Date: 1/19/2004
Time: 11:26:51 AM

Comment

"Ear Candy". The trouble with the gospel is that it holds itself -and it's proclaimers!- to a higher standard than one comes to expect from presidential speeches and coaches pep-talks. Jeremiah's encounter with the almighty was sounding all wonderful and sweet until that sobering/sour phrase about building up and plucking down; to plant and to wreek havok! Now Jesus is doing some of the same; just after we note that some speak well of him and celebrate his gracious words...now he lets 'em have it with a reality trip that sends them to throwing stones!

So what's the place from which to preach the gospel? Do we communicate enough grace and goodness to do justice to God's good news??? Do we speak enough trouble and cynicism to accurately reflect the world as it stands in need of God's good news?? Frederich Buechner says that the gospel is always bad news before it is good news (quoted by Paul Scott Wilson in "The Four Pages of the Sermon, abingdon, 1999). Maybe there's something in that; candy -for the tummy or the ear- is no sensible ingredient for a steady diet, but it works alright as a re"treat" from the normal. As such, the gospel requires us to chew on the tuff realities of our need for God's grace long enough to appreciate the 'candy' of how that Grace DOES offer a way out.

Perry in kitchener/Waterloo, Ontario


Date: 1/22/2004
Time: 9:04:37 AM

Comment

Jesus picked a fight!

From the text, obviously the first reactions from the audience to Jesus’ sermon were very favorable: “All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, ‘Is not this Joseph's son?’” But then He had to provoke them and telling them how God had moved on from them. (Yike! Would that be my fate too? For I have been growing up and serving at this same church for the last 20 years...) No wonder that “when they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage.”

Why didn’t Jesus just keep His mouth shut?! The key seems to be in v.23: He said to them, "Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, 'Doctor, cure yourself!' And you will say, 'Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.'" Unless Jesus was mistaken, the crowd inner reactions were not the same as their outward reactions in the preceding verse. (So, the next time people respond well to the sermon, don’t take heed too much, watch for their real responses from their life styles).

What were the audience’s real reactions? They wanted to see “the things that they have heard Jesus did at Capernaum.” They demanded that Jesus walk his talk (didn’t He just finished saying that God anointed Him to recover the sight for the blind, release the captives, and bring good news to the poor earlier?) But this was more than just a hunger to see some actions; this was the stubborn challenge to the authority of God. (Sadly, this will be one of the typical responses we can expect from harden hearts toward our preaching: ‘Hey preacher, apply that to yourself first;’ and ‘Yeah, it would be nice if YOU do something about it!’)

The same Word spoken, to the humble heart (which submit itself under the authority of God) breeds life-changing responses; yet to the harden heart yields stubborn challenges and even persecutions to the proclaimers.

“He passed through the midst of them and went on His way.” It is interesting to see how Jesus responded to the harden hearts. He didn’t bother to prove Himself with miraculous signs or healing. Nor neither he corrected their misconception of “Is not this Joseph’s son, a historical man named Jesus?” He shook his sandals and moved on. In the tradition of Jeremiah and the prophets, Jesus came back to His own hometown and proclaimed God’s Word. In that same tradition, He provoked them to revealed the true state of their harden hearts. And if that tradition were to hold true, as He was on His way departing from them, His own heart was also broken in grief, for He loved them and wished so much that things could end in the different way.

Father God, keep my heart humble to the authority of Your Word so that I can lead my congregation in humility toward Your Word too. Don’t pass through our midst and go on your way, leaving us with our religions and rituals but without You. Help us to respond rightly (both outward expressions and inward attitudes) to You and Your Word!

Coho, Midway City


Date: 1/22/2004
Time: 9:15:51 AM

Comment

People in Jesus' hometown are initially pleased when he says that God will free the oppressed. Their pleasure turns to rage, however, when he reminds them that prophets often bring God's blessings to those who are regarded as outsiders.

Jesus stands in the synagogue in his hometown, reading the scripture. Then he sits down, as was the custom, to interpret—to preach. He is surrounded by kinfolk, neighbors, friends. Surely this is a loving assembly, as when one of our own goes to seminary and returns to preach among us. And at first "all spoke well of him" and were properly impressed at his gracious words.

This reception was less than it seemed. Quibbles arose: "Is not this Joseph's son?" Just a carpenter, a common man. Rumors had returned here of Jesus' healings in Capernaum. Some who knew him thought he should heal himself, others wanted to see the show. There is nothing here reflecting the sort of encouragement God showed to Jeremiah.

Proclamation of the gospel, as Jesus will make clear in parables, is a two-way street. The word must be lovingly proclaimed, and it must be lovingly received. Paul lays out memorably the parameters of love in today's second reading. In fact, it takes little effort to alter Paul's words to fit the hearing assembly: "If one speaks in tongues of mortals and of angels, but does not have love, it will sound like a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal." The original wording, of course, applies to the preacher; the responsibility lies on both parties.

The gospel flourishes in the matrix of love. It has amazing power in itself, but it cannot do its work where it is strangled by an absence of love. Every congregation wants to be a gathering of loving people nourishing all that is good. But we need to be reminded now and then of the hard truth that warm, fuzzy thoughts are not enough. The gospel calls from us loving action—patient, kind, not envious or arrogant—in response to the proclamation.

George W. Hoyer


Date: 1/22/2004
Time: 9:29:29 AM

Comment

To be known by God can be a challenge as well as a comfort. Jesus is back in his hometown with people he has known all of his life. They are amazed by his reading from the prophet Isaiah in the synagogue and his claim that the words of the prophet are fulfilled in him. They think they know Jesus - he is Joseph's son! But Jesus reminds them of the stories of two prophets who were not sent to the people of Israel but to foreigners. He tells them that he knows they will not receive him, either. He knows them and expects their response: they try to kill him.


Date: 1/22/2004
Time: 10:18:00 AM

Comment

When I went to serve First Presbyterian Church in Paris, Texas in 1990, one of the first things I noticed was that there were two chairs (heaavy oak, almost throne chairs) on each side of the communion table. I asked what they were for- and Mr. Bauer said that they were for the pointer and the beaner. The pointer's job was to listen to the sermon, and if there was a part of the sermon that he thought applied to a person in the congregation, he was to stand up and point at them. And what did the beaner do, I asked. Mr Bauer said that he was to watch for those who were starting to nod off, and he had a drinking straw and some small beans...

I've never seen a congregation without a few pointers. Somehow, the sermon always seems to apply to someone else

Grace and Peace;

revgilmer in texarkana


Date: 1/25/2004
Time: 11:55:55 AM

Comment

The bad news is ... the healing is for Namaan and the never ending meal and oil are for the widow of Zarephath, not for me.

The good news is that if I love Namaan and the widow of Zarephath, I have something to rejoice about too!

Why do you think they let him pass through the crowd and depart? Do you think that as part of a mob they were willing to do it, but when it came down to who was actually going to hurl him off the cliff they all left it for someone else? Did Mary or Joseph or one of Jesus siblings show up and shame them? Did they come to their senses when Jesus did not resist them?

I just find it rather curious that there isn't any explanation. I guess as far as Luke is concerned, WHY they refrained from throwing him off the cliff isn't important. The important thing is THAT he was able to walk away.

SS in PA


Date: 1/25/2004
Time: 12:21:15 PM

Comment

I think that perhaps there is a connection to this gospel pericope from some words that Jean Vanier wrote years ago about our own communities (regardless of denomination, stated purpose, goals, hopes): "It is quite easy to found a community. There are always plenty of courageous people who want to be heroes, are ready to sleep on the floor, to work hard hours each day, to live in dilapidated houses. It’s not hard to camp—anyone can rough it for a time. The problem comes in living with brothers and sisters whom we have not chosen but who have been given to us, and in working ever more truthfully towards the goal. A community is only being created when its members accept that they are not going to achieve great things, that they are not going to be heroes, but simply live each day with new hope, like children, in wonderment as the sun rises and in thankfulness as it sets. Community is only being created when they have recognized that the greatness of humanity lies in the acceptance of our insignificance, our human condition, and to thank God for having put in a finite body the seeds of eternity which are visible in small and daily gestures of love and forgiveness." I'm still pondering the daily implications of that... Fr. Tom, OCW


Date: 1/25/2004
Time: 3:07:53 PM

Comment

I often think of when I was out of college and I interviewed with my home church for a children/youth director position. I was offered the position, but I turned it down because I kept hearing this scripture in my head. I usually think the same thing when I hear of people serving in the church they grew up in. I think it is hard for many to let go of the image of a person as a child.

Nebraska Nick


Date: 1/26/2004
Time: 5:30:46 AM

Comment

Perry in kitchner got me to thinking: being a preacher/pastor, I've been thinking lately, is much like walking a tightrope. My role is part chaplain part turn-around pastor, and those roles can come into conflict!! When I get into trouble is when I start thinking that it's my job to "save" a congregation - usually from its ultimate demise. At those times (and they are many, I confess), I recall the words of a more experienced pastor ... "if you try to be a savior, remember that saviors are always crucified."

While I, too, have difficulty feeding "candy" to hearers of "my" sermon, or interpreting the Gospel as entertaining Pabulum, I think Perry is right. Pushing the envelope too far is counterproductive.

Another pastor put it to me thusly: "They have a savior and it isn't you." (ouch!)

Sally in GA


Date: 1/26/2004
Time: 5:34:12 AM

Comment

oops - one more thing:

What strikes me this time is not that they were mad at Jesus (this is an old familiar story and the impact that ANYone would disagree with JESUS has worn off), but just how passionately angry we can get when our point of view is challenged.

The psych major in me attributes this to a serious identity crisis: it's not just our point of view, but our very identities wrapped up in that point of view defining who we ARE that causes this angry defensive reaction.

Sally


Date: 1/26/2004
Time: 5:35:48 AM

Comment

revgilmer - for REAL??? No kidding!

God forgive me for those times when I'm the pointer.

Sally


Date: 1/26/2004
Time: 8:49:01 AM

Comment

I had been serving churches for 8 years when the church I had grown up in had an anniversary and invited back all those who had gone off into full time ministry. It had actually been 22 years since I had graduated HS and went to college, never to return to that church for regular attendance, yet I was invited to preach one of their Sunday services as part of their annivesary. The sermon was brilliant and well executed, if I do say so myself. Then little old Mrs. Unger came up to me in front of a whole crowd and said, "I remember when little Davie was the narrator of the youth play...he was so cute then and still is today." No one commented on the sermon at all, only on my time as a child and youth in that church. You really can't go home...at least not to preach. Rev. Israel


Date: 1/26/2004
Time: 11:06:47 AM

Comment

Sally, Well, that's what Mr. Bauer told me. He may have been kidding, but he told me that it was the truth-and I have yet to see a communion table with one chair on each side (that stayed there all the time) anywhere else.

revgilmer in texarkana


Date: 1/26/2004
Time: 11:29:00 AM

Comment

There's a picture of a big welcome home parade after a war—one of those old photographs of soldiers coming home. Standing on the curb along the parade route are the gathered crowds. Some are smiling, others waving, still others hooting and hollering with delight and waving flags. But then your eyes move to look at the faces of the marchers as they parade down the street. They seem like the boys they were when they left, yet somehow the experience of war makes them look old beyond their years. Their eyes still sparkle, but look as if they've glimpsed death. They may be glad to be home, but their smiles seem more like smiles of relief than joy. Perhaps Jesus would understand. He returns to Nazareth flush from victory over Satan in the desert. His name recognition has soared sine he now has such a good reputation as a healer and teacher. Yet while the hometown crowd welcomes him in style, something does not quite seem right. It may be odd, but try to picture it nonetheless: Jesus, fresh from the wilderness and more under the Spirit's power than his own. Picture this Jesus as the hometown hero returned.

So what does Jesus do? He shows up for worship in Nazareth. He even stands up to read. The scripture text consists of some of the most soaring verses of Isaiah. Jesus, the local boy who made it big, reads a text so full of God's promise it makes every gathered Nazarene glow. By the end, the people are positively gushing. You know how it goes. Have you ever seen one of those services in which the children help lead worship? Everyone is dressed in his or her Sunday finest. Some of the younger children lead the adults in singing "Jesus Loves Me." Still later some of the youth get up to read, even if haltingly, the scriptures for the day. And then, to top it off, a recent graduate returns from college to give the sermon. You can almost imagine the worshipers saying to themselves, "Why, didn't he turn out well!" But now take the picture one step further. Imagine that college student standing up to preach and concluding the sermon with these words: "The promises of God are wonderful, aren't they? Well, here's the really good news. Now that I'm here, they are all set in motion. In me, all of God's promises are being fulfilled." This is essentially what Jesus says on the Sabbath day in Nazareth: "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."

Suddenly, all talk of praise seems out of place. Jesus seems to have made a claim for himself that the locals in Nazareth are not yet ready to offer their "amen" to. "Isn't this Joseph's boy?" they wonder. And that is the issue, isn't it? Seeing Jesus in the flesh no doubt made it harder to buy into such lofty prophetic claims. Could they remember the boy Jesus playing in the street? Might they have seen young Jesus learning something of the building trade from Joseph? Or was it just that a flesh and blood person was standing before them in the synagogue that day? We don't know. At any rate, they could go not further with Jesus. They "wondered" about him. Of course, we may have a hard time understanding him, too. The Jesus in our minds walks ten feet off the ground. We are baffled by the fact that Jesus' own contemporaries don't seem to embrace him. Yet we must admit that there are times when we're not so sure about Jesus, either. Perhaps we "wonder" when we are broken, and Jesus doesn't heal us. Maybe we "wonder" when we are hurting, and Jesus doesn't heal us. Or perhaps we "wonder" when we are in deep pain, and Jesus still doesn't heal us. At moments like that, we may also be inclined to think of Jesus as did his Nazarene contemporaries: "A fine person, yes, with noble ideas—but isn't he Joseph's son?"

Let's be honest: on the surface, the statement sounds implausible. Jesus refuses to heal? This doesn't seem to fit the Jesus we know. How could this be? We are tempted, aren't we, to assume there must just be some misunderstanding. We would love to find a reason to exonerate Jesus, to justify his position, but we can't. It's not that Jesus can't heal, he just flat- out refuses to heal the people of his hometown. It's not a misprint in our Bibles, it's not a mistranslation of the Greek, nor is it something we can write off in terms of cultural differences of the historical Jesus. As if to drive the point home further, Jesus chooses to illustrate his refusal by drawing on the Bible. "Just turn through your Bible," Jesus seems to say. "There's Elijah helping out a Sidonian widow, not folks like you. Go a little further, and check out God's track record through Elisha. Whom does he heal? Naaman the Syrian!" In short, Jesus is throwing the good book at the Nazarenes. It's not that he can't heal, it's that he just won't heal them—in fact, he will heal anyone but them!

Perhaps by now we can begin to understand the crowd's actions. Sure, we have trouble seeing ourselves taking part in a bloodthirsty mob. We are reasonable people, pious people, and certainly not the kind of people who would put someone to death in a rage. Or are we? Truth be told, we religious folk are hardly exempt from such a charge. While we may not envision ourselves throwing an impudent prophet over a cliff, we do still live in a culture in which accounts are settled by means of deadly corporate action. Whether it's the fringe hate groups that usurp the power of judgment through domestic terrorism, or the death penalty, or even the state's use of assassination to pursue foreign policy interests (how many have we publicly discussed knocking off Castro, Saddam Hussein, or Milosevic?), we must confess that we actually still entertain the thought of solving problems this way. Given that, we suddenly can see what's going on in Nazareth. The people who were prepared to toss Jesus out of town and over a cliff look more familiar than we first through. They are "us." No less than those who crucified Jesus and called for his blood in Jerusalem, we are part of the story.

There's a painting in Europe of the crucifixion scene. In the middle is Christ on the cross. He is just as we'd expect him—suffering unto death. Yet as our eyes circle around the cross, we see an unusual scene. All of a sudden we realize that behind the cross is not first-century Jerusalem, but a fifteenth-century European city. Around the crucified Jesus are portrayed not citizens of the ancient world, but people from the artist's own time. As we look at the picture, the truth suddenly dawns on us: those people who would kill Jesus—they could be us.

Surely it was a strange sight. In the midst of an angry crowd, Jesus makes an odd exit: "passing through the midst of them he went away." We like to imagine grander exits, such as in shoot-'em-up movie scenes in which vengeance is delivered in bloodred technicolor or someone rides off into the sunset in heroic fashion. Yet Jesus did not operate by the crowd's moral compass to start with, nor does he begin doing so now. He just leaves. Then again, perhaps the picture is not as odd as we first thought. When Jesus leaves, he does so in a manner reminiscent of his resurrection. If the crowds, the religious authorities, and the Roman Empire through to control Jesus by crucifying him, they were in for a rude surprise. This same Jesus would be resurrected. He was destined to be "on the loose." In the end, there is no point in trying to control or circumscribe his healing power. Like the same Spirit who led him into the desert and then out, this Jesus goes where he pleases. So he doesn't vindicate himself at the expense of the outraged locals; instead, he passes through them and leaves. After all, his jubilee of preaching good news to the poor, proclaiming release to the captives, declaring the recovery of sight to the blind, and setting at liberty those who are oppressed is just getting started. It will not be contained by the angriest of hometown crowds or even death itself.

In taking Jesus for a hometown boy who had become a big name on the healing circuit, those who thought they knew him best (that means us, by the way) actually knew him least. Perhaps welcoming the jubilee kingdom requires all of us to give up what we are so sure we know: that might makes right, that my people are better than your people, that God loves only the right kind of folk, and so on. Indeed, by recognizing that Jesus is not just "Joseph's boy" but God's Son, we surrender our limited vision to a God whose strange, sovereign will is justice, healing, and mercy for everyone. Jesus' jubilee proclamation breaks the bound of our parochial worlds, but it doesn't destroy them. For if we who live in our own hometowns don't recognize Jesus' universal mission—even to those people we don't like—we might not be healed, either. Why? Perhaps because when we fail to recognize his mission, we miss the most important thing of all: that we need healing, liberty, and good news precisely where we don't want it. Our vision of how we think God's Son, in his sovereign mercy, should heal us is too narrow. Maybe this is why Alcoholics Anonymous works so well. Not a few people have looked down on alcoholics; we have viewed them as bums, failures, or even worse. But it would be fruitless for the purpose of healing to focus on anyone's merit or ability to climb out of the morass that is alcoholism. Alcoholics Anonymous doesn't heal by asking alcoholics through some act of the will to believe in healing or even some wonder-working healer, but by inviting them to trust in a "higher power." Perhaps this is what Jesus' jubilee mission consists of: asking us not to rely on the strength of people like ourselves, but to trust in God's own son, Jesus, whose mercy is as wide as the world itself.


Date: 1/26/2004
Time: 5:39:23 PM

Comment

It strikes me that Jesus' words were accepted, "All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth," but that Jesus Christ himself was not accepted.

In "The Cost of Discipleship", Bonhoeffer writes, "Discipleship means adherence to Christ, and, because Christ is the object of that adherence, it must take the form of discipleship. An abstract Christology, a doctrinal system, a general religious knowledge on the subject of grace or on the forgiveness of sins, render discipleship superfluous, and in fact they positively exclude any idea of discipleship whatever, and are essentially inimical to the whole conception of following Christ. With an abstract idea it is possible to enter into a relation of formal knowledge, to become enthusiastic about it, and perhaps even to put it into practice; but it can never be followed in personal obedience...And a Christianity of that kind is nothing more or less than the end of discipleship." (Chap. 2, p. 59)

Could it be that their (our?) enthusiasm about doctrine, ideals, concepts, abstracts, words stood in the way of truly accepting and following Christ? That instead, they (we?) were disciples of doctrines, disciples of ideals, and disciples of words? That they (we?)accepted the words, but not the Messiah? They had a simple choice: acceptance or rejection - not of the words, but of the Christ. They chose rejection.

What is our choice?

What is my choice?

Ed in GA


Date: 1/26/2004
Time: 7:12:11 PM

Comment

"The synagogue was filled with rage." I was asked to leave my congregation. I don't know any of you. I thought I knew them.It hurts

From: weary of well doing


Date: 1/26/2004
Time: 8:11:20 PM

Comment

This is the first time I have posted here, although I have "lurked" for awhile - and truly owe thanks to those who post so thoughtfully and reflectively every week. You have inspired me more than once!

This Sunday we are celebrating Scout Sunday in our church, and the readings for this week are leading me to reflect on the possible pitfalls of honest leadership. When I see those young people, my inclination is to exhort them to always strive to be true to themselves, to be honest, to be willing to go against what is popular if it means doing what they feel is right. And yet, I have to wonder how often I have sidestepped opportunities to do these very things in the pulpit because of concerns about offending some of the people in the pews.

Weary, your words touched my heart and prompted me to post. Most of the pastors I know are trying their best to be faithful to their call to proclaim the gospel and care for their congregations. I cannot imagine the pain of having that rejected. My prayers are with you.

RevMary in Illinois


Date: 1/27/2004
Time: 3:38:00 AM

Comment

It takes courage and guts to stand before your hometown and proclaim, "I have the words of everlasting life."

But didn't we see you in nappies (diapers)? Didn't we play with you in the dirt of the street? Didn't we see you struggling to read, and speak even the most basic of words? Didn't you go to school with my little Tommy? He doesn't profess to being the saviour.

It takes guts and courage to stand before a congregation and proclaim the gospel, when people know that you are a human being! Whether that be your hometown or after you have lived in a parish for 2 - 3 years.

People see only the person.

They very rarely see the truth you are trying to offer them. They also almost always resent any suggestion that they have to change. It is much easier if one man should die, for the sake of the nation.

Weary, I had to leave a parish because of a hostile parishioner. I can't know your specific pain, but I do share something of the hurt and frustration you offer in your post. Can I offer, that it is more common than we would care to admit in the church.

I am cynical I know, but I now trust very few parishioners. Beware the mob, who one day cry "Hosanna" and the next day "Crucify him".

I still remain in the church by a thread of faith, but in the belief, that I have nowhere else to go.

Regards KGB


Date: 1/27/2004
Time: 4:30:16 AM

Comment

KGB,

Your words reminded me...

Jesus said, "Do you also wish to go away?

They answered, "Lord, to whom shall we go, you have the words of eternal life."

Often our depression does thin our faith to threads, but our Lord's words of eternal life remain, and we are compelled to share them, within the church, and to the outsiders. Keep the faith, we are in this with you.

Michelle


Date: 1/27/2004
Time: 4:32:21 AM

Comment

Weary of well-doing,

May the Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord make his face shine on you, and be gracious to you. The Lord lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace.

From your DPS friends


Date: 1/27/2004
Time: 5:17:08 AM

Comment

I am assuming our Lord's Mother, Mary, lived in this town in this community before Jesus came back and after this scene from Luke 4... I wonder how she treated those in her community? and how did they treat her?

Wondering, Hook


Date: 1/27/2004
Time: 6:38:51 AM

Comment

Unsigned poster - that was powerful - a sermon in itself.

Who are you?

Sally


Date: 1/27/2004
Time: 6:43:24 AM

Comment

weary -

my prayers, also, are with you.

Sally


Date: 1/27/2004
Time: 7:14:43 AM

Comment

With the start of Survivor this Sunday, I can't resist ...

"he got voted off the island!" "The tribe has spoken!"

a Survivor fan


Date: 1/27/2004
Time: 7:19:23 AM

Comment

I return to what I said last week: A serious part of Jesus' early theme was realized eschatology. It's in this text. It's in Mark "Repent! The kingdom of heaven is at hand." It's in Matthew in the Sermon on the Mount. "Blessed are..." not "blessed will be." Jesus calls people to look at the flowers of the field and the birds of the air to see and understand God's providence and love.

We live in a world (Christian world) that points to a kingdom of the not yet. What does it mean-- what dreams does it shatter-- to announce that God's kingdom is now available in the very midst of you-- that "Today, all this is fulfilled in your presence."

That's not a message that most people want to hear. People want and expect more. Because of that, they tend to ignore the bounty that God has already set before them.

My sermon last week set up the theme of realized eschatology. And there were some quizical looks, a bit of frustration, and a couple of comments-- "I've never looked at it that way before. God surely has been gracious, hasn't he?" However, that was the minority opinion.

It was not just the local boy. It's the message that he's preaching-- particularly when he isn't doing miracles in their midsts. Mark (6) and Matthew (13)focus more strongly on the hometown connection. ANd in both of them, it appears that he did do "some" or "a few" miraculous acts in their midst. It is only in Luke that the focus is on the content of his preaching and that seems to make that a focal point for preaching this Lukan text.

Anyway, those are my thoughts to this point.

West Texas Presbyterian


Date: 1/27/2004
Time: 7:51:12 AM

Comment

I also am coming at it from the standpoint of ordinary people as preachers. Okay, we all know that we're ordinary people, but our congregations don't see us that way and sometimes don't like to see us that way because it would challenge them. I am going to talk about the preaching of ordinary people and that it's the message that was important. I'm also thinking about blending in the Jeremiah text and doing a "Top Ten Excuses for not serving God" and bringing in Moses, Jeremiah, Zachariah, etc.

If it works, that is! This is my first post as well but I thank all of you for the several weeks of help I've gotten. Not answers, just inspiration. Peace, Beth in GA


Date: 1/27/2004
Time: 7:53:06 AM

Comment

Also, I forgot to add that although Jesus was not ordinary and was in fact the gospel personified, the people still could not hear the message because they couldn't see past the person. How common that is, and how common it is to not even be able to see past ourselves. Hope that clears things up a bit. Peace, Beth in GA


Date: 1/27/2004
Time: 8:16:43 AM

Comment

I am being drawn to the idea that Jesus "went on his way." He left them behind (a twist on the popular books). Someone posted this week about being left behind by A Christ who is moving forward. Are we moving forward with him? Here is a true story. Oscar was an 85 year old former butcher (they called him "butch"). He went to mass everyday and to the tavern three times a week. The tavern even had a "Butch" burger named after him. He would walk into the tavern and all would greet him, like "Norm" of Cheers fame. Butch was well loved. One day, as he struggled to get up the steps to the church for mass (his knees were shot from 20 years as a semi-pro catcher) a young priest said to him "Oscar, you have been faithful to this church and to Christ for so many years. There is no need for you to come everyday." (At 85 what Oscar heard and what was actually said may not have been the same thing.) So Oscar stopped attending mass, and no one from ST. Stephen's ever called to check up on him.

One day Butch was in the tavern and mentioned his roof was in disrepair. That weekend a crew of ten guys from the tavern tore off his roof and replaced it for the cost of materials only. When Butch's son died at 55 of a heart attack the tavern owner sent him a butch burger and a couple of cold beers as well as an employee and some tavern patrons to keep him company until his other son could arrive from out of state.

Christ had left that church behind, He had moved on to a tavern around the corner.

When Butch died, we all went to the tavern following the funeral to have butch burgers and a beer in his memory. The burgers were on the house, the mass at St. Stephen's had to be paid for.

RevIsrael


Date: 1/27/2004
Time: 8:22:01 AM

Comment

As an addendum to that story above...I don't mean it to sound as anti-Catholic as it does. It could have happened at any church of any denomination. It just so happened that Butch was Catholic..and my wife's grandfather. The story is all to true and all to sad.

RevIsrael


Date: 1/27/2004
Time: 12:00:45 PM

Comment

RevIsrael -- your story is heartbreaking -- and probably truer of more of our churches than we care to admit!

Blessings, Eric in OH


Date: 1/27/2004
Time: 12:40:18 PM

Comment

I'm toying with the idea that all three of the other lessons are about sharing one's faith with others (i.e., evangelism). Jeremiah is commissioned by God as a prophet, though only a boy, to go deliver God's word to the people. At the end of Ps. 71, vv. 15-17 read: "My mouth shall recount your mighty acts and saving deeds all day long; though I cannot know the number of them. I will begin with the mighty works of the Lord GOD; I will recall your righteousness, yours alone." (In the Episcopal Lectionary we use the whole of the psalm, or vv. 1-6 _and_ 15-17.) And then there's Paul admonishing those who speak in tongues not to do so if there is no interpreter available because the message will be lost on the stranger who would be unable to say "amen" to the speaker's words.

Three lessons about speaking God's word to the people. Then this Gospel about the results of speaking that word ... that is, rejection! Which is, frankly, often the result of any evangelism.

I once had a spiritual director who, whenever I complained about being badly treated by parishioners or bishops or fellow clergy or whomever, would say to me, "And how did they treat Jesus?" Basically, he was saying something like "Why should you expect to be treated any better by the powers of this world than the One who walked this way before and who promised you persecution and death if you follow him?"

That's a good question. And why should we (and our congregants) who try to speak the word of God to the world around us expect to have any better reception than th One who was the Word of God!?!?

Anyway -- that's sort of where my early-in-the-week thoughts are going....

Blessings, Eric in OH

17 O God, you have taught me since I was young, * and to this day I tell of your wonderful works.


Date: 1/27/2004
Time: 12:41:25 PM

Comment

Ooops ... my cutting and pasting didn't work so well and v. 17 of the psalm ended up at the end of my last entry. But you are all smart enough to figure that out, right? Sorry for the confusion, though.

Blessings, Eric in OH


Date: 1/28/2004
Time: 6:09:03 AM

Comment

Sometimes I think the only time you should start with family and neighbors is when you're selling Girl Scout cookies.

If I were a doctor setting up practice, I don't believe I would want to start my patient list with the people I had known my whole life. If I were a teacher, I would not want to start my career teaching at my old high school. It's too close, and it would be too hard to make the switch between the relationship as it was and how it needs to be now. It would be too easy to tell people what they want to hear from a friend, rather than what they need to hear from a person answering a call to serve the best way possible. It would also be too easy to accept shoddy work because of long-term friendship and desire to not cause a rift. Maybe later, after I got myself well established in my career, I could return home to work among my neighbors, if they still want me. If not, fine. There are others who will want me.

Even though I find terrific insight in the lines of thought offered by previous posts, I am also thinking along the line that Jesus HAD to go to Nazareth to let the family and friends know that he no longer belonged to them, but to all Israel, and indeed the world. "I'm not going to start my ministry with you because I know you too well. I will begin elsewhere. You can hear about the work I do, and when I come back to this area, you can decide for yourself whether you want to come hear me. Don't expect anything from me because I'm your neighbor; wait until you see what I will do. Assess my work based on my work, not on my friendship with you."

I'm not aware of many times when people followed Jesus because of what he MIGHT do for them, (outside of the 12 disciples, that is) but plenty of times when they followed because of what he had already done for them. We love because he first loved us, not because he might love us in the future.

Mid-week musings.

KyHoosierCat


Date: 1/28/2004
Time: 7:00:25 AM

Comment

KHC offered, "Even though I find terrific insight in the lines of thought offered by previous posts, I am also thinking along the line that Jesus HAD to go to Nazareth to let the family and friends know that he no longer belonged to them, but to all Israel, and indeed the world."

I actually laughed out loud ("LOL" you know) when I read this because it reminded me of the day I told my folks I was retiring from the practice of law after 15 years to become a priest. My stepdad and I had a knock-down-drag-out argument about it. My mother was not at all supportive, although not as angry as my dad; I learned later that she tried to get my brother, sister-in-law, and step-sister all to talk me out of it! LOL ... four years later, after seminary and year in the ordained diaconate, a few months after I was ordained to the presbyterate, I learned that my folks were attending "inquirers' classes" and preparing to be received and confirmed in the Episcopal Church (my mom was reared in the Disciples and my dad was an R.C. - both nonpracticing). When I asked about this, my mother said, "Well, I guess your serious about this so I should learn something about the Episcopal Church." She went on to become a very active member, office volunteer, secretary of the Episcopal Church Women, and a hostess in her parish's "reception guild". I think she was doing all the things she thought a priest's mother ought to do.... I wonder sometimes if Mary was the same way, doing all the things she thougha a Messiah's mother ought to do....

Blessings, Eric in OH


Date: 1/28/2004
Time: 7:01:07 AM

Comment

oops ... "your" = you're

E in OH


Date: 1/28/2004
Time: 8:19:50 AM

Comment

I don't know about you, but I already covered this passage last Sunday, not realizing the text would pick up at verse 21. Oh, well.

I may be mistaken, but I took it that Luke was "tongue-in-cheek" at the least when his hometown people "...all spoke well of him", especially after Jesus related the text to himself. And it may have been a literary device which Luke is famous for: Jesus was 'praised by everyone' as he preached in the Synagogues of Galilee...before coming home to Nazareth.

"The Year of the Lord's favor" was Jubilee: a gracious way to say 'revolution'?

Steve


Date: 1/28/2004
Time: 12:07:35 PM

Comment

A brief note of explanation -- my comments above about the Epistle Lesson are based on the Episcopal Lectionary which uses 1 Cor 14:12b-20 for that lesson instead of Ch. 13 used in the RCL.

Blessings, Eric in OH


Date: 1/28/2004
Time: 1:55:22 PM

Comment

along the lines of how families receive the news - whew! It's NOT easy, is it. My family is STILL trying to adjust to it, I think.

Yet, I "hear" the dilemma (how cliche) - my mom wanted me to say some words at my dad's funeral. I said "no," but I did read scripture (I Cor 13, ironically enough). Really only because it seemed important to her. For me, I just wanted to cry.

While that was grief and Jesus is talking about prophesy (or prophecy?), I sort of "feel" that awkwardness with him. If I'd have firmly refused to even read scripture, my mom would forever remember my dad's funeral as my not taking part in it and, while not filled with rage and disowning me, she'd have been mad.

Such are we when we expect to be served. Far be it from me to think for God (but I'm going to anyway) - maybe just maybe - it's in our expecting to be served, as if we somehow own it, that precipitates "the Divine No." Not necessarily that God says no because we're undeserving - because we ARE and that's the whole point of grace - but that when we expect much, when we presume ourselves to be entitled to healing or help or status or whatever, we become that much more aware ofwhat we DON't have rather than what we DO have. A theology of poverty, so to speak.

How much greater to have a theology of wealth - a theology modeled by the widow.

Thinking this through...and still haven't come up with anything truly preachable.

Sally in GA


Date: 1/28/2004
Time: 1:58:50 PM

Comment

to continue (sorry - thinking in soundbytes again)

therefore, when all were amazed at Jesus, they probably felt like "Cool! Home boy made good - and we've got 'im!" When Jesus says essentially that you can't really do ministry among your own kin, that made them mad. Shouldn't they be entitled to some Messianic help?

Sally


Date: 1/28/2004
Time: 2:47:09 PM

Comment

Dear "Weary"

You are in the best of company! Many (dare I say most?) pastors have experienced rejection in some form. Not all have been asked to leave a church, but Jesus was crucified for speaking truth. You still have a chance to speak, to reach other hearts with truth. I pray that you will receive blessing and strength while you sojourn in the wilderness, and that you come out stronger than ever before, ready and able to speak the truth in love. Blessings, RevJanet in CNY


Date: 1/29/2004
Time: 11:37:29 AM

Comment

To weary,

yes, I know it hurts. Been there. But take heart that the Lord has a better place for you. You are in my prayers. If you want to talk, feel free to email me at swmoriarty@earthlink.net.

Susan in Wa.


Date: 1/29/2004
Time: 1:26:21 PM

Comment

Weary - In listening to a colleague who had just been asked to leave her church, I found out that our denomination provides FREE counseling, something like 8 sessions, and then after that, the sessions cost $10 an hour. Obviously this is subsidized by our UM conference health insurance, and I'm grateful. I'm also a little incensed because I had no idea this was available when I went through the rejection bit and paid someone big bucks to hear what your dps friends are telling you now - that we are praying for you, that there are very few of us who have never gone through that, and if anyone knows your pain, Jesus does. Check the possibilities for denominational support, not just for easing your personal pain, but for gaining experience in understanding and dealing with congregational dynamics, which are sometimes really convoluted and dysfunctional. kbc in sc


Date: 1/29/2004
Time: 1:40:40 PM

Comment

My family wasn't angry about my call to ministry, but they were sure puzzled. Never would have thought it of me, I guess. But my "confirmation" from my parents came when my sister died. My mother looked me straight in the eye and said, "Will you officiate at her funeral?" I did, and am glad I did. When my mother died, my father asked me the same question. So, frankly, when I don't measure up to somebody's standard, I don't give it a second thought. I know that there are those who do honor the call I received many years ago - whether they are family, friends or parisoners. (Maybe this fits better with the Wedding at Cana - Jesus and Mary)

It's not just ministry, either. My brother was a poor student, at best. We all thought he'd get out of schoolhouses as fast as he possibly could. But now he's one terrific teacher, especially for those students who struggle with their lessons. Who would have guessed he could do that??

The calling comes from God. Let others say and think whatever they will, become angry, storm out or try to throw you out, the call must be answered to God's standards, not to satisfy the whims of the generally unhappy, twitchy people out there.

KHC


Date: 1/29/2004
Time: 3:54:09 PM

Comment

Is Jesus saying that ministry in your local environment doesn't work? How then, do we encourage our churches to not just sit in their pews but get out there and minister?

Perplexed


Date: 1/29/2004
Time: 6:42:02 PM

Comment

Perplexed,

This is not about the ability of the laity to pastorally minister to one another.

Jesus said, "Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet's hometown." This statement is about prophets. These are the people who draw people out of their comfort zones. Who challenge people to improve their position. Prophets are those who read the signs of the times and recognise the consequences of current attitudes and such.

It is not Jesus's pastoral ministry that is being rebuked, but his recognition that the people of Israel had been, and were, dysfunctional in their spiritual life. They were being bypassed by God's Spirit for people in places such as Sidon and Syria. (Considered pagan and condemned places by orthodox Jews)

Jesus was challenging them to come out of their apathetic and lukewarm approach to the gospel of God (which we read last week) They simply weren't living up to their part of the bargain and so they were in danger of being overlooked.

For people who think they are the favoured people of God, and they are truly righteous, there is only one response to make - they are offended at Jesus's inference.

It is the prophet they are wanted to hurl off the cliffs, because a prophet often strikes too close to the bone, to be simply ignored.

So I believe that laity can minister to each other in a pastoral way, but see what happens when one of them challenges the others in what they should be doing. As that person takes on prophetic aspirations, the others will respond in exactly the same way as they did with Jesus.

"Who are you to tell us???"

The pastorally caring priest will always be more popular than the prophetic one.

I hope I'm right in thinking that this might be what is causing your confusion. Please disregard if it isn't.

Thanks anyhow for the opportunity to respond.

Regards, KGB


Date: 1/29/2004
Time: 7:33:37 PM

Comment

Something in some of the comments triggered my memory of the old saw that an expert is someone who carries a briefcase, has a great slide show, and comes from more than 50 miles away.

How many of us have brought in facilitators for leadership retreats or workshops who don't say anything any different from what we have said to our congregations already? Yet, the message is heard more clearly when it comes from the outsider....

Isn't the same principal operative here? The "local boy" may say the same thing as the expert/prophet from far away, but we're not able or willing to hear it from the local fellow.

Is this because, as the shibboleth puts it, "familiarity breeds contempt"? Our knowledge of the speaker gets in the way of what he/she has to say. And when we are the speaker, others familiar with us have the same sort of barriers to hearing our words.

Blessings, Eric in OH


Date: 1/30/2004
Time: 2:14:14 AM

Comment

revgilmer in texarkana,

You made me laugh on a morning that I needed a laugh. I shall use the illustration of the pointer and the beaner on Sunday morning, for our church has those "immoveable" large oak chairs as well. Ever heard of Ry Cooder who played the slide guitar in the movie, "Paris, Texas"?

Pastor Bill in NC


Date: 1/30/2004
Time: 6:48:40 AM

Comment

When I preached on this text three years ago, I focused on God's call.. that God doesn't always choose the likely candidates (the good boys, who everyone says, "Isn't that nice" after they speak). When the people said "Isn't that nice?" Jesus got mad, because it was a sign that they didn't really hear the prophetic nature of what he was saying.

We have a shortage of pastors in our denomination. And as a church we are not cultivating the gifts of our young people enough... maybe because we tend to be prejudiced against the very people God may be calling. We're looking at the good boys and girls, not the ones who can throw tables, sneak away from the group at night, drink wine at parties and not be afraid of getting into trouble or questioning authority.

This time I'm going to focus more on the Bible stories Jesus told that got them angry: God appearing people who are outside their small world.

Our congregation is begining the discussion of whether to share our space with another congregation. There is a lot of resistance, based on past experiences as well as some stereotypes, and the discussion itself may shake us up. Are we ready to risk standing at the edge of the cliff? Say something that may get others angry? Expand our world, share our space, risk a relationship that may end up being more of a pain than a blessing (because that often happens when sharing space)?

I'll have to use the I Cor. passage with this, "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear."

love you all! DGinNYC


Date: 1/30/2004
Time: 7:19:36 AM

Comment

Hey, Eric in OH- This is totally off-topic and probably inappropriate for here, but which diocese are you in? The new Bishop of Ohio, Mark Hollingsworth, is a good friend of mine. He was my rector when I was a teenager and now I'm a transitional deacon. Then again, maybe this is relevant - could I ever serve in a diocese where the Bishop knew me as a child? Maybe not - anyone who could suffer through knowing me as a teenager and would be able to see me as a colleague would have to be a remarkably forgiving person. -Julie in MA


Date: 1/30/2004
Time: 9:50:34 AM

Comment

Hey, Julie in MA -- I'm in Mark's new diocese. In fact, I spent a couple of days with Mark and Sue (and a bunch of other clergy couples) just two weeks ago. And in a few days, I will be meeting with a committee of other clergy to plan his consecration and ordination as our bishop.

Could you serve with a bishop who knew you as a child? Sure. Why not? Many of us have.

Blessings, Eric in OH


Date: 1/30/2004
Time: 11:57:38 AM

Comment

I think I have an idea for why the people in the synagog went into such a rage.

First of all some background. I read somewhere that Galilee had a mixed Jewish and Gentile population. Perhaps there were the same kinds of tensions in Galilee that exist in Israel/Palestine, or Ireland, or Bosnia, or...

Jews of that day, as we all know, wanted nothing to do with Gentiles. Gentiles were not the chosen people, so many (most?) looked down on Gentiles. The tension between them must have been great.

Then here comes a perfectly good Jewish boy to remind them that God helped Gentiles and ignored Jews. In effect, He was telling them that God loved(those hated, enemy) Gentiles at least as much as He loved Jews and that the two were equal. A modern day parallel might be a good Jewish boy in modern Israel saying in his synagog that God loved the Palestinians at least as much as the Jews and that the two were equal. Can you feel the rage? Or, in the 1960's, imagine a white boy standing up in his segregationist church and saying the God loved Blacks at least as much as whites and that the two were equal. For those of us old enough to remember, it is not hard to imagine the kind of rage that would have produced. You can go all over the world and see the same scenario. You can see it right at home. There is a retired neighbor who mows his lawn sometimes twice a day. I'm fortunate if I can mow my lawn once a week. My neighbor thinks I am some kind of scum when it comes to mowing grass. He wouldn't go into a rage over something this small, but he would certainly snort his displeasure if someone told him that in God's eyes, we were just as good. He knows he's better than me. I am, of course, just as arrogant, especially toward those who are as arrogant as I am. It has always puzzled me that those who are tolerant become most intolerant of the intolerant.

My point is that we can understand the rage of that First Century synagog by understanding whatever kind of prejudices we have in us that produce rage in us when we are challenged. Then, when we see our sin (which ultimately is the same as theirs), we can hear the Good News that Jesus has come to set us free from all such "irrelevancies" as sin, death and the power of the devil...and even my arrogance...and has opened a whole new way of dealing with each other: through love. It's jsut an idea. What do you think? LB in MN


Date: 1/30/2004
Time: 3:13:58 PM

Comment

This is terribly late to be making a contribution (computer virus trouble is just another way of being tested, an opportunity for spiritual growth!) but I am going to work with this little insight: those that we think are outside the grace of God are not as "out" as we think, and those who think they have an "in" with God are not as "in" as they think.

On another occasion, I quipped that we don't really have all that much trouble understanding why bad things happen to good people, but we get really upset when good things happen to bad people! Of course, we want the messiah who is "one of our own" to take care of us first, so we get upset when Jesus tells us that God's love isn't based on favoritism, but grace. We have to be careful that we don't choose the benefits over our Benefactor!

OLAS


Date: 1/30/2004
Time: 3:18:53 PM

Comment

I have been reading this wonderful forum for over a year, but have never responded until today. I would like to throw into the mix what I have read in both the New Interp. and Keeping Holy Time about the image of "Exclusion Excludes the Excluder" Any Comments" Diana from OK


Date: 1/30/2004
Time: 3:19:16 PM

Comment

LB in MN, I think you're on the right track.

Weary, One thing this passage teaches is that walking away is sometimes necessary for the survival of the preacher, and it's way okay for the preacher to survive. It also indicates that walking away doesn't signal a failure on the preacher's part.

JKS


Date: 1/30/2004
Time: 10:42:55 PM

Comment

Dear Weary,

I am a new rector in a small parish who asked their former rector to leave (after having had many happy years with him). A good friend of mine was also asked to leave her congregation. This has happened to many good people, good pastors. You are not alone, and most of us know how vulnerable we are. Please know that you are in our prayers. God will call you elsewhere. Take time to heal and know that you are loved and your life has a purpose.

Blessings,

KYWolverine


Date: 1/31/2004
Time: 6:52:46 AM

Comment

I always enjoy your insights and comments. They help stir my own ideas. Last week, with the first part of the Gospel portion, I preached on "Takeing the Good News Home". This week will be, in Paul Harvey's words, "The Rest of the story", although I've toyed with the topics: "The Bad News About the Good News" [that is, it is not 'exclusive' to any one group but open to all!] I understand how everyone was thrilled to see and hear the hometown boy preach his first sermon in the synagogue (I timed it, strictly following the Gospel text it lasted all of 47 seconds!). Even so, when Jesus pointed out how God had worked in past days - reaching out and touching 'outsiders'--- he got quite a response from the congregation. How dare He imply (no so subtly I might add) that others were more deserving than they!? Could it be that they thought themselves especially deserving because, after all, they were the 'home-town crew'? Elsewhere one of the other Gospel writers points out that "he could do no miracles there because of their lack of faith". I think that also ties in to this passage. I'll be taking the direction that anyone who thinks they are specially worthy and deserving is in for a shock when they hear the Good News. It is only those who sense and acknowledge their own unworthiness who can receive the precious gift. Thanks again for all your insights! P.T. in East Ohio


Date: 1/31/2004
Time: 7:53:03 AM

Comment

OLAS - I like your comment about "taking care of us first." It speaks EXACTLY to a running frustration with my current appointment. A man who frequently says in that negative-sounding tone of voice he so often uses, "Why won't the conference help us little churches out instead of starting new ones?"

Well, comes a seminar that I OFFERED TO PAY FOR so all anyone had to sacrifice was a few hours - and, surprise, surprise (not) - he refuses to go. Seems like he wants someone to do it for him.

He has put the breaks on quite a few things. He has a voice in the congregation that indicates that if he doesn't want it, no one else is allowed to want it, either (Disciple Bible study, or opening up the church for one - only one - community meeting).

Someone else also mentioned about the shortage of clergy. Some of it has to do with - no matter how old the clergyperson gets, he/she is still going to be younger than their congregation/s (for the most part, anyway) Some older folks simply don't lend a lot of credibility to younger folks. I've been told countless times, in one way or another, that as soon as I get older I'll understand and be like the older folks. I watch our Sunday school classes go round and round on the EXACT SAME issues every week. It can be frustrating.

Yet ... this can be the most loving, come-to-your-help-when-you-need-it group of people I've ever known. This is the group who rallied around me during my knee surgery a year ago. This is the group who will take up an offering for someone they don't know - and who'll gather food for someone in need and more than supply their pantry.

Sally


Date: 1/31/2004
Time: 8:14:05 AM

Comment

To: weary of doing well, I hear your pain. Since I'm new to this clergy thing, I don't have a take on it from that perspective. However, I watched my home congregation attack one of the best pastors we ever had. They attacked and finally chased her out. These are people I grew up with, those I trusted and loved. I had no idead they could be so meanspirited. It took me a long time to learn to care for them, well, some of them. and I may never trust them fully again. Please know I will keep you in my prayers. You will grow to trust another congregation. I did. C2 in WS


Date: 1/31/2004
Time: 8:17:08 AM

Comment

Beth in GA, did you come up with a list of "top ten excuses"???? Would love to see it!

Rick in Canada, eh?


Date: 1/31/2004
Time: 10:50:55 AM

Comment

Thanks to those of you who inspired this:

I am beginning with someone's contribution about the hardest thing about being a Christian is understanding how good things happen to bad people and ending with another contribution about learning to love by being loved first.

In between I am focusing on the parrallel between Jesus statement on the cross: "Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." and the end of this passage: "he passed through the midst of them and went on his way".

In other words Gods love makes it possible to forgive those that get in our way to true relationship with one another and with God.


Date: 1/31/2004
Time: 11:00:25 AM

Comment

above by Fr Sully


Date: 1/31/2004
Time: 2:41:42 PM

Comment

This is pretty late, but I have been thinking about "Butch." I wonder if the priest thought he was being kind, lifting a burden from Butches tired knees? Why did Butch hear it as a reason to stay away? If the bar owner had said, "You have been a really faithful custormer over the years, Butch. You really don't have to come every day (or whatever) Would Butch have heard it the same way, and never darkened the bar's doorway again?

It is odd that no one from the church ever checked on Butch.... Perhaps he had not attended out of love for God ... but duty.... Perhaps he did not feel loved in the congregation.... Of all places not to feel loved.... or to love....

Max in NC


Date: 1/31/2004
Time: 3:00:51 PM

Comment

For my part, I've written a sermon about evangelism, because the lessons in the Episcopal Lectionary that are tied to this (same except forthe epistle) seem to lead me in that direction, taking from the Gospel lesson this: when one's ministry is rejected, the thing to do is move on, which is what Jesus does here.

The sermon is now on-line at

http://www.thefunstons.com/sermons/c020104.html

Blessings, Eric in OH


Date: 1/31/2004
Time: 3:01:57 PM

Comment

To "Weary" and wary and all of you good folks--I thought I'd send you a quotation out of an article on this Gospel (at www.thewitness.org): “The Emmaus story is a remarkable one and serves as a sort of bookend to this one that addresses the beginning of Jesus' ministry. In today's story, hearts burned as well, but to a different effect, a burning of rage, rejecting Jesus' interpretation of the scriptures. Here the crowd refuses to see as Jesus sees and seeks to be rid of him. The reaction is very important to Luke, so important that he literally invents a cliff outside of Nazareth over which the crowd wishes to throw Jesus. There is no cliff outside of Nazareth.” I think, though, that maybe there was a "cliff" inside of Nazareth--just as there is in our hearts and souls...in our congregations and communities. And I guess that if we're really living and/or "preaching" the Gospel, it's amazing that all of us aren't strung up. As my old friend always says, "you pays your money and you takes your chances!" Yikes. Blessings to all, Fr. Tom, OCW


Date: 1/31/2004
Time: 8:12:13 PM

Comment

Weary

You are also in my prayers... I have recently been "attacked" by someone who I had helped and supported in a variety of ways... I had supported this person and their family when they were harrased over and over again by long time members of the church I pastor... I preach a lot about unconditional love and it sure makes some people mad at me... I don't know of any nearby cliffs or someone would probably get an idea from this text for me... - Also weary from the flats of Iowa


Date: 1/31/2004
Time: 9:09:20 PM

Comment

I think it has already been said, but what struck me at the last second while writing my sermon was that "Jesus continued on His way." He could have died that day, knowing that he was to die anyway, but his ministry would not have been as effective. He could have become discouraged and quit. "IF my friends do not accept me, then what use is it?" After almost being thrown from a cliff, Jesus continued on his way. I think we often get discouraged and loose our way, but we must "continue on our way" just like Jesus.

Nebraska Nick


Date: 1/31/2004
Time: 10:00:45 PM

Comment

Fr. Tom, do you know Mickey? He is the only one I have ever heard that saying from.

Rick in Canada, here are the top 10 things you never hear in church that are being sent around the internet, don't know if you will get them since it is so late, sorry! They are not the excuses, but can be used with this. I will see if I can find the others, I have them somewhere, too.

BTW, these are all separated now, and neat, but who knows what will happen when I send them? Blessings! Toni

10 Things You Never Hear in Church

1. Hey! It's my turn to sit in the front pew!

2. I was so enthralled, I never noticed your sermon went 25 minutes over time.

3. Personally I find witnessing much more enjoyable than golf.

4. I've decided to give our church the $500 a month I used to send to TV evangelists.

5. I volunteer to be the permanent teacher for the Junior High Sunday School class.

6. Forget the denominational minimum salary. Let's pay our pastor so he can live like we do.

7. I love it when we sing hymns I've never heard before!

8. Since we're all here, let's start the service early.

9. Pastor, we'd like to send you to this Bible seminar in the Bahamas.

10. Nothing inspires me and strengthens my commitment like our annual stewardship campaign!


Date: 1/31/2004
Time: 10:05:14 PM

Comment

HOORAY!! Found them!


Date: 1/31/2004
Time: 10:06:45 PM

Comment

HOORAY!! Found them! Top Ten Excuses Why I Don't Go to Church...(or synogogue, mosque or temple...)

10. I can't find a polyester leisure suit anywhere

9. I'm more comfortable sleeping in my bed than in a pew

8. I'm allergic to Holy water.

7. I already served time as a child.

6. The combination of perfumes and incense can make you pass out or go blind.

5. Listening to organ music makes me crave peanuts and popcorn and Crackerjax.

4. I can only remember three of the Ten Commandments.

3. The wine they serve is not a very good vintage.

2. Sitting in church does not guarantee that you'll be sitting in heaven later.

And the number one reason why I don't go to church....

1. I feel guilty enough already.