Resisting The Cure
Children's sermon
Illustration
Preaching
Sermon
Worship
Object:
As the medical community anxiously scans the horizon for signs of the promised flu pandemic, attention has increasingly focused on the outbreaks of avian influenza in Asia. There is great concern that this "bird flu" could spread to the human population and, as the SARS outbreaks several years ago demonstrated, today's global village offers few barriers to the rapid spread of a new disease. It is no wonder that the "bird flu" has been described as a risk greater than anthrax.
Given the seriousness of the threat, it is not surprising that scientists have been hard at work and have come up with a vaccine to counter avian influenza in poultry. What has proved more difficult is to persuade people to use it. Finally, the other day Thailand, after much foot-dragging, announced a national program to vaccinate all poultry against the disease, in spite of fears about market reaction to vaccinated poultry.
Why does good news so often appear to us to be more trouble than hope? For it is not only Thai poultry farmers who resist urgently needed changes or help. Rare is the pastor who cannot cite multiple instances, at both individual and institutional levels, of consternation and resistance over cures for what ails people or churches or communities. Whether the one in need of healing is an alcoholic, a battered wife, or a declining congregation, it can be difficult to get an admission that there is a problem -- and well nigh impossible to initiate serious work toward a solution.
This week's scriptures offer two rich stories for exploring this phenomenon. Both Samuel and the elders of Bethlehem experience the need to anoint a successor to Saul as an unwelcome intrusion into the status quo. And our gospel portrays a religious community thrown into disarray by an unexpected healing. The denial, suspicion, and outright hostility occasioned by Jesus' action will be familiar to anyone who has tried to bring change to a system.
These passages offer more than the solace of "It isn't just me!" While naming and exploring the typical human resistance to change, they also show some of what it takes to move through this resistance to new life.
Our passage in Samuel follows on the confrontation between prophet and king in chapter 15, where Samuel is required, very unwillingly, to castigate Saul for having failed to properly observe the cherem, or total dedication by destruction, a requirement of holy war. Most of us will be grateful that the lectionary has spared us having to deal with this particular thicket of thorns! We can simply note that Samuel understood God to have revoked Saul's divine appointment to the kingship. And although he had carried out his mission of communicating this without wavering (15:13-35), Samuel evidently lacked the heart to follow up on it. Chapter 16 opens with God acerbically asking the prophet, "How long will you grieve over Saul? I have rejected him."
This is a side of the divine we would rather not be reminded of. We would prefer to have our gentle and compassionate Shepherd who comforts us in our pain. However, when the times call for action, God is not shy about demanding it. This passage recalls God's address to Joshua on the threshold of the Promised Land: "Moses is dead. Now proceed to cross the Jordan" (Joshua 1:2) -- although, on that occasion at least, Yahweh's tone was somewhat more supportive. The fact remains, however, that the Lord is not in the business of coddling his servants. Even Jesus, not disposed to be "gentle, meek, and mild" as he made his final approach to Jerusalem and his Passion, challenged the disciples with: "Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, 'Come here at once and take your place at the table'? Would you not rather say to him, 'Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink'? Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, 'We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!' " (Luke 17:7-10). When times change, God does not waste a great deal of time on commiserating, but calls people into action.
If God seems not to be long on valuing the past, or our feelings about losing it, perhaps it is because we do enough of that without help. Very often individuals and corporate entities get stuck at precisely this stage of failing to come to terms with new realities or pressing needs. It is cold comfort that the scriptures evince little sympathy for this tendency, but rather consistently challenges us not only to smell the coffee but to get out of bed, pour a cup, and get going.
It was not only Samuel who had trouble facing the future. When he unwillingly and fearfully dragged himself to Bethlehem to anoint a son of Jesse, he was met at the gate by the city elders, who came "trembling" and asked, "Do you come peaceably?" (1 Samuel 16:4). The reason for their anxiety is not explicit. It may simply have been the apprehension that accompanies the unexpected appearance of powerful authority figures, but it is also possible that they were aware of the tension between Samuel and Saul (it is hard to imagine the complete absence of courtiers and other observers at the meeting described in chapter 15). The Bethlehem elders probably had no desire to appear to be taking sides. Change is always threatening, and when it threatens powerful people it is even more unwelcome. It is likely that the elders, like Samuel, feared for their lives should Saul get wind of the day's events. Pastors can often point to similar dynamics in their congregations as old guards resist giving way to new leadership -- though the Sunday sermon is probably not the place to name names either implicitly or explicitly!
So a new king is identified. The unexpectedness of God's choice of David, upsetting both the convention of primogeniture and more general notions of royal qualities and qualifications, points to another area in which we may be prone to resisting God's cure: "We've never done it that way before!" The fact that not doing it that way is what has got us to the unenviable place we now find ourselves, rarely feels like a convincing reason to change! God's long history of choosing younger sons and other unexpected servants, however, suggests that, like our grief, our infatuation with tradition is unlikely to find much succour once God decides to act.
Similar issues appear in our Gospel reading. The healing of the blind man in John 9 has often been compared to the healing of the paralyzed man by the pool of Bethesda in chapter 5. In both cases, John has Jesus take the initiative to heal someone who had not requested healing or even approached him; and in both cases the healing resulted immediately in all kinds of trouble and religious conflict for the poor soul. Jesus in both passages disappears right after healing the person, returning later on to challenge and/or encourage the person. This was probably intended to mirror the situation that John's community found themselves: in between Jesus' first and second comings, in the process of rupturing from the synagogue, and often experiencing conflict with family and neighbours as well as with the religious leadership. These are stories crafted specifically to respond to the needs of believers in times of difficult transition. And as with the story of Samuel anointing David, they are not comfortable, feel-good stories!
In John 5, Jesus cuts to the heart of the matter by asking the lame man lounging by the healing pool if he actually wants to be healed (5:6). When the man begins to trot out his list of excuses for why he has not been healed until now, Jesus cuts to the chase and orders him to his feet ... then disappears, leaving the poor fellow to figure out for himself what to do with his unexpected health. When Jesus does seek him out again later on, it is with a rather unnerving challenge: "See, you have been made well! Do not sin any more, so that nothing worse happens to you" (5:14). The implication seems to be that those who choose to hang around the water of life had better be prepared to accept full responsibility for the consequences!
This is underlined in today's passage, where Jesus pointedly has the blind man wash his mud-treated eyes in "the pool of Siloam (which means Sent)" (9:7). Contrary to the way that many North Americans, particularly in mainline congregations, seem to view their church involvement, for John's community it is an act of engagement that is aimed not so much at the well-being of the churchgoer as at placing an unambiguous witness in front of the world. We are healed for a mission. Anyone accepting Jesus' cure may find that there is a marked difference between "well" and "comfortable"!
The blind man's healing promptly throws his whole community into a struggle of discernment: is this unexpected and unconventional event, performed most inconveniently on the Sabbath, of God? As today's church struggles with new forms of worship, new theologies, and new understandings of such matters as human sexuality, a similarly distressing ferment is taking place.
Entrenched religion tries first of all to get a responsible grasp on what has happened: has there in fact been a healing? Is this the man who was blind (vv. 18-23)? Already we see power dynamics distorting people's ability to honestly assess the new situation: the man's parents deny any knowledge of how he came to be healed. Like the elders of Bethlehem trembling before Samuel, they want nothing more than to be left out of the developing dispute. This is a dynamic familiar to all of us from church, community, and even family contretemps: a significant number of people simply will not say what they really think or admit to what they know, if doing so is likely to result in conflict. John nor Jesus, in this story, bothers with these people -- they are not challenged, nor is their waffling allowed to impede the flow of events. Their response is noted and the story moves on without them. (We are not here suggesting that this is a wise or appropriate response for pastors facing such behaviour in their churches!)
Having failed to disprove the miracle, the religious authorities now seek to discredit the healer in the eyes of the healed, by pointing out the discrepancy with accepted belief and practice (vv. 24-34). In an exchange at once comic and breathtaking, the man retorts that he'll go with the evidence rather than the chain of command. Ironically, in a context in which Moses' authority has been invoked (vv. 28-9), this recalls nothing so much as Moses' teaching on how a true prophet is to be recognized: "You may say to yourself, 'How can we recognize a word that the LORD has not spoken?' If a prophet speaks in the name of the LORD but the thing does not take place or prove true, it is a word that the LORD has not spoken. The prophet has spoken it presumptuously; do not be frightened by it" (Deuteronomy 18:21-22). In other words, as Jesus himself said on another occasion, "by their fruits you shall know them" (Matthew 7:15-20). If it looks like a duck ...
To be fair to the synagogue authorities and to the guardians of tradition in our own contexts, it is not always easy to discern which fruit is the holy one. While it may appear obvious to us that restoration of sight was much more an act of God than slavish sanctification of the Sabbath, this was by no means obvious to people for whom the Sabbath was a central commandment of God and a distinctive badge of identity. It was not the healing that was the problem but the challenge to the whole way of understanding and living the faith. This is precisely the issue at the centre of debates on such matters as homosexual marriage and stem-cell research: which "fruit" is of God? It can often seem to be both ... and neither. The Bible is full of such stories of conflict over values, and not a one of them was resolved easily or painlessly.
In this case, the formerly blind man, emblematic for the Christian community, is driven out of the synagogue. At this point Jesus comes to him and invites a confession of faith. The man demonstrates his willingness both to learn and to act on what he learns, asking for clarification and then worshiping Jesus as Messiah. Jesus then speaks challenging words on having come into the world for judgment, to make the blind see and the seeing blind. The polemical point is not left to the reader's imagination: John has Jesus clearly apply it to the Pharisees. Similar polemics have arisen since in the life of the church: not least at the time of the Reformation, a separation that has taken more than four centuries to lose its rancour. (It is within living memory that Catholic and Protestant school children threw apples, stones, and cruel words at each other, even in North America!)
We live in changing times, which are precisely the kind of times that this week's lectionary readings address, though we may wish they hadn't. For it is clear that, so far from shielding the faithful from change, God is more likely to be found in the forefront of it, the skilled shepherd taking charge to hustle the flock through the dangerous canyon between pastures. We can wish all we want that it would be 1950 again; it isn't and it won't be. When we decide that we're ready to get with the program we will discover that, although we feel lost and threatened by the tumult, God is very much in charge. Sometimes what we need is guidance, or a miracle. Sometimes what we need is courage to accept the miracle or guidance when it comes.
Team Comments
Carlos Wilton responds: "I am about to do a new thing," says the Lord (Isaiah 43:19). The prophet's vision of God doing a new thing was revolutionary then; it continues to be so today. The question was -- and still is -- "How do we discern whether or not any given 'new thing' is of God?"
In the nineteenth century American Christians struggled for decades over whether or not slavery is ethically justifiable. Finally, after contentious debates that rent the unity of many denominations -- and after a bloody war between North and South -- the consensus emerged that slaveholding is not permissible Christian behavior.
At roughly the same time, another conflict raged, over whether or not alcoholic beverages -- so destructive of health and family life -- ought to be off-limits for Christians. For a time, in the early twentieth century -- at least in the United States -- the Temperance crusaders prevailed. Yet the ultimate judgment of the church, not to mention society, would be that this "new thing" called Temperance was not God's design. While acknowledging the terrible impact of alcoholism, few Christian ethicists today advocate the absolute temperance viewpoint that was considered essential in the first two decades of the twentieth century.
Here, then, are two examples of "new things": abolitionism and prohibition. The emergence of the first is now generally accepted as being God's will for the church and the world; the emergence of the second is not. How to discern the difference?
What is it that allows Samuel to take the bold step of anointing an unknown shepherd boy as king -- one who is not the oldest son, but the youngest? The scriptures tell us, simply, that God told him to do so. "Fill your horn with oil and set out," says the Lord. "I will send you to Jesse the Bethlehemite, for I have provided for myself a king among his sons" (1 Samuel 16:1b). If Samuel literally woke up one day and heard God telling him to choose David, then his decision would have been relatively easy. It's far more likely, though, that the Lord's instruction to Samuel to fill his horn with oil and set out was heard over a period of time. The retrospective narrative telescopes the process of discernment into a single moment.
Let us always be attentive to the new things that the Lord may be doing in our midst.
George Murphy responds: The possibilities of a serious flu outbreak have been on the minds of people who specialize in such matters. An article, "Worrying about Killer Flu," is in the February 2005 issue of Discover magazine, The January 2005 issue of Scientific American had an article, "Capturing a Killer Flu Virus," about study of the virus that caused the 1918 flu pandemic that killed millions world wide. Use of the word "killer" in the title of both those articles in popular science magazine isn't just a scare tactic but refers to the real threats connected with influenza.
Stories about present-day avian flu and its possible spread to humans have been in the news, but I'm not sure how much they register with the average American. We got worked up over the announcement of a serious shortage in flu vaccine at the end of last year but after a few weeks the concern subsided and some facilities have found themselves with extra vaccine on hand that no one is asking for. Americans have more immediate concerns -- Iraq, severe weather, and changes in Social Security -- to worry about.
Maybe that's one thing to think about in reflecting on this week's texts. If a threat seems fairly distant we don't worry much about it and aren't about to accept any major changes in the way we do things to avert it. The Philistines were a major threat to the existence of the tribal confederation of Israel, and that threat looms throughout the book of 1 Samuel. But probably for a lot of farmers and townspeople in Judah or Ephraim, that threat seemed pretty far away. (Among other things, they had no evening news to watch.) They would have wanted a judge like Samuel to come around periodically to hold court and settle the disputes they had with one another and take care of such business, but shaking up the whole political order would have been something that they didn't bargain for and couldn't see any need for.
And threats can be "distant" in senses other than geographical. It's probably no surprise to be told that diseases like flu are more likely to spread in crowded conditions among people who are relatively weak. There's a very good reason for that which may explain why the influenza at the time of World War I was so deadly. Contrary to what we might think, it isn't in the "best interests" of a virus or bacterium to be as lethal as possible and kill its host quickly. If that happens then the pathogen may have little chance to spread. The types of avian flu that affect migratory birds tend to be relatively mild because those birds have to survive long enough to come in contact with others to pass the virus on if it (the virus) is to continue its work. But the viruses that infect chickens and other domestic fowl in the crowded markets of some Asian cities have plenty of chances to be passed on to nearby birds. Thus they can be more virulent. (Needless to say, this has nothing to do with any planning on the part of the virus! It's a result of natural selection.)
As the Discover article notes, the same idea may explain why the 1918 flu killed so many. It's no accident that this took place near the end of World War I where the virus could infect soldiers in the crowded and unhygienic conditions of the western front and army camps in North America. This virus could be passed from one soldier to another among wounded and thus weakened soldiers in hospitals, and so forth.
And if a disease affects primarily poor people in crowded slums -- well, that's too bad and we may try to help, but it doesn't pose an immediate threat to us who don't live in slums. Again, we won't see any need for major changes in the way we do business. I wonder -- perhaps stretching things a bit -- if that kind of thinking doesn't explain at least part of the reaction of some Pharisees to Jesus in stories like that of John 9. If someone else is blind, sick, or whatever, sure we're sorry for them and would be glad to see them healed -- but the threat isn't so immediate that it calls for a major change like healing on the Sabbath!
Mary Boyd Click Responds: The theme and passages offer a rare opportunity to touch compassionately the "ouch" spots of a congregation. The key, however, is the word "compassionately." Many a minister's insightful balm for a longstanding congregational wound has fallen amiss and had no effect because of the finger-pointing way in which it was communicated. Including oneself in the arena of those who need healing, alongside those who have made mistakes is vitally important, less more consternation come from the "cure." It is a grand opportunity to become "real" in the pulpit and will invite others to take risks to become vulnerable to others as well. Systems change when our defensive barriers come down. Breakthroughs happen. With this text the preacher has an opportunity to become a change agent.
Money has a way of being a cure that can bring a curse of consternation, especially when it comes with strings. It takes a courageous pastor who will address the power of benevolence to bind a community rather than free it. I know of a church in the 1940s that was bequeathed a moderate sum of money to cover the maintenance of its cemetery, a constant bane of upkeep to most churches and ministers. The church welcomed the money and the additional interest it spun off yearly. After thirty years of investment, the trust fund was worth several million dollars, but the church felt ethically bound by the donor's wishes to direct the money toward maintenance of the cemetery. A full time gardener was hired. An expensive iron fence placed around it. PreñCivil War tombstones were restored. Pathways were designed through the cemetery along with construction of a garden house to contain accumulated history. Every year thousands of imported Holland tulips were dug up and thrown away and new ones were planted. The church spent thousands of dollars annually on maintenance of the cemetery and still had thousands left over which they refused to spend on anything but the garden. The church lived in consternation and bondage to that original gift until a courageous pastor came along and decided to address the guilt and fracturing within. One woman over-identified with the garden cause and vowed that nothing would change except over her dead body. Literally that is what happened. After her burial (in the garden, of course!) the church legally secured permission to break the trust and utilize the money for purposes additional to maintenance of the garden. The garden is now the site of community concerts, and the church officers are thrilled to make benevolent use of other funds.
Pastor, ask yourself: What gifts are binding your community and preventing it from doing the faithful work to which you are called? Are you able to touch with compassion that area of your congregation's discomfort and do it in such a way that gives permission to people to talk about the things no one talks about? Can you stand by them to ride out the discomfort that follows while you wait for the healing that will surely come?
Related Illustrations
From Carlos Wilton:
Once there was a congregation that was having a meeting, to discuss a building-expansion program. It was a big proposal; the project would take lots of time and money. Everything seemed to be going fine at the meeting, until a long-time member -- a man of the proverbial "few words" -- rose up, and announced to the assembled company that he was "agin' it."
An awkward silence descended ... but then, someone turned to the man and asked, "Why?"
The man drew himself up to his full height. "I'm agin' it," he said, "because of the chandelier."
"What's wrong with having a chandelier?" The neighbor who asked was new to the church. She didn't understand that the phrase, "I'm agin' it," was meant to close off debate, yanking the project to a screeching halt.
"Well, in the first place," explained the old-timer, "I think it costs too much. In the second place, I doubt we have anyone who could play the thing. And in the third place, what this church really needs is better lighting."
Some people are just "agin' it" -- even if they don't know what it is they're agin'!
***
A classic story from business-management literature was told by management guru Tom Peters. As Peters points out in The Search for Excellence, just over a hundred years ago there was one industry in America that was more firmly established than any other. That business was the railroad.
In the late 1800s, no industry could come close to the railroad in wealth, power, and sheer influence. Steel rails ran from one end of the continent to the other. Everything of importance in our country moved along them.
Then a new invention came along: the automobile. When those first prototype cars were developed, there was one industry in this land -- the railroad -- that seemed ideally situated to exploit this new technology. Only the railroads had the wealth, the manufacturing facilities, the sheer muscle to bring out a product like this. So why did the railroads fail to do so?
The railroad robber barons, Peters points out -- as adept at they were at assembling monopolies and driving their competitors out of business -- made one fundamental mistake. They didn't understand what business they were in. In his words, "they thought they were in the train business. But, they were in fact in the transportation business. Time passed them by, as did opportunity. They couldn't see what their real purpose was."
Sometimes, in the church, we do well to ask ourselves: Are we in the church business or the Christianity business?
***
During World War 1, the British army sent an efficiency expert to the front lines, to try to improve the performance of the artillery crews. The cannons were old; they had once been drawn by horses, but now were towed behind trucks. But they were still serviceable.
The efficiency expert brought with him a bit of new technology: a movie camera, which he used to film the artillery crews as they loaded and fired their weapon. Analyzing the slow-motion films later, the expert noticed something peculiar that was slowing down the gun crews. Two seconds before the gun fired, two men on each gun crew stopped doing anything, and stood at attention until after the gun had fired.
No one could explain why the men did that. It was the way all British gun crews had been trained, and no one knew why. Finally, they brought in an old soldier, and showed him the film. "I know what the two men are doing," he said with a smile. "They're holding the horses."
Tradition is a great thing, but one thing we cannot be caught doing in the church, in this era of rapid change, is "holding the horses."
***
"Don't step on the cracks, or you'll break your mother's back." The cracks in a sidewalk mark the transition from one slab of pavement to another. Even the lore of children recognizes that transitions are hazardous places.
The "cracks" -- the times of transition -- in our individual lives bring out strong emotion:
* putting the kindergartner on the school bus,
* watching the graduate march down the aisle in cap and gown,
* the mother crying at a wedding,
* the once-healthy person suddenly become a patient
* And then there is the greatest transition of all, the transition between death and new life in Christ.
Fearsome ... emotion-laden ... beautiful at times ... always accompanied by anxiety: such are times of transition.
The singer and poet Leonard Cohen has written these words about times of transition:
Ring the bells that still can ring.
Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack in everything.
That's how the light gets in.
("Anthem," (c) 1993 Leonard Cohen & Sony Music Entertainment)
The cracks in our lives -- the times of transition -- are disturbing, but they're often the times when the light gets in.
***
There's a scene in the movie Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade when the intrepid archaeologist/adventurer is fleeing one enemy or another and comes to the edge of a huge and yawning chasm. He stops his forward progress just in the nick of time and teeters there, about to fall in. Then he rights himself, and surveys his situation.
He can't go back; danger lurks there. Yet it seems just as impossible to go forward: that would mean certain death. Then, Indiana Jones reaches down and picks up a handful of gravel. He throws it out ahead of him, over the cliff. The falling stones don't travel far: just a few inches below the level of his boots, they land on an invisible footbridge he never knew was there.
That's not a bad image for the transitional times of life: the passages from one stage to another. Whenever we must say goodbye to the old and embrace the new -- however fearsome and unfamiliar the new may seem -- there may appear for a time to be no way forward. But there is such a way: it just hasn't been revealed yet.
***
You cannot step twice into the same river, for other waters are flowing on to you.
-- Heraclitus, On the Universe
***
The great Christian revolutions come not by the discovery of something that was not known before. They happen when somebody takes radically something that was always there.
-- H. Richard Niebuhr
***
Disconnecting from change does not recapture the past. It loses the future.
-- Kathleen Norris
From Chris Ewing:
Insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results.
-- Twelve Step saying
***
I think of Beyers Naude in South Africa. A white Afrikaans man, leader in the Dutch Reformed Church -- nearly at the top of the ladder in his career. Then, his eyes were opened, and somehow, he began to doubt what he knew. He began to doubt that the DRC's interpretation of scripture regarding "non-whites" was true. He began to question the theological basis for apartheid. He was arrested, stripped of his position in the church and banned -- that is, held under house arrest -- for years. Think about his separation from his community. Think about the pain of beginning to see Christ is a new way. In Ruth Duck's "Ever-Flowing Streams" there is a song, "Sometimes I Wish My Eyes Hadn't Been Opened." Some things to think about.
-- Molly Blythe, in online lectionary discussion "Sermonshop 1996 03 17"
***
We have observed over and over again that unless a congregation is in pain for one reason or another, the strong attraction of the status quo rules out significant change. Lyle Schaller says, "One of the most common mistakes made by those seeking to initiate change is to underestimate the attractiveness of the status quo." (Schaller, Creating Your Own Future!)
Even more important, the pain has to come quickly enough to be noticed. Many congregations watch their numbers slowly decline and fail to react. A participant in the "Congregational Transformation" course we teach for St. Stephen's College told us her large urban congregation had lost 200 people over the past two years, but no one noticed until the minister resigned and people started looking at the attendance figures. It's the frog in the kettle syndrome. Put a frog into a pot of boiling water, they say, and the frog jumps out. If you put a frog in a pot of cold water and turn the burner on, the frog doesn't notice the water getting hot until it is too late. One only has to look at the statistics documenting the number of congregations closing their doors to realize frogs do not have a monopoly on this type of behaviour.
-- Clair Woodbury and Joyce Madsen, Wings Like Eagles: How to Be a Thriving Congregation in the 21st Century (Madsen and Woodbury, Congregational Life Centre, Edmonton, Alta., 2000), pp. 110-111
***
There are stories of people who are cured of their physical blindness by surgery and cannot bear to open their eyes because of the intensity of the color and the disorientation in this new world. They must slowly allow themselves to see a little bit at a time.
-- Ann Fontaine, in online lectionary discussion "Sermonshop 1996 03 17"
***
Those trying to lead systemic change may find the following books helpful:
Edwin H. Friedman, Generation to Generation: Family Process in Church and Synagogue (New York: The Guilford Press, 1985).
William Bridges, Transitions (Reading, Mass.: Addison-Wesley Publishing Company, 1980).
William Bridges, Managing Transition: Making the Most of Change (Reading, Mass.: Addison-Wesley Publishing Company, 1991).
William Bridges, Surviving Corporate Transition (New York: Doubleday, 1988).
William Bridges, Character of Organizations (Consulting Psychiatrists Press, Inc., 1992).
Ford and Osterhaus, The Thing in the Bushes: Turning Organizational Blind Spots into Competitive Advantage (Colorado Springs: Pinon Press, 2001).
Clair Woodbury and Joyce Madsen, Wings Like Eagles: How to Be a Thriving Congregation in the 21st Century (Madsen & Woodbury, Congregational Life Centre, Edmonton, Alta., 2000).
Peter Urs Bender, Leadership from Within (Toronto: Stoddard Publishing, 1997).
Mark Youngblood, Life on the Edge of Chaos (Dallas: Perceval Publishing, 1997).
***
Change is good ... until it happens.
-- bumper sticker
***
"How many [members of your denomination] does it take to change a light bulb?"
"CHANGE??!!??"
***
A ministry colleague tells of a church where it was decided to serve coffee after worship in the open area at the back of the church. Since some of the older members had trouble juggling a coffee cup while standing, the back pew was turned around to serve as coffee area seating. Alas, the back pew was where certain members faithfully sat, and they weren't about to give up their seat just because it no longer faced the pulpit. The Sunday following the change the minister got up to see some very stiff backs facing her! This is true!
Worship Resources
By Julia Ross Strope
Theme: Change disturbs the whole community until new leaders emerge and new vision is articulated by them.
CALL TO WORSHIP (based on Psalm 23)
Leader: Welcome, all of you, this Fourth Sunday in Lent. It's a good day to be among friends as we examine where and how we are experiencing Holy Spirit. Today's scriptures challenge our ability to see -- really see -- what is happening in and around us.
People: We've come here expecting to have our vision clarified; we expect to be strengthened so we can walk on well laid paths even when we are in shadows.
Leader: Here, we find pools of living water, bread and wine, acceptance and hospitality.
People: Surely, God is present among us, nurturing us in all our senses and with ideas to guide us in the coming week.
PRAYER OF ADORATION (based on Psalm 23)
Light of the World, thank you for the various ways you are among us -- for shepherd-like protection, for guidance in ambiguous times, for beauty in Creation, for hope in chaos, for wholeness when we are stressed. For this hour, we give you our undivided attention. Empower us to be clear-sighted disciples of Christ. Amen.
HYMN SUGGESTIONS
"Psalm 23" (any or multiple tunes could be used)
"Christ, Whose Glory Fills The Skies." Tune: RATISBON
"Amazing Grace" (any tune)
"Give To The Winds Thy Fears." Tune: ST BRIDE
"Awake, My Soul, And With The Sun." Tune: MORNING HYMN
"Arise, Your Light Is Come!" Tune: FESTAL SONG
"Be Thou My Vision"
"Deep In The Shadows Of The Past." Tune: SHEPHERDS' PIPES, especially stanzas 1, 2, 3
"O Christ, The Healer." Tune: ERHALT UNS, HERR; This hymn is not well known but the poignant words speak of healing, fear, hope, prayer, friends and the global community. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, 1990, 380.
"The Glory Of These Forty Days." Tune: ERHALT UNS, HERR. Speaks of Moses and Daniel as has having sight. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, 1990, 87
"We Walk By Faith And Not By Sight"
"When Will People Cease Their Fighting." Tune: RUSTINGTON. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, 1990, 401.The conclusion of each stanza speaks to our global situation: liberty, harmony, freedom from pain.
"Wild And Lone The Prophet's Voice." Tune: ABERYSTWTH. Stanza 3 especially speaks of hope, boldness and journey through unknown ways.
CALL TO CONFESSION (based on Ephesians 5)
We are God's people. Our challenge is to live by the teachings of Jesus. During these few minutes, we look within and examine our attitudes, our language and our actions. Let us pray together and then make our personal silent confessions.
COMMUNITY CONFESSION (based on Ephesians 5)
Lover of the World,
We long for your kingdom -- your governance -- for our nation and for the whole world.
Reveal to us our thoughts and behaviors that hide your love.
Remove all darkness within us that neglects to display your grace.
Light our way so we may boldly walk with Christ.
Open our eyes to how you are working for justice and peace.
Open our hearts to collaborate with you.
Amen.
CONGREGATIONAL CHORAL RESPONSE
"Born In The Night, Mary's Child." Stanza 2; Tune: MARY'S CHILD
Clear shining light, Mary's Child,
Your face lights up our way;
Light of the world, Mary's Child,
Dawn on our darkened day.
WORD OF GRACE
Mary's child -- God's child -- grew to adulthood and challenged the routine and regimented procedures by which humans might experience God's affirmation. As we walk in Jesus' footsteps, we, too, manifest hearts and minds open to God's presence. Forgiven and made new we too work to promote fairness and peace. Receive the good news of God's love for you and be at peace with yourself and your world.
CONTEMPORARY AFFIRMATION (based on John 9)
We are people who have been given clear sight by the God-Man, Jesus.
We are people called to challenge institutions and leaders who neglect caring for the poor and disabled.
We are people empowered by Holy Spirit to articulate, to heal, and to offer calmness wherever we are, even when others do not listen.
We encourage one another as we learn to manifest the love of Christ in our decisions and in our relationships.
We will be alert for God, the Holy One, ever present with us in our living and in our dying.
OFFERTORY STATEMENT
Our personalities, our money, our time, and our talents belong to God.
DOXOLOGY
"Let All Things Now Living." Tune: ASHGROVE; the refrain speaks of shadows and light.
PRAYER OF THANKSGIVING
Gracious God, thank you for all the gifts you give us; thank you for the journey we call faith and for who you are making us to be. Keep us flexible and industrious. Amen.
INTERCESSORY PRAYERS
Revealer of Shadows,
We are a global village. Bring out into good light all the leaders of every nation and shine wisdom everywhere. With your Spirit, make clear your hopes for peace in Israel, in Palestine, in Iraq, in Togo -- every place that harbors injustice and violence as a way of life. Brighten every corner-hiding children so they have opportunity to live healthy, play-filled lives.
Hovering Spirit,
Gleam within the Body of Christ throughout the world. Remove the cataracts that cloud our insight; let our eyes and voices sparkle with your genius. Create through us vibrant hope and elastic expectations.
Light for the World,
Our dimness of vision and our atrophy of body remind us that we are mortal. Too soon the years pass and we experience disease, aches, and disappointments. Give us strength for each day; lift us beyond the daily sore points. And grant us your peace. Amen.
BENEDICTION/CHARGE
Go from this place cured: no more blindness of mind and soul.
Be aware that you embody the peace of Christ -- you can soothe many ruffled feathers and fears in a competitive and self-aggrandizing world.
Go from this sanctuary alert to the healing presence of Christ.
Be aware that you have some gentle answers and some pertinent questions about authority.
Go, full of grace, overflowing with mercy.
Share your wisdom with those who seek to be Spirit-enthused.
You are anointed with oil of the Spirit. Let your glow show.
A Children's Sermon
"I once was lost ..."
Object: none
Based on John 9:1-41
The story about the man who received sight reminds me so much of a favorite hymn. See if you can tell me what hymn this is when I tell (sing) you the lines:
"... I once was lost, but now am found;
Was blind, but now I see."
(let them answer) The hymn is "Amazing Grace" which begins with these words:
"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found;
Was blind, but now I see."
Have you ever been lost? (let them answer) I have been lost before. Sometimes I get angry and frustrated because I'm lost. Sometimes I get scared. But when I find the way, I feel so much better.
I've never been blind before, but I can close my eyes and pretend. I find it hard to even think about what it would be like not to open my eyes because of being blind. To be blind and then able to see must be the most wonderful feeling in the world!
God's grace is that wonderful and even more! It's better than being found while lost and better than seeing when blind. God's grace is a way of seeing things in a different way. It is a way of seeing that God is on our side and that God is good and that God loves us. Once we see that, we see a whole new way. Life is wonderful and so much better because of God's "amazing grace."
Jesus once healed a man who was blind. In a way, Jesus heals everyone who comes to know him as Savior and Lord. To know Jesus is to be healed of our sin and given a new lease on life. Just like the man born blind, I can now see God's wonderful, "amazing" grace.
Dear God of Grace: Thank you for loving us just as we are. Amen.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Immediate Word, March 6, 2005, issue.
Copyright 2004 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to The Immediate Word service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons and in worship and classroom settings only. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., P.O. Box 4503, Lima, Ohio 45802-4503.
Given the seriousness of the threat, it is not surprising that scientists have been hard at work and have come up with a vaccine to counter avian influenza in poultry. What has proved more difficult is to persuade people to use it. Finally, the other day Thailand, after much foot-dragging, announced a national program to vaccinate all poultry against the disease, in spite of fears about market reaction to vaccinated poultry.
Why does good news so often appear to us to be more trouble than hope? For it is not only Thai poultry farmers who resist urgently needed changes or help. Rare is the pastor who cannot cite multiple instances, at both individual and institutional levels, of consternation and resistance over cures for what ails people or churches or communities. Whether the one in need of healing is an alcoholic, a battered wife, or a declining congregation, it can be difficult to get an admission that there is a problem -- and well nigh impossible to initiate serious work toward a solution.
This week's scriptures offer two rich stories for exploring this phenomenon. Both Samuel and the elders of Bethlehem experience the need to anoint a successor to Saul as an unwelcome intrusion into the status quo. And our gospel portrays a religious community thrown into disarray by an unexpected healing. The denial, suspicion, and outright hostility occasioned by Jesus' action will be familiar to anyone who has tried to bring change to a system.
These passages offer more than the solace of "It isn't just me!" While naming and exploring the typical human resistance to change, they also show some of what it takes to move through this resistance to new life.
Our passage in Samuel follows on the confrontation between prophet and king in chapter 15, where Samuel is required, very unwillingly, to castigate Saul for having failed to properly observe the cherem, or total dedication by destruction, a requirement of holy war. Most of us will be grateful that the lectionary has spared us having to deal with this particular thicket of thorns! We can simply note that Samuel understood God to have revoked Saul's divine appointment to the kingship. And although he had carried out his mission of communicating this without wavering (15:13-35), Samuel evidently lacked the heart to follow up on it. Chapter 16 opens with God acerbically asking the prophet, "How long will you grieve over Saul? I have rejected him."
This is a side of the divine we would rather not be reminded of. We would prefer to have our gentle and compassionate Shepherd who comforts us in our pain. However, when the times call for action, God is not shy about demanding it. This passage recalls God's address to Joshua on the threshold of the Promised Land: "Moses is dead. Now proceed to cross the Jordan" (Joshua 1:2) -- although, on that occasion at least, Yahweh's tone was somewhat more supportive. The fact remains, however, that the Lord is not in the business of coddling his servants. Even Jesus, not disposed to be "gentle, meek, and mild" as he made his final approach to Jerusalem and his Passion, challenged the disciples with: "Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, 'Come here at once and take your place at the table'? Would you not rather say to him, 'Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink'? Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, 'We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!' " (Luke 17:7-10). When times change, God does not waste a great deal of time on commiserating, but calls people into action.
If God seems not to be long on valuing the past, or our feelings about losing it, perhaps it is because we do enough of that without help. Very often individuals and corporate entities get stuck at precisely this stage of failing to come to terms with new realities or pressing needs. It is cold comfort that the scriptures evince little sympathy for this tendency, but rather consistently challenges us not only to smell the coffee but to get out of bed, pour a cup, and get going.
It was not only Samuel who had trouble facing the future. When he unwillingly and fearfully dragged himself to Bethlehem to anoint a son of Jesse, he was met at the gate by the city elders, who came "trembling" and asked, "Do you come peaceably?" (1 Samuel 16:4). The reason for their anxiety is not explicit. It may simply have been the apprehension that accompanies the unexpected appearance of powerful authority figures, but it is also possible that they were aware of the tension between Samuel and Saul (it is hard to imagine the complete absence of courtiers and other observers at the meeting described in chapter 15). The Bethlehem elders probably had no desire to appear to be taking sides. Change is always threatening, and when it threatens powerful people it is even more unwelcome. It is likely that the elders, like Samuel, feared for their lives should Saul get wind of the day's events. Pastors can often point to similar dynamics in their congregations as old guards resist giving way to new leadership -- though the Sunday sermon is probably not the place to name names either implicitly or explicitly!
So a new king is identified. The unexpectedness of God's choice of David, upsetting both the convention of primogeniture and more general notions of royal qualities and qualifications, points to another area in which we may be prone to resisting God's cure: "We've never done it that way before!" The fact that not doing it that way is what has got us to the unenviable place we now find ourselves, rarely feels like a convincing reason to change! God's long history of choosing younger sons and other unexpected servants, however, suggests that, like our grief, our infatuation with tradition is unlikely to find much succour once God decides to act.
Similar issues appear in our Gospel reading. The healing of the blind man in John 9 has often been compared to the healing of the paralyzed man by the pool of Bethesda in chapter 5. In both cases, John has Jesus take the initiative to heal someone who had not requested healing or even approached him; and in both cases the healing resulted immediately in all kinds of trouble and religious conflict for the poor soul. Jesus in both passages disappears right after healing the person, returning later on to challenge and/or encourage the person. This was probably intended to mirror the situation that John's community found themselves: in between Jesus' first and second comings, in the process of rupturing from the synagogue, and often experiencing conflict with family and neighbours as well as with the religious leadership. These are stories crafted specifically to respond to the needs of believers in times of difficult transition. And as with the story of Samuel anointing David, they are not comfortable, feel-good stories!
In John 5, Jesus cuts to the heart of the matter by asking the lame man lounging by the healing pool if he actually wants to be healed (5:6). When the man begins to trot out his list of excuses for why he has not been healed until now, Jesus cuts to the chase and orders him to his feet ... then disappears, leaving the poor fellow to figure out for himself what to do with his unexpected health. When Jesus does seek him out again later on, it is with a rather unnerving challenge: "See, you have been made well! Do not sin any more, so that nothing worse happens to you" (5:14). The implication seems to be that those who choose to hang around the water of life had better be prepared to accept full responsibility for the consequences!
This is underlined in today's passage, where Jesus pointedly has the blind man wash his mud-treated eyes in "the pool of Siloam (which means Sent)" (9:7). Contrary to the way that many North Americans, particularly in mainline congregations, seem to view their church involvement, for John's community it is an act of engagement that is aimed not so much at the well-being of the churchgoer as at placing an unambiguous witness in front of the world. We are healed for a mission. Anyone accepting Jesus' cure may find that there is a marked difference between "well" and "comfortable"!
The blind man's healing promptly throws his whole community into a struggle of discernment: is this unexpected and unconventional event, performed most inconveniently on the Sabbath, of God? As today's church struggles with new forms of worship, new theologies, and new understandings of such matters as human sexuality, a similarly distressing ferment is taking place.
Entrenched religion tries first of all to get a responsible grasp on what has happened: has there in fact been a healing? Is this the man who was blind (vv. 18-23)? Already we see power dynamics distorting people's ability to honestly assess the new situation: the man's parents deny any knowledge of how he came to be healed. Like the elders of Bethlehem trembling before Samuel, they want nothing more than to be left out of the developing dispute. This is a dynamic familiar to all of us from church, community, and even family contretemps: a significant number of people simply will not say what they really think or admit to what they know, if doing so is likely to result in conflict. John nor Jesus, in this story, bothers with these people -- they are not challenged, nor is their waffling allowed to impede the flow of events. Their response is noted and the story moves on without them. (We are not here suggesting that this is a wise or appropriate response for pastors facing such behaviour in their churches!)
Having failed to disprove the miracle, the religious authorities now seek to discredit the healer in the eyes of the healed, by pointing out the discrepancy with accepted belief and practice (vv. 24-34). In an exchange at once comic and breathtaking, the man retorts that he'll go with the evidence rather than the chain of command. Ironically, in a context in which Moses' authority has been invoked (vv. 28-9), this recalls nothing so much as Moses' teaching on how a true prophet is to be recognized: "You may say to yourself, 'How can we recognize a word that the LORD has not spoken?' If a prophet speaks in the name of the LORD but the thing does not take place or prove true, it is a word that the LORD has not spoken. The prophet has spoken it presumptuously; do not be frightened by it" (Deuteronomy 18:21-22). In other words, as Jesus himself said on another occasion, "by their fruits you shall know them" (Matthew 7:15-20). If it looks like a duck ...
To be fair to the synagogue authorities and to the guardians of tradition in our own contexts, it is not always easy to discern which fruit is the holy one. While it may appear obvious to us that restoration of sight was much more an act of God than slavish sanctification of the Sabbath, this was by no means obvious to people for whom the Sabbath was a central commandment of God and a distinctive badge of identity. It was not the healing that was the problem but the challenge to the whole way of understanding and living the faith. This is precisely the issue at the centre of debates on such matters as homosexual marriage and stem-cell research: which "fruit" is of God? It can often seem to be both ... and neither. The Bible is full of such stories of conflict over values, and not a one of them was resolved easily or painlessly.
In this case, the formerly blind man, emblematic for the Christian community, is driven out of the synagogue. At this point Jesus comes to him and invites a confession of faith. The man demonstrates his willingness both to learn and to act on what he learns, asking for clarification and then worshiping Jesus as Messiah. Jesus then speaks challenging words on having come into the world for judgment, to make the blind see and the seeing blind. The polemical point is not left to the reader's imagination: John has Jesus clearly apply it to the Pharisees. Similar polemics have arisen since in the life of the church: not least at the time of the Reformation, a separation that has taken more than four centuries to lose its rancour. (It is within living memory that Catholic and Protestant school children threw apples, stones, and cruel words at each other, even in North America!)
We live in changing times, which are precisely the kind of times that this week's lectionary readings address, though we may wish they hadn't. For it is clear that, so far from shielding the faithful from change, God is more likely to be found in the forefront of it, the skilled shepherd taking charge to hustle the flock through the dangerous canyon between pastures. We can wish all we want that it would be 1950 again; it isn't and it won't be. When we decide that we're ready to get with the program we will discover that, although we feel lost and threatened by the tumult, God is very much in charge. Sometimes what we need is guidance, or a miracle. Sometimes what we need is courage to accept the miracle or guidance when it comes.
Team Comments
Carlos Wilton responds: "I am about to do a new thing," says the Lord (Isaiah 43:19). The prophet's vision of God doing a new thing was revolutionary then; it continues to be so today. The question was -- and still is -- "How do we discern whether or not any given 'new thing' is of God?"
In the nineteenth century American Christians struggled for decades over whether or not slavery is ethically justifiable. Finally, after contentious debates that rent the unity of many denominations -- and after a bloody war between North and South -- the consensus emerged that slaveholding is not permissible Christian behavior.
At roughly the same time, another conflict raged, over whether or not alcoholic beverages -- so destructive of health and family life -- ought to be off-limits for Christians. For a time, in the early twentieth century -- at least in the United States -- the Temperance crusaders prevailed. Yet the ultimate judgment of the church, not to mention society, would be that this "new thing" called Temperance was not God's design. While acknowledging the terrible impact of alcoholism, few Christian ethicists today advocate the absolute temperance viewpoint that was considered essential in the first two decades of the twentieth century.
Here, then, are two examples of "new things": abolitionism and prohibition. The emergence of the first is now generally accepted as being God's will for the church and the world; the emergence of the second is not. How to discern the difference?
What is it that allows Samuel to take the bold step of anointing an unknown shepherd boy as king -- one who is not the oldest son, but the youngest? The scriptures tell us, simply, that God told him to do so. "Fill your horn with oil and set out," says the Lord. "I will send you to Jesse the Bethlehemite, for I have provided for myself a king among his sons" (1 Samuel 16:1b). If Samuel literally woke up one day and heard God telling him to choose David, then his decision would have been relatively easy. It's far more likely, though, that the Lord's instruction to Samuel to fill his horn with oil and set out was heard over a period of time. The retrospective narrative telescopes the process of discernment into a single moment.
Let us always be attentive to the new things that the Lord may be doing in our midst.
George Murphy responds: The possibilities of a serious flu outbreak have been on the minds of people who specialize in such matters. An article, "Worrying about Killer Flu," is in the February 2005 issue of Discover magazine, The January 2005 issue of Scientific American had an article, "Capturing a Killer Flu Virus," about study of the virus that caused the 1918 flu pandemic that killed millions world wide. Use of the word "killer" in the title of both those articles in popular science magazine isn't just a scare tactic but refers to the real threats connected with influenza.
Stories about present-day avian flu and its possible spread to humans have been in the news, but I'm not sure how much they register with the average American. We got worked up over the announcement of a serious shortage in flu vaccine at the end of last year but after a few weeks the concern subsided and some facilities have found themselves with extra vaccine on hand that no one is asking for. Americans have more immediate concerns -- Iraq, severe weather, and changes in Social Security -- to worry about.
Maybe that's one thing to think about in reflecting on this week's texts. If a threat seems fairly distant we don't worry much about it and aren't about to accept any major changes in the way we do things to avert it. The Philistines were a major threat to the existence of the tribal confederation of Israel, and that threat looms throughout the book of 1 Samuel. But probably for a lot of farmers and townspeople in Judah or Ephraim, that threat seemed pretty far away. (Among other things, they had no evening news to watch.) They would have wanted a judge like Samuel to come around periodically to hold court and settle the disputes they had with one another and take care of such business, but shaking up the whole political order would have been something that they didn't bargain for and couldn't see any need for.
And threats can be "distant" in senses other than geographical. It's probably no surprise to be told that diseases like flu are more likely to spread in crowded conditions among people who are relatively weak. There's a very good reason for that which may explain why the influenza at the time of World War I was so deadly. Contrary to what we might think, it isn't in the "best interests" of a virus or bacterium to be as lethal as possible and kill its host quickly. If that happens then the pathogen may have little chance to spread. The types of avian flu that affect migratory birds tend to be relatively mild because those birds have to survive long enough to come in contact with others to pass the virus on if it (the virus) is to continue its work. But the viruses that infect chickens and other domestic fowl in the crowded markets of some Asian cities have plenty of chances to be passed on to nearby birds. Thus they can be more virulent. (Needless to say, this has nothing to do with any planning on the part of the virus! It's a result of natural selection.)
As the Discover article notes, the same idea may explain why the 1918 flu killed so many. It's no accident that this took place near the end of World War I where the virus could infect soldiers in the crowded and unhygienic conditions of the western front and army camps in North America. This virus could be passed from one soldier to another among wounded and thus weakened soldiers in hospitals, and so forth.
And if a disease affects primarily poor people in crowded slums -- well, that's too bad and we may try to help, but it doesn't pose an immediate threat to us who don't live in slums. Again, we won't see any need for major changes in the way we do business. I wonder -- perhaps stretching things a bit -- if that kind of thinking doesn't explain at least part of the reaction of some Pharisees to Jesus in stories like that of John 9. If someone else is blind, sick, or whatever, sure we're sorry for them and would be glad to see them healed -- but the threat isn't so immediate that it calls for a major change like healing on the Sabbath!
Mary Boyd Click Responds: The theme and passages offer a rare opportunity to touch compassionately the "ouch" spots of a congregation. The key, however, is the word "compassionately." Many a minister's insightful balm for a longstanding congregational wound has fallen amiss and had no effect because of the finger-pointing way in which it was communicated. Including oneself in the arena of those who need healing, alongside those who have made mistakes is vitally important, less more consternation come from the "cure." It is a grand opportunity to become "real" in the pulpit and will invite others to take risks to become vulnerable to others as well. Systems change when our defensive barriers come down. Breakthroughs happen. With this text the preacher has an opportunity to become a change agent.
Money has a way of being a cure that can bring a curse of consternation, especially when it comes with strings. It takes a courageous pastor who will address the power of benevolence to bind a community rather than free it. I know of a church in the 1940s that was bequeathed a moderate sum of money to cover the maintenance of its cemetery, a constant bane of upkeep to most churches and ministers. The church welcomed the money and the additional interest it spun off yearly. After thirty years of investment, the trust fund was worth several million dollars, but the church felt ethically bound by the donor's wishes to direct the money toward maintenance of the cemetery. A full time gardener was hired. An expensive iron fence placed around it. PreñCivil War tombstones were restored. Pathways were designed through the cemetery along with construction of a garden house to contain accumulated history. Every year thousands of imported Holland tulips were dug up and thrown away and new ones were planted. The church spent thousands of dollars annually on maintenance of the cemetery and still had thousands left over which they refused to spend on anything but the garden. The church lived in consternation and bondage to that original gift until a courageous pastor came along and decided to address the guilt and fracturing within. One woman over-identified with the garden cause and vowed that nothing would change except over her dead body. Literally that is what happened. After her burial (in the garden, of course!) the church legally secured permission to break the trust and utilize the money for purposes additional to maintenance of the garden. The garden is now the site of community concerts, and the church officers are thrilled to make benevolent use of other funds.
Pastor, ask yourself: What gifts are binding your community and preventing it from doing the faithful work to which you are called? Are you able to touch with compassion that area of your congregation's discomfort and do it in such a way that gives permission to people to talk about the things no one talks about? Can you stand by them to ride out the discomfort that follows while you wait for the healing that will surely come?
Related Illustrations
From Carlos Wilton:
Once there was a congregation that was having a meeting, to discuss a building-expansion program. It was a big proposal; the project would take lots of time and money. Everything seemed to be going fine at the meeting, until a long-time member -- a man of the proverbial "few words" -- rose up, and announced to the assembled company that he was "agin' it."
An awkward silence descended ... but then, someone turned to the man and asked, "Why?"
The man drew himself up to his full height. "I'm agin' it," he said, "because of the chandelier."
"What's wrong with having a chandelier?" The neighbor who asked was new to the church. She didn't understand that the phrase, "I'm agin' it," was meant to close off debate, yanking the project to a screeching halt.
"Well, in the first place," explained the old-timer, "I think it costs too much. In the second place, I doubt we have anyone who could play the thing. And in the third place, what this church really needs is better lighting."
Some people are just "agin' it" -- even if they don't know what it is they're agin'!
***
A classic story from business-management literature was told by management guru Tom Peters. As Peters points out in The Search for Excellence, just over a hundred years ago there was one industry in America that was more firmly established than any other. That business was the railroad.
In the late 1800s, no industry could come close to the railroad in wealth, power, and sheer influence. Steel rails ran from one end of the continent to the other. Everything of importance in our country moved along them.
Then a new invention came along: the automobile. When those first prototype cars were developed, there was one industry in this land -- the railroad -- that seemed ideally situated to exploit this new technology. Only the railroads had the wealth, the manufacturing facilities, the sheer muscle to bring out a product like this. So why did the railroads fail to do so?
The railroad robber barons, Peters points out -- as adept at they were at assembling monopolies and driving their competitors out of business -- made one fundamental mistake. They didn't understand what business they were in. In his words, "they thought they were in the train business. But, they were in fact in the transportation business. Time passed them by, as did opportunity. They couldn't see what their real purpose was."
Sometimes, in the church, we do well to ask ourselves: Are we in the church business or the Christianity business?
***
During World War 1, the British army sent an efficiency expert to the front lines, to try to improve the performance of the artillery crews. The cannons were old; they had once been drawn by horses, but now were towed behind trucks. But they were still serviceable.
The efficiency expert brought with him a bit of new technology: a movie camera, which he used to film the artillery crews as they loaded and fired their weapon. Analyzing the slow-motion films later, the expert noticed something peculiar that was slowing down the gun crews. Two seconds before the gun fired, two men on each gun crew stopped doing anything, and stood at attention until after the gun had fired.
No one could explain why the men did that. It was the way all British gun crews had been trained, and no one knew why. Finally, they brought in an old soldier, and showed him the film. "I know what the two men are doing," he said with a smile. "They're holding the horses."
Tradition is a great thing, but one thing we cannot be caught doing in the church, in this era of rapid change, is "holding the horses."
***
"Don't step on the cracks, or you'll break your mother's back." The cracks in a sidewalk mark the transition from one slab of pavement to another. Even the lore of children recognizes that transitions are hazardous places.
The "cracks" -- the times of transition -- in our individual lives bring out strong emotion:
* putting the kindergartner on the school bus,
* watching the graduate march down the aisle in cap and gown,
* the mother crying at a wedding,
* the once-healthy person suddenly become a patient
* And then there is the greatest transition of all, the transition between death and new life in Christ.
Fearsome ... emotion-laden ... beautiful at times ... always accompanied by anxiety: such are times of transition.
The singer and poet Leonard Cohen has written these words about times of transition:
Ring the bells that still can ring.
Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack in everything.
That's how the light gets in.
("Anthem," (c) 1993 Leonard Cohen & Sony Music Entertainment)
The cracks in our lives -- the times of transition -- are disturbing, but they're often the times when the light gets in.
***
There's a scene in the movie Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade when the intrepid archaeologist/adventurer is fleeing one enemy or another and comes to the edge of a huge and yawning chasm. He stops his forward progress just in the nick of time and teeters there, about to fall in. Then he rights himself, and surveys his situation.
He can't go back; danger lurks there. Yet it seems just as impossible to go forward: that would mean certain death. Then, Indiana Jones reaches down and picks up a handful of gravel. He throws it out ahead of him, over the cliff. The falling stones don't travel far: just a few inches below the level of his boots, they land on an invisible footbridge he never knew was there.
That's not a bad image for the transitional times of life: the passages from one stage to another. Whenever we must say goodbye to the old and embrace the new -- however fearsome and unfamiliar the new may seem -- there may appear for a time to be no way forward. But there is such a way: it just hasn't been revealed yet.
***
You cannot step twice into the same river, for other waters are flowing on to you.
-- Heraclitus, On the Universe
***
The great Christian revolutions come not by the discovery of something that was not known before. They happen when somebody takes radically something that was always there.
-- H. Richard Niebuhr
***
Disconnecting from change does not recapture the past. It loses the future.
-- Kathleen Norris
From Chris Ewing:
Insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results.
-- Twelve Step saying
***
I think of Beyers Naude in South Africa. A white Afrikaans man, leader in the Dutch Reformed Church -- nearly at the top of the ladder in his career. Then, his eyes were opened, and somehow, he began to doubt what he knew. He began to doubt that the DRC's interpretation of scripture regarding "non-whites" was true. He began to question the theological basis for apartheid. He was arrested, stripped of his position in the church and banned -- that is, held under house arrest -- for years. Think about his separation from his community. Think about the pain of beginning to see Christ is a new way. In Ruth Duck's "Ever-Flowing Streams" there is a song, "Sometimes I Wish My Eyes Hadn't Been Opened." Some things to think about.
-- Molly Blythe, in online lectionary discussion "Sermonshop 1996 03 17"
***
We have observed over and over again that unless a congregation is in pain for one reason or another, the strong attraction of the status quo rules out significant change. Lyle Schaller says, "One of the most common mistakes made by those seeking to initiate change is to underestimate the attractiveness of the status quo." (Schaller, Creating Your Own Future!)
Even more important, the pain has to come quickly enough to be noticed. Many congregations watch their numbers slowly decline and fail to react. A participant in the "Congregational Transformation" course we teach for St. Stephen's College told us her large urban congregation had lost 200 people over the past two years, but no one noticed until the minister resigned and people started looking at the attendance figures. It's the frog in the kettle syndrome. Put a frog into a pot of boiling water, they say, and the frog jumps out. If you put a frog in a pot of cold water and turn the burner on, the frog doesn't notice the water getting hot until it is too late. One only has to look at the statistics documenting the number of congregations closing their doors to realize frogs do not have a monopoly on this type of behaviour.
-- Clair Woodbury and Joyce Madsen, Wings Like Eagles: How to Be a Thriving Congregation in the 21st Century (Madsen and Woodbury, Congregational Life Centre, Edmonton, Alta., 2000), pp. 110-111
***
There are stories of people who are cured of their physical blindness by surgery and cannot bear to open their eyes because of the intensity of the color and the disorientation in this new world. They must slowly allow themselves to see a little bit at a time.
-- Ann Fontaine, in online lectionary discussion "Sermonshop 1996 03 17"
***
Those trying to lead systemic change may find the following books helpful:
Edwin H. Friedman, Generation to Generation: Family Process in Church and Synagogue (New York: The Guilford Press, 1985).
William Bridges, Transitions (Reading, Mass.: Addison-Wesley Publishing Company, 1980).
William Bridges, Managing Transition: Making the Most of Change (Reading, Mass.: Addison-Wesley Publishing Company, 1991).
William Bridges, Surviving Corporate Transition (New York: Doubleday, 1988).
William Bridges, Character of Organizations (Consulting Psychiatrists Press, Inc., 1992).
Ford and Osterhaus, The Thing in the Bushes: Turning Organizational Blind Spots into Competitive Advantage (Colorado Springs: Pinon Press, 2001).
Clair Woodbury and Joyce Madsen, Wings Like Eagles: How to Be a Thriving Congregation in the 21st Century (Madsen & Woodbury, Congregational Life Centre, Edmonton, Alta., 2000).
Peter Urs Bender, Leadership from Within (Toronto: Stoddard Publishing, 1997).
Mark Youngblood, Life on the Edge of Chaos (Dallas: Perceval Publishing, 1997).
***
Change is good ... until it happens.
-- bumper sticker
***
"How many [members of your denomination] does it take to change a light bulb?"
"CHANGE??!!??"
***
A ministry colleague tells of a church where it was decided to serve coffee after worship in the open area at the back of the church. Since some of the older members had trouble juggling a coffee cup while standing, the back pew was turned around to serve as coffee area seating. Alas, the back pew was where certain members faithfully sat, and they weren't about to give up their seat just because it no longer faced the pulpit. The Sunday following the change the minister got up to see some very stiff backs facing her! This is true!
Worship Resources
By Julia Ross Strope
Theme: Change disturbs the whole community until new leaders emerge and new vision is articulated by them.
CALL TO WORSHIP (based on Psalm 23)
Leader: Welcome, all of you, this Fourth Sunday in Lent. It's a good day to be among friends as we examine where and how we are experiencing Holy Spirit. Today's scriptures challenge our ability to see -- really see -- what is happening in and around us.
People: We've come here expecting to have our vision clarified; we expect to be strengthened so we can walk on well laid paths even when we are in shadows.
Leader: Here, we find pools of living water, bread and wine, acceptance and hospitality.
People: Surely, God is present among us, nurturing us in all our senses and with ideas to guide us in the coming week.
PRAYER OF ADORATION (based on Psalm 23)
Light of the World, thank you for the various ways you are among us -- for shepherd-like protection, for guidance in ambiguous times, for beauty in Creation, for hope in chaos, for wholeness when we are stressed. For this hour, we give you our undivided attention. Empower us to be clear-sighted disciples of Christ. Amen.
HYMN SUGGESTIONS
"Psalm 23" (any or multiple tunes could be used)
"Christ, Whose Glory Fills The Skies." Tune: RATISBON
"Amazing Grace" (any tune)
"Give To The Winds Thy Fears." Tune: ST BRIDE
"Awake, My Soul, And With The Sun." Tune: MORNING HYMN
"Arise, Your Light Is Come!" Tune: FESTAL SONG
"Be Thou My Vision"
"Deep In The Shadows Of The Past." Tune: SHEPHERDS' PIPES, especially stanzas 1, 2, 3
"O Christ, The Healer." Tune: ERHALT UNS, HERR; This hymn is not well known but the poignant words speak of healing, fear, hope, prayer, friends and the global community. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, 1990, 380.
"The Glory Of These Forty Days." Tune: ERHALT UNS, HERR. Speaks of Moses and Daniel as has having sight. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, 1990, 87
"We Walk By Faith And Not By Sight"
"When Will People Cease Their Fighting." Tune: RUSTINGTON. Available in The Presbyterian Hymnal, 1990, 401.The conclusion of each stanza speaks to our global situation: liberty, harmony, freedom from pain.
"Wild And Lone The Prophet's Voice." Tune: ABERYSTWTH. Stanza 3 especially speaks of hope, boldness and journey through unknown ways.
CALL TO CONFESSION (based on Ephesians 5)
We are God's people. Our challenge is to live by the teachings of Jesus. During these few minutes, we look within and examine our attitudes, our language and our actions. Let us pray together and then make our personal silent confessions.
COMMUNITY CONFESSION (based on Ephesians 5)
Lover of the World,
We long for your kingdom -- your governance -- for our nation and for the whole world.
Reveal to us our thoughts and behaviors that hide your love.
Remove all darkness within us that neglects to display your grace.
Light our way so we may boldly walk with Christ.
Open our eyes to how you are working for justice and peace.
Open our hearts to collaborate with you.
Amen.
CONGREGATIONAL CHORAL RESPONSE
"Born In The Night, Mary's Child." Stanza 2; Tune: MARY'S CHILD
Clear shining light, Mary's Child,
Your face lights up our way;
Light of the world, Mary's Child,
Dawn on our darkened day.
WORD OF GRACE
Mary's child -- God's child -- grew to adulthood and challenged the routine and regimented procedures by which humans might experience God's affirmation. As we walk in Jesus' footsteps, we, too, manifest hearts and minds open to God's presence. Forgiven and made new we too work to promote fairness and peace. Receive the good news of God's love for you and be at peace with yourself and your world.
CONTEMPORARY AFFIRMATION (based on John 9)
We are people who have been given clear sight by the God-Man, Jesus.
We are people called to challenge institutions and leaders who neglect caring for the poor and disabled.
We are people empowered by Holy Spirit to articulate, to heal, and to offer calmness wherever we are, even when others do not listen.
We encourage one another as we learn to manifest the love of Christ in our decisions and in our relationships.
We will be alert for God, the Holy One, ever present with us in our living and in our dying.
OFFERTORY STATEMENT
Our personalities, our money, our time, and our talents belong to God.
DOXOLOGY
"Let All Things Now Living." Tune: ASHGROVE; the refrain speaks of shadows and light.
PRAYER OF THANKSGIVING
Gracious God, thank you for all the gifts you give us; thank you for the journey we call faith and for who you are making us to be. Keep us flexible and industrious. Amen.
INTERCESSORY PRAYERS
Revealer of Shadows,
We are a global village. Bring out into good light all the leaders of every nation and shine wisdom everywhere. With your Spirit, make clear your hopes for peace in Israel, in Palestine, in Iraq, in Togo -- every place that harbors injustice and violence as a way of life. Brighten every corner-hiding children so they have opportunity to live healthy, play-filled lives.
Hovering Spirit,
Gleam within the Body of Christ throughout the world. Remove the cataracts that cloud our insight; let our eyes and voices sparkle with your genius. Create through us vibrant hope and elastic expectations.
Light for the World,
Our dimness of vision and our atrophy of body remind us that we are mortal. Too soon the years pass and we experience disease, aches, and disappointments. Give us strength for each day; lift us beyond the daily sore points. And grant us your peace. Amen.
BENEDICTION/CHARGE
Go from this place cured: no more blindness of mind and soul.
Be aware that you embody the peace of Christ -- you can soothe many ruffled feathers and fears in a competitive and self-aggrandizing world.
Go from this sanctuary alert to the healing presence of Christ.
Be aware that you have some gentle answers and some pertinent questions about authority.
Go, full of grace, overflowing with mercy.
Share your wisdom with those who seek to be Spirit-enthused.
You are anointed with oil of the Spirit. Let your glow show.
A Children's Sermon
"I once was lost ..."
Object: none
Based on John 9:1-41
The story about the man who received sight reminds me so much of a favorite hymn. See if you can tell me what hymn this is when I tell (sing) you the lines:
"... I once was lost, but now am found;
Was blind, but now I see."
(let them answer) The hymn is "Amazing Grace" which begins with these words:
"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found;
Was blind, but now I see."
Have you ever been lost? (let them answer) I have been lost before. Sometimes I get angry and frustrated because I'm lost. Sometimes I get scared. But when I find the way, I feel so much better.
I've never been blind before, but I can close my eyes and pretend. I find it hard to even think about what it would be like not to open my eyes because of being blind. To be blind and then able to see must be the most wonderful feeling in the world!
God's grace is that wonderful and even more! It's better than being found while lost and better than seeing when blind. God's grace is a way of seeing things in a different way. It is a way of seeing that God is on our side and that God is good and that God loves us. Once we see that, we see a whole new way. Life is wonderful and so much better because of God's "amazing grace."
Jesus once healed a man who was blind. In a way, Jesus heals everyone who comes to know him as Savior and Lord. To know Jesus is to be healed of our sin and given a new lease on life. Just like the man born blind, I can now see God's wonderful, "amazing" grace.
Dear God of Grace: Thank you for loving us just as we are. Amen.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Immediate Word, March 6, 2005, issue.
Copyright 2004 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to The Immediate Word service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons and in worship and classroom settings only. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., P.O. Box 4503, Lima, Ohio 45802-4503.
