Written
Stories
Object:
Contents
"Written" by David O. Bales
"Jesus Was an Alien" by C. David McKirachan
"Twitter This!" by C. David McKirachan
"Silver Creek" by Keith Hewitt
"The Rich Man and the Tailor" by Larry Winebrenner
"Open My Lips, Lord" by Larry Winebrenner
"March of Darkness" by Keith Hewitt
* * * * * * * *
Written
by David O. Bales
Exodus 24:12-18
When Andy said, "I'm no Boy Scout," he meant it literally and seriously. How he wished he had skills to scout a route through the woods because four scared guys stood staring at him and David. David, with a frightened look on his face, kept glancing down at his GPS and then up at the other hikers.
"So now what?" Eugene asked. Eugene was a college junior, helping during the summer as assistant youth leader. He shifted his backpack as he put his a foot onto a large rock. "Can't stay here."
"Just give me a minute," Andy said as he looked around at the dense forest. He had to think fast about a situation he was unprepared to consider, and he was doubly angry because he always, always planned ahead. David had said his GPS would lead them perfectly and Andy had seen it work before. Today, about 15 miles toward their 20 mile goal, the GPS battery died.
"It was charged yesterday morning," David said and shook it. "I don't know what happened."
"Yeah, all right, all right," Andy waved him off and again looked away from the group, hoping to think better without seeing their desperate, accusing faces. After a minute, Andy turned back to the group and spoke slowly, "Here's what we'll do. This path splits three ways. We don't know which leads to the van. So," he took a deep breath, "we'll split into three groups."
"What?" Eugene said, "That's super dangerous... should never separate with it getting dark and all."
"I know," Andy said. He saw that the others instantly agreed with Eugene. "But I don't mean splitting up for good. We go two by two, one person in each group with a watch. We go for an hour and a half, carefully noticing our way. After an hour and a half each group turns around and comes back to this point. One of our groups should reach the van and be able, then, to return to meet the rest here."
Everyone was quiet for a few moments, letting the idea sink in. "I'm willing to try it," Eugene said, "but, as dangerous as it is, I think we'd better go for two hours to be certain."
Andy took in a quick breath. The others looked at him, waiting. At that moment he was also trying to decide if he would resign as youth pastor so he'd never again get others into such a spot. He nodded his head. "You're right. Eugene, you and Jonathan take this trail. Hutch and Will that trail. David and I will go this way. Check your watch. It's 4:47. Two hours and then come back here. Each group of two stays together, okay? And on the trail. Don't get off the trail for anything. Let's pray before we split."
Andy prayed for guidance, protection, and strength. The four high school boys and their two leaders had already spent a hard day's hike after a pitiful night's sleep on a rocky outcropping. During the night Will was certain he'd heard a mountain lion. Now, if the weather didn't change, they had a good chance of reaching David's parents awaiting them in the church van at the next trailhead.
A couple times, as he and David walked, Andy reassured David that the problem with the GPS wasn't his fault. Andy knew, and suffered by knowing, it was his own fault for trusting the gadget. Andy should've studied the trail's map instead of assuming they'd just be led grid by grid on a little screen with a red line. He prayed nearly every step and was careful to do as he instructed the others: He noted each turn of the trail and looked backward to see how it would appear when they returned. It would be dark by then and their tiny camping flashlights illumined only a small circle in front of them.
All three groups of fellows must have walked back faster than they walked apart. Andy and David returned first -- 10 minutes before their full four hours. Will and Hutch arrived within two minutes. A couple minutes later they heard a lot of talking, and then saw flashlights. The four of them dashed up the trail to meet Eugene leading Jonathan and David's father. David's father had brought extra flashlights. They all laughed in relief and the four took off their packs to rest.
When they hiked out of the forest at the trailhead, it was pitch dark. David's mother hugged each of them. Andy apologized to everyone repeatedly. They assured him it wasn't his fault. He, however, insisted, "I will never, never, alone or with others, with or without a GPS, go on a hike without having something written, paper, a map, right here in my hand." Everyone agreed with him gladly.
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.
Jesus Was an Alien!
by C. David McKirachan
Matthew 17:1-9
I went to seminary in Berkeley, California. The town is affectionately known as Bezerk-ley. Taking that into account you'd expect lots of crazy stuff to come up. I did. I looked forward to it. I instigated some of it. So, one day we were dealing with the Transfiguration and one of my fellow students, with the excitement of a true believer, began the class that he had found conclusive proof in this passage for Jesus being an alien. It had to do with the cloud and the brilliance with which Jesus shown. The word in Greek had more to do with dazzling reflection from metal than with bright cloth. They saw a space ship, and Jesus went up there to meet the pilots, Moses and Elijah.
Poo poo it we may, from our high positions of theologically esoteric heights or geographical prejudice, but the space ship scenario makes more sense according to our materialistic understanding of everything than some spiritual visitation of prophets to the man Jesus as he prepared to journey into the mouth of the beast. This is nuts. It's almost as nuts as angels appearing to unwed mothers and shepherds, let alone Iranian NSA agents. But that's another story. This is okay for biblical epics, but really, how can self-respecting highly educated, thinking human beings buy this stuff?
The judgment here is on our buying into the barren mythology of our culture. The logic of the story is firm. Jesus revealed himself to be at home with giants of the faith, people whose relationship with God was as intimate as any had ever been. They were people who served the Lord and struggled with doubt and trouble and loneliness. And they came to this one who was facing a task that had never been demanded of any of God's children. It also places Jesus teaching about the kingdom of God in another light, a dazzling light, if you will. Jesus may have been a man, but he came from someplace west of California, and I don't mean Hawaii. In this passage we see Jesus at home with souls that he knew.
Now I don't even pretend to understand what the above means. But maybe that's the point. Maybe this intersection is there to remind us that there are things going on here that are beyond our understanding, and that's not a bad thing. Maybe this reminds us not to sell this Jesus guy short. But in spite of all the dazzling and clouding and special effect action, Jesus brought these guys, his three disciples up there to be with him. Maybe we are also to remember that we, limited, fearful beings are just as important to him as Moses and Elijah. Maybe this Earth is just as important to God as Heaven. Maybe we're so good at forgetting that that we need to be dazzled once in a while. And we need to be invited to come down off the cloudy mountains of revelation to another, smaller hill with three crosses on it.
Now you want to hear a crazy story? Meet me at the other end of Lent.
Twitter this!
by C. David McKirachan
Psalm 2
The recent unrest in the Arab world is challenging the autocratic vice grip on millions of people who have lived with its pressure and restriction for decades, some would say centuries. Autocrats have no esteem for change. As Joe Klein said in Time magazine, "They [autocrats] have an unrealistic view of their own indispensability." The media revolution of recent years has changed the rules that have worked so well for so long. Suddenly people who protest cannot be separated from the herd and suddenly disappear in the night. They cannot be intimidated because they out number the intimidators. And they know a watching world is aware of them at every turn. Yet the rulers of this present age seem to think that in spite of all the changes, the old rules will work. They are surprised, defensive, aghast that these upstarts would dare to demand something as outrageous as rights, a say in what happens, freedom.
At the core of much of this unrest is not a technology of weapons or terror, but the ability to communicate with others, even millions at the touch of a key or a screen. Most of the time put to trivial use, listing condiments as often as hopes and fears. But in this case the social media have become pathways toward connections between people never dreamed of by the generations that lived under the thumbs of rulers with less imagination than the willingness to insist that the past be the only reality available.
We see ourselves as beyond all this. We are people with a history of liberty and justice for all. Yet as the Psalmist contemplated the patterns of political power broking of his day and lifted up the transcendent power of the living God and the useless posturing of the wielders of earthly power, he saw the distance between their sense of authority and the truth of their vulnerability.
If we as the people of God are to be anything but silly in a false security because of our slogans and our flags, if we are to have something other than an unrealistic view of our own indispensability, then we need be humble and willing to make room for the new among us, however strange it might seem. We must learn to honor each other as the autocrats obviously refuse to. For that is God's will. All else will fall.
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).
*****************************************
StoryShare, March 6, 2011, 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.
"Written" by David O. Bales
"Jesus Was an Alien" by C. David McKirachan
"Twitter This!" by C. David McKirachan
"Silver Creek" by Keith Hewitt
"The Rich Man and the Tailor" by Larry Winebrenner
"Open My Lips, Lord" by Larry Winebrenner
"March of Darkness" by Keith Hewitt
* * * * * * * *
Written
by David O. Bales
Exodus 24:12-18
When Andy said, "I'm no Boy Scout," he meant it literally and seriously. How he wished he had skills to scout a route through the woods because four scared guys stood staring at him and David. David, with a frightened look on his face, kept glancing down at his GPS and then up at the other hikers.
"So now what?" Eugene asked. Eugene was a college junior, helping during the summer as assistant youth leader. He shifted his backpack as he put his a foot onto a large rock. "Can't stay here."
"Just give me a minute," Andy said as he looked around at the dense forest. He had to think fast about a situation he was unprepared to consider, and he was doubly angry because he always, always planned ahead. David had said his GPS would lead them perfectly and Andy had seen it work before. Today, about 15 miles toward their 20 mile goal, the GPS battery died.
"It was charged yesterday morning," David said and shook it. "I don't know what happened."
"Yeah, all right, all right," Andy waved him off and again looked away from the group, hoping to think better without seeing their desperate, accusing faces. After a minute, Andy turned back to the group and spoke slowly, "Here's what we'll do. This path splits three ways. We don't know which leads to the van. So," he took a deep breath, "we'll split into three groups."
"What?" Eugene said, "That's super dangerous... should never separate with it getting dark and all."
"I know," Andy said. He saw that the others instantly agreed with Eugene. "But I don't mean splitting up for good. We go two by two, one person in each group with a watch. We go for an hour and a half, carefully noticing our way. After an hour and a half each group turns around and comes back to this point. One of our groups should reach the van and be able, then, to return to meet the rest here."
Everyone was quiet for a few moments, letting the idea sink in. "I'm willing to try it," Eugene said, "but, as dangerous as it is, I think we'd better go for two hours to be certain."
Andy took in a quick breath. The others looked at him, waiting. At that moment he was also trying to decide if he would resign as youth pastor so he'd never again get others into such a spot. He nodded his head. "You're right. Eugene, you and Jonathan take this trail. Hutch and Will that trail. David and I will go this way. Check your watch. It's 4:47. Two hours and then come back here. Each group of two stays together, okay? And on the trail. Don't get off the trail for anything. Let's pray before we split."
Andy prayed for guidance, protection, and strength. The four high school boys and their two leaders had already spent a hard day's hike after a pitiful night's sleep on a rocky outcropping. During the night Will was certain he'd heard a mountain lion. Now, if the weather didn't change, they had a good chance of reaching David's parents awaiting them in the church van at the next trailhead.
A couple times, as he and David walked, Andy reassured David that the problem with the GPS wasn't his fault. Andy knew, and suffered by knowing, it was his own fault for trusting the gadget. Andy should've studied the trail's map instead of assuming they'd just be led grid by grid on a little screen with a red line. He prayed nearly every step and was careful to do as he instructed the others: He noted each turn of the trail and looked backward to see how it would appear when they returned. It would be dark by then and their tiny camping flashlights illumined only a small circle in front of them.
All three groups of fellows must have walked back faster than they walked apart. Andy and David returned first -- 10 minutes before their full four hours. Will and Hutch arrived within two minutes. A couple minutes later they heard a lot of talking, and then saw flashlights. The four of them dashed up the trail to meet Eugene leading Jonathan and David's father. David's father had brought extra flashlights. They all laughed in relief and the four took off their packs to rest.
When they hiked out of the forest at the trailhead, it was pitch dark. David's mother hugged each of them. Andy apologized to everyone repeatedly. They assured him it wasn't his fault. He, however, insisted, "I will never, never, alone or with others, with or without a GPS, go on a hike without having something written, paper, a map, right here in my hand." Everyone agreed with him gladly.
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.
Jesus Was an Alien!
by C. David McKirachan
Matthew 17:1-9
I went to seminary in Berkeley, California. The town is affectionately known as Bezerk-ley. Taking that into account you'd expect lots of crazy stuff to come up. I did. I looked forward to it. I instigated some of it. So, one day we were dealing with the Transfiguration and one of my fellow students, with the excitement of a true believer, began the class that he had found conclusive proof in this passage for Jesus being an alien. It had to do with the cloud and the brilliance with which Jesus shown. The word in Greek had more to do with dazzling reflection from metal than with bright cloth. They saw a space ship, and Jesus went up there to meet the pilots, Moses and Elijah.
Poo poo it we may, from our high positions of theologically esoteric heights or geographical prejudice, but the space ship scenario makes more sense according to our materialistic understanding of everything than some spiritual visitation of prophets to the man Jesus as he prepared to journey into the mouth of the beast. This is nuts. It's almost as nuts as angels appearing to unwed mothers and shepherds, let alone Iranian NSA agents. But that's another story. This is okay for biblical epics, but really, how can self-respecting highly educated, thinking human beings buy this stuff?
The judgment here is on our buying into the barren mythology of our culture. The logic of the story is firm. Jesus revealed himself to be at home with giants of the faith, people whose relationship with God was as intimate as any had ever been. They were people who served the Lord and struggled with doubt and trouble and loneliness. And they came to this one who was facing a task that had never been demanded of any of God's children. It also places Jesus teaching about the kingdom of God in another light, a dazzling light, if you will. Jesus may have been a man, but he came from someplace west of California, and I don't mean Hawaii. In this passage we see Jesus at home with souls that he knew.
Now I don't even pretend to understand what the above means. But maybe that's the point. Maybe this intersection is there to remind us that there are things going on here that are beyond our understanding, and that's not a bad thing. Maybe this reminds us not to sell this Jesus guy short. But in spite of all the dazzling and clouding and special effect action, Jesus brought these guys, his three disciples up there to be with him. Maybe we are also to remember that we, limited, fearful beings are just as important to him as Moses and Elijah. Maybe this Earth is just as important to God as Heaven. Maybe we're so good at forgetting that that we need to be dazzled once in a while. And we need to be invited to come down off the cloudy mountains of revelation to another, smaller hill with three crosses on it.
Now you want to hear a crazy story? Meet me at the other end of Lent.
Twitter this!
by C. David McKirachan
Psalm 2
The recent unrest in the Arab world is challenging the autocratic vice grip on millions of people who have lived with its pressure and restriction for decades, some would say centuries. Autocrats have no esteem for change. As Joe Klein said in Time magazine, "They [autocrats] have an unrealistic view of their own indispensability." The media revolution of recent years has changed the rules that have worked so well for so long. Suddenly people who protest cannot be separated from the herd and suddenly disappear in the night. They cannot be intimidated because they out number the intimidators. And they know a watching world is aware of them at every turn. Yet the rulers of this present age seem to think that in spite of all the changes, the old rules will work. They are surprised, defensive, aghast that these upstarts would dare to demand something as outrageous as rights, a say in what happens, freedom.
At the core of much of this unrest is not a technology of weapons or terror, but the ability to communicate with others, even millions at the touch of a key or a screen. Most of the time put to trivial use, listing condiments as often as hopes and fears. But in this case the social media have become pathways toward connections between people never dreamed of by the generations that lived under the thumbs of rulers with less imagination than the willingness to insist that the past be the only reality available.
We see ourselves as beyond all this. We are people with a history of liberty and justice for all. Yet as the Psalmist contemplated the patterns of political power broking of his day and lifted up the transcendent power of the living God and the useless posturing of the wielders of earthly power, he saw the distance between their sense of authority and the truth of their vulnerability.
If we as the people of God are to be anything but silly in a false security because of our slogans and our flags, if we are to have something other than an unrealistic view of our own indispensability, then we need be humble and willing to make room for the new among us, however strange it might seem. We must learn to honor each other as the autocrats obviously refuse to. For that is God's will. All else will fall.
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).
*****************************************
StoryShare, March 6, 2011, 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.
