Thoughtful Action
Stories
Object:
Contents
"Thoughtful Action" by Peter Andrew Smith
"A Curse" by C. David McKirachan
Thoughtful Action
by Peter Andrew Smith
Luke 10:38-42
Beth threw the mixing bowl on the counter and slammed the cupboard door. She tore open the bag of flour and dumped some into the empty bowl. She tossed in butter and sugar and emptied a cup of water with yeast on top. She grabbed a wooden spoon and muttered under her breath as she attacked the batter.
Ida quietly walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. She added a few drops of milk and gently stirred in a touch of sugar. She sat at the table and watched her daughter working the mixture in the bowl.
“Rough night at Women’s Group?”
“The minister came and spoke to us,” Beth said.
“Oh?”
“Yes, some of the others thought that it might be nice to have him do a devotional.” Beth shook her head. “He led us through a passage of scripture.”
Ida nodded. “We’ve had minister’s do that in the past.”
“Not like this, I bet. I’ve never been so angry at a Women’s Group meeting.”
“Why? I thought you liked Pastor Luke.”
“I do. He’s a nice man.” Beth whipped the dough even faster. “The problem is that he chose to do a devotional on Mary and Martha.”
“That sounds reasonable to me given his audience.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you’d been there.”
Ida sipped her coffee. “I take it you have a problem with what he said?”
“He said that Mary was better than Martha!” Beth overturned the bowl on the counter and attacked the mixture with her hands. “How dare he?”
Ida pursed her lips. “Isn’t that how the story goes? Jesus comes to visit and Mary listens while Martha does lots of things, then complains about her sister, and Jesus tells her Mary has made the better choice?”
Beth stopped and stared at her mother. “You mean you actually agree with him?”
“All I know is what the Bible says.” Ida shrugged. “What did he say that was so offensive?”
“He said that we should be like Mary.” Beth flipped the dough over and began to hit it with her fists. “Who would end up hosting the next congregational dinner if not the Women’s Group? Does he expect the spring cleaning to just happen? Are the flowers going to plant themselves each year? Honestly, I don’t think anyone appreciates what we do. Maybe we should be like Mary and just sit around. That would teach him and the rest of the congregation.”
Ida watched as her daughter furiously kneaded the dough. She put her cup down on the table.
“What is it that you’re making, dear?”
“Rolls.”
“Did you remember the salt?”
Beth froze. She looked at the mess in front of her. “I’ll have to start again.”
“No, just put it back into the bowl for a moment.” Ida got up and opened the cupboard.
“It won’t taste right, Mom.”
“Would you prefer to throw it out?” Ida stood next to her daughter with a salt shaker. “Start slowly kneading the dough.”
Beth worked the dough with her hands as Ida gently shook salt into the bowl. After a few moments, Ida nodded and went back to her chair and coffee.
“You think it’ll be okay?” Beth eyed the mixture in front of her.
Ida shrugged. “Maybe not the best but certainly better than without the salt.”
“Thanks for the save, Mom.”
“No problem.”
Beth divided the dough and turned the oven on to heat.
Ida finished the last of her coffee. “Still cross about what happened at Women’s Group tonight?”
“I am.” Beth put the rolls into the pan. “No one should say that Mary is better than Martha.”
“Even after you just made the same mistake that Martha did in the story?”
“What? I was just upset is all. Anyone can forget ingredients.”
“Absolutely,” Ida said.“Which is why we can’t forget that thinking, planning, and study always have an essential role in our faith. Your grandmother used to say that doing thoughtfully is always the best doing.”
Beth looked at her mother and the mess of the kitchen. “I guess I should’ve taken a few moments before I started.”
“I think the key is to make sure it’s the time for action before you start doing things. Just like in the story.” Ida smiled at her. “Mary realized that with Jesus there she needed to listen. Martha was just too busy to recognize what she was missing.”
“How did you get so smart, Mom?”
Ida winked at her. “I’ve eaten a lot of bread without salt in it.”
Peter Andrew Smith is an ordained minister in the United Church of Canada currently serving St. James United Church in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. He is the author of All Things are Ready (CSS) a book of lectionary based communion prayers and a number of stories and articles, which can be found listed at www.peterandrewsmith.com.
***
A Curse
by C. David McKirachan
Luke 10:38-42
When I was a kid I went to the church where my father was pastor. Both my father and my mother had a deep faith. They taught me the Lord’s Prayer. I learned it, by wrote along with the twenty third psalm and the alphabet. When I was five I was rewarded with being taught to tie my shoes for learning the first psalm. It was good for my development, but the meaning, the concepts behind the words didn’t sink in. In my ministry I’ve found that most of our people, faithful though they may be, have that same sense of what these standards of our faith mean.
Then my father preached a series of sermons on the Lord’s Prayer and it occurred to me that this accumulation of words that we used on a regular basis had a deep and profound meaning for me and for all of God’s people. I remember being impressed about the responsibility that came along with ‘?forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.’ He said we were making a promise to God with a consequence, to forgive us in the same manner as we have forgiven. My father told us that such a promise is almost a curse. We are asking for the mercy of God to match our own mercy.
I don’t know about you but in my life, I’ve seen plenty of evidence of the limitations of the mercy of human beings. We have a tendency to give medals to people who are effective killers of our enemies. We spend huge amounts of money on machines to wipe out others efficiently. We vote for people who are ‘hard on crime.’ Then there’s our tendency to hold others’ behavior against them, shutting them out of our relationships and wishing them no good times. These are hard issues to bring up in public without being condemned. But I would say they demonstrate a tendency to reject mercy rather than being ruled by it. Would you be willing to have a God who was as merciful as our justice system?
Our God is a God of mercy. That’s what the cross is all about. But Jesus confronted us with our own responsibility, to not only rely on God’s mercy but to put ourselves in the position of being judged by our own inability to forgive. And our Lord imbedded it in the pattern, the template for prayer that He gave us. When I realized that, it gave me bad dreams.
I was a kid. So, I went to my father, in his study and laid it out. “Does this mean that if God listens to what we pray and says yes to our prayer, we will be judged by our own lack of mercy?” He wasn’t one to mince words. “Yes. It does.” Then, he continued, “How does that make you feel?” I shook my head and said, “Scared. Sometimes I don’t forgive very well. I get angry and want bad things to happen to people because they’ve hurt or insulted me.” He nodded. “If we take our own lack of mercy seriously, we’ll see how devastating it can be to us and to others. Jesus was trying to teach us and help us learn that our judgement of others and our unwillingness to forgive doesn’t only hurt them. It hurts us too. And we have to take that very seriously, from a personal all the way up to an international scale”
Then he surprised me. “You’ve made me very proud, David.” “Why?” “Because you’re taking all of this very seriously. You’re not shrugging it off. You’re not willing to just say the words and duck the truth that Jesus put into them for us.” Then he let me off the hook, “I think you missed the last point in the sermon.” That was true, embarrassing but true. “What was it?” “I told everyone that though our mercy is crippled and many times downright savage, God’s mercy isn’t. Our only hope is to rely on God’s mercy. God loves you. And Jesus was trying to teach us that as much or more than he was teaching us how to be better human beings.”
I went away from that conversation glad that my father was proud of me. I didn’t really understand why, but I was willing to take it. I also never again said the Lord’s Prayer without paying attention to the words. And the next time I got mad at someone, it made me a little frightened. It made me want to clean up the problem. I didn’t want God getting even with me.
I don’t know if that’s evidence of salvation or good old fashioned neurosis.
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. Two of his books, I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder, have been published by Westminster John Knox Press. McKirachan was raised in a pastor's home and he is the brother of a pastor, and he has discovered his name indicates that he has druid roots. Storytelling seems to be a congenital disorder. He lives with his 21-year-old son Ben and his dog Sam.
*****************************************
StoryShare, July 17, 2016, issue.
Copyright 2016 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.
"Thoughtful Action" by Peter Andrew Smith
"A Curse" by C. David McKirachan
Thoughtful Action
by Peter Andrew Smith
Luke 10:38-42
Beth threw the mixing bowl on the counter and slammed the cupboard door. She tore open the bag of flour and dumped some into the empty bowl. She tossed in butter and sugar and emptied a cup of water with yeast on top. She grabbed a wooden spoon and muttered under her breath as she attacked the batter.
Ida quietly walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. She added a few drops of milk and gently stirred in a touch of sugar. She sat at the table and watched her daughter working the mixture in the bowl.
“Rough night at Women’s Group?”
“The minister came and spoke to us,” Beth said.
“Oh?”
“Yes, some of the others thought that it might be nice to have him do a devotional.” Beth shook her head. “He led us through a passage of scripture.”
Ida nodded. “We’ve had minister’s do that in the past.”
“Not like this, I bet. I’ve never been so angry at a Women’s Group meeting.”
“Why? I thought you liked Pastor Luke.”
“I do. He’s a nice man.” Beth whipped the dough even faster. “The problem is that he chose to do a devotional on Mary and Martha.”
“That sounds reasonable to me given his audience.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you’d been there.”
Ida sipped her coffee. “I take it you have a problem with what he said?”
“He said that Mary was better than Martha!” Beth overturned the bowl on the counter and attacked the mixture with her hands. “How dare he?”
Ida pursed her lips. “Isn’t that how the story goes? Jesus comes to visit and Mary listens while Martha does lots of things, then complains about her sister, and Jesus tells her Mary has made the better choice?”
Beth stopped and stared at her mother. “You mean you actually agree with him?”
“All I know is what the Bible says.” Ida shrugged. “What did he say that was so offensive?”
“He said that we should be like Mary.” Beth flipped the dough over and began to hit it with her fists. “Who would end up hosting the next congregational dinner if not the Women’s Group? Does he expect the spring cleaning to just happen? Are the flowers going to plant themselves each year? Honestly, I don’t think anyone appreciates what we do. Maybe we should be like Mary and just sit around. That would teach him and the rest of the congregation.”
Ida watched as her daughter furiously kneaded the dough. She put her cup down on the table.
“What is it that you’re making, dear?”
“Rolls.”
“Did you remember the salt?”
Beth froze. She looked at the mess in front of her. “I’ll have to start again.”
“No, just put it back into the bowl for a moment.” Ida got up and opened the cupboard.
“It won’t taste right, Mom.”
“Would you prefer to throw it out?” Ida stood next to her daughter with a salt shaker. “Start slowly kneading the dough.”
Beth worked the dough with her hands as Ida gently shook salt into the bowl. After a few moments, Ida nodded and went back to her chair and coffee.
“You think it’ll be okay?” Beth eyed the mixture in front of her.
Ida shrugged. “Maybe not the best but certainly better than without the salt.”
“Thanks for the save, Mom.”
“No problem.”
Beth divided the dough and turned the oven on to heat.
Ida finished the last of her coffee. “Still cross about what happened at Women’s Group tonight?”
“I am.” Beth put the rolls into the pan. “No one should say that Mary is better than Martha.”
“Even after you just made the same mistake that Martha did in the story?”
“What? I was just upset is all. Anyone can forget ingredients.”
“Absolutely,” Ida said.“Which is why we can’t forget that thinking, planning, and study always have an essential role in our faith. Your grandmother used to say that doing thoughtfully is always the best doing.”
Beth looked at her mother and the mess of the kitchen. “I guess I should’ve taken a few moments before I started.”
“I think the key is to make sure it’s the time for action before you start doing things. Just like in the story.” Ida smiled at her. “Mary realized that with Jesus there she needed to listen. Martha was just too busy to recognize what she was missing.”
“How did you get so smart, Mom?”
Ida winked at her. “I’ve eaten a lot of bread without salt in it.”
Peter Andrew Smith is an ordained minister in the United Church of Canada currently serving St. James United Church in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. He is the author of All Things are Ready (CSS) a book of lectionary based communion prayers and a number of stories and articles, which can be found listed at www.peterandrewsmith.com.
***
A Curse
by C. David McKirachan
Luke 10:38-42
When I was a kid I went to the church where my father was pastor. Both my father and my mother had a deep faith. They taught me the Lord’s Prayer. I learned it, by wrote along with the twenty third psalm and the alphabet. When I was five I was rewarded with being taught to tie my shoes for learning the first psalm. It was good for my development, but the meaning, the concepts behind the words didn’t sink in. In my ministry I’ve found that most of our people, faithful though they may be, have that same sense of what these standards of our faith mean.
Then my father preached a series of sermons on the Lord’s Prayer and it occurred to me that this accumulation of words that we used on a regular basis had a deep and profound meaning for me and for all of God’s people. I remember being impressed about the responsibility that came along with ‘?forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.’ He said we were making a promise to God with a consequence, to forgive us in the same manner as we have forgiven. My father told us that such a promise is almost a curse. We are asking for the mercy of God to match our own mercy.
I don’t know about you but in my life, I’ve seen plenty of evidence of the limitations of the mercy of human beings. We have a tendency to give medals to people who are effective killers of our enemies. We spend huge amounts of money on machines to wipe out others efficiently. We vote for people who are ‘hard on crime.’ Then there’s our tendency to hold others’ behavior against them, shutting them out of our relationships and wishing them no good times. These are hard issues to bring up in public without being condemned. But I would say they demonstrate a tendency to reject mercy rather than being ruled by it. Would you be willing to have a God who was as merciful as our justice system?
Our God is a God of mercy. That’s what the cross is all about. But Jesus confronted us with our own responsibility, to not only rely on God’s mercy but to put ourselves in the position of being judged by our own inability to forgive. And our Lord imbedded it in the pattern, the template for prayer that He gave us. When I realized that, it gave me bad dreams.
I was a kid. So, I went to my father, in his study and laid it out. “Does this mean that if God listens to what we pray and says yes to our prayer, we will be judged by our own lack of mercy?” He wasn’t one to mince words. “Yes. It does.” Then, he continued, “How does that make you feel?” I shook my head and said, “Scared. Sometimes I don’t forgive very well. I get angry and want bad things to happen to people because they’ve hurt or insulted me.” He nodded. “If we take our own lack of mercy seriously, we’ll see how devastating it can be to us and to others. Jesus was trying to teach us and help us learn that our judgement of others and our unwillingness to forgive doesn’t only hurt them. It hurts us too. And we have to take that very seriously, from a personal all the way up to an international scale”
Then he surprised me. “You’ve made me very proud, David.” “Why?” “Because you’re taking all of this very seriously. You’re not shrugging it off. You’re not willing to just say the words and duck the truth that Jesus put into them for us.” Then he let me off the hook, “I think you missed the last point in the sermon.” That was true, embarrassing but true. “What was it?” “I told everyone that though our mercy is crippled and many times downright savage, God’s mercy isn’t. Our only hope is to rely on God’s mercy. God loves you. And Jesus was trying to teach us that as much or more than he was teaching us how to be better human beings.”
I went away from that conversation glad that my father was proud of me. I didn’t really understand why, but I was willing to take it. I also never again said the Lord’s Prayer without paying attention to the words. And the next time I got mad at someone, it made me a little frightened. It made me want to clean up the problem. I didn’t want God getting even with me.
I don’t know if that’s evidence of salvation or good old fashioned neurosis.
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. Two of his books, I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder, have been published by Westminster John Knox Press. McKirachan was raised in a pastor's home and he is the brother of a pastor, and he has discovered his name indicates that he has druid roots. Storytelling seems to be a congenital disorder. He lives with his 21-year-old son Ben and his dog Sam.
*****************************************
StoryShare, July 17, 2016, issue.
Copyright 2016 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.
