The Bishop's Shining Face
Stories
Object:
Contents
"The Bishop's Shining Face" by John Sumwalt
"Three Men and a Savior" by Keith Hewitt
* * * * * * * *
The Bishop's Shining Face
John Sumwalt
Exodus 34:29-35
Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God. When Aaron and all the Israelites saw Moses, the skin of his face was shining, and they were afraid to come near him.
-- Exodus 34:29-35
The bishop's secretary was the first to notice. She mentioned it to one of the custodians. Soon the word was out everywhere in the episcopal offices that something unusual was going on with the bishop.
It was agreed at an impromptu staff meeting around the coffee pot that they would each keep a close eye on his eminence until it was clear what this glowing was all about.
It was known that the bishop spent a half hour in prayer in the chapel each day. He was usually there early in the morning well before anyone else arrived at work. The secretary happened to come in a half hour before her usual time one day -- and that was when she saw him walking down the hall toward his office, his face shining like a bride on her wedding day. She said "Good morning," but the bishop seemed not to hear or see her. It was like he was in another place, oblivious to all around him. And he had a faraway look in his eyes, as if peering into another world.
The secretary said it was something more than the absent-minded professor look. There was an unearthly quality about it, something for which there were no words.
The bishop's assistant, the custodian and the receptionist all happened to come in early the next morning after the coffee pot summit. They positioned themselves in various places along the bishop's route from the chapel to his office, trying to appear busy with something that would pass for work. The secretary showed up not long after these reconnoitering posts had been established and seeing what the others were up to, slipped behind the soda machine and began to unpack some boxes of paper that had come the day before.
When the door of the chapel opened they all saw the bishop's shining face and stood gaping in amazement as he walked past each one with nary a word or a nod, again seemingly unaware of anything but some far off sight that only he could see.
The staff met at the coffee pot again but this time it was quiet all during the pouring and the stirring and the sipping. It was the receptionist who broke the spell: "I wonder if he knows?" The others kind of shook their heads and shrugged. No one knew what to say or do. What they had seen was outside their realm of experience, though they were all faithful Christians. They went quietly back to their desks and nothing was said for several days.
It was after a devotional time led by the bishop in the regular Monday morning staff meeting that one of them summoned the courage to ask, "Bishop, do you know that your face is shining when you come out of the chapel after your prayer time?"
The bishop was a little taken aback at first, and then as if a light had come on, he smiled and said, "I think I know what you mean, though I have not been aware of any physical change. I have been dealing with a difficult issue in the church that has me deeply disturbed and worried. Frankly, I don't know what to do and I am not at liberty to consult with anyone but God. So my prayer times of late have been unusually intense. I have never been more fully present to God because I am so desperate. This is all beyond my abilities to resolve and the well-being of a number of people is at stake."
Then the bishop looked around the table at each member of his staff and said, "Will you pray with me?" They all joined hands and prayed silently with the bishop for over a half-hour. When the bishop said amen, and they stood up to leave the room, each one noticed that the faces of all the others were shining.
John Sumwalt is the pastor of Our Lord's United Methodist Church in New Berlin, Wisconsin, and a noted storyteller in the Milwaukee area. He is the author of nine books, including the acclaimed Vision Stories series and How to Preach the Miracles: Why People Don't Believe Them and What You Can Do About It. John and his wife Jo Perry-Sumwalt served for three years as the co-editors of StoryShare. A graduate of the University of Wisconsin-Madison and the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary (UDTS), Sumwalt received the Herbert Manning Jr. award for parish ministry from UDTS in 1997.
Three Men and a Savior
by Keith Hewitt
Luke 9:28-36 (37-43)
The path down from the summit was mostly a gentle slope, taking advantage of the natural lay of the land, with only a few steep spots here and there, where nature had not been thoughtful enough to provide a continuous easy track. It was on one of these that a handful of pebbles scrabbled out from beneath John's feet and brought him down, causing him to slide downslope a couple of yards before catching himself. A hasty word or two escaped his lips before he could bite them back and from his position thirty or forty feet ahead, Jesus glanced back and said nothing, letting his expression gently rebuke the young fisherman. Seeing that he was uninjured, Jesus kept walking.
He had places to be.
James stopped and leaned down, stretched out his hand to help his brother to his feet. Trying to hide a smile, he said, "Those are the first words you've said since..." He trailed off, not knowing how to complete the sentence. Since what? What exactly did we see back there? Not for the first time in several hours, he found himself thinking about whatever it was they had awakened to see... turned the scene over carefully in his mind, tried to examine it from all angles to see if there was any way they might have dreamed it...
Right. Any way all three of us could have dreamed the same thing. He frowned.
John dusted himself off, put one hand on his brother's shoulder to balance himself while he lifted each leg to look for blood, then looked pointedly at Peter, who had also stopped. "At least I didn't say, 'Oh! We should build some tabernacles!' " He raised his voice to a ridiculous falsetto as he mocked.
Peter's expression bristled immediately, then changed almost as quickly to amusement. "Better that, than, 'Uh... uh... uh...' " He raised his hand and pointed, trembling, as he feigned speechlessness.
"Very funny," John answered, in a voice that didn't really reflect amusement. The three of them started down the trail again, stepping cautiously until the slope leveled off once more. All three men were watching Jesus, now a hundred feet or so ahead, each lost in his own thoughts. Finally, John broke the silence again. "So what did we see back there? And those men -- were they really Moses and Elijah?" His voice dropped nearly to a whisper at the end, as though afraid of invoking the prophets' names.
Before either of the other men could answer, Jesus said loudly, "Yes, they were." He didn't bother turning around and continued to walk down the trail.
John shook his head slightly. "I really don't like it when he does that," he muttered quietly. (Unseen, Jesus smiled gently.)
"So what do you think we saw?" James asked, repeating the question.
"It wasn't a dream," Peter answered. "Not if all three of us saw it."
"I suppose it could have been a vision of some kind," James offered, without conviction.
"Have you ever heard of a vision shared by three men -- four, if you count the Master?" John asked.
Silence answered the question.
"Then I think there's only one conclusion -- the same one you reached, Peter." John looked to Peter, who nodded unhappily. "What we saw was real -- we saw the Master, conversing with Moses and Elijah. And we saw him -- all of them -- glowing. Burning white in the sun."
"I agree," James said softly, looked at Peter, who nodded.
"And then we heard the voice -- we all heard the voice, right?" he tested, shivering as he recalled that most peculiar voice. It came as the cloud had settled upon them, and in some trick of the hills it seemed to come from everywhere around them, bouncing to them as echoes in a valley, but somehow without the delay, so it sounded like a mighty chorus, perfectly synchronized.
"This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to him," Peter answered, recalling the simple sentence -- simple, yet somehow world-shaking. James and John nodded in response, their eyes also far away for a moment.
Some time later, Peter said quietly, "We have heard the Lord God declare that our Master is his son... and we have heard the Master foretell his own death. I think the time nears when the Master will lead us out of our slavery to sin -- and so he talks to Moses, who led our people out of slavery once before. And we have heard him say that a time of judgment is coming -- and so he talks to Elijah, who prophesied to our people about the errors of their ways, and the judgment that would come upon them if they didn't turn back to worship the one true God."
The crunch of sandaled feet on dirt and stone was the only sound for a time before John said, "But what has that to do with our Master's death? And if our Lord God has chosen him, why should he die?"
"I don't know for sure," Peter said honestly. "But I know that he must be the Messiah that Moses and Elijah both foretold. And I know that even though Moses was chosen to lead the children of Israel out of slavery, he had to die before they could reach their destination." He trailed off, let the thought finish itself.
There was another long silence before James stirred himself and asked softly, "Then what do we do?"
"The Master's feet are upon the road that was chosen for him... or that he chose for himself, I'm not sure. Either way, he intends to follow that road to the end." Peter looked down into the valley, where it looked like there were people gathering in the village -- a sight that had become familiar in the last couple of years. They must know he's coming. Watching them, he said, "The Master loved us enough to let us see this moment -- he trusted us, and now we know beyond doubt that he is the Son of God. If he is on this road, then where else could we be?"
"Nowhere else," John agreed after a moment or two. "But I wonder -- how do we ever tell people what we saw? What we heard?"
Peter shrugged. "We've been given the chance to experience a mystery, John, we don't have to explain it, we just have to tell them what happened. And when we do that, we'll just do as we've been taught... tell the truth, and let faith do the rest." He paused, then added, "Faith, and love."
Ahead of them, unseen, Jesus allowed himself a smile, content that he had chosen well. The road ahead was long... but he was sure, now, that he would have company along the way. And one day, soon, they would have even greater mysteries to share.
Keith Hewitt is the author of three volumes of NaTiVity Dramas: Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). He is a local pastor, former youth leader and Sunday school teacher, and occasional speaker at Christian events. He is currently serving as the pastor at Parkview UMC in Turtle Lake, Wisconsin. Keith is married to a teacher, and they have two children and assorted dogs and cats.
*****************************************
StoryShare, February 10, 2013, issue.
Copyright 2013 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. 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., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"The Bishop's Shining Face" by John Sumwalt
"Three Men and a Savior" by Keith Hewitt
* * * * * * * *
The Bishop's Shining Face
John Sumwalt
Exodus 34:29-35
Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God. When Aaron and all the Israelites saw Moses, the skin of his face was shining, and they were afraid to come near him.
-- Exodus 34:29-35
The bishop's secretary was the first to notice. She mentioned it to one of the custodians. Soon the word was out everywhere in the episcopal offices that something unusual was going on with the bishop.
It was agreed at an impromptu staff meeting around the coffee pot that they would each keep a close eye on his eminence until it was clear what this glowing was all about.
It was known that the bishop spent a half hour in prayer in the chapel each day. He was usually there early in the morning well before anyone else arrived at work. The secretary happened to come in a half hour before her usual time one day -- and that was when she saw him walking down the hall toward his office, his face shining like a bride on her wedding day. She said "Good morning," but the bishop seemed not to hear or see her. It was like he was in another place, oblivious to all around him. And he had a faraway look in his eyes, as if peering into another world.
The secretary said it was something more than the absent-minded professor look. There was an unearthly quality about it, something for which there were no words.
The bishop's assistant, the custodian and the receptionist all happened to come in early the next morning after the coffee pot summit. They positioned themselves in various places along the bishop's route from the chapel to his office, trying to appear busy with something that would pass for work. The secretary showed up not long after these reconnoitering posts had been established and seeing what the others were up to, slipped behind the soda machine and began to unpack some boxes of paper that had come the day before.
When the door of the chapel opened they all saw the bishop's shining face and stood gaping in amazement as he walked past each one with nary a word or a nod, again seemingly unaware of anything but some far off sight that only he could see.
The staff met at the coffee pot again but this time it was quiet all during the pouring and the stirring and the sipping. It was the receptionist who broke the spell: "I wonder if he knows?" The others kind of shook their heads and shrugged. No one knew what to say or do. What they had seen was outside their realm of experience, though they were all faithful Christians. They went quietly back to their desks and nothing was said for several days.
It was after a devotional time led by the bishop in the regular Monday morning staff meeting that one of them summoned the courage to ask, "Bishop, do you know that your face is shining when you come out of the chapel after your prayer time?"
The bishop was a little taken aback at first, and then as if a light had come on, he smiled and said, "I think I know what you mean, though I have not been aware of any physical change. I have been dealing with a difficult issue in the church that has me deeply disturbed and worried. Frankly, I don't know what to do and I am not at liberty to consult with anyone but God. So my prayer times of late have been unusually intense. I have never been more fully present to God because I am so desperate. This is all beyond my abilities to resolve and the well-being of a number of people is at stake."
Then the bishop looked around the table at each member of his staff and said, "Will you pray with me?" They all joined hands and prayed silently with the bishop for over a half-hour. When the bishop said amen, and they stood up to leave the room, each one noticed that the faces of all the others were shining.
John Sumwalt is the pastor of Our Lord's United Methodist Church in New Berlin, Wisconsin, and a noted storyteller in the Milwaukee area. He is the author of nine books, including the acclaimed Vision Stories series and How to Preach the Miracles: Why People Don't Believe Them and What You Can Do About It. John and his wife Jo Perry-Sumwalt served for three years as the co-editors of StoryShare. A graduate of the University of Wisconsin-Madison and the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary (UDTS), Sumwalt received the Herbert Manning Jr. award for parish ministry from UDTS in 1997.
Three Men and a Savior
by Keith Hewitt
Luke 9:28-36 (37-43)
The path down from the summit was mostly a gentle slope, taking advantage of the natural lay of the land, with only a few steep spots here and there, where nature had not been thoughtful enough to provide a continuous easy track. It was on one of these that a handful of pebbles scrabbled out from beneath John's feet and brought him down, causing him to slide downslope a couple of yards before catching himself. A hasty word or two escaped his lips before he could bite them back and from his position thirty or forty feet ahead, Jesus glanced back and said nothing, letting his expression gently rebuke the young fisherman. Seeing that he was uninjured, Jesus kept walking.
He had places to be.
James stopped and leaned down, stretched out his hand to help his brother to his feet. Trying to hide a smile, he said, "Those are the first words you've said since..." He trailed off, not knowing how to complete the sentence. Since what? What exactly did we see back there? Not for the first time in several hours, he found himself thinking about whatever it was they had awakened to see... turned the scene over carefully in his mind, tried to examine it from all angles to see if there was any way they might have dreamed it...
Right. Any way all three of us could have dreamed the same thing. He frowned.
John dusted himself off, put one hand on his brother's shoulder to balance himself while he lifted each leg to look for blood, then looked pointedly at Peter, who had also stopped. "At least I didn't say, 'Oh! We should build some tabernacles!' " He raised his voice to a ridiculous falsetto as he mocked.
Peter's expression bristled immediately, then changed almost as quickly to amusement. "Better that, than, 'Uh... uh... uh...' " He raised his hand and pointed, trembling, as he feigned speechlessness.
"Very funny," John answered, in a voice that didn't really reflect amusement. The three of them started down the trail again, stepping cautiously until the slope leveled off once more. All three men were watching Jesus, now a hundred feet or so ahead, each lost in his own thoughts. Finally, John broke the silence again. "So what did we see back there? And those men -- were they really Moses and Elijah?" His voice dropped nearly to a whisper at the end, as though afraid of invoking the prophets' names.
Before either of the other men could answer, Jesus said loudly, "Yes, they were." He didn't bother turning around and continued to walk down the trail.
John shook his head slightly. "I really don't like it when he does that," he muttered quietly. (Unseen, Jesus smiled gently.)
"So what do you think we saw?" James asked, repeating the question.
"It wasn't a dream," Peter answered. "Not if all three of us saw it."
"I suppose it could have been a vision of some kind," James offered, without conviction.
"Have you ever heard of a vision shared by three men -- four, if you count the Master?" John asked.
Silence answered the question.
"Then I think there's only one conclusion -- the same one you reached, Peter." John looked to Peter, who nodded unhappily. "What we saw was real -- we saw the Master, conversing with Moses and Elijah. And we saw him -- all of them -- glowing. Burning white in the sun."
"I agree," James said softly, looked at Peter, who nodded.
"And then we heard the voice -- we all heard the voice, right?" he tested, shivering as he recalled that most peculiar voice. It came as the cloud had settled upon them, and in some trick of the hills it seemed to come from everywhere around them, bouncing to them as echoes in a valley, but somehow without the delay, so it sounded like a mighty chorus, perfectly synchronized.
"This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to him," Peter answered, recalling the simple sentence -- simple, yet somehow world-shaking. James and John nodded in response, their eyes also far away for a moment.
Some time later, Peter said quietly, "We have heard the Lord God declare that our Master is his son... and we have heard the Master foretell his own death. I think the time nears when the Master will lead us out of our slavery to sin -- and so he talks to Moses, who led our people out of slavery once before. And we have heard him say that a time of judgment is coming -- and so he talks to Elijah, who prophesied to our people about the errors of their ways, and the judgment that would come upon them if they didn't turn back to worship the one true God."
The crunch of sandaled feet on dirt and stone was the only sound for a time before John said, "But what has that to do with our Master's death? And if our Lord God has chosen him, why should he die?"
"I don't know for sure," Peter said honestly. "But I know that he must be the Messiah that Moses and Elijah both foretold. And I know that even though Moses was chosen to lead the children of Israel out of slavery, he had to die before they could reach their destination." He trailed off, let the thought finish itself.
There was another long silence before James stirred himself and asked softly, "Then what do we do?"
"The Master's feet are upon the road that was chosen for him... or that he chose for himself, I'm not sure. Either way, he intends to follow that road to the end." Peter looked down into the valley, where it looked like there were people gathering in the village -- a sight that had become familiar in the last couple of years. They must know he's coming. Watching them, he said, "The Master loved us enough to let us see this moment -- he trusted us, and now we know beyond doubt that he is the Son of God. If he is on this road, then where else could we be?"
"Nowhere else," John agreed after a moment or two. "But I wonder -- how do we ever tell people what we saw? What we heard?"
Peter shrugged. "We've been given the chance to experience a mystery, John, we don't have to explain it, we just have to tell them what happened. And when we do that, we'll just do as we've been taught... tell the truth, and let faith do the rest." He paused, then added, "Faith, and love."
Ahead of them, unseen, Jesus allowed himself a smile, content that he had chosen well. The road ahead was long... but he was sure, now, that he would have company along the way. And one day, soon, they would have even greater mysteries to share.
Keith Hewitt is the author of three volumes of NaTiVity Dramas: Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). He is a local pastor, former youth leader and Sunday school teacher, and occasional speaker at Christian events. He is currently serving as the pastor at Parkview UMC in Turtle Lake, Wisconsin. Keith is married to a teacher, and they have two children and assorted dogs and cats.
*****************************************
StoryShare, February 10, 2013, issue.
Copyright 2013 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. 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., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
