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Showing posts from June, 2013

who shouts out hallelujah

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  who's gonna sing out loud   Martin Luther once said a theologian of glory calls evil good and good evil; while a theologian of the cross, on the other hand, calls a thing what it is. What I have come to find more and more is that this call of Martin Luther is less of a cool expression, as it is true and important.   Clarity, precisions, accuracy; these are all important. They are as important, as they are elusive. Having clarity, being precise, achieving accuracy; if we could manage these feats even half the time, life would be pretty good. The fact of the matter is, though, that having the insight to actually call a thing what it is, is incredibly difficult. Luther's call, seems an idealistic dream... All we have to do is open the newspaper and it is all too apparent that the ability to call a thing what it is, is sorely missing. If you want to observe striving after accuracy at its most pathetic; just skip ahead to the letters to the editor.

even after death & dirt

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The Holy Gospel according to St. Luke! Normally she cherished such calls. Now that her husband had passed, every phone call her daughter made was a treasure. Suddenly, though, the phone was heavy in her hand. Suddenly, though, this conversation was by no means a treasure. This mother couldn't believe what her daughter had said, what she had heard... So it was when her only-daughter made the announcement to the congregation that news finally sunk in. Her legs stuck to the ground, her head felt as it it were deep underwater with tides pushing her this way and that, and all around her a terrible roar. This widow wondered if the world itself had been turned upon itself. "I have a brain-tumor that will eventually take my life," her daughter had said to the congregation. "I'd like your prayers." It wasn't right, burying her daughter - it should be the other way around, the mother thought... But so it was, that someone in the congre

heaven is so big

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you don't need to look up TheGospel for this Sunday is so interesting, so loaded with humanity, so incredible that the problem for the preacher isn't "what can I preach," but rather "where to begin." The scene is set, right after Jesus heals a Gentile he goes to another town in Galilee, and as he enters the city his entourage is interrupted by another; an entourage of death. A young man; young enough not to be married yet, but presumably old enough to provide some economic support to his widowed mother; has died. There is a funeral procession carrying this young man outside the city, so the mother can bury her son. It is tragic. As the two parties cross paths, however, something remarkable happens. Jesus breaks from the entourage of life, and in so doing, interrupts the procession of the entourage of death. Jesus breaks from his group to cross the boundary of clean/unclean; the boundary of life into death. When Jesus does this, tim

we need faith

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for the same reason it's so hard to find   The Holy Gospel according to St. Luke the SeventhChapter! He sat there, shifting his weight to one side and then the other. It wasn't because of discomfort, though; he was anxious... Behind him, a room. In that room a beloved slave was dying. In front of him, the doorway. A little ways out the doorway, a procession of respected elders bringing Jesus; Jesus the prophet, the healer... He didn't feel worthy...   She sat there, shoulders tense, wondering if anyone was looking at her slip of paper. It wasn't that the question was complex, it was simple: How have you been blessed to bless others. The slip of paper sat on her lap, blank. She didn't think she had an answer that was worthy of writing down... They sat there together, eyes down. They sat there, fiddling with their hands, digging their feet into the ground. It wasn't that the request was too much, simply fetching someone. It wasn't t