The death of Francis Asbury

Francis Asbury

Francis Asbury, one of the first bishops of the American Methodist Church, died on this date in 1816.  This blog covers some details of his life recently.  You can find that post here.  This gives me a chance to tell one of my favorite stories.  It is about Asbury.  As observed earlier, Asbury rode an estimated quarter of a million miles on horseback or in carriages (later in life due to failing health).  He preached in all sorts of places, both densely inhabited and sparsely-populated.  In most of the locales in which he stopped there was no inn or other form of commercial hospitality.  So, he would stay with layfolk who would put him up for a night or two.  When he came to a settlement and was looking for a place to stay, he didn’t ask, “Who has the biggest, most comfortable house in town?” or “Where might I find the softest bed?” or “Who is the best cook in these parts?” 

His inquiry instead was always the same: “Are there any praying people here?”  Finding an answer in the affirmative, he would solicit shelter with these folks, no matter what their financial state might be.

I think that is a delightful way to remember a man of faith on the anniversary of his death.  I draw no other moral or comment.

The death of Charles Wesley

Charles Wesley

Today marks the death in 1788 of Charles Wesley.  He is the lesser-known brother of John Wesley.  Charles was, in his own right, influential in the establishing of the Methodist movement in England.  He was the youngest of the 19 children born to Samuel and Susannah Wesley.  He was born December 8, 1707.  He introduced his brother John to George Whitfield while they were all students at Oxford.  Charles, Whitfield and others had already begun some of the activities that would evolve into the establishing of The Oxford Holy Club, the forerunner of Methodism in Britain. 

Charles traveled to America in 1735 and served as a secretary to Governor James Oglethorpe and chaplain to the soldiers of the Georgia colony.  While in Georgia he published The Charleston Hymnal, the first hymnal published in America.  He met with indifferent success and returned to England the following year.

Upon his return he married Sarah Gwynne (Sally).  Of their seven children three survived past infancy.  Upon his marriage he ceased the widespread travels of his brother and confined his activity to London and Bristol.

We know Charles Wesley primarily through his hymns.  He was a prolific writer, and in one stretch of his life he wrote a hymn per day as a devotional exercise.  Some of the better-known hymn texts include:

Arise my soul arise

And Can It Be That I Should Gain?

Christ the Lord Is Risen Today

Christ, Whose Glory Fills the Skies

Come, O Thou Traveler Unknown

Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus

Depth of Mercy, Can it Be

Father, I Stretch My Hands to Thee

Hail the Day that Sees Him Rise

Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

Jesus, Lover of My Soul

Jesus, The Name High Over All

Lo! He Comes with Clouds Descending

Love Divine, All Loves Excelling

O for a Heart to Praise My God

O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing

Rejoice, the Lord is King

Soldiers of Christ, Arise

Sun of Unclouded Righteousness

Thou Hidden Source of Calm Repose

Ye Servants of God

Wesley wrote his hymns in a time when the rank and file members of the Methodist movement were semi-literate at best.  So, he taught the theology of Methodism through the hymns.  These are not sappy, emotional songs with mindless refrains.  If you examine the content of his works you find that they contain massive amounts of scripture allusions.  They also transmit the truth of the Christian faith, especially the Methodist emphases on grace and evangelism.  Wesley wrote scores of texts for Eucharistic Hymns.  These remain a source for discerning the sacramental theology of Methodism to this day.

Charles did not march in lock-step with John, and they differed on a number of issues.  But their agreements were stronger than their disputes and they helped matters along in the early years of the movement.  Charles remained a Church of England priest until his death. 

Of lections and lectionaries – one more time

In the discussion of lectionaries let me be quick to say that there are numerous lectionaries that appear throughout history or that are in use today.  There is a four-year, thirty-two-weeklectionary that campus ministries use to move a campus community through worship life in a campus setting.  There is a resource called The Narrative Lectionary that is picking up a lot of traction recently, especially in churches with a more contemporary emphasis to their worship.  Having said all this, I confine most of the rest of these thoughts to the RCL.

The question frequently arises: “Why use the lectionary at all?”  Akin to that is, “Does the church compel you to use the lectionary?”  Answering the latter first, the answer is a profound, “No!”  The Revised Common Lectionary is a resource, but a voluntary one only.

As to the question of “why?” there are several responses.  First, it makes planning a lot easier.  If you have been reading these thoughts from the beginning, you know that my initial query was, “What to preach?”  The RCL gives me a tool in the face of that necessary question.  The preacher always has a right to depart from the lectionary for a day, a season or a year if need be.  But it is handy to have these suggestions in one’s back pocket when staring at a blank piece of paper.

Again, having such a resource makes planning a different activity altogether.  I have a lifelong friend who is old school.  He looks to circumstance, to occasion and inspiration for his selection of preaching texts.  This practice has served him just fine.  He has found a way to make planning for this approach work for him.  He will admit that he can’t (or doesn’t) plan as far ahead as lectionary users, but he believes that this keeps his approach fresh and not “canned.”  I got that.  If that works for someone, my hat is off to them.  I like the safety net of being able to look a week, a month or a season ahead and at least have an idea of the possibilities.

Using a lectionary also helps people with other worship responsibilities (musicians, providers of visuals, etc.) do their preparation.  A lectionary user can say to these folks, “In all probability this is what I’m going to do on a given Sunday.”  A preacher might even take the next step and commit to the lectionary for a certain period and take the guesswork out altogether.

There is some strength in knowing that churches of your denomination – or other denominations – just down the road will be focusing on the same scripture reading that you are this Sunday.  Water cooler talk the next day becomes, “My preacher talked about thus-and-so yesterday.”  Others can respond, “Mine, too.”  This can result in in truly meaningful dialog across congregational or denominational lines.

Lectionary preachers often find that their denominational Sunday School lesson books and other educational materials follow the lectionary.  This integrates Christian education and worship so that church people can be immersed in a passage or topic.  Close cooperation allows teachers to pursue parallel themes to those that the preacher presents in worship.

Preaching a lectionary will also compel a preacher to visit some unfamiliar ground.  The preacher might even face uncomfortable texts that we never would have considered if we were pursuing well-known (and well-worn) readings.

It is also the case that for some of us, if we are left to our own devices and desires, would tend to preach a dozen favorite passages over and over.  I myself would end up preaching the Sermon on the Mount about 45 Sundays a year.  A commitment to a lectionary helps keep the preacher honest.

It is true that a three-year consideration of the Bible of necessity omits some readings.  The Book of Numbers gets short shrift.  The Song of Solomon, if I’m not mistaken, doesn’t have any readings at all in the RCL.  But, beyond that, there are some substantial texts from the gospels and the epistles that get left out.  It may well be that lectionary preachers would occasionally call a moratorium on its use for the sake of inclusion.  Whatever it substituted for will come back around before you know it.  (Visit this link and go to the question, "Where can I get a list of those passages of the Bible that are not included in the Revised Common Lectionary for Sundays? In other words, what passages of scripture are left out of the Lectionary?")

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to start Sunday’s sermon…

Of lections and lectionaries – again

As it stands now the format of the Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) is as follows.  The RCL covers a three-year cycle that begins with Advent and runs through Ordinary Time.  The lectionary designates the years (creatively) as years A, B and C.  Year A begins with Advent of 2016, 2019, 2022 and so on.  Year B follows the three-year plan and comes around again in Advent of 2020.  We are currently in year C which began with Advent of 2018.  The ABC designations cut down on the confusion that having a lectionary that covers most of a given year starting the previous year can cause.

The Old Testament readings in year A concentrates on the Genesis/Exodus material.  Year B covers much of the David and Solomon narrative.  Year C generally come from the Major Prophets.  In each of these cycles there is material from other books, but these three themes dominate.

The intention of the Psalter selections is that they offer some kind of commentary on the Old Testament reading.  At times they repeat or intensify the OT lection.  But at other times they offer a contrasting point of view.  But together the OT and Psalter for a given day usually provide an expanded treatment of a topic.

The epistle readings are semi-continuous through individual books.  However, they do not follow canonical order.  Several weeks of readings from Philippians follows over a month of selections from 1 Corinthians in the current cycle, for example.

The gospel readings provide a year-long consideration of one of the synoptic gospels.  Year A is the year of Matthew.  Year B follows Mark.  Year C is the year of Luke.  The RCL scatters readings from the Gospel of John throughout all three years.  This is especially the case in Advent, Lent and Holy Week.

The RCL follows an ancient church practice of substituting readings from The Acts of the Apostles for the OT lessons in the season of Easter.

There are some alternative readings, frequently for the OT and Psalter, but for some of the other categories throughout the lectionary as well.  These are not so readily resourced as the primary readings.

The RCL readings follow the Christian liturgical year.  So, there are seasonally appropriate readings for Advent, Christmas, the Season after Epiphany, Lent, Easter and the Season after Pentecost.  The two seasons of Ordinary Time (so named because the lectionary designates the Sundays of the Season after Epiphany and the Season after Pentecost as “the second Sunday after the Epiphany,” or “the fourth Sunday after Pentecost,” rather than Sundays “in” or “of” a particular season, as is the case in the rest of the year) are of indeterminate length year to year.  This is because Easter Day does not fall on the same date each year.  It can occur as early as March 22 and as late as April 25.  Since Lent commences 46 days prior to Easter (on Ash Wednesday), and since The Epiphany is always January 6, that means that the length of the Season after Epiphany differs in length year to year.  By the same token, the earlier the occurrence of Easter, the longer the Season after Pentecost (which comes fifty days after Easter) will be.

One of the early difficulties with the common Lectionary was that with as many as nine Sundays after Epiphany or as few as four, there had to be nine readings available for the season.  Some churches were chopping the extra readings off the first of the list, while others were omitting the readings from the latter weeks in shorter seasons.  The same decision existed for the time after Pentecost, and again, some resources skipped the earlier Sunday lections while others took readings off the conclusion of the list.  In the revised iterations, the lectionary designates readings for Sundays that fall between a certain set of dates, no matter when the seasons begin or conclude.

We’ll wrap this up tomorrow.

Of lections and lectionaries

In the early, early days of my ministry (we won’t talk about how long ago that was right now) one of my greatest struggles had to do with preaching.  That is not unusual for a young preacher – or any preacher.  The particular struggle did not have to do so much with composition or exegesis or delivery.  My struggle was, “Where to start?”  I didn’t have a lot of luck with pulling a text out of the air or cracking the Bible open randomly and selecting a pericope.

My first time or two I turned to the one-year lectionary in The Book of Worship for Church and Home.  This was the (at that time) Methodist Church’s official worship book.  That lectionary was a bit haphazard and had no internal continuity at all.  It was a place to start, but it was a meager place to begin.

A lectionary is a table of either suggested or prescribed scripture readings for each Sunday of the year, plus whatever holy days a particular group might observe.  Typically, there is a reading from the Old Testament, a separate reading from the book of Psalms, an epistle reading and a gospel reading.  At times in history, or in the practice of some communions, the church or a denomination required the reading of one or more of the texts that it assigned to a particular day.  For other groups a lectionary offered suggestions for reading in public worship. (There are other lectionaries, such as the two-year daily lectionary in The Book of Common Prayer, that are meant for private devotional use instead of public worship.)

I attended an event that offered training in a variety of areas for newly-minted preachers.  It presented material on pastoral care and administration and worship among other topics.  When we started to talk about preaching, the presenter gave each participant a small blue booklet that the Consultation on Church Union (the now-defunct COCU) published.  Its title was simply A Lectionary.  The sub-group responsible was the Consultation on Common Texts.  Initially this group sought to establish common versions of liturgical materials (such as Gloria, Creed, Lord’s Prayer, etc.) that COCU members used in common.  Work on these items determined that the fullest use of these elements in an ecumenical setting would require agreement on scripture that surrounded these other worship pieces.  So, COCU developed this first pass at a jointly-employed lectionary.

In 1983 the group finished its work on harmonizing the variants that various churches within the COCU family employed.  The result was The Common Lectionary.  There were a number of revisions of the initial document.  Many had to do with replacing readings from The Apocrypha that many churches were using in the Old Testament Slot.  The Consultation on Common Texts issued a refined version of the lectionary in 1992.  This Revised Common Lectionary reflected several cycles of use.  Subsequently some tweaks have been made, to the point where some publications refer to The New Common Lectionary. But this is an unofficial title.

I’ll look at this some more tomorrow.

The Annunciation

The Annunciation
by Henry Ossawa Tanner

Today is The Feast of the Annunciation to Mary, the celebration of the announcing to Mary by the angel Gabriel that she would be the mother of the Savior of the world.  We find the account in Luke 1:26-38.

Most Christian traditions revere Mary to one degree or another.  Roman Catholics and Orthodox churches call her theotokos – the mother of God.  Protestant churches (for a lot of reasons, some of them a bit convoluted) have not historically elevated her in the same way.  But they look to her as an example of obedience and humility.

Her question, “How can this be?” sums up much of her situation.  In the end she does not understand, but she submits.  This is the essence of faith.

Anglican, Roman and Eastern churches observe the feast on this day.  Some communions choose instead to follow the practice of the ancient Spanish – Mozarabic—calendar and observe the feast on December 28.  The rationale for this is that it removes the feast day from the season of Lent, and it locates the observance nearer to the observation of Christmas.

Francis Asbury’s last sermon

It was on this date in 1816 that Francis Asbury, one of the first two bishops of The Methodist Episcopal Church, preached his last sermon.  He was born August 20 or 21, 1745 in Hamstead Bridge, Staffordshire, England.  At age 25 he came to America as a Methodist minister and for the next 45 years he preached, organized churches and established schools, largely in the frontier. Sent by John Wesley in England, Thomas coke and others ordained Asbury as a General Superintendent at the Christmas Conference of 1784.  Coke fancied the title “bishop,” and used the title for himself and Asbury from the time of the Conference on.  Asbury didn’t prefer that title but acquiesced to the wishes of the elder Coke.

When he first arrived in the American colonies, he preached his first sermon at Woodrow, Staten Island. Within the first 17 days of being in the colonies, Asbury had preached in Philadelphia and New York. During the first year in which he was Wesley's assistant in America, he preached in 25 different settlements. When the American Revolutionary War broke out in 1776, he and James Dempster were the only Methodist ministers to remain in America.

During his ministry in America Asbury traveled over a quarter of a million miles, mostly by horseback until his health began to fail him in his later years.  Then, he traveled by carriage. In the fall of 1800, he attended a joint Presbyterian and Methodist multi-day religious gathering.   Part of the experience was that worshipers camped on the grounds of the meeting-houses.  This gathering made a deep impression on Asbury and he promoted such events for the rest of his ministry.  “Camp Meetings” would become an important part of the spread of Methodism in the frontier.

Asbury’s health began to fail him seriously in 1814, but he rallied in 1816 and returned to his former activities.  However, his health once again slowed him and so he preached one last time on March 24, 1816.  He died at the home of George Arnold near Fredericksburg" on March 31.

Upon the Collect of the Day

O God, whose glory it is always to have mercy: Be gracious to all who have gone astray from your ways, and bring them again with penitent hearts and steadfast faith to embrace and hold fast the unchangeable truth of your Word, Jesus Christ your Son; who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns,

one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

This is the collect for the week (The Second Sunday in Lent) from The Book of Common Prayer. As with most of the prayers in this volume this collect has a simple elegance that I find in few other places.  If you compare the BCP to most of the liturgical and prayer resources of The United Methodist Church the UMC material hides its face in shame.  One of my mentors in commenting on Methodism’s rituals told me, “Some day our church will employ a poet as part of the liturgy production process, and we’ll be far better off than we are now.”

Truer words.

But, as I consider the work at hand, one term strikes me.  It is the word “unchangeable.”   It comes in the phrase “to hold fast the unchangeable truth of your Word, Jesus Christ your Son.”  I hear this with the ears of someone who has endured the blather of the United Methodist Church’s special called General Conference of a month ago.  I heard this word and similar ones bandied about by people who seemed to have no idea what their language meant.

Because there is a difference between “unchangeable” and “unchanging.”  Unchangeable is a word that we reserve for God and Christ and the Holy Spirit.  It speaks of Truth with a capital “T.”  Unchanging is a more stubborn word and folks seem to use it to defy the reality that things of the faith and understanding and revelation are fluid in their natures.  The list of things about which the church (or much of the church) has altered the literal language of the Bible is endless.  The role of women, slavery, treatment of children, polygamy, capital punishment and a host of dietary laws do not begin to complete the list of practices that modern-day Christians have modified beyond the letter of the law in Scripture. 

Anyone who says that faith and commandment and law are static terms in the practice of the Christian religion is either naïve or spends their entire life with their head in the sand.  God is unchangeable.  Revelation is ever-changing.  That we are not bound by a rigid set of laws under penalty of damnation is affirmed in the first line of today’s collect: O God, whose glory it is always to have mercy…  If it is God’s nature to put mercy first, it seems only fitting that those who would identify themselves as children of God should do the same.

"The Word of God for the People of God"

David H. C. Read was one of the true masters of the Protestant pulpit.  He was a well-known preacher and a brilliant author.  He has been gone a long time now.  But I still vividly remember hearing him speak to a group of ministers when I was just starting out.  He had a lot to say about the craft of preaching.  But the one memorable line for me had to do with that which comes (usually) immediately before the sermon.  He had some remarks about the public reading of scripture.  He said, “I find two kinds of readers in worship.  One reads like they have never seen the text before.  The other reads as if they had written it themselves.”

It was a cautionary moment for me.  I have, since that day, tried very hard to make neither of these errors.  I hear that Scottish accent and that godly admonition every time I step to the pulpit.  Seeking that balance has helped me enjoy reading in the community a great deal. 

But if you light a candle you cast a shadow.  Dr. Read’s observation has made me aware of the tendencies of other worship leaders.  I would not think of naming a name or describing a recognizable circumstance for anything in the world.  It is not up to me to be the scripture police.

Having said that, I do make some general observations about the practice of public scripture reading.  I would recommend to anyone who accepts the charge to perform this act that they read the text several times.  Read it aloud in the same volume and cadence that you plan to use in worship.  Make certain that you can pronounce the names.  Check your phrasing to assure that the way you read makes sense.  Be confident.  And for goodness’ sake, slow down!  No one ever gets criticized for reading too slowly.  But even good readers lose their effectiveness if they rush through the reading.

To others I would say, “Remember the task that is yours!”   You are representing Holy Scripture, the Word of God, to the people of God during their adoration of their Creator.  It simply isn’t an activity that you can take lightly.  A reader can be serious without being somber.  If the reader doesn’t take the texts seriously, how can we expect the worshipers to do any differently?

A reader can’t be timid.  Nor can they murmur.  There is no power in “Mumble, mumble, mumble; this is the word of the Lord.”

This screed would be incomplete if I did not make a general observation on being just plain sloppy.  I see preachers who dash through their text as if they are trying to see how few breaths they can take before finishing.  Some treat the scripture text as if it were some kind of preliminary to get out of the way before the main event.  If they mis-read a lection, they react as if it didn’t make any difference.

When I am in worship, I appreciate that the entirety of the experience is greater than the sum of its parts.  And I am not faulting people who have prepared and executed their dead level best.  People have different gifts and it is important that a wide range of folks join in this vital community work.  What I do ask is that we treat the task with respect, with a sense of the holy.  This may be a worshipers’ only encounter with holy writ the entire week.  Let’s give it every chance to be a positive encounter.

A reflection on the epistle reading for the week

The epistle reading suggested by the New Revised Common Lectionary (NRCL) for the second Sunday in Lent is Philippians 3:17—4:1. That reading begins: Brothers and sisters, join in imitating me, and observe those who live according to the example you have in us.  In this pericope Paul uses a term that we don’t hear very often anymore.  That word is “example.” 

We see negative illustrations.  Poor paradigms of behavior dominate news reports in all media.  We find all kinds of samples of activity that we would do well to avoid.  But my question becomes, “Where are the role models?”

 I am not merely speaking of public figures whom we encourage children to imitate.  I wonder where are the positive examples, the exhibitors of outstanding character, after whom it is appropriate to model our own character?  It is difficult to describe something by what it is not.  It is challenging to speak of exemplary integrity by giving negative examples.  “Don’t be like this, or this, or this” doesn’t offer direction regarding what to pursue, only what to avoid.

Where is the figure about whom I can state, “I want to be like him/her?”  Where is the Paul of this age?  I don’t believe it is an unreasonable request.  Not only does a positive example encourage us, it also convinces us that “it can be done.”

Paul had no problems with personal insecurity.  He had a bit of an ego, and at times that gets in the way of our reading his letters.  But he walked the walk as well as talking the talk.  He reminds us of his hardships and abuses on a regular basis.  But the thing is, after the insults and beatings, he got up and continued his work exactly as before.

I have known people who encouraged me, either by their instruction or their actions.  But I don’t see so many of those folks lately.  I surely could use a role model in these days.

Edgar Rice Burroughs

It was on this date in 1950 that Edgar Rice Burroughs died.  He was the creator of Tarzan, John Carter (John Carter of Mars and others), Carson Napier (Carson of Venus and others), David Innes and Abner Perry (At the Earth’s Core series), Bowen Tyler (The Land that Time forgot stories) and a host of other fantasy and American western characters.

He was born in Chicago, IL on September 1, 1875.  Until he sold his first short story to All-Story Magazine in 1911, he was a failure in just about everything he had undertaken.  He served a term in the army, then worked as a cowboy in Idaho, then a shopkeeper, a railroad policeman, a gold miner, and even an “expert accountant”.

He was married, had two children and expected a third, and was flat broke, pawning what few possessions the family still had.  Then, he sold Under the Moons of Mars for $400 and that was a turning point in his life.  His next literary effort was Tarzan of the Apes.  He also sold this work to All Story in 1912.  The book of the same title appeared in 1914 and was a best-seller.  Over the next 36 years he penned almost 100 books and stories.  The most well-known, of course, were about Tarzan.

The first motion picture based on a Burroughs work was the 1918 silent Tarzan of the Apes.  It featured Elmo Lincoln as the first actor to portray Tarzan on screen as an adult (Gordon Griffith acts as a youthful Tarzan in a brief scene, and several unnamed infants picture Tarzan as a child).  Burroughs sold rights for individual pictures and so there were times when multiple features bearing Tarzan’s name were in the theaters in a short period of time.  Different studios distributed their own versions of the character.  Burroughs saw himself as striking while the iron was hot monetarily and saw nothing wrong with having various interpretations of his creation competing with themselves.  Notable Tarzan actors include P. Dempsey Tebler, Kamuela Cooper Searle, Gene Polar, James Pierce, Frank Merrill, Johnny Weissmuller, Buster Crabbe, Herman Brix, Glenn Morris, Lex Barker and Gordon Scott.

These are all English-language films.  There have been other theatrical releases and television incarnations but most of these have (mercifully) slipped away into history.  There have also been a host of non-English films about Tarzan or whose characters are somewhere between copies and rip-offs of the original Ape-Man.

The best-known in English-language circles are the films starring Johnny Weissmuller.  While great fun at times, the Tarzan of these movies is a loose caricature of ERB’s creation.  And, no, he never says, “Me, Tarzan; you Jane,” in any of the books (nor does he speak those precise words in any of the movies, either).  The same departure is true of other movies based on ERB creations.  John Carter and his imitators (Jumper and others), the several iterations of The Land that Time Forgot (1975, 1977, 2009), At the Earth’s Core and others all can make the claim of being loosely based on the Burroughs original (or at least having appropriated the title of a Burroughs story) but hardly any of them are true reflections of their namesakes.  Interestingly, the few that come the closest are silent films that are almost one hundred years old.

So, thanks, Mr. Burroughs, for many an entertaining hour reading your books.

Cyril of Jerusalem

Cyril of Jerusalem

Today is the Feast day of Cyril of Jerusalem.  He was bishop of the church there from C.E. 349 – 386.  We know virtually nothing of his life prior to the beginning of his episcopacy.  He followed Bishop Maximus, who hand-picked Cyril as his successor.  Cyril was deposed and reinstated three times (357, 360, 367) due mostly to the theological attacks of Acacius of Caesarea.  Acacius was the voice of Arianism in those days and was in bitter dispute with both Cyril and Athanasius of Alexandria.

Some of the controversy surrounding Cyril was due to his refusal to use the term homoousios in credal statements or in his writings.  He was in no way critical of the concept, but he considered the term itself inadequate within the technical language of his argumentation.

Cyril’s great contribution is his composition of a series of twenty-three pre-baptismal catechetical lectures.  He wrote these early in his episcopacy as instruction for those candidates who were concluding their preparation for baptism at the time of the Easter Vigil.   You can find them here. 

In lecture one he says,

While it rests with (God) to plant and water, it is your part to bring forth fruit.  It rests with God to bestow grace, but with you to accept and cherish it.  Do not despise the grace because it is freely given, but rather cherish it with reverence once you have received it.

Cyril’s lectures make for some insightful Lenten devotional reading.

Giving up something for Lent

Lent is a season that -- for some -- includes fasting as a way of observing this time.   Jesus fasted for forty days following his baptism.  During this time, he was in the wilderness being tempted by the Devil.  This fast and the Lenten season are connected by this number of days and by this fasting practice.

I don’t know that many people literally fast for this entire period.  Even with the fact that Sundays don’t make up a part of this self-denying season, I don’t hear people reflecting on their season-long denial of food.

Some folks participate in a partial fast.  They will refrain from eating until three in the afternoon, or until sunset (they hate to see Daylight Saving Time come).  Others follow a long-standing church tradition of abstaining from “pleasant food.”  I suppose that is a bit of a subjective evaluation.  One person’s “pleasant” is another one’s “rejection.”

So, observing this time with an exercise of self-denial takes on many forms.  “Giving up something for Lent” leaves the realm of food behind for a lot of people.  They instead abandon practices or diversions for these days.

It is not up to me to judge another person’s spiritual discipline.  But I would ask anyone to evaluate their choices with this question: Is that which you are setting aside good enough to give up for Lent?   What I mean by that is does a person set aside something that is bad for them and then claim it as a spiritual discipline?  I have heard people talk of giving up excessive consumption of alcohol, smoking, driving over the speed limit, cursing, overeating and a host of other behaviors in the name of observing the season.

As difficult as it may be for some individuals to set aside addictive behavior, I question the labeling of these things as a sacrificial gift that one places before the Throne of Grace.  If I “give up” overindulging of food, do I set my practice down at the feet of Christ and say, “Lord, I have given up gluttony in my devotion to you?”  I mean, isn’t gluttony one of the Seven Deadly Sins?  Isn’t it a practice that I should have avoided from the get-go?  Do I give myself permission to be a glutton again once Lent is over and Easter commences?  That just doesn’t seem right.

So, what is appropriate if we observe this practice?  I have known people who have given up seemingly small things, but they required real effort on the part of the practitioner.  One of the positives that grows out of a decision to deny something is that some believers leave behind a practice and in its place, they substitute times of prayer, meditation or reflection.  When Lent passes, they may re-order their lives for the long haul.  Or, they may resume their former ways with a new appreciation of the part that the thing they have done without plays in their lives.

So, if we have set something aside (or start today, as there is no need to be legalistic – it’s not too late), we might want to make sure that it’s good enough.

Fred B. Craddock

Fred Craddock 1928 - 2015

It was on this date in 2015 that the world lost one of its great gospel preachers and teachers of gospel preachers.  Fred B(renning) Craddock was born April 30, 1928 in Humboldt, Tennessee.  He was a minister in the Disciples of Christ Church and a professor at the college and seminary level.  He received the Bachelor of Arts degree from Johnson Bible College, Knoxville, Tennessee, in 1950.  He graduated from Phillips Theological Seminary in Tulsa, Oklahoma, in 1953 and earned a doctorate from Vanderbilt University in 1964.  At that time, he returned to Phillips to teach.  He moved on to Candler in 1974 and taught there until his retirement in 1994.  Following his retirement from his position as Bandy Distinguished Professor of Preaching and New Testament in the Candler School of Theology at Emory University he moved to Georgia and became founding pastor of Cherry Log Disciples of Christ Church.  He also founded and directed the Craddock Center, a non-profit service organization located in Cherry Log, Georgia.

Craddock also wrote many influential books, including The Pre-Existence of Christ, As One Without Authority, Overhearing the Gospel, The Gospels, commentaries on John (1982) and Philippians (1984), Preaching, a commentary on Luke (1990) and a collection of sermon-related anecdotes titled Craddock Stories.   He regularly contributed to journals and larger volumes concerned with Bible study and preaching.

He was in demand as a lecturer and delivered his addresses in some prestigious lectureships.  He delivered the Lyman Beecher Lectures at Yale, the Scott Lectures at Claremont School of Theology, the Adams Lectures at Southeastern Baptist Seminary, the Schaff Lectures at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, the Cole Lectures at Vanderbilt, the Westervelt Lectures at Austin Presbyterian Seminary, the Mullins Lectures at Southern Seminary, the Earl Lectures at Pacific School of Religion, and the Mullins Lectures at Southern Baptist Seminary.

His great contribution, however, was as a teacher.  His classes filled up early at registration time.  Some – but sadly, only some – of his teaching is available on CD. 

He would address conventions and continuing education events for preachers, and that is how I first became familiar with him.  In the eighties and nineties, I would drive half a day in any direction to hear him speak or preach.  I never came away empty.  If I know anything about the craft of preaching, it is due to the influence of Fred Craddock.

So, I lament his passing.  We could certainly use a voice like his today.

Is it too much to ask?

Yesterday I observed that local churches sometimes receive members who come from outside their tradition because an individual has become disenchanted with their former congregation.  This can happen for some good reasons.  But frequently it is a form of pouting.  “I don’t have to put up with this, I’ll just leave” is not the greatest rationale for leaving one fellowship and uniting with another.

There is a kindred malady, and it is wreaking havoc in The United Methodist Church.  I am talking about the practice of wholesale receiving already-credentialed clergy from other denominations.  I want to go on record as affirming many of my sisters and brothers who, as they matured in their spirits, theology and ecclesiology turned to The United Methodist Church for the carrying out of their ministerial call.  I know a great number of clergy whose journey has carried them not away from something, but to something they valued in the UMC.

But there is another bunch.  And they are driving me crazy.  They come from denominations that will not countenance divorce among clergy for whatever reason.  The clergyperson doesn’t have to be flaming practitioner of adultery for their denomination to excuse them. They can be pillars of the community, but if their spouse leaves them for any reason at all, their denomination disqualifies them from the practice of ministry.  The UMC has no such prohibition.  Consequently, people who never change their denominational spots seek credentialing as Methodists because divorced clergy have a place in our structure. Some of these folks come in, receive church appointments, and then rail at our practices.  But we’ll give them a paycheck, and so here we are.  And they’re killing us.

These preachers have some kinfolk in a class of people who may bounce around church-to-church in their congregational denominations for years.  In such settings a local church can arbitrarily and immediately dismiss a pastor just because they do not like the cut of the preacher’s jib.  These clergy can wake up one morning not knowing if they are going to have a position by nightfall.  In The United Methodist Church, we have a practice of assuring pastors a “guaranteed appointment.”  That means that a minister in good standing will always have a place of assignment.  If a congregation becomes disenchanted with its clergy, s/he may be moved down the road, and the location might not be the most desirable in the mind of the pastor, but there is a place to go, a check to be collected and a roof over their head.  As you can imagine, that has an enormous appeal to some folks.  And, as was the case with their cousins above, once in the system they pretty much have the freedom to be as un-Methodist as they like.  And they’re killing us.

A separate but equally calamitous set of circumstances concerns the retirement arrangements for Methodist clergy.  Ministers are, for Social Security purposes, self-employed.  So, Methodist pastors pay around 13.5% of their earnings off the top to Social Security.  But they also make private contributions to a denominational retirement fund.  The local congregation where the individual ministers makes an in-kind contribution to the pension fund.  Over the course of a lifetime of pastoring the amount is not exorbitant, but it is superior to the plans in which many other denominations participate.  Especially as a clergyperson gets older, this looks pretty good.  As is the case with the aforementioned imports, once in, clergy who formerly ministered in another fellowship can practice a lot of theological – and therefore, hermeneutical – latitude.  And they’re killing us.

I may sound bitter.  That is not my aim.  But our great church is in crisis, not only in the area that the General Conference of 2019 addressed, but in almost every sphere of church theology and practice.  I don’t know how to fix it.  But I don’t think that it is too much to ask Methodist clergy to act like Methodists.

Otherwise, you have the hodge-podge that faces us now. 

And they’re killing us.

Further thoughts on Lent

The liturgical season of Lent has a long history.  As you can imagine, some aspects of the seasonal observance change over time.  The church adds some things.  Other features fall away.  It can be a fluid time. 

One of the practices of days gone by was that the church took this time to instruct and examine people who had left the church or who had been dismissed from its fellowship.  It was a bit easier to do when the church was more monolithic.  Now, if someone becomes disaffected but does not desire to live outside the church altogether, they can join another congregation or denomination.  They can remain anonymous regarding their past church affiliation.  Beyond affirming that they have received baptism (and perhaps answering some questions regarding the mode of baptism) most churches receive membership transfers no questions asked.  If the receiving congregation bothers to contact the individual’s former church at all it is a formality.  It has to do with membership totals rather than spiritual nurture.  So, the idea of expulsion in the name of church discipline is effectively non-existent.  Likewise, a member who chooses to leave for even the most trivial of reasons does not have to explain or justify their uniting with another church.

In a different time, a dismissed church member petitioned the congregation for re-admission.  Church and individual examined the separation and a time of inquiry and instruction followed.  Then, on Easter Day, the approved member re-entered the community of faith.  It was a time of true reconciliation between a congregation and a returning person.

Now, I am not advocating kicking people out of the church’s fellowship.  Likewise, pressuring folks with too many questions provides a sure-fire guarantee to run them off.  But I see an ideal world where -- if someone presents themselves for church membership after being a part of another fellowship – the receiving church might ask, “Why?”

People relocate.  They need a church home.  They fall away and look for a fresh start.  I’m good with that.  But, “I didn’t agree with everything my former church did or believed or said it stood for” might require some more examination.  The “it’s easier to leave than work out our differences” practice brings a lot of malcontents into local churches for a lot of the wrong reasons.  Again, I look at an ideal where churches look to make disciples and not claim scalps.

I also look to an ideal where the search for genuine reconciliation is real. 

I can dream, can’t I?

Take it down.

I heard a great sermon many years ago that examined 1 Corinthians 1 & 2.  Sadly, both the preacher and much of the content are lost to time and faulty memory.  What I DO remember is that the preacher labeled the claim of various Corinthian factions that stated, “I belong to Paul,” or “I belong to Cephas,” or “I belong to Apollos” to base sloganism.  The preacher explored the notion that it becomes easy to hide behind a motto or catch phrase and elude completely the truth behind what the phrase says.

The United Methodist Church claims a slogan of “Open Minds, Open Hearts, Open Doors.”  It has, since its adoption by the UMC in 2001, been a bit hopeful.  Perhaps hope is what the church needs.  But it has also been misleading and even untrue.  I know of one local congregation that loudly proclaimed 2/3 of the promise, saying in their advertisements that they were a church of “Open Minds, Open Hearts.”  The fact that this church did not include “Open Doors” as part of its proclamation spoke volumes.  Whether intentionally or not, its refusal to proclaim “Open Doors” indicated its true mind-set.  The slogan is gone, but the church has a rather unpleasant reputation locally of lacking “open doors.”

Recent events in The United Methodist Church have changed that motto from a misleading statement into an outright lie.  The church’s mind is collectively not open.  The denomination’s heart is anything but open.  Its community doors are not open (although thankfully a great number of local congregations have loudly proclaimed that their fellowship is welcoming to all of God’s children).

The conservative wing of the UMC, which has prevailed for the time being, cannot put any kind of smiley face on their position.  The conservatives – in this country and abroad – have drawn a line in the sand that they prohibit some people from crossing.  Their punitive and even vindictive stance against those who disagree with them causes them to forfeit any claim to openness at all. 

I recognize that a lot of church promotion claims are optimistic and even idealistic.  That probably should be the case.  But not here.  Not now.  At least, church, be honest.

Take it down.

The Different Temptation of Christ

In preaching a sermon on the Temptation narrative, Fred Craddock makes an interesting observation.  He points out that the common perception of the devil is that of a being with horns and a red suit, pointy tail and sharp goatee.  If you look up the temptation of Jesus on Google, many of the images have the bat-winged, almost cartoonish figure that goes with the stereotype.  Even allowing for the symbolic representation of some of these pictures, the overall effect is a bit much.  Craddock says that, given this appearance, most of us would be on our guard and would be prepared to resist the Tempter.

My image comes from the Bible story books that used to be in the doctor’s office when I was a child.  The devil was a bit sinister in appearance, to be sure.  But he wasn’t a caricature.  He was gesturing in a welcoming fashion while Jesus was turning away and holding up his hand in a resisting posture.  That might prove a bit more daunting.  Or at least convincing.

Craddock, though, says that when he pictures Jesus in this setting, he pictures him alone.  He is after all in the desert. He has been there some time.  He has not eaten for over a month.  What more powerful ordeal might there be than to face the wilderness alone? 

That gives me something to conjure with.  It is the kind of perception that used to make radio so powerful.  If you listen to “War of the Worlds” or “Dracula” from the Mercury Radio Theater, these works can be much scarier than storytellers depict on any movie screen.  The imagination is the greatest narrator in the world.  In that light, a temptation without physical presence, a temptation guided by the psyche, might be the most persuasive of all.

Lead us not into temptation…

An alternative view

The New Revised Common Lectionary (NRCL) recommends as the gospel reading for today – the first Sunday in Lent – The Temptation of Jesus story from Luke 4:1-13.  The initial reasoning is obvious I think: the passage talks of the forty days of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness.  This segues into the 40-day observance of Lent into which the church has just entered.  At that level I suppose that the reading is appropriate.

But, in another consideration, I don’t like this choice at all.  The reason being that, if we equate our experience with that of Jesus¸ then the purpose or emphasis of our Lenten observance must also be with temptation.  You can use the word “testing” or “trial,” but the connotation is the same.  The time of Lent becomes something grim in our eyes.

Sure, Jesus’ fast translates into our practice of “giving up something for Lent.”  But what about the rest?  There is no real corollary in human experience to the call to transform stones into bread.  We are not truly given an opportunity to rule all the kingdoms of the earth.  And while I don’t want to deny the possibility of divine intervention, I can’t remember any contemporary example of someone who jumped from a high place only to be borne up by angels.  The transference just doesn’t hold up.

I do not deny the value – or inspiration – of this or any other passage of scripture.  And, I don’t suppose that there is any biblical passage that is truly inappropriate for any given Sunday or time of worship.  I do wonder, though, about designating this passage or its synoptic counterparts as the Lenten reference.  The gospel readings for the rest of the season of Lent have nothing to do with forty or fasting.  They call to mind other legitimate seasonal themes.

Make no mistake, the Temptation narrative is the gospel text at my church today.  I call to question, though, the implicit position that this is the great table-setter for the season, and that no other passage can carry the freight.  It is not a season about temptation.  It is not a season about the miraculous.  It is a time when real human beings grapple with their own fallenness and the grace of God that delivers them from that Fall. 

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

The peace of the Lord be with you.

A different way of getting ready for Easter

The emphases of a season like Lent naturally change over time.   Practices come and go.  Traditions evolve due to necessity or convenience.  Lent as we know it is in some ways very different from the way in which the church ordered its practice in times past.

One of elements for this season in the early church was that it took the days of Lent to give “final instructions” to those who were in the process of becoming full members of the church.  The church called these learners catechumens.  These inquirers underwent a three-year instructional period in preparation for becoming a part of the fellowship.  In Lent those who were nearing the end of their training would enter a time of intense concluding instruction.  Then during the triduum – the last hours of Lent, beginning the evening of Maundy Thursday and lasting until sunrise on Easter Sunday – the church would teach these people elements like The Lord’s Prayer and an affirmation of faith like The Apostles’ Creed.  They kept vigil all during this time.   (If the catechumen fell asleep at any point during these hours, they were welcome to begin another three-year instruction and undergo all the process again.)

On Easter morning the church baptized these folks and welcomed them to their first Holy Communion.  At this point the church counted them as full members of the fellowship. 

For individuals who were not full members of the church, they participated in the first part of a worship service.  They joined in some of the prayers and sang hymns.  But the church dismissed them (to a time of sharing preparatory information) before the church joined in scripture and Eucharist.  Imagine going through a three-year process to join the church when seekers had never been a part of the principal worship activity of the group.  And yet, the church flourished.

It is cause for some lamentation that in our day many churches welcome new members who present themselves on the spot.  There is no preparation, no instruction at all.  I have seen people who have hardly ever been inside a church building before in their lives come to the chancel at the conclusion of a worship service.  They declare that they “have been saved.”  At that point the enthusiastic clergy baptizes and confirms them on the spot.  I am sad to say that the vast majority of these instantly-received people fall away from the church within a year.

The wisdom of the ages had a procedure and it served the church well.  Three years may be a bit much in the modern day.  Offering a sixty-hour vigil to potential twenty-first century seekers might not be a strong selling point.  But a real sense of intentionality might help cement the bond between seeker and church.  It might also help eliminate the “anything goes” attitude that emerges in church folk from time to time.  Adding more time is not the answer.  Including more substance might make the difference.

The Forty Days of Lent

I observed earlier that the season of Lent was forty days in duration.  This stretch of time excludes Sundays.  I’ll say more about that later.  But I want to say a thing or two about the time that the church assigns to Lent.

In its very early days the church devoted only Holy Week to the anticipation of Easter.  Over time the period came to be two weeks, then a month, and finally the church settled on the current duration.

There are a lot of connections to the number forty in the Bible.  God cleansed the earth with a flood that lasted forty days.  Israel wandered in the wilderness forty years in the period of the Exodus.  Moses was on Sinai forty days receiving The Law from God.  David reigned as King for forty years, as did Solomon.  Elijah fasted in the wilderness over a span of forty days.   Jesus’ fast and temptation took place over forty days.  The resurrected Christ appeared to his disciples in a forty-day span prior to The Ascension.  Finally, the Crucified Christ was in his tomb for forty hours.  It should not surprise us, then, that forty days became the duration of Lent.

When the number forty appears in scripture, there is also a sense of fulfillment.  Forty hours or forty days or forty years is “enough” time for the activity at hand.  Forty is sufficient.  It has a connotation of having contained all the time that was necessary to accomplish a given end.

Finally, forty days is roughly one-tenth of a year.  It is a tithe and therefore an appropriate time dedicated as a gift to God.

Yesterday the church began this cycle again.  I pray that we all find our sense of completeness over these forty days.