history of God’s people. Moses, that towering figure of the Old Testament, had died. God’s children, set free from Israel, were about to enter the promised land. But now their leader was dead.
With grief and uncertainty, they faced an unknown future. Who would step up? Who would dare greatly? Who would be spiritually fit and useful for their cause?
Joshua, the son of Nun and the “right hand man” of Moses, steps into what Teddy Roosevelt called “the arena.” Our Lord’s words to him dismiss the grief and uncertainty and point to a glorious future.
This is what God said to him:
Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, that you may be successful wherever you go. Keep this Book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.
Meditating on God’s Word day and night: this is how spiritual fitness and usefulness to the world happens. In a world of detours both alluring and tragic, this keeps us on a straight path.
No longer can you and I settle for one hour a week in church only to spend six days and twenty three hours in a spiritual wilderness. Our task, day and night, is to meditate on God’s Word so that we might do what it says.
In the process, we will find ourselves daring great things for our Lord! When Jesus was baptized, that’s what He stepped into the arena with all of us. Together with Him, our little flock begins this new year strong and courageous, spiritually fit, and ready to be of good use to the world. Dare greatly!
Amen.
Theme: “Fit and Useful”
Baptism of the Lord
January 9, 2011
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau
In the Name of Jesus
7 “Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, that you may be successful wherever you go. 8 Keep this Book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. 9 Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.”
The overall Time of Christmas has three little seasons packed into it. First, there is Advent, the four week period which leads up to Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Following that, you have the twelve days of Christmas itself. Finally, you have the season of Epiphany which began this past Thursday. An epiphany is a manifestation or a disclosure with some extra zest, zip, and tang. You might call it an “Aha!” or “Eureka” experience! The first big epiphany was the star in the east which led the Gentile magi to visit – and worship! – the child Jesus. For the next big Epiphany, the church year jumps ahead about thirty years, and once more we find ourselves out by the river Jordan – with John the Baptist -- for the Baptism of Our Lord. That story we just heard in today’s Gospel. The first big epiphany essentially said “Follow the star. You’ll find your King.” The second big epiphany essentially says that this King the Gentile magi worshipped is the beloved Son of God, and, more than that, this beloved Son identifies Himself with us as He is baptized. John the Baptist wanted nothing to do with baptizing Jesus. The roles would need to be reversed. He says to Jesus, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” Jesus replies with His first recorded words in Matthew’s Gospel: “Let it be so now; it is proper for us to do this to fulfill all righteousness.” Without Jesus being baptized, righteousness –at least the kind that God has every right to expect of us – doesn’t have the proverbial snowball’s chance in hell. Jesus is baptized. He chooses to hang out, chill out, stick it out, and go all in for us. He throws His hat in our ring!
Thus, we can be done, and bid farewell, to all this nonsense about God being far out and far away and out to lunch and out of touch. The alluring temptation – still as worn out as it is popular -- is to sort of federalize God. We like to think of the Almighty as being “inside the beltway”, far removed from the citizenry, in some heavenly, celestial version of Washington, D.C. God is up there preparing a place for us in the “shining city on the hill”, and we’re left o our own devices. The Baptism of our Lord, out there at the River Jordan, calls a halt to all this gobbledygook. We’re stuck with Jesus; He is where we are at, and we can be glad of it. He is as close as the baptismal water that you were sprinkled, doused and/or covered with. The Lord is as near as the bread and the wine of the communion table. “Wherever two or three are gathered together in my Name,” says Jesus, “there I am.”
This new year – the Year of Our Lord, 2011 – is still in its infancy. It stands to reason that some of you here this morning have made some new year’s resolutions and already are endeavoring to make good on them. I have to admit that I can’t remember the last time I ever made a new year’s resolution. On the one hand, I feel bad about that because I haven’t experienced the possible good results that could come from keeping resolutions. On the other hand, however, I’m glad. You see, there have been times when I thought I had all the resolution and resolve and will power and determination in the world to achieve a goal and accomplish something good, but I ended up missing the mark by a long shot. So, why bother making resolutions? Who wants to set themselves up for failure? As I prepared for this sermon, this dawned on me. This has been my thinking. And it has prompted a painful question: am I living the life I’ve been given to the full, or do I spend more time being a critic of my own existence – or someone else’s? When I experience failure, I’m inordinately hard on myself. I’m captivated by fear and self-loathing. When I experience success, I tend to take excessive credit. In short, I’m a critic.
Theodore Roosevelt, the twenty-sixth president of the United States and an eminently quotable American, didn’t care much for critics. He once said:
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.
The good news of today’s Gospel – the story of the Baptism of our Lord – is that Jesus Christ, our God, identifies with all of us. We are not alone – either individually or corporately.
Now, dear members of First Presbyterian Church, with all of this in mind, are we going to enter into the year of our Lord, 2011, as cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat? Are we going to settle for the easier and softer way of being the critic of our own life, or the life of someone else, or the life of the church? Are we going to continue to do the same thing again and again and again while expecting different results? Some call that insanity. Will we keep coming into this physical place at 11:00 AM on Sunday mornings simply because – if not, only because -- it is a habit?
On that day, so long ago, out there on the River Jordan, Jesus Christ publicly stepped up to the plate on behalf of all of us. What are we going to do this year to step up to the plate on behalf of Him? Pay no mind to the critics in your own head or someone else’s. That’s just so much noise. Don’t think in terms of victories or defeats. Jesus Christ Himself turned that whole line of thinking on its head anyway. He changed what appeared to be the greatest defeat in history (His crucifixion on a Roman cross) into the greatest victory the world has ever known. He rose from the dead and lives and reigns to all eternity! Rather, think of how you and I, together, can dare greatly for the Lord in this new year.
I can almost see the red flags popping up. Someone says: “Pastor Paul, 2010 was a rough year for all of us here at FPC, and we just don’t have the money and human resources. That church down the street and that congregation up the road, well, they’ve got all the people and the programs.” Here’s my response, and I hope it doesn’t sound mean because I don’t mean it to be mean. My response is this: So? I say that Jesus Christ didn’t have a lot of money in his earthly ministry and the one who had control of it betrayed Him. He had only twelve disciples. If we spend time comparing ourselves to others, we waste time that could otherwise have been spent daring to do great things for our Lord! Instead of burning minutes thinking or talking about what we can’t do, lets, instead, focus on what we can do and then see to it that it is done with as much excellence as we can possibly muster.
Here’s a good question to ask: “Where do I start to dare greatly for the Lord?” Here’s a suggestion. Identify what your God-given skills and abilities and interests are. Then apply them to the needs of the world that are closest to you. Do not – and I repeat: do not! – compare yourselves to others and say, “Well, they’re so much more able to do this than I am.” Don’t even go there.
In order to dare great things for the Lord, there are two prerequisites. There are two things that we can’t do without. First, we need spiritual fitness. Second, we need to be useful to the world. This applies equally to us as individuals and as a church.
Now, it is entirely possible to be spiritually unfit and of no use to the world. It is sad, but true. Some lead lives of existential despair.
Similarly, it is entirely possible to be spiritually fit and of no use to the world. These are folks – we might call them separatists – who think that God has pretty much given up on the world and the best thing to do is stick together and study our Bibles and our sacred texts. This is the isolationist impulse. There have been sad examples in American history. Recall Waco and the Branch Davidians.
Again, it is entirely possible to be spiritually unfit and of great use to the world. These are the people who constantly go about taking action, doing deeds, initiating projects, offering leadership, giving money to worthy causes, and so on. Often, if not exclusively, it is done for recognition. King Herod, of the Christmas story, helped build the great temple in Jerusalem and provided running water through the aqueducts. Adolf Hitler vastly improved the German infrastructure through the autobahn. But were Herod and Hitler spiritually fit? The record of history says otherwise.
If we are to dare greatly for the Lord, spiritual fitness and usefulness to the world – both and not one at the expense of the other – are needed. They go hand in hand.
Earlier this week, my devotional reading told the story of Joshua. That Biblical narrative began at a pivotal point in the history of God’s people. Moses, that towering figure of the Old Testament, had died. God’s children, set free from Israel, were about to enter the promised land. But now their leader was dead.
With grief and uncertainty, they faced an unknown future. Who would step up? Who would dare greatly? Who would be spiritually fit and useful for their cause?
Joshua, the son of Nun and the “right hand man” of Moses, steps into what Teddy Roosevelt called “the arena.” Our Lord’s words to him dismiss the grief and uncertainty and point to a glorious future.
This is what God said to him:
Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, that you may be successful wherever you go. Keep this Book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.
Meditating on God’s Word day and night: this is how spiritual fitness and usefulness to the world happens. In a world of detours both alluring and tragic, this keeps us on a straight path.
No longer can you and I settle for one hour a week in church only to spend six days and twenty three hours in a spiritual wilderness. Our task, day and night, is to meditate on God’s Word so that we might do what it says.
In the process, we will find ourselves daring great things for our Lord! When Jesus was baptized, that’s what He stepped into the arena with all of us. Together with Him, our little flock begins this new year strong and courageous, spiritually fit, and ready to be of good use to the world. Dare greatly!
Amen.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Gold, Frankincense, Myrrh, and More!
Text: Ephesians 1:3-14
Theme: “Gold, Frankincense, Myrrh, and More”
Epiphany of the Lord (observed)/The Second Sunday after Christmas
January 2, 2011
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau
In the Name of Jesus
The language of an old holiday carol seems entirely seasonal and appropriate, so here goes:
The old year now away is fled,
The new year it is entered;
Then let us all our sins down tread
And joyfully appear.
Let’s merry be this day,
Let us run with sport and play,
Be done with sorrow; cast care away.
God send us a happy new year!
Indeed, happy new year to you all! Here we are on the ninth day of Christmas and the first worship of the year of our Lord, 2011! Technically, there are three more days of the twelve days of Christmas, and then we arrive at the Epiphany of Our Lord on January6, which we observe a bit ahead of time this morning. Epiphany, which means to “make known” or “make manifest”, celebrates the arrival of those famous visitors from the east, the Magi, who brought gifts to the infant Jesus. Infant Jesus was “made known” or “made manifest” to them, uniquely, through the star in the east, a star that they had followed. The star did the epiphany. What was your epiphany? Who or what made Jesus known to you?
Upon reaching their destination they brought gifts to the infant Jesus. They weren’t exactly age-appropriate. It wasn’t a cute little receiving blanket – which would be something a bit nicer than the swaddling clothes. Neither was it a little fire truck from Fisher-Price. The gifts were gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
Now the question on the minds of the magi, during their holiday travels, was this: “Where is He who is born King of the Jews? For we have seen His star in the east and have come to worship Him.” Clues to understanding the gifts – gold, frankincense, and myrrh – quite possibly are located in the question itself. They were looking for the King of the Jews. Gold was a gift for a king, for royalty. They wanted to worship the King. Frankincense, burned as a fragrant on a thousand altars, goes with the whole idea of worship. But what of myrrh? Myrrh was an expensive perfume – something along the lines of Chanel No. 5. In addition, it was regularly used as a burial ointment. Did the magi know something – or intuit something – about the future of the baby King? Did they realize that He would die? Did they wonder why He would die?
In any case, the tradition of gift giving at Christmastime has a solid and Biblical origin. It starts with the greatest gift of them all: the One who was born King of the Jews. It follows with the gifts of the magi to the newborn King of the Jews. Then, in keeping with such grand tradition, we give and exchange our own gifts.
One of the Christmas gifts I have received – for as long as I can remember, unbroken tradition – is a pair of new socks. Every Christmas, in one way or another, I get at least one pair. Usually, they come in a set of three pair these days. Within a year or so, I wear them out. Or they get lost in the laundry. I have a sack at home – a sack of sad socks – filled with socks who have lost their mates. Once or twice a year, I wrestle with the significant question of whether to leave the single socks at peace in their bag or to undertake a “search and rescue” mission to locate their mates.
Dear friends, all of us, obviously, misplace or lose our socks, or our car keys, or our wallets or purses, or any one of a number of things. Sometimes we find them; sometimes we don’t. Such losses and displacements or misplacements can be momentarily sad or inconvenient more than anything.
But consider this: what happens when we lose a bit of ourselves? What happens when we misplace or displace our peace of mind or our purpose in life? What do we do when we face a new year coming as it often does with a new round of uncertainty? Uncertainty often gives birth to fear, and we do our best to smile through the pain and pretend that everything is just a-okay. But sometimes it doesn’t work. So re redouble effort to gin up as much good cheer as we can, but, if truth be told, we find ourselves just a day older, a year older; we lead lives of what Henry David Thoreau once called “quiet desperation.” We lash out at the status quo, and all we hear is the echo of our lashing out. Our souls can feel like individual socks in a sack – like nothing more than inanimate objects. Shall we undertake a “search and rescue”?
No. I would suggest we not do that. That would be to take away from God the job that God does – and does so well. God does the “search and rescue”. God finds – and gives us back – who we are and who we will be.
Today’s New Testament reading from Ephesians does not begin with the sound of “quiet desperation.” Rather, we hear high doxology. St. Paul writes to his brothers and sisters in Ephesus: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!” And the praise is not generic; it is specific: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ.”
You heard it correctly. You are in full possession of every spiritual blessing. Not only do you get the pair of socks, you’ve got the entire wardrobe for life!
There’s more! God “chose us” in Christ “before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight.” We can have new year’s resolutions galore, and we may even make good on a few of them. But inevitably, we fail at one point or another. But there’s not failure with God’s resolve to choose us. You may feel as though you’ve sitting on the sideline of life. But God says: “I’ve chosen you.” As far as God is concerned, all of us are first round draft choices!
Again, there’s more! The apostle says that God “predestined us for adoption.” Let me translate that: our destiny, as far as God is concerned, is set. Christ is our brother and, because that is so, we are the adopted sons and daughters of God. When you feel all alone in a world of billions of people, remember this.
Again, there’s more! In Christ, “we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us.” One of the wisest teachers I’ve ever known, in a graduate school class in systematic theology, uttered one of the most profound statements I’ve ever heard. He said, “The problem with us is not that we have ingrown toenails.”
He went on to explain. He said the root problem is that we are all sinners. God’s Law demands not adherence, not good intentions, not sitck-to-it-iveness. It demands perfection. If we can’t reach that standard (and we can’t), we’re basically stuck in a spiritual sack of socks without mates. Sin is the great kidnapper. But, says the apostle, “we have redemption” through Christ’s blood, the forgiveness of sins… .” God paid the ransom! We are free!
So listen up! Here’s a list of gifts, that are entirely yours, to begin the new year with:
• You have every spiritual blessing at your disposal;
• You are chosen;
• You are an adopted child of God;
• You are redeemed!
So…
Let’s merry be this day,
Let us run with sport and play,
Be done with sorrow; cast care away.
God send us a happy new year!
Amen.
Theme: “Gold, Frankincense, Myrrh, and More”
Epiphany of the Lord (observed)/The Second Sunday after Christmas
January 2, 2011
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau
In the Name of Jesus
The language of an old holiday carol seems entirely seasonal and appropriate, so here goes:
The old year now away is fled,
The new year it is entered;
Then let us all our sins down tread
And joyfully appear.
Let’s merry be this day,
Let us run with sport and play,
Be done with sorrow; cast care away.
God send us a happy new year!
Indeed, happy new year to you all! Here we are on the ninth day of Christmas and the first worship of the year of our Lord, 2011! Technically, there are three more days of the twelve days of Christmas, and then we arrive at the Epiphany of Our Lord on January6, which we observe a bit ahead of time this morning. Epiphany, which means to “make known” or “make manifest”, celebrates the arrival of those famous visitors from the east, the Magi, who brought gifts to the infant Jesus. Infant Jesus was “made known” or “made manifest” to them, uniquely, through the star in the east, a star that they had followed. The star did the epiphany. What was your epiphany? Who or what made Jesus known to you?
Upon reaching their destination they brought gifts to the infant Jesus. They weren’t exactly age-appropriate. It wasn’t a cute little receiving blanket – which would be something a bit nicer than the swaddling clothes. Neither was it a little fire truck from Fisher-Price. The gifts were gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
Now the question on the minds of the magi, during their holiday travels, was this: “Where is He who is born King of the Jews? For we have seen His star in the east and have come to worship Him.” Clues to understanding the gifts – gold, frankincense, and myrrh – quite possibly are located in the question itself. They were looking for the King of the Jews. Gold was a gift for a king, for royalty. They wanted to worship the King. Frankincense, burned as a fragrant on a thousand altars, goes with the whole idea of worship. But what of myrrh? Myrrh was an expensive perfume – something along the lines of Chanel No. 5. In addition, it was regularly used as a burial ointment. Did the magi know something – or intuit something – about the future of the baby King? Did they realize that He would die? Did they wonder why He would die?
In any case, the tradition of gift giving at Christmastime has a solid and Biblical origin. It starts with the greatest gift of them all: the One who was born King of the Jews. It follows with the gifts of the magi to the newborn King of the Jews. Then, in keeping with such grand tradition, we give and exchange our own gifts.
One of the Christmas gifts I have received – for as long as I can remember, unbroken tradition – is a pair of new socks. Every Christmas, in one way or another, I get at least one pair. Usually, they come in a set of three pair these days. Within a year or so, I wear them out. Or they get lost in the laundry. I have a sack at home – a sack of sad socks – filled with socks who have lost their mates. Once or twice a year, I wrestle with the significant question of whether to leave the single socks at peace in their bag or to undertake a “search and rescue” mission to locate their mates.
Dear friends, all of us, obviously, misplace or lose our socks, or our car keys, or our wallets or purses, or any one of a number of things. Sometimes we find them; sometimes we don’t. Such losses and displacements or misplacements can be momentarily sad or inconvenient more than anything.
But consider this: what happens when we lose a bit of ourselves? What happens when we misplace or displace our peace of mind or our purpose in life? What do we do when we face a new year coming as it often does with a new round of uncertainty? Uncertainty often gives birth to fear, and we do our best to smile through the pain and pretend that everything is just a-okay. But sometimes it doesn’t work. So re redouble effort to gin up as much good cheer as we can, but, if truth be told, we find ourselves just a day older, a year older; we lead lives of what Henry David Thoreau once called “quiet desperation.” We lash out at the status quo, and all we hear is the echo of our lashing out. Our souls can feel like individual socks in a sack – like nothing more than inanimate objects. Shall we undertake a “search and rescue”?
No. I would suggest we not do that. That would be to take away from God the job that God does – and does so well. God does the “search and rescue”. God finds – and gives us back – who we are and who we will be.
Today’s New Testament reading from Ephesians does not begin with the sound of “quiet desperation.” Rather, we hear high doxology. St. Paul writes to his brothers and sisters in Ephesus: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!” And the praise is not generic; it is specific: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ.”
You heard it correctly. You are in full possession of every spiritual blessing. Not only do you get the pair of socks, you’ve got the entire wardrobe for life!
There’s more! God “chose us” in Christ “before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight.” We can have new year’s resolutions galore, and we may even make good on a few of them. But inevitably, we fail at one point or another. But there’s not failure with God’s resolve to choose us. You may feel as though you’ve sitting on the sideline of life. But God says: “I’ve chosen you.” As far as God is concerned, all of us are first round draft choices!
Again, there’s more! The apostle says that God “predestined us for adoption.” Let me translate that: our destiny, as far as God is concerned, is set. Christ is our brother and, because that is so, we are the adopted sons and daughters of God. When you feel all alone in a world of billions of people, remember this.
Again, there’s more! In Christ, “we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us.” One of the wisest teachers I’ve ever known, in a graduate school class in systematic theology, uttered one of the most profound statements I’ve ever heard. He said, “The problem with us is not that we have ingrown toenails.”
He went on to explain. He said the root problem is that we are all sinners. God’s Law demands not adherence, not good intentions, not sitck-to-it-iveness. It demands perfection. If we can’t reach that standard (and we can’t), we’re basically stuck in a spiritual sack of socks without mates. Sin is the great kidnapper. But, says the apostle, “we have redemption” through Christ’s blood, the forgiveness of sins… .” God paid the ransom! We are free!
So listen up! Here’s a list of gifts, that are entirely yours, to begin the new year with:
• You have every spiritual blessing at your disposal;
• You are chosen;
• You are an adopted child of God;
• You are redeemed!
So…
Let’s merry be this day,
Let us run with sport and play,
Be done with sorrow; cast care away.
God send us a happy new year!
Amen.
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