Wednesday, June 20
Office hours
Due to the church council meeting this week Larry will not be at Ennui Cafe this Thursday evening.
Tuesday, June 19
Sermon: Proper 6 (11) Year C 2007
Sermon: Proper 6 (11) Year C 2007
June 17, 2007
Church of Jesus Christ, Reconciler
Rev. Tripp Hudgins
I know this will come as no surprise to anyone, but I love music. I am utterly hooked on the stuff. I sing. I play instruments. I love to dance. I will listen to music for hours on end. It is an all-encompassing artistic romance for me. So, it should also come as no surprise that it was music that had a principle role in my conversion to Christianity. Faith and art are, for me, of one piece. I don’t really know how to separate them out from one another. And this has colored my conversion since the very beginning.
William Byrd and Thomas Tallis, the sixteenth century composers, likely just as much to do with my conversion as anyone living with us now. Year after year in college and afterward I would have sung their music, and other music inspired by and written for the Christian faith. Chant, hymns, anthems, praise choruses. I had an opportunity to play and sing through so much music. And it all has its part in my conversion. But when all is said done, it is Byrd and Tallis…the great masters of polyphony, who shape and guide my faith with their own expressions of faithfulness.
Polyphony is a fascinating musical form. I know that some of you here likely know more about it than I do, but I hope you’ll bear with me for a moment. You see, polyphony is, at its core, the expansion of and elaboration upon a simple musical theme…like a chant. The melody is altered, rearranged and even shared between a variety of vocal parts. Sopranos will sing the melody and somehow, the composer will hand it over to the altos. The altos will hand it to the tenors. Now, of course, the tenors are loathe to part with the melodic line, but will, thanks to the strength of the composer, have to relinquish it to the sopranos once again. Every now and then, a brave composer like Byrd or Tallis would grace the bass section with the melody. Sadly, this is a rare occurrence.
But in the end choral politics matter not. Counter melodies are brought into the mix. Harmonies take on lives of their own and become melodies, complimentary melodies adding to the beauty and texture of the overall piece. Tones are layered upon tones, melody upon melody. Grace upon grace.
The words of faith, scripture, prayers, ancient creeds and confessions of faith, too, are stretched, single spoken phrases stretched so far that they are almost not recognizable as language. The listener must pay attention. The singer must remain constantly aware of what it is they are singing…not just a series of vowel sounds, but actual words. The lyric, the words are as important to the composition as the notes are. The words “I believe” or “Alleluia!” are expanded and ornamented over measures and voice parts and even then the piece only hints at the depths of emotion and faith expressed in the simple phrase “I believe,” “Alleuia!”
No art form exists without the artist. This is such a simple statement that it borders on the absurd. But it is important to recall in our current age when everything is labeled “product” and can be mass-produced. Music, visual art, statuary, pottery…theater and dance are no less subject to the whims of our consumer culture than a Twinkie. Consumerism dehumanizes when it is taken too far. So we must make a conscious effort to recall the human being, to bring her to the fore of our conversations about art.
It is a danger for all of us to become so caught up in the “how” and “why” of life that we forget entirely about the “who.” Our selves are “the who.” God is “the who.” We forget people, persons, divinity and humanity. It is an easy trap to hole up in our heads and in the technicalities and forget that all art, all faith is expression of human experience – experience of the banal and the divine. The Pharisee from our Gospel passage seems to suffer from this trouble. Yes, he is kind and hospitable to Jesus. But his curiosity is a technical one.
He wants to speak to Jesus the teacher. He wants to see how he thinks, how he gets his ideas and notions. His is a charitable place, but it is a heady place. It may not be soulful, heart-felt or faithful.
We can be like the Pharisee.
We weigh and balance, measure and set goals, plan projects, create institutions, set boundaries, and organize, organize, organize. We cannot help it. These are necessary activities, we say…but they are all for naught if we do not remember ourselves and others in the process. If we dehumanize the entire endeavor, then we destroy any hope of anything good, anything godly arising from our work. We become like Simon – graceless.
“I believe” writes James Jordan of the Wesminster Choir College, “that within every artist is contained, deep with in the soul, a fundamental set of truths; without it, he or she would probably not be an artist. I do believe that persons who do not practice expression have them, too, but they continually slip away if not used. Hence, the reason why people sing and play and have a basic love of music and the arts. Innate sensibilities about fundamental profundities of life: birth, re-birth, struggle, separation, trust, compassion, hope and the contemplation of the end of one’s life, death. To quote the old hymn, ‘Give me some of that old time religion.’”
Jordan’s words are powerful. They remind me of the purpose behind all faith, the truth behind all art, the reality of the believer, who is the faith artist. Faith is never simply a set of precepts. There are techniques, disciplines, surely, for painting, singing and, yes, even for faith. Doctrine has this place in faithfulness. And the Pharisee rightly reminds us of this. But the Pharisee takes this too far. He questions Jesus when Jesus does not shun the sinful woman. He says to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him – that she is a sinner.”
Jesus recognizes the sin, but he forgives her. She has come before God in an act of faith. Her expression is generous, passionate, heart-felt. She recognizes Jesus for who he is. She praises God. She asks for forgiveness with her tears…and her act of hospitality. She has shown love where Simon the Pharisee could not. Her faith heals her very soul. Passion and technique go hand in hand. One thrives only when the other is present.
Thus the sinful woman joins the song. Her life has become one of the many melodies written in God’s polyphony. Jesus opens all eyes to the truth of her faith and the injustice that is borne witness by Simon’s. When Simon would not have let her in his house, Jesus goes so far as to proclaim redemption. She joins other women and men, other artists, in the proclamation of faith.
In every work of the artist, we praise the Divine Artist* . We are God’s own polyphony, God’s creation, a work, a craft…We are art. We are God’s expression. We are God’s polyphony, each life a melodic line of forgiveness offered and received – grace upon grace.
The individual human being, the sinful woman, the many women and men who followed Christ, even Simon the Pharisee, is part and parcel of a community of song. The polyphony that is community is upheld by each line, each rest, each note dissonant and resonant. Their voice, the phrase that is their life, is essential to the composition as a whole. Without them, the composition would be incomplete.
And here we find ourselves at the beginning of the work, revisiting the theme. It is here we encounter conversion, our ongoing healing and transformation in Christ. In this way we encounter each of us as an artist, a Byrd or Tallis. We become grace for one another – grace upon grace: God’s own polyphony.
Thanks be to God.
*http://www.uga.edu/cc/franciscans.htm “It is Francis’ love of nature, epitomized in the Canticle, which has most endeared him to modern Christians, to the neglect of other aspects of his spirituality. Yet his love of all created things was simply an extension of his deep love of the Creator. His biographer, Thomas of Celano, wrote of him not many years after his death:
‘In every work of the artist he praised the Artist; whatever he found in the things made he referred to the Maker. He rejoiced in all the works of the hands of the Lord and saw behind things pleasant to behold their life-giving reason and cause. In beautiful things he saw Beauty itself; all things were to him good. ‘He who made us is the best,’ they cried out to him. Through his footprints impressed upon things he followed the Beloved everywhere; he made for himself from all things a ladder by which to come even to his throne.’”
June 17, 2007
Church of Jesus Christ, Reconciler
Rev. Tripp Hudgins
Grace Upon Grace: God’s Own Polyphony
When in our music God is glorified,
And adoration leaves no room for pride,
It is as though the whole creation cried,
Alleluia!
And adoration leaves no room for pride,
It is as though the whole creation cried,
Alleluia!
I know this will come as no surprise to anyone, but I love music. I am utterly hooked on the stuff. I sing. I play instruments. I love to dance. I will listen to music for hours on end. It is an all-encompassing artistic romance for me. So, it should also come as no surprise that it was music that had a principle role in my conversion to Christianity. Faith and art are, for me, of one piece. I don’t really know how to separate them out from one another. And this has colored my conversion since the very beginning.
William Byrd and Thomas Tallis, the sixteenth century composers, likely just as much to do with my conversion as anyone living with us now. Year after year in college and afterward I would have sung their music, and other music inspired by and written for the Christian faith. Chant, hymns, anthems, praise choruses. I had an opportunity to play and sing through so much music. And it all has its part in my conversion. But when all is said done, it is Byrd and Tallis…the great masters of polyphony, who shape and guide my faith with their own expressions of faithfulness.
Polyphony is a fascinating musical form. I know that some of you here likely know more about it than I do, but I hope you’ll bear with me for a moment. You see, polyphony is, at its core, the expansion of and elaboration upon a simple musical theme…like a chant. The melody is altered, rearranged and even shared between a variety of vocal parts. Sopranos will sing the melody and somehow, the composer will hand it over to the altos. The altos will hand it to the tenors. Now, of course, the tenors are loathe to part with the melodic line, but will, thanks to the strength of the composer, have to relinquish it to the sopranos once again. Every now and then, a brave composer like Byrd or Tallis would grace the bass section with the melody. Sadly, this is a rare occurrence.
But in the end choral politics matter not. Counter melodies are brought into the mix. Harmonies take on lives of their own and become melodies, complimentary melodies adding to the beauty and texture of the overall piece. Tones are layered upon tones, melody upon melody. Grace upon grace.
The words of faith, scripture, prayers, ancient creeds and confessions of faith, too, are stretched, single spoken phrases stretched so far that they are almost not recognizable as language. The listener must pay attention. The singer must remain constantly aware of what it is they are singing…not just a series of vowel sounds, but actual words. The lyric, the words are as important to the composition as the notes are. The words “I believe” or “Alleluia!” are expanded and ornamented over measures and voice parts and even then the piece only hints at the depths of emotion and faith expressed in the simple phrase “I believe,” “Alleuia!”
How often making music we have found
a new dimension in the world of sound,
as worship moved us to a more profound
Alleluia!
a new dimension in the world of sound,
as worship moved us to a more profound
Alleluia!
No art form exists without the artist. This is such a simple statement that it borders on the absurd. But it is important to recall in our current age when everything is labeled “product” and can be mass-produced. Music, visual art, statuary, pottery…theater and dance are no less subject to the whims of our consumer culture than a Twinkie. Consumerism dehumanizes when it is taken too far. So we must make a conscious effort to recall the human being, to bring her to the fore of our conversations about art.
It is a danger for all of us to become so caught up in the “how” and “why” of life that we forget entirely about the “who.” Our selves are “the who.” God is “the who.” We forget people, persons, divinity and humanity. It is an easy trap to hole up in our heads and in the technicalities and forget that all art, all faith is expression of human experience – experience of the banal and the divine. The Pharisee from our Gospel passage seems to suffer from this trouble. Yes, he is kind and hospitable to Jesus. But his curiosity is a technical one.
He wants to speak to Jesus the teacher. He wants to see how he thinks, how he gets his ideas and notions. His is a charitable place, but it is a heady place. It may not be soulful, heart-felt or faithful.
We can be like the Pharisee.
We weigh and balance, measure and set goals, plan projects, create institutions, set boundaries, and organize, organize, organize. We cannot help it. These are necessary activities, we say…but they are all for naught if we do not remember ourselves and others in the process. If we dehumanize the entire endeavor, then we destroy any hope of anything good, anything godly arising from our work. We become like Simon – graceless.
“I believe” writes James Jordan of the Wesminster Choir College, “that within every artist is contained, deep with in the soul, a fundamental set of truths; without it, he or she would probably not be an artist. I do believe that persons who do not practice expression have them, too, but they continually slip away if not used. Hence, the reason why people sing and play and have a basic love of music and the arts. Innate sensibilities about fundamental profundities of life: birth, re-birth, struggle, separation, trust, compassion, hope and the contemplation of the end of one’s life, death. To quote the old hymn, ‘Give me some of that old time religion.’”
Jordan’s words are powerful. They remind me of the purpose behind all faith, the truth behind all art, the reality of the believer, who is the faith artist. Faith is never simply a set of precepts. There are techniques, disciplines, surely, for painting, singing and, yes, even for faith. Doctrine has this place in faithfulness. And the Pharisee rightly reminds us of this. But the Pharisee takes this too far. He questions Jesus when Jesus does not shun the sinful woman. He says to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him – that she is a sinner.”
Jesus recognizes the sin, but he forgives her. She has come before God in an act of faith. Her expression is generous, passionate, heart-felt. She recognizes Jesus for who he is. She praises God. She asks for forgiveness with her tears…and her act of hospitality. She has shown love where Simon the Pharisee could not. Her faith heals her very soul. Passion and technique go hand in hand. One thrives only when the other is present.
Thus the sinful woman joins the song. Her life has become one of the many melodies written in God’s polyphony. Jesus opens all eyes to the truth of her faith and the injustice that is borne witness by Simon’s. When Simon would not have let her in his house, Jesus goes so far as to proclaim redemption. She joins other women and men, other artists, in the proclamation of faith.
So has the Church, in liturgy and song,
In faith and love, through centuries of wrong,
Borne witness to the truth in every tongue,
Alleluia!
In faith and love, through centuries of wrong,
Borne witness to the truth in every tongue,
Alleluia!
In every work of the artist, we praise the Divine Artist* . We are God’s own polyphony, God’s creation, a work, a craft…We are art. We are God’s expression. We are God’s polyphony, each life a melodic line of forgiveness offered and received – grace upon grace.
The individual human being, the sinful woman, the many women and men who followed Christ, even Simon the Pharisee, is part and parcel of a community of song. The polyphony that is community is upheld by each line, each rest, each note dissonant and resonant. Their voice, the phrase that is their life, is essential to the composition as a whole. Without them, the composition would be incomplete.
And here we find ourselves at the beginning of the work, revisiting the theme. It is here we encounter conversion, our ongoing healing and transformation in Christ. In this way we encounter each of us as an artist, a Byrd or Tallis. We become grace for one another – grace upon grace: God’s own polyphony.
Thanks be to God.
*http://www.uga.edu/cc/franciscans.htm “It is Francis’ love of nature, epitomized in the Canticle, which has most endeared him to modern Christians, to the neglect of other aspects of his spirituality. Yet his love of all created things was simply an extension of his deep love of the Creator. His biographer, Thomas of Celano, wrote of him not many years after his death:
‘In every work of the artist he praised the Artist; whatever he found in the things made he referred to the Maker. He rejoiced in all the works of the hands of the Lord and saw behind things pleasant to behold their life-giving reason and cause. In beautiful things he saw Beauty itself; all things were to him good. ‘He who made us is the best,’ they cried out to him. Through his footprints impressed upon things he followed the Beloved everywhere; he made for himself from all things a ladder by which to come even to his throne.’”
Larry Kamphausen's Summer Office Hours
This is to let people know that my office hours have changed for the summer. Starting this week I will be at Metropolis Cafe Tuesday 3:30 to 5:30 PM. If you want to meet with me on Tuesdays it be best to contact me first to make sure I will be at Metropolis. I will try to be there at this time most Tuesdays but due to various things I will not be able to be there every Tuesday.
I will though be at Ennui Cafe Thursday Evenings unless otherwise announced from 7:30 to 9:30 PM. If you want a time you can spontaneously come and see me Thursday evenings will be the time to do so.
Larry
I will though be at Ennui Cafe Thursday Evenings unless otherwise announced from 7:30 to 9:30 PM. If you want a time you can spontaneously come and see me Thursday evenings will be the time to do so.
Larry
Sunday, June 10
Sermon: "A Woman Meets Jesus"
Second Sunday after Pentecost, Year C
June 10, 2007
Readings: 1 Kings 17:8-24, Psalm 146, Galatians 1:11-24
Gospel: Luke 7:11-17
The Rev. Laura Gottardi-Littell, preacher
+++
I have always been terrified of losing my son. Since he was a small boy. Because he was always the heart of my heart. I feared when his fevers were too high, or when he would let go of my hand in the market.
I knew early on I would die for him, if I ever had to.
So when he died, as a young man, of a bad sickness that struck many in our village of Na’in, my pain was beyond belief.
I had lost my husband several years before. Many people say that a woman without a husband is a person of little worth. After my husband died, I was very sad. But at least I still had a son. And then my boy died too.
When I lost my son, I knew I had lost my livelihood, and what was left of my status in Na’in. There would be no one to care for me in my old age. But this is not why I grieved. I mourned because I had lost the heart of my heart.
Don’t get me wrong – it wasn’t always easy to be the mother of a son. There was much suffering and sacrifice, as well as much happiness, in it. Some nights, when he was little, and had a bad dream or a fever, I didn’t sleep at all. And then, the next morning, I would get up and cook for him and his father, and take care of my boy all day, weary to the bones. Those days were hard. As he got older, there were times I suffered with him, when someone or something had broken his heart. There were other times he would not listen to his father or me, and we feared he would get hurt doing something reckless. It was hard to understand sometimes why he did the things he did. But he grew up to be a fine and happy young man. I had many reasons to be proud of him. The joy was worth all the suffering and sacrifices.
The final days of his illness -- when I knew he might not live -- I thought I would go mad. I felt I was possessed of a demon. I begged God to let me die instead of my son. My friends and neighbors tried their best to comfort me, but they could not. Some of the people in Na’in made my pain worse, by saying I must have done something, or my son had done something, to deserve this death. They said God had turned God’s back on us.
Then a man, a stranger, came to Na’in with his followers, and with a crowd. They came just as we were carrying my son out through the village gates to be buried. The strange man saw me weeping and asked one of my neighbors what had happened. One of the man’s followers said to him: “Jesus, let’s not stop – we have to be going.” But the man called Jesus said no, they would stop. He came over to where my son lay. Then he came to where I stood and looked at me.
There was something in the face of this stranger that I’d never seen before. I am not comfortable with a strange man looking at me, and I could not meet his eyes for long. But even in a quick look, I saw that this man understood what it meant to suffer and to sacrifice. And at the same time, there was also the most amazing peace and joy about him. His eyes were so full of life. I don’t know if he was a father, but I sensed he felt what I felt. He knew what it was to give life to another, and to be willing to die so that another could live.
When I looked at him I felt all that.
And he seemed to see something in me. It’s hard to explain, but the way he looked at me was different from how I am usually looked at. Even when I was a young girl, I often had a feeling that when people saw me, they saw only an incomplete person. And when I married, they saw me only as a man’s wife, not much more than one of his animals. When I had a son, they viewed me as someone to take care of a boy child. As if my husband and son – and nothing else – made me a person of value. And when my husband and son died – I lost my value.
But to this Jesus, I think… I was a daughter of God. Even in the lowest moment of my life.
When he saw my son lying dead, and my agony, Jesus wept. And I was amazed by that -- a stranger crying for us! He told my son to rise, and my boy got up right away, saying: “Mother, where are you?” And Jesus brought him to my arms. I was delirious with joy, it was unbelievable. I cannot tell you what I felt. Can one speak when the greatest wish of one’s heart is realized? Can one speak of such a holy mystery? I only clutched my boy close, and we laughed and wept together, as if we would never let go.
The crowd was amazed and overjoyed but also afraid. Some, like me, had no words. Others began to whisper and murmur. Some shouted that this Jesus was a great man. Some said he was a prophet like Elijah, who raised another widow’s son long ago. But I felt that Jesus must be greater even than Elijah. Elijah had to stretch himself out three times on that dead boy of long ago, and Jesus called out but once to my son. And there was something about this Jesus that I have never felt from any human being. If he is a prophet, I think he is the greatest one we have seen here in Judea.
Many in the crowd who saw my son rise said that God had looked favorably on his people. And I too felt that God was holding us in the palm of his hand. We gave thanks to this God who had done the impossible.
I have my son back with me now, and we are very happy. But I will never forget what it was to lose him. And I know that if another woman in my village loses a child -- and if for some reason we cannot find Jesus -- I will reach out to her with the compassion he showed me. I will tell her she is made in God’s image, as the Scriptures say. That God loves her and her lost child. That I hurt for and with her. That in time the pain will become easier to bear. And I will never turn my back on her, as Jesus did not turn his back on me.
I will not say to her – as some said to me – that God is punishing her, or her child who died. What could a child do to deserve death? What could I have done, though I am far from perfect, to deserve the death of my son? This is judgment, humans judging each other, when we speak that way.
In Jesus, I heard something different. When he prayed to restore my son, he spoke to God as if God was his own parent. He prayed as if this God did not want to destroy human beings, but wills health and life for his creatures. Jesus did not judge my son or me; he helped us. He didn’t turn and walk away because he was too busy, or too important. How can I, in turn, call myself a follower of Jesus if I refuse to comfort those who mourn?
Jesus has been gone from Na’in for some time now. I don’t know if he will ever be back. I hear that many seek him, in Judea and beyond. But I will always remember what he did for my son and me. I will remember his kind eyes that knew the best and worst of life. I will remember the tears he cried over my son. And the way he looked at me, not through me. The dignity with which he treated me. As if he understood what it means to love greatly, and because of that love, to suffer, sacrifice, and rejoice, sometimes all at the same time. As if he knew what it was to love the way a mother or a father loves.
+++
June 10, 2007
Readings: 1 Kings 17:8-24, Psalm 146, Galatians 1:11-24
Gospel: Luke 7:11-17
The Rev. Laura Gottardi-Littell, preacher
+++
I have always been terrified of losing my son. Since he was a small boy. Because he was always the heart of my heart. I feared when his fevers were too high, or when he would let go of my hand in the market.
I knew early on I would die for him, if I ever had to.
So when he died, as a young man, of a bad sickness that struck many in our village of Na’in, my pain was beyond belief.
I had lost my husband several years before. Many people say that a woman without a husband is a person of little worth. After my husband died, I was very sad. But at least I still had a son. And then my boy died too.
When I lost my son, I knew I had lost my livelihood, and what was left of my status in Na’in. There would be no one to care for me in my old age. But this is not why I grieved. I mourned because I had lost the heart of my heart.
Don’t get me wrong – it wasn’t always easy to be the mother of a son. There was much suffering and sacrifice, as well as much happiness, in it. Some nights, when he was little, and had a bad dream or a fever, I didn’t sleep at all. And then, the next morning, I would get up and cook for him and his father, and take care of my boy all day, weary to the bones. Those days were hard. As he got older, there were times I suffered with him, when someone or something had broken his heart. There were other times he would not listen to his father or me, and we feared he would get hurt doing something reckless. It was hard to understand sometimes why he did the things he did. But he grew up to be a fine and happy young man. I had many reasons to be proud of him. The joy was worth all the suffering and sacrifices.
The final days of his illness -- when I knew he might not live -- I thought I would go mad. I felt I was possessed of a demon. I begged God to let me die instead of my son. My friends and neighbors tried their best to comfort me, but they could not. Some of the people in Na’in made my pain worse, by saying I must have done something, or my son had done something, to deserve this death. They said God had turned God’s back on us.
Then a man, a stranger, came to Na’in with his followers, and with a crowd. They came just as we were carrying my son out through the village gates to be buried. The strange man saw me weeping and asked one of my neighbors what had happened. One of the man’s followers said to him: “Jesus, let’s not stop – we have to be going.” But the man called Jesus said no, they would stop. He came over to where my son lay. Then he came to where I stood and looked at me.
There was something in the face of this stranger that I’d never seen before. I am not comfortable with a strange man looking at me, and I could not meet his eyes for long. But even in a quick look, I saw that this man understood what it meant to suffer and to sacrifice. And at the same time, there was also the most amazing peace and joy about him. His eyes were so full of life. I don’t know if he was a father, but I sensed he felt what I felt. He knew what it was to give life to another, and to be willing to die so that another could live.
When I looked at him I felt all that.
And he seemed to see something in me. It’s hard to explain, but the way he looked at me was different from how I am usually looked at. Even when I was a young girl, I often had a feeling that when people saw me, they saw only an incomplete person. And when I married, they saw me only as a man’s wife, not much more than one of his animals. When I had a son, they viewed me as someone to take care of a boy child. As if my husband and son – and nothing else – made me a person of value. And when my husband and son died – I lost my value.
But to this Jesus, I think… I was a daughter of God. Even in the lowest moment of my life.
When he saw my son lying dead, and my agony, Jesus wept. And I was amazed by that -- a stranger crying for us! He told my son to rise, and my boy got up right away, saying: “Mother, where are you?” And Jesus brought him to my arms. I was delirious with joy, it was unbelievable. I cannot tell you what I felt. Can one speak when the greatest wish of one’s heart is realized? Can one speak of such a holy mystery? I only clutched my boy close, and we laughed and wept together, as if we would never let go.
The crowd was amazed and overjoyed but also afraid. Some, like me, had no words. Others began to whisper and murmur. Some shouted that this Jesus was a great man. Some said he was a prophet like Elijah, who raised another widow’s son long ago. But I felt that Jesus must be greater even than Elijah. Elijah had to stretch himself out three times on that dead boy of long ago, and Jesus called out but once to my son. And there was something about this Jesus that I have never felt from any human being. If he is a prophet, I think he is the greatest one we have seen here in Judea.
Many in the crowd who saw my son rise said that God had looked favorably on his people. And I too felt that God was holding us in the palm of his hand. We gave thanks to this God who had done the impossible.
I have my son back with me now, and we are very happy. But I will never forget what it was to lose him. And I know that if another woman in my village loses a child -- and if for some reason we cannot find Jesus -- I will reach out to her with the compassion he showed me. I will tell her she is made in God’s image, as the Scriptures say. That God loves her and her lost child. That I hurt for and with her. That in time the pain will become easier to bear. And I will never turn my back on her, as Jesus did not turn his back on me.
I will not say to her – as some said to me – that God is punishing her, or her child who died. What could a child do to deserve death? What could I have done, though I am far from perfect, to deserve the death of my son? This is judgment, humans judging each other, when we speak that way.
In Jesus, I heard something different. When he prayed to restore my son, he spoke to God as if God was his own parent. He prayed as if this God did not want to destroy human beings, but wills health and life for his creatures. Jesus did not judge my son or me; he helped us. He didn’t turn and walk away because he was too busy, or too important. How can I, in turn, call myself a follower of Jesus if I refuse to comfort those who mourn?
Jesus has been gone from Na’in for some time now. I don’t know if he will ever be back. I hear that many seek him, in Judea and beyond. But I will always remember what he did for my son and me. I will remember his kind eyes that knew the best and worst of life. I will remember the tears he cried over my son. And the way he looked at me, not through me. The dignity with which he treated me. As if he understood what it means to love greatly, and because of that love, to suffer, sacrifice, and rejoice, sometimes all at the same time. As if he knew what it was to love the way a mother or a father loves.
+++
Update
As was mentioned in the last update we have now entered into the period of the church year known as ordinary time. I wish to briefly reiterate Laura's sense that this is a time for reflection and action. This is the time when the Scriptures we encounter on Sundays direct us to the life of faith. I encourage us to take this season of the church year to reflect and act on what we have encountered in our journey from Advent to Pentecost. For some it may be something new you have learned about God, or for others a new understanding of the faith, or for others maybe something about God and our faith that had been backdrop has been pulled to the foreground. What we have celebrated from Advent to Pentecost is the core of our faith, and the reason for any action we take in the world as Christians. These seasons feasts and fasts tell us who we are and how we are held in God. Take some time to rest and reflect in God, and from that find the ways God is calling you individually and us corporately to act in the world.
Announcements:
Jubilee USA's Annual 2007 Grassroots Conference... is this weekend June 15-17. Find out more about Sabbath Economics, the international debt crisis, economic justice, and globalization. Some of us from Reconciler are attending.
The Social Action Committee meeting is set for every second Tuesday of month at the 'Nidge, at 7:30 PM. But has been rescheduled for the following Tuesday June 19. Contact Jeremy John for more information.
Council meetings are every third Thursday of the Month our next Council meeting will be June 21st, at the 'Nidge, 7:30 PM.
Summer events:
Summer Neighborhood Festivals:
Reconciler has decided to have a booth at two summer festivals this year. We will need members of Reconciler to commit to help staff these booths at intervals over the weekends of the festivals. Sign up sheets for the festival held on July 14 and 15th will be coming soon.
The festivals and their dates are:
Celebrate Clark Street July 14 & 15
Glenwood Arts Festival August 25 and 26th
Our focus at the Glenwood Arts Festival will be Larry’s iconography and any of our artists in the congregation who might want to display their work.
Potluck Supper and Reading of the book of James at Charity and Jeremy’s house TBA. This is sponsored by the Social Action Committee.
'Nidge North (AKA Tripp and Trish's house) Potlucks and Movie nights TBA
Shared Worship with Immanuel Lutheran Church -- Sunday morning 10:30 August 5. No worship service at Reconciler that evening. Come worship with us Sunday morning, as we seek to deepen our connection to the Immanuel and St. Elias congregations, on our common "Campus of Discipleship."
In Christ,
Larry Kamphausen
Announcements:
Jubilee USA's Annual 2007 Grassroots Conference... is this weekend June 15-17. Find out more about Sabbath Economics, the international debt crisis, economic justice, and globalization. Some of us from Reconciler are attending.
The Social Action Committee meeting is set for every second Tuesday of month at the 'Nidge, at 7:30 PM. But has been rescheduled for the following Tuesday June 19. Contact Jeremy John for more information.
Council meetings are every third Thursday of the Month our next Council meeting will be June 21st, at the 'Nidge, 7:30 PM.
Summer events:
Summer Neighborhood Festivals:
Reconciler has decided to have a booth at two summer festivals this year. We will need members of Reconciler to commit to help staff these booths at intervals over the weekends of the festivals. Sign up sheets for the festival held on July 14 and 15th will be coming soon.
The festivals and their dates are:
Celebrate Clark Street July 14 & 15
Glenwood Arts Festival August 25 and 26th
Our focus at the Glenwood Arts Festival will be Larry’s iconography and any of our artists in the congregation who might want to display their work.
Potluck Supper and Reading of the book of James at Charity and Jeremy’s house TBA. This is sponsored by the Social Action Committee.
'Nidge North (AKA Tripp and Trish's house) Potlucks and Movie nights TBA
Shared Worship with Immanuel Lutheran Church -- Sunday morning 10:30 August 5. No worship service at Reconciler that evening. Come worship with us Sunday morning, as we seek to deepen our connection to the Immanuel and St. Elias congregations, on our common "Campus of Discipleship."
In Christ,
Larry Kamphausen
Tuesday, June 5
Reconciler Update
Reflection
Well, it's unofficially summer. Memorial Day is over, school's out or almost out. It's hot. And the cicadas are here.
It's also a new season in the church year. We're entering the Season after Pentecost, also known as "Ordinary Time." There are two periods of Ordinary time: the first begins after Epiphany and ends Ash Wednesday, and the second -- the one we're in now --begins after Pentecost and ends in Advent. These Ordinary times are separate from the "strong seasons" of Advent, Christmas, Lent, and Easter.
Ordinary in this case doesn't mean plain or common, but comes from the word ordinal, meaning "numbered." In Ordinary Time, Sundays are on a numbering system. For example, Sunday June 10th is "Proper 5" this year, and June 17th is "Proper 6." This system helps keep track of which Scriptures and prayers we read when.
There is something ordinary -- in a good way -- about these quieter parts of the church year. We've been blitzing through feast days and festivals, starting in Advent and working our way up to Easter and Pentecost. Lots of high points. They're important. But just as in our secular lives we need some "down time," we need a little ordinary time in our spiritual lives. To reflect on where we've come from and where we're going.
In this part of the world, church life often takes a breather in the summer. Sure, Sunday services continue, there's Vacation Bible School, church camp, maybe a mission trip. But the pace does usually slow. People are away on vacation, committees don't meet as often. Churches chill.
Things certainly aren't grinding to a halt here at Reconciler, but we are mellowing out a bit this summer, after doing a lot of good work together. We're going to socialize (spiritually) at each other's houses. One evening we'll read the Book of James together and share a meal. Other evenings, we'll watch some movies with theological content and discuss them over potluck. Some of us are attending the Jubilee conference. Others are being a presence at neighborhood festivals. We'll have a Sunday of shared worship with Immanuel Lutheran. We're doing stuff. But in a lower key. And that's all right.
In 1937, the World Council of Churches suggested that churches observe a period called "Kingdomtide" in what's now the Season after Pentecost, this season we call Ordinary Time. That didn't "take" with most of the Churches, except the Methodists and a few others, who began to observe Kingdomtide between August and Advent. Kingdomtide focuses on peace and justice issues, particularly assisting the poor, whereas the first part of the Season after Pentecost (May to August) focuses more on inner spirituality.
I think that's a good vision for us to uphold this summer -- and beyond -- as a Church: this twin focus on spirituality and social justice. Taking time to reflect on our actions, and act on our reflections. If we do that well, Ordinary Time can in its own quiet way be an extraordinary time.
In God's peace,
Laura+
The Reverend Laura Gottardi-Littell
for The Pastoral Team
The Church of Jesus Christ, Reconciler
Announcements
Jubilee USA's Annual 2007 Grassroots Conference... Come to Jubilee USA's annual 2007 grassroots conference June 15-17 to find out more about about Sabbath Economics, the international debt crisis, economic justice, and globalization. $35 early bird registration includes Saturday and Sunday lunch and breakfast. See Jeremy for more details.
The Worship Committee met and came to some agreements regarding which versions of the Lord's Prayer we want to use, and how to proceed with getting a processional cross and Eucharistic vessels. The Worship Committee will forward these recommendations to the Reconciler Council. We also had a helpful discussion on inclusive language.
Summer events to put on your calendar:
1) Potluck Supper and Reading of the book of James at Charity and Jeremy’s house TBA. This is sponsored by the Social Action Committee.
2) 'Nidge North (AKA Tripp and Trish's house) Potlucks and Movie nights TBA
3) Shared Worship with Immanuel Lutheran Church -- Sunday morning 10:30 August 5. No worship service at Reconciler that evening. Come worship with us Sunday morning, as we seek to deepen our connection to the Immanuel and St. Elias congregations, on our common "Campus of Discipleship."
4) Summer Neighborhood Festivals:
Reconciler has decided to have a booth at two summer festivals this year. We will need members of Reconciler to commit to help staff these booths at intervals over the weekends of the festivals. The festivals and their dates are:
Celebrate Clark Street July 14 & 15
Glenwood Arts Festival August 25 and 26th
Our focus at the Glenwood Arts Festival will be Larry’s iconography and any of our artists in the congregation who might want to display their work.
Well, it's unofficially summer. Memorial Day is over, school's out or almost out. It's hot. And the cicadas are here.
It's also a new season in the church year. We're entering the Season after Pentecost, also known as "Ordinary Time." There are two periods of Ordinary time: the first begins after Epiphany and ends Ash Wednesday, and the second -- the one we're in now --begins after Pentecost and ends in Advent. These Ordinary times are separate from the "strong seasons" of Advent, Christmas, Lent, and Easter.
Ordinary in this case doesn't mean plain or common, but comes from the word ordinal, meaning "numbered." In Ordinary Time, Sundays are on a numbering system. For example, Sunday June 10th is "Proper 5" this year, and June 17th is "Proper 6." This system helps keep track of which Scriptures and prayers we read when.
There is something ordinary -- in a good way -- about these quieter parts of the church year. We've been blitzing through feast days and festivals, starting in Advent and working our way up to Easter and Pentecost. Lots of high points. They're important. But just as in our secular lives we need some "down time," we need a little ordinary time in our spiritual lives. To reflect on where we've come from and where we're going.
In this part of the world, church life often takes a breather in the summer. Sure, Sunday services continue, there's Vacation Bible School, church camp, maybe a mission trip. But the pace does usually slow. People are away on vacation, committees don't meet as often. Churches chill.
Things certainly aren't grinding to a halt here at Reconciler, but we are mellowing out a bit this summer, after doing a lot of good work together. We're going to socialize (spiritually) at each other's houses. One evening we'll read the Book of James together and share a meal. Other evenings, we'll watch some movies with theological content and discuss them over potluck. Some of us are attending the Jubilee conference. Others are being a presence at neighborhood festivals. We'll have a Sunday of shared worship with Immanuel Lutheran. We're doing stuff. But in a lower key. And that's all right.
In 1937, the World Council of Churches suggested that churches observe a period called "Kingdomtide" in what's now the Season after Pentecost, this season we call Ordinary Time. That didn't "take" with most of the Churches, except the Methodists and a few others, who began to observe Kingdomtide between August and Advent. Kingdomtide focuses on peace and justice issues, particularly assisting the poor, whereas the first part of the Season after Pentecost (May to August) focuses more on inner spirituality.
I think that's a good vision for us to uphold this summer -- and beyond -- as a Church: this twin focus on spirituality and social justice. Taking time to reflect on our actions, and act on our reflections. If we do that well, Ordinary Time can in its own quiet way be an extraordinary time.
In God's peace,
Laura+
The Reverend Laura Gottardi-Littell
for The Pastoral Team
The Church of Jesus Christ, Reconciler
Announcements
Jubilee USA's Annual 2007 Grassroots Conference... Come to Jubilee USA's annual 2007 grassroots conference June 15-17 to find out more about about Sabbath Economics, the international debt crisis, economic justice, and globalization. $35 early bird registration includes Saturday and Sunday lunch and breakfast. See Jeremy for more details.
The Worship Committee met and came to some agreements regarding which versions of the Lord's Prayer we want to use, and how to proceed with getting a processional cross and Eucharistic vessels. The Worship Committee will forward these recommendations to the Reconciler Council. We also had a helpful discussion on inclusive language.
Summer events to put on your calendar:
1) Potluck Supper and Reading of the book of James at Charity and Jeremy’s house TBA. This is sponsored by the Social Action Committee.
2) 'Nidge North (AKA Tripp and Trish's house) Potlucks and Movie nights TBA
3) Shared Worship with Immanuel Lutheran Church -- Sunday morning 10:30 August 5. No worship service at Reconciler that evening. Come worship with us Sunday morning, as we seek to deepen our connection to the Immanuel and St. Elias congregations, on our common "Campus of Discipleship."
4) Summer Neighborhood Festivals:
Reconciler has decided to have a booth at two summer festivals this year. We will need members of Reconciler to commit to help staff these booths at intervals over the weekends of the festivals. The festivals and their dates are:
Celebrate Clark Street July 14 & 15
Glenwood Arts Festival August 25 and 26th
Our focus at the Glenwood Arts Festival will be Larry’s iconography and any of our artists in the congregation who might want to display their work.
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