A Sermon for Lent 1

And it snowed and rained and froze….and it snowed and rained and froze…and it snowed – and poured rain; for forty days and forty nights, and it seemed like forever.

And it was a cough, and a hack, and a wheeze; a cough, a hack, a wheeze…that lasted for forty days and forty nights and seems like it will last forever;

 and it was sickness, and diagnosis, and surgery… forty days and forty nights;

it was a kid leaving home, and a friendship ending, and a family member dying;

and it is earthquakes, and war, and rumours of war….

It is the human condition.

Human beings can relate to the Noah story because of incidents and accidents within our own lives that have us feel like we’ve been sequestered on a boat, an ark, floating on uncharted wild waters, going who knows where.

We too, relate to Jesus in the wilderness for forty days with wild beasts and angels; tempted by Satan.  The Gospel of Mark leaves the temptations and the wild beasts to our own imaginations; although temptations are real enough that we likely have no need to scour our imaginations to name many.

How much time do you spend in the ark or in the wilderness?

The ark and the wilderness are the places I most often meet people. The ark and the wilderness are the vessels of sickness, dying, chaos, guilt, depression, addiction, shame, negativity, and hopelessness.  When in the vessel more often than not the rainbows are not seen and the angels seem absent.

It is not until after the rain: the sickness, the chaos, the dying, the guilt, - the situations that befall– that we see the rainbows or the angels.  It is rarely, if ever, before.

In the Gospel, John the Baptist is arrested by the Herodian authorities and thrown into prison – no place for rainbows or angels – and in the same sentence Jesus proclaims the good news of God.  “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”  In the same breath is uttered the human condition and the nearness of the kingdom of God.  The ark and rainbow; the wilderness and the angels – stand side by side, hand in hand; as if one needs the other to exist.

How many of you have been to Niagra Falls?  If you’ve been, you have experienced getting wet from the constant spray coming up from the gorge – where thousands of tonnes of water per second, fall 52 metres, and hit the Niagra River below.  On days when the sun is out, even just slightly out, rainbows are a constant presence … that is if you simply turn your head just so and you remember to take off your sunglasses.  It’s as if the whole area where one humungous constant rainbow; and all it takes to see one, is to look.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s lines from her poem Aurora Leigh expresses the idea of the persistent presence of rainbows, - good news- the kingdom of God. She wrote:

Earth's crammed with heaven,

And every common bush afire with God;

But only he who sees, takes off his shoes,

The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries,

And daub their natural faces unaware.

Do you see common bushes on fire – the presence of God, the good news, the holy, the kingdom of God close at hand?  Or rather do you only experience a common bush from which to take blackberries?  Do you live every moment ready to be continually, constantly surprised by rainbow after rainbow, angel after angel, good news after good news; joy upon joy regardless of human condition and circumstances that be.

When you think about the weather of February and consider the current condition of our streets and sidewalks –do you see the rainbows?  Even I have had enough… yes, I just said it, but for the record it is the ice not that snow that has bested me.  I ask myself, if there is “good news” to be found in the doldrums of winter?

As we enter the journey of forty days and forty nights that lead to Holy Week and the celebration of Easter; Lent provides the lens to see “good news.”  We are provided a season in the church year to winter; traditionally a time to reflect on the nature of one’s sin, a time to refocus and set priorities to improve one’s relationship with God and others, a time to take stock of one’s being and put it back into balance. 

The Germanic root of the word "lent" means –to lengthen- as we lengthen our time in prayer and fasting; as we lengthen our time of refocusing, taking stock, and setting priorities – so too the days lengthen as Easter draws nearer.  The world around us mimics the growing good news we rediscover through taking time to winter.

Time to winter.

We have been forced to over the past few weeks, have we not? I wonder, did you see the snow days as gifts or did you fret about what you were not accomplishing?  Did you find other stay-at-home projects to tackle to keep busy?  Did you curl up in a favourite spot with a warm drink, a good book, a blanket and enjoy the day?  Did you consider the weather to be an imposed rest day at God’s hand?

Over the years, I cannot recall the number of conversations I have had during pastoral visits where people have reflected on “the good old days” and “what a good old winter” was like.  Back in the day, goes the reminiscent story, involving lots of snow, high snowbanks, days of school missed, adventures of drifts over doors and snow to the eaves; of potbellied stoves in the church and either cutter rides or the whole family traipsing to the church via foot no matter how nasty...and the tale was told as if every minute was enjoyed!

Time to winter is forcing ourselves to slow down; in essence taking a snow day. The human condition of our time and culture, is to stir up the waves and increase the storm so that the ark is batted to and fro continually, and likewise to scurry through the wilderness creating dust storms ---- obscuring rainbows and angels in busyness, self-importance or self-improvement, and the desperation to earn and have more. Unhappy, discontented, and disconnected we miss relationship with ourselves, others, and God. We end up stuck on the sea and banished in the wilderness. A human being cannot stay stuck at sea (resources run out, the ark will eventually get holes, it will sink); and one cannot remain banished in the wilderness (susceptible to the elements and poisoness beasts, to wither and decay).  We have the option to wait out the sea and the wilderness – to crash and burn out.  We also have the option to embrace winter – TO come to a FULL STOP.

 In that stuck-ness and banishment… when everything stops… either because we stop to refocus, or forced upon us by us hitting bottom … there – when nothing else is – God waits for us to look; the good news has been present all along.

French Nobel Prize winning author Albert Camus wrote: In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.  I have heard it many times, “I never thought I would have the strength to get through that.” “I had peace despite the circumstance.” “I felt that I was not alone.” Those statements are the invincible summer – the good news – that has been and is being planted deep within.

Through Lent this community takes the time to reflect on our human condition, and encourages the moving of the head, the taking off of sunglasses, so that the rainbows can be experienced amidst the storms of life.  This journey asks that we enter the wilderness to take an honest look at what is out of balance in our lives, what are the temptations to be set aside, and what wild beasts do we need to face… so that when Easter morn rises our hearts are refocused to see and experience Jesus in glory - full of promise, full of life – rainbows and angels ever present.

My Lenten prayer for each of you is a variation of a traditional Irish blessing:
God grant you to experience/ in every storm, a rainbow,/ in every tear, a smile,/in every care, a promise/
in every wilderness, an angel; / For every problem life sends, A faithful friend to share/ in every sigh, a sweet song,/ in the darkest night, a light.  Be not afraid of the journey, for you are not alone; reflect and become balanced, so you may share Christ’s love with all.  Amen.

Something for a Snowy Day

Today seven of us joined in Morning Suffrages, with a simply communion.  The reading read was in lectio divina from (see sermon below), followed by  a sharing of the Word as we heard it and how it read us.

Transfiguration B-2015

This morning I draw your attention to a small section of the Gospel.  The phrase caused a bit of a stir at Bible Study and an even bigger stir at the weekly clergy discussion group I attend. 

“Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”  He did not know what to say, for they were terrified.  He didn’t know what to say… who is, “he?” Peter or Jesus.

“Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”  He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. And who was terrified, just the disciples or Jesus too?

The pastor’s study group has a participant who speaks biblical Greek, in his sleep, each week it rolls off his tongue at least once.  And he ponder the Greek sentence construction for a few moments, and felt the language did lean toward Jesus being the “he.”  Jesus didn’t know what to say. Jesus was included in the “they were terrified.”

In a conversation this week, I was reminded of something I learned in counseling courses, parenting classes, and leadership seminars I have participated in.  Before one finds themselves in a crisis –a place of fear- it is best to have practiced and roll played what it is one should say. And to practice these phrases repetitively so they automatically get put into play as second nature when the crisis arises.

I am reading, “Older, Faster, Stronger,” a book about women long distant runners over the age of 50. It talks about why women seem to improve in long distance running abilities as they age. In one section, the book discusses imaging out a race by colour or animal; and includes emphasis on practicing good self-talk, focusing on running form, having a mantra to repeat, and happy thoughts that will provide motivation when one hits a wall so to speak. All of this one practices on every practice run, so that on race day any crisis that might arise, your body and mind go into autopilot and the race is completed well.

Situations and crisis arise all the time. We react.

The book and the conversation I had this week reminded me, and kindled a desire, to be prepared for times when I might be stressed, challenged, tempted to act in a not-so-Christian way, and to be ready for times of fear and terror.

It is a beautiful thought to see Jesus in a very human condition. Being stymied and terrified is part of human nature. How often have you not had the words to say?  … someone gives you a grand compliment, you get into a verbal fight, when someone dies and you meet the family in the visitation line, or a friend shares that they have cancer… what do you say?

This very human condition, set in the story on the mountain, speaks to me of the very nature of God; the combination stressed by Bonhoeffer of the humanity of God and the divinity of the human- God dared to enter a state of humiliation, where God humbled self to become a man, to undergo humiliation through acceptance of sinful flesh, of his own freewill –where there is restraint from exercising divine properties and powers through the human nature for the duration of the earthly life of Jesus Christ. Christ goes incognito as a beggar among beggars, sinner among sinners; at the same time is sinless among sinners.

Jesus is transfigured and shown to be human.  The response to being stymied and terrified echoes from a deeper place of knowing, the Word that was from the beginning, repeated at Jesus’ baptism and again now; the Word for to empower the “who” of Jesus, and the expectation placed on the disciples.  Everyone is given action to move forward from this moment of fear.  Jesus focus on being the Beloved, disciples listen.

Go practice because situations and crisis down the road approaching the end in Jerusalem will require instant automatic responses; practice so that you are ready. 

This morning I would like to introduce you to a way of preparing for those moments of being stymied and/or terrified;  A way to give you the Word needed in a time of crisis, chaos, or indecision; A Gospel response that will come automatically because it has been practiced. Perhaps during all the snow days we seem to be having, or simply as a discipline over Lent, you might try the following.

Henri Nouwen, in his book, “Spiritual Formation,” uses the practice of lectio divina after each chapter in the book to assist readers in building their spiritual storehouse and God-relationship.  Lectio Divina is an ancient spiritual practice that comes from the Benedictine tradition.  It is a practice that focuses on the sacred and devotional reading of scripture. Through this discipline one learns to really read scripture uninhibited and allows us to be read by the Word of God.

Nouwen says, “When we approach the Word of God as a word spoken to me, God’s presence and will can be made known.  The regular practice of lectio divina presents occasions when my story and God’s story meet.  To read the Bible in this way means therefore to read ‘on my knees’ ---- reverently, attentively, and with the deep faith that God has a word for me in my own situation.” (pg.xiii Spiritual Formation)

Today we are going to take a few moments to practice lectio divina. How it works:  I will slowly read a portion of the Gospel from this morning aloud, 3 x – as you listen take note of a word, phrase, image, or thought that comes to your attention – note it so it can be reflected on later.  How do you hear the Word? How is the Word reading you?

           

“Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”  He did not know what to say, for they were terrified.  Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud, there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.

Beloved One, inspire by your Holy Spirit our hearts and minds to dedicate time for disciplined practice. Fill us with the Word, so that in times of being stymied and terrified, we have the Word to comfort, hear, and speak.  Give us a new vision of your love, so released from fear, we may continue to practice following the Incarnate. Amen.

Four Things I Learned About Preaching After I Graduated from Theological College

This is my presentation to be given on Feb. 26th.  A whole sneak pre-view for those of you who are not in the preaching class attending the Symposium.

 

2015 Aitkens Symposium AST:  (Feb. 26^th, 2015)   - presentation as panelist -   Rev. Dr. Kimberlynn McNabb

Four Things I Learned About Preaching After I Graduated from Theological College

            Before I share four things that I have learned, it would be beneficial for you to know that I am a Lutheran pastor and currently serve at Resurrection on Windsor St. in Halifax. This is my 17^th year of ordained ministry: 11 years here in Halifax and my previous call was in a rural two point parish in New Denmark, NB.  My first sermon was delivered when I was 16 in my home parish in Owen Sound, ON, as part of a regular Sunday morning worship lead by the youth.  It was hand printed on lengths of 10cm wide strips of box board from cereal boxes…colour coded in pencil crayon to mark specific ways to speak a section or phrase.  Throughout seminary preaching gigs included rural and urban congregations in the Kitchener-Waterloo area, and internship in Sault Ste. Marie, ON, where I preached a couple times a month.

Four things I have learned about preaching:

1)       In seminary it was made quite clear that pastors and particularly those that preach need to speak, as Reinhold Niebuhr said, “with the bible in one hand and the newspaper in the other.” …although after coming out of seminary I found out that the words are also attributed to Karl Barth. Anyway, I knew, to be a good preacher who was attuned to the Gospel and the world, the Bible and the newspaper were necessities; what I didn’t know was how much more “reading” was required.

To be a good speaker of any kind, one needs to take in 10x the amount they output. Ten times!  I don’t remember where I read or heard that, but, it has dramatically affected my preaching ability. I incorporate in sermons my wrestling with texts, use illustrations from movies or plays, and reflect on novels from a theological perspective.  There is something else though, the more reading I do – that is -theological books, magazines, newspapers, historical fiction, and yes a good share of “trashy” or even “steamy” novels, the less time I spend staring at a blank screen when it comes time to prepare a sermon.  The writing of others, their combination of words, expressions, articulation of thoughts, choice of movement -  all contribute to patterns being created in the brain of the reader that facilitate the imagination and writing process for the same. A diversity of reading allows the reader a wealth of styles from which to re-create text, Gospel, and vision for preaching.

2)      I had the pleasure of having Eduard Riegert as my homiletics professor.  One of his books is here at the AST library – entitled “Imaginative Shock: Preaching and Metaphor.” Although fairly tiny in stature, Ed captivated an audience.  I heard many professors and now colleagues say that they could have listened to Ed preach all day. That was my impression too.  The reason for this, I believe, was the way in which he used his voice – words were specifically chosen and said with thought/feeling.  It was also his tone and cadence.  Ed, although if you hadn’t had him as a professor you would never know, had a significant hair lip as a child. He spent a lot of time in speech therapy learning to talk, to pronounce – through his life he had to think about every word he said before it was spoken.  Needless to say homiletics classes had a component of practicing speech exercises.  Blah! 

However, this many years later I have learned that no amount of speech therapy will help with some tics or stutters.  When I write sermons there are specific words that I avoid because I have continued difficulty with them; I think some of it comes from stumbling over the word once in a nervous situation and since has stuck in my head, or perhaps my tongue just doesn’t work right.

Every time Matthew 24: 38 comes up in the lectionary, I sweat… “For as in the day before the flood they were eating and drinking, and marrying and giving in marriage.”  Can you tell which word I avoid in sermons? Marrying, which also means carrying, burying, et cetera are also no goes. And I also have trouble with words that end in “d” with “ed” after because often I stutter:  forwarded, rewarded.  You get the picture. Instead of kicking myself, being embarrassed or extra nervous, I simply find other constructs to say that which I wish to say.

3)      I have a colleague who is not 5’ tall. In Lutheran circles preaching can take place from various places, however, more often than not in the Canadian context you will find yourself at some point in a position where you pretty much have to use the pulpit. Many of our churches were built before 1974 when women entered into ordained ministry; pulpits are for tall men. My less than 5’ tall colleague carries with her an old fashioned wooden Coke-a-cola box to every preaching gig. She places it in the pulpit before the service, that way when she gets up to preach she can see not only over the lectern, but, also, above the often fixed podium light. People see her and not a disembodied voice.

I am fairly tall and could make most pulpits work, but, I have learned to be comfortable, confident, and to make it appear as if I am not reading (or even referring to my script) that I need to adjust the podium height.  Believe it or not most old pulpit podiums move 4-5 inches, sometimes it takes a little banging to get them to move; don’t be shy - just show up a little early for the service so people don’t think you are wrecking their furniture.  In my experience it is better to have the pulpit too low than too high. If it is too high it is in one’s face and you always look like you are reading from something, further away it is more conversational.  Always be ready for a surprise…once I arrived to preach in a place where the pulpit was ridiculously low… I fixed that by slipping off my high heeled shoes.

Generally I preach from the pulpit, sometimes from the aisle, or the steps of the nave. Since seminary I have learned that the pulpit has added benefits – more than people not seeing my knees shake and more than as the symbol of the importance and high standard given to the Word – parishioners who have hearing difficulties or have trouble with accents of preachers, have shared that they prefer pulpit preaching because they are guaranteed to see, and thus read, the lips of the speaker.  In my present congregation I have a number of people who sit in the first few rows under the pulpit for that very purpose.

4)      On the day of my ordination I had a lifelong pastor, who was close to retirement, tell me never worry about an ill-prepared sermon, so long as it is ill-prepared because you were busy loving your people. He wasn’t suggesting that that could be an excuse used often, he said that because he knew how hard I would be on myself that first experience of running out of time and energy. It was four months into my first call, I was called to the manor because a 64 year woman was dying after struggling for decades with MS and a bout of breast cancer; her family wanted me there to do vigil until she passed. Hers was the first death I witnessed and the first funeral over which I would preside. Less than a week after her death, and four days before Christmas Eve, I am called because parishioners, a husband and wife in their 70s, had been killed in a car crash where an infant died in the other vehicle. As small communities go, lots of people were related, lots of people grieved, lots of pastoral care was given; three funerals in seven days, one of them a double, with Christmas preparations in full swing.  I was 25 years old, prepared, but not. Sunday came, the same day the first funeral would be in the afternoon, I had a funeral sermon but nothing for Sunday morning.  I decided to read a story, someone else’s story, “Some of My Best Friends are Trees.” –even reading it as a teacher would to her class, showing the pictures. The theme is about hope in times of darkness and paired nicely with the reading from Isaiah about hope in the desert. What I found is that the words “hit the spot” so to speak and people welcomed the style and the story – and not one complained or commented that I had failed to do my job as a preacher – because I had loved my people first.

What I continue to find is that the Word will always surprise me!   The Spirit has a way of taking whatever I preach and between my mouth and the ear and heart of the hearer, the Word changes, speaking directly to that person.  I can’t count the number of times people have said, “Pastor I appreciated when you said…..”, when I know full well I said no such thing – and I have a manuscript to prove it.  I have also found that the Word is heard despite the giver of the Word; on my worst Sundays, the days I think and feel that the sermon has been dreadful, those days I receive some of the best feedback, especially from those who rarely comment.  For this I am grateful. It is grace to know the Word when proclaimed acts in mysterious and marvelous ways.  I also take comfort that, should the preaching fail, within standard Lutheran practice the Word can still be heard and experienced on any given Sunday through the Sacrament of Eucharist.