Constructive Faith

a sermon delivered on January 15th, 2012 at Sayville Congregational United Church of Christ

Scholar John Dominic Crossan stated the problem succinctly when it comes to how we interpret the Bible. Either the ancients wrote a text they believed to be literally true, and many of us are smart enough to read it symbolically; or, the ancients wrote a text they believed to be symbolically true, and many of us are dumb enough to take it literally. Crossan believes the latter. I tend to think it is somewhere in between, the ancients realizing parts were true and parts symbolic, and that many contemporary American Christians are unable to admit to themselves and the world that they are choosing which parts are symbolic and which are literal. Continue reading “Monkey-Soul-A-Phobia”

It is not uncommon for folks, on learning that I am a Christian minister, to say to me something like this: “Well, all paths lead to the same place.” I usually politely nod, move on to other topics. But I don’t really believe it.

As we begin our three week sermon series on “Lessons Learned from Other Religions,” I thought it might be helpful to clarify how we use the term “universalist,” and why I am specifically a Christian. Continue reading “On Being 2/3 Universalist”

It is very old, primordial, this fear of the dark, this ancient human fear of what is unknown. It is the salt in the soup of our souls, this desire to know, to explore, to illuminate, and to hate what is obscured. Dylan Thomas advises us: “Do not go gentle into that good night,” further advising us to “Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” Death and birth, ignorance and knowledge, these are tropes, figures that transcend any single culture, the raging at the dark seen in our ritual candle lighting, in the bonfires of the ancients. And here, in the long dark of winter, we celebrate light. Continue reading “Dusk: January 8, 2012”

Despite the hullabaloo in Times Square last night, the vast amounts of alcohol consumed, the soon-to-be broken resolutions that were made, despite all of this, this day is no different than any other day. Yes, we mark the end of the secular year, which for purposes of historical dating makes a difference, as we will remember the next few weeks every time we mistakenly write 2011. And we will close the financial books, some starting to gather information for their taxes while others drag their feet until April 14th. But for many, the “year” starts at other times. Our Jewish brothers and sisters started their year some months ago. Communist China and people that share the Chinese cultural heritage have a different New Year. Twelve month a year Christians marked the beginning of the year with the start of Advent, in a cycle that is meant to loosely re-create the narrative arc of Christ’s life. And nine month a year Christians marked the start of the year with the beginning of the academic year.

So, it is one more day, really, as good a time as any to reflect and plan. Continue reading “New Year’s Homily: To plant and to pluck, to gather and to throw”

Okay… three homilies in 24 hours, each slightly different but on the same basic theme… hmmm….

Here they are:

Family Service: One Holy Night

On this night, and in fact during this entire season we view as unique and holy, much of the world puts its normal routines on hold. We gather with family, even that crazy uncle we’d like to pretend wasn’t related to us. Some will enter Christian houses of worship after many months, sometimes years, away. We celebrate our Savior’s birth, or at least go through the routine of celebrating that birth, even if we give salvation little or no thought for most of the year. We declare this to be one holy night. Continue reading “Christmas Homilies”

Preparations for Christmastide are going well. I’ve written an original script for our brown-bag pageant called “Meanwhile in Hollywood,” have both Christmas Eve services ready, and am now working on our informal Christmas morning “pajamas” service. This is the prayer we will use to open that morning.

Brother Jesus, you came to us in love, closing the gap between the divine, the quantum swirling mysterious Creativity that calls the world into being. You shared in our humanness, and marked us forever with your holiness. In your life you taught us how to be fully human, how to align our lives with God’s great purpose, how to boldly proclaim God’s just and caring realm. In your death you showed us how to come to our own ends, and in your resurrection you taught us that the forces of sin, evil and death will not triumph. But this day, this holy day, we recall the various stories your followers used to understand how you came into the world, unique, Emmanuel, God-with-us. Bless this gathering, reminding us always that we are people of the promise walking along the Way, together in love. Amen.

There was once a pastor who was settling in quite nicely into the pulpit of a church he had served for three years. He loved his new community, had made great friends, and had benefited from the wisdom of several of the congregation’s elders. One particular gentleman, we’ll call him Wallace, had been a deacon many times over, had even served on the search committee that had selected the pastor, and was especially cherished. So it broke the pastor’s heart when he noticed Wallace falling asleep during the sermon. And not just falling asleep, falling asleep there in the front pew, where everybody could see the head nod, hear the gentle snore. The pastor was determined to make his sermons more interesting, spent hours tweaking, all to no avail. Finally it dawned on him… maybe it wasn’t the sermons. Wallace was getting up in years, maybe there was a health problem. And like a good pastor, he switched into care mode, gently dropping hints, and finally just coming right out and asking Wallace if there was a health issue they could address in prayer. No, Wallace assured the pastor, everything was just spiffy. Continue reading “Path to Peace”

Used as the Prayer of Confession on Advent 2

Our lives hum along,
the hum of dozens of electronic devices,
the capacitors of our lives holding us captive,
the hum of our tires on the road as we zip about,
free to drive and trapped in our driven-ness.
Our lives are musical,
the music of ringtones demanding,
interrupting our concentration,
the music of jingles designed to fuel our need,
the squawking heads of desire.

Amidst all this noice,
this captivity and squawking,
you come,
Our Savior and Our God.

Forgive us our willingness to be held captive,
and grant us your liberation,
grant us your peace,
for we know you still call,
still call,
always calling us to peace,
to freedom,
to reconciliation. Amen.

Sometimes life just sort of, well… sometimes life sucks. Let’s face it, the economy is in the toilet, people are going hungry. Any wealth that is produced gets re-directed to support the extravagant lifestyles of the elite, or worst, ends up overseas in the hands of our enemies, folks who suppress our religion. The bickering between various factions of our own religion is out of control, everyone claiming they are right and everyone else is condemned. Civil discourse is uncivil, and if you dare speak out against the ruling class, you’re likely to be beaten and tortured. The idea that we are somehow blessed by God is suspect… things around here sure don’t look blessed. And don’t get me started about the guy in charge. Quite a few question whether he is even legitimate. There are just far too many questions… I mean, who died and made him a god? Being posthumously adopted by his Uncle Julius does not really qualify. Can we impeach Augustus Caesar? Continue reading “Extreme Hoarders: Salvation Edition”

I am much too young to remember, of course, but some of you are, shall we say, chronologically-gifted, so you will remember when the Beatles released their Abbey Road album. On the cover of the album is a photograph of the band crossing the aforementioned road, and Paul McCartney alone is barefoot. This combined with a carefully planned hoax lead to rumors that McCartney was dead, replaced by a double. Of course, as we now know, he was not dead, still is not dead, has already outlived two of his bandmates and has accumulated a few extra wives along the way. He is not the first nor will he be the last celebrity to deal with premature rumors of his demise. In fact, the grandest premature death notice was issued in 1882, when Friedrich Nietzsche declared that God was dead. For the record, I believe that one was wrong too. Continue reading “Plunge”