An inspired Fighting Apostle squad accepted the Church Softball All-Star Game Challenge and delivered in full measure, pounding out another 17 runs in a 17-5 win over New Covenant last Sunday.

For those participating in the challenge, the Apostles recorded 34 runs in the last two games and would be happy to present your check to the Community Action Center at the July 13^th event. Tristan Cox and Greg Muth will be representing us there.

There were lots of heroes in last week’s game, our one-legged pitcher, Doug Morris, for one, who valiantly hurled the win despite a pulled hamstring and no extended warranty on parts and labor. Mark Beaver continued to deliver at the plate as did Tristan Cox, Jacob Newman, Matt Forster and others.

But the real story of the game was Eli Szydlo. He had three hits and two runs scored, but more importantly made pivotal, if not determinant play in the field to seal the win. New Covenant was threatening with a late-inning rally, when a screaming liner was hit right at him in  right field. He barely had time to react, but he coolly gloved it for an out that took the starch out of our opposition. We countered with six runs in the top of the seventh and coasted to the win.

We are off this week, but will resume play on July 13^th when we play the Rejoice Prophets at 6:10 p.m. at Sechler Two. It is better than reality TV.

 My Least Favorite Story

Genesis 22:1-14; Psalm 13:1-5

One of the curious gifts of coming to faith as an adult was seriously encountering many of the stories in the bible for the first time. Some stories turned out to be full of meaning and delight for me – the story of Esther, for example, whose courage saved her people, or of the Syrophoenician woman who challenged Jesus when he tried to brush her off. Other stories, however, turned out to be horrifying; what Biblical Scholar Phyllis Trible [1984] called Texts of Terror.

This tale of God testing Abraham by asking for the sacrifice of his son Isaac is one of these.

As if the story were not dreadful enough by itself, there are two events in my own life that made this story painful and quickly moved it to the top of my list of least favorite Bible stories.

The first happened at the church family camp we attended for several years with our members of our church in Seattle. One year the associate pastor worked with the youth during the week, and they rewrote several Bible stories into modern times. One, I think was the story of the Good Samaritan, and they transformed the Samaritan into a drug dealer driving an expensive car (back when that meant a Cadillac and not a Hummer). The one that I remember most starkly, however, was this story of Abraham and Isaac, which they retold in terms of Todd, the Associate Pastor, and his four-year-old daughter Nicole. In their version, Todd and Nicole were out canoeing on the lake – something they did nearly every day at camp. It was there that Todd heard God tell him to sacrifice his daughter by throwing her out of the canoe into the water. By now, I was having trouble even listening to this story. Anyway, they described him weeping, but picking her up in his arms and standing up, ready to obey – and just then God spoke again and relieved him of that unspeakable requirement. I am haunted to this day by the vision of my friend standing in that canoe. It contradicts my own experience of God’s presence in my life, and my own understanding of God’s call to us to be disciples of Jesus Christ. There is nothing in my faith that has anything to do with this dreadful scene.

The second event was my separation from my younger daughter Colleen when I went to Berkeley to go to seminary. Her father – my ex-husband – and I struggled mightily with where the girls should live when I moved to California, and finally agreed – I with great sadness and reluctance – that Colleen would remain in Seattle and continue at the school she was attending and Amanda would go to Berkeley with me. I missed her dreadfully, though we managed to see each other fairly frequently and to maintain a good, if long-distance, relationship. And most of the time I accepted this as the profoundly unfortunate result of our divorce – one that we managed as gracefully and lovingly as we could.

But sometimes, I felt very like Abraham – that my call to ministry had come with a terrible price. One of my good friends reminded me, when I returned to this lament, that the call to ministry had come from God, but the complications of divorce were human matters that ought not to be blamed on God. I believed that then, and I believe it now, but it didn’t keep me from feeling dreadful sometimes.

With all of this baggage weighing down Genesis 22 for me, it is not surprising that I cannot find in my files any sermons that I have actually preached on this text. But this spring when I was attending the conference on preaching (with the unlikely title, Festival of Homiletics!), I heard noted preacher Barbara Brown Taylor deliver a sermon on her least favorite text. It was not the most elegant or polished sermon that we heard, but it had a kind of raw and honest quality that caught my attention. So when this text appeared in the lectionary for June, I resolved to dig into it, even in the face of my discomfort.

The first thing I had to do was the remove myself and my friends from my understanding of the story. While it can be extraordinarily helpful to translate ancient stories into modern times, it can also be extraordinarily unhelpful – and it has become that way for me. This story did not happen to my friend Todd and his daughter, and it did not happen to me and my daughter; it happened – insofar as it is a factual report of events – in the culture of the ancient Middle East. We need to listen to this story with anthropological ears – understanding that it comes from a different time, a different place, and a different way of life.

Moreover, we hear this story in the book of Genesis, which is not a history textbook or a collection of newspaper stories, but a narrative of identity for God’s people. It tells where the world came from and where we came from, and like the creation stories of many peoples around the world, it tells us those things in narratives – of which this is one. We need to listen to this text, then, with literary ears – understanding that the voices that preserved this story for hundreds of years were not journalists, but people of faith describing what the world is like and how it came to be that way.

Having said all of that, I found myself asking what truths might be held within this story. That’s partly the question of getting beyond the resistance that comes from my own life and experience, and it is partly the question of whether there is some wisdom here that is deeper than the surface details for anyone who might be listening. In either sense, the answer is yes: God’s call to us sometimes challenges our deepest attachments and affections. [repeat]

That, my friends, is a deeply disorienting and disturbing idea to those of us who live in this culture where we value our families, our friends, and our way of life so highly. It is hard for us even to imagine that God does not share these loyalties, and hold them as strongly as we do. That’s especially true during those times in our lives when God’s love, care, and presence come to us primarily through our families and friends. If God is working through these relationships, then surely God thinks they are primary, too.

One of the painful lessons of the faith, I think, is that these treasured relationships of ours may not always be primary in God’s eyes. Recall how uncomfortable we are with the words of Jesus when he tells his followers that they must leave their homes and families, or even more strongly, that they must hate their mothers and fathers if they are to follow him. Even allowing for dramatic exaggeration in his words, it is clear that in Jesus’ eyes, there is a need to proclaim that our family ties – however strong, valuable, and precious they are – may not be the most important thing in our lives.

Not surprisingly, this uncomfortable proclamation is easier to see in others than it is in ourselves. I attended the Festival of Homiletics with an old friend who went to seminary the same time I did from the same congregation in Seattle. The challenge in her decision was about her finances – she worried about providing for her son while she was in school, and about how he would feel sharing a very frugal life for three years. When we were reminiscing last month, she reminded me that what I had told her at the time was that Colin would learn that he was not the only important thing in her life.

I still do not like this story of Abraham being told to sacrifice his son Isaac. I still hear it as barbaric and disturbing, and as misrepresenting the God of Shalom. But when I can silence the voices of outrage in my mind, I also recognize that it carries this important theological message – God’s call to us sometimes challenges our deepest attachments and affections. This is not an easy message to hear, nor to live by. But we would squander the wisdom of our ancestors in the faith if we did not listen to it, at least from time to time.

Amen.

Prayer for June 29, 2008

Almighty and everlasting God, creator of all things seen and unseen, hear now our silent prayers, as we open our hearts to you in the sacred quietness.

God of faith and hope, we bring before you our prayers for those we have named this morning – we especially remember … Bring to each of them the gifts of mercy and grace that are most needed, according to your wisdom and love.

God of all of our days, this morning we bring to you our prayers of thanksgiving for the gifts of rest, play, and recreation, and our prayers for the wise and joyful use of those gifts.

God of creation, we remember that you rested after the great works of calling forth the earth and all its creatures. We remember your commandment to keep the Sabbath, and to keep it holy. Still, we confess that obeying this commandment – even partially – can be more difficult than other commandments that seem, on the face of it, to be more demanding.

And so we pray this morning that you will help us set aside our sense of urgency for tasks that really do not have to be done today, for obligations that could be met tomorrow, for responsibilities that can be postponed or reduced. Open our hearts and minds to clear discernment between what truly needs to be undertaken, and what we continue to do from habit or anxiety or self-indulgence. Help us to edit our calendars so that there will be spaces in which we can be renewed, restored, and refreshed.

And then we pray, God of our hearts, for the spiritual freedom to fully experience and express our joy – our joy at the wonders of your creation and our joy at the richness of our human relationships and connections. Let that joy be expressed through our bodies and our voices, through our creative activities and our delight in eating, sleeping, and entertaining one another.

We give you special thanks for the gifts of humor and laughter, for their power to heal us, to bring our concerns into perspective, to undermine arrogance and foolishness, and to interrupt our self-centeredness. Do not, we pray, let us fall into habits of using humor to humiliate or embarrass others, or as a substitute for difficult conversations about important matters.

And finally, we pray that the practice of Sabbath, whether undertaken on a particular day or scattered through the week, will remind us of the goodness of creation and of your unending and extravagant love for everything and everyone you have brought into being.

All these things we pray in the name of the one who came that we might have great joy, the one we name as Jesus the Christ, and in whose words we now pray together …

Quick to the rescue came my friend and Carleton Librarian Carol Eyler.  With help from her colleagues, she located a service that will freeze dry (really!) the Bible to make sure that no mold develops and the pages stay flat (and not “cockled”– which is that wrinkly post-moist thing that paper does).  And she arranged to have it shipped — complete with dry ice to make sure it doesn’t get moldy — to the book hospital in Illinois.

So a big THANK YOU to our friends at Carleton for this bit of community service.  We’ll let you know when the Bible is back!

PS…They won the game last night:) 

These guys can hit:

    The Fighting Apostles used the entire field last Sunday to defeat Little Prairie 17-6.

    We hit them hard. We hit them soft. We hit the lines. We hit the gaps, and we even hit one off the fence, thanks to Doug Morris. But the point is we hit, and we hit, and we hit.

   In fact, three of our guys — Doug, Tristan Cox and Mike Schlottmann — each hit inside the park homeruns. Mike’s was notable not only for his well-stroked ball that rolled to the fence, but also for how artfully he tip-toed around the bases trying to avoid outrunning Dave Burton, the base-runner in front of him. It was like “me and my shadow” as they crossed home plate a split second apart.

    The defense was solid. Greg Muth turned in the play of the game. An outfielder who was asked to plug a hole at second base, Greg pounced on the first ball hit his way, scooped it up and came up throwing, delivering a strike to first base for the out.

   Those participating in the Church All-Star Game Challenge for the CAC will note the 17 runs scored. We’ve challenged folks to contribute one dollar for every run scored in last week’s game and in tonight’s contest against New Covenant. Check the website early next week to see how we did and let your conscience be your guide.

Submitted by Scott “Manager of the Year” Richardson

Hagar and Sarah

Genesis 21:8-21; Psalm 86:1-10, 16-17  Hagar and Sarah

This summer we are following the story of the Patriarchs of the faith: Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. But as we do that, we are also following the Matriarchs of Israel: Sarah and Hagar, Rebekah, Rachel, and Leah. They are an interesting bunch, these women of the ancient past. They often appear by wells or springs, particularly when they are about to become wives. They are often barren, but those who are to have children receive divinely sent annunciations of one kind or another. Some engage in trickery or deception to further the careers of their husbands or sons.

It is hard to know, from our modern perspective, just what to make of all of this.

On the one hand, we hear the stories of these women only as they concern the affairs of their fathers, husbands, and sons. It is the linking of clans, not the attraction between individuals, that is celebrated in their marriages. On the other hand, when we read carefully, it seems that some of them have more power and influence than we would expect of women in that ancient culture of the Middle East. In particular, it appears that the women are the critical ancestors for the proper continuation of the Israelites. As we hear in today’s lesson, it is Sarah who must bear the heir for Abraham, and not Hagar. Later in the story, we will likewise learn that it is Rachel (and not Leah) who will be the mother of Joseph. And the blessing and inheritance that are expected to go to Esau as the older son of Rebekah and Isaac, instead are given to Jacob, who is his mother’s favorite. All through this family line, it is the wishes of the women that are in line with God’s wishes.

Biblical scholar Susan Niditch puts it this way:

“…virtually no hero worth his salt in Genesis is born under circumstances that are ordinary for his mother. It is the unusual and often initially infertile women who have special births. It is their sons who count in the ongoing tradition. These women mother nations and receive special communications about the child to be born. [Susan Niditch, “Genesis,” in The Women’s Bible Commentary, Carol A. Newsom and Sharon H. Ringe, editors. Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1992]

Niditch’s view, of course, is not the traditional reading of the story of Sarah and Hagar. In the conventional reading, these two women seem to be rivals, jealous of one another and vying for their sons to be the rightful heirs of Abraham. It is not very flattering for either of them, but it surely has a ring of truth to it. Like most of the stories in the Bible, this tale of two women and their rivalry is not a tale populated by perfect role-models, but by imperfect characters.

Characters are, I think, far more interesting and engaging than role-models. Those that we hold up as models, those whom we think of as perfect, must by necessity be rather simply drawn: Heroes are always heroic, and villains are always villainous. That is certainly not our experience in real life. In real life, our heroes often disappoint or disillusion us with their foibles and failings, and villains often confuse us with moments of compassion, loyalty, and honor. Characters – in literature, drama, public life, or the Bible – draw us into their stories because they are not portrayed in simple ways, but in genuinely human and complex and contradictory ways.

Consider Sarah and Hagar. Sarah (then called Sarai) left her home and family in response to God’s command to Abraham (still named Abram). Along the way were many hardships, including a painful interlude in Egypt when Abraham insisted that she be named as his sister instead of his wife. She ended up in the harem because Abraham feared that otherwise his life would be in jeopardy. It seems likely that the servant (really slave) Hagar joined their household in Egypt. Anyway, God had promised Abraham that he would have many descendants, and yet Sarah was barren. So she suggested that Abraham take her servant Hagar as a “second wife” (interesting euphemism, that). Since Sarah was the “first wife,” the child would “count” familially as hers, even if it were not biologically hers.

As we might expect, this plan did not go well! When Hagar became pregnant, she developed what we would call “an attitude” – in the words of the 16^th chapter of Genesis, “she looked with contempt on her mistress.” Sarah complained to Abraham, who told her to deal with Hagar as she wished. The harsh treatment continued, and Hagar ran away. God intervened, Hagar returned home, and Ishmael was born.

God intervened with Sarah as well, and she, too, bore a son – Isaac. When Isaac was old enough to be weaned, the rivalry between the women heated up again, and once again Hagar was banished, this time with her son. And once again God intervened, provided water to save Hagar and Ishmael.

We could not write a modern story about marriage, relocation, infertility, surrogate motherhood, jealousy, and generally dysfunctional family relationships with any more drama than is found in this ancient narrative. Whether we have lived personally though any of those events, or just watched as relatives and friends did, we recognize what is going on here. But the punch line in the Biblical narrative is that God is present and working in and through all of these events. We might expect that God would be present and working in spite of these events; the surprise is that God enters into this messy situation and, through it, creates and blesses God’s people, Israel.

That is not to suggest that God creates chaotic human situations in order to do great deeds. On the contrary, we human beings are quite capable of stirring up chaotic situations without any divine assistance. What God does is to travel with us on our untidy and fitful life journeys, transforming our fallibilities and our follies. The Kingdom of God is not being created from perfection, but from reality.

When I was a seminary intern, one of my assignments was to work with the youth group at the Woodside Village Church. As a way to get acquainted, I asked each of them to draw a family tree for their family. I was surprised at their reluctance to share these drawings, until I realized that every one of them had a complication of some kind. So I had them open the Bible to the book of Genesis, and we made a family tree for Abraham and Sarah and their descendents. They were startled to realize that the things they were self-conscious about were the same things that were found in families in the Bible.

And in an only slightly more sophisticated way, I think we are all surprised when we see that our own foibles, our own failings, our own errors, and (yes) our own sins are all portrayed for us in scripture. If we can look past the differences in culture between modern America and the ancient Middle East, and if we can somehow translate the particulars of life then (like shepherds and mangers to temples and crucifixion) to the particulars of life now – if we can do that, we find ourselves on these pages.

One word of warning about that discovery though: we rarely find our whole selves in any one Biblical character. Most of us are not just Sarah (unhappy when we get what we thought we wanted), or just Hagar (resentful when required to do something we didn’t choose); most of us have had both of these experiences. We are not asked to be just Mary or just Martha; we are not asked to be just Peter or just Paul (or even just Judas). God does not need us to recreate and portray biblical characters in our own lives, as though the Bible was the great script of human history and we were the repertory company.

Better, I think, to consider the Bible as the journal of the people of God: a volume in which faithful people have told their stories – warts and all – about their encounters with God and with all that is holy. We learn from their stories, but our faith is not about copying their journal entries, it is about compiling our own memoirs, our own stories about our encounters with God and with all that is holy. May we do that with as much fierceness and honesty as our grandmothers in the faith, Sarah and Hagar.

Amen.

Prayer for June 22, 2008

Almighty and everlasting God, creator of all things seen and unseen, hear now our silent prayers, as we open our hearts to you in the sacred quietness.

God of faith and hope, we bring before you our prayers for those we have named this morning – we especially remember … Bring to each of them the gifts of mercy and grace that are most needed, according to your wisdom and love.

God of all times and all places, we pray this morning for all those who are victims of floods.

We remember first our neighbors in the Midwest whose homes, farms, schools, and businesses have been damaged by storms and flooding. We pray for their patience, persistence, and hope in the months ahead as they clean up and begin to rebuild. We pray, too, for all the family members, friends, and volunteers who have already come – and will continue to come – to their aid.

We remember, too, the victims of flooding in China. Help us, we pray, to care as deeply for the suffering of our far-away neighbors as we do for those who are close at hand. Instill in us the resolve to offer our aid to all people who are suffering, and to recognize the ways in which our common suffering can bring us together.

We pray this morning also for the floods that wash over our souls when too much bad news, too many financial reverses, too many deaths, too much trouble rushes over us.. Help us to hold fast in the midst of these rising waters: to remember that you are always with us, to remember that ill fortune is not a judgment upon us, to remember that we are companions to one another in times of trouble.

And we ask for forgiveness for the floods that we help to cause. When our self-centeredness and greed bring deprivations to other people, open our eyes and help us to undo what we have done. When our carelessness brings care to our neighbors, call us to account.

Since we cannot always get out of the way of the floods of life, we pray O Gracious God, that you will make lessons for us out of these disasters. Teach us to be more reflective about the possible outcomes of our actions; help us to hear the cries of those who are threatened by the rising waters; draw us into acts of compassion that will ease suffering, and acts of justice that will prevent more suffering in the future.

All these things we ask in the name of the one with the power to calm the storm, even Jesus the Christ, and we pray together now in the words that he taught us …