Sermon Illustrations for Proper 23 | Ordinary Time 28 (2011)
Illustration
Exodus 32:1-14
It's easy to see and condemn the impetuousness of the Israelites who with their own eyes had seen the miracles God had performed to free them and yet Paul points out that it is part of our sinful nature to worship created things rather than the Creator. Bibliolatry is the worship of a book, such as the Bible, and something easy to fall into as Christians. We should understand how difficult it is to worship an invisible, boundless god without getting caught up in the visible and symbolic things that we are given as tools to help us know him. Throughout the Old Testament, God's people are invited to erect altars and other signs to help them remember him. We need these as a forgetful people. Where the Israelites went wrong here is that in a moment of weakness they forgot that images only point to God and cannot become gods themselves.
Brian H.
Exodus 32:1-14
Grandpa died when Maggie was a baby. As she was growing up, she liked to look at a photo Grandma kept by the bedside. "What is that?" said Maggie. "That's your grandpa," said Gran. Over time, Maggie started to refer to the photo itself as "Grandpa." "I'll dust Grandpa," she said, helping her grandma clean the house. "I dropped Grandpa," she said once when she knocked the photo behind the dresser. Some years later, Grandma remarried. She put the photo of Grandpa in the drawer for a time. When Maggie came to the house, she panicked. "Where's my grandpa?" she asked, breathless, looking frantically behind the nightstand and under the bed. When she couldn't find it, she started to cry. Grandma picked up Maggie and held her on her lap. "There, there," said Gran. She tapped Maggie's heart. "That wasn't your grandpa, baby. That was a picture. Your real grandpa is here. In your heart. Just like he has always been."
Leah T.
Exodus 32:1-14
In the late 1800s, Native Americans were considered "wards" of the federal government. Thus, they had no constitutional rights. Absent of constitutional protection, the Native Americans were herded onto reservations. Once on the reservation, many of the children were taken from their parents and placed in boarding schools so they could be "civilized." Part of the civilization process was to erase their ancient Indian culture and replace it with one that was harmonious with white society.
Zitkala-Sa, whose name was changed to Gertrude Bonnin, recorded her experience in a boarding school. She referred to the individual members of the staff as the "paleface woman." These would be unnamed, impersonal white women who cared for the wards. When Zitkala-Sa heard a rumor that her long black hair was to be cut, she went into a panic. In her culture short hair was worn by cowards. When it became her turn, she resisted and was carried downstairs and tied to a chair. In her book she describes the ordeal as follows: "I cried aloud, shaking my head all the while until I felt the cold blades of the scissors against my neck, and heard them gnaw off one of neck braids. Then I lost my spirit."
When Moses went up into the mountain, he thought he could trust the religious civility of the people he led out of Egypt. When he returned he saw that they had lost their sense of the new religion of the God of deliverance and returned to worship of idols. He called them a "stiff-necked" people. Anyone who is stiff-necked, who loses the true meaning of religious hospitality, becomes like the paleface woman, impersonal and uncaring, cold and heartless.
Ron L.
Philippians 4:1-9
When reading through a book like Foxe's Book of Martyrs or DC Talk's Jesus Freaks, you will often find stories of Christians who met extreme circumstances like imprisonment, torture, and execution with an extraordinary sense of peace and even tranquility. People were known to pray for their executioners while being burned at the stake. One man was even reported to have wrapped the chain binding him to the stake around himself. Our sense of self-preservation and survival is often so strong that to abandon it like these martyrs did is almost unimaginable.
However, whether the situation is martyrdom or perhaps even some form of mild discomfort for the sake of the gospel, we are able to withstand it, not because of our own inner strength, but because of the Holy Spirit in us. "And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus" (v. 7).
Craig K.
Philippians 4:1-9
Pastor Ted Wardlaw describes a communion service he held a number of years ago in Atlanta. On that particular Sunday the communion elements were to be received by intinction, during which individuals would take a piece of bread and dip it in the cup before communing. Usually words such as "the body of Christ" or "the cup of salvation" were used as each person received the elements. Before the service began one of the elders suggested using the apostle Paul's word "Rejoice!" as a preface to the customary phrases. He added that all too often people come forward as though they were about to drink hemlock.
The leaders of worship agreed to use the word "Rejoice!" before saying the other phrases. Pastor Wardlaw realized that many in his congregation were hurting and as the words were said, "Rejoice, Allan… Rejoice, Mary…" he could see through the smiles and the tears what a positive effect this simple word was having on each one.
Richard H.
Matthew 22:1-14
It's like Salvador Dali came into the gospel and painted a story -- Salvador Dali, of the dripping clocks and other surreal paintings. On one level, Dali's paintings seem comical, absurd even. The subjects are ridiculous -- clocks melting in the sun, faces floating like balloons, trees shaped like heads, characters twisted into impossible contortions. But on another level, the images are disturbing -- maybe terrifying. The grotesqueness of the figures unsettles something inside the viewer. These things are absurd but in the way that Tales from the Crypt might be absurd. You go home with an uneasy feeling in the middle of your stomach and it takes you a little longer to fall asleep at night.
Leah T.
Matthew 22:1-14
There usually isn't too much of a problem if someone cannot make it to a wedding for some good reason or another. We send out an invitation by mail and they send back a card with their regrets. In an age of fast, on-demand food preparation, however, we can miss the significance of the king saying, "My oxen and fattened cattle have been butchered and everything is ready." The king could only have prepared the meat ahead of time by confirming attendance beforehand. The excuses being made in the parable aren't in response to a first invitation or a save-the-date; they're responses to "Thanks for coming to my son's wedding. Everything is ready. Come inside and eat!" Moreover, all of the reasons given for backing out are matters for which they would have had abundantly adequate time to make arrangements. No wonder the king was angry with these flakes!
Brian H.
Matthew 22:1-14
When Benjamin Franklin died, late in the evening of April 17, 1790, he had a picture of the Day of Judgment by his bedside. One can assume from the picture that Franklin had accepted his invitation to the wedding banquet.
Ron L.
It's easy to see and condemn the impetuousness of the Israelites who with their own eyes had seen the miracles God had performed to free them and yet Paul points out that it is part of our sinful nature to worship created things rather than the Creator. Bibliolatry is the worship of a book, such as the Bible, and something easy to fall into as Christians. We should understand how difficult it is to worship an invisible, boundless god without getting caught up in the visible and symbolic things that we are given as tools to help us know him. Throughout the Old Testament, God's people are invited to erect altars and other signs to help them remember him. We need these as a forgetful people. Where the Israelites went wrong here is that in a moment of weakness they forgot that images only point to God and cannot become gods themselves.
Brian H.
Exodus 32:1-14
Grandpa died when Maggie was a baby. As she was growing up, she liked to look at a photo Grandma kept by the bedside. "What is that?" said Maggie. "That's your grandpa," said Gran. Over time, Maggie started to refer to the photo itself as "Grandpa." "I'll dust Grandpa," she said, helping her grandma clean the house. "I dropped Grandpa," she said once when she knocked the photo behind the dresser. Some years later, Grandma remarried. She put the photo of Grandpa in the drawer for a time. When Maggie came to the house, she panicked. "Where's my grandpa?" she asked, breathless, looking frantically behind the nightstand and under the bed. When she couldn't find it, she started to cry. Grandma picked up Maggie and held her on her lap. "There, there," said Gran. She tapped Maggie's heart. "That wasn't your grandpa, baby. That was a picture. Your real grandpa is here. In your heart. Just like he has always been."
Leah T.
Exodus 32:1-14
In the late 1800s, Native Americans were considered "wards" of the federal government. Thus, they had no constitutional rights. Absent of constitutional protection, the Native Americans were herded onto reservations. Once on the reservation, many of the children were taken from their parents and placed in boarding schools so they could be "civilized." Part of the civilization process was to erase their ancient Indian culture and replace it with one that was harmonious with white society.
Zitkala-Sa, whose name was changed to Gertrude Bonnin, recorded her experience in a boarding school. She referred to the individual members of the staff as the "paleface woman." These would be unnamed, impersonal white women who cared for the wards. When Zitkala-Sa heard a rumor that her long black hair was to be cut, she went into a panic. In her culture short hair was worn by cowards. When it became her turn, she resisted and was carried downstairs and tied to a chair. In her book she describes the ordeal as follows: "I cried aloud, shaking my head all the while until I felt the cold blades of the scissors against my neck, and heard them gnaw off one of neck braids. Then I lost my spirit."
When Moses went up into the mountain, he thought he could trust the religious civility of the people he led out of Egypt. When he returned he saw that they had lost their sense of the new religion of the God of deliverance and returned to worship of idols. He called them a "stiff-necked" people. Anyone who is stiff-necked, who loses the true meaning of religious hospitality, becomes like the paleface woman, impersonal and uncaring, cold and heartless.
Ron L.
Philippians 4:1-9
When reading through a book like Foxe's Book of Martyrs or DC Talk's Jesus Freaks, you will often find stories of Christians who met extreme circumstances like imprisonment, torture, and execution with an extraordinary sense of peace and even tranquility. People were known to pray for their executioners while being burned at the stake. One man was even reported to have wrapped the chain binding him to the stake around himself. Our sense of self-preservation and survival is often so strong that to abandon it like these martyrs did is almost unimaginable.
However, whether the situation is martyrdom or perhaps even some form of mild discomfort for the sake of the gospel, we are able to withstand it, not because of our own inner strength, but because of the Holy Spirit in us. "And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus" (v. 7).
Craig K.
Philippians 4:1-9
Pastor Ted Wardlaw describes a communion service he held a number of years ago in Atlanta. On that particular Sunday the communion elements were to be received by intinction, during which individuals would take a piece of bread and dip it in the cup before communing. Usually words such as "the body of Christ" or "the cup of salvation" were used as each person received the elements. Before the service began one of the elders suggested using the apostle Paul's word "Rejoice!" as a preface to the customary phrases. He added that all too often people come forward as though they were about to drink hemlock.
The leaders of worship agreed to use the word "Rejoice!" before saying the other phrases. Pastor Wardlaw realized that many in his congregation were hurting and as the words were said, "Rejoice, Allan… Rejoice, Mary…" he could see through the smiles and the tears what a positive effect this simple word was having on each one.
Richard H.
Matthew 22:1-14
It's like Salvador Dali came into the gospel and painted a story -- Salvador Dali, of the dripping clocks and other surreal paintings. On one level, Dali's paintings seem comical, absurd even. The subjects are ridiculous -- clocks melting in the sun, faces floating like balloons, trees shaped like heads, characters twisted into impossible contortions. But on another level, the images are disturbing -- maybe terrifying. The grotesqueness of the figures unsettles something inside the viewer. These things are absurd but in the way that Tales from the Crypt might be absurd. You go home with an uneasy feeling in the middle of your stomach and it takes you a little longer to fall asleep at night.
Leah T.
Matthew 22:1-14
There usually isn't too much of a problem if someone cannot make it to a wedding for some good reason or another. We send out an invitation by mail and they send back a card with their regrets. In an age of fast, on-demand food preparation, however, we can miss the significance of the king saying, "My oxen and fattened cattle have been butchered and everything is ready." The king could only have prepared the meat ahead of time by confirming attendance beforehand. The excuses being made in the parable aren't in response to a first invitation or a save-the-date; they're responses to "Thanks for coming to my son's wedding. Everything is ready. Come inside and eat!" Moreover, all of the reasons given for backing out are matters for which they would have had abundantly adequate time to make arrangements. No wonder the king was angry with these flakes!
Brian H.
Matthew 22:1-14
When Benjamin Franklin died, late in the evening of April 17, 1790, he had a picture of the Day of Judgment by his bedside. One can assume from the picture that Franklin had accepted his invitation to the wedding banquet.
Ron L.
