This week we're doing a series on things you can learn in church in just one day. It'll focus on last Sunday, the 27th of October. We'll talk about the events our church hosted and some simple lessons that came from them.
Part 1 talks about Sunday School. Though we're not talking about all of Sunday School. Though all ages of kids met together this Sunday for a special event, our Adult Sunday School class still met separately. So if you want to learn what they talked about you'll have to ask them! It's worth noting, though, that even these stories only paint part of the picture.
Last Sunday our Sunday School students gathered for a special Halloween treat. At 9:00 a.m. we all trooped over to Pastor Dave and Careen's house to watch Room on the Broom. This short movie is based on a children's book of the same name. It tells the story of a kind witch and her cat who apparently do everything together. Their favorite activity is soaring high in the sky on the witch's broom. But the witch also has a bad habit of losing anything that isn't stapled to her forehead. In the course of a day's flying she manages to drop her hat, hair ribbon, and wand. Each time the lost item is found by a different friend: dog, bird, frog. Each new friend asks if there's room on the witch's broom for them to go flying too. Even though her cat strenuously objects, the kindhearted lady always says, "Yes!" Eventually they deal with a broken broom, a looming dragon, and all sorts of adventures together.
The movie is filmed in wonderful British stop-action style. The music, artwork, and voice acting are wonderful. It's an amazing piece of work.
More importantly, we asked the students what this story might tell us about God. Part of it was easy. There's always "room on the broom" with God! No matter how many friends we have, more are welcome. The witch's unfailingly kind response to the animals reflects God's invitation to us. "Of course, you're always welcome!"
The witch's cat provided even more insight into faith and church. From the beginning, and nearly throughout the whole movie, the cat was opposed to the addition of new animals. Kitty loved precedence, the relationship with the witch, the prime place on the broom! Those other animals were messy, annoying, unwelcome. Every time the witch said, "Yes!" to one of them the cat slapped his forehead in chagrin. He immediately began ordering them to get out of his space on the broom, to sit towards the back, to stop making noise and fussing and messing up the ride.
Kitty can reflect our attitude about church. We don't hate other people, we just love the way we do things! We want to preserve that way and our special relationship with God. Therefore we're tempted to cite precedence and tradition, to keep other people off the broom...or at least out of the driver's seat!
It's worth noting that as soon as each animal got permission to get on the broom, they quickly joined the cat's side when the next animal wanted on. Cat said no to dog. After dog got on anyway both dog and cat said no to bird, and so on.
We have to remember that God, our broom driver, keeps up his "Yes!" no matter what. Our job isn't to talk him out of it in favor of keeping us special and exclusive, but to happily make "room on the broom" for all he might invite. Kind and welcoming, ready to celebrate the amazing flight...that's our job description as people of faith.
This was a great lesson for all ages, from the youngest who mostly just enjoyed the movie and learned that kindness matters to the oldest who are exploring their own relationship with God and his church. It's just ONE of the things that you can learn in just one day at church!
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
Monday, October 28, 2013
Friday, October 25, 2013
Reformation Sunday Coming Up!
Don't forget that Sunday is Reformation Day.
This year we're looking at the contribution of the Latin American church to our theology. We'll be singing Latin hymns and enjoying some simple south-of-the-border snack stuff at Fellowship.
Also remember that St. Mary's annual harvest dinner is Sunday, so pick up some Turkey and side dishes...reversing the old Reformation trend by heading TOWARDS the Catholic church instead of breaking away from it!
Also note the Halloween party for everyone Sunday School age from 3:30-4:30 p.m.
(Plus there's Confirmation class!)
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
This year we're looking at the contribution of the Latin American church to our theology. We'll be singing Latin hymns and enjoying some simple south-of-the-border snack stuff at Fellowship.
Also remember that St. Mary's annual harvest dinner is Sunday, so pick up some Turkey and side dishes...reversing the old Reformation trend by heading TOWARDS the Catholic church instead of breaking away from it!
Also note the Halloween party for everyone Sunday School age from 3:30-4:30 p.m.
(Plus there's Confirmation class!)
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
God Is Love
During our Wednesday Morning Women's Bible Study this morning we came across a familiar claim in the fourth chapter of 1 John: "God is love."
This phrase is deceptively simple. We've all heard it before. The ease with which we digest it (and move on to more puzzling things) threatens to obscure its depth and importance.
Notice what it says. God is love. This is not a comparison as in, "God resembles love." Neither is it a tool or methodology, "God prefers love." It's a statement of being. God is love. The two are one and the same. "Is" means equals...interchangeable...when you say one you've said them both.
I can't even count the number of times I've heard people try to describe God while skating around this simple definition. They always end up with something besides God in the end. You cannot separate God from love and end up in the right place. If it is not love it's not God anymore no matter what name you put to it.
As God's children, redeemed and sanctified by him, we are called to represent and share him with each other and with the world. That means we are also called to be love to the world. It's an interesting concept. Most often we employ love as a verb. We say we have to love the world. That seems difficult. There are plenty of things not to love! When we understand that we are to be love to the world, things become a little clearer. Instead of asking, "How am I feeling here?" or "How am I reacting to this situation?" we can simply ask, "What does love look like right now? What can I bring that shows love?" I don't really feel love for a guy who comes to my door and asks me for gas, but I can be love and show love by filling his tank. In that moment, love looks like gasoline! Sometimes love looks like lasagna or raked leaves or keeping my mouth shut when the turkey is too dry. Each of these becomes a holy act, for when love is among us there God is also.
God is love. Don't miss the importance of those words as you're talking about, showing, and embodying our Lord!
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
This phrase is deceptively simple. We've all heard it before. The ease with which we digest it (and move on to more puzzling things) threatens to obscure its depth and importance.
Notice what it says. God is love. This is not a comparison as in, "God resembles love." Neither is it a tool or methodology, "God prefers love." It's a statement of being. God is love. The two are one and the same. "Is" means equals...interchangeable...when you say one you've said them both.
I can't even count the number of times I've heard people try to describe God while skating around this simple definition. They always end up with something besides God in the end. You cannot separate God from love and end up in the right place. If it is not love it's not God anymore no matter what name you put to it.
As God's children, redeemed and sanctified by him, we are called to represent and share him with each other and with the world. That means we are also called to be love to the world. It's an interesting concept. Most often we employ love as a verb. We say we have to love the world. That seems difficult. There are plenty of things not to love! When we understand that we are to be love to the world, things become a little clearer. Instead of asking, "How am I feeling here?" or "How am I reacting to this situation?" we can simply ask, "What does love look like right now? What can I bring that shows love?" I don't really feel love for a guy who comes to my door and asks me for gas, but I can be love and show love by filling his tank. In that moment, love looks like gasoline! Sometimes love looks like lasagna or raked leaves or keeping my mouth shut when the turkey is too dry. Each of these becomes a holy act, for when love is among us there God is also.
God is love. Don't miss the importance of those words as you're talking about, showing, and embodying our Lord!
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Faithful Endurance
This Sunday's gospel reading came from Luke 18: 1-8. It centered around an interesting parable...
Problem #1: We're not used to hearing stories with unjust people as the main character in the Bible, especially when that story appears to justify nagging.
We have to remember here that the point of any parable is not contained in the story itself. A parable points to a message beyond itself. The parable of the sower is not about farmers and birds, but about how God's word hits us. This parable is not about grumpy judges and persistent widows. The Bible tells us what it's about before word one: always talking to God and never losing heart.
The unjust judge doesn't really exist. You can tell he's a caricature by the way he's described: neither fearing God nor caring what people think. He's the most darn dastardly judge there's ever been. If this were a Western movie he'd be wearing a black hat. He even describes himself this way! "I am Black Bart, the judge who neither fears God nor respects other human beings! Mwahahahahaaaa!"
The widow doesn't exist either. All we know about her is that she is a widow, which means she's probably poor, neglected, of little standing. We have no idea of the merits of her court case. Her adversary isn't named. She just calls him "my adversary". We do know that she won't stop asking the judge for justice no matter what. She bothers him day and night to get whatever she's in desperate need of.
Neither character is the center of the story. Rather the judge's conclusion is. He doesn't care about her, about her case, about justice at all. He just wants to get her off his back. So he grants her request, if nothing else to hush her up! This dispensing of justice by the Worst Judge in the World is the main act, the tipping point of the story.
The message here gets explained by Jesus himself. If the worst black-hatted guy in the world will grant justice to a woman of no standing just because she needs it enough to keep asking (to not give up) won't God grant his children justice as well? After all God is the best being in the universe, not the worst. If even the lowest common denominator person does this, how much more will God?
Problem #2: At first glance the story appears to say, "Ask for anything you want and you'll get it, just as long as you ask every day!"
This bugs us even more than the first. Each of us has a story of wanting a pony more than anything else in the world when we were little, of asking and asking, but never getting it. Broken hearts, getting sick, people dying, and a hundred other things all appear to give the lie to this story. We're tempted to be cynical or to express our anger by saying, "I didn't get what I needed, Jesus! None of this is true. If you really cared you would have helped me!"
Really, though, this isn't a parable about getting everything you want. This is a story about what happens precisely when you don't get everything you want...when those prayers appear to go unanswered.
Lots of people say--or at least imply--that faith is about winning. If you get rich, stay healthy, appear to live a charmed life then God has blessed you. That's his job, to make you happy. That's the "reward" you earn for your "faith". Plenty of churches and individuals trade on this message. "We have the super secret way to get God to bless you! You can be a winner too!"
Faith isn't about winning. We know this because none of us wins! Nobody gets out of this life alive. Nobody gets out of this life without getting hurt really badly either. From that first broken heart to the last goodbye, the world seems to be in the business of emptying us out and roughing us up. No amount of money or distraction will let us avoid that reality.
In the theological sense, none of us remains sinless throughout our lives. It's impossible. If we claim it, we're fibbing. Jesus Christ died on the cross not for the winners, but the losers...those destined to perish without him. That's all of us.
Faith isn't about winning. Faith is what happens when you lose. Jesus defines faith at the end of this gospel by asking how much he'll find on earth. But he's not asking how many winning, holy-seeming people with charmed lives he'll find. He's asking how many people he'll find who haven't given up despite their hardships. He's not asking how many people he'll find whose prayers have been answered; he's asking how many people he'll find with enough trust and courage to ask anyway even if they thing they're not getting a response.
This gospel reading isn't for the magically charmed, the holier-than-everybody. It's for everybody who has cried out in the night with a problem impossible to solve. It's for everybody who's mourned something that's never coming back this side of heaven. It's for everybody who's ever looked at themselves and seen a flawed, unworthy person...anything less than beautiful. The message is simple: hang on. God is coming. And he will deliver justice. He will uplift you. It's real and it's yours. There will be a life of peace, love, and joy for us and for our loved ones. Nothing will stain that life, nothing bad will remain, and it will never, ever end. We will get glimpses of it in earthly joy and earthly justice, but even those are only temporary reflections. Justice is on its way. Truth will prevail. Love conquers all. None of that is in doubt. The only question is whether we'll remember to believe in that promise...whether our hope for a brighter day will endure and whether we'll remember to keep asking for it to come.
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up. 2 He said: “In a certain town there was a judge who neither feared God nor cared what people thought. 3 And there was a widow in that town who kept coming to him with the plea, ‘Grant me justice against my adversary.’
4 “For some time he refused. But finally he said to himself, ‘Even though I don’t fear God or care what people think, 5 yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice, so that she won’t eventually come and attack me!’”
6 And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. 7 And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? 8 I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?”Many folks, upon reading this, are troubled by two things:
Problem #1: We're not used to hearing stories with unjust people as the main character in the Bible, especially when that story appears to justify nagging.
We have to remember here that the point of any parable is not contained in the story itself. A parable points to a message beyond itself. The parable of the sower is not about farmers and birds, but about how God's word hits us. This parable is not about grumpy judges and persistent widows. The Bible tells us what it's about before word one: always talking to God and never losing heart.
The unjust judge doesn't really exist. You can tell he's a caricature by the way he's described: neither fearing God nor caring what people think. He's the most darn dastardly judge there's ever been. If this were a Western movie he'd be wearing a black hat. He even describes himself this way! "I am Black Bart, the judge who neither fears God nor respects other human beings! Mwahahahahaaaa!"
The widow doesn't exist either. All we know about her is that she is a widow, which means she's probably poor, neglected, of little standing. We have no idea of the merits of her court case. Her adversary isn't named. She just calls him "my adversary". We do know that she won't stop asking the judge for justice no matter what. She bothers him day and night to get whatever she's in desperate need of.
Neither character is the center of the story. Rather the judge's conclusion is. He doesn't care about her, about her case, about justice at all. He just wants to get her off his back. So he grants her request, if nothing else to hush her up! This dispensing of justice by the Worst Judge in the World is the main act, the tipping point of the story.
The message here gets explained by Jesus himself. If the worst black-hatted guy in the world will grant justice to a woman of no standing just because she needs it enough to keep asking (to not give up) won't God grant his children justice as well? After all God is the best being in the universe, not the worst. If even the lowest common denominator person does this, how much more will God?
Problem #2: At first glance the story appears to say, "Ask for anything you want and you'll get it, just as long as you ask every day!"
This bugs us even more than the first. Each of us has a story of wanting a pony more than anything else in the world when we were little, of asking and asking, but never getting it. Broken hearts, getting sick, people dying, and a hundred other things all appear to give the lie to this story. We're tempted to be cynical or to express our anger by saying, "I didn't get what I needed, Jesus! None of this is true. If you really cared you would have helped me!"
Really, though, this isn't a parable about getting everything you want. This is a story about what happens precisely when you don't get everything you want...when those prayers appear to go unanswered.
Lots of people say--or at least imply--that faith is about winning. If you get rich, stay healthy, appear to live a charmed life then God has blessed you. That's his job, to make you happy. That's the "reward" you earn for your "faith". Plenty of churches and individuals trade on this message. "We have the super secret way to get God to bless you! You can be a winner too!"
Faith isn't about winning. We know this because none of us wins! Nobody gets out of this life alive. Nobody gets out of this life without getting hurt really badly either. From that first broken heart to the last goodbye, the world seems to be in the business of emptying us out and roughing us up. No amount of money or distraction will let us avoid that reality.
In the theological sense, none of us remains sinless throughout our lives. It's impossible. If we claim it, we're fibbing. Jesus Christ died on the cross not for the winners, but the losers...those destined to perish without him. That's all of us.
Faith isn't about winning. Faith is what happens when you lose. Jesus defines faith at the end of this gospel by asking how much he'll find on earth. But he's not asking how many winning, holy-seeming people with charmed lives he'll find. He's asking how many people he'll find who haven't given up despite their hardships. He's not asking how many people he'll find whose prayers have been answered; he's asking how many people he'll find with enough trust and courage to ask anyway even if they thing they're not getting a response.
This gospel reading isn't for the magically charmed, the holier-than-everybody. It's for everybody who has cried out in the night with a problem impossible to solve. It's for everybody who's mourned something that's never coming back this side of heaven. It's for everybody who's ever looked at themselves and seen a flawed, unworthy person...anything less than beautiful. The message is simple: hang on. God is coming. And he will deliver justice. He will uplift you. It's real and it's yours. There will be a life of peace, love, and joy for us and for our loved ones. Nothing will stain that life, nothing bad will remain, and it will never, ever end. We will get glimpses of it in earthly joy and earthly justice, but even those are only temporary reflections. Justice is on its way. Truth will prevail. Love conquers all. None of that is in doubt. The only question is whether we'll remember to believe in that promise...whether our hope for a brighter day will endure and whether we'll remember to keep asking for it to come.
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
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