Tim Tebow

            Since we are now past the hype of Tim Tebow and the Broncos, I want to offer a few thoughts about the quarterback.  Like many of you, I have seen the Saturday Night Live and Jimmy Fallon skits, and have laughed, too.  But now that the laughter has died down, I am finding that these skits and other criticisms of Tim Tebow reveal how little our culture really knows about prayer.

            The first suggestion these skits and others make is that Tim Tebow prays too much.  Somehow, he is annoying Jesus with all his praying.  He should calm down, not be so enthusiastic about his relationship with Christ.  Jesus, of course, tells us the exact opposite.  He tells us of a story of a poor widow who keeps bugging a corrupt judge about getting justice.  The judge gets so sick of her request that she grants her justice just to get her off his back.  Jesus then says, “will God then answer the prayers of those who cry out to him, day and night?  I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?”  Scripture also tells us that we should “pray without ceasing,” which many devout monks and nuns have striven to do over centuries.  

 Saturday Night Live Skit

            This skit also seems to think that God (Jesus) gets sick of hearing so many prayers.  Yet this assumes that God is like us: someone who easily gets tired of listening to people drone on about their problems.  Yet, if this is true, wouldn’t God just get sick of everyone praying?  In the film Bruce Almighty, the main character experiences of the amount of praying going up do God every second of every day, and he cannot handle it.  Yet God is God and not a human being, and, being God, he can easily handle it.  God listens to the prayers of billions of people every day, and treats each person as if they are the only ones he is listening to.  And God does this while sustaining the whole universe, with billions of stars and planets.

            I believe that many people are critical of Tim Tebow praying because he reveals the sparse nature of their life of prayer.  When they see him “Tebowing” – getting down on one knew to pray – they feel the same embarrassment as when they are around the Thanksgiving table and face that awkward moment.  They look at one another, wondering who is going to offer a prayer at Thanksgiving.  It really makes me wonder how many people feel awkward, afraid or ashamed of praying in public – of expressing their faith openly, exposing themselves as a person of faith and risking the ridicule of other.  Jesus tells people, “Whoever is ashamed of me and my words, the Son of Man will be ashamed of them when he comes in his glory and in the glory of the Father and of the holy angels.”  Tim Tebow challenges all of us to be courageous and honest about our faith.

            The other suggestion people are making is that he is asking God to give him victory in the football game and then thanking Jesus for giving him that victory.  If Tebow has been raised in a strong Christian environment, where scripture is read and pray is offered regularly, I believe he would have realized, at one point in time, that God is not a God who takes sides in anything, including football games.  Scripture is full of examples of God not taking sides, but acting out of his own divine wisdom and sovereign will.

            I wonder how Tebow’s critics really know what exactly Tim Tebow is praying for?  Perhaps he is praying for God to give him strength and courage to face the challenge before him.  If I am a quarterback on a football team, charged with leading a team to victory, facing 350 pound linebackers running after me as I drop back to pass, I think I would be praying, too.  I hope we all pray for God to give us strength and wisdom and courage to face whatever we have to face in life. 

            I am grateful for Tim Tebow’s faith and how it has opened up a discussion on the nature of prayer and and  prodded us to think about how God is involved in our lives.  I only hope his critics can somehow listen and learn from his faithful witness.

What New Paint Can Do

After decades - some members of the congregation cannot even remember it - our church sanctuary is getting painted.  Of course, we are dealing with "inconveniences."   We expected the painting to have been completed before this weekend, but such was not the case.  We spent a second Sunday worshipping in our fellowship hall, and I think everyone is really looking forward to getting back to normal.

But overall, the mood is very positive about the painting.  I might even say the painting has been part of the way God is transforming our church.  We all like to think that the church is the people of God - it is not the building, but buildings do matter, and how they look make a huge difference.

When I was pastoring in a traditional white New England meetinghouse, I often heard people complaining about how people talk and chat before worship, that they weren't getting into the proper frame of mind.  I would often say, "of course they are.  Take a look at this church - it is a meetinghouse.  The very architecture and color of the sanctuary has so much to do with how you act in it.  If the colors are white and bright, with sunshine pouring through clear windows, of course you are going to meet one another and chat before the service."  On the opposite end, when I entered Chartre Cathedral in France, the magnificence and the darkness overtook me.  The stained glass light, the massive ceilings and columns, the huge ornate altar all told me that I was in the presence of the Almighty.  How dare I speak, no less chat!

Getting back to Houghs Neck - the whole prospect of having the church painted was an exciting one for us.  When we had the wall surrounding the window in the chancel area redone, we took down this heavy, old, velvet, maroon colored curtain.  People started asking what it's liturgical purpose was, and if we needed to have it there.  I replied the only purpose it served was to cover up the wall that was crumbling apart from water damage - there was no theological purpose at all. 

They saw this wall in front of them, bright white from the primer paint.  They saw how it lightened things up, and they started to think in terms of new possibilities.  Things could look different.  Just because we had it that way for decades didn't mean we had to keep it that way.  Now, they thought, we could paint the church a different color.  Instead of a ivory-ish yellowish color that had the look of decay, they could find something that brightened the sanctuary. 

Of course, then came the time to choose the new color.  The prospect of a whole church choosing a new color reminded me of a cartoon I saw.  It showed a pile of mangled bodies, strewn around a table.  The caption read, "so now it's decided, we'll paint the kindergarten room green."  Actually, the opposite happened.  There came consensus around the color, without much heavy debate or argument.  As long as everybody's opinion was heard, I found it fairly easy for the church to come around to choose a color.  But there was a surprise even there.  They wanted the archway around that window in the chancel to be a light blue and the rest of the sanctuary wall to be a white, with a hint of blue in it.  In other words, the new possibilities inspired them to get more creative than I expected.

The new paint looks great - just look at the photos above to see what it does to the church.  The paint seems to be part of a feeling of new things happening.  It's a breath of fresh air.  Perhaps a breath of the Holy Spirit coming upon us.  It reminds me of the quote from Revelation: "behold, I am making all things new."  The new color has become a symbol of hope and optimism that is upon our church.  Believe me, it's not all about the paint - there is much more happening.  Yet the paint is definitely part of it.  Can new paint be a reflection of God's grace?  From what I see, I have no doubt about it.



 

The Theology of Clam Chowder

I can't believe it - I actually won first place in the Houghs Neck Chowdafest competition!  By one vote!  I entered for the first time last year, just to see, and I came in second.  I really never expected it.  It is a strange experience putting your chowder out there for everybody to taste and judge.  The best part is that you get to meet hundreds of people who come up to you.  As a pastor, it's critical to connect with the community, and this is such a great opportunity.

A few interesting things about the experience.  First is the experience of how "buzz" works.  Word of mouth is powerful, and somehow, you build momentum for your chowder through word of mouth.  People try it, and tell others that you have the best chowder.  Word of mouth is so real and so important, whether in chowders or in churches.  If you have a good product, word will get around.

Another thing: people kept asking me about my "secret ingredient."  Some tasted cinnamon.  Some thought it was garlic or fennel.  Quite frankly, there really wasn't any secret ingredient.  The chowder is as simple as can be, really.  It's amazing what people taste that is simply not there.  It's just like when people come to me after I preach a sermon about love and they thank me for my sermon on hope.  So much of this is subjective.

One last thing: several people asked me if I made the chowder.  I didn't know what to say.  "No, my mother made it?"  "I got it out of a can?"  Of course I made it!  I just wonder why they ask.  Don't they think a man can make chowder of something?  I really don't know.

The best part of the day is that it was a great event for the Houghs Neck Community Council, who raises most of it's money here at the chowdafest.  There were 1300 people there, and it was so good to see everybody getting out, and enjoying a great day.  It was also a great day for Houghs Neck Congregational Church.  We raised a lot of money at a Bake Sale table to fund the playgrounds in the area.  We sold great t-shirts to help the church.  Marty Gordon, a great member of the church and community, won the "Mayor of Houghs Neck" competition.  I couldn't imagine a better day.

A lot of people now are encouraging me to give a recipe for the chowder.  I made 9 gallons of chowder for the day, so you probably don't want that recipe.  But here is the "home" version of my "award winning" chowder.

I prefer my chowder on the creamy side, rather than the milky side, so that is why I put in a flour/butter roux and use half and half.   A good "mouth feel" is important.  I know this is not exactly "health food" but I think you really need the fat to make it taste good (I know Julia Child is with me on this one).  I also want to make sure people taste clams, so plenty of clam juice is important.  Believe it or not, the bacon helps give it a "sea" taste.  I think part of the appeal of clams and other shell fish is getting a sensation of "sea water" as you eat the clams.  Same thing with clam chowder.  I put in the clams at very last, since they cook pretty quickly and turn rubbery if they cook to much.

3 oz.   Bacon
1 onion, chopped
3 stalks celery, with leaves, finely diced
1 1/4 lb.  potatoes, diced to 1/2 inch cubes
1 quart  clam juice
3/4 cup flour
1 1/2 sticks butter
1 1/2 quarts half and half
12 oz.  chopped clams
salt and white pepper to taste

1.  In a large stock pot, fry bacon over medium heat until crisp.  Remove to paper towel.  When cool, crumble into small pieces.
2.  Saute onions and celery  in bacon fat until soft.  Add potatoes.
3.  Add clam juice and bring to a simmer.
4.  In a separate pan, melt butter and add the flour.  Constantly stir mixture on medium-low heat until smooth, about 3 minutes.
5.  Add flour/butter mixture to simmering stock.  Stir until thick and stock comes back to a simmer.
6.  Add half and half and bring back to simmer, stirring.  Gently simmer for 15 minutes, stirring often.
7.  Season with salt and pepper.
8.  Add the clams.  Simmer for a few minutes more and serve.

Keeping the Sabbath 'Wholly'

Sabbath has been a topic I have been interested in since Seminary.  I must have written six or seven papers on Sabbath, from Biblical, Ethical and Pastoral perspectives.  It is near and dear to my heart.  So when a Sabbath passage comes up in scripture, I jump on it.  Today's lectionary, Luke 13: 1-17 was a perfect opportunity.  Here is the audio to the sermon.  I hope you enjoy it.

Deferred Maintenance

As you can see, our Sanctuary is getting a "makeover."  Over decades, water has seeped into the walls around our big stained glass window of Jesus, the Good Shepherd, and turned the inside wall into a rotted out piece of junk.  There was a maroon curtain hiding all this horrible mess from us, but other messes are pretty obvious.  You can see watermarks spotted all over the celiing.  The paint is a faded ivory. 

A couple years ago, when we had a fair, we left the sanctuary open for people to see.  Many admired it, because it really is beautiful.  One guy took a look (probably an engineer) and said, "what a mess!" or "you have a lot of work ahead of you" or something like that.

He was absolutely right.  Unfortunately, we have "deferred" maintenance on our church for a long time.  Slowly but surely, things have fades away.  Small problems got larger and larger.  Now we have a great group of Trustees committed to taking care of this stuff.  The projects they have undertaken is staggering in scope, yet absolutely necessary if the church is going to stand.

I have seen it before: it happened in my "home" church in Connecticut.  Day by day, week by week, things decay, fade, rot and it happens so gradually, you don't notice it.  You come in, Sunday after Sunday and you just seem to get use to the watermark here and the crack in the wall there.  I doesn't occur to you to fix it.  Until someone can objectively take a look at it, and see how bad things are.  

This is not too far from life.  We let things decay in our lives, day by day, hour by hour and not even notice it.  We can stray far from God, far from doing the things that nourish our souls, far from taking care of our bodies, minds and souls, until the "deferred maintenance" adds up and we find ourselves either in the hospital, or given orders by our doctors to do something drastic, or else.

Some people see straying away from faith as a dramatic event, full of soul wrenching events.  But, to me, "deferred maintenance" is how we get into trouble: it's a slow, gradual decline, a decay that is hardly noticeable, until one day you wake up, and see the watermarks and cracks in your life.  If we could only have sensible Trustees to take care of our lives, like the ones taking care of our church!

Running the Race

Yesterday I preached one of my favorite passages of scripture: Hebrews chapter 11 and especially 12.  The writer talks about the great cloud of witnesses who have "run the race" of faith before us, and how faith helped them complete the race.  Now they are the "cloud of witnesses" cheering us on. 

I have this scripture on the back side of my runner's id tag.  It means a lot to me not just because of these heavenly witnesses, urging me on, but because, since I started running over 10 years ago, and participated in road races here and then, I have found more comparisons between running and faith than I care to admit.  Here are a few.

1.  Never run beyond your capacity.  I was warned time and time again, in books, running magazines.  When you run a race, don't sprint out in front at the beginning or you will use up all your energy and have nothing left for the end.  So what did I do when I ran my very first road race?  You guessed.  I got such a thrill passing others that I forgot the warning.  Then in the middle they started passing me, and I started cramping up.  I ended the race in a heap of pain and exhaustion.  Great example of the sin of pride.  Pride is such a harmful sin, not just because it exalts you at the expense of others.  It also puts you on a pedestal that you cannot maintain.  There are various reasons why professional athletes take steroids, but I think it all comes down to pride.  And pride has a price: you fall, and the greater the pride, the harder the fall.

2.  Use a heart rate monitor to make sure you are running fast enough.  This is related to #1.  Figure out your "target heart rate" for your age and keep within that target, by using the monitor.  This will make sure that #1 does not happen.  It also makes sure that you don't run too slow.  Many times while I run, my mind starts drifting off to la la land, and I slow down.  Having an objective monitor is one of the greatest helps around.  My monitor also has a calorie burning counter.  Instead of having a goal of running for a certain amount of time, or focusing on how fast I am running, I think about how many calories I want to burn.  That keeps me focused on why I am running: not necessarily to be the greatest runner in town, but to lose weight and stay healthy.

In our spiritual paths, we also need objective monitors who can honestly tell us if we are running too fast or too slow.  We also need people who can give us the encouragement that we need.   This may take the form of a good friend, a prayer partner, another parishioner, a pastor or a spiritual counselor.  They are absolutely invaluable.  They keep us focused.

This also reminds me of what humility is all about.  Humility comes from the root humus, meaning earth.  Humble people are not folks with low self esteem, ready to let everybody else and their needs be more important that they are.  Humble people are "down-to-earth."  They know who they are and what they can do.  They don't try to be more than that or less than that.  They stay within their target range.

3.  Do not think about the other runners in the race.  You are not competing against them, you are competing against yourself.  Your job is to run the best race you can that day.  The last race I did, I was getting back into shape, and was lucky if I could run a 12 minute mile.  The winner came over the line half way through my race.  Indeed, I spent most of the race running alone.  But I didn't mind.  I was doing the best I could for where I was physically.  That's what God expects of us: not to win the race, just do the best we can with what we have.  Grace takes care of the rest.

4.  If you get discouraged, think of all those people not running.  True, there might have been a hundred people finishing ahead of me, but when I got a little depressed about it, I thought, "I'm running 5 miles.  How many people can do that?  How many people do that?"  Quite a few.  The important thing is not that you are doing well in the race, it's that you're actually running it.  Same with faith.  Even when you get discouraged, just think, you are actually on the path.  There are some who don't even know what faith is - many who are living lives with something missing, an emptiness that only God can fill.  In races, as in faith, there are participants, there are onlookers, and there are those who have no idea what is going on.  Being a participant is the best.

5.  Despite being scary, even daunting or terrifying, the hills our your best friends.  The best way to increase your physical fitness is to run up hills.  Start with the smaller ones and work your way to the big ones.  Sometimes tackling the big ones are beyond your physical limits.  Sometimes they are just too intimidating to even try.  But a good road race goes over hills, that's part of the challenge.  The last race I ran went over a very steep hill at the end of Houghs Neck.  I didn't try running up it until a couple weeks before the race.  I was just too frightened.  But the reality of the race was before me, so I knew I had to try.  That hill was not only do-able, but not as bad as I thought.  Now it's part of my regular running course.  If anything is going to make me a better runner, it's that hill. 

The same thing applies to the hills that are too scary to run over in our faith life.  There comes a time when we have to give it a try.  Then hill eventually transforms from our scariest monster to our best friend.

6.  A little of something is better than a lot of nothing.  I tend to like to do things big.  I'd rather take one big trip carrying everything than two trips carrying less.  That often defeats me when I run.  If I see that I don't have a full our to run, I often give up the idea of running and do something else.  This leads to getting out of my routine, losing the good habit of running, and eventually I'm doing nothing.  I keep having to remind myself that a half hour of running is just fine.  I might not be exercising as many calories away, but I am moving forward, which is the important thing. 

Same thing with our spiritual life.  Praying for 5 minutes sounds pretty small and inconsequential, but it is something, and it matters.  A great spiritual writer once said that if your prayer was only "thank you" that would be enough.  Keeping a spiritual discipline every day can seem intimidating, especially when there are expectations in front of you: spend 20 or 30 minutes in prayer, for example.  The important thing is to do somethings.  A little something is better than a lot of nothing.

7.  Pray while you run.  Every time I run through Houghs Neck, I pass the houses of many parishioners.  I pray for each of them as I pass their house.  Then I am reminded of others who don't live close by, so I pray for them.  Then I realize that some of these houses have people who desperately need to have God in their lives, so I pray for them, too.  I also come up with the best sermon ideas while running.  Maybe its the blood rushing through my head, maybe it's the Holy Spirit getting my attention.  Maybe both.  Sometimes I just repeat a short prayer as I go along, a kind of mantra that keeps going to the rhythm of my legs going over and over again.

8.  Getting better at running takes a long time, with a lot of ordinary days where you don't feel particularly inspired or happy.  Behind every great runner is a lot of boring, ordinary time.  Grinding it out, day by day.  Finding the motivation to get through these stretches is one of the greatest challenges for any runner.  But if you want to improve you body, if you want to lose weight, it is a long, slow, ordinary process.

Same with prayer.  There are days where you would want to do anything else.  When you pray, nothing seems to be happening.  Any kind of spiritual presence left a long time ago, and you might wonder why you are moving on.  It all seems so rote, so routine.  But this is the time when you actually do strengthen your spiritual muscles. 

9.  If you miss a week due to something extraordinary that happens, just make sure you get back to your routine the next week.  Sometimes there are injuries that take time to heal.  Sometimes your sick.  Sometimes it's vacation or family comes to visit and your regular schedule is disrupted.  Sometimes I considered these weeks as roadblocks that a devil erects to get me off track.  Sometimes I freak out at the prospect of missing time, that something catastrophic will happen.  I've learned to look at these in more realistic ways.  Life happens.  Just make sure that you get back to it when the normal schedule returns.

10.  There are people cheering you on, all the time, whether you know it or not.  One of the best part about road races are the people that cheer you on.  My sermon from yesterday talks about it.  If you didn't hear it, I'm posting it below.

When It Rains....

I am preparing for the third funeral in two weeks.  This is the tip if the iceburg.  All of the sudden, this has been a season of death.  Death has touched many people in our church, colleagues, friends and beyond.  They say these things comes in threes, but that's wrong - death comes and comes and comes.  To some, it comes as an avalanche, and I am amazed at people's resilience: going to one wake after another, one funeral after another.  My parishioners teach me about endurance during these times. 

One thing that comes clear as I do multiple funerals is how different each one is.  My funeral liturgy seldom changes.  Even eulogies seem to cover the same basic things. Yet each funeral is defined by a particular person who has died, and the particular impact they made on their loved ones. 

Funerals are totally unpredictable.  They are filled with irony.  The families who don't think anyone is coming are overwhelmed by a steady stream of people coming to pay their respects.   The funerals you think will be huge end up being pretty manageable.  The people who are usually strong as a rock melt down with grief, while the emotional members of the family turn into the rock everybody holds on to.

I sometimes feel that the saddest funeral are those without tears.  Somehow, if there is no grief, something is lost.  In many ways, our tears are the best tributes we pay to the departed.  This past week, I have had the privilege of seeing family members offer eulogies, and somehow, the best ones are not the most articulate, but the most honest.  People listen for words, but they feel the tears, the emotions, the grief, and this is what touches them the most. 


I do a lot of praying before funerals.  I pray for the family and people there.  I pray that God will give me the grace to lead the service with grace, honesty and integrity.  I also pray for people coming with an emptiness in their lives.  Not necessarily an emptiness left by the death of the loved one, but something fundamentally missing in their lives.  I have talked a lot about funerals as tributes to the deceased, but underneath it all, a Christian funeral is a celebration of the resurrection of Jesus Christ, and the promises given through him to his faithful followers.  Before the funeral, I pray that this message of Jesus Christ comes and touches someone who really needs to hear this good news.  I pray that it sink down, and send them on a journey that will lead them to a faith community, where their emptiness can be filled with God, where they can know the strength that a faithful relationship with Jesus Christ can bring.  This might be the only time in their lives that they actually hear the Good News that we all need hear.

Through prayer, I have come to realize and know in a clear way that beneath every funeral, surrounding every funeral, enveloping all the grief and sadness that is part of a funeral is the love of God.  It is there, even when the grief is hard and raw and desolate.  I know it, I feel it.  It is available right then, right there.  And it never lets us go, never leaves us, no matter what.