The Radiant Life
Stories
Object:
Contents
What's Up This Week
"The Radiant Life" by Frank Ramirez
"The Lord's Stormy Worship" by David O. Bales
"Love in Action" by Rolf Morck
What's Up This Week
One life -- sometimes it seems as if a single, solitary life may only have a fleeting effect on the world. Who will remember us when we are gone? In this edition of StoryShare, Frank Ramirez reminds us that one life can make a tremendous difference -- even if it fades into relative obscurity. In the pages of a cast-off book, he finds the fascinating details of a woman who in a short, radiant lifetime of just three decades clearly heard God's call to ministry… and who, like Isaiah, enthusiastically responded. David Bales paints a vivid portrait of a storm approaching the temple in Jerusalem while the priests lead the people in worship, and Rolf Morck details the story of God's love for his people -- a love that was made flesh and bridged our separation from God.
* * * * * * * * *
The Radiant Life
Frank Ramirez
Isaiah 6:1-8
Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" And I said, "Here am I; send me!"
-- Isaiah 6:8
I'm a sucker for old books, and I'm glad I'm not the only one. It can be lonely believing you're the only one who appreciates a particular vice.
Old books are like snapshots. Everyone assumes that their era is in some way the apex, the culmination, the ancient, and the ultimate. Time moves on. There we are, staring out of our yearbook pages, and it's not a pretty sight. Old books preserve the past mercilessly.
My friend down the road, Farmer Bob, is a sucker for a deal, and most times he's got a sharp eye for a bargain. But the other day he bit off more than he could chew; so he left behind a little for me to munch on as well.
Basically, he bid on boxes of books at an auction, not realizing that the reason books go for so little is that they aren't worth much. Unlike fine wine and antiques, they don't always wear so well.
My son Jacob, 14 years old and twice my size, rode off in Bob's truck to pick up the books, and as a reward (and just because I'm a good sport) he left behind two boxes of books for my pleasure.
Some of the books can't be beat: Financial Strategies for the '80s; volume one of an old travel guide, reflecting the world before the fall of the Berlin Wall; The Hangup Handbook from Cosmopolitan, designed to help young women get with "it," whatever "it" is; a cautionary book about the future of brain control.
Most of the books are good for a laugh, and even worth saving to use as gag gifts. But one book I pulled out of the stack proved memorable. I thought I'd get a nice chuckle at its naivete, but the joke was on me. I couldn't put the book down -- it was well-written; it was about an interesting subject; I cared.
The book was about a radiant life. That's what it said on the cover: The Radiant Life of Vera B. Blinn. Radiant. The chapters are prefaced by inspirational poems, sometimes florid and overwrought, short on images and long on tired rhymes. And the author is identified as Mrs. J. Hal Smith. Who knows what her real name was?
It is a little volume with faded purple cloth over cardboard covers. A blank page on the inside proclaims it is the property of Ruth Swank. There are 27 names written in Ruth's neat handwriting. "Please read," she wrote inside. "Put X after your name and pass on to someone else." Ruth thought it was that important. So did her friends. Each of those 27 names had an X next to it. They all read the book.
It was published in 1921, a scant year after Vera Blinn's death following a brief 30 years of life. During those 30 years she failed to achieve her goal. But her life shines brightly on these aging pages.
1890-1920. A young woman called to the ministry who never considered herself a minister. Working her way through college, working at the denominational level of the United Brethren (before they merged with the Methodists), high school and college teacher, magazine editor, and founder of missionary societies. Her speeches could shake down some serious money from a crowd to support missions. She was on fire. People couldn't resist her.
The biography constantly alludes to her sharp sense of humor, her bright attitude, as well as to a darker side -- unnamed sins and imperfections that make the portrayal believable.
She dreamed of going to the mission fields. That was the great goal of her life. Like Isaiah in this scripture passage, Vera Blinn clearly heard God's call to ministry. And just as clearly she replied, "Here I am. Send me."
It never happened. She contracted diabetes and died unexpectedly before she could accomplish all her goals. So was her life a failure? I don't think so. Her hard work inspired others to take God's word to the four corners of the world. Her own willingness to go clearly pleased God. More clearly, she accomplished a greater goal. These are the words from her notebook printed at the head of the chapter titled "Her Crowning":
Think of
Stepping on shore and finding it heaven!
Of taking hold of a hand and finding it God's hand;
Of breathing a new air and finding it Celestial air;
Of feeling invigorated and finding it immortality;
Of passing from storm and tempest to an unknown calm;
Of waking up and finding it home!
So much for the superior attitude. And the book made me think.
There are many stars that don't fit into the constellations when we look out at the night sky, many stars whose names don't immediately come to mind. Go out to the country, get away from the city light, and those faint stars fill the heavens and turn the night into day.
Most of the star shadows are too faint to be seen, unless you're looking. Most of the tombstones are too faded to be read, unless you bend over. Time passes, and lives are swallowed whole and the memories of the memories grow dim.
As the past fades it is swallowed in the great noise of the static, all the talking, all the crying, all the breathing, all the living, all the shifting of weight, all the lifting, and all the toting. The great mass of information makes everything knowable and nothing knowable. There's simply too much, too many people, too many events.
So every light that shines in the darkness, every noise that pierces the static, every pressed memory that slips from between the pages is a reminder that there is a great dance, a marvelous hand holding, a walking forward and a walking back again, that we all have our part for a moment or a day, and all the others, all the radiant lives, all the memorable and forgotten people, have their part too.
Vera B. Blinn is part of that cloud of witnesses spoken about in scripture. She heard God's call: "Whom shall I send?" How many of us are as ready as her to answer, no matter what the cost, "Here I am. Send me!"
Frank Ramirez is a native of Southern California and has served as a pastor for nearly thirty years in Church of the Brethren congregations in Los Angeles, California; Elkhart, Indiana; and Everett, Pennsylvania. A graduate of LaVerne College and Bethany Theological Seminary, Ramirez is the author of numerous books, articles, and short stories. His CSS titles include Partners in Healing, He Took a Towel, The Bee Attitudes, and three volumes of Lectionary Worship Aids.
The Lord's Stormy Worship
by David O. Bales
Psalm 29
Jerusalem and its temple are the center of the world for the faithful in ancient Judah. From this temple, established on Jerusalem's tiny hill, the priests and worshipers now look up toward the western sky. As they stand in the courts, they hear it coming. They've seen it before, and they know where it started. The storm began over the sea with a blueblack cloud. The storm approaches during their worship. It moves from the shore inland like an army invading from the sky: First the thumps of thunder like large drums from over the mountains, then clouds creep noisily closer and distant lightning begins to flash beneath the clouds.
For the priests and worshipers in the temple it's natural when a storm approaches during worship to turn their attention to the skies and shout to the angels. The worship leader addresses the Lord's attendants in heaven and presumes to join both human and heavenly praise to the Lord, as if saying to the thunder: "Go ahead and sing, you heavenly beings!" And the heavenly choir, as if answering with a crash, thunders as a chorus for the temple's songs of praise. The worship leader looks up and speaks into the storm:
Ascribe to the Lord, O heavenly beings,
ascribe to the Lord glory and strength.
Ascribe to the Lord the glory of his name;
worship the Lord in holy splendor.
While the late afternoon sacrifice continues, the storm's center finally reaches Zion's hill and rain gushes now onto Jerusalem as though someone is emptying a pitcher over the city. Lightning breaks the sky into pieces. Thunder explodes like a hundred volcanoes. Although the voice of the Lord can be a gentle prod to the conscience, these worshipers also know that the Lord's voice can echo in nature's wonders. Therefore, because the Lord is being so insistent through nature, the Lord's work in nature is acknowledged in worship. The worship leader continues to include the storm into the worship service.
The voice of the Lord is over the waters;
the God of glory thunders,
the Lord, over mighty waters.
The voice of the Lord is powerful;
the voice of the Lord is full of majesty.
A flash of lightning brightens the temple like the blink of a dozen suns. A rolling crash of thunder feels like an earthquake. Such disruptions in the world can be terrifying, but in worship -- no matter how wet they become -- the Lord's people are stirred by it to ever deeper awe and devotion to Israel's God. While the wind shrieks and trees are flattened and dry streambeds fill instantly, worship in the temple turns completely to the Lord's deeds in the storm. They praise their God:
The voice of the Lord breaks the cedars;
the Lord breaks the cedars of Lebanon.
He makes Lebanon skip like a calf,
and Sirion like a young wild ox.
The voice of the Lord flashes forth flames of fire.
Here in the temple during this storm, the Lord's people realize that worship and nature aren't separated. Nothing divides heaven and earth. Worship summarizes, symbolizes, and celebrates all that transpires as the storm sweeps out of the west. Then, as early evening worship proceeds, the storm finally passes Jerusalem, moving east. The worship leader announces the storm's direction:
The voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness;
the Lord shakes the wilderness of Kadesh.
No one needs to inform the worshipers that God is involved in all of life. The leader proclaims:
The voice of the Lord causes the oaks to whirl,
and strips the forest bare;
Within the temple comes the response:
and in his temple all say, "Glory!"
When the physical world seems dangerous, Israel recalls that their God ultimately prevents disorder in nature and keeps even the seas within their bounds. A destructive storm is frightening; but those who place their trust in the Lord acknowledge even in peril that the Lord rules in dominion over chaos. Again the worshipers declare their faith:
The Lord sits enthroned over the flood;
the Lord sits enthroned as king forever.
The storm finally departs and rain eases to a sprinkle, then only a mist. Lightning flashes are no longer seen. Thunder in the east becomes a weak rumble. The worshipers have experienced God's power. They've been swept up in heaven and earth's joining to worship the Lord. Now they pause in a silence made doubly still in the storm's wake. They believe this peace is also from the Lord. The worship leader raises his arms and voice in blessing:
May the Lord give strength to his people!
And all respond:
May the Lord bless his people with peace!
We, having shared their worship and partaken in their awe of the Lord, now concur joyfully with their faith. Repeat after me:
May the Lord give strength to his people!
May the Lord give strength to his people!
May the Lord bless his people with peace!
May the Lord bless his people with peace!
David O. Bales was a Presbyterian minister for 33 years. Recently retired as the pastor of Bethany Presbyterian Church in Ontario, Oregon, he is also a freelance writer and editor for Stephen Ministries and Tebunah Ministries. His sermons and articles have appeared in Lectionary Homiletics, Preaching Great Texts, and Interpretation, and he is the author of the CSS titles Scenes of Glory: Subplots of God's Long Story and Gospel Subplots: Story Sermons of God's Grace.
Love in Action
by Rolf Morck
John 3:1-17
"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life."
-- John 3:16
Long ago, in the time before time, God was alone. It was not the nature of God to be alone, so God began to think. As God thought, his thoughts became love and began to race across the void. His thoughts exploded across the emptiness and began to take the form of stars, galaxies, planets, suns and moons, and solar systems. God thought even more, and his thoughts became deeper and closer to his heart, and there came the earth and living things. And God loved it.
But God still felt alone. Suddenly God had a brilliant thought greater than all his other thoughts. Thus, in a great burst of love, God created human beings, male and female. God created them so that they could love him. It seemed so simple, so perfect. When God saw what he had done, a tear of joy came to his eye. God was no longer alone.
So perfect was God's creation, it was a shade of himself. He created people to be like him, so that they would think and create acts of love and caring. God let them do that, and he stood back to watch. God was proud of what he had thought.
But there was a cost to be paid if love was to be perfect. And one day it happened. Although they did not say it in so many words, the humans God created and loved made it clear that they didn't love and need God anymore. God was concerned but not terribly alarmed. God watched as his people tried to be like him. They really thought that they could be god themselves. God was no longer happy and began to feel alone.
God watched as the people thought and acted like him. Sometimes the thoughts would create love and caring, but more often than not, the thoughts would create the opposite -- greed, hatred, envy, jealousy, gluttony, and waste. God watched as humanity's thoughts created not love but war, pollution, injustice, and a lot of death.
As God watched, he felt pain and loneliness. At times, God would become very angry because his creation would not love him. God became frustrated that something so simple and perfect had become such a mess. God felt alone, but it was not the nature of God to be alone, so God began to think.
God thought, if only he were human, he could sit down and talk to his people. If only he could meet them face-to-face, they would understand and their thoughts would again create love, peace, and harmony, which were the very heart of God. But, God thought, I must go all the way. I must be one of them; be born, feel like they feel, join them in their pain, and show them a better way.
So God thought, and his thought became love, and he was born a human being. God was God, but also human. It was confusing, but if love was to be perfect, a price must be paid. There was much of his creation that was very good. Many times, God did not feel alone. He had friends who loved him, who traveled with him and listened to him. But some were offended by him. Some were shocked. Some were amazed, and some were angry. "You can't be God," they said. "Only God can do the things you do, like forgiving sins and freeing people to love and care." The idea was too dangerous, so they decided that it would be best if God died. God experienced pain and rejection and death. God was alone. But it was not God's nature to be alone, so God began to think, and his thoughts turned to love. His love swallowed up the death that surrounded him, and God, who was life itself, began to live.
There was no longer anything that could separate God from his people. A bridge of love now linked them. Those who saw God as a human being after he became alive loved him. God no longer felt alone. And to make sure no one would forget that God was God, he gave a bit of himself to each one who loved him. Every time the story of God and his love was shared among them, that piece of God would grow. As it grew, people began to think like God. As they thought, their thoughts turned to love and caring.
Therefore God looked down at his creation and rejoiced that many loved him. His thoughts turned to love, and that love, his Spirit, rested upon his people. Wherever his people went, with God's Spirit upon them, their thoughts would turn to love and caring.
So as people shared their love for God, the Spirit brought the very precious essence of God himself. The people began to call that essence faith. As faith grew, more people said, "I believe in God" and "I love God," and their thoughts became loving and caring. As these people told the story of God's love to others who didn't understand, the Spirit brought them faith, God's love in action. And God smiled and was happy, because God was not alone.
Rolf Morck is the pastor of Central Lutheran Church (ELCA) in Mondovi, Wisconsin.
**************
StoryShare, June 7, 2009, issue.
Copyright 2009 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
What's Up This Week
"The Radiant Life" by Frank Ramirez
"The Lord's Stormy Worship" by David O. Bales
"Love in Action" by Rolf Morck
What's Up This Week
One life -- sometimes it seems as if a single, solitary life may only have a fleeting effect on the world. Who will remember us when we are gone? In this edition of StoryShare, Frank Ramirez reminds us that one life can make a tremendous difference -- even if it fades into relative obscurity. In the pages of a cast-off book, he finds the fascinating details of a woman who in a short, radiant lifetime of just three decades clearly heard God's call to ministry… and who, like Isaiah, enthusiastically responded. David Bales paints a vivid portrait of a storm approaching the temple in Jerusalem while the priests lead the people in worship, and Rolf Morck details the story of God's love for his people -- a love that was made flesh and bridged our separation from God.
* * * * * * * * *
The Radiant Life
Frank Ramirez
Isaiah 6:1-8
Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" And I said, "Here am I; send me!"
-- Isaiah 6:8
I'm a sucker for old books, and I'm glad I'm not the only one. It can be lonely believing you're the only one who appreciates a particular vice.
Old books are like snapshots. Everyone assumes that their era is in some way the apex, the culmination, the ancient, and the ultimate. Time moves on. There we are, staring out of our yearbook pages, and it's not a pretty sight. Old books preserve the past mercilessly.
My friend down the road, Farmer Bob, is a sucker for a deal, and most times he's got a sharp eye for a bargain. But the other day he bit off more than he could chew; so he left behind a little for me to munch on as well.
Basically, he bid on boxes of books at an auction, not realizing that the reason books go for so little is that they aren't worth much. Unlike fine wine and antiques, they don't always wear so well.
My son Jacob, 14 years old and twice my size, rode off in Bob's truck to pick up the books, and as a reward (and just because I'm a good sport) he left behind two boxes of books for my pleasure.
Some of the books can't be beat: Financial Strategies for the '80s; volume one of an old travel guide, reflecting the world before the fall of the Berlin Wall; The Hangup Handbook from Cosmopolitan, designed to help young women get with "it," whatever "it" is; a cautionary book about the future of brain control.
Most of the books are good for a laugh, and even worth saving to use as gag gifts. But one book I pulled out of the stack proved memorable. I thought I'd get a nice chuckle at its naivete, but the joke was on me. I couldn't put the book down -- it was well-written; it was about an interesting subject; I cared.
The book was about a radiant life. That's what it said on the cover: The Radiant Life of Vera B. Blinn. Radiant. The chapters are prefaced by inspirational poems, sometimes florid and overwrought, short on images and long on tired rhymes. And the author is identified as Mrs. J. Hal Smith. Who knows what her real name was?
It is a little volume with faded purple cloth over cardboard covers. A blank page on the inside proclaims it is the property of Ruth Swank. There are 27 names written in Ruth's neat handwriting. "Please read," she wrote inside. "Put X after your name and pass on to someone else." Ruth thought it was that important. So did her friends. Each of those 27 names had an X next to it. They all read the book.
It was published in 1921, a scant year after Vera Blinn's death following a brief 30 years of life. During those 30 years she failed to achieve her goal. But her life shines brightly on these aging pages.
1890-1920. A young woman called to the ministry who never considered herself a minister. Working her way through college, working at the denominational level of the United Brethren (before they merged with the Methodists), high school and college teacher, magazine editor, and founder of missionary societies. Her speeches could shake down some serious money from a crowd to support missions. She was on fire. People couldn't resist her.
The biography constantly alludes to her sharp sense of humor, her bright attitude, as well as to a darker side -- unnamed sins and imperfections that make the portrayal believable.
She dreamed of going to the mission fields. That was the great goal of her life. Like Isaiah in this scripture passage, Vera Blinn clearly heard God's call to ministry. And just as clearly she replied, "Here I am. Send me."
It never happened. She contracted diabetes and died unexpectedly before she could accomplish all her goals. So was her life a failure? I don't think so. Her hard work inspired others to take God's word to the four corners of the world. Her own willingness to go clearly pleased God. More clearly, she accomplished a greater goal. These are the words from her notebook printed at the head of the chapter titled "Her Crowning":
Think of
Stepping on shore and finding it heaven!
Of taking hold of a hand and finding it God's hand;
Of breathing a new air and finding it Celestial air;
Of feeling invigorated and finding it immortality;
Of passing from storm and tempest to an unknown calm;
Of waking up and finding it home!
So much for the superior attitude. And the book made me think.
There are many stars that don't fit into the constellations when we look out at the night sky, many stars whose names don't immediately come to mind. Go out to the country, get away from the city light, and those faint stars fill the heavens and turn the night into day.
Most of the star shadows are too faint to be seen, unless you're looking. Most of the tombstones are too faded to be read, unless you bend over. Time passes, and lives are swallowed whole and the memories of the memories grow dim.
As the past fades it is swallowed in the great noise of the static, all the talking, all the crying, all the breathing, all the living, all the shifting of weight, all the lifting, and all the toting. The great mass of information makes everything knowable and nothing knowable. There's simply too much, too many people, too many events.
So every light that shines in the darkness, every noise that pierces the static, every pressed memory that slips from between the pages is a reminder that there is a great dance, a marvelous hand holding, a walking forward and a walking back again, that we all have our part for a moment or a day, and all the others, all the radiant lives, all the memorable and forgotten people, have their part too.
Vera B. Blinn is part of that cloud of witnesses spoken about in scripture. She heard God's call: "Whom shall I send?" How many of us are as ready as her to answer, no matter what the cost, "Here I am. Send me!"
Frank Ramirez is a native of Southern California and has served as a pastor for nearly thirty years in Church of the Brethren congregations in Los Angeles, California; Elkhart, Indiana; and Everett, Pennsylvania. A graduate of LaVerne College and Bethany Theological Seminary, Ramirez is the author of numerous books, articles, and short stories. His CSS titles include Partners in Healing, He Took a Towel, The Bee Attitudes, and three volumes of Lectionary Worship Aids.
The Lord's Stormy Worship
by David O. Bales
Psalm 29
Jerusalem and its temple are the center of the world for the faithful in ancient Judah. From this temple, established on Jerusalem's tiny hill, the priests and worshipers now look up toward the western sky. As they stand in the courts, they hear it coming. They've seen it before, and they know where it started. The storm began over the sea with a blueblack cloud. The storm approaches during their worship. It moves from the shore inland like an army invading from the sky: First the thumps of thunder like large drums from over the mountains, then clouds creep noisily closer and distant lightning begins to flash beneath the clouds.
For the priests and worshipers in the temple it's natural when a storm approaches during worship to turn their attention to the skies and shout to the angels. The worship leader addresses the Lord's attendants in heaven and presumes to join both human and heavenly praise to the Lord, as if saying to the thunder: "Go ahead and sing, you heavenly beings!" And the heavenly choir, as if answering with a crash, thunders as a chorus for the temple's songs of praise. The worship leader looks up and speaks into the storm:
Ascribe to the Lord, O heavenly beings,
ascribe to the Lord glory and strength.
Ascribe to the Lord the glory of his name;
worship the Lord in holy splendor.
While the late afternoon sacrifice continues, the storm's center finally reaches Zion's hill and rain gushes now onto Jerusalem as though someone is emptying a pitcher over the city. Lightning breaks the sky into pieces. Thunder explodes like a hundred volcanoes. Although the voice of the Lord can be a gentle prod to the conscience, these worshipers also know that the Lord's voice can echo in nature's wonders. Therefore, because the Lord is being so insistent through nature, the Lord's work in nature is acknowledged in worship. The worship leader continues to include the storm into the worship service.
The voice of the Lord is over the waters;
the God of glory thunders,
the Lord, over mighty waters.
The voice of the Lord is powerful;
the voice of the Lord is full of majesty.
A flash of lightning brightens the temple like the blink of a dozen suns. A rolling crash of thunder feels like an earthquake. Such disruptions in the world can be terrifying, but in worship -- no matter how wet they become -- the Lord's people are stirred by it to ever deeper awe and devotion to Israel's God. While the wind shrieks and trees are flattened and dry streambeds fill instantly, worship in the temple turns completely to the Lord's deeds in the storm. They praise their God:
The voice of the Lord breaks the cedars;
the Lord breaks the cedars of Lebanon.
He makes Lebanon skip like a calf,
and Sirion like a young wild ox.
The voice of the Lord flashes forth flames of fire.
Here in the temple during this storm, the Lord's people realize that worship and nature aren't separated. Nothing divides heaven and earth. Worship summarizes, symbolizes, and celebrates all that transpires as the storm sweeps out of the west. Then, as early evening worship proceeds, the storm finally passes Jerusalem, moving east. The worship leader announces the storm's direction:
The voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness;
the Lord shakes the wilderness of Kadesh.
No one needs to inform the worshipers that God is involved in all of life. The leader proclaims:
The voice of the Lord causes the oaks to whirl,
and strips the forest bare;
Within the temple comes the response:
and in his temple all say, "Glory!"
When the physical world seems dangerous, Israel recalls that their God ultimately prevents disorder in nature and keeps even the seas within their bounds. A destructive storm is frightening; but those who place their trust in the Lord acknowledge even in peril that the Lord rules in dominion over chaos. Again the worshipers declare their faith:
The Lord sits enthroned over the flood;
the Lord sits enthroned as king forever.
The storm finally departs and rain eases to a sprinkle, then only a mist. Lightning flashes are no longer seen. Thunder in the east becomes a weak rumble. The worshipers have experienced God's power. They've been swept up in heaven and earth's joining to worship the Lord. Now they pause in a silence made doubly still in the storm's wake. They believe this peace is also from the Lord. The worship leader raises his arms and voice in blessing:
May the Lord give strength to his people!
And all respond:
May the Lord bless his people with peace!
We, having shared their worship and partaken in their awe of the Lord, now concur joyfully with their faith. Repeat after me:
May the Lord give strength to his people!
May the Lord give strength to his people!
May the Lord bless his people with peace!
May the Lord bless his people with peace!
David O. Bales was a Presbyterian minister for 33 years. Recently retired as the pastor of Bethany Presbyterian Church in Ontario, Oregon, he is also a freelance writer and editor for Stephen Ministries and Tebunah Ministries. His sermons and articles have appeared in Lectionary Homiletics, Preaching Great Texts, and Interpretation, and he is the author of the CSS titles Scenes of Glory: Subplots of God's Long Story and Gospel Subplots: Story Sermons of God's Grace.
Love in Action
by Rolf Morck
John 3:1-17
"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life."
-- John 3:16
Long ago, in the time before time, God was alone. It was not the nature of God to be alone, so God began to think. As God thought, his thoughts became love and began to race across the void. His thoughts exploded across the emptiness and began to take the form of stars, galaxies, planets, suns and moons, and solar systems. God thought even more, and his thoughts became deeper and closer to his heart, and there came the earth and living things. And God loved it.
But God still felt alone. Suddenly God had a brilliant thought greater than all his other thoughts. Thus, in a great burst of love, God created human beings, male and female. God created them so that they could love him. It seemed so simple, so perfect. When God saw what he had done, a tear of joy came to his eye. God was no longer alone.
So perfect was God's creation, it was a shade of himself. He created people to be like him, so that they would think and create acts of love and caring. God let them do that, and he stood back to watch. God was proud of what he had thought.
But there was a cost to be paid if love was to be perfect. And one day it happened. Although they did not say it in so many words, the humans God created and loved made it clear that they didn't love and need God anymore. God was concerned but not terribly alarmed. God watched as his people tried to be like him. They really thought that they could be god themselves. God was no longer happy and began to feel alone.
God watched as the people thought and acted like him. Sometimes the thoughts would create love and caring, but more often than not, the thoughts would create the opposite -- greed, hatred, envy, jealousy, gluttony, and waste. God watched as humanity's thoughts created not love but war, pollution, injustice, and a lot of death.
As God watched, he felt pain and loneliness. At times, God would become very angry because his creation would not love him. God became frustrated that something so simple and perfect had become such a mess. God felt alone, but it was not the nature of God to be alone, so God began to think.
God thought, if only he were human, he could sit down and talk to his people. If only he could meet them face-to-face, they would understand and their thoughts would again create love, peace, and harmony, which were the very heart of God. But, God thought, I must go all the way. I must be one of them; be born, feel like they feel, join them in their pain, and show them a better way.
So God thought, and his thought became love, and he was born a human being. God was God, but also human. It was confusing, but if love was to be perfect, a price must be paid. There was much of his creation that was very good. Many times, God did not feel alone. He had friends who loved him, who traveled with him and listened to him. But some were offended by him. Some were shocked. Some were amazed, and some were angry. "You can't be God," they said. "Only God can do the things you do, like forgiving sins and freeing people to love and care." The idea was too dangerous, so they decided that it would be best if God died. God experienced pain and rejection and death. God was alone. But it was not God's nature to be alone, so God began to think, and his thoughts turned to love. His love swallowed up the death that surrounded him, and God, who was life itself, began to live.
There was no longer anything that could separate God from his people. A bridge of love now linked them. Those who saw God as a human being after he became alive loved him. God no longer felt alone. And to make sure no one would forget that God was God, he gave a bit of himself to each one who loved him. Every time the story of God and his love was shared among them, that piece of God would grow. As it grew, people began to think like God. As they thought, their thoughts turned to love and caring.
Therefore God looked down at his creation and rejoiced that many loved him. His thoughts turned to love, and that love, his Spirit, rested upon his people. Wherever his people went, with God's Spirit upon them, their thoughts would turn to love and caring.
So as people shared their love for God, the Spirit brought the very precious essence of God himself. The people began to call that essence faith. As faith grew, more people said, "I believe in God" and "I love God," and their thoughts became loving and caring. As these people told the story of God's love to others who didn't understand, the Spirit brought them faith, God's love in action. And God smiled and was happy, because God was not alone.
Rolf Morck is the pastor of Central Lutheran Church (ELCA) in Mondovi, Wisconsin.
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StoryShare, June 7, 2009, issue.
Copyright 2009 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
