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From Demon Possessed to Gentile Evangelist

Jeff Garrison   
 Mayberry and Bluemont Presbyterian Churches   
July 11, 2022   
Luke 8:26-39

Sermon recorded at Bluemont on Friday, July 8, 2022

At the beginning of worship:

Why would you invite someone to church? I hope it isn’t to see or hear me talk, although I would enjoy meeting your friend. But that’s not why we should invite someone to church. We invite them because we care. 

When you get down to it, the only valid reason to invite people to worship with us (or to a meal or a Bible study) is that we want them to experience Jesus. The church is God’s vehicle to share God’s mission. Whether inside a building or outside under a maple tree, God uses the church, along with the workings of the Holy Spirit, to bring people into a relationship with Jesus Christ. I hope you want to see people encounter and get excited about Jesus, because that’s what we’re to be about. 

That said, when Jesus encounters someone, he sends them back into the world, to do his work, as we’re going to see today. As someone said many years ago, evangelism is one beggar giving another beggar a morsel of bread. Yep, we’re all beggars here. And we depend on the bread of life, on Jesus Christ, our Lord. 

Before the reading of Scripture:

Last week we heard about Jesus and the disciples in a boat sailing across a stormy Lake Galilee. We were left hanging with a question. Who’s this dude named Jesus? Today, we learn what happens when they reach the other side. We also get an answer to that hanging question. 

Read Luke 8:26-39

A Western set on the other side of Galilee: Is that why it’s called the West Bank?

This story sounds a lot like a good Western movie.

In a the classic western, a community is in trouble. Some force threatens their ability to settle and civilize the land. When things become desperate, an outsider rides in. He has compassion for the community and helps them out of a situation. But he doesn’t fit into the community and when things are settled, rides off into the sunset. 

Two films to consider in this genre. One is the 1953 classic Shane. The movie ends with Alan Ladd riding off after getting the bad guys as Joey, a boy he befriended, pleads, “Shane, come back.” The other is Pale Rider, released in 1985. It starred Clint Eastwood. The filming of the movie took place just outside of Camp Sawtooth, in Idaho, which I directed for a few summers shortly after it was filmed. With Pale Rider, it’s a young woman calling out her love for Eastwood’s character, “Preacher” as he rides off in the distance. In both cases, the outsider came and helped, but didn’t stick around.[1]  

Jesus asked not to stick around

Likewise, Jesus came and helped this community, and he doesn’t stick around. They don’t want him to stay. They fear his power and ask him to leave. Earlier in Luke’s gospel, Jesus tells his hometown synagogue that a prophet isn’t appreciated in their hometown.[2] Now, we see his lack of acceptance extending to the gentile world.  How did Jesus get here?

The answer to the question asked in the boat

Last week we focused on the storm that struck Jesus and the disciples’ boat as they sailed across Galilee. The disciples are stunned when Jesus spoke, and the wind and waves obeyed. “Who is this guy?” they ask.

Now, as they come across on the other side of the lake, they meet a man who appears not to be normal. That’s an understatement. He gave up wearing clothes and lives within the tombs. He has brute strength. Chains can’t hold him. Mark provides a few more details, such as people hear him roaming the hills and howling. He also harms himself with stones.[3]Obviously, he has problems. 

He meets Jesus and the disciples by the water and immediately falls to his knees and shouts, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High.” I find it interesting that aboard the boat, when the disciples asks themselves about Jesus, no one has a clue as to Jesus’ true identity. But now we have a demon confessing Jesus to be Lord, to be divine. “Even the demons believe,” the book of James tells us, “And [they] shudder.”[4]

The crazy man asks one thing, Jesus provides another

The man begs Jesus not to torment him and to leave him along. Now, Jesus could have done this, and everything would have been okay. After all, that’s what the man asks, but Jesus has compassion and knows it’s not the man speaking. Instead of ignoring him, as requested, Jesus provides what he needs. 

We don’t always get what we want. That’s good. Jesus offers a little tough love here. Sometimes the kind thing to do is not to give people what they say they want but what they need. 

Legions in the land

Jesus asks the man for his name and is told “Legion.” Luke tells us this is because many demons had entered the man. He was no longer in control. 

There are some interesting things about this name. Legion is a large unit within the Roman army. It would be equivalent to a division today, with a legion containing around 5600 men. Romans kept a Legion of men on this side of Galilee to have them readily available when the Jews revolted (something they did from time to time). It was easier to keep the bulk of their troops out of sight unless needed. Then, all they had to do was to march around the lake and assist the smaller local garrison reestablish control. 

We also know the Jews looked for a military Messiah to chase the Roman legions back to Italy and free Israel. Here, in the land were the Roman legion mustered, we see Jesus ridding a Legion, but one different from their imagination.[5]

The demons request

These demons are nervous as they know Jesus has the power to send them back into the abyss, which is what we see happening in the book of Revelation.[6] Ironically, Jesus not only shows compassion to the man, but to the demons. He allows their wish to be sent into a herd of pigs instead of being locked in a dreadful pit. They leave the man and enter the pigs, who run wild and off a cliff and into the water below. 

Evil destroys

There are a couple of things we should understand from this bizarre event. First, evil brings destruction. The demons attempted to destroy the man. As Mark tells us, he beat himself with stones.[7] Once the demons enter the pigs, they run into their own demise, drowning in the sea. 

The second thing is that there is a cost to the community for healing to occur.[8] Here, the cost was a herd of pigs. As the cliché goes (and is well known by those in the military), “freedom isn’t free. Someone pays the price.”

The land of the unkosher 

For Jews, being with an unclean man was against one’s faith. It wasn’t kosher. But neither are pigs. Jesus’ ministry here is unlike anything we’d seen from him in Jewish lands. It prefigures the church’s work with the Gentiles, which Jesus had already foretold when he spoke in his home synagogue. However, the Gentile mission is still in the future. 

The man as a disciple

Luke provides an interesting picture of Jesus and the man after the event just described. The man is in his right mind and sits at the feet of Jesus—a perfect picture of a faithful disciple. Perhaps because this man is a gentile, and Jesus is going back to finish up his Jewish ministry, Jesus refuses to allow the man to travel with him.[9] Instead, he sends him home to tell of what God has done. 

This is good advice to us, too. If we’ve experienced God’s grace, we need to share our experience with others. Like the man, we’re called to be a disciple, but we carry out our work apart from the physical presence of Jesus.

The fear of the people

The people, however, are afraid of Jesus and ask him to leave. It’s as if they could handle the crazy man, but they can’t handle someone with the power to set the crazy one right.[10]  

Clues to Jesus’ divinity

A few weeks ago, we saw Jesus, like God, had the power to forgive sins.[11] Then, last week, we saw that Jesus had power, like God, over nature.[12] Now we see that Jesus also has power over even human nature. Without coming out and saying it, Luke drives home this point: Jesus does the work of God and is God. 

And here, Luke reminds us that God’s mission isn’t just for the Jews, those like Jesus. While still off in the future, the mission to the gentiles will drive the church around the globe. 

Our invitation to proclaim what God has done

The invitation is for everyone hurting to come and encounter Jesus’ grace. There is forgiveness; there is his presence in the storms of life; there is hope even for the hopeless. We just don’t need to be afraid. Instead, like the man freed from his bondage to demons, we’re the ones who should proclaim how much God has done for us. Amen. 

[1] I’m indebted to John Wiley Nelson’s book, Your God is Alive and Well and Appearing in Popular Culture (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1976) for insight into the Western genre. Nelson would probably classify Pale Rider as an anti-Western, a subgenre of the Western motif.  

[2] Luke 4:24.

[3] Mark 5:1-5.

[4] James 2:19, NIV.

[5] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Luke (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 2015), 250. 

[6] Revelation 9:1-2, 11; 20:1-3.

[7] Mark 5:5.

[8] Fred B. Craddock, Luke: Interpretation, A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1990), 117. 

[9] Edwards, 251. 

[10] For good insight on fear in this passage see Scott Hoezee’s commentary on the text: https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2019-06-17/luke-826-39-2/

[11] https://fromarockyhillside.com/2022/06/all-are-in-need-of-forgiveness-the-seemingly-righteous-and-the-obvious-sinner/  

[12] https://fromarockyhillside.com/2022/07/let-jesus-calm-our-hearts/  

This groundhog spared demon possession, unlike his larger cousins
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Four days and three nights in the Dry Tortugas

Dad, my sister Sharon, and me

Part of this was posted in a previous blog that is no longer available. I added more information to include the entire trip and am reposting it. In late April 2018, my father, sister, and I made this trip to the Dry Tortugas, which sit 68 miles west of Key West. There are no services on the island and it’s primitive camping. We brought kayaks with us along with everything we needed (including water). Thankfully, as a ferry makes it way to the islands every day, we could buy ice at an inflated price. We could also buy ice cream aboard the ferry!

Most of us camping on Garden Key stand together on the beach watching the light fade from the western sky. The skies are clear and the water surrounding the Key and Fort Jefferson ripple from the southerly wind. There’s a group of four women from South Florida along with several bird watchers from around the country. Soon a star appears in the southwest, Sirius, the Dog Star as well as Venus just above the horizon in the West. A few minutes later, the sky is darker. Rigel and Betelgeuse, the red star in Orion, are visible. “There’s Orion, setting early after having been up high all winter,” I say as I point out the stars. Soon we can make out the stars in Orion’s belt. In the spring, it appears as if the hunter is falling face-first out of the sky. In a few minutes, all the stars of Orion and his faithful dog, Canis Major, are clearly visible as is as well as the charioteer, Auriga, the V in Taurus the Bull, as well as the Seven Sisters, who according to mythology look out for travelers.  

Moored sailboats and the setting sun

We’re all travelers, enjoying a few days 70 miles from civilization. There are no signals on our cell phones and no way, unless someone brought a satellite hookup, to connect to the internet. I look back over my head to the northeast, I see the Big Dipper climbing higher in the sky. From it, I can easily find the North Star, low on the northern horizon, just above the ramparts of the fort. I point it out to the group.

How you know so much about the stars and night skies, one of the women from Miami asks. 

“I don’t know,” I say, “I just like spending time outdoors, especially at night.”  

My father checking out the terns (or was it the other way around?)

Slowly people drift back to their tents. It’s been a tiring day as my sister, father and I had gotten up at 4:30 AM, in order to have our gear and kayaks by the ferry at 6 AM for the run from Key West to the Tortugas. Then there was setting up camp for our three nights on the island, followed by a cooling snorkel around the outside of the fort’s moot. By then, it was time for dinner and then we went out for an evening paddle. We’d taken our kayaks out by Bush Key, where tens of thousands of Snooty Terns nest. The key now connected to Garden Key, but the park service has it closed off so as not to disturb the birds, which seem never to nest but mostly to fly around the key and out over the water, constantly chirping with one another. On Long Key, frigates nest. These large birds are as graceful as any navy frigate and the males, who puff up a red pouch under their head to attract females can strut better than any sailor on shore leave.  

I crawl into my bivy tent. The wind is blowing hard and the tarp, which we erected to protect us from the tropic sun, flaps constantly.  I am soon asleep.

Bush and Long Key from the walls of Fort Jefferson

I arise at 6:30.  The eastern sky is bright red.  My sister has already started the charcoal in my stove and boiled water for her tea.  I put coffee and water in my camping percolator and in a few minutes can see the water turn into dark black coffee.  When Dad gets up, we have breakfast. I’ve brought oatmeal. My sister has boiled eggs and precooked bacon and grits. We cut up some fruit and split it between us.

Our plan is to paddle to Loggerhead Key, which is located three miles to the west of Garden Key, the location of a long standing lighthouse (that went dark in 2014 and is no longer in use).  We pack lunches and snorkel gear. I have a marine radio, but the rangers insist we take at least one more and loan my sister one. Although the tide doesn’t vary much here (just a foot to eighteen inches) it does create a flow that runs the channel between the two keys, so we are warned to watch for currents. Unless a fog rolls in, which doesn’t seem likely in this weather, we’ll not have any problem as long as we stay focused on the Loggerhead lighthouse which rises 150 feet above the small strip of land.  The wind is still strong and coming out of the south, which requires us to paddle harder than normal.

About a quarter way to the island, my sister complains of her hands hurting and decides to go back to Garden Key. We were told that on a calm day it’d take an hour to paddle to the island and generally two hours to paddle back.  My dad and I keep paddling. It takes us almost an hour to paddle the three miles to Loggerhead, but that’s with a strong wind coming in at an angle, creating some swell. 

We arrive at Loggerhead Key at the same time as two guys on a dingy from their sailboat to the island. Like me, they have come to snorkel. Soon, we run into the lighthouse keeper. He has volunteered to stay on the island and watch over those who visit for a month. The park service provides him a home with electricity (they have huge panels of solar cells).  He checks in with visitors (he provided us with tips on where to snorkel), and operates a water desalination system that provides water to rangers in the Tortugas. He’s responsible for his own food.  

We walk across the island and snorkel on the west side. He points out some places to check out. We are blessed with seeing huge growths of brain coral along with large aquatic plants. I love the huge purple sea fans that half my size. I see plenty of fish: angelfish, butterflyfish, a variety of snapper and grouper, the seemingly ubiquitous “Sergeant Majors”, and several large barracuda. Hiding inside hollow parts of the coral are long-spined sea urchin.  After an hour and a half of snorkeling (my dad gave it up much earlier), I join him on the beach for lunch (Vienna sausage, cheese and crackers, a pear, and plenty of water).  After lunch, I go back out and snorkel for another 40 minutes or so, before packing up and heading across the island to our kayaks.  

Snorkeling off Loggerhead Key
Selfie, paddling back

We leave at 1 PM.  The wind has calmed, and the paddle back is easy. We don’t rush. It only takes us a little over an hour and fifteen minutes, well less than the two hours we were told to expect.  We make it back in time to buy some ice and ice cream on the ferry (it leaves at 2:45 PM).  After resting, I join my sister with snorkeling around the fort.  The wind dies and the squawk of terns replace the sound of the flapping tarp. We enjoy steak for dinner. We froze the steaks and let them thaw in the cooler. We also have steamed cauliflower I’d brought from my garden. I am sure I’m the only person on this key eating homegrown cauliflower. 

I spend some time in the late afternoon and evening inside the fort, finding a shady spot, where I read and journal. It’s been a long day and shortly after sunset, I’m in bed. There is no wind and it’s warm. I lay on top of my sleeping bag and fall asleep.  

Campsite from the walls of the fort

Nature calls at 5 AM, and I crawl out of my tent to take care of business. The ground is soaked with a heavy dew. As I look up at the morning stars. The summer constellations are out and they are not generally this bright, but without any artificial light, the sky is brilliant. I easily spot Scorpius. It’s much higher above the southern horizon than I am accustomed to seeing it. At higher latitude, the constellation is only partly seen above the southern horizon. This morning, its pinchers are reaching out as if to grab Jupiter. To the left of the scorpion is the winged-horse archer, Sagittarius. Its arrow drawn and aimed at the deadly cosmic insect. Mars and Saturn appear to be resting on its wings. I’m treated to three planets in close proximity. There is no wind, but there is no silence either. I don’t think any of the terns on Bush Key slept last night. I crawl back into my tent and snooze for another hour.

Sharon Snorkeling

On the second full day on the island, we spend time snorkeling and paddle around the three keys. On this trip, I spot several turtles from where the islands get their name (Tortugas is turtle in Spanish). The dry part of the name was added to charts to indicate to seafarers the lack of fresh water on the islands. 

We also see a wreck sailboat that broke apart between Bush and Long Key. I later learned from a ranger that the owner of the boat had decided not to ride out a hurricane in Key West and tried to sail it single handed to the protected waters of the Tortugas. Because of the approach of the storm, the rangers had been evacuated, but there were several fishing boats moored in the natural harbor south of the fort. They saw him coming in, trying to make a channel between the keys, which had filled in. Sadly, the sailor had an old chart. He lost everything and one of the fishing crews rescued him, saving his life.

Fish fry

On the way back, Sharon and I snorkel offshore, looking for an old shipwreck. We don’t find it, but do see some nursing sharks, of which the island is famous. We also trade for some fish with a commercial fishing operator who is cleaning his fish just offshore.  That evening, we have fresh fish, enough that we share with others camping on the island.

On our last full day on the island, we do more snorkeling. I also spend several hours going through Fort Jefferson. Building the fort began in 1835. Its purpose was to support a Southern fleet protecting the ports of Mobile and New Orleans. During the Civil War, the north quickly garrisoned soldiers on the island keeping it from falling into Southern hands. Up until this time, those on the key were construction workers including many slaves. Work continued on the fort, as they brought in bricks from New England. The lower part of the fort had bricks from Florida, which are a pale orange color. The top bricks are redder. 

Also During the Civil War, the army added canons, which were never fired. The fort’s main use was as a prison. The fort was built upon a series of cisterns in which rain was collected. This was to allow the fort to withstand a siege (they also could grow vegetables inside the walls of the fort). However, the weight of the bricks cracked the walls of the cisterns. Only three cisterns could be used as salt water infiltrated the rest. Another design flaw was the moot. Like other similar forts (such as Fort Pulaski near Savannah), the sewage dumped into the moot and flushed during high tide. However, the closer one gets to the equator, the less tidal difference one has, so the sewage just sat and never completely washed out, creating a terrible stench (thankfully, the National Park Service no longer uses the moot to handle sewage). The last design flaw were the bricks that made up the fort. While these forts proved strong against round cannonballs, the introduction of rifled canons just before the Civil War made the fort less safe. Construction halted in 1875. The fort was never completed. 

Fort view from waterline

But the fort didn’t stay abandoned long. Before the Century was out, the navy maintained a coaling station on the island. They also operated a large desalination plant for fresh water for navy ships and personnel on the island. However, this was short lived as the navy abandoned its coal burning ships for oil burners. 

In the afternoon a three-some of peregrine falcons show up, perched on the fort’s ramparts. Obviously, there is one too many and there seems to be some kind of courting ritual going on. Their presence, however, affects the behavior of other birds around us. When they take to the air, the birds around our campsite hang close to the ground, even flying under the picnic table where I sit. I suppose we are of less threat to them than to be attacked in mid-flight by a hungry falcon.

Ferry from Key West

Out last day was busy as we had to have everything back at the ship by 10:30 AM, so that they could load everything. Thankfully, the ferry also had freshwater showers which allowed us to clean up before the trip back to Key West. We had four beautiful sunny days on the island.  

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Let Jesus Calm Our Hearts

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
July 3, 2022
Luke 8:22-25

Sermon taped at Mayberry Church on Friday, July 1, 2022. Remember, during the summer, weather permitting, both churches will be worshipping outside.

At the beginning of worship:

I’m afraid the church, as an institution, along with our world, is heading for stormy waters. Some who claim to be a part of the church are doing outrageous things. From Christian nationalism to the extreme, a pastor in Texas preaching for the execution of gays. So much for love and grace and forgiveness and other Christ-like virtues. “Shoot them in the back of the head,” he suggested.[1] I don’t want to be a part of an organization like that, and hopefully neither do you.

Sadly, one outlier like him tends to taint all of us who strive to follow Jesus (not that I think he was following Jesus, but that’s another topic). Such renegades provide those outside the church with a reason to stay outside. In this series of sermons, I want to consider how to invite people into the church. We have work to do, to overcome such behavior which creates a negative view of the Church. 

The challenge to today’s church

The amount of hate spewed toward the church and Christianity seems to be on the rise. When those outside the Church lump us all together, they miss the concept of the church as a place of love, acceptance, and grace. The church consists of people like us, who admit our sinfulness, and depend on the grace offered by Jesus Christ. Without his grace, we’d all be sailing into a storm without a rudder.

Being Christians

“We should not simply be known as Christians,” Ignatius told the church in the second century, “but really be Christians.”[2] That advice still holds true for today.

In this stormy time in which the world seems to be headed, we need to do a better job of conveying the love and grace of Jesus. We must show the world we care and accept one another with open arms. As we’re all in the same boat, we illustrate our trust in Jesus. We need to be good neighbors while modelling compassion and love. We don’t know how things will turn out, but we have faith that God is amongst us and in the end, everything will work out. But sometimes, when we are in the middle of a storm, it’s easy to lose sight of this, as we’re going to see in our Scripture for today. 

Read Luke 8:22-25

The Savannah Sail Club often held late Wednesday afternoon regattas during the longer days of summer. A group of us from the Landings Sail Club would often sail with them. These were fun times. However, because of thunderstorms, such events were frequently cancelled. 

Sailing in a Gal

Then there was this time. The day had been hot, and the wind squirrelly. The weather forecast suggested the storms popping up inland and moving north. This was often the case for the sea breeze would come in during the afternoon. The cool wind from over the ocean blows across the hot land, which generally kept the storms inland. 

We were sailing out of the Skidaway River, on the second leg of the race, making for the marker at the Wilmington River where we were to head toward Wassaw Sound, before rounding a buoy and returning to the Savannah Yacht Marina on Wilmington Island. That’s when we realized the sea breeze wasn’t as strong as we thought as a storm moved quickly over us. We were hit with 45 mile an hour straight line winds, and it was all we could do to keep the boat upright. 

Crewing on a Rhodes 19

I was part of a three-person crew on a Rhodes 19, a small racing dingy. All three of us climbed up on the high side of the boat, trying to balance it out. I controlled the jib sheets, letting the foresail out to spill wind. Chris took control of the main sheets from Ken and did the same. Ken, who was at the helm, pulled hard on the rudder to bring us into the wind, but it wasn’t much use. A boat heeled over that far means only a small part of the rudder is in the water. We struggled, as a torrent of rain accompanied the winds. 

Right next to us, also heeled over, was a much larger boat with a mast a good 10 taller than ours. That boat was named “Lightning Rod.” It seemed a bad omen as lightning bolts began to pop around us. With the wind, the beating rain, lighting bolts instantly followed by the clamp of thunder, I thought we might perish. Sadly, we didn’t have Jesus physically on board to wake up and still the storm, but I can assure you, prayers were offered. 

Prayers answered

Our prayers were answered and in a few minutes the wind died. The water that had been foaming became like glass. There was no wind, and the tide was running against us. We lost all headway, as the boat moved backwards. 

It’s terrifying to be on a small boat in a gale. Thankfully, in the storm I described, the terrifying part only lasted maybe ten minutes, then there was bailing and checking gear to make sure nothing broke during the gale. 

Sailing on mountain lakes

Sailing on mountain lakes, like Galilee, can even be more terrifying. The wind funnels down the mountain through ravines and pours out onto the water like the exhaust from a turbine. The interaction between the warm waters and the cool air from the hills creates unpredictable weather. Such a situation is challenging, even for seasoned sailors like half of the disciples who fished for a living. 

Gillian’s Island Interlude

We could open this passage with the Legend of Gilligan’s Island:

Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale
a tale of a fateful trip,
that started from this tropic port,
aboard this tiny ship.[3]

The area around Galilee was tropical. Located below sea level, the climate was moderate enough that crops could be grown most of the year. And the lake is only nine miles long, seven miles wide, so the disciples and Jesus aren’t planning to be gone too long. They push off from one side of the lake, expecting to arrive on the other in a few hours at the most. Just like with Gilligan, this should be no more than a three-hour cruise. 

Jesus, who may be weary from teaching and preaching, decides to take a nap. He’ll let those seasoned boaters take him across the waters. Then the storm hits. 

Sleeping through the storm

And Jesus sleeps soundly in the stern of the boat.

I’m sure Jesus sleeping irritated the disciples; after all, he suggested they all sail to the other side. And as they work to bail out the water, Jesus snores. 

It appears they wake Jesus, not because they think he can help, but because they want him to know that they’re all doomed. Interestingly, Jesus gets up and rebukes the wind and the waves. Rebuke implies dealing with evil, and perhaps the storm was another of Satan’s attempts to do away with Jesus.[4] But Jesus’ words contain power. 

Two questions

The storm dies and the boat floats on calm water, no longer in danger of capsizing. Then Jesus turns to the disciples and asks, “Where is your faith?” How do they answer such a question?  We’re not told they did; instead, they ponder “just who is this guy that commands the wind and the sea, and they obey.” 

While Jesus’ question reminds the disciples that they, like us, need to trust him, I think the disciples ask a more interesting question. “Who is Jesus?” It’s essentially the same question we saw asked a few weeks ago when Jesus forgave the sinful woman. Those at the table asked, “Who is this that can forgive sin?”[5] Neither question is answered. As James Edwards summarizes in his commentary on this text: “The right questions lead not to pat and ready answers, but to awe and wonder in the presence of Jesus.”[6]

The Edmund Fitzgerald

The ballad, “the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” has a haunting question. “Does anyone know where the love of God goes when the waves turn the minutes into hours. The disciples didn’t realize at this point in their ministry with Jesus that God was with them, in the stern. 

What does faith mean at times like this

What does it mean to have faith during a storm? Does it mean that everything will be okay? Or are we left with the assurance that we are in God’s hands? And we can trust that no matter what happens, God is with us?

The Troubles of the world

It appears the church, our nation, and our world is sailing into stormy waters. The war in Ukraine causes untold amounts of devastation to that country while threatening the world’s food supply. In places like Ethiopia, you have war and famine. Religious unrest seems always to be simmering somewhere in the world, most lately in India and Sri Lanka. We seem to encounter one disease after another, from COVID variants to Monkeypox to the deadly Ebola virus which keeps popping up in sub-Sahara Africa. The distrust between the political parties in our own country, in which both seem more interested in their own power than the good of the whole, destroys the ability of working together. 

Who do we trust?

As the storm clouds darken, who do we trust? That’s a question we all may be asking. And if not, we will be asking it. Do we look for a savior among politicians and diplomats and business leaders? Or do we look to the only Savior the world has known?

Back in the 90s, when people still used phone books, a group of churches in Cedar City, Utah, where I was pastor, created an ad that appeared on the back cover of Southern Utah University’s student and faculty directory. We got permission from the Jesus Film folks to use a still shot from that movie which depicted Jesus standing up in a boat during a gale and raising up his hands to calm the wind and sea. The caption read, “he calmed the sea, let him calm your hearts,” and then listed the churches who sponsored the ad. 

Jesus calmed the seas, let him calm your hearts. I think that’s still good advice for today’s world. Amen. 

[1] https://www.newsweek.com/pastor-gay-people-solution-killings-bible-1714037

[2] James R. Edwards, From Christ to Christianity: How the Jesus Movement Became the Church in Less than a Century (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2021), 232. Edwards quotes Ignatius’ To the Magnesians, 4.

[3] https://www.songlyrics.com/gilligan-s-island/gilligans-theme-song-lyrics/

[4] Fred B. Craddock, Luke: Interpretation, A Biblical Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1990), 114. 

[5][5] Luke 7:49.  See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2022/06/all-are-in-need-of-forgiveness-the-seemingly-righteous-and-the-obvious-sinner/  

[6] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Luke (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015), 247.

5:45 AM this morning
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The Ride of a Lifetime (in the cab of a steam engine)

First Presbyterian Church

In 2013, I visited Virginia City, Nevada. I had lived there in the 1980s, when I was a student pastor at First Presbyterian Church. Before my time there, a tourist railroad had been established and was reconstructing the famed Virginia and Truckee Railroad. The big news when I was there, was the train crossing the highway into Gold Hill. Since then, thanks to generous grants, the train now runs to the outskirts of Carson City. It is a crooked grade as the train climbs up the east flank of the Virginia Mountains. I wanted to ride this train and see what it was like in earlier days. But they had sold out of the tickets for the weekend I was to be in Virginia City. Telling this to a friend who at the time was also the bookkeeper for the railroad, she said she’d make a call and see what she could do.  When I got to town, she asked if I’d like to ride in the cab of the train. Of course, I would! It was the ride of a lifetime. I wrote this piece almost ten years ago and have polished it up a bit for posting here. 

Virginia City at sunrise from the Combination Mine shaft

I arrive at the V&T shops a little after 7 AM.  As they prepare the engine ready for the day’s run, I walk around the machine shop where the Virginia and Truckee has the capability of repairing and rebuilding old locomotives. Maintaining a steam locomotive requires a lot of work and a shop is a necessity as parts often have to be fashioned to replace those that have worn out. The complexity of a steam engine led to their demise as it is much easier to maintain diesel-electric locomotives. Today’s locomotives may be efficient and easier to maintain, but they lack the romance and the “life-like character” of a “breathing steam engine.”

Our run today is aboard a ninety-ton Baldwin locomotive built in 1914 for a logging operation. The locomotive features smaller wheels and a large boiler, which also made it a perfect engine to pull trains up a steep line that snakes around the Virginia Range as it climbs from the Carson River to Virginia City. In its “working life,” this locomotive hauled logs for the McCloud Logging Railroad which ran around Mt. Shasta in Northern California. Today, she hauls tourists to the Comstock Lode and has been trucked offsite (she is the largest locomotive capable of being trucked) for movie appearances. Some of the guys from the V&T ran her in the movie, “Water for Elephants,” and have a photo in the shop with Reese Witherspoon, one of the stars in the film. 

Backing down the mountain

At about 7:30, Tim, who serves as conductor and brakeman, tells me to hope aboard. He introduces me to the crew, Brian and Ed, and gives me some instructions such as watching my feet so that I don’t ruin my shoes or injure myself by being pinched by rotating the sheet metal flooring between the tender and the locomotive. While we wait for the signal, the iron horse hisses. A few times every minute, there’s a booming sound which I learn are the air pumps keeping a nice draft in the fire box. When we get the “all clear,” I find a comfortable place to stand and hold on as Brian, the engineer moves the throttle into position and releases the brakes. We’re off, pulling three empty passenger cars. Because there is no longer a working turntable, we’ll pull the cars down the grade with the tender in the lead. At Moundhouse (Carson Eastgate), where we’ll pick up passengers, we can drop the cars, move the engine to the front as in a normal train, and the pull the cars back up hill.   

Checking smoke

It’s cool in the morning, but it promises to be a warm day.  Because the grade steepness, the descent must be controlled. I watch Ed, the fireman, as he maintains the boiler, making sure there is enough steam for both movement and brakes.  Ed learned to fire a locomotive on a miniature (5 ton) steam trains in California. Brian jokes that he has the easy job and Ed agrees. Oil fires this locomotive. Coal would require shoveling, but the fireman is free of that task. However, watching the boiller requires constant vigilance, especially on a grade like the V&T which has a few places that you might be going down, only to find yourself heading uphill for a short stretch. Besides keeping enough steam so that Brian can operate the train, he must make sure the water level remains high enough to cover the plates within the boiler. On level ground, this is easy, but when the locomotive is pointed uphill, the water runs into the back of the boiler. When it goes over a hump and points downhill, the water moves to the front of the locomotive. The danger of this sloshing around is that the metal might be exposed to air and the fire without the water to cool it down. This would risk spraying those of us in the cab with steam and seriously damaging the boiler.

Brian, our engineer for the day, oversees the train itself. He’s a Virginia City native. He graduated from high school on the Comstock in 2000 and that summer went to work for the railroad. He’s been at it ever since. For years, he was seasonal and had to find other employment in the winter, but a few years ago, was hired on full time. In the winter, they make a few runs (last year’s Christmas run was infamous as the snow was heavy and it took them nearly three hours to make the run back up the mountain. Brian and Ed can do each other’s jobs and often switch back and forth. As the engineer, he’s in charge of the operation of the train, but must depend on the fireman to watch the boiler and to provide him the steam needed for a smooth operation. 

A few minutes later, Virginia City is out of sight as we cross the tunnel at the Divide and move toward Gold Hill. Down below us is the Crown Point Mine and Mill site. We cross the highway, by the old station. then the tracks turn south and cross earth fill that once traversed by the Crown Point trestle. They tore the trestle down in 1936. Today, it is widely believed that the trestle continues to live on the Nevada State Seal. However, this is a myth. The seal was designed in 1863 and predates the building of the trestle by five years.  Interestingly, there wasn’t even a train within the boundaries of the Nevada Territory when the seal was designed, so the trestle on the seal expressed a hopeful dream of the artist.      

After Gold Hill, the tracks make a long circle around American Flats.  There is a new mining operation with cyanide leach fields on the north side of the Flats.  Also along this section is a herd of horses.  Ed and Brian seem to know well as they have names for many of the wild animals.  At Scales siding, the halfway point, we stop, and Brain and Tim check the brakes. There is some smoke in one wheel and they are afraid it is overheating, but after checking it, all appears well. We loop around the south side of the Flats, above the old American Flats Mill, which operated up into the 30s. Then the tracks turn south, and we slip into a tunnel.  On the other side of the tunnel, we can see Moundhouse, the site of where the Virginia and Truckee and the Carson and Colorado Narrow Gauge used to connect. The train continues to hug the hillside. The tracks mostly follow the original route except through Moundhouse. Brain, the engineer, tells me that the original tracks went straight through Moundhouse and picked up the Carson River near where today are several brothels. Figuring the whorehouses shouldn’t be disturbed by trains, they relocate the tracks to the west of town. We cross over Highway 50 on a trestle and soon are at the station.  

Brain prepares engine for run back up the mountain

A full parking lot awaits us as people line up to ride a piece of history. We drop the passenger cars in front of the depot and uncouple the engine. Switching tracks, we take on water. I learn that although the train will only use 300 gallons of oil during the weekend, each trip up and down the mountain will require nearly 8000 gallons of water. Once they fill the water take, we run through a wye and then pull in front front of the passenger cars for the run up the mountain. Before leaving, Brian oils the working parts of the locomotive

The Crew on a rare break

As we leave Moundhouse, Ed pours a couple of cans of sand into the firebox. The draft is such that the sand is sucked through the boiler tubes and out the stack, cleaning out any build up on the tubes and hopefully making the train run smoother. As the sand runs through the boiler, or perhaps because of the addition air of having the firebox open, the smoke turns black for a few minutes. Although it was a relaxed trip going down the mountain, running uphill requires more work, especially from Ed, who has to constantly keep checking on the boiler and making sure there is enough steam for running the train. It almost seems he is as much of an artist as a mechanic as he both watches the gauges and adjusts the amount of water going into the boiler or the amount of fuel pumped into the firebox. But it’s not just the gages that he watches; he also keeps an eye on the smoke, occasionally glances into the firebox, and is always listening to the boiler breathing.    

The sun is now high in the sky and it’s getting hot, but I’m not prepared for the experience of the first tunnel. When we enter it, a hot wind blows across the boiler and into the cab and the temperature must have risen by 30 or 40 degrees. Coming down, with the boiler behind us, the tunnels weren’t hot, but with the boiler in front, we feel all the heat. This was the reason the last steam engines built for the Southern Pacific were “cab-forward” varieties. It was harder to build a cab-forward locomotive when the fireman had to shovel coal (or you had to have the fireman and engineer in two different ends of the train which created communication problems).  But once the railroad began using oil, they could move both to the front of the boiler. Not only did this allow better views of the track, it keep the cab more comfortable in long tunnels and the miles and miles of snowsheds the locomotives traveled as they made their way through the Sierras.  

at the Gold Hill Station

At Scales, we stop for a few minutes and Brian gets out and oils various parts of the engine. We then continue on until the Gold Hill Station where a few people get off in order to have lunch at the Gold Hill Hotel. Most of our passengers continue as the train climbs into Virginia City. There, everyone gets off. They’ll have three hours to tour the town before making the run back south. I skip the ride south but follow the train in my car. Stepping out into the heat, I photograph the train repeatedly as it makes its way down the mountain. Ed, Brian and Tim will leave the train at Moundhouse overnight. The next morning they’ll pick up passengers and run them up to Virginia City. At the end of the day, after dropping the passengers off in Moundhouse, the empty train will be driven back up the mountain to Virginia City. There, it will shuttle tourists around the Comstock between Virginia City and Gold Hill. The steam trains only run between Moundhouse and Virginia City on Saturdays and Sundays.  

Arriving in Virginia City
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Bringing Light to the World

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
June 20, 2022
Luke 8:16-23

Sermon recorded at the Bluemont PIcnic Shelter on Friday, June 24, 2022

At the beginning of worship:

One of the key doctrines of the Protestant Reformation is the “priesthood of all believers.” The concept, defined by John Milton, held that “every person is created by God with the freedom of conscience, reason, and will.”[1]  

This doctrine implies that we all have direct access to God in our prayers and through our study of God’s word. We don’t have to go through a priest, who stands between us and the divine. Jesus destroyed the veil separating us and God.[2] We can cast our burdens upon God, ask for intercession for friends and family, and seek God’s wisdom, all on our own. 

The priesthood of all believers and democracy

The priesthood of all believers is a novel concept which became foundational for a democratic society. If we have standing before God, the holy and almighty one, it goes without saying that we should also have political standing before other creatures like us who happen to be in a position of power.  

Telling what’s great about our local church

Throughout this series, I want to prepare you to be able to articulate why someone should check us out as a church. In this matter, I think the doctrine of the priesthood of all believers, is important. As a church, in the eyes of God, we’re all equal. And we should see others in that same way. No one is above anyone else.

Yes, some may be set aside for special functions such as the clergy. Some are set aside as ruling elders, those who make up the Session, the governing board of the church. But even here, no one is given special access to God. Nor is anyone given special treatment. We’re equal in God’s eyes, which we should celebrate! It makes the church a unique place in the world. We come as equals, we come as those brought together in Jesus Christ. 

Before reading scripture

We’re continuing our reading through the middle section of Luke’s gospel. Last week, we looked at Luke’s telling of the Parable of the Sower. This week, Luke follows that story with some mini parables about our responsibility to “let the truth be known.” Then Jesus discusses the meaning of his true family, which also has implications for us. I am reading this passage in The Message translation.

Read Luke 8:16-21

After the reading of Scripture: 

On a dark night from the bridge of a battleship, the lookout sighted a light dead ahead. They were on a collision course. He quickly relayed his sighting to the captain, who signaled to the vessel ahead, “change your course ten degrees east.” The response came back: “Change your course ten degrees west.” 

This infuriated the captain.  He responded: “I am a Navy captain. Change your course.”  

“I am a seaman, second class,” came the replay. “Change your course.”

Steam flowed from the captain’s ears, “I am the captain of a battleship. I’m not changing course.”

The response came back, “Sir, I’m manning a lighthouse. It’s your call.”[3]

Lighthouses as a sign of Jesus’ faithfulness

Christian stores often sell kitschy plaques and paintings of lighthouses with Bible verses about Jesus being the light of the world. And it’s appropriate, for lighthouses have become symbols of Jesus’ faithfulness. I’m not sure when Christians adopted the symbol, but it may have been quite early. By Jesus’ day, there had been a lighthouse for two centuries on the island of Pharos. This lighthouse guided ships into Alexander in Egypt after they’d sailed across the Mediterranean Sea. Alexander had a strong Jewish and latter a Christian presence.[4] While we can’t know for sure, perhaps the lighthouse there became linked to the faith in the late first or the second century. 

 In the days before Loran and GPS, lighthouses were essential to warning ships as to shoals and to the entrance to harbors. Many lives have been saved by those who attended lighthouses. It was a tough job as one had to keep the light going in all kinds of weather, especially during storms. 

Misleading lights

But, you know, other lights were at times used to confuse ships. During the 19th Century, along the Outer Banks, where many of the original residents were distantly related to pirates, during storms, some would build bonfires along the coastline. Seeing these lights in a blowing gale, a captain might adjust his course and then find his ship broken up on a sandbar. The residents would then save the crew and, as it was their maritime right in finding and saving the crew of a broken vessel, they would loot the ship of its goods. 

The message for us: Make sure we only shine the true light. We’re responsible to Christ, to let him shine, not to shine a light for our benefit.  This is especially true as we perform our role as a priest, of which we’re all one. Those who don’t know of our special status as a follower of Jesus, need to see our good deeds. Do we bring our Savior glory? 

Today’s text

Our text today has two parts. We could separate them as it appears they are distinct. The first part, about letting our lights shine, comes on the heels of the parable of the Sower, which we explored last week. Matthew and Mark also have sayings like this one in Luke’s gospel.[5] However, Matthew’s saying, in the Sermon on the Mount, is in a different context. “Letting the light shine,” may have been one of Jesus’ more frequent sayings. It could also be used in different situations,[6] but the sayings in all point to our priestly role of letting others know of Jesus. That’s why we put a lamp on a stand, so that it can give maximum light. 

Lamps in the first century

Hearing Jesus’ teachings about putting a light on a stand may have drawn people’s minds to the light stand in the temple, illuminating the holy room, for mortals to see. Or maybe they thought of their own lamps which provided nominal amount of light and had to be held high to maximize its benefit. We know that small oil lamps were common in Jesus’ day as they are frequently recovered in archeology digs.[7]  

Revealing God

Jesus, in recalling the use of lamps right after having told the story of the parable of the Sower, emphasizes the need to let our light shine. Jesus came to reveal God. And we, who know this truth, are to share it. We’re not to hoard such knowledge by hiding it under a pan or under the bed. I would suggest that hiding a light that was burning under a bed would be quite dangerous. That flame might set the sheets on fire. I’m not sure that’s a metaphor Jesus’ meant when he told this mini parable, but it certainly implies. Jesus shares his grace and love with us, and he expects us to share it with others. When we don’t, we’re not doing what he said. That can lead to dangerous consequences, such as our metaphorical bed fire.  

Two Points

There are two points we should understanding from these three opening sayings made by Jesus in the first half of our reading: Jesus’ purpose is not to conceal, but to reveal.

  1. Jesus didn’t come to share secrets with a few, his ministry is to bring to light what was unknown about God.
  2. However, parables don’t bless everyone equally. Those who hear and understand are blessed. Those who think they already know everything, find themselves lost.[8]
Second part of reading

The second part of our reading seems to be a new topic. Obviously, here, Jesus is no longer outside as it appears he was when he talked about the Sower. Instead, he is inside a building for his mother and brothers are outside. However, the topic, who are the true followers of Jesus, links up with Jesus’ previous teachings. 

Jesus and his family

Luke has already shown that Mary, Jesus’ mother, was committed to doing God’s work. We witness this before Jesus’ birth, as she answers the Angel Gabriel, “Here I am, the servant of the Lord, let it be with me according to your word?”.[9] At the age of 12, Jesus demonstrates has also shown his true family isn’t his earthly one which, like our families, is transient. Instead, his true family came from his closeness to his Father in heaven.[10] This also has implications for us. Our true family and our true home are not here on earth, but with our Father in heaven. I think that’s what Jesus drives at in this passage.

Mark presents this same story in a different light. He makes it sound more like Jesus’ family tried to discourage his ministry. Luke, however, presents the story in a more neutral way. As Luke has already done, Jesus’ family are portrayed as faithful and obedient.[11]   

Obedience is important to Jesus

So, according to this passage, who does Jesus consider his family? Those who hear his word and do it. It’s not just hearing or just believing; we must act on such beliefs. Obedience to Jesus is important. And, as we’ve just seen in the early part of the reading, part of this obedience is a willingness to share the faith and the hope we have in Jesus with others. 

Recently, somewhere, I saw a meme that hit home. It read: “Bible believing isn’t as important as Bible living.”[12] And I think that is what Jesus drives at in this passage. It’s not enough to know who Jesus is, we must follow him and show his love and offer his grace to the world around us. 

Sharing the Gospel of Grace

Of course, we’re not to share the gospel in an obnoxious manner. Jesus never used God’s word to beat up others. As Hannah Anderson in her book, Humble Roots, writes, “when we use fear to persuade a person to make a decision ‘before it’s too late,’ we make God look like a cosmic bully.”[13]We serve a God of love. As we follow the Son, our Savior, led by the Holy Spirit, we’re to show the lovingkindness to others that God has shown u

[1] John Witte Jr. “Law, Authority, and Liberty in Early Calvinism,” in Calvin and Culture: Exploring a Worldview, David W. Hall and Marvin Padgett, editors. (Phillipsburg, NJ: P & R Publishing, 2010), 36.

[2] Luke 23:45 describes the curtain (veil) in the temple ripping during Jesus’ crucifixion. 

[3] This is an old joke, going back to the 1930s. See: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lighthouse_and_naval_vessel_urban_legend

[4] See James R. Edwards, From Christ to Christianity: How the Jesus Movement Became the Church in Less than a Century (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academics, 2021), 62-64. 

[5] Matthew 5:14, Mark 4:21. While John doesn’t talk about a lamp, he does speak of Jesus as the light of the world. See John 1:4, 7-8.

[6] James R. Edwards, The Gospel of Luke (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2015), 241-2.

[7] Edwards, 241

[8] Fred B. Craddock, Luke: Interpretation, A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1990), 113. 

[9] Luke 1:38, 46-55. 

[10] Luke 2:49. 

[11] In addition to taking Jesus to the temple at the age of 12, they also presented Jesus on the eight day to be circumcised. See Luke 2:21-24.

[12] I would defend this meme in that we are not to believe the Bible, but in the God revealed in Jesus Christ, that is revealed to us through Scripture.

[13] Hannah Anderson, Humble Roots: How Humility Grounds and Nourishes Your Soul (Chicago: Moody Press, 2016), 112.

Morning Light, June 26, 2022

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The Dean and his secretary

Dean Mauser

From the internet (it appears as if it was from the seminary’s directory)

Two weeks ago, I posted a memoir about one of my seminary professors who had been a tank commander in the German army in World War II. I mentioned he wasn’t my only professor who spent time on the other side during that terrible war. The other was Ulrich Mauser, the dean of the seminary. He was a kind and gentle man. I only took one class with him, a New Testament survey class. But when another professor, Dr. Kelly, had medical issues while teaching on the Book of Acts, Mauser took over and finished out the term. I essentially had him as a professor for a term and a half. But I got to know him in other ways, too.

Unlike von Waldow, Mauser didn’t talk about the war, at least not around me. I remember him mentioning his involvement once. We were sitting together in the dining room at lunch. He sat among a group of students and there may have been other professors. Somehow, the topic of the war came up. Mauser recalled being a student in Germany during the war. As Germany needed more and more soldiers, he received a notice every year to report for a physical in preparation for being drafted into the armed forces. But because of health issues and poor eyesight, he always received a deferment and would return to school. However, in late 1944, according to Dr. Mauser, things had gotten so bad they did care that he couldn’t see. With his thick eyeglasses, without which he was nearly blind, they assigned him to an anti-aircraft flack gun on top of a building in Berlin. As most of the air attacks came at night, there wasn’t even a way to aim. They just pointed the guns up into the sky and shot in the general direction of the drone of engines. 

While he wasn’t really involved in combat, the war had an affect upon Dr. Mauser. His family home was destroyed by a bomb. He also became very interested in the Biblical understanding of peace. His last book, The Gospel of Peace, focused on this life-long theme. 

Mauser’s studied at the University of Tubingen in Germany where he received his doctorate, writing a dissertation on Martin Luther. He also spent time at the University of St. Andrews in Scotland, where he met his wife. After his schooling, as a young pastor in post-war Germany, he served in a congregation that mostly consisted of displaced people. 

My best memory of Dr. Mauser came after a disappointing relationship with Debbie, his secretary. Below, I posted a piece I wrote in 2014, after learning of Debbie’s death from cancer. After Debbie became engaged to someone else, Dr. Mauser invited me out to lunch. We went to a restaurant in Shadyside. As if he was my pastor, he was concerned with my emotional state. Ironically, at the time I was on the top of the world, having essentially completed the Appalachian Trail. While he never appeared as an outdoor type of person, Mauser was interested in my experience along the trail. I learned how it tied to his work on the theme of wilderness in scripture. 

When I graduated from Pittsburgh in 1990, Dr. Mauser was winding up his tenure at the school. He had moved to America in 1959, to serve as a chaplain at Oregon State University. In 1964, he began teaching at Louisville Theological Seminary. In 1977, he was appointed a professor of New Testament at Pittsburgh Seminary and became Dean in 1981. Turning 65 in 1990, and he faced mandatory retirement as was the seminary’s practice at the time. So, Dr. Mauser accepted an appoint at Princeton, where he taught six more years before returning to Pittsburgh for his final years. 

I last saw Dr. Mauser at a Presbyterian Coalition meeting in Orlando Florida in the fall of 2001, just a few weeks after 911. I had not seen him since graduation. He appeared delighted to run into me and we later shared a meal together. He died in 2008. 

Ulrich W. Mauser’s obituary in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

Debbie, the Dean’s secretary

Written in 2014, after learning of Debbie’s death from cancer: 

A photo I took in May 1987

Debbie was beautiful. She turned heads with her broad smile, big eyes, and hardy laugh. She wore flowing dresses with heels that clicked and gave shape to her calves. And she was the Dean’s secretary. In my first year of seminary, I never thought she would have been interested in me. Then, a month or so before school ended for the summer, she invited me to over for Sunday evening’s dinner at her place. Wanting to make a good impression, I brought along a bottle of wine, Pouilly-Fuisse. I learned she seldom drank, but she seemed impressed and suggested we open the bottle and celebrate. Of course, she had no corkscrew. She suggested she might borrow one for a neighbor, but I told her I thought I had a solution. I ran out to my car. Ever the Boy Scout, I had a Swiss-army knife with a corkscrew attachment in my glove compartment.    

On Easter Sunday, I was invited to dinner with her family on Pittsburgh’s Southside. When we arrived at her parents’ home, her brothers were watching a documentary on a race car driver, Elliott Forbes-Robinson.  Although I had never been a big fan of racing, I knew him. When I was working for the Boy Scouts, he was an assistant Scoutmaster on a troop on Lake Norman. I recalled the story of meeting him, at a scout camp. When he told me he was a race car driver, I asked if he raced at Hickory speedway. Hickory was a step up from the dirt tracks of the South, but most of the drivers were still amateurs. “No,” he said, “I have not raced there.” “Where do you race?” I asked. He started listing off an impressive list of cities with Cam-Am and such races. I stood there thinking, “Yeah, right, and I’m Daniel Boone.” I later learned he really was a race car driver, although at the time he didn’t drive NASCAR. He did drive those fancy cars and was one of the top drivers in the world. He had a boy in scouts and as he wasn’t racing that week, had come to camp with his son’s troop. Telling the story, Debbie’s brothers learned that I really wasn’t a racing fan, but they were impressed that I had personally met one of the greats. 

Over the next few weeks, we began having lunch together in the dining hall and went out every weekend. I suggested a Saturday afternoon baseball game and she was up for it. When I arrived to pick her up, she handed me two tickets! I didn’t know what to say, but as a poor student was thankful. Then I looked at the seats and was humbled. Her brother worked for one of the high-end hotels in Pittsburgh and they had tickets that no one had claimed so he gave them to Debbie for us to enjoy. We sat directly behind home plate, five rows up. I never had such good seats for a major league game. It’s easy to love a girl whose brother arranges to cover the expenses of a date.  

Later that evening, Debbie and I walked up a hill and held hands as we watched the sun set. I felt as if I was the luckiest man in the world.

Debbie was close to her family and on another weekend, she and her brothers had given their mother an evening ride in a balloon across Southwestern Pennsylvania. When the mother got in the basket with a few other sightseers and a pilot, we raced along the countryside following the balloon until they finally set down in a cow pasture and we retrieved her mother. This would be a lot easier today, with cell phones, but this was 1987.

The day I left school at the end of the semester, we had breakfast together at a local King’s Restaurant. I wanted to do something special and had purchased some of her favorite perfume, hoping that as she used it, she would remember me. She seemed pleased and we even talked about her meeting up with me in Delaware Water Gap as I hiked the Appalachian Trail. Although we were not in a committed relationship, we talked about picking up where we were at in September.

After breakfast, I drove to my parents in North Carolina and a week later, started my summer hike from Virginia to Maine. At first, she wrote and seemed excited when I called, but as I continued to hike, I heard less and less from her. I knew something was up. Even though I had started hiking with the thoughts of coming back to her arms, I realized this was not going to be the case. When I arrived back at school, I was on cloud nine, having just finished my summer hike, essentially completing the Appalachian Trail completed (I still had a 25-mile section down south to complete). That first day back everyone seemed concerned about how I was going to take being dropped, but I had given up on her mid-way through the summer. I learned she had connected with someone at a wedding (they may had known each other before) and was engaged. One of the kindness things that happened was the Dean inviting me out to lunch. He, too, was concerned with how I was handling things, but we mostly talked about my hike as my head was still in the mountains. After a summer of hiking, our short romance seemed light-years away.

A few years ago, Debbie sent me a message and a friendship request via Facebook. A quarter century had passed as she left her position as the Dean’s secretary shortly after I’d returned from hiking the trail. We chatted a few times and I learned her marriage had been horrible and she had spent most of her life on her own, but that she was blessed with a couple of boys who are now adults. She apologized for having treated me horribly. I thanked her for the apology but told her my life had continued and was going well. Then she told me about the breast cancer. Over the years since that chat, I would occasionally learn through Facebook about how each new treatment was less effective. But she was strong in her faith and always maintained a positive outlook, but at times she’d ask for prayers, and I would pray. In early May, the disease finally took her, and I found myself shedding tears. She was a beautiful woman who was so proud of her boys (her sons and her brothers). I felt a small piece of their pain.   

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We’re called to be farmers

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Presbyterian Churches
June 19, 2022
Luke 8:1-15

Recorded at Mayberry Church on Friday, June 17, 2022

At the beginning of worship:

Does everyone have their gardens planted? I transplanted eggplants and winter squash this week, which I’d started indoors by seed. That’s the last for my garden until later in the summer when I’ll replant lettuce, turnips, and beets for the fall. Today’s theme is about planting, but not just about putting seeds in the ground. How do we plant the seeds of God’s hope and grace into the minds and hearts of others? 

We all know that Jesus calls disciples to fish for people, right? But that’s just in Matthew and Mark’s gospel. We’re called also to be Sowers of God’s word and that’s in all three synoptic gospels: Matthew, Mark, and Luke.[1] But how do we sow God’s word? Ponder this question this morning. I’d love to hear your ideas. This also might be something to talk about with one another after worship. 

Before reading the scripture:

Last week, we saw a woman break the social customs of the day by crashing a dinner party and anointing Jesus’ feet.[2] Today, as we move into the 8th chapter of Luke, we learn Jesus and the disciples are also accompanied by woman as they travel and teach. Luke focuses on women in Jesus’ ministry. He also often places contrasting stories side by side, as he does here with the story of the forgiven woman followed by women travelling with Jesus and supporting his ministry.[3]

Our reading today is about sharing the gospel. That’s what the disciples, including the women, are doing. And it’s what we’re called to do. Yet, we’re not always successful, as we see in this parable. But that’s okay. We’re called to try in good faith. Ultimately, when it comes to salvation, God is in charge. 

Read Luke 8:1-15

The Call to be a Teacher

If you want to make a difference in the world, there probably no better occupation, calling, or vocation than to be a teacher. Think back on your lives. Parents aside, in our younger years, teachers probably influenced our life more than anyone else. In addition to giving us the knowledge we need to make it through life, good teachers show us they care and instills in us curiosity for the world and compassion for others. 

Ms. Freeman

My family moved during the summer between my third and fourth grade. It was traumatic to leave friends and my old school behind and to start over again at Bradley Creek Elementary School. 

My teacher in the fourth grade, Ms Freeman, made all the difference. I struggled making friends in this new school and did not do well academically. My conduct grades were even more atrocious. Unbeknownst to be, Ms. Freeman got permission from my parents to keep me after school one day. I’ll never forget, when all the kids left class and headed to the bus. I was told to remain behind. I felt rejected. 

But Ms. Freeman won me over that afternoon by going to the teachers’ lounge and fetching us both a Pepsi-Cola. I was a cheap date! We visited about the changes going on in my life. Then she gave me a ride home. I think she had a hot new mustang. If not, it was some spiffy new car. From then on, Ms. Freeman was more than a teacher. She was a friend.

I have not seen or heard of her since I finished elementary school at Bradley Creek a few years later. Hopefully, she knows I and many in the class turned out okay. Others, at least one other that I know of, was big disappointment. He’ll probably spend the rest of his life behind bars. Sadly, that’s how it goes. Some seeds fall in good soil, some don’t. 

Parable of the Sower:

Where do we see ourselves in this parable? I suggest that we’re to be the Sower. For you know, when you bury a seed in the ground, you lose control. We trust the soil. We have faith, as the seed magically dies to come alive in a new plant. 

You know, it was hard for the disciples and those around Jesus to see so many people who did not receive our Savior’s message. They were close to Jesus and saw him change lives. But others seem unaffected. This bothered them.

Jesus answers a lingering question

The question still lingers today. Why do some people accept the Jesus’ message while others ignore it? And then there are those who outright reject it? Many, especially new Christians, become excited about Jesus and wonder why no one else seems to share their excitement. After all, they tasted the bread of life, they’ve realized that their lives have been redeemed, saved. With this new and euphoric experience, they wonder why the world doesn’t embrace Jesus’ message. After all, it would solve a lot of problems. But, as it is, not everyone accepts the gospel.  

The parable of the Sower addresses this lingering question as to why some ignore the gospel, why others seem to accept it only to fall away, and why the gospel message in other blossoms. There’s a crowd of people around Jesus when he tells this story. Many of them, we can assume, were farmers. They knew what it meant to sow seed. 

Farming in the first century:

Farming in the first century was different. They didn’t have fancy farm implements: plows, disks, grain drills, planters, and cultivators. First century farmers didn’t first plow their fields; instead, they literally sowed seed by tossing it over the land. Then they came back and, with a rough prototype of a plow, disturbed the ground a bit, kicking dirt up over the seeds, so that they might sprout and grow. 

Of course, with this primitive style of agriculture, some seeds did fall on the path and were either trampled or eaten by birds before they were covered with dirt and allow to germinate.  Other seeds fell in with the weeds and the nutgrass which overwhelmed the plants before they had a chance to produce. Others fell among the rocks and couldn’t establish solid roots. But there were a few seeds that landed in good soil. They made an incredible harvest.

What’s Jesus’ driving at?

Listening to this parable, I’m sure many wondered what Jesus was driving at. Certainly, they knew what he was talking about, in a literal sense. They’d either sowed many a seed themselves or they’d seen farmers at work. When Jesus interprets the seed in the story to represent the word of God, many who heard the parable probably worried whether they were in good or bad soil. In other words, will the gospel take root in me, or will I turn away in despair? Therefore, they ask Jesus to explain his story. 

Explanation of the parable:

From Jesus’ explanation, we learn the intention of this parable is not for us to worry and wonder about our faith. Instead, the parable addresses the concern Jesus’ followers have about not everyone responding to the gospel.   Not everyone hears Christ’s call—and not everyone who hears takes his word to heart. But just as the Sower continues to plant even though he knows that not every seed will grow into a fruitful plant, we too must continue our work. In other words, instead of worrying about what type of soil we’re rooted in, we should see ourselves as the Sower. We’ve been called to share the gospel, which is to sow the seeds of faith. When we sow such seeds, we can’t control the outcome.

Responsibility to be faithful:

When we see ourselves as the Sower in the story, we understand we have a responsibility. Our task as Christians, is to be faithful, not successful. Because we don’t know when or where a particular seed might germinate, we carry out our tasks and trust God will bless our efforts. This takes a big burden off our shoulders, for we are just laborers in God’s Garden. 

Proclamation and listening required

For the gospel to germinate, it requires two things: People must hear. Believers must tell others. But the other person must hear and understand.[4] We control only our message. It’s up to the listener and the Holy Spirit to ensure the message is heard and understood.[5] We participate in the sowing of seeds and in the harvest, but God is the one who brings about the bounty. Faithfully carrying out our call is all that is asked of us.  

Sowing seeds today:

So how do we sow seeds? Let me suggest two ways. First, if people see us living a godly life, putting our trust and faith in God, then we’re sowing seeds. Sometimes it might go against the grain of who we are to trust in God. We should live within the Platonic idea that it is better for our soul’s sake even to suffer wrong than for us to do wrong.[6] That’s having faith, putting our trust in the Lord. Furthermore, without us bragging or being showy, people should see signs of fruit from our lives as they witness our kindness and gentleness. 

A second way we sow seeds is to tell others about Jesus. We do this by inviting people to church where they can learn about Jesus. But we should also be ready when called upon to give a testimony. What does it mean for us to be a Christian? Can we articulate to others why we place our faith in Jesus? Can we share what it means to us to trust him, to follow him? 

An elevator speech

One thing you might try this week, to help you grow in your faith, is to write out an “elevator speech”? An elevator speech is a brief sales pitch for an idea. It’s short enough to share with someone in the time you have together in an elevator ride. What about your faith that is important to you that you would be willing to share with others? Write it down, keep it short and simple, then if you’re ever called upon to give a testimony, you’ll be ready. Here is my attempt at an elevator speech: 

I’m a sinful man. While I am not worthy of the grace God has shown me through Jesus Christ, I am grateful Christ died for me and called me as not just a disciple but a minister within his church. I am grateful God’s Spirit surrounds me even when I am unaware of such presence. Out of gratitude, I do what I can to bring glory to God though Jesus Christ, my Savior and Lord, by loving God and others. 

If people see us living a godly life, a life of faith, then we’re sowing seeds. If people see us living a life that’s not so godly, one where we don’t put our faith in God, we’ll be sowing weeds rather than seeds. Let’s sow good seeds. Amen.

[1] Jesus call for the disciples to become “fisherman is found in Matthew 4:18-22 and Mark 1:16-20. The Parable of the Sower is found in Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23; Mark 4:1-9, 13-20; and Luke 8:4-15. 

[2] See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2022/06/all-are-in-need-of-forgiveness-the-seemingly-righteous-and-the-obvious-sinner/

[3]Fred B. Craddock, Luke, Interpretation, A Bible-Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1990), 106. Another example of Luke placing contrasting stories back-to-back: The blind beggar and rich Zacchaeus (18:35-19:10).

[4] Craddock, 111. 

[5] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Luke (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015), 240. 

[6] Arthur Herman, The Cavet and the Light: Plato Verses Aristotle and the Struggle for the Soul of Western Civilization. (2013). 

Travel with us this summer as we learn what it means to share the good news
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Three reviews: Democracy, Beza, & Tides

Anne Applebaum, The Twilight of Democracy: The Seductive Lure of Authoritarianism

(2020: New York: Anchor Books, 2021), 206 pages including notes. No index or bibliography. 

This is an important book for understanding much of what is happening in our world. However, at first, I wondered what I was getting into as Applebaum describes a party she and her husband held on New Year’s Eve 1999. She reveals her guest list and a bit about the menu. Then, as I read deeper into the book, she describes how many of those at the party went in separate directions over the next two decades. She comes back to the dinner party motif throughout the books. Parts of this book felt like a travelogue memoir as she wrote about her connection to well-known names in European politics along with meals she shared with them. But between these personal stories, Applebaum makes important observations. Conservatism has moved from its traditional Burkean views to a fascination with authoritarianism.  

In the United States and the United Kingdom, the new right has broken with the old fashioned Burkean small-c conservatism that is suspicious of rapid change in all its forms. Although they hate the phrase, the new right is more Bolshevik than Burkean: these are men and women who want to overthrow, bypass, or undermine existing institutions, or destroy what exists. (page 20)

Applebaum, an American married to a Polish politician and diplomat, has lives much of her life in Britain and Poland. Once a Reagan Republican, she confesses to have left the Republican party over two issues: Sarah Palin (who kept her from supporting her hero, John McCain), and the use of torture in the war on terror. In this book, she notes how many of those she’s known through her political connections are divided over current politics within the Republican party. However, much of this book isn’t about America. She writes extensively about the politics in Poland, Hungary, the United Kingdom, and lesser degree about what’s happening in France, Spain, Italy, Brazil among other nations. I would suggest that what’s happening in these countries are important, especially since the American Conservative Union’s CPAC just held a meeting in Hungary. There, they were welcomed with wide arms by Viktor Orban, the nation’s authoritarian leader. While America is discussed throughout this book, only in the chapter “Prairie Fires” does she extensively cover what has happened in our nation in the recent past.  

I recommend this book and would enjoy discussing it with others. I wished Applebaum had included an index and a bibliography. This is the second book I’ve read by her this year. In February, as it appeared there would be war in Ukraine, I read her masterful work, Red Famine. While Twilight is good, and probably pertains more to America’s future, I highly recommend Red Famine to understand what’s happen right now in Ukraine.

Here are some of my takeaways: 

  • Simplicity makes conspiracy theories attractive. Complexity and nuances are difficult for people to accept and understand. (see pages 45 and 106)
  • The optimism of the 90s, after the end of the Cold War, has disappeared
  • Conservativism has lost its optimistic views of the future (example, it no longer buys into Reagan’s “America as a shining beacon,” not as an ideal achieved, but as one to strive to live into)
  • There is nothing exceptional about “American exceptionalism” as it is currently defined.
  • Societies are always in a state of flux (meaning of government, national understanding of a country, etc, must constantly be redefined)
  • As we move beyond COVID, the future is not clear. Can democratic ideals be revigorated or will we move toward authoritarian institutions? (pages 185-186)
  • Although it is difficult work, we must still strive for “apathy” is deadening, “mind-numbing,” and “Soul-destroying.” (!87). 

Shawn D. Wright, Theodore Beza: The Man and the Myth 

(Great Britain: Christian Focus Publication, 2015), 256 pages. Discussion questions after each chapter. No notes, bibliography or index. 

Theodore Beza was John Calvin’s successor in Geneva after the Reformer’s death. Wright wrote this book to refute a popular notion that Beza moved away from Calvin’s teaching as he took the Reformed movement into a more scholastic direction. While I am not convinced that Wright succeeded with his stated purpose, he introduces Beza to a new generation by outlining his life and his major theological positions. For this reason, I am glad to have read Wright’s work. 

Like Calvin, Beza was French. Unlike Calvin, who died long before the St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre (1572), Beza’s Geneva had a front row seat to the autocracies committed upon the Protestants in France. This troublesome event, along with living through plagues, certainly colored Beza’s worldview. 

From what I understand from Wright, Beza had a more vivid “eschatology vision” than Calvin. But, as I just pointed out, his ministry was in a different era. Furthermore, from how Wright presents Beza theology, it appears that the younger pastor in Geneva spent more time dealing with “double predestination” than Calvin. It also appears he wrote more about hell, Satan, and the reprobate than Calvin. Having not actually read Beza, I’m not sure I can state this categorically, but from my reading of Wright, it appears this way. While Calvin certainly accepted the idea of double predestination as a means to maintain God’s sovereignty, I don’t remember him dealing with the topic as much as Wright suggests Beza did. 

There were several insights into Beza’s thought I found useful. His four differences between law and gospel are helpful distinctions. He begins noting that law is natural while gospel is supernatural (91). Beza also appears to have been pastoral in his theology. This was seen in both his work on a Christian response to the plague and in his writings on prayer.  I wish I had read the section on plague before COVID, as it could have been very helpful. He makes the case for doing what we can to protect ourselves and our families as well as acknowledging God’s role in all. 

If you’re into theology, I recommend this book. Otherwise, I might look at my next book. 

Jonathan White, Tides: The Science and Spirit of the Ocean

Don Waren, narrator (2017: Audible, 2017), 11 hours 12 minutes.

While I really enjoyed this book, I’m not sure how to catalog it. It’s part travelogue, as White travels to globe to experience various tide phenomenon. It’s part historical narrative as the author discusses various understandings to tide theory, from the ancient world myths to the present. There’s a part of the book that is an astrological primer, as we learn of the moon and sun’s role in creating tide. But in addition to the pull heavenly bodies, there’s also a discussion of the role of geology, wave theory, and how vibration (resonance) effects tides. And after explaining tide theory, Write discusses ecological issues and how tides can help provide power (as it once did in England where it powered many mills around the seacoast).  

A researcher provided the author an example of how tides slosh around the ocean. It’s not all uniform as if the ocean is a pan where the water moves back and forth, from one side to the other. Instead, it’s like having a table full of pans. When someone kicks the leg of the table, the water in each pan sloshes at different rates. Because of other factors like geology, the ocean doesn’t act uniform with the gravity pull of the sun and moon. Some places experience great tides while other places (especially nearer the equator or in lakes), the tides are barely noticeable. 

I learned many things from this book including that spring tides have no relationship to the season, but to an old Anglo-Saxon word that means “to rise or swell or bust.” Spring tides generally occur at New or Full Moons. The opposition, which occur seven days later, are “neap tides.”

Having grown up near the coast in North Carolina, I’ve been aware of tides my whole life. But the coast in North Carolina has only a tide that averages 3 feet.  I also knew that in South Florida, the tides were much less. When I moved to Savannah, I was shocked to realize that its tides were much higher than those to the north or south (the spring tides often being over 10 feet). Sadly, Wright does not discuss the tides within the blight (indention) along the Georgia coast that creates larger tides by forcing in more water. While he writes about using tide for energy, he doesn’t mention the way rice farmers would use a series of locks and dikes around the coast tidal rivers to flood fields. This practice was done in the American South, and was probably brought into use by the slaves who learned such skill along the African coast.

A ten-foot tide might seem to be a lot, but there are places in the world where tides can be as high as 50 feet! Another interesting phenomenon are tidal bores. Wright travels to the Qiuntang River in China to explore the “Silver Dragon,” a tidal wave that rushes up the river. In another chapter he goes under the ice in the Canadian arctic with an Inuit elder to hunt mussels. With extreme low tides, the natives supplemented their diet by forging under the ice, but they had to be careful to exit the ice caves before they were filled with water. In addition, he explores surfing off California and Hawaii and his own sailing in some of the tidal straits that can be challenging when caught at a time when the tide is running fast. 

Toward the end of the book, he discusses climate change, sea-level rise, and such dangers posed to coastal areas. He visits the Scotland’s Orkney Islands and South Chili to learn about using tides to generate electricity. Interestingly, John Kennedy spoke about using tides in New England to create electricity just weeks before his death.  Kennedy said: 

“The problems of the world cannot possibility be solved by skeptics and cynics whose horizons are limited by the obvious realities. We need people who can dream of things that never was.”

I enjoyed listening to this book and recommend it to anyone interested in the sea. 

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All are in need of forgiveness: the seemingly righteous and the obvious sinner

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
June 12, 2022
Luke 7:36-50

At the beginning of worship:

The first great end of the Presbyterian Church is “the proclamation of the gospel for the salvation of humankind.”[1] In other words, we’re to bring people into a relationship with Jesus Christ for he is the way to salvation.[2] By teaching and sharing Jesus’ story, we participate with God’s work through the Holy Spirit to help people know Jesus. Everyone needs to understand God’s love for the world as demonstration in the sending of a Son, our Savior and Lord.[3]

Think about your role. How can you help people know Jesus? One way is by inviting them to church or to a church function like a Bible study or a fellowship event. We need to get to know people. We should show people that we’re a pretty good bunch of people and that, like Jesus, we’ll accept them and not be judgmental. For we know Jesus accepted us, faults, and all, as he has called us to repentance and offered his grace. Jesus is gracious to us; we’re to be gracious to others. 

Before the reading of scripture

Today we’re beginning a trip through the middle of Luke’s gospel. In these passages, I will highlight why it is important for people to experience Jesus and our responsibility to bring this about. 

Our text is Luke 7:36-50. 

After Scripture

Everlast, “What’s It’s Like”

While I’m not a big rap fan, one rapper I sometimes listen to is Everlast. A “white” rapper, he’s a good musician. Carlos Santana demands such. I became aware of Everlast through music he made with Santana.[4] Like most rappers, his lyrics contain explicit language. But they also contain a message. If you cleaned up the words, his song, “What’s It’s Like” could be an appropriate hymn to go with today’s text. 

We’re all seen a man at the liquor store beggin’ for your change.
The hair on his face is dirty, dreadlocked and full of mange.
He asks a man for what he could spare with shame in his eyes.
“Get a job, you [blankly] slob” is all he replies.

Then comes the chorus. This should make us think:

God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in his shoes
‘Cause then you really might now what it’s like to sing the blues
Then you really might know what it’s like…[5]

This song continues with the story of a pregnant teenager, a drug addict, and other down and out examples. We also hear the abuse they receive. But what would Jesus say? What would Jesus do?  

How would Jesus treat someone who’s down and out?

Our passage today provides a hint at what our Savior might say to the person down and out. The text makes it clear, the sinful woman who busts into the party isn’t appreciated by anyone but Jesus. 

But maybe turn-around is fair play. After all, this is the second dinner party in Luke’s gospel where Jesus finds himself being judged. The first, thrown by Levi, had a bunch of tax collectors. And the pharisees, witnessing this, complain to Jesus’ disciples, wanting to know why Jesus eats and drinks with tax collectors and sinners.[6]

Why is Jesus in the home of a Pharisee?

And now Jesus is in the home of a pharisee. We might wonder why Jesus would go to a pharisee’s home. After all, he had a lot of problems with tax pharisees. But it appears Jesus likes Simon. Besides to be in fellowship with one group and not the other, while you’re teaching about love, would show prejudice.[7]

When we set out to right the world, we’re always in danger of just sticking with those who think like us or look like us. And then, our focus becomes myopic. We see the faults of others, and not of ourselves and those like us. Self-righteousness leads us down the wrong path, as we see with Simon. So yes, Jesus eats with those labeled by society as sinners. But Jesus also eats with those seen as righteous. And, knowing their hearts, he knows both need grace.  

This is an important message. Don’t ever think anyone doesn’t need to know about Jesus and his love and grace. We shouldn’t set those who seem to be righteous on a pedestal nor should we look down on those whose faults are so visible to everyone. We don’t know people’s hearts.

Why did Simon invite Jesus

I wonder why Simon invited Jesus to dinner. Simon, with what we’re told in the text, doesn’t seem to be setting Jesus up for entrapment.[8]That happens with others pharisees and in other places in the gospels,[9]but Simon appears genuinely interested in Jesus. He even refers to Jesus as a teacher, or rabbi, a title of honor in the day. “Maybe Jesus is a prophet,” Simon thinks. “After all, it’s been centuries since Israel had a prophet.”[10] I expect Simon feels blessed to be able to spend some quality time with Jesus, getting to know this interesting teacher who has become somewhat of a celebrity.

While I don’t think Simon was out to entrap Jesus, I do think he had certain expectations of him as a guest in his home. 

Simon’s home invaded

Simon may have wondered if his luck had run out when a woman, a known sinner, interrupts his cozy meal with Jesus and a few of his friends. 

Now, let me say something about the woman’s sinfulness. It doesn’t say in the text that she was a prostitute, but throughout the centuries, that’s been her cast. The loose hair and the expensive bottle of perfume seem dead giveaways. But that’s reading into the text our own values. Unmarried women were not expected to wear their hair up and the alabaster jar, for all we know, may have been an inheritance. Furthermore, Luke doesn’t really address prostitution.[11] The only thing we can be certain of is that she was publicly known as a sinner.

The persistent woman  

The woman’s perseverance reminds me of a tiny enthusiastic flea who can worry an entire dog. She’s determined. She forces herself in someone else’s home and positions herself by the guest of honor. Look at the active verbs that indicate her determination: she learned where Jesus was at, she brought ointment, she stood behind his feet, she weptwhile she washed and wiped, kissed, and anointed his feet.[12] Eight strong verbs illustrate her determination. 

The woman’s grit rubs Simon the wrong way. All the while, Jesus remains calm as she washes his feet using only her tears. She dries them with her hair, kisses them, and anoints them with ointment. After a lot of walking around Galilee, I’m sure Jesus appreciated such care. But Simon now thinks Jesus is a fraud. A prophet would know better and shoo away such a sinful woman. 

Jesus responds publicly to Simon’s private thoughts

Yet, Simon keeps his thoughts to himself. Jesus, knowing Simon’s thoughts, responds with a parable. To put this parable in modern day terms, two individuals owed the bank money. One owed a five thousand dollars and the other a hundred thousand dollars. The text uses the terms 50 and 500 denarii. A denarii was the rate of pay for a day laborer, which is how I came up with my equivalents in today’s dollars. 

The bank forgives both loans. Fat chance, we say, but remember this a parable, a story told as an example, not an actual incident. Bankers weren’t any more forgiving in the first century than today. 

But for illustration, the banker writes off the debt of both. Jesus asks Simon which individual loved the banker the most. Simon answers, the one forgiven the most.

This sets the stage for Jesus to compare the woman with Simon. Simon, whom we assumed had little for which to be forgiven, didn’t perform any acts of adoration upon Jesus. However, this nameless sinful woman worships him with expensive ointments and her own tears. She shows hospitality beyond that which Simon has shown. “Your sins are forgiven,” Jesus says. “Your faith has saved you; you can go in peace.” 

Jesus’ forgiving sin

The folks sitting around the table are amazed by Jesus’ words. After all, only God can forgive sins, they think. And they’re right, but they just don’t yet know Jesus’ identity. 

Interestingly, our text leaves us hanging. The question of forgiving sins is not addressed in this text. Nor do we know if Simon became a follower of Jesus. Maybe he did. We can only hope. After all, another pharisee, one who appears to have been even more self-righteous than Simon, meets Jesus on the Damarcus Road and becomes the greatest Christian missionary ever.[13]

Lessons from the text

What might we learn from this text? How about this: everyone needs grace. This includes the sinful woman and the honored pharisee. One may be forgiven a little, the other a lot, but both stand in need of forgiveness. 

As Christians, we’re in the forgiveness business. This is why Jesus set up the church: to show grace. Which leads me to a second truth from the text. Never belittle the sinful who seek forgiveness. Instead, we’re to be like the angels who rejoices when even one sinner repents.[14]

May our community of faith be known to be gentle and caring, like Jesus. Amen 

[1] Presbyterian Church, USA, Book of Order (2017-2019), F-1.0304.

[2] John 14:6.

[3] John 3:16. 

[4] Everlast and Santana “Put Your Lights On” was released in 1999 and won a Grammy as the Best Performance by a Duo or Group with Vocals at the 42nd Annual Grammy Awards. 

[5] Everlast, “What It’s Like,” on the album Whitey Ford Sings the Blues (1998).

[6] Luke 5:29-30. See James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Luke (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2015), 226.

[7] Fred B. Craddock, Luke, Interpretation, A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1990), 104. 

[8] Edwards, 226; Craddock, 104. 

[9] Examples: Matthew 12:38f, 15:1f, 16:1f, 19:3, 22:15f; Mark 7:5, 8:11f, 10:2f, 12:13f; Luke 6:7f, 14:1f; John 1:24f.

[10] I’m speaking of a prophet who left writings behind for John the Baptist was a prophet (Matthew 14:5). The last prophet to leave behind writings was Malachi, whose ministry was after Israel returned from Babylonian exile.

[11] Luke’s sole mention of prostitute is 15:30 (Prodigal Son). For more discussion on why we shouldn’t immediately consider her a prostitute, see Edwards, 227-229. Norval Geldenhuys’ considers her a prostitute in his commentary. See The Gospel of Luke NICNT (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1983 reprint), 236 note 4. 

[12] Edwards, 228.

[13] Edwards, 231.

[14] Luke 15:10.

It’s a foggy morning that that doesn’t keep the birds from singing. May our hearts be as joyful.

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Remembering Professor von Waldow

“You have a great opportunity here,” Professor Eberhard von Waldow said on the opening day of class. “You get to learn the language of God in a German accent.” And then, pointing the stick he always brought into class at me, he continued, “And you even get to learn it with a Southern accent.” 

“Was that how they spoke in Judea?” I asked sarcastically. He grinned and continued telling us about the richness of the Hebrew language and how the New Testament was just an appendix to the Old. 

This was in the fall of 1987. There were seven of us in the class and we sat around a long oak table in a conference room at Pittsburgh Seminary. All of us were nervous. With his Prussian roots, von Waldow had a reputation for being verbally abusive to the unprepared. But I signed up for his class because I knew it would be small. I would receive individual attention. In addition, the fear of having him humiliate you was enough to make sure I would do the required work. Throughout the academic year, until May, we met in that classroom. Sadly, today, I remember more of his stories than I do about the language. 

As a young man, “Waldo,” as some of us called him behind his back (in person you always addressed him as either Professor or Doctor) had been a tank commander in the German army. Most of the time he spent on the Eastern Front, fighting the Russians. Wounded in 1944, he returned to Germany to recuperate. He ended the war on the Western front. With a rag-tag army of kids and old men, his orders were to to help stop the advance of the Allies. Realizing the absurdity of this, he surrendered to the British.

After the war, he became a pacifist and finished his university studies. Like his father before him, he became a Lutheran pastor and scholar. He would teach at Pittsburgh for over thirty years. Living in a neighbor that had many Jewish survivors of the Holocaust, he had to confront his past. He made friends among the Jewish people. In November 1988, on the 50th anniversary of Kristallnacht, an event in which violence against the Jews broke out across Germany, he spoke in a local synagogue. 

I couldn’t attend his Kristallnacht talk because I was serving First Presbyterian Church of Virginia City, Nevada as a student pastor at the time. However, we occasionally corresponded and he sent me his manuscript (which, over the years, I’ve lost). In it, he describes being in the school at the time when fire fighters stood back and let Jewish synagogues and businesses burn. His father became upset about what was happening. His father would be twice arrested by the Gestapo, but it was a Russian soldier killed him at the end of the war. In his later years, Von Waldow wanted it known that there were Germans who hated all that the Third Reich stood for. Sadly, as a young man out of high school, he had no choice but to report to duty when drafted. 

Eberhard von Waldow occasionally told stories about the war. As an academic, his methodology was steeped in German higher criticism, which many condemn for discounting miracles and divine providence. When asked about his position on miracles, von Waldow told about riding in a tank that had a 500 bomb detonate on the top of the tank’s turret. “I said, “ah, shit” and then couldn’t hear for a few weeks. “But I survived,” he continued. “Some might say it was Krupp armor that saved me, but I know better. Had that bomb landed elsewhere except on the very top of the turret, I wouldn’t be here.”

One day, I wore a pink shirt to class. We were learning about Hebrew vowel points and how certain ones would soften a letter. As a teacher, Von Waldow was quick to come up with illustrations. He pointed to my shirt and said, “Look, Jeff put this white shirt in the wash with a red one and now he has a pink shirt.” I’m sure his conservative Prussian background meant he couldn’t understand a man wearing pink.  

Another time, I made some kind of quip about the German composer Wagner. I knew von Waldow was a classical music lover and a big supporter of public radio, but this didn’t get me any extra points. He went off on a tangent about Wagner. The Third Reich had adopted the music of Wagner and he’d heard enough of this music during the war that he never wanted to hear it again. Now, I wonder if the music might have caused him post-traumatic stress.

The room in which we met had a life-sized portrait of a faculty member from either late in the 19th or early 20th century. Oddly, because this wasn’t really a Presbyterian thing, the guy in the portrait wore a clergy collar. One day, out of the blue, von Waldow came into class and began to berate this portrait for wearing a collar. At this time, several of the Lutheran students at the seminary were wearing collars when they preached or worked in church positions. But von Waldow was too conservative for collars. As a Southerner, I sympathized with von Waldow. Collars were too formal for me. I’ve never worn one. 

Around campus, everyone knew that von Waldow was working on his magus opus, a commentary on the prophet Jeremiah. I took a survey class of Hebrew prophets, taught by Dr. Donald Gowan, another Old Testament professor and prolific author. At the opening of each lecture on a different prophet, Gowan provided a list of commentaries he recommended. The day he lectured on Jeremiah, he confessed he had problems with every commentary available at the time. Then, this man whom I had never heard say anything bad about anyone, said, “When my colleague Eberhard publishes his commentary, I’ll have one to recommend.” He paused and then in almost a whisper continued, “Of course, we’ll all be dead by then.” Sadly, von Waldow never finished his commentary and most of his published writings available today are in German.  

In my second year of seminary, at the time I was studying Hebrew, there was campus debate over how frequently to have communion in chapel. Things became comically heated. As a semi-Calvinist, who leaned toward Zwingli, I found this debate to be fodder for satire. But the seminary President became concern and decided it should be discussed. He called for a community townhall. Faculty were ordered to attend. While von Waldow wasn’t happy about it, he followed orders. 

The day after the long campus meeting, von Waldow marched into Hebrew class, dropped his books on the table, and launched into a tirade about the spectacle. 

“That meeting yesterday was the damnest thing I’ve seen.” Then, contradicting himself, he continued, drawing on his war experiences. “I haven’t seen anything like that since the war. Imagine having a 25-ton tank stuck? We had one buried in mud up to the top of the tracks. You’ve never seen such a mess. But we had the Russians shooting at us and had to do something pretty damn fast. The was the only difference between that meeting yesterday and the war was the shooting. We needed someone shooting to have forced a decision so we could all go home.” 

Eberhard von Waldow would continue to teach at the seminary for a few years after I graduated. He died in 2007 at the age of 83. I’m glad to have known him and while I moved theologically away from his higher Biblical criticism as the only way to approach scripture, I am indebted to his teaching. I probably learned as much about preaching in his Hebrew exegesis class as I did in homiletics. I am also in debt to his story, for it could have gone another way. A man of war became a man of peace. I wish he was here to discuss what’s going on in Ukraine, for there was a time in the 1940s, when he commanded 12 tanks across that terrain. 

Looking back, it’s interesting that von Waldow wasn’t the only faculty member to have served in the German army. Dr. Mauser, our dean, served for a brief period in the German army and I should at some point write about my experiences with him. 

Professor von Walton from clips.substack.com

While the memories above are from me, I found these articles on the internet to be useful and insightful:

Bill Steigerward, “The Nazi Take Commander who became an American Peacenik” (this article originally appeared in Pittsburgh newspaper in June, 1994).

Mark J. Englund-Kriger, “In Memory of Professor Eberhard von Waldow”. A blog post from January 8, 2008.

A letter in Horizons in Biblical Theology.  January 1993, this letter was written at the time of von Waldow’s retirement. 

Obituary, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, December 19, 2007