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Listen to Jesus

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont & Mayberry Churches
August 14, 2022
Luke 9:28-36

Sermon recorded under the picnic shelter at Bluemont Church on Friday, August 12, 2022

At the beginning of worship:

What do you think of doubt? Do you think of it as the opposite of faith? Can doubt be a means God uses to draw us closer and help us trust more? 

I recently read a book based on the later position. I’ve shared several quotes from the book, The Sin of Certainty by Peter Enns. Here’s another:

“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, though the road may be very hard and long.”[1]

If everything is certain there would be no need for faith. God wants us, first foremost, to trust in God’s Son and our Lord, Jesus Christ. We’ll talk about this today.

Before reading the scriptures:

Last week, we looked at Peter’s Confession followed by Jesus teaching his followers some hard truths about discipleship. A couple of things I hope you got out of the sermon. Discipleship must be grounded in prayer, and we must trust Jesus and be willing to give up everything for him. 

Today, in our text, we see it’s about eight days after that encountered between Jesus and the disciples. Again, Jesus goes up on the mountain to pray. This time, he only takes his core leadership team: Peter, James, and John. And what happens up on that mountain is so bizarre the three disciples don’t tell anyone until later, after an even greater miracle, the resurrection.  

Read Luke 9:28-36 in the Message translation

Was the Transfiguration for the disciples?

For whom was the Transfiguration, as this story is known, to benefit?[2] Was this event for the disciples? If so, why were nine missing? And besides, the three on the mountain missed most of it as they napped. This was like how they missed out on Jesus’ prayer in the garden just before his arrest.[3] Jesus wants them nearby, awake and praying, and they snore. 

Our story begins with Jesus taking a few of the disciples up on the mountain to prayer. A wonderous thing happens. But the disciples can’t keep their eyes open. And when they fully wake, Peter makes a fool of himself. Poor Peter, he feels he must say something when there is nothing to be said. Instead, he should have looked on with awe and been pleased for the opportunity to witness such an event. We should learn from Peter’s bumbling that when we experience something wonderful, awe is an appropriate response. We don’t need to try to add to the experience.

Was the Transfiguration for Jesus?

Perhaps the Transfiguration was meant for Jesus. He’s heading down that long road toward Jerusalem. What’s going to happen weighs heavy on him. This event strengthens him, just as the angels ministered to Jesus in his prayer in the garden before his betrayal.[4]

But even if Jesus was the primary recipient of the benefits, it doesn’t mean this event was unimportant for the disciples. After all, we find the story in three of the four gospels.[5]  

Perhaps this story should also remind us that even experiencing supernatural events does not guarantee one’s continually faithfulness. We know that Peter will go on to deny Jesus.[6]Again, as this passage shows us in the end, we ground our faith in Jesus Christ, not in what we do.  

Keeping quiet about the event

We’re told the three disciples kept quiet about the event after it happened. In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus tells them not to say anything about it until after he’s been raised from the dead, but there it appears the disciples at the time didn’t understand Jesus. Instead, they go off on a tangent about Elijah.[7] In Luke’s gospel, we’re given no reason for the disciples to keep silent. 

We could assume some things are best left unsaid. After all, the rest of the disciples would have no context to understand what happened up on the mountain. Discussing it might open the three to ridicule. So only much later, after the experience of the marvelous resurrection, do they share what had happened. 

We have only the bare details

The text only provides us with bare details. Jesus becomes dazzling white and has a conversation with Elijah and Moses. Maybe the three disciples, seeing this, thought they were already having a dream as they nod off instead of listening in on the conversation. I know with me, sometimes when I am in the in-between state between being awake and asleep, I can dream and then wake up startled, unsure what’s real and what’s a dream. 

Maybe they thought this was a dream, and it’s only when they are fully awake do they become aware of what’s happening. But before we go there, let’s consider the presence of Moses and Elijah. 

Moses and Elijah

It is often assumed that Moses represents the law (even though Moses is also known as a prophet) and Elijah represents the prophets. Since we are not privy as to what was said between them and Jesus, this is only speculation. But it may be right. We’re only told the conversation had something to do with Jesus’ work in Jerusalem. Back in verse 21, Jesus revealed to the disciples his upcoming rejection by the elders and chief priests and scribes. The priests imply the rejection will take place in Jerusalem, for they worked at the temple there. 

Did Moses and Elijah encourage Jesus as he made his final trek to Jerusalem? Maybe, it seems logical, but we cannot be certain. 

Peter’s half-baked ideas

As the two men take their leave, Peter must have realized that this wasn’t a dream after all, He’s amazed, although we don’t know how he knew it was Moses and Elijah. Peter quickly jumps up and begins running his mouth. “It’s great for us all to be here,” he said. He offers to make three dwellings, so they can all sit around and enjoy this experience.


The word translated as memorials in the Message translation, or dwellings or booths in other translations, is the same as the word translated as “tabernacle.”[8] The tabernacle was a tent that served as a portable temple for the “holy of holies” during the Exodus. Does Peter see these three as divine? Probably not, but because of their presence, he knows the Almighty has something to do with their presence. 

Luke makes sure his readers understand Peter’s suggestions were not thought out well. “He blurted it out without thinking,… while babbling on like this…” we read. Sometimes we just need to be content and stand in awe. 

While Peter talks, God acts. Sending a cloud over the mountain, the mist envelopes everyone there.[9] God provides a heavenly tabernacle and suddenly they are all aware of God’s presence. Then, they hear a voice, the voice of God, speaking out of the cloud. “This is my Son, the Chosen! Listen to him.” 

That voice must have rolled like thunder and lingered for a while. And when the voice was no longer heard, the three disciples find themselves in the presence of just Jesus. Everything is back to normal.

Focus on Jesus

While this experience may have been primarily for the human Jesus, to prepare him for Jerusalem, there is also a message for the disciples who were present (and for us). They and we are to listen to Jesus. Don’t be just holding on to the past, to the law and to the words of the prophets. Pay attention to Jesus, listen to him, learn from him. God works through Jesus to show us the way forward.


This event illustrations us what John’s gospel teaches.  Jesus is God’s word.[10]  Because of this, we are to trust and obey, follow and abide by him. 

Our desire for certainty and control

I expect if we were present with Peter, James, and John, we wouldn’t have acted much different. Peter’s suggestion of erecting memorials was an attempt to hold on things. We like certainty and in that moment on the mountain, Peter had it. 

There was Jesus and the two greatest Hebrew leaders in all their glory. Peter wants to enjoy their presence. He’s like Mary Magdalene after Jesus’ resurrection, grabbing on to Jesus. But Jesus told her not to hold on to him.[11]

We can’t control God

We can’t contain or control God. If we could, whatever it is that we are containing or controlling would not be divine. Instead, we trust, follow, listen and learn. That’s our calling as disciples. Amen. 

[1] Peter Enns, The Sin of Certainty: Why God Desires Our Trust More Than Our ‘Correct’ Beliefs (New York: HarperOne, 2015), 172. 

[2] The idea of the differences of the experiences between the Jesus and disciples comes from reading Chelsey Harmon’s commentary on the text: https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2022-02-21/luke-928-36-3/

[3] Luke 22:39-46. 

[4] Luke 22:43-44. These verses do not appear in all ancient text, but they show an anguished Jesus as he faces what’s ahead. 

[5] See Matthew 17:1-9 and Mark 9:2-8. Peter refers to the experience in 2 Peter 1:16-18. 

[6] Luke 22:54-62. This story is told in all four of the gospels. See Matthew 25:69-75, Mark 14:66-72, and John 18:15-18, 25-27. 

[7] Matthew 17:9-13

[8] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Luke (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015), 283-284.

[9] Edwards, 284-285

[10] John 1:1-5. 

[11] John 20:17. 

Keeping focused! A photo from several years ago: Sailing in Wassaw Sound
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The Great Seminary Hoax of 1986

Two weeks ago, in a sermon, I told about the “duck parties” held at seminary. Today, I am posting a story about some nonsense that occurred during my first term at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary. Other recent posts include memories of Professor von Waldow and Dean Mauser and his secretary. Good memories.

Ken

My only experience in dorm-living was my first year in seminary. I boarded on the third floor of Fisher Hall. I stayed in the dorm to save expenses as I still had a house and mortgage payments when I left for seminary (I sold the house soon afterwards).

Across from my room was Ken, a student from Japan. A language whiz, Ken spoke several Slavic languages but needed work on his English. We did our best to help, but who among us will forget the day he asked a visiting professor from Prague a question. Unable to get his question across in English, he switched to Russia or Czech or something strange and the professor answered him in an equally strange tongue. The rest of us sat around witnessing a firsthand example of glossolalia. 

The view behind the seminary from 3rd Floor Fisher, January 1987
Keith

Down the hall, to the north, was Keith. A United Methodist student, Keith also managed the school’s hockey rink. When not in use, the hockey rink served as the hallway for third floor Fisher.  Being from the South, hockey was something new to me and I did my best to avoid the games.

Jim

In the room next to mine, to the south, was Jim. Unfortunately, he dropped out before the two of us could finish what would have been a best seller: “A Theological Drinking Guide to Pittsburgh.” Having been used to living in a house, and with nightly hockey matches going on outside my door, getting out to the local bars around Pittsburgh (many within walking distance) was an escape and a way to maintain sanity.

There were many others on the floor, but the four of us played a prominent role in the “perfect storm” that just about got me booted back to the piney woods of North Carolina. 

The room to my north, between mine and Keith’s, was empty. Keith read an article on Christian sexuality written by Rodney Clapp. Being a careful reader, what caught Keith’s attention was the author’s name. It seemed fitting a man whose last name was slang for a venereal disease would write on sexuality. Keith decided Clapp needed to be a classmate. He made up a nameplate for the empty room. “That’s Clapp’s room,” we’d tell people, he’s an esteemed alumnus from Pittsburgh and maintains a room here. A week or so later, Clapp’s pretend presence on campus took a strange twist. 

Ken, who’d just arrived in American, became fascinated with a certain group of American newspapers generally found in the check-out lines at the supermarket. He read these papers religiously, trying to improve his English and learn about this strange country in which he was living. One day, at the local Giant Eagle Supermarket, he picked up a copy of the National Enquirer, or maybe one of the other tabloids. The lead article featured the story of an unnamed hell-fire preacher who spontaneously combusted in the pulpit. After his particularly fiery sermon, all that was left was ashes. It must be true. It was in print. Such an event should have certainly been studied in homiletics, but I don’t recall it being mentioned.

As no one had seen Clapp recently, it was logically assumed he was the unnamed preacher. Ken posted the article on Clapp’s door. Over the next week, letters from all around the world started appearing, in different languages, offering condolences to Rodney’s family and friends. Clapp’s deeds and misdeeds were recalled. 

Around this time, for reasons I still don’t understand, had chapel duty. Normally first-year students were exempt, but for some reason I said I’d do it. I thought daily chapel would be the perfect setting for a “Rodney Clapp Memorial Service.” Somehow, word got out to the powers-that-be what was being planning. Dr. Oman, the homiletics professor, called me into his office and informed me there would be no faux funeral in chapel.

Disappointed at being unable to involve the entire community, we planned our own funeral. Although not a Protestant tradition, we included a wake. We could be ecumenical if it meant a good party. On December 2, 1986, after an evening of basketball (after all, we did have our priorities), a crowd of us gathered in the Fisher lounge for Clapp’s wake and funeral. In the center of the room, laid out like a casket, was the door from Clapp’s room. It was covered with letters of condolences and tokens of our love and adoration for him. Sitting on the top of the door was a plastic container holding some ashes someone obtained.

We gathered around Clapp’s remains and said our goodbyes. We read scripture. Chosen passages alluded to fire. Nonsensical tales about our experiences with Clapp were shared. Taking great liberty with the funeral liturgy, we replaced hymns with more appropriate music such as the Doors’ “Light My Fire” and Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water.” Afterwards, as Clapp’s ashes floated out the window and across the lawn, we had a final toast. 

Mourners paying respect at Clapp’s Memorial Service, Dec. 2, 1986


With the funeral out of my way, I still had to do my duty in chapel. A day or two later I stood before the crowd of students and professors and delivered one of those boring first year seminary student sermons. The best part of it were a few lines of poetry I quoted from John Beecher, whom I felt deserved an introduction.  

The service was dreadfully serious until I was about halfway through my message. Before the service, Jim came into the chapel and took two fire extinguishers off the walls by the doors. Unbeknownst to everyone, he placed the extinguishers on the chancel, one on each side of the pulpit. As I was trying to make a serious point which I’m sure expressed some eternal consequence, someone in the row of students from Fisher Hall noticed the fire extinguishers. He began to laugh while pointing it out to the person next to him. Slowly, like a wave moving across the chapel, each student poked the guy next to him and pointed to the fire extinguishers. The laughter spread. Soon, among a crowd of somber Presbyterians, one pew laughed hysterically. I smirked, bit my tongue, and looked down at my notes. I knew if I looked out upon the gathered congregation, all would be lost. 

I’m sure most of those in chapel that day, unaware of the joke that had been building for a month, felt those of us from Fisher Hall were downright rude. And they were right. 

I’m not sure who I was trying to impress in a suit. I’m on the left with three classmates (Roger, Vivian, and Doug) as we prepared to head back to Pittsburgh from the 1988 General Assembly in St. Louis. The rest were dressed causal for the trip. This may be the last photo of me without a beard. I grew one in the summer of 1987, but shaved it off early in the fall. After this meeting, I headed West for an intern year and grew my beard back. I haven’t been clean shaven since. As for my hair, well, I’m not sure what happen.
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Professing Jesus as the Messiah

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
August 7, 2022
Luke 9:18-28

Sermon recorded at Mayberry Church on Friday, August 5, 2022

At the beginning of worship

What are the two natures of Christ? 

From the early church, the belief has been held that Jesus Christ is one person with two natures: Divine and Human. Or God and Man. It’s a mystery how they go together, but it explains a lot of what we’ve seen over the past couple months as we worked through the middle section of Luke’s gospel as Jesus, a man, does God-like things.  

What the Confessions tell us

Jesus’ dual nature is professed in the Apostles’ and Nicene Creed. Both speak of Christ, who is one with the Father, becoming human through the incarnation by the work of the Holy Spirit in the life of Mary. For a more technical definition, The Westminster Larger Catechism explains it this way:

“It was requisite that the Mediator should be God that he might sustain and keep the human nature from sinking under the infinite wrath of God, and the power of death….” And then in the next paragraph: “It was requisite that the Mediator should be man; that he might advance our nature, perform obedience to the law, suffer and make intercession for us from our nature, have a fellow feeling of our infirmities; that we might receive the adoption of sons, and have comfort and access with the boldness unto the throne of grace.” Going on, the Confession says: “It was requisite that the Mediator who was both God and man, and this in one person; that the proper works for each nature might be accepted of God for us, and relied on us, as the works of the whole person.”[1]

-Westminster Confession of Faith

Today, I’ll talk some about the dual nature of Christ. As God, Christ gives us access to the divine. As a human being, he can identify with our struggles. We need both and together, it’s good news. 

Before reading the Scriptures:

Two weeks ago, we ended our scripture reading with Herod essentially asking, “Just who is this guy doing the healing and teaching out in the villages?” As I pointed out last week, Luke often let’s such questions linger a while. Instead of giving an immediate answer, he gave another example of Jesus’ power with the feeding of the 5,000. Today, we’ll see that Jesus and the disciples have finally escaped the crowds, which allows Jesus to ask the disciples about who the crowds understand him to be.

Good leadership

A good leader wants to know what others think and understand. Sometimes they may not like what they hear. Knowing what others think, may or may not change what a leader does. But if the leader doesn’t know how others understand their message, they could be moving into a minefield. So today, Jesus asks the disciples what people say about him. And he receives essentially the same answer Herod received. But Jesus pushes deeper, which leads to Peter’s confession and a chance for Jesus to begin some in depth teaching with the disciples. 

This story in Matthew in Mark

This story also appears in Matthew and Mark, where we’re given more details. Unlike Luke, in those accounts, we’re told it was in Caesarea Philippi,[2] which would be an area away from Galilee. Luke, instead of telling us where this occurs, just says it was in private, after prayer. All three gospels may be correct, but Luke’s holds out special significance. Jesus first prays!  We can learn from this. 

Read Luke 9:18-28

Quick summary of text

We learn a lot from this passage about prayer, the nature of Jesus, the need for trust, and living in God’s kingdom. Let’s look at what this text teaches.

Role of prayer in Jesus’ life

Luke has already shown us the importance of prayer in Jesus’ life. Jesus has been known to slip away in private to pray.[3] He heads up on the mountain to pray before naming the 12.[4] Luke later tells us about Jesus’ harsh criticism about prayer done for public display and admiration. Jesus condemns the Pharisee who makes a show of his prayer in the temple but elevates the tax collecting sinner who humbly begs for forgiveness.[5] Jesus isn’t against public prayer. He defends the temple as a house of prayer while condemning the impropriate use of the space.[6]

Importance of prayer

Luke shows the importance of humble, private, and sincere prayer. Prayer is not to be an occasion to grandstand. We can only image what Jesus would say about praying on the 50th yard line after a high school football game. Prayer is personal, as Jesus shows by slipping off into the hills. It is between us and God. As Jesus shows in the Lord’s Prayer, prayer focuses on God’s will, not our desires.[7]

Some see prayer as the answer to problems. When we can do nothing, we say, “I’ll pray for you.” Sometimes that sounds insincere. Certainly, if we can do something to change or help, we should. 

Others have blamed the failure of our schools on the lack of prayer. But the lack of prayer is not the problem. There has always been prayer in school. It’s mostly private prayer when students (and I was one) pray for a test for which we hadn’t prepared. Such prayers weren’t often answered, or at least not in the way I’d hoped. 

The problem arises when we think of prayer as providing God a shopping list of things to correct without working with God to make things better. 

Prayer as an intimate conversation with God

Prayer, as we see here, is intimate conversation with God. While there is a place for public prayer, most prayer needs to be done alone. It’s especially important for us to pray privately. This fall, I plan a six-sermon series on prayer, but before then think about your prayers in the light of how Jesus prayed. Do you get away to talk to God privately? It’s an important part of our discipleship. 

Jesus’ question

We don’t know what caused Jesus to ask the question to the disciples, only that it came out of prayer. When finished praying, Jesus went to the disciples and asked, “Who do the crowds say that I am?” Their answer parallel’s the answer given to Herod as to who it was out in the countryside doing this work: a resurrected John the Baptist, Elijah, or one of the prophets.[8] This answer shows that Jesus’ message is getting traction and that people are taking him seriously. Except for John the Baptist, whose death at the hands of Herod was only recent, the others have been gone for centuries. 

Jesus then turns to the disciples and asks them point blank, “Who do you say that I am.” It’s not how others identify Jesus that is ultimately important. It’s the role Jesus plays in our lives. 

Peter’s confession

Hearing this question, Peter jumps up and says, “You’re the Messiah of God.” Good work, Peter. Of course, knowing this doesn’t mean that Peter will always be faithful. We know he’ll deny Jesus. But for now, Peter is the man of the hour. He gets who Jesus is, but like us he will struggle the rest of his life to follow Jesus in a worthy manner. 

The hard truth of God’s Messiah

The disciples now understanding Jesus’ nature, that he’s not just a man; he’s also God’s Messiah. Then Jesus seemingly pours cold water on their heads as he informs them of the difficulties ahead. The Son of Man will be rejected and killed yet rise on the third day. 

I’m sure the disciples didn’t see this coming. This wasn’t their idea of the Messiah.

Expectations of disciples

Jesus continues, teaching not just about what will happen to him but his expectation from his disciples. A disciple must deny him or herself and follow Jesus down this hard road. We live within a paradox. Discipleship can be counter intuitive. If we want to save our lives, we must be willing to lose our lives. We can’t be a disciple for ourselves. As a disciple, we belong to Jesus, alone. He goes on to warn us of being ashamed of him. 

We know the cross was the ultimate symbol of shame in the Roman world, yet Jesus glorifies the cross. The disciples, then and now, may suffer. But will we stand with Jesus at the cross or will we hold on to worldly values and turn away in shame? 

Seeing the Kingdom

Finally, Jesus ends his teachings by letting people know there are those who will not taste death before they experience the kingdom of God. This last saying has created confusion over the years because way too many people try to interpret it through end time scenarios. By the time Luke wrote his gospel, according to what Jesus says, the kingdom was already here. The kingdom begins with the resurrection.[9] Of course, it may not have come in its fulness and we still long for heaven, but those who follow Jesus are called to into the kingdom in the present. 

These reverse values which Jesus presents, such as gaining life by losing it, begins now. Our total allegiance and our devotion are to God’s kingdom. We live and trust in Jesus. And Jesus is not some distant God. Because Jesus has been here, and lived a life like us, he knows what we’re going through. The dual nature of Jesus allows him to sympathize with our weakness and encourage us in our temptations. He understands our prayers. 

Conclusion 

I saw a sign the other day that read, “Prepare to meet thy God.” And while we should prepare to meet God, we shouldn’t do it in fear. If we’re following Jesus and have a regular and honest prayer life, there is no need to fear. For we already know God.[10] We’ve already met God. Instead of worrying about meeting God, we can look forward to that face-to-face meeting with joy and anticipation. Until then, keep praying and keep your eyes on Jesus. Amen. 

[1] Presbyterian Church USA, Book of Confessions, The Westminster Larger Catechism, Questions 38-40 (or 7.148-150) 

[2] Matthew 16:13-23 and Mark 8:27-33. 

[3] Luke 5:16. 

[4] Luke 6:12.

[5] Luke 18:9-14. 

[6][6] Luke 19:45-46.

[7] Luke 11:1-4, especially verse 2, “Your kingdom come.”

[8] See Luke 9.   Also see my sermon on this section: https://fromarockyhillside.com/2022/07/building-relationships/

[9] I. Howard Marshall, Commentary on Luke: New International Greek Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1978), 379.

[10] John 14:8-14.

Watch and listen to a few seconds of this morning
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The garden, summer projects, & the killing of al Qaeda

Below I am reposting something I wrote in early May 2011, upon learning the death of Osama Bin Laden. At the time, I posted it on Facebook and in a church newsletter. Facebook discontinued showing posted “notes,” so I am posting it here. After the killing of Ayman al-Zawahiri, Bin Laden’s successor this week in Kabul, along with the carnage in Ukraine, it seems we need to be reminded again of the value of life and the tragedy of a life lived in hatred and evil. But before we go there, let me tell you about my garden. It is a more pleasant topic.

The Garden

The garden coming along nicely. Over the past week, I have enjoyed daily tomato sandwiches. The tomatoes are just beginning to come in. I grew 7 varieties from seeds and have 21 plants. Most of the tomatoes will be canned or frozen for sauce, soup and salsa.

The cucumbers are fantastic (I have 5 varieties), but they are beginning to fade out. So far, I have put up 8 quarts of lime pickles (and have another 8 quarts soaking as I write), along with 6 quarts of sweet salad cube pickles. Last summer, I was in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan when the bulk of cucumbers came in and only put up one batch of pickles. I shouldn’t have to buy any this year!

In the middle of the garden (The hay is way too high and too brown, but we’ve had so much rain the farmer who cuts it just finished it this week)

I have eaten plenty of summer squash (yellow and zucchini) and have given a few away and some have ended up being recycled in my compost bin. Swiss chard is also doing well. The lettuce I finally turned over and will replant later this month.

This year, I am also growing winter squash and it appears the harvest of butternut squash will be incredible. There is no better soup than butternut squash soup, in my opinion. Acorn squash is also good to bake. Both tend to hold better than the summer squash. If you don’t eat the yellow squash in a few days, it goes soft.

My other summer project: The basement

bathroom tile

In addition to my garden, I have been working in the basement. Last week I finally finished tiling the bathroom. Next week I hope to get in the tub and toilet and be done with the bathroom A lot of the remaining work is finishing up with door trim and painting and putting in baseboard moulding. What have you been up to this summer?

The Death of Bin Laden

As an American, I went to bed happy last night after learning of the death of Osama Bin Laden. The man was capable of great evil and brought much suffering into the world. Yet I felt a tinge of guilt at the jubilation I and others were feeling. I spent much of the past 18 hours wondering about what an appropriate Christian response to Bin Laden’s death should be. How should those of us who follow the man from Galilee, who teaches us to love our enemies and to pray for our persecutors, handle the death of an enemy who has been responsible for so much evil in the world? Should we rally and jump for joy, or should we be more subdued and ponder the deeper mysteries of life and death? I think the latter is more appropriate.

In the Book of Proverbs, we’re advised not to gloat over the demise of our enemies. Such behavior is not pleasing to our God (Proverbs 24:17-18). King David had an opportunity to gloat over the death of his enemy, King Saul, whose death opened the way for David to assume the throne. But David grieved for Saul and his sons (2 Samuel 1). Death should always remind us of our humanity. Although God has created us with remarkable abilities, we are not God, and once life is gone, we cannot restore it. At the time of death, we should be humbled. Bin Laden was obviously endowed by his Creator with great talents which could have been used in ways to have alleviated suffering in the world. Instead of using his talents in such a manner, Bin Laden used his talents to build a network of hate and evil. We should grieve over a life wasted and which caused such much pain. But we should also remember that Bin Laden, although an evil man, is not the author of evil. Just because he is dead doesn’t mean that the world is going to suddenly become a harmonious place. Evil is still present. We will still face temptations and, until this age ends, we will deal with evil people. And although few of us are capable of the evil of a man like Bin Laden, none of us are completely sinless. 

At a time such as this, we should humble ourselves before God and one another, confessing our own sins and the sins of the human race. We should thank God for those who were brave enough to carry out this mission, but we should not celebrate over their accomplishment. Instead, we should continue to pray, as we do in the Lord’s Prayer, for God’s will to be done and God’s kingdom to come. And finally, we should challenge evil, not just with the sword, but with acts of charity and kindness, demonstrating the grace that our Savior has shown us.       

–Jeff Garrison
May 4, 2011

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God can multiply our efforts

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
July 31, 2022
Luke 9:10-17

I’m not sure what happened to the title slide… Like my tie? It ties into the story. Sermon recorded under the picnic shelter at Bluemont Church.

At the beginning of worship:

Do any of you know what miracle is found in all four of the gospels? Let me give you a hint, it has to do with food.

Meals are important in Scripture. It’s with a meal the Jewish people recall the Exodus experience, when they were freed from bondage in Egypt. It’s with a meal Jesus has us to share with one another to recall his ministry along with his death and resurrection. Symbolically, heaven is described as a banquet or a wedding feast.[1]

Meals and feeding others are a part of what the church is to be about. It may be a hot dog roast or a potluck dinner for members, a soup kitchen or food pantry for those in need. We must eat and it’s best when we share food with others. 

Today we’re going to look at the story of Jesus feeding the 5,000 (plus) in Luke’s gospel. It’s the only miracle that can be found in all four gospels, so it’s a big deal.[2]

Before the reading of Scripture

For the past couple of months, we’ve been working our way through the middle part of Luke’s gospel as we consider how Jesus’ teachings and ministry might inform today’s church. Last week, we ended with Herod asking a question. “Just who is this guy doing all this stuff?”[3]

Luke likes to let questions linger and then have them answered in a later story. We saw this after the storm on Galilee. Jesus calmed the wind and waves, and the disciples ask each other, “who is this guy?”[4] We’re left hanging without an answer until they pull ashore. There, a demon-possessed man shouts the answer: “Jesus, Son of the Living God.”[5]

In today’s passage we’re not going to get a direct answer to this question. That’ll come next week. But we get an indirect answer. Once again, we see Jesus doing only what God can do. He performs a miracle that is every bit as incredible as manna that fed the Hebrew people in the desert.[6] He feeds a lot of people. 

Feeding 5,000 plus

We’re told there are 5,000 men there, but the word here is not the Greek word that’s often translated as men but means humankind.[7] This is a word that means male, which implies there are a lot more than 5,000 people present if we account for women. Of course, that’s a minor detail. It makes little difference if it’s 5 or 10 thousand if all you have are a few small loaves of bread and some fish. As a mere mortal, we’d be unable to feed everyone. Like it was in last week’s sermon, Jesus trains the disciples to depend upon God. 

Let’s listen to how Luke tells this story of our Savior: 

Read Luke 9:10-17

An unexpected gift

“Jeff Garrison.” On my first winter of seminary, while walking the hallway between classes, I was shocked to hear Sam Calian, the seminary president, call out my name. He wanted to see me in his office. I wondered what I’d done. I felt I was being called into the principal’s office, a place I got to know well in elementary and junior high.

When I stepped into his office, I was even more surprised by his question. “You’ve cooked duck, haven’t you?” 

“Yes,” I said. I had no idea where this conversation was going. I thought it best not to tell him that the two ducks I’d cooked, had been slathered with an orange liqueur sauce. This was an attempt to impress potential girlfriends. It worked on the first one, so I tried it again. 

“I’ll give you some ducks if you want to prepare them for some of the students,” he said. 

“Where did these ducks come from?” I asked.

“One of the board members gave them to me. He shoots them up in Canada. They’ve all been cleaned and packaged. I don’t plan to cook them, so they’re yours if you want.”

These were not going to be those plumb store brought ducks.

I began to understand. As a male Southerner, he assumed I hunted and prepared my own meat, probably over a fireplace in some run-down piney wood cabin. 

An impromptu party

Not sure what to expect, the next day he told me the ducks were in the freezer in the cafeteria. I went to look. The box held about twenty birds. There wasn’t anything else to do but to call for a party. And, in the pre-Google days, figure out how to cook these birds. 

I gathered up a group, made assignments for side dishes, and borrowed two large baking pans from the cafeteria. That Saturday, we had a heck of a party. The next year, we had even an even better party. These ducks, like the bread and fish in our story, were a gift that kept giving.

The setting of our reading:

As we continue along in the middle part of Luke’s gospel, we learn that 12 have returned from their missionary trip. They tell Jesus all that’s happened as they head to Bethsaida. The name of the town means, “The house of fishers.” Appropriate, as it’s the city of the fishermen: Peter, Philip, and Andrew.[8]

Our Savior tries to pull the 12 off by themselves, probably to debrief. Yet people still want to see Jesus. His popularity is probably helped in these parts by Peter and the other local boys who have done good. So now, thousands of people flock to Jesus. 

Jesus welcomes the crowd

And what does Jesus do? He welcomes them. Jesus tends to their needs. He heals the sick and teaches about the Kingdom of God. But as the sun drops closer to the horizon, the disciples worry. Where are they going to get enough food to feed all these people. So, they suggest that Jesus disperse the crowds so they can find food. It’s an honest suggestion. People must eat. Besides, to have thousands of hungry stomachs grumbling wouldn’t look good for the local boys. 

The disciples’ problem

Jesus tells them to feed the crowd. Now it’s their problem. Looking at what little they have available, five loaves and two fish, they ask if they should go into the towns and buy all the bread available. With so many, we can imagine the shelves of bakeries looking like the shelves of grocery stores the day before a forecasted blizzard. 

What we learn from the other Gospels

Now, at this point, other gospels provide different information. John’s gospel tells us the bread and fish came from a boy’s lunch. Mark depicts Jesus being more forceful with the disciples who appear to question his ability.[9] Luke has Jesus give orders and the disciples being obedient as they separate the crowd into manageable groups of fifty. Then Jesus looks to heaven as he blesses and breaks the bread. And miraculously, the disciples feed the crowd. 

Two words: “All” and “Filled”

We’re told that all ate and were filled. The words all and filled are both significant. The later would have reminded the disciples of Jesus second beatitude as recorded by Luke, “Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled.[10] The word “all” is perhaps more significant. In Jewish society, the eating of food was highly regulated. One had to abide by laws over the type of food and utensils, how it is prepared and who is clean. The dining room table excluded those not clean. But here, the kosher requirements are overlooked. Everyone is welcomed.[11]

Not only that, but after everyone has been fed, there is an abundance of food. Each of the twelve haul away a basket full of scraps. 

Other feeding stories

This story harkens back to the story of the feeding of the Israelites in the desert, as well as looks forward to the celebration of the Lord’s Supper, which Jesus instituted on the night of his betrayal. The sharing of food is important for Christians. And not just among ourselves, but for anyone hungry. It’s not just the faithful, those who believed Jesus, that were feed that day. All were fed… 

First point: feeding people

The first point to realize that the church, which is called to exhibit God’s kingdom to the world, is to be generous. We are to do what it can to care for the needs of others. “Feed them,” Jesus said. At the end of John’s gospel, when Jesus talks with Peter, he insists three times that if Peter loves Jesus he should be feeding or tending his sheep. That’s the church’s role, then and now, to feed people. 

Monthly, we take up the two-cent a meal offering that goes to help fight hunger. We are to help those who are hungry with food. Furthermore, we help those who hunger for knowledge and understanding by sharing Jesus’ story. The church is about feeding the hungry, regardless of what they’re hungry for. 

Second point: God blesses our offerings

The second point to understand from this passage is that when we trust and give to God, God can bless and multiply our gifts. 

What would have happened if one or two of the disciples slipped away with the five loaves and two fish to satisfy their hunger? They could have had their own little party. But they shared even when it seemed they had only a drop in the bucket of what was needed. Don’t ever think you don’t have enough to make a difference. What little we have, when give to God, can be enough. 

As Paul tells the Corinthians, God uses what is weak and lowly to show his glory in the world.[12] Think about the widow giving her mite.[13] We are to be generous with what we have and trust God to make up the difference.

Conclusion

Food has a way to bring us together, as it did with the 100s of groups of 50 gathered around Jesus that afternoon. Like those duck dinners at seminary, sharing brings us closer. We all need to eat, and it’s good to eat with others. It’s even better to share with those who need, whether its physical nourishment or just companionship and encouragement. Let’s do it. Amen.

[1] This idea has its roots in Isaiah 25:6. The find the wedding concept in Revelation 21. Matthew 8:11 also describes a gathering of people from all around for a banquet with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

[2] Matthew 14:13-21, Mark 6:30-44, John 6:1-14

[3] Luke 9:7-9.  See my sermon on the larger passage: https://fromarockyhillside.com/2022/07/building-relationships/

[4] Luke 8:22-25.  See my sermon on this passage: https://fromarockyhillside.com/2022/07/let-jesus-calm-our-hearts/

[5] Luke 8:28. See my sermon on this passage: https://fromarockyhillside.com/2022/07/from-demon-possessed-to-gentile-evangelist/

[6] Exodus 16.

[7] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Luke (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2015), 265. 

[8] Edwards, 265. 

[9] John 6:1-15, Mark 6:30-44.

[10] Luke 6:2.

[11] Edwards, 267. 

[12] 1 Corinthians 1:18-31. 

[13] Luke 21:1-4

Some of God’s gifts are slower in coming. Butternut squash on the vine.
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Heading to Iona

In 2017, I spent a week in a Christian community on Iona, an island in the Scottish Inner-Hebrides. This is a description of my journey to the Island. It’s an all day trip from Edinburgh, where I’d stayed with friends. I had hope to lead a group to Iona afterwards, but the next summer, the Abbey was closed for renovation. In 2019, it was only partly open, then along came COVID! This is an edited post that I am migrating over from another blog.

Leaving Edinburgh 
With Ewan, on Arthur’s Throne

After a quick breakfast of porridge with Ewan, we head to the train station. I thank him for his hospitality and walk down the ramp to board the waiting 7:15 AM train for Glasgow. This is the first of my multiple leg journey to the Isle of Iona. Minutes later, the train rolls through the countryside, stopping every so often at a station where an automatize voice of a woman encourages folks to “Please mind the gap when alighting this train.” As it’s Saturday, the train has few passengers. The conductor stops and talks, telling me where the best to get coffee in the Glasgow Station (which he recommends over the coffee they serve on the train). I ask him where I can find a bank machine (they don’t call them ATMs over here) and we talk about the West Highland Line which I’ll be taking to Oban.

In Glasgow: banking troubles
Trains leaving Edinburgh station

I only have fifteen minutes in Glasgow. I grab coffee and then head to the bank machine. My card is denied. I try again. It’s denied again. The call for the boarding the 8:21 train north. The next train is two hours later, and I don’t want to wait. I have some cash on me, maybe 50 pounds, but know that once I get to Iona, I will need cash. I’ve been told most places won’t take plastic and there are no bank machines. Thankfully, I’ve prepaid for the week. At least I will have a place to stay and can eat.

The train pulls out of Queen Street Station and soon we’re leaving the city behind as we race along the north bank of the Clyde River. I try to reach my bank by cell phone. This isn’t a local back, it’s a rather large regional Midwestern bank, but even their call center has “banker hours.” Its 3 AM back in Ohio. I hope to have time to get things straightened out during my short layover in Oban. I want to kick myself for not calling them before leaving the country, but I try to put the worry behind me. There is nothing I can do at this time. I look out the window. It’s rainy and gloomy.   

Heading north

At Dulmuir, a group of young women board. They’re loud and keep jumping back and forth from seats. I offer to trade with the one of them who sits across the aisle with a couple from Glasgow, so they could all be together. Furthermore, I can be on the side of the train with the water. The train is now moving northwest, running alongside Gare Loch and Loch Long, both saltwater lochs open out into the Firth of Clyde. The couple tell me there’s a naval base along here for submarines. 

Their son has spent his life at sea, mostly as an officer on merchant vessels. The woman tells me about his ship being at Newark, New Jersey on that fateful day in 2001. As it was mid-day in Scotland, he called to talk and was on the phone when the first plane crashed into the World Trade Center. He has since given up traveling the world and today is a captain of a buoy and lighthouse tender. His ship is in Oban for the day, so they’re taking the train up to have lunch with him.

The train leaves Loch Long and passes over a short bit of land before coming into Talbert, on Lock Lomond, one of the more famous lochs in Scotland. We run alongside the loch for ten or so miles before climbing into the hills north of the loch. 

At Crianlarich, which appears to be just a train station in the woods, the train splits. They had informed us in Glasgow to sit in the front two coaches. We’re now bound for Oban. The last four coaches head for Fort Williams and Mallaig (a line I plan to ride next Friday). After a few minutes, we’re riding through the woods. After Dalmally, we come alongside Loch Awe (what a wonderful name). In the middle of the lock are the ruins of a castle. We are heading west now, and soon pick up Loch Etive, which is open to the sea.  I’ve recently read that the furthest you can get from the sea in Britain is sixty-five miles and looking how these saltwater lochs reach so far inland, I understand how that’s probably the case.

Still worrying about my bank card as we head into Oban

My worry over my bank card has bothered me all morning. Then it dawns on me that I have another bank card on me. While it’s a bank I don’t use as often, generally it is just to hold cash, it’s local and a few days before I left, I had made a deposit. Doing so, I told the teller of my plans for travel out of the country. She assured me she’d make a note on my account so I wouldn’t have a problem. I’m more than a little relieved as I’m not sure I’ll have time to contact the other bank when in Oban.  

Buoy Tender at Oban

After Connel, the train turned south and we’re soon in Oban, an old town built around a harbor. It claims to be the seafood capital of the world. The couple point out their son’s ship, docked just behind the ferry terminal. I bid them farewell and wish them a wonderful lunch and walk out of the train station looking for a bank.  It all falls in place. There’s a Bank of Scotland with an ATM just across the street from the train station. On the other side is the ferry terminal. I have nearly an hour before it leaves. I withdraw 200 pounds from the bank, then walk across the street and buy lunch from a vendor (a tuna and cucumber sandwich and an apple). 

Ferry to Mull

Taking the lunch with me, I board the ferry for a fifty-minute trip to Craignure on the Isle of Mull. With spendable cash in my wallet (my American dollars aren’t much good), I’m at ease. I find a place to sit on the upper deck. I’m sheltered from the weather, but am outside. I sit down and enjoy my sandwich as the boat pulls away from the port and makes its way through the harbor.

The harbor has several sailboats moored, as another makes its way into the safety behind the break wall as we push off from the pier. The day is stormy, and I wear a rain jacket. The entrance to the harbor is rather narrow. The ship slows to let a small passenger ship (or a large yacht) make its way into the safety of the harbor. As we go outside, the waters are rougher. I can’t imagine sailing in such waters in the small boat as had just made for the harbor. 

Thoughts on Iona
Cross in front of Iona Abbey

As we leave the mainland, I think about my destination. I’ve wanted to visit Iona for a long time and now can achieve this goal. Iona has been a destination for pilgrims and the curious for nearly 1500 years. In 563, an Irish abbot named Columba and a group of twelve disciples (sound familiar) land on Iona, where they set up a religious community. At this time, sea travel was easier than traveling overland on non-existent roads, and the small island becomes a center of faith and learning that extends throughout the British and Irish mainland and the islands that surrounded them. The Book of Kell’s was supposedly produced here, and some think the practice of carving large stone crosses which are prominent in Ireland and on some of the Scottish Islands, also began on Iona. The community thrived until the 10th Century when Viking raiders began to pillage the islands. Although a few monks continued to live on the island, the center of learning was moved to Ireland where it was safer from these raids. 

In the 12th Century, after the Viking threat had waned, the island began a new period of importance as a Benedictine monastery was founded on the site of Columba’s monastery. About the same time, an Augustine nunnery was also founded on the island. These two continued until the Scottish Reformation in 1560. Afterwards, the site slowly began to crumble, but became a place for artists and authors to visit (a who’s who of British literature in the 18th and 19 century made journeys to Iona). Eventually, the site became property to the Duke of Argyll, who allowed it to be used as a place of worship for all denominations (Church of Scotland/Presbyterian, Roman Catholics, and the Scottish Episcopal Church). In the late 19th Century, he turned the site over to a Trust who worked to restore the ruins. In the 1930s, a new Iona Community emerged and continues to this day.

Crossing to the Isle of Mull
Rough Waters

Approaching Mull, at Craignure, we pass the ruins of the Durant Castle. This country feels old. Soon, we pull up to the pier and those who have cars below are asked to go below and prepare to disembark. Along with maybe a hundred or so others, I disembark down the gangway to a line of buses. I find the bus for Iona and stow my backpack in the luggage compartment and pay the 15 pounds (round trip as I’ll be returning this way next Friday) and take a seat in the back.

It’s nearly fifty wet miles across Mull, mostly on one lane roads (with turnouts so that vehicles can pass one another). The bus runs across Glen More in the center of Mull, and then drops down to the Ross of Mull, where we run along Loch Scridain. The driver is a bit of a maniac, gunning the engine where there is nothing ahead and at times stomping on the brakes in time to pull into a passing place.  It’s still raining but the countryside is beautiful, with lots of rocky hills, plenty of wildflowers, fields covered with ferns, and interesting varieties of cows and sheep. The distant hills and mountains are shrouded with fog. After nearly an hour, we pull into the small town of Fionnphort, where we unload.

Ferry to Iona

Everyone on the bus is headed to Iona, with most spending a week as a part of the Iona Community. I began to introduce myself to folks who have been on the same train and ferries going back to Glasgow. We all stand at the ferry terminal, with our packs and suitcases beside us, watching the ferry bounce around in the water as it makes its way across. Iona is easily seen in the distance. This ferry is a lot smaller than the other one. There are just two cars going across (a special permit is required to take an automobile to this island that’s only 5 miles long). Most of us are on foot. We board and I find a sheltered place up top, where I can watch the island approach.  

On Iona
Abbey on Iona

The Iona Abbey is easy to spot. Soon, I’m on the last leg of my journey, a fifteen-minute ride across the Sound of Iona, in which I gain my sea legs. The ferry pitches and rolls and struggles to dock against a strong wind and tide.  Once we arrive, we time as we get off the ferry, so that we avoid splashing our feet in the water. There are vehicles waiting to take our luggage, while it’s up to us to walk the third of a mile to the Abbey and the MacLeod Center (I’m staying in the later). 

At the McLeod Center, I find my bunk and unpack. It’s an hour before dinner, so I lay down and watch through the window the grass blow in the wet wind. I love the sound of the wind, and soon am napping to its calming presence.    

Worship in the Abbey

Dinner is simple but delicious: carrot and turnip soup, good chewy bread, raw vegetables, fruit, and desert with coffee. Afterwards, we spend a few minutes getting to know everyone, learning our duties for the week (I’m to help at breakfast and will chop vegetables for the lunch and evening meals). At 7:30 PM, we walk in the rain down to the Abbey for the welcoming worship service. Lighted with candles, the sanctuary is beautiful. It’s still light after the service. This far north it will be for several more hours. I’ve been up a long time. Tired, I go to bed early. 

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Building Relationships

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
July 24, 2022
Luke 9:1-9

Sermon recorded at Mayberry Church on Friday, July 22, 2022

At the beginning of worship:

Have you ever thought of yourself as a “Little Jesus?”  What if I suggest that’s what we are to be? As a part of Christ’s church, we become Jesus’ hands and feet in the world. We carry on his mission of love and sharing his grace. This task was first given to the 12 disciples and has passed down through the centuries to us. We’re going to learn today about the first time Jesus sent out the disciples to do his work. 

Not in it to win it

We are called to make a difference in our world. As followers of Jesus, we live by different values than the world. As Andy Stanley, in his newest book proclaims, the church is not about winning. Jesus didn’t set out to win the world. Instead, he gave his life for the world, and calls us to also sacrifice for the good of others.[1] It’s not about winning, but about showing Jesus’ love in our lives and everyday encounters. 

Too often we use terms like “winning the world for Christ.” In the late 19th Century, the student volunteer movement for missions set its goal as “the evangelization of the world in this generation.” While a noble goal, it is too easy to think the burden is upon us. While God uses us to display a new way of relating in the world, or as the founding documents of the Presbyterian Church state, “to exhibit the kingdom of Heaven to the world,”[2] we’re not in a competition for victory. The victory belongs to Jesus already. Let us call ourselves to worship.

Before the reading of scripture

Since their calling in the 6th chapter of Luke,[3] we have seen how the twelve listened, learned, and observed Jesus. This was in preparation for the moment they would assume the work of Jesus on their own. At the beginning of the 9th Chapter of Luke, they’re given a trial run.

While our reading today focuses on the 12 disciples, Luke points out that there were more than 12 disciples, including some women.[4] However, the 12 take on special significance. These learn from watching Jesus as he teaches and ministers toward those in need. While they remain Jesus’ disciples, they are to begin to take on a more active role in sharing Jesus’ work in the world. Eventually, eleven of the twelve will become Apostles and responsible for taking Jesus’ teachings to the end of the world.[5]

Disciples in the Ancient World

The concept of disciples gathering around teachers was well-known in the ancient world. Centuries before Jesus, the Greeks had developed such a relationship between teachers and students. Plato was a disciple of Socrates and remained so even after his teacher died. He would always be a disciple of Socrates, even when he had his own disciples or students, who attended his Academy. 

Aristotle was one of Plato’s disciples, but he, too, developed disciples of his own and taught then in Athens’s Lyceum. Other Greek thinkers gathered their own disciples. A disciple is to learn from their teacher, their master, and then apply their learning in the world.[6] As we’re disciples of Jesus, we should be doing the same.

Read Luke 9:1-9

Backpacking: Traveling Light

One of the things I appreciate about backpacking is how such travels puts everyone on the same plane. Rich and poor, you’re all the same once you get a day’s walk into the woods. Ironically, the one who can get by with the least has a much richer experience than the one who tries to drag everything inside a backpack. Carrying a 70- or 80-pound pack, as I’ve seen some do, is absurd. It might be okay going to war, but if you’re out to enjoy God’s creation, such a pack will only slow you down, hold you back, and exhaust you. It is hard to enjoy the view of the mountains when you have that kind of burden. 

Grandma Gatewood

One of the legends to have hiked the Appalachian Trail is Emma Gatewood, better known as Grandma Gatewood. She first hiked the entire trail in 1955 at the age of 67. She would hike it twice again.  Along the way, she carried a few clothes, supplies, and a little food. She took a shower curtain for when it rained. A denim bag served as her pack. She was the definitive an ultra-light backpacker. Because she took so little, she often depended on the generosity of strangers for food.[7]

The disciples traveling light

Jesus sends the twelve out across the landscape and has them travel very light. They don’t even have a staff, which is okay because they’re not taking anything extra with them. A staff is good when you need a third leg to help you balance, such as when you have a heavy pack.  Of course, a staff is also good to discourage angry dogs and to push snakes out of the path. For those, I suppose the twelve had to depend on God or a good neighbor.

Depending on God and Stranger

The twelve carry no food, no money, no extra clothes…. Jesus’ purpose is two-fold. He wants the disciples to learn how to depend on God and on the goodness of others. Furthermore, by having the disciples depend on the goodness of others, Jesus forces them to meet and encounter others along their way. What a better way to get to know someone than to share a meal. Jesus sets up the disciples to emphasize personal relationships and not to be burdened by stuff.[8]  

 No hedging of bets

Going out into the world with nothing, the disciples cannot hedge their bets or provide themselves a social safety net. Perhaps another reason Jesus has the disciples to go without money is another of our human traits. He knows if the disciples wait until they had enough money for their mission, it would be like us waiting to have enough money to have children. Few of us would ever get to the point where we felt we had enough. This is urgent business, and the disciples need to hit the road. 

Modern hobos

Several years ago, I picked up a book in a bargain warehouse about modern day hobos.[9] The book was written by this one hobo who often traveled without a ticket by rail. Sometimes he’d even fly to a distant city to ride a particular scenic line though the mountains. Occasionally, this guy and his friends would encounter real hobos, but they generally kept their distance. 

I wondered what the real hobos thought of them. After all, these were all successful and professional men. They used cell phones to communicate with each other about the best car to jump aboard or how to avoid the railroad police. 

Another thing separated them from real hobos. A real hobo might cook his stew in a tin can over a fire. When they got hungry, they’d jump off the train, pull out a credit card, and rent a room in a hotel. After cleaning up, they’d go out for a nice meal. Such abilities set them apart. 

Think about riding an open car over a particularly cold pass in the Rockies. Instead of continuing to freeze, they get to warm up in a hotel’s hot tub. When you travel like this, you don’t exactly open yourself up to make friends with the real hobos.

Taking the easy way out

As humans, we often take the easy way out. Knowing this, Jesus sends the disciples out in a manner that forces them to depend on God and others for their safety and comfort. 

Furthermore, Jesus wants the disciples to appreciate what is offered to them. When they come into a village and someone opens their home, they are to remain there until they move along. They’re not to accept a better offer, say from the owner of the villa upon the hill with the swimming pool. Accepting such an offer might offend their earlier host. Sent out in this manner, they to be grateful for what they’re offered. 

Biblical Hospitality

I should say something about the New Testament concept of hospitality.[10] It’s not throwing a nice party for friends.[11]Anyone can show hospitality to friends. But when such hospitality is shown to a stranger, that’s special. 

As the disciples learned from their master, they’re to now trust him as they participate in the expand his mission in the world. Their assignment is to utilize word and deed as they expand Jesus’ ministry. They have learned Jesus’ true nature, now they’re to share it with the world.[12]

The word spreads to Herod

Interestingly, Luke doesn’t tell us of their success, just that they went out preaching and teaching. Instead, he lets us know that Herod, the ruler, has his ears to the ground. He knows something is up and begins to ask questions. “It can’t be John,” Herod thinks. “I’ve beheaded him. Is it another prophet?” And how many of them? It’s no longer this one guy I’m hearing about, they are all over the place, in different villages at the same time. 

We’re told that Herod wants to see Jesus. This Herod is the son Herod the Great whom we’re told in Matthew’s gospel, killed a lot of babies to do away with Jesus.[13] Herod Jr. is neither as cruel nor as capable of a letter as his father.[14] He expresses an interest in seeing Jesus, which he will do, but only during Jesus’ trial. Herod only wants to see one of Jesus’ miracles, as if he’s a traveling magician. Jesus refuses and so Herod and his soldiers mock Jesus before sending him back to Pilate.[15]

In a small way, the disciples begin to build the foundation upon which the church would be built. The word gets out through their preaching and mercy. Not only do the masses hear about Jesus, so does the ruler in the land.[16]

The task of the 12 has now become ours. We are to share the good news. While we’re not always equipped to heal like the twelve, we are able to offer hope and encouragement as we walk with others on their journey toward healing. 

Doing our part

Think about how you might do your part. Who do you know that you might reach out and invite out for breakfast or a cup of coffee and spend some time seeing how they’re doing? Who might you offer to help, to show the agape love of a disciple? We make the world better one disciple at a time. Discipleship is more about one-on-one relationships than big crusades or campaigns.[17]With whom might you develop such a relationship? Who can you reach out to know? Invite them to church with you and to Sunday brunch afterwards. Build relationships!


Like the disciples, we’ll never be fully prepared. Instead, we step out in faith and trust God to give us what we need so that Jesus might make a difference in someone’s life. Trust God and build relationships with others. The twelve did it and so should we. Amen. 

6:29 AM this morning. Sunrise with fog in the valley

[1] Andy Stanley, Not In It To Win It: Why Choosing Sides Sidelines the Church (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2022). For my review of Stanley’s book, Click here. https://fromarockyhillside.com/2022/07/catching-up-on-my-reading/

[2] Presbyterian Church USA, Book of Order, F-1.0304.

[3] Jesus had called disciples earlier as in Luke 5:1-10, 27-31, but in Luke 6:12-16, he specifically calls “the Twelve.”  

[4] See Luke 8:1-3 or my sermon on the text at https://fromarockyhillside.com/2022/06/were-called-to-be-farmers/   Luke also mentions the 70 whom Jesus later sends off 2 by 2. See Luke 10:1-12.

[5] The one missing of the 12, who did not become an Apostle, is Judas. 

[6] For an insight into the various discipleship schools of Greece, see the opening chapters of Arthur Herman, The Cave and the Light: Plato Versus Aristotle, and the Struggle for the Soul of Western Civilization (New York: Random House Paperbacks, 2014). 

[7] See Ben Montgomery, Grandma Gatewood’s Walk: The Inspiring Story of the Woman Who Saved the Appalachian Trail (Chicago: Chicago Review Press, 2014). 

[8] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Luke (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 2015), 262. 

[9] William T. Vollmann, Riding Toward Everywhere (HarperCollins, 2008). 

[10] Fred Craddock, Luke: Interpretation, A Biblical Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville, John Knox Press, 1990), 121.  For one of my sermons on hospitality from Hebrews 13, see https://fromarockyhillside.com/2021/06/christians-should-be-outstanding-citizens/

[11] Jesus emphasizes this point in the Sermon on the Mount. “And if you greet only your brothers, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that?” Matthew 6:47. 

[12] Edwards, 260.

[13] Matthew 2:7-18

[14] Edwards, 666.

[15] Luke 23:7-12.

[16] Norval Geldenhuys, The Gospel of Luke (Grand Rapids, Eerdman, 1983), 267-8.

[17] Edwards, 262.

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Catching Up on my Reading

Today, I’m just trying to catch up on some books I’ve read over the past few weeks… If one doesn’t interest you, you can skip it and move on to the others.

Andy Stanley, Not in It to Win It: Why Choosing Sides Sidelines the Church 

Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2022), 231 pages. 

This is a book that needs to be read. And there should be no excuses. Stanley is a master communicator. He’s easy to read. Unlike many books I read, I didn’t have to look up a single word. But his message and the warning for the church is clear. The evangelical church, of which he’s a part, has sold out Jesus and are more interested in winning politically than following Jesus. And because of this, they have lost the message of love and grace. 

Stanley grew up Southern Baptist. His father is Charles Stanley, one of the best-known preachers in the South Baptist denomination. In 1995, Andy Stanley started “North Point Ministries,” a large multi-campus church in Atlanta. He acknowledges that many of his members probably disagree with him. He refuses to endorse political candidates and even challenges the militaristic metaphors often used in church. We may sing “Onward Christian Soldiers,” but Jesus did the opposite as he laid down his life for us. 

Not everyone is going to like what he has to say in this book. In the summer of 2020, his church decided to stay closed because of COVID. Many people accused him of selling out. However, Stanley saw it as loving and caring for one another, especially the most vulnerable. His decision to keep the church virtual through 2020 caught the attention of CNN. They interviewed him, which upset others. After all, CNN was not their network of choice.  Stanley defends his action by reflecting on what Jesus did and suggesting that if CNN was “the enemy,” that was even more reason to accept the invitation to talk to them. 

While Stanley stays mostly neutral on political themes, he challenges some political events like like the Jericho March (A group of pro-Trump supporters who marched on state houses and on January 6, the Capitol in a belief that Trump really won the election). He also points out that using hateful speech toward those whose lifestyle we disagree with or those of different political views from ours as an expression of our faith have gotten Jesus’ message wrong. While he acknowledges that this happens on both side of the political aisle, he appears to come down harder on those who are more like him, on the conservative spectrum. 

Stanley makes the point that we are to follow Jesus. This means we can’t just believe. Jesus calls us to action, which is based on love for everyone, not just those like us. While he encourages his followers to participate in the political realm, he doesn’t come out to say they should vote in a particular manner. 

Recommendations

The one place within Stanley’s thoughts that bothered me is that he seems to have “moved on” completely from the Old Testament. He joked at one point about one sermon he gave from the Old Testament, but it seems to me he draws his theology exclusively from the New Testament. His emphasis on actionable items may sound like works too many. I think we live in a tension that is found with the two testaments and between law and gospel. However, I wouldn’t let this discourage anyone from reading this book. Stanley challenges us to reconsider how the church handles politics. It is a challenge worth taking. 

Quotes:

“You can’t make disciples of people you demonize publicly, and label as enemies of the faith or the state.” (27-28)

“One of the many things I appreciate about Jesus is that he was never concerned about guilt by association. If he had been, he would have stayed in heaven. He would have certainly refused to associate with me.” (37)

“When we reimagine Jesus to fit our partisan agendas, we rob the world of the message that changed the world… We cancel the message that canceled our sin.” (58)

On there being no difference between believing and non-believe party members: “You rarely hear Republicans or Democrats who consider themselves Jesus followers make or draw that distinction. But it would be easy to do if national leaders were more committed to their faith than their political party.” (85)

“We are not at war with the culture. Culture-war Christianity is not simply a waste of time, it is diametrically opposed to the teaching of Paul and the example of Jesus.” (129)

“The path of least resistance is always to complain about everything and do nothing about anything.” (203)

Rick Bass, Why I Came West: A Memoir

(Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2008), 238 pages. 

Rich Bass is writer who lives in Montana’s Yaak Valley. However, he grew up around Houston, Texas. He attended college at Utah State in Logan, where he lives in the “Gentile Sandwich, a floor within the dorm for non-Mormon students. The floors above and below were all filled with members of the LDS Church. Afterwards, he worked in the oil exploration business in Mississippi, before heading back west. He found his home in the Yaak Valley and had lived there at the time he was writing the book for 21 years. 

Bass refers to this book as a memoir. While I agree there are memoir-like parts to the book, especially the first part, much of the book seems more a series of essays around creating designated wilderness areas in Bass’ backyard. 

I am drawn to and comforted by Bass’ paradox. He is an environmentalist that hunts (he stocks away the meat from an elk and a deer and some birds). He is amused at how those who read or hear him speak are shocked by this. Bass also uses a chainsaw and believes that we can’t stop cutting trees. He is for more responsible land use and is comfortable with what many as a paradox. 

Bass also shares how he has been attacked by those who see wilderness as a threat. Sometimes the attacks are frightening, but often they are only emotionally hurtful. Yet, despite this, he continues to save the remaining wild parts of the world in his neighborhood. 

Favorite and humorous sections

My favorite chapters (or essays) in the book are “Landscape and Imagination” and “The Poison of Language. In the first, Bass draws on how the duality and tension within landscape gives birth to narrative. Bass, writing as an environmentalist, like George Orwell’s essay “Politics and the English Language,” points out how language is often abused to sell us stuff. It can be a product, a land management practice, or a political idea. However, language also holds the power to enchant us and encourage us to protect our wild spaces.

The most humorous essay are his bear spray stories. Reading them, I began to wonder if carrying bear spray is a little like arming yourself with a gun for protection. Statistically, the person you’re most likely to shoot is yourself. And Bass seems pretty good at ending up on the wrong end of pepper spray.  The funniest story was sneaking what he thought was his date’s breath freshener from her purse when she had gone to the bathroom.  A quick whiff of her self-defense device and he was no longer in the mood and she didn’t have anything to worry about that evening. 

I was drawn to this book because I had never read any of Bass’ books and felt I should get to know him. As one who has spent a dozen years in the American West, and who still finds it enchanting, the title also title drew me in. I recommend this book if you have such feelings for a particular place on earth.  Bass tells a good story. 

Quotes: 

“The West has never been anything but a colony of the extractive industries, feasting (with the benefits of full congressional subsidy) on the splendor of these public wildlands. But the extractive industries have been very shy in doing everything they can to promulgate this myth of the rugged and completely independent individual: enhancing the already existing wall that stands between the rural West and the rest of the outside world…” (45)

“What kind of environmentalist am I, really, to be still using petroleum and to still be using wood? Almost nothing, really, with regard to our huge presence in the world these days, is in the least bit sustainable. This certainly doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do the best we can. I think what it does man is we shouldn’t be high and mighty, and should never forget the unaccountability of the awful and immense cost of the joyous gift of us being here—and again, while trying to do as little harm, or even as much good, int hose areas of our lives where we are most active and passionate, it may be perceived there is a sin or paradox here, to be desiring perfection and absolute sustainability even when it is not possible, and to likewise be advocating for the protection of pristine country even while seeking elsewhere to be more actively managed and manipulate the fringes of an ecosystem.”  (92-3)

James R. Edwards, From Christ to Christianity: How the Jesus Movement Became the Church in Less than a Century 

(Grand Rapids: Baker Academics, 2021), 290 pages include indexes, bibliography, maps.

Our knowledge of the first few centuries of the Christian era is shrouded. While the book of Acts focuses on the early growth and mission of the church, it only follows one strand, the taking of the gospel to Rome. Other threads of mission that saw the church growth in Africa including Alexander, into Asia including India and China, and deeper into Europe remain a mystery. In this book, James Edwards attempts, where possible, to reconstruct the history of the early church during its first century.  

Each of the chapters within this book focuses on a movement. From rural to urban, Edwards looks at how the “Jesus movement” that began among rural Galilean peasants spread to urban areas while dying out in the place of its birth. Other chapters focus on books the physical movement from its first urban center, Jerusalem, to Rome and into Asia and Africa. Other chapters focus on a shift of language from Hebrew and Aramaic to Greek, from a Jewish to a Gentile movement, and a movement occurring through persecution. Much of the book focuses on the break from the Jewish tradition, as the emphasis moves from Torah to Kerygma, from the synagogue to the church, from a Jewish ethos to a Christian one, from an emphasis on the Passover to the Eucharist, from Sabbath (Saturday) to Sunday, and from a scroll to “codex” (or books). There are also chapters focusing internally on the church as it goes from a movement known as “the Way” to “Christian,” and as the leadership shifts from the Apostles to Bishops. 

A few interesting things I found in this vast study: 
  1. The split between those from those of the Jewish tradition and of the newer Christian tradition didn’t fully occur into the Jewish revolt in the 2nd Century. I always assumed the split came after the Jewish revolt of 66 AD. While the earlier revolt impacted the two traditions going separate ways, Edwards maintains it wasn’t until the later revolt that the split became permanent. 
  2. Pentecost was not the church’s beginning, as we often say and celebrate. Rather, it is the church’s equipping. 
  3. The synagogue became a place that followed Jews in comparison to the temple. The temple was a place where Jews travelled. Likewise, the church would forever “follow” believers rather than being a place to travel.  

This is a well-researched work. While Edwards draws heavily on both the Old and New Testament for understanding, he also draws from other primary sources. He explores the few early Christian works still available along with Jewish and pagan writers. I recommend it to those serious about early church history. It would make an excellent textbook for an advance class, perhaps in a seminary, on the topic of the early church. 

Quotes: 

“Eliminating evil does not result in a state of virtue; indeed, it may invite the return of greater evil.”  (166_

True martyrdom is not a single act at the end of life, however, but bearing witness to the gospel in daily life through ‘Patient endurance, imitating the ‘goodness of the Lord,’ and the example of the Lord himself.”  (166-7)

The early church did not speak of the Christian way in terms of ease and comfort, of low demands or no demands, but as a rigorous and demanding contest.” (167)

“That God divulges himself as God precisely in lowliness,’ concludes Eduard Schweizer, ‘means that his community must differentiate itself from the world by its willingness to take on lowliness.’” (198, this is Edward’s translation from German of Schwiezer, Gemeinde und Gemeindeodnung.)

“The Apostolic Fathers admonished readers not to allow the name ‘Christian’ to become a substitute for Christian behavior… ‘We should not be known as Christians, but really be Christians.’” The last is a quote from Ignatius in a letter to Magnesia (Western Turkey). (232)

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Do you have faith or are you just a spectator?

Jeff Garrison  
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches  
Luke 8:40-56  
July 17, 2022

Sermon recorded at Mayberry on Friday, July 15, 2022

At the beginning of worship

The most important part of having a relationship with Jesus is the potential to restore life. 

  • Jesus provides us a reason to live. 
  • Jesus wants us to live abundantly. 
  • Jesus wants us to follow his lead and show compassion.

Restoring life isn’t just about eternal life, but a renewed life in the present, lived out within the church. This morning we’re looking at two stories where Jesus restores life. In one, he brings a child back from the dead. But the other is just as important. He restores life to an outcast. 

Of course, both will later die. That is part of the human experience. But imagine what these two did with their renewed life in the time they had left. Or think of the excitement of the parents of the little girl who died and the joy of the woman’s husband and family who had mom back. 

Jesus calls us to live knowing we are loved and cared for and watched over by God. We’re also to live this life within a church community who also watches over us. What does this mean for your life? 

Before reading the Scriptures

Last week we saw Jesus and the disciples on the West Bank of Galilee, where he dealt with the unclean. He was in a Gentile area, so the people themselves were seen as unclean. He healed a man who was seen as crazy and filled with demons, one who would have been shunned by Jews just as he was shunned by Gentiles. And he was in an area where they raised hogs, in large numbers, an animal according to Jewish law was unclean. 

Today, we see what happens when Jesus comes back to the East Bank. They must not have had bad weather on the return trip, or if they did, we’re not told. Now that he’s back in Jewish territory, do you think his run in with those unclean ends? Not a chance. Let’s see. 

Read Luke 8:40-56

Opening day 2007

Opening day of the college football season, 2007, featured the Appalachian State Mountaineers against one of the dominate teams throughout the history of college football, the Michigan Wolverines. Michigan was rated five in the national polls among the top colleges. Appalachian wasn’t even in the same division. 

At the time, I was in Hastings, Michigan. A few months before the game, my Uncle Larry called. I’ve always thought of Larry as an older brother. He’s a lot closer to my age than my dad’s, his brother. As a graduate of Appalachian State, Larry wanted to see this historic game. He was able to get tickets and planned to fly up, if I could provide a place for him to crash and drive him the 2 hours across the state to the Big House in Ann Arbor. 

Larry’s visit

He and his daughter, McKenzie, who was a couple of years older than Caroline, came up a day early. We toured some around West Michigan, but we made sure we got to bed early Friday night so we could get an early start on Saturday morning. Larry and McKenzie along with Caroline and I, got up early and after breakfast headed out across the state on Interstate 94. 

I could tell Larry was nervous. He kept returning to his hope that the game wouldn’t be a blow out. After all, Michigan was in a completely different division. They might have well been playing against an NFL team. In a sense Appalachian was offered as sacrificial meat to one the top programs in college football for their opening day triumph.

We arrived in Ann Arbor a little after 9 AM, for a game that didn’t start till 1. It was good to be early. Once we got off the exit, it took another hour of bumper-to-bumper traffic to park. It takes time to get 107,000 people into the stadium. After parking, we enjoyed the pregame, going to a tailgate party for Appalachian State alumni. A little after noon, we moved toward the Big House and found our seats. 

The Game

The game began. But it didn’t begin as expected as both teams quickly put points on the board. The Mountaineers dominated the second quarter, racking up 21 points and leading at half by 14. In the second half, Michigan slowly crawled back. With four seconds left in the game, they had the ball. They were on the Mountaineers ten- or twenty-yard line. They were down by just two points. All they needed was a field goal, a simple chip shot, and it would be over. 

The Mountaineers blocked the kick. The game was over. 

Driving back across Michigan, my uncle floated somewhere above the vehicle. He couldn’t believe it. Was Larry a spectator without faith? 

Of course, football is just a game. 

Do we have faith or are we just a spectator? 

When it comes to Jesus, let me ask this question. Do we have faith? Or are we just spectators? Think of our story this morning. We have two examples of faith: a concerned father and a sick woman. Both experienced an incredible miracle, while most people present in the crowd are just spectators.[1]

Our story picks up where we left off last week. Jesus and the disciples had just sailed back across Lake Galilee. A crowd waits for Jesus on the east bank. Jesus’ popularity has risen, everyone wants to see him. But how many of these fans of his really know what’s up about him? They’ve probably not yet heard the news of the demons and the pigs or the calming of the sea. And what’s happening next will blow their minds. 

Jesus is God

In the previous weeks, we’ve seen Jesus as God: forgiving sins, controlling the weather, and freeing someone from evil. Now, Jesus not only heals; he restores life. 

As Jesus comes ashore, he’s met by Jairus, leader of a synagogue, a man of standing within the Jewish community. Jairus is desperate for his daughter is dying. He pleads for Jesus come to come and heal his daughter. Jesus agrees and they head off. They must push through the crowd to make their way forward. Everyone wants to see Jesus, and most probably have no idea that he’s on a life-saving mission. After all, in the first century, there were no ambulances and sirens and flashing lights to clear a path. 

Interlude

Then, Luke takes the story another direction. As a literary device, it’s a clever interruption. There is a girl in need, but Jesus must first attend to something else. This helps built tension in our minds. We’re all with Jesus and Jairus and ready to run to his house. But Jesus pauses. 

Someone has touched his garments. Jesus wants to know who. Peter realizes the impossibility of such a question. Many people are pressing in on Jesus. Everyone is touching him. You can’t help it. Think about being on a Japanese subway if you ever experienced such travel at rush hour. If not, you’ve probably seen pictures of those stationed on the platform to push passengers into the railcars so the door can close. Everyone has been touching Jesus and now he wants to know who. He acknowledges that power had left him. 

Female issues

We’re told a woman, who wasn’t trying to hold up Jesus and in his important mission, had sought to touch him so that she might be healed. And that’s what happened. After twelve years, she’s well. She was suffering from what my mother used to call “female issues.” If a woman from church was in the hospital and we asked why and mom said, “female issues,” we knew not to ask any more questions.[2]

The problem for her is that such bleeding has gone on a dozen years. This also meant she was unclean. The Old Testament laws said so.[3] She wasn’t even supposed to be in the crowd. But now we learn that she has been made well. And when she identifies herself, Jesus pronounces such when he tenderly calls her “daughter,” and tells her it was her faith that made her well. It was her faith that led her to seek out Jesus. Healed and now able to be accepted back into society, Jesus sends her on her way in peace.

Now back to Jairus’ daughte

Way to go, Jesus. That’s a nice interlude. Good ministry. However, while dealing with the woman, Jairus’ daughter dies. Messengers arrive and inform Jairus it’s too late, not to bother Jesus anymore. From our experience, death is final. People don’t just pop up from the casket and ask if they can be first in line for the ham and funeral potatoes with a serving of Jell-O salad and a slice of Aunt Delilah’s coconut cake.

A corpse is unclean

Jesus, however, assures Jairus that if he trusts in God and doesn’t sink into despair, everything will be alright.[4] So, they continue to the house, where their lies and corpse that had been a 12-year-old girl. Like the bleeding woman, a corpse is also considered unclean.[5] But this doesn’t bother Jesus, who takes three of his closest disciples and goes into the room where the girl lays dead. He sends out the mourners. After all, they think he’s nuts. Then he addresses the girl. We’re told her spirit returned. 

Now back to Jairus’ daughter

God gives us life. Every breath we take is from God. The girl, like Adam in the garden, comes to life once the spirit, the breath from God, enters her.[6] God gives life. 

Realizing she’s been through trauma, Jesus has food brought to her and then, surprisingly, tells her parents not to tell anyone what happened. 

Role of Faith

Jesus acknowledges that the woman’s faith has made her well. For it was her faith that caused her to seek out Jesus, the great healer. He also told the father to have faith, and everything would work out. However, Jesus’ role is undoubtedly necessary here, for it wasn’t faith alone that generated these events. As one commentator noted, faith doesn’t generate these events, but healing does proceed from faith.[7]  

Perhaps we could best look at it this way. We’re to have faith, not in that healing will occur, but faith that we are loved and cared for by the Almighty in an intimate way, as shown by Jesus in today’s story. And Jesus’ example of caring for us, is to be our model, as we strive to care for a world that is often dead. We’re called to have faith because we know God is at work despite the evidence to the contrary.

We’re not to be spectators

We’re not called to be a spectator. Life is not a football game. We’re called to participate with Jesus in this world, by showing the concern he showed with others. Let us love as Jesus loved. Amen. 

[1]Fred Craddock, Luke: Interpretation, a Biblical Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1990), 120. 

[2] I was reminded of this reading Scott Hoezee’s commentary on the parallel to this passage in Mark 5:29-43. See https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2021-06-21/mark-521-43-3/  

[3] Leviticus 15:19, 25.

[4] James Edwards, The Gospel of Luke (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2015), 257.

[5] Leviticus 22:4, Numbers 5:2. 

[6] Genesis 2:7.

[7] Craddock, 120. 

Today’s morning glory (taken at 6 AM)
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Riding on the City of New Orleans

Over New Years Eve and early January 2005, I took a group of college students from First Presbyterian Church of Hastings, Michigan to New Orleans. We helped with the relief work after Katrina. The amount of damage from that hurricane still haunts me. This is a piece I pulled up from the past, that tells of our ride back to Michigan. Most of us took the train. Two other adults flew down and rented a large van for us to travel around. We stayed at St. Charles Avenue Presbyterian Church, which had survived the storm in relatively good shape. Through Project Rhino and the Presbyterian Disaster Assistance, we had a foreman who drove a truck and pulled a tool trailer that had all the equipment we needed as we mucked out houses and stripped them of furniture, drywall and old insulation. After they dried out, another crew would come back and treat the studs for mold and then another group would drywall the homes and prepare them to again be habitable.

Also, 2005 was before I had a camera in my phone. I was still shooting film for the few shots I took. Sadly, I didn’t take any shots of Bo or his barbecue joint.

Everything ruined!

About ten minutes out of Greenwood, Mississippi, I finally have a cell signal. I call Bo’s Barbecue Bar and Grill and order half a dozen barbecue pork sandwiches and ribs. I’m not sure what to expect. I met Bo on the trip down. It was early in the morning and I was out on the platform taking a walk in the warm Southern air, while Amtrak s changed the crew. There, I met an old black man who talked about his barbecue joint and gave me his card in case I wanted something to eat on the way north. 

A week later, I’m back on the train, heading north. We’re running late and are told the stop will be as quick as possible to make up some time. When the train stops, I run to Bo’s bar. It’s a dive. A half a dozen patrons are drinking beer. 

“Hey Amtrak,” one calls, “you’re going to Chicago, why the ‘Stiller cap? (I’m wearing a Pittsburgh Steeler cap). 

One night we went down to the French Quarter. I’m wearing my “Stiller” hat

I’m the only white boy in the place. Bo calls me back to the kitchen. He takes each rib, dips it in sauce, places a couple between white bread, wraps them in foil and places them in a bag. I grab the order, toss him some money, and run back to my car. I step back on the train as the whistle blows. We resume our northward journey. The ribs are heavenly and a big hit with everyone. It’s been a long time since that Shrimp Po Boy I had at lunch at Crabby Jacks.

Our eyes were opened on our last day in Na’Arlens. After five hard days of work, mucking out homes and pulling down drywall and hauling unsalvageable stuff (which was most everything) to the street, we have a tour of the worst of the city. We’re taken down into the ninth ward, to the place where the levee broke allowing a barge to sail into the neighborhood. They’re still searching houses for bodies here and nothing we’ve seen can compare to the destruction. It looks more like what I’ve seen on the news of the Asian tsunami. Washed from their foundations and broken into splinters, these homes are demolished. There’s nothing to be saved. We also go and look at the break off the 17th Street Canal. The destruction is great, but not nearly as bad as the ninth ward. Some neighborhoods are recovering rapidly, others will take years if they ever rebuild.

I wake up overnight in Memphis early, it’ll be a longer break. The engine takes on fuel. It’s cold, but the fresh air is invigorating. I step out of the car, walk up and down the tracks for a few minutes before heading back to my seat. Most people are asleep.  A few are reading. One lady, her head back with her mouth gaped open, sleep soundly. Wickedly, I think I should take a picture. She appears attractive, but not in her sleep. After a few minutes of reading Stephen King, On Writing, I turn out my light, fluff my pillow up and place it against the window, falling asleep to the rock of the train.

Next think I know, it’s 5:20 AM. We’re in Mattoon, Illinois. On the platform, a group of eight young Amish women wait to board. They’re just outside my window and from the second deck of the Superliner, I’m looking down on them. They appear as a flock of ducks, turning their heads back and forth in unison, looking up and down the track, as if they’re a little uneasy about the journey they’re embarking upon. I fall back asleep. At 6 AM, I get up, go downstairs to the bathrooms, and wash up before heading to the lounge where coffee is available as well as a plug to charge my computer.

As light begins to come upon the land at dawn, the scenery has changed from when the sun went down yesterday evening. The blue skies, cypress swamps and pine hills are replaced with grayness. The sky is gray, the bare trees are gray, when we go through towns, buildings are gray as well as the crumbled remains of factories. The spaces between towns are filled with bare fields that in another five months will showcase corn and soybeans. It’s over one of these fields that the sun finally breaks through, just above the horizon, burning off the morning fog. For a few minutes, the sky assumes a pinkish hue, only to quickly return to the gray as the sun continues its march across the southern horizon. Railroads merge in and out. We’re nearing Chicago. Someone spots the Sears tower and we soon complete the first leg of our journey. Just three more hours on a train and we’ll be back in Michigan. Tonight, I’ll sleep in my own bed. 

The work group