In Memory

Paul watching Sesame Street with Wesley


Today I lost a great friend and mentor. Paul Bowles asked me to serve as youth minister at Bartlesville FUMC when I was in my last term at Hendrix. He had been the Tulsa DS, and I came to his office when I got back from Oxford, engaged to Lara. I told him that I'd be looking for a youth ministry job in the area, so to notify me if he heard of one coming available. I suppose I made a good impression on his secretary, and that turned out in my favor, because she was also his wife, Mary Jane! Paul did hear of a youth ministry job coming available, and it turned out to be at the church that he was being appointed to after coming off the cabinet. Paul and I were on the same wave-length. Once I took the position, Paul gave me his confidence. What a gift to a young, college grad. Over the next two years, he helped to guide me into the track for ministry. We always thought of Paul and Mary Jane as surrogate parents here in Oklahoma, and I know that they thought of us as "adopted kids." When we were weighing the decisions about moving back to Oklahoma from Arkansas, Paul was a wise colleague.

On the drive home from OKC today, I was thinking about the traits that Paul expressed. Paul was measured. He didn't seem to say something without really weighing it in his mind and really saying it. I don't think Paul had to backtrack very much. Paul and Mary Jane were the perfect yin and yang. Paul was more quiet and reserved, Mary Jane is more bubbly and vivacious. Paul did have an infectious little chuckle though.

What I keep thinking of today, what keeps bringing tears to my eyes, was the time that Paul shared with me the wedding liturgy that he wrote for his daughter and her groom. In the midst of him pointing out the different little points and subtle reasons he chose this or that way of saying something, I could tell he was proud of the liturgy, and it really was beautiful and poignant. I suppose what gets me is to know that he shared his pride with me--I suppose when a friend dies, we take some kind of comfort or solace in knowing we were important to that friend. Sharing pride makes us vulnerable, I believe--and that is one instance that lets me know that I was important to him as he was important to me.

For all of you reading this, do me a favor--send a prayer of comfort and healing to Mary Jane and their kids. What a sad loss. What a beautiful life.

First sermon in Morris

Until I get a church blog going here in Morris, this'll be the home of my sermons--
Here was today's--will write later about life in OK

Sermon texts
1 Sam 15:34-16:13
Mark 4:26-34

I hesitated at first to bring to you the Gospel reading today. This is the story that you’ve probably heard of as the mustard seed. It seems that God’s kingdom is not always spectacular and noticeable at first glance—in fact it rarely is. With the parable of the mustard seed, or the pine nut, as Eugene Peterson tells the story in his translation of the Bible that I read from today called the “Message,” we see Jesus comparing the Kingdom to something quite small and unremarkable.
I’m sure you’ve heard it said that “It’s always the last place you look.” I can attest to the truth of this statement, because unpacking boxes creates an enormous amount of mess, and I I’ve spent hours in the last week just looking for things that I had set down a few minutes before. It was only in recent years that I finally got the joke of this saying. Of course it is always the last place you look, because if you find what you’re looking for, you stop looking, right? Even if you find what you’re looking for in the first place you look, it is also the last place you look.
Jesus on several occasions shows us that what we usually don’t notice—what we call small and insignificant—are usually the most potent metaphors for God and God’s glorious kingdom. I hesitated to read this Gospel lesson today because I was just a bit concerned that those of you who helped me unload the U-haul would assume that the opposite might also be true. A 26 foot U-haul full of “stuff” is anything but inconspicuous. Lurching down 3rd street, scraping the branches of trees as I pulled it into our new home, I prayed, “Lord, give these people patience!” To my surprise and delight, we unloaded the van and even set up our bed in less than an hour! While Jesus tells us in the parables that good things come in small packages, I hope that today you might entertain the possibility that in my family’s presence with you here today, good things might also come in big packages too!
From what I’ve been able to tell from the bulletins I’ve seen, this congregation usually only hears one scripture lesson. I’ve been told that we pastors aren’t supposed to change anything in the worship service for at least a few months, and I had at first thought I’d base my sermon solely on the Samuel scripture—but this little pine nut kept coming to mind, and these scriptures go so well together.
Besides—I ride a bicycle okay, but I have never gotten up on a unicycle. Likewise, I need two scriptures to keep a sermon balanced and going in the right direction. With one I might just wobble around and fall on my face. I hope you don’t mind the change—I don’t preach a long time usually, and we’ll probably have room to hear two accounts of God’s story—our story—I think.
What strikes me about both of these scriptures that we heard today is that phrase from the Samuel reading—“the LORD does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart.”
This is so clear in our Scriptures—that God always seems to choose those we’d least expect—Jacob and Joseph, Jonah and Ruth, Peter and Mary, even Jesus and David are unlikely candidates for God’s Spirit to stir within them. We all tend to judge on outward appearances.
Believe me, I’m aware of what my outward appearances are—young, green—and in my case the outward appearances are truly part of who I am—but thank God we have a Father in heaven that sees into our hearts--Sees our hearts not as fist-sized organs for pumping blood, but instead dwelling places large enough for God’s own Spirit!
I think this is why Jesus uses little seeds and little children and little farmers and little birds and flowers to point out the truth of God’s Kingdom. God is so immensely present in all things that sometimes it is the smallest things that give us an insight into who God is. We can wrap our feeble minds around the small things. The kingdom is indeed like a seed. Martin Luther said that the whole universe is infused with the totality of God—he said that even a grain of wheat, designed and brought into being by our creator, contains God’s presence. Meister Eckhart, a 14th century mystic and pastor, said, “Apprehend God in all things
for God is in all things.
Every single creature is full of God
and is a book about God.
Every creature is a word of God.
If I spent enough time with the tiniest creature -
even a caterpillar -
I would never have to prepare a sermon.
So full of God is every creature.
Mark tells us that Jesus gives us the Word as we are able to hear it. It has always been inspiring to me that God wants to be known and loved so much that we are given these stories that are so profound and yet so simple. A farmer casting out seed and then falling asleep—while the kingdom sprouts in his midst without him even knowing how. The kingdom is like that isn’t it?! How many times have you simply said something very offhandedly or perhaps even been unaware of how deeply you have touched someone else? My first year of ministry taught me this humbling parable in my own experience. Every week I struggled to find the right words to convey what I believe God wants me to convey, and then after I would deliver a sermon, I usually forgot about it and moved on to preparing for next week’s sermon—
but later in the week a parishioner might come up to me and tell me how something in particular I had said had really made a difference in their outlook that week. It may have even been something I forgot about saying!
What a gift it is to see the grain ready for the harvest! What a mystery it is to know that a simple smile or gesture of good will can make such a difference to someone.
The inverse is true as well of course, the slightest wag of the tongue, the smallest little whisper of a broken confidence sometimes bears the largest consequences of all—even while we “sleep” and forget about what we have said or done, our carelessness can sometimes spiral out of control.
Saul knew of this carelessness. You might ask yourself why Saul had fallen out of God’s favor—why, as the scriptures tell us, “God regretted ever having made Saul king.” It was just the slightest slip up—God had commanded Saul to conquer and kill the Amelekites—from top to bottom—from the King himself to the scrawniest goat in his Kingdom, and yet Saul had given permission to his warriors to take the choicest livestock as spoils of war.
As the scriptures show us, God loves shepherds—God is a shepherd. But God chooses a shepherd who would lay down his life for his flock, not lay down the lives of others for their flocks. Jesus tells us that he is the kind of Shepherd who would spend all day searching for the tiniest lost lamb, and Saul becomes the kind of shepherd who chooses the best livestock for himself.
Jesus chooses the mustard seed, and Samuel calls in Jesse’s youngest son from the fields where he is tending sheep and anoints him as the next king. Jesus says, “I am the Good Shepherd,” and David is celebrated as a fierce defender of his sheep—an unexpected King who comes out of the pasture to defeat giants and to lead a nation in the worship of God. Who would expect this of a shepherd boy?
Samuel tells us that God doesn’t see as we see, but God looks at a person’s heart. In a sense, Jesus is telling us the same thing with the parable of the mustard seed. The heart of a mustard seed is what it will become—and God doesn’t write off the seed because it is small and inconspicuous.
I have been a pastor for the past year at a small church, so I know that at times we can feel somewhat small and insignificant in comparison to the other more “successful” churches, the churches with so much to offer, the churches with the huge programs and the new buildings. But I can tell you that God chooses us as long as we have a heart for God. I’m not saying that God chooses us and not those big churches, because many of them are doing great things for the glory of God—but what I am saying is that God chooses us in the same measure that God chooses those other places.
God loves to dwell in our hearts, and physical size has no bearing on the size of heart. I can attest to you that in my short encounter with you thus far, I see a heart open to God—I see a pine tree with an Eagle’s nest. In the outpouring of help we have received, in the welcome baskets full of brownies and fresh vegetables and salsa and canned goods, in the pounding of steaks and beef and pound cake and other goods, in the in the ministries and motivation that I have witnessed at this past week’s church council meeting,
it is obvious to me that this church witnesses God’s presence. Being welcoming is a response to God’s grace pouring into and out of a place. Jesus says in the gospel of 7th chapter of John, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let anyone who believes in me drink. And out of the believer’s heart will come rivers of living water.” The Living water is the refreshing, purifying Holy Spirit—and in my opinion the Living water is often experienced as “welcoming.” Judging on our reception here, I would proclaim it as good news that this family of faith has felt the thirst in your throats and has dug the well to the heart of Christ—and that you drink from it and are now spilling over with the Spirit’s presence.
As your pastor, I see it as my calling to remind us of our thirst—remind us that this thirst creates possibilities for others to drink from the living waters which in turn flow out of our hearts.
Thirst causes us to see pine trees in pine nuts—to see shepherd boys as kings. Living this way takes constant hope. It takes a relentless hope in the possibilities of things unseen. But—as we have heard, God sees the things unseen, and God puts stock in mustard seeds, and shepherds, and us! amen

I also messed with this one.

You can see one what one of the geese did to Lao-Tzu's rump. She was pretty humiliated.

Unlikely visitors

This one's taken on an old Holga.

Central Park photo shoot with my sister Haley. He is pretty intelligent, I'd say.

Here's the original. I've used hp image zone to fool with it.

Taking a break and playing with Wesley on the computer. Here we've doctored some photos. This one is "antiqued." I think it looks like it could sit in a photo album from 1978.

Tuesday Drive

A big Uhaul, two cats and a baby boy, and a lot of help. We know the way, but now you do too.

Good one

Diamonds on the Soles of my shoes

I was researching sermon ideas when I saw this photo of the Ascension by Salvador Dali. I was struck and delighted. My sermon will focus on not "gawking up at heaven" as the disciples did, but instead following the feet of Christ.

For the children's sermon, I decided to use the image to talk about my "beautiful feet." Feet are so taboo--I don't know many main-line congregations (including my own) who have the gumption to do an actual foot-washing service these days. I'll talk with the kids about how Isaiah says "How beautiful are the feet on the mountains of the one who brings [the Good News], and how that means my feet are beautiful too. Perhaps I'll talk about how I used to be ashamed of my feet because I had a big gap between my big toe and the rest of my toes--but now I'm proud of them because they bring me places where I can share the good news.
While daydreaming about the sermon, I also thought of a surprise for the kids
I'll show them the bottom of my feet and tell them I drew those crosses to remind me that everywhere I step, Jesus walks with me (name of the sermon is "Jesus Walks"--thanks Kanye). I'll ask them if their feet are beautiful too, then suggest that they carry the Good news that God loves the world--as Jesus asks his disciples to do at the Ascension.

Use it if it helps.
Peace

Balance to biblical lighting zaps

I've always been fascinated and bothered by the story of Elijah going to the mountain and calling down a cosmic meltdown against the Canaanite priests. Here's a story from Daniel that offers another approach to foreign "wise men." God intercedes to save the Chaldeans---
Also, this story reminds me of the scene in Last Temptation of Christ when Jesus tells Pilate, "I am the stone that smashes the clay feet of the statue." Pilate is best played in all cinematic history by David Bowie in this movie. Removed but curious, like he is trifling with the Jews for his own amusement. Perfectly imagined as a Roman governor.

5 reasons I think I'm cool

Here's an interesting tag--Actually, I don't quite know how a tag works, but I've seen the phrase on Katherine's blog and it's usually followed by a list. So here one that I thought of that's sincere and funny, and perhaps revealing. IF you want to try out the list in the comments, or on your own blog--have at it. The idea for this list was sparked when I was trying to get something off my computer that was bugging me, and I noticed that when we had gotten our new computer, I had named it HAL. I had forgotten that I had done that, so when I remembered that I had at one point, I felt really cool. Are there things that you feel are cool about you? I recommend getting them out in the open--it is quite liberating.

1. I named my computer HAL
2. I liked Bottle Rocket when Wes Anderson first gained a following. I remember making my high school friends watch it and feeling really cool that I liked it better than they did, and then Wes Anderson became a fairly respected director.
3. I have a scar on my knuckle where I punched a guy in the tooth in 7th grade gym class. He kept gleeking on me, and I told him to stop or else I'd spit a hawker in his face because I couldn't do it. So, he did and I spit a hawker in his face and hit him in the tooth. That was cool of me. Steve McQueen in training.
4. I've gotten comments lately on my posts--they are from people who I think sound really cool--so that means I must sound really cool.
5. Most of the time I drink plenty of water. I'm healthy.

Hmm, that was interesting. I felt like my ego took a nice, big stretch.

Look how my buddy Chad's stance is mirrored by the tree. I suppose they're both trying not to slide down the hill. This is at a little pull off on the interstate through the Smokies in North Carolina/Tennessee border.

I've always liked this country diner in Ola, Arkansas. I had my camera last time I went to Little Rock.

Champion of cuteness vs. the ugly ducks

Preparing to Confirm

This coming Sunday I'll be baptizing two "tweenagers" and then confirming them and three others in our Sunday service. Look for pix after the event on the church website. This is the third time I've taught or helped to teach confirmation, but the first time I'll be serving the "priestly function." For some reason, confirmation has always seemed very important to me. It is the time when kids take some time to consider an adult decision, and then most likely return to being kids. The event is usually understood better in retrospect, like when the two disciples who walked with Jesus to Emmaus thought after Jesus had disappeared from their midst, "How our hearts burned within us when he was walking with us and opening the scriptures."
With my own confirmation, I remember sitting in my dad's office at Sequoia UMC in Fayetteville. I don't remember much of the content. I remember going to a Shabbat service at the local synagogue and being mystified, then bored when the entirety (or what seemed like the entirety) of the service was conducted in Hebrew. I remember the Rabbi taking the scroll around the small congregation of people, and the way the people's eyes followed the Torah. I remember standing outside after the service was over and seeing a satellite drop out of the sky. I think I remember seeing it so clearly that I could actually make out the shape of the satellite. That's all I remember about confirmation. I don't remember any of the content. I think I actually remember the service when folks in the church lay their hands on me. I remember that being powerful and feeling really good. I remember feeling the pride and prayers of the people there coursing through their hands and into my hair and spine and shoulders. It really is a empowering feeling.
I suppose that's what I'm looking forward to most about this weekend. I hope that my confirmands remember that ritual. They can forget the content of the lessons we have had (I did), and they will probably remember the same things. We'll be visiting a Catholic, Episcopal, and Shabbat service this coming Friday, so they'll probably remember that and the service. Who knows? Maybe something will drop out of the sky and stamp the event in their mind too.

OKLAHOMA

Here's why I haven't posted in so long--We've been in the process of getting information about my new church in Morris, Oklahoma (south of Tulsa and right outside Okmulgee) I just received the directory the other day--looks like a great church with lots of life and fun. I knew I'd fit in when I saw a caption of one of the pictures of the congregation re-painting and carpeting the sanctuary. The picture had a kid painting a wall with a grown up behind him--the caption read, "Paint the fence, Daniel-son." I laughed and then delighted that someone else brings up a Karate Kid reference 20 years after the move came out.
I really like the guy who is presently my DS, but he's moving to Tulsa to a church. He promises that the incoming DS is very competent and even better looking. I like Okies. We had a bang up Easter Sunday--107 in worship--that's the best in years I think. Everyone was really proud of the worship service, and we had a full-blown processional. See the church blog for pix.
Lara and I haven't begun to pack yet--too busy. I recently coordinated a regional conference for the NCC in Little Rock on the subject of Climate change, Creation, and the Church. It was a hoot. And now that we're getting close to 100 degrees in April, I doubt many will find the subject that laughable.