“The devil, the originator of sorrowful anxieties and restless troubles, flees before the sound of music almost as much as before the Word of God....Music is a gift and grace of God, not an invention of men. Thus it drives out the devil and makes people cheerful. Then one forgets all wrath, impurity, and other devices.” Martin Luther
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Heavenly Father you gave your son that whoever believes in His name inherit eternal life. Help our disbelief in the midst of things that we cannot understand. Grant us your grace that we may trust in you when faith is the hardest act of all. Amen.
My wife and I, recently, went to the movie "Life of Pi." It was an excellent movie and equally excellent book that posed some good theological questions. Especially good for people living in a post modernist age. The "Life of Pi" is told by Pi a man from India to an author. It tells the tale of Pi's life starting in India and stretching to the present day. As a young man Pi was born into a Hindu family and he was satisfied with that spirituality until he experienced a conversion to Catholicism at about 13. Then a little while later he, also, embraces Islam. Spiritually he sees no conflict in practicing these three religions as he finds something useful in each. In time Pi's life is caught up in the broad swipes of catastrophic events which start with his father deciding to move the family from India because of an economic downturn that has made it impossible to continue running the zoo his family has run in a hotel garden. During the journey the rest of the family is lost at sea as the ship they are on sinks in a storm. In the telling of the tale Pi finds himself on a lone lifeboat stranded with an orangutang, a zebra, and Robert Parker, a Bengal Tiger. The struggle for survival that follows is an amazing journey of the miraculous and Pi's will to live and ingenuity. In the end after months of days at sea. Pi and Robert Parker are the only two survivors that reach the Mexican coast. Continuing his story Pi is visited by two Japanese lawyers for the shipping company who are seeking to determine liability for the the sinking of the company's ship. It becomes clear that the tell ing of the story at sea with all of its astonishing twists and turns has been the telling to these two men. They are in complete disbelief and say it must have been different and cannot have happened that way. Pi then tells them another much more mundane version about the life without the animals and instead only his mother, an injured sailor and the cruel and evil cook from the ship with him. The cook had killed the sailor and Pi's mother in a tale that included cannibalism and the harshest of inhuman threats and behavior. This tale is equally unacceptable and even more horrid to the lawyers. Realizing that Pi does not have any answers to their issues of liability as to "why" the ship sank they prepare to leave but before they go one asks Pi which of the stories was true. Pi's response is "Which did you like better, which do you want to believe?" President Obama attended the community memorial service for the victims of the Sandy Hook Elementary School shootings on Sunday evening. Participating in the program were representatives from various communities of faith and religion ranging from Roman Catholic to Baha'i. The diversity of traditions was broad from Roman Catholic to Protestant, Episcopal to Baptist, Judaism to Islam, B'Hai and Unitarian, and philosophies from the most liberal to most conservative. All these came together as a single community religious and secular with local, state and federal governments, including President Obama. All from the highest to the lowest intentionally seated on the floor of the auditorium to emphasize the equality of all in this tragedy. Like Pi all these individuals and these traditions each attempt to grasp and to share their own understanding of the human story and its connection to what many call the sacred and divine. Despite their differences and the story each has come to embrace as defining of life and its greatest questions they accepted an equality in the face of tragedy that not one could have conceived imminent and taken action to stop. All experienced the fragileness of life and the power of loss. They were all touched by the humanity of finiteness. In world of finite human beings can we make room for the events of Sandy Hook, or more accurately the events following the tragedy of Sandy Hook, to define our public life together of people of different faiths and different stories. Can we allow for the possibility our own faith story can be strengthened by hearing and valuing the story of others. The story of 3.3 million Hindu gods does not change the orthodoxy of my Christianity under the Lutheran Confessions. Being Lutheran is who I am all the way to my inner most core. Simply said the Lutheran telling of the story of Christ and how it speaks to life and shapes me and my living work is a story I can tell. To you. To others. I believe in the authority of scripture and that it is all true. Not always in a literal reading of the surface of the Bible words, but more true than either history or metaphor. Often it is hard work to dig and to sort out the meanings of texts 2000+ years old and to make sure that authority is used wisely and rightly in the telling of the story. And when that story becomes others' story, too, I celebrate. I celebrate when they risk baptizing infants not knowing how and where the child's story will grow. I celebrate when we come together eating and drinking simple gifts of bread and wine believing it is the fullness of God's body and blood because Jesus says it is so. I celebrate it when I annoint the sick with oil and when I speak the promises of God to the dying. Is my life so filled and shaped by my story that it becomes compelling to you. The last question is do I believe enough in my story to allow you to have your story, too? Or must my proselytizing and sharing the story be at the expense of your story. The question is not whether I agree with your story but can I at least allow it to be yours. Pi found power in three different stories each of which and all of which informed and shaped his life and gave him strength and awe in the face of the struggles and uncertainty of life. I am not that sophisticated, I am a simply Lutheran preacher but I, too, have my story. So tell me. What story do you believe? Which makes your life better? Holy Comforter, Wonderful Counselor, Prince of Peace, bring hope to our hearts in these days of darkness. Give peace and steadfast faith that you hold every child and adult in perfect and holy healing. Amen.
The following is my January coverletter for the Messiah Herald. “'Comfort, O comfort my people,' says the Lord.” These words come to us from the prophet Isaiah, specifically, deutero-Isaiah, and are words spoken to the people from Judah in the Babylonian captivity. They are words spoken to give comfort to a people far from home and scattered in the captivity. They are words promising that Yahweh has not forgotten his people and that he will sustain them in their captivity and even return them to Jerusalem to rebuild the Temple. In time when Cyrus conquered Babylon the Jews were allowed to return to Jerusalem. Israel’s history of trusting in the promises of God despite struggles and suffering in the present has a long, long history. Those same words are a part of our tradition as Christians, as well. The promises of God to the people of Israel and Judah were understood by the early church to have been fulfilled in the person of Jesus of Nazareth and were used to interpret and define his birth, life, and death. Today we have been grafted into the stump of Jesse and join God’s Chosen People in long tested waiting as we wait for Christ’s return, Messiah for Jew and Gentile. God will not forget the people and families of Newtown, Connecticut. We may cry out where is God and wonder why he did not stop the chaos and the destruction of these precious young lives and those given to their care but the truth is that God has rarely stopped people when in hate and evil they sought to strike out against God’s will. The birth of Moses and Jesus resulted in immeasurable loss of young life. We have just remembered their loss in the Festival of the Holy Innocence. The history of humanity is rife with actions striking out to destroy others, including the smallest. In spite of that the people of God have responded again and again with faith and caring for the survivors and those who have borne the greatest loss. It is in that moment of people responding and caring person for person that God is present in divine will that bends towards life and love at great cost. "Whenever you did this for the least of these you did it for me," says Christ in Matthew 25. And so we still do. Scripture tells us that God so loved the world that he gave his only Son to die for it. Think of that in the context of Newtown. God did not even spare the unjust death of the one and only Son as too great a price to bring us and the people of Newtown some comfort. God knows and has shared our pain, Jesus knew grief and wept at the loss of his friend Lazarus and in raising Lazarus from the dead gave us a fore taste of the promises we still cling to in the face of every evil. As we continue in the Christmas season and onto the Epiphany of Christ revealed let us hold steadfast onto the story and the promises of God as God’s people have always done. Thanks be to God for the grace that gives us hope. “Feelings come and feelings go,
And feelings are deceiving; My warrant is the Word of God-- Naught else is worth believing. Though all my heart should feel condemned For want of some sweet token, There is One greater than my heart Whose Word cannot be broken. I'll trust in God's unchanging Word Till soul and body sever, For, though all things shall pass away, HIS WORD SHALL STAND FOREVER!” Martin Luther “There comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular, but he must take it because his conscience tells him it is right....” Martin Luther
“You have as much laughter as you have faith.” Martin Luther
Gracious God you bless every generation with new life in vulnerable infants like your Son, Jesus. You teach us to bring our children to you. In the end you teach us through them and rend open our hearts with their honesty and love. That is the greatest gift of all. Amen.
I need to share with you what happened during my "children's" sermon at our family service last night. It connects deeply to the events of the last two weeks. Every year I give to the children at the Christmas Eve service some small gift. It is often an ornament, one year a bell like in Polar Express, other years a small Chrismon, or a candy cane, whatever fits my message for the evening. This year I decided I would not give them a present and would attempt to focus their thoughts on the importance of giving freely to others who are vulnerable and in need. I began with the usual warm up of getting the kids to say something loud. Last night I got them to shout out Merry Christmas. I then told the kids I would not have the usual Christmas gift for them this year. All was cool. I started talking with them by asking them what was the best Christmas present they ever received. After a couple of moments of shy hesitation as they tried to figure out what I was after one young girl said, "Jesus." I thanked her for cutting out 10 minutes of my message but assured while she was right I wasn't looking for that type of gift yet. Much laughter all around. The ice broken, another little boy quickly said his new baby brother who is just two weeks old. More laughter. We, finally, settle down to their more typical Christmas presents and someone says a Wii, and another a favorite doll. I tell about my personal favorite including how my brothers and I had to wait on the stairs until my parents called us downstairs at 6:00 am. One kid says he can't get up until 8 or9:00 am and I tell him I'm impressed with his parents because they must be really, really strong. More laughter. I tell them about getting my best present an American Flyer and going sledding on fresh snow that Christmas. I always try to spend time playing for a bit with the kids in children's sermons and a little more on Christmas Eve. It is part of helping them to know that the church is a safe place and is their place, not just for adults or others. Then I turned to the core of the message. I asked them if they thought they had enough gifts. They all immediately nodded yes. I looked to the girl who had said Jesus was the greatest gift and told her thank you for remembering that for us as Christians that Jesus was indeed the greatest gift and that he had given us a second great gift and that it was the chance to join him in giving. I told them that in place of giving them a gift this year that together we would make a gift to help someone else. I told them I had four choices for them: 1) the local food pantry; 2) the local meals on wheels program; 3) Heifer International who helps people world wide to be able to develop self sustaining livelihoods; 4) someone or something of their choice. I asked them did they have any ideas. Immediately, a hand shot up and when I asked her idea she said something for the school kids in Sandy Hook and other kids nodded and reacted with enthusiasm. Quickly, I moved on to a vote and after a couple of stray votes for the first three options there was a united and unanimous excited vote for 4. Without any seeding or encouragement from adults including myself the kids thought of and chose to make a gift for the children in Sandy Hook. I could never have asked the kids to do this because my connection to CT and the events in Sandy Hook are far too personal. Sometimes when you give yourself to the kingdom of God wonderful and unexpected gifts are discovered in the giving. Merry Christmas. I have a new best Christmas present ever. Sorry for the length but I thought that all of you needed to know that in a small church in PA there are kids who are thinking about your kids or grand kids and want to do something for them. Merry Christmas and blessings to all of you. Were earth a thousand times as fair
Beset with gold and jewels rare She yet were far too poor to be A narrow cradle, Lord, for Thee. --Martin Luther Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree. Martin Luther
Living Word of God, you speak and chaos is transformed into order and light shines in the dark. Speak to us through the words of the stories of Israel and of Christ so that we may believe and be healed. Comfort, O Comfort your people and speak tenderly to us in your grace. Amen.
The last two months have been devastating for so many lives in the northeast. At the end of October people from New Jersey to Connecticut had their lives completely upended by the destruction wrought by Hurricane Sandy. The loss, pain and struggle involved in such a broad area is hard to put in perspective for its scale. The events of the last few days, however, in contrast to scale of Sandy have been just as devastating and more in the focus of their impact on one small community, one small school, individual families. The events of Sandy Hook come all the way down to an intimacy every family can comprehend and fear. I have no words words right now that can adequately express the events of the last three days in Connecticut. The tragedy of the events at Sandy Hook Elementary School are too raw, too visceral, to be adequately expressed by the normal words of discourse. My throat literally aches and is bruised from the tension of the past 48 hours. Although I have made my life in Central Pennsylvania for the last 30 plus years I still have deep roots in my home state of Connecticut. Most times when I drive to and from my folks home in Branford, CT I drive down Route 25 through the center of Newtown. It is the prototypical small town New England hamlet with houses dating all the way back to the 1700s; a time by which some of my ancestors had already been in Connecticut for 100 years. My Connecticut Yankee roots grow deep. I cannot begin to anticipate the feelings I will experience the next time I drive down Route 25. Twice before I have received phone calls from home in Connecticut telling me of friends and family whose lives have been touched by shootings there. The first was the Connecticut Lottery shootings in 1998 when a close friend of my brothers and myself was shot and killed by a disgruntled employee while he tried to help save others . That was the first time I felt this bruising in my throat. It remained for days. The second was when I received a call from my parents because my cousin had shot and killed her daughter. My cousin had a marginal 70 IQ and her whole life had been marked by the developmental challenges surrounding that. At the time her daughter who was similarly challenged was struggling with school because of the kind of pain that can be inflicted on those who are different by young children. My cousin had sought out assistance from others but the desperation she was experiencing was never heard by various professionals. Finding no help and no way to deliver her daughter from her suffering my cousin chose the unimaginable and tragic path of buying a gun intending to take her daughters life and her own. The first shot that took her daughter's life created such a shocking scene nothing like the scenes on TV that it jolted my cousin to her senses and she ran to a neighbor's for help. This is the briefest of details but it once again resulted in that same aching and bruised throat I had felt before. Today and for a considerable time there will be hundreds of throats in Newtown that will be so bruised. Pain will surge with every difficult swallow. And for many voices will simply dry up and only the weakest of words will be forced out expressing the pain and the fear of what has happened. It is in such moments that the strength and power of words of faith speak for those who cannot speak. Words that assert the boldest of confessions in the face of a world where a descent into chaos can appear to wash all life away in an instant. Comfort, O Comfort your people writes Isaiah. Words that we will read from pulpits and sing in the words of Handel's Messiah in our Christmas celebrations. Some say that words are cheap, but for the believer these words of God's comforting grace are among the most expensive ever spoken. These words were the Isaiah's words of hope given to a people is exile who had lost everything they knew. Torn out of their homes in Judah they were taken to Babylon. The exiles thought that they had been cut off from their God. "How can we sing the Lord God's song in a strange land," was their lament. To these people God spoke a word of comfort. But it did not come quickly but still the people held onto the words for decades and even centuries as new generations found themselves in similar periods of oppression across centuries and millenia. The words of Isaiah and the Old Testament have been used to define the story of Jesus of Nazareth. In Jesus birth and in his death it was Isaiah's words that were used again and again to define his life. Emmanuel, God with us, Jesus was born into a world of political conflict. Immediately, Herod attempts to wipe out the nascent king and the threat to Herod's throne. Every male up to two years old in the kingdom is ordered killed. Echoes of Moses define the child through the deaths of innocent children. The scale dwarfs even the loss of Newtown but the pain of parents and the living is always the same. It is a pain that King David knew. It is a pain that Martin Luther knew. In the end we are told that Jesus of Nazareth, the only Son of God died, too. Not as a child but as a young man. He, too, died an unjust death, tortured and crucified in the presence of his friends and mother. God has shared our pain to the very depths of the human experience. When the scriptures speak to us of suffering, comfort and hope they are not empty words and they costly indeed. We are broken saints. (To be continued...) |
Pastor Bill Esborn
Pastor of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America for 30 years and, finally, coming of age after six decades of living by the power of water and the Word. Archives
September 2015
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