Getting the Message

When I ask you, “Do you get the message?”, your answer will be, “Which one?”  Any of us receives hundreds if not thousands of messages in any given day.  They’re on TV, radio, the newspapers, mailers, and on billboards (thankfully, not too many these days).  They are on the Internet and emails (alas, especially in spam messages).  They are in the voicemail we wade through, and in voicemail.  I just picked up an unsolicited phone call (an automated “robocall”) telling me that “this is the second and final call you’ll receive on how to lower your credit card rate!”  I hope that, indeed, it is the final call, but it won’t be.

            What do we do with these messages?  We answer the ones that are most important to us, or which truly are urgent.  When an item or service is involved, I’ll respond only if I’m ready.  When I taught marketing workshops, I noted the four stages of response to a message.  First, unawareness; second, awareness; third, interest; and fourth, action.

            Yesterday, in preaching about the prophetic call to hear (and, yes, a sermon is another message), I noted that Malachi relayed the word of God when he said, “See, I am sending my messenger ahead to prepare the way.”  John the Baptizer also proclaimed the ancient message from the prophet Isaiah, “Prepare the way of the LORD; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.”  Some people longed for the presence and power of God to meet them in their longing and desire.  Most people, however, were unaware of their need for God’s presence, busy as they were with their daily lives and focused on themselves and their lives.

            And so the prophetic message was spoken then, and so it is now.  The question is, do you and I get the message?  Are others around us getting the message to repent and return to the Lord?

            One piece of advertising that actually has gotten through to me so that I remember it (but won’t purchase the product) is being presented by Verizon FIOS.  Ty Burrell, the actor who plays Phil Dunphy on the TV show Modern Family, is the narrator who says that it’s one thing to get FIOS—but after we get it, only then can we get it.  Only then can we discover all of us features and benefits. 

            Then I heard the prophets in a new way.  They cry out, “Do you get it?”  For only then, they add, will you get the message for your life now and for eternity:  that God loves you and me so deeply that Christ has come into the world and will come again.

            Do we get it?

Day of Infamy

Often, when seeing video clips of Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s presidency, his address to Congress on the event of Pearl Harbor stands out.   His opening words ring out for all time.  “Yesterday, December 7th, 1941—a date which will live in infamy—the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.” 

            Every generation in every culture has a “day of infamy.”—an event of great tragedy which changes one’s views about life here and a Greater Life.  For many in our time, the events of September 11, 2001 mark a day that will live in infamy.  For others, the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, or the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. had a profound impact on what we consider to be the most important elements of life. 

            So too, each of us can have a day that will live in personal infamy.  For some, the death of a loved one, especially in a violent or sudden way, changes life forever for the survivors.  For others, job loss or a major fire or a natural disaster can have the same impact.

            To trust in a God of all creation is essential—One who can save us from ourselves in a fallen universe—can bring us great assurance.  At the same time, God is within that infamy to hold us and bring us through the challenges.  After all, the greatest day of infamy was the death of Christ on the Cross.  For in that utter sadness, God also paved for us the way for glory in the Resurrection.  Christ alive is the final word for all people and for all time.

            On 9/11, I was scheduled to conduct a prayer service for the typical Tuesday mornings as chaplain at Proctor Endowment Home in Peoria, Illinois.  We gathered at 10:00 a.m., barely two hours after the first plane slammed into the World Trade Center in New York.  The room was jammed with people.  Staff members were weeping in shock.  The residents, however, sat stoically and prayerfully. 

After the service, in which I preached of the power of God’s steadfast love in the midst of the times of trial, some of the residents said to me, “Yes, this is terrible.  But we remember December 7^th.”  And they remembered also the incredible blessings God bestowed on them and on this nation after the victories in 1945.  That day, I learned that, when one fully trusts in God in the midst of infamy, so God truly will prevail in victory.  We will receive blessings—if we are willing to be blessed rather than to cling to bitterness.

Jolly Old St. Nicholas?

When I was a child, my Dad always went to the tire dealer and purchased the annual Firestone Christmas Album.  My brothers and sister always had fun listening to it and, ultimately, singing along.

            One of those songs was “Jolly Old St. Nicholas” sung by the wonderful French crooner Maurice Chevalier.  I still remember his delightful opening words in a thick accent: 
Jolly Old St. Nicholas, lean your ear this way; don’t you tell a single soul what I’m going to say.  Christmas Eve is coming soon; now, you dear old man, whisper what you’ll bring to me, tell me if you can.”  And then the list of suggestions followed.

            Somewhere along the way, St. Nicholas became confused with Santa Claus, and St. Nicholas Day and Christmas Day were alike.  About the only similarity between the two is that both of them love children—especially if they are nice rather than naughty.

            St. Nicholas actually is a far better example to follow than Santa.  Or maybe the better statement is that Santa is a much-reduced figure than Nicholas of Myra, especially in girth (Santa is far greater, I am sure).  So this day is much more important to demonstrate the spirit of giving.

            Nicholas of Myra (a city in modern-day Turkey) was a bishop of the Church who showed great love and care for children and for the poor.  I imagine that he was most mindful of poor children who otherwise had no opportunity to live meaningful lives.  He reminds us of the importance of looking after the needs of children in every circumstance.  Children are so vulnerable.  And they are most valuable to us adults for all that they can teach us about what each of us really is—a child of God.

            Nicholas also was deeply devoted to the care for sailors.  Living here in Hampton Roads, I have become so much more aware of sailors, enlisted in the armed forces as well as those who are on freighters and cruise ships.  Having been a chaplain on an ocean liner as well as a recreational sailor, I am particularly grateful to Nicholas for his care for these persons on the waters.

            In the end, I think of Nicholas as “jolly” and know that Maurice Chevalier really understood the meaning of that word.  After all, it is French in origin.  It means “lovely” or “beautiful.”  We get another word from jolly:  the word joy.”  Nicholas shows us that, when we serve in Jesus name, we can count it all for joy.

The Thoughtful Christian

When I am in a conversation and doing a lot of listening, the other will ask, “So what do you think?”  That’s a good question.  The person believes that there may be another point of view.  There may be another perspective.  After all, there is not just one way to think, even (or especially) in matters of faith.

            There’s another question, and a more important one.  In my college education, one of the most valuable lessons I learned was to be able to think critically and carefully.  The question in a conversation, then, is more than what I think.  More than that, it’s how I think.  We need much more critical and careful thinking in our culture.

            Today, in the church calendar, we remember Clement of Alexandria.  He is one of the most intelligent of all of the saints.  Born of Greek parents and steeped in the teachings of Plato and Aristotle, he moved to Alexandria (Egypt, not Virginia) and opened his own school of philosophy.  Around the year 190, he accepted the teachings of Christian disciples and committed his life to Christ.

            It was then that he devoted his intellectual powers to the Gospel.  While many disciples were in the streets and shops sharing their faith in Christ, Clement focused his attention on the academy.  He wanted to shape the intellectual leaders and philosophical discussions of his day.  He sought not just information and ideas, but Wisdom and Truth as it became real in Jesus Christ.

            He accomplished two things that have shaped the Church ever since.  First, he challenged those who said that any way of knowing a Greater Power.  To these teachers, called Gnostics, they said that there was no way for God to take human form.  Clement countered that claim by saying that real Truth in human life could be known only by knowing Christ.  He asked these teachers, not what they thought, but how they thought—and how they could deny Christ in life.

            Clement also shaped another amazing teacher, Origen, who did even more to challenge the thinking of the day.  God was in Christ, reconciling the world to the divine.  He showed us not what to think about that claim, but how to think about God’s love for us.

            As a priest, I try constantly to help people get the information straight as we find it in the Scriptures.  Then I want to work with them to develop their reason.  I want them to learn how to think about the biblical message and the presence of Christ in life.  Thank you, Clement, for giving us such a great example of what it means to be a thoughtful Christian.

Priest on Purpose

Today marks the 31^st anniversary of my ordination as an Episcopal priest.  I am grateful to God that I am wiser for the journey.  Happy to say, I am just as excited about this ministry as the day when Bishop Montgomery of Chicago laid his hands on my head, joined by priests of the diocese.

That’s how the Holy Spirit works together with the great Anglican tradition of Scripture, tradition and reason.  Experience, reflected upon, adds so much to my understanding of the purpose of ordained ministry.  During this time of search for the place and people to and with whom I am called to be on the next stage of this journey, I have come to a much better understanding of who I am as a priest and a leader in the life of a parish and in the wider Church.

Rather than being set apart for ministry as a priest, I have been set within.  And what am I to be and to do?  I am to be a model and mentor and guide to help God’s people discover the mighty ministries to which they have been called as the people of God.

In the last few says, I have returned to an insightful song by the Christian musician and songwriter Twila Paris.  In her project called Sanctuary, she penned a song about her journey in ministry, and titled it “Keeper of the Door.”  She wrote that it did not matter that her name was in lights or that her music was there for all to hear.  What really mattered was that, in her ministry, she could be a “keeper of the door” to help people enter God’s sanctuary.

Her refrain sums up my understanding of who I am and what I do as one ordained by God as a priest. “Oh, let me be a servant, a keeper of the door My heart is only longing to see forever more The glory of Your presence the dwelling of the Lord Oh, let me be a servant, a keeper of the door.”

       What a privilege it is to serve God in this way.  Deo gratias.