The Answers Are Getting Harder: Shamelessness in Prayer

Album art from Blues Traveler's fourth album Four.

The first CD I ever purchased on my own was the 1994 Blues Traveler record Four. I loved that album, and still listen to it regularly. While the singles “Hook” and “Runaround” garnered much of the attention, I devoured (and nearly memorized) all the tracks of the hour long recording. As I have been preparing for preaching this week, I found myself mysteriously singing the second song from Four, a track entitled “Stand” (You are going to want to listen to it before continuing... do so here).

For the first two verses and refrains of the song, the lead singer John Popper makes a series of declarative statements, which lead to the theme that sometimes in life it’s a long way to fall. These statements are almost universal beliefs that we as humans hold subconsciously—beliefs like talk and tragedy are cheap, wounds heal in time, and decisions we make come back to us in one way or another. Right before the two-minute mark of the song though something shifts. Popper begins an intense harmonica rift that gives way to a calmer and more transcendent sounding harmony from the rest of the band. It’s at this point in the song when I realize why my subconscious spit out this tune during this particular week.

As the harmonized vocals return, the band sings, “The answers are getting harder.” This feels like the most accurate depiction of our current state of complicated existence in this polarized world of have’s and have not’s. Sure this song is turning 25 years-old this September, but the words that John Popper wrote for Blues Traveler’s fourth album remain as true as they were in the mid-1990’s. The answers are getting harder. And, the band repeats this statement three times before adding another belief in the background, “If an answer comes to those who pray.” What could this possibly mean?

Taken together these statements read, “The answers are getting harder if an answer comes to those who pray.” To me this means that even in our practice of conversing with God as we grow the answers become more complicated. Perhaps this is a belief that Popper discovered as he matured in his life as a musician and a man. The real power and a true connection to this Sunday’s Gospel lesson from Luke 11 comes in what happens next in the song.

At the 3:45 mark the tempo increases and Popper sings:
“The answers are getting harder and harder
And there ain’t no way to bargain or to barter
But if you’ve got the angst or you got the ardor
You might faint from the fight but you’re gonna find it
For every challenge could have paradise behind it
And if you accept what you have lost and you stand tall
You might just get it back and you can get it all
So now you know why it’s a long way to fall
Yeah cause it’s a long way to fall.”

While it’s not explicit if Blues Traveler is referring to the act of praying and receiving answers, the implication is clear: persistence in prayer and in life will carry you through challenge, loss, and even falls. Taken in concert with this Sunday’s Gospel lesson this song pushes my own understanding of Jesus’ response to how one ought to pray.

In Luke 11:1-13 Jesus uttered the familiar words of the Lord’s Prayer, but he also offered up a teaching about our posture during prayer. No, I’m not talking about standing or kneeling, I am referring to the vigor and persistence with which we pray. In Luke 11:6-8 we hear Jesus describe a persevering neighbor knocking on his friend’s door in the middle of the night. The man inside does not want to give this pesky neighbor any bread for he’s already in bed with his kids asleep. Still he does get up and give into the request because of the friend’s persistent knocking—not because of their preexisting relationship. Some take this to mean that we are to persevere in our prayer and life—and I agree—however, there’s more here, and it relates to what Popper sang about in “Stand.”

A more honest translation of the word we quote as “persistence” in Luke 11:8 is actually “shamelessness” or “importunity” or “un-modesty.” The knocking neighbor has no shame in asking, which is a very different thing than being persistent. In truth this unlocks a completely different way of viewing God. God’s not waiting on us to be persistent in our prayer life before God grants our requests. Rather, we are to have no shame in asking boldly for what we want, laying our entire lives for God to view, and pushing onward for our will, as we allow it to fall in line with God’s own will.

This shamelessness insight dovetails nicely into what Popper sang. As the answers to our prayers and in our world become harder and harder, there’s no way to bargain or to barter with God for a reply. Instead as we express our anxiety and passion to God we are to without modesty share our entire existence with Him/Her/Them. As we bear our entire souls to God we might faint from the fight (see: Jacob wrestling with God in Genesis 32), but as we persevere we discover heaven on earth right within/beyond our challenges. Accepting the losses of life, instead of denying their existence, allows us to stand within our truest selves and like Job we get back not what we had but something even greater. So, while we pray that God lead us not into temptation, the truth is that God guiding us through the evils of this life leads us into a promised land. This paradise is so fathomless that it exceeds our imagination. Even now as we pray shamelessly to God, nakedly laying out our entire selves open to the one who knows us entirely, we dwell in the intersection of heaven and earth with the one who creates, feeds, forgives, sustains, and loves us completely.

So, when you pray stand tall as you boldly lay bare your whole self to God. It is not about the words you utter, but the posture of shamelessness you invoke. For God will never shame you (see: Old Testament lesson from Sunday Genesis 18:20-32)—so ask emphatically for what you want. And while God may not answer precisely how you desire, know that beyond and even within the challenges of life God is bringing heaven to earth, as God’s will is always done. Stand, stand and walk with God.

The Christ Abides

Hearing Jesus say the word "abide" brings my mind to The Big Lebowski

This coming Sunday’s Gospel lesson has a déjà vu quality about it. We’re nearing (thankfully) the end of the Bread of Life Discourse in John’s account of the Good News of Christ Jesus, but this being the fourth consecutive week about Jesus and bread gives this week’s portion a repetitive, redundant quality. I find myself asking questions to see the spiritual meat in this story about bread. What do we need to hear in these words about the life of Jesus of Nazareth that impact us today? Why is this passage found in our Holy Scriptures? Maybe a helpful way of answering these questions stems from looking for what stands out in this passage.

One word caught the ear of my heart in today’s reading of the text. That word? Abide.

“Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them” (John 6:56 italics added). If Jesus spoke on a metaphorical level when he talked about eating him, then we safely assert that Jesus did not mean that we literally live inside of him, nor does he live inside of us. This is not the plot of Alien 3 unfolding. Of course, that word abide conjures up another cult classic movie.

The Big Lebowski focuses upon the increasingly extraordinary events unfolding in the life of Jeffrey “the Dude” Lebowski. By no stretch of the imagination are the Dude’s actions virtuous—save for his penchant for justice regarding a rug and trying to help out a lady friend now and again. Regardless, the great Sam Elliott who played “the Stranger” ends the film by breaking the fourth wall, turning to the camera, and saying: “The Dude abides. I don't know about you but I take comfort in that. It's good knowin' he's out there. The Dude. Takin' 'er easy for all us sinners.” Were that line not said in the deep, unmistakable voice of Sam Elliott I probably would not remember the dude abiding and taking her easy for all us sinners, but I do. And, while the Dude’s character runs crosswise of who Christ was and is, still a connection persists in my mind.

Christ does abide—not literally inside of us—but, in a way that is more real than anything else. Christ Jesus continues within us. In our hearts, our minds, our souls, and our collective being Jesus the Christ lives. We mystically connect with the one who lives on for us all sinners. We do this when we participate in Holy Communion. There we discover Christ dwelling in us both more clearly and more opaquely than at other times. As we put back together the Body of Christ, re-membering Jesus as we gather together as Christ’s Body here and now, we come in contact with the Truth that exists always: we are made in God’s image, house Christ within us, and are filled with God’s Spirit. What happens in Communion is always happening.

This truth so often evade our conscious knowing—like sand slipping between our fingertips. So, we must rely upon a deeper knowing to experience the reality of God dwelling within us. This week, slow down. Give yourself permission—even in the busy-ness of a new academic year—to stop. Maybe this means you will have to wake up early, sneak off during a lunch break, or stay up a little later to find some moments of quiet away from screens and other distractions. Whenever it is, allow yourself time to be still and become aware of the presence of Christ that abides in you. There’s nothing that you have to do to achieve this presence. That Divine light always shines in us all. Once you realize this truth stay there for a few moments. Like sitting together with an old friend who is completely fine talking and just as fine with silence be present with God. These moments of abiding with God are profound enough; however, once you make this realization allow this truth to pervade not only quiet moments, but your entire life. Christ dwells in you and we can dwell in him as we bring this truth to bear at all times and in all places.

Christ abides infinitely, I don't know about you but I take comfort in that. It's good knowing that Christ is out there and in here too, Christ abiding within all us sinners.

More Than Just Dazzling Clothes

Was Jesus' Transfiguration just an ancient Tide ad, like this one? (http://bit.ly/2ElkWyE)

Last Sunday evening, as our youth gathered around a television screen to watch Super Bowl XLII—enjoying food and fellowship in the process—I could not help but chuckle a few times. We were playing advertisement bingo, so the room grew a bit quieter during the commercial breaks when we all tried to figure out if the next spot would bring us closer to yelling those marvelous words, “That’s a BINGO!” Some people claimed that this year’s lot of ads lacked luster, but at least a few drew rave reviews from our youth. One of our favorites I dare say was the Tide detergent commercial.

The advertisement in question begins with a somewhat familiar actor—David Harbour from the Netflix series Stranger Things. Harbour steps from one type of endorsement to another: “Just your typical Super Bowl Car ad, right?” “Or a hilarious beer ad,” Or a fragrance ad. But nope, we soon find out it’s a Tide ad. The other actors do not seem to comprehend that they are in a commercial about laundry detergent. They wonder, “What makes it a Tide ad?” The main character replies, “There’s no stains. Look at those clean clothes. What else would this be an ad for?” The humor heightens as Harbour debunks all the other potential advertisements—for diamonds, or cola, or a workout plan—leaving the audience pondering are all commercials with actors wearing clean clothes actually Tide ads? Mind-blown-emoji!

With this commercial fresh on my mind (pun intended) I found myself turning to our text for this morning. To tell you the truth I had a hard time getting passed Jesus’ dazzling white attire. How did his clothes become so bright? Was it a Tide Ad? No, beyond the bleaching power of that day and the mighty cleaning ability of today’s detergents, Jesus shone brightly before Peter, James, and John up on a high mountain. If we get stuck on the appearance of Jesus—and his special guests Moses and Elijah—we might simply believe this story highlights the mighty stage effects that the Son of Man could so easily conjure up (eat your heart out Super Bowl halftime show performers). And yet, this story of Jesus taking his inner circle of disciples onto a mountaintop gives us much more than a stunning wardrobe and marvelous special effects.

But, what actually happened when Jesus was transfigured? And, why does it matter to us?

How often do you use the words transfigure or transfiguration in your normal conversation? I bet not that often. I know I don’t say when spraying Shout onto my son’s dirty onesie, “Wow! That outfit was transfigured!”

Even the New Testament writers only employed this word four times. Once here in Mark, once in Matthew’s parallel Transfiguration account, and Paul utilized this word a couple of times in his letters (Romans and 2 Corinthians). While the same original word appears in all of these instances, we have been handed different interpretations of what this word means in our modern English.

Jesus was transfigured—as in his appearance changed—up on a mountain top in Mark’s and Matthew’s sharing of the Good News. Paul though used the same word and we hear it as a transformation of one’s mind. So which is it? Is it simply the appearance of someone changing or is it a fuller transformation that is taking place?

Right before Jesus took his disciples up that high mountain, Peter recognized that Jesus was the Messiah. Peter also denied that Jesus would willingly undergo any suffering, which resulted in Jesus calling Peter Satan. And yet, a thread connects these events: Peter recognized Jesus as the Messiah, then Jesus appeared in a manner befitting the Messiah.

So, it’s just about one’s appearance being bright? Are we back to our Tide ad here? Is it only about looking good? Is it simply about showing up in dazzling white attire? No, the Transfiguration calls us not only to see Jesus changing before our very eyes, but also God transforming us!
When Jesus was transfigured before the disciples his appearance changed, but as he came off of that mountain he was not still dazzling bright blinding everyone in his path. So, maybe this moment was about the disciples’ reception and understanding of Jesus changing as much as his appearance being altered? We do not often talk about transfigurations in our own lives, but we do speak frequently about transformation!

We celebrate the Transfiguration every year at the end of the Season after Epiphany and right before the Season of Lent. In a moment when we experience an Epiphany about who Jesus is we are challenged not to get too attached to it. We cannot build booths to hold onto the experience. Instead we are called to allow this moment to transform us. This Transfiguration is not only about Jesus’ appearance, but it is about also our perception of him as the Messiah.

Here we see the transformed, transfigured Jesus in our very midst, and how can we not be changed? This is why we celebrate this occasion every year because we are people who witness the Messiah’s transformational power and we cannot help but be overcome by it! The Transfiguration of Jesus calls us to be transformed too. But, what do we do after it’s all over, after the cloud goes and the words “This is my Son the Beloved, listen to him” fade?

Jesus did not hide away on a mountaintop basking long in the loving words of the Father. Instead, Jesus knew what lay ahead and he came down off that mountain. We too must walk this way with Jesus. Life in Christ calls us to go through peaks and valleys both! Certain moments we recognize quite clearly the bright, shining figure of Christ in our midst. Then, sometimes we can barely make out the obscured outline of Christ seemingly in the distance, but Christ dwells always more intimately to us than we can know or imagine!

We celebrate this moment of dazzling clarity right now because we love happy mountain moments—like hosting Diocesan Convention so very well this weekend, but the Transfiguration changes us such that we cannot stay up here. No, we are called to keep on walking, walking back down to everyday life in Christ, and soon to walk the pilgrim way of Lent. We journey with Jesus on this way to Jerusalem.

In this time between mountain and valley may we keep on focusing upon Christ and keep on walking with him! May we follow Jesus not just when things are bright and beautiful, but also when things appear dark and dreary. When the construction is noisy, when the bathrooms keep moving, when our favorite ministry is on hold; when we have more questions than answers, when we are annoyed with the way the world works, when we are frustrated with the powers that perpetuate the status quo; when we are sick, when we are frail, when we are broken; when we are burnt out, belligerent, or jaded. In those times just like when things are all sunshine and dazzling clothes—yes, like in a Tide ad—may we recognize and celebrate that Christ walks with us.

Christ Jesus walks with us transfiguring and transforming the way we go. As we go down the mountain to Jerusalem to Lent to Holy Week may we celebrate the Transfiguring love of Jesus who changes even the Cross and Death into Resurrection and Life. So, while everything is not a Tide Ad everything is a reminder of the Transfiguration, for everything is about God’s transforming love.

Blessings

What do Presidential motorcades, celebrity sightings, and court-storming fans have to do with Jesus?

This sermon is based on these texts:
Revelation 7:9-17Psalm 34:1-10, 221 John 3:1-3Matthew 5:1-12

I have never personally witnessed a presidential motorcade; however, I have watched enough West Wing and House of Cards to know what happens when the commander-in-chief rolls into one’s city. I have never been present for a massive celebrity sighting; however, I have paid attention enough to the publications in the checkout line at the grocery store to know what happens they venture out into public. I have never attended a game when the underdog pulled such an upset, still I have watched enough sports of TV to know what happens when the clock strikes zero and Goliath has been slain. In each of these cases the response of those surrounding the leader, the star, or the game-winner is the same, namely pandemonium—blocked off streets, people fainting, and fans rushing the ones in the spotlight. So, of course, this was the response when Jesus began his ministry long ago too, right? Hmm…

You may have noticed that we are not where we last left Jesus. It may feel like we have whiplash, as we shift from the culminating moments of Matthew’s Gospel account during Holy Week back to the start when Jesus strolled onto the scene. Before we dive into this almost-too-familiar text that we commonly call the Beatitudes, it would do us some good to explore the build-up that Matthew provides us in the opening chapters of his telling of the Good News.

If this were a movie the narrator would give away a crucial detail about the story even before the opening credits finish rolling. Matthew begins his story by telling us that Jesus is the Messiah. This may not seem weird to us, but imagine being a hearer of this story long ago. On the one hand this seems anticlimactic especially since what follows is a dull genealogy tracing Jesus back to King David. However, on the other hand this crucial detail begins to build up the anticipation around Jesus.

Building upon this proclamation Matthew points out the universal nature of Jesus’ kingly status by describing the journey of the Magi from the East to see the newborn king of the Jews. In the early moments of the tale, the gospel writer also tells of angelic visitors coming to Joseph, the holy family escaping to Egypt, and King Herod viciously murdering the first-born-sons of Bethlehem. If the dreary listing of whom begat who lulled the original audience to sleep these dramatic twists and turns surely would woke them from their slumber. Eventually Joseph brings his family to Nazareth where Jesus grows up. By the time he matures into an adult John the Baptist is venturing out into the wilderness to send the hype surrounding Jesus to atmospheric levels. Soon though it is not only human voices that shine a light on the majesty of Jesus, but God’s own voice also.

God announces at Jesus’ baptism that he is God’s Son, the Beloved, with whom God is well pleased. Instead of dwelling on this proclamation Matthew seizes on this moment to describe Jesus’ flight to the desert and his fight with the Devil there. By the time Jesus calls his first disciple there is so much excitement surrounding him that it puts presidential motorcades, paparazzi, and field-storming fans to shame!

With all this attention, all this build-up, and even the voice of God inaugurating Jesus as God’s beloved Son what might we expect from Jesus’ first public statements? What will be his first teaching? Probably big pyrotechnics through a miracle of some sort, right? Or if not that words that rile up the crowd to get them to change the world. Or, if the crowd got its way some words about overthrowing the occupying Roman forces! Right?! Surely, his words will be about the power that has surrounded the hype of his ministry. Well, none of these things happened. In fact, after the crescendo that built throughout the first four chapters of this Gospel account we may feel like Jesus made his initial public offering through a whimper.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” While this first statement sounds counter-cultural to us, it would have been even more shocking to those who first heard it. Jesus then offers eight other statements about what blessing looks like—not according to the world that props up kings and queens, high priests and governors, gladiators and celebrities, but according to God’s beloved Son.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

So what does Jesus mean by blessed? Someone who was blessed was one who was spoken well of, fortunate, or even happy. In what world are the mournful happy? How are those who are meek fortunate? Are you really telling me Jesus that someone who is persecuted is spoken well of? This is all a little shocking—it is all a little disorienting—but this is the direction of Jesus’ ministry. Think back over the last few weeks’ Gospel lessons.

At the end of this same Gospel account Jesus focuses his teaching energy upon those who were in power—the presidents, the stars, and the celebrities of the day. Jesus challenged them and he challenges us to see things not through the eyes of the world’s elite, but through the eyes of God—who by the way is quite often viewing things from the outsider perspective of the tax collector, prostitute, or poor beggar.

On some level I hope this is not too shocking to us, I mean this is Jesus. Plus, we have heard Matthew’s upside-down telling of the story since last December. And yet, if we are still not hearing Jesus’ words as outlandish, appalling, and counter-cultural, then your clergy are not doing their jobs the right way. Jesus called his followers and still calls us into a way of life that sees blessings where we ought to see tragedy.

God’s way of blessing sees the mournful receiving comfort, the meek inheriting the earth, and the persecuted dwelling in heaven. Today, we remember all those followers of Jesus—the meek, the mournful, the persecuted, and all the rest—who walk along this way past, present, and yet to come. The world says that people with power or privilege, fame or fortune, stardom or celebrity are blessed (sometimes even #blessed). But, Jesus did not inaugurate his ministry by telling those who surrounded him, “Blessed are the 1%ers for they will get even richer, blessed are the movie stars for they will garner even more fame, and blessed are the politicians for their corrupt way is the right one.” Still, there is one more twist on this audacious way that Jesus walked, the way of all the saints, the way we are invited to walk as well.

A blessing is not something that is earned or achieved, but rather it is something given to us. None of us gain God’s blessings by something we have done. Instead, all are saints by receiving the blessings—as counter-cultural as they may be—from God as complete and total gift. And, no blessing transforms us more than the grace of God’s beloved Son. So on this All Saints’ Sunday may we be saints too, may we receive the blessings of God as hard as they may be, and may we most of all receive and share the unconditional love of God through Christ—for certainly that and not the love of politicians, celebrities, and sports stars is worth celebrating and going crazy over!

The Evolution of Suffering

Suffering has evolved and moved into the spotlight, but what about our intentions behind hard work?

We pick up this coming Sunday where this past Sunday’s Gospel lesson left us. Peter correctly answered Jesus’ question, “Who do you say that I am?” with the Messiah, and now we hear what it means to be the Son of the Living God. Namely this week, we discover that to be the Messiah one must undergo suffering and death and only then after complete surrender does God overcome death. At some point this week I am sure I will turn to Peter’s response to this statement, but to-day I am captivated by suffering.

When I was a child I can remember being captivated by many other things not at all related to suffering. One such mesmerizing figure of my youth was Michael Jordan. His three NBA championships before moving to Birmingham of all places to try out baseball for a couple of years, his place on the Olympic “Dream Team” in 1992, and his emblematic free throw line dunk all fascinated me. Perhaps it was solely his giftedness, but I think it also had to do with the “If I Could Be Like Mike” Gatorade commercial from 1992. I recall both wanting to be more like Jordan and consuming a lot of Gatorade as a result of that advertisement. As I look back though, something else stands out.

If one were to watch that commercial several times over one might not pick up on something that seems so glaring in light of modern commercials. The “Like Mike” spot featured kids playing joyfully and Jordan himself smiling and laughing, as well as performing at an ultimately high level. We miss in that minute-long advertisement the behind-the-scenes perseverance and practice that it took to achieve such a high standard of athleticism. At the time, the public was seemingly not ready to consume commercials dedicated to the suffering that it took to get to Jordan’s level. Fast forward twenty-five years and the landscape of suffering has evolved.

Today, our view on suffering—at least in pursuit of some goals—has changed. A 2014 Gatorade Ad entitled, “Hard Work” depicts athletes waking up before dawn to chase down their greatest ambitions. Other commercials from sporting goods companies, headphone makers, and even smartphone manufacturers show both professionals and amateurs pursuing difficult goals by making big sacrifices. So what happened in the last twenty-five years to bring suffering to the forefront?

We as a society have become more accustomed to seeing people work terrifically hard to achieve their personal ambitions. As our ideals shift from working our-selves to the bone to climb the corporate ladder to working ourselves to the bone for some sort of personal achievement, getting into shape, or improving overall health, we seem more ready to endure something painful or difficult; however, we undertake these challenges for goals that fade as quickly as the grass on a field of competition which gets no water. Do not get me wrong, I am one of the first to run after a hairy ambition that is nothing more than a personal goal, and on some level this pursuit is noble and worthwhile. Still, the betrayal, suffering, and death Jesus undertook was not so that he was personally better, faster, or stronger. No, Jesus' work on the Cross was and is about something else entirely.

The question that I must ask myself in the shadow of the Cross is why am I willing to undertake selfish, personal sacrifices, but I struggle to extend myself in the same way when Christ asks me to suffer with him? I have seen an evolution of suffering as it has moved from the shadows into the limelight of commercial America, but when will I notice a shift in the intention of why I undertake the challenges that lay in front of me? Christ willingly withstood the pain of the Cross in part so that I would not have to face the agony of death, but I believe he did this also to show me and us our own path forward.

We do not have to achieve our way into God's love. It is a free gift to us all. Somewhere within God's unconditional love though is a calling. We are called into selfless suffering, as Jesus calls us to take up our own crosses to follow him. This is not a pursuit of self-improvement, but rather a task of self-denial as we relinquish everything, so that Christ may live fully within us. This is the giving up of the cloak and coat, the walking the second mile, and the turning the other cheek that Jesus teaches. As I continue to contemplate this coming Sunday’s Good News may I be even just a little more willing to walk with Christ even when it is into the pain of suffering.

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?

Luke 21:5-19: When Practice Doesn't Make Perfect

"So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict."

"Practice makes perfect" is one of those sayings that I took to heart from an early age. I was never the tallest, the fastest, the most athletic, or the best skilled player on any of the soccer teams that I played on as a kid. So what I lacked in ability I tried to make up for in effort... AND PRACTICE (Sorry Allen Iverson, I'm talking about practice). I practiced and practiced and practiced. Everyday of the week, every week of the month, every month of the year, I practiced. Through that time I was urged on by the thought that if I practice hard enough, then I will be prepared to play a perfect game.
Sometimes this mentality creeps up in me as I prepare for something upcoming in the life of the parish. In particular, I think, "If I can practice hard enough, then I will preach a perfect sermon and everyone will walk away saying things like, 'Wow, I really want my spiritual life to grow!' and 'I can't wait to serve at St. John's Church more often!' and maybe even, 'That Seth really can preach!'" Yet, this upcoming Sunday's gospel from Luke describes a very different vision than practice makes perfect.
One day, according to Jesus, the religious and political structures will begin to fall, and wars and earthquakes will shake the earth, and famines and plagues will encircle the globe. At that point those who follow Jesus will be given an opportunity to testify. Well, the truth is our earthly systems continue to fail, wars and natural disasters continue to cripple nations, and food shortages and disease kill thousands every day. All that Jesus has said is going to happen is already happening and has been happening since he ascended into heaven. We have the opportunity RIGHT NOW to speak in his name, so what is stopping us?

I often wonder, what does it mean then to testify to God? Does it mean that we have to rehearse some Bible verses that we shoot at unsuspecting passersby? Maybe. Does it mean that we memorize some passionate narrative about turning away from a life of sin? Perhaps. Does it mean participating in dramatic debate about all of the signs (earthquakes, wars, famines, etc.) pointing to Jesus' impending return? Probably not. I think to testify is to engage in honest conversations and instead of "preparing [our] defense in advance," we leave our defenses down.

When we come in defenseless we can more honestly engage with those whom we might see as enemies. God already gives us words and wisdom if we would just slow down enough to listen to what is being said within our hearts, minds, and spirits. If we come in having a practiced script we might be too tied up in spitting out what we want to say. We might miss that our supposed opponents are just like us. We might miss that God removes those things that stand in the way of connecting with our opponents. We might miss that no division exists in God's reality, they are merely our own fabrication.

There are certainly things to practice in this world. Yet, there is one area where not practicing leads to perfection. When we talk to our "opponents" leave the memorized monologues behind and rely upon taking down our defenses, so that we stand together on the sacred ground that we share in interacting with one another. Christ will give us the words to say, but only if we first remove our shields of apprehension, fear, prejudice, doubt, and hatred.

Loving Father, you constantly give us words and wisdom, I ask that You help us to remove anything that we build up between each another, that we might see that Your Kingdom is that space that exists between us, and that we are the ones who are charged with revealing it to one another. All this we ask through the loving example of Jesus your Son, and the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen!