Blog Archives

May 29, 2022

5/31/2022

First Congregational Church
May 29, 2022
Ascension Sunday, 7th Sunday of Easter
Acts 1:1-11
“What Are We Waiting For?”
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching

So there’s a story of a priest who was going through his normal routine of preparing for worship one Sunday morning. As was his custom, he opened the church and walked through the sanctuary, praying for those who would gather in that sacred space that morning. He then walked outside like he did every Sunday, to ensure that the peaceful grounds of the church were in order.

That morning, he noticed that a vagrant was sleeping in the courtyard. To make matters worse, the scruffy outsider had kicked his shoes off and propped his feet up on their statue of St. Francis.

The priest, not wanting to cause a scene with worshipers set to arrive any moment, quickly went to the vagrant and told him that while he was welcome to worship at the church that morning, the parishioners would be most upset to see him defiling their sacred statue with his dirty feet.

The vagrant looked at the priest and said, “I’m happy to move my feet to a more suitable place if this is too holy. To keep me from repeating this mistake in the future, could you tell me what ground is not holy?” As the story goes, the unknown man then revealed himself to be St. Francis, and then poof — he was gone.

There’s some holy ground in this morning’s scripture passage, not that anyone else in would probably take notice of it. Its holiness comes from the fact that it is the place where Jesus says his last recorded words, written some 30 years after Jesus’ death and resurrection. In my mind, it is at least “special” in that it is the complement to Jesus’ coming to earth, in a stable.

Acts 1:1-11
In my former book, Theophilus, I wrote about all that Jesus began to do and to teach 2 until the day he was taken up to heaven, after giving instructions through the Holy Spirit to the apostles he had chosen. 3 After his suffering, he presented himself to them and gave many convincing proofs that he was alive. He appeared to them over a period of forty days and spoke about the kingdom of God. 4 On one occasion, while he was eating with them, he gave them this command: “Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about. 5 For John baptized with[a] water, but in a few days you will be baptized with[b] the Holy Spirit.”
6 Then they gathered around him and asked him, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?”
7 He said to them: “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. 8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”
9 After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight.
10 They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them. 11 “Men of Galilee,” they said, “why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.”

Thank you, Carlisle. As I’ve been thinking about this day, this past week, this particular last week, and all of us, together, near and far, in the present and perhaps in the future, it made me think of a braid - hair or fabric, twine or wire. And because it, too, has a piece on this particular day, I am delighted to share that braid is also military slang for scrambled egg.

So we have the strands that come together, touching each other, holding each other in place - of the school shooting in Texas, an earthquake in Peru and Bolivia, the angst building up in political elections, the Russian invasion of Ukraine, inflation, and gas prices rising up and environmental change, graduations and the beginning of wedding and reunions season, and of course, the linger of covid and then there’s monkeypox, abuses, and violence of all sorts. When you sprinkle this morning’s scripture passage into all that, it may seem that the salt has lost its flavor.

But the two men dressed in white - interesting. It wasn’t that long ago we were contemplating the men in white at a certain gravesite of a certain empty tomb, talking about Jesus ‘not being there anymore.’ It sure seems like it should be relevant - in one way or another.

And it’s not the words themselves, uttered by these guys, but I want to know the inflection of their voices. Was it a stern reprimand? Or a strong suggestion? It was my pal, Stephen Garnaas Holmes that gave yet another thought. Why do we stand and look at the sky - or casket - or the newscast - or the medical report?

“Because sometimes all you can do is stare into the space where once there was something you loved. Because sometimes there’s a gap between the last step of the journey and the first one of the next one. Because grief is the grain in the pearl of believing. Because sometimes there's an empty place in you that only the right kind of silence can fill. Because it's sometimes only empty air and a vast, insistent silence where we can hear the voice, the silent voice, and feel the presence, the huge unsayable presence of the One in whose absence there is such nearness. Because sometimes, - God, sometimes you just really miss the skin.”

I know I’ve mentioned it before, the fact that a fair bit of my sabbatical time was spent with my dad, cleaning every closet, cupboard, and drawer in his house. It was long enough after his wife died, and it was time. I surely didn’t go there with helping him sort out the house in mind. If I’d known ahead of time, I’m sure I’d have fretted and fussed about it in my own mind. But it started with the silverware drawer.

No one would have guessed that that little drawer contained pieces of five different silverware sets! And who would have suspected 3 forks, 6 spoons, and 2 knives of one set mixed in with odd numbers of other sets? But the prize was finding that there really was one complete set! And only God knew that that one little drawer would lead to three or four completely filled home trash dumpsters, eight or nine trips to Goodwill, box diving at the grocery, phone, and liquor stores, not to mention a few garbage bags.

One little silverware drawer led to a fresh feel for the whole house. But doing something for our world and society that can make a difference? That can be immobilizing in its overwhelming potential and possibilities. So I give great credit to Greg Moore and Cameron Merrill at ministrymatters.com for their insight and work in helping us be able to take the next step into our Jerusalems, Judeas, Samarias, and ends of the earth.

Before I get to their point, a definition. We don’t hear the word ubiquity all that often, and it means “the fact of appearing everywhere or being very common. Example: The ubiquity of mobile phones means you don’t really need a watch.

Greg and Cameron wrote, “The Ascension of Christ does not mark God’s absence but God’s ubiquity. We know, this sounds like ephemeral, ethereal spirituality run amok. But the church claiming the elevated ubiquity of Christ on Ascension Sunday is not primarily a spiritual claim. This is a political claim. The church's claim that Christ is ubiquitous, is over and against Caesar's claim of ubiquitous control. Caesar's bounds unravel when the church claims that Christ is elevated above; ruling all; claiming all.

Which is why the British church had the ancient practice of beating the bounds. During the time ahead of Ascension Day, they would wander the boundaries of the parish, blessing the homes and the fields as they went. Reading from the Psalms and the Gospel, the priests and town officials, as they walked around, would beat the boundary posts of the parish to mark the space cared for by that portion of Christ’s body. Ascension is about the body of Christ beating the false bounds of this world back with the claim of Christ taking space back from the grips of death.” Just when I thought I’d learned all I needed to know…

Instead of reading from the Psalms and the Gospel, I thought that we could all take the extra bulletin inserts with us this week, as we walk, drive, longboard, bike, motorcycle, or even boat, and do a little intentional praying - and I deeply apologize for the spelling errors that were missed.

We can wait til the cows come home or the sun shines, Nellie, but really, there is no need to wait. We can start at the top of the prayer sheet and go through the whole thing in a day or do one a day. Just don’t do it while driving, riding or any other action that could get you in trouble or hurt.

There is a lot in this world that seems beyond our ability to fix or help. Except that we have a resurrected and ascended Savior who is also our brother, who is part of the braid of the Trinity, the source of all being and energy, love and light, and we can tap into it for free. In truth, we are a bunch of fireworks with great potential of joy and delight. This passage in Acts is the match that sparks our efforts to be God’s people in beating the bounds of evil and wrong-doing.

There are times when we need to just stand and look up, or down, sit or lie down or whatever it is that gives us the space for a little healing of heart and mind and body and soul. God’s psalm for that is number 46: “Be still and know that I am God.” And there’s not a period at the end of that statement, but a semi-colon; “I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”

As partners in exalting or lifting up God as we follow Christ, let’s not wait any longer as we pray. Holy God, Holy Son, Holy Spirit, thank you for giving us purpose, because without it, we would be as a boat without a rudder. For the times when we’ve turned away from our call, forgive us, reaffirm us and motivate us with renewed energy. Help us tune in to the struggling single parents in need of community, for the newly relocated who are looking for a place to call home, for those who are wondering how to even begin to connect with you or even if you are even real, for the children who are simply yearning for a place to play with friends, that all will find their way in because of the space you are making through us. Help all of us to hear and heed the call you have for each of us, to be your witnesses. May our beating of the bounds help the sick find healing, the hungry be fed, the stranger welcomed and the vulnerable sheltered. May we all rest this day and every day and night in the place you’ve prepared for us, right where we are. And all your people pray all these things as we all say, Amen.

Sunday, May 22, 2022

5/22/2022

First Congregational Church
May 22, 2022
6th Sunday of Easter
John 5:1-9
“Time and Prayer and the Aid of the Holy Spirit”
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching

Two people were out hunting and come upon what appeared to be an abandoned farm. The barn was sagging, the house was in disrepair, and there were junk cars and parts lying around. The only things that made it a working farm were a few chickens pecking away and a goat wandering around. As they entered the yard, they came across an old well. One asked the other "Wonder how deep it is."

The other said, "We'll have to drop something down and listen for the splash." They look around for something to drop down the well, but the only thing close by was an old car transmission. They both hauled it over to the well and dropped it in. They counted and waited a long time for the splash. It was deep, deep one all right. They turned to leave and saw the goat was charging at them, head down, horns headed straight for them. At the last moment, they jumped aside, and the goat went right past them and straight over the side and down the well. They looked at each other in amazement.

As they started to leave, the owner of the farm came up. They chatted for a moment and eventually got permission to hunt on his land. The farmer asked, “By the way, have you seen my goat?" They said, "Your goat almost killed us charging at us. You should have had that goat tied up.” The farmer, "He was, I had him tied up to an old transmission.”

This morning, the lectionary brings us a passage in which Jesus is going to Jerusalem, but not the trip during his last week. He was going there for a feast day, probably the Passover, although we are not certain it was that particular feast day.

As Linda makes her way up here, I will point out to those using the pew Bibles, that there is an oddity at the end of verse three. There are two sorts of original documents when it comes to Bibles: by date and by quantity. The oldest manuscripts, as they are called, didn’t have verse 4. In most of the many of those discovered later, verse 4 was a part of the document. The pew Bibles have the fourth verse at the bottom of the page, and Linda will be reading the whole of it, as in the later documents.

John 5:1-9
1 Sometime later, Jesus went up to Jerusalem for a feast of the Jews. 2 Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. 3 Here a great number of disabled people used to lie--the blind, the lame, the paralyzed (and they waited for the moving of the waters. 4 From time to time an angel of the Lord would come down and stir up the waters. The first one into the pool after each such disturbance would be cured of whatever disease they had.)
5 One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. 6 When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, "Do you want to get well?" 7 "Sir," the invalid replied, "I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me." 8 Then Jesus said to him, "Get up! Pick up your mat and walk." 9 At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked. The day on which this took place was a Sabbath,

Thank you, Linda. A wealthy man threw a party at his mansion, complete with a new saltwater pool. During the party, live sharks were released into the pool and the wealthy man offered a million dollars to anyone brave enough to swim across the pool. Immediately there was a splash and someone started swimming across the pool at record speed. The swimmer jumped out of the pool, completely out of breath and everyone congratulated him on his courage. The man said, "I just want to know - WHO PUSHED ME?”

The passage this morning is unlike other healings, beginning with the pool itself. Bethesda means "house of mercy” or house of grace.” For a long time, it was thought to be a mythical place, but excavations in the 1800s and since have revealed its authenticity. It wasn’t a mineral spring or particularly holy water. And at completely random moments, the water was “troubled” - sounding almost human.

We don’t know how old the man was, but considering that life expectancy was not much more than 40 years for males, a good share of his life had been spent with his mat. Imagine the monotony, waiting, watching, hoping, while nothing changed. Unable to see that his life was more than this pool, he was convinced that life would bubble up outside of him in that magic pool.

Of course, I want to know who took him there, or did he actually live there? Who supported his ability to be there. Someone helped, but maybe that was all they could do - like each of the pieces we do in helping others. And if he was sitting there every day, then he wasn’t going to the synagogue for any spiritual healing either. It is not new news that being ill or challenged in one way or another has ramifications on other parts of our lives - including our mental and spiritual health. The Bible doesn’t tell us, but the man probably didn’t have much faith to fall back on. Add that to the lack of people to come alongside him in his healing, it makes sense that maybe he was a little defensive, completely avoiding the direct answer to the direct question with excuses.

And who would blame him, really? He’s sick and tired of being sick and tired, and maybe his answer is more defensive because if you think about it, it can feel like Jesus is suggesting that this guy’s circumstances are of his own making - his own fault.

I remember years ago, preaching on this passage, and I had used Jesus’ words for the sermon title. “Do you want to get well?” Those who remember Jack Frost, he commented - before the service - just enough so I could hear - I didn’t know I was sick! And isn’t that the truth! Sometimes we don’t know how sick we are until we start feeling better!

For this man, maybe this mysterious, chronic condition has become a sort of badge of courage that he enjoys talking about, that gives him some power or family position that he wouldn’t otherwise have. There are those folks that somehow come to enjoy their ill health, either because it’s familiar and oddly comfortable in knowing what it’s like, or that it’s the lazy way out, because getting well will take some work.

Chelsey Harmon of Calvin Theological Seminary makes a very pointed observation. “It strikes me that the attitude we ascribe to this man laying at the pool is very likely an identification with something in our own lives, revealing how we might react to being questioned by Jesus.

She goes on. “I didn’t read any of this defensive attitude in the man. Instead, I heard a man who matter of factly describes his situation. This is probably because I identify with this man physically more than spiritually: I too have physical disabilities and there have been so many times on the road of seeking healing that I have felt so very utterly alone, “without a person to help me.”

Going to a slew of doctor and care provider appointments, trying to learn about what I’m being told is going on in me, waiting, waiting, waiting, for the next specialist… it’s exhausting and it’s easy to feel like you aren’t going to make it. You struggle to change your frame of reference and your standards for your lifestyle so that you don’t fall into the trap of believing that because you can’t do things, you’re giving up.” I think there are a lot of folks who are in a similar spot.

And then we’re all wired differently. There was an episode of Chicago Med in the last months in which part of the story was around a man living in an iron lung who was somehow able to amass a fortune in his own beautiful glassed apartment. With people able to come in and help him, the man had written books - as I recall - and despite all the obstacles, was still able to maintain a positive outlook on the world, to the point of being able to help those caring for him. And I know it’s a tv show, but still, it’s a great way to see how people are created so differently.

Putting all that potential of the man aside, taking the passage at face value, the man had thrown himself on the mercy of God, - waiting for God’s angel to do what only God could do. But what he hadn’t counted on was God own self showing up. There’s no indication in the story that he even knows who Jesus is.

When it comes to Jesus, there’s no prerequisite of faith needed for this man, no going to wash in a lake first, during or after, no spit mixing with mud to cover an eye. In fact, if you noticed, the man didn’t even ask Jesus for healing and Jesus doesn’t help the man into the water. No introductions, no real small talk, no sermon. Just a question.

He doesn’t heal anyone else, and we don’t know why this particular man was chosen out of the rest. Nor do we know the inflection of Jesus’ voice - was it a challenge or an invitation or a simple query? Jesus’ deep compassion - in all of the Gospels - for the sick and disabled is always upfront and center, correcting cultural misunderstandings at every opportunity. He doesn’t respond to pain or illness with contempt, mockery, or condescension, nor does he tell a sick person that their illness is their own fault.

We don’t know about all those others there that day, but for this one man, Jesus speaking to him means that the man is no longer alone, that he is being acknowledged as a human being, with the right to make his own decisions, even if those decisions are not necessarily in his own best interest. I’m still trying to learn the lesson that my niece and nephew, despite having a most amazing and wise aunt, get to make their own mistakes, just like I did when I was their age.

Jesus doesn’t tell the man, “Your faith has made you well,” because that would be a lie. Notice that Jesus doesn’t dwell on the man’s past; he doesn’t dredge up the loss and waste of the thirty-eight years the man can’t get back. And notice that he doesn’t heal the man on the man’s terms — by helping him into the pool when the angel stirs the water. Jesus simply tells the man to get up and walk. And he does.

Methodist founder, John Wesley, traveled 250,000 miles on horseback, riding twenty miles daily for forty years, and preached forty thousand sermons. Compared to 40,000, my mere 1,200 sermons sound inept. Wesley produced four hundred books, knew ten languages, and at eighty-three was annoyed when he could not write more than fifteen hours a day without hurting his eyes. At eighty-six, he was ashamed that he could not preach more than twice a day. He complained, in his diary, that there was an increasing tendency to lie in bed until 5:30 in the morning.

If we take all this magnificent knowledge and insight and put it together, we have some amazing opportunities for reflection. We can dip our toes into the stubbornness and defensiveness at the idea that we have more to do in our maturation process, that this knowledge will require effort to change, and that change isn’t always giant and horrible. Sometimes it’s Jesus kicking our butts a bit and telling us to get up off our () mat.

And even this whole scenario carries a tinge of radical evolution: there was Jesus - healing - on the Sabbath - and telling the man to carry his mat - also forbidden to do on the Sabbath. And yet, what a way of showing us how to respect our own selves, that we are worthy of better and greater - regardless of the day or time. That we are not people of “as soon as” life. Like children say, “As soon as I get big, grow up, I will ….” As soon as I graduate, get a job, get a better job… As soon as I retire. As soon as he changes the way he acts. As soon as she apologizes.” The thing is, there will always be another Pool of Bethesda.

We are not the people of “on hold.” And oftentimes, it’s not even so much that our circumstances change, but our way of being, seeing, acting, speaking, and thinking changes. Circumstances are important, and they do affect us. But we are more than them. Life is not to be found outside our various situations or circumstances but within them.

Jesus’ question doesn't imply that life will be easy, but it can be more manageable if we drain the power of the pool over us. Through “Time and Prayer and the Aid of the Holy Spirit”, we get glimpses of that sort of healing in others and ourselves, healing that is oftentimes nothing like we envisioned. Better than. The question might be a little uncomfortable, but the answer is very likely to be heavenly. And so we should pray.

Gracious, Healing God, thank you for coming to us, simply, individually, genuinely, and treating us with the dignity of being able to make our own decisions. Enable us to reflect your respect and dignity to those around us so that we might all glitter with the sparkle of wholeness and mercy and grace. Give us sharper vision when looking at our histories, to see the effects of time and prayer and the aid of your Holy Spirit to bring us to this place in our lives. And may that vision encourage us into the future - all your children - as we all say, Amen.

Sunday, May 15, 2022

5/15/2022

First Congregational Church
Sunday, May 15, 2022
Fifth Sunday in Easter
John 13:31-35
“Divine Delight"
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching

If I were a bettin’ person, I’d bet that most of you all have never heard the story of Horville Sash. Horville had a humble job in the offices of the largest corporation of the world. He worked as the gofer in the lowest reaches of the building doing what he could to help other people do their jobs, but often he wondered and thought about the floor just above his.

Then came a day when Horville found a bug scurrying across the floor. As the mailroom clerk, Horville had only bugs to command - to bully. He raised his foot to flatten the helpless speck. "Spare me." The bug spoke. A speaking bug? Horville spared the bug and his reward was a wish. "I wish to be promoted to the second floor." Done. Horville's boss told him the good news that very day. Horville marched to the second floor as MacArthur and Patton rolled into one.

Wait. Horville heard footsteps on the ceiling of floor number two. There was a third floor. A higher level meant higher wages and more power. The next day, Horville rose to the third-floor job of sales coordinator. But he wasn't satisfied, he now knew there were other floors, many others and the promotions were like kerosene to a flame. He went to the 10th floor, then to the 20th, then 50th, and the 70th. Horville sat by the indoor pool on the 96th floor.

The next day Horville discovered, and it was only by chance, a stairway leading up - to another floor? He scrambled up the stairs on to the roof. He was now the highest, the most powerful. And content. Horville headed for the stairway.

Just as he turned to go back down to his office he saw a boy near the edge of the building with his eyes closed. "What are you doing?" "Praying." "To whom?" The boy answered, pointing a finger skyward, "To God.”

Panic gripped Horville. Was there a floor above him? He couldn't see it. Just clouds. He couldn't hear the shuffling of feet. "Do you mean there's an authority above me?" "Yes." The bug was summoned, "Make me God. Make me the highest," he said. "Put me in the type of position that only God would hold if he were on earth.”

The very next day, Horville began work as a gofer in the basement!

The context of this morning’s scripture passage was Jesus’ last night, after he foretold of his betrayal. When Judas took the bread of indictment and Jesus told him to quickly do what he was going to do, Judas took off.

John 13:31-35
31 When he (Judas) was gone, Jesus said, "Now is the Son of Man glorified and God is glorified in him. 32 If God is glorified in him, God will glorify the Son in himself, and will glorify him at once. 33 "My children, I will be with you only a little longer. You will look for me, and just as I told the Jews, so I tell you now: Where I am going, you cannot come. 34 "A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. 35 By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another."

Thank you, Peg. This week we hosted the Ministerial Association meeting, comprised of the pastors of many - most of - the churches in Benzie County. We were commiserating over the news that there would be no Baccalaureate this year due to disinterest, while reminding ourselves that there are some things that will not go back to “normal” after covid, even though normal is only a setting on the washing machine. Then one of the pastors shared a recent statistic that Benzie County is not only the least churched county in the state but in the nation.

Whether that statement is true or not, there is a myriad of reasons why people avoid congregations of faith, and we could spend a few hours regaling tales of people we know, or knew, that parted ways with organized religion. But the thing is that we need communities, places where we belong, with people who belong to us, perhaps most especially places of worship, lest we turn into persons we never wanted to be.

I know I’ve used this illustration before, but it’s like a perfect diamond on a sunny day. Fred Craddock tells the story of a restaurant owner who was going around to various tables to see how everyone was doing. When the owner, Ben Hopper, came to the table with Craddock and his wife, who were on vacation in Tennessee, the owner asked Craddock what he did for a living. Being an ethical vacationing preacher, Fred said he taught homiletics at the graduate seminary of Phillips University. (Homiletics is the art of preaching. And yes, it’s a thing.) At that point, Ben Hopper pulled up a chair and said, “Well then, I’ve got a story for you.”

"I was born not far from here, across the mountains. My mother wasn’t married when I was born, so I had a pretty hard time. When I started school, my classmates had a name for me, and it wasn’t a very nice name. I used to go off by myself at recess and lunchtime because the things they said to me cut me so deep. What was worse was going to town on Saturday afternoons and feeling like every eye was burning a hole through me, wondering just who my father was.

"When I was about 12 years old, a new preacher came to our church. I would always go in late and slip out early. But one day the preacher said the benediction so fast I got caught and had to walk out with the crowd. I could feel every eye in the church on me.

Just about the time I got to the door, I felt a big hand on my shoulder. I looked up and the preacher was looking right at me. ‘Who are you, son? Whose boy are you?’ he asked. I felt this big weight coming down on me. It was like a big black cloud. Even the preacher was putting me down. But as he looked down at me, studying my face, he began to smile a big smile of recognition. ‘Wait a minute!’ he said. ‘I know who you are. I see the family resemblance now. You are a child of God.’

With that, he slapped me across the rump and said, ‘Boy, you’ve got a great inheritance. Go and claim it.’ The restaurant owner looked across the table at Fred Craddock and said, "Those were the most important words anybody ever said to me, and I’ve never forgotten them." With that, he smiled, shook hands with Craddock and his wife, and moved on to another table to greet old friends.

And as he walked away, Craddock – a native Tennesseean himself – remembered from his studies of Tennessee history that on two occasions the people of Tennessee had elected to the office of governor men who had been born out of wedlock - as if that makes any difference. One of them was a man named Ben Hopper.

Without knowing, we may be sitting next to a Ben Hopper, needing someone to recognize the familial resemblance - here or in the grocery store or at the beach or wherever. (But don’t slap people across the rump. It’s just not a good thing to do anymore.)

I came across a little snippet this week from a person named Michael P. Green. He said, “The sign that you followed Abraham was circumcision. The sign that you followed Moses was keeping the Sabbath. The sign that you followed John the Baptist was that you were baptized. The sign that you follow Jesus Christ is that you love one another.” (I thought about dropping a microphone and walking away at this point, but I didn’t want to be mistaken for a comedian and rapper.)

Within the book of John, there are two other passages that parallel this one that sits between them: one that includes Jesus’ words to wash one another’s feet, and the other in which Jesus talks about laying down one’s life for one’s friends. The love of which Christ speaks spans the mundane to the heroic. And it is by seeing that love acted out that others will know we are Christ’s disciples and that it is possible to live to a higher standard in this world and that it makes a difference.

Chelsey Harmon, of Calvin Theological Seminary, introduces all of us to a Puritan, Thomas Goodwin, who lived in the first 80 years of the 1600s. In Ms. Harmon’s research of this theologian, she uncovered his belief that heaven isn’t a place, but being fully in God’s presence.

In Thomas Goodwin’s words, love is God’s delight. God delights to love us, and God delights in our love for one another. (Note - we’re not talking about “liking” one another - or love based on emotion, but on a decision to love.) He goes on, “God delights when our lives share God’s love because it shows 1. that we trust God’s love to be enough, 2. we relish God’s love and God relishes us relishing God’s love.”

Mother Maria Skobt-sova’ was a Russian Orthodox nun who was also part of the French Resistance during WWII. Although she ended up dying in at Ravensbrück concentration camp, she described the “job” of loving one another, not really as a job, but as a way of seeing, thinking of each person as an icon. Icon paintings guide focus and attention to Christ, not by looking at the icon, but through it. Her point was that seeing each person as an icon, to be honored and venerated, helps us to sense the whole world as one church, with us as windows that have the holiness of the living God upon us.

There are certainly instances and individuals that may seem - from our side of eternity - well beyond deserving such love. I’ve struggled with that - loving someone who seems like they are beyond the pale.

Maybe it’s not very noble, but I can come up with a starting point, dipping my toe into God’s Divine Delight for such a person that seems so vile or unworthy in my eyes. I can at the very least, pray that they have a good night’s sleep.

It doesn’t cost anything, there’s no skin off my nose, I can pray it with all the genuineness of heart, and we are all the better for it. When that prayer settles, it changes to God grant me the ability to pray for more for this same person or what needs my prayerful thoughts and time, and for God to take care of what is not my business. And if that is helpful for someone, so be it. We are all called to love one another.

I don’t know if it caught anyone else’s ear, but the passage begins with Jesus saying, “Now is the Son of Man glorified.” Now - after Judas fled the upper room to go forward with his dirty business. We don’t know if Jesus’ thought included the disciples falling asleep while he prayed and the prediction that Peter would betray him, but “now” that Judas was to do the great evil of relationship betrayal, now Jesus feels “glorified.” It sounds wrong, but the nature of our glory lies in sacrificial love - love that lays our desires from revenge to apathy on the altar of loving one another.

In the opening line of a recent Steve Garnnerss Holmes poem, he started by saying, “Love is not a feeling but an act, a movement of the heart from here to there, of gratitude and reverence for someone, a commitment to their well-being, to share space with them in the circle of being, to being co-members in this Body of life. It is a giving-and-receiving of being. In other words, it is Divine Delight, which is not the same as Turkish Delight, which seems to be like jello squares, so there’s that. So we pray.

God of all Love, thank you for so loving us, that you delight in us. Help us to allow such depth and domain of love to flow over to all those who need to be reminded of their Divine Delight, even should it rub our fur the wrong way. Thank you for being so much more than an icon or an impersonal religion police officer. Help our hearts to love as you love, however that has to happen, that this world can be what you’ve seen it to be, mainly because you do your job and we do our jobs. For loving us and showing us how to love, despite our imperfections of loving one another, all your people say, Amen.

05-08-22 Sunday Sermon

5/8/2022

First Congregational Church
May 8, 2022
4th Week of Easter
Acts 9:36-43
“Living This Age”
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching

I ran across a couple new hymns this week that could possibly show up in a future version of our spiral books. “It Is Well with My Soul, But My Knees Hurt.” “Nobody Knows the Trouble I Have Seeing.”

It is said that Winston Churchill once said, “They begin the Evening News with ‘Good Evening,’ the proceed to tell you what isn’t.
There is also the story that tourists visiting an old, historic church in Alexandria, VA had a tour guide who pointed to a pew and said that George Washington had attended a worship service in that very church, sitting in that very pew. A reverent silence fell over the tourists, and the guide went on to say that church services in Washington’s time were very lengthy, often lasting three hours or more. The reverent silence was shattered when a tourist in the rear loudly proclaimed, “So George Washington slept here, too!”

In all seriousness, I came across a line from the Greek philosopher, (Hair a cly’ tis) Heraclitus, who said no one enters the same stream twice. That’s one I may add to the wall behind my desk. No matter where we are in this world, we are never in the same place twice, simply because any subsequent times we came to that place, we are different simply because of the life, experiences and people who have influenced us since the previous visit.

Acts 9:36-43
36 In Joppa there was a disciple named Tabitha (in Greek her name is Dorcas); she was always doing good and helping the poor. 37 About that time she became sick and died, and her body was washed and placed in an upstairs room. 38 Lydda was near Joppa; so when the disciples heard that Peter was in Lydda, they sent two men to him and urged him, “Please come at once!”
39 Peter went with them, and when he arrived he was taken upstairs to the room. All the widows stood around him, crying and showing him the robes and other clothing that Dorcas had made while she was still with them.
40 Peter sent them all out of the room; then he got down on his knees and prayed. Turning toward the dead woman, he said, “Tabitha, get up.” She opened her eyes, and seeing Peter she sat up. 41 He took her by the hand and helped her to her feet. Then he called for the believers, especially the widows, and presented her to them alive. 42 This became known all over Joppa, and many people believed in the Lord. 43 Peter stayed in Joppa for some time with a tanner named Simon.

Thank you, Sharon. Part of the interesting aspect of this passage is its similarity to Jesus raising Jairus’ daughter and Jesus’ best bud, Lazarus from the dead.

In Jairus’s situation, he asked Jesus to come and heal his daughter, so Jesus did. In Lazarus’ situation, Mary berated Jesus for not having come sooner, that he might have healed him. So raising Lazarus from the dead could have stemmed from a lot of reasons, but for now, we’ll just recognize it’s link to our passage. In Tabitha’s case, Peter wasn’t asked to heal Tabitha, but just to come, maybe to share the difficult time with her friends. It seems that no one expected anything more. Expectations and realities - all so different - with remarkable familiarity.

It’s interesting, too, because this day is also Mothers Day, and of course, that means that each of us is here with a vast array of emotions regarding the said topic - and each year that goes by, our relationship to Mothers Day changes, sometimes dramatically - in good and not so good ways. Jesus raising this person to live again can spark so many emotion receptors, and uffda, that’s a lot of stuff in this room. Which is also a part of this passage.

In another “different” but same place at the river of life, from the situation in Ukraine to a bomb in Havana to Supreme Court leaks to tornadoes and the multitude of other situations, there are emotions that we bring to this death-bed, birthing bed of life - topics that also affect how we hear or turn off this passage.

Whether we are beaming with pride and joy this day, or just hoping that we can keep it together long enough to get out the door, I’d like to share this one piece of truth that I’ve learned. Regardless of where we are on this river of life, there is always one thing, even a very minuscule thing, most times a very basic thing, that can not only shed light but instill hope.

Part of that piece of truth is that there are some parts of our human nature that don’t change, and that’s not such a bad thing. When Peter arrived at Tabitha’s house and the women took him upstairs, without looking back in a Bible - do you remember what they did? They showed Peter the robes and other clothing that Tabitha had made while she was still with them. The same thing is often done at funerals these days.

Whether it’s a beloved teacup or fishing rod or other objects of association, we are often keen to share the joy and preciousness of such articles with those around us. Participating in some of the traditions of life can help us release stress and satisfy our souls in ways that can be beyond words.

Another little nugget of light that comes from this passage isn’t as instantly recognizable but is equally important. We don’t catch it as quickly when we focus on this woman’s name in Aramaic. But when we think about her name in Greek, Dorcas, then we may begin to catch more familiarity. Do a Google search of Dorcas, and you get over 8 million results, many of which have something to do with ministry from food pantries to education to the underserved around the world.

I think it was Scott Hoezee of Calvin Theological Seminary that likened the meaning of Tabitha and Dorcas to a gazelle - in both languages - that today’s person was fleet of foot to help those who needed help. More specifically, there is a subspecies of gazelle named dorcas gazelles - that stand about 2 feet high. That idea of swift helpfulness is one that has survived and thrived all these years later, probably much to Tabitha’s surprise. And it begs the question, what will survive us, long into the future, despite our histories? Just the other day I was thinking that a good sermon title would be: What will your biography be titled? Not for today’s sermon, tho.

The teacher was helping one of her kindergarten students put on his cowboy boots. He asked for help and she could see why. Even with her pulling and him pushing, the little boots still didn't want to go on. Finally, when the second boot was on, she had worked up a sweat. She almost cried when the little boy said, "Teacher, they're on the wrong feet."

She looked and sure enough, they were. It wasn't any easier pulling the boots off than it was putting them on. She managed to keep her cool as together they worked to get the boots back on, this time on the right feet.

He then announced, "These aren't my boots." She bit her tongue rather than get right in his face and scream, "Why didn't you say so?" like she wanted to. And once again, she struggled to help him pull the ill-fitting boots off his little feet.

No sooner than they got the boots off, he said, "They're my brother's boots. My Mom made me wear 'em." Now she didn't know if she should laugh or cry, but she mustered up the grace and courage she had left to wrestle the boots on his feet again. Helping him into his coat, she asked, "Now, where are your mittens?” He said, “I’ve stuffed ‘em in the toes of my boots.”

Next time you help - or watch someone help - a little person struggle with their boots, allow that moment to remind you that sometimes we need to dig a little deeper to find the truth, truth that is neither good nor bad, but information that can bring a sliver of light to that moment.

The interesting thing - about finding that little flash of hope-instilling is how that one piece - that mustard seed of hope light - brightens the path of other little hope lights - and we begin to see larger pieces of hope light - some of those “slivers” lasting long after we are gone.

I was reading an article the other day that the term “mama’s boy” is a flex, not an insult to a new generation of men. For so long, the emasculating term, mama’s boy, was about power and control over others deemed weaker than the one hurling the insult. Today, living in this age, bringing all the pain of the past to the present, looking for the nuggets of truth and light, we become part of the healing of the world and the hope of tomorrow - hope that turns agony and pain into pride and healing.

And that’s how we demonstrate how to follow Christ while following Peter’s steps, in helping someone who is - not so much physically - dead - but emotionally or spiritully - to rise up to new life. Living this age, coming to this passage - at this time in our lives, and taking that one sliver of hopeful truth back to our everyday lives helps all of us live as better followers and inspirations for others to join us.

I was given an article by Dwight Zcheile, one that Rev. Petteys referenced while he was filling in for my sabbatical. At the end of the article, it said, “In an Age of Authenticity, people are looking for authentic expressions of spirituality, community, justice, and hope. That is a good thing. May the church meet them there with the Good News of Jesus.”

This passage can be about a lot of different things, but it is certainly one that gives us the incentive to take the pieces we have and offer them to others as they can use. Jesus isn’t even mentioned in this passage, but allowing this section from Acts 9 to encourage our connections with one another, helps us all live this age to the best of our abilities with all that God has given us, the good along with the not so good.

We may think that our realm of influence isn’t all that great, but that is a flat out mistake. Just during this hour together, just within the confines of these walls, there is so much of the world right with us. From the astounding array of people that come through the door, to family and friends near and far, all our little pieces of light and truth have untold ripple effects. The person next to you may live most of their time miles from this place. Your recognition of them, noticing them, will go with them, and will be shared with others, just because we bothered to look at someone to really see them, to hear their stories.

Living this age, regardless of knee or shoulder condition, or where we are at the stream, living this age is the honor and privilege to join with God in bringing about the world God has seen for us. So we’d better pray.

Holy, Mothering God, thank you for all the ways you reach out to us, regardless of our backgrounds, successes, or failures. Thank you for the slivers of hope-filled truth that somehow grow and expand, that allow us to live in our current moments, doing the best with what we have, for you. Forgive us indifferences and laziness and even our naiveties, and inspire us through those moments that give us awe in our ability to be a part of you and your greater vision. For the blessing of being messengers of your healing and grace and wholeness and light, all your people say, Amen.

05-01-22 Sunday Sermon

5/1/2022

First Congregational Church
May 1, 2022
Third Sunday of Easter
John 21:1-19, Acts 9:1-20
“Not All Scales Are About Fish”
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching

One of the silliest jokes that always seems to make me laugh is the one that questions, what you call a fish with no eyes? Fsh. And what do you get when you cross fishing tackle with an old, smelly sock? Hook, line and stinker. And lastly, what did the pastor say when everyone was getting upset at her fishing puns? I really should scale back.

Before we get to this morning’s scriptures, there is a little clarification that may be a bit of help. There is a reference to someone called “the disciples whom Jesus loved.” We don’t know - exactly - who that is. I think most scholars figure the Beloved Disciple is John - one of the twelve disciples. But there are other thoughts - that it might even be Lazarus, Mary Magdalene or some other unknown priest or disciple, even James, Jesus’ brother or cousin, depending on how the word is translated.

In part because it’s not used in any of the other three gospels, there is thought that maybe the writer of John - used it in modesty. Martin L. Smith, a member of an Anglican religious order for men, thinks that it might be that the writer of John deliberately obscured this person’s name, so that the intimacy of the relationship with Jesus might paint a way for us to have such a relationship with Jesus. Whatever the reason, that’s who the Beloved Disciple is - or isn’t.

One of my own observations is that we catch Simon Peter jumping into the water in this passage, but we don’t always connect the dots that this is not the only time Peter is doing something in the water when Jesus is present, meaning Peter and Jesus “on” the water in a different scene.

John 21:1-19, Leo Hughes
Afterward, Jesus appeared again to his disciples, by the Sea of Tiberias. It happened this way: 2 Simon Peter, Thomas (called Didymus), Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples were together. 3 “I'm going out to fish," Simon Peter told them, and they said, "We'll go with you." So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.

4 Early in the morning, Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus. 5 He called out to them, "Friends, haven't you any fish?" "No," they answered. 6 He said, "Throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some." When they did, they were unable to haul the net in because of the large number of fish.

7 Then the disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, "It is the Lord!" As soon as Simon Peter heard him say, "It is the Lord," he wrapped his outer garment around him (for he had taken it off) and jumped into the water. 8 The other disciples followed in the boat, towing the net full of fish, for they were not far from shore, about a hundred yards.
9 When they landed, they saw a fire of burning coals there with fish on it, and some bread.

10 Jesus said to them, "Bring some of the fish you have just caught." 11 Simon Peter climbed aboard and dragged the net ashore. It was full of large fish, 153, but even with so many, the net was not torn. 12 Jesus said to them, "Come and have breakfast." None of the disciples dared ask him, "Who are you?" They knew it was the Lord. 13 Jesus came, took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish. 14 This was now the third time Jesus appeared to his disciples after he was raised from the dead.

15 When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon son of John, do you truly love me more than these?" "Yes, Lord," he said, "you know that I love you." Jesus said, "Feed my lambs." 16 Again Jesus said, "Simon son of John, do you truly love me?” He answered, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you." Jesus said, "Take care of my sheep." 17 The third time he said to him, "Simon son of John, do you love me?" Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, "Do you love me?" He said, "Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you."

18 Jesus said, "Feed my sheep. I tell you the truth, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go."
19 Jesus said this to indicate the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God. Then he said to him, "Follow me!"

Thank you, Leo. This passage made me think of a lovely little song from Fiddler on the Roof. Those able to have seen some of the Benzie County Community Chorus shows of yester-year may remember Dick Haan and Ginny Freeman singing “Do You Love Me?”

The main character, Tevye, is romantically nostalgic as his daughter, Hodel, is getting married. As he ruminates about the “new world” in which they live, in which love is a high priority in a marriage match, Tevye asks his wife, Golde, “Do you love me?”

Golde, in the midst of wedding preparations, plans and details, replies, “Do I what?” Tevye asks again, Golde begins to become exacerbated with his questioning, so she tells him that the - other - trouble in town is making him upset; that he should go in and lie down. That maybe it’s indigestion.

One of the best moments is when Tevye asks again, “Do you love me?” and she answers him, saying he’s a fool. Tevye - in Dick Haan’s rich bass voice and a half smile on his face says, “I know. But do you love me.”

Golde replies that for 25 years she’s washed his clothes, cooked his meals, cleaned “his” house, given him children, milked the cow, and that after 25 years, why are they talking about love right now.

They reminisce over their fear and shyness when they were married as their parents said that they’d learn to love each other. So Tevye asks again, does she love him. Golde’s answer, “I’m your wife” is not just about the obvious, but the experience of their time together.

But then Golde starts to think. For twenty-five years I've lived with him, fought with him, starved with him. Twenty-five years my bed is his. If that's not love, what is? Tevye continues, “Then you love me?” Golde: “I supposed I do.” Tevye: “I suppose I love you, too. Then, as only in musicals, they both sing to each other the same thing. "It doesn't change a thing. But even so, after twenty-five years, it’s nice to know.

Before Rob gets here to read his passage, I’ll point out that this passage takes place about three years after Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection. Early in the passage, there is a reference to the Way - the group of people who followed Jesus, even after his human life was over. I don’t know who coined the phrase, but one of the ways Congregationalists refer to our practice of following Christ is - the Congregational Way. Interesting….

Acts 9:1-20, Rob Jones
Meanwhile, Saul was still breathing out murderous threats against the Lord's
disciples. He went to the high priest 2 and asked him for letters to the synagogues in Damascus, so that if he found any there who belonged to the Way, whether men or women, he might take them as prisoners to Jerusalem.

3 As he neared Damascus on his journey, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. 4 He fell to the ground and heard a voice say to him, "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" 5 "Who are you, Lord?" Saul asked. 6 "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting," he replied. "Now get up and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do." 7 The men traveling with Saul stood there speechless; they heard the sound but did not see anyone.

8 Saul got up from the ground, but when he opened his eyes he could see nothing. So they led him by the hand into Damascus. 9 For three days he was blind and did not eat or drink anything.

10 In Damascus there was a disciple named Ananias. The Lord called to him in a vision, "Ananias!" "Yes, Lord," he answered. 11 The Lord told him, "Go to the house of Judas on Straight Street and ask for a man from Tarsus named Saul, for he is praying. 12 In a vision he has seen a man named Ananias come and place his hands on him to restore his sight." 13 "Lord," Ananias answered, "I have heard many reports about this man and all the harm he has done to your saints in Jerusalem. 14 And he has come here with authority from the chief priests to arrest all who call on your name."

15 But the Lord said to Ananias, "Go! This man is my chosen instrument to carry my name before the Gentiles and their kings and before the people of Israel. 16 I will show him how much he must suffer for my name." 17 Then Ananias went to the house and entered it. Placing his hands on Saul, he said, "Brother Saul, the Lord--Jesus, who appeared to you on the road as you were coming here--has sent me so that you may see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit."

18 Immediately, something like scales fell from Saul's eyes, and he could see again. He got up and was baptized, 19 and after taking some food, he regained his strength. 20 Saul spent several days with the disciples in Damascus. At once he began to preach in the synagogues that Jesus is the Son of God.

Thank you, Rob. I think it interesting, the pairing of these two fairly well-known passages that are such vivid scenes, even 2,000 years later. Jesus asks Peter and Saul to trust him - even when the possibilities are so crazy big, verging on the impossible. Even though Jesus “knew” everything as God's son, maybe his humanity “just needed to know” if Peter loved him - like Tevye. And maybe the divine Christ’s question wasn’t about Saul’s sight, but how far the soon-to-be Paul would go to ‘receive his sight’ - and I’m not talking about his literal, physical sight here.

So often, even in today’s world, I hear people wondering about the things that happen to them, linking them to a test that God is giving them, to test their worthiness. Truly - I think that’s the wrong way to approach those hard situations. I don’t think that the God of infinite love is about testing us, but about wanting us to know how much God loves us. I wonder if “our struggles” are really only about us struggling, rather than realizing that whatever is going on in our lives that we are sitting in the presence of God, however that is. Maybe the scales on our eyes are not about cataracts or character or how we see ourselves and others, but realizing - God. (pause)

Holy, Eternal, Gracious God, when we realize those times in which scales fall from our eyes and hearts, we are grateful. When we forget or are too busy to see you around us and in us, forgive us. In that strange way that happens when scales of our limits fall away and we can take deeper breaths, thank you. Enable us to help scales fall away - in all the big and little ways we can, especially as we live as Easter people of new life. And for the expansive sight that heals and restores, all your people say, Amen.

May 29, 2022

Sunday, May 22, 2022

Sunday, May 15, 2022

05-08-22 Sunday Sermon

05-01-22 Sunday Sermon

Author

Archives