Seven Ways to Practice Resurrection

Hearts Ablaze

Third Sunday after Easter

Luke 21:21-35

Rev’d G. Travis Norvell

The sermon series on the seven deadly sins was great fun to prepare, write, and deliver for you. I especially liked to hear the college students who walked by and add their two cents on the sins as they were advertised on the marquee. I even saw some tourists stand in front of the banner to get their picture taken on one occasion. It was easy to access and pull sources on the sins, there are musical scores written on each sin, books devoted to each sin, and movies galore on each sin. There is a story as to how the sins moved from Constantinople, to Egypt to the west. But now it is time to move on from sin to virtue. But there is a problem. There is not a corresponding list to the Seven Deadly Sins. There is a list of the seven heavenly or cardinal virtues but they are not nearly as concrete or historical. The list at best is a combination of Greek and New Testament ideals. The four virtues of ancient Greece: prudence, justice, temperance, and courage and the three that remain from Paul’s letter to the church at Corinth: faith, hope, and love.

The list just doesn’t reach out and grab you like the seven deadly sin, the seven cardinal virtues aren’t the least bit sexy. Yet, they are necessary if we are going to change the world.

I know the name E. Glen Hinson is a familiar name to some of you. If he is not, add him to your list of authors and people you need to get to know more about. Hinson is the reason I am a pastor, still Baptist, and not a monk. In every class I took of his he always ended the semester with an appeal of what the world and church needs most. He would say what the world and the church needs most are saints. Not brilliant professors, not princes in the pulpits, or large financial backers in the pews but saints. He had a broad, obviously Anabaptist view of sainthood, which he defined as people with six qualities (qualities he adapted from Douglas Steere, another name for your list)

1. Saints are persons whose lives have been irradiated by Divine Grace and have put themselves at God’s disposal.

2. Saints are persons who seek not to be safe but to be faithful.

3. Saints are persons who have learned to get along in adversity

4. Saints are joyful people.

5. Saints are kindlers and purifiers of the dream.

6. Saints are prayerful.[i]

Simple but difficult.

Christianity does not ask us to be the best at anything it only asks us to be good, to be virtuous or from another angle, to practice resurrection. Being good or being virtuous may not resonate without but I hope in the shadow of the Easter you will take up the challenge and call to practice resurrection. I think that is what saints, the virtuous ones, do they practice resurrection.

In the gospel lesson this morning Cleopas and his unnamed companion were on the road to Emmaus, they were on their way back home. When I read this story I can only imagine they had given up. They had walked with Jesus for an undisclosed amount of time and it was fantastic, life changing but then…Jesus was executed. Rome wasn’t playing around anymore and maybe they shouldn’t be playing around anymore either, it was time to head back home.

The time was the evening of the Resurrection. Cleopas and his travel mate had heard the astonishing tale but maybe just maybe it was too much, they were going home. But Jesus met them on the way, concealed his identity, and playfully watched what unfolded.

What follows is, in my mind, the greatest dialogue in scripture and the greatest rhetorical question in scripture, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know these things that have taken place in there in these days?” Jesus asked them, “What things?” They replied, the things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people…” What follows next is one of the sneakiest tricks in all of scripture, Luke, decided not to include how Jesus interpreted all of the things about himself beginning with Moses and all of the prophets. Can you imagine that conversation? Can you imagine what those words must have been? Is there somewhere buried in the desert of Egypt the gospel of Cleopas, a written account of Jesus’ self interpretation?

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter.

Why because Luke said so! Luke brushes off the interpretation for an even bigger event. “As they came near the village to which they were going, Jesus walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, ‘Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight.”

The verbs say it all, took, blessed, broke, and gave. It was communion for sure. But it was something even deeper than communion, they, Cleopas and his unidentified companion, were practicing resurrection. Even though they thought the Jesus movement was over, even though they were heading back home, they welcomed a stranger, offered him a place to stay and broke bread with him. The text hints that Jesus was testing the disciples, he went ahead as if he were going on, even Jesus did not know what the two would do. Would they say happy travels? Or would they welcome him? They welcomed him, their action warmed Jesus’ heart to such a temperature that he took the normal elements of a meal, transformed the moment into communion, and revealed himself to them. They were willing to practice resurrection with or without Jesus.

This evening, right before the time our eyes begin to water because we know Jazz Fest is about to conclude, I hope to take my progeny and nudge our way forward in the WWOZ Jazz tent so they, and I, can see Sonny Rollins. I love Sonny Rollins and I want to my kids years from now to say they saw Sonny Rollins at Jazz Fest. In just a few years I will explain to them why I love the way Sonny Rollins approaches music and how Sonny Rollins provided me with the ultimate way of practicing resurrection. In an interview one time a reporter asked Rollins to describe the way he practices and approaches music. First he responded in such a way that every jazz musician has to respond, to dispel the usual jazz myth that a jazz musician does not practice since it is all improvisation. Rollins said as a jazz musician I practice and practice and practice, I constantly practice, I practice scales, I practice chord progressions, and will frequently practice classical music for feel. He went on. I practice for hours on end, then when I perform…I forget it all. For Rollins the music, the intimations of sound, the silence between notes, the movements of the rhythm all become part of who he is. He is no longer practicing or performing a piece that he has forgotten, he is now sharing a piece of himself with the world. I want my kids to see and feel that tonight. I want them to see resurrection in practice.[ii]

For Cleopas and his unnamed partner they had forgotten the way Jesus had taught them for it was now a part of who they were. They talked to the stranger, invited him to bed with them, and shared their provisions. They were practicing resurrection as part of their lives.

Over the summer and into the Fall I will be asking each of you to share your personal hopes and dreams for this congregation. I will be launching a church wide initiative for how to obtain critical mass. And I will be asking every committee, every member, every chronic visitor, anyone who crosses the threshold to commit to one vision for this congregation. I will ask you to sacrifice a Saturday morning or two, to be patient, to compromise, and coalesce around central vision for this church. I think and feel that we have an honest shot at new life. This vision will be a combination of goals for finding and nurturing new members and creative usage of our space. Imagine if the crowd we had on Easter was every Sunday, think of how numbers would change the way we offer church. Imagine if we could locate a long-term tenant that could pay for maintenance, deferred maintenance, insurance and utility costs of the building. Imagine if we could shift our energy into great ministry opportunities rather than worrying ourselves silly how much we are in the red for the month?

This vision is not about institutional or building preservation. Instead it is about the assured continuation of a virtuous community. Instead it is about the assuring another generation practices resurrection. That will be our legacy.

After this Sunday we will sadly watch as many of our college students return home, or travel for further studies, or begin new chapters in their lives somewhere other than here. I hope, wherever they go, they take some part of this congregation with them, I hope we have gotten under their skin and into their hearts. As we look forward to future growth realize that one component of our growth will be college students and transient worshippers. Part of our mission is to nurture them while they are here. To offer hospitality, to practice resurrection. About once a month I either receive an email, a letter, or a phone call from a former member. Each inquiry is different but each share two commonalities, one they want to know who I am and second they want to tell me how much they loved their time at this church. This congregation does not illicit casual feelings or sentimentalities but visceral reactions to the love they found here. But we cannot rest on our past sharing of love, our past commitment to justice, or our past practice of resurrection. We must continue and expand our current practices.

Being church or practicing resurrection is akin to gardening. It is never done. It is constant, there are bugs to remove, weeds to pull, manure to spread, watering, and harvesting. Practicing resurrection is never done, it is constant. We have to learn and relearn how to pray, we have to teach others how to pray, we have to learn and relearn how to read the Bible and to teach others the old old stories of Jesus and his love. We have to learn an relearn how to advocate for justice and to teach others what biblical justice is. We have to learn and relearn how to practice resurrection and to teach others how to practice resurrection.

In the broadest terms what I am saying is that we have to be and become a mothering community one who gives birth, nurtures and sustains life. My home church, FBC St. Albans I often wonder how some would react if they could see me now, I am not confident they would be satisfied with me. I am sure the deacons would not approve of my conduct or words from the pulpit. If the church were to ask me where did I get these ideas and practices I would simply respond I learned them all from you. For some odd reason the people at the FBC of St. Albans took a liking to me and loved me into a new creation. (name removed for privacy), not knowing that many in the church questioned her sexual orientation and therefore kept her at arms length, I simply knew as the older woman who always gave me a hug, always encouraged me, and always told me God loved me. (name removed for privacy), the oldest man in the congregation, he was also the funniest. He loved baseball and traveling. Why a 16 year old and a 97 year old got along so well I’ll never know. He shared the story of taking a flat bottom wooden boat from St. Albans to New Orleans, about his personal love and devotion of the Cincinnati Reds, one afternoon shortly after his wife of 75+ years died he broke down in tears and asked me to come again at a later date, he also shared that if you cant laugh in church or if the good news does not make you smile, then it aint worth having. I was not a project they took on, I was simply the one that received their love, their practice of resurrection. They were my midwifes as I was born again.

I want the kids and youth of this congregation to have the same experiences of love. I hope they are loved the same way. I want the practice of resurrection to be such a part of their lives that they forget it, that their practice is simply who they are.

Over the hot months I will offer seven ways we can practice resurrection. I hope they are the bedrock of our common vision for new growth and life. I hope they are the living well that nourishes and sustains our life. I hope they are the challenging words that illuminates our pursuit of the virtuous life, the saintly life the practice of resurrection.

I would like to close in two fashions. A poem and a piece of prose. First a poem by Wendell Berry who has provided the series title. The poem is Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front from 1973.

Love the quick profit, the annual raise, vacation with pay.

Want more of everything made.

Be afraid to know you neighbors and to die.

And you will have a window in your head.

Not even your future will be a mystery any more.

Your mind will be punched in a card and shut away in a little drawer.

When they want you to buy something they will call you.

When they want you to die for profit they will let you know.

So, friends, every day do something that won't compute.

Love the Lord. Love the world. Work for nothing.

Take all that you have and be poor.

Love someone who does not deserve it.

Denounce the government and embrace the flag.

Hope to live in that free republic for which it stands.

Give you approval to all you cannot understand.

Praise ignorance,

for what man has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.

Invest in the millennium.

Plant sequoias.

Say that your main crop is the forest that you did not plant,

that you will not live to harvest.

Say that the leaves are harvested when they have rotted into the mold.

Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.

Put your faith in the two inches of humus that will build under the trees

every thousand years.

Listen to carrion--put your ear close,

and hear the faint chattering of the songs that are to come.

Expect the end of the world.

Laugh. Laughter is immeasurable.

Be joyful though you have considered all the facts.

So long as women do not go cheap for power,

please women more than men.

Ask yourself: Will this satisfy a woman satisfied to bear a child?

Will this disturb the sleep of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.

Lie easy in the shade. Rest your head in her lap.

Swear allegiance to what is nighest your thoughts.

As soon as the generals and politicos can predict the motions

of your mind, lose it.

Leave it as a sign to mark the false trail, the way you didn't go.

Be like the fox who makes more tracks than necessary,

some in the wrong direction.

Practice resurrection.[iii]

The prose is the close of one of Glen Hinson’s lectures that he included in a chapter of one of his books,

“The church and the world needs saints. They need saints more than they need more canny politicians, more brilliant scientists, more grossly overpaid executives and entrepreneurs, more clever entertainers and talk-show hosts. Are there any on the horizon now that Mother Teresa is no longer with us, either of the extraordinary or of the ordinary kind? I think there are. Maybe I should say that there are saints ‘aborning’ by God’s grace. There are those whose lives have been irradiated by God’s grace, who seek to be safe but faithful, who have learned to get along in adversity, who are joyful, who are dream filled, and, above all, who are prayerful. That is what the church and the world need most. It begins with you.”[iv]

Brother and sisters let us strive for the virtuous life, the life of power used for the mending of creation and the new birth of our community. Brothers and sisters let us strive for the saintly life as we seek to change the world and this church. Brothers and sisters with Easter at our back let us simply practice resurrection.

Amen & Amen.

---

[i] See p. 183 Spiritual Preparation for Christian Leadership by E. Glenn Hinson. Also see, On Beginning from Within by Douglas Steere.

[ii] See The Jazz of Preaching by Kirk B. Jones.

[iii] See The Country of Marriage by Wendell Berry

[iv] See Hinson, page 195.

As the Crow Flies

First some sermon leftovers.

1. The book mentioned yesterday from the sermon was Brother to a Dragonfly by Will D. Campbell. I bet you can find copies in town at the local book shops (I am told it was part of the summer reading at Newman and Tulane a few years ago).

2. Yes, I did use the phrase "sloppy agape." It was a phrase the late Dr. Werner Lemke used one time in his class on Jeremiah.

Moving on...

Rumor has it that one day Edgar Allan Poe exited a train at the depot and walked the half mile or so to a boarding house in my hometown, while staying there a crow lighted on his window providing the inspiration for his most famous poem. The rumor goes on to state that Mr. Poe composed The Raven at the boarding house. Although the story is plausible, the house was a boarding house during Poe's life time and many people did stay over en route to other destination but I do not believe this story. I grew up with crows in St. Albans, WV not ravens.

I have never cared too much for crows over the years they have pulled up my onions, ruined my corn, and spread my compost pile all over my yard. On Monday my disdain for crows was heightened.

Monday morning I decided to begin working on my New Orleans induced addition by going out for a jog. The food of this city is amazing and wonderful but terrible for my waistline. So I took back up one of my favorite and relaxing exercises: jogging. It will take me a few weeks to get back to my Rhode Island form of 30 miles a week but I'll get there.

I began my journey by turning down Neron St. towards Palmer Park. A few blocks onto Neron a crow began cawing at me. I looked up and saw the most bizarre crow sight ever. A crow was looking me in the eye while his wings were fully stretched and feathers pluffed. He was cawing up a storm. I thought crazy crow, then it happened just like out of Hitchcock movie. The damn thing came after me! It started diving at my head. I kept jogging and the crow kept after me. After a few blocks I took matters into my own hands by acting like I was going to throw my bandanna at him (my signature look) but he kept coming after me. Finally, I located a stick, picked it up, and threatened to throw it. With a stick in my hand and five blocks away from the original run-in the crow flew back in a zig, zag pattern...as a crow flies.

Passing Ball

For Christmas in 1984 my mother, in an act of total selflessness, cashed in her points from work to obtain for me a Jim Rice Spalding baseball glove; I believe it cost $80, which was a monstrous amount for my family at the time. I loved that glove; it was my first "real" glove. My previous gloves were cheap models bought at Heck's (you had to grow up in WV to know about Heck's); the gloves were also the favorite of my dog Amos, who would just wait for me to leave them lying on the ground so he could chew on them, but since they were cheap imitation leather, he would take them over the hill, dig a hole, and bury them.) But the Jim Rice model was different in my eyes and Amos' - I never left the Jim Rice model on the ground!

The glove served me well for the majority of my baseball and softball playing days. But not even the Jim Rice could last forever. Last week I went to one of the mega-lo-mart sporting goods stores and purchased a new glove. It is a Rawlings model that set me back about $35. I cannot believe how good a quality this glove is compared to the Jim Rice, no it is not as good but damn near.

I have officially given up my dream of playing professional baseball. I never stood a chance but I still held onto the dream. Although if Jamie Moyer comes back next season I may reawaken my dream. My one passion then and now is to simply pass ball. I love passing ball.

Every evening before dinner my father and I would pass ball till mom said supper was ready. On the field I was Don Mattingly and he was Dan Quisenberry - not exactly a match made in heaven for passing but who cares.

We passed ball up until the last year of life.

On the evening I bought the new glove it was all I could to do after dinner to restrain my excitement to pass ball #2; I couldn't stand it. It was a fun evening; the new glove will take some time to break in but what a wonderful way to do it with my boys. I also decided it was time to introduce some of the passing games my dad and I used to play, they loved them. I dont know how good of a ball player the boys will be - they are head and shoulders above me when I was their age. I do hope that years from now they too have the simple love of passing ball.

Postscript -- While I was in seminary Ken Burns released his documentary on Thomas Jefferson. One day while eating lunch with some classmates and some professors we discussed the program. During the conversation the late Dan Champion chimed in that during the second and third hour of the program Burns ran out of material and spliced several minutes of his previous work Baseball. We all laughed, even the professors - this was Dan Champion after all! Once the table cleared leaving only Dan, Chad (now Dr. Thralls), and myself, we picked up the conversation concerning the Burns documentary...Champion made a bet, "I bet if ESPN2 at 2am put two guys passing ball on television, people would watch it." 12 years later I still know I would...

The Passing of Peter Gomes: in Memoriam of the Man with the Anglican Oversoul

This week I learned of the death of the Rev. Peter Gomes, pastor of Memorial Church, Harvard University. In many ways, for me, it felt like losing Johnny Cash all over again. Although we only met twice he felt like a member of the family, a close friend, a mentor, an icon, someone who has always been around.

At the 1999 commencement address of the Colgate Rochester Divinity School Rev. Gomes was the chosen preacher. I showed up...late and...unprepared. I took my seat just as he stepped up to the elevated pulpit of the Asbury First United Methodist Church, donned in an otherworldly clerical attire, speaking with a marvelous cadence and rhythm. It was not until I arrived back at my apartment did I even read his biography. After the service he stood at the back door greeting each as we left, everyone of us, just like any Baptist pastor in any Baptist church in Appalachia.

I didn't know what to make of him. In some ways I scoffed at his clerical demeanor, his Elizabethan tongue, and seriousness which he took his profession.

It was not until I moved to Rhode Island that we he bumped into me at the Brown University Bookstore. As I rounded the corner to the religion section he greeted me with his infectious smile and charm, (it was the cover of Sermons: Biblical Wisdom for Daily Living). I read three sentences and instantly decided to purchase the book.

Confession: In seminary I had a dual self-understanding of myself that severely impeded my ability to preach: one, I thought I was going to pursue PhD studies in Theology and two, I thought I was a born natural when it came to preaching and therefore did not need any help. As the last semester of divinity school approached I decided to take a preaching course for graduation, the only one offered was Advanced Feminist Preaching. It was a great class but I hadn't even took Feminist Preaching or Intro to Preaching. I made my way through the class but my skills as a preacher were lacking at best. After a year or two in the pulpit I realized I needed to undertake a crash course in preaching. I began reading, listening to tapes, and reading the Arts section of the NY Times (a Gardner Taylor recommendation). But the world seemed to be going in the opposite direction: short sermons, light ideas, and easy construction. But Gomes in his sermon preparation and life as a pastor would have none of that!

Over the past 8 years I am not afraid to say that I have read every book Rev. Gomes has written, I have tried to model my worship services after his at HMC, I even wear the cassock, preaching gown and preaching tabs as he did (his secretary confirmed that they were purchased at Wippell). Not to mimic but because I realized that this was a serious man undertaking a serious profession with humor, scholarship, and delight - and I felt the same way! And if I were to take my profession serious why not get up on Sunday morning with full intentions. No one complained about outfit (they actually said it made my preaching better) or my love of all things non-sacramental-Episcopalian but they did complain at my sermon length; to use a PG aphorism describing the expectation of most folk when it comes to the length of worship (and i.e. sermons), One Lord, One Faith, One Hour!

We next met at Andover Newton Theological School during a lecture on preaching. I was one of the first people in the building. I took notes on how he conducted himself, not only what he said but how he said it. After the engagement I waited my turn in line to introduce myself and then ask a couple of questions. He took the time to answer and to encourage.

This week we have lost a great human being, and a great preacher. The response has been tremendous. I think most feel like we have lost the last of the great preachers. But I think if Rev. Gomes was anything he was an encourager and a model for the possibility. If a preacher can preach for 45 minutes to standing room only crowds at "Godless Harvard," then certainly the rest of us can button down and do a damn good job at sermons we prepare and deliver at the congregations we serve!

Christian Practices VI: Forgiveness

Below is the sermon from Sunday (Feb. 20). We celebrated the baptism of one of the youth. Where you would normally find the name of the youth I have substituted the generic N for the youth's name.

Going the Extra Mile

Christian Practices VI: Forgiveness

text: “…go also the second mile.” (Matthew 5:41)

Matthew 5:38-48

This morning shortly before noon N begins a new life, and we too begin, again, with him. This morning N will walk into the waters to be baptized; our ultimate symbol (but never more than a symbol) of his decision to follow Jesus. Over the last few weeks N and I have met for several sessions for his baptism class. Yes, if you want to be baptized you have to attend sessions and you have to be of proper age 12 or 13, or the age when you don’t whine after your parents put some kind of new green vegetable on your plate for dinner. Each pastor has his or her own feeling on this – mine is baptism that baptism is our version of a confirmation class, we are re-creating the promises our parents and our church made when we were dedicated. After these few sessions I can say with upmost confidence that N is ready, maybe even more than any other person I’ve baptized. Why? Because he asks questions, serious questions, deep questions. Baptism is not an ascent to ideas but the greatest act of protest you and I can undertake. Protest – because the world aint right, because we aint right! With our baptism we are saying yes to the way of Jesus and no to the way, or direction, of the world here and now.

N as a Christian in the western world, as a Christian in this postmodern world you will need three things to make it: One, the finest bible on the market. You got it, the NRSV New Interpreter’s Study Bible; it’s the best on the market. Ask your questions when you read it and do not give a second thought to orthodoxy or hersey – in the end they don’t matter anyway. Read the contents of this book like old Abe Lincoln: aloud. Notice its rhythms, its worldviews, its peculiarities, its idioms, its bizarreness. Two, you will need to the ability to forgive and to nurture deep reservoirs of forgiveness. Forgiveness more than any other practice or virtue will define your Christianity, your decision to follow God in this world. More on this in a moment. And lastly, N you’re going to need to develop an all consuming love for classic country music! You’ll need to embrace the twang of Loretta Lynn, the lonesome sound of Hank Williams, the harmony of Lester Flat and Earl Scruggs, the nasal sideburns of George Jones, the guttural backbeat of Waylon Jennings, without a doubt the genius of Johnny Cash, the ingenuity of the Carter Family, along with the humor/irony of John Prine and how about a sweet helpin’ of Emmylou Harris. Stories of heartbreak and redemption, sin and salvation, separation and reconciliation, winning and losing, lying and truthing, and then some. Trust me…you’ll need ‘em and don’t let anyone tell you different.

I given you the Bible off my shelf, and I can now give you a classic country mixed tape (even if you don’t know what that is) but the ability and capacity to forgive…well that’s our job as a congregation to teach and model for you and for you to teach and model to us the way of forgiveness. Trust me on this one too…aint no one going to teach you how to do this. If we can accomplish this task together and if you can carry the Good Book with you, and if you can sing along with classic country song, then you’ll make it and we’ll make in this world as followers of Jesus the Christ.

I have waited for a good bit before revealing this simple fact, forgiveness like the other Christian practices we have explored lately are not alternatives or maybes of our religion instead they are requirements for the faithful. Christianity has plenty of room for differing beliefs (for the record there are 280 differing Protestant bodies in North America of that number 83 are different kinds of Baptists), at minimum all you have to confess is that Jesus is Lord, that’s it nothing more, nothing less. But practices we cannot take for granted or overlook! From the simple confession Jesus is Lord flows a way of life calling for the practice of forgiveness, honoring the body, observing the Sabbath, singing our lives, saying yes and saying no, discernment, and next Sunday testimony. This list is neither exhaustive nor unabridged instead it is representative of a long list of practices that have emerged from two millennia of distillative experiences of Christianity.

Lists or requirements may cause your Baptist bones to ache and recoil, you may grimace at the thought of non-negociables. Then let us tease out an analogy. Whey I talk to jazz musicians or music historians in the city I always inquire if there are specific any New Orleans hymns. They ponder it for a moment then say no. Instead of a repertoire or body of New Orleans hymns there is the New Orleans jazz approach to hymns. So when you hear requirements replace it with approach. Think of Christian practices as an approach to Christianity.

I’ve only got this week and next Sunday to entice, wrangle, tempt, beg, and yes guilt you into a small group during Lent so you can experiment with one of these Christian practices. Allow me a moment to provide some possibilities: the discernment group may meet at someone’s home over wine and cheese to talk about how they are experiencing what God is calling them to do. (May I suggest a box of wine, not only is it cheaper and can provide enough for a small gathering but it is also the more ecological choice.) The saying yes and saying no group may simply email back and forth how they said no to some things so they could say yes to God. The singing group may join around a piano and sing all of those blood and guts Baptist classics, or maybe you will learn some new hymns, or maybe you will get together and plan what hymns you want sung at your funeral. The observing the Sabbath group may meet together for Sunday supper, or go visit our shut-ins, or play a game of kickball or spend a few hours playing and having fun at Rock-n-Bowl. The honoring the body group may meet for yoga at Audubon Park (I know instructors who would love this). And the forgiveness group may sit down somewhere and honestly share why they are unwilling or incapable of forgiveness, how difficult it is to forgive. Why? Because when we gather on Easter morn and sing Alleluia let us sing it with purpose and meaning because all of us will have a new and deeper appreciation of why God’s mighty act of raising Jesus is transforming us and our world. I believe we are going to change the world through these practices and let us not settle for anything less.

I invite everyone here to make a fist as tight as you can, then press this tight fist onto your knees, all the while gnashing your teeth. Now release your fist, place your hands palms up on your knees and exhale that is forgiveness. Imagine a balloon falling to the ground then exploding when it hits a blade of grass, that is forgiveness. Imagine a hug that you fall and sink into while you sob uncontrollably in the arms of another, that is forgiveness.

Forgiveness is never fast, never easy, and never without consequences. N, rest assured some people will wilt with appreciation when you forgive them but most wont give a damn. They will take advantage of you, will walk all over you, and take advantage of your forgiving spirit. Forgive anyway. Forgiveness, when it is beautiful and proper is a two way street but most times it is a wrong way on a one way street. Forgive anyway. It is our job to help you learn how to deal with an unaccepting world, with a sarcastic and self-serving world. It is our job to help you see past the current circumstances and develop a deep sense of Christian hope; it is our job to help you forgive anyway. Trust me you and all of us will change the world with our forgiveness.

We have to model for you the capacity to keep forgiving even though the world is replete with examples. In the 1960s during the Civil Rights Movement America had a chance not only for forgiveness for its original sin of slavery but true transformation for race relations, the American church had a chance to offer genuine Christian metanoia but it didn’t, it failed. And we are living with the consequences, we are left waiting for another chance. Amidst all of the beatings, brutality, killing, derogatory behavior, racism, ugly actions, and unabashed sin that took place during the Civil Rights Movement there are scant and almost non-existent examples of perpetrators seeking forgiveness.

In the summer of 1961 John Lewis, a 21 year old civil rights activist and Baptist minister got off a bus in Rock Hill, SC and attempted to enter the “Whites Only” door to the bus terminal. At that moment the mob unleashed their violence onto Lewis and the others. 50 years later Elwin Wilson looked at a photograph of the event and realized that the man he was beating with all of his might was John Lewis. 50 years later Elwin Wilson found John Lewis and apologized. The story on NPR recorded Lewis’s recollection of the conversation this way,

"I said to him, 'I forgive you.' I don't have any ill feelings, any bitterness, any malice. He gave me a hug. I hugged him back. He cried a little, and I cried." "Well, it was a moment of grace, a moment of forgiveness and a moment of reconciliation, and that's what the movement, that's what the struggle was all about," Lewis says.

Wilson says he found the Lord and realized he was wrong.

"If I can just get one person not to hate, it's worth it," Wilson says.

The forgiveness of Lewis and the repentance of Wilson is an amazing story but here is the kicker. Rock Hill is a city of 70,000 residents and only one has sought forgiveness. I am sure there are plenty of pews packed on Sunday mornings of folk who were a part of that mob or who were the silent majority that approved of their action, silence is an act. N it is my prayer that through your life you are the forgiving one, that we are the forgiving community, N it is my prayer that you are the one who seeks forgiveness, that we are the seekers of forgiveness, N it is my prayer that you are the one who brings the word of peace, that we are the peacemakers, N it is my prayer that you are the one who offers transformation, the community that offers transformation.

Brothers and Sisters let us commit and recommit ourselves to the ministry of forgiveness and reconciliation. In the waters of N’s baptism may we all recommit our vow to follow Jesus, to practice forgiveness, and to live as if the kingdom of God is here and now. Amen & Amen.

When Theologians Preached, Museum-Quality Sermons, & Camera Angles

Several years ago I attended a theological circle in Boston, MA. Myself and a room full of retired Baptist preachers. Someone mentioned Paul Tillich and that was all they talked about. I remember rolling my eyes, leaving the room, and thinking these men were stuck in the past with their infatuation with Tillich. (historical note, up to that time I had only read The Courage to Be, and oddly enough loved it). Fast forward a few years but stop before you arrive at the present, stop a few days ago.

At the beginning of the year I decided to read a good number of works by one theologian, I chose Paul Tillich. Why? I am not for sure. I have been struggling with religious language, meaning, and the relation to culture - who would one turn to than Tillich? But what to read and where to start? By chance on Facebook the other day my theology professor was online and started chatting with me. So I asked Dr. Cauthen where to start. He suggested I start by reading Tillich's book of sermons, The Shaking of the Foundations; which I had on my shelf. Last week I picked up STF and could not believe how good his sermons were. I was amazed. I was also instantly envious of all those who gathered in the chapel at Union Seminary and got to hear them live. I don't think I've ever read such rich theological sermons. I have preached my own share of theological sermons, but nothing like those. They are tough but accessible. I find them to be quite inspiring.

I also found my Easter sermon! You Are Accepted a sermon which is also included in the collection American Sermons: The Pilgrims to Martin Luther King, Jr (one of those Library of America editions with the black cover, white lettering, and the red, white, and blue ribbon). No, I am not going to copy the sermon but I am going to write the sermon by spinning off a paragraph or two.

Am I allowed to that? Good question. I will explain myself this way. Shortly after arriving here someone called with boxes of books from the library of the former pastor. I and a member drove out and picked up the collection. There were several Fosdick and Weatherhead books of sermons along with others. I began leafing through the sermons and noticed that a good many of the sermons were outlined, marked up, and noted. The pastor did not copy the sermons but he did use them for organizing his own sermons, for constructing themes, and for laying out series of sermons.

I read books of sermons all the time ( my favorites right now are William Sloane Coffin's). I am sure sentences and phrases invade my sermons from my reading. I do not copy but I am not afraid to use past sermons for inspiration. How else to get better than to read (and preach on a Thursday morning when no one is around) great sermons?

But the question lingers: Do theologians preach today? If so, who?

I spend a good amount of tie thinking about the craft of preaching. The conversation I am sharing today emerged last week while listening to Terri Gross' interview with Rodney Crowell on Fresh Air last week. I suppose I am sold on the idea that preaching matters, that good preaching can bring change and growth. Here is the money quote, for preachers, from the interview:

In 1972, Crowell left East Texas and moved to Nashville to follow his own passion: songwriting. He quickly fell into a musical scene, where he met fellow songwriter Guy Clark, who offered him some sage advice.

"He said, 'Now, look, you can be a star or you can be an artist. You can be an artist and then become a star, but I don't think it works the other way around. But they're both okay. Pick one and get good at it,' " Crowell says. "Well, I knew he was an artist, so I said, 'I want to be an artist.' "

Clark, whose songs have been recorded by Ricky Skaggs, Johnny Cash, Vince Gill and Steve Wariner, then sat Crowell down with some Dylan Thomas poems.

"[Clark] said, 'Listen to how good this is. You have to make your songs this good,' " Crowell says. "And it had a profound effect on me. It took me a while to absorb the information that was being given to me, but eventually it gave me the intent that I wanted to try to write good songs and always strive for timelessness or museum-quality work. I'm not saying I've achieved museum quality, but if you're not swinging for museum quality or timelessness, then why bother?"

Substitute artist with pastor/preacher and good songs for good sermons. Why shouldn't we swing for museum-quality sermons? It does not mean we will achieve them but doesnt those who gather on Sunday morning deserve our best efforts?

While I'm on the topic of Rodney Crowell I have to share the one video, I Couldn't Leave You If I Tried, he shot in my home state, right outside of the town I attended my first year of college: Philippi, WV.

Watch at the 30 second mark. This is a great song but the camera action needs some tinkering.

Christian Practices V: Honoring the Body

All That I Am

Christian Practices V: Honoring the Body

text: “…the throne of God.” (Matthew 5:34)

The Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany – 13.Feb.2011

The Rev’d G. Travis Norvell

Truth like love cannot exist solely as a mental exercise, it must be practiced. Truth like love must be consummated. Christianity, like truth, like love, must be part contemplative and part action. Our gospel, part truth, part love, is best when it moves through the mind to the heart. Our gospel, part truth-part love is best practiced as St. Francis implored, preach the gospel, when necessary use words.

He was a dangerous man, that Francis, someone who dared to embody the truth he found or better the Truth that found him. Although his story comes from the 12 century it is a poignant today as ever.

But why are there so few people like Francis? How come we all do not seek to embody our religion? What prevents us from freely acting and living out in our bodies the truth we have found or the Truth that found us?

We have all watched with delight as the people of Egypt gathered for two weeks to demonstrate and demand their freedom. They gathered with their bodies, they put their bodies on the line, their bodies were beaten and bullied. Everyone thought the Egyptians would back away once the crackdown on bodies began but the exact opposite happened. Etched in my mind are the bodies locked arm-in-arm, etched in my mind are the two images from the Church of Two Saints and Liberation Square. At the Church of Two Saints in Alexandria as Coptic Christians worshipped thousands of Muslims gathered around the Cathedral to protect their fellow Egyptians from another suicide bomber; with their bodies the majority extended the religious liberty to the minority. This has been a Western practice born on the shores of Massachusetts Bay. At Liberation Square as Muslims prayed in an act of non-violent civil disobedience, another Western practice, Coptic Christians arm-in-arm formed a human shield between the praying Muslims and the tanks and the thugs. I cannot find another example when a minority sought to offer religious liberty to the majority. Brothers and sisters we witnessed and are witnessing a new frontier of religious liberty, a new view of the human body, and a new non-violent embodiment of religion.

Throughout history there are images of individuals using their bodies to communicate truth; human beings who have honored their bodies in such a way to transcend the ordinary, their testimonies allow us for one moment to climb Jacob’s ladder and look around heaven. Jesus healing the lame, the woman wiping bathing Jesus’s feet with her tears, St. Francis stripping and handing his clothes back to his father in front of the cathedral of Assisi, and the Civil Rights marchers standing with dignity while police held barking German Shepherds only inches from their faces. With their bodies they offered a higher level of existence for humanity. With their bodies they offered the possibility of human flourishing for all. By embodying their Christianity, by honoring their bodies in acts of love, justice, and solidarity they modeled for us another Christian Practice.

This is our fifth installment of a seven part sermon series on Christian Practices; today we center on the discipline of honoring the body. Each practice: discernment, saying yes and saying no, singing our lives, observing the Sabbath, honoring the body, testimony, and forgiveness contributes to a full definition of each other and what it means to practice our faith. All but one, I am willing to be bet sounds fairly doable and even a little enticing. All but one that is, honoring the body. For Baptist especially the issue of the body is a tough issue.

During the season of Lent I asking/challenging/begging/guilting each and every one of you to break up and form into small groups for the sole purpose of exploring and experimenting with one of these seven practices. Perhaps you will meet in the chapel or in someone’s living room to sing hymns, perhaps you will meet in a coffee shop and role play with one another on how to say yes and to say, perhaps you will go for a walk and talk about how you are discerning God’s will, perhaps you will want to organize a kickball game on a Sunday or invite others over for supper to observe the Sabbath, or perhaps you could form a yoga class during Lent to honor your body. I think this one may be the most troubling.

Don’t drink, don’t cuss, don’t chew, don’t go with those who do. Don’t dance, don’t play cards, kids are better seen and not heard, only say amen during worship as a last resort of praise/appreciation and don’t even think about mentioning sex at all.

That’s a muddled Christian view of the boyd. On the one hand we offer the most sensual Christian ritual: full immersion baptism while on the other hand we rarely if ever honor our bodies in worship. On the one hand we have the most beat driven hymnody of any denomination while on the other hand we rarely, if ever, dance, shuffle our feet or tap our toes. A few years ago I accidentally introduced Baptist hymnody to an Eastman School of Music professor. Immediately he went off to find a galvanized trash can so he could bang out the rhythm. On the one hand we have the freest view of communion – jokingly I say our view of the meal is the lowest common denominator, we invite everybody but on the other hand we celebrate this festive meal in the most constrictive manner by sitting down and being served.

This muddled view should come as no surprise.

At the center of Christianity is the doctrine of the incarnation – that God in Jesus Christ became flesh, that God in Jesus Christ passed through the birth canal and crossed the threshold from womb to life. And it should come as no surprise that Baptists have not exactly done a good job of expressing clear teaching on this issue. The late Dale Moody, one time stalwart of theology and biblical studies at Southern Seminary once remarked that Baptists are muddleheaded Apollinarians. Say what? Our theology of the incarnation has yet to fully embrace the fully human and fully God dual nature of Jesus. Instead in practice we communicate that Jesus had a human body but a divine head. If this has been our heritage then no wonder we have the thoughts and prohibitions we do about our bodies.

Then no wonder Pentecostals are the fastest growing branch of Christianity. No wonder that many people my age and younger are turning towards alternative – but formal – forms of Christianity. No wonder many of you here, myself included, are here and not where you grew up. Better to be in New Orleans free and open about who you are than be back home and be someone you are not. No wonder that the very vices Baptists have sought to repress emerge with a vengeance in the forms of tragic addiction. I know, I know correlation does not equal causation but in my brief 36 years and in your years we have all seen the religious impetus.

At least once a week I try to entice one of my friends or colleagues to move to New Orleans. I tell them just by living here, eating the food, and walking the streets you get the equivalent of a PhD in Theology, Sociology, Music, and Gastronomy. Although it should come as no surprise, living here has forced me to change my theology. For theology is not like a plastic flower always green and bright it is a living, growing, and changing organism. This city is helping me live a free life, the real change came last year. 364 days ago I experienced one of the greatest days of my life.

It began with the Jazz service, continued with a mid afternoon parade, then wondering around an uptown neighborhood with a friend for a couple of hours going in and out of homes along the way playing ping pong, eating chicken, and picking up an adult beverage or two, in between parades some kids and I, around our ladders, fashioned together a huge jump rope made of broken beads and began double dutching, then another parade, then a huge neutral ground pot luck dinner, passed football with people across Napoleon, then night parades, when our neighbor reigned as king of Bacchus I screamed I’m open and with my non-preaching hand even I caught a pass, which was subsequently lost an hour or two later when a bass drum baton almost knocked me unconscious as I pulled one my progeny to safety.

That day I felt alive, free, fully human. I laughed, screamed, feasted, played, cried, felt the rhythms of the marching bands as they passed. I was surrounded by people I didn’t know or barely knew and was not anxious. I was exhausted, completely drained and yet fully alive and energized. That day was the turning point in my theology of the incarnation. God became human, God created us in God’s image, God gave us these bodies so that we may live and live abundantly, that we may live in community with one another, love one another, strive to make justice a reality, and heal one another with our bodies.

That day for the first time in my life I felt the embodiment of my Christianity with the rhythms of life. There in that mess of people, beer, beads, food, ladders, and music I realized our bodies are not our enemies. They are God’s gift to us.

Now may be the appropriate time in the sermon to ask yourself what has this got to do with the portion of the sermon on the mount that we read from for the gospel lesson? Take the gospel lesson and the teaching therein and peel them away and what do you have? Or better yet hold the page sideways and see if can imagine the three dimensional roots of this story – like the majestic Live Oaks there is an equal amount of roots under the soil to the amount of branches above. In this passage Jesus is teaching in a creative and didactic way the organic relationship between thoughts and actions. If an individual or congregation, or society can change the way they think then they can the way they act; and if they can change the was they act then they can change the way they think. We all know that we can not change each other, as much as we would like to, we can only change one another and the way we interact with one another.

So what if you and I began to change the way we thought about our bodies, about the incarnation, about the incarnation of our Christianity, about honoring our bodies. Imagine the new and healthier world. Imagine a church where we seek the healing of our own bodies and those in our lives, where sex and sexuality were not taboos but subjects worthy of conversations, where sex and sexuality are not words causing us to blush or feel shame but as honest speech about who I am or who you are as a human being in this body. Imagine if we were honest about the limitations of our bodies. Imagine if we honored our bodies in such a way that we aged together in support of one another attentive to our aching sciatica nerves, failing eyes, and uncooperative memories?

Because Mabel Palmer, via the chaplain Rev. Stephens, asked me to I now lead a worship service at Poydras Home every second Thursday from 10:30 to 11:00am. Recall the sermon on saying yes and saying no, are you going to say no to Mabel Palmer? You are all invited to help me out, this week I sang in three keys while leading the Doxology. I read scripture, pray with and for them, and deliver a brief message. This week, however, I changed my approach. I went with questions, specifically questions about bodies. I figured a group of 20 80-90 years olds were experts on their bodies. I asked them when they look into the mirror what do they see? Do they see someone who has lived 32,000 days or ten year old? They said we see a much younger person, we don’t recognize the person in the mirror. Then I asked an unprepared question if you could would you change anything about your body? They all said no. After all these years, they wouldn’t change a thing.

Their bodies are limited, each day brings new aches and pains…and they wouldn’t change a thing. Those in the twilight of life were done struggling they were honoring their bodies by acceptance and even embracing their bodies.

We need their voices to be heard about our bodies and about embodying our Christianity but they also need our voices and other voices. In December I entered the front door of Poydras only to find a sign that said please use side entrance. I found the door and walked into the dining room and found a room full of the residents, and toddlers, it seemed like thousands of them in pajamas with teddy bears and singing Raffi songs. I looked at Rev. Stephens and asked what in the world was he thinking? I can’t follow toddlers in pajamas with teddy bears singing Raffi, but I had to! During the service all of those gathered were glowing with wonder at the bodies they had just watched. Bodies without limitations, endless energy and complete freedom.

Somewhere between those stories is the good news of the Christian practice of honoring the body. Somewhere between here and Cairo and Galilee is a view of our embodied truth and love. Somewhere in the midst of the gospel is the courage to be, to be the person made in the image of God. Somewhere in this body of ours is a song, specifically the song of William Grant Still the 20^th century composer originally from Woodville, MS, All that I Am

All that I am,

All I ever can be,

I owe to You, Lord,

For you have molded me.

All that I have,

All that I call mine,

I owe to You, Lord,

For all things are Thine.

Brothers and Sisters let us accept the invitation to live out, to embody our faith. Let us accept the invitation for the renewal of our minds so that when we look in the mirror we see the image of God, so that when we visit someone from 9 to 90 we are seeing the image again, so that when we greet one another with the peace we are imitating the creative acts of God to heal and restore the image of God within us. You and I have these bodies, they are God’s gift to us let us accept them, let us honor them. Amen and Amen.