The Hills Are Alive with the Sound

Micah 6:1-2, 8; Psalm 15:1-3; Matthew 5:1-12

There are sounds all around us that we never hear. We must carefully attune our ears or we miss the sounds.  Some people have no hearing, or very little hearing. Some people are profoundly deaf. And yet, they often "hear" more of the world than those of us who are capable of hearing because we simply can't stop and focus long enough to really listen to the world around us. People who can't hear have heightened their other senses so that the world IS attended to, IS noticed, and likely appreciated.

So, take a moment and listen to the sounds you hear right now.  I hear traffic driving steadily down Lookout Road. I hear the keyboard keys clicking. I hear the hum of what must be the heat vent. I hear the clock ticking.  And yet, most days, I never tune in to hear any of those sounds just mentioned.

Such is it with the voices of those in need, or the persecuted, or the marginalized. This week's scriptures from the prophet Micah, the Psalmist, and the gospel writer of Matthew tell us in very clear ways that we are to hear the sound of those in need and that we are to be kind and loving and compassionate. Then, we are living into the kingdom of God.  

From the mountain, Jesus preaches these famous "blessed are the..." words. The beatitudes.  In Micah, the mountains are listening to God as he laments the people's errant ways. The psalmist proclaims that those who can live on God's holy hill are those who are blameless and doing what is right.

From the mountains, then, the voice of justice cries out. From the mountains, God pleas for justice.  

And yet, on any given moment of any given day, we drive by mountains and do not hear what is going on, do not look to the mountains for a message, do not do anything perhaps but keep our eye on the road in front of our own journey.

In what ways can we stop. look. listen. and REALLY hear the world around us? We can start by trying to tune into the sounds in our immediate world. Then perhaps we can try to connect those sounds to the world beyond us.  And connect our lives to the lives outside or walls. And connect our hearts to the hearts outside ourselves.

What do you hear in your world today? Email me or comment below.

"Ice Fishing"

Matthew 4:12-23

There's fishing... and then there's ice fishing.  One is more challenging, though both are fraught with chance and skill in ways that are amazing to those of us who don't fish very well.  But, ice fishing is complicated by the.... ice.  You have to go out there and carve out a hole in the ice and know what the best place to do that is, and ... well, it just seems harder to me.

This week's scripture is another one of those immediately following Jesus kinds of stories. In this week's story we read another account of people being drawn to Jesus.
As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea for they were fishermen.

And he said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people."  Immediately they left their nets and followed him.

 Inevitably, people wonder how they managed to do that. What were their lives like that they could just walk away from them and follow Jesus?  And we don't really know how or why or if that happens exactly like we imagine, but the writer of Matthew is intent on us believing they had THAT level of faith in this man they followed. And so was the writer of John in last week's reading.

Commitment, sacrifice, willingness to abandon a way of life for another... those are traits the gospel writers are suggesting disciples had and have.  Like those who brave the conditions and the circumstances to go out and carve a hole in the ice in hopes of making a great catch.  Ice fishing requires commitment, sacrifice of creature comforts and a focus on a way of life that not many are willing to join in... ice fishing as a recreational sport is not for the faint of heart or those who expect instant results.  It is methodical, takes planning and focus.

I wonder if Jesus and the early disciples viewed their ministry in that way? Even though we have these dramatic accounts of people who dropped their nets and their plans and followed Jesus, I wonder if the inner circle including Jesus wasn't more intentional about their way of life. Were they methodical in where they went, who they saw, who they expected to see them? Were they fishing for a certain kind of person, the person no one else was willing to allow into the fold?  It's really interesting food for thought.

And in John 3, the Lutheran Seminary lectionary text for this week, we read of the encompassing love of God. "For God so loved the world."  The beginning of a passage that has been so taken out of context. A passage that is not at all about condemnation of those who don't follow, but rather a passage about God's encompassing love for THE WHOLE WORLD.  If we truly follow that God of love, if Jesus truly was that LOVE incarnate on earth, then we, too, must be willing to embody and carry that love to the world.

That sort of love would make ice fishing so much easier. Because God love is warm and all encompassing and eternal.  So we would no longer have to carve through the icy hearts and minds of today's cynicism, but we would allow God to melt our ice away and catch us up in a net of compassion and goodwill and justice.

How do we 'carve' out places in our icy world to fish for people today?  How could we warm the icy waters instead?  What role do we have in becoming Methodists who offer warmed hearts instead of icy doctrines and rules?  Email me or comment below.

Weather Watch: Snowcast

Psalm 40:1-11

John 1:29-39

This is a transitional place in the gospel of John. John has just baptized Jesus and Jesus is just about to start his public ministry. In the other gospel accounts, just after Jesus is baptized he goes into the wilderness and is faced with the forty days of temptation.  Not so in John. In John, Jesus is announced in a manner of speaking by John.  

The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, ‘Look, here is the Lamb of God!’The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, ‘What are you looking for?’ They said to him, ‘Rabbi’ (which translated means Teacher), ‘where are you staying?’ He said to them, ‘Come and see.’ 

It's like Jesus' "Here's Johnny!" moment with John playing the part of Ed McMahon.  John declares "Here is the Lamb of God," and the people nearby are interested.  Interested that he is being called the Lamb of God (a lamb was a sacrifice at the altar) and interested in what this man is about.  They want to know where he is staying.  They follow him almost immediately.  It's weird, really, "The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus."  Just like that. Really?

When you hear a weather forecast for snow, do you immediately go prepare for the snow, or do you doubt for a while first?  I know that I don't often believe it the first time I hear it. The weather forecasters must tell me for days on end that snow is coming before I actually can buy into the "snow is coming" reality.  Did Jesus have such an aura about him that they immediately felt compelled to follow? Or is John portraying Jesus this way to make a point about following the lamb to sacrifice?

This Sunday is Human Relations Sunday in the UMC. It is the Sunday before Martin Luther King, Jr Day. It is a time to remember our call to right the injustices of the world, to align ourselves with the oppressed, to recognize that we can transform our world in little bitty ways and great big ways.

Did Martin Luther King, Jr and all those in the Civil Rights movement just go immediately? Or did they have to be in the desert for awhile to build up to the cause?  I am not sure of each inner mind's thoughts, but they did have to have a sense of 'the climate shifting,' and knew that it would only continue to shift if they got involved.  The sense of sacrifice and call to duty of MLK, Jr who gave his life fighting for freedom and respect and civil rights for African Americans is what we honor on the holiday.  

I wonder, when John announces Jesus as 'the lamb of God,' if he is fully aware of the sacrifices he has ahead of him, can he feel a climate shift?  Is Jesus able to forecast the darkness ahead? Or does he have to hear the words of the prophets over and over again before he can grab onto the reality?

What do you believe without persuasion in this faith journey? What takes time for you to believe?  Email me or comment below.

"Digging Out After the Big Snow"

Isaiah 42:1-9
Matthew 3:13-17

So baptism used to not be like it is now. It used to be you walked out into the river and got dunked under and you came up with river dirt in your hair and between your toes, and you felt whiter than snow. And in Jesus' day, it wasn't supposed to be this moment of joining the church or being brought into the Kingdom of God. It was a purity ritual  that you participated in so that you would be cleansed and purified before offering a sacrifice at the temple. You had to be washed before heading into the temple.

Somewhere along the line we brought the baptism ritual into the church and it became sanitary and nice and pretty and churchy.

It wasn't always that way.  I think baptism, even in early Christian tradition, used to be far more visceral and messy. It used to be out in the world, out in nature, not inside a fancy sanctuary.  Kind of like looking at a snowstorm out your living room window is much different than being stuck in it with your car or on foot and trying to dig out of it.  You really GET the storm when you are forced to dig your way through or out of it.

Baptism, in classic mainline Protestant terms, is usually a sacrament given to infants or children when their parents have made the decision that they are ready for the children's lives to be publicly marked by God. They are ready to commit as parents to being a Christian family and raise the children in a Christian home.  So, remembering your baptism is the visceral way many of us have of connecting to that moment in time. Some of us were baptized later and we remember well the feelings and emotions associated with that event. Either way, we have become too complacent in our celebration of this sacrament. It has become too routine.

What if we got down and dirty and were completely overtaken by the waters of Baptism?  What if we felt the sand or mud between our toes? What if we felt the rush of water pour over our heads?  Baptism is supposed to be shocking.   We are supposed to have our breath taken away by how it feels to be overtaken by the Spirit Waters.  

What if we thought, today at least, of Baptism as a big snowstorm that over takes us. That takes our sensibilities away and grabs us unexpectedly and pulls us off the road.  We have absolutely NO control over that snowstorm... it is here and it is pouring down on us fast and furious... we have to allow it to do what it does.

But then, the snow stops. The skies open up and clear (the heavens were opened up to him).  You get out and dig out your car... get it off and running again and slowly, carefully, head down the road. Ahead of you are lights, houses, people waiting for you (a dove descends).  People say, "Glad you are home, we were worried about you." (a voice from heaven speaks).

I think remembering our baptisms or being baptized should be a visceral event. It should feel like you have been overtaken by the snow, or been dunked under in the local swimming hole, or been knocked over by a wave in the ocean.  It should feel THAT dangerous, THAT crazy out of control.  And then, after that loss of equilibrium, you dig your way out...find your way out... come up for a new breath. And you are changed because of the overwhelming event that just happened.

Do you remember being overwhelmed if you were baptized as a youth or adult? Do you remember being overwhelmed when your kids were baptized as infants?  What ritual would make you feel overwhelmed by the Spirit today?  Email me or comment below.