American Idol(atry): How Paul's Words to the Corinthians Speaks to American Culture

American Idol is not only a talent competition, it is also a helpful analogy for Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians.

Recently I have been watching too much television. My theory as to why I am doing this stems from the lack of sunlight during the winter months tricking me into seeking the artificial glow of devices big and small when the sun sets way too early for my liking. After running out of my favorite shows and without the life support that is the steady stream of college football, I turned to watching an episode of American Idol.

In its 14th season Idol has become a staple of Fox's primetime programming. I watched a lot of one of the early seasons when Ruben Studdard (a fellow native of the 205) won the competition, at least partially because of my friends and I dialing up the voting line. While I do not dislike the show, after watching the Voice, I am "over" American Idol. Still nothing else was on, so I watched an episode.

What I discovered perhaps more than anything else is that we have a serious "idol complex" (haha) in America. Sure, talented people audition for the show. Of course, people's back stories are awe-inspiring, if a little predictable. Yes, Ryan Seacrest's hair still looks great. However, the main point I took away focused upon the number of people going on the show to audition who were more excited to meet the talented hosts of the show than to potentially fulfill a dream of their own.

When I was a child I remember seeing a video on MTV that showed people actually fainting when they saw Michael Jackson at a concert. I did not and do not understand this, as much as I love his music, I cannot comprehend this response. Now, with the superfluous number of celebrities running around I would hypothesize that people would be less inclined to show this type of excitement when seeing a star; however, the opposite appears to be true. With the advent of social media and people's desire to show photographic or video evidence that they met someone our celebrity worshipping culture has created this societal urge to produce more and more talent to worship. Our idol worshipping might be at an all time high.

Now we all have idols that attract us like a moth to a flame (mine focuses primarily upon getting the latest gadgets), but what can a responsible Christian do in the face of American Idolatry? Our New Testament reading for this coming Sunday (a portion of Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians) focuses upon what a community of believers does when they observe people falling prey to following idols. The wisdom of Paul's words echoes into today's culture where our own churches face as many distracting idols as any other age in the history of Christianity.

Paul quotes from another source, perhaps from the Corinthians themselves, writing "No idol in the world really exists," for he believed "there is no God but one." He goes on to elaborate that even though none of these idols existed some members still got distracted by them. Even those who were previously idol-obsessed may have known that idols were not really God, but the practices that went along with worshipping idols led them down a dangerous path. We may think this is silly, but the food sacrificed to idols happened in a ritual that also involved concubines, shiny objects, and overindulgence of alcohol. A modern analogy would be a person in recovery who previously got drunk or high watching football games with friends going back to those same buddies to watch football. Maybe the football is not bad, but what about the other surrounding activities? Could this person avoid the temptation.

For the record, I have no problem with American Idol. I might like the Voice better, but my hold up comes when any activity (even keeping up with the latest technology) distracts us and even puts a stumbling block on the pathway to a closer relationship with God. Paul tells us that if we are committing some action that causes another member of our Christian community to stumble on this journey, then we must address this issue. We may even have to give up something we love, or at least not do it when it deters others from deepening their relationship with God. Good thing Lent is right around the corner, when we can root out those secret idols by taking on some new discipline. Until then, what idol is present in your community of faith that keeps on tripping people?

Respect My Authority!

Eric Cartman from South Park impersonating a police officer

What is wrong with this picture? I am starting off this post about this coming Sunday's gospel lesson with a picture of Eric Cartman dressed as a police officer from the Comedy Central TV show South Park. Why, oh why, would I do something like this? 

Early on in Mark's Gospel account Jesus calls Simon, Andrew, James, and John (we actually heard that story last Sunday), inviting them to follow him. Right after this Jesus begins teaching at the synagogue, which was probably not a building so much as a gathering of religious people. From Mark's telling of the story the religious authority of the day, the scribes, were not too impressive. They were without power. Jesus, on the other hand, commanded respect. Not only did he teach with might, he also healed with convincing results.

During the middle of Jesus' instruction a man with an unclean spirit stumbles upon the religious gathering. This distracting figure even calls out Jesus saying, "What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God." I will save speculating on what the meaning of the unclean spirit is for another day, but regardless this would have been a critical and potentially deflating moment for Jesus' message and ministry. If he does not respond to the man with the unclean spirit, then all of his teaching with authority will be deflated like a pin popping the balloon that is Jesus' ministry. Yet, Jesus responds by rebuking the spirit saying, "Be silent and come out of him!" The man convulses, the spirit screams, and healing happens. So what does any of this have to do with Cartman?

In the episode in which Eric Cartman impersonates a police officer, the school boy usurps a sense of power behind the make believe badge. He uses one of his most readily available skills, that is being a bully, to coerce others into doing what he wants them to do. While it is funny to hear him say, "RESPECT MY AUTHORITAY!" This is not a commanding moment so much as it is a desperate demand. For no one in a position of power actually gave Cartman the right to police others, his farcical actions bring to the surface a legitimate question about power and authority: Is power something that is given to us or is it something that is earned?

Specifically this question makes me think of politicians, military officers, and police personnel, but also CEOs, other business executives, and even ministers. Do those in positions of power hide behind the authority vested in them or is it possible to earn a sense of respect from others without any favorable position? To me the person of Jesus, who came from a humble background, never asked to receive others' respect. His behavior, his words, and his actions all fell in line with one another, and they all commanded devotion from almost everyone he met. Cartman, and many of us who fear that we truthfully do not have power on our own, must say something like, "RESPECT MY AUTHORITY!"

Of course, we may not always notice when someone is worthy of respect, worthy of honor, and worthy of praise. We are all capable of mistakenly overlooking the power vested in others being who they were meant to be; however, the person of Jesus leaves little doubt in my mind that we respect his authority. In Mark's Gospel God says to Jesus, "This is my Son, the beloved. With him I am well pleased." The author of this text did not make clear if anyone else other than Jesus heard these words. Certainly if they had they would respected him. Yet, Jesus' life seems to fulfill the words from on high. Through calling followers and revealing to the synagogue not only power-filled teaching, but also authoritative healing Jesus never had to say "RESPECT MY AUTHORITAY!" His entire life and ministry said it (and still says it) for him!  

Bearing Fruit Means Tending to Soil

Mrs. Albritton was my second grade teacher. In her classroom stood, what seemed to me, a giant “apple tree.” Of course, on that tree no real apples hung, but instead red, laminated, cardboard paper apples dangled from brown yarn. Whenever Mrs. Albritton saw one of her students do something kind, studious, or otherwise noteworthy she would give out an apple. If a student received three apples she or he could pick out a small prize, if a student received four apples a slightly larger prize, and if a student was so bold as to receive five apples the really big prizes came out.

One particular afternoon I was on the verge of history in Mrs. Albritton’s class. I cannot recall the exact circumstances, but suffice it to say I had been “on fire,” achieving five apples already before heading to recess. Now on the way back to the classroom from some time on the playground I managed to do some deed of kindness that merited Mrs. Albritton giving me an unprecedented sixth apple. Some people in my class gave me a snide glare, but for the most part my classmates gave me high fives. Mrs. Albritton almost did not know what she had done handing out that illusive sixth apple.

While I cannot recall exactly what I did to achieve all those apples and I could not tell you what sort of prize a student gets when managing to pick all those cardboard trophies from the tree, I do know that even way back then I was obsessed with achieving fruit. Not actual fruit, although I love blueberries, strawberries, and the occasional apple, but rather, I have always been one to seek with verve and vigor results that all can see. But what happens when I do not produce the fruit? What if a bird swoops in to steal away the seeds, what if the sun scorches my attempts, or what if I get caught up in the weeds? I mean can I really help the soil in which I am planted?

So often I misinterpret this parable from Jesus. I mistakenly believe that we are the seeds being planted. I have even got into fights with friends defending those “planted in the rougher soil.” Yet the more I hear this enigmatic tale of God’s gardening, the more I realize that I am not the seed. I am the one receiving the seed.

During my time at seminary we began a community garden initiative, much like what has happened here at St. John’s. All students were given a composting box within which they could put certain biodegradable material and later take it to our communal composting pile. This process always fascinated me. I did not like to do it because it reeked something awful, but going and seeing the various piles at different stages of being turned into topsoil amazed me. One pile not very far along still possessed visible chunks of pasta, banana peels, and avocado skins. The next heap, broken down by natural degradation carried a brownish hue. Finally the almost “ready” compost sat with a rich blackness about it. In the colder months the piles would steam from the chemical breakdown that occurred.

Perhaps we might see Jesus’ parable of the sower and the soil through the lens of community gardeners who anxiously await the day when the soil will be ready. At times in our lives the Sower (Our God) might be sharing the seed with us only to have us too busy or too consumed with our day to day tasks to understand His Word. Other times something evil crops up in our lives and even if the soil appears ready we are distracted by a sin that takes us from God.

The soil of our hearts needs time to break down, to become ready so that we can faithfully receive the seed of God’s word. Even if we are obsessed with bearing fruit, like a second grader seeking affirmation through cardboard apples, the environment of our souls might not be in the right season for planting seeds. The good news is that our faithful sower will continue to spread shower His Word upon our lives. God will perpetually scatter his seeds. Let us tend to our soil, so that we might receive God and allow God’s word to grow in us bearing fruit thirty, sixty, and a hundred fold.

Gum In Your Hair? Peanut Butter On Your Head? Come and See!

Audio for this sermon can be found here: http://s3.amazonaws.com/dfc_attachments/public/documents/3202327/011815_Olson_2Epiphany_MP3.MP3

One of my favorite television shows is a sitcom called “The Office.” Strangely enough the show is about an office. Well, actually at the end of the nine season series the viewer discovers this “mockumentary” about the business of a small paper company actually focused upon the workers and not the corporate side. I watch “The Office” so much that I can quote most episodes or at least tell you what is about to happen.

At the start of one of the shows the petulant boss, Michael, who seems to grow more childish by the season walks into the office with gum caught in his hair. He claims that he saw something shiny underneath an employee’s car, so he stooped down to pick it up, and in the process Michael got something sticky stuck in his locks. One of the other office workers asks, “So at best you were going to get a quarter, but instead you have gum stuck in your hair?” In an attempt to calm down their moody boss a few of the employees rush to get peanut butter, an old home remedy for removing gum. The scene ends with Michael’s head covered in peanut butter, as one of his yes men massages his scalp. Michael admits it was just a gum wrapper’s gleam that caught his eye.

How do you tell a quarter from a gum wrapper? Is it worth it to get gum in your hair for potential treasure? Or, are you too afraid to wind up with a peanut buttery mess on your head to mistakenly go in search of something?

“Come and see.”

One day Jesus decided that he would go to a place called Galilee. Galilee in those days felt restless, a place just outside the firm grip of the Roman occupiers. Without adequate ways for people on the fringes of society to receive help Galilee overflowed with those seeking healing and new life.


For Jesus to decide to go here meant that he wanted not just to be known as a teacher, but to begin his transformational ministry. In this place teeming with potential Jesus called Philip saying, “Follow me.” Without hesitation the man from Bethsaida joined Jesus.

Like anyone joining a new ministry, Philip felt a lightning bolt of new energy surge through him. With this new spirit Philip told his friend Nathaniel about Jesus, “We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.” Yet, Nathaniel having a less sunny disposition was not so ready to buy into his friend’s excitement. It was as though Nathaniel had gotten gum stuck in his hair many times and did not like the smell of peanut butter on his head. So initially, Nathaniel rebuffs Philip’s hope-infused message responding, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”

Chronic optimists, like myself, do not have an easy time hearing these words from the pragmatic friend of Philip, but what an appropriate question for Nathaniel to ask. Can ANYTHING good come out of Nazareth? The prophets did not mention the Son of God coming from there. Moses did not say to his people make sure to keep an eye out in that part of Israel. There is little indication that Nazareth will be the place from which salvation comes. I can call Nathaniel a pessimist because he is not around to defend himself, but he brings to mind a realistic, if somewhat cynical, point: If we know that a place does not have potential or is bad (in our eyes) can something good come from there?

Maybe you have never thought, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” (except after reading this passage). Yet, I bet you have thought about other places in this way: Can anything good come from my stubborn neighbor? Can anything good come from that side of Decatur? Can anything good come from Auburn (or Tuscaloosa)? Can anything good come from Montgomery or Washington D.C.? Can anything good come from France? Can anything good come from the Muslim world?
We know the stories and we have made up our minds, so that is that and I am not getting gum stuck in my hair even if there potential treasure. I have been burned before or someone I love has gotten hurt or worse because of this person or that group. We may end up wondering, “Can anything good come from anywhere in this broken down world?”

“Come and see,” Philip says.

The spark that Jesus’ invitation (“Follow me”) lit within Philip’s heart burned brightly so that even the cynical, potentially squelching question from Nathaniel did little to diminish Philip’s flame. “Come and see,” Philip responds. Nathaniel, as skeptical as he may be, still makes the journey to go and see Jesus. We may have made up our minds already about everything under the sun. We may believe that we know others’ intentions, their hearts, and their minds better than they themselves know. We might even be right, but what Nathaniel does by following Philip to Jesus is precisely what we must do with all of our preconceived notions, all our prejudices, and all our fears. We must come and see.

When Nathaniel meets Jesus we discover along with the skeptic that the Messiah knows more about this man than Nathaniel thinks. This little bit of precognition shifts Nathaniel’s view enough to call Jesus “Rabbi,” “Son of God,” and “King of Israel.” Clearly by coming to Jesus and seeing what the Messiah knows shifts Nathaniel’s life. Yet, Nathaniel and we will see much greater signs than Christ simply seeing us and calling us. Jesus the Messiah opens up heaven and is the way God.

Christ has so much in store for each and every one of our lives. Yet, we may let preconceptions, prejudices, and fears paralyze us. The memory of gum stuck in our hair and the smell of the peanut butter on our head might keep us from checking under a car to find a quarter. A scar on our hearts might keep us from seeking new treasure. “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” The real question is, “Can anything good come from us?”

Jesus echoes Philip’s words to us, “Come and see!” Let go of what you think will happen. Let go of what has happened. Come to Jesus and he will show you greater things than where you are now. Christ will do more than tell you from where you came. He will show us all that he is the connection that brings heaven to earth and earth to heaven! Come and see!

Worth and Love and Baptism

Sermon audio for this sermon can be found here: http://s3.amazonaws.com/dfc_attachments/public/documents/3201897/011115_Evening_Euch_1Epiph_Baptism_of_our_Lord_JC.MP3

How do you break bad news to someone? Do you just blurt it out like ripping off a Band-Aid? Is it better to gently let them know something is amiss? What is the best tactic for breaking bad news?

I ask because I have bad news for you this evening. You are not worthy. Just like me and everyone else in the world, you are not worthy. You are not worthy to stoop down and do the most disgusting thing in the world for our Lord Jesus, untying his dirty old sandal. John the Baptist knew this and confessed as much. Yet, most of the time I go around telling myself otherwise, that I am good and smart and talented, I am just like John and so are you.

Maybe this makes you upset. Perhaps this news comes at a bad time. And while, I usually do not relish giving out bad news; this type of bad news might actually not be so bad. I know what you are thinking, “I AM UNWORTHY? AND THIS IS SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME FEEL GOOD?” No, but stick with me because there is more to it than just smelly shoes and feeling less than capable.

Being unworthy is not how God makes us. He makes us good calling all of Creation very good way back at the beginning. Yet, we spend our lives making decisions individually and corporately, purposefully and unconsciously, things done and left undone that expose the separation that exists between us and God.

Way back when John the Baptizer was out in the wilderness crying, people came from all over to turn from those things that separated them from God and each other, so that they might turn back towards a life with God. While John was out in the River Jordan he caught a glimpse of an ultimate truth with which we humans often struggle. The way in which this struggle manifests itself in my life is not something of which I am particularly proud. I am powerless when it comes to letting go of controlling everything in my life. This may come as a surprise because I come off as a laid back individual, but inside my head exists a voice that wants everything to run on my schedule and when it does not I have a hard time not throwing a fit. Growing up when I would throw these tantrums my family referred to this as my “K-Mart Brat” moments. This voice has many names: false self, ego, the devil, Satan, etc. So when John discovers this truth that there is a God and he is not God the Baptizer has a chance to let go of his own sense of controlling all the things around him.

There is a God and none of us are that God. This might be a kinder way of telling you that initial bad news of the evening. Maybe that’s where I should have started. When we come to accept that we are not God something shifts in us. In today’s gospel story John the Baptist’s position changes from being unable to untie a shoe to baptizing the incarnate God. Thomas Keating expresses this Truth in another way, “The movement towards divine love is growth in humility which is the acceptance of the reality about ourselves, our own weakness and limitations.” When we trust in ourselves and believe ourselves to be God we are unworthy, yet something changes when we come to God as humble servants.

“A voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’” John Baptized with water, and the Church does too, but God uses the Holy Spirit. This baptism of the Holy Spirit does something to us. When we come to God seeking to become his children this Holy Spirit changes us from being unworthy to being beloved. The words that God spoke that day he spoke to Jesus, but God also speaks those words to us. In humility we become real, when we recognize we are not God we then have the opportunity to become who God made us to be that is good and faithful servants.

There is a prayer for peace from our Morning Prayer service that begins, “O God, the author of peace and lover of concord, to know you is eternal life and to serve you is perfect freedom.” I did not understand that prayer for the longest time. How can serving lead to freedom? Yet, John’s witness helps me to understand what Jesus bids us to do. We are not worthy, none of us, but this is actually good news. For in our sin and separation we realize the Truth that we need God to transform us. A life dedicated to God allows us to no longer be consumed with controlling our lives, but instead the perfect freedom of serving God. God transforms us from unworthy to purposeful through a baptism of the Holy Spirit, and we hear God’s voice like Jesus coming up from the baptismal waters, “You are my beloved with you I am well pleased.” Maybe being unworthy is good news after all.

EUREKA

Audio of sermon can be found here: http://s3.amazonaws.com/dfc_attachments/public/documents/3201704/Olson_010715_Wed_Noon_Eureka.MP3

Have you ever had a “eureka moment”? You know what I am talking about, right? When something clicks into place for the first time. A time when something becomes clear that was not so clear just a moment ago. Where does it come from?

I got curious about the word itself. Eureka has become an English word, but originally it meant something a little different in the Greek. “I found it,” that’s what eureka means, and the great mathematician Archimedes gets credit for first saying it. Of course, the moment when he said it is more fascinating to me. Archimedes stepped into a bath tub when he realized that the water level rose as his body’s mass sunk beneath the surface, thus he discovered the law of water displacement. Only a mathematician would shout out loud, “I FOUND IT! EUREKA!” when discovering a law in the bathtub.

Have you ever had a eureka moment? A moment when something becomes apparent for the first time. Maybe it was when you first fell in love with your spouse. Perhaps it was that time when you first fell out of love with someone. A eureka moment could be when you happened upon your life’s great passion, or when you came to connect with God in a deeper way.

Yesterday in the Church we remembered a collective eureka moment, the day of Epiphany. Epiphany is another old word that means revelation or manifestation, and it is the time when we celebrate the Incarnate God in the person of Jesus being revealed as messiah to a people outside of his own tradition. This is our collective eureka moment. We most closely connect the Epiphany with the story of the Magi, three wise men from the East following a star, so that they could bestow gifts upon a child savior, but strangely enough today’s story is another Epiphany moment, another eureka!

A professor in seminary once wondered aloud about today’s gospel lesson. She said, “What does it say about John’s gospel account that the first of Jesus’ miracles that he writes down is turning water into wine at a wedding feast in Cana?” “Is he a drunk?” I thought. “Does John just really love wine? Maybe he’s a big proponent of preparing for wedding feasts?” Of course, what my professor was going for is that Our God is abundant and loves to celebrate with us. Hold onto those two revelations from this story for a moment because we need to explore what happens between Jesus and his mother to fully observe this epiphany.

The way that John records this story strikes me as peculiar, at least upon first reading. “There was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there.” John needs for us to know that Mary is there. Then he tells us that Jesus and his disciples were there. “When the wine gave out,” the story continues with a twist in the plot introducing us to some drama, Mary says, “They have no wine.” At this moment I am struck that Mary takes on someone else’s problem. This is not her son’s wedding. She could have left this problem alone, but instead she turns to Jesus.

Now, I am not opposed to taking our problems to Jesus, but I do not think that is the eureka moment. This is not what we are seeking to find. Jesus responds to his mother almost coldly, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” If I talked to my dearest darling mother in this way, I would get at least a death stare if not worse. Yet, what Jesus does here is fascinating. He does not urgently panic about what to do, nor does he immediately coddle his mother or the stewards or the bride and groom. His mother also does not get defensive about how Jesus speaks to her, instead she simply says, “Do whatever he tells you.”

Mary has faith in her son that he will do the will of God. Jesus though is not a magic eraser, he’s not Mr. Fix-it, nor is he some magician who waves a wand over the problems of the world. That is not why God became incarnate.

Jesus was a Jewish man, but for him to ask the servants to fill the jars of purification with water was a big no-no. In this moment he reveals a true miracle: Yes, it is turning water into wine! Yes, it is producing enough wine to open up a Galilean winery! Yes, it is helping the celebration of two people coming together in marriage to continue late into the night! Yet, it is even more than this. Jesus transforms the rite of purification into a moment of celebration. Jesus initiates his ministry with this first miracle not to solve a problem that is not really a problem, but to show that He is God and our God is a God of plenty and festivity.

This is the eureka moment! We have found God and Our God is not just here for purification, but for celebration. Our God is not just here for fixing problems, but for responding to even our small concerns with great richness. And our response to this Epiphany should be following mother Mary’s words, “Do whatever he tells you.” In this time of year when we recognize God’s manifestation as Savior of all people let us observe God’s abundance, celebration, and presence all around us and even within us.

Mary, Spiderman, and Jesus... And the Wise Men!

Audio from the Epiphany Burning of the Greens Service: http://s3.amazonaws.com/dfc_attachments/public/documents/3201672/SJ_Epiphany_Eve_2015_Olson.MP3