RoboPreacher

for your trials and tribulations  A question I often get, goes something like this, “Oh Pastor, what are we going to do? You know, attendance isn’t what it used to be...” Of course I never begrudge anyone for asking that question. In fact, I am glad the questioner cares enough to at least ask. The problem I have with the question, though, is that it assumes our predicament is incomprehensible and that the only possible solution will come from hiring an outside expert ... It’s those assumptions hidden beneath the question that give me pause. The truth is, Jesus began his whole enterprise with twelve folks who were decidedly un professional; fishers, outcasts, deniers and betrayers. All in all, pretty common people... Furthermore, you didn’t call me as an expert in organizational growth; you called me to proclaim Christ and him crucified.  The problem is that the way we agonize over the plight of the church, and we aren’t alone , doesn’t serve us well  because

The Gospel we just heard should be read at every funeral. This Gospel should be read, because it knows what’s at stake . “ Do you believe ?” After all, today is something of a mixed bag.  Today we commend Bob to his maker, and of course it is with no little sorrow that we come to this moment. Bob was a wonderful man, father and friend who will be missed.  Yet at the same time, Bob had been struggling with his health for a while now. He was completely clear that he was ready and living at the Burlington Care Center was something of a trial for him. So as we grieve, we take comfort in that fact that Bob is now granted rest. We come here today with plenty of mixed emotions, conflicting thoughts. And the truth is, this story of Lazarus knows the conflict we bring to these places; this story knows the same jumble of hope and sorrow, peace of mind and grief that we always bring with us to a funeral. In today’s Gospel we hear about Martha, in the midst of grieving, s

Bill was a dedicated guy. He knew an honest day’s labor.  Bill grew up on a farm, putting in the hard manual work. Even running the two miles from the farm to the school and then back home to do the chores; only to turn around run back to the school again to go to practice for football, basketball or some other sport. Amidst all that, Bill even managed to be a straight-A student, dedicated as he was. And when his father died, he even raised his younger brother; Bob.  That’s just how Bill was, though.  He wasn’t afraid of hard-work. It was a skill that served him and his loved ones well.  After so many years of hard-work, Bill retired. Even then, though, he was always finding something to do. He was always willing to lend a hand with whatever project Debbie and Dwight were working on, or to cultivate whatever was interesting to his grandchildren, Ben and Chase. As Bill got older, though, his willingness to put in the work began to turn on him. As his health d

you might as well pray Its Trinity Sunday - Our name -sake day! Today we meditate on the doctrine we profess: one God; Father, Son and Holy Spirit… For as satisfying as it is to talk in circles about the Trinity, though; truthfully, this day is “red herring.” The temptation of this day is to explain away the Trinity; which is a sermon no one wants to hear and no one can give. In fact, if you want to really learn about the Trinity read the words from the hymn we just sang (Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty), look at the man who watched his wife pass away a few days ago and is here today and singing “glory to God,” look at the parents with enough to do and yet got their children ready and are here. The truth is, I’m up here for a reason and the problem with Trinity Sunday is the simple fact is, the doctrine of the Trinity doesn’t preach worth a darn.  There’s primarily two related reasons why the doctrine of the Trinity doesn’t preach. And as it turns out,

on which we feed It’s Pentecost! The truth, however, is we’re not sure what to do with this day, with Pentecost. All that business of coming of the Holy Spirit, the rushing and violent wind, the ecstatic speaking in tongues, the uncontrollable wildfire ; all that just makes us a little too uncomfortable for some reason…  Now during middle school I took much pleasure in doing what middle school boys do; causing trouble in small but obnoxious ways.  One summer my friend Jacob went to vacation in Branson and while he was there, he was able to lay his hands on fireworks . That entire summer we’d sneak away, roaming town, waiting for the all clear. When the moment was right, we’d light the fuse and run. *BOOM* It was great . As that summer wore on his stash got smaller and smaller. As fall was winding down there were only a few black-cats and smoke-bombs left. So, one afternoon, while his sister was watching us, we finished them off.  We were having fun lighting bla