Text: Psalm 1
Theme: “A Prayer Primer”
The 7th Sunday of Easter
May 20, 2012
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau
IN THE NAME OF JESUS
1 Blessed is the one
who does not walk in step with the wicked
or stand in the way that sinners take
or sit in the company of mockers,
2 but whose delight is in the law of the LORD,
and who meditates on his law day and night.
3 That person is like a tree planted by streams of water,
which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither—
whatever they do prospers.
4 Not so the wicked!
They are like chaff
that the wind blows away.
5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.
6 For the LORD watches over the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked leads to destruction.
This morning I wish to extend hearty congratulations to our high school graduates here at First Presbyterian Church. At this time of transition in their lives, our hopes and prayers go with Haley Hackler, Skylar Padia, and Cristina Renteria. All three of these young women have brought a great deal of joy to our congregation through the years. We’ve been impressed with their faith, their vitality, and their energy. And we thank their families for letting us be part of their extended family here. God bless them, one and all!
This past Thursday, with little if any fanfare and hardly any notice at all, many Christians and Christian churches marked the fortieth day of the Easter season. What’s the big deal about the fortieth day? Well, it is also known as Ascension Day. Forty days after Christ Jesus rose bodily from the dead, the Bible tells us that our Messiah ascended into heaven. There’s a bit of Ascension Day every Sunday in church when we confess, with the Apostles’ Creed, He “ascended into heaven and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father almighty. From thence, He shall come to judge the quick and the dead.” We find ourselves – pinpoint ourselves! -- right in the middle of that time, ladies and gentlemen, between the ascension and the return in glory.
Graduation from high school is certainly a time of transition, and those first days following the ascension surely had to be a time of transition for the disciples of Jesus. His physical, visible presence – which they had experienced for round about three years -- was now withdrawn from them. But thankfully, they weren’t left to twiddle their thumbs and speculate, over coffee on the veranda of the local Starbucks, as to what would happen next. Jesus told them to wait in Jerusalem until they were clothed with power from on high. The promised gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost was only days away. We are told that they were continually in the temple praising God. In short, they worshipped – as individuals and as a church about to be born.
One important element of worship is covered in all of the readings for today. I speak of prayer. Based on these readings alone, prayer must be a pretty important subject. And it is. Prayer, simply put, is talking to God with your words and thoughts. Such prayer can go on in the context of the church with other people around. Prayer can happen in small groups or families. Prayer can be individual and private. Examples of such are all over the Bible. Saint Paul goes so far as to say, “Pray unceasingly.”
Thus, prayer is a pretty serious matter. When it is regularly avoided or disregarded, we play fast and loose with – if not break altogether – one of the great commands of God: “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.” The name of the Lord is to be called upon. And what is prayer if not calling on the name of the Lord?
Nowadays, people – myself included – are a little bit skittish about the matter of prayer. In all honesty, we’re inconsistent with prayer and the practice thereof. We convince ourselves that we’re not that good at it, so we slip into not bothering to do it – unless, of course, we’re at church where it’s “appropriate.” A second reason we’re skittish about calling upon the name of our Lord in prayer is what my German forebears called our sitz im leben – that is, our place in life. Our place in life is where everything worth having, we’ve convinced ourselves, is to be had instantly. Throw in that sense of entitlement that is bogging our society down, and you get the idea. Last week, it was reported that when Facebook went public on the stock market, seven billionaires would be created instantly.
Instantly. That’s the way we want what we want. I’m talking about instant information, instant answers, instant acknowledgement, instant gratification, instant five star customer service where God is the heavenly waiter ready to cater to our every need, whim, and fancy. We want what we want, and we want it yesterday. I realized it again in myself when I got up on my high horse about slow internet speed at the office. This is a very impatient world and a restless culture we live in. Is it any wonder people are increasingly worn out? Prayer, for lack of a better phrase, seems to a lot of people like a colossal waste of time. We’re either runnin’ and gunnin’ or crashed out, and prayer? Well, we’ll get to that when we get the time.
If this weren’t enough, you also have to consider the misinformation and disinformation and downright shabby thinking that gathers around the subject. There are all these pithy little phrases out and about. Take, as an example, this one: “Prayer changes things.” Really? I’ve implored the Lord many times over to change a certain situation – and more than one! – in my life. Guess what, nothing happened. Nothing changed – in the way or manner I wanted it to. In some cases, the situation got worse.
Here’s another one: “When all else fails, try a prayer.” Those words were actually on a plaque given to me back in 1975 when I was confirmed. It’s a nice sentiment, but it is horrible theology. It suggests that prayer is some sort of last resort. In other words, “We’ve tried everything else, so I guess all we can do now is pray.” You’ve heard, I’m sure, the phrase “There are no atheists in foxholes.” All this really suggests is that when the chips are down and we face the very real risks of life, people who otherwise are not very religious all of a sudden get very religious. There’s some truth in this, I admit. Collectively, our nation did a lot more praying than usual when you consider the events of Pearl Harbor, the assassination of JFK, and the terrorist attacks of 9/11.
Speaking of 9/11, I’m sure you’ve heard of “911” prayers. In my estimation, all this description does is teach people that prayer is something only to engaged in when there’s an emergency. Now follow the logic: God is only good insofar as He helps us out of the jam we’re in or the emergency we’re experiencing. When everything is peachy-keen and hunky dory, however, we can go about our business without praying and living, essentially, as if God didn’t exist.
So we’re back to square one when it comes to prayer. If I were to give a prayer primer, I would be a fool not to mention that wonderful moment when the disciples of Jesus got it right. They come up to Jesus with a request. They say: “Lord, teach us to pray.” They don’t want their questions answered -- questions such as “Should we pray?” and “How should we pray?” Instead, it’s “teach us” to pray. And our Lord doesn’t tell them to check their email inbox for a tip of the week. He doesn’t outline five sure-fire ways to a “transformative” prayer life or some gobbledygook like that. Instead, He says: “When you pray, pray like this.” Then He speaks forth what subsequent centuries have called The Lord’s Prayer -- which is also known as the “Our Father.”
Did you know that this prayer, the prayer that towers above them all, gets banged up and abused periodically. I’ll give you an example. A number of years ago, my father visited a Lutheran congregation in California. It was a growing congregation that seemed to be bursting with energy. He liked the sermons and the music. The people were friendly; the coffee was good. You got donuts AND fresh fruit! You get the idea. But he noticed something. They rarely, if ever, prayed the Lord’s Prayer. Pop grew up in a church where the Lord’s Prayer was prayed every Sunday, so he was curious as to its absence. He got up the gumption to ask the minister about this. The minister told him that they don’t use it so often because, if they did, it would become rote and be less “meaningful”. Pop was shocked. When did the significance of The Lord’s Prayer start to depend on the meaning we attach to it? Do you see what I’m saying?
Start with the Lord’s Prayer and stick with it, I say. Commit it to memory. Meditate on its petitions. Over time, I think you’ll see that that prayer has all the bases covered.
Speaking of meditating, that (meditation) really comes at point number one while prayer comes at point number two. In some families of yesteryear, if you were a child sitting at the dinner table with your parents and invited guests, you did not speak unless you were first spoken to. This illustrates prayer at its best. Prayer is a response to what God has first said to us in His Word. Sometimes it happens to even the best “prayer warriors”, as they say. They talk to God, talk to God, and talk to God some more. Sometimes I have to wonder if God isn’t sitting up there going, “Uh, I have something to say.”
All of this leads to today’s Psalm, the first psalm, Psalm 1. “Blessed” (or happy) is the person, it says, who does not “walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers.” Folks, we do a lot of walking, standing, and sitting in the course of any given day. Some folks walk, sit, or stand in the company of some not so good people. “Well, Pastor, “someone says, “we can’t avoid that; we’re around all sorts of people every day.” You’re right, but the real key to blessedness and happiness is not who you’re sitting, standing, or walking among. Instead, it’s what you take your delight in.
“Blessed” (or happy) is the person, says the psalm, whose “delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night.” The word translated as “law” here is “Torah”. And “Torah”, for the people of the God at the time, encompassed the entire Bible.
All kinds of people sit, stand, and walk in the course of the day. The truly happy person, if I read it correctly, is the one who delights in the law of the Lord. And if you’re delighted, you’re not content to sit, stand, or walk. You’re ready to run to the source of that delight – and the source of that delight is the Word of God. You’re going to get to it; you’re going to get into it; you’re going to chew on it like a honeysuckle vine.
Folks, I spent nearly ten years hardly ever darkening the door of a church. In retrospect, those were the most difficult days of my life. I almost died. We heard this past week of the death of RFK Jr.’s wife by suicide. My friends, I was that close. I was suffering from depression and dependency. I was angry at everyone (God included) and trusted no one. It was awful.
I hold in my hands four books. They’re actually a set of devotional books. Volume three got chewed up by one of our dogs years ago. I do a show and tell with them this morning to illustrate another point from the Bible: God will not snuff out a dimly lit lamp. And folks, my lamp was running on fumes. If it weren’t for these little devotional volumes (which, for some reason unknown to me, I read with regularity before bedtime), I don’t know if I’d be here today. These books, which included God’s Word for each day, helped me keep on hanging on, and I didn’t even know it at the time.
Whatever kept me reading them is grace. And now, on most days (I didn’t say all days, for I’m still a work in progress), I delight in spending time meditating on the Word of God. And do you know what flows out of that? Prayer does. The best days I have is not when I begin by checking in to headquarters (aka praying to God) with my list of joys and concerns. The best days are when headquarters checks in with me, and the day begins with meditation on the Word of God. Then, with God first having God’s say, I can swing into my joys and concerns. Have you noticed how the Prayers of the People, in the liturgy, come after the hearing and proclaiming of the Word of God? There’s a reason for that.
I’m thrilled to be a baptized, confessing Christian today. I have a God who is known chiefly for His love and mercy. I have a God who, in Jesus, is my brother. He died for my sins and your sins and for my neglect and your neglect of meditating on the Word of God and prayer. We have a God who, in our times of transition, makes every moment a time of transition.
All of us can begin again right now – not like a seed planted in the sand of an arid desert wasteland. Instead, we begin in that delightful place of meditation and prayer. We’re like trees planted by streams of water – soaking up and drinking in the nourishment and sunlight of the Spirit. We yield our fruit in due season. Our leaves do not wither. Everything we do prospers. And all God’s people said AMEN.
THE STRAIGHTFORWARD PULPIT
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Monday, May 14, 2012
Text: John 15:9-17
Theme: “Back to the Future with Love”
The 6th Sunday of Easter
Mother’s Day
May 13, 2012
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau
IN THE NAME OF JESUS
9 “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. 10 If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love. 11 I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. 12 My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. 13 Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. 14 You are my friends if you do what I command. 15 I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you. 16 You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit —fruit that will last—and so that whatever you ask in my name the Father will give you. 17 This is my command: Love each other.
Recorded in a book entitled Leaves of Gold -- a volume passed down from my grandmother, to my mother, and then to me -- are these words first penned by Kate Douglas Wiggin:
Most of all the other beautiful things in life come by twos and threes, by dozens and hundreds. Plenty of roses, stars, sunsets, rainbows, brothers and sisters, aunts and cousins, but only one mother in the whole world.
Once again, Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers among us this morning! May God continue to bless you in your motherhood and in all that it means.
There’s no mention of Mom in today’s Gospel lesson. There is much talk of love, and we’ll get to that. The entire text from John chapter fifteen is a direct quote from Jesus Christ. He’s speaking to His disciples who would become part of the first church. The church, down through the years, has been referred to in feminine terms. One of our classic hymns illustrates the point: “Yet she (referring to the church) has union with God the Three-In-One and mystic, sweet communion with those whose rest is won.” Someone once said that “If you want God as your Father, you must have the church as your mother.” For it is in the context of mother church that one is given that new birth by water and the Spirit.
Speaking to that fledgling mother church, Jesus said: “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” Jesus, because He is Jesus, took it one step further – as only Jesus can do and what it takes Jesus, the sinless Son of God, to do. He not only suffered and died on that cross for His friends. He did so for His enemies as well. The Scriptures declare that He “…suffered once, the just for the unjust, to bring us to God.” The majesty – indeed, the grace – of this message is what the church is all about, and the church is called to live such love even to the point of death.
At 41 years of age, Stacie Crimm was shocked to discover that she was about to become a mother. Doctors had told her that she would never be able to conceive, so she surprised them all. But just a few months after her pregnancy became known, she was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer. With that news, Stacie was presented with the most difficult dilemma a mother could face. She could undergo chemotherapy to save her own life or she could forgo the treatment to save the life of her baby. Her choice was to spare the child. And thankfully, she lived long enough to hold her tiny baby girl, Dottie Mae, in her arms. Stacie died last year in September. The news media declared that this mother “exemplified the courage of womanhood” by the choice she made. But we, here in mother church, can take it one step further: she exemplified that great teaching of Jesus that “Greater love hath no one that this: that one lay down his life for his friends.”
Along with it being Mother’s Day, there’s another reason for rejoicing here at First Presbyterian this morning. We are welcoming new members, and, in today’s liturgy, celebrating two baptisms. Our little corner of “Mother Church” continues to grow, and that, rightly, should give us an extra jolt of joy today. With gratitude to God, we are glad to have Jackson, Janet, and Raymond Jones as part of our little flock. The same goes for Esther Mboto and Kim Tate. These new members know what we already know: First Presbyterian of Denton is not the perfect church. In fact, I’ve often remarked that if I ever found a perfect church I wouldn’t join it. Do you know why? Because if I joined it it wouldn’t be perfect anymore.
As Mike Cassidy and I discovered yesterday morning at a presbytery meeting, the church can be a messy place. Important information can be withheld and then excuses made for its withholding; misunderstandings can carry the day; divisions among people can happen; feelings can be hurt; tears can be shed. But smack dab into the middle of this comes a most timely word of Jesus today. He says to the messy church, the mother church: “Remain in my love…You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit – fruit that will last.”
Back in the late 1980s and early 1990s, I was pastor of a Lutheran congregation. It was a small church, and, looking back, I became something of a numbers cruncher. I was worried – almost to the point of being sick – about how many people were coming to church. I wanted the church to grow in numbers all but to the point obsession. People, even today, ask me: “Is the church growing?” If I could have a dollar for every time I’ve been asked that since becoming pastor of this church, I think I could take you all out for Mother’s Day brunch! I had a secretary back then, who, on the anniversary of my first ordination, gave me a plaque. It had an image of Jesus the Good Shepherd holding a sheep. Underneath were these words: “Count your blessings and not your sheep.” It was – and remains! – a gentle reminder that there’s more to being the church, the messy church, the mother church than the bottom line.
As Diana Butler Bass points out in her book Christianity After Religion, the first decade of the twenty-first century was not particularly good for the holy catholic church of which we Presbyterian are a part. In fact, some have called 2000-2010 the “Horrible Decade”. Churches across the board experienced a “participation crash”, as Bass and others described. There were five factors, she said, that contributed to this.
First, there was the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Politicians and others blamed the radical elements of the Islamic religion for this. But the more they did so, the more religion in general looked bad. Bass writes: “It did not help that some religious leaders, like Pat Robertson, Jerry Falwell, and Franklin Graham, blamed American infidelity for the attacks, saying we had been too tolerant of homosexuals and feminists.” The religious left had its own take on the event. Burned into the database of every right-wing radio station in the country are the words of Obama’s former pastor, Jeremiah Wright: “America’s chickens have come home to roost.” Picking up on this post-911 religious chatter, Christopher Hitchens, an outspoken American atheist, wrote: “People of faith are in their different ways planning your and my destruction, and destruction of all the hard-won human attainments (art, literature, philosophy, ethics, and science). Religion poisons everything.” Bass concluded: “Anti-Islamic prejudice and unthinking hyperpatriotism worked as a double-edged sword of religious self-injury throughout the decade.”
Second, Bass lists the Roman Catholic sex abuse scandal. Looking back, this led to an erosion of overall respect for the clergy – and not just in Catholic circles.
Third, Bass points out the Protestant conflict over homosexuality. With the ordination of Gene Robinson, an openly gay priest, in the Episcopal Diocese of New Hampshire, the battle lines were drawn. Bass says: “Although some Christians surely felt theologically and morally uncomfortable with the idea of a gay bishop, many more were appalled with the nastiness of the controversy, the obvious politicization of their denominations, the low spiritual tone of the discussion, and the scandal of churches suing their mother denominations over property.” The overall effect was to underscore a new narrative – that Christianity is mean, bigoted, and makes people behave badly. That was 2003.
Then came 2004 and a fourth reason. The religious right won the battle, but lost the war. Time magazine touted the second election of George W. Bush as the greatest victory of conservative, “evangelical” religion in the last four decades. Yet, in a recent book, American Grace, the real victory of the religious Right may have been to alienate an entire generation of young people. And I’m telling you, you start counting Presbyterian sheep and the numbers are noticeably absent from the teenage years to about fifty years of age.
The fifth and final reason Bass cites is what she called “The Great Religious Recession” which she traces to the year 2007. Since the year 2000, General Social Survey data shows as much as a 12 point drop in public trust in religious institutions. The American public places more confidence in the scientific community, medicine, the U.S. Supreme Court, and education. The religious favorable rating now hovers around the confidence people have in Wall Street or major corporations.
Looking back over that horrible decade, I suppose you could consider it in one of three ways. You could be an optimist, dance through the rain, whistle in the dark, and say that things will eventually get better. Or, you can be a pessimist and claim that the sky is falling, the end is near, and so on and so forth. Or third, you could be the realist who tries to reconcile the opposing views of the optimist and the pessimist, and then says “Let’s all get along.” Are those the only choices? Some would say so.
But you know what, I’m holding out for a fourth option. I want to look at the facts not as a cheery optimist, not a dismal pessimist, and not as a boring realist.
Instead, I want to be an opportunis. I want, with you, to spot the opportunities that are out there. They may be hidden from us, but they won’t be hidden for too long if we take the time to look.
One opportunity – and perhaps the greatest one of all – is right in front of us in today’s Gospel. And that is the OPPORTUNITY TO REMAIN IN CHRIST’S LOVE, the OPPORTUNITY to AFFIRM that we did not choose God, or spirituality, or religion, or some combination of the three. Instead, God chose us to bear much fruit. And He urged these things upon us so that we might have, in our own lives, the fullness of joy. The opportunity, in a nutshell, is to go back to Jesus so that we might go back into the future with LOVE.
When this opportunity is acted on, you’re going to have more families like the Jones’s. You’re going to have more Esther Mbotos. You’re going to have more Kim Tates. The love will be multiplied – the love from God to, yes, the messy church, and, indeed, to the mother church, and, most certainly, to our church too.
Amen.
Theme: “Back to the Future with Love”
The 6th Sunday of Easter
Mother’s Day
May 13, 2012
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau
IN THE NAME OF JESUS
9 “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. 10 If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love. 11 I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. 12 My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. 13 Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. 14 You are my friends if you do what I command. 15 I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you. 16 You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit —fruit that will last—and so that whatever you ask in my name the Father will give you. 17 This is my command: Love each other.
Recorded in a book entitled Leaves of Gold -- a volume passed down from my grandmother, to my mother, and then to me -- are these words first penned by Kate Douglas Wiggin:
Most of all the other beautiful things in life come by twos and threes, by dozens and hundreds. Plenty of roses, stars, sunsets, rainbows, brothers and sisters, aunts and cousins, but only one mother in the whole world.
Once again, Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers among us this morning! May God continue to bless you in your motherhood and in all that it means.
There’s no mention of Mom in today’s Gospel lesson. There is much talk of love, and we’ll get to that. The entire text from John chapter fifteen is a direct quote from Jesus Christ. He’s speaking to His disciples who would become part of the first church. The church, down through the years, has been referred to in feminine terms. One of our classic hymns illustrates the point: “Yet she (referring to the church) has union with God the Three-In-One and mystic, sweet communion with those whose rest is won.” Someone once said that “If you want God as your Father, you must have the church as your mother.” For it is in the context of mother church that one is given that new birth by water and the Spirit.
Speaking to that fledgling mother church, Jesus said: “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” Jesus, because He is Jesus, took it one step further – as only Jesus can do and what it takes Jesus, the sinless Son of God, to do. He not only suffered and died on that cross for His friends. He did so for His enemies as well. The Scriptures declare that He “…suffered once, the just for the unjust, to bring us to God.” The majesty – indeed, the grace – of this message is what the church is all about, and the church is called to live such love even to the point of death.
At 41 years of age, Stacie Crimm was shocked to discover that she was about to become a mother. Doctors had told her that she would never be able to conceive, so she surprised them all. But just a few months after her pregnancy became known, she was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer. With that news, Stacie was presented with the most difficult dilemma a mother could face. She could undergo chemotherapy to save her own life or she could forgo the treatment to save the life of her baby. Her choice was to spare the child. And thankfully, she lived long enough to hold her tiny baby girl, Dottie Mae, in her arms. Stacie died last year in September. The news media declared that this mother “exemplified the courage of womanhood” by the choice she made. But we, here in mother church, can take it one step further: she exemplified that great teaching of Jesus that “Greater love hath no one that this: that one lay down his life for his friends.”
Along with it being Mother’s Day, there’s another reason for rejoicing here at First Presbyterian this morning. We are welcoming new members, and, in today’s liturgy, celebrating two baptisms. Our little corner of “Mother Church” continues to grow, and that, rightly, should give us an extra jolt of joy today. With gratitude to God, we are glad to have Jackson, Janet, and Raymond Jones as part of our little flock. The same goes for Esther Mboto and Kim Tate. These new members know what we already know: First Presbyterian of Denton is not the perfect church. In fact, I’ve often remarked that if I ever found a perfect church I wouldn’t join it. Do you know why? Because if I joined it it wouldn’t be perfect anymore.
As Mike Cassidy and I discovered yesterday morning at a presbytery meeting, the church can be a messy place. Important information can be withheld and then excuses made for its withholding; misunderstandings can carry the day; divisions among people can happen; feelings can be hurt; tears can be shed. But smack dab into the middle of this comes a most timely word of Jesus today. He says to the messy church, the mother church: “Remain in my love…You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit – fruit that will last.”
Back in the late 1980s and early 1990s, I was pastor of a Lutheran congregation. It was a small church, and, looking back, I became something of a numbers cruncher. I was worried – almost to the point of being sick – about how many people were coming to church. I wanted the church to grow in numbers all but to the point obsession. People, even today, ask me: “Is the church growing?” If I could have a dollar for every time I’ve been asked that since becoming pastor of this church, I think I could take you all out for Mother’s Day brunch! I had a secretary back then, who, on the anniversary of my first ordination, gave me a plaque. It had an image of Jesus the Good Shepherd holding a sheep. Underneath were these words: “Count your blessings and not your sheep.” It was – and remains! – a gentle reminder that there’s more to being the church, the messy church, the mother church than the bottom line.
As Diana Butler Bass points out in her book Christianity After Religion, the first decade of the twenty-first century was not particularly good for the holy catholic church of which we Presbyterian are a part. In fact, some have called 2000-2010 the “Horrible Decade”. Churches across the board experienced a “participation crash”, as Bass and others described. There were five factors, she said, that contributed to this.
First, there was the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Politicians and others blamed the radical elements of the Islamic religion for this. But the more they did so, the more religion in general looked bad. Bass writes: “It did not help that some religious leaders, like Pat Robertson, Jerry Falwell, and Franklin Graham, blamed American infidelity for the attacks, saying we had been too tolerant of homosexuals and feminists.” The religious left had its own take on the event. Burned into the database of every right-wing radio station in the country are the words of Obama’s former pastor, Jeremiah Wright: “America’s chickens have come home to roost.” Picking up on this post-911 religious chatter, Christopher Hitchens, an outspoken American atheist, wrote: “People of faith are in their different ways planning your and my destruction, and destruction of all the hard-won human attainments (art, literature, philosophy, ethics, and science). Religion poisons everything.” Bass concluded: “Anti-Islamic prejudice and unthinking hyperpatriotism worked as a double-edged sword of religious self-injury throughout the decade.”
Second, Bass lists the Roman Catholic sex abuse scandal. Looking back, this led to an erosion of overall respect for the clergy – and not just in Catholic circles.
Third, Bass points out the Protestant conflict over homosexuality. With the ordination of Gene Robinson, an openly gay priest, in the Episcopal Diocese of New Hampshire, the battle lines were drawn. Bass says: “Although some Christians surely felt theologically and morally uncomfortable with the idea of a gay bishop, many more were appalled with the nastiness of the controversy, the obvious politicization of their denominations, the low spiritual tone of the discussion, and the scandal of churches suing their mother denominations over property.” The overall effect was to underscore a new narrative – that Christianity is mean, bigoted, and makes people behave badly. That was 2003.
Then came 2004 and a fourth reason. The religious right won the battle, but lost the war. Time magazine touted the second election of George W. Bush as the greatest victory of conservative, “evangelical” religion in the last four decades. Yet, in a recent book, American Grace, the real victory of the religious Right may have been to alienate an entire generation of young people. And I’m telling you, you start counting Presbyterian sheep and the numbers are noticeably absent from the teenage years to about fifty years of age.
The fifth and final reason Bass cites is what she called “The Great Religious Recession” which she traces to the year 2007. Since the year 2000, General Social Survey data shows as much as a 12 point drop in public trust in religious institutions. The American public places more confidence in the scientific community, medicine, the U.S. Supreme Court, and education. The religious favorable rating now hovers around the confidence people have in Wall Street or major corporations.
Looking back over that horrible decade, I suppose you could consider it in one of three ways. You could be an optimist, dance through the rain, whistle in the dark, and say that things will eventually get better. Or, you can be a pessimist and claim that the sky is falling, the end is near, and so on and so forth. Or third, you could be the realist who tries to reconcile the opposing views of the optimist and the pessimist, and then says “Let’s all get along.” Are those the only choices? Some would say so.
But you know what, I’m holding out for a fourth option. I want to look at the facts not as a cheery optimist, not a dismal pessimist, and not as a boring realist.
Instead, I want to be an opportunis. I want, with you, to spot the opportunities that are out there. They may be hidden from us, but they won’t be hidden for too long if we take the time to look.
One opportunity – and perhaps the greatest one of all – is right in front of us in today’s Gospel. And that is the OPPORTUNITY TO REMAIN IN CHRIST’S LOVE, the OPPORTUNITY to AFFIRM that we did not choose God, or spirituality, or religion, or some combination of the three. Instead, God chose us to bear much fruit. And He urged these things upon us so that we might have, in our own lives, the fullness of joy. The opportunity, in a nutshell, is to go back to Jesus so that we might go back into the future with LOVE.
When this opportunity is acted on, you’re going to have more families like the Jones’s. You’re going to have more Esther Mbotos. You’re going to have more Kim Tates. The love will be multiplied – the love from God to, yes, the messy church, and, indeed, to the mother church, and, most certainly, to our church too.
Amen.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Text: Psalm 23
Theme: “A Closer Look at The 23rd Psalm”
4th Sunday of
Easter
April 29, 2012
First
Presbyterian Church
Rev. Paul R.
Dunklau
+In
the Name of Jesus+
A psalm of David.
1
The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
3 he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
for his name’s sake.
4 Even though I walk
through the darkest valley,[a]
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
3 he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
for his name’s sake.
4 Even though I walk
through the darkest valley,[a]
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
5
You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
6 Surely your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD
forever.
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
6 Surely your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD
forever.
There
you have it: Psalm 23! It ranks as one of the most well-known and
dearly loved selections from the Holy Bible.
It is in the public domain. God
holds the copyright, but there is no charge for its use. And this, if nothing else, reinforces the
fact that it is a gift! Since it is a
gift, the first thought -- as we take a closer look at it -- would be to thank
God for inspiring David to write it.
Even
crass secularists conclude that it's an amazing snippet of writing. Some Bible commentaries think it is too hot
to handle (like some sort of literary nitro-glycerin), so they gloss over
it. Others treat it like a cadaver; they
seek to analyze it and dissect it and break it down into its component
parts. Whatever the case, it has been
called "The Shepherd's Psalm".
If
anyone knew what it meant to be a shepherd, it was David. He was the little shepherd-boy, the youngest
of his siblings and the least likely candidate, who was plucked from the fields
and his fathers' sheep to be the King of Israel. This is the David, fearless in the extreme,
who stuck a smooth stone in his slingshot and brought down that Philistine
giant Goliath. Even he, the apple of God's eye, needed a
shepherd. He acknowledged -- right off
the bat in the first verse -- that he, like all of us, required the sustenance
and guidance that only a good shepherd could provide. Without such good gifts, the sheep are left
on their own -- and, thus, to their own
devices. They run off willy-nilly; they
get lost, and, as any newspaper report would make plain, they face a nasty
world. There are lots of wolves out
there, and some of them are in sheep's clothing.
David
puts to use the personal name of God. In
Hebrew, it is Yahweh. In English, it is Lord. "The Lord is my
shepherd." It's not, "The Lord
was my shepherd, and now I'm running things on my own." Neither is it this: "The Lord will be my shepherd, once I
decide to become one of His sheep."
The past and the future are of no regard here, for it's all about what
is happening now: "The Lord IS my
shepherd."
Applying
Psalm 23 to ourselves, therefore, would make us sheep. My first recollection of sheep takes me back,
in my memory, to Uncle Ewald's farm in Arlington, Nebraska. He had sheep that would at times go out in
the pasture, and then they would return to the barnyard. I recall that they were noisy little critters
who left messes all over the place that
you had to be careful not to step into.
At first thought, the idea of being a metaphorical sheep is crude and
revolting. But then I recall that I,
too, am a noisy little critter who has left more messes in the world that I can
count. Perhaps if I can get beyond my
enlightened pride, I'll welcome the characterization of being a sheep.
"The
Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing," says David. The old King James version has it: "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not
want." That's a rather gregarious thing
to say: "I lack nothing" and
"I shall not want." Most
folks, nowadays, constantly think about what they lack and what they want. They think of what they lack in economic
terms: money and security. They think of what they lack physically: health and vitality. They think of what they lack
spiritually: they wonder just where in
the heck God is (if he/she/it is even there at all). God is only good insofar
as God fills in for what we lack as we have determined it. Better yet, three cheers for God if He gives
us what we want. Thus,
in place of David's gregarious claim ("I lack nothing"), they put in
its place a sense of entitlement:
"The Lord is my shepherd; I am entitled to everything." The human spirit does tend to be extremist --
and sometimes even in the extreme.
David, with the Lord being His shepherd, was content. There is a secret
to being content, but that's a topic for another sermon.
Next
up is verse two: "He (the good
shepherd) makes me lie down in green pastures." But what if we don't want to lie down in
green pastures? There may be fire ants. It sure sounds like the Lord is a control
freak: "He MAKES me lie down in
green pastures." Well, think of the
opposite of this: "He suggests that
I stand up in a desolate wilderness" -- all alone with no food, no
sustenance, no nourishment, no rest.
Given all that our lives are (and what we've made them out to be),
"green pastures" sounds like a wonderful alternative. I'm all in for the "green
pastures"!
"He
leads me beside quiet waters," says David.
Think, again, of the opposite of that -- which, in this case, would be a
tsunami. A tsunami suggests wide-spread,
destructive waters. "Still waters"
evokes peace and serenity and the healthy quenching of thirst.
Then comes
this: "He (the Lord) restores my
soul." God doesn't affirm it. He doesn't improve it. He doesn't fine tune it. He doesn't bandage it. He
restores it. C.S. Lewis once described
the human soul as a house with a leaky pipe.
God is called upon as the plumber to come and fix the leak. But the owner of the house soon discovers
that God is not only repairing the pipe.
God -- to the shock, dismay, and eventual joy of the owner -- is
restoring the entire house. He intends
to come and live there Himself.
"He
leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake," the psalm goes
on. There is a whiff of covenant thinking here --
which true blue Presbyterians, of course, will love. Even though the sheep -- God's people -- carried
on as if God was not their shepherd; even though they traveled paths that could
not, in any way, be called righteous; even though they did not keep up their
end of the agreement, God would not renege on His part of the bargain. God is true to His name. Therefore, God the good shepherd leads his
sheep in paths of righteousness. Your
being here today is a prime example of that.
Now,
sit back, straighten up your spine, and hold on for this one: "Even though I walk through the valley
of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and
your staff they comfort me."
The
brutal honesty of this statement is what strikes me the most. David is not in denial. He doesn't gloss over the realities of death,
the shadow of death, and of evil in this world.
Without the Lord as our shepherd, it makes perfect sense to slap a coat
of metaphorical paint on the surface of death and evil. It makes it look so much better when we
rationalize these things away. The
alternative to denial is having, as David said, the Lord's "rod" and
"staff" and comfort.
Verse
5: "You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies." The
thought here is that the enemies of God's people, our enemies, in whatever form
they take, will one day watch as we get to go to the party, to the feast, to
the table. That's what's so precious
about the Lord's Supper; it gives us a little sample -- a foretaste, if you
will -- of that great celebration that will one day be ours.
"You
anoint my head with oil," says David.
To "anoint" is to consecrate or to set apart for God's
purposes. For we Christians, there are
hints of Baptism in this. We don't do
shotgun baptisms with a hose in an attempt to get the entire crowd wet. Instead, it is done one at a time. God loves the whole world, to be sure. But in your anointing, in your Baptism, His
claim is not upon the world but upon you.
God loves you because you are you.
And
your "cup overflows"! In the
garden of Gethsemane on the night before He died, Jesus prayed that the cup be
taken from him. It was the cup of God's
wrath and righteous anger over human sin.
It was that "cup", that "cup of foaming wine
well-mixed" (as the prophet said) that, in Jesus passion and death, He
drank down to the dregs in your place.
He drank the kool-aid that kills so that your cup might overflow with
blessing.
"Indeed,
good loving-kindness (that's the exact translation) shall chase after me all my
days”(again, that's the exact translation).
That's what you're worth to God -- worth chasing after. God, forgive us for all the times we play
hide and seek with your good loving-kindness.
Let us be caught by it!
Finally
this: "I will dwell in the house of
the Lord forever," says King David.
These are the words of man who knew, ultimately, that he was going
home. It's all because he had a good
shepherd. In Jesus Christ, that Son of
David who was crucified and rose the grave, we do too. And home is where we're headed. Let us pray:
O Lord, support
us all the day long of this troubled life,
Until the shadows
lengthen
And the evening
comes
And the busy
world is hushed,
The fever of life
is over,
And our work is
done.
Then, Lord, in
Your mercy, grant us a safe lodging
And a holy rest
And peace at the
last;
Through Jesus
Christ, our Good Shepherd and our Lord.
Amen.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Errata
Dear Friends...
Here's a a smidge -- maybe more than a smidge! -- of this, that, and the other thing. First off, thanks to BL Jordan for gracing the First Presbyterian pulpit this past Sunday. I've known BL and her husband Ray for nearly seven years, and they're the kind of people that personify that "salt" and "light" of which our Lord spoke.
Now, the reason for my absence was,essentially, a trip to the annual MoRanch Men's Conference in the Texas hill country. While there, this past Saturday, I gave my "Bucket List" workshop, and we had roughly 25% of the over 400 participants come to the MoRanch "Cow Barn" to listen to me lapse into my Jack Nicholson imitation! The hour included clips from the movie that put a lump in one's throat. (If you don't get a lump, you may not have a throat!) Nicholson gave the "money" line in the movie: "He saved my life. And he knew it before I did." Is that not what the Christian says of Jesus?
A week from today I ventured to the restaurant of my friend, Curtis Wells, in Roanoke. The MoRanch adventure started there with a gourmet breakfast. (The Classic Cafe is the restaurant.) Then I rode down to "The Bunkhouse" at Wenmoh's ranch with Curtis in his Jaguar, and it was great to renew that great friendship with robust conversation. At Wenmoh's, I got hearty briefings on the various goings on in the lives of old friends from my St. Andrew days. We sent swimming, had our fill of barbeque, and enjoyed cigars under the stars.
On Friday, we headed for MoRanch. I rode with Mark Replogle. We stopped at a winery or two -- only to be disappointed that the "Texas" wine was not from Texas grapes. Fear not, I drank vitamin water and lemonade! Then we lunched at Altdorf's (a German biergarten-esque type restaurant) in Fredericksburg.
Arriving at Wenmoh's, I enjoyed the keynote address by the Rev. Dr. Tom Long (rated one of the top ten preachers in the country) on the question of evil in the world. A second session offered his thoughts on how Christianity is losing its "vocabulary". An unexpected and pleasant surprise was the talk given, on Saturday night, by Tim Brown. Brown, a winner of the coveted Heisman trophy at Notre Dame, went on to a stellar career with the Oakland Raiders. You could have heard a pin drop when he talked about his friend, Junior Seau, who took his own life. All things considered, these haven't been easy days for the NFL -- what with Seau's death and the ongoing problems with the Saints organization. Late at night, a number of us went out to "The Labyrinth" at MoRanch and walked its path. It was an interesting experience. Walking a labyrinth, I thought, was sort of an energetic way of praying a rosary -- or something like that. Instead, I felt as though it illustrated the idea of human life being a journey (of some sort). Once I turned "toward home" (the middle of the labyrinth where the path ends), I ran and skidded into. When the day of my death comes, that's the way I want to "go out". I want to be able to meet my judge/redeemer, with skidmarks on my knees, and say: "Lord, that was quite a ride!"
Oh, and before I forget, I got a speeding ticket leaving MoRanch on Sunday morning. I think I was in a hurry to get home or something. I don't mind a weekend of "male bonding", but there was no golf and I missed my wife, home, and church (that is, you guys)! Speaking of golf, I was thrilled that Rickie Fowler won at Quail Hollow. Along with Bubba Watson and others, he lives his Christian faith on the very public "stage" of the PGA tour.
On Monday, my LA Fitness trainer put me through the ringer with an intense upper-body workout (my punishment, apparently, for being out of town). Then, on Tuesday, I was honored to deliver the invocation at the annual Salvation Army luncheon at Oakmont Country Club. They put your scribe at the VIP table -- always a risky proposition! But I behaved, and I enjoyed chatting with the Mayor Mark Burroughs of Denton and Bill Lively. Bill headed up the fund-raising committee for the 2011 Super Bowl at Cowboys stadium.
Now, safely ensconsed behind my laptop in the office, I'm looking forward to being with you Sunday. It will be a banner day because we are receiving new members -- and the worship will include TWO baptisms!
The season of Easter just keeps crackling along with messages and activities that strengthen the human spirit by the power of the Holy Spirit (which is the Spirit of the risen Jesus Christ). See you Sunday -- or online.
Your Friend,
Paul R. Dunklau
Here's a a smidge -- maybe more than a smidge! -- of this, that, and the other thing. First off, thanks to BL Jordan for gracing the First Presbyterian pulpit this past Sunday. I've known BL and her husband Ray for nearly seven years, and they're the kind of people that personify that "salt" and "light" of which our Lord spoke.
Now, the reason for my absence was,essentially, a trip to the annual MoRanch Men's Conference in the Texas hill country. While there, this past Saturday, I gave my "Bucket List" workshop, and we had roughly 25% of the over 400 participants come to the MoRanch "Cow Barn" to listen to me lapse into my Jack Nicholson imitation! The hour included clips from the movie that put a lump in one's throat. (If you don't get a lump, you may not have a throat!) Nicholson gave the "money" line in the movie: "He saved my life. And he knew it before I did." Is that not what the Christian says of Jesus?
A week from today I ventured to the restaurant of my friend, Curtis Wells, in Roanoke. The MoRanch adventure started there with a gourmet breakfast. (The Classic Cafe is the restaurant.) Then I rode down to "The Bunkhouse" at Wenmoh's ranch with Curtis in his Jaguar, and it was great to renew that great friendship with robust conversation. At Wenmoh's, I got hearty briefings on the various goings on in the lives of old friends from my St. Andrew days. We sent swimming, had our fill of barbeque, and enjoyed cigars under the stars.
On Friday, we headed for MoRanch. I rode with Mark Replogle. We stopped at a winery or two -- only to be disappointed that the "Texas" wine was not from Texas grapes. Fear not, I drank vitamin water and lemonade! Then we lunched at Altdorf's (a German biergarten-esque type restaurant) in Fredericksburg.
Arriving at Wenmoh's, I enjoyed the keynote address by the Rev. Dr. Tom Long (rated one of the top ten preachers in the country) on the question of evil in the world. A second session offered his thoughts on how Christianity is losing its "vocabulary". An unexpected and pleasant surprise was the talk given, on Saturday night, by Tim Brown. Brown, a winner of the coveted Heisman trophy at Notre Dame, went on to a stellar career with the Oakland Raiders. You could have heard a pin drop when he talked about his friend, Junior Seau, who took his own life. All things considered, these haven't been easy days for the NFL -- what with Seau's death and the ongoing problems with the Saints organization. Late at night, a number of us went out to "The Labyrinth" at MoRanch and walked its path. It was an interesting experience. Walking a labyrinth, I thought, was sort of an energetic way of praying a rosary -- or something like that. Instead, I felt as though it illustrated the idea of human life being a journey (of some sort). Once I turned "toward home" (the middle of the labyrinth where the path ends), I ran and skidded into. When the day of my death comes, that's the way I want to "go out". I want to be able to meet my judge/redeemer, with skidmarks on my knees, and say: "Lord, that was quite a ride!"
Oh, and before I forget, I got a speeding ticket leaving MoRanch on Sunday morning. I think I was in a hurry to get home or something. I don't mind a weekend of "male bonding", but there was no golf and I missed my wife, home, and church (that is, you guys)! Speaking of golf, I was thrilled that Rickie Fowler won at Quail Hollow. Along with Bubba Watson and others, he lives his Christian faith on the very public "stage" of the PGA tour.
On Monday, my LA Fitness trainer put me through the ringer with an intense upper-body workout (my punishment, apparently, for being out of town). Then, on Tuesday, I was honored to deliver the invocation at the annual Salvation Army luncheon at Oakmont Country Club. They put your scribe at the VIP table -- always a risky proposition! But I behaved, and I enjoyed chatting with the Mayor Mark Burroughs of Denton and Bill Lively. Bill headed up the fund-raising committee for the 2011 Super Bowl at Cowboys stadium.
Now, safely ensconsed behind my laptop in the office, I'm looking forward to being with you Sunday. It will be a banner day because we are receiving new members -- and the worship will include TWO baptisms!
The season of Easter just keeps crackling along with messages and activities that strengthen the human spirit by the power of the Holy Spirit (which is the Spirit of the risen Jesus Christ). See you Sunday -- or online.
Your Friend,
Paul R. Dunklau
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