I have been remiss in my blog posting of late. I would love to say it's because I've been too busy, but really it's not hard to make time to blog. The last couple of weeks I've been traveling and sans computer (as my macbook went to Apple Heaven, or at least purgatory, and my new one has not yet arrived) so it's been harder than usual, but still...
I suspect I've not been blogging because a) there are so many things going on inside my head, and b) it's a lot of work to figure out what I can and can't post here.
Having said that, it's been a good couple of months. The fall has gone beautifully here and we are headed for winter. Advent is upon us. People keep asking for my Christmas wishes--my Amazon list is up to date and my preferred gift cards are: Borders, Trader Joe's, Ann Taylor/Ann Taylor Loft, and Costco. I'm giving to Heifer again this year instead of gifts to everyone I know. Last year I got a water buffalo (!) but this year I think I'm going with a goat, a flock of ducks/geese, and some bees. The picture of the Kenyan woman with a baby goat in the catalog was so adorable it swayed me from my favorite farm animal!
Last night I went to a concert sponsored by WorldVision: The Watoto Children's Choir. They are truly amazing children with amazing stories. They sang and danced, they gave testimony, they told their life stories, and they were fantastic. The concert was free, but we were encouraged to sponsor a child. I've been contemplating sponsoring and I think I might do that at last--I've been sort of holding out for some way to sponsor Middle Eastern children, but that is not forthcoming. African it is...
I must get some work done so I can go to the grocery store and home to play with my kitties! I have three meetings next week that are a 45-minute-each-way drive away from here, so I have to be very efficient in my time. ha!
also, for your information: "Just Jane" is only a so-so book. It's a novel about the life of Jane Austen. It's written entirely in the first person and I find that mildly irritating. That's all.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Here We Go Again--a sermon for Christ the King Sunday, year C
Rev. Teri Peterson
Ridgefield-Crystal Lake Presbyterian Church
Here We Go Again
November 25 2007—Christ the King C
Luke 1.68-79
‘Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
for he has looked favorably on his people and redeemed them.
He has raised up a mighty savior for us
in the house of his servant David,
as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,
that we would be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us.
Thus he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors,
and has remembered his holy covenant,
the oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham,
to grant us that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies,
might serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness
before him all our days.
And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,
to give knowledge of salvation to his people
by the forgiveness of their sins.
By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have some confessions to make today. First, I have to tell you that I am somewhat cynical when it comes to matters of capitalism, consumer culture, materialism, and mass marketing. Second, I have to tell you that I spent 14 hours at Disneyland while I was visiting family in California last week, and I loved every single minute of being there. In spite of the blatant marketing to children, in spite of the consumerist mindset, in spite of the excess, it truly is a magical place and I was definitely swept up in the Disney holiday magic. It’s a Small World was lavishly decorated, the rides were fun, the food was good, the level of detail was impressive, the Castle was covered in snow and twinkling lights—even though it was 70 degrees and sunny.
I’ve been to Disneyland before—once before, to be precise—20, or possibly 21, years ago this Christmas. My brother was so young he was in a stroller, and now he’s 21 years old. All I remember about that trip is getting a red Mickey hat with my name embroidered on the back. So this time, when my brother and I walked through those front gates, we were like little kids all over again. We ran and skipped and frolicked, we waited in lines, we made jokes, we rode rides, we explored nearly every inch of both Disney parks in those 14 hours. Though we had been there before, the whole thing seemed new, it was like it was our first time.
Now I know you’re sitting there thinking “well, you were very small children and it was a long time ago” and that’s true. But it’s also true that this kind of thing happens to us all the time. We return to things we have done before and they seem new. And there are some things where perhaps it should happen, but instead we come to the place or the time of year and it all seems old-hat, like nothing new could ever happen.
That’s a little like how I feel about Christ the King Sunday. This is a weird Sunday—it doesn’t always appear in the liturgical calendar, but most years it’s the Sunday after Thanksgiving. It’s the last Sunday in the church year—sort of a liturgical New Year’s Eve. As I’m sure many of you know, our liturgical calendar begins with Advent, moves through Christmas and Epiphany, Lent and Easter, Pentecost and Ordinary Time, bringing us to Christ the King Sunday, and each season has a color and often a theme. Our calendar uses a three-year cycle of Scripture readings, and today marks the last day in this cycle. Next Sunday we are in Advent, a new year has begun. But this Sunday we are on the cusp of the cycle, waiting for the dawn. Normally we would be talking about how Christ is King of our lives, or how God is more powerful than any human monarch, or some other sort of regal topic. Sometimes we read crucifixion stories and hear about God’s love breaking human power. It’s the same theme every year, and this is my fifth time in a row preaching it, and after a while it just feels old, like we’ve been here before. I imagine that’s how many of us feel, year after year, as we approach Christmas and its attendant consumer joys. Here we go again…didn’t we just do this? Haven’t we bought all the presents by now? Haven’t we heard the story a hundred times before?
Poet T. S. Eliot writes:
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.[1]
Yes, we have done it a hundred times before. Time does not in fact march ever onward. The seasons, the clocks, the calendar, and the church year show us what time really is—a circle. We repeat the cycle because there is such value in hearing the story again, in returning to the place where we started. Remembering is an important thing, and it’s what our liturgical calendar helps us to do. It’s not just a way to move from green to purple to white decorations, it’s a way to remind us what God has done and to open our eyes to what God is still doing, to be formed by God’s story. Because, of course, you can’t really go home again, can you? The circle may actually be more like a spiral—we return to the same place but we know it for the first time. There is something new waiting for us around this bend.
Zechariah sings about remembering—about remembering God’s promises, being reminded of the covenant. God has looked favorably on the people and we too have remembered the covenant. But it’s not only about remembering. There is a forward part of the circle, too—as Eliot says, we shall not cease from exploration. Zechariah’s son, John, will go before the Lord, will prepare the way. The dawn from on high will break upon us to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace. However dark things are in the last part of the circle, light comes again. The shadow death casts is long. When you are sitting in its darkness, dawn seems impossible. When you live in a world like ours, ways of peace seem unlikely. But this dawn is not just the usual spinning of the earth on its axis, this is God breaking into our cycle, this is the dawn from on high—the dawn to which we return year after year…always to find it as though it is the first time.
Our faith tradition leads us each year to a new old thing. Some people lately have taken to calling Christianity an Ancient-Future faith, or to calling themselves an Ancient-Future church. Whenever I hear this, I wonder where the present is—what about now? But I also think there’s something right about this. We arrive where we started, and we know the place for the first time. We hear new things in old stories, we sing old songs with new words, we practice an ancient faith in a forward-looking world.
On this last day of the liturgical calendar, we are pointed toward Advent but, like any other New Year’s Eve, we are looking back as well. We look back on a year walking with Jesus through the gospel of Luke and forward to a year in Matthew’s gospel, we look back on God’s promises and forward into Advent looking anew at the promise of light for the world, we look back on all God has done for us and forward at the beginning of all things with a Word, and we look again for the coming of the true King. Zechariah has broken his silence, John is preparing the way, and we journey again toward God’s vision of light and peace. Though we have been here before, we will once again know it for the first time. There is something magical about it—about the waiting and the singing and the images, about living the story over and over. We thought we knew it, but our memories have gaps that exploring the circle can fill, we’ve missed things before, and God has new things to say even using the old stories and songs.
You may notice that this service seems a little different than some. It’s sort of a circle like the liturgical calendar, like my Disney trip, like life. The end is like the beginning, but it’s also different. We can see and hear new things even in the old tunes. We explore together, and we arrive where we started and know it for the first time, this time in the light.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
[1] T. S. Eliot, Four Quartets: Little Gidding, V.
Ridgefield-Crystal Lake Presbyterian Church
Here We Go Again
November 25 2007—Christ the King C
Luke 1.68-79
‘Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
for he has looked favorably on his people and redeemed them.
He has raised up a mighty savior for us
in the house of his servant David,
as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,
that we would be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us.
Thus he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors,
and has remembered his holy covenant,
the oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham,
to grant us that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies,
might serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness
before him all our days.
And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,
to give knowledge of salvation to his people
by the forgiveness of their sins.
By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have some confessions to make today. First, I have to tell you that I am somewhat cynical when it comes to matters of capitalism, consumer culture, materialism, and mass marketing. Second, I have to tell you that I spent 14 hours at Disneyland while I was visiting family in California last week, and I loved every single minute of being there. In spite of the blatant marketing to children, in spite of the consumerist mindset, in spite of the excess, it truly is a magical place and I was definitely swept up in the Disney holiday magic. It’s a Small World was lavishly decorated, the rides were fun, the food was good, the level of detail was impressive, the Castle was covered in snow and twinkling lights—even though it was 70 degrees and sunny.
I’ve been to Disneyland before—once before, to be precise—20, or possibly 21, years ago this Christmas. My brother was so young he was in a stroller, and now he’s 21 years old. All I remember about that trip is getting a red Mickey hat with my name embroidered on the back. So this time, when my brother and I walked through those front gates, we were like little kids all over again. We ran and skipped and frolicked, we waited in lines, we made jokes, we rode rides, we explored nearly every inch of both Disney parks in those 14 hours. Though we had been there before, the whole thing seemed new, it was like it was our first time.
Now I know you’re sitting there thinking “well, you were very small children and it was a long time ago” and that’s true. But it’s also true that this kind of thing happens to us all the time. We return to things we have done before and they seem new. And there are some things where perhaps it should happen, but instead we come to the place or the time of year and it all seems old-hat, like nothing new could ever happen.
That’s a little like how I feel about Christ the King Sunday. This is a weird Sunday—it doesn’t always appear in the liturgical calendar, but most years it’s the Sunday after Thanksgiving. It’s the last Sunday in the church year—sort of a liturgical New Year’s Eve. As I’m sure many of you know, our liturgical calendar begins with Advent, moves through Christmas and Epiphany, Lent and Easter, Pentecost and Ordinary Time, bringing us to Christ the King Sunday, and each season has a color and often a theme. Our calendar uses a three-year cycle of Scripture readings, and today marks the last day in this cycle. Next Sunday we are in Advent, a new year has begun. But this Sunday we are on the cusp of the cycle, waiting for the dawn. Normally we would be talking about how Christ is King of our lives, or how God is more powerful than any human monarch, or some other sort of regal topic. Sometimes we read crucifixion stories and hear about God’s love breaking human power. It’s the same theme every year, and this is my fifth time in a row preaching it, and after a while it just feels old, like we’ve been here before. I imagine that’s how many of us feel, year after year, as we approach Christmas and its attendant consumer joys. Here we go again…didn’t we just do this? Haven’t we bought all the presents by now? Haven’t we heard the story a hundred times before?
Poet T. S. Eliot writes:
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.[1]
Yes, we have done it a hundred times before. Time does not in fact march ever onward. The seasons, the clocks, the calendar, and the church year show us what time really is—a circle. We repeat the cycle because there is such value in hearing the story again, in returning to the place where we started. Remembering is an important thing, and it’s what our liturgical calendar helps us to do. It’s not just a way to move from green to purple to white decorations, it’s a way to remind us what God has done and to open our eyes to what God is still doing, to be formed by God’s story. Because, of course, you can’t really go home again, can you? The circle may actually be more like a spiral—we return to the same place but we know it for the first time. There is something new waiting for us around this bend.
Zechariah sings about remembering—about remembering God’s promises, being reminded of the covenant. God has looked favorably on the people and we too have remembered the covenant. But it’s not only about remembering. There is a forward part of the circle, too—as Eliot says, we shall not cease from exploration. Zechariah’s son, John, will go before the Lord, will prepare the way. The dawn from on high will break upon us to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace. However dark things are in the last part of the circle, light comes again. The shadow death casts is long. When you are sitting in its darkness, dawn seems impossible. When you live in a world like ours, ways of peace seem unlikely. But this dawn is not just the usual spinning of the earth on its axis, this is God breaking into our cycle, this is the dawn from on high—the dawn to which we return year after year…always to find it as though it is the first time.
Our faith tradition leads us each year to a new old thing. Some people lately have taken to calling Christianity an Ancient-Future faith, or to calling themselves an Ancient-Future church. Whenever I hear this, I wonder where the present is—what about now? But I also think there’s something right about this. We arrive where we started, and we know the place for the first time. We hear new things in old stories, we sing old songs with new words, we practice an ancient faith in a forward-looking world.
On this last day of the liturgical calendar, we are pointed toward Advent but, like any other New Year’s Eve, we are looking back as well. We look back on a year walking with Jesus through the gospel of Luke and forward to a year in Matthew’s gospel, we look back on God’s promises and forward into Advent looking anew at the promise of light for the world, we look back on all God has done for us and forward at the beginning of all things with a Word, and we look again for the coming of the true King. Zechariah has broken his silence, John is preparing the way, and we journey again toward God’s vision of light and peace. Though we have been here before, we will once again know it for the first time. There is something magical about it—about the waiting and the singing and the images, about living the story over and over. We thought we knew it, but our memories have gaps that exploring the circle can fill, we’ve missed things before, and God has new things to say even using the old stories and songs.
You may notice that this service seems a little different than some. It’s sort of a circle like the liturgical calendar, like my Disney trip, like life. The end is like the beginning, but it’s also different. We can see and hear new things even in the old tunes. We explore together, and we arrive where we started and know it for the first time, this time in the light.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
[1] T. S. Eliot, Four Quartets: Little Gidding, V.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Sunny SoCal
I'm in Southern California. It's 70 degrees and sunny. I approve.
'puter is in mac hospital. I'll either pick it up fixed on Friday or pick up a new one on Friday. I don't know which yet. If I pick it up fixed and it doesn't stay fixed, then I get a new one for sure--thus sayeth the guy on the phone and several guys in the store. But store guy also said I might have a new one when I get home, so who knows.
DisneyLand tomorrow! I haven't been there in 21 years. I'm kind of excited, like little kid excited, instead of appalled by the consumerism and mass marketing to children. Although, talk to me tomorrow night.... ;-)
Back to the fam....
'puter is in mac hospital. I'll either pick it up fixed on Friday or pick up a new one on Friday. I don't know which yet. If I pick it up fixed and it doesn't stay fixed, then I get a new one for sure--thus sayeth the guy on the phone and several guys in the store. But store guy also said I might have a new one when I get home, so who knows.
DisneyLand tomorrow! I haven't been there in 21 years. I'm kind of excited, like little kid excited, instead of appalled by the consumerism and mass marketing to children. Although, talk to me tomorrow night.... ;-)
Back to the fam....
Friday, November 16, 2007
Apple Care
Apple Care is a good thing. I love my macbook--it's cute and personable and generally does what I want it to do.
It also does some things I don't want it to do--namely, kernel panics. Suddenly, in the middle of formerly harmless activities like sermon writing, blogging, facebook-checking, blog-reading, emailing, playing Scrabulous, listening to iTunes, chatting, etc...
...this screen appears. It's commonly known by me and several other mac users as the "gray (or grey) screen of death." There doesn't appear to be a pattern to the madness. Sometimes I will have 6-10 in a row--including having it happen when I am restarting from another one. This is where AppleCare comes in--it's the service/warranty program that allows me to call or go to the store without paying an arm and a leg each time. I have spoken with the AppleCare people probably 15 times. I've been to the Genius Bar 5 times. One of those times they took my 'puter away and fixed it and gave it back to me 5 days later. I was good for 10 whole days after that! Two of those times I've been at the Genius Bar for more than an hour while they fixed the problem. Every single time I go there, the grey screen of death is elusive. It seems it only happens when there's no Apple Genius nearby.
I have reached the end of my patience with this problem and how it's been "fixed" many times now. It's time for a new computer. That's what I'm going to tell the product specialist I am waiting for now. I've only been on hold 35 minutes so far--that's better than yesterday, when I had to hang up and go to a meeting after an hour and twenty minutes (10 of which I spent talking to the tech support guy who answered the phone, then took pity on me because I've called so many times for the same problem).
I'm putting this on my blog partially for the publicity of a problem and partially so I won't lose my nerve when I finally get a product specialist on the phone. I am not going to send my computer to them, I am not going to go back to the Apple Store so they can take my computer away to be "fixed" again. I want a new one. Something is not right with mine that all the previous repairs have not solved. I am resolved, I am firm...I can do this. Without being mean (you know, I don't want to be "that customer") and hopefully without crying.
Pray for me and my 'puter...and maybe for the Apple guy (or girl) who comes on the phone!
It also does some things I don't want it to do--namely, kernel panics. Suddenly, in the middle of formerly harmless activities like sermon writing, blogging, facebook-checking, blog-reading, emailing, playing Scrabulous, listening to iTunes, chatting, etc...
...this screen appears. It's commonly known by me and several other mac users as the "gray (or grey) screen of death." There doesn't appear to be a pattern to the madness. Sometimes I will have 6-10 in a row--including having it happen when I am restarting from another one. This is where AppleCare comes in--it's the service/warranty program that allows me to call or go to the store without paying an arm and a leg each time. I have spoken with the AppleCare people probably 15 times. I've been to the Genius Bar 5 times. One of those times they took my 'puter away and fixed it and gave it back to me 5 days later. I was good for 10 whole days after that! Two of those times I've been at the Genius Bar for more than an hour while they fixed the problem. Every single time I go there, the grey screen of death is elusive. It seems it only happens when there's no Apple Genius nearby.I have reached the end of my patience with this problem and how it's been "fixed" many times now. It's time for a new computer. That's what I'm going to tell the product specialist I am waiting for now. I've only been on hold 35 minutes so far--that's better than yesterday, when I had to hang up and go to a meeting after an hour and twenty minutes (10 of which I spent talking to the tech support guy who answered the phone, then took pity on me because I've called so many times for the same problem).
I'm putting this on my blog partially for the publicity of a problem and partially so I won't lose my nerve when I finally get a product specialist on the phone. I am not going to send my computer to them, I am not going to go back to the Apple Store so they can take my computer away to be "fixed" again. I want a new one. Something is not right with mine that all the previous repairs have not solved. I am resolved, I am firm...I can do this. Without being mean (you know, I don't want to be "that customer") and hopefully without crying.
Pray for me and my 'puter...and maybe for the Apple guy (or girl) who comes on the phone!
learning stuff
So at Tuesday's interminable-feeling Presbytery meeting, I learned new stuff about polity--namely, how to introduce a substitute motion and what happens after that. I think the Moderator was learning along with the rest of us, but it all went well. Our substitute motion failed, of course, but so did the main motion, so all is well (from my perspective on polity, anyway). Who knew that a Presbytery meeting could be so exciting?
Walter Brueggemann used to mark up all the papers I turned in to him with "don't start a sentence with so!" Obviously I have not learned this lesson. It's a speech quirk that I think is common in my generation, and since I write the way I talk (generally frowned upon in academia), sometimes sentences begin with "so..." Plus, if you are stating a conclusion in an academic paper, wouldn't you be allowed to start a sentence with "so"??
Anyway, that's all for now.
Walter Brueggemann used to mark up all the papers I turned in to him with "don't start a sentence with so!" Obviously I have not learned this lesson. It's a speech quirk that I think is common in my generation, and since I write the way I talk (generally frowned upon in academia), sometimes sentences begin with "so..." Plus, if you are stating a conclusion in an academic paper, wouldn't you be allowed to start a sentence with "so"??
Anyway, that's all for now.
Monday, November 12, 2007
home
The retreat.was.awesome. somewhere between 170-180 people came. The speaker was GREAT. The music was fabulous. The kids were energized and participated well. The setting was beautiful. It was a wonderful time.
Can I use any more superlatives?
It was insanely busy for me, but it was loads of fun. And then I came home and I was very very very tired. So naturally I slept a couple of hours, woke up, ate, and tried to stay awake until a decent hour by watching Buffy. For the first time in over two years, I watched the episodes where Buffy's mom dies (and the aftermath). I survived. It was even kind of good--I was reminded what great work those episodes were, and also learned that I can do it--no need for dread.
But today I am tired, very tired. Work productivity is low, to say the least. And tomorrow is a Presbytery meeting. (joy of joys)
Okay, on to the "stuff I have to do before tomorrow" list!
Can I use any more superlatives?
It was insanely busy for me, but it was loads of fun. And then I came home and I was very very very tired. So naturally I slept a couple of hours, woke up, ate, and tried to stay awake until a decent hour by watching Buffy. For the first time in over two years, I watched the episodes where Buffy's mom dies (and the aftermath). I survived. It was even kind of good--I was reminded what great work those episodes were, and also learned that I can do it--no need for dread.
But today I am tired, very tired. Work productivity is low, to say the least. And tomorrow is a Presbytery meeting. (joy of joys)
Okay, on to the "stuff I have to do before tomorrow" list!
Friday, November 09, 2007
retreat!
I'm off to the Presbytery Senior High Retreat--good times! 169 participants are signed up this year (including adults), so we are looking good. The musicians and speaker are ready, the small groups are planned, the workshops are prepped, the housing situation is ALMOST ready (got some news this morning that means I have to do some re-arranging, but whatever), I'm headed up before everyone else to make sure everything is in readiness....I'm very excited. Lake Geneva, here we come! (and Geneva Java, in the basement of the old First Baptist Church, get ready for me. I'm going to need you!)
Friday 5
Friday 5- extravagant unbusyness....
Sally at RGBP says: I am writing in my official capacity of grump!!! No seriously, with the shops and stores around us filling with Christmas gifts and decorations, the holiday season moving up on us quickly for many the time from Thanksgiving onwards will be spent in a headlong rush towards Christmas with hardly a time to breathe.... I am looking at the possibility of finding little gaps in the day or the week to spend in extravagant unbusyness ( a wonderful phrase coined by fellow revgal Michelle)...
So given those little gaps, name 5 things you would do to;
1.to care for your body
nap.
exercise regularly (ie stop making excuses when the alarm goes off and actually get myself to the gym!)
2. to care for your spirit
nap.
Play with my kitties.
visit my city friends more often.
3. to care for your mind
nap.
read fun books. (I have taken up doing this at the gym so I can, umm, set two birds free with one stone?)
4. to bring a sparkle to your eye
nap.
cook fun things and then eat them!
5. to place a spring in your step
nap.
cook/read/play!
Enjoy the time to indulge and dream.... and then for a bonus which one on the list are you determined to put into action?
I guess I'd better make time for a nap!
So given those little gaps, name 5 things you would do to;
1.to care for your body
nap.
exercise regularly (ie stop making excuses when the alarm goes off and actually get myself to the gym!)
2. to care for your spirit
nap.
Play with my kitties.
visit my city friends more often.
3. to care for your mind
nap.
read fun books. (I have taken up doing this at the gym so I can, umm, set two birds free with one stone?)
4. to bring a sparkle to your eye
nap.
cook fun things and then eat them!
5. to place a spring in your step
nap.
cook/read/play!
Enjoy the time to indulge and dream.... and then for a bonus which one on the list are you determined to put into action?
I guess I'd better make time for a nap!
Saturday, November 03, 2007
"invitation"--a sermon for Ordinary 31C
Rev. Teri Peterson
Ridgefield-Crystal Lake Presbyterian Church
Invitation
Luke 19.1-10
November 4, 2007; Ordinary 31C
Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through it. A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax-collector and was rich. He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, ‘Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.’ So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him. All who saw it began to grumble and said, ‘He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner.’ Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, ‘Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I pay back four times as much.’ Then Jesus said to him, ‘Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.’
All week long I have been walking around singing a song you probably know: “Zacchaeus was a wee little man…” It’s so sad that this is what we remember about Zacchaeus two thousand years later—that he was so short he had to climb a tree to see Jesus. I wonder if what you all will remember about me twenty years from now is that I’m short enough that I need an extra platform in the pulpit so I can stand in here without looking like a child. I would like to think that “short” is not my memorable, song-worthy defining characteristic!
For a short man, Zacchaeus seems to be pretty well-known—at least, people think they know all about him. He’s a tax collector, which means he collaborates with the oppressor, so that must mean that he doesn’t care about his people and that he is power-hungry. He’s rich, so that must mean that he is corrupt. Basically, he’s a sinner. He’s a short-in-stature sinner. What else do we need to know?
Jericho was a fairly large, bustling city. The scene that day might have been rather like a parade—people lining the streets, calling out to Jesus, begging for healing, grasping at his clothes, hoping and praying that will be enough. Parade routes tend to be crowded—I have spent more than my fair share of parades trying to peek through the people to see floats and marching bands—and this road was no exception. Zacchaeus didn’t arrive in time to get a good seat, to spread out his lawn chair and cooler, so he’s peeking through. But it’s not enough—he doesn’t want just a glimpse, he doesn’t want to peek, he wants to see. Something about Jesus has captured his imagination and piqued his curiosity, something has touched him deep enough inside that he is willing to go for a jog and climb a tree. He disregards his status, his nice clothes, his image (which is already tarnished anyway), and runs through the crowd toward the tallest tree he can find. He works pretty hard just to see who Jesus is.
You know those people who stand in line all night to see a new movie, who camp out for concert tickets, who line the red carpet at a movie opening? Zacchaeus is like these hardcore fans, except that they’re not waiting to see the Son of God, and except that Zacchaeus doesn’t even know who Jesus is yet. He knows Jesus is popular, he’s probably heard some teachings, but he couldn’t pick Jesus out of a line-up. He wants to know more, to see this man he’s heard about, and he’s willing to go out on a limb to do it.
I imagine that he’s just gotten up there when Jesus approaches, stops, and calls up the tree to invite himself over. Now, I don’t know about you, but if someone were to invite themselves over to my house on the way out the door at the end of this service, my response would not be the same as Zacchaeus. I might fudge a little, suggest dinner instead of lunch, say “what about tomorrow night?” or remind them that there’s a luncheon at noon that none of us should really miss. My house, especially on days when I preach, is a disaster area. Today there are Operation Christmas Child boxes all over my living room floor, Vegetarian Times magazines all over the dining room table, and unhealthy snacks all over my kitchen. I’m not ready to have people over! And if Jesus invited himself over, well, I’d be in trouble. It’s a good thing that “cleanliness is next to godliness” doesn’t actually come from the Bible.
But Zacchaeus doesn’t miss a beat. He climbs down from the tree and is happy—happy!—to welcome Jesus into his home. Zacchaeus is a wealthy man, so his hospitality is probably very excellent. It’s likely that his house is well-cared for, or maybe that he sends a runner ahead to warn his wife that a Very Important Guest is coming for dinner. It’s likely that he has the best wine and wonderful food to offer. Jesus really knows how to pick his hosts! A sinner, to be sure, but a sinner who understands hospitality.
While Jesus is busy inviting himself over to dinner, the crowd is busy grumbling about his choice of host. I mean, we’ve already established that everyone knows everything there is to know about Zacchaeus. He’s the bad guy in the story, right? Well…maybe, but maybe not. How often crowds act on their assumptions! They assume that because Zacchaeus is rich, he must be corrupt. They assume that because he is a tax-collector, collaborating with the Romans, he must have renounced his Jewish heritage. Zacchaeus hears their grumbling and takes the opportunity to point out that he gives to charity and he makes restitution when he finds fraud—he defends himself against the very inhospitable crowd and their assumption that they know him. “They don’t know me,” is what Zacchaeus says to Jesus.
But Jesus knows. Jesus looked up into the tree, and he knew. He knew that Zacchaeus wanted to see him. He knew that Zacchaeus was willing to risk his status, his appearance, and even his life to see. Climbing a tree can be a dangerous thing, after all—limbs break, people fall, and with 1st century doctors … Where the crowd sees a swindler, Jesus sees a seeker. Where the crowd sees a thief, Jesus sees a good host. Where the crowd sees a collaborator, only as good as a gentile, Jesus sees a beloved child of God, one of the chosen people.
It is in this moment, with just a few words, that Jesus turns from guest to host. While trespassing on Zacchaeus’ excellent hospitality, he turns the tables. Zacchaeus can offer great food and drink, but Jesus offers him this: “salvation has come to this house, for he too is a Son of Abraham.” Jesus offers him his very self—salvation, wholeness, right here, in Zacchaeus’ own house. Jesus offers him restoration to his community. Jesus offers him his true identity as a Son of Abraham. Not just bread, not just wine, but his very self. Jesus issued an invitation—he invited himself over for dinner. But he issued another invitation—an invitation to wholeness, an invitation to his table, an invitation to know your full identity as a child of God.
And right here is where my own assumptions about Zacchaeus and about Jesus have obscured the point: sure, Zacchaeus may have had a nice house and a housekeeper and a great cook—he may have been ready for guests on a moment’s notice. But that doesn’t matter. Jesus knows when he invites himself over that our houses may not be in order, that we haven’t swept or washed the dishes or hidden the sugary snacks. Jesus does the inviting and the hosting—whether we’re ready or not. There’s no dress code on this invitation, just “RSVP.”
Jesus has invited himself over to our house, and he is the one who has set this table with the finest feast. This is an invitation that, for all our riches, we cannot afford to pass up. Instead, like Zacchaeus, let us welcome, and be welcomed, with joy.
May it be so.
Amen.
Ridgefield-Crystal Lake Presbyterian Church
Invitation
Luke 19.1-10
November 4, 2007; Ordinary 31C
Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through it. A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax-collector and was rich. He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, ‘Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.’ So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him. All who saw it began to grumble and said, ‘He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner.’ Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, ‘Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I pay back four times as much.’ Then Jesus said to him, ‘Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.’
All week long I have been walking around singing a song you probably know: “Zacchaeus was a wee little man…” It’s so sad that this is what we remember about Zacchaeus two thousand years later—that he was so short he had to climb a tree to see Jesus. I wonder if what you all will remember about me twenty years from now is that I’m short enough that I need an extra platform in the pulpit so I can stand in here without looking like a child. I would like to think that “short” is not my memorable, song-worthy defining characteristic!
For a short man, Zacchaeus seems to be pretty well-known—at least, people think they know all about him. He’s a tax collector, which means he collaborates with the oppressor, so that must mean that he doesn’t care about his people and that he is power-hungry. He’s rich, so that must mean that he is corrupt. Basically, he’s a sinner. He’s a short-in-stature sinner. What else do we need to know?
Jericho was a fairly large, bustling city. The scene that day might have been rather like a parade—people lining the streets, calling out to Jesus, begging for healing, grasping at his clothes, hoping and praying that will be enough. Parade routes tend to be crowded—I have spent more than my fair share of parades trying to peek through the people to see floats and marching bands—and this road was no exception. Zacchaeus didn’t arrive in time to get a good seat, to spread out his lawn chair and cooler, so he’s peeking through. But it’s not enough—he doesn’t want just a glimpse, he doesn’t want to peek, he wants to see. Something about Jesus has captured his imagination and piqued his curiosity, something has touched him deep enough inside that he is willing to go for a jog and climb a tree. He disregards his status, his nice clothes, his image (which is already tarnished anyway), and runs through the crowd toward the tallest tree he can find. He works pretty hard just to see who Jesus is.
You know those people who stand in line all night to see a new movie, who camp out for concert tickets, who line the red carpet at a movie opening? Zacchaeus is like these hardcore fans, except that they’re not waiting to see the Son of God, and except that Zacchaeus doesn’t even know who Jesus is yet. He knows Jesus is popular, he’s probably heard some teachings, but he couldn’t pick Jesus out of a line-up. He wants to know more, to see this man he’s heard about, and he’s willing to go out on a limb to do it.
I imagine that he’s just gotten up there when Jesus approaches, stops, and calls up the tree to invite himself over. Now, I don’t know about you, but if someone were to invite themselves over to my house on the way out the door at the end of this service, my response would not be the same as Zacchaeus. I might fudge a little, suggest dinner instead of lunch, say “what about tomorrow night?” or remind them that there’s a luncheon at noon that none of us should really miss. My house, especially on days when I preach, is a disaster area. Today there are Operation Christmas Child boxes all over my living room floor, Vegetarian Times magazines all over the dining room table, and unhealthy snacks all over my kitchen. I’m not ready to have people over! And if Jesus invited himself over, well, I’d be in trouble. It’s a good thing that “cleanliness is next to godliness” doesn’t actually come from the Bible.
But Zacchaeus doesn’t miss a beat. He climbs down from the tree and is happy—happy!—to welcome Jesus into his home. Zacchaeus is a wealthy man, so his hospitality is probably very excellent. It’s likely that his house is well-cared for, or maybe that he sends a runner ahead to warn his wife that a Very Important Guest is coming for dinner. It’s likely that he has the best wine and wonderful food to offer. Jesus really knows how to pick his hosts! A sinner, to be sure, but a sinner who understands hospitality.
While Jesus is busy inviting himself over to dinner, the crowd is busy grumbling about his choice of host. I mean, we’ve already established that everyone knows everything there is to know about Zacchaeus. He’s the bad guy in the story, right? Well…maybe, but maybe not. How often crowds act on their assumptions! They assume that because Zacchaeus is rich, he must be corrupt. They assume that because he is a tax-collector, collaborating with the Romans, he must have renounced his Jewish heritage. Zacchaeus hears their grumbling and takes the opportunity to point out that he gives to charity and he makes restitution when he finds fraud—he defends himself against the very inhospitable crowd and their assumption that they know him. “They don’t know me,” is what Zacchaeus says to Jesus.
But Jesus knows. Jesus looked up into the tree, and he knew. He knew that Zacchaeus wanted to see him. He knew that Zacchaeus was willing to risk his status, his appearance, and even his life to see. Climbing a tree can be a dangerous thing, after all—limbs break, people fall, and with 1st century doctors … Where the crowd sees a swindler, Jesus sees a seeker. Where the crowd sees a thief, Jesus sees a good host. Where the crowd sees a collaborator, only as good as a gentile, Jesus sees a beloved child of God, one of the chosen people.
It is in this moment, with just a few words, that Jesus turns from guest to host. While trespassing on Zacchaeus’ excellent hospitality, he turns the tables. Zacchaeus can offer great food and drink, but Jesus offers him this: “salvation has come to this house, for he too is a Son of Abraham.” Jesus offers him his very self—salvation, wholeness, right here, in Zacchaeus’ own house. Jesus offers him restoration to his community. Jesus offers him his true identity as a Son of Abraham. Not just bread, not just wine, but his very self. Jesus issued an invitation—he invited himself over for dinner. But he issued another invitation—an invitation to wholeness, an invitation to his table, an invitation to know your full identity as a child of God.
And right here is where my own assumptions about Zacchaeus and about Jesus have obscured the point: sure, Zacchaeus may have had a nice house and a housekeeper and a great cook—he may have been ready for guests on a moment’s notice. But that doesn’t matter. Jesus knows when he invites himself over that our houses may not be in order, that we haven’t swept or washed the dishes or hidden the sugary snacks. Jesus does the inviting and the hosting—whether we’re ready or not. There’s no dress code on this invitation, just “RSVP.”
Jesus has invited himself over to our house, and he is the one who has set this table with the finest feast. This is an invitation that, for all our riches, we cannot afford to pass up. Instead, like Zacchaeus, let us welcome, and be welcomed, with joy.
May it be so.
Amen.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Reformation
Yesterday was Reformation Sunday. Reformation Day proper is two days away. Today is the calendar-date anniversary of my ordination, but yesterday was the liturgical anniversary.
I was ordained on Reformation Sunday on purpose, for so many reasons. It's one of my favorite days. Aside from being in the best season of the year, it's also a good day of remembering. We Protestants remember where we came from, where we've been, and what it has cost to get where we are. We Reformed-always-being-Reformed types look ahead at all that needs to be reformed. I love the music, the remembering, the tartans, the bagpipes, the history. At heart I am Reformed, though I lean in other theological directions sometimes (process theology can be so seductive, after all). Though our history is bloody, I love the people and the confluence of historical events that made this all possible--the printing press, the ability to travel, the political climate, the decline of Latin, etc etc etc. It's so interesting! And deep inside, I think something very right has come out of it all, along with all the wrong things. Reformed and always being Reformed by the Word and Spirit of God.
I also chose Reformation Sunday because my mother died on Reformation Day, and I needed a way to redeem (in some sense) the date on the calendar. Though her body wasn't with us on that evening in a neo-gothic cathedral one year ago, I know her spirit was there. It was a wonderful evening filled with friends and food (I am my mother's daughter, after all!). It was a chance for both me and the date to be re-formed. And we have--there's been a lot of reformation in the past year.
And so I choose to remember my ordination anniversary as "Reformation Sunday" rather than "October 29" because, in this as in so many things, the liturgical marker is so much more important to me than the calendrical one. Time being cyclical (or perhaps spiral?), especially in the church, I love those markers. Even this one that marks division, because it also marks new beginnings, re-formings, re-creation.
I was ordained on Reformation Sunday on purpose, for so many reasons. It's one of my favorite days. Aside from being in the best season of the year, it's also a good day of remembering. We Protestants remember where we came from, where we've been, and what it has cost to get where we are. We Reformed-always-being-Reformed types look ahead at all that needs to be reformed. I love the music, the remembering, the tartans, the bagpipes, the history. At heart I am Reformed, though I lean in other theological directions sometimes (process theology can be so seductive, after all). Though our history is bloody, I love the people and the confluence of historical events that made this all possible--the printing press, the ability to travel, the political climate, the decline of Latin, etc etc etc. It's so interesting! And deep inside, I think something very right has come out of it all, along with all the wrong things. Reformed and always being Reformed by the Word and Spirit of God.
I also chose Reformation Sunday because my mother died on Reformation Day, and I needed a way to redeem (in some sense) the date on the calendar. Though her body wasn't with us on that evening in a neo-gothic cathedral one year ago, I know her spirit was there. It was a wonderful evening filled with friends and food (I am my mother's daughter, after all!). It was a chance for both me and the date to be re-formed. And we have--there's been a lot of reformation in the past year.
And so I choose to remember my ordination anniversary as "Reformation Sunday" rather than "October 29" because, in this as in so many things, the liturgical marker is so much more important to me than the calendrical one. Time being cyclical (or perhaps spiral?), especially in the church, I love those markers. Even this one that marks division, because it also marks new beginnings, re-formings, re-creation.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
home
my puter has come home with a new logic board.
I have come home from two days in Wisconsin where the leaves have changed colors and things are pretty. and the cheese is good.
Dad's on his way home tomorrow.
Birthday was awesome--David LaMotte sang me Happy Birthday! :-) Presents were amazing. I am now in possession of more cake/cheesecake/sweet goodies than one person can possibly eat.
I am going to pet my kitties now, to get ready for back-to-work tomorrow.... :-)
I have come home from two days in Wisconsin where the leaves have changed colors and things are pretty. and the cheese is good.
Dad's on his way home tomorrow.
Birthday was awesome--David LaMotte sang me Happy Birthday! :-) Presents were amazing. I am now in possession of more cake/cheesecake/sweet goodies than one person can possibly eat.
I am going to pet my kitties now, to get ready for back-to-work tomorrow.... :-)
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Thursday, October 18, 2007
puter sick, and other tales
My 'puter has had a kernel panic issue for the third time in 6 months. It has gone to the MacDoctor and will hopefully be returned or replaced sometime in the next week. In the meantime, I am at the mercy of office computers (which are all windows) so my puter life is mostly on hold for a little while. It's hard to be away from your email when you didn't really plan that! (now when you do plan it, it's a beautiful and liberating thing....but unexpectedly? no.)
In other news, my dad has arrived and we are going to play. Saturday we have tickets to the ballet--Joffrey doing Giselle! I am very excited. Sunday is church day and David LaMotte is coming!!! (yay for a really fantastic birthday present!) Monday and Tuesday we go to Wisconsin for some "pretty"--since apparently Illinois is ugly? Good times.
A bunch more episodes of Cadfael came in to the library today so I am looking forward to watching them sometime soon. I asked for episdoes 5-13, and they had to be brought from another library because we only had 1-4. Interestingly, I got all but 10 and 13 today. Luckily, it's not critical that they be watched in order. It's an amusing show. I know I'm super behind, since it was on PBS 14 years ago, but whatever. It is entertaining me now! And the library, man--who knew they had so much great stuff?
My birthday is on Sunday! woohoo!
Okay, I am going to do some work that doesn't involve my computer. I hope it comes home soon....
In other news, my dad has arrived and we are going to play. Saturday we have tickets to the ballet--Joffrey doing Giselle! I am very excited. Sunday is church day and David LaMotte is coming!!! (yay for a really fantastic birthday present!) Monday and Tuesday we go to Wisconsin for some "pretty"--since apparently Illinois is ugly? Good times.
A bunch more episodes of Cadfael came in to the library today so I am looking forward to watching them sometime soon. I asked for episdoes 5-13, and they had to be brought from another library because we only had 1-4. Interestingly, I got all but 10 and 13 today. Luckily, it's not critical that they be watched in order. It's an amusing show. I know I'm super behind, since it was on PBS 14 years ago, but whatever. It is entertaining me now! And the library, man--who knew they had so much great stuff?
My birthday is on Sunday! woohoo!
Okay, I am going to do some work that doesn't involve my computer. I hope it comes home soon....
Monday, October 15, 2007
Sunday...check
It was a good day in church today--good music, good feel, etc. The choir was amazing. The post-church hours were taken up by the CROP walk--4 miles in the rain. One of our youth walked it with one of those electronic fake babies for a class, and that baby cannot get wet. But no complaining from her--it was great! Our church raised about $2700, which is more than our goal, so that's pretty good. I'm sure we could do better, though. Next year?
It was plague day in confirmation. That's right, we read the stories of the plagues and then the confirmands draw pictures of each plague on its own poster. The fellowship hall is currently covered in plagues. Awesome.
when I got home I reheated some risotto (yesterday's dinner: butternut squash and spinach risotto, with all ingredients except rice coming from my local farm, including my homemade veggie broth!) and watched episode 4 of Cadfael. It's a highly amusing show. Only 13 episodes were made (each 75 minutes). My library has only the first 4 so I have to determine whether I can ILL dvds or not. oy.
I am so tired. My body is tired. I have a headache, probably because I'm dehydrated (you don't think about that walking in the rain!). My brain is worn out from talking with 8th graders about plagues and the power of God and whether God is spiteful, mean, or hate-filled. I'm not really sure how to lean toward a process view of God when we're talking about God killing off the first born sons of Egyptians. What was that about not overpowering/coercing/forcing?
There's a lot going on in the world that I want to blog about. Condy in Israel. the 20 year civil war in Uganda and how Tappert Smiley stated that the Israelis have been successful in their "never again" so why can't the rest of the world...and somehow that had to do with Uganda, where 12,000 people are killed every (day? week? month? I can't remember). Perhaps he should ask a Palestinian about that. This whole business with Armenian genocide not being called what it is because we still want to be friends with the people who did it, and they aren't willing to admit a mistake on the part of their forbears (remember, it happened at the end of Ottoman rule...between WWI and II). A whole school district in my area is under emotional/psychological siege after a student threatened to come in and "shoot up a school"--only days after tragedy in Cleveland. How we are willing to talk about being disturbed by non-democratic trends in Russia but not blatant democracy-killing in Egypt. The fact that military officials are calling the war a disaster. the story of a marine of our church family, shared in worship today. The 3,000 children that have died while I've typed this post. The people who have nowhere to go tonight and it's cold and rainy outside.
My brain is full. My heart is full. My body is tired--and I do not have to walk 4 miles for food or water tomorrow like the people we were supporting today.
It's NPR pledge season. If you listen to a local NPR station and you're not a member, you should change that. In Chicago they are offering an "Eco pack" as a thank you gift for $180 and above. It has a nalgene bottle, reusable (and washable!) shopping bags, and some other green stuff. A great way to save the planet and support public radio! Just do it.
I tried to determine whether I could go to bed at about 8.30 and not be lame. The verdict? that is not lame on a Sunday. other days? well...case by case. We'll see tomorrow.....when our first ever Ministry Team Night is over at 9, I may very well be ready to sleep immediately! RCLPC members reading this--now's your chance to get on one of those coveted teams! 7pm. Be there or be square. :-)
It was plague day in confirmation. That's right, we read the stories of the plagues and then the confirmands draw pictures of each plague on its own poster. The fellowship hall is currently covered in plagues. Awesome.
when I got home I reheated some risotto (yesterday's dinner: butternut squash and spinach risotto, with all ingredients except rice coming from my local farm, including my homemade veggie broth!) and watched episode 4 of Cadfael. It's a highly amusing show. Only 13 episodes were made (each 75 minutes). My library has only the first 4 so I have to determine whether I can ILL dvds or not. oy.
I am so tired. My body is tired. I have a headache, probably because I'm dehydrated (you don't think about that walking in the rain!). My brain is worn out from talking with 8th graders about plagues and the power of God and whether God is spiteful, mean, or hate-filled. I'm not really sure how to lean toward a process view of God when we're talking about God killing off the first born sons of Egyptians. What was that about not overpowering/coercing/forcing?
There's a lot going on in the world that I want to blog about. Condy in Israel. the 20 year civil war in Uganda and how Tappert Smiley stated that the Israelis have been successful in their "never again" so why can't the rest of the world...and somehow that had to do with Uganda, where 12,000 people are killed every (day? week? month? I can't remember). Perhaps he should ask a Palestinian about that. This whole business with Armenian genocide not being called what it is because we still want to be friends with the people who did it, and they aren't willing to admit a mistake on the part of their forbears (remember, it happened at the end of Ottoman rule...between WWI and II). A whole school district in my area is under emotional/psychological siege after a student threatened to come in and "shoot up a school"--only days after tragedy in Cleveland. How we are willing to talk about being disturbed by non-democratic trends in Russia but not blatant democracy-killing in Egypt. The fact that military officials are calling the war a disaster. the story of a marine of our church family, shared in worship today. The 3,000 children that have died while I've typed this post. The people who have nowhere to go tonight and it's cold and rainy outside.
My brain is full. My heart is full. My body is tired--and I do not have to walk 4 miles for food or water tomorrow like the people we were supporting today.
It's NPR pledge season. If you listen to a local NPR station and you're not a member, you should change that. In Chicago they are offering an "Eco pack" as a thank you gift for $180 and above. It has a nalgene bottle, reusable (and washable!) shopping bags, and some other green stuff. A great way to save the planet and support public radio! Just do it.
I tried to determine whether I could go to bed at about 8.30 and not be lame. The verdict? that is not lame on a Sunday. other days? well...case by case. We'll see tomorrow.....when our first ever Ministry Team Night is over at 9, I may very well be ready to sleep immediately! RCLPC members reading this--now's your chance to get on one of those coveted teams! 7pm. Be there or be square. :-)
Thursday, October 11, 2007
no!!!!
Oh no! Tragedy in the buffyverse! Fox has (hopefully temporarily) pulled the licensing for showing any of their shows in theaters, which means no more Buffy-Sing-Along. boo.
Show your support for the funnest few hours of good clean fun you can spend starting at midnight! Learn more here. I am too traumatized to write more. After having such a great time when I went this spring, I was so looking forward to the next time the show would be anywhere nearby....alas, not for now.
I continue to wait with hope...
Show your support for the funnest few hours of good clean fun you can spend starting at midnight! Learn more here. I am too traumatized to write more. After having such a great time when I went this spring, I was so looking forward to the next time the show would be anywhere nearby....alas, not for now.
I continue to wait with hope...
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
at last
Fall has come at last. The 90 degrees have dropped to 75 and will drop further tomorrow--now we are praying for some fall days and not an immediate descent into winter!
Fall is my favorite season--the colors, the temperature, the warm wind, the harvest smells. I look best in fall colors, especially burgundy and berry colors, and I'm currently wearing my favorite new brown pants. Perfect, perfect, perfect.
To make my day even more perfect, I had an Amy's Baked Ziti bowl for lunch. Holy cow was that good. vegan, gluten free (though neither of those are my needs), and amazing. The sauce, with the soy "ricotta" (I don't even like ricotta) was so good, I wanted to lick the recyclable bowl. But since that's generally frowned upon in polite company, I didn't. Even though I was alone in the church kitchen, you just never know who's going to walk in to see their pastor licking a recyclable bowl clean of its tomato sauce, and possibly getting said sauce on her face at the same time. I resisted the extremely strong temptation.
Then, to make the day EVEN BETTER I went over to Two-A-Tea, my favorite coffee shop (which is, sob!, closing at the end of the month so the owner can focus on teaching yoga and pilates and being a massage therapist!) and had a wonderful caramel apple cider. And I'm about to eat my cinnamon apple scone (yes, for dinner...I had a good lunch!). I love everything from there and will be sad to see it go.
I also got out and about a little bit today, walking around Ridgefield (our little antique shop filled neighborhood-that-was-supposed-to-be-the-town-but-Crystal-Lake-happened) handing out posters for our David LaMotte concert! That's right, David LaMotte is playing a concert At.My.Church....On.My.BIRTHDAY!!!!! I am beyond excited and am having a great time around town taking posters and telling people about it. I cannot believe he is playing a concert right here at my church on my birthday. dang, it's awesome. It's the best birthday present to myself I have ever organized. I have no words besides overused superlatives to express myself on this point. wow. So if you are in the Chicago area, come to our little church for a concert! Here's the info: David LaMotte at RCLPC!
You know you want to come celebrate with me. Come on now...we're 50 miles northwest of the city....come on out!
I think that's enough gushing for today--it's time to get back to work getting ready for meetings and whatnot. yippee. However I am avoiding news as it is likely to make me angry and I'm in a good mood today--I want it to last!
(So cool! David LaMotte is coming to my church!!!)
Fall is my favorite season--the colors, the temperature, the warm wind, the harvest smells. I look best in fall colors, especially burgundy and berry colors, and I'm currently wearing my favorite new brown pants. Perfect, perfect, perfect.
To make my day even more perfect, I had an Amy's Baked Ziti bowl for lunch. Holy cow was that good. vegan, gluten free (though neither of those are my needs), and amazing. The sauce, with the soy "ricotta" (I don't even like ricotta) was so good, I wanted to lick the recyclable bowl. But since that's generally frowned upon in polite company, I didn't. Even though I was alone in the church kitchen, you just never know who's going to walk in to see their pastor licking a recyclable bowl clean of its tomato sauce, and possibly getting said sauce on her face at the same time. I resisted the extremely strong temptation.
Then, to make the day EVEN BETTER I went over to Two-A-Tea, my favorite coffee shop (which is, sob!, closing at the end of the month so the owner can focus on teaching yoga and pilates and being a massage therapist!) and had a wonderful caramel apple cider. And I'm about to eat my cinnamon apple scone (yes, for dinner...I had a good lunch!). I love everything from there and will be sad to see it go.
I also got out and about a little bit today, walking around Ridgefield (our little antique shop filled neighborhood-that-was-supposed-to-be-the-town-but-Crystal-Lake-happened) handing out posters for our David LaMotte concert! That's right, David LaMotte is playing a concert At.My.Church....On.My.BIRTHDAY!!!!! I am beyond excited and am having a great time around town taking posters and telling people about it. I cannot believe he is playing a concert right here at my church on my birthday. dang, it's awesome. It's the best birthday present to myself I have ever organized. I have no words besides overused superlatives to express myself on this point. wow. So if you are in the Chicago area, come to our little church for a concert! Here's the info: David LaMotte at RCLPC!
You know you want to come celebrate with me. Come on now...we're 50 miles northwest of the city....come on out!
I think that's enough gushing for today--it's time to get back to work getting ready for meetings and whatnot. yippee. However I am avoiding news as it is likely to make me angry and I'm in a good mood today--I want it to last!
(So cool! David LaMotte is coming to my church!!!)
Sunday, October 07, 2007
check
I feel that I have really had my call as an Associate Pastor confirmed recently. The last two weekends on my own with Senior Pastor away have shown me my gifts, and they do not lie in the areas of remembering-everything-involved-in-communion-sunday-alone, preaching-every-week, or organizing-people-to-do-things-for-you-ahead-of-time. I could probably preach every week if it weren't for all the other things--if I had an associate to take care of programs and a good volunteer base to take care of dramas, table-setting, ushers, communion servers, or whatever. And I suppose I would remember details as it became more rote for me to go through the movements myself. but wow do I not want to be alone in this. So I guess I could maybe one day be the SP but I'm definitely not called to be a solo pastor! It's about all I can handle to do it alone for two weekends, let alone all the days in between!
so, if I was looking for it: confirmation of my sense of call: check.
now back to your regularly scheduled Sunday naps (or confirmation class, in my case....).
so, if I was looking for it: confirmation of my sense of call: check.
now back to your regularly scheduled Sunday naps (or confirmation class, in my case....).
LOTR quotes of the day
after a whole day watching the movies, I have this to say:
"you're late."
"I am no man."
and
"certainty of death? small chance of victory? what are we waiting for?"
That's a little how I feel heading into Sunday this week....
"you're late."
"I am no man."
and
"certainty of death? small chance of victory? what are we waiting for?"
That's a little how I feel heading into Sunday this week....
Saturday, October 06, 2007
"The Food of Faith"--a sermon for Ordinary 27C/World Communion Sunday
The Rev. Teri Peterson
Ridgefield-Crystal Lake Presbyterian Church
The Food of Faith
Lamentations 3.19-26, 2 Timothy 1.5-14
October 7 2007, Ordinary 27 C, World Communion Sunday
Lamentations 3.19-26
The thought of my affliction and my homelessness
is wormwood and gall!
My soul continually thinks of it
and is bowed down within me.
But this I call to mind,
and therefore I have hope:
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul,
‘therefore I will hope in him.’
The Lord is good to those who wait for him,
to the soul that seeks him.
It is good that one should wait quietly
for the salvation of the Lord.
2 Timothy 1.5-14
I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you. For this reason I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you through the laying on of my hands; for God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline.
Do not be ashamed, then, of the testimony about our Lord or of me his prisoner, but join with me in suffering for the gospel, relying on the power of God, who saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works but according to his own purpose and grace. This grace was given to us in Christ Jesus before the ages began, but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our Savior Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel. For this gospel I was appointed a herald and an apostle and a teacher, and for this reason I suffer as I do. But I am not ashamed, for I know the one in whom I have put my trust, and I am sure that he is able to guard until that day what I have entrusted to him. Hold to the standard of sound teaching that you have heard from me, in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. Guard the good treasure entrusted to you, with the help of the Holy Spirit living in us.
Think back with me to a visit to your grandmother’s house. What are some of the things you can always count on your grandmother to have when you go to visit her?
At my grandmother’s house I can always count on a couple of things: butterscotch brownies, those rice krispie treats with chocolate on top, and a jar of m-n-ms. Sound familiar?
I was reminded of this earlier this week when I had a phone call from my brother, asking if I had the recipe for “those brownie things with chocolate that grandma always makes.” After a only little conversation, I was able to untangle his memory of two different foods and get him the recipe for one. For the rice krispie bars with chocolate, and maybe they have peanut butter in them too? I was at a loss. I’ll have to call my grandma for the recipe. If any of you have it and feel inclined to make those for me, however, I will not refuse.
Grandma’s house, for many of us, is about food, but not just about food. It’s about comfort, it’s about familiarity, it’s about going somewhere where the people love you and teach you things your parents would never tell you about, like how to slurp spaghetti, and give you things your parents won’t, like toys that make noise. According to Paul, it’s also where we learn how to live—from our grandmothers and mothers, from our ancestors in the faith. Now at my grandma’s house, I didn’t learn about Jesus, but I did learn about good manners and hospitality. At my parent’s house, I didn’t learn about church but I did learn about being a loyal friend, following through on my commitments, and being honest. At both houses I learned about cooking, I learned about how important food can be for building community, I learned how to share my love and talent for working with food with others in need, and most importantly I learned how to learn from my mistakes and to experience grace and mercy in them rather than expecting the end of the world coming on the heels of some too-crunchy rice.
We all have these places, places where God’s mercies are indeed new every morning, places and people we call to mind as examples of God’s steadfast love, as reminders of hope in dark moments, people who have shared their lives, their faith, their love, and their food with us and who still live inside of us.
These memories, along with hope in God’s steadfast love, are our good treasure. Whenever we have a treasure, it’s tempting to hoard it, to keep it a secret, to bury it in the backyard and draw a secret map with an X to mark the spot. But that’s not the kind of treasure this is, it’s not the kind you store up for yourself. This kind of treasure only retains its value, and it only accrues interest, when we share it. A hug, a phone call, a prayer, a meal brought to a home, and we are all Lois and Eunice sharing our treasure. I make it sound so simple, I know, and I also know it’s not that easy. We’re busy people, we don’t want to impose our beliefs on others, we don’t know what to say. Thankfully one of God’s great gifts to us is the Holy Spirit living in us. She gives us the words, the actions, the courage to pass on our most treasured possession.
The best place, of course, to share anything is around a table. When bread and wine flow freely, so does conversation. We’ve all been at parties that revolved around the kitchen or the buffet table, and this one is no different. In a world where 70% of the people are hungry, in a world that feels more like night than a mercy-filled morning, in a time when hate seems to be overpowering love, in a time when money is more valued than relationships, we gather at table to share the food of faith, to share our treasure. Around the world on this day Christians have gathered at tables. When the sun came up far in the east, they celebrated, and as the sun set there it rose here and we take up the celebration, the pealing of bells, the singing, the sharing, the feasting. When the sun goes down here it will rise somewhere else and they will take up our silence with their song—God’s mercies are new every morning in every nation, in every language.
At this table, we gather with all our grandmothers and mothers, with our ancestors in the faith, with our brothers and sisters around the globe, with all God’s children, to experience God’s faithfulness and to be strengthened for God’s kingdom. Here is the steadfast love of the Lord, here is the family of faith gathered for a meal of bread and wine, and here is the food of our faith, nourishment for kingdom work.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Ridgefield-Crystal Lake Presbyterian Church
The Food of Faith
Lamentations 3.19-26, 2 Timothy 1.5-14
October 7 2007, Ordinary 27 C, World Communion Sunday
Lamentations 3.19-26
The thought of my affliction and my homelessness
is wormwood and gall!
My soul continually thinks of it
and is bowed down within me.
But this I call to mind,
and therefore I have hope:
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul,
‘therefore I will hope in him.’
The Lord is good to those who wait for him,
to the soul that seeks him.
It is good that one should wait quietly
for the salvation of the Lord.
2 Timothy 1.5-14
I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you. For this reason I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you through the laying on of my hands; for God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline.
Do not be ashamed, then, of the testimony about our Lord or of me his prisoner, but join with me in suffering for the gospel, relying on the power of God, who saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works but according to his own purpose and grace. This grace was given to us in Christ Jesus before the ages began, but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our Savior Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel. For this gospel I was appointed a herald and an apostle and a teacher, and for this reason I suffer as I do. But I am not ashamed, for I know the one in whom I have put my trust, and I am sure that he is able to guard until that day what I have entrusted to him. Hold to the standard of sound teaching that you have heard from me, in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. Guard the good treasure entrusted to you, with the help of the Holy Spirit living in us.
Think back with me to a visit to your grandmother’s house. What are some of the things you can always count on your grandmother to have when you go to visit her?
At my grandmother’s house I can always count on a couple of things: butterscotch brownies, those rice krispie treats with chocolate on top, and a jar of m-n-ms. Sound familiar?
I was reminded of this earlier this week when I had a phone call from my brother, asking if I had the recipe for “those brownie things with chocolate that grandma always makes.” After a only little conversation, I was able to untangle his memory of two different foods and get him the recipe for one. For the rice krispie bars with chocolate, and maybe they have peanut butter in them too? I was at a loss. I’ll have to call my grandma for the recipe. If any of you have it and feel inclined to make those for me, however, I will not refuse.
Grandma’s house, for many of us, is about food, but not just about food. It’s about comfort, it’s about familiarity, it’s about going somewhere where the people love you and teach you things your parents would never tell you about, like how to slurp spaghetti, and give you things your parents won’t, like toys that make noise. According to Paul, it’s also where we learn how to live—from our grandmothers and mothers, from our ancestors in the faith. Now at my grandma’s house, I didn’t learn about Jesus, but I did learn about good manners and hospitality. At my parent’s house, I didn’t learn about church but I did learn about being a loyal friend, following through on my commitments, and being honest. At both houses I learned about cooking, I learned about how important food can be for building community, I learned how to share my love and talent for working with food with others in need, and most importantly I learned how to learn from my mistakes and to experience grace and mercy in them rather than expecting the end of the world coming on the heels of some too-crunchy rice.
We all have these places, places where God’s mercies are indeed new every morning, places and people we call to mind as examples of God’s steadfast love, as reminders of hope in dark moments, people who have shared their lives, their faith, their love, and their food with us and who still live inside of us.
These memories, along with hope in God’s steadfast love, are our good treasure. Whenever we have a treasure, it’s tempting to hoard it, to keep it a secret, to bury it in the backyard and draw a secret map with an X to mark the spot. But that’s not the kind of treasure this is, it’s not the kind you store up for yourself. This kind of treasure only retains its value, and it only accrues interest, when we share it. A hug, a phone call, a prayer, a meal brought to a home, and we are all Lois and Eunice sharing our treasure. I make it sound so simple, I know, and I also know it’s not that easy. We’re busy people, we don’t want to impose our beliefs on others, we don’t know what to say. Thankfully one of God’s great gifts to us is the Holy Spirit living in us. She gives us the words, the actions, the courage to pass on our most treasured possession.
The best place, of course, to share anything is around a table. When bread and wine flow freely, so does conversation. We’ve all been at parties that revolved around the kitchen or the buffet table, and this one is no different. In a world where 70% of the people are hungry, in a world that feels more like night than a mercy-filled morning, in a time when hate seems to be overpowering love, in a time when money is more valued than relationships, we gather at table to share the food of faith, to share our treasure. Around the world on this day Christians have gathered at tables. When the sun came up far in the east, they celebrated, and as the sun set there it rose here and we take up the celebration, the pealing of bells, the singing, the sharing, the feasting. When the sun goes down here it will rise somewhere else and they will take up our silence with their song—God’s mercies are new every morning in every nation, in every language.
At this table, we gather with all our grandmothers and mothers, with our ancestors in the faith, with our brothers and sisters around the globe, with all God’s children, to experience God’s faithfulness and to be strengthened for God’s kingdom. Here is the steadfast love of the Lord, here is the family of faith gathered for a meal of bread and wine, and here is the food of our faith, nourishment for kingdom work.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
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