I'll Be The One In Black
Stories
Contents
"I'll Be the One in Black" by C. David McKirachan
"The Prophet Anna" by Sandra Herrmann
"A Joyful or Disturbing Glimpse of the New" by David O. Bales
* * * * * * * *
I'll Be the One in Black
by C. David McKirachan
Isaiah 61:10-11
George O. Wilson said that "People need the sacred narrative... they will find a way to keep the ancestral spirits alive." This time of year we do a lot of things to reiterate our sacred narrative. Manger scenes, carols, decking the halls, mementoes from the past all reach with tentative wonder toward the story that makes us who we are. It's a great story. Why shouldn't we use it?
Even more than the quality of the tale, deeper than its cast of characters and situations that draw us on, there is here a resonance with our identity. This story is not about them, it's about us and our view of the way the universe works around us. It allows us to claim again a larger perspective as we look at our lives, including the train wrecks. Young unwed mother who converse with angels and speak with authority that is not based on any degree or social status, compassionate husband, ready to be caring of this girl, redirected by a dream, pushed as a family beyond their comfort zones by politics to a place of ancient prophecy, bearing a child in the company of animals and wild-eyed shepherds drunk on angels' anthems all do more than leave us a bit breathless and teary eyed. They affirm that in spite of evidence to the contrary, our small and lumpy lives are part of a narrative that transcends the sad and tragic. These characters are amazingly like us.
Each of us has a sacred story. A story of redemption and glory woven of the common thread of our days. So the prophet reminds us of weddings. There is much glory and wonder there, at least there is for me. I remember the miracle of that day. I was marinated in expectation, basted in hope, stuffed with more joy than any holiday bird. I sent my son to bring a single rose to my bride where she was being decked out as brides are. The note I enclosed said simply, "I'll be the one in black. I love you." She reminded me later that I wasn't the only one in black at the front of the church but that she had no trouble recognizing me. That day is filled with light, though plans and agendas skidded and broke down as we went. But the disasters all became part of the narrative, the story that reminds us every time we tell it of who we are and where we stand in this confusing and difficult universe. It is our sacred narrative.
Christmas is nothing less. It reminds us that we are important because the One cares. So it is as I light the Christ candle in the dark of Christmas Eve, the universe is filled with light. And we are all clothed in glory.
God bless us everyone.
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. McKirachan is the author of I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder (Westminster John Knox).
The Prophet Anna
by Sandra Herrmann
Luke 2:22-40
Her name was Anna bat Penuel, and she was incredibly old. Stooped over her walking stick, she looked up to the priests only with great difficulty. Yet every day she was in attendance at the blowing of the shofar [ram's horn] in the morning. And she never was late to the services of praise, never gossiped as the incense was prepared as many of the widows of the temple did.
It was said she had been married at the age of fourteen to an old man, a friend of her father or uncle. The only one who could possibly say yea or nay was Anna herself; hardly anyone was old enough to possibly remember. He had treated her well enough. But after seven years of marriage to her, he died, leaving her childless. Her father also was gone by then, and her uncle lived at some distance, so she had to look to her husband's grown sons for protection. But none of them wished to take in a woman so young with no prospects. That would saddle them with another mouth to feed for many years. Though it would have offended God if they had said so, she was not their mother, so they felt no obligation toward her. All she had to show for her service to her lord and husband was a one-room house that was falling into disrepair because she had no way to do the work herself. She was reduced to gleaning the fields of her husband's relatives.
God had provided Anna with a gift few women had -- or would admit to. She knew things no human being could know without the spirit of God helping. She knew when a woman was about to come to the birthing stool and when she prayed for someone injured, God answered her prayers for their recovery. Some of the women began meeting her at the well to ask for some slight view of the future -- would their husbands welcome another child? Could she pray for their crops, which seemed to be failing despite plenty of sun and rain and liberal applications of sheep droppings? Could she suggest some herbs or salves for rashes or broken bones?
In this way, she began to get some income, because a man might give a penny or so for the swift arrival of a midwife before anyone knew the mother was in trouble. And women were grateful to know a woman who could advise them on keeping a wayward husband or son. Even if they had no coins to give her, they had flour, oil, wine, and a piece of meat from their own pots. It was a precarious life, so she lived frugally, trusting that God would take care of what she could not.
As she got older, her body bending over more each year and her sight failing her, some of the women got together and talked with one another about what they might do for their neighborhood prophet.
"She is touched by God, no question," said the eldest midwife to the high priest's steward. "She says and things happen. This is the mark of the true prophet, is it not? Didn't Elijah do the same? She needs protection and a decent place to live where the roof tiles don't dribble rain and sand into her cooking fire."
When nothing was forthcoming in this manner, several of the women got together and went to the ritual baths as a group. They washed and then sat with their feet in the hot waters, talking this over. They made certain the chief steward heard what they said about Anna.
"It's a sin on the part of the priests, for certain," the steward heard them say. "Here we have a true prophet in our midst, and the temple priests surely must have heard of her by now. Her fame is spreading far and wide. And even though she has done wonders like the prophets of old, she sits in her doorway for fear of a roof tile falling on her head."
The steward, thinking of the status he would gain by bringing a prophet to the attention of the Temple, began to ask questions on his own. At last, he presented himself to the priest on duty for the evening sacrifice.
"This is not just idle gossip, my lord," he said, "for this Anna's name is on the lips of a wide number of people for a variety of good things she has done. God has given her knowledge of the scriptures, and you know she would have no way to read them herself. It must be that God has given her this gift! And there are a score or more children who owe their survival to this woman, who -- like Elijah -- can lay hands on the little ones and they heal almost immediately. Yet, people say we are neglecting this woman because her house is falling down around her ears, and she often fasts, not just because food is short, but out of obedience to God. What might we do for her?"
The priest had gone to the high priest and laid out a plan for this woman. The high priest, mistakenly remembering that it had been his own idea to do this thing, implemented a plan. A small apartment was created for Anna to sleep in. A table and chairs, several oil lamps and a fire pit for her to warm herself were included. She shared in the priest's food and fresh bedding on the same schedule as the Temple assistants, and thus had a reasonably comfortable life.
Now she was half deaf, walking with a stout stick and the aid of one of the children given by their parents for service in the Temple. This did not, however, stop her from making a tour of the Temple grounds each day. And in that circumnavigation of the areas of the Temple where a woman was allowed, she often stopped to talk to those who were making a pilgrimage to the Temple for one reason or another.
That is just what Anna was doing when a baby was carried in by his father for his circumcision, accompanied by the young mother. There was something about this girl that attracted Anna's attention. She could not have said what it was. Maybe the Spirit of God pushed her in that direction. She stood back as Simeon, a man who came to the Temple every day to pray for the redemption of Israel, talked to the young father.
As Simeon walked away, Anna came closer, and knew at once that God had sent her to this quiet corner of the Temple precincts. This child, this mother, this father, had been selected by God to live one of the most dangerous lives possible. The child was about to turn Israel's social order on its head. The fear and hatred that he would engender by his life and teachings would tear at the hearts of all who would know him. But especially she felt sorry for this young, hopeful mother, no older than Anna had been when she had first married. What sadness she would be facing!
For that reason, Anna stepped forward, laid her hand on the mother's arm, and told her what she had seen in this child. She felt terrible to see the shadow fall on this young one's face; but she also looked strong. Anna knew she could face it all, her faith in God was so explicit. As Mary turned away to follow her husband, Anna said a prayer for her.
Sandra Herrmann is a retired United Methodist pastor living in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
A Joyful or Disturbing Glimpse of the New
by David O. Bales
Revelation 21:1-6a
"Charlie was the high school basketball coach. Josh was the eleventh man on his team," Pastor Jewell said. She planted her elbow on the pulpit and continued. "Because the high school was small, the eleventh man on this team, Josh, wasn't a very good player. Consequently, Coach Charlie didn't know or, more truthfully, like Josh very well. Eight years later, however, Josh became Charlie's son-in-law. Over the next two decades they worked with one another on houses and cars, raised kids, taught at the same high school and became as close as father and son."
Ernest sat in the third pew from the front of the sanctuary. He had sat in this pew every Sunday starting with his marriage to Elsie 46 years before. She died a year ago. He thought: What does this preacher, a woman, know about men and basketball? And what's she doing leaning on the pulpit?
"Just an example of how gracious change arrives in our lives unexpectedly"; Pastor Jewell preached, "and life brims with change. We change roles within our families. We begin as child, most of us become husband and wife. Most of us then endure that great graduation into parenthood and even to become grandparents." She smiled and sighed, "Often we switch roles with our elderly parents and become their caretakers and so the roles change completely as we grow older. The 'new' is a natural part of living."
Ernest sat straighter. No expression.
"Within our lifetimes relationships change: from worker to foreman, from student to professional, from apprentice to journeyman."
Ernest blinked quickly to remain awake. Another psychological sermon instead of something from the Bible. What's wrong with this modern crop of preachers?
Pastor Jewell picked up the Bible on the lectern. " 'The new' is part of God's plan from the beginning. Genesis 1 ticks off the sequence of new popping up, 'day one... day two.' Christianity is the faith of the new covenant that God has made with humanity. Our Christian life is formed and informed as much by the past as by the future. Both are within God's grasp and God commands the past and future to serve Christ's purposes. Because of Jesus we live toward a new life. Paul promises that because of Jesus, "We will all be changed."
Ernest sniffed. Now she's lacing the Bible with philosophy.
"Our worship committee has been reviewing our congregation's worship ministry and praying and contemplating changes in worship this year. We want to find ways that help people accept God's grace and become Jesus' followers. We realize that younger people are more attracted to and helped by songs that sound like those from their culture."
Ernest turned his good ear slightly toward the preacher.
"In this new year, along with our traditional hymns, we'll include new songs. As one committee member put it, 'Younger people should be able to sing at least one song every Sunday that was written after their parents were born.' "
She got a couple chuckles from the congregation.
"What do we mean when we call a song 'traditional'? It usually means 'a song I've sung all my life.' We often forget that old songs once were new. And resisted! Many church leaders have been credited with a quote that hasn't been nailed down to anyone. Lots of great church leaders could have said it. When opposed for using contemporary tunes for new Christian songs the response was, 'Why should the devil have all the good tunes?' "
A few belly-laughs.
"Delve into what's traditional today and it was resisted yesterday. Handel's The Messiah, so beloved as sacred music, was performed first in a secular music hall and the church hierarchy at the time criticized it.
"The book of Revelation is custom-made for New Years Day. It's about the new that God has promised -- a new future announced to strengthen our faith and obedience. A glimpse given of the new that is -- right now -- breaking into our time from eternity. When you read the Revelation, notice how much singing goes on there. And new songs. In heaven! If in heaven God doesn't merely confirm our private values and cater to our aesthetic tastes, why would we expect otherwise on earth?"
Pastor Jewell seemed to stand taller and speak louder, "Jesus promises, 'See, I am making all things new'; yet, we cling to the old for comfort. In church many of us like the old ways because they remind us of our youth or of our departed parents and loved ones. God's love is the best reason to release our desperate grip upon older expressions of the faith and to reach toward the new in trust. In the midst of our needs for comfort and stability, God loves us and invites us to serve others, which, our worship committee has decided, includes singing some newer songs. The worship committee asks you to pray for this new step in our ministry."
Pastor Jewell turned to sit. Ernest crossed his arms.
Pastor Jewell stopped and turned back to the pulpit. "One more thing: Remember Coach Charlie and his son-in-law? When we in the church embrace new forms of ministry, we might be surprised to experience the expanding and expansive love between us and our heavenly Father."
Ernest let out a slight sound, like a gasp, ending as a cough.
David Bales was a Presbyterian pastor for 33 years, a graduate of San Francisco Theological Seminary. In addition to his ministry he also has taught college: World Religions, Ethics, Biblical Hebrew and Biblical Greek (lately at College of Idaho, Caldwell). He has been a freelance writer for Stephen Ministries. His sermons and articles have appeared in Interpretation, Lectionary Homiletics, Preaching the Great Texts and other publications. For a year he wrote the online column "In The Original: Insights from Greek and Hebrew for the Lectionary Passages." His books include: Gospel Subplots: Story Sermons of God's Grace, Toward Easter and Beyond, Scenes of Glory: Subplots of God's Long Story, and To the Cross and Beyond: Cycle A Sermons for Lent and Easter. Dave has been a writer for StoryShare for five years. He can be reached at dobales.com.
*****************************************
StoryShare, January 1, 2012, issue.
Copyright 2011 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.
"I'll Be the One in Black" by C. David McKirachan
"The Prophet Anna" by Sandra Herrmann
"A Joyful or Disturbing Glimpse of the New" by David O. Bales
* * * * * * * *
I'll Be the One in Black
by C. David McKirachan
Isaiah 61:10-11
George O. Wilson said that "People need the sacred narrative... they will find a way to keep the ancestral spirits alive." This time of year we do a lot of things to reiterate our sacred narrative. Manger scenes, carols, decking the halls, mementoes from the past all reach with tentative wonder toward the story that makes us who we are. It's a great story. Why shouldn't we use it?
Even more than the quality of the tale, deeper than its cast of characters and situations that draw us on, there is here a resonance with our identity. This story is not about them, it's about us and our view of the way the universe works around us. It allows us to claim again a larger perspective as we look at our lives, including the train wrecks. Young unwed mother who converse with angels and speak with authority that is not based on any degree or social status, compassionate husband, ready to be caring of this girl, redirected by a dream, pushed as a family beyond their comfort zones by politics to a place of ancient prophecy, bearing a child in the company of animals and wild-eyed shepherds drunk on angels' anthems all do more than leave us a bit breathless and teary eyed. They affirm that in spite of evidence to the contrary, our small and lumpy lives are part of a narrative that transcends the sad and tragic. These characters are amazingly like us.
Each of us has a sacred story. A story of redemption and glory woven of the common thread of our days. So the prophet reminds us of weddings. There is much glory and wonder there, at least there is for me. I remember the miracle of that day. I was marinated in expectation, basted in hope, stuffed with more joy than any holiday bird. I sent my son to bring a single rose to my bride where she was being decked out as brides are. The note I enclosed said simply, "I'll be the one in black. I love you." She reminded me later that I wasn't the only one in black at the front of the church but that she had no trouble recognizing me. That day is filled with light, though plans and agendas skidded and broke down as we went. But the disasters all became part of the narrative, the story that reminds us every time we tell it of who we are and where we stand in this confusing and difficult universe. It is our sacred narrative.
Christmas is nothing less. It reminds us that we are important because the One cares. So it is as I light the Christ candle in the dark of Christmas Eve, the universe is filled with light. And we are all clothed in glory.
God bless us everyone.
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. McKirachan is the author of I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder (Westminster John Knox).
The Prophet Anna
by Sandra Herrmann
Luke 2:22-40
Her name was Anna bat Penuel, and she was incredibly old. Stooped over her walking stick, she looked up to the priests only with great difficulty. Yet every day she was in attendance at the blowing of the shofar [ram's horn] in the morning. And she never was late to the services of praise, never gossiped as the incense was prepared as many of the widows of the temple did.
It was said she had been married at the age of fourteen to an old man, a friend of her father or uncle. The only one who could possibly say yea or nay was Anna herself; hardly anyone was old enough to possibly remember. He had treated her well enough. But after seven years of marriage to her, he died, leaving her childless. Her father also was gone by then, and her uncle lived at some distance, so she had to look to her husband's grown sons for protection. But none of them wished to take in a woman so young with no prospects. That would saddle them with another mouth to feed for many years. Though it would have offended God if they had said so, she was not their mother, so they felt no obligation toward her. All she had to show for her service to her lord and husband was a one-room house that was falling into disrepair because she had no way to do the work herself. She was reduced to gleaning the fields of her husband's relatives.
God had provided Anna with a gift few women had -- or would admit to. She knew things no human being could know without the spirit of God helping. She knew when a woman was about to come to the birthing stool and when she prayed for someone injured, God answered her prayers for their recovery. Some of the women began meeting her at the well to ask for some slight view of the future -- would their husbands welcome another child? Could she pray for their crops, which seemed to be failing despite plenty of sun and rain and liberal applications of sheep droppings? Could she suggest some herbs or salves for rashes or broken bones?
In this way, she began to get some income, because a man might give a penny or so for the swift arrival of a midwife before anyone knew the mother was in trouble. And women were grateful to know a woman who could advise them on keeping a wayward husband or son. Even if they had no coins to give her, they had flour, oil, wine, and a piece of meat from their own pots. It was a precarious life, so she lived frugally, trusting that God would take care of what she could not.
As she got older, her body bending over more each year and her sight failing her, some of the women got together and talked with one another about what they might do for their neighborhood prophet.
"She is touched by God, no question," said the eldest midwife to the high priest's steward. "She says and things happen. This is the mark of the true prophet, is it not? Didn't Elijah do the same? She needs protection and a decent place to live where the roof tiles don't dribble rain and sand into her cooking fire."
When nothing was forthcoming in this manner, several of the women got together and went to the ritual baths as a group. They washed and then sat with their feet in the hot waters, talking this over. They made certain the chief steward heard what they said about Anna.
"It's a sin on the part of the priests, for certain," the steward heard them say. "Here we have a true prophet in our midst, and the temple priests surely must have heard of her by now. Her fame is spreading far and wide. And even though she has done wonders like the prophets of old, she sits in her doorway for fear of a roof tile falling on her head."
The steward, thinking of the status he would gain by bringing a prophet to the attention of the Temple, began to ask questions on his own. At last, he presented himself to the priest on duty for the evening sacrifice.
"This is not just idle gossip, my lord," he said, "for this Anna's name is on the lips of a wide number of people for a variety of good things she has done. God has given her knowledge of the scriptures, and you know she would have no way to read them herself. It must be that God has given her this gift! And there are a score or more children who owe their survival to this woman, who -- like Elijah -- can lay hands on the little ones and they heal almost immediately. Yet, people say we are neglecting this woman because her house is falling down around her ears, and she often fasts, not just because food is short, but out of obedience to God. What might we do for her?"
The priest had gone to the high priest and laid out a plan for this woman. The high priest, mistakenly remembering that it had been his own idea to do this thing, implemented a plan. A small apartment was created for Anna to sleep in. A table and chairs, several oil lamps and a fire pit for her to warm herself were included. She shared in the priest's food and fresh bedding on the same schedule as the Temple assistants, and thus had a reasonably comfortable life.
Now she was half deaf, walking with a stout stick and the aid of one of the children given by their parents for service in the Temple. This did not, however, stop her from making a tour of the Temple grounds each day. And in that circumnavigation of the areas of the Temple where a woman was allowed, she often stopped to talk to those who were making a pilgrimage to the Temple for one reason or another.
That is just what Anna was doing when a baby was carried in by his father for his circumcision, accompanied by the young mother. There was something about this girl that attracted Anna's attention. She could not have said what it was. Maybe the Spirit of God pushed her in that direction. She stood back as Simeon, a man who came to the Temple every day to pray for the redemption of Israel, talked to the young father.
As Simeon walked away, Anna came closer, and knew at once that God had sent her to this quiet corner of the Temple precincts. This child, this mother, this father, had been selected by God to live one of the most dangerous lives possible. The child was about to turn Israel's social order on its head. The fear and hatred that he would engender by his life and teachings would tear at the hearts of all who would know him. But especially she felt sorry for this young, hopeful mother, no older than Anna had been when she had first married. What sadness she would be facing!
For that reason, Anna stepped forward, laid her hand on the mother's arm, and told her what she had seen in this child. She felt terrible to see the shadow fall on this young one's face; but she also looked strong. Anna knew she could face it all, her faith in God was so explicit. As Mary turned away to follow her husband, Anna said a prayer for her.
Sandra Herrmann is a retired United Methodist pastor living in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
A Joyful or Disturbing Glimpse of the New
by David O. Bales
Revelation 21:1-6a
"Charlie was the high school basketball coach. Josh was the eleventh man on his team," Pastor Jewell said. She planted her elbow on the pulpit and continued. "Because the high school was small, the eleventh man on this team, Josh, wasn't a very good player. Consequently, Coach Charlie didn't know or, more truthfully, like Josh very well. Eight years later, however, Josh became Charlie's son-in-law. Over the next two decades they worked with one another on houses and cars, raised kids, taught at the same high school and became as close as father and son."
Ernest sat in the third pew from the front of the sanctuary. He had sat in this pew every Sunday starting with his marriage to Elsie 46 years before. She died a year ago. He thought: What does this preacher, a woman, know about men and basketball? And what's she doing leaning on the pulpit?
"Just an example of how gracious change arrives in our lives unexpectedly"; Pastor Jewell preached, "and life brims with change. We change roles within our families. We begin as child, most of us become husband and wife. Most of us then endure that great graduation into parenthood and even to become grandparents." She smiled and sighed, "Often we switch roles with our elderly parents and become their caretakers and so the roles change completely as we grow older. The 'new' is a natural part of living."
Ernest sat straighter. No expression.
"Within our lifetimes relationships change: from worker to foreman, from student to professional, from apprentice to journeyman."
Ernest blinked quickly to remain awake. Another psychological sermon instead of something from the Bible. What's wrong with this modern crop of preachers?
Pastor Jewell picked up the Bible on the lectern. " 'The new' is part of God's plan from the beginning. Genesis 1 ticks off the sequence of new popping up, 'day one... day two.' Christianity is the faith of the new covenant that God has made with humanity. Our Christian life is formed and informed as much by the past as by the future. Both are within God's grasp and God commands the past and future to serve Christ's purposes. Because of Jesus we live toward a new life. Paul promises that because of Jesus, "We will all be changed."
Ernest sniffed. Now she's lacing the Bible with philosophy.
"Our worship committee has been reviewing our congregation's worship ministry and praying and contemplating changes in worship this year. We want to find ways that help people accept God's grace and become Jesus' followers. We realize that younger people are more attracted to and helped by songs that sound like those from their culture."
Ernest turned his good ear slightly toward the preacher.
"In this new year, along with our traditional hymns, we'll include new songs. As one committee member put it, 'Younger people should be able to sing at least one song every Sunday that was written after their parents were born.' "
She got a couple chuckles from the congregation.
"What do we mean when we call a song 'traditional'? It usually means 'a song I've sung all my life.' We often forget that old songs once were new. And resisted! Many church leaders have been credited with a quote that hasn't been nailed down to anyone. Lots of great church leaders could have said it. When opposed for using contemporary tunes for new Christian songs the response was, 'Why should the devil have all the good tunes?' "
A few belly-laughs.
"Delve into what's traditional today and it was resisted yesterday. Handel's The Messiah, so beloved as sacred music, was performed first in a secular music hall and the church hierarchy at the time criticized it.
"The book of Revelation is custom-made for New Years Day. It's about the new that God has promised -- a new future announced to strengthen our faith and obedience. A glimpse given of the new that is -- right now -- breaking into our time from eternity. When you read the Revelation, notice how much singing goes on there. And new songs. In heaven! If in heaven God doesn't merely confirm our private values and cater to our aesthetic tastes, why would we expect otherwise on earth?"
Pastor Jewell seemed to stand taller and speak louder, "Jesus promises, 'See, I am making all things new'; yet, we cling to the old for comfort. In church many of us like the old ways because they remind us of our youth or of our departed parents and loved ones. God's love is the best reason to release our desperate grip upon older expressions of the faith and to reach toward the new in trust. In the midst of our needs for comfort and stability, God loves us and invites us to serve others, which, our worship committee has decided, includes singing some newer songs. The worship committee asks you to pray for this new step in our ministry."
Pastor Jewell turned to sit. Ernest crossed his arms.
Pastor Jewell stopped and turned back to the pulpit. "One more thing: Remember Coach Charlie and his son-in-law? When we in the church embrace new forms of ministry, we might be surprised to experience the expanding and expansive love between us and our heavenly Father."
Ernest let out a slight sound, like a gasp, ending as a cough.
David Bales was a Presbyterian pastor for 33 years, a graduate of San Francisco Theological Seminary. In addition to his ministry he also has taught college: World Religions, Ethics, Biblical Hebrew and Biblical Greek (lately at College of Idaho, Caldwell). He has been a freelance writer for Stephen Ministries. His sermons and articles have appeared in Interpretation, Lectionary Homiletics, Preaching the Great Texts and other publications. For a year he wrote the online column "In The Original: Insights from Greek and Hebrew for the Lectionary Passages." His books include: Gospel Subplots: Story Sermons of God's Grace, Toward Easter and Beyond, Scenes of Glory: Subplots of God's Long Story, and To the Cross and Beyond: Cycle A Sermons for Lent and Easter. Dave has been a writer for StoryShare for five years. He can be reached at dobales.com.
*****************************************
StoryShare, January 1, 2012, issue.
Copyright 2011 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.
