Comfortable Clothes
Stories
Contents
What's Up This Week
"Transforming Light" by John Smylie
"Comfortable Clothes" by John Smylie
"Waasssszup?" by Frank Fisher
"Ashes For Remembering" by Ron Lavin
"Disillusioned" by Ron Lavin
What's Up This Week
How do you preach about something that everyone has heard many years already? Below you will find several very good stories for Transfiguration Sunday. Also included are stories that will help to get your Ash Wednesday started.
Transforming Light
John Smylie
Luke 9:28-36 (37-43)
The Cursillo movement has evolved in many different directions over the years. Cursillo is a short course in Christianity and at its best it assists those who participate in it in becoming leaders in their local church. Though it was originally a Roman Catholic renewal experience, it has expanded over the years into other mainline denominations. Originally the movement served men only; eventually it grew to serve women as well and now some variations of it include weekends for teenagers as well as young adults.
I knew a young man who went on one of these variations of the Cursillo movement. At the time he attended he was a teenager. He was already recognized as a leader among his peers, being a three-sport varsity athlete, an honor roll student, and a Boy Scout. He was a pretty quiet kid and his life was not as easy as it may have appeared on the outside. His parents divorced when he was just a very little boy. As a child he bounced back and forth between their two homes. Every Tuesday night and every other weekend spending the night with his father, the rest of the time he was with his mother. Like most children whose parents have been divorced, he longed for his parents to get back together, and yet the reality was very clear that that would never happen. He didn't want to see that.
Eleven years after his parents had divorced, his mother remarried. Though on the surface he tried to appear pleased for his mother, internally this change was difficult for him. Now it was abundantly clear that his parents would never get back together. Two years after his mother remarried when he was age fifteen he was invited to participate in a, "Happening" weekend. A few of his friends had experienced a "Happening" weekend before him and had encouraged him to attend. They described the experience as awesome. His mother and stepfather also encouraged him to go on the renewal weekend. They both had experienced the movement and believed he was ready for the mountaintop experience it so often provides those who participate in it.
He went and gave himself fully to the experience.
When he returned home on a Sunday evening, he was riding high while at the same time he was tired from all the activities and excitement. It was clear he had been stretched by the teaching and challenged by the call to commitment. He came home from that experience with a new excitement for his faith. He had been on a mountaintop and he couldn't sleep that night. He wanted to talk and listening to him was a wonderful experience for his mother and stepfather. They were delighted to see how the Lord had brought God's light to him through the faithful community that served him during the weekend.
At the end of the conversation that Sunday night he looked toward his stepfather and said, "There's something I've got to tell you, but I'm not ready to tell you right at this moment."
His stepfather replied, "Whenever you are ready I'm here to listen to you."
Three days later the boy's stepfather began to wonder if whatever it was that his stepson desired to share was ever going to come to the light of day. Another day past when finally the boy told his stepfather, "I'm ready to share with you now."
The two of them went to a room in the house where they could be alone and undisturbed.
The boy seemed to be struggling. He was naturally a quiet kid and it seemed as if the sharing was a great leap of faith. He held his head down as his stepfather sat across from him waiting for him to speak. Finally, he looked up close to tears and with a pained expression on his face said, "You know, when you married my mom, that was really hard for me. I want my mom to be happy, but it was really hard to have you come into my life and my family. What I realized over the weekend was that God has brought you to my life."
This vulnerable and intimate sharing stunned his stepfather, he didn't know what to say, perhaps there was nothing to say. He simply received the gracious words of his stepson, words that demonstrated maturity far beyond the fifteen years of the boy's life and expressed his gratitude by taking the boy into his arms and surrounding him with a strong embrace.
It seems to me whenever we encounter the living God, whenever we experience the radiant face of our Lord Jesus Christ, whenever we dare to come in to the real presence of the holy, we are changed and strengthen to brighten the real and challenging every day world in which we live, just like this young man who was strengthened by God's transforming light and love overcame himself by reaching out beyond himself.
Comfortable Clothes
John Smylie
Luke 9:28-36 (37-43)
I consider it a very fortunate thing that God made me a man and not a woman. I don't think any amount of makeup would do a bit of good in transforming the way I look. I know this is a particularly sexist statement, and I suspect if God had made me a woman that I wouldn't want to be a man. Nevertheless, I must admit I'm very thankful that God made me as I am. One of the ever humorous aspects of being married and sharing life with a wonderful woman is discovering how different we are when it comes to preparing ourselves for going out of the house. For me, all at takes is a shower and a shampoo, a quick shave, and the appropriate clothes. Usually five to ten minutes is all I need to transform this somewhat shabby body into one that is at least presentable to the outside world.
I think women must have higher standards because as I watch my wife prepare herself to face the public, I am amazed at her patience and her persistence. With self-effacing humor she describes her efforts as putting a little paint on the barn. Personally, I think she looks just terrific without all the makeup, but I have to admit when she is finished with her creation she does look really fine. I wonder what it is about going into the public eye that causes us to feel the need to fix ourselves up. Perhaps it is a desire to be respectful of the other. Perhaps as we go out into the public eye we are venturing into the unknown and our improved appearance provides us with a kind of armor. I do find it interesting, though, that the people with whom we are most intimate are those with whom we need the least amount of covering. After a day of work or a night on the town, it's good to come home and put on our comfortable clothes or remove the makeup and get under the covers.
As Jesus and his disciples share in the mountaintop experience and everything is stripped away but the pure and powerful light of God, we discover an intense moment of intimacy. For Jesus, these moments on the mountaintop, sharing fellowship with Moses and Elijah may be the kind of moment you and I share when we finally get to be in our own comfortable space at the end of a long and tiring day. Climbing the mountain, followed by time on its summit with three of his disciples, it appears as if Jesus is inviting them to his life back home at the end of the day -- his true home -- in the presence of God's light and power. In a sense Jesus is inviting his disciples into more comfortable clothes, into their true nature. It's as if Jesus is stripped of the camouflage of his mortal body and the original nature of his divinity and a foretaste of his resurrection becomes apparent. For Jesus this may be his most natural environment and yet for the disciples, as they enter and engage the pure light of God in their friend and companion Jesus, they find themselves at a loss. Speaking metaphorically it seems as if the disciples want to put on a thick coat of makeup and hide themselves in the formality of traditional forms of worship -- building booths.
The experience of the Transfiguration may be a kind of makeup remover for us. The gospel text and our Lord seem to be inviting us to the good news of intimacy with the Almighty. We may want to ask ourselves if we are ready and willing to follow our Lord and engage him in his nearly overwhelming desire for intimacy with us. As we open ourselves to the radiant light upon Jesus' face, we may discover our Lord's vision for each of us as well.
John Smylie was ordained deacon and priest in 1982. He has a broad range of experience in parish ministry, having served in rural, suburban, and urban settings. John is a published author and storyteller as well as a singer-songwriter. He has recently completed 25 stories focusing on grace, Grace for Today. This work explores how grace, loss, and restoration are part of the same fabric. Presently John is engaged in writing playful songs for the child in us all as well as melodic, accessible, and prayerful music for worship. All of his presentations weave his several gifts into a cohesive and creative encounter with the Holy. He says, "A relationship with the living God is like a dance; as the music changes, new steps must be learned."
Waasssszup?
Frank Fisher
Exodus 34:29-35
"Hey Moses! Waasssszup?"
Your brother Moses turns to you with a look of supreme irritation in his eyes.
"Aaron," he thunders, "how many times have I told you not to use Egyptian slang? It's demeaning for a priest of the Most High God to use language like you do!"
You sigh gently as you remember; Moses has absolutely no sense of humor. But he is your brother. So you continue your possibly vain attempt to hold a pleasant conversation. "I just wanted you know what's up with you," you gently reply. "You look... you know, a bit... different. Your face is all shiny. I thought your skin cleared up while we were still kids."
"Ooops," you say to yourself. "I forgot the sense of humor thing again." But for some strange reason Moses looks puzzled instead of angry. "What do you mean?" he asks. "What's wrong with my face?"
"Well, it looks like its glowing," you answer him. "What were you doing up there on the mountain? There was a cloud up there that looked like the pillar I've seen by the tabernacle. And what's carved on the stone tablets you're carrying?"
"All in good time," your brother shoots back. "Gather the people together. I only want to explain this once."
You obey your brother's words without argument for a change. Its not that you've changed into an obedient little brother all of a sudden. But you realize something about Moses has changed. And you're curious to know what happened to him up there on Mount Sinai.
It takes a while. But finally you, and the congregation's leaders succeed in rounding up all the people. Then Moses stands before them and holds up the tablets of stone for their inspection. "I've seen the Lord," he announces as the people gasp with wonder. "What is written here in stone are the commandments the Lord gives to me and to you."
You listen with your heart filled with wonder while Moses speaks of the commandments. Your sense of awe grows as he then continues to tell of all that transpired upon the mountain.
"Its no wonder his face glows," you think to yourself. "For no one could encounter the Holy One and be unchanged." Finally, Moses finishes his speech. But as the crowd disperses he turns to you smiles and says, "Hey Aaron! Waasssszup?"
"I don't know Moses," returns your slightly stunned reply. "What is up?"
Moses' smile broadens as he points upward toward Mount Sinai. "The Lord is up Aaron," he shouts to the sky. " The LORD is king; let the peoples tremble! The Lord sits enthroned upon the cherubim; let the earth quake! The LORD is great in Zion; and is exalted over all the peoples. Let them praise God's great and awesome name. Holy is the Lord!"
"Hey Jesus! Waasssszup?" You clasp your hands over your mouth and you wish that you could hide somewhere to cover your embarrassment. For your name is Peter and you realize its not quite proper to talk to Jesus that way. But Jesus simply smiles patiently at you. "In a little while we'll be up," he says. Then he points upward toward the mountain looming before you. Your heart sinks a bit when you see where he's pointing. Jesus, it seems, wants to go mountain climbing.
You've got to admit you'd been having it a little easy for the last eight days. And a good thing that was, too. You needed a break since you're still tired out from all this time you've spent tramping around Galilee. You know Jesus said he had no place to lay his head. But you really didn't take that literally until you left your nets and went on the road with him. After that, it was exhaustion city! So the last eight days rest has been kind of nice. Only you wish those days wouldn't be followed by a trek up this mountain.
Jesus apparently understands your reluctance toward increasing vertical travel. But his understanding doesn't seem to deter him; instead just glances at you with an enormously patient look. Then he turns around, and begins heading up the mountain.
Despite your exhaustion you've no intention of leaving Jesus' side. So you sigh deeply once or twice, and bend down to retie your sandals. Then you look upward at the climb you've got to make, and slowly follow Jesus up the mountainside.
Then almost before you know it you're at the summit. You start to collapse on the ground to catch your breath. The ground begins to feel very comfortable and you almost fall asleep. Then suddenly your eyes and mind snap into complete alertness. Your mouth drops open as you watch the scene that's unfolding before you. The simple homespun robe Jesus was wearing has been changed into a gown of dazzling white. And Jesus' face no longer has the appearance that's become so familiar to you. Instead his face is shining more brightly than the sun blazing above you in the sky. His face is so bright you cry aloud and shade your eyes against the incredible glare that's coming from him.
As your eyes begin to adjust to the light, you see that Jesus isn't alone. There are two figures there with him. And although you've never seen either of them before, you somehow know that these two people are Moses and Elijah. Somehow the prophets' appearance, and the glow coming from Jesus makes you understand part of the journey ahead. You remember how Jesus told you, "The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and be killed." Moses and Elijah are here, you think, to prepare him for his journey into the danger ahead.
Then you hear Moses and Elijah talking to Jesus about his departure. A ghastly departure lay ahead in Jerusalem. He must not go alone, you instantly decide. So you open your mouth and declare how you will abandon all and live only in the temporary abodes of your people's wilderness journey. "Master it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah."
But before you could even expect an answer, you're surrounded by a cloud. And a voice rings out in a sound that shakes the very mountain, and you plainly hear the words, "This is my Son, My chosen. Listen to him!"
You're head is spinning and you feel yourself falling to the ground. Then the next thing that you feel is a hand shaking your shoulder. You look up and find Jesus is looking down at you with a gentle smile on his now normal face. He gently reaches out his hand and pulls you to your feet.
"Waasssszup?" you ask uncertainly. "In a short while I will be lifted up in Jerusalem," he quietly replies. "Come, things are changing. I will not be with you for much longer. It's time to begin one last journey."
Hey anyone! "Waasssszup," you continually declare. For in your work here in your congregation you probably still feel a bit dizzy with the changes of the past few years. With each new pastor, or interim pastor, who's arrived to join your life here, you felt a thrill of hope. Finally, you thought, we're climbing out of the valleys that beset this church. It's likely the work involved with each transition felt like your climb was a trip up the highest mountain.
Our mutual transition: the transition that brought me to your midst, is well begun now. Possibly our work together has brought us to a time of comfort. At least I pray that is true.
But the news the gospel brings emphasizes that comfort is not the place where our Lord calls us. We've come to the place where we see the mountain ahead. A mountain which, if we choose to climb, it could lead us to the One who is the essence of transformation and in this One's presence we may find the transformation of this congregation and all who work here in our Lord's name.
We don't have to climb this mountain. And I warn you, choosing to climb into transformation may well be an uncomfortable experience. But I also warn you, choosing not to embrace change may in and of itself lead to the change of decline and closure.
"Waasssszup?" you may be asking. "Where is the pastor going with all this talk of change? What plans are floating around in his head?"
I must tell you, that only you have the right to create new programs or to create a new direction for this congregation's journey. So I have no plans. Instead I have a challenge. I challenge you to join me here on Ash Wednesday, and on the Sunday's in Lent, to consider the question of where Christ wishes to lead us. And in our journey up the mountain of Lent to the blazing light of resurrection, I challenge us all to fully open ourselves in prayer and thought to the One who can transform us. I do not know in what direction this transfiguration might lead. But I do know that if we follow Christ's lead there will come a time when visitors will walk through our doors, see the wonder Christ's people have created, and utter a startled, "Waasssszup?"
And the answer will be Jesus Christ is up. The One blazing our trail like the shining light of the sun is up. Come join us, and see the wonders of Christ's transfiguring love.
Frank R. Fisher, Obl OSB, is a second-career interim/transformational pastor in the Presbyterian Church (USA). He currently serves as the interim pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Bushnell, Illinois. During the final years of his first career as a paramedic and administrator for the Chicago Fire Department, Fisher graduated from McCormick Theological Seminary and was ordained. He is an Oblate of the ecumenical Abbey of John the Baptist and Saint Benedict in Bartonville, Illinois, where he has joined the rapidly growing number of those who are called to follow Saint Benedict's rule.
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Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Ash Wednesday
Ashes For Remembering
by Ron Lavin
Joel 2:1-2; 12-17
Stan was a hard-nosed atheist. That's how he described himself. Emily, Stan's wife, talked with him about faith, urged him to come to church with her and the children and learn about God. All of her words were like water off a duck's back.
"Prove it," Stan often said. "I just can't believe unless someone proves to me that God exists." Emily prayed for Stan every day, but it seemed hopeless.
When Emily was taken to the hospital for surgery, Stan was shaken. She had breast cancer. He waited alone in the designated area for what seemed like hours. A kindly old nurse stopped by the waiting area and said, "They're still in surgery. Maybe we'll hear something soon."
"What's that on your forehead?" Stan asked. "It looks like dirt."
"Actually," said the nurse, "it's ashes. Today is Ash Wednesday. In our church the pastor puts ashes on our foreheads and says, 'Remember your mortality and anticipate your eternity.' Ashes are for remembering who we are and who God is. Ashes are a sign that we should return to God who made us. Receiving ashes is a good way to start Lent."
"What's Lent?"
"Lent is the season when we remember that Jesus died to reconcile us with God, to make our return to God possible. By Jesus' suffering and death on the cross, our sins can be forgiven. He died to give us life in the here and now and the hereafter. Even though we suffer in this life, when we die, we can have eternal life." She smiled.
"I think my wife might die. I don't know what I'll do without her," Stan frowned.
The nurse came over to where Stan sat. The look in her eye reminded him of his mother's look. When his mother died of cancer, he was ten years old. Since that day, he had been bitter. "If you'll let me, I'd like to pray with you," she said.
"I... I... guess that's okay," Stan muttered. The old nurse put her wrinkled hands on Stan's rigid rough hands. She prayed for Emily's recovery. When she left, Stan sat there immobilized, remembering his mother's prayers when he was a boy. He thought, God, if you're there, I've been wrong all these years. If you're there, forgive my hardness of heart. If you're there, please heal my Emily. If you do, I'll try to believe. I'll even go to church with her.
The doctor finally came to the waiting room. "We think we got it all," he said. "Only time will tell," Stan hugged him and wept.
When Stan took Emily home, he said to her, "When you're feeling up to if, I'd like to go to church with you. Would that be okay?"
"Yes," the startled Emily replied. "That would be wonderful." Stan was very awkward in church at first. He didn't know any of the responses or hymns. He didn't know when to stand and when to sit. When Emily went forward for communion, he sat in the pew thinking, I don't think this is going to work. But the next Sunday he was with her again. The pastor who had become a Christian late in life watched Stan squirming in the pew. After service he asked Stan if he'd like to learn more about the faith. "Yes... yes... I would," Stan replied hesitatingly.
The pastor helped Stan by not demanding too much of him at first. "It's just a matter of committing as much of yourself as you can to as much of God as you understand," he said. "I went through this business of becoming a Christian as an adult myself. It's a real struggle at first. I was ignorant of anything about Christianity. I felt that everyone else knew everything and I knew nothing. The question really isn't 'Is there a God?' The real question is 'Is there a Stan?' What I mean by that is since God created you, you aren't really what you were created to be until you believe, until you return to your Maker. You are 'Almost Stan,' but you aren't really Stan until your trust Jesus Christ as your Savior."
"Trust is really hard for me," Stan replied.
"Don't rush it," the wise pastor said. "Trust is hard for a lot of men." Stan then explained that his father had been an alcoholic and that his mother had died when he was ten years old. "I've never been able to forgive God for taking her from me," he said.
"You have two strikes against you, but you're not out yet." The pastor smiled and explained how Jesus had died on the cross for us, so that even when bad things happen to us we are never alone. "Jesus was with you when you went through the troubles with your father and when your mother died. You may not have felt it at the time, but he was right there, suffering with you."
Little by little, Stan began to understand what God was like and what it meant to be a Christian. Six months after his wife's surgery when Stan was baptized, Emily cried. "What's wrong mom?" little Suzie asked. "Are you sad?" "No, I'm filled with joy," the mother replied.
When Ash Wednesday rolled around again, the pastor preached on Joel 2:12, "Yet even now, says the Lord, return to me with all your heart..." and 2 Corinthians 2:20, "... We entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God." When it came time for the ashes to be placed on the foreheads of the people, Stan went forward with his family. "Remember your mortality and anticipate your eternity," the pastor said as he looked into the dark brown eyes of the new Christian. "Amen," Stan replied.
That night as he stood before the mirror looking at the ashes in the form of the cross on his forehead, Stan said, "Yes, I remember."
Disillusioned
by Ron Lavin
2 Corinthians 5:20b--6:10
The young pastor was preparing a sermon titled "Disillusioned People." He was stuck. Writer's block moved in like a fog. He just couldn't find the right words for this sermon about people who were discouraged and disheartened. He stopped what he was doing and shared his predicament with his wife. She said, "Why don't you check the dictionary?"
When the pastor went to the dictionary, he found that the word "disillusioned" means "freed from illusions." When he looked up the word "illusions," he found that it means "false ideas." "Disillusioned" means "freed from false ideas." While we generally use the word in a negative sense, "disillusioned" can be a very positive term. The young pastor thought, We need to be freed from false ideas about God, ourselves, and other people. He re-wrote the sermon in the light of this discovery.
In his study of 2 Corinthians 5:20--6:10, the pastor realized that Paul is urging his readers to distinguish between the false ideas of the world and the truth of the gospel of salvation. The world sees no need for reconciliation with God through the cross of Christ. The gospel truth is that the cross of Christ is the only way of reconciliation with God. The world thinks, "Any old time will do to deal with God. The gospel calls for decision now. The world thinks that Christians are losers because they are persecuted, afflicted with hardships, suffering, and conflicts. The truth is that these difficulties are all part of living under the theology of the cross. The world sees that purity, patience, holiness of spirit, and love are signs of weakness. The gospel truth is that these attributes are signs of the power of God at work in people who are reconciled to God through the cross of Christ.
The young pastor decided to introduce his sermon on this text by quoting verse 8 of chapter 6. "The world may treat us as impostors, yet we have the truth in Christ Jesus," he said. He included all the paradoxes in verses four through eight as illustrations of the reversal advocated by Paul in this text. Then he added the clincher. As ambassadors for Christ, we are called to disillusion worldly people from their illusions. "Actually," he added, "We can't disillusion anyone. The Holy Spirit does the work of changing people. We are just messengers of the gospel, witnesses to what God does to convert worldly thinking to spiritual thinking. In his sermon introduction he added that the people of the world are filled with illusions about God, themselves and other people. He used this threefold emphasis as an outline for his sermon."
Worldly illusions about God include the fact that many people think of God as a divine errand boy who is supposed to do our bidding. How about the illusion of God as a Santa Clause who rewards good little boys and girls and denies his gifts to bad children? That illusion leaves no room for grace. Worldly illusions about God include the thought that "any old god will do," leaving no room for the sacrifice of Christ on the cross. People with these illusions need to be reminded that the gods we create are all idols. They need to be disillusioned.
Worldly illusions about ourselves include that we are good and that our goodness gets us into heaven or that we are bad and can never be saved. The paradoxical truth is that we are both bad and good. Some people think they are not in need of reconciliation with God. Some think that since they had an upbringing in the church there is no need to grow spiritually as adults. Some have the false idea that all their troubles are caused by other people. They blame others for all their troubles and take no responsibility for their own lives. They need to be disillusioned.
Worldly illusions about other people include the view that other people are much worse than we are, leading to pride, or that all others are better than we are leading to false guilt. Other people may be seen as competitors who need to be overcome or as nobodies who don't deserve our attention. People with these ideas need to be disillusioned.
The pastor concluded, "We are Don Quixote-like ambassadors for Christ, going forth to free people from their illusions while we ourselves are filled with illusions from which we need to be freed. That's why we repeatedly cry out, 'Lord have mercy upon us' as we undertake Christ's mission. The world may think we are crazy, but as ambassadors for Christ, we are the only sane ones in an insane society."
Several people commented on the pastor's sermon, "I never thought of it that way before. That sermon made me re-examine my understanding of being a Christian."
Ron Lavin is the award-winning author of more than twenty books, including Turning Griping into Gratitude, Way to Grow! and the popular Another Look series (CSS). He is the former Pastor-Director of Evangelical Outreach for the Lutheran Church in America, and pastored five thriving congregations, all of which grew substantially under his leadership. Lavin is a popular speaker and church consultant on the dynamics of small groups and evangelism.
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What's Up This Week
"Transforming Light" by John Smylie
"Comfortable Clothes" by John Smylie
"Waasssszup?" by Frank Fisher
"Ashes For Remembering" by Ron Lavin
"Disillusioned" by Ron Lavin
What's Up This Week
How do you preach about something that everyone has heard many years already? Below you will find several very good stories for Transfiguration Sunday. Also included are stories that will help to get your Ash Wednesday started.
Transforming Light
John Smylie
Luke 9:28-36 (37-43)
The Cursillo movement has evolved in many different directions over the years. Cursillo is a short course in Christianity and at its best it assists those who participate in it in becoming leaders in their local church. Though it was originally a Roman Catholic renewal experience, it has expanded over the years into other mainline denominations. Originally the movement served men only; eventually it grew to serve women as well and now some variations of it include weekends for teenagers as well as young adults.
I knew a young man who went on one of these variations of the Cursillo movement. At the time he attended he was a teenager. He was already recognized as a leader among his peers, being a three-sport varsity athlete, an honor roll student, and a Boy Scout. He was a pretty quiet kid and his life was not as easy as it may have appeared on the outside. His parents divorced when he was just a very little boy. As a child he bounced back and forth between their two homes. Every Tuesday night and every other weekend spending the night with his father, the rest of the time he was with his mother. Like most children whose parents have been divorced, he longed for his parents to get back together, and yet the reality was very clear that that would never happen. He didn't want to see that.
Eleven years after his parents had divorced, his mother remarried. Though on the surface he tried to appear pleased for his mother, internally this change was difficult for him. Now it was abundantly clear that his parents would never get back together. Two years after his mother remarried when he was age fifteen he was invited to participate in a, "Happening" weekend. A few of his friends had experienced a "Happening" weekend before him and had encouraged him to attend. They described the experience as awesome. His mother and stepfather also encouraged him to go on the renewal weekend. They both had experienced the movement and believed he was ready for the mountaintop experience it so often provides those who participate in it.
He went and gave himself fully to the experience.
When he returned home on a Sunday evening, he was riding high while at the same time he was tired from all the activities and excitement. It was clear he had been stretched by the teaching and challenged by the call to commitment. He came home from that experience with a new excitement for his faith. He had been on a mountaintop and he couldn't sleep that night. He wanted to talk and listening to him was a wonderful experience for his mother and stepfather. They were delighted to see how the Lord had brought God's light to him through the faithful community that served him during the weekend.
At the end of the conversation that Sunday night he looked toward his stepfather and said, "There's something I've got to tell you, but I'm not ready to tell you right at this moment."
His stepfather replied, "Whenever you are ready I'm here to listen to you."
Three days later the boy's stepfather began to wonder if whatever it was that his stepson desired to share was ever going to come to the light of day. Another day past when finally the boy told his stepfather, "I'm ready to share with you now."
The two of them went to a room in the house where they could be alone and undisturbed.
The boy seemed to be struggling. He was naturally a quiet kid and it seemed as if the sharing was a great leap of faith. He held his head down as his stepfather sat across from him waiting for him to speak. Finally, he looked up close to tears and with a pained expression on his face said, "You know, when you married my mom, that was really hard for me. I want my mom to be happy, but it was really hard to have you come into my life and my family. What I realized over the weekend was that God has brought you to my life."
This vulnerable and intimate sharing stunned his stepfather, he didn't know what to say, perhaps there was nothing to say. He simply received the gracious words of his stepson, words that demonstrated maturity far beyond the fifteen years of the boy's life and expressed his gratitude by taking the boy into his arms and surrounding him with a strong embrace.
It seems to me whenever we encounter the living God, whenever we experience the radiant face of our Lord Jesus Christ, whenever we dare to come in to the real presence of the holy, we are changed and strengthen to brighten the real and challenging every day world in which we live, just like this young man who was strengthened by God's transforming light and love overcame himself by reaching out beyond himself.
Comfortable Clothes
John Smylie
Luke 9:28-36 (37-43)
I consider it a very fortunate thing that God made me a man and not a woman. I don't think any amount of makeup would do a bit of good in transforming the way I look. I know this is a particularly sexist statement, and I suspect if God had made me a woman that I wouldn't want to be a man. Nevertheless, I must admit I'm very thankful that God made me as I am. One of the ever humorous aspects of being married and sharing life with a wonderful woman is discovering how different we are when it comes to preparing ourselves for going out of the house. For me, all at takes is a shower and a shampoo, a quick shave, and the appropriate clothes. Usually five to ten minutes is all I need to transform this somewhat shabby body into one that is at least presentable to the outside world.
I think women must have higher standards because as I watch my wife prepare herself to face the public, I am amazed at her patience and her persistence. With self-effacing humor she describes her efforts as putting a little paint on the barn. Personally, I think she looks just terrific without all the makeup, but I have to admit when she is finished with her creation she does look really fine. I wonder what it is about going into the public eye that causes us to feel the need to fix ourselves up. Perhaps it is a desire to be respectful of the other. Perhaps as we go out into the public eye we are venturing into the unknown and our improved appearance provides us with a kind of armor. I do find it interesting, though, that the people with whom we are most intimate are those with whom we need the least amount of covering. After a day of work or a night on the town, it's good to come home and put on our comfortable clothes or remove the makeup and get under the covers.
As Jesus and his disciples share in the mountaintop experience and everything is stripped away but the pure and powerful light of God, we discover an intense moment of intimacy. For Jesus, these moments on the mountaintop, sharing fellowship with Moses and Elijah may be the kind of moment you and I share when we finally get to be in our own comfortable space at the end of a long and tiring day. Climbing the mountain, followed by time on its summit with three of his disciples, it appears as if Jesus is inviting them to his life back home at the end of the day -- his true home -- in the presence of God's light and power. In a sense Jesus is inviting his disciples into more comfortable clothes, into their true nature. It's as if Jesus is stripped of the camouflage of his mortal body and the original nature of his divinity and a foretaste of his resurrection becomes apparent. For Jesus this may be his most natural environment and yet for the disciples, as they enter and engage the pure light of God in their friend and companion Jesus, they find themselves at a loss. Speaking metaphorically it seems as if the disciples want to put on a thick coat of makeup and hide themselves in the formality of traditional forms of worship -- building booths.
The experience of the Transfiguration may be a kind of makeup remover for us. The gospel text and our Lord seem to be inviting us to the good news of intimacy with the Almighty. We may want to ask ourselves if we are ready and willing to follow our Lord and engage him in his nearly overwhelming desire for intimacy with us. As we open ourselves to the radiant light upon Jesus' face, we may discover our Lord's vision for each of us as well.
John Smylie was ordained deacon and priest in 1982. He has a broad range of experience in parish ministry, having served in rural, suburban, and urban settings. John is a published author and storyteller as well as a singer-songwriter. He has recently completed 25 stories focusing on grace, Grace for Today. This work explores how grace, loss, and restoration are part of the same fabric. Presently John is engaged in writing playful songs for the child in us all as well as melodic, accessible, and prayerful music for worship. All of his presentations weave his several gifts into a cohesive and creative encounter with the Holy. He says, "A relationship with the living God is like a dance; as the music changes, new steps must be learned."
Waasssszup?
Frank Fisher
Exodus 34:29-35
"Hey Moses! Waasssszup?"
Your brother Moses turns to you with a look of supreme irritation in his eyes.
"Aaron," he thunders, "how many times have I told you not to use Egyptian slang? It's demeaning for a priest of the Most High God to use language like you do!"
You sigh gently as you remember; Moses has absolutely no sense of humor. But he is your brother. So you continue your possibly vain attempt to hold a pleasant conversation. "I just wanted you know what's up with you," you gently reply. "You look... you know, a bit... different. Your face is all shiny. I thought your skin cleared up while we were still kids."
"Ooops," you say to yourself. "I forgot the sense of humor thing again." But for some strange reason Moses looks puzzled instead of angry. "What do you mean?" he asks. "What's wrong with my face?"
"Well, it looks like its glowing," you answer him. "What were you doing up there on the mountain? There was a cloud up there that looked like the pillar I've seen by the tabernacle. And what's carved on the stone tablets you're carrying?"
"All in good time," your brother shoots back. "Gather the people together. I only want to explain this once."
You obey your brother's words without argument for a change. Its not that you've changed into an obedient little brother all of a sudden. But you realize something about Moses has changed. And you're curious to know what happened to him up there on Mount Sinai.
It takes a while. But finally you, and the congregation's leaders succeed in rounding up all the people. Then Moses stands before them and holds up the tablets of stone for their inspection. "I've seen the Lord," he announces as the people gasp with wonder. "What is written here in stone are the commandments the Lord gives to me and to you."
You listen with your heart filled with wonder while Moses speaks of the commandments. Your sense of awe grows as he then continues to tell of all that transpired upon the mountain.
"Its no wonder his face glows," you think to yourself. "For no one could encounter the Holy One and be unchanged." Finally, Moses finishes his speech. But as the crowd disperses he turns to you smiles and says, "Hey Aaron! Waasssszup?"
"I don't know Moses," returns your slightly stunned reply. "What is up?"
Moses' smile broadens as he points upward toward Mount Sinai. "The Lord is up Aaron," he shouts to the sky. " The LORD is king; let the peoples tremble! The Lord sits enthroned upon the cherubim; let the earth quake! The LORD is great in Zion; and is exalted over all the peoples. Let them praise God's great and awesome name. Holy is the Lord!"
"Hey Jesus! Waasssszup?" You clasp your hands over your mouth and you wish that you could hide somewhere to cover your embarrassment. For your name is Peter and you realize its not quite proper to talk to Jesus that way. But Jesus simply smiles patiently at you. "In a little while we'll be up," he says. Then he points upward toward the mountain looming before you. Your heart sinks a bit when you see where he's pointing. Jesus, it seems, wants to go mountain climbing.
You've got to admit you'd been having it a little easy for the last eight days. And a good thing that was, too. You needed a break since you're still tired out from all this time you've spent tramping around Galilee. You know Jesus said he had no place to lay his head. But you really didn't take that literally until you left your nets and went on the road with him. After that, it was exhaustion city! So the last eight days rest has been kind of nice. Only you wish those days wouldn't be followed by a trek up this mountain.
Jesus apparently understands your reluctance toward increasing vertical travel. But his understanding doesn't seem to deter him; instead just glances at you with an enormously patient look. Then he turns around, and begins heading up the mountain.
Despite your exhaustion you've no intention of leaving Jesus' side. So you sigh deeply once or twice, and bend down to retie your sandals. Then you look upward at the climb you've got to make, and slowly follow Jesus up the mountainside.
Then almost before you know it you're at the summit. You start to collapse on the ground to catch your breath. The ground begins to feel very comfortable and you almost fall asleep. Then suddenly your eyes and mind snap into complete alertness. Your mouth drops open as you watch the scene that's unfolding before you. The simple homespun robe Jesus was wearing has been changed into a gown of dazzling white. And Jesus' face no longer has the appearance that's become so familiar to you. Instead his face is shining more brightly than the sun blazing above you in the sky. His face is so bright you cry aloud and shade your eyes against the incredible glare that's coming from him.
As your eyes begin to adjust to the light, you see that Jesus isn't alone. There are two figures there with him. And although you've never seen either of them before, you somehow know that these two people are Moses and Elijah. Somehow the prophets' appearance, and the glow coming from Jesus makes you understand part of the journey ahead. You remember how Jesus told you, "The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and be killed." Moses and Elijah are here, you think, to prepare him for his journey into the danger ahead.
Then you hear Moses and Elijah talking to Jesus about his departure. A ghastly departure lay ahead in Jerusalem. He must not go alone, you instantly decide. So you open your mouth and declare how you will abandon all and live only in the temporary abodes of your people's wilderness journey. "Master it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah."
But before you could even expect an answer, you're surrounded by a cloud. And a voice rings out in a sound that shakes the very mountain, and you plainly hear the words, "This is my Son, My chosen. Listen to him!"
You're head is spinning and you feel yourself falling to the ground. Then the next thing that you feel is a hand shaking your shoulder. You look up and find Jesus is looking down at you with a gentle smile on his now normal face. He gently reaches out his hand and pulls you to your feet.
"Waasssszup?" you ask uncertainly. "In a short while I will be lifted up in Jerusalem," he quietly replies. "Come, things are changing. I will not be with you for much longer. It's time to begin one last journey."
Hey anyone! "Waasssszup," you continually declare. For in your work here in your congregation you probably still feel a bit dizzy with the changes of the past few years. With each new pastor, or interim pastor, who's arrived to join your life here, you felt a thrill of hope. Finally, you thought, we're climbing out of the valleys that beset this church. It's likely the work involved with each transition felt like your climb was a trip up the highest mountain.
Our mutual transition: the transition that brought me to your midst, is well begun now. Possibly our work together has brought us to a time of comfort. At least I pray that is true.
But the news the gospel brings emphasizes that comfort is not the place where our Lord calls us. We've come to the place where we see the mountain ahead. A mountain which, if we choose to climb, it could lead us to the One who is the essence of transformation and in this One's presence we may find the transformation of this congregation and all who work here in our Lord's name.
We don't have to climb this mountain. And I warn you, choosing to climb into transformation may well be an uncomfortable experience. But I also warn you, choosing not to embrace change may in and of itself lead to the change of decline and closure.
"Waasssszup?" you may be asking. "Where is the pastor going with all this talk of change? What plans are floating around in his head?"
I must tell you, that only you have the right to create new programs or to create a new direction for this congregation's journey. So I have no plans. Instead I have a challenge. I challenge you to join me here on Ash Wednesday, and on the Sunday's in Lent, to consider the question of where Christ wishes to lead us. And in our journey up the mountain of Lent to the blazing light of resurrection, I challenge us all to fully open ourselves in prayer and thought to the One who can transform us. I do not know in what direction this transfiguration might lead. But I do know that if we follow Christ's lead there will come a time when visitors will walk through our doors, see the wonder Christ's people have created, and utter a startled, "Waasssszup?"
And the answer will be Jesus Christ is up. The One blazing our trail like the shining light of the sun is up. Come join us, and see the wonders of Christ's transfiguring love.
Frank R. Fisher, Obl OSB, is a second-career interim/transformational pastor in the Presbyterian Church (USA). He currently serves as the interim pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Bushnell, Illinois. During the final years of his first career as a paramedic and administrator for the Chicago Fire Department, Fisher graduated from McCormick Theological Seminary and was ordained. He is an Oblate of the ecumenical Abbey of John the Baptist and Saint Benedict in Bartonville, Illinois, where he has joined the rapidly growing number of those who are called to follow Saint Benedict's rule.
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Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Ash Wednesday
Ashes For Remembering
by Ron Lavin
Joel 2:1-2; 12-17
Stan was a hard-nosed atheist. That's how he described himself. Emily, Stan's wife, talked with him about faith, urged him to come to church with her and the children and learn about God. All of her words were like water off a duck's back.
"Prove it," Stan often said. "I just can't believe unless someone proves to me that God exists." Emily prayed for Stan every day, but it seemed hopeless.
When Emily was taken to the hospital for surgery, Stan was shaken. She had breast cancer. He waited alone in the designated area for what seemed like hours. A kindly old nurse stopped by the waiting area and said, "They're still in surgery. Maybe we'll hear something soon."
"What's that on your forehead?" Stan asked. "It looks like dirt."
"Actually," said the nurse, "it's ashes. Today is Ash Wednesday. In our church the pastor puts ashes on our foreheads and says, 'Remember your mortality and anticipate your eternity.' Ashes are for remembering who we are and who God is. Ashes are a sign that we should return to God who made us. Receiving ashes is a good way to start Lent."
"What's Lent?"
"Lent is the season when we remember that Jesus died to reconcile us with God, to make our return to God possible. By Jesus' suffering and death on the cross, our sins can be forgiven. He died to give us life in the here and now and the hereafter. Even though we suffer in this life, when we die, we can have eternal life." She smiled.
"I think my wife might die. I don't know what I'll do without her," Stan frowned.
The nurse came over to where Stan sat. The look in her eye reminded him of his mother's look. When his mother died of cancer, he was ten years old. Since that day, he had been bitter. "If you'll let me, I'd like to pray with you," she said.
"I... I... guess that's okay," Stan muttered. The old nurse put her wrinkled hands on Stan's rigid rough hands. She prayed for Emily's recovery. When she left, Stan sat there immobilized, remembering his mother's prayers when he was a boy. He thought, God, if you're there, I've been wrong all these years. If you're there, forgive my hardness of heart. If you're there, please heal my Emily. If you do, I'll try to believe. I'll even go to church with her.
The doctor finally came to the waiting room. "We think we got it all," he said. "Only time will tell," Stan hugged him and wept.
When Stan took Emily home, he said to her, "When you're feeling up to if, I'd like to go to church with you. Would that be okay?"
"Yes," the startled Emily replied. "That would be wonderful." Stan was very awkward in church at first. He didn't know any of the responses or hymns. He didn't know when to stand and when to sit. When Emily went forward for communion, he sat in the pew thinking, I don't think this is going to work. But the next Sunday he was with her again. The pastor who had become a Christian late in life watched Stan squirming in the pew. After service he asked Stan if he'd like to learn more about the faith. "Yes... yes... I would," Stan replied hesitatingly.
The pastor helped Stan by not demanding too much of him at first. "It's just a matter of committing as much of yourself as you can to as much of God as you understand," he said. "I went through this business of becoming a Christian as an adult myself. It's a real struggle at first. I was ignorant of anything about Christianity. I felt that everyone else knew everything and I knew nothing. The question really isn't 'Is there a God?' The real question is 'Is there a Stan?' What I mean by that is since God created you, you aren't really what you were created to be until you believe, until you return to your Maker. You are 'Almost Stan,' but you aren't really Stan until your trust Jesus Christ as your Savior."
"Trust is really hard for me," Stan replied.
"Don't rush it," the wise pastor said. "Trust is hard for a lot of men." Stan then explained that his father had been an alcoholic and that his mother had died when he was ten years old. "I've never been able to forgive God for taking her from me," he said.
"You have two strikes against you, but you're not out yet." The pastor smiled and explained how Jesus had died on the cross for us, so that even when bad things happen to us we are never alone. "Jesus was with you when you went through the troubles with your father and when your mother died. You may not have felt it at the time, but he was right there, suffering with you."
Little by little, Stan began to understand what God was like and what it meant to be a Christian. Six months after his wife's surgery when Stan was baptized, Emily cried. "What's wrong mom?" little Suzie asked. "Are you sad?" "No, I'm filled with joy," the mother replied.
When Ash Wednesday rolled around again, the pastor preached on Joel 2:12, "Yet even now, says the Lord, return to me with all your heart..." and 2 Corinthians 2:20, "... We entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God." When it came time for the ashes to be placed on the foreheads of the people, Stan went forward with his family. "Remember your mortality and anticipate your eternity," the pastor said as he looked into the dark brown eyes of the new Christian. "Amen," Stan replied.
That night as he stood before the mirror looking at the ashes in the form of the cross on his forehead, Stan said, "Yes, I remember."
Disillusioned
by Ron Lavin
2 Corinthians 5:20b--6:10
The young pastor was preparing a sermon titled "Disillusioned People." He was stuck. Writer's block moved in like a fog. He just couldn't find the right words for this sermon about people who were discouraged and disheartened. He stopped what he was doing and shared his predicament with his wife. She said, "Why don't you check the dictionary?"
When the pastor went to the dictionary, he found that the word "disillusioned" means "freed from illusions." When he looked up the word "illusions," he found that it means "false ideas." "Disillusioned" means "freed from false ideas." While we generally use the word in a negative sense, "disillusioned" can be a very positive term. The young pastor thought, We need to be freed from false ideas about God, ourselves, and other people. He re-wrote the sermon in the light of this discovery.
In his study of 2 Corinthians 5:20--6:10, the pastor realized that Paul is urging his readers to distinguish between the false ideas of the world and the truth of the gospel of salvation. The world sees no need for reconciliation with God through the cross of Christ. The gospel truth is that the cross of Christ is the only way of reconciliation with God. The world thinks, "Any old time will do to deal with God. The gospel calls for decision now. The world thinks that Christians are losers because they are persecuted, afflicted with hardships, suffering, and conflicts. The truth is that these difficulties are all part of living under the theology of the cross. The world sees that purity, patience, holiness of spirit, and love are signs of weakness. The gospel truth is that these attributes are signs of the power of God at work in people who are reconciled to God through the cross of Christ.
The young pastor decided to introduce his sermon on this text by quoting verse 8 of chapter 6. "The world may treat us as impostors, yet we have the truth in Christ Jesus," he said. He included all the paradoxes in verses four through eight as illustrations of the reversal advocated by Paul in this text. Then he added the clincher. As ambassadors for Christ, we are called to disillusion worldly people from their illusions. "Actually," he added, "We can't disillusion anyone. The Holy Spirit does the work of changing people. We are just messengers of the gospel, witnesses to what God does to convert worldly thinking to spiritual thinking. In his sermon introduction he added that the people of the world are filled with illusions about God, themselves and other people. He used this threefold emphasis as an outline for his sermon."
Worldly illusions about God include the fact that many people think of God as a divine errand boy who is supposed to do our bidding. How about the illusion of God as a Santa Clause who rewards good little boys and girls and denies his gifts to bad children? That illusion leaves no room for grace. Worldly illusions about God include the thought that "any old god will do," leaving no room for the sacrifice of Christ on the cross. People with these illusions need to be reminded that the gods we create are all idols. They need to be disillusioned.
Worldly illusions about ourselves include that we are good and that our goodness gets us into heaven or that we are bad and can never be saved. The paradoxical truth is that we are both bad and good. Some people think they are not in need of reconciliation with God. Some think that since they had an upbringing in the church there is no need to grow spiritually as adults. Some have the false idea that all their troubles are caused by other people. They blame others for all their troubles and take no responsibility for their own lives. They need to be disillusioned.
Worldly illusions about other people include the view that other people are much worse than we are, leading to pride, or that all others are better than we are leading to false guilt. Other people may be seen as competitors who need to be overcome or as nobodies who don't deserve our attention. People with these ideas need to be disillusioned.
The pastor concluded, "We are Don Quixote-like ambassadors for Christ, going forth to free people from their illusions while we ourselves are filled with illusions from which we need to be freed. That's why we repeatedly cry out, 'Lord have mercy upon us' as we undertake Christ's mission. The world may think we are crazy, but as ambassadors for Christ, we are the only sane ones in an insane society."
Several people commented on the pastor's sermon, "I never thought of it that way before. That sermon made me re-examine my understanding of being a Christian."
Ron Lavin is the award-winning author of more than twenty books, including Turning Griping into Gratitude, Way to Grow! and the popular Another Look series (CSS). He is the former Pastor-Director of Evangelical Outreach for the Lutheran Church in America, and pastored five thriving congregations, all of which grew substantially under his leadership. Lavin is a popular speaker and church consultant on the dynamics of small groups and evangelism.
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StoryShare, February 18 and 21, 2007, issue.
Copyright 2007 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
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