Epiphany 7 | Ordinary Time 7
Preaching
Lectionary Preaching Workbook
Series VIII, Cycle B
Revised Common
Isaiah 43:18-25
2 Corinthians 1:18-22
Mark 2:1-12
Roman Catholic
Isaiah 43:18-19, 21-22, 24b-25
2 Corinthians 1:18-22
Mark 2:1-12
Episcopal
Isaiah 43:18-25
2 Corinthians 1:18-22
Mark 2:1-12
Theme For The Day
Christ calls our churches to radical openness, especially to those who may be inclined to feel unwelcome.
Old Testament Lesson
Isaiah 43:18-25
A New Thing
"I am about to do a new thing," says the Lord, "now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?" (v. 18b). Isaiah's message to the exiles is truly "a new thing." The people have been used to hearing prophetic messages of condemnation; now Isaiah brings them a positive message of redemption and hope. Once they limited their thinking to the boundaries of their own nation, seeing Yahweh as primarily a God of one people; now they catch the vision of a universal God, who is able to work through Cyrus of Persia just as much as through one of their own rulers. The prophecy of Second Isaiah marks one of those great moments in human religious history when "a new thing" -- spiritually speaking -- becomes a real possibility.
New Testament Lesson
2 Corinthians 1:18-22
God's Promise Is Always A "Yes"
Paul has apparently been accused of fickleness because, for whatever reason, his travel plans changed. Here he defends himself, admitting that, while he did change his mind, he did so because he was acting under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. He is not one of those people who say "Yes" one day and "No" the next; he follows God's way. Unlike human beings, God is not changeable: "... every one of God's promises is a 'Yes' " (v. 20b).
The Gospel
Mark 2:1-12
A Hole In The Roof
In a story whose colorful details have always delighted children, the friends of a paralyzed man cut a hole in the roof of the house where Jesus is staying, and lower him down so he may be healed. (The roof they "dug through" was likely made of rushes, which explains how relatively easy it was to accomplish this feat.) Jesus forgives the man's sins -- a theologically audacious act that raises the hackles of some Pharisees who are present. When they object, Jesus asks which is easier: to forgive sins, or to say, "Stand up and take your mat and walk?" Whereupon he tells the man to do just that, and he does -- to the amazement of all. While this is a healing story, on a deeper level it is about legalism. It is a classic example of the style of Jesus' ministry, that so alienated him from the religious authorities and so endeared him to the common folk. Everything he proclaims in words is also manifested in deeds: and for words bereft of deeds he has little patience.
Preaching Possibilities
A sermon on the Gospel Lesson could begin by declaring that what every church needs is a hole in the roof. Once upon a time, there was a church that had one. This church is said to have been constructed in a far-off part of Central Asia during a time of great privation. A deadly epidemic was stalking the land. So familiar were the Christians of that place with the victims' sufferings, that they built their church with great wide doors and gently sloping ramps, so the sick could easily be carried in.
As the people built their church, they also remembered the story in Mark, about the healing of the paralyzed man. And so, for many years, this particular church left the dome of its sanctuary unfinished, open to the elements -- covered only by a large tarp. For those Christians, the hole in the roof became a sign, a powerful symbol of their calling to be open to the world, and to minister unto it. For whatever reason, outsiders may have needed to get in, this congregation was committed to finding a way.
The older a congregation is, the less likely it will be to keep a hole in the roof. New church developments, for example, aren't particular about such things. There are few traditions in such churches: no matriarchs or patriarchs to let the new pastor know "how we do things here, thank you," no one to stand around and chant the "seven last words" of a dying church -- "We haven't done it that way before."
That openness and flexibility is sometimes difficult for members of established churches to understand. New church developments can sometimes seem like a threat to more established congregations' sense of what the church is all about: "What? No building yet? Without a building, you can't have pews. Without pews, you can't have hymnbook racks. And without hymnbook racks -- why, you've got no way to keep your hymnbooks in order. A church without orderly hymnbooks, I always say, is a terrible thing. What's that you say? You don't even use hymnbooks? You say you use a digital projector? I'm beginning to worry whether you people are even Christian!"
What appears, to members of established churches, to be disregard of tradition -- or even a dangerous flirting with chaos -- is actually a newer church's greatest strength. It is the very absence of tradition, the lack of all those people bodily blocking the doors and windows, that enables new members to get in -- that makes it possible for new churches to post a rate of growth that would be the envy of most established churches.
Churches sometimes have a way -- quite unintentionally -- of excluding certain people. They have a way of looking askance at those who are a little different, or who maybe don't have their lives all together and on display for all the world to see. Churches develop this unfortunate tendency very early in their history -- and unless they work hard to overcome it, they quickly become an exclusive club, serving the needs of their members first, reaching out to the world for which Christ died only as an afterthought.
Once churches become even a little bit "established," they have to fight this tendency to block the doors and windows, to admit only those who are "our kind of people." It's always sad when this happens, because it means the church has lost something of its spiritual vision, and has become bogged down in earthly, institutional realities.
Prayer For The Day
O God who embraces the outcast, who welcomes the prodigal home: we pray for those people who are seated around us in worship. Their heads are bowed, as are ours; their minds are in repose, as are ours; their hearts are attuned, as are ours, to worship you. It is easy to pray for people such as these: our family members, our friends, our neighbors in Christ. Help us to pray for those who are not present with us, whose existence is symbolized by the empty seats. Some of them may feel unwelcome. Some may feel uncared for. Some may feel wounded at the thought that we might fear them. May we who are your body, O Christ, open wide our arms to embrace all your children. Amen.
To Illustrate
(I can tell this one because I am a Presbyterian. Those from other denominations who feel that "the shoe fits" may be able to adapt the denominational affiliation to their own. -- Author)
Once there was a Catholic church, a synagogue, and a Presbyterian church, that occupied three of the four corners of an intersection. A terrible lightning storm came along one day. It happened that all three places of worship were struck, and set afire. The three spiritual leaders happened to be nearby, and arrived at their respective burning buildings at roughly the same time.
The Catholic priest rushed into his sanctuary, and emerged a few moments later with the most precious thing he could think of: the Blessed Sacrament.
The rabbi ran into his synagogue, and came out a moment later, carrying the Torah scroll.
The Presbyterian minister ran into her church, but didn't come out. The minutes ticked by. The fire got worse. Her two colleagues were beginning to wonder if she was all right. They ran around to the back of the building, and there they came upon their friend, the Presbyterian minister, sitting exhausted on the curb -- covered with soot, her head in her hands.
"Are you all right?" they asked.
"Don't worry, I'm fine," she replied. "You simply have no conception of how heavy a photocopy machine is!"
***
The ruined cathedral on the Rock of Cashel, one of Ireland's holiest and most historic sites, contains a narrow window called "the Leper's Squint," that opens up into a tiny chamber that could in years past be reached by a concealed flight of stairs. The room was designed for lepers, who were permitted to climb the stairs into this little chamber, there to look on from a distance at the worship in the great cathedral.
Are there any today who feel they have to stand apart and squint at what is going on inside our churches?
***
In their book, Where Resident Aliens Live, Stanley Hauerwas and William Willimon tell of the old Baptist country preacher who was called to a church in rural Georgia. The church had tried to call a series of other pastors -- better preachers, by reputation -- and had failed.
So they turned to this lay preacher. After they hired him and heard one of his sermons they informed him that the church did not want any newfangled ideas and definitely did not want any "colored" members.
The next Sunday that preacher preached a sermon against this racial attitude, telling them, "If you love Jesus, you've got to love everybody Jesus loves."
A number of the congregation told him they did not like such attitudes. Still, the preacher persisted, saying, "If you love Jesus, you've got to love everybody Jesus loves."
Many people left the congregation in protest. A number of African-American people joined. More people left.
"I preached that congregation down to almost nothing before it started to grow again," said the preacher. "And then it grew and grew into a strong, inclusive congregation."
"Like I said," the preacher explained, "if you love Jesus, you've got to love everybody Jesus loves."
***
There are many reasons for the failure to comprehend Christ's teaching ... but the chief cause which has engendered all these misconceptions is this: that Christ's teaching is considered to be such as can be accepted, or not accepted, without changing one's life.
-- Leo Tolstoy
Isaiah 43:18-25
2 Corinthians 1:18-22
Mark 2:1-12
Roman Catholic
Isaiah 43:18-19, 21-22, 24b-25
2 Corinthians 1:18-22
Mark 2:1-12
Episcopal
Isaiah 43:18-25
2 Corinthians 1:18-22
Mark 2:1-12
Theme For The Day
Christ calls our churches to radical openness, especially to those who may be inclined to feel unwelcome.
Old Testament Lesson
Isaiah 43:18-25
A New Thing
"I am about to do a new thing," says the Lord, "now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?" (v. 18b). Isaiah's message to the exiles is truly "a new thing." The people have been used to hearing prophetic messages of condemnation; now Isaiah brings them a positive message of redemption and hope. Once they limited their thinking to the boundaries of their own nation, seeing Yahweh as primarily a God of one people; now they catch the vision of a universal God, who is able to work through Cyrus of Persia just as much as through one of their own rulers. The prophecy of Second Isaiah marks one of those great moments in human religious history when "a new thing" -- spiritually speaking -- becomes a real possibility.
New Testament Lesson
2 Corinthians 1:18-22
God's Promise Is Always A "Yes"
Paul has apparently been accused of fickleness because, for whatever reason, his travel plans changed. Here he defends himself, admitting that, while he did change his mind, he did so because he was acting under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. He is not one of those people who say "Yes" one day and "No" the next; he follows God's way. Unlike human beings, God is not changeable: "... every one of God's promises is a 'Yes' " (v. 20b).
The Gospel
Mark 2:1-12
A Hole In The Roof
In a story whose colorful details have always delighted children, the friends of a paralyzed man cut a hole in the roof of the house where Jesus is staying, and lower him down so he may be healed. (The roof they "dug through" was likely made of rushes, which explains how relatively easy it was to accomplish this feat.) Jesus forgives the man's sins -- a theologically audacious act that raises the hackles of some Pharisees who are present. When they object, Jesus asks which is easier: to forgive sins, or to say, "Stand up and take your mat and walk?" Whereupon he tells the man to do just that, and he does -- to the amazement of all. While this is a healing story, on a deeper level it is about legalism. It is a classic example of the style of Jesus' ministry, that so alienated him from the religious authorities and so endeared him to the common folk. Everything he proclaims in words is also manifested in deeds: and for words bereft of deeds he has little patience.
Preaching Possibilities
A sermon on the Gospel Lesson could begin by declaring that what every church needs is a hole in the roof. Once upon a time, there was a church that had one. This church is said to have been constructed in a far-off part of Central Asia during a time of great privation. A deadly epidemic was stalking the land. So familiar were the Christians of that place with the victims' sufferings, that they built their church with great wide doors and gently sloping ramps, so the sick could easily be carried in.
As the people built their church, they also remembered the story in Mark, about the healing of the paralyzed man. And so, for many years, this particular church left the dome of its sanctuary unfinished, open to the elements -- covered only by a large tarp. For those Christians, the hole in the roof became a sign, a powerful symbol of their calling to be open to the world, and to minister unto it. For whatever reason, outsiders may have needed to get in, this congregation was committed to finding a way.
The older a congregation is, the less likely it will be to keep a hole in the roof. New church developments, for example, aren't particular about such things. There are few traditions in such churches: no matriarchs or patriarchs to let the new pastor know "how we do things here, thank you," no one to stand around and chant the "seven last words" of a dying church -- "We haven't done it that way before."
That openness and flexibility is sometimes difficult for members of established churches to understand. New church developments can sometimes seem like a threat to more established congregations' sense of what the church is all about: "What? No building yet? Without a building, you can't have pews. Without pews, you can't have hymnbook racks. And without hymnbook racks -- why, you've got no way to keep your hymnbooks in order. A church without orderly hymnbooks, I always say, is a terrible thing. What's that you say? You don't even use hymnbooks? You say you use a digital projector? I'm beginning to worry whether you people are even Christian!"
What appears, to members of established churches, to be disregard of tradition -- or even a dangerous flirting with chaos -- is actually a newer church's greatest strength. It is the very absence of tradition, the lack of all those people bodily blocking the doors and windows, that enables new members to get in -- that makes it possible for new churches to post a rate of growth that would be the envy of most established churches.
Churches sometimes have a way -- quite unintentionally -- of excluding certain people. They have a way of looking askance at those who are a little different, or who maybe don't have their lives all together and on display for all the world to see. Churches develop this unfortunate tendency very early in their history -- and unless they work hard to overcome it, they quickly become an exclusive club, serving the needs of their members first, reaching out to the world for which Christ died only as an afterthought.
Once churches become even a little bit "established," they have to fight this tendency to block the doors and windows, to admit only those who are "our kind of people." It's always sad when this happens, because it means the church has lost something of its spiritual vision, and has become bogged down in earthly, institutional realities.
Prayer For The Day
O God who embraces the outcast, who welcomes the prodigal home: we pray for those people who are seated around us in worship. Their heads are bowed, as are ours; their minds are in repose, as are ours; their hearts are attuned, as are ours, to worship you. It is easy to pray for people such as these: our family members, our friends, our neighbors in Christ. Help us to pray for those who are not present with us, whose existence is symbolized by the empty seats. Some of them may feel unwelcome. Some may feel uncared for. Some may feel wounded at the thought that we might fear them. May we who are your body, O Christ, open wide our arms to embrace all your children. Amen.
To Illustrate
(I can tell this one because I am a Presbyterian. Those from other denominations who feel that "the shoe fits" may be able to adapt the denominational affiliation to their own. -- Author)
Once there was a Catholic church, a synagogue, and a Presbyterian church, that occupied three of the four corners of an intersection. A terrible lightning storm came along one day. It happened that all three places of worship were struck, and set afire. The three spiritual leaders happened to be nearby, and arrived at their respective burning buildings at roughly the same time.
The Catholic priest rushed into his sanctuary, and emerged a few moments later with the most precious thing he could think of: the Blessed Sacrament.
The rabbi ran into his synagogue, and came out a moment later, carrying the Torah scroll.
The Presbyterian minister ran into her church, but didn't come out. The minutes ticked by. The fire got worse. Her two colleagues were beginning to wonder if she was all right. They ran around to the back of the building, and there they came upon their friend, the Presbyterian minister, sitting exhausted on the curb -- covered with soot, her head in her hands.
"Are you all right?" they asked.
"Don't worry, I'm fine," she replied. "You simply have no conception of how heavy a photocopy machine is!"
***
The ruined cathedral on the Rock of Cashel, one of Ireland's holiest and most historic sites, contains a narrow window called "the Leper's Squint," that opens up into a tiny chamber that could in years past be reached by a concealed flight of stairs. The room was designed for lepers, who were permitted to climb the stairs into this little chamber, there to look on from a distance at the worship in the great cathedral.
Are there any today who feel they have to stand apart and squint at what is going on inside our churches?
***
In their book, Where Resident Aliens Live, Stanley Hauerwas and William Willimon tell of the old Baptist country preacher who was called to a church in rural Georgia. The church had tried to call a series of other pastors -- better preachers, by reputation -- and had failed.
So they turned to this lay preacher. After they hired him and heard one of his sermons they informed him that the church did not want any newfangled ideas and definitely did not want any "colored" members.
The next Sunday that preacher preached a sermon against this racial attitude, telling them, "If you love Jesus, you've got to love everybody Jesus loves."
A number of the congregation told him they did not like such attitudes. Still, the preacher persisted, saying, "If you love Jesus, you've got to love everybody Jesus loves."
Many people left the congregation in protest. A number of African-American people joined. More people left.
"I preached that congregation down to almost nothing before it started to grow again," said the preacher. "And then it grew and grew into a strong, inclusive congregation."
"Like I said," the preacher explained, "if you love Jesus, you've got to love everybody Jesus loves."
***
There are many reasons for the failure to comprehend Christ's teaching ... but the chief cause which has engendered all these misconceptions is this: that Christ's teaching is considered to be such as can be accepted, or not accepted, without changing one's life.
-- Leo Tolstoy
