Wait There
Stories
Ascension Sunday
Acts 1:1-11
Psalm 47 or Psalm 93
Ephesians 1:15-23
Luke 24:44-53
Easter 7
Acts 1:15-17, 21-26
Psalm 1
1 John 5:9-13
John 17:6-19
Contents
What's Up This Week
A Story to Live By: "New Hope" by Constance Berg
Good Stories: "Wait There" by David O. Bales
"Jealousy" by Constance Berg
Sermon Starters: "I'll Get Back to You on That" by Terry Cain
"How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count the Ways" by Terry Cain
Scrap Pile: "A Divine Interruption" by Chuck Cammarata
What's Up This Week
We modern folk are an impatient lot -- with a multitude of responsibilities and busy schedules to keep up with, we don't do waiting well. (Especially when we spend what seems like an eternity in medical "waiting rooms"!) Our consumer culture also encourages us to think that we can have whatever we want, whenever we want it. But God has a way of subtly showing us that we need to wait on him, that we need to be patient and operate on his kairos time as well as the rigid chronos time of clocks and schedules. This week we have two powerful illustrations of that theme in David Bales' "Wait There" tale in Good Stories and Chuck Cammarata's Scrap Pile piece. Each one reminds us that we need to pause and make sure that we're truly listening and waiting on the Lord -- for it is only with his wisdom and strength that we can really do God's work.
A Story to Live By
New Hope
by Constance Berg
"But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."
Acts 1:8
Chiapas is one of the poorest states in Mexico. Viewed largely as an embarrassment to the rest of the nation, Chiapas is unsuccessfully trying to deal with hostile tribes, high illiteracy, and very rugged terrain. Travel is difficult through the subtropical and highland forests, and the existence of many language groups makes it difficult to communicate.
Outside the highland city of San Cristobal de las Casas is the village of San Juan Chamula, where the Chamula tribe resides, growing corn and selling firewood for sustenance. Most keep cattle for milk and meat. Extreme violence, domestic abuse, and an oppressive economy make this a village closed to outsiders.
Many years ago, Christian missionaries moved into this area. They were met with much suspicion and hostility by the Chamulas. But the missionaries did nothing other than observe for many years. The villagers watched as the missionaries grew food, raised their young children, and lived outside the Chamula area. Slowly, the missionaries gained the villagers' trust and began to share with them the good news of Jesus Christ.
These outsiders have influenced the group as they shared their faith with the Chamulas. Some tribal members converted from their pagan religion to a modified Christo-pagan religion common in Christian churches in Chiapas. The new converts renounced violence, spoke against domestic abuse, and created co-ops. But many were met with hostility, and some suffered violence and even death.
At first, those who renounced the Chamula way of life were ostracized. Their huts were burned, their cattle killed, and their crops destroyed. Some retracted their statements of faith and returned in shame. Some stood fast in their new faith.
Those who survived started a new village on the other side of the town of San Cristobal de las Casas. Nueva Esperanza, they called it -- "New Hope." New hope that they might be left in peace to worship the same Christ we worship. New hope that their trade co-operatives might be successful enough to sustain them. New hope that their fellow Chamulas might also find peace in knowing Christ.
Our Chamula brothers and sisters received power when the Holy Spirit came upon them and they are able to witness in Chiapas -- and to the ends of the earth.
Constance Berg is a former missionary to Chiapas, Mexico. She is currently based in Bakersfield, California, where she serves as the director of 18 nursing homes for handicapped individuals. Berg holds degrees from California State University and Lutheran Theological Southern Seminary, and she has done graduate work at Fuller Theological Seminary. She is the author of three volumes of the CSS series Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit.
Good Stories
Wait There
by David O. Bales
While staying with the apostles, Jesus ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father.
Acts 1:4
Pastor Rodney Timanian was not in the habit of sitting. Working suited his character and his religion, and at about the pace of a jog. If someone needed food, he scrounged it that day. If a family's house burned, he phoned and phoned church members until, in the spirit of charity or merely to get him off their backs, they contributed. If the city gathered homeless people as you'd collect garbage to dump it away from the noses of the rich, he spoke at the city council month after month, wrote letters to the newspaper every week, and bothered the television station until it reported the story.
Timanian wasn't contemplative. He prayed, of course. He beseeched the Almighty with a kind of reverent carping, presenting the Divine with the obvious needs and injustices that he'd thrown his life's energy into alleviating.
Timanian was honest to a fault. If asked if he listened for God to speak when he prayed, he'd say, "In order to hear God agree?" Then he'd laugh; but it was an honest as well as a nervous laugh, for in truth he assumed he understood God well -- and, yes, God had every reason to agree with him about mankind's obvious needs around the world or across the street from First Congregational Church.
On the night of the big storm, as that night would be known by everyone older than six at the time, he was unfortunately not at First Congregational Church, or even downtown. He was stuck in the parsonage built by his congregation, which, if it couldn't have an imposing parsonage next to the church building anymore, would build a palatial one on a hill a mile from town. The congregation had finally agreed with Pastor Timanian to convert their 127-year-old stately brick parsonage next to the church into a service center for the changing downtown area. The new parsonage on the hill retained a sense of the old order -- and kept up with the Roman Catholics who'd just built a splendid brick home for their priest.
So when the rains hit the whole Atlantic side of the state, Timanian happened to be home on the hill. His wife, daughter, two sons, and dog, however, were eight miles away at a basketball game. Timanian knew where they were when he realized the weather situation. He knew what to do: Drive to them and find a place to stay without returning home, because if the storm were as bad as the radio's emergency announcement, the bridge over Thoney Creek soon would wash out and stay out for quite a while.
No thinking needed here. Yet for one of the few times in his ministry Timanian thought he should pray before leaving. He would, for the next two days, deeply regret the prayer. It wasn't a pious prayer; hardly a serious one, kind of a nod to God: You're in this with me, aren't you?
Rodney Timanian the organizer, the activist, the doer, prayed for help and heard a voice say clearly, "Do not leave, but wait." He then thought he also heard something about a power from on high, but he guessed that was his memory kicking in from Acts chapter 1.
He had his hand on the doorknob, but the words were distinct, every syllable, "Do not leave, but wait." He gasped, not so much because he believed God had spoken to him, but because he disagreed. He looked up as if to say: Hey, you're talking to a man who does things for you. That's how you hard-wired my brain.
Bewildered and hopeless, he looked out the window at the wave of rain and wind blowing up the driveway. It hit the house with a thud and the lights went out. He fumbled for the telephone. It was dead. The wind shrieked, and he felt like doing so himself. He set to pacing. It was dark but he knew the place, and anyway the part of his mind that moved his body was on autopilot. The part of his mind that remembered and reasoned was on overload. Could his family find safety in such weather? Where could they stay with a dog? Water gushed down the driveway. He envisioned his family's minivan swept away in a flood.
Hanging around when things needed doing wasn't his approach to life. Hadn't God gotten him into such places in order to fix things as opposed to imprison him? Wait? He'd never been good at that. He attempted to renegotiate with God. The house shuddered. Rodney Timanian prayed again, and laid out the reasons that his wife and family needed him. Probably his parishioners needed him. He mentioned a city set on a hill and hiding one's light under a bushel, and while he was at it, he recalled his dash to church members when they were in trouble. Wait? It rhymes with "hate" -- that starts with H, and that stands for hell, wellll, almost.
He was wearing a circle in the front room carpet. He replayed the voice he'd heard. The words were distinct. The voice was no one's he'd ever known. Male probably, slightly monotone.
The storm clawed away at the coast for two days. Timanian sat helpless and chilly, although obedient, in his house on a hill. On the third day the city crew shot a rope over Thoney Creek where the bridge had been. It came with the news that his family was untouched. Pastor Timanian was not untouched. To this day, if you go with him on his afternoon rounds he'll tell you about it. As he remembers, he slows a little to tell you that God makes you wait sometimes so you can get into the habit of working for God instead of just doing God's work. It's a subtle difference, he'll grant you. If you want him to explain more fully, you'll still have to walk pretty fast to keep up with him.
David O. Bales is retiring as the pastor of Bethany Presbyterian Church in Ontario, Oregon. He is a freelance writer and editor for Stephen Ministries and Tebunah Ministries, and is the author of Gospel Subplots: Story Sermons of God's Grace (CSS).
Jealousy
by Constance Berg
We believe what people tell us; but we can trust what God says even more...
1 John 5:9-10
"You can't believe what people tell you. You have to see the person as a whole, and time will tell if a rumor is true or not." Madison's mother always had good advice, but not this time. Maddy just knew LaTosha was after her. How could she ignore LaTosha's spite?
When Maddy came into the office last week, people were looking at her differently. Maddy couldn't figure out what LaTosha had said this time, but she knew it was probably pretty bad. Jessie didn't say hi to her when Maddy walked in. Marsha just looked at her with wide eyes and then quickly looked away. Maddy decided she would just ignore it. LaTosha hadn't liked Maddy from the moment Maddy stepped into the job as supervisor. LaTosha even went so far as to tell Maddy she better not think she can boss LaTosha around because LaTosha had been there three years longer than Maddy.
LaTosha couldn't hide her jealousy. She couldn't contain her anger. She was outraged that she couldn't be the supervisor. And she was going to make Maddy pay.
Besides, just who did Maddy think she was? She came from another agency; she didn't even know the routine around here. So LaTosha started asking Maddy difficult questions in front of the staff. Maddy would stammer and say, "I'll have to find out and then get back to you." That made LaTosha feel so good. Maddy was looking stupid in front of everyone!
LaTosha was consumed with jealousy and she made sly little comments whenever she could. She was clever, and she knew how to get under Maddy's skin. She was going to make Maddy pay, that was for sure!
Maddy's heart was heavy. It had been three years since she started her job, and things were still tense. Maddy had heard things from others that Maddy had supposedly said, ridiculous things, things that Maddy could never say or do. It made her sad. It made her angry.
The staff was confused. They didn't know what to think. Was Maddy the way LaTosha said? Maddy seemed like a nice person! Was Maddy prejudiced? Was Maddy a liar? Was Maddy a hypocrite? Some came and asked Maddy; others just believed what they heard and went about their business.
The tension was building, and Maddy felt her heart skip a beat whenever she had to talk to LaTosha. At her annual checkup, Maddy got a lecture from her doctor that stress releases a hormone that makes the heart work harder and can cause high blood pressure. Maddy's blood pressure reading of 180 over 110 was considered dangerous and her doctor made her take medicine before she left the office -- with a promise to fill a prescription that very afternoon! Maddy had never been on any kind of medication before. Now she would be tied to a little pill box she carried with her in her purse. Was all this worth it?
Maddy turned inward. Why would LaTosha say all those ugly things about Maddy? How could people actually believe it? Was there any truth to these things? Maddy prayed and she fasted. She concentrated on her daily devotions. She cried; she pondered; she deliberated. But deep within her she felt a peace. She knew she could never be what LaTosha said Maddy was.
So Maddy prayed even more. She started to pray for LaTosha -- first through gritted teeth, then with pity, then with peace. At first Maddy prayed by rote, but then it touched her heart and she prayed for LaTosha's children, her ex-husbands, her family, and whoever came to her thoughts. She prayed for LaTosha as a child of God, and no matter how difficult it was to imagine, Maddy made herself envision LaTosha as a child of God, loved by God and cared for by God.
That was almost too much in the beginning, but after a few months Maddy felt a softening. She concentrated on her job, spoke to only a very few people, and made sure her boss knew where Maddy was and what she was doing at all times. Maddy asked questions and learned her job. She delivered beautiful reports.
Still, there was that tension and Maddy knew she had to leave. A hostile environment did not make for a happy workplace, and Maddy started looking around. She felt very peaceful that last day, even though she was sad to go. It had now been almost four years and she loved her job, but she knew she had to go. She knew God loved her through and through. She had learned lots from LaTosha, from other staff, and from her boss. She would take the positive and look back at this job as a learning experience.
She didn't want a going-away lunch. She just wanted to walk out, but her supervisor had been right in saying that people needed an opportunity to say good-bye. So she went to the restaurant, to the back room, and there were all kinds of staff. They came up to her and said that the little thank-you notes she left in their mail slots meant a lot. One woman came up to Maddy and thanked her again for the generous check she wrote when her husband suddenly died. And another cried when she thanked Maddy for her job after her husband was injured and became disabled.
Maddy had been so consumed with disappointment and the tension with LaTosha that she had forgotten that she had positive moments in this job. Good things for good folks had occurred. She looked around the room and saw lots of people who knew the truth. Maddy wasn't a bad person; she loved God and she had shared her love of God with others. Of that she could be proud. That's what she would take from this job!
Sermon Starters
I'll Get Back to You on That
by Terry Cain
Luke 24:44-53
Let our imagination take us out into the woods, to a small clearing where a pond shines in the morning sun like a mirror lying face-up on a table. We break the surface of the still water and descend to the bottom of the tiny lake, where we find two little grubs conversing with one another on the top of the muddy bottom.
They are talking about one of their companions who recently disappeared. They know the direction their friend went, but do not know their companion's final destination. It happened just three days ago, and their friend never returned. This wasn't the first time -- it was a well-known phenomenon that occurred periodically. Every once in a while one of their little community of grubs would crawl along the bottom of the pond to the sturdy stem of one of the water plants, and crawl up the stem to the top. That is where the mystery began, for the grubs that made this journey never returned.
The two friends who were visiting about this matter were speculating on where it was the grubs went and why, for until now no one had ever thought or talked much about these events. Each time it had happened, the little grub that had gone away never said anything beforehand about its plans. In their conversation over the matter, the two friends had an idea: they made a pact promising that if for some reason one of them should ever make that journey before the other, they would return sometime later and tell the companion about its journey. On its return, it would share the experience of where it gone and what it was all about. The agreement was made, and both were satisfied that someday the mystery might be solved and shared with the entire community, as there was some apprehension about just what might be happening to their friends since none had ever returned.
Then one day it happened -- one of the friends who had agreed on the pact felt some compelling reason to go to the stem of one of the water plants and crawl to the top. When it reached the surface of the little pond a strange thing happened. Slowly the grub morphed into a beautiful winged insect. As the new creature tried it wings, it flew from the stem of the plant into the air above the pond. It glided out over the pond, where lovely water lilies blossomed. It sailed into the woods, where it saw other beautiful flowers, great trees and vines, and beautiful colored birds. It heard the birds singing lovely songs. It looked up and saw a beautiful blue sky with fluffy white clouds sailing along. The former grub flew through a new and wonderful world that was so much greater than the world it had left down below in the bottom of the pond.
At that moment the insect remembered its promise to return to the pond bottom and reveal to its friend the miracle that awaited it too. Anticipating sharing the good news with its friends in the community down below, the insect hovered over the surface of the water. It soon realized there was no way for it to return to the other world it had left behind. It understood now why none of the grubs who had made the journey before had ever returned -- they couldn't.
But one did!
Jesus "got back to us" with the good news concerning this other world he wanted his disciples to preach and share with the rest of us.
How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count the Ways
by Terry Cain
Both of the assigned Psalms for Ascension Sunday, Psalms 47 and 93, praise God and God's greatness, and both of these scriptures proclaim God as a great King. The questions "How do we love God?" and "How do we worship God, the great King?" should continually give us pause for contemplation.
* * *
The king's birthday had come and gone. There had been a gala party to celebrate the event. Today, however, King Lion and the Elephant were lying in the shade of a banyan tree. Their naps were interspersed by periods of casual conversation, during one of which the Elephant mentioned the birthday party and commented on how nice it had been. The only response from the Lion was a growl or grumble.
"You don't sound very happy about the party," said the Elephant. "Was there something wrong with it?"
"I don't know," said the king, "it is just a feeling I have that everything wasn't right. The Gorilla seemed to be a little upset or disturbed about something. The Zebra was too gushy, too complimentary and clingy -- too nice, if that is possible. And my friend, the Rhinoceros, never even came to the party."
"Well," said the Elephant, "I don't know what to say or how to account for what you seem to have observed about your guests, and I have no idea why Ms. Rhinoceros wasn't there. However, I do have a thought about how you might discover what's behind the unnatural behavior of your friends. I hesitate to suggest it, but you might disguise yourself and go out into the community and visit with them. If they did not recognize you, they might reveal some things that would answer your questions."
King Lion thought about this suggestion for a while and decided that he would try Elephant's idea. Early the next day, King Lion donned a Water Buffalo costume and went out calling. Knowing that the water hole was a good place to meet friends, the king headed straight there, and sure enough, he found Zebra busy drinking. Zebra did not recognize the king in his disguise, and the two of them struck up a conversation. The king worked his way around to the birthday party, and inquired of Zebra how she enjoyed it. Zebra responded by telling the king that she really hadn't want to be there, but felt obligated to go because it was the king's party. Zebra said that at least she made a great impression on King Lion, and she had even used the opportunity to get rid of a gift she detested which someone had given her last Christmas. King Lion didn't linger long in discussion with Zebra and moved on, albeit no happier despite being more enlightened.
After meeting two or three more friends, the king met Gorilla on the road. After some polite conversation, during which Gorilla did not recognize King Lion in his Water Buffalo disguise, the talk turned to the party. Lion asked, "Did you enjoy the king's party the other day?"
"Not exactly," answered Gorilla. "King Lion frightens me so much that I am always uncomfortable around him. The only reason I went to the party was to make sure I am on his good side."
The king tried to convince Gorilla that King Lion was a kind and benevolent leader and not one to be afraid of. After a little more talk, the king moved on. King Lion headed next to Ms. Rhinoceros' home. When Ms. Rhinoceros answered the door, her first comment was to ask the Water Buffalo why he was at her door -- was he selling something? The king said he only needed some directions to a place he was going. He struck up a conversation regarding the weather, and eventually led it around to the party. Lion asked Ms. Rhinoceros if she went, and if she had a good time.
"No," said Rhinoceros, "I was unable to attend the party. On that very day, as I was on my way to the king's birthday party, I fortunately passed by the great rocks on the edge of the jungle and found my friend Giraffe lying on the ground. He had fallen and injured himself quite seriously. By the time I was able to get him up and help him home, get him some medical attention, and take care of some important concerns for him, it was too late to make the party. I really need to go and make my apologies to King Lion, and I hope he understands. There was no way I would neglect to help Giraffe."
"Rest assured, my friend," said Lion, "the king will not only certainly understand, but you did exactly what he would have you do in that situation. You did a kind and loving act -- which was far more important than celebrating with the king. There will be more celebrations."
Terry Cain is a retired United Methodist pastor, and the author of the CSS titles Shaking Wolves Out of Cherry Trees and Lions and Cows Dining Together.
Scrap Pile
A Divine Interruption
by Chuck Cammarata
"And see, I am sending upon you what my Father promised; so stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high."
Luke 24:49
"[S]tay in the city until...." This little phrase from the lips of Jesus, spoken to the disciples just before he ascends, is easily glossed over -- but is a fundamental part of the instructions to the disciples. In fact, it is a fundamental part of the instructions to all disciples.
Rather than saying "go out and change the world"; rather than telling the disciples to go and "proclaim the truth from the mountaintops"; rather than sending them off to heal and make whole; rather than any activity, Jesus tells them to "stay in the city." In this week's Acts passage the command from Jesus is more explicit: "Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised..." (Acts 1:4).
Yes, it is true that in Matthew Jesus commissions them to go and make disciples -- but the command here in Luke and Acts seems to be a prior command: "Go and wait for the Holy Spirit, then go and make disciples."
We modern Christians are not good at the waiting part. It seems a waste of time. We want to do. We want to accomplish. We have agendas. But the waiting, the sitting at the feet of Jesus, the praying that the disciples did in the upper room is so crucial that no real ministry by the disciples was possible without it.
We must learn to "wait until" the Lord comes to us. This waiting involves setting aside our own agendas and embracing the Lord's agenda. My story for this week looks at how God gets us to pay attention to him.
One recent Friday afternoon I was driving to one of the local religious bookstores. While driving I noticed this man foraging in the weeds along the side of the road. I had seen this guy before. Always when I've seen him he has been foraging. As I was about to drive past him, that unwelcome little voice in my head spoke to me: "Why don't you stop and offer this man some help."
My immediate response was "But Lord, I'm so busy today. It's Friday. I have a wedding tomorrow. My sermon for Sunday is far from finished. My Sunday school lesson hasn't even been thought about yet. I've got the wedding rehearsal and the dinner tonight. I'll tell you what, Lord, I'll stop and help him if he's here on my way back home."
And with that rationalization I drove on by. Vroom.
An hour later, after diddling around a long time in the bookstore, I began my journey home. Leaving the bookstore, I thought to myself, "Maybe I'll go home the other way. That way I can avoid the old guy completely." But I didn't. I went back the way I came, figuring, hoping, the old guy wouldn't be there. He was there, however.
I still didn't want to stop. "I'm too busy for this, Lord."
But I knew I needed to stop, so reluctantly I pulled into a parking area and began walking toward the man, wondering what the heck I was going to say to him.
How about "Hi, I was wondering if you were a bum in need of help." Somehow I thought that wouldn't be helpful.
As I approached him I could see that he had a big canvas sack filled with whatever he was collecting. This at least gave me something with which to start the conversation.
"Hi," I said. "Watcha hunting?"
He looked at me suspiciously, as if to say, "Don't think you're getting any of my stuff."
He said, "Glass bottles," and went back to poking in the weeds.
"Need any help?" I asked feebly.
"Nope! And why would you wanna help me?"
I thought I could hear God laughing at me.
I said, "Well, I've seen you out here before, and I just had the feeling I should stop and see if I could be of help." I meekly added, "I think God wanted me to stop."
He chuckled. "Now don't go bringin' God into this." And he stopped poking around and looked at me with big yellow eyes and said, "Thanks for stoppin', but I ain't needin' no help."
With that I turned and left. Walking back to the car, I said, "What was that all about, Lord? He ain't needin' no help!"
And God said to me something like "I know, but you needed to stop. You needed to give up your running around doing 'God's work' and slow down enough to listen to me, to be filled by me."
And I knew that was right. I needed to stop; to listen; to follow God's voice, because I often run ahead on my own and in my own strength. And when I do run ahead, when I operate in my own strength, when I fail to wait on him, abide in him -- I can do very little.
Chuck Cammarata is the pastor of Fairview Presbyterian Church in Fairview, Pennsylvania. He is the author of the CSS titles Lighting the Flame and Lectionary Worship Workbook, and editor of the funeral resources anthology Life Everlasting.
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How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply click here share-a-story@csspub.com and e-mail the story to us.
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StoryShare, May 28, 2006, issue.
Copyright 2006 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., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
Acts 1:1-11
Psalm 47 or Psalm 93
Ephesians 1:15-23
Luke 24:44-53
Easter 7
Acts 1:15-17, 21-26
Psalm 1
1 John 5:9-13
John 17:6-19
Contents
What's Up This Week
A Story to Live By: "New Hope" by Constance Berg
Good Stories: "Wait There" by David O. Bales
"Jealousy" by Constance Berg
Sermon Starters: "I'll Get Back to You on That" by Terry Cain
"How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count the Ways" by Terry Cain
Scrap Pile: "A Divine Interruption" by Chuck Cammarata
What's Up This Week
We modern folk are an impatient lot -- with a multitude of responsibilities and busy schedules to keep up with, we don't do waiting well. (Especially when we spend what seems like an eternity in medical "waiting rooms"!) Our consumer culture also encourages us to think that we can have whatever we want, whenever we want it. But God has a way of subtly showing us that we need to wait on him, that we need to be patient and operate on his kairos time as well as the rigid chronos time of clocks and schedules. This week we have two powerful illustrations of that theme in David Bales' "Wait There" tale in Good Stories and Chuck Cammarata's Scrap Pile piece. Each one reminds us that we need to pause and make sure that we're truly listening and waiting on the Lord -- for it is only with his wisdom and strength that we can really do God's work.
A Story to Live By
New Hope
by Constance Berg
"But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."
Acts 1:8
Chiapas is one of the poorest states in Mexico. Viewed largely as an embarrassment to the rest of the nation, Chiapas is unsuccessfully trying to deal with hostile tribes, high illiteracy, and very rugged terrain. Travel is difficult through the subtropical and highland forests, and the existence of many language groups makes it difficult to communicate.
Outside the highland city of San Cristobal de las Casas is the village of San Juan Chamula, where the Chamula tribe resides, growing corn and selling firewood for sustenance. Most keep cattle for milk and meat. Extreme violence, domestic abuse, and an oppressive economy make this a village closed to outsiders.
Many years ago, Christian missionaries moved into this area. They were met with much suspicion and hostility by the Chamulas. But the missionaries did nothing other than observe for many years. The villagers watched as the missionaries grew food, raised their young children, and lived outside the Chamula area. Slowly, the missionaries gained the villagers' trust and began to share with them the good news of Jesus Christ.
These outsiders have influenced the group as they shared their faith with the Chamulas. Some tribal members converted from their pagan religion to a modified Christo-pagan religion common in Christian churches in Chiapas. The new converts renounced violence, spoke against domestic abuse, and created co-ops. But many were met with hostility, and some suffered violence and even death.
At first, those who renounced the Chamula way of life were ostracized. Their huts were burned, their cattle killed, and their crops destroyed. Some retracted their statements of faith and returned in shame. Some stood fast in their new faith.
Those who survived started a new village on the other side of the town of San Cristobal de las Casas. Nueva Esperanza, they called it -- "New Hope." New hope that they might be left in peace to worship the same Christ we worship. New hope that their trade co-operatives might be successful enough to sustain them. New hope that their fellow Chamulas might also find peace in knowing Christ.
Our Chamula brothers and sisters received power when the Holy Spirit came upon them and they are able to witness in Chiapas -- and to the ends of the earth.
Constance Berg is a former missionary to Chiapas, Mexico. She is currently based in Bakersfield, California, where she serves as the director of 18 nursing homes for handicapped individuals. Berg holds degrees from California State University and Lutheran Theological Southern Seminary, and she has done graduate work at Fuller Theological Seminary. She is the author of three volumes of the CSS series Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit.
Good Stories
Wait There
by David O. Bales
While staying with the apostles, Jesus ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father.
Acts 1:4
Pastor Rodney Timanian was not in the habit of sitting. Working suited his character and his religion, and at about the pace of a jog. If someone needed food, he scrounged it that day. If a family's house burned, he phoned and phoned church members until, in the spirit of charity or merely to get him off their backs, they contributed. If the city gathered homeless people as you'd collect garbage to dump it away from the noses of the rich, he spoke at the city council month after month, wrote letters to the newspaper every week, and bothered the television station until it reported the story.
Timanian wasn't contemplative. He prayed, of course. He beseeched the Almighty with a kind of reverent carping, presenting the Divine with the obvious needs and injustices that he'd thrown his life's energy into alleviating.
Timanian was honest to a fault. If asked if he listened for God to speak when he prayed, he'd say, "In order to hear God agree?" Then he'd laugh; but it was an honest as well as a nervous laugh, for in truth he assumed he understood God well -- and, yes, God had every reason to agree with him about mankind's obvious needs around the world or across the street from First Congregational Church.
On the night of the big storm, as that night would be known by everyone older than six at the time, he was unfortunately not at First Congregational Church, or even downtown. He was stuck in the parsonage built by his congregation, which, if it couldn't have an imposing parsonage next to the church building anymore, would build a palatial one on a hill a mile from town. The congregation had finally agreed with Pastor Timanian to convert their 127-year-old stately brick parsonage next to the church into a service center for the changing downtown area. The new parsonage on the hill retained a sense of the old order -- and kept up with the Roman Catholics who'd just built a splendid brick home for their priest.
So when the rains hit the whole Atlantic side of the state, Timanian happened to be home on the hill. His wife, daughter, two sons, and dog, however, were eight miles away at a basketball game. Timanian knew where they were when he realized the weather situation. He knew what to do: Drive to them and find a place to stay without returning home, because if the storm were as bad as the radio's emergency announcement, the bridge over Thoney Creek soon would wash out and stay out for quite a while.
No thinking needed here. Yet for one of the few times in his ministry Timanian thought he should pray before leaving. He would, for the next two days, deeply regret the prayer. It wasn't a pious prayer; hardly a serious one, kind of a nod to God: You're in this with me, aren't you?
Rodney Timanian the organizer, the activist, the doer, prayed for help and heard a voice say clearly, "Do not leave, but wait." He then thought he also heard something about a power from on high, but he guessed that was his memory kicking in from Acts chapter 1.
He had his hand on the doorknob, but the words were distinct, every syllable, "Do not leave, but wait." He gasped, not so much because he believed God had spoken to him, but because he disagreed. He looked up as if to say: Hey, you're talking to a man who does things for you. That's how you hard-wired my brain.
Bewildered and hopeless, he looked out the window at the wave of rain and wind blowing up the driveway. It hit the house with a thud and the lights went out. He fumbled for the telephone. It was dead. The wind shrieked, and he felt like doing so himself. He set to pacing. It was dark but he knew the place, and anyway the part of his mind that moved his body was on autopilot. The part of his mind that remembered and reasoned was on overload. Could his family find safety in such weather? Where could they stay with a dog? Water gushed down the driveway. He envisioned his family's minivan swept away in a flood.
Hanging around when things needed doing wasn't his approach to life. Hadn't God gotten him into such places in order to fix things as opposed to imprison him? Wait? He'd never been good at that. He attempted to renegotiate with God. The house shuddered. Rodney Timanian prayed again, and laid out the reasons that his wife and family needed him. Probably his parishioners needed him. He mentioned a city set on a hill and hiding one's light under a bushel, and while he was at it, he recalled his dash to church members when they were in trouble. Wait? It rhymes with "hate" -- that starts with H, and that stands for hell, wellll, almost.
He was wearing a circle in the front room carpet. He replayed the voice he'd heard. The words were distinct. The voice was no one's he'd ever known. Male probably, slightly monotone.
The storm clawed away at the coast for two days. Timanian sat helpless and chilly, although obedient, in his house on a hill. On the third day the city crew shot a rope over Thoney Creek where the bridge had been. It came with the news that his family was untouched. Pastor Timanian was not untouched. To this day, if you go with him on his afternoon rounds he'll tell you about it. As he remembers, he slows a little to tell you that God makes you wait sometimes so you can get into the habit of working for God instead of just doing God's work. It's a subtle difference, he'll grant you. If you want him to explain more fully, you'll still have to walk pretty fast to keep up with him.
David O. Bales is retiring as the pastor of Bethany Presbyterian Church in Ontario, Oregon. He is a freelance writer and editor for Stephen Ministries and Tebunah Ministries, and is the author of Gospel Subplots: Story Sermons of God's Grace (CSS).
Jealousy
by Constance Berg
We believe what people tell us; but we can trust what God says even more...
1 John 5:9-10
"You can't believe what people tell you. You have to see the person as a whole, and time will tell if a rumor is true or not." Madison's mother always had good advice, but not this time. Maddy just knew LaTosha was after her. How could she ignore LaTosha's spite?
When Maddy came into the office last week, people were looking at her differently. Maddy couldn't figure out what LaTosha had said this time, but she knew it was probably pretty bad. Jessie didn't say hi to her when Maddy walked in. Marsha just looked at her with wide eyes and then quickly looked away. Maddy decided she would just ignore it. LaTosha hadn't liked Maddy from the moment Maddy stepped into the job as supervisor. LaTosha even went so far as to tell Maddy she better not think she can boss LaTosha around because LaTosha had been there three years longer than Maddy.
LaTosha couldn't hide her jealousy. She couldn't contain her anger. She was outraged that she couldn't be the supervisor. And she was going to make Maddy pay.
Besides, just who did Maddy think she was? She came from another agency; she didn't even know the routine around here. So LaTosha started asking Maddy difficult questions in front of the staff. Maddy would stammer and say, "I'll have to find out and then get back to you." That made LaTosha feel so good. Maddy was looking stupid in front of everyone!
LaTosha was consumed with jealousy and she made sly little comments whenever she could. She was clever, and she knew how to get under Maddy's skin. She was going to make Maddy pay, that was for sure!
Maddy's heart was heavy. It had been three years since she started her job, and things were still tense. Maddy had heard things from others that Maddy had supposedly said, ridiculous things, things that Maddy could never say or do. It made her sad. It made her angry.
The staff was confused. They didn't know what to think. Was Maddy the way LaTosha said? Maddy seemed like a nice person! Was Maddy prejudiced? Was Maddy a liar? Was Maddy a hypocrite? Some came and asked Maddy; others just believed what they heard and went about their business.
The tension was building, and Maddy felt her heart skip a beat whenever she had to talk to LaTosha. At her annual checkup, Maddy got a lecture from her doctor that stress releases a hormone that makes the heart work harder and can cause high blood pressure. Maddy's blood pressure reading of 180 over 110 was considered dangerous and her doctor made her take medicine before she left the office -- with a promise to fill a prescription that very afternoon! Maddy had never been on any kind of medication before. Now she would be tied to a little pill box she carried with her in her purse. Was all this worth it?
Maddy turned inward. Why would LaTosha say all those ugly things about Maddy? How could people actually believe it? Was there any truth to these things? Maddy prayed and she fasted. She concentrated on her daily devotions. She cried; she pondered; she deliberated. But deep within her she felt a peace. She knew she could never be what LaTosha said Maddy was.
So Maddy prayed even more. She started to pray for LaTosha -- first through gritted teeth, then with pity, then with peace. At first Maddy prayed by rote, but then it touched her heart and she prayed for LaTosha's children, her ex-husbands, her family, and whoever came to her thoughts. She prayed for LaTosha as a child of God, and no matter how difficult it was to imagine, Maddy made herself envision LaTosha as a child of God, loved by God and cared for by God.
That was almost too much in the beginning, but after a few months Maddy felt a softening. She concentrated on her job, spoke to only a very few people, and made sure her boss knew where Maddy was and what she was doing at all times. Maddy asked questions and learned her job. She delivered beautiful reports.
Still, there was that tension and Maddy knew she had to leave. A hostile environment did not make for a happy workplace, and Maddy started looking around. She felt very peaceful that last day, even though she was sad to go. It had now been almost four years and she loved her job, but she knew she had to go. She knew God loved her through and through. She had learned lots from LaTosha, from other staff, and from her boss. She would take the positive and look back at this job as a learning experience.
She didn't want a going-away lunch. She just wanted to walk out, but her supervisor had been right in saying that people needed an opportunity to say good-bye. So she went to the restaurant, to the back room, and there were all kinds of staff. They came up to her and said that the little thank-you notes she left in their mail slots meant a lot. One woman came up to Maddy and thanked her again for the generous check she wrote when her husband suddenly died. And another cried when she thanked Maddy for her job after her husband was injured and became disabled.
Maddy had been so consumed with disappointment and the tension with LaTosha that she had forgotten that she had positive moments in this job. Good things for good folks had occurred. She looked around the room and saw lots of people who knew the truth. Maddy wasn't a bad person; she loved God and she had shared her love of God with others. Of that she could be proud. That's what she would take from this job!
Sermon Starters
I'll Get Back to You on That
by Terry Cain
Luke 24:44-53
Let our imagination take us out into the woods, to a small clearing where a pond shines in the morning sun like a mirror lying face-up on a table. We break the surface of the still water and descend to the bottom of the tiny lake, where we find two little grubs conversing with one another on the top of the muddy bottom.
They are talking about one of their companions who recently disappeared. They know the direction their friend went, but do not know their companion's final destination. It happened just three days ago, and their friend never returned. This wasn't the first time -- it was a well-known phenomenon that occurred periodically. Every once in a while one of their little community of grubs would crawl along the bottom of the pond to the sturdy stem of one of the water plants, and crawl up the stem to the top. That is where the mystery began, for the grubs that made this journey never returned.
The two friends who were visiting about this matter were speculating on where it was the grubs went and why, for until now no one had ever thought or talked much about these events. Each time it had happened, the little grub that had gone away never said anything beforehand about its plans. In their conversation over the matter, the two friends had an idea: they made a pact promising that if for some reason one of them should ever make that journey before the other, they would return sometime later and tell the companion about its journey. On its return, it would share the experience of where it gone and what it was all about. The agreement was made, and both were satisfied that someday the mystery might be solved and shared with the entire community, as there was some apprehension about just what might be happening to their friends since none had ever returned.
Then one day it happened -- one of the friends who had agreed on the pact felt some compelling reason to go to the stem of one of the water plants and crawl to the top. When it reached the surface of the little pond a strange thing happened. Slowly the grub morphed into a beautiful winged insect. As the new creature tried it wings, it flew from the stem of the plant into the air above the pond. It glided out over the pond, where lovely water lilies blossomed. It sailed into the woods, where it saw other beautiful flowers, great trees and vines, and beautiful colored birds. It heard the birds singing lovely songs. It looked up and saw a beautiful blue sky with fluffy white clouds sailing along. The former grub flew through a new and wonderful world that was so much greater than the world it had left down below in the bottom of the pond.
At that moment the insect remembered its promise to return to the pond bottom and reveal to its friend the miracle that awaited it too. Anticipating sharing the good news with its friends in the community down below, the insect hovered over the surface of the water. It soon realized there was no way for it to return to the other world it had left behind. It understood now why none of the grubs who had made the journey before had ever returned -- they couldn't.
But one did!
Jesus "got back to us" with the good news concerning this other world he wanted his disciples to preach and share with the rest of us.
How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count the Ways
by Terry Cain
Both of the assigned Psalms for Ascension Sunday, Psalms 47 and 93, praise God and God's greatness, and both of these scriptures proclaim God as a great King. The questions "How do we love God?" and "How do we worship God, the great King?" should continually give us pause for contemplation.
* * *
The king's birthday had come and gone. There had been a gala party to celebrate the event. Today, however, King Lion and the Elephant were lying in the shade of a banyan tree. Their naps were interspersed by periods of casual conversation, during one of which the Elephant mentioned the birthday party and commented on how nice it had been. The only response from the Lion was a growl or grumble.
"You don't sound very happy about the party," said the Elephant. "Was there something wrong with it?"
"I don't know," said the king, "it is just a feeling I have that everything wasn't right. The Gorilla seemed to be a little upset or disturbed about something. The Zebra was too gushy, too complimentary and clingy -- too nice, if that is possible. And my friend, the Rhinoceros, never even came to the party."
"Well," said the Elephant, "I don't know what to say or how to account for what you seem to have observed about your guests, and I have no idea why Ms. Rhinoceros wasn't there. However, I do have a thought about how you might discover what's behind the unnatural behavior of your friends. I hesitate to suggest it, but you might disguise yourself and go out into the community and visit with them. If they did not recognize you, they might reveal some things that would answer your questions."
King Lion thought about this suggestion for a while and decided that he would try Elephant's idea. Early the next day, King Lion donned a Water Buffalo costume and went out calling. Knowing that the water hole was a good place to meet friends, the king headed straight there, and sure enough, he found Zebra busy drinking. Zebra did not recognize the king in his disguise, and the two of them struck up a conversation. The king worked his way around to the birthday party, and inquired of Zebra how she enjoyed it. Zebra responded by telling the king that she really hadn't want to be there, but felt obligated to go because it was the king's party. Zebra said that at least she made a great impression on King Lion, and she had even used the opportunity to get rid of a gift she detested which someone had given her last Christmas. King Lion didn't linger long in discussion with Zebra and moved on, albeit no happier despite being more enlightened.
After meeting two or three more friends, the king met Gorilla on the road. After some polite conversation, during which Gorilla did not recognize King Lion in his Water Buffalo disguise, the talk turned to the party. Lion asked, "Did you enjoy the king's party the other day?"
"Not exactly," answered Gorilla. "King Lion frightens me so much that I am always uncomfortable around him. The only reason I went to the party was to make sure I am on his good side."
The king tried to convince Gorilla that King Lion was a kind and benevolent leader and not one to be afraid of. After a little more talk, the king moved on. King Lion headed next to Ms. Rhinoceros' home. When Ms. Rhinoceros answered the door, her first comment was to ask the Water Buffalo why he was at her door -- was he selling something? The king said he only needed some directions to a place he was going. He struck up a conversation regarding the weather, and eventually led it around to the party. Lion asked Ms. Rhinoceros if she went, and if she had a good time.
"No," said Rhinoceros, "I was unable to attend the party. On that very day, as I was on my way to the king's birthday party, I fortunately passed by the great rocks on the edge of the jungle and found my friend Giraffe lying on the ground. He had fallen and injured himself quite seriously. By the time I was able to get him up and help him home, get him some medical attention, and take care of some important concerns for him, it was too late to make the party. I really need to go and make my apologies to King Lion, and I hope he understands. There was no way I would neglect to help Giraffe."
"Rest assured, my friend," said Lion, "the king will not only certainly understand, but you did exactly what he would have you do in that situation. You did a kind and loving act -- which was far more important than celebrating with the king. There will be more celebrations."
Terry Cain is a retired United Methodist pastor, and the author of the CSS titles Shaking Wolves Out of Cherry Trees and Lions and Cows Dining Together.
Scrap Pile
A Divine Interruption
by Chuck Cammarata
"And see, I am sending upon you what my Father promised; so stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high."
Luke 24:49
"[S]tay in the city until...." This little phrase from the lips of Jesus, spoken to the disciples just before he ascends, is easily glossed over -- but is a fundamental part of the instructions to the disciples. In fact, it is a fundamental part of the instructions to all disciples.
Rather than saying "go out and change the world"; rather than telling the disciples to go and "proclaim the truth from the mountaintops"; rather than sending them off to heal and make whole; rather than any activity, Jesus tells them to "stay in the city." In this week's Acts passage the command from Jesus is more explicit: "Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised..." (Acts 1:4).
Yes, it is true that in Matthew Jesus commissions them to go and make disciples -- but the command here in Luke and Acts seems to be a prior command: "Go and wait for the Holy Spirit, then go and make disciples."
We modern Christians are not good at the waiting part. It seems a waste of time. We want to do. We want to accomplish. We have agendas. But the waiting, the sitting at the feet of Jesus, the praying that the disciples did in the upper room is so crucial that no real ministry by the disciples was possible without it.
We must learn to "wait until" the Lord comes to us. This waiting involves setting aside our own agendas and embracing the Lord's agenda. My story for this week looks at how God gets us to pay attention to him.
One recent Friday afternoon I was driving to one of the local religious bookstores. While driving I noticed this man foraging in the weeds along the side of the road. I had seen this guy before. Always when I've seen him he has been foraging. As I was about to drive past him, that unwelcome little voice in my head spoke to me: "Why don't you stop and offer this man some help."
My immediate response was "But Lord, I'm so busy today. It's Friday. I have a wedding tomorrow. My sermon for Sunday is far from finished. My Sunday school lesson hasn't even been thought about yet. I've got the wedding rehearsal and the dinner tonight. I'll tell you what, Lord, I'll stop and help him if he's here on my way back home."
And with that rationalization I drove on by. Vroom.
An hour later, after diddling around a long time in the bookstore, I began my journey home. Leaving the bookstore, I thought to myself, "Maybe I'll go home the other way. That way I can avoid the old guy completely." But I didn't. I went back the way I came, figuring, hoping, the old guy wouldn't be there. He was there, however.
I still didn't want to stop. "I'm too busy for this, Lord."
But I knew I needed to stop, so reluctantly I pulled into a parking area and began walking toward the man, wondering what the heck I was going to say to him.
How about "Hi, I was wondering if you were a bum in need of help." Somehow I thought that wouldn't be helpful.
As I approached him I could see that he had a big canvas sack filled with whatever he was collecting. This at least gave me something with which to start the conversation.
"Hi," I said. "Watcha hunting?"
He looked at me suspiciously, as if to say, "Don't think you're getting any of my stuff."
He said, "Glass bottles," and went back to poking in the weeds.
"Need any help?" I asked feebly.
"Nope! And why would you wanna help me?"
I thought I could hear God laughing at me.
I said, "Well, I've seen you out here before, and I just had the feeling I should stop and see if I could be of help." I meekly added, "I think God wanted me to stop."
He chuckled. "Now don't go bringin' God into this." And he stopped poking around and looked at me with big yellow eyes and said, "Thanks for stoppin', but I ain't needin' no help."
With that I turned and left. Walking back to the car, I said, "What was that all about, Lord? He ain't needin' no help!"
And God said to me something like "I know, but you needed to stop. You needed to give up your running around doing 'God's work' and slow down enough to listen to me, to be filled by me."
And I knew that was right. I needed to stop; to listen; to follow God's voice, because I often run ahead on my own and in my own strength. And when I do run ahead, when I operate in my own strength, when I fail to wait on him, abide in him -- I can do very little.
Chuck Cammarata is the pastor of Fairview Presbyterian Church in Fairview, Pennsylvania. He is the author of the CSS titles Lighting the Flame and Lectionary Worship Workbook, and editor of the funeral resources anthology Life Everlasting.
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How to Share Stories
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StoryShare, May 28, 2006, issue.
Copyright 2006 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., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
