This poem is by my friend Phuc Luu. He is a lecturer in the religion department at Houston Baptist University, and a PhD student at St. Thomas.
anxious waiting
dangerous waiting
unexpected
being conceived
a plan
drawn in stars
and darkness
and fleeing
and inhospitality
as in the seventies
when in the middle of the night
taking off for another country
unaware
while artillery shells find new born babies Herod always hunts the Christ
beth-lehem
to bake bread for all
body
blood
the one to feed the world
will come crying
to suckle
to be God
to smell like new born deity
wrapped in soft skin
a mother and child at a metro stop
with a transfer
holding grace, homeless grace
looking at her, I try to read the plans on her face
dark constellation
to see God wrapped up anywhere
as I drive away, not knowing what waiting was really about
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Friday, December 14, 2007
If you like cool pictures...
If you're a fan of photography, I encourage you to check out a relatively new magazine called JPG. The photos are all user-submitted and thematically organized. Some of them are typical "I got lucky with my point and shoot" type, but there are quite a few beauties. They're found online here.
I've submitted a few photos there myself. You can find them here.
I've submitted a few photos there myself. You can find them here.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
A Timid Preacher's Secret
It's 10:39 on a Sunday morning, the Second Sunday of Advent, 2007. In a few minutes I'll put on a clergy robe and don the blue stole that is identical the ones the other ministers in our church will wear. They were all hand-made by a dear saint in the choir.
I'll go out for a microphone check and line up with the choir for the processional. For the next hour and a half in that robe I'll be speaking on God's behalf, I'll be an objectified symbol of religion for some, and a hopeful sign of the possibility of God for others.
It is a mantle I have accepted, but not one I would choose.
I wouldn't choose it because every Sunday morning I am sick to my stomach. I've preached nearly 500 sermons in my life, and yet I spend 30 wrenching minutes in the bathroom every time. I do it because I am afraid. Now don't go thinking you can talk me out of this - others have tried, and frankly I think the fear is somewhat healthy.
It's not that I'm afraid of speaking in public. I do that lots, and if it's not in worship then I don't get sick. Honestly, I'm afraid of God. I'm afraid of hurting someone. I'm afraid of saying something that would distract from God almost as much as I fear having nothing to say at all. I fear that people will see that blue stole as a costume cover up for the fact that sometimes I am a doubting Thomas, sometimes I am a cynic about religion, and that sometimes I am closer to leaving the pulpit than to staying.
I don't want to do anything to injure someone's faith. So lean in here, and I'll tell you the secret of how and why I get up and preach Sunday in and Sunday out despite all these fears. If you were near me I'd be whispering now. The secret is that God does this work through frail humans like me and you despite our fear. When I walk into the sanctuary in a few minutes I'll pray that same prayer as last Sunday: God, I've done what I can to prepare for this, the rest is up to You.
Amen.
I'll go out for a microphone check and line up with the choir for the processional. For the next hour and a half in that robe I'll be speaking on God's behalf, I'll be an objectified symbol of religion for some, and a hopeful sign of the possibility of God for others.
It is a mantle I have accepted, but not one I would choose.
I wouldn't choose it because every Sunday morning I am sick to my stomach. I've preached nearly 500 sermons in my life, and yet I spend 30 wrenching minutes in the bathroom every time. I do it because I am afraid. Now don't go thinking you can talk me out of this - others have tried, and frankly I think the fear is somewhat healthy.
It's not that I'm afraid of speaking in public. I do that lots, and if it's not in worship then I don't get sick. Honestly, I'm afraid of God. I'm afraid of hurting someone. I'm afraid of saying something that would distract from God almost as much as I fear having nothing to say at all. I fear that people will see that blue stole as a costume cover up for the fact that sometimes I am a doubting Thomas, sometimes I am a cynic about religion, and that sometimes I am closer to leaving the pulpit than to staying.
I don't want to do anything to injure someone's faith. So lean in here, and I'll tell you the secret of how and why I get up and preach Sunday in and Sunday out despite all these fears. If you were near me I'd be whispering now. The secret is that God does this work through frail humans like me and you despite our fear. When I walk into the sanctuary in a few minutes I'll pray that same prayer as last Sunday: God, I've done what I can to prepare for this, the rest is up to You.
Amen.
Friday, December 07, 2007
No God, No Peace - No Kidding!
This photo is by Sandra Bello, found at this website. The sign says "No Peace - No God. Know God - Know Peace." Follow the link to see it more clearly.
No God, No Peace - No Kidding!
I despise bumper sticker theology. After all, how can you condense the Holy One to a sound-bite? One that I see frequently is “No God – No Peace. Know God – Know Peace.” Frankly, it annoys me, because it’s only half true. “No God, No Peace.” Check. I agree with that idea. But there are quite a few Christians who “Know God” but do not know anything about peace. Not in their homes, not in their souls, not in their world.
We await a peaceable kingdom that Jesus intends to bring to earth, but the human bent toward self makes true peace impossible in the world as we know it. Peace requires us to give up some of ourselves, our ideals, and even some of our wealth – and most of us are reluctant to change the things that make us un-peace-able people. We can’t get peace between ethnic groups because we refuse to give up our un-peace-able stereotypes. We can’t get peace in our marriages because we refuse to give up our un-peace-able notion that love is all about feeling good. We can’t get peace between nations because we refuse to give up our un-peace-able levels of status, comfort, and consumption.
Peace will not come until the Prince of Peace exerts the power of the gospel of love in a fulfilled kingdom, a kingdom for which I yearn more and more as I age. I criticize warring nations – including our own – but governments can no more beat cruise missiles and combat vehicles into plowshares than I can beat my own un-peace-able behaviors into pruning hooks. And until we Christians can manage to bring peace to our homes and churches, we cannot even begin to imagine peace in the Congo or the Middle East or even in our own Senate.
What we need is the one who frames our Advent waiting – a coming messiah who will rule with justice and mercy and who will lead us to intentionally move toward unity by way of an oh-so-subtle drift toward grace. Only then will we truly be able to say that when we “Know God” we “Know Peace.” But until then, you and I can strive to get rid of the un-peace-able planks in our own eyes so that, upon seeing more clearly, we can look with love and peace at others. That’s the fodder for the sermon this Sunday – it’s called All the Earth Awaits Peace and it comes from Isaiah 2.1-5. We worship at 11:10 am this week and I hope you’ll join us.
Shabbat Shalom,
Pastor Gary
Not a Sermon – Just a Thought is a weekly email written in hopes of getting you to think about your faith and your everyday world. If you wish to no longer receive this email, or would like to receive it every week delivered free to your e-box, shoot me an email at glong@wmbc.org. I’m the pastor at Willow Meadows Baptist Church in Houston, Texas, and you can find more info about us at www.wmbc.org.
Isaiah 2:1-5
2:1 The word that Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem.
2:2 In days to come the mountain of the Lord's house shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be raised above the hills; all the nations shall stream to it.
2:3 Many peoples shall come and say, "Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths." For out of Zion shall go forth instruction, and the word of the LORD from Jerusalem.
2:4 He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.
2:5 O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the LORD!
We await a peaceable kingdom that Jesus intends to bring to earth, but the human bent toward self makes true peace impossible in the world as we know it. Peace requires us to give up some of ourselves, our ideals, and even some of our wealth – and most of us are reluctant to change the things that make us un-peace-able people. We can’t get peace between ethnic groups because we refuse to give up our un-peace-able stereotypes. We can’t get peace in our marriages because we refuse to give up our un-peace-able notion that love is all about feeling good. We can’t get peace between nations because we refuse to give up our un-peace-able levels of status, comfort, and consumption.
Peace will not come until the Prince of Peace exerts the power of the gospel of love in a fulfilled kingdom, a kingdom for which I yearn more and more as I age. I criticize warring nations – including our own – but governments can no more beat cruise missiles and combat vehicles into plowshares than I can beat my own un-peace-able behaviors into pruning hooks. And until we Christians can manage to bring peace to our homes and churches, we cannot even begin to imagine peace in the Congo or the Middle East or even in our own Senate.
What we need is the one who frames our Advent waiting – a coming messiah who will rule with justice and mercy and who will lead us to intentionally move toward unity by way of an oh-so-subtle drift toward grace. Only then will we truly be able to say that when we “Know God” we “Know Peace.” But until then, you and I can strive to get rid of the un-peace-able planks in our own eyes so that, upon seeing more clearly, we can look with love and peace at others. That’s the fodder for the sermon this Sunday – it’s called All the Earth Awaits Peace and it comes from Isaiah 2.1-5. We worship at 11:10 am this week and I hope you’ll join us.
Shabbat Shalom,
Pastor Gary
Not a Sermon – Just a Thought is a weekly email written in hopes of getting you to think about your faith and your everyday world. If you wish to no longer receive this email, or would like to receive it every week delivered free to your e-box, shoot me an email at glong@wmbc.org. I’m the pastor at Willow Meadows Baptist Church in Houston, Texas, and you can find more info about us at www.wmbc.org.
Isaiah 2:1-5
2:1 The word that Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem.
2:2 In days to come the mountain of the Lord's house shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be raised above the hills; all the nations shall stream to it.
2:3 Many peoples shall come and say, "Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths." For out of Zion shall go forth instruction, and the word of the LORD from Jerusalem.
2:4 He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.
2:5 O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the LORD!
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Have You Ever Been There?
An office mate at WMBC sent me this:
DADDY'S GONNA EAT YOUR FINGERS
I was packing for my business trip and my three year old daughter was having a wonderful time playing on the bed.
At one point she said, "Daddy, look at this", and stuck out two of her fingers.
Trying to keep her entertained, I reached out and stuck her tiny fingers in my mouth and said, "Daddy's gonna eat your fingers", pretending to eat them. I went back to packing, looked up again, and my daughter was standing on the bed staring at her fingers with a devastated look on her face.
I said, "What's wrong, honey?"
She replied, "What happened to my booger?"
DADDY'S GONNA EAT YOUR FINGERS
I was packing for my business trip and my three year old daughter was having a wonderful time playing on the bed.
At one point she said, "Daddy, look at this", and stuck out two of her fingers.
Trying to keep her entertained, I reached out and stuck her tiny fingers in my mouth and said, "Daddy's gonna eat your fingers", pretending to eat them. I went back to packing, looked up again, and my daughter was standing on the bed staring at her fingers with a devastated look on her face.
I said, "What's wrong, honey?"
She replied, "What happened to my booger?"
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