Wednesday, June 13, 2018

"Lines at the Border, Is on-demand culture changing us?, Methodist House Churches" from Ministry Matters in Nashville, Tennessee, United States

"Lines at the Border, Is on-demand culture changing us?, Methodist House Churches" from Ministry Matters in Nashville, Tennessee, United States



Lines at the Border by Dottie Escobedo-Frank
Yesterday the high in Ambos Nogales was 100 degrees. It's a dry heat, which means that you don’t have warning when your body has sweated out all its water, and dehydration sneaks up on you quickly. Especially if you don’t know survival skills in the desert. Especially if you are old and frail, or very young.
And on that 100 degree day I crossed the line at the Nogales border into Mexico with my friends, Maritza Aguilar and Genesis Velazquez. I wanted to see the waiting lines of people for myself. We had heard that they were unable to cross quickly while seeking asylum, and that some were waiting for seven days at the border. These lines are filled with young children. When we arrived in the morning, we heard that the night before they moved families to local shelters, giving them a number so they could return to the border line. There were about 20-30 people in the line that were waiting (they hadn’t gone to a shelter because they were next). The children were listless, and the moms and dads were exhausted.

As we passed out UMCOR hygiene kits to them, we heard their grateful responses and saw the look in their eyes. Their eyes begged the question, “Am I going to make it across, or will I die here at this border after all that we went through to get here?” My heart was moved as I heard their stories of struggle (la lucha) and their prayers for safety. It was hard to leave them. I wanted to just sit down, lay on the ground with them, and sing them a song of comfort.
But we left and went to two of the shelters, delivering more hygiene kits and hearing of the needs. The people and churches in Nogales, Mexico are stepping up big time to care for these travelers who are stranded in their country. What amazed me is that the poorest of the poor are reaching out generously to care for others who are suffering even more. Their engagement brought me to my knees. We have much to learn from them.
Last night I had trouble sleeping. As I tossed in my nightmares, nightmares of children sleeping outside in the heat, I prayed — well it was more like soul-wailing — that we in this country could open our eyes, our hearts, and our resources to help.
There ARE some ways to help. You can call your representatives in Congress and demand humane treatment. You can ask if they are removing children from their parents and require a stop to that barbaric behavior. You can donate to shelters in Nogales, Sonora. You can give to The Inn Project, or UMCOR, or any group you know is stepping up. You can send basic items to El Mesias United Methodist Church in Nogales, Arizona. They will be God’s hands and feet for you as they deliver diapers, baby formula, underwear of all sizes, and socks.
We all can give money and resources. But what is needed most is for us to raise all holy hell and storm the gates to demand that we treat humans and children with the respect and dignity that is required of civilized societies. It is time to shout out when we read things like this and say to the powers-that-be: STOP! Children seeking safety are turned away. Children are being ripped from their mother and father’s arms. Children are being sent to detention. These things require a response from all persons of faith, and all persons with a heart of compassion.
Today it is cooler on the border. The high will be 98 degrees. It's a dry heat.
"Lines at the Border" originally appeared on RevDottie.org. Reprinted with permission.



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Is on-demand culture changing us? by Jeanne Torrence Finley
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“Not a Lick Smarter”
Back in 2011, comedian Pete Holmes announced to his audience on the Conan show that he had an iPhone, adding, “I have Google on my phone now. . . . It’s ruining life because we know everything, but we’re not a lick smarter for it. . . . You don’t know something? Wait two seconds. You will know! Having Google on your phone is like having a drunk know-it-all in your pocket. There’s no time for mystery or wonder. . . . The time between not knowing and knowing is so brief that . . . life is meaningless.”
In the past decade, we’ve seen an explosion in what might be called “on-demand” culture. Whenever we want, we can watch practically any movie ever made on Netflix or Amazon Prime; we can see what our friends and acquaintances are up to from minute to minute through their most recent Facebook, Twitter and Instagram posts; and we can text or email anyone in our contact list whenever the feeling hits us, whether they live down the street or on the other side of the earth. We can use an app on our phones to get a ride from a stranger or order meals and have groceries delivered to our house. In certain zip codes, Amazon offers same-day delivery, but who needs that when a credit card and one click can download a book instantly to Kindle?
Research indicates that this culture of convenience and constant access has changed us. As people of faith, we’re challenged to understand how these cultural shifts have changed who we are and to figure out how to respond to these changes in keeping with our traditions and our values.
How does on-demand culture affect us?
The benefits of these changes are obvious. Used judiciously, on-demand culture can save us time and perhaps even money. The liabilities, on the other hand, are less obvious. We may well use all the time and money we save to do more “on-demanding” and in the process hurt both our character and our relationships. A February 2, 2013, article in The Boston Globe titled “Instant Gratification Is Making Us Perpetually Impatient” indicates that the Pew Research Center’s Internet & American Life Project studied people under the age of 35 who led “hyperconnected lives” and concluded, “Negative effects include a need for instant gratification and loss of patience.”
Darrell Worthy, an assistant professor of psychology at Texas A&M University, found that our society is becoming more likely to play a computer game on their phones than to read books or magazines, a conclusion in line with the Pew study. “A lot of things that are really valuable take time,” Worthy said in the Globe article. “But immediate gratification is the default response. It’s difficult to overcome those urges and be patient and wait for things to come over time.” In other words, our use of technology may help us do things more quickly, but at the expense of depth and meaning.
Nicholas Carr, author of the 2010 best seller The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains, writes in his book, “When we go online, we enter an environment that promotes cursory reading, hurried and distracted thinking, and superficial learning.” Carr continues, “The ability to skim text is every bit as important as the ability to read deeply. What is different, and troubling, is that skimming is becoming our dominant mode of reading.” It may also be true that skimming has become our dominant mode of being.
Writer and Sojourners website editor Sandi Villarreal asks in a 2014 post, “When does our reliance upon a constant stream of multi-channel entertainment and instant gratification become harmful?” She argues, “Our cling to convenience is an obvious . . . stumbling block to spiritual growth. . . . Gluttony is not a sin reserved for the portly; it is the reality of a culture that emphasizes overconsumption and steals our attention away from relationships — especially our relationship with God.”
In different words, these writers are all sounding the same alarm. All of them are warning that what we lose in our on-demand culture is significant: the ability to wait patiently, the ability to think deeply, the capacity to form and nurture relationships with others and with God. Its downside is captured in Pete Holmes’s statement about how our on-demand “information” culture allows no time to contemplate mystery or wonder, thus rendering our lives meaningless.
How do we respond?
A desire for wonder and mystery is a good place to start counteracting our on-demand culture, especially when the 24/7 cycle of news and information is instantly available through our smartphones and social media offers us a constant forum to chat about it. In a 2017 Sojourners post, Joe Kay writes of how he is drained by the daily recital of injustice: “A sense of fatigue sets in on those of us who feel a divine call to protect the vulnerable, fight injustice, and treat God’s creation as sacred.” He says that this “background noise . . . can slowly drain our energy, inspiration, and courage if we allow it to happen. We need daily moments of awe and wonder to rejuvenate and recharge us — especially now.”
Jesus modeled for us the value of taking time for solitude, contemplation and prayer in the midst of his public ministry. He took time for moments of awe and wonder and recommended the same to his disciples: “Notice how the lilies in the field grow. They don’t wear themselves out with work, and they don’t spin cloth. But I say to you that even Solomon in all of his splendor wasn’t dressed like one of these” (Matthew 6:28b-29).
Franciscan priest Richard Rohr, founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation in Albuquerque, New Mexico, calls contemplation “a positive choosing of the deep, shining, and enduring divine mysteries that are hidden beneath the too-easy formulas.” Among those enduring mysteries are love, creation, beauty, justice, and wisdom, none of which can be reduced to mere information. Rohr says that in contemplative prayer, “we let go of habitual thoughts and sensations and connect with an Inner Witness (Romans 8:16)—God’s presence within — that gazes back at ourselves and out at reality with an Abiding Love.”
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Methodist House Churches: An Introduction by Dave Barnhart

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Evangelism Through House Churches
When I started planting a church, I knew that I wanted to reach “the nones and the dones,” those who had been turned off to organized religion in general, or to church culture specifically. Although we began as a conventional church plant, we shifted to a house church model about two years ago after we learned that some folks are more likely to accept an invitation to dinner than an invitation to a church building. Since then, both of our original house churches have given birth to others, and I’m hopeful that those four will become eight. So far, the average length of time it takes one of our house churches to birth another (the “gestational period”) is about 16 months.
I’ve come to see house churches as a potentially vital part of the inevitable sifting and sorting that will soon happen in my denomination. Regardless of how things shake out at the called session of the United Methodist General Conference in 2019, conflict over the inclusion of LGBTQ persons in churches has already had a high human cost. According to research by the Public Religion Research Institute in 2014, one-third of millennials who have left their childhood religion cited anti-gay attitudes as being important in their leaving. This is born out by hundreds of one-to-one conversations I’ve had with nones and dones. I’ve also talked to several LGBTQ-friendly Methodists who no longer feel welcome in Wesleyan Covenant Association churches.
While some LGBTQ persons and allies choose to stay and fight for visibility and a place at the table in non-affirming churches, many Methodists are left spiritually homeless as congregations solidify their stances and people realize they or their views are unwelcome in certain contexts. They often do not telegraph their disappointment to their pastors; they simply drop out. While in urban areas, progressive, LGBTQ-affirming churches are easy to come by, the pickings are slimmer in rural areas, and many folks do not even know alternatives exist. For this reason, I believe house churches may be a viable way to reach folks who might otherwise abandon church altogether.
In an attraction-based, building-centered church, we church professionals focus on growing attendance by adding bodies to a worship event. We do a lot of advertising, come up with relevant sermon series topics, and beg members to invite their neighbors and friends. Growth of ten percent is considered huge. By contrast, house churches may only add one or two new individuals or families a year, but this represents an enormous percentage increase when multiplied across many house churches.
But the impressive growth in house churches happens not when we add bodies to a service, but when we add a whole new house church to our connection. It is not uncommon when we birth a new house church for us to bring in two or three new committed households at a time, plus a number of other curiosity-seekers and attendees.
Pros and Cons
House churches have several things going for them:

  • They are great for discipleship, fostering intimacy, and building community.
  • Collaborative, grassroots house churches can help heal the wounds inflicted by hierarchical, authoritarian churches.
  • They are often intergenerational, with children and youth taking important roles in worship.
  • If they are started well, they are inherently evangelistic and welcoming.
  • They may be attractive to folks who find large crowds and large buildings off-putting.
  • They invite discussion and leadership development.
  • With attention, they can be networked into the connectional system.
  • They are cheap to start and run, since there are no buildings to maintain. 
House churches have these potential drawbacks:
  • It is hard to develop comprehensive children and student programs.
  • They are time- and energy-intensive for the pastor.
  • They can be relationally messy, since they can attract strong personalities and emotionally needy or hurt people.
  • If they are not started and nurtured well, they can become internally-focused and cliquish.
  • Some people may be uncomfortable about visiting a private residence, or they may prefer the anonymity of a larger church.
  • Without attention, they can become isolated from a larger connection.
  • Though they are cheap to start and run, they may have difficulty supporting professional full-time clergy.
The house church is not a one-size-fits-all model. There are economies of scale and specific advantages that large churches have. But for the first three hundred years of its existence, the Jesus movement had no dedicated buildings, and it grew like wildfire. Likewise, the early Methodist movement thrived through class meetings and small, missional churches that often met in homes. Francis Asbury, one of the first bishops of Methodism, lamented that Methodists grew more and more fixated on building large buildings.
“Methodism” has a distinctive theology, but we acquired the name because it was our practices that set us apart more than our beliefs. Like the early Methodist movement, house churches focus on how we practice being the church together instead of the facilities or programs we offer. It is a shift from consumer-driven religion to communal and collaborative faith. A network of house churches functions much like an early-Methodist circuit, in which Circuit Riders, appointed as traveling missionaries, would disciple multiple small communities.
How Do We Start a House Church?
There are many books on house churches, but they are often written from the perspective of conservative non-denominational authors that clash with my Methodist theology and heritage. For example, one popular house church book insists that real biblical house churches need to be run by men, and that those men represent “non-hierarchical” leadership. Others insist house churches are the only truly “early church” way of following Jesus together.
I view house churches through a different lens: this is one model among many, and every house church is a new expression of the indigenous culture. Like a sower casting seed, a church planter can start many different house churches. Some may fail and some may thrive, depending on the soil in which they land, but there will be a harvest nonetheless. The planter of house churches focuses on practices, not programs, and developing a “staff” of lay leadership instead of professional full-time employees. House churches are like leaven, mustard weeds, or a virus: they stay simple in order to reproduce fast, instead of growing larger and more complex.
Indigenous expression means they adapt to the needs of the local community. Some of our house churches are centered around a common meal. Some are not. Some like singing. Some do not. Some have lots of kids who require us to find ways to incorporate them into worship. Others have few or no kids, or only require child care during worship.
In this blog series, I plan to address several aspects of planting house churches. If you have experience with house churches, Methodist on not, I’m also interested in hearing your reflections as well. The topics I plan to address are:

  1. Introduction to Methodist House Churches
  2. The Basics of Organizing House Churches
  3. Leadership Development (Discipleship) in House Churches
  4. House Church Homiletics
  5. Intergenerational Worship and Children in House Churches
  6. Inviting and Recruiting in House Churches
  7. Group Dynamics in House Churches
  8. Maintaining Connections Among House Churches
  9. Economics of House Churches
  10. Future Possibilities for House Churches (conclusion)
My hope is that if people feel alienated from their Methodist churches due to theology, politics, or polity, they will not simply drop out, but will organize to create new churches. Living things take advantage of a changing environment, or they die. Historically, schism has sometimes been a catalyst for evangelistic growth. There are many people who are hungry for Good News which is really good news, and we Methodists have a viable structure, missional history, and disciple-making paradigm that could make house churches a powerful witness in the next century.

Kara Faris: 'Divergent churches' are exploring innovative ways of congregational life
By Kara Faris Faith & Leadership

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This was first published in Faith & Leadership.
Dinner churches, cowboy churches, farm-to-table gatherings and much, much more. Across the United States, new and alternative ways of congregational life are emerging.
Tim Shapiro and Kara Faris of the Center for Congregations in Indianapolis took a close look at a dozen of these creatively different congregations in their new book, “Divergent Church: The Bright Promise of Alternative Faith Communities.”
As the book’s subtitle suggests, the two found much to admire, Faris said.
“Today, the spiritual and congregational landscape in the United States is such that somebody’s got to innovate and take some risks and try to figure out how to make Christian life relatable,” she said.
The congregations she and Shapiro studied are doing just that, she said.
“They haven’t given up. They are driven by something outside of themselves to try this unusual thing.”
Although traditional forms of church are still greatly needed, “there are other ways,” Faris said.

"Divergent Church: The Bright Promise of Alternative Faith Communities" (Abingdon Press, 2017). Order here: http://bit.ly/DivergentChurch
Shapiro is the president of the Center for Congregations, and Faris, the center’s resource grants director and a resource consultant to congregations.
Faris spoke recently with Faith & Leadership about their book. The following is an edited transcript.
Q: Tell us about the research that you and Tim Shapiro did for the book, and what you mean by “divergent church.”
We spent a little over a year identifying congregations that, at first, we didn’t call “divergent.” We called them “innovative” or “alternative” — people who were doing something unusual and noteworthy in the congregational world but didn’t have a name for it.
We had different ways of finding them. Some were just Google searches for keywords like “creative church” or “unusual congregations” or “alternative congregations.”
We also asked people if they knew of any congregations that were doing things that were very nontraditional but still served the function of a congregation for the participants. By that we meant in some way providing spiritual formation, a connection to other people, having some sort of cohesive gathering or sense of identity, but maybe it didn’t look like a traditional church.
We ended up finding 12 congregations that ranged from what looked like pretty traditional worship gatherings to gatherings that didn’t look at all like a congregation. But they all had in common what we call “church plus” —church plus something else.
One example is Galileo Church in Texas. They meet on Sunday evenings for a worship service that is liturgical. They don’t have a bulletin, but there’s an order of service and hymns and prayers. It’s very handcrafted, with a lot written by their worship team rather than using the denomination’s worship book or hymnal.
They’re part of the Disciples of Christ but are very consciously a Christian worship space that is about LGBTQ people and issues. That’s the “plus” part of who they are.
I went to their Sunday worship, and it’s very novel. It’s beautiful. It’s in a nontraditional space that they rent, which alone isn’t revolutionary or different. But their intentional focus on one particular slice of human experience — the LGBTQ experience — is their “plus.”
Another example is Simple Church in Grafton, Massachusetts. They’re a house church and a dinner church — which, again, isn’t new. They have a liturgy that flows with essentially a potluck meal, so it’s a nontraditional worship experience.
But they’ve had to figure out how to be financially sustainable with a membership of 40 people. Because they were so homespun about everything they were doing, and because they are located on a farm, they started incorporating food into everything they do.
They made a conscious effort to be a farm-to-table church. Their focus is on the ethics of food and how we eat, and how we eat together. They have homed in on that.
But as they baked bread for communion, people noticed that it was exceptionally good. So they started selling it, and now a large portion of their budget comes from selling bread. They’re going to spin off a separate bread-baking business, and they’re moving into pizza making.
That doesn’t distract them from being a worshipping community, but it provides a vehicle for generating revenue and income beyond passing the plate.
That’s new. And it allows them to engage with their town and their neighbors by selling at a farmers market, and they’ve parlayed that into summer internships for kids in the juvenile correctional system in their area.
The “plus” part for them is the bread and the farming. Without it, they would be a dinner church that rents a space. They have incorporated their entire reason for existence into this other, “plus” aspect of what they do.
Q: The book says that whatever form these congregations might take, very traditional Christian practices are at their core. Tell us about that.
We revisited the work by Craig Dykstra and Dorothy Bass on practice. We did a lot of work on spiritual practices and named quite a few — things like eating together, welcoming the stranger, and music, which we’ve expanded into broader and creative practices.
Some of these practices are a natural part of the DNA of the Christian tradition but maybe, over time, have lost the sense of feeling like deeply spiritual practices.
Eating together is a simple one to explain. You don’t need a big program about food for eating together to be a spiritual practice, but it does require an intentional awareness of what we’re doing when we sit down together.
Welcoming the stranger is another. For cowboy church, the stranger may be the person who’s out at the horse pavilion who happens to smoke, which is verboten, however moderately, in some strains of Christianity. In other divergent congregations, expected cultural norms lose their significance in light of the “church plus” and other key congregational values.
In other words, adherence to moralistic cultural norms isn’t the pivot point upon which a person’s welcome depends.
Q: What’s the role of innovation in these churches?
Built into the word “innovation” is a sense of risk taking. Major companies recognize the need to take risks. They know there will be risk and failure and learning, but it’s in pursuit of some long-term goal — profit or perfecting a craft or something — so the risk is accepted.
But in the religion world, we don’t have a place to give permission for risk taking in the way that some of these innovative clergy do. They are willing to take the risk of, for example, being criticized by their denominational counterparts or by others in the Christian world.
I respect the heck out of their willingness to take a risk. They’re not getting a whole lot out of it. These aren’t big, fancy places. They don’t have big salaries. Some are sticking around long enough and meeting traditional metrics of success, like people in the seats and dollars in the bank.
But it is a conundrum. You can talk about welcoming the stranger, but if you don’t have a viable model to pay for the cowboy pastor, how do you make it happen? In the religion world, that sense of innovation doesn’t happen on such a formalized level.
People can be skeptical: “This is a flash in the pan and isn’t lasting. How are they successful? Show me their metrics.”
Part of my response to that is, yes, it looks different and it’s innovative. It might even seem kooky, and it may not last. But what they’re doing is deeply rooted in tried-and-true faith practices.
Today, the spiritual and congregational landscape in the United States is such that somebody’s got to innovate and take some risks and try to figure out how to make Christian life relatable.
Q: The book says that “meaning making” is one the most deeply innovative aspects of these churches but that many congregations today are so focused on surviving, they’ve lost the ability to do that. Speak some to that.
My hunch is that for many congregations, everything worked well in a different generation, where institutions matched the social fabric. There was a social capital that matched the world that people experienced in their work and in their social life.
That memory gets ingrained and passes from generation to generation but doesn’t get updated. So many congregations get in this pickle where their numbers are dwindling. They’ve got this rich history and a great facility, but they’re in a quagmire about how to stay alive.
Even if they have enough money, they may lack vitality or purpose or identity. They can genuinely want to figure it out and be relevant, but it’s hard to dislodge people from an ingrained way of being.
You get good at doing what you know. It’s not that it’s bad, but they haven’t found a compelling reason to do something different.
Q: What does all this mean for churches, now and in the future? What are the lessons we can learn from divergent churches?
First, if the people featured in “Divergent Church” all fold in a few years, I would see that as a natural evolution of humans figuring out the best way to survive. All these people are tinkering around and doing unusual stuff out of a sense of great conviction.
Even if [their churches] all die, it is still a necessary part of the organism renewing itself. Somebody’s got to do it. It’s a natural function. Certain cells die off; certain cells get rejuvenated. It’s a natural, basic function.
But another part of me thinks that people can learn from these divergent churches to give themselves permission to do something different. If they read about these other people, maybe they will be willing to take a chance and do it too.
There is a place for them. There is a growing community of people like the divergent church leaders who are connecting and doing the work. It’s just more subtle than some other expressions of church.
Q: At some level, the book is about the question of what constitutes a church. So what does a church look like? What will it look like in the future?
There’s still a huge need for a traditional church with a Sunday morning time slot. But there are other ways.
We talked in the book about WAYfinding in Indianapolis, which is the farthest from what anybody would identify as a congregation, because they’re so decentralized.
WAYfinding is a group that identifies as spiritual seekers. They meet in small groups for eight to 10 weeks on a topic that usually has nothing to do with religion, but the curriculum comes at that topic from a faith or a spiritual point of view. The groups meet all around Indianapolis and come together a couple of times a year for larger gatherings.
It’s not a house church, and it’s not like a congregation. It’s not a book club, because they are engaging in some spiritual practices and doing the meaning-making work.
There’s not a liturgy, but there is a flow to every meeting that’s more than an agenda. It’s not a worship service, though the gatherings can be seen as worship to some.
Some would say, “No way.”
But I think, “Yeah, those people are engaging with ultimate questions of meaning. They are talking about God and reading different scriptures and texts that tap into the other or ultimate concerns.”
Are they a congregation? Are they a movement? Are they an alternative gathering for people who want to be spiritual but not religious?
I don’t know. People used to be derogatory about the phrase “spiritual but not religious,” but that phrase isn’t going away.
It may sound spacey, because it’s not rooted in traditional faith language, but those people aren’t going away. They want community. They want leadership and expertise and opportunity to give and to connect with their spirituality.
They’re not going to find it at a megachurch where they can’t get on board with the theology. And they may not find it at a mainline Protestant church where they can’t feel a connection because they didn’t grow up with it or it’s stale or something.
Q: In the book, you say that divergent churches are a summons to the church to loosen up.
Yes. Because it’s going to be OK.
We gathered together many of the pastors featured in the book earlier this year. They’re a fun group, which is delightful, but the intellect and theological knowledge and the heart that was present in those gatherings was deeply serious.
A lot of traditional church concerns and hang-ups like whether to have a beer at dinner are ancient history for people involved with divergent church. Like, “Why are we worrying about this stuff? Let’s think about what really matters.”
Some of it is a reaction to some of the moralistic strains of Christianity.
Q: What do you admire about these congregations?
The hopeful part is that somebody is willing to try. They haven’t given up. They are driven by something outside of themselves to try this unusual thing.
That feels really hopeful. Because otherwise, the only options are what currently exist, which are working for many and aren’t working for many others.
It also feels hopeful because they’re finding people. They’re finding kindred spirits who resonate with doing church differently, people who are willing to give it a go.
Another part that was really interesting is that many of these churches are attached to denominations. I was surprised by how many of them are connected to denominations and are getting substantial denominational support, both financial and otherwise.
Q: How can traditional congregations use this book? What’s in it for them?
It’s a tough question, because the book isn’t a how-to. But you don’t need to duplicate what they’re doing.
Sharing these stories contributes to a greater awareness that other ways are available to express yourself as a person of faith. And if you’re the kind of person who wants to create that sort of space, there are predecessors. You can take heart from what these other people have done.
Humans have a very strong need to make meaning, and they’re going to get that need met, one way or the other.
It’s not going away. It’s just changing, and somebody’s got to figure it out, which is where I get back to these divergent church leaders. I’m proud of them and admire them, because they’re willing to figure it out in the midst of a lot of ambiguity. There’s no formula, but they’re still trying.




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Looking down the dimly lit hallway, I saw what appeared to be gouges in our darkly stained floor. Concerned that the floor had been damaged somehow, I drew closer to get a better look.
Lying motionless, the snake had remained invisible. My eyes had registered its earth-toned skin and the diamond patterns along its back as either deep scratches in the wood or an odd play of the light from the adjacent kitchen.
Startled by my approach, the creature slithered quickly toward the closed door at the end of the hall. Blocked from escape, it writhed frantically from side to side on the threshold seeking a way out.
With the first hint of movement, my chest tightened, I stopped breathing, and my heart thumped against my rib cage. I suppose that’s what it means to be gripped by fear.
Something tells me that this kind of fear is not what the Psalmist or the writer of Proverbs meant when they said, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.’ (Proverbs 9:10, Psalm 111:10)

I was responding to a threat. And it looked to me like the snake was having a similar reaction. My own reptile brain lurched at the perception of danger, presenting me with two options: fight or flight.
"A Resurrection Shaped Life: Dying and Rising on Planet Earth" (Abingdon Press, 2018). Pre-order here: http://bit.ly/2K2M3wB
I can hardly believe that the Bible says, “The fight or flight impulse is the beginning of wisdom.” On the contrary, experience shows that fear of this kind nurtures our worst selves. Instead of trying to understand what frightens us, we demonize it and seek to destroy it. Fear becomes hate becomes violence.
Jesus encountered this kind of fear. Rumors about his mental instability began circulating. The religious power structure demonized him. (Mark 3:20-22) Who Jesus was, what he said, and what he did posed a threat to their very lives. At least, to the lives they were clinging to.
Jesus had a simple message. The Kingdom of God has drawn near. Things are changing at a deep and abiding level. Right down to the root of things. In Jesus, God is making all things new — especially the human heart.
That’s why Jesus included repentance in his basic message. To repent is to change your mind; to change your soul. Or, more to Jesus’ point, to repent is to die to an old life so that we can lean into the life that God is already giving us.
If Jesus had stuck to sermons and lectures, had he just held a few Bible classes and led some comforting worship services, he would have been easy to ignore or to make a few harmless jokes about. But Jesus’ message came in the form of action.
He freed hearts and minds from the demons that tormented them. Leprous skin gave way to healthy flesh. Paraplegics sold their wheelchairs on eBay.
In the midst of all this, Jesus challenged stale teachings. The Sabbath, he said, is made for humans, not humans for the Sabbath. Presiding Bishop Michael Curry succinctly captures Jesus’ central theme. If it’s not about love, it’s not about God.
Jesus’ actions more than his words teach us about love. After all, he is love in the flesh. And those actions again and again show us that love is more than a mere affection. Love is a transforming power. Love brings justice and peace. Love brings healing and restoration. Love sets things right by making all things new.
When Jesus shows up, love has drawn near. That’s the Kingdom of God: the reign of infinite love.
The philosopher Immanuel Kant once said that we respond with awe when we see something so powerful that it exceeds reason’s ability to understand. When viewed from a safe distance, hurricanes and tornadoes allow us to imagine what it would be like for a finite being like us to be caught up in an overwhelming, infinite power like that.
Kant calls this the Sublime. And he insists that we’ll only learn about the infinite by keeping a safe distance from it. Otherwise, the infinite will sweep us away.
In Jesus, we see that God wants more for us than an idea about God. In Jesus, the infinite braids itself into the finite. The infinite God seeks nothing less than unbroken intimacy. Love intends to sweep us away.
That’s what it means to experience awe: to be swept away with infinite love. Awe of the the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.
But Kant is not entirely wrong. The power of infinite love is not safe. It can feel like a threat to the life to which we’ve grown accustomed. Love will sweep away a life built on what Richard Rohr calls the three P’s: Power, Prestige, and Possessions.
If our religion gives us power, prestige, or possessions, that religious self will die. If love threatens our status, then we have a status that has nothing to do with the Kingdom of God. If what we own makes us feel significant, then the power of love will make us insignificant.
In the face of Love the false self dies and a new self, a true self, emerges. The true self is first and last a child of God, a child of God who recognizes in everyone another child of God. This is wisdom.
Awe, being swept away by love, is the beginning of such wisdom. As C.S. Lewis said of the lion Aslan, Love is not safe. But it is good. Love leads us through death to new life.
"Swept Away" originally appeared on Looking for God in Messy Places. Reprinted with permission.
Weekly Preaching: Sundsy, June 17, 2018  by James C. Howell
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1 Samuel 16 gifts us with one of the Old Testament’s signature theological texts. I preached a sermon I felt pretty good about on this three years ago, and another two years ago. Although it makes for a longer reading, it is well that our lectionary picks up at 15:34. Samuel doesn’t anoint David out of the blue, but only in the wake of his grief and God’s sorrow over the debacle that was King Saul. God, ever true to God’s self, grieves for a time and then unfolds the new thing God will do.
Samuel’s mission, to anoint the new king — even though it’s only a proleptic anointing, as Saul will reign for quite a while after David is soaked in oil — must be sneaky, surreptitious, clandestine. It’s intriguing that Jesus, too, the anointed one, the Messiah, was rather on the secretive side about his reign during his ministry; Mark pictures him shushing the disciples. The powers that dominated the world then would have snickered at the notion that Augustus or Tiberius was not emperor, or that Herod (or Herod Antipas) was not king for much longer.
Walking your people back through the story, which is so very vivid, is helpful (if you don’t belabor it for too long). What were Jesse’s feelings when he learned one of his sons would be king? Pride? Shock? A fearful trembling? He called them together and lined them up by age, height, and brawn. But one-by-one, Samuel dismissed them: the strapping Eliab, the burly Abinadab, the finely-chiseled Shammah. Seven altogether. The preacher can use hands, standing on tiptoe, gesturing to illustrate the gradually receding bulk of these fine boys.
The Lord spoke each time to Samuel — but how? Did the others hear? Was it a whisper? An interior voice? The Lord said, “Have no regard for his appearance or stature, because I haven’t selected him. God doesn’t look at things like humans do. Humans see only what is visible to the eyes, but the Lord sees into the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7). Preachers can expand upon this at length.
We might want to locate times the meek and unlikely were the game-changers. We might compare God’s vision to the way Thomas Kuhn spoke of revolutions in perspective: people thought the world was flat until Copernicus explained things from a very different viewpoint; nothing was ever the same. God’s way isn’t about ability, strength, IQ, street smarts, agility, or savvy. It’s about the “heart” — although really it’s just about God choosing whom God chooses.


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Puzzled, Samuel shrugged. Only then did Jesse acknowledge that, well, yes, “There is still the youngest one… but he’s out keeping the sheep” (v. 11). The obvious deduction is that Jesse didn’t even consider the possibility that this little one might be the one. But could it be that Jesse actually feared David might be the one? That he saw unprecedented potential in him? Or perhaps he was simply the one he loved the most — the unexpected child of old age, the apple of his eye? The writer does note that David “was reddish brown, had beautiful eyes, and was good-looking” (v. 12). Perhaps Jesse wanted to keep this small but handsome one home to shelter him for himself and from the perils of kingship.
Christian history features so many stories of parents blocking their children’s calling to sainthood. Francis of Assisi’s father, Pietro, was so mortified when his son began giving to the poor with total abandon that he took him to court and disowned him. Pope Francis’ mother was crushed when he reported he was headed into the priesthood instead of to medical school, and she would not speak to him or forgive him for some time. How many women and men never became great heroes of the church because parents restrained them and wouldn’t let go?
Francesca Aran Murphy points out that there is not one divine miracle in the entire sixteen chapters of the story of David’s rise from obscurity to power. As she puts it, “God’s working has gone underground.” Leaders understand that God’s working generally is underground; rarely does anything remotely miraculous save the day. What matters is trusting that God’s working is still going on, as unseen as water being soaked up by the roots of a tree.
Or, maybe we develop a different kind of seeing. The verb see (ra’ah) occurs six times in the story of David’s anointing: “the Lord does not see as mortals see” (v. 7 NRSV). How does God see? How can we see as God sees? Can we see things as they really are instead of being deceived by what is only superficially visible? As Gandalf wrote in a letter to Frodo in The Lord of the Rings, “All that is gold does not glitter.” In The Little Prince we find this memorable quote: “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” Or that Native American saying: “We teach our children to see when there is nothing to see, and to listen where there is nothing to hear.” It’s common to say a leader is responsible for having a vision; 1 Samuel’s take might be that the leader is someone who can see and who sees clearly and deeply.
The Hebrew word for “see,” ra’ah, is one barely distinguishable sound away from ra‘ah, the word for “shepherd.” We might think of shepherds as lowly and despised, poor laborers of no account. Yet there is always an ambiguity to the image of a shepherd. Yes, they spent their days and nights outdoors with smelly animals who tended to nibble themselves lost. Mothers didn’t fantasize that their daughters would marry shepherds one day. And yet in the agrarian, pastoral culture of the world in those days, where sheep were everywhere and they mattered for survival, even the mightiest kings of Sumer, Babylon, Assyria, and Egypt were often dubbed the “shepherds” of their people. David was a shepherd boy, but his responsibilities — to care for the flock, ensure they got food and water, protect them from harm, bring them safely home — were identical to those of a good ruler.
Don’t many of our stories wind up like David’s? Public events and private lives twist, turn, and collide. The pursuits of power and pleasure get mixed up with efforts to be pious and faithful, and the results are mixed. This is life in God’s world: we do our best, but then cruel processes of history steamroll everybody. Yet somehow, they almost accidentally further God’s kingdom. Does God cause or even superintend all this? We live, always, with this mystery: where is God in it all? There are hints, clues, guesses, wonderings. But who can be sure?

* * * 
The epistle, 2 Corinthians 5:6-10, (11-13), 14-17, flawlessly picks up on this vision thing. “We walk by faith, not by sight.” Faith is a peculiar way of seeing. I recall David Steinmetz, lecturing the Reformation, explaining how most theologians trusted in what they could see, but Martin Luther insisted that the organ of faith is the ear, not the eye. “The eyes are hard of hearing.” What we see can deceive, but the Word we hear is trustworthy, enduring forever, creative of new, unseen life.
Two little details beg for attention. Paul suggests that the purpose of life isn’t to be good or do good but to please the Lord. Want to know how fabulous, significant and powerful you are? You have the ability to please God — or to displease God. God opens God’s holy self to the vulnerability of being pleased, or not, by people like us. We know we will falter terribly, but I take heart from the famous Merton prayer,
“My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.”
At the same time, it is hard to scare up a mainline denominational sermon that dares to speak about Paul’s insistence that we will all appear before the judgment seat of Christ. What we do, and how we live, is deadly serious. God wants us to envision that day of judgment (as the daily prayer in the 1928 Book of Common Prayer puts it, “Imprint upon our hearts such a dread of thy judgments, and such a grateful sense of thy goodness to us, as may make us both afraid and ashamed to offend thee.”
And yet we needn’t tremble as we enter the courtroom. God is judge and prosecuting attorney, but God is also my defender and the jury. God wants me to be released from bondage more than I do. God’s is no fair, blind justice. God is absurdly, intensely, passionately biased toward us. So yes, humbly approach the seat of justice — the God waiting for us is the one who shed his blood for us, who healed the sick, who touched the untouchables, who forgave those nobody else would tolerate.
Notice that in this season, the lectionary adds verses 18-21, which I like. This business of reconciling and being ambassadors for God, the universal scope of it, not merely individual or personal of God’s work and our ministry, is just staggering, beautiful, and hopeful. I preached on 2 Corinthians 5:14-20 last year and focused on all this. Our church was engaged in a marvelous and impactful ten-week series on Reconciliation with Christena Cleveland, Ben Witherington, Brenda Tapia, Matt Rawle and more; see videos and other resources here. I have no doubt that reconciliation is God’s clearest calling to the church in our day, summoning us beyond simplistic forms of forgiveness, urging us to connect at a deep level with others — in fractured relationships; in a divided denomination; in a broken world; with other religions; in our communities; and in mission, which isn’t the haves doing for the have-notes, but lost people finding one another, sharing their gifts, journeying together. No one has spoken more eloquently of this than Sam Wells, first in A Nazareth Manifesto, and then in his Incarnational Ministry and its companion, Incarnational Mission

* * * 
Finally, we come to the Gospel (Mark 4:26-34), which is fine (of course), but for me is just not as interesting as the Old Testament and Epistle — or the other moments when Jesus speaks of sowing seed (earlier in Mark 4!). Jesus wouldn’t have known what we smart modern people know (unless you need to attribute omniscience to the earthly Jesus and pit him against farming realities), that, horticulturally speaking, the mustard seed isn’t actually the smallest; orchid seeds, and maybe others are tinier.
This parable is utterly uninterested in human efforts (which is required for farming to happen well); I’m reminded of the old joke about the guy who bought an abandoned farm, cleared the fields, plowed, planted… Then, as his crops came in, the local preacher said to him, “Look what God has done!” To which the farmer replied, “Well yes, but do you remember what it was like when God was working this farm alone?”
Still, Mark’s theology is on target: the real growth, the miracle of the seed, soil, sun and rain, comes from God. I cannot pass here without directing all preachers to the most moving, helpful sermon I’ve ever heard directed to clergy from my friend Bishop Claude Alexander (watch here, and don’t miss the music that follows his sermon!). His way of speaking of God’s hand being on the field while the farmer sleeps: brilliant, encouraging, and theologically humbling and hopeful.
"What can we say come June 17? 4th after Pentecost" originally appeared on James Howell's Weekly Preaching Notions. Reprinted with permission.

Preaching with The Storytellers Bible: June 17, 2018

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The following is a free excerpt from The CEB Storytellers Bible, a resource which helps readers see the big themes and important truths of the Bible while also guiding them in how to tell these stories in contemporary language. Over the course of four weeks, Ministry Matters will feature excerpts from the Storytellers Bible to match the Sunday lectionary. Read the third excerpt below.
Fourth Sunday after Pentecost
Mark 4:26-34
Mark 4:26-29 The Seed Growing Secretly
Jesus compares the rule of God with the mystery of a growing seed.
According to Mark 1:14-15, the permeating theme of the Gospel of Mark is the apocalyptic manifestation of the “rule” (CEB: “kingdom”) of God. As the Gospel of Mark unfolds, the listeners discover that Jesus is an agent through whom God’s invasion of the old world is beginning. In the strict sense, the rule of God is not dawning, for God has been sovereign all along. But God is now taking fresh steps to fully demonstrate the divine rule. According to Mark, while the first stages of the fresh manifestation took place in the earthly ministry of Jesus, the fulfillment of God’s promises awaits Jesus’s return. A cosmic cataclysm will complete the work of ending the rule of Satan and establishing the divine will in all things (Mark 13:24-27). The church lives in the interim between Jesus’ resurrection and his return in glory.
Mark 4:1-25 explains that God’s reign is showing itself afresh. This passage teaches the listeners how to interpret the parables, and to commit themselves unreservedly to the divine realm. Jesus encourages the disciples to give themselves unreservedly to the dawning of the rule of God, for “God will evaluate you with the same standard you use to evaluate others. Indeed, you will receive even more.” Meanwhile “even what they don’t have will be taken away” from those who turn away from God’s movement (4:24-25). The parable of the seed growing secretly helps the church understand how God’s rule is coming through Jesus and why they can believe it. The story creates an image intended to reinforce the confidence of the hearers in the coming of the full manifestation of the rule of God. The meaning of this parable is communicated as the listeners experience it. The coming of the rule of God is similar to the story in the parable.
A farmer broadcasts seed on the ground. Having just heard the parable of the sower, which stresses the act of sowing, the hearer is prepared to continue that emphasis. The farmer plays an essential role. But the farmer does not cause the seed to grow.
The ground produces the crop of its own energy. In only a few deft words, the parable causes us to envision the phases of growth. We see the tiny green blade poke its head through the soil. The stalk grows, and soon we see the ear. The preceding parable and its interpretation (Mark 4:1-9, 13-20) cause us to remember that organic development is not always unrelenting progress. Complications (such as thorns that choke the little plants) can retard growth, and even reverse it. Struggle is a part of growth, especially the manifestation of the rule of God.

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Mark uses the word “by itself” (Greek automate, from which we get our word “automatic”) to describe the process by which the earth brings forth its crop (4:28). This term occurs in the Septuagint (the Greek translation of the First Testament) in Leviticus 25:5 to refer to the growth that takes place in the sabbatical year, and in Leviticus 25:11 to refer to growth in the Jubilee year. Those plants appear in seasons of grace: they sprout and grow without any human effort. In Joshua 6:5, God causes the walls of the city of Jericho to fall of themselves before the Israelites. In retelling the story of the exodus, the Wisdom of Solomon describes a terrifying light shining on the Egyptians, a “fire that seemed to have a life of its own.” The Egyptians were soon “dying in fright” (17:6-10). In Acts 12:10, God frees the disciples from prison when the prison doors open of themselves. This term, then, prompts the hearer to realize that God’s gracious, liberating power is at work.
At last we see the mature grain in the ear. The process of growth takes place slowly but inexorably. When the grain is ripe, the farmer immediately comes with the sickle and harvests the crop. Several Jewish writers used the harvest motif to speak of the fulfillment of God’s purposes (Isaiah 27:12-13; 2 Esdr 4:28ff; 9:17, 31; 2 Baruch 70:2ff). Mark specifically echoes the similar usage in Joel 3:13. The larger context of Joel 3:9-17 announces divine comfort for suffering Israel (3:14-17) and violent destruction for Israel’s enemies (3:9-13). The harvest is a time of rejoicing for those who repent and welcome the incoming of the rule of God. But for those who resist, it is an occasion for judgment.
The mention of seed and growth also calls to mind Genesis 1:11-12. The process of growth is guaranteed by God, who created seeds to grow and mature. God promised Noah that seedtime and harvest would continue as long as the earth lasts (Gen 8:22). The continuation of the fruitfulness of the earth through the long years of human brokenness is a sign of divine faithfulness. Hence, people can trust the process by which the rule of God is coming. As God could be trusted in the first creation, so God will prove trustworthy for the new creation.
The situation of Mark’s community is similar to the situation in the parable. Why should Christians continue to plant the hope for a new world in the face of the ongoing pain and evil in the present age? We can continue to believe that a new creation is growing because the God who created once has promised to recreate. The community cannot know the day or the hour of the harvest (Mark 13:32-37). Indeed, in the midst of the suffering of the world, signs of struggle may be more prominent than signs of the coming of God. Like the seed germinating invisibly below the surface of the soil, the rule of God is sometimes at work below the surface of current events. We patiently continue our planting and waiting. For the growth cannot be stopped, even if it does not come quickly.
The echo from Joel reminds the listening community that the stakes are high. Those who continue steadfastly will join the full grain in the basket. Those who turn away fall under judgment.

* * *
4:30-32 (Matthew 13:31-32; Luke 13:18-19) — The Mustard Seed
The rule of God is like a tiny mustard seed that grows into a giant bush.
Many of the comments from our previous encounter with the parable of the seed growing secretly (Mark 4:26-29) can be adapted to the parable of the mustard seed. This story, too, is a comparison with the rule of God. The parable of the mustard seed also draws upon agricultural imagery familiar to first-century listeners. It invokes the motif of growth.
As listeners, our first impression is of the mustard seed, which the story calls “the smallest of all the seeds on the earth.” While this identification is not strictly true (the orchid seed is smaller), the narrator is directly preparing us for the contrast between the tiny seed and the large bush. The mustard plant reaches a minimum of four feet in height, and can grow to eight or twelve feet. In antiquity, much as today, mustard was used as a condiment. It could transform a bland food into a spicy delicacy. It was also used as a medicine for problems ranging from snake bites to stomach troubles and sneezing. The hearer thus thinks of the rule of God as a healing realm. The mustard plant spread so rapidly that it was seldom planted in a garden. The energetic growth of the mustard plant leads the listener to imagine similar energy in the dominion of God.
The experience of contrast is central to the meaning of the story. We see the tiny seed, and then we are surprised by the giant bush that results. The beginning of the cosmic manifestation of God’s rule is like the mustard seed: so tiny as to be overlooked. What could be less auspicious than a crucified carpenter who traveled around Palestine preaching, teaching, and working an occasional miracle? What could be less impressive than the ragged church Jesus left behind to claim that he was raised from the dead and that he would return again in heavenly power and glory?
In the Markan version of the parable, the fully grown mustard plant is described only as a “plant” (NRSV). Both Matthew and Luke speak of it as a tree. Scholars debate whether an essential difference results from the divergence between plant and tree.
According to one interpretation, the shrub of Mark is a direct contrast to certain trees in the Hebrew Bible. In Ezekiel 31:1-18 and in Daniel 4:10-12, 20-27, large trees represent powerful, idolatrous empires that are destroyed. Some scholars contend that Mark deliberately avoids calling the mustard plant a “tree” in order to indicate that the rule of God appears to be less than it actually is. Egypt, Babylon, and other haughty empires, full of pride, called themselves trees, but they were cut down. Under divine impulse, the humble mustard plant will become greater than the cedars of Lebanon. Mark’s use of the term shrub is thus seen as a critique of all earthly pretensions to power.
While this interpretation is attractive, I think it unlikely. Why would Matthew and Luke replace such an association with “tree”? A plant twelve feet high can qualify, at least figuratively, as a tree. Furthermore, trees can function positively in Hebrew tradition. In Ezekiel 17:22-24, God describes the restoration of fallen Israel as taking “a tender shoot from its crown” and planting it to “grow into a mighty cedar.” Large, well-watered trees can represent God’s providential care (Ps 104:12, 16-17). The motif of contrast again comes into play: the future, cosmic tree is continuous with the tiny mustard seed.
The picture of the birds nesting on the large branches creates an image of trust and security in the hearer. When we identify with God’s coming rule, we feel similarly.
Further, in Ezekiel 17:23; 31:5-6; and Daniel 4:12, birds nesting in branches bespeak the diverse inhabitants of the dominions represented by the trees. In 1 Enoch 90:2-3, 30-37 and in Joseph and Aseneth 15:7, birds specifically portray Gentiles. The rule of God is cosmic in scope and international in population.
Today’s preacher or teacher occasionally claims that the presence of Gentiles in the cosmic dominion of God offends Jewish exclusivism. Quite the contrary. At its best, Judaism understands its witness to be for the sake of the whole human family and the larger natural world (as in Gen 12:1-3; whole human family (Isa 2:2-4; 25:6-8; 44:5; 60:4-7; Jer 16:19-20; Mic 4:1-3; Zech 8:20-23; 1 Enoch 90:13, 37-38; 91:14; Sibylline Oracles 3:767-795; Tob 13:6). Early Christians believed that the knowledge of God that had been enjoyed by Israel since Abraham and Sarah was extended to Gentiles through Jesus Christ. The presence of the birds in the tree in the parables indicates that the rule of God includes the great Gentile ingathering. The purpose of the Markan church is to witness among Gentiles (Mark 13:10). Since the birds in Ezekiel 31 and Daniel 4 are subjects of pagan empires, their appearance in Mark’s tree suggests that in the rule of God, even idolaters can be transformed.
Matthew’s version of the parable of the mustard seed (13:31-32) is not substantially different from Mark’s. Matthew places the parable in a collection of parables where its function is similar to its role in Mark 4: it provides information about the rule of God.
Luke 13:18-19 abbreviates the story. Luke also changes the place of planting from the “ground” to a garden. As he does elsewhere, Luke probably changes this detail in order to make the story more understandable to people who live in cities and who might have an herb garden. Luke also puts the parable in a new context. In 12:49-59, Jesus announces that the time of judgment is coming. In 13:1-9, Jesus stresses that all who do not repent will perish under judgment. In 13:10-17, Jesus embodies the rule of God by healing a bent-over woman in a synagogue on the sabbath. The leader of the synagogue upbraids Jesus for healing on the sabbath. As a commentary on the incident, Jesus then tells the parables of the mustard seed and the leaven. The parables remind the listeners that while their witness to the divine rule may bring them into conflict with authorities, the reign of God is inevitably coming. When the rule of God is fully manifest, those who do not repent will perish. Those who welcome the coming of God in events such as the healing of the woman will nest in the tree of God’s rule.

Teaching Biblical Patriotism as Pastoral Care: God, Country, and Stories of Working Class Pain Bby Tex Sample
This article is featured in the Grace & Chaos: Pastoral Care in the Storms of 1968/2018 (May/June/July 2018) issue of Circuit Rider

Patriotism is an important part of traditional conservatism, a cultural resource for most working-class white Americans. Without question, love of country can be both a motivation for the good and a problem. Love of country can become idolatry. Such patriotism can be an inordinate love that leads to excesses and extremes, to militarism, to an ethos of violence, and to a regimented mindset.
At the same time, love of country can also be valuable. To love this land, to love its people, does not require that it be idolized. Love of country does not have to be nativist. It does not have to be xenophobic or white supremacist. It depends on how wide the reach is of those to whom we belong.
We find rich teaching in biblical narratives regarding the nations of the earth. Before God, nations are as nothing, like dust (Isa 40:15). Nations are not to be idolized but rather resisted in their pretenses of deification (as in Dan 3 where Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego had to resist Nebuchadnezzar’s gold idol). Sometimes nations require the people’s revolt and revolution (as with the enslaved Israelites in Exodus). Other times, nations provoke a need for disobedience and risk of jail because we are called ultimately to obey God and not human authority (as Peter and the apostles modeled in Acts 5:29). Furthermore, the nations of the world will be judged ultimately by how they meet raw human need (as with the parable of the sheep and the goats in Matt 25:31), even as they march in that final eschatological parade (Rev 21). And yet, in the midst of all these teachings, we are called to be subordinate to the ruling authorities (Rom 13), albeit in a biblical context.
So what does a biblical survey of nation status and patriotism have to do with the white working class in America? Patriotism is, if you will, one of the most powerful commitments and narratives of cultural traditionalism in our country. Love of country comes up in conversations and in practices like the Pledge of Allegiance and the singing of the national anthem. It is often a first recourse when considering some question of national significance. And, yes, it can be combined with Christian faith and discipleship in ways that take on a divine status and therefore idolatrous character. So how do we address these powerful values in light of biblical teaching?
First, let it be said that love of one's nation as such is not denounced in scripture. An appropriate love of country is not questioned in scripture; rather, there is an attempt to give understanding to the status of nations and to condemn the ease with which they can become idols. Sometimes the overreach of a governmental authority must be resisted even to the point of revolt. It is the insensitivity of the nations to human hurt and isolation that is to be challenged. So how do we work with these?
The first task of the Christian leader is to bring greater awareness to working people of the full sweep of biblical teaching, so that the nation-state is placed in that far more compelling and realistic scriptural account of the governments and rulers of the world.
Second, working people, like others in this country, need a far better understanding of our nation’s history, both its achievements and its failures, the best of its ideals and its often wicked and unjust misuse of the land, of its nonhuman critters, of its people, and even of its children. I would begin this work with stories about white working people and the labor history of this country.

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In preaching and teaching I would lay this contemporary history out—not in a textbook style—but in story formats, more easily remembered so that the graphic violence, the exploitation, the abuse, and the oppression of white working people would become clear. This means giving attention to white indentured servitude early on in the colonies.
Further, I would tell stories of the labor movement itself and of the violence against working people, of the use of “goon squads” by industrial owners, and I would tell stories of today’s working people devastated by industrial closings and the people who suffer in their very concrete, ordinary lives from broad contextual injustices that continue to shatter working-class families.
There are also significant stories of farmers and farmworkers and their efforts to throw off the domination of powerful agricultural businesses and their power elite allies. Stories should at least initially take the side of working-class and rural people and thereby provide new clarity about the oppression and exploitation that have been pervasively present throughout our history. Stories like these sharply call into question the idolatries of America and its immoral complicity in the violations against working people.
Third, I would also tell stories of times when black and white and brown workers formed coalitions and opened the possibilities of real change, only to be confronted with divide and conquer strategies by owners and other power elites to break up such coalitions. The elites knew that working people together could transform unjust privilege, meager wages, and the oppressive circumstances of their lives.
The point here is that to counter the idolatries of our nation among white working-class people, you can’t rely on statistics and analysis but on story and description. These are the structural core of their idiom and the passageway into their barrel of cultural resources.
The case needs to be made that the purpose of the nation is not its own privilege; it is to serve the people. The people do not exist for the sake of the nation; the nation exists for the sake of the people. Further, there is no messianic nation. We are not saved by the nation-state. When I die, I am very clear that the American eagle will not swoop down and take me into eternal life in God.
Someone may say that the Bible is not important for all white working-class people, and I am aware of that, of course. But there are many for whom it is important, and perhaps a further word is necessary about the nature of that importance. The great majority of white working-class people are neither fundamentalists nor dogmatic believers in the inerrant word of scripture. Rather, they have a basic loyalty to the Bible. They are irritated by those whose interpretations seem like attempts to get out from under its teaching. During my work in ministry I have served a total of ten different congregations in which a majority or near majority were working-class urban and/or rural people. Without exception, the great number of that majority had a firm sense of biblical authority but were not fundamentalists. The point is they appreciated and took seriously the biblical witness. Scripture is alive and well for a great many white working-class people.
All of this offers an important teachable moment for white working-class Americans, and, indeed, for all our citizens. Sharing stories of working-class pain and partnerships across racial lines would be a good start for pastors and leaders called to preach, teach, and care.
It is, of course, no substitute for valuing black and brown lives and the ongoing work of advocacy and alliance—but it might be necessary for this kind of coalition-driven justice work to happen at all.
This article is adapted from Tex Sample’s forthcoming book Working Class Rage: A Field Guide to White Anger and Pain, available from Abingdon Press in September 2018.

For many South Korean Christians, reunification is a religious goal  by Diane Winston / Religion News Service

People pray during a special service to wish for a successful inter-Korean summit and peace on the Korean peninsula at a church in Seoul, South Korea, on April 19, 2018. (AP Photo/Ahn Young-joon)
A lot has happened on the Korean peninsula in the last few weeks. South Korean president Moon Jae-in and North Korean leader Kim Jong-un met for the first time; Kim took some serious steps toward denuclearization; and Kim and President Trump agreed to talk, but Trump abruptly canceled the historic meeting. On June 1, however, following a meeting with a high ranking North Korean official, President Trump announced that he plans to meet Kim Jong-un.
I watched these events unfold with interest since two months earlier, I had traveled to South Korea with 12 journalism students to report on ongoing religious, political and cultural developments.
When we landed at Seoul’s Incheon Airport, the warm diplomatic tailwinds of the Winter Olympics had thawed relations between the North and South. Kim and Moon would soon meet. And there were rumors of a Trump and Kim parlay to follow.
My students had many questions about the role of religion in the land of K-pop, including Christianity’s involvement in either promoting or preventing improved relations between the North and South. Even though half of all South Koreans are religiously unaffiliated, Christianity has had an outsized influence in the country. Many of the world’s largest churches are located there, and many South Korean political and business leaders are staunch Christians.
Korean Christianity
For the first half of the 20th century, Christianity gained little ground in Korea. Confucianism, Buddhism and shamanism persisted despite efforts of Protestant and Roman Catholic missionaries. But after the Korean War, the country’s religious landscape changed dramatically.
Communists in the North banned most Christian practice, replacing traditional beliefs and rituals with Juche, an official state ideology that mixes Marxism and self-reliance with veneration for Kim Il-Sung, the nation’s first leader.
The South’s experience could not have been more different.
American support for the fight against Communism and its aid in postwar reconstruction boosted Christianity’s popularity. That’s because Christianity was the Americans’ religion, and many South Koreans wanted what America had — wealth, freedom and “divine blessings.”
Conversions soared and among the most successful churches were those espousing values similar to Confucianism, the Chinese philosophy that migrated to Korea some 1800 years ago, and is deeply embedded in its culture. Both Confucianism and conservative Christianity emphasize traditional gender roles, strong families, and respect for authority.
Today, almost 30 percent of the country is either Protestant or Roman Catholic, with conservative evangelicals playing a significant role in the nation’s politics and culture.
Large Korean megachurches, like their American counterparts, tend to be pro-democracy, pro-free market and anti-communist. They support U.S policy and, like many evangelical and “prosperity” churches in the U.S., believe that Donald Trump is God’s man.
During our visit, we found that many Korean Christians are wary of Kim’s overtures to Moon, including talk of reconciliation. Their preference is reunification: one democratic country where Christianity is openly practiced.
Reunification not reconciliation
Indeed after the Korean War, many South Koreans yearned for a reunited nation. Many had relatives in the North and could not imagine a permanent separation. While many of these older Koreans still want to see the two countries reunited, young people do not share the sentiment.
In 2017, the government’s Institute for National Unification found that 71.2 percent of 20-something South Koreans oppose reunification. For the time being, however, young folks are a minority. So today, about 58 percent of the population does favor a reunited peninsula, but their numbers are falling.
Younger Koreans have pragmatic as well as ideological reasons for opposing reunification. North Korea is a poor, totalitarian state. South Korea is a wealthy, democratic one. The political difficulties of bridging the difference seem insurmountable, especially with Kim in power. The economic challenge is equally daunting. South Koreans have worked hard for success and many do not want to jeopardize their high standard of living to help their “poor cousins” in the North.
But President Moon Jae-in, the son of North Korean refugees, has his own ideas about reconciliation and reunification. Unlike his conservative predecessor, Park Geun-hye, who was impeached and sentenced to prison for abuse of power and corruption, Moon is a former human rights attorney. He is willing to start with reconciliation, but his long-term goal is a united peninsula.
Action on the ground
While Moon Jae-in, Kim Jong-Un and Trump conduct a complicated diplomatic dance, religiously based, grassroots initiatives take small steps forward. For some, this means sending messages over the border, for others it’s helping defectors adjust to the South, and for still others, it involves paving the way for reunification.
Staff at Far East Broadcasting System’s Seoul office focus on evangelizing North Korea. They smuggle radios into the Communist-controlled country so citizens can listen to sermons, services and shows about Christianity. The station also broadcasts in South Korea, where its content includes information on reunification.
“We just want to share the Christian gospel,” Chung Soo Kim, a staff member, told one of my students. Kim added that North Korean attempts to stop the programming have failed: “They cannot afford to jam our broadcasts. They do not even have enough food to feed their people.”
Other Korean Christians assist North Koreans who have defected. There are about 31,000 defectors in South Korea, and many have trouble adjusting to their changed circumstances. The South Korean government provides some help, but clergy and churches try to fill in the gaps. According to some defectors, religion helps with acculturation.
The Rev. Chun Ki Won, for example, started Durihana International School in Seoul as an alternative for young North Koreans, whose foreign accents and hand-me-down clothes make them targets of ridicule in South Korean schools.
“I realized after rescuing North Korean defectors from China and leading them to South Korea that they don’t settle down properly,” Chun told a student through a translator. “We teach them the purpose of their lives and their identity. We teach them why God made them to suffer, and that there is purpose in that.”
One of the more ambitious programs aimed at reunification is River of Life, a school run by Ben Torrey, grandson of a famous 19th century American evangelist, Reuben A. Torrey. Ben Torrey integrates reunification into the curriculum for Korean Christian children.
Torrey’s students meet with defectors and, building on personal relationships, slowly embrace the idea of one Korea. Jin-soo (his first name), one of Torrey’s students told my student through a translator: “I went to a public elementary and middle school. In that school, at least once a year, we talked about reunification, but it was just something in the textbook, nothing that comes alive.” He explained how things changed once he had a chance to meet North Korean students. “I began thinking from their perspective,” he said. “They are the same as I am.”
Like Torrey, Korean Christians who support reunification see it as a political and religious goal. And although it’s an uphill struggle, they believe with faith anything is possible.
In fact, that’s the takeaway that struck several in my class: The faith of many Korean Christians supersedes political calculation. Or, as Ben Torrey told one of the students about a united peninsula,
“God has to do it. It has to be a miracle.”
This piece, first published on June 1, was slightly updated to reflect recent developments on North Korea.



Fourth Sunday after Pentecost
KINGDOM SEEDS by Ryan Wilson
Mark 4:26-34 Jesus taught the crowds using parables. In our parables today, we see that Jesus used everyday

 agricultural language to talk about God. In the first parable, he… read more
Mark 4:26-34
Jesus taught the crowds using parables. In our parables today, we see that Jesus used everyday agricultural language to talk about God. In the first parable, he speaks of someone scattering seeds and watching them begin to grow. If you have ever planted a vegetable garden, you know how amazing it is to watch how the seeds come up, begin to grow, and eventually produce a harvest. We don’t know exactly why it grows or how it grows, but somehow the earth produces the harvest, and we are able to reap what was sown.
In the second parable, Jesus speaks of a mustard seed. It is the smallest of all seeds on earth, and so some might expect that the harvest from the smallest seed would be very small as well. However, Jesus says that from the smallest seed, the mustard bush becomes one of the greatest of all shrubs. It puts forth large branches and all of the birds of the air make nests from its shade.
Verse 33 tells us that Jesus spoke the word to them using many similar parables, and that he shared “as much as they could understand.” But then, don’t you wish you could have been one of the disciples for the private times when Mark says Jesus “explained everything” (v. 34) to them? Wouldn’t we all love to get that commentary? If we could have access to the private explanations Jesus gave to the disciples, surely there would be less confusion and more understanding. If we could just have a private tutoring session with Jesus, wouldn’t we understand God’s hopes and dreams for us just a little better?
Since we don’t have access to the private meetings where Jesus “explained everything,” we simply do our best with the help of the Holy Spirit. Pentecost suggests to us that the Holy Spirit is present and active in our world. God does not abandon God’s people, and the Holy Spirit is always available to us. The Holy Spirit gives us power to do ministry in Jesus’ name and to speak the truth about God’s love. In these two seed parables, we learn about that which seems to have been the most important topic for Jesus, the kingdom of God.
First we learn that there is mystery to the kingdom. Some of us do not like mystery in our lives. We want order and structure, and we want to be in control. However, we are reminded that God is sovereign and works in God’s own way and timing. While we may see in other teachings that God desires for humanity to join in God’s efforts, this particular parable suggests that even if humanity is oblivious to what’s going on around them, God is still at work. This is good news!
A second thing we can learn about the kingdom of God is that God’s workings may appear to be small and insignificant, but like a mustard seed, the kingdom will grow in significant ways. When we sing Handel’s “Hallelujah Chorus,” we affirm that the kingdoms of this world will become the kingdom of God. God’s kingdom will reign supreme, and we will experience life as God intends.
When I came to be a pastor in Seneca, S. C., I was quickly invited to a meeting to talk about a possible homeless shelter for the county. I found out that there had been talks about a shelter for years, but most of the talks had died down and nothing had been done. As a good friend of mine once told me, “Sometimes when all is said and done, more is said than done.” The need, however, was still there.
At first, only a few people met to talk about the need, but as the months went on, we eventually had eight churches gathered in the effort. After creating a board and getting 401C3 status, more and more people began to join us. City government, police, lawyers, doctors, churches, businesses, and other individuals began to catch hold of the need and possibility. In 2009, Our Daily Rest opened its doors and has had a significant impact in many people’s lives. I see this as one example of how kingdom work can start small but can grow to wonderful proportions. As the birds of the air perch in the big branches of a mustard tree, so now many homeless people are finding shelter in our county.
Finally, we also learn that Jesus doesn’t force feed us. Instead, he gives us as much as we can understand at this point in our lives. That is good news for humans, who are not perfect and who often are slow to understand. God gives us just what we need for each day and situation. Though we may not get the full picture or the deepest understandings that day, we catch glimpses of God’s kingdom and that is enough. The Israelites had to learn that lesson over and over as they wandered in the wilderness. God will provide for our daily needs. We just have to trust and be open to receiving that blessing. Here in Seneca, the impact is already showing evidence of God’s handiwork. On the surface, people at the shelter are discovering a God who provides food, clothing, and shelter. Internally, they may also see that God grants us things beyond our physical needs—like grace, comfort, and peace. How thankful we are for a God who provides just what we need through kingdom seeds!

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost 
COLOR: Green
SCRIPTURE READINGS: 1 Samuel 15:34–16:13; Psalm 20; 2 Corinthians 5:6-10 (11-13), 14-17; Mark 4:26-34
THEME IDEAS
God’s call is often unexpected. In this week’s lessons, God interrupts Samuel on his way to Ramah, calling him to go to the house of Jesse, in Bethlehem. While there, God has him anoint David, the youngest child of Jesse, to lead the people. Throughout the readings for this week, the people and their leaders pray for the protection, wisdom, justice, and compassion they need to live by faith. The realm of God is like a mustard seed, tiny as it is planted, but growing mysteriously into something large enough to offer refuge to everyone. We’re called to embrace and nurture life in ways we do not understand. Life is a mystery, and we walk by faith.
INVITATION AND GATHERING
Call to Worship (Psalm 72, 2 Corinthians 5)
The Holy One, defender of the poor and needy, calls us to gather now.
We come, thankful to be a part of this family of faith.
God knows us well and calls us by name.
We hear our name and respond to God’s call.
The love of Christ urges us on.

—OR—
Call to Worship (1 Samuel 15, 2 Corinthians 5)
God interrupted Samuel with an unexpected call.
“Here I am, Lord. Send me!”
God surprised Jesse, choosing his youngest son, David, to be king.
“Here I am, Lord. Send me!”
We join with Christ and are a part of God’s new creation.
O Mighty God, we come to join the harvest.
Gather us in, O Holy One, for we would be your people. Amen.
Opening Prayer (2 Corinthians 5)
God of every thought and reality, the holy, prophetic sustainer of community, we gather here today as your people, children of the good news. Assure us of your presence once again, that we may trust the mystery of life and growth, as we gather in the name of our Savior, who is Jesus, the Christ.
PROCLAMATION AND RESPONSE
Prayer of Confession (Samuel 15, 2 Corinthians 5)
Holy God, you call us to live in mystery, to walk by faith. Yet we long for plans with goals and schedules. It’s hard to live by faith. You call us to place our trust in you, to live according to your direction.
Yet we want life to make sense from a human point of view. It’s hard to live by faith.
You call us to feel the mystery of life, to marvel at the power of your love.
Yet it’s not easy to accept your promise
that everything old has passed away.
It’s hard to live by faith.
Forgive us, holy maker of reality.
Forgive us for playing god instead of accepting our humanity.
Words of Assurance (Mark 4, Psalm 72)
Fear not, for our creator, the loving maker of all reality, forgives us, and redeems us from violence and oppression.
God sows the good news in tiny seeds, inviting us to tend the soil of community, and marvel as they grow.
In the name of Jesus, who is the Christ, you are forgiven.
In the name of Christ, you are forgiven. Amen.
Passing the Peace of Christ (1 Samuel 15, 2 Corinthians 5)
God calls us in surprising ways, inviting us into a new creation.
Share the good news with one another:
The peace of Christ is with you.
The peace of Christ is with you.
Prayer of Preparation (1 Samuel 15, Mark 4)
Holy God, we want to be like Samuel, ready to change course when you call, ready to do our part even when it isn’t quite what we expect.
O glorious Spirit of Surprise, open our hearts to your word in fresh, new ways. Amen.
Response to the Word (1 Samuel 15, 2 Corinthians 5)
Powerful, compassionate giver of mystery, grant us the courage to say “yes” to your unexpected call, and the strength to claim our place with Christ in the new creation you are cultivating. Amen.
THANKSGIVING AND COMMUNION
Invitation to the Offering (Mark 4)
These summer days, the earth produces of itself, first the stalk and then the full grain. We celebrate the abundance of our loving God, and offer up a part of that abundance now.
Offering Prayer
Holy God, magnificent, sustaining farmer of the future, receive these gifts, we pray.
Through our offering, help us know in some surprising way that you are bringing into being something wonderful and new. Amen.
Invitation to Communion (2 Corinthians 5, Mark 4)
Holy God, we thank you for the promise of your presence.
You call us to be part of your new creation.
Loving Christ, we celebrate your call to join you in God’s new creation.
We come to join the harvest, to help carry
your good news out into the world.
Empowering Holy Spirit, we give thanks that you encourage us to respond with joy.
Come fill us now, as we gather to share
your presence in the bread and cup.
SENDING FORTH
Benediction (2 Corinthians 5)
Life is a mystery. We walk by faith.
God calls us when we least expect it, inviting us to be in Christ.
Walk out into the world, knowing that you are part of God’s life-giving new creation.
Life is a mystery. We walk by faith. Amen.
CONTEMPORARY OPTIONS
Contemporary Gathering Words (1 Samuel 15)
We come to hear God’s call.
Life is a mystery.
We are surprised by what we hear.
We walk by faith.
We are invited to be part of God’s new creation.
Life is a mystery. We walk by faith.
Praise Sentences (2 Corinthians 5)
Praise the One who gives us faith.
Praise the One who walks with us.
Praise the One who shrouds life in mystery.
Praise God.
Praise God.
Praise God.
From The Abingdon Worship Annual, edited by Mary J. Scifres and B.J. Beu, Copyright © Abingdon Press.

WORSHIP FOR KIDS: JUNE 17, 2018 by Carolyn C. Brown read more
From a Child's Point of View
Old Testament: 1 Samuel 15:34-16:13. Children, who have been left at home while older family members go to interesting-sounding events, or have eaten in the kitchen while the grown-ups eat in the dining room, delight in God's choice of the youngest kid, who was left behind to tend the sheep while the rest of the family went to the sacrifice with the important visitor. It gives them hope that God is aware of them and values their abilities, too. Teachers, coaches, older siblings, friends, and even parents may overlook them, but God, who "looks on the heart," knows who they really are and appreciates their dreams and intentions.
It is, however, important for children to be reminded that being chosen by God did not immediately change David's life. A few years later when all his older brothers went off to fight, David was still left at home to take care of the sheep and was sent to the battle camp only to take extra food to his brothers. God's plan for David began with years of doing the chores of the youngest brother in a large, busy household.
Psalm: 20. If they are told before the reading that this is a prayer for a king, children catch at least some of its petitions. Though the psalm is peppered with references to Temple sacrifices with which children are unfamiliar, the verb phrases of the petitions "protect," "send you help," "give you support" state the requests clearly.
Gospel: Mark 4:26-34. These two parables about growing seeds can either stand alone or complement the story about David. God uses small things like seeds, a shepherd boy, and us, to do important things, such as produce flowers, rule a nation, and build God's kingdom. For children, that means that they can do important work for God in seemingly little ways. Just as God works on seeds, God works on their kind words, small offerings, and attempts to do God's will every day. This is especially important for middle- and older-elementary children who long to do big things in big ways and tend to devalue the small things they can do now.
Epistle: 1 Corinthians 5:6-10 (11-13), 14-17. This is the hardest of today's passages for children to understand. To older children attentive enough to sift through all the abstract vocabulary, Paul seems to say that he would rather be dead ("with God") than alive, but he is willing to live in order to do God's work. To children, and to many adults, this is not compelling logic.
The New Jerusalem Bible, however, offers a translation of verse 10 which fits well with the David story: "At the judgment seat of Christ, we are all to be seen for what we are" (italics added). This reminds us that because God sees us as we are and does not overlook us, we are responsible for what we do and say. Because Paul believed that he was responsible for doing the job Christ had given him (to start new churches), he was willing for people to say he was crazy. He knew that Christ's opinion of him mattered more than theirs. We are to be as responsible to Christ as Paul was.
Watch Words
If your congregation does not anoint in worship, introduce it simply as a way of identifying a person who will be king. If your congregation does anoint at baptism and confirmation, compare the way David was identified to become king with the way baptism and confirmation identify us and set us aside to do God's work.
Kingdom of God is a term children easily understand. However, many adults, interested in promoting less monarchical and patriarchal visions of the world, urge that we limit our use of such terms to describe God's action in the world. So try using more "farming" words than "kingdom" words. Speak of God as tending the world and its inhabitants, identify seeds that God is bringing to life, and so forth.
Let the Children Sing
Praise God, who pays attention to both the great and the small, with "All Things Bright and Beautiful."
Sing "Here I Am, Lord" to commit yourselves, with David and Paul, to doing God's will.
Fifth- and sixth-graders can read the vocabulary of "Eternal God, Whose Power Upholds" and, when it is pointed out in advance, appreciate the description in each verse of one human activity through which God may work.
The Liturgical Child
1. Ask the person who provides flowers for the chancel to also provide one seed of that kind of flower for each worshipper. Seeds may be given out by children at the time the Gospel is read, or taped into the bulletins by an older children's class before worship. Point out the mystery of the growth of seed into flower. Then read the Gospel lesson.
2. Anoint worshippers, to show that as God chose David to be king, God has also chosen them for certain service. (Draw a cross on the forehead of each worshipper with one finger dipped in a dish of olive oil.) People may be anointed either as they leave the communion rail or as they leave the sanctuary. Say to each one, "God set David aside to be king. God has a task for you." If this is done at the end of the service, the following would be an appropriate Charge and Benediction:
Go forth to live for God. Make a difference in the world. Remember that no need is too small to deserve your attention and no problem is too big for you to tackle with God's power. God has set you apart and called you. God is working through you and will be with you always. So, go in peace. Amen.
3. To get into the feeling of Psalm 20, invite the congregation to imagine itself among those greeting David when he later became king. Then read the psalm, with halves of the congregation reading the crowd shouts responsively.
4. Remember to include the children's end-of-school concerns in the church's prayers on the appropriate Sunday.
Sermon Resources
1. It takes 54 people, holding hands, to stand in a circle around the trunk of a giant sequoia tree. Two people can put their arms around the trunk of a lodgepole pine tree. The surprise is that the seed-bearing cone of the second tree is 8 to 12 inches long, while the cone of the sequoia is less than 3 inches long. Since many children have seen sequoia trees or pictures of them, they are a good modern example with which to make the point of the mustard-seed parable.
2. Compare the growth of a seed to the results when a child puts a dollar in the offering. Describe what one dollar's worth of food can mean for a hungry child, what a Bible could mean to a family in a refugee camp, what communion means when brought to a homebound member, and so forth.
3. "The Quarreling Book," by Charlotte Zolotow, describes a series of small events that ruin the day, as each in a series of people lash out at someone after being hurt by someone else, until the process is reversed when a dog licks Eddie's hand, regardless of the way Eddie had treated it. It is everyday proof that little deeds, like the seeds referred to in the parable, produce significant results. Bring this very short story to life as you read it, showing the feelings of each person with your facial expressions.

SERMON OPTIONS: JUNE 17, 2018 bby Ministry Matters
Seeing People as God Does 1 Samuel 15:34–16:13 We see the outside of people; God sees the inside. We see the body; God sees the heart. It wasn’t difficult for… read more

Seeing People as God Does
1 Samuel 15:34–16:13
We see the outside of people; God sees the inside. We see the body; God sees the heart.
It wasn’t difficult for Samuel to anoint Saul as Israel’s first king. Saul was an impressive physical specimen. He looked like a king. On the other hand, Samuel may have found it more difficult to anoint David as king after Saul, because David was a mere lad. The shepherd boy looked like anything but a king. Saul turned out to be a failure as a king. David ruled with great success.
Someone may ask: “Why did God select Saul as king? Didn’t God know his heart?” Yes, of course God knew his heart. Likely, God gave Israel what they wanted, a king like the kings of other nations. They looked on the outside of Saul. He looked like a king. They would have refused the shepherd boy at that juncture. They needed to learn to see people like God sees people. So the Lord let them learn.
God frequently chooses the weak, common, unimpressive folk from human perspective to be his servants. The Messiah himself was described by Isaiah (53:2) as one whose outward appearance would not attract people to him.
How frequently we see only the outside and not the inside of people and thus make an incorrect judgment of the kind of persons they are. Think of the pastor selection committees of local churches who have given priority to external qualities rather than the character of prospective pastors. Vance Havner once quipped that he was glad he wasn’t handsome, because he had noticed that people expect the preaching of preachers to live up to their looks!
Why does the Lord frequently use those who are unimpressive in the sight of man to do his greatest work? There are at least two reasons.
I. God’s Power Made Obvious
People soon were astonished at David’s exploits in battle. It was obvious that he didn’t possess the physical prowess to accomplish those exploits; thus, God was given more credit than if David had been a powerful warrior.
Some of the apostle Paul’s critics in the church at Corinth were critical of his preaching skills. Tradition teaches us that he wasn’t a handsome man. Also, he had a chronic illness that hindered him physically. Yet, second only to Jesus, Paul became the dominant figure in the New Testament because he accomplished so much church-planting within the Gentile world. Paul is responsible for as many as thirteen of the New Testament writings, and is a central figure in the book of Acts. Paul gave the glory to God for all his accomplishments. Concerning his preaching, he wrote that his speech was not with “plausible words of wisdom, but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God” (1 Cor. 2:4-5).
II. God Looks Beneath the Surface
The Lord wasn’t surprised by David’s feats. He knew the young man’s heart. He saw the qualities that could be divinely enhanced within him to make him a great king.
Similarly, God perceived in Saul of Tarsus the capacity to become a great Christian missionary, even when he was a vicious persecutor of Christians. God saved him and made of him an effective apostle to the Gentiles. He was used as the most influential instrument in the hands of God to break down the barrier between Jewish and Gentile believers. (Jerry E. Oswalt)
New Life in Christ
2 Corinthians 5:6-17
In previous passages Paul has dealt with faith in life eternal and how mortal existence is just a prelude to that which is yet to come. In this lesson he draws a parallel to discipleship. Unredeemed life, he suggests, is mere prelude to converted life.
I. Eternal Life Is a Promise
Paul states, “We would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord” (v. 8). He trusts that death is simply a bridge linking worlds, a pathway leading Home. Maurice Boyd writes of a bridge in Europe engraved with these words: “Bridges are meant to cross over. No one builds his house there.” So it is with life. The journey is exciting. We love it and wish to linger. But ultimately this life is a bridge between worlds, and Home waits on the other side of crossing.
II. Abundant Life Is Also a Promise
Just as death means birth to life eternal, so does conversion mean re-birth to the abundant. “So, if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation; everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!” (v. 17).
Many people are familiar with Chuck Colson’s story and how he underwent a personal metamorphosis. Formerly a convicted Watergate criminal, he now is instrumental in ministry to the incarcerated. Colson’s previous experiences were a prelude to his new existence. The cocoon produced a butterfly.
A personal friend whose life crumbled has painstakingly rebuilt a new and devotedly Christian identity. He often concludes statements with the phrase, “That was in my former life.” For him, the new birth that Christ described to Nicodemus and Paul and affirmed in this passage was a moment of starting over. My friend became a new person. “So, if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation; everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!”
III. Judgment Is Not Our Prerogative
“From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view. . . . if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation” (vv. 16-17). When a person has experienced rebirth, it is not our role to judge his or her sincerity or to remind others of his or her former lifestyle.
I recall once commending a certain church member for his commitment to missions. He displayed in word and deed a genuine love for the underprivileged and dispossessed, and gave of himself graciously to assist them. A listener replied: “It’s true. He has become a great fellow. I remember when he was a drunken philanderer. What a wonderful change has occurred for him.” In one brief statement a person’s reputation was smeared and his authentic conversion was devalued.
“I remember when he was a drunken philanderer.” That statement served no purpose but to discredit and embarrass. It lacked compassion. Jesus would never have said something like that, and such is the standard for judging what we, too, should and should not say about others. (Michael Brown)
The Kingdom is Like . . .
Mark 4:26-34
There are so many things around us that make us wonder whether it is worth the effort to try to do mercy, love justice, and to live a life that is becoming to followers of Jesus Christ. Two thousand years of Christian faithfulness have gone by, and to judge by the mass media assaults on our consciousness, the world is worse instead of better.
What’s the use of trying to do good? Where are the signs of the coming of the kingdom of God?
There have been times in history when Christians were sure that the kingdom of God was just around the corner. During the periods of 1880 and 1920 in this country, we thought the kingdom was near. John D. Rockefeller, Jr., wrote in the Saturday Evening Post of February 1918: “I see the church molding the thought of the world as it has never done before, leading in all great movements of history as it should. I see it literally establishing the kingdom of God on earth.”
But now, as Bob Dylan once said, “We don’t talk so proud.” Now we are not so sure of the victory of goodness over evil.
The disciples of Jesus early in his ministry asked a lot of the same questions we ask today. “How come there aren’t more people at the service, Lord? If by their fruits ye shall know them, how come goodness seems to be having so few fruits?”
In response to their questions, Jesus told a series of parables—parables about sowing seed; about the different kinds of results; about the hidden growth and the harvest; about the mustard seed. These stories help us look at this coming kingdom of God and our participation in it.
I. The Coming Kingdom Is Assured
The good news is the assurance of a harvest. The kingdom will come. As surely as you and I can predict that death will come to each of us, Jesus says you can trust the forces of God’s mercy and grace and love to bring in the kingdom of God. Do not be discouraged by the size of the beginning; do not be concerned about the visible signs of the fruitiness of your efforts. The kingdom of God will come.
II. It Will Not Be a Kingdom of Our Making
The kingdom is one of grace and mercy that will come because God brings it. The church and the kingdom of God are the creation of God. The farmer does not know how the seed germinates and grows. Likewise, the kingdom of God grows in hidden, mysterious ways, independently of our human efforts.
The parable suggests that we are to be faithful farmers, sowers of the seed, and we are not to worry about the crop because God will produce the harvest. We are often tempted to become so caught up with worrying about the harvest that we neglect the sowing of the seed. Or we may forget that God keeps us in this world to act as ministers of reconciliation, to be salt to prevent the rotting from getting worse. Or we may be so depressed by the apparently unconquered power of evil that we lose all faith and thus contribute to the darkness.
Also, we may become so concerned with building the kingdom here on earth that we may forget that there is so much more to come. We may focus all of our attention on the possibilities of this world and forget that this world and all it offers are under judgment by the holiness of God. We may begin to equate our efforts and achievements with God’s kingdom and thus lose touch with the only true standard by which the events and accomplishments of this world can be measured.
III. God Calls Us to Faithfulness in Light of the Kingdom
When Elijah fled from Jezebel into the cave and complained to God that he was the only one left, God said, “Oh, hush, I have seven thousand who have not bowed a knee to Baal.” Jesus told the parables to help us hear the good news. The kingdom of God comes because it is God’s gift of mercy and grace. It comes as a wonderful surprise, as a gift of hope and as a miracle of love. Do not be discouraged; the kingdom will come. Do not neglect your part of faithfully scattering the seeds, but remember you are called simply to scatter the seeds and enjoy the new life that God has given you as his people. Do not neglect your calling; however, do not believe that your great society, your new deals, are God’s kingdom. The good news is that the harvest will come. (Rick Brand)

WORSHIP CONNECTION: JUNE 17, 2018 bby Nancy C. Townley read more
Fourth Sunday after Pentecost
COLOR: Green
SCRIPTURE READINGS: 1 Samuel 15:34–16:13; Psalm 20; 2 Corinthians 5:6-10 (11-13), 14-17; Mark 4:26-34
CALLS TO WORSHIP
Call to Worship #1
L: This is the day that the Lord has made!
P: Let us rejoice and be glad in it!
L: This is a day of new beginnings!
P: This is a time for growing into new disciples for Jesus.
L: Come, let us prepare ourselves for worship
P: Let us be prepared for service to God. AMEN.
Call to Worship #2
L: Welcome to worship today!
P: Thank you. We are glad to be here!
L: Open your eyes and your hearts to God’s spirit.
P: We open our lives to God’s word for us.
L: Rejoice! For God is with us this day!
P: Thanks be to God for God’s loving presence. AMEN.
Call to Worship #3
[Using THE FAITH WE SING, p. 2074, “Shout to the Lord”, offer the following call to worship as directed]
L: Rejoice! Proclaim God’s Presence!
P: Let our voices raise in joy! God is with us!
Choir: singing “Shout to the Lord” through one time.
L: Our savior Jesus is with us, offering us lessons in living and serving
P: Open our ears and our hearts to hear his words of encouragement.
L: Lift your voices in joyful praise.
P: All of our days we will praise and thank God for God’s love and mercy.
Choir: singing “Shout to the Lord” through two times.
Call to Worship #4
L: In all times and in all places, God is with us.
P: God’s love flows over and around us, lifting us in hope.
L: Shout for joy!
P: Sing praises to God!
L: Get ready to become disciples for Jesus.
P: Lord, make us ready to serve you. AMEN.
PRAYERS, READING, BENEDICTION
Opening Prayer:
Lord, we come this day, having seen the miracles of everyday creation in our world. We have enjoyed both the bright sunshine and the gentle rains. We have marveled over the beauty of flowers and the complexity of your creation. Make our hearts ready to receive your word for us, that we may go forth from this place ready to joyfully serve you all of our days. AMEN..
Prayer of Confession:
Patient Lord, you know how we are. We let the frustrations and worries of our lives overcome us. Our hearts seem to buckle under the weight of anger and confusion. And we turn away from you, sure that you can do nothing to alleviate our strife. How foolish we are! How faithless we are! Please forgive us. Help us to learn that you are actively involved in our lives, not as a “puppet master” but as a creative co-worker, seeking healing and hope not only for each of us, but for the whole world. Make us into disciples of peace and compassion; for we ask this in Jesus’ Name. AMEN.
Words of Assurance:
Let go of your fears and doubts. God pours God’s love on you, in you and through you to others. Be at peace. AMEN.
Pastoral Prayer:
Lord, in this season of growth, open our hearts to grow in your love. Help us to truly trust in your creative process in our lives. We look around and we see the beauty of your world, the blossoming flowers and plants, the growth of children, the joy of celebrations of graduation and marriage, of receiving new life. And we also see the sadness and sorrow that has invaded the world when systems of injustice and hatred lay claim to people’s lives. Prepare us, O Lord, to become ambassadors of peace and hope. Help us to place our trust in you, so that when we are serving others, they may come to know your abiding love and power. Give us courage and great joy as we serve you. AMEN.
Reading:
Reader 1: “Mary, Mary, quite contrary” how does your garden grow?” Good question! It grows with lots of work - preparing the soil, selecting the seeds, or sometimes seedlings, planting them just the right distance apart, watching for weeds, making sure that they are fed with the right plant food….how does my garden grow? Only with lots and lots of hard work!
Reader 2: Look at this! I just got these seeds from the church! Mustard seeds!
Reader 1: Like the ones you get on the spice aisle at the grocery store?
Reader 2: I don’t think so. These come from the nursery and plant place down the road. They were in a little packet. Look how small they are! I wonder what the plant will look like?

Reader 1: Well, look on the packet. Is there a picture?
Reader 2: They didn’t give us a packet….just the seeds in these tiny little plastic bags. They said to go home and plant them and see what would happen. I am afraid for them because they are so tiny - what kind of plant could come from inside this little grain?
Reader 1: There’s only one way to find out….plant them, give them, water, and sunlight, but, since you don’t know what kind of seed they are, don’t give them fertilizer, other than what is already in the soil - you might burn them. Those seeds will probably take special care.
Reader 2: I think that I will divide them into to little pots, so they aren’t crowded and so that if one doesn’t grow, maybe the other will have a chance.
Reader 1: Sounds good to me. Let me know what happens, OK?
Reader 2: OK.
Reader 3: “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come. The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed…..”
Benediction:
Feel the love of God growing within your heart. Go into God’s world, planting seeds of love, mercy, joy, and peace in all that you say and do. Be at peace and serve God. AMEN.
ARTISTIC ELEMENTS
The traditional color for this Sunday is: Green
[Note: Today’s Gospel lesson offers us the Parable of the Mustard Seed. This presents many creative opportunities for the worship artist. Create a scene which is dominated by a large shrub with many branches, the type in which a bird could build a nest. Additionally create a special packet of seeds to be given to each member in the congregation with the words “Grow in peace and love” written on an accompanying tag. These can be attached to the morning bulletin or handed out during the service]
SURFACE: Place a 6” riser on the center of the worship table, making sure that it is wide enough and sturdy enough to hold the large shrub.
FABRIC: Cover the worship center in burlap so that it puddles on the floor in front of the worship center. Take a long strip of 30” wide green fabric, wrap it around the base of the large shrub and let it trail down the front of the worship center onto the floor.
CANDLES: Place two white 10” pillar candles on either side of the large shrub, being careful to keep the flame away from the branches.
FLOWERS/FOLIAGE: Borrow a large leafy shrub from a church member or from the local florist - this should be the kind with branches in which a bird might nest.
[Note: be sure to write a recognition and thank you in the bulletin for the loan of the shrub]. Other smaller leafy plants may be placed near the base of the worship center. Some of these could be flowering plants, but the central plant on the worship center should be the large shrub.
ROCKS/WOOD: Not necessary for this setting
OTHER: Place the brass cross in front of the shrub, making sure that it does not cover the shrub. If the brass cross is too large, have someone make a smaller wood cross that would be painted white, to be placed in front of the shrub (it should be about 12” high). Prepare packets of seeds and notes to be placed in the bulletin or handed out. If you are able you might place some “birds” on the shrub and create a small nest that would be visible to the congregation. Be creative, but do not overwhelm the shrub with birds.
JUNE 17, 2018 by Yvette Davis read more
PREACHING ANNUAL
The Abingdon Preaching Annual includes:
The Primary Theme Fleshed out with brief, pithy nuggets of thought, idea jump-starters, or questions designed to spur the preacher’s imagination.
Secondary or Parallel Themes Two or three themes or streams of thought that are related to but separate from the primary theme offered.
Worship Helps Including Gathering Prayer, Collect, Pastoral Prayer, Congregational Prayer, Responsive Reading, and a Closing Prayer or Benediction.
Topical Essays These 700 word essays cover a variety of current and critical topics for the preacher—contributed by leading homileticians.
Full Sermons The full text from six to twelve sermons will be included. Additional are available online. These sermons will highlight best practices, unique approaches, and fresh voices.
Sermon Series Ideas This section will briefly outline and describe ideas for unique sermon series based on lectionary readings.
"As a weekly preacher, I often find that preparing for preaching and crafting sermons are spiritual disciplines for me. It is a time in which I try to quiet all of the other 'to do' lists that occupy much of my ministry. This resource from Abingdon Press will now be a partner in those conversations, almost like a new personal devotional guide. I am grateful for additional voices who can help me make space for God’s Living Word." - Shannon J Kershner, Pastor, Fourth Presbyterian Church, Chicago, IL
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JUNE 17, 2018 - HOLY IGNORANCE by William H. Willimon read more

PULPIT RESOURCE
INSPIRING-HUMOROUS-EDGY-CONFRONTING-RELEVANT
Welcome to the new Pulpit Resource from Will Willimon. For over three decades Pulpit Resource helps preachers prepare to preach. Now in partnership with Abingdon Press, this homiletical weekly is available with fresh and timely accessibility to a new generation of preachers.
No sermon is a solo production. Every preacher relies on inherited models, mentors in the preacher’s past, commentaries on biblical texts by people who have given their lives to such study, comments received from members of the congregation, last week’s news headlines, and all the other things that make a sermon communal.
No Christian does anything on their own. We live through the witness of the saints; preachers of the past inspire us and judge us. Scripture itself is a product of the community of faith. A host of now-forgotten teachers taught us how to speak. Nobody is born a preacher.
Pulpit Resource is equivalent to sitting down with a trusted clergy friend over a cup of coffee and asking, “What will you preach next Sunday?” Whenever I’ve been asked by new preachers, “How can I develop as a preacher?” my usual response is, “Get in a group of preachers. Meet regularly. Learn how to give and how to receive help. Sort through the advice of others, and utilize helpful insights.”
That’s Pulpit Resource.
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PREACHING WITH THE STORYTELLERS BIBLE: JUNE 17, 2018 by Common English Bible read more
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The following is a free excerpt from The CEB Storytellers Bible, a resource which helps readers see the big themes and important truths of the Bible while also guiding them in how to tell these stories in contemporary language. Over the course of four weeks, Ministry Matters will feature excerpts from the Storytellers Bible to match the Sunday lectionary. Read the third excerpt below.
Fourth Sunday after Pentecost
Mark 4:26-34
Mark 4:26-29 The Seed Growing Secretly
Jesus compares the rule of God with the mystery of a growing seed.
According to Mark 1:14-15, the permeating theme of the Gospel of Mark is the apocalyptic manifestation of the “rule” (CEB: “kingdom”) of God. As the Gospel of Mark unfolds, the listeners discover that Jesus is an agent through whom God’s invasion of the old world is beginning. In the strict sense, the rule of God is not dawning, for God has been sovereign all along. But God is now taking fresh steps to fully demonstrate the divine rule. According to Mark, while the first stages of the fresh manifestation took place in the earthly ministry of Jesus, the fulfillment of God’s promises awaits Jesus’s return. A cosmic cataclysm will complete the work of ending the rule of Satan and establishing the divine will in all things (Mark 13:24-27). The church lives in the interim between Jesus’ resurrection and his return in glory.
Mark 4:1-25 explains that God’s reign is showing itself afresh. This passage teaches the listeners how to interpret the parables, and to commit themselves unreservedly to the divine realm. Jesus encourages the disciples to give themselves unreservedly to the dawning of the rule of God, for “God will evaluate you with the same standard you use to evaluate others. Indeed, you will receive even more.” Meanwhile “even what they don’t have will be taken away” from those who turn away from God’s movement (4:24-25). The parable of the seed growing secretly helps the church understand how God’s rule is coming through Jesus and why they can believe it. The story creates an image intended to reinforce the confidence of the hearers in the coming of the full manifestation of the rule of God. The meaning of this parable is communicated as the listeners experience it. The coming of the rule of God is similar to the story in the parable.
A farmer broadcasts seed on the ground. Having just heard the parable of the sower, which stresses the act of sowing, the hearer is prepared to continue that emphasis. The farmer plays an essential role. But the farmer does not cause the seed to grow.
The ground produces the crop of its own energy. In only a few deft words, the parable causes us to envision the phases of growth. We see the tiny green blade poke its head through the soil. The stalk grows, and soon we see the ear. The preceding parable and its interpretation (Mark 4:1-9, 13-20) cause us to remember that organic development is not always unrelenting progress. Complications (such as thorns that choke the little plants) can retard growth, and even reverse it. Struggle is a part of growth, especially the manifestation of the rule of God.

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Mark uses the word “by itself” (Greek automate, from which we get our word “automatic”) to describe the process by which the earth brings forth its crop (4:28). This term occurs in the Septuagint (the Greek translation of the First Testament) in Leviticus 25:5 to refer to the growth that takes place in the sabbatical year, and in Leviticus 25:11 to refer to growth in the Jubilee year. Those plants appear in seasons of grace: they sprout and grow without any human effort. In Joshua 6:5, God causes the walls of the city of Jericho to fall of themselves before the Israelites. In retelling the story of the exodus, the Wisdom of Solomon describes a terrifying light shining on the Egyptians, a “fire that seemed to have a life of its own.” The Egyptians were soon “dying in fright” (17:6-10). In Acts 12:10, God frees the disciples from prison when the prison doors open of themselves. This term, then, prompts the hearer to realize that God’s gracious, liberating power is at work.
At last we see the mature grain in the ear. The process of growth takes place slowly but inexorably. When the grain is ripe, the farmer immediately comes with the sickle and harvests the crop. Several Jewish writers used the harvest motif to speak of the fulfillment of God’s purposes (Isaiah 27:12-13; 2 Esdr 4:28ff; 9:17, 31; 2 Baruch 70:2ff). Mark specifically echoes the similar usage in Joel 3:13. The larger context of Joel 3:9-17 announces divine comfort for suffering Israel (3:14-17) and violent destruction for Israel’s enemies (3:9-13). The harvest is a time of rejoicing for those who repent and welcome the incoming of the rule of God. But for those who resist, it is an occasion for judgment.
The mention of seed and growth also calls to mind Genesis 1:11-12. The process of growth is guaranteed by God, who created seeds to grow and mature. God promised Noah that seedtime and harvest would continue as long as the earth lasts (Gen 8:22). The continuation of the fruitfulness of the earth through the long years of human brokenness is a sign of divine faithfulness. Hence, people can trust the process by which the rule of God is coming. As God could be trusted in the first creation, so God will prove trustworthy for the new creation.
The situation of Mark’s community is similar to the situation in the parable. Why should Christians continue to plant the hope for a new world in the face of the ongoing pain and evil in the present age? We can continue to believe that a new creation is growing because the God who created once has promised to recreate. The community cannot know the day or the hour of the harvest (Mark 13:32-37). Indeed, in the midst of the suffering of the world, signs of struggle may be more prominent than signs of the coming of God. Like the seed germinating invisibly below the surface of the soil, the rule of God is sometimes at work below the surface of current events. We patiently continue our planting and waiting. For the growth cannot be stopped, even if it does not come quickly.
The echo from Joel reminds the listening community that the stakes are high. Those who continue steadfastly will join the full grain in the basket. Those who turn away fall under judgment.

* * *
4:30-32 (Matthew 13:31-32; Luke 13:18-19) — The Mustard Seed
The rule of God is like a tiny mustard seed that grows into a giant bush.
Many of the comments from our previous encounter with the parable of the seed growing secretly (Mark 4:26-29) can be adapted to the parable of the mustard seed. This story, too, is a comparison with the rule of God. The parable of the mustard seed also draws upon agricultural imagery familiar to first-century listeners. It invokes the motif of growth.
As listeners, our first impression is of the mustard seed, which the story calls “the smallest of all the seeds on the earth.” While this identification is not strictly true (the orchid seed is smaller), the narrator is directly preparing us for the contrast between the tiny seed and the large bush. The mustard plant reaches a minimum of four feet in height, and can grow to eight or twelve feet. In antiquity, much as today, mustard was used as a condiment. It could transform a bland food into a spicy delicacy. It was also used as a medicine for problems ranging from snake bites to stomach troubles and sneezing. The hearer thus thinks of the rule of God as a healing realm. The mustard plant spread so rapidly that it was seldom planted in a garden. The energetic growth of the mustard plant leads the listener to imagine similar energy in the dominion of God.
The experience of contrast is central to the meaning of the story. We see the tiny seed, and then we are surprised by the giant bush that results. The beginning of the cosmic manifestation of God’s rule is like the mustard seed: so tiny as to be overlooked. What could be less auspicious than a crucified carpenter who traveled around Palestine preaching, teaching, and working an occasional miracle? What could be less impressive than the ragged church Jesus left behind to claim that he was raised from the dead and that he would return again in heavenly power and glory?
In the Markan version of the parable, the fully grown mustard plant is described only as a “plant” (NRSV). Both Matthew and Luke speak of it as a tree. Scholars debate whether an essential difference results from the divergence between plant and tree.
According to one interpretation, the shrub of Mark is a direct contrast to certain trees in the Hebrew Bible. In Ezekiel 31:1-18 and in Daniel 4:10-12, 20-27, large trees represent powerful, idolatrous empires that are destroyed. Some scholars contend that Mark deliberately avoids calling the mustard plant a “tree” in order to indicate that the rule of God appears to be less than it actually is. Egypt, Babylon, and other haughty empires, full of pride, called themselves trees, but they were cut down. Under divine impulse, the humble mustard plant will become greater than the cedars of Lebanon. Mark’s use of the term shrub is thus seen as a critique of all earthly pretensions to power.
While this interpretation is attractive, I think it unlikely. Why would Matthew and Luke replace such an association with “tree”? A plant twelve feet high can qualify, at least figuratively, as a tree. Furthermore, trees can function positively in Hebrew tradition. In Ezekiel 17:22-24, God describes the restoration of fallen Israel as taking “a tender shoot from its crown” and planting it to “grow into a mighty cedar.” Large, well-watered trees can represent God’s providential care (Ps 104:12, 16-17). The motif of contrast again comes into play: the future, cosmic tree is continuous with the tiny mustard seed.
The picture of the birds nesting on the large branches creates an image of trust and security in the hearer. When we identify with God’s coming rule, we feel similarly.
Further, in Ezekiel 17:23; 31:5-6; and Daniel 4:12, birds nesting in branches bespeak the diverse inhabitants of the dominions represented by the trees. In 1 Enoch 90:2-3, 30-37 and in Joseph and Aseneth 15:7, birds specifically portray Gentiles. The rule of God is cosmic in scope and international in population.
Today’s preacher or teacher occasionally claims that the presence of Gentiles in the cosmic dominion of God offends Jewish exclusivism. Quite the contrary. At its best, Judaism understands its witness to be for the sake of the whole human family and the larger natural world (as in Gen 12:1-3; whole human family (Isa 2:2-4; 25:6-8; 44:5; 60:4-7; Jer 16:19-20; Mic 4:1-3; Zech 8:20-23; 1 Enoch 90:13, 37-38; 91:14; Sibylline Oracles 3:767-795; Tob 13:6). Early Christians believed that the knowledge of God that had been enjoyed by Israel since Abraham and Sarah was extended to Gentiles through Jesus Christ. The presence of the birds in the tree in the parables indicates that the rule of God includes the great Gentile ingathering. The purpose of the Markan church is to witness among Gentiles (Mark 13:10). Since the birds in Ezekiel 31 and Daniel 4 are subjects of pagan empires, their appearance in Mark’s tree suggests that in the rule of God, even idolaters can be transformed.
Matthew’s version of the parable of the mustard seed (13:31-32) is not substantially different from Mark’s. Matthew places the parable in a collection of parables where its function is similar to its role in Mark 4: it provides information about the rule of God.
Luke 13:18-19 abbreviates the story. Luke also changes the place of planting from the “ground” to a garden. As he does elsewhere, Luke probably changes this detail in order to make the story more understandable to people who live in cities and who might have an herb garden. Luke also puts the parable in a new context. In 12:49-59, Jesus announces that the time of judgment is coming. In 13:1-9, Jesus stresses that all who do not repent will perish under judgment. In 13:10-17, Jesus embodies the rule of God by healing a bent-over woman in a synagogue on the sabbath. The leader of the synagogue upbraids Jesus for healing on the sabbath. As a commentary on the incident, Jesus then tells the parables of the mustard seed and the leaven. The parables remind the listeners that while their witness to the divine rule may bring them into conflict with authorities, the reign of God is inevitably coming. When the rule of God is fully manifest, those who do not repent will perish. Those who welcome the coming of God in events such as the healing of the woman will nest in the tree of God’s rule.


WEEKLY PREACHING: JUNE 17, 2018 by James C. Howell read more
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1 Samuel 16 gifts us with one of the Old Testament’s signature theological texts. I preached a sermon I felt pretty good about on this three years ago, and another two years ago. Although it makes for a longer reading, it is well that our lectionary picks up at 15:34. Samuel doesn’t anoint David out of the blue, but only in the wake of his grief and God’s sorrow over the debacle that was King Saul. God, ever true to God’s self, grieves for a time and then unfolds the new thing God will do.
Samuel’s mission, to anoint the new king — even though it’s only a proleptic anointing, as Saul will reign for quite a while after David is soaked in oil — must be sneaky, surreptitious, clandestine. It’s intriguing that Jesus, too, the anointed one, the Messiah, was rather on the secretive side about his reign during his ministry; Mark pictures him shushing the disciples. The powers that dominated the world then would have snickered at the notion that Augustus or Tiberius was not emperor, or that Herod (or Herod Antipas) was not king for much longer.
Walking your people back through the story, which is so very vivid, is helpful (if you don’t belabor it for too long). What were Jesse’s feelings when he learned one of his sons would be king? Pride? Shock? A fearful trembling? He called them together and lined them up by age, height, and brawn. But one-by-one, Samuel dismissed them: the strapping Eliab, the burly Abinadab, the finely-chiseled Shammah. Seven altogether. The preacher can use hands, standing on tiptoe, gesturing to illustrate the gradually receding bulk of these fine boys.
The Lord spoke each time to Samuel — but how? Did the others hear? Was it a whisper? An interior voice? The Lord said, “Have no regard for his appearance or stature, because I haven’t selected him. God doesn’t look at things like humans do. Humans see only what is visible to the eyes, but the Lord sees into the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7). Preachers can expand upon this at length.
We might want to locate times the meek and unlikely were the game-changers. We might compare God’s vision to the way Thomas Kuhn spoke of revolutions in perspective: people thought the world was flat until Copernicus explained things from a very different viewpoint; nothing was ever the same. God’s way isn’t about ability, strength, IQ, street smarts, agility, or savvy. It’s about the “heart” — although really it’s just about God choosing whom God chooses.


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Puzzled, Samuel shrugged. Only then did Jesse acknowledge that, well, yes, “There is still the youngest one… but he’s out keeping the sheep” (v. 11). The obvious deduction is that Jesse didn’t even consider the possibility that this little one might be the one. But could it be that Jesse actually feared David might be the one? That he saw unprecedented potential in him? Or perhaps he was simply the one he loved the most — the unexpected child of old age, the apple of his eye? The writer does note that David “was reddish brown, had beautiful eyes, and was good-looking” (v. 12). Perhaps Jesse wanted to keep this small but handsome one home to shelter him for himself and from the perils of kingship.
Christian history features so many stories of parents blocking their children’s calling to sainthood. Francis of Assisi’s father, Pietro, was so mortified when his son began giving to the poor with total abandon that he took him to court and disowned him. Pope Francis’ mother was crushed when he reported he was headed into the priesthood instead of to medical school, and she would not speak to him or forgive him for some time. How many women and men never became great heroes of the church because parents restrained them and wouldn’t let go?
Francesca Aran Murphy points out that there is not one divine miracle in the entire sixteen chapters of the story of David’s rise from obscurity to power. As she puts it, “God’s working has gone underground.” Leaders understand that God’s working generally is underground; rarely does anything remotely miraculous save the day. What matters is trusting that God’s working is still going on, as unseen as water being soaked up by the roots of a tree.
Or, maybe we develop a different kind of seeing. The verb see (ra’ah) occurs six times in the story of David’s anointing: “the Lord does not see as mortals see” (v. 7 NRSV). How does God see? How can we see as God sees? Can we see things as they really are instead of being deceived by what is only superficially visible? As Gandalf wrote in a letter to Frodo in The Lord of the Rings, “All that is gold does not glitter.” In The Little Prince we find this memorable quote: “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” Or that Native American saying: “We teach our children to see when there is nothing to see, and to listen where there is nothing to hear.” It’s common to say a leader is responsible for having a vision; 1 Samuel’s take might be that the leader is someone who can see and who sees clearly and deeply.
The Hebrew word for “see,” ra’ah, is one barely distinguishable sound away from ra‘ah, the word for “shepherd.” We might think of shepherds as lowly and despised, poor laborers of no account. Yet there is always an ambiguity to the image of a shepherd. Yes, they spent their days and nights outdoors with smelly animals who tended to nibble themselves lost. Mothers didn’t fantasize that their daughters would marry shepherds one day. And yet in the agrarian, pastoral culture of the world in those days, where sheep were everywhere and they mattered for survival, even the mightiest kings of Sumer, Babylon, Assyria, and Egypt were often dubbed the “shepherds” of their people. David was a shepherd boy, but his responsibilities — to care for the flock, ensure they got food and water, protect them from harm, bring them safely home — were identical to those of a good ruler.
Don’t many of our stories wind up like David’s? Public events and private lives twist, turn, and collide. The pursuits of power and pleasure get mixed up with efforts to be pious and faithful, and the results are mixed. This is life in God’s world: we do our best, but then cruel processes of history steamroll everybody. Yet somehow, they almost accidentally further God’s kingdom. Does God cause or even superintend all this? We live, always, with this mystery: where is God in it all? There are hints, clues, guesses, wonderings. But who can be sure?

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The epistle, 2 Corinthians 5:6-10, (11-13), 14-17, flawlessly picks up on this vision thing. “We walk by faith, not by sight.” Faith is a peculiar way of seeing. I recall David Steinmetz, lecturing the Reformation, explaining how most theologians trusted in what they could see, but Martin Luther insisted that the organ of faith is the ear, not the eye. “The eyes are hard of hearing.” What we see can deceive, but the Word we hear is trustworthy, enduring forever, creative of new, unseen life.
Two little details beg for attention. Paul suggests that the purpose of life isn’t to be good or do good but to please the Lord. Want to know how fabulous, significant and powerful you are? You have the ability to please God — or to displease God. God opens God’s holy self to the vulnerability of being pleased, or not, by people like us. We know we will falter terribly, but I take heart from the famous Merton prayer,
“My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.”
At the same time, it is hard to scare up a mainline denominational sermon that dares to speak about Paul’s insistence that we will all appear before the judgment seat of Christ. What we do, and how we live, is deadly serious. God wants us to envision that day of judgment (as the daily prayer in the 1928 Book of Common Prayer puts it, “Imprint upon our hearts such a dread of thy judgments, and such a grateful sense of thy goodness to us, as may make us both afraid and ashamed to offend thee.”
And yet we needn’t tremble as we enter the courtroom. God is judge and prosecuting attorney, but God is also my defender and the jury. God wants me to be released from bondage more than I do. God’s is no fair, blind justice. God is absurdly, intensely, passionately biased toward us. So yes, humbly approach the seat of justice — the God waiting for us is the one who shed his blood for us, who healed the sick, who touched the untouchables, who forgave those nobody else would tolerate.
Notice that in this season, the lectionary adds verses 18-21, which I like. This business of reconciling and being ambassadors for God, the universal scope of it, not merely individual or personal of God’s work and our ministry, is just staggering, beautiful, and hopeful. I preached on 2 Corinthians 5:14-20 last year and focused on all this. Our church was engaged in a marvelous and impactful ten-week series on Reconciliation with Christena Cleveland, Ben Witherington, Brenda Tapia, Matt Rawle and more; see videos and other resources here. I have no doubt that reconciliation is God’s clearest calling to the church in our day, summoning us beyond simplistic forms of forgiveness, urging us to connect at a deep level with others — in fractured relationships; in a divided denomination; in a broken world; with other religions; in our communities; and in mission, which isn’t the haves doing for the have-notes, but lost people finding one another, sharing their gifts, journeying together. No one has spoken more eloquently of this than Sam Wells, first in A Nazareth Manifesto, and then in his Incarnational Ministry and its companion, Incarnational Mission

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Finally, we come to the Gospel (Mark 4:26-34), which is fine (of course), but for me is just not as interesting as the Old Testament and Epistle — or the other moments when Jesus speaks of sowing seed (earlier in Mark 4!). Jesus wouldn’t have known what we smart modern people know (unless you need to attribute omniscience to the earthly Jesus and pit him against farming realities), that, horticulturally speaking, the mustard seed isn’t actually the smallest; orchid seeds, and maybe others are tinier.
This parable is utterly uninterested in human efforts (which is required for farming to happen well); I’m reminded of the old joke about the guy who bought an abandoned farm, cleared the fields, plowed, planted… Then, as his crops came in, the local preacher said to him, “Look what God has done!” To which the farmer replied, “Well yes, but do you remember what it was like when God was working this farm alone?”
Still, Mark’s theology is on target: the real growth, the miracle of the seed, soil, sun and rain, comes from God. I cannot pass here without directing all preachers to the most moving, helpful sermon I’ve ever heard directed to clergy from my friend Bishop Claude Alexander (watch here, and don’t miss the music that follows his sermon!). His way of speaking of God’s hand being on the field while the farmer sleeps: brilliant, encouraging, and theologically humbling and hopeful.
"What can we say come June 17? 4th after Pentecost" originally appeared on James Howell's Weekly Preaching Notions. Reprinted with permission.

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