By Fair Means or "Fowl"

Introduction: Enter Elijah

"Like a thunderbolt."

Before we get in over our heads, let’s start off with a little of the historical context of this morning’s reading from the Hebrew scriptures by remembering that, after King Solomon’s death, Israël was divided into two kingdoms: the southern kingdom of Judah with its capital at Jerusalem, and the northern kingdom of Israël whose capital was Samaria. While a man named Asa was ruling over Judah, King Omri of Israël died and his son Ahab took his place on the throne. The northern kings had slowly been mixing the worship of other gods with the worship of the God of Israël, but under Ahab, things went from bad to worse: “Ahab son of Omri did evil in the sight of the Lord more than all who were before him.”  [1]

Enter Elijah, one of the Hebrew Bible’s most important characters. We hear his name for the first time at the very beginning of 1 Kings 17, which opens,

Now Elijah the Tishbite, of Tishbe in Gilead, said to Ahab… —from 1 Kings 17:1

An introduction which one commentary describes this way:

The startling suddenness of Elijah’s leap into the arena, where he appears without preface or explanation, helps the impression of extraordinary force which his whole career makes. He crashes into the midst of Ahab’s court like a thunderbolt. [2]

Free Will Is Overrated

From The New Yorker, 22 June 2009

'The Hope of Better Progress'

Introduction: Too Much & Too Little

Some of the most difficult theology we find in the Bible is in John’s gospel. It’s here that we are most like to learn of the oneness of Father and Son, and it’s here that we hear repeated the most the promise of the Holy Spirit. And so near the end of Jesus’s speeches—when he’s talking to his disciples about God, we call them discourses; when he’s talking to God on behalf of his disciples, we call them intercessions—the disciples begin to realize they’re hearing too much… and too little.

They’re hearing so much they can’t take it all in. But they’re still not getting the answers they think they need, so as difficult as it is to hear what they’re hearing, they feel like they need to hear more. And so Jesus tells them, “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now” [1]—anything more, or anything loftier would be too much for them. He’s not accusing them of weakness or cowardice (though perhaps he had a right to do both); his aim is simply to reassure “them by the hope of better progress, that they may not lose courage.” [2]

That’s sort of what religion is in the first place, after all. We try to understand that which, by its very nature, can’t be understood. The word religion and the word ligament come from the same root, because they both connect. A ligament connects two bones. Religion connects the physical and the spiritual. We’ve made it into a negative term, but it’s really a wonderfully descriptive word [3] that helps us embody our need not only for the spiritual, but also our need to connect with others. After all, a religion can’t really be practiced if you’re the only one who believes what you believe.

Hogwarts, Durmstrang, Beauxbatons... Ilvermorny

North America's wizarding school is called Ilvermorny and is located, apparently, somewhere in the Adirondacks. Or maybe Vermont. Or maybe Québec. Or maybe on an island in the middle of Lake Ontario... somewhere up there (or, if you're Canadian, somewhere down there).

Comfortifcation

I shall ask the Father, and he will give you another Paraclete to be with you for ever. —John 14:16 NJB

Introduction: Our God is a Snuggly God

There’s something that Jesus promised us in Greek that most of us can’t quite understand. He promised us something called the Paraclete—not a word we use every day. In fact, when I typed it, my autocorrect tried to change the word Paraclete to parakeet. And this unfortunate mistake might accidentally send us down the right path, for the bodily form of the Paraclete in the Bible is at least a bird—in this case, a dove. The Paraclete, therefore, is the Holy Spirit.

Before the crucifixion, Jesus told his disciples, “If you love me, you’ll keep my commandments. And I’ll ask the Father, and he’ll send you another Paraclete, to be with you forever.” [1]

In most of our translations of the Bible, the word Paraclete isn’t used, of course. [2] The word that made it into our vernacular comes to us from the version of the Bible authorized by King James. Though I never hear anybody refer to the Holy Spirit as the Paraclete, I do often hear the Holy Spirit called by the King James term, Comforter. And comforter is by definition a very comforting word.

Est-ce que WHAT?

Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven. —Acts 1:11

Introduction: Eau de Baptême

All of us know what it’s like to receive news so stunning that we’ll never forget it. Sometimes, of course, it’s good news. Sometimes it’s bad news. And sometimes it’s simply something that defies reality. I won’t dwell on really horrific news I’ve received that I’ll never forget—and there has been some. But I’ll mention a couple of other bits of news that rocked my world.

One such piece of news was ecclesiastical in nature. I guess I’ve always tended toward the theological. And as a kid, I developed a sort of a baptismal doctrine in my head, and nobody ever said anything to disabuse me of the notion—namely, that all baptismal water was imported from the River Jordan. I don’t know why I thought this. But I did. And I don’t remember exactly how the subject came up, or whether I witnessed the font being filled at my home church. But at some point in my teen years I found out that Protestant baptismal water was simply tap water. Nothing at all extraordinary about it—at least not until it was put to use in a sacrament.

The Bible on Climate Change

How long will the land mourn, and the grass of every field wither? For the wickedness of those who live in it the animals and the birds are swept away, and because people said, 'He is blind to our ways.'

—Jeremiah 12:4

Christ's Presence

An Invitation to the Table

I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb. —Rev. 21:22

Let’s do what we can today to take the mystery out of the Revelation to John. There’s a great deal about it that we don’t understand, and (in my opinion) that we can’t understand. A revelation is a vision that is given to someone, and the word pictures recorded by John to describe his revelation have been something the church has struggled with ever since. There are many things about it that seem to describe what was happening at the very moment the book was being written. Other things are obviously to happen in the future—albeit a future that the early church thought was imminent than we think it is.

Today’s reading from the New Testament belongs to this latter set of events. It’s a description of time after time, of life when God’s Reign has been consummated, after the old earth and the old heaven have passed away, and the new heaven and the new earth taken their place. The language is beautiful and mysterious. And though it seems a little remote, I don’t think it’s as difficult to understand as we assume it is.