These blogs are the true and unedited me. They are spiritual, religiously liturgical, honest, and transparent. This is me.
Thursday, July 20, 2023
A Review of the Book "Creating Meaningful Funeral Experiences" by Allan D Wolfelt
Wednesday, July 19, 2023
A Life Full of Choices: A Sermon Delivered at Luther Village Family Camp
Does anyone here
like to cook or bake?
Over
the years, I have discovered that cooking and baking are two very different
things. In cooking, I start with a recipe to get the base list of ingredients
and cooking times. If the recipe is new, I might buy the exact ingredients I
need. Very often, though, I am missing an ingredient or two and either drop
them from the meal or replace them. It’s fairly easy to change up things like
the protein, the vegetable, and even some of the seasonings to use what I
already happen to have on hand. I especially love making chili because I can
open the fridge, freezer, and cupboards and just throw in whatever ingredients
I find!
I
learned pretty quickly that a baking recipe really needs to be followed to the
letter. The exact amount of flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and the like
must be used or the recipe turns out either completely different or completely
disastrous. There isn’t total rigidity. When I was baking the banana bread, I
changed the walnuts for chocolate chips, but for the most part, baking requires
you to be specific in what ingredients are used and how much.
Baking
is a science. You should always pick the best ingredients and follow the law of
the recipe. Cooking is more flexible. Sure, you could go out and buy the best
ingredients, or you could cook with what you have and let God take care of the
rest. Of course, in the end, just because you follow the recipe, doesn’t mean
everything will work out. Sometimes, we make poor choices in ingredients. I
once replaced pasta with lentils (because I had some in the cupboard and wanted
to use them up) and ended up with mush. I think we ended up ordering pizza that
night.
Our
lives are full of choices, and not just in the kitchen. We live with so many
choices, so many obligations, so many demands and opportunities that can become
overwhelming. How often have you had two opportunities fall into your lap and
you had to spend time weighing out the pros and cons, praying that you will
make the right decision? How many times in your life have you made a choice
knowing that you have to just wait and see what happens in order to see the
fruits of that decision?
This
is where today’s parable comes in. Yes, the sower planted with good seeds. Yes,
there are now weeds strewn among the wheat that puts the ideal harvest the
sower had imagined at risk. Ideally, the servants could just rip out the weeds,
but the sower knows that to tear out the weeds now risks ruining the maturing
wheat as well. And so the sower must wait, living with both the wheat and the
weeds until the day of harvest when they may be separated in due time.
Our
lives are littered with situations where there is no clear or easy answer. That
is where faith becomes so important. In this parable, Jesus tells us that in
challenging situations we have the promise that, in the end, God will sort
things out. That doesn’t mean everything will turn out just fine. Sometimes we
don’t choose well. Sometimes things go wrong.
We
don’t live in an ideal world and each week we’re faced with challenging
decisions, some small and others large, to which there is no clear answer. Some
decisions we’ll get right, others wrong, and still others we won’t know whether
we were right or wrong for months or years to come. But we still need to make
them. And then, each week, no matter how we fared, we can come back to church
on Sunday morning to be reminded that God loves us anyway and promises that, in
the end, God will hold all of our choices and all of our lives together in
love.
The
promise here isn’t that Christian faith prevents hardship; the promise is that
we are not justified by our right choices but rather by grace through faith.
And knowing we have God’s boundless goodness, love, welcome, and forgiveness in spite of our choices frees us to live in the moment.
Amen.
Tuesday, July 18, 2023
A Review of the Book "The Anglican Tradition" Edited by Richard Holloway
Friday, July 14, 2023
A Review of the Book "Queer Virtue" by Reverend Elizabeth M Edman
Wednesday, July 12, 2023
The Parable of the Soil, the Seed, and the Sower: A Sermon for the 7th Week After Pentecost
Jesus loves to
teach through story, but, if you ask me, none of his stories are straight
forward. They are interpreted by the listener through their perspective and
often different listeners gain different lessons. The parable of the sower is
no exception.
When
hearing the parable of the sower, do you see yourself as the soil, the seed, or
the sower?
Scattering
seed was (and in some places still is) a relatively efficient way to plant a
large field of grain. The procedure described in the parable is faithful to the
manner in which a Palestinian farmer would have gone about the work. A sower goes
out to sow, scattering the seed wildly, not in neat little rows like how most
people try to plant their garden.
In
Palestine, the grain was harvested in June, and the field was left until the
sowing time of November or December. The field might be plowed after the
harvest, but it was not plowed again before the new crop was sowed. So, the
sower was walking across stubble that had grown in the field after the last
harvest. The farmer would throw the seeds across the ground, trying to cover as
much area as possible. Then it was plowed quickly so that the birds did not eat
the majority of the seed.
It
makes sense then that some seed would fall on the walking path that would later
be plowed, some eaten by the birds, some into the thistle bushes, and some onto
hidden limestone in the soil.
The
seed on the limestone would grow quickly but burn in the sun. The seed in the
thistle bushes would be hidden from the sun and not grow at all. It could be
quite discouraging for the farmer, but the seed that fell into the good soil
would grow plentifully.
Planting
is only part of the job. We cannot control the sunshine or the rain or see what
is going on beneath the earth. But we trust that what we have planted will
grow, bloom, and bring forth a harvest.
Are
we the sower or the seeds? Are we planting or being planted?
There
is a third angle at which we can view this parable – that we are neither the
seed nor the sower, but instead we are the soil.
As
every gardener knows, it’s all about the soil. Without good soil, worked with
compost, seeds cannot flourish. The seed that lands where the soil has become
hardened from being repeatedly walked on simply sits on the surface, waiting to
become food for the birds. The seed that falls on rocky soil has difficulty
taking root because the soil inhibits the growth of roots, necessary for plants
to access the nutrients in the soil. The seed that falls on ground covered in
thorns must compete with already well-established, invasive plants and stands
little chance. But the seed that falls on the soil that has been prepared,
turned over and loosened until it is fine, replenished with nutrients from the
decaying matter of leaves, thrives.
Rather
than being about the planter of the word (as the sower), or the word itself (as
the seed), perhaps the parable is about the soil, as the hearers of God’s word?
Soil,
like human beings, is shaped by its environment. So, if soil is walked on over
and over again, beaten down so that it becomes packed hard, it is no longer fit
for the planting of seeds. We see this in the human community too. People who
have been walked on over, and over, and over again often develop a hardened exterior
to protect themselves.
Rocky
soil, says Jesus, describes those who lack the staying power to deal with rocky
ground. When the going gets rough, they go into retreat.
The
soil filled with thorns easily translates into our overcrowded lives; there is
no room in an already overplanted plot for anything more, even with
double-digging the beds.
Good
soil takes years to cultivate. It must be fed, nurtured by the remains of
plants that have come and gone. It must be worked and reworked so that it
becomes supple, but not worked so hard that its structure is broken down. And
it must be replenished, as seeds grow and draw on its nutrients. Good soil can
develop in nature, as years of leaves fall and dissolve into the earth. Good
soil can also be the work of gardeners, who tend the soil as carefully as they
tend the plants.
While
we set about cultivating good soil, we are not without hope. It is true that
seeds landing on hard or rocky ground stand less of a chance of gaining root
and thriving, but it does, sometimes, happen.
So,
it is with God’s Word, which we are to scatter wildly, telling people of the
love and forgiveness that only comes from God. God directs the Word, opening
hardened hearts to hear and drawing people near. God’s Word carries out the
purposes God desires. It never returns empty. Just as the Spirit of God moved
over the earth at Creation, so the Spirit of God continues to move in our
lives, creating new life through God’s amazing Word of hope.
There
are remarkable pictures of trees growing out of rocks and flowers that push up
through the pavement. These tenacious plants offer signs that the word of God
will continue to find a way to grow even on the days when we feel beaten down,
or overcome by thorns, or at our rockiest.
Where
might God be calling you to scatter seeds of love wildly today?
What
does it mean to be good soil, prepared to receive the word of God?
How
do we assess what kind of shape our soil is in?
What
would we need to do for the seed to be able to take root in our bodies and
souls?
How
will we know if this is happening?
And
how might we nurture good soil in those around us?
What
a formidable responsibility on behalf of those waiting to hear God’s word! But
we do not sow seed alone and we are not the only yard of soil in the ground.
Other
disciples go with us sharing their unique gifts. The Holy Spirit empowers us to
do God’s will and promises that the word of God we share will not return empty.
This is the magnificent power and grace of God who produces a crop a hundred
times more than what we expect.
So,
are you the soil, the seed, or the sower?
Perhaps
we are a little bit of all three.
Amen.