Monday, February 28, 2011
Sermon: Ad d’Lo Yada
Note: The following sermon was delivered (more or less like it is here) on Sunday, February 27th. It is taken from Matthew 6:24-34 but also heavily inspired by I Corinthians 4:1 and the 4th chapter of the Book of Esther.
In the Book of Esther, good and bad are laid out a plain as day. There is good, his name is Mordechai, a blessed man who seeks to protect his native Jews. Then there is bad, his name is Haman, a cursed commander of the military who plots to wipe the Jews away. Plain and simple, Mordechai is good & Haman is bad, and our book’s namesake Queen Esther, ascends to royal dignity precisely so she can refute Haman, stand up to the King, and save the Jews, her people; “for just such a time as this.” No grey area. No ambiguity. The right & only decision that honors God and saves God’s children is Mordechai. It’s an easy call.
For centuries observant Jews celebrate the Festival of Purim with costumes, gifts of charity, sharing huge feasts, and truly having a great time. Purim is often the favorite of all Jewish holidays. In a way, with a world filled with shades of grey and ambiguity, who wouldn’t love to celebrate a day when the right and wrong thing to do were so clear? Purim highlights Esther’s courage and strength to speak potentially lethal words to her captor, her husband, and king, and in so doing, emphasizes Esther’s courage. Esther is able, fully able, to step into the throne room and speak to her king words that result in her native Jewish population receiving warning of an eminent attack at the hands of Haman. Given the attention on Esther as the able, right-minded, courageous, and strong savior of the Jews, it is peculiar the way the Jewish tradition prescribes a certain celebration in her honor: getting stupid drunk.
The tradition is called Ad d’Lo Yada, and it is found in the collected wisdom of the Rabbis called the Talmud. In a festival filled with fun, food, and charity, getting hammered is a controversial way to honor God. Men are instructed to drink wine to the point of intoxication, to the point when they are no longer able to distinguish the different between “cursed in Haman” and “blessed is Mordechai.” So blitzed, their faculties fail them, and they can no longer tell the difference between Haman, the would-be butcher of the Jews, and Mordechai, Esther’s counsel and the man who shows her a call in this foreign court. So drunk, if Haman and Mordechai walked into the room right now, you would be useless to tell the difference.
Rabbis seeking to figure out the wisdom found in this practice, especially considering drunkenness is despised in much of Judaism, are not of one mind. Some believe it should be avoided, pointing out that the Rabbi who gave such a prescription owned a vineyard. Other Rabbis look for loop-holes, and others still try to offer advice on how to navigate the prescribed drinking. Yet, I am intrigued by the traditions that claim the practice. Not being much a drinker myself, and generally favoring Diet Coke to fine Red Wine, as purely an object lesson, I am taken by the idea of getting smashed to the point when you no longer depend on your ability, your knowledge, your experiences or plans to steer you away from certain death, and trust that God will point you in the right direction. Whatever happens, Haman or Mordechai, you did not rely on anything under your command and placed the matter in God’s hands. It is the ancient Jewish version of that country song, Jesus, Take the Wheel.
Please brothers and sisters, don’t get drunk. Let me say that again: please don’t get drunk. Drinking to excess is bad for Jew and Gentile alike. Drinking to forget, to no longer worry about the rigors of the day is a common cause to take up a bottle but not a good one. I don’t believe I have ever heard a sober rendition of “Don’t Worry Be Happy!” or have been counseled to “just forget about it” by anyone not drunk. The worry-free life seems impossible for those not plied by too much to drink. We have bills to pay, promises to keep, hard decisions regarding life’s realities; we avoid variables like long lines at Giant Eagle lest we get caught waiting, dependent on forces far outside our control. The non-stop news of downsizing, unemployment, increased costs for health care, vanishing Social Security, and the like, don’t lend themselves well to a “biblical approach”, do they? Now is the time for proper vigilance; keeping awake, alert and ready to seize a fleeting opportunity while others slumber. “Today is what we have to prepare for tomorrow”, an economics professor told my whole freshman class in college. He was telling us how we might turn $8,000 now into one-million by the time we retire.
As a nation we have made ignoring Jesus on this specific point of not worrying a matter of civic pride. Our history as a nation has been forged by those who struck out across of western expanse and wrestled for everything they had. Telling the cattle rancher “do not worry” as storm clouds rumble in will pack about as much punch as telling virtually any of you to not worry about filing your taxes or planning for life’s eventualities. The children of God, all the world around, face worry, anxiety, paranoia, and when we hear Jesus tell the comfortable not to pine and worry over being on par with the Jones’ and tell the hungry and poor not to worry as they wonder where the next meal will come from, we might begin to think “Oh, that is just Jesus. He must mean spiritually/symbolically.” We have been saying that a lot as of late. “Love your enemies,” “Be perfect”, and now today “do not worry”; not exactly greatest hits for the human experience.
In Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians he instructs the church to think of him and his ilk as “servants of Christ and stewards of God’s mysteries.” I heard this passage a lot in Seminary. It was the President’s favorite verse and one he used to charge many an incoming class. Like Paul, we should strive to serve Christ and be stewards, be caretakers of God’s mysteries. Perhaps it was Dean’s way of speaking about it, or maybe it was Paul’s simple way of spelling it out, but I saw something about what we do as a church and certainly as individuals as indeed being stewards of God’s mysteries. The holy, the odd, the other, the peculiar way God loves us and creates for us is pretty well summed up in the word mystery. There really isn’t anything that is not mysterious about God. Mysterious is the way in which God loves us, mysterious is the way God operates, mysterious is the way in which God interacts with God’s people, mysterious is the way that God orders the world, mysterious is the way God calls us, and certainly, mysterious is the way God shows God-self in Christ. While the world scratches its head, we claim the mysteries of God and struggle to be their caretakers. We as a church embrace the mystery, sometimes uncomfortably, and in times of true baffling, when an infant dies or tragedy strikes, when nothing makes sense – where do we go? We journey deeper into the arms of God and , and speak out our prayers and pain. Mysteries require a deeper look. Mysteries require a commitment. Mysteries require you make a choice whether to embrace only what you know, only what you can taste and touch, or embrace something bigger than simply knowing all the answers.
When I hear Jesus’ words on the Sermon on the Mount, I hear a call to be participants in the mysteries of God. When an economics professor tells you that $8,000 today could be one-million tomorrow, we hear Jesus point to the birds of the air and the lilies of the field. We are invited to join them. When hundreds of books and seminars hit the shelves each year promising to fulfill whatever you lack, we hear Jesus say you cannot serve two masters. We are invited to seek only righteousness. When the rat-race has got you convinced that what you drive and what you wear are more important that you who are, we hear Jesus say indeed God knows you. We are invited to strive for the Kingdom of God. The true call in these verses is to be people of trust and faith in a God who feed & clothes, who sustains & who is indeed mysterious. As our brothers celebrating Esther’s courage drink to symbolically illustrate God’s care, we too participate in the illogical, mysterious, other-worldly truth that by NOT sowing or reaping we are fed abundantly & by NOT worrying about tomorrow we are clothed perfectly for it. This is the Kingdom of God, not a coming Kingdom, but a call to be citizens today and follow a new King who does not want to fruits of anxious worry but only right relationship. Day by day our call is to focus not on money in the bank, clothes on your back, the car in the driveway, or who the world says you are, but to be in relationship with the mysterious God who frees us to people pursuing righteousness & living into the Kingdom of God with the same freedom as the birds fly through the air, the lilies reach towards the sun, and the grass sprouts in the spring.
In the Book of Esther, good and bad are laid out a plain as day. There is good, his name is Mordechai, a blessed man who seeks to protect his native Jews. Then there is bad, his name is Haman, a cursed commander of the military who plots to wipe the Jews away. Plain and simple, Mordechai is good & Haman is bad, and our book’s namesake Queen Esther, ascends to royal dignity precisely so she can refute Haman, stand up to the King, and save the Jews, her people; “for just such a time as this.” No grey area. No ambiguity. The right & only decision that honors God and saves God’s children is Mordechai. It’s an easy call.
For centuries observant Jews celebrate the Festival of Purim with costumes, gifts of charity, sharing huge feasts, and truly having a great time. Purim is often the favorite of all Jewish holidays. In a way, with a world filled with shades of grey and ambiguity, who wouldn’t love to celebrate a day when the right and wrong thing to do were so clear? Purim highlights Esther’s courage and strength to speak potentially lethal words to her captor, her husband, and king, and in so doing, emphasizes Esther’s courage. Esther is able, fully able, to step into the throne room and speak to her king words that result in her native Jewish population receiving warning of an eminent attack at the hands of Haman. Given the attention on Esther as the able, right-minded, courageous, and strong savior of the Jews, it is peculiar the way the Jewish tradition prescribes a certain celebration in her honor: getting stupid drunk.
The tradition is called Ad d’Lo Yada, and it is found in the collected wisdom of the Rabbis called the Talmud. In a festival filled with fun, food, and charity, getting hammered is a controversial way to honor God. Men are instructed to drink wine to the point of intoxication, to the point when they are no longer able to distinguish the different between “cursed in Haman” and “blessed is Mordechai.” So blitzed, their faculties fail them, and they can no longer tell the difference between Haman, the would-be butcher of the Jews, and Mordechai, Esther’s counsel and the man who shows her a call in this foreign court. So drunk, if Haman and Mordechai walked into the room right now, you would be useless to tell the difference.
Rabbis seeking to figure out the wisdom found in this practice, especially considering drunkenness is despised in much of Judaism, are not of one mind. Some believe it should be avoided, pointing out that the Rabbi who gave such a prescription owned a vineyard. Other Rabbis look for loop-holes, and others still try to offer advice on how to navigate the prescribed drinking. Yet, I am intrigued by the traditions that claim the practice. Not being much a drinker myself, and generally favoring Diet Coke to fine Red Wine, as purely an object lesson, I am taken by the idea of getting smashed to the point when you no longer depend on your ability, your knowledge, your experiences or plans to steer you away from certain death, and trust that God will point you in the right direction. Whatever happens, Haman or Mordechai, you did not rely on anything under your command and placed the matter in God’s hands. It is the ancient Jewish version of that country song, Jesus, Take the Wheel.
Please brothers and sisters, don’t get drunk. Let me say that again: please don’t get drunk. Drinking to excess is bad for Jew and Gentile alike. Drinking to forget, to no longer worry about the rigors of the day is a common cause to take up a bottle but not a good one. I don’t believe I have ever heard a sober rendition of “Don’t Worry Be Happy!” or have been counseled to “just forget about it” by anyone not drunk. The worry-free life seems impossible for those not plied by too much to drink. We have bills to pay, promises to keep, hard decisions regarding life’s realities; we avoid variables like long lines at Giant Eagle lest we get caught waiting, dependent on forces far outside our control. The non-stop news of downsizing, unemployment, increased costs for health care, vanishing Social Security, and the like, don’t lend themselves well to a “biblical approach”, do they? Now is the time for proper vigilance; keeping awake, alert and ready to seize a fleeting opportunity while others slumber. “Today is what we have to prepare for tomorrow”, an economics professor told my whole freshman class in college. He was telling us how we might turn $8,000 now into one-million by the time we retire.
As a nation we have made ignoring Jesus on this specific point of not worrying a matter of civic pride. Our history as a nation has been forged by those who struck out across of western expanse and wrestled for everything they had. Telling the cattle rancher “do not worry” as storm clouds rumble in will pack about as much punch as telling virtually any of you to not worry about filing your taxes or planning for life’s eventualities. The children of God, all the world around, face worry, anxiety, paranoia, and when we hear Jesus tell the comfortable not to pine and worry over being on par with the Jones’ and tell the hungry and poor not to worry as they wonder where the next meal will come from, we might begin to think “Oh, that is just Jesus. He must mean spiritually/symbolically.” We have been saying that a lot as of late. “Love your enemies,” “Be perfect”, and now today “do not worry”; not exactly greatest hits for the human experience.
In Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians he instructs the church to think of him and his ilk as “servants of Christ and stewards of God’s mysteries.” I heard this passage a lot in Seminary. It was the President’s favorite verse and one he used to charge many an incoming class. Like Paul, we should strive to serve Christ and be stewards, be caretakers of God’s mysteries. Perhaps it was Dean’s way of speaking about it, or maybe it was Paul’s simple way of spelling it out, but I saw something about what we do as a church and certainly as individuals as indeed being stewards of God’s mysteries. The holy, the odd, the other, the peculiar way God loves us and creates for us is pretty well summed up in the word mystery. There really isn’t anything that is not mysterious about God. Mysterious is the way in which God loves us, mysterious is the way God operates, mysterious is the way in which God interacts with God’s people, mysterious is the way that God orders the world, mysterious is the way God calls us, and certainly, mysterious is the way God shows God-self in Christ. While the world scratches its head, we claim the mysteries of God and struggle to be their caretakers. We as a church embrace the mystery, sometimes uncomfortably, and in times of true baffling, when an infant dies or tragedy strikes, when nothing makes sense – where do we go? We journey deeper into the arms of God and , and speak out our prayers and pain. Mysteries require a deeper look. Mysteries require a commitment. Mysteries require you make a choice whether to embrace only what you know, only what you can taste and touch, or embrace something bigger than simply knowing all the answers.
When I hear Jesus’ words on the Sermon on the Mount, I hear a call to be participants in the mysteries of God. When an economics professor tells you that $8,000 today could be one-million tomorrow, we hear Jesus point to the birds of the air and the lilies of the field. We are invited to join them. When hundreds of books and seminars hit the shelves each year promising to fulfill whatever you lack, we hear Jesus say you cannot serve two masters. We are invited to seek only righteousness. When the rat-race has got you convinced that what you drive and what you wear are more important that you who are, we hear Jesus say indeed God knows you. We are invited to strive for the Kingdom of God. The true call in these verses is to be people of trust and faith in a God who feed & clothes, who sustains & who is indeed mysterious. As our brothers celebrating Esther’s courage drink to symbolically illustrate God’s care, we too participate in the illogical, mysterious, other-worldly truth that by NOT sowing or reaping we are fed abundantly & by NOT worrying about tomorrow we are clothed perfectly for it. This is the Kingdom of God, not a coming Kingdom, but a call to be citizens today and follow a new King who does not want to fruits of anxious worry but only right relationship. Day by day our call is to focus not on money in the bank, clothes on your back, the car in the driveway, or who the world says you are, but to be in relationship with the mysterious God who frees us to people pursuing righteousness & living into the Kingdom of God with the same freedom as the birds fly through the air, the lilies reach towards the sun, and the grass sprouts in the spring.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Valuing Comfort/Risking Discomfort
Note: The following is my submission for the March 2011 Good News, the newsletter of Boulevard Presbyterian ChurchI am a big guy. I am over six feet tall and 300 pounds. I have long arms, thick legs, and thanks to football, bad knees. I am the poster child for being uncomfortable on commercial flights. The cramped quarters and little leg room mean that I spill out into the aisle (where I like to sit) with my right leg and its bad knee creating obstacles for flight attendants and antsy passengers alike. I am not the guy you like to see boarding the plane; I am not the guy you want sitting next to you. I am an experienced passenger, and know the tricks; I no longer pray for safe flights. My prayer is usually, “Dear Lord, please let this empty seat next to me stay empty.” AMEN
Being uncomfortable is part of flying; a necessary trial that allows for incredible experiences. Standing on the Great Wall of China more than makes up for the prolonged torture I experienced on Korean Air. 14 hours from Seattle to London was instantly forgotten when I heard Big Ben chime. I look back on terribly uncomfortable experiences of travel and compare them to the incredible adventures they afforded, and I can’t justify limiting any potential adventure just because I might be cramped for 5 hours. Yet many people would decide otherwise.
Fear of being uncomfortable arrests so much progress, so many adventures, so many new and exciting paths to explore before the first step is ever taken. And I am not just talking about airline seats either. Comfort is prized so highly - the desire never to be stressed, to be forced into making new decisions, taking unknown leaps, trusting and discovering on the fly - that many will never abandon it no matter what they stand to gain. Many never jump because they don’t know where they will land; we are afraid of being uncomfortable and it is killing us.
Personally and together as a church, can you/can we remember a time when being unsure of how it would all turn out stopped a really good idea or the possibility of a great adventure? Can we/can you think of something we/you have always wanted to do but was afraid to try? I know I can. I think of what it will cost me (money, security, professionally, etc.), what it will require (trying and learning new things, trusting without proof), and what others will think, and rarely weigh what I could gain. I wonder what would have happened if I went into the Peace Corps instead of teaching for two years. Fear of being uncomfortable arrested my adventure, and I wonder at times what God would have done in my life if I would have named my fears and gone ahead into the great unknown. I do not regret (even in the least) the life I lead, and the path I have taken; it continues to be an amazing ride. I do regret not weighing what I could gain against what I could have lost.
As church and congregation, being uncomfortable is part of being faithful. We are challenged by the Holy Spirit to look past the stone walls of Boulevard Presbyterian and claim flexibility. We are challenged to place our trust in a sovereign God who asks us to humbly walk rather than hunker down and ride out the generations. Fads in culture and ministry will pass, and with them opportunities for new ways of thinking and attracting new members. We can’t possibly participate in each and every one but when something special comes along (perhaps it is a community garden?), we must be willing to claim the discomfort that comes with new adventures, and without all the answers walk in the direction the Spirit leads us.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Maybe Not Better But Much Faster
I have created an instant blogging function that allows me to email my posts and they "go live" instantly. By doing, I hope to usher in a new era of poor grammar, misspelled words, & instant blog posts.
I hope this becomes an asset but only time will tell.
Emotional Meteorology
Turns out there is an article out there about "Emotional Meteorology" as though it were a real thing...the following is not a so-called real thing.I am tired of snow and winter. Truthfully, it is just the snow but winter is the snow's accomplice and so they are tried together. I enjoy cold weather. I enjoy snow. Each in moderation which is precisely what we are lacking here in Central Ohio as of late. It has been cold, snowy, dreary, and when it was not those things & the sun peeked through, the winds reminded you of the actual state of affairs. Like many Ohio transplants, I am growing cynical and jaded about the wonders of white Christmases.
But today is a day for some Emotional Meteorology. According to the weather app on my iPhone (it is awesome by the way), Columbus is going to be treated to a high of 56 today and, brace yourself, 62 tomorrow! Central Ohioans from Dayton to Zanesville and Marion to wherever those outlets are on I-71 South will see the sun and be warmed by her rays. Pigment and color will return to the cheeks of those lucky enough to be outside today, and the Columbus Zoo will (I am guessing here) see larger crowds. Even as I type, the sun is shinning through the cloud cover and I think I hear someone in the distance singing Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah. Wait a second...it is coming from inside my office...
I am guessing that the studies I hear about regarding the weather and emotional well-being have enough factual mustard for me to say "people generally feel better when the weather is better", and while I am not sure places like San Diego and Salinas, California have people skipping down the street, here in Ohio the equation is simple: Sun + Winter Months + (Insert Name Here) = More Excited.
Funny thing is, come summer, I am craving the 40 degree days of winter, and now, after months of snow and cold, I am craving the Spring to Summer transition. Life, like the seasons, happens in cycles that naturally create in us a desire to have what is currently unavailable. When it is hot we want it cool, when it is bitterly cold we want it warm, and when it rains during a kids birthday party we wish and sometimes pray for the rains to stop; rains we might have otherwise welcomed. Longing for a shining sun is natural and celebrating nice weather when it arrives is encouraged but the weather provides proof that living involves cycles that neither you nor I can control.
Good times and bad, ups and downs, victories and defeat, and the like are part of being human. We win some and lose some. Sweet victories and goals met. Bitter defeats and broken dreams. All part of being ALIVE. The scriptures I hold to be sacred show me in Matthew 5:45 that both the sun and the rain fall on everyone regardless. In my opinion, we should be willing to embrace the reality of life: things happen both good and bad. The sun will shine again, and the rains will come again each in their season. None experience the metaphorical sun only, and equally, experience only the rains. Living well, being alive means both sun and snow are to be embraced (expect in cases of injustice).
Today I embrace the warmer weather, the small glimpses of the sun, and the satisfaction of the snow melting without the dispensing of salt. Tomorrow I am told there will be the same. The days to come be they rainy and cold or warm and sunny are outside of my jurisdiction. Whatever they bring, I will be ready to embrace reluctantly or otherwise.
For another piece of scripture on this idea of the seasonality of life, check out the Book of Ecclesiastes Chapter 3.
Peace
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Ice Storm 2011
Like most of the nation, Grandview Heights/Columbus, Ohio is getting hit pretty good. Yesterday seemed to be the worst when it came to ice & today we have bitter cold and blowing snow/winds.Here are a couple of shots I took yesterday as I made my way into work:
On the left is a bush that sits outside the West 2nd Ave. entrance of Boulevard Presbyterian Church.
On the right is my car windshield yesterday morning. I took the shot from the inside looking out.
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