Below is an email exchange between a worshipper and myself as a result of last Sunday's message, "Ask, Seek, Knock." It was from Luke 11:1-13 which is a teaching by Jesus on prayer that includes the Lord's Prayer, a parable of the persistent neighbor, and the "ask and it shall be given, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened ..." saying. This email refers specifically to the parable of the neighbor who has an unexpected guest arrive in the middle of the night and is horrified to see that he has no bread to offer him. In those days there was a strict code of hospitality and the most basic thing that a host was supposed to offer the guest was bread. So, he goes to his neighbor. The sleeping neighbor initially says to go away, everyone is in bed asleep. But the man finally gets up and gives is desperate neighbor the bread that he needs.
To: Pastor Jeff Lust
Subject: A thought stemming from your Sunday message...
Hi, Jeff,
In my studies at Bethany Seminary, I took a course on parables. One of the notions centered on multiple interpretations in these stories. We were invited to place God in the variety of characters in the parables and see how the story plays out. As you told the story of the person who goes to a friend at midnight to ask for bread so there would be something to provide a guest at his house (thus fulfilling the "law" of hospitality). Instead of naming the friend awakened at midnight as God, I thought it fitting to name the person asking for bread as God. With this interpretation, I see how God comes to me and asks me to do God's work of hospitality (service) to the world. In other words, it becomes a story of our mission in life to reach out to the needy.
I realize that the "ask, seek, knock" statement doesn't directly follow from this interpretation except as a way of closing the circle of the story. The visitor who journeyed to "God's" house knocked, and the one awakened at midnight (you and me) and the hands and feet of God that responds to the need.
My response ...
Hi,
Thanks for the ideas and comments. I’m familiar with the method of placing God in the different roles within a parable. You’re right, it can be very illuminating. Putting God in the story as the one knocking on the door is reminiscent also of Jesus’ words, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock.” (Rev. 3:20)
Thanks again for sending your thoughts. It’s valuable to me to hear your thoughts and to dialogue a bit.
Blessings,
Jeff
What other insights do you have? How do you see God in parables?
Trying to live by the red letters ...
Jeff
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
Red Letter Hostess
Yesterday I attended the New Mexico Symphony Orchestra & Chorus performance of Beethoven's Missa Solemnis. Beethoven considered it his greatest work, even though most people think of his 9th Symphony as his greatest. Missa Solemnis is the Catholic Mass liturgy put to incredibly complex and rich music. It is a very demanding piece for instrumentalists and vocalists alike. (My wife, Dacia, sings in the Chorus if you're wondering why in the world i would spend my Sunday afternoon at a concert.)
I could go on about the music ... but that's not why I'm writing today.
The concert was at the National Hispanic Cultural Center here in Albuquerque. I had never been there before and was on a tight schedule so I knew I would need to actually ask people for directions. (Hard to admit.) Once I got inside it was easy to spot the "will call" window to pick up my tickets. From there I didn't really know what to do. People were streaming in a couple of doors, but there was this one entry that had no line (I'm always looking for the quickest line) and one hostess there. She was a Hispanic woman that was probably in her late 60's/early 70's (always tricky to guess ages). I showed her my ticket and said, "I've never been in this building; can you tell me where I need to go?" She was very kind and helpful and I went to the correct door and followed her good directions and found my seat.
After everything was over I was hanging around in the lobby waiting for my wife. Since she is in the Chorus we are often among the last to leave the building. This same hostess walks by and stops and says, "Aren't you the gentleman who had never been here before?" Surprised she remembered me, I said, "Yes, that was me." She asked if I had enjoyed the concert to which I replied with enthusiastic support and added that it was a wonderful performance space and facility. She then began to tell me about other things available to see and do. She pointed out where the museum was and that there were three concurrent shows going on. The restaurant, the education center, and more were mentioned. She didn't go on and on. She didn't try to convince me that I needed to spend more time there or guilt me into doing something I didn't really want to do. But something of her genuineness and the way she described the other options made me want to come back and spend an entire day there.
I often wonder what visitors to our church experience. That's something I really don't get to see or hear because of the other things I'm doing. I wonder if our members are sensitive to those who are here for the first time. I wonder if our church members recognize someone the second time and check in with them. I wonder if our members provide just enough information to a visitor without being overbearing that the visitor feels an attraction to come back. In my mind, that's another way to be a red letter Christian. Simple acts of attention and kindness and hospitality go a long way.
When have you experienced exemplary hospitality? When have you experienced just the opposite?
Blessings,
Pastor Jeff
I could go on about the music ... but that's not why I'm writing today.
The concert was at the National Hispanic Cultural Center here in Albuquerque. I had never been there before and was on a tight schedule so I knew I would need to actually ask people for directions. (Hard to admit.) Once I got inside it was easy to spot the "will call" window to pick up my tickets. From there I didn't really know what to do. People were streaming in a couple of doors, but there was this one entry that had no line (I'm always looking for the quickest line) and one hostess there. She was a Hispanic woman that was probably in her late 60's/early 70's (always tricky to guess ages). I showed her my ticket and said, "I've never been in this building; can you tell me where I need to go?" She was very kind and helpful and I went to the correct door and followed her good directions and found my seat.
After everything was over I was hanging around in the lobby waiting for my wife. Since she is in the Chorus we are often among the last to leave the building. This same hostess walks by and stops and says, "Aren't you the gentleman who had never been here before?" Surprised she remembered me, I said, "Yes, that was me." She asked if I had enjoyed the concert to which I replied with enthusiastic support and added that it was a wonderful performance space and facility. She then began to tell me about other things available to see and do. She pointed out where the museum was and that there were three concurrent shows going on. The restaurant, the education center, and more were mentioned. She didn't go on and on. She didn't try to convince me that I needed to spend more time there or guilt me into doing something I didn't really want to do. But something of her genuineness and the way she described the other options made me want to come back and spend an entire day there.
I often wonder what visitors to our church experience. That's something I really don't get to see or hear because of the other things I'm doing. I wonder if our members are sensitive to those who are here for the first time. I wonder if our church members recognize someone the second time and check in with them. I wonder if our members provide just enough information to a visitor without being overbearing that the visitor feels an attraction to come back. In my mind, that's another way to be a red letter Christian. Simple acts of attention and kindness and hospitality go a long way.
When have you experienced exemplary hospitality? When have you experienced just the opposite?
Blessings,
Pastor Jeff
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Red Letter Dad
I count myself very fortunate. I was raised by Christian people in a good home. Not everyone can say that. My experience was of two loving parents who were devoted to God and committed to their church.
It's that time of year when I'm especially mindful of my Dad. He would have been 80 this past Friday. It's hard to believe he died almost nine years ago. March 13 is always a bittersweet day for me.
My Dad (and Mom, too, for that matter) was not the kind of guy who would get preachy or who would demand "right belief" from me. But he was definitely the kind of person who lived and modeled his beliefs. In the spirit of this series, my Dad took the red letters very seriously.
Dad was an early riser. He told me once he always set his alarm for 5:30, but almost always woke up at 5:15 or 5:20 on his own. (Mom is not the morning person. I took after her.) Dad would spend those early mornings getting breakfast ready for us kids and reading. When I was a teenager and my sisters were gone from home, I saw Dad spend many mornings reading the Bible and studying his devotional materials. Even though neither of us talked, his actions spoke volumes.
Again, I'm fortunate. I was raised by two people who not only showed up on Sunday for worship, but also lived the faith on a daily basis. It's easy for me to take the red letters seriously. I've seen it done my whole life.
What about you? Who have you seen live out the faith in significant ways? What are examples you can cite of people taking their faith seriously on a daily basis?
Jeff
It's that time of year when I'm especially mindful of my Dad. He would have been 80 this past Friday. It's hard to believe he died almost nine years ago. March 13 is always a bittersweet day for me.
My Dad (and Mom, too, for that matter) was not the kind of guy who would get preachy or who would demand "right belief" from me. But he was definitely the kind of person who lived and modeled his beliefs. In the spirit of this series, my Dad took the red letters very seriously.
Dad was an early riser. He told me once he always set his alarm for 5:30, but almost always woke up at 5:15 or 5:20 on his own. (Mom is not the morning person. I took after her.) Dad would spend those early mornings getting breakfast ready for us kids and reading. When I was a teenager and my sisters were gone from home, I saw Dad spend many mornings reading the Bible and studying his devotional materials. Even though neither of us talked, his actions spoke volumes.
Again, I'm fortunate. I was raised by two people who not only showed up on Sunday for worship, but also lived the faith on a daily basis. It's easy for me to take the red letters seriously. I've seen it done my whole life.
What about you? Who have you seen live out the faith in significant ways? What are examples you can cite of people taking their faith seriously on a daily basis?
Jeff
Monday, March 9, 2009
Red Letters Only
"How'r ya doin'?" "What's up?" "How's it goin'?" "Cool." "Sweet." "Sick." "Whatever." "Loser."
Our use of language grows more and more casual. There are lots of reasons for that, from the digital shorthand that we use in email and texting to the lack of prolonged conversation that used to be prevalent 50+ years ago. I'm not saying it's good or bad; it just is. But there comes a time to be more precise. To utilize the power in words and sentence structure and clear thought is almost a lost art.
In preparation for the message series, "The Scarlet Letters," I read from Luke 9:51 to the end and read only the red letters - obviously, you need a red-letter edition of the Bible. Of course, you miss out on some conversation and setting and the like, but it's a new look at what Jesus said on his way to the cross in Jerusalem.
I noticed several things that I had not really seen previously. Certainly, the tone is urgent and intense. Imagine you were going to go on a trip and you knew you would not return. What would you say to your kids? Your friends? Your colleagues? Your neighbors? I'm guessing that whatever you said there would be a kind of focus and purpose in your communication that is not usually there.
This is what you see as Jesus encounters a wide variety of people and situations on his way to Jerusalem and the cross. At times he comes across as very harsh. Other times he's confrontive. Almost always he's pressing the issue: "do you believe and what are you going to do now?" At the same time, Jesus is shown as very compassionate in Luke. He's a friend to the outcast. He gives people the benefit of the doubt. He offers a new start.
So, it's interesting to see who it is that Jesus is harsh toward and who it is that he's compassionate toward. Interestingly, he's often angriest and most confrontive with the religious folk. And the more self-righteous the religious folk, the harsher Jesus is. In contrast, Jesus is gentlest with people stricken with leprosy, in absolute poverty, or one considered a social outcast.
One summer I worked at the Durham (North Carolina) Urban Ministry Center. It was a coalitian of various churches and agencies that centralized their efforts in one building. But my assignment was a bit vague. My supervisor, whom I rarely saw, told me on my first day that my title and job description was to be "chaplain to the homeless." What a summer. I basically hung out from 8 am until 5 pm talking to whoever wanted to talk. I had no connection to a specific agency, which was good in the sense that all I could do was direct people to one office or another. This didn't stop people from asking me for money out of my own pocket, but it did create a different dynamic between the clients and me. Virtually everyone I dealt with were either mentally ill, alcoholic, drug abuser, or some combination of the three.
What about your experiences? How have you been able to know when to be compassionate and when to hold someone accountable? Maybe relate a time that you received compassion - what difference did it make to you? Let's compare notes.
Our use of language grows more and more casual. There are lots of reasons for that, from the digital shorthand that we use in email and texting to the lack of prolonged conversation that used to be prevalent 50+ years ago. I'm not saying it's good or bad; it just is. But there comes a time to be more precise. To utilize the power in words and sentence structure and clear thought is almost a lost art.
In preparation for the message series, "The Scarlet Letters," I read from Luke 9:51 to the end and read only the red letters - obviously, you need a red-letter edition of the Bible. Of course, you miss out on some conversation and setting and the like, but it's a new look at what Jesus said on his way to the cross in Jerusalem.
I noticed several things that I had not really seen previously. Certainly, the tone is urgent and intense. Imagine you were going to go on a trip and you knew you would not return. What would you say to your kids? Your friends? Your colleagues? Your neighbors? I'm guessing that whatever you said there would be a kind of focus and purpose in your communication that is not usually there.
This is what you see as Jesus encounters a wide variety of people and situations on his way to Jerusalem and the cross. At times he comes across as very harsh. Other times he's confrontive. Almost always he's pressing the issue: "do you believe and what are you going to do now?" At the same time, Jesus is shown as very compassionate in Luke. He's a friend to the outcast. He gives people the benefit of the doubt. He offers a new start.
So, it's interesting to see who it is that Jesus is harsh toward and who it is that he's compassionate toward. Interestingly, he's often angriest and most confrontive with the religious folk. And the more self-righteous the religious folk, the harsher Jesus is. In contrast, Jesus is gentlest with people stricken with leprosy, in absolute poverty, or one considered a social outcast.
One summer I worked at the Durham (North Carolina) Urban Ministry Center. It was a coalitian of various churches and agencies that centralized their efforts in one building. But my assignment was a bit vague. My supervisor, whom I rarely saw, told me on my first day that my title and job description was to be "chaplain to the homeless." What a summer. I basically hung out from 8 am until 5 pm talking to whoever wanted to talk. I had no connection to a specific agency, which was good in the sense that all I could do was direct people to one office or another. This didn't stop people from asking me for money out of my own pocket, but it did create a different dynamic between the clients and me. Virtually everyone I dealt with were either mentally ill, alcoholic, drug abuser, or some combination of the three.
What about your experiences? How have you been able to know when to be compassionate and when to hold someone accountable? Maybe relate a time that you received compassion - what difference did it make to you? Let's compare notes.
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