Constructive Faith

Blessed Rabbi,
our week began with hosannas and palms…
And then we went our separate ways
tending to bored children on vacations…
Frantically completing our taxes…
Dealing with the mundane…
While your story continues in Jerusalem…
With growing tension…
And mounting danger.
It is in this context…
This moment ripe with the new Kingdom…
Imperiled by the eruptions of the old
that we gather
to listen once again to the proclamation
to live as if the revolution had been won…
For it had been, has been, will be
in the timelessness of God’s will…
Gather our hearts to this moment…
And all that is within it.
Amen.

 

Creator God,
we throw out words that are meant to capture your essence…
We call you infinite, immortal, timeless…
We describe you as omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent…
But these are just words
pointing to what is beyond our knowing.
Yet even as you are beyond us,
you were with us in Jesus
felt like us
loved and cried and raged and died
and then
with love spilling past the boundaries of death
you are alive again
as we are alive again
and will be alive again.
Gather us in love,
gather us to your divine mysterious self.
Amen.

Four planes took off that morning. One was different than the others… Flight 93 sat on the tarmac for 45 minutes placing that at half hour behind the other three aircraft. It carried less than its normal load. It flew with only 20% of its normal number of passengers. This may well have come to play a role, as the tendency of crowds not to act may have factored into the eventual outcome. And finally, it was one hijacker short — the missing “muscle” hijacker having been turned away at the border as the customs agent, looking at the small amount of cash and the one-way ticket, decided that the individual was likely to become an illegal immigrant. So on September 11, 2001, when three aircraft were used as weapons of mass destruction, the fourth aircraft failed to reach its target. Continue reading “A Sermon Sketch for Lent 5”

The following texts are a communal prayer of confession followed by an assurance of pardon.

God of Life,

we are baffled by the mystery of our existence,
and so we obsess about the thin line
between life and death.
We fill our screens with the undead,
the living dead,
the murderous and murdered.
Our highways are marked with fragile memorials,
our cars are rolling tombstones.
We confess our unholy obsession,
praying for your forgiveness,
as we seek to embrace new life.
Amen. Continue reading “Zombie Prayer”

Note: I preach in a variety of styles, from traditional text behind a pulpit to no-notes and walking about. An intermediate style begins with a short sketch, though I often wander away from the text during delivery. The following sketch is prepared for the March 23 service and reflects on Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well.It is a continuation of an informal Lenten theme. Under the rubric “something must die in order for something to live,” this sermon will focus on the need for our divisions and prejudices to die that we might know new life. 

Several options when approaching this text

Popular option to focus on Jesus dismissing his disciples in order to have an exchange with a woman in public, variously interpreted through feminist lens and as an active transgression

This is a red herring. Text is loaded with symbols that would have been obvious to the reader of that period but are largely lost on us. For example, the number of husbands woman at the well has supposedly had is a reference to the Judean concept of the wicked Samaritan — the construction of the Samaritan as the other. In our postmodern age and with eyes open to the historical context we understand that the rivalry between the community centered on Jerusalem and the remnant in the conquered northern kingdom plays an important role in understanding the text. More on that later. Continue reading “On Jesus and the Samaritan Woman”

Merciful God,
we confess that we do business with false gods,
that we get swept up in hype and marketing,
that we run after a dream that is not yours.
Yet here we are,
humbled,
returning to you.
Fill us with your spirit and with your truth.
Purge us of idols and cleanse our hearts. Amen.

Silence

The poet Gerard Manley Hopkins reminds us that the world is charged with the grandeur of God. With that grandeur, our Creator reminds us that we are more than what we make, more than we can dream. Our God calls us through the beauty of this creation. Hear the good news of God’s forgiveness and be at peace. Amen.

Note: I preach in a variety of styles, from traditional text behind a pulpit to no-notes and walking about. An intermediate style begins with a short sketch, though I often wander away from the text during delivery. The following sketch is prepared for the March 16 service with the lectionary reading focusing on Nicodemus.

Most of us were forced to read T.S. Eliot’s classic poem The Wasteland in high school, long before we had the maturity or skill to interpret this complicated text by a well educated and experienced poet.

Often, Eliot’s work is interpreted as depressing, the complaint of a morose observer in a bleak time. This interpretation misses something fundamental in Eliot’s masterpiece. The Wasteland is a modern and poetic retelling of the Fisher King story found in the Arthurian legend, itself an interpretation of ancient and often pagan rituals and myths related to fertility and life.

Rather than a depressing tale of life in the early 20th century, The Wasteland is a story of hope, for it ends with rain and birth. The wasteland is restored. The land that was barren due to the infertile king, pierced in the groin, is once again fertile. Continue reading “Nicodemus, Eliot and Blood”

The following rite was composed using traditional forms. Please note that the witnesses listed near the end of the Communion prayer change monthly. This is the rite we use most frequently and services, though there is a second rite in which the people speak the words of institution which is also used.

Communion Prayer

O Divine Mystery we name as God, it is right and proper that we should come together as your people to offer you thanks and praise, acknowledging our utter dependence on you. In holy creativity you wrote a new story, calling the world into being, choreographing the dance of the atom, composing cosmic symphonies. In the story of the Hebrew people, we hear our own story, slowly discovering a world charged with your grace and glory, and growing in faith. Through the prophets, we draw closer to your way of life and love. In the surprising story of Jesus, we encounter you as God-with-us, we are drawn to your light, and with Jesus we are crucified and resurrected into new life, knowing that sin and death will never have the final word, for he is your Word, spoken to us and for us. We look forward to his coming again. Through the power of the Holy Spirit, we are bound in covenant one to another and to a common cause, to see your will be done in our world.

We thank you for the church historical and universal, and raise our voices in prayerful thanks for all who have served the common good, servants of love, those who have followed the Way of Jesus, and those who have followed other paths. We thank you for Pierre Teilhard de Chardin and for the prophet Amos, for Harriet Tubman and for Benedict of Nursia, for all who spoke and speak God’s challenging word, do God’s challenging bidding. Joining our song with theirs, with choirs of angels and saints, we boldly proclaim your praise: Continue reading “Communion Prayer, Words of Institution and Consecration”

Blessed Savior,
We confess our silence.
When hatred is taught in your name,
we are mute.
When the vulnerable are abandoned,
our tongues are stopped.
When greed and racism overwhelm us,
we politely change the subject.
Forgive us.
Give us courage.
Make us yours.
Amen.

Silence

We can drown in a sea of grief, weighed down by our guilt and sins. Or we can believe the good news, that in Christ there is forgiveness and new life. You are forgiven and called. Be the people of God. Amen.

Blessed Creator,
Your work is charged with holy imagination,
with fierce beauty,
with order and chaos.
And here we are –
yours,
fierce and beautiful,
ordered chaos,
chaotic order.
Be with us in our silences
and in our whirlwinds
in our gathering
and in our departing. Amen.