Thank God for dogs!

While most of my posts are seminary-related, this one's a bit of a stretch. I guess it is in the roundabout sense that Bob and I have always embraced stewardship of creation as a shared value.



What could celebrate the gift of creation and stewardship more than a totally gratuitous video I just created with some software I found on my computer? (And irritatingly, it won't post on Facebook; I think FB hates the Allman Brothers.) Being caregivers for abandoned doggies in need of medical attention seems like a pretty good way to make the most of creation.



Call this my holiday sermon and moment of thanksgiving...

I think it's no coincidence that God and Dog share the same letters. Dogs make terrific preachers and praise-singers.

Thing-a-ma-jew? Really???

It's been yet another event-filled week, once again culminated by bizarre, homicidal vehicles on interstate highways. After our most recent brush with death, complete with failed brakes, flaming engines and merging semi-trucks in Scranton, Pennsylvania, Bob and I decided "what the hell?" we'd go to church on Sunday morning. While we weren't expecting any conversion experiences, a la The Blues Brothers, we were mildly surprised at how the service went...and it wasn't like this.




You could say we did see the light, or that it was an enlightening experience, but only in that it reinforced why it is that I'm still less than enamored with Christianity, even though I'm about 1/6 of the way through seminary with the ultimate goal of being ordained. I know I write entirely too many LONG posts, so I'll give you the truncated version and let you fill in the blanks.

A minister's "Don't list" of how to conduct Sunday service

• Don't meander in during the gathering time whistling an entirely different tune than the organist is playing...better still, don't whistle at all.
• Don't spend the first 10 minutes of what's supposed to be worship telling personal stories that are only loosely related, in that they all have to do with you.
• Don't humiliate your children in front of the congregation by airing your dirty laundry.
• Don't think that bullying the local police, breaking down a door, threatening a group of teenagers in the name of "rescuing" a child who is hanging out drinking a couple of beers is acceptable.
• Don't confuse patriotism with Christianity. God's got the whole world to pay attention to. What makes you think that God should play favorites, or if God does, that our country would be it?
• Don't act proud when you tell the congregation you "didn't come from monkeys" -- it's offensive to the monkeys that you try to associate yourself with them at all.
• Don't forget that the God that we worship is the one who originated from the Jews. By demeaning them, you spit in the face of the one you believe is your creator.
• Don't have at least 7 times more mentions of yourself than you do of God, or even of "The Kid" -- it's just plain tacky.
• Don't, for the love of God, DON'T ever, EVER use the phrase Thing-A-Ma-Jew. Ever.

These really shouldn't be too difficult to follow, especially the last one. Really.

Mama knows best: A sermon on Numbers 11 and Johnny Cash

Mama knows best
The book of Numbers did strange things during my sleep state. I’m not generally one to have dreams, much less vivid ones, but I’ve had very striking dreams related to Numbers 11. One dream is somewhat easier, in that at least it seems connected – I dreamt of the vast numbers of quail that seemingly dropped from the sky and made up an ocean of food within the desert. I was struck with the juxtaposition of the image of vast abundance in a land of scarcity.

Then there’s a less-easy-to-connect dream. This one is a little more puzzling. It follows the story line of the Johnny Cash tune “Five Feet High and Rising.” I cannot make this up. Sometimes dreams are just weird. In short, the song is loosely based on Cash’s childhood experience with a flood great enough that his family had to flee to safety from their rural Arkansas home. So with these images in my head, I’ll try to walk you through what’s happening in Numbers 11, but more importantly, given the bad rap the Older Testament tends to get in modern day progressive Christian congregations, we’ll work toward making this old, but important text relevant here and now.

First, what’s up with Johnny Cash and how does it compare to Numbers 11?

• "Five Feet High" is set in a flood. Well, okay, as I said before and was highlighted in my other dream, I guess you could say there was a flood in Numbers, too...a flood of quail – at the very least, there was an abundance in a land of scarcity.
• Johnny's song has chickens sleeping in willow trees, hives under water, cows with water up to their knees, railroad tracks washed out. In short, things aren’t as they should be. Not unlike today’s reading. Rather than the assembly preparing to move ahead, the people of Israel find themselves stuck in the muck of discontent.
• Cash's song is about a family journey. The family starts out to evacuate by train, the tracks are washed out, and they seek the refuge of higher ground. Both the biblical text and the song are about family dynamics, one figuratively, the other in a more literal sense. That’s where I was getting stuck. "How high are the quail mama?" just doesn't have the same ring. Or does it? We’ll get back to that in a little bit. First, let’s take a closer look at the reading.

Contrary to what is sometimes noted about this text, the people of Israel haven’t been wandering the wilderness for years, eating three squares of manna. It’s been a matter of months at best, and this immediately after we read a long (and admittedly somewhat boring) catalog of sacrifices. Sacrifices aren’t about killing animals; they’re an opportunity for the assembly to commune with each other. Through these sacrifices, the people would have had the opportunity to partake in a little meat. Given the typical fare of the times, they had already had what would have been a substantial dose of protein. Yet, the people wanted more. More.

What more could the people want? They have a God who has taken care to provide not just a food that drops from the heavens on a daily basis, but also a sufficient water source to give the people not just enough to drink, but also to use to boil the manna to make it a more palatable, cake-like substance. Given the circumstances of being out in the wilderness, these people have it made: food, water, and most importantly, they have God on their advance team.

Yet, they grumble. The manna’s boring. There’s no excitement with manna. It’s just…there. Every day it’s there for the people. Every day. It’s there for the people. Its presence is as predictable as God’s. And some of the people reject the manna. It’s not hard to make the leap between the rejection of the God-given source for continued life in the wilderness and the rejection of God. A yearning for something more, for something exciting, has clouded the people’s vision to the point where they have forgotten about who led them to freedom. Their God is angered. Moses is angered. The people are angered. Small wonder nothing good comes from this situation, or does it?

In the middle of this story of discontent: the people’s with the food, God’s with the people, Moses’ with, arguably, both parties – the people for their complaints, and God for placing Moses in this situation to begin with, we hear of a gathering of people to help Moses out. We hear of an administrative task force that, at least for a moment, receives a flash of inspiration. Some of the spirit of Moses is lifted from him and it settles on the assembly he’s gathered. While the spirit is fleeting (not unlike us today – we don’t have a full-voltage blast of the spirit every moment of our lives), their ability to do the work of the people continues.

Also, not unlike today, if the spirit of God wishes to reach you, there’s no hiding place. The two who remained in camp during this initial administrative assembly, are visited from the spirit of God and prophesy to the people there. This is not unlike the many ministries your own congregation takes part in. They aren’t tied in to a government agency, but they’re ad hoc and manage to further your community’s cause of justice and caring for all. The interesting thing about these two is that unlike the assembly with Moses, it’s not indicated that these two, Eldad and Medad, stop prophesying. In fact, you could say that the charge that was sparked within them continues through to people within our own pews. Maybe, most likely, it’s you. Don’t believe me? You’re here, aren’t you?

This would be a nice place to end, this team of Moses’ helpers, but we have an unresolved and somewhat troubling piece: we still have the hungry (or at least desiring) people and God’s promise to give them what they ask for. At first it appears the people’s cries have been answered. A wind carries a massive flock of quail (likely on a migratory path, perhaps on what we’d now know of as the jet stream) over the camp. Suddenly the quail fall from the sky. The word for wind and spirit are the same in this passage. It’s as if the spirit-wind has momentarily exited the vicinity, causing the travel-weary birds who were using its force to stay airborne to fall from the sky … at the same time, some within the camp lose their spiritual grounding.

The people don’t seem to see the importance that this food source is delivered outside of their community. The people have abandoned God’s designated community prior to this passage by their rejection of God’s food. Now they are abandoning God in a more literal sense. They are leaving the community to gather the objects of their desire. In one way or another, at some time, each of us has perused our own quail and abandoned our communities. Fortunately, we are afforded the opportunity to change. We can return from our travels outside of camp in pursuit of the almighty buck (I mean quail) and rejoin the community. Again, isn’t that why we’re here today?

While this is where the biblical text for today ends, you’re probably wondering what happened to the Cash family. Remember, when we left them, they were in a state of disorder? The waters were rising; the chickens were in the trees. The family tries to leave by train and the rails are washed out. They’re in dire straits. Left with no alternative, the Cash family is left to wander the wilderness (or at least move to higher ground farther from home) in their flee to safety.
For the Cash family, the path isn't clear where they are to go, but they know they cannot remain where they are. The people of Israel keep getting pulled in new directions at Yahweh's instruction. The only clear message both “tribes” seem to have is that they cannot remain where they are, at least not for long. There is no sense of permanence for the people of Israel, nor for our modern day exiles.

There’s another similarity between the two stories that wasn’t obvious at first: within each story is a strong leader and a strong reliance on that leader’s relationship with God. In Numbers, even after the installation of 70 assistants, it’s clear Moses is still the CEO. For the Cash family, it’s mama. Both leaders use their faith and close relationship with God to guide their moves and lead their families to safety.

Both the song and this chapter of Numbers ends in a spot that leaves the listener thinking nothing good could possibly come out of this situation. And if we look at this moment in time, there’s no getting around the dismal finishes. There’s no upbeat sounding of the trumpets, no snappy guitar solo. They just end with a crowd of misguided people dying in the wilderness in Numbers and a family who is left homeless and wandering the country thanks to an “act of God.”

But, the story does not end with this chapter. Moses eventually does lead the people to a new land (although he doesn’t enter it himself). Mama, who observed in the middle of the chaos at the Cash farm "looks like we'll be blessed with a little more rain," does get her family to safety; but there’s more to mama’s faith. Here’s the back story to “Five Feet High and Rising.” Mama was right. What seemed disastrous at the time for the Cash family had an upside. As the musician later recalled, “We couldn’t see much good in the flood waters when they were causing us to have to leave home, but when the water went down, we found that it had washed a load of rich black bottom dirt across our land. The following year we had the best cotton crop we’d ever had.”[1]

In our faith community, we’re all exiles – each of us has our own personal wilderness story. Like the community of Israel, we can journey together, in relationship with God. Like the Cash family, we can gain from the richness that washes in from the tumult of our personal brushes with God. Together, we can reap a stronger harvest. We just need to be prepared that the journey isn’t quite going to be what any of us anticipate, and we may arrive at an unexpected place, God willing. While the end result of both stories is important, it’s not hard to see that the journey itself in the company of God is what binds them together. And now it’s our turn. Our journey together continues to enrich us and bind us. It continues to reinforce our relationship with God. It continues to remind us of the importance of our greater family.

[1] http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/j/johnny_cash/five_feet_high_and_rising.html

It would be long, but...

If anyone's interested in reading the sermon I came up with based on Numbers 11 and the Johnny Cash tune, let me know. (A couple of folks have commented on it in other avenues this week-thanks for the words of encouragement. I decided to run with it and see what happened.) I'm not sure if there's a word count on this thing, and there doesn't appear to be a place to attach a Word doc, but I'll figure it out. If you don't know what I'm talking about, read my earlier post.

How high is the water, mama?

I'm in a three-week accelerated class this month (just finished week one) and need to write a paper this weekend on Chapter 11 of the Book of Numbers. No biggie; the weather sucks anyway. BUT, that was before I had what I'll call my "prophetic dream." I'm not much of a dreamer, but I did have one last night and it clearly told me I needed to work a Johnny Cash tune into my paper. And not just any Cash tune...Five Feet High and Rising. WTF???

Here's the deal about chapter 11: Moses and company are in the desert in the earlier part of their 40-year journey. Key thing to remember here -- the desert. The people (some translations say "the rabble") are complaining/lusting/desiring food. They've had manna which presumably is so nutrition-packed that it's sufficient for survival for years on end. While it sounds as if it doesn't taste all bad, as my instructor noted, "how many different ways can you make a casserole with just one ingredient." Anyway, Yahweh (Israel's God) hears the complaining, gets pissed, and tosses out a little fire, probably a bolt of lightening, and takes out a few Israelites.

The griping continues, Moses appeals to the LORD for help. He's got two complaints: the unsatisfied masses and also that he's the mayor of this big, moving city and is in charge of setting up the departments of sanitation, education, transportation, and religious affairs with no help. (Okay, so he's got his brother and sister, but sometimes with friends like that, who needs enemies?) Even our small township is run by a group of supervisors and other administrators. Yahweh takes care of the administrative issue first and tells Moses to find 70 guys (women don't play much of a role in the Book of Numbers except to have curses tossed on them and bear the burden of childbirth and the occasional bout of leprosy) and Yahweh will transfer some of the burden from Moses to them. (Curious note: the "burden" is translated as "spirit") Two guys stay in camp, but the spirit finds them, anyway, and they commence to speaking in tongues and such. So complaint 1 is covered. Now about the food...

To the complaint about the food, Yahweh says sure, I'll help you. I'll feed them quail. Yeah, they'll get quail all right. Lots of it. Yahweh ain't kidding. They get several bushels of quail apiece because of a shifting wind (the Hebrew for "wind" is the same word as "spirit" noted above). The migrating quail must have been knocked off course or something. That part's not explained. So, the rabble put the first bits of meat to their mouths and, ZAP. Yup. Yahweh changes course and the people are afflicted by a plague. A bunch of people die and the people pick up camp and move on. End of story.

Yeah, that has a lot to do with Johnny Cash. Let's see...Numbers is set in the desert. "Five feet high" is set in a flood. Well, okay, I guess you could say there was a flood in Numbers, too. A flood of quail. With all the sacrificing that went on in that book, you could say there was a flood of blood, too.

Johnny's song has chickens sleeping in willow trees, hives under water, cows with water up to their knees, railroad tracks washed out...and mama observes "looks like we'll be blessed with a little more rain." But, like the people of Israel, the family is left to wander the wilderness and flee to safety. The path isn't clear. Israel keeps getting heading in new directions at Yahweh's instruction or because of other nations not being too keen on this mass of people crossing their boundary. Cash's family starts out to evacuate by train, the tracks are washed out, and they seek the refuge of higher ground. Both songs are about family dynamics, one figuratively, the other in a more literal sense.

Okay, there are some similarities. But still...what in Yahweh's name am I supposed to do with this in my paper? "How high are the quail mama?" just doesn't have the same ring.

Chance of clouds: 100%

Whoo, it's been a busy month. This 'occasional' blog had been even more infrequent, BUT finals are over and I have a couple of weeks before the fun begins with a three-week intensive class (while working 3/4 time at the office).



So, to prepare for the grudge-match of a summer session, I'm reading ahead for my class "Preaching and Teaching the Book of Numbers." To be sure, on the surface it's not a page-turner. But it seems about the time I've almost completely zoned out, something gets my attention. That's what happened with Numbers 9:15-23.



For those of you not keeping track at home, this is the tidbit in which Moses and company have set up the tabernacle and this cloud thingy appears over the tent of the covenant. Whenever the cloud lifts, the assembly packs up and moves to its next destination. How do they know when they've arrived? The cloud appears again. It looks like a cloud by day and has a firey appearance by night.



So, the people of Israel had a personal realtionship with Yahweh that would have them move ahead and take a rest, then the cycle would continue again...and again...and again.

Whether it was two days, or a month, or a longer time,

that the cloud continued over the tabernacle, resting upon it,

the Israelites would remain in camp and would not set out;

but when it lifted they would set out. ~Num 9:22 (NRSV)

I've glossed over this passage before, but this time it got me thinking of the individual human analogy, more directly, my own sometimes shaky relationship with Yahweh. It occurred to me that even in my cloudy days/years, I've never doubted the presence of God. Irritated by God, sure, but never in doubt that there was a very annoying God out there/in me somewhere. Then there's some subtle breakthrough, a lifting of the clouds, as it were, and I pack up my baggage and bumble along again until I've reached a foggy place where I have to hang out for days, months or even years before there's a breakthrough and I can journey further into the wilderness.

Carl Jung would be most pleased that four decades into life, I've been able to see the connection.

Jesus is Just Alright

It's Easter morning. Props to my buddy Jesus. Party on. I went old school today and decided to go to the little country church down the road where I was a member until my theological meltdown a few years back. I still like to sneak in from time to time to a place where I can do the liturgy rote and let my mind focus on the real part of worship without worrying about keeping up with the words on the page. I also miss the people. God love 'em and their "we've always done it this way" ways. Not all of them, to be sure, but enough that more times than not I wanted to bonk my head repeatedly on the external brick wall. A wailing wall of a totally different variety.

Anyway, it was a real nice service. Nice. It's always hard to come up with the appropriate adjectives for worship services, especially the biggies like Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Sunday. It's even harder when you hear the poor preachers trying to make relevant the events of Easter Sunday to a contemporary audience. You've got a guy who caused a lot of trouble to the establishment and was beginning to be a nuisance to the Roman Empire (threat might be pushing it). Dude was executed on a Friday and something happened on Sunday morning. Something. This is where I have to lean on the gospel attributed to Mark. That's the one where the chicks to to the tomb, the rock is rolled away and a dude in white says he's gone. The women make a hasty exit. End of story.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. When it comes to the gospels, Mark is the one that makes the most sense to me. Less editorializing, more letting the reader figure it out. Way less exposition. Considering the end times weren't as immanent as the first and second century followers of Christ would have liked, I prefer the ambiguity of Mark to have us work out what Jesus absence that Sunday morning means to us today.

Honestly, I don't care whether Jesus physically came back to life and physically hung out making cameo appearances to upwards of 500 people for 40 days before being whisked up into the sky to return another day. What does that story have to do with any of us today? What's remarkable to me is the story that from its early beginnings was only a generation away from extinction, yet it carried enough weight to make it to the next generation and the next. And the next. The core teachings, as Bill and Ted would say, being "excellent to each other" is pretty groovy on its own.

Party on, dudes!