The garden season is almost over. I am currently enjoying fresh greens: lettuce, turnip greens, spinach, and Swiss chard. The bok choy is almost ready to eat. I had enjoyed these leafy vegetables in the spring, too, but they die out once the weather warms up. I also have a large bounty of winter squash to enjoy with three varieties: butternut, acorn, and delicata. I really need a larger garden so I can grow and experiment more with various types of squash and pumpkin! And soon, there’ll be root vegetables to roast and to blend into soups: beets and turnips.
Lettuce, Swiss chard, turnips & beets
The blessings that are gone for the season:
Last sandwich of the season
Gone are the summer squash: zucchini and yellow squash. Gone are peppers, although I have enough for one more round of poppers (half of a jalapeno pepper packed with cream cheese and wrapped in bacon and baked). Gone are the tomatoes. There were only a few days between late July and the day before I left for Michigan that I didn’t have a sandwich that featured a thick sliced tomato. For prosperity’s sake, I took a photo of the last sandwich of the season.
The blessings saved for another season:
Canning on the back deck
But there’s plenty saved for winter, too: sweet lime pickles like my grandmother made (34 pints), salad cube pickles made from too large cucumbers (11 pints), salsa (25 pints), tomato soup (43 pints), chow chow (6 pints).
This year’s plantings and lessons learned
Planting cucumbers
Unlike previous years where I purchased my tomatoes and peppers and other plants and then transplanted them into the garden, this summer I grew everything from seed: tomatoes (7 varieties: Salvaterra, Select Paste, San Marrano Paste, Cherokee Purple, Brandywine, Amish Paste, Dester, and Virginia Romaine), peppers (bell and jalapeno), cucumbers (4 varieties: Early Fortune, Japanese Climbing, Russian Pickling, and Arkansas Little Leaf), and eggplant. Sadly, the only plant that never produced was eggplant. It likes hot weather, and I planted it a month after tomatoes. Next year I will try to plant my eggplant earlier. After last year’s failure with okra (I only got one mess of okra before cool weather returned), I didn’t plant any this year. Next year, I might try starting it inside and transplanting outside when it’s warmer. I also struck out with Kohlrabi. I would like to try more crops, but my deer protected garden is only 1250 square feet.
I really need to take a photo of the whole garden when it’s growing!
Waiting for the sun (on a day that turned out stormy)
Did you miss my sermon on Sunday? Well, I ran away last week. And through this week I will have limited internet. My technology dry spell continues through the weekend. Next week, I’ll be at Calvin University and Seminary in Grand Rapids, Michigan. But right now I am in a beautiful part of God’s creation, Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. I’m staying in DeTour Village, watching the freighters sail by. I am also doing a lot of reading and planning. Many of the books I brought with me I read years ago, but I’m reviewing them for a seminar group I meet with next week. Others are new books to me, which I’m reading for the first time.
Can you guess which books I’ve read before? And which are new to me? Hint, I’ve read 7 of the 13 books in the photo.
Last weekend, I was blessed with a visit from Robert and Donna, friends of mine from my Utah days. They, along with Robert’s sister (who took the photo below before church on Sunday) are on a cross-country trip and spent three days with me. While Robert and I come from different theological traditions, talking theology with him is always enlightening and I much appreciate his insights. On Saturday, we made a trip up to the Soo Locks at Sault Ste. Marie.
Do you like my Jerry Garcia designed tie?
Robert watching a 700+ foot freighter move through the Poe Locks
A freighter passing by last Friday, before the weather went south….
I’ve learned something new this week. That’s always good, to learn something new… In the yard by the house where I’m staying there are two apple trees overflowing with fruit… The fruit that drops from these trees are being eaten by sea gulls. I never knew gulls would eat apples. I also expect I’ll have to find a car wash when I leave this place!
Jeff Garrison Bluemont and Mayberry Church September 18, 2022 Galatians 1:11-2:10
Sermon recorded at Bluemont Church on Friday, September 16, 2022.
At the beginning of worship
Why do we tell our stories? What purpose do they serve?
Well, they can be entertaining, which is important. I like to laugh. It’s good for the soul.
But there are more important purposes to our stories. I have heard about the early days of Mayberry Church, when one of the jobs of the handful of boys in the community was to get up early on Sunday mornings and head down to the church to light the fire in the old potbelly stove. I’m sure at the time, the boys didn’t think much of their assignments. But it made enough of an impression that it’s still told long after their deaths and the church converted to central heat and air.
The late William Zinsser, a dean of creative writing, says this about writing on places and institutions, be it a school, church, business, or so forth.
Institutions and places have no life of their own. You must bring them to life with men and women and children… Look for the human connection as you make your journey. Connect us to the people who connected with you.[1]
Stories help us understand and to connect with one another. It is through our stories, especially if we approach them truthfully and with eyes of faith, that we see God working in our lives. Stories help us come to faith. They can also help us share our faith.
Before reading the scriptures
Early this year I preached through Paul’s letter to the Galatians, but I left out a part.[2] You’ve probably forgotten, but as we began working through the letter, I told you I wanted to come back and catch up on the part I skipped. This section straddles the end of the first and beginning of the second chapters of the letter.
If you remember back to those sermons on this letter, Paul was concerned about what was going on within the church there in Asia Minor, a part of the world now a part of the country of Turkey. In Galatia, Paul has become aware that some are leaving the church for a different gospel. This troubles Paul for he doesn’t know of any other gospel, at least not one that leads to eternal life. So, he writes this letter to encourage the Galatians to remain truth to the gospel of Jesus Christ.
After stating the problem in the Galatian church,[3] Paul sets out to establish his credentials. After all, what makes Paul so special? Why is he any more reliable than other preachers who suggest another way? Paul’s story, as we will see in this text, help him establish credibility.
What does it take to become a Minister of the Word and Sacrament, the official title of ordained clergy, within the Presbyterian Church?
First, there must be a calling from God. An individual may sense such a calling and be drawn toward ministry. For some of us, this process occurred over years. For others, it was a surprise. I know one minister who started out on a scientific track in college. His family didn’t attend church. He was unaware of Jesus. But after taking a required class in college, he became interested in the faith and ended up a Presbyterian minister.[4] This calling from God is quite personal and unique for every person.
My story
For some unknown reason, even for me, I told Grandma I was going to be a Presbyterian minister when I was ten years old. I can still remember having that conversation on the deck of a beach house on Topsoil Island. As soon as it was out of my mouth, I wondered where that idea came from.
Almost two decades later, I found myself wrestling with the possibility of seminary. On a winter backpacking trip in the Smoky Mountains, I told God I’d go. It felt as if someone lifted my pack off my back. Later, as I questioned my plans for seminary, I heard a voice in dream saying I should go. Don’t ask me how, but I knew that voice to be God.
But it wasn’t just God who affirmed this call. There were others. Ministers with whom I’d known through my work with the Boy Scouts of America who encouraged me. Some were Presbyterian, but at least two other significant ones were Lutherans. Then there was the late Bob Ratchford, one of my pastors who, when I called him after that backpacking trip, asked why it had taken me so long to come to this decision. I was shocked as we had never discussed ministry before.
Several weeks ago, when I was at Montreat Presbyterian Conference Center, I ran into David McKee. He and Bob served as co-pastors of the church I was a member of at the time. We spent an hour discussing my decision to go to seminary. What an affirming talk as I learned that he and Bob had discussed me going to seminary even before I made that call.
The Presbyterian Call System
In the Presbyterian system, feeling that one has a call from God to become in a minister isn’t enough. One must have the support of the Session of a church and of the Presbytery. One must prepare through study. And finally, before ordination, one must have been confirmed to a call by a congregation that’ll have you as a minister.
There are a lot of checks and balances in the system. For you see, the call which comes from God needs to be confirmed by others. Even Paul mentions doing this in chapter 2, verse 2. Otherwise, we may deceive ourselves. As we know too well, people can have some crazy ideas about what God wants them to do. On the extreme, we end up with mass murder and suicide in places like Jonestown and the World Trade Center. If you think God wants you to do something, especially something outrageous, always check God’s Word and with others.
What we learn from today’s text
In today’s passage Paul attempts to do three thing things: He wants to convince the Galatians that he is an Apostle of Jesus Christ. He is concerned for church unity. Third, he illustrates the division of labor the Jerusalem Church has set up. Paul will reach out to the gentiles while others are assigned to carry on the church’s Jewish mission.
Paul’s Apostleship
Let’s look at the three of these points. As for Paul’s Apostleship, Paul insists his call is from God, but he also goes into detail to show how his call has been confirmed by the “mother church” in Jerusalem. Paul has made two trips there. His details vary some with the story we have of Paul’s calling in Acts, which probably has more to do with what Paul is trying to do by telling his story.[5]
Paul wants the Galatians to know that he’s the real thing. Yes, his call comes from God, and no one can take that away from him. Yet, it’s still important for Paul to point out he has the support of the Jerusalem Church. They confirm his call to take the message to the Gentile world.
Instead of talking about the Damascus Road experience here, Paul just says that his call came directly from a revelation of Jesus Christ. This call changed Paul from a persecutor of the church to its biggest missionary. On the other hand, in Acts, we hear nothing of Paul’s journey into Arabia. This, I suggest, is a difference of perspective.
In Acts, Luke is more interested in telling Paul’s story in relationship to tell the story of the expanding missionary activity in Europe. Paul, on the other hand, attempts to establish with the Galatians a legitimacy for his teachings.
Church unity
Second, Paul has a concern for church unity. While he sees his call from God and not Jerusalem, he still understands the importance of the church in Jerusalem. When they ask him for help with the poor, Paul goes all out. You see this especially in his second letter to the Corinthians.[6] He wants the gentile church to help the Jewish church in Jerusalem, a church 100s of miles away.
Division of labor
And finally, Paul sees the importance of a division of labor. Last week, if you remember, we heard Jesus talk about the harvest being reading and the workers being few. Paul is content to let Peter, James, and John reach out to the Jews while he and others such as Barnabas and Titus, reach out into the Gentile world. If the church is to be worldwide, it means different people will have different tasks. We all work for the same Lord, but each with a different focus. Together, our combined efforts make up the church.
Today’s applications
How can we apply Paul’s letter to our lives? First, think about Paul who was so convinced that his persecution of the church was right and noble. But when he meets Christ, he’s changed. He still serves the same God, but now better understands God’s mission. God reaches beyond Paul’s myopic vision. Might we also have our eyes opened and see that what God is doing in the world. And might we want to answer God’s call to be a part of such a vision. Changing our mind when it comes to God work in the world is noble, as we see with Paul.
Second, we see the importance of unity despite the different focus when it comes to our ministry. One ministry is not superior to the other. All are important in helping to fulfill God’s plan. While we may be called to a different task within the kingdom, our calling is no better or worse than someone else’s call.
Third, despite our different focus, we’re to be concern for the poor. That was a uniting task in the first century and should remain a uniting task for the church today.
So, what story do you have to tell and how does it show God’s activity in your life? Amen.
[1] William Zinsser, Writing About Your Life: A Journey into the Past (New York: Marlowe and Company, 2004), 22-23.
[2] These sermons were between April 24 and May 29. Here is the link to the first sermon: https://fromarockyhillside.com/2022/04/5673/ and here is the link to the last: https://fromarockyhillside.com/2022/05/5759/
I am trying to catch up on reading reviews. Below are four reviews that contain fiction, poetry, philosophy, and history. I will start with the lighter books and move on to the more heavy ones. There’s something here for everyone!
Aaron McAlexander, This Old Store
(Stonebridge Press, 2014), 95 pages including photos and maps.
There really is a place called Mayberry. It’s located along the Blue Ridge Parkway in Southwestern Virginia, twenty-some miles from Mt. Airy, NC. There was never much of a town here, just a few businesses and some farmers. Until the 1930s, there was a Post Office here. The store, where the Post Office resides, is still in business. The other reminder of the community that once existed is Mayberry Presbyterian Church. Aaron McAlexander, along with his late uncle, John Hassell Yeatts, have done their best to preserve the stories of this community. This is the fourth book I’ve read by McAlexander. It’s an easy read and a joy.
Throughout the countryside in these parts, there are lots of old boarded up stories. Many were two story stores, like Mayberry Trading Post. Most have been closed for decades. The Mayberry Store, which was built in 1892, remains open mainly because it is adjacent to the Blue Ridge Parkway. Today the store sells snacks, crafts, and souvenirs, along with jars of canned local treats from jams to chowchow.
This was once a community center. People picked up their mail in this old building, in addition to obtaining kerosene for their lanterns and later gasoline for their car or tractor. Hardware and tools along with that which they couldn’t produce themselves could be purchased at the store. The store would also trade for locally produced goods, from apples to chestnuts, which the storekeeper hauled to Mt. Airy or Stuart, Virginia to sell. While the storekeeper never sold alcoholic drinks, there would often be a bootlegger around who would have a bottle or two hidden nearby so those who wanted a nip could be satisfied. On slow days, checkers would be played.
Over the years, the store has changed hands many time (it’s been for sale for the last few years and from the scuttlebutt I recently heard, may be about ready to be sold again). McAlexander outlines these changes along with recalling stories from his mother and grandparents to his own stories of growing up in the area in the 1940s and 50s.
Narrated by David Aaron Baker, 14 hours, 47 minutes; (2012, audiobooks, 2013)
It has been a while since I read Doig. Almost a quarter century ago, when I was living in the Great Basin of the American West, I discovered Doig and read two of his memoirs: House in Sky: Landscapes of a Western Mind and Heart Earth. Living in an area where there were still sheepherders, Doig’s writings felt familiar. This is the first fiction I’ve read (actually listened to) by him and, God willing, it won’t be the last.
The book is told through the eyes of a child. This allows the author to lead us, in Rusty’s mind, down some wrong paths as a boy’s mind will often do. Is she my mother? What will happen if my father falls in love? You’ll have to read the book to learn the answers to those question and others that I ask.
The story begins in the early 1950s, when Rusty was six years old and being raised by an aunt with a couple of older boys in Arizona. He’s looking forward to school just so he can have time away from these taunting nephews. Then, like a good western, an outsider rides into town to save him. He is reunited with his father, Tom Harry, whom he had only seen occasionally. His father lives in Gros Ventre, Montana, where he runs the Medicine Lodge Saloon.
The novel then jumps ahead to the summer of 1960. Rusty is now twelve years old. This is a summer of discovery. Rusty meets Zoe, a new girl in town whose parents have purchased the Top Spot, the local diner. The two of them make quite a pair spying on everyone and trying out new characters as if they’re in theater. Throughout the summer, as everyone wonders if Kennedy will be the new President, there is a string of characters that make their way into town. One is Delano, an oral historian who wants to learn about the Fort Peck Dam project from Tom, who ran a bar there during the Great Depression. Delano is also interested in language patterns, which helps provide insight into the catchy phrases often thrown around by those visiting the bar. Also swinging into the Medicine Bar is Proxy, a former dancer in Fort Peck. In tow is her trouble daughter, Francine. Is Francine Rusty’s half-sister? Or his sister? Can Francine run one of the best-known saloons in Montana?
There is a lot packed into that summer of 1960, as Doig slowly fills in the details of Rusty’s inquisitive mind. Doig captures the western dialect, which helps create a delightful come-of-age story. He captures the life of the sheepherders along with working into the story a Class D League baseball team which he describes as being one step up from a picnic softball game. There is also some fishing. Doig captures the beauty of place as he describes Montana and the Medicine Bar.
Quote from their road trip from Arizona to Montana:
“My father always said, when stopping on a road trip in a place to pee, “nice joint you have here, even if it was as gloomy as a funeral parlor. I supposed I learned something of professional courtesy from these stops.”
###
Raymond Carver, All of Us: The Collected Poems
(1996, New York: Vintage Contemporaries, 2000), 386 pages including index, appendixes, plus Introduction and Editor’s Preface
I have only recently become acquainted with the writings of Raymond Carver who died at the age of 50 in 1988. He’s perhaps best known for his short stories, but I decided to sample a collection of his poetry. This collection was gathered and published after his death. While I was familiar with the poetry of Tess Gallagher before reading his volume, I did not know that she was Carver’s last wife. She provides both the Introduction to this work along with an extensive essay in the appendixes that served as an introduction to the last collection of Carver’s poetry.
The book begins with earlier poems which are often raw and sometimes vulgar. Some reflect the views of an alcoholic and of loss relationships. Other poems in this section come from the author’s travels, especially in Europe. Often, in these poems, he weaves in history with his own experiences. Other travels take him into the wilderness of the American West, and on fishing trips. One poem that stood out to me was “To My Daughter,” where he warns her that alcoholism runs in the family and warning her not to drink like she’d seen her parents do.
I found the poems in the last half of the book, written after he had quit drinking, to be more filled with wonder and gratitude. Here there are even more poems set around the Pacific Northwest. Fishing often comes up. Mixed into this section are many poems by Anton Chekhov. Sprinkled throughout the book are quotes and poems from other authors. Carver also brings other authors into his poetry such as Franz Kafka in “The Moon, The Train.” As the reader comes to the “first” end of the collection, the author knows he’s living on borrowed time. I had a sense of grace reading these poems.
But just because I reached the end of the collection didn’t mean I was out of poems to read, as the first appendix contained a group of “uncollected poems” from No Heroics, Please. His wife’s essay at the end is also worth reading as it sheds much light onto their life together and the last group of poems in this collection.
This is a large collection of poems. I spent a month and a half reading through them, often before bed, sometimes reading a poem several times. For those interested in poetry, this volume appears to me to be a “must read.” Yes, some of the poems especially in the first part of the book can be quite raw, but so is life for many people. As one continues to read, one will also find grace and hope and beauty.
###
Arthur Herman, The Cave and the Light: Plato Versus Artistole and the Struggle for the Soul of Western Civilization
(New York: Random House, 2014), 676 pages including notes, bibliography and index, or 25 hours and 26 minutes on Audible.
I started listening to this book on Audible but became so engrossed into Herman’s survey of Western thought that I ended up buying the book so I could go back and read and study sections of it. This is a massive undertaking. Herman begins by describing Raphael’s painting, “The School of Athens” which is in the Vatican. Over the next few hundred pages, he will expand upon the various philosophers in the painting. He’s concentrates primarily on Plato and Aristotle, who are depicted in two camps on the canvas. On Plato’s side is Socrates, Pythagoras, Speusippus, Zenocrates, Plotinus, Epicurus, the Arab scholar, Avernoes, and Heraclitus. In Aristotle’s camp are Eudemus, Theophrastus, Ptolemy, Euclid, and Stabo. From these two camps come a creative tension between the idealist Plato and the more practical Aristotle that has driven Western thought for the past 2500 years.
Herman takes the reader on a journey that begins in Greece and moves on to Alexander and across Europe. He discusses the influence of each of the philosophers on the Roman world, medieval Christianity, into the renaissance, reformation, enlightenments and on into the 19th and 20th Century. He discusses how these two schools of thought shaped not only philosophy and religion, but physical and biological science, government, and economics. I compare reading this book to retaking the year of Western Civilization required in college when I was a student in the late 1970s.
However, the book does not read like a textbook. Herman often draws on illustrations from art and for popular culture to make a point. And a few times, his writing seems to become “creative” as when he writes as to draw us back into a particular situation such as Michelangelo’s stroll to the Sistine Chapel to paint, a cart rumbling down a cobbled road to the guillotine during the French Revolution, or Alexander von Humboldt encounter with a jaguar in the South American jungles.
Herman’s thesis is that for a society to do well, it needs the creative tension that comes from Platonic idealism and Aristotelian materialism. When one side is over-emphasized, bad things happen. Plato leads to tyranny and Aristotle to stagnation. But when the two are in competition, society flourishes. While Herman could be critical of Hegel, there is a certain Hegelian logic in his thesis.
I really enjoyed this book even though at times I felt he had to stretch things to keep everything lined up between Plato and Aristotle. I wish he had spent more time with Scottish Common-sense philosophy and with the work of Edmund Burke, but when you are trying to pack 2500 years into one volume, you can’t have everything.
This is the second book I read by Arthur Herman. Several years ago, I read and enjoyed How the Scots Built the Modern World.
Jeff Garrison Bluemont and Mayberry Churches September 11, 2022 Luke 10:1-20
Sermon recorded at Mayberry on Friday, September 9, 2022
At the beginning of worship
Do you ever want to do something big for God?
You know, when we try to impress someone, we often try to do something that’s over the top. We buy our sweetheart the largest and best decorated heart filled with chocolate for Valentine’s Day. We buy gifts for our kids.
For some people, this idea of doing something big goes for God. After all, we’re called to love and glorify God and we, the church, are to be the “bride of Christ.”[1] But what if I tell you, that’s not the way God works?
Pleasing God
God doesn’t need us to do something big for him. God can do everything for himself. What pleases God isn’t the size of our effort, but our hearts. Do we love God? Do we trust God? Are we faithful?
You know, when you’re a kid, you do things for your parents that doesn’t really make their lives better. But they’re pleased with whatever craft item we create for Mother’s or Father’s Day. It’s like that with God. The size of our efforts isn’t what pleases God; it’s what’s in our hearts. Are we faithful to the calling of Jesus? Do we trust in God? These are the questions we need to ask ourselves.
Before the reading of scripture:
Last week we saw that Jesus expects humility and cooperation from his disciples. Today’s text will build on those concepts.
Remember, too, that for Luke, the disciples were more than just the 12. The 12 created kind of an intergroup. This week, we see that Jesus sends out a larger group of disciples for a chance to put into action their humility and cooperation. Jesus sends out this group to tell and show that the kingdom of God has come near.
70 or 72?
Most of our Bibles will tell us that Jesus sent out 70
disciples, two-by-two. But if you have any kind of study Bible, you’ll see there’s a footnote indicating some ancient texts says it was 72 disciples. While it really doesn’t make much difference, the discrepancy provides insight into its meaning.
70 probably points to us to the number of nations descended from Noah and listed in Genesis 10. In the Hebrew text, it’s 70 nations, but in the Greek Old Testament, translated a couple of centuries before Jesus, it was 72. The actual number isn’t that important. 70 or 72 just indicates a large number. And with this link to the list of nations, there may be a subtle hint of where Luke is going with his story. As we know, Luke continues with Acts which tells of the church moving out into the nations of the world.[2]
Today, I’m going to read this text from The Message translation. It’s a fresh way of hearing the gospel and you might compare it to the translation in your Bible or the one in the bulletin.
A few weeks ago, in my e-news, I mentioned the death of Fredrick Buechner, a Presbyterian minister and popular author. One of the early books I read by him on the Appalachian Trail was Treasure Hunt. This book is part of his fictional series about a character named Bebb. While I don’t remember a lot about the book, and I lost it before finishing it, I do remember Bebb’s desire to do something big for God. Longing and struggle fill his life. His struggles are often of his own making. Looking back with a tinge of disappointment, he wonders if the best work he did for God was when he was a student and sold Bible’s door-to-door.[3]
Does God want us to do something big?
While there is nobility in wanting to do something big for God, I suggest it puts too much focus on us and not enough on God. After all, what can we really do for God by ourselves? Our God, who can call on the stones to praise him, is self-sufficient.[4] God doesn’t need us to accomplish anything, instead God desires our hearts, our trust, and for us to do our part.
“The harvest is plentiful, and the laborers are few.” Jesus must have looked at my tomato garden, where I’m having a hard time getting them all canned and frozen for the winter. However, this saying implies that the job ahead requires a lot of people. It’s not up to just one or two disciples. The disciples are encouraged to humbly do their parts while praying for more laborers.
Subsistence spirituality
In a newsletter I read this week, the author tells of hearing Barbara Brown Taylor speak of subsistence spirituality.[5] I like that term. She links it to the idea of being lean enough to survive a trek in the metaphorical wildernesses in which we live. We are empty, but we survive on the goodness of others and the gracefulness of our Savior. And that’s what the 70 or so disciples are called to do in today’s story.
Comparison to Jesus sending out the 12
If you remember back about almost two months ago, when I began our exploration of Luke 9, we looked at Jesus sending out the twelve disciples.[6] Like this group, Jesus sent out his core group of disciples without much, for the purpose of building relationships. In Luke, when Jesus refers to disciples, he’s often talking about a lot more than the 12 that we often think of. Luke points out that there are many, including women, who are following Jesus around.[7] And now he’s putting them into action by sending them out, like he did the 12, to spread his message.
Expectations Jesus places on the disciples
Interesting, however, Jesus sends out this large group even more unprepared than he sent the 12. While the 12 were not to carry a purchase or staff or bag or bread, at least it appears they could wear shoes or sandals. But the 70 are sent out barefooted. They get to feel every rock along the road and must be extremely careful they do not step on a cactus. So, they are sent out without anything but the clothes on their backs and the blessings and instructions of our Savior.
Furthermore, they are to avoid conversations along the road. This sounds harsh, although maybe the pairs were allowed to talk to entertain themselves while on the highways. But why wouldn’t Jesus want them to share his message along the way? It appears, Jesus wants his message to be brought into homes, on a one-on-one encounter.[8]
Focus on in-home ministry
Jesus doesn’t send out his disciples to create large rallies, crusades, or revivals. Instead, the focus is on the individual and the family in the most intimate place for a 1st Century Jew, around their kitchen table. There, they are to accept the food that is placed before them. Again, bringing out this point, Luke may be foreshadowing the work of Jesus’ followers as they took the message out into a gentile world, which was far different than the kosher world of 1st Century Galilee.[9]
Handling rejection
Furthermore, when the evangelists are not welcomed, they are to leave. Yes, by shaking off their feet, they make a statement about the community in which they’ve visited, but they don’t leave without reminding the people that the kingdom of God has come near.
Curse upon the Galilean town
While those Jesus sent out were traveling, Luke shifts his focus to Jesus who prophecies against several towns in Galilee. This region, which he’ll soon leave for Jerusalem, plays a prominent role in his ministry. Bethsaida is home for three of the disciples: Peter, Andrew, and Philip. These cities are warned. Even though they have seen and heard from Jesus firsthand and have produced disciples, they have rejected Jesus’ message.
We know that not long after Jesus’ ascension, there was little church activity in Galilee. The early church began to focus on Jerusalem and later into Gentile lands. One of the interesting dynamics of the early history of the church is the shift from the agrarian Galilean hills to the urban centers of the world at that time.[10] The warning here can apply to us, too. If we have had a chance to witness Jesus’ grace and power and then deny him, judgment will be more severe than those who never heard of Jesus.
The result of the disciples’ missionary activity
We’re not given any details of individual encounters, of which they must have been many as there were 35 or so pairs of disciples spreading the message. Their accomplishments are great for Jesus recalls seeing Satan cast from the heavens. The returning disciples are joyous. Jesus then ends this section with a warning to those returning. They are not to rejoice in their newfound power from Jesus. Again, as we saw last week, Jesus is ready to nip pride in the bud. Instead of rejoicing over their accomplishments, they are to be content that they have a reservation in heaven.
Wars won by many small actions
Jesus’ witness of Satan’s fall comes, not after any big battle that the disciples won, but by a lot of small actions that together make a real difference for God’s kingdom. It’s like a war. Winning a big battle may not result in ultimate victory. Again, our role as followers of Jesus is to carry out these small actions—showing the world that God’s kingdom is near and that it makes a difference in our lives. Furthermore, we should show the world that we trust in God. The disciples went out with nothing, but because God was with them, they accomplished much.
Conclusion
Earlier, I used the term subsistence spirituality.” Such a spirituality is built on trust, on knowing that God is enough. The disciples experience this, going out barehanded to do the work of the Master. When it comes to building the kingdom, it’s not going to happen because we work hard. It’s going to happen because God works through us. So, keep following Jesus, and trust in God. Amen.
[2] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Luke (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2016), 302-305; I. Howard Marshall, New International Greek Testament Commentary: Commentary on Luke (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1978), 414-415; and Norval Geldenhuys, The International Commentary on the New Testament: The Gospel of Luke (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1984 reprint), 303-304.
[9] Ibid. Fred B. Craddock, Luke: Interpretation: A Biblical Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1990), 145.
[10] See James R. Edwards, From Christ to Christianity: How the Jesus Movement Became the Church in Less than a Century (Grand Rapids: Baker Academics, 2021)
In the winter of 1976, I was a freshman at University of North Carolina at Wilmington. One night, I attended the local Sierra Club meeting. The hot topic at the time was the protection of the New River, a river I’d paddled and felt I should become involved. I don’t remember much of the program, but I did meet Dave Benny that evening. Dave was close to twice my age, and an engineer at Dupont. He had recently purchased a Blue Hole canoe. Learning I also had a canoe (It was my first major purchase when I was sixteen), and had paddled several rivers in Southeast North Carolina, David picked my brain. Over the next six or seven years, until I left that part of the state, Dave or I would lead many of the canoe trips offered by the Wilmington chapter of the Sierra Club.
The Unique Blue Hole Canoe
Dave’s Blue Hole was a unique canoe. I don’t remember why he decided to purchase a boat built for white water to run in the black water rivers in the eastern half of the state. But I was impressed how well it handled in narrow winding streams where there were lots of logs just under the surface. Those unseen logs would often catch the keel of my Grumman canoe. The Blue Hole had a flat bottom which helped it float them. Its design also allowed the paddler to quickly turn and to move easily across a fast current, a benefit when paddling in a swampy area during high water where the water flow wants to pull your boat out of the channel and into the swamps.
A faded photo from the early 80s that I recently found. At Crusoe Island, Columbus County, NC, on a paddle down the Waccamaw River. I think Dave’s Blue Hole is the canoe to the right. The photo of me and the boats were either taken by Dave or another friend, Phil Morgan, who paddled with me one of the trips I made down the Waccamaw River.
However, when the river widens and the wind picked up, the flat bottom made the Blue Holes less desirable. One had to paddle harder to keep the boat tracking properly. Many of our trips would begin on smaller creeks and then end up on larger rivers, where Dave and whoever was paddling in his bow had to work harder than the rest of us.
The Blue Hole was made of a new substance called Rolex ABS. It was much stronger than fiberglass and a lot quieter than aluminum, like the Grummans. In my boat, any bump on a submerged log or a drop of a paddle or water bottle into the boat would be announced to everyone. Dave’s boat was much quieter.
Dave and the finer things in life
Dave and I didn’t paddle together much. We were generally in our own canoes, with each of us having another participant in our bow. But on occasion, the two of us would go out together to scout a new river or creek. Then, we’d often take Dave’s canoe. Dave seemed to have all the cool toys. As a middle-aged single man, he could afford such things. In addition to his canoe, he was the first person I knew with a Leica, a German camera known for its superior optics. He also purchased a Sea Gull 1.2 horsepower outboard motor. This British designed motor, I would later learn, was popular among sailors to power dinghies and rafts to and from a mooring.
Dave obtained the Sea Gull motor so we could take a canoe upstream to check out new streams. After motoring upstream, we’d paddle back down to our vehicle. One such stream was Colly Creek, which flows into the Black River. That little motor pushed us upstream easily. But there were lots of weeds in the stream, which kept tangling up the prop and causing the sheer pin to snap. Dave, however, came prepared. We became very proficient at replacing sheer pins that day and when we had no more pins, we were in sight of a bridge we could use to launch from. It was time to turn around. We paddled with the current to our waiting vehicle at a bridge just downstream of the confluence with the Black River. Colly Creek became a favorite paddling stream, and I must have run that creek a dozen times.
Leaving Eastern North Carolina and acquiring a Royalex Canoe
I left Eastern North Carolina early in 1984 and lost contact with Dave. In one of our last trips together, he had invited a woman along. I heard they later married. For a few years, I would occasionally hear about him from my brother who was also an engineer with Dupont, but in another factory. But then he retired and that was many years ago.
My Mad River at a campsite along the Missinaibi River, Northern Ontario, 1992
As for my old Grumman Canoe, it was stolen in 1985. I would replace it with a Mad River Explorer. Like the Blue Hole, it’s also an ABS Royalex boat. However, instead of a totally flat bottom like the Blue Hole, it has a rocker bottom which allows it to track better downstream and on lakes. I still have that boat. I have paddled it in rivers in nine states as well as northern Ontario where I paddled to the James Bay. I have replaced the wooden gunnels twice, and it’s still a good paddling canoe. I must continue caring for that boat for they no longer make ABS Royalex.
Paddling with Bill in one of his Blue Holes
Bill and me
Two weeks ago, when I was at Montreat, a Presbyterian Conference Center in Western North Carolina, I met up with another old friend. Bill and I had been a part of the team who ran the youth program at First Presbyterian Church in Hickory NC. We both paddled a lot, but only once made one trip together, that I recall, on the Henry River (where parts of the Hunger Games would be filmed decades later). Bill, who has lived in Asheville for over 30 years, suggested we paddle the Tuckaseegee River. Bill’s canoes have multiplied. He now owns a trailer full and they’re mostly Blue Holes. On this day, he brought along a tandem boat which we paddled together.
Meeting Bob Lantz
Bob Lantz on the deck of his cabin
We made our way down the river, through rapids named the 1st Hole, the 2nd Hole, the Slingshot. A short bit after running the Double Drop rapid, Bill suggested we drop in and see a friend of his. We found Bob Lantz at his cabin on the river and spent some time sitting out on his porch drinking a beer and talking. Bob was one of two designers for the Blue Hole canoe. After talking to him that day on the river, I decided that I needed to read his book. Doing so, I realized that Dave’s canoe would have been one of the earlier boats built by the company, only a few years after its founding.
Sadly, Bob no longer paddles. He’s had a couple of knee replacement surgeries and cannot kneel in a canoe. But he does get to enjoy being on a beautiful river and watching canoes, kayaks, and rafts float by.
Bill’s Blue Hole at the Take-out on the Tuckaseegee River
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Bob Lantz, Lean Downstream!! The Whole History from Beginning to End of the Blue Hole Canoe Company
(Bob Lantz, 1979), 231 pages with many photos and diagrams.
This book contains many moving parts. It’s part memoir but includes engineering and business details of canoe construction along with bits about how to paddle and work to save rivers in Tennessee. Combining these elements, the reader learns much about the growth of canoeing as a recreation activity in the 1970s and 1980s. The author appears upfront with his honesty, admitting when he made mistakes. And his mistakes include a superior attitude of how to paddle before being taught proper techniques as well as business and personnel blunders while running a company.
The book jump around a lot. However, the author warns the reader about this at the beginning. Lantz takes a thread and runs with it (such as the business of building canoes) then backtracks to fill in his personal details. He also tends to blatantly “foreshadow” what will happen in his writing by telling his readers he’ll get to it. However, the book is easily read. Lantz writes in a conversational style, not the technical style one expects from engineers. This less formal style seems to work well and serves the author’s purposes.
The author claims this is the “whole history” of the Blue Hole Company. However, I couldn’t help but assume some things are left out. But such is the nature of any writing as we can’t cover or report on everything. I would suggest the book is a history of the company through the eyes of one of its major players.
This book is also a history of the personal life of the author. I must admit, I felt sorry for him. Lantz was suddenly single and middle aged, sitting by his wood stove on winter nights in an old Tennessee farmhouse. When I visited his cabin on the Tuckasseegee, I admired his stove. He seemed appreciative and said it was his second Jotul wood stove. His first one eventually burned out the sidewalls trying to heat his house on the Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee. Reading the book, I realized the stove is a minor character in Lantz’s story.
That said, I was impressed with what Bob, a former aerospace engineer, and friends were able to do. They developed a company that radically changed the sport of white-water canoeing. From the idea to build canoes out of Royalex, to their design and develop of aluminum gunnels (purposely using low-tempered aluminum) and thwarts, Blue Hole was a pioneer in the canoe industry. The company lasted for fifteen years (1973-1988). Sadly, internal struggles seemed to sink the company. When friction between partners increased, the bank called the loan and the company liquidated.
I recommend this book to those interested in the development of canoeing in this country. Even if you don’t read it all, the book has great photos. As a warning, I doubt those uninterested in canoeing and rivers would find much enjoyment from the book. I am also grateful to the role the author and the company played in protecting several rivers in the Southeast.
Jeff Garrison Mayberry and Bluemont Churches September 4, 2022 Luke 9:46-50
Sermon recorded at Bluemont on Friday, September 2, 2022
At the beginning of worship:
Supposedly, the great 19th Century “Prince of Preachers, Charles Spurgeon, was met at the doors of London’s Metropolitan Tabernacle one Sunday by an older woman. Greeting the preacher, she bragged that she had been very careful all week and hadn’t sinned at all. Taking this in, Spurgeon responded, “Well Madam, that must make you very proud.” “Yes, it does,” she responded, not realizing she’d stepped into a trap.
Our salvation isn’t based upon what we do, but upon the mercy and grace of God as shown through Jesus Christ. While we are to avoid sin, our hope is not in avoiding it, but from trusting in God. When we think too highly about ourselves (or any groups to which we belong), we skate on thin ice. We risk becoming arrogant, and we trust ourselves instead of depending upon God’s grace.
Problems with pride
“Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall,” according to the book of Proverbs.[1] As followers of Jesus, we are called to be humble. Paul instructs the Corinthians, “if we boast, it should only be in the Lord.”[2]
Today, we’re going to consider two requirements of discipleship. Jesus expects us to be humble and willing to cooperate. These Christ-like values counter our pride, our yearning to be the best, and our willingness to exclude others.
Before reading the scripture passage:
This is my sixth sermon on the 9th Chapter of Luke’s gospel. This section of the gospel focuses on discipleship as we see the disciples taking over the hands-on work from Jesus. We’re learned that discipleship is about building relationships,trusting God to multiple our efforts, professing Jesus as the Messiah, listening to Jesus, and trusting that God knows best. Today, we’re going to see that discipleship also involves humility and cooperation. There is no place for pride and jealously. Next week, I’m skipping over the last section in Luke 9, which I preached onearlier in the year. Seven sermons on one chapter seems enough for one year! Then, next week, I will have one last sermon from the tenth chapter, before I move away from Luke’s gospel. When I return from vacation and study leave in mid-October, I plan to spend the period before Advent exploring Jesus’ prayer. But let’s now look at this last lesson to the disciples:
At the beginning of the 8th Grade, our church’s Jr. High Youth Group resumed meeting after taking the summer off. The first order of business was to elect officers. There were many of us in the 8th grade. We were ready to take over. One of classmates, Brian, wanted to be the president of the group. He’d talked about this to everyone in Sunday School. We all liked Brian and most of us assumed he’d make a good president.
But then, as we gathered that Sunday evening, something happened. Our leaders asked for a volunteer to pray. Normally, getting a volunteer among Jr. High students to pray was like finding a volunteer for a root canal. Generally, either a leader would end up praying, or they would twist one of our arms half off, until we volunteer. But not this evening. When they asked for a volunteer, Brian’s hand shot up. We bowed our heads in reverence.
In my 13 years, I’d never heard such blasphemy. Brian prayed for God to see to it that he was elected president. We must have all been offended. There are those prayers God doesn’t answer in the way we’d like, and this was one of them. As the ballots were collected, Brian failed to win.
Pride is dangerous
Pride is dangerous. Jesus wants to nip pride in the bud when it rears its ugly head amongst the disciples. He knows pride can create division. It divides people into a “us and them” mentality that runs counter to the gospel of our Lord.
Our text follows one of Jesus’ reminders that he was going to be betrayed. Think about that. Jesus just said he was going to endure a most humbling act—betrayal. But the disciples, as we saw two weeks ago, don’t understand. Jesus heads to the cross and the disciples’ debate who will be king of the hill.
Of course, this wasn’t done openly, in front of Jesus. Perhaps the disciples knew better than that. Jesus, however, Jesus understands what they’re thinking. Jesus also knows that such competition among the disciples will destroy the unity he desires to build amongst them.[3] Instead of coming right out and reprimanding them, he calls over a child.
Children in the ancient world
This is one of those passages that is easy to read our values into the text. We see children as precious, and they are. That’s why we dote on them and spoil them. But in more ancient societies, where infant and childhood death was frequently a reality and families were much larger, people didn’t spoil their kids. They didn’t have the time or resources to spoil them. Instead, a child was just another mouth to feed until they were old enough to help in the fields or in the family trade.
Ancient societies didn’t have the ability to be sentimental about children. Kids were seen, to use Jesus’ words, as one of the “least of these.”[4] Now, I’m not saying that parents didn’t love their kids back then, they did. But in a subsistent society, the child’s value grew once they could contribute to the family economy.[5]
Jesus doesn’t respond with words here. Instead, he teaches with an example.[6] By pulling a child over to him, Jesus enacts the truth. This child represents the type of people the disciples must embrace and bring into the fellowship. Jesus isn’t saying here that we must be like a child.[7] Instead, he wants the disciples to be like him and to welcome the child (and to welcome the child-like).[8]
The church is not to be a place just for able body individuals, those who can help further the kingdom. Instead, the true church opens to everyone and must show hospitality even to those shunned elsewhere.
Jesus: gentle and lowly in heart
In Matthew, Jesus says, “I am gentle and lowly in heart.”[9] Jesus, whom we learn in Philippians 2, left heaven, and humble himself to come to us.[10] He does so to make himself accessible to everyone.
We don’t (and can’t) do anything to make ourselves more open to Jesus other than opening our own hearts to him. We bring our burdens to Jesus; he invites us to do this in. Think of it this way. Our burdens qualify us to come to Jesus.[11] The verse in Matthew before the one I just quoted reads, “Come to me, all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens and I will give you rest.”[12]
The heart of Jesus
The heart of Jesus invites all to come to him. As a disciple of Jesus, we are also to be open and welcoming to everyone, including the “least of these.” Jesus displays humility through the practice of hospitality. Often, we are eager to show hospitality to those equal or even above us in status, but if we want to be Christ-like, we must be willing to show hospitality even to those, like a child in the ancient world, who have no status.[13]
Need for cooperation
Luke follows up Jesus’ teaching on humility with another story that illustrates the need for cooperation and not competition. John, who was a part of Jesus’ inner core, one of the three who witnessed the Transfiguration, tells his Master about how he and some of the other disciples helped protect Jesus’ reputation by rebuking someone who wasn’t a part of their team, but who cast out demons using Jesus’ name.
I’m sure John thought Jesus would praise him for his diligence. “Way to go, John. Keep up the good work.” But that’s not what happens. It appears John thinks his position as a disciple comes with entitlements and privileges. He’s still having dreams of greatness. John must have forgotten what Jesus has said about service.[14]
Conclusion
Jesus warns us against pride, exclusion, and competition. Instead, he wants us to be humble and to cooperate with others to help build a better society and to promote the kingdom, a kingdom in which all people are valued. Think about Jesus’ teaching here. What one thing can you do this week to humbly show God’s grace that would not bring attention to yourself, but to our Savior? It doesn’t have to be big. It just needs to be done privately, not for your glory but out of a desire to become more like Jesus. May we all have such a desire. Amen.
[3] Fred B. Craddock, Luke: Interpretation, a Bible-Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1990), 137.
[4] Jesus uses this term in the parable of the judgment of the nations. See Matthew 25:40.
[5] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Luke (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015), 290-291.
[6] Norval Geldenhuys, The Gospel of Luke (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 1983 reprint), 287.
[7] In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus does say that the disciples must become like a child, although Jesus encourages the disciples to welcome those like the child in both passages as well as in Mark’s gospel. See Matthew 18:1-5 and Mark 9:33-37.
I’ve been on vacation this past week, which is why I didn’t post a sermon on Sunday. Instead, I spent five days at Montreat, a Presbyterian conference and retreat center in the mountains of North Carolina. While there, I caught up with an old friend from the time when we both lived in Hickory, NC in the early/mid 1980s. I haven’t seen Bill since the late 80s. Back in the day, we did several backpacking trips together as well as some water skiing. Oddly, as we’re both big paddlers, I don’t remember but paddling together but once before, on the Henry River.
a delightful rapid on the Tuckaseegee
Bill now lives north of Asheville, and we sent the day paddling the Tuckaseegee River near Dillsboro, NC. It was a delightful river with numerous class 1 and 2 rapids. I haven’t paddled any white water in a canoe in probably 20 years. Most of my paddling lately hasn’t been white water, and is generally in a kayak. But it was fun to be in a tandem canoe. I also got to meet a friend of Bill’s who lives on the river, Bob Lantz, who was a co-inventor the Blue Hole canoe, a white-water boat that was popular back in the 70s and 80s. Bob has a cabin on the river and we enjoyed a beer while talking to him out on his porch.
from the Graybeard Trail
In addition to enjoying some down time and a few lectures and seminars, I hiked to Lookout Point and the Graybeard Trail (the latter seems rather personal). Getting a late start on the Graybeard Trail, I got back into Montreat after dark! But it was a good hike and while I didn’t see any rattlesnakes, two different groups on the trail told me of their encounters. As the sightings were at different places, they would have been different snakes, but none wanted to show their faces to me.
The Assembly Inn (where I stayed) from Lookout Mountain
Natural Tunnel State Park
Tracks through the Natural Tunnel
This weekend, after getting back from Montreat, we went over to Natural Tunnel State Park in the far western part of Virginia. This natural tunnel is over 800 feet long and since the late 1880s, has included railroad tracks. The track is now owned by Norfolk and Western. I was hoping to get a photo of a train coming through the tunnel, but there was only one that passed through while there, and I wasn’t anywhere near the tunnel. The area has some nice hiking, too.
I have a bunch of books to review on philosophy, poetry, history, and fiction… I’ll get to them in later posts. Here are two reviews. The second one perhaps prepared me for hiking the last leg of the Graybeard Trail in the dark. 🙂
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Peter Enns, The Sin of Certainty: Why God Desires Our Trust More than Our “Correct” Beliefs
(2016, HarpersCollins Paperback, 2017), 230 pages including notes and scripture references.
What does it mean to have faith? Peter Enns makes the case that our faith is grounded in trust in God. And this God is greater than we can imagine. However, too many people (and the author had been one of them) equates faith with correct thinking and right beliefs. We often are concerned with “getting the Bible right,” (it’s the Protestant DNA). We think when we fully understand the scriptures, we will find an answer to all our problems. Enns challenges such thinking.
In this book, Enns encourages the reader to explore the scriptures as he shows that faith and belief isn’t about correct thinking of God. It’s about trusting a God who draws us closer. After all, as he points out, believing in God is easy. Even demons believe. Our faith isn’t about what we know, it’s about who we know.
Enns draws continually on the Bible to make his point. While he uses the whole of scripture, he pays special attention to parts often overlooked such as the Psalms of Lament and the Ecclesiastes. We grow in our ability to trust God not when things go well, but when things go wrong. Quoting Samuel Rutherford, “grace grows best in winter.” (71)
While many Christians may disagree with parts of this book, Enns’s thesis need to be heard. For skeptics and for those who have struggled with holding a “correct belief” in God, his words offer hope and a new way to engage the God of scripture. This book is easy to read. I encourage others to check it out.
Quotes from The Sin of Certainty:
“A faith that promises to provide firm answers and relieve our doubt is a faith that will not hold up to the challenges and tragedies of life. Only deep trust can hold up.” (120)
“Wanting clarity is seeking some sort of control….” Darkness takes away control…”. “if anyone tells you Christianity is a crutch, you should take one of those crutches and beat him over the head with it (in Christian love, of course, making sure to tell them you will be praying for a quick recovery).” (170)
“When faith has no room for the benefit of doubt, then we are just left with religion, something that takes its place in our lives along with other things—like a job and a hobby…. Doubt is God’s way of helping us not go there, thought the road may be very hard and long.” (172)
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Tish Harrison Warren, Prayer in the Night: For Those Who Work or Watch or Weep
(Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2021), 199 pages including notes and study questions.
Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous; and all for your love’s sake. Amen. -“The Compline,” from the Book of Common Prayer
My review:
The Compline is a prayer that is offered as night falls. Darkness is a metaphor for evil. Bad things can happen at night. We don’t know what lurks in the shadows. Yet, according to Genesis, God also created darkness even though in Scripture, we’re promised that in the end, “night will be no more.”
Warren begins her book with a tale of tragedy, the night she experienced a miscarriage. During this troubling time, she found comfort in praying The Compline.
In this book, she carefully exegetes each line in the prayer. She draws from Scripture, especially the Psalms, as well as a host of other sources. She quotes theologians, authors, philosophers, even those who are critical of the faith. In addition to writing about trusting God, she also expounds upon various aspects of theology, from death to bodies, to work and our dependence on others as well as God.
I found this book a delight and recommend it to those who want to deepen their prayer life.
Quotes from Prayer in the Night:
“Faith, I’ve come to believe, is more craft than feeling. And prayer is our chief practice in the craft.” (8)
“Grace is the first and last word of the Christian life, and all of us are desperately in need of mercy and are deeply loved.” (8)
“Compline speaks to God in the dark. And that’s what I had to learn to do—to pray in the darkness of anxiety and vulnerability, in doubt and disillusionment. It was Compline that gave words to my anxiety and grief and allowed me to reencounter the doctrines of the church not as tidy little antidotes for pain, but as a light in darkness, as good news.” (19)
“Mysteriously, God does not take away our vulnerability. He enters into it.” (29)
“The Christian story proclaims that our ultimate hope doesn’t lie in our lifetime, in making life work for us on this side of the grave. We watch and wait for ‘the resurrection of the dead and the life to come.” (57)
“Just as our pupils dilate to let in more light, to see more than we first thought we could, prayer adjusts our eyes to see God in the darkness.” (61)
“God is not a masochist who delights in our pain or weakness, but a cultivator whose grace is found even in the burn unit… I can believe that God is good because God himself chose a way of suffering that none of us would have every choose—and he walked this way in a human body, as a creature of dust.” (99)
“To be a Christian is to sit, however uncomfortably, in mystery, in something we can never quite nail down or name.” (111)
“We weep because we can lament to one who cares about our sorrow. We watch because we believe that Love will not abandon us. We work because God is restoring the world in love. We can sleep because God governs the cosmos out of love. Every sickness can be transformed by love. When we’re weary, we are given rest because we are loved. Love meets us even in death, bearing blessing…” (165)
We don’t pray to convince God to see our needs. He asks us to pray, to tell him what we most long for, because he loves us deeply and devastatingly.” (166)
“In the end, darkness is not explained; it is defeated. Night is not justified or solved; it is endured until light overcomes it and it is no more.”
Additional Reading Suggestions:
Last Summer, I posted a review of two other books that deal with darkness. Barbara Brown Taylor’s Learning to Walk in the Dark, is another religious look at darkness. Chet Raymo’s The Soul of Night: An Astronomical Pilgrimage was one of the best books I read last year. While Raymo is writing more from a scientific point-of-view, his writings convey a sense of awe and mystery, which is where science and religion go together. Click here to read my reviews on these two books.
Jeff Garrison Bluemont and Mayberry Churches August 21, 2022 Luke 9:37-45
Sermon recorded at Mayberry Church on Friday, September 19, 2022. This Sunday is the “Kirkin’ o’ the Tartans” service at Mayberry which is why I’m wearing a kilt. Click here to learn more about a Kirkin’ service.
At the Beginning of Worship:
What is the most faithful way to pray? Do we tell God what we want and need? Or do we turn to God with open arms and allow God to do what is best?
I supposed most people tell God what they want or need. I’m guilty. But when you think about it, it’s a bit arrogant to think we know better than the almighty. I’ve used this quote attributed to C. S. Lewis many times. “We’ll spend the first half of eternity thanking God for prayers not answered.” God knows best. Perhaps our best prayers are those we turn ourselves over to God saying, “Thy will be done.”
Before reading the scripture:
Last week we looked at the Transfiguration in Luke’s gospel. Interestingly, Luke gives us more insight into the conversation between Jesus, Moses, and Elijah than the other gospels. But even here, we are provided only a glimpse of what was said. They talked about what was going to happen in Jerusalem. Afterwards, Jesus and the disciples come down the mountain and are immediately surrounded by crowds including a desperate father. Here, unlike Matthew and Mark, we’re given a brief account of the story. Having just witnessed Jesus’ glory, we now learn of the disciples’ limitations. But we also learn that despite their inability to help this man, Jesus still comes through.
In preparation for hearing the scriptures, I will pray a prayer the great Scottish Reformer, John Knox, used before worship:
O God of all power, Who hast called from death the great Pastor of the sheep, our Lord Jesus, comfort and defend the flock which He hath redeemed by the blood of the eternal testament; increase the number of true preachers; mitigate and lighten the hearts of the lost; relieve the pains of the afflicted, especially those that suffer for the testimony of the Truth, by the power of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.[1]
Raphael, “Transfiguration” 1516-1520, The Vatican, image in public domain
The last artwork by the great renaissance painter, Raphael, was of the Transfiguration. We explored that story last week. But the artist includes in his depiction not only the wonderous and glorious events on the mountain, but also the inability of the nine disciples left behind to help the man whose boy was demonically possessed. The contrast with the glory above and the struggle and defeat below are striking. Jesus dazzles in the center of the canvas, while all is dark and foreboding below.[2] On our own, our abilities are limited, something Raphael captures on canvas.
Similarity to the Gerasene Demonic story
Our story today has some resemblance to the story we examined a month of so ago, just after Jesus calmed the storm on the lake. If you remember, a demonic man met Jesus on the other side.[3]The man was a terror to everyone. Filled with demons, they tried to kill him. Jesus casts the demons out of the man and into a herd of pigs who ran off a cliff into the water and drown. Evil does that. Destruction is its goal. But once the man was freed from the demons, he became a disciple. He went on to tell everyone what Jesus did for him.
Setting for Today’s Story
In today’s story, Jesus has just come down from the mountain. He’s met by a crowd, including a man who only one child, a boy, who had issues. Luke appears to have a special heart for parents with only one child, as this is the third such encounter in his gospel.[4]
It sounds like this boy may have some form epilepsy. I don’t know if you’ve ever been around someone with such seizures. They lose control.
Ken, a friend from Japan who was in my seminary class, had epilepsy. He once had a seizure in chapel. Thankfully, several of us knew what was happening. There was not much to do but try to keep him safe and to put a wallet in his mouth to keep him from biting himself or swallowing his tongue as we waited for paramedics.
But back in the first century, epilepsy was blamed on demonic possession.[5] So, instead of making speculations or a medical guess as to the boy’s problems, we’ll stick to how the story is told. The boy goes off into fits. His father can’t control him. You can imagine the chaos in their home. As it is with evil, whenever it takes over this boy, it tries to harm him. The disciples, whom Jesus had given power to heal,[6] can’t help the boy.
When Jesus hears the boy hasn’t been helped, he goes off on a triad about this perverse generation. He sounds like an Old Testament prophet. However, in Luke, Jesus doesn’t blame the disciples for their inability to help.[7] “Human doubts and disbelief are not the last word,” one commentator writes. “Nor do they determine Jesus’ willingness or ability to act.”[8]
Jesus takes pity on the boy and his father. He calls for the boy to be brought to him. Just as the man by the lake went berserk upon seeing Jesus, the boy immediately goes into convulsions.
The demon’s reaction to Jesus (and the good)
Imagine my dog going to the veterinarian. It’s for her good, but she’ll throw a fit before I can drag her out of the car. I suppose I’m like that with dentists. It may be for my own good, but that doesn’t mean I like it (although I don’t generally throw a fit). In a similar way, the demon fears encountering good and tries to harm the boy one last time. So, the boy convulsions before Jesus.
But Jesus’ power is greater. He heals the boy, and then hands the boy back to his father. This amazes the crowds. They praise God’s greatness and what Jesus has been doing.
Jesus’ changes subjects
Then Jesus changes subject. Luke tells us that Jesus prepared his remarks by telling people to “let these words sink in.” Their excitement over his healing the boy focuses their attention on Jesus’ acts and not his words.
Luke gives us three possible reasons for this. They don’t comprehend what Jesus means when he speaks of being betrayed. Or, as the next verse implies, the meaning was concealed from them (kind of like pharaoh’s heart being hardened[9]). Or they didn’t want to hear such negative news at such a joyous time, so no one asked any questions.[10] In other words, why ruin a good party with bad news. Why rain on a parade.
Today’s truths:
What does our text say to us today? There are at least two truths we should understand. First, we should trust God to do what is right. The boy’s father didn’t tell Jesus to cast out the demon. He just begged for Jesus to look at his son. The man trusted Jesus’ goodness. He knew Jesus would see the boy needed help and so respond.
When we are sick, do we go to the hospital and then direct the physicians on how to treat us? In most cases, that’s not a good idea. Instead, we trust they have our best interest in heart. In addition, we trust their knowledge. Likewise, we trust God wants what is best for us. It’s like the father character played by Robert Young in the 1950s classic sitcom, “Father Knows Best.” We trust God the Father. Faith is having trust!
Second, which builds on the first, we are reminded that we can’t see or understand everything. We’re not God. Sometimes we get so caught up in the excitement that we are unable to see what’s around the corner. Or we don’t want to see, especially when we know its bad. Again, it comes down to trust in God.
Conclusion
Jesus knew his mission. As we saw last week with the story of the Transfiguration, Jesus talks about his Jerusalem mission with Elijah and Moses. Jesus was preparing himself for what’s ahead. And it was going to be hard to accept and understand, but in the long run, what Jesus did was for us. And because of his atoning death, our future is much brighter. We are loved. We can find forgiveness and be adopted into God’s family. And that’s good news!
Don’t make demands upon God in your prayers. Instead, trust God, know that you are loved, and have faith. Amen.
ã2022
[1] Howard L. Rice & Lamar Williamson, Jr., A Book of Reformed Prayers (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1998), 21.
[7] In the other gospel accounts, the disciples ask Jesus why they failed, and he uses it as a lesson for faith and prayer. See Matthew 17:14-21 and Mark 9:14-29.
[10] Fred B. Craddock, Luke: Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1990), 136. Craddock suggests that the voices of praise of the crowd over Jesus’ power makes it hard for the disciples to see Jesus both in power and, in Jerusalem, in powerlessness.
I took the school year 1988-89 off in order to be a student pastor at First Presbyterian Church of Virginia City, Nevada. Over the years since, I devoted much time researching and writing the history of that congregation on the Comstock Lode. This is a short memoir piece of my time there.
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“Matt, why do you want to join this church?” I asked as I slipped tea.
We had just finished eating and were sitting on the floor on mats, like Jesus and the disciples at the last supper. A low table stood between us. On it was a Chinese hot pot, a ceramic teapot, a bowl of rice, plates, cups, and chop sticks. It had been an interesting meal. Matt told me he once had a Chinese girlfriend who taught him how to cook. I wondered if she used frozen vegetables. There was no crunch to the vegetables in the stir fry. The dish was soggy. It wasn’t terrible, just not very appealing. I kept my thoughts to myself. I was curious as to his interest in joining a church that was a 30 minute drive away.
Matt had been waiting for the question. He pulled a Bible off a bookcase behind him. I took the Bible to be a good sign. Then he opened it and read a passage from 24th Chapter of Matthew’s gospel, about stars falling from the sky. Now I wasn’t so sure the Bible was a good sign. I had no idea where this was going. Setting the Good Book down on the table, Matt began telling me how the earth was going to soon shift on its axis. This would make it appear as if the stars are falling from the heavens.
My mind was spinning. This was not anything I had been taught in seminary. When he paused to catch his breath, I asked, “What does this have to do with you joining our church?”
“I’ll get there,” he assured me.
I poured myself another cup of tea as Matt continued his discourse.
Taylor St., looking down toward C St
“You know, the Carson Valley used to be under the ocean. There are places you can find shells embedded in rock.” He pulled a fossilized rock from his bookcase to show me.
“Yeah, it may have once been under the sea,” I quipped, “but that was a few years before our time.”
“It’s going to happen again,” he said.
“What’s going to happen?”
“This is going to be the ocean again.”
Matt went on explain how, when the earth shifts 15 degrees on its axis, the sea would rise. The coastlines would be wiped out with tsunamis. The valley would fill with water.
As he continued on with his monologue, I looked out the window. The Sierras were silhouetted by the setting sun. Looking at those magnificent mountains while listening to Matt ramble on, I visualized what he was saying. It could have been a scene from a bad horror movie. A large tidal wave, at least nine thousand feet high, breaking over the top of those peaks. The thought of it was ludicrous. I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing. But then, I understood.
“I get it! You’re telling me that you want to join our church because Virginia City is soon going to be an island amidst a vast inland sea.”
“Yes,” he said, smiling as if he had finally broken through. “Carson City will be under a thousand feet of water.” He started giving me the layout of areas of the country that would be above water or below it. It didn’t seem to make sense that places like Carson City, at an elevation of 4000 feet would be below water and other places a lot lower would remain dry, but none of this made sense.
Yet, in a smug way, I was glad to know I’d be safe in Virginia City. Come summer, I could sun myself out by the mine tailings, as waves lapped at my feet. There might be still a few nice days this fall. Would I have time to pick up some sunscreen on my way home, I thought to myself, in case I don’t make it back to Carson City before the flood. I began to make a mental list of things I’d need: a lounge chair, beer, flip-flops, some more beer…
I had to force myself to focus back on what Matt was telling me.
“Where did you get all these ideas?” I asked.
“The Bible.”
“Really?”
“Mostly, but also Nostradamus and from talking to a friend.”
I didn’t want to meet this friend.
Next, he pulled a book of Nostradamus from the shelf behind him, turned to a marked page and handed it to me to read. Whoever thought Revelation was hard to understand had obviously not read Nostradamus.
Unable to make any sense out of what Matt was saying, my mind began to drift into survival mood. I needed a strategy to escape from this apartment. I wanted to be back in the real world. Into what time warp had I moved? I’ve yet to been in Nevada a month and discovered it to be a state where people think it’s a good idea to put rabid bat in a pitcher of beer and then drink it. And there was the woman at K-Mart who believes Ronald Reagan is the Antichrist. According to the news, the bubonic plague is making a comeback. And now there are those (or at least two of them), who think the earth is going to tilt in a new direction.
Matt had first worshipped with us the previous Sunday. He came into church a little late. My first impression was that he’s middle-aged, a little overweigh, a little disheveled, but a nice guy. After worship, when all were enjoying coffee and catching up with one another, Matt stayed back from the crowd. I went over to introduce myself. He told me his name and said he wanted to join the church. It seemed a little strange, this being a small church, to learn he wanted to join the fellowship in the same breath that I learned his name.
“Great,” I said, “let’s get some coffee and meet some people.” I introduced him to several members. He was polite, but standoffish and appeared uncomfortable. It was when I suggested we get together and talk about the church membership that he invited me to dinner
Matt was a special case. But then, Virginia City had plenty of special cases. He did join the church, although he never moved to town. Nor did the impending flood occur. Everyone in the congregation thought his ideas were a little weird, but welcomed him. For the rest of my time on the Comstock, Matt taught me an important lesson: “there are those who need the church more than the church needs them.”
Combination Mine Shaft overlooking Virginia City, Summer 2008
