Greer took the lead in this week's lesson and showed us why Baptists believe the lay person (even if a foot doctor) can read and interpret and teach from Scripture.
The lesson was on spiritual discernment, which was loosely defined as being attuned enough to the Kingdom to recognize when things are happening. Now, that's a pretty good definition, if you ask me. And the examples given were the magi, the prophet Anna, and Simeon. They were all attuned enough to the Kingdom to recognize the Christ-child.
Notice that attuned is very similar to in tune. They sound similar, but, having the same root (tune), they can also mean similar things.
When we speak of being "attuned," we think of being in harmony, of being aware, of being at one. When we are attuned, we hear and see and smell things that another might just miss or ignore. There is nothing magic about being attuned; it's just something that happens over time, with work of course, the way spouses learn to read each other. Such awareness is important, for it determines how we will act.
Now, think of how this is similar to being "in tune." For a musician to be in tune, s/he must first develop an ear for pitch and harmony and rhythm. A musician has to be able to hear certain things, things most of us don't even notice, which takes practice and familiarity. And it is only when the ear is so developed that the musician can recognize when things are happening in the piece of music and act accordingly.
The point of the comparison is this: spiritual discernment is much more an art than a science. (Recently, though, we have finally realized that science itself is much more an art than what we usually call "science.") And, if spiritual discernment is more of an art, we need to become artists.
Greer looked at the four candles of Advent (hope, peace, joy, and love) and asked if praise wasn't the catalyst that caused them all to react.
I think he's on to something, although a legitimate question was raised as to the chicken and the egg. Do hope, peace, joy, and love cause praise? Or, does praise cause hope, peace, joy, and love?
The answer, I would suggest, is: Yes!
Yes, of course hope and peace and joy and love cause praise! Yes, of course praise causes hope and peace and joy and love!
And yet there is something about praise the is central. Something has happened in our lives and we cannot help but be grateful and thankful and full of praise. So, each day, we awake and offer praise. Maybe we were given hope and peace and joy and love first, but now we offer praise and thanksgiving first thing each day. And that makes (almost) all the difference.
By remembering that which has been done, is being done, and will be done for us, we become attuned to the Kingdom. We set our minds on the Kingdom and we hear its tune, its melody, its rhythm. And, as we listen for the Kingdom's tune, we adjust ourselves accordingly and go out into the world in the tune of the Kingdom.
Developing an ear, an eye, a nose for the Kingdom will provide the horizon in which we live, toward which we must live.
It's more of an art than it is a science.
But it's crucial that we develop the art of recognition, for we cannot act if we cannot see or hear or think it. It takes a certain training to see the a man left for dead on the side of the road, which is why most would just pass on by--all except for the Samaritan we call "good." It takes a certain understanding to see the Messiah in a child, but that is what Simeon and Anna saw. It takes some subtle discernment to distinguish between Neptune in the night sky and whatever that star in the East was, but the magi understood.
These are some of the great artists of Scripture and their stories belong to the pages of art history. Let us study their stories, so as to learn what it means to see and hear and taste and touch the Kingdom, to be attuned to the Kingdom, to be in tune with the Kingdom.
May we be artists, beginning each day with praise.
May we be artists, bringing hope, the key of the Kingdom, into a hopeless world.
May we be artists, bringing peace, the harmony of the Kingdom, into a violent world.
May we be artists, bringing joy, the refrain of the Kingdom, into a world of sorrow and unrest.
May we be artists, bringing love, the rhythm of the Kingdom, into a world that needs it so.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
It's Good To Have Depth
Ask any sports fan and you'll find out that having the most talented player won't guarantee success. You need talent, but you also need role players and a strong bench. Success depends upon both talent and depth.
Now, we Baptist folk believe in depth. It's something we like to call the priesthood of all believers. The priesthood of all believers is a pretty self-explanatory phrase that simply means that all of us are priests, ministers, leaders.
I've been thinking about this central Baptist tenant a lot lately. The economy has been wreaking havoc all over and the church has not been immune. But my thoughts have not been centered on our lack of resources, but rather on the resources that are not currently being utilized. Specifically, I'm thinking about our responsibility to be priests.
You have to blame (or credit) Greer for getting the wheels turning in my head. He said something about getting the advertising folks to create uplifting ads for churches and synagogues and mosques and freethinkers, etc, just for one year, during the holidays rather than promote consumerism. And I got to thinking that we have plenty of talent within the church already, so why would we look elsewhere?
And so I sent Greer an email, basically noting some of the great talent we have at FBC. For example, look at the great talents already being put to use in our church: the artistic/design talents (Jo, Glenna, Ann, Rebecca, Teresa etc), the theological talents (Aliou), the financial talents (Glenn, Kelton), the leadership talents (Mark, Bobby, etc) the musical talents (where to begin?), the talents to work with young people (again, where to begin?).
We are blessed with so much talent, as are other congregations. When will we begin to more fully utilize such wealth? We've already begun to see our pastor and some other dedicated workers take on the task of painting and renovating the gym. And I can't think of a better example of what it means to be Baptist. But we need others to follow the lead.
Why hire someone to do a job we can do ourselves? It's good to have a leader, someone to guide and inspire. But, when it comes down to it, we have to get our hands dirty.
When times were good, it was easy to just shell out some cash to fix a problem. (Well, we were fortunate that it was easy for some, even if not for all.) Those times are gone. The upside, though, is that we're learning on the job about what it means to be one of those strange folks called Baptists.
And so I told Greer that, rather than find outside help, we should get the folks in the church with the necessary talents and see what we could do. That's our job, by the way. And, then, we could call up the Baptists down the street (and the Episcopals and the Presbyterians and the Methodists and the Congregationalists and the Disciples and whoever else) to see if they had any talents that could be put to use.
That's not an original idea, by the way; it's as old as the church. Out of necessity, but I think also out of commitment, the early church was DIY. Baptists, also out of both necessity and commitment, picked up this DIY theme again. And, today, out of both necessity and commitment, the First Baptist Church of Memphis is becoming a DIY congregation more and more.
So, what are your talents? In what ways can you serve?
In the coming year, think about these things and find a place of service. We need talent, yes. But, remember, a successful team has solid role players and a strong bench. You don't have to be the best player on the court to make a significant impact on the game.
Now, we Baptist folk believe in depth. It's something we like to call the priesthood of all believers. The priesthood of all believers is a pretty self-explanatory phrase that simply means that all of us are priests, ministers, leaders.
I've been thinking about this central Baptist tenant a lot lately. The economy has been wreaking havoc all over and the church has not been immune. But my thoughts have not been centered on our lack of resources, but rather on the resources that are not currently being utilized. Specifically, I'm thinking about our responsibility to be priests.
You have to blame (or credit) Greer for getting the wheels turning in my head. He said something about getting the advertising folks to create uplifting ads for churches and synagogues and mosques and freethinkers, etc, just for one year, during the holidays rather than promote consumerism. And I got to thinking that we have plenty of talent within the church already, so why would we look elsewhere?
And so I sent Greer an email, basically noting some of the great talent we have at FBC. For example, look at the great talents already being put to use in our church: the artistic/design talents (Jo, Glenna, Ann, Rebecca, Teresa etc), the theological talents (Aliou), the financial talents (Glenn, Kelton), the leadership talents (Mark, Bobby, etc) the musical talents (where to begin?), the talents to work with young people (again, where to begin?).
We are blessed with so much talent, as are other congregations. When will we begin to more fully utilize such wealth? We've already begun to see our pastor and some other dedicated workers take on the task of painting and renovating the gym. And I can't think of a better example of what it means to be Baptist. But we need others to follow the lead.
Why hire someone to do a job we can do ourselves? It's good to have a leader, someone to guide and inspire. But, when it comes down to it, we have to get our hands dirty.
When times were good, it was easy to just shell out some cash to fix a problem. (Well, we were fortunate that it was easy for some, even if not for all.) Those times are gone. The upside, though, is that we're learning on the job about what it means to be one of those strange folks called Baptists.
And so I told Greer that, rather than find outside help, we should get the folks in the church with the necessary talents and see what we could do. That's our job, by the way. And, then, we could call up the Baptists down the street (and the Episcopals and the Presbyterians and the Methodists and the Congregationalists and the Disciples and whoever else) to see if they had any talents that could be put to use.
That's not an original idea, by the way; it's as old as the church. Out of necessity, but I think also out of commitment, the early church was DIY. Baptists, also out of both necessity and commitment, picked up this DIY theme again. And, today, out of both necessity and commitment, the First Baptist Church of Memphis is becoming a DIY congregation more and more.
So, what are your talents? In what ways can you serve?
In the coming year, think about these things and find a place of service. We need talent, yes. But, remember, a successful team has solid role players and a strong bench. You don't have to be the best player on the court to make a significant impact on the game.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Easter Faith On Christmas Day
Advent is coming to an end, but a new journey awaits. And we, like the magi, look to the rising star in the East to guide our way.
But where does the star lead us?
Follow the star through the darkness and you will find an eclipse, says a former professor, Richard F. Wilson, in the sermon "Eclipse" from his collection entitled Rhythms. And so it is that the light emanating from the star is finally eclipsed by the darkness that occurs at the cross, a darkness that Wilson notes is all the more dark because of the light provided by the star.
Are we ready to welcome the child in the manger as the man who, on the cross, exclaims: My God, My God, why have you forsaken me? Is our hope, the hope of Advent and Christmas, forsaken on the cross with the (forsaken) one in whom our hope lies? Will our Christmas faith survive the darkness of the so-called "Good" Friday? And, as we welcome our Coming Lord, are we prepared to follow his path to the cross and the death that comes his way?
In another sermon, "Living East of Eden," Wilson says that our lives are haunted by two unavoidable truths, truths he finds in Fiddler on the Roof as much as in the words of Scripture. The first is that "[o]ur lives are defined by their horizons;" the second that "our lives are mixtures of joys and sorrows."
Our common horizon as humans, says Wilson, is that we live east of Eden. But he argues on biblical grounds that living east of Eden is not a bad thing, that Eden and east of Eden are really not that different, that Eden is not the grand Paradise it is made out to be--if you read the text itself.
Eden, he says, in addition to being the place where life began, was also "where relationships were made and broken, where temptation to sin was met and embraced, where judgment was pronounced, and where forgiveness was offered and accepted." Not so different from our world, right? And, besides, the one we welcome tomorrow was born and lived east of Eden.
Wilson continues by noting how God's purpose for humanity does not change as we move eastward. Compare Genesis 2.15 with 3.23 and you will find that God's purpose is ever the same: "to till the ground," to live and work productively in God's good creation. So Wilson understands Eden "as much a place of preparation as ... a Paradise."
And as to humanity's flight from Eden, rather than letting the second mention (God driving humanity out in 3.24) govern the first mention (God sending humanity out in 3.23), Wilson chooses to have the first mention dictate what it means to leave Eden. God driving out the sinful humans seems like something straight out of Jonathan Edwards, as if humanity were "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God." Humanity as "'sent forth ... to till the ground' sounds like missionary talk to me," offers Wilson--and you get the feeling that he is at least a little bit excited by the notion of being sent with a purpose by a loving Creator, Sustainer, and Redeemer.
To tie the two sermons together, let us consider our horizons as ones who eagerly await the coming of Mary's magnificent child and begin the journey to follow him to the cross. Our horizons are Christmas, on the one hand, and Easter, on the other. They are inextricably linked, so that you cannot have one without the other. And, together, they define our life as the church, the ones who gather together in the name of the one who is born on Christmas and who is risen on Easter.
But we cannot have Christmas without Advent, just as we cannot have Easter without Lent and Good Friday.
And so, here we are, at the dusk of Advent, following the star, seeking to "live toward," to quote Wilson, the horizon that is Christmas. It is here, in the "midnight brightness," following the star to the Christ-child, that our Easter faith begins. As is life in general, this Advent has been a mixture of joy and sorrow; Christmas will be the same. Christmas is, like Eden, often portrayed as some perfect and peaceful Paradise. Yet, get a little closer to the manger and you will see cries of agony alongside the cries of celebration.
In mere hours now, we will gather around the manger and proclaim--no, exclaim--"Emmanuel, God With Us!" We will then begin a new journey, as we seek to "live toward" our other horizon, Easter, following the star from the East that lights the way to the Christ. Again, our path will be met with both joys and sorrows. And we will have to hear the cry of the babe-turned-man: My God, my God, why have Thou forsaken me?
As Wilson observes, such a cry sends a chill down our collective spine, and even down God's very own spine, the way a shadow from a sudden cloud brings a chill in springtime, "reminding us that winter is not completely gone." Such is Good Friday, when the star is eclipsed and we stand in the shadow of the cross, where our Easter faith begins again, with hope that a new day will dawn.
Are we ready for a new journey, the journey toward the cross? We don't have long to prepare, for Christmas is coming, bringing life and bringing our Lord. Come, Lord Jesus!
Come, Lord Jesus, indeed. But, with his coming, we will then be sent forth with a purpose, the same purpose humanity has ever had: to till the ground.
May we, like the magi, follow the star to Jesus, the Christ. And may we travel together, so that the chill won't be as bad when the cross finally eclipses the star.
Come, Lord Jesus. Come now, as Christmas approaches. Come now, as the cross has even now already eclipsed the star. Come now, as Christmas and Easter become one hope, the hope for our Coming Lord. Come now, we pray.
Amen.
But where does the star lead us?
Follow the star through the darkness and you will find an eclipse, says a former professor, Richard F. Wilson, in the sermon "Eclipse" from his collection entitled Rhythms. And so it is that the light emanating from the star is finally eclipsed by the darkness that occurs at the cross, a darkness that Wilson notes is all the more dark because of the light provided by the star.
Are we ready to welcome the child in the manger as the man who, on the cross, exclaims: My God, My God, why have you forsaken me? Is our hope, the hope of Advent and Christmas, forsaken on the cross with the (forsaken) one in whom our hope lies? Will our Christmas faith survive the darkness of the so-called "Good" Friday? And, as we welcome our Coming Lord, are we prepared to follow his path to the cross and the death that comes his way?
In another sermon, "Living East of Eden," Wilson says that our lives are haunted by two unavoidable truths, truths he finds in Fiddler on the Roof as much as in the words of Scripture. The first is that "[o]ur lives are defined by their horizons;" the second that "our lives are mixtures of joys and sorrows."
Our common horizon as humans, says Wilson, is that we live east of Eden. But he argues on biblical grounds that living east of Eden is not a bad thing, that Eden and east of Eden are really not that different, that Eden is not the grand Paradise it is made out to be--if you read the text itself.
Eden, he says, in addition to being the place where life began, was also "where relationships were made and broken, where temptation to sin was met and embraced, where judgment was pronounced, and where forgiveness was offered and accepted." Not so different from our world, right? And, besides, the one we welcome tomorrow was born and lived east of Eden.
Wilson continues by noting how God's purpose for humanity does not change as we move eastward. Compare Genesis 2.15 with 3.23 and you will find that God's purpose is ever the same: "to till the ground," to live and work productively in God's good creation. So Wilson understands Eden "as much a place of preparation as ... a Paradise."
And as to humanity's flight from Eden, rather than letting the second mention (God driving humanity out in 3.24) govern the first mention (God sending humanity out in 3.23), Wilson chooses to have the first mention dictate what it means to leave Eden. God driving out the sinful humans seems like something straight out of Jonathan Edwards, as if humanity were "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God." Humanity as "'sent forth ... to till the ground' sounds like missionary talk to me," offers Wilson--and you get the feeling that he is at least a little bit excited by the notion of being sent with a purpose by a loving Creator, Sustainer, and Redeemer.
To tie the two sermons together, let us consider our horizons as ones who eagerly await the coming of Mary's magnificent child and begin the journey to follow him to the cross. Our horizons are Christmas, on the one hand, and Easter, on the other. They are inextricably linked, so that you cannot have one without the other. And, together, they define our life as the church, the ones who gather together in the name of the one who is born on Christmas and who is risen on Easter.
But we cannot have Christmas without Advent, just as we cannot have Easter without Lent and Good Friday.
And so, here we are, at the dusk of Advent, following the star, seeking to "live toward," to quote Wilson, the horizon that is Christmas. It is here, in the "midnight brightness," following the star to the Christ-child, that our Easter faith begins. As is life in general, this Advent has been a mixture of joy and sorrow; Christmas will be the same. Christmas is, like Eden, often portrayed as some perfect and peaceful Paradise. Yet, get a little closer to the manger and you will see cries of agony alongside the cries of celebration.
In mere hours now, we will gather around the manger and proclaim--no, exclaim--"Emmanuel, God With Us!" We will then begin a new journey, as we seek to "live toward" our other horizon, Easter, following the star from the East that lights the way to the Christ. Again, our path will be met with both joys and sorrows. And we will have to hear the cry of the babe-turned-man: My God, my God, why have Thou forsaken me?
As Wilson observes, such a cry sends a chill down our collective spine, and even down God's very own spine, the way a shadow from a sudden cloud brings a chill in springtime, "reminding us that winter is not completely gone." Such is Good Friday, when the star is eclipsed and we stand in the shadow of the cross, where our Easter faith begins again, with hope that a new day will dawn.
Are we ready for a new journey, the journey toward the cross? We don't have long to prepare, for Christmas is coming, bringing life and bringing our Lord. Come, Lord Jesus!
Come, Lord Jesus, indeed. But, with his coming, we will then be sent forth with a purpose, the same purpose humanity has ever had: to till the ground.
May we, like the magi, follow the star to Jesus, the Christ. And may we travel together, so that the chill won't be as bad when the cross finally eclipses the star.
Come, Lord Jesus. Come now, as Christmas approaches. Come now, as the cross has even now already eclipsed the star. Come now, as Christmas and Easter become one hope, the hope for our Coming Lord. Come now, we pray.
Amen.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Magnificat
Today's lesson from the Gospels comes from Luke. It is Mary's song, known as the Magnificat, one of the most familiar texts in Christian tradition. (For what it's worth, it is called the Magnificat because that is the first word of the Latin text.) And, although we could discuss what it means know and what it meant then, I think it would be best to just read it.
My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour,
for he has looked with favour on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.
My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour,
for he has looked with favour on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.
Friday, December 18, 2009
@firstresponses
We here at first responses are now on Twitter (@firstresponses, or http://twitter.com/firstresponses).
Nothing about this blog will change (except the addition of a Twitter Update section), but we do invite you to join not only us but many in our church family and surrounding community on Twitter.
Nothing about this blog will change (except the addition of a Twitter Update section), but we do invite you to join not only us but many in our church family and surrounding community on Twitter.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
World AIDS Day
Our church was in the news last week.
For ten years now, First Baptist has been participating in World AIDS Day.
Of course, it is a little unusual for a church (and a Baptist church at that) to get involved in HIV/AIDS. But FBC is not your average church, and certainly not your average Baptist church in the south.
Ten years ago, a man working for Friends for Life had an idea. He wanted to use the median on East Parkway at the corner of Poplar, directly in front of FBC, to place a memorial to those who had died from HIV/AIDS. As a courtesy, he contacted the church to ask if there would be a problem.
Understand, this was a gay man with AIDS who grew up in the south, so there was every reason to suspect that it might indeed be a problem. This man had had his fill of churches and church folk.
Well, a funny thing happened on the way to the memorial. The pastor of FBC at the time welcomed the idea and even volunteered the church's front lawn. Several years later, the predominately white FBC reached across the street to the Greater Lewis Street Missionary Baptist Church, a predominately African-American congregation. And the two churches, different in many ways, have made it a joint event ever since.
And so it is that, each year around December 1, you will find white stakes with red ribbons, nearly 3,000 of them now, on opposite corners of Poplar and Parkway, in remembrance of those who have lost the battle with HIV/AIDS in Shelby County since 1985. Why 1985, you ask? That's when they began counting.
Here are two articles about this year's ceremony:
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Connected
We're back, after a long haitus.
It is the busy season again. Already, there have been parties and parties and more parties, not to mention shopping and decorating and cooking and...It makes me tire just thinking about it.
But this is also the Advent season, the time when we prepare for the birth of Jesus, our Coming Lord. As we prepare to welcome him, we rightly welcome friends and family into our houses, exchanging gifts, practicing hospitality.
As we go about this busy season, though, let us also rest. Our hearts are restless until they rests in Thee, O God, said St. Augustine. Let us rest, and not be restless, by centering our busy-ness around the God who is busy making all things new. And, in the process, may we be made new.
Our focus should not be on trying to outdo our neighbors, flaunting the extravagances we can afford (although I certainly enjoy those types of parties). Rather, our focus, as followers of Christ, should be on friendship and hospitality and love. Indeed, our focus should be on extending our friendship, our hospitality, our love to those who may not receive such gifts. The same Jesus we prepare to welcome taught us to do so.
We are connected to our God and to each other. During Advent, think of ways to extend such wonderful connections to the disconnected, the unconnected, the ones who don't even know they are not connected.
We are preparing for the birth of Jesus. But, remember, Just as you did to the least of these who are in my family, so you did for me, says the very same Jesus.
It is the busy season again. Already, there have been parties and parties and more parties, not to mention shopping and decorating and cooking and...It makes me tire just thinking about it.
But this is also the Advent season, the time when we prepare for the birth of Jesus, our Coming Lord. As we prepare to welcome him, we rightly welcome friends and family into our houses, exchanging gifts, practicing hospitality.
As we go about this busy season, though, let us also rest. Our hearts are restless until they rests in Thee, O God, said St. Augustine. Let us rest, and not be restless, by centering our busy-ness around the God who is busy making all things new. And, in the process, may we be made new.
Our focus should not be on trying to outdo our neighbors, flaunting the extravagances we can afford (although I certainly enjoy those types of parties). Rather, our focus, as followers of Christ, should be on friendship and hospitality and love. Indeed, our focus should be on extending our friendship, our hospitality, our love to those who may not receive such gifts. The same Jesus we prepare to welcome taught us to do so.
We are connected to our God and to each other. During Advent, think of ways to extend such wonderful connections to the disconnected, the unconnected, the ones who don't even know they are not connected.
We are preparing for the birth of Jesus. But, remember, Just as you did to the least of these who are in my family, so you did for me, says the very same Jesus.
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