Resolutions
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"Resolutions" by C. David McKirachan
"Needing a New Light" by Peter Andrew Smith
Resolutions
by C. David McKirachan
Matthew 5:13-20
I have this tradition of making New Year’s resolutions. I put them in writing in my journal. That way I can’t forget them, even if I try. They are usually a mix of things that I want to accomplish, ‘Get in shape,’ and more aspirational, ‘Get close to art.’ I try not to repeat, but the spirit of the law tends to creep in, year to year, reminding me that change is not a simple, let alone an easy, process. But I have noticed over the years a difference, and when I go back to the lists I find that my willingness to be focused and definite in my reach has helped me, if incrementally, to make changes. Surely not across the board, but at least has offered options to the excuses and justifications that keep me in my ruts. As the old saying offers, ‘What’s the difference between a rut and a grave? Depth.’
Such was the hope, the high resolution offered and established in the covenantal law. It offered an alternative to the aircraft carrier of normality (would you believe really big fishing boat?), hard to turn and harder still to stop. It established a new normality. It established a new community that because of its behavior, lifted new boundaries for human potential and interaction. My father called the Ten Commandments ‘God’s green lights.’
Behavior doesn’t necessarily indicate motivation. AA calls this the dry drunk syndrome. You stop drinking, but you still treat yourself and others as a drunk would. I’ve known many people who ‘kept the law,’ but were blind to the gift of life in themselves and others.
If we are to be salt and light, we’ve got to do better than keeping some set of rules. That’s easy to say and preach. On the other hand, I’m not that good at being. Doing, I can wrap myself around. And if I keep doing better stuff, I tend to spend more time closer to being a better person. It’s kind of bass ackwards, but I don’t seem to be the only one with this problem.
It raises the perpetual theological issue of works righteousness. Are we justified by works or faith? I was informed as a child that doing good stuff wouldn’t get me closer to God. But if I cared about God, then I would want to do good stuff. This confused me then and Augustine made it more difficult, “Love God and do what you please.” But it became clear to me that people who were big on being righteous were usually less likely to get along with me. I made messes that they didn’t approve of. And the better I got to know Jesus, the more he seemed to have the same problem with the same kind of people.
But here is this passage about jots and tittles. Was Matthew editing his master’s words because he had a hard time with the Lord’s situation ethics, or was the writer being honest, allowing Jesus’ teachings to be as challenging as the Beatitudes were, calling all of us to stand at this tectonic grinding place of spirit and flesh?
A long time ago I opted for the latter and ran head on into a few of my professors’ desires to demythologize these teachings. I wasn’t afraid to let Jesus soar beyond a law-bound Gospel, I was unwilling to limit him and his teaching to be limited by our unwillingness to allow the answer to this paradox, “Is it works or faith?” to be a resounding YES!
Now I know this isn’t American. We like black and white, off and on, right or wrong, good or bad. But Jesus wasn’t an American. He was a Palestinian Jew and was trained in the discipline of discourse, argument that sought wisdom through dialogue between people using the scriptures as a jumping off place and a destination. And he had and maintained an intimate relationship with his father in heaven and those around Him. That’s only confusing if you’re looking for a binary perspective. His paradoxical perspective has given us his teachings and offers us new options at forks in the road on which we journey. Yogi told us, ‘When you come to a fork, take it.’ (Berra, not Bear). Jesus agrees with him. And tells us to do it with a confidence founded on this ongoing paradoxical relationship with a living God who has given us all kinds of gifts, personal and scriptural, and now himself to demonstrate not only our value as we choose, but which choice to make. And further, that no matter what choice we may make, He is with us.
So be bold enough to make your resolutions or not. But don’t forget to be salt and light. How? That my friends is an ongoing drama.
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. Two of his books, I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder, have been published by Westminster John Knox Press. McKirachan was raised in a pastor's home and he is the brother of a pastor, and he has discovered his name indicates that he has druid roots. Storytelling seems to be a congenital disorder. He lives with his 21-year-old son Ben and his dog Sam.
* * *
Needing a New Light
by Peter Andrew Smith
Isaiah 58:1-9a (9b-12)
Henry fidgeted as he waited just inside the doors of the church for people to arrive. ““Have you seen that new family that were here last week? Do you remember their names?”
Joyce passed him some service bulletins to hand out. “I nodded to them when they came in but never had a chance to speak to them. They seemed like a nice young family.”
“I didn’t like the way their baby fussed in church. I prefer a quiet worship environment.”
Joyce shrugged. “I know but what are you going to do. Maybe they’re running late.”
The door opened and Kevin shook the snow off of himself as he came inside. “Who’s running late?”
“The new couple with the baby who were here last Sunday.” Henry offered him a service bulletin. “Did you talk to them?”
“Not me. I was busy seeing how Dawn was doing. She had a bad fall last week, you know.”
“No, I hadn’t heard that.” Joyce frowned. “How is the dear woman doing?”
“Not bad. Albert looks a bit frazzled but he will soldier through. He always does.”
Joyce nodded. “I don’t know where that man finds the strength to care for her and still make it here on Sunday.”
“Who makes it here on Sunday?” Martha asked as she came through the door.
“Albert,” Kevin said.
“Ah, he’s a lovely man.” Martha turned to Joyce. “Did you know that Dawn had another fall last week?”
“Kevin was just telling us. What a hard time those two are having.”
Everyone at the door nodded their agreement.
Martha looked toward the sanctuary. “Is that noisy child back again?”
“We haven’t seen them yet,” Henry said. “Did you catch their names?”
“I think it was Martin and Helga or something like that. I spoke to them but honestly didn’t pay much attention to what they were saying.” Martha shook the snow off her coat. “I saw Tina and wanted to say hello.”
“How is Tina doing in her new job?” Henry asked.
“She seems to be liking it. I think she has to work some weekends though so we won’t see her as much on Sunday mornings.”
“Oh, she’s going to be missed in the choir that’s for sure.” Joyce looked at the empty loft in the front. “I remember when we actually had a full choir.”
“People don’t go to church anymore.” Henry sighed. “I think it’s a problem in society in general.”
“The parking lot at First Church seems full every time we go past,” Martha said.
“I wonder why.” Henry rubbed his chin. “What do they have that we don’t?”
A man and woman came through the door and smiled at the assembled group. “This is our first Sunday here, we’re John and Sue Henrickson.”
“Good that you are here.” Henry handed them a service bulletin and pointed toward the pews. “We’ll be starting in a few minutes so you should find a seat.”
The other three were quiet until the new couple disappeared into the sanctuary.
“At least they don’t have a baby with them,” Kevin said. “I thought I was going to go crazy the way that child was moving around in it’s mother’s arms.”
“Yes, they do look like nicer people than that other couple.” Joyce looked at where they had gone. “Oh, no. I think they are going to sit where you always do, Martha.”
Martha’s brow furrowed. “Kevin you should go tell them to move.”
“We could sit a row back. It wouldn’t hurt us.” He gestured at the mostly empty pews. “It’s not like there aren’t any seats.”
“That’s where I like to sit and if they are going to fit in here they need to understand how things work.” Martha sighed. “I suppose on their first day we can let it go. I’ll talk to them after service so they can know for next week.”
Henry opened the door and looked up and down the street. “I don’t see their car so I suppose that couple from next week aren’t coming back. They were driving a bright red mini-van.”
Kevin frowned. “I saw a bright red mini-van parked out in front of First Church. I wonder if that was them.”
“Why would they go there? We’re a friendly church,” Joyce said. “I wish more people would just come through the doors and discover how friendly and welcoming we are.”
Everyone nodded although Martha was still glaring at the new couple who had settled into the seat she preferred.
Peter Andrew Smith is an ordained minister in the United Church of Canada currently serving St. James United Church in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. He is the author of All Things are Ready (CSS) a book of lectionary based communion prayers and a number of stories and articles, which can be found listed at www.peterandrewsmith.com.
*****************************************
StoryShare, February 5, 2017, issue.
Copyright 2017 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., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"Resolutions" by C. David McKirachan
"Needing a New Light" by Peter Andrew Smith
Resolutions
by C. David McKirachan
Matthew 5:13-20
I have this tradition of making New Year’s resolutions. I put them in writing in my journal. That way I can’t forget them, even if I try. They are usually a mix of things that I want to accomplish, ‘Get in shape,’ and more aspirational, ‘Get close to art.’ I try not to repeat, but the spirit of the law tends to creep in, year to year, reminding me that change is not a simple, let alone an easy, process. But I have noticed over the years a difference, and when I go back to the lists I find that my willingness to be focused and definite in my reach has helped me, if incrementally, to make changes. Surely not across the board, but at least has offered options to the excuses and justifications that keep me in my ruts. As the old saying offers, ‘What’s the difference between a rut and a grave? Depth.’
Such was the hope, the high resolution offered and established in the covenantal law. It offered an alternative to the aircraft carrier of normality (would you believe really big fishing boat?), hard to turn and harder still to stop. It established a new normality. It established a new community that because of its behavior, lifted new boundaries for human potential and interaction. My father called the Ten Commandments ‘God’s green lights.’
Behavior doesn’t necessarily indicate motivation. AA calls this the dry drunk syndrome. You stop drinking, but you still treat yourself and others as a drunk would. I’ve known many people who ‘kept the law,’ but were blind to the gift of life in themselves and others.
If we are to be salt and light, we’ve got to do better than keeping some set of rules. That’s easy to say and preach. On the other hand, I’m not that good at being. Doing, I can wrap myself around. And if I keep doing better stuff, I tend to spend more time closer to being a better person. It’s kind of bass ackwards, but I don’t seem to be the only one with this problem.
It raises the perpetual theological issue of works righteousness. Are we justified by works or faith? I was informed as a child that doing good stuff wouldn’t get me closer to God. But if I cared about God, then I would want to do good stuff. This confused me then and Augustine made it more difficult, “Love God and do what you please.” But it became clear to me that people who were big on being righteous were usually less likely to get along with me. I made messes that they didn’t approve of. And the better I got to know Jesus, the more he seemed to have the same problem with the same kind of people.
But here is this passage about jots and tittles. Was Matthew editing his master’s words because he had a hard time with the Lord’s situation ethics, or was the writer being honest, allowing Jesus’ teachings to be as challenging as the Beatitudes were, calling all of us to stand at this tectonic grinding place of spirit and flesh?
A long time ago I opted for the latter and ran head on into a few of my professors’ desires to demythologize these teachings. I wasn’t afraid to let Jesus soar beyond a law-bound Gospel, I was unwilling to limit him and his teaching to be limited by our unwillingness to allow the answer to this paradox, “Is it works or faith?” to be a resounding YES!
Now I know this isn’t American. We like black and white, off and on, right or wrong, good or bad. But Jesus wasn’t an American. He was a Palestinian Jew and was trained in the discipline of discourse, argument that sought wisdom through dialogue between people using the scriptures as a jumping off place and a destination. And he had and maintained an intimate relationship with his father in heaven and those around Him. That’s only confusing if you’re looking for a binary perspective. His paradoxical perspective has given us his teachings and offers us new options at forks in the road on which we journey. Yogi told us, ‘When you come to a fork, take it.’ (Berra, not Bear). Jesus agrees with him. And tells us to do it with a confidence founded on this ongoing paradoxical relationship with a living God who has given us all kinds of gifts, personal and scriptural, and now himself to demonstrate not only our value as we choose, but which choice to make. And further, that no matter what choice we may make, He is with us.
So be bold enough to make your resolutions or not. But don’t forget to be salt and light. How? That my friends is an ongoing drama.
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. Two of his books, I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder, have been published by Westminster John Knox Press. McKirachan was raised in a pastor's home and he is the brother of a pastor, and he has discovered his name indicates that he has druid roots. Storytelling seems to be a congenital disorder. He lives with his 21-year-old son Ben and his dog Sam.
* * *
Needing a New Light
by Peter Andrew Smith
Isaiah 58:1-9a (9b-12)
Henry fidgeted as he waited just inside the doors of the church for people to arrive. ““Have you seen that new family that were here last week? Do you remember their names?”
Joyce passed him some service bulletins to hand out. “I nodded to them when they came in but never had a chance to speak to them. They seemed like a nice young family.”
“I didn’t like the way their baby fussed in church. I prefer a quiet worship environment.”
Joyce shrugged. “I know but what are you going to do. Maybe they’re running late.”
The door opened and Kevin shook the snow off of himself as he came inside. “Who’s running late?”
“The new couple with the baby who were here last Sunday.” Henry offered him a service bulletin. “Did you talk to them?”
“Not me. I was busy seeing how Dawn was doing. She had a bad fall last week, you know.”
“No, I hadn’t heard that.” Joyce frowned. “How is the dear woman doing?”
“Not bad. Albert looks a bit frazzled but he will soldier through. He always does.”
Joyce nodded. “I don’t know where that man finds the strength to care for her and still make it here on Sunday.”
“Who makes it here on Sunday?” Martha asked as she came through the door.
“Albert,” Kevin said.
“Ah, he’s a lovely man.” Martha turned to Joyce. “Did you know that Dawn had another fall last week?”
“Kevin was just telling us. What a hard time those two are having.”
Everyone at the door nodded their agreement.
Martha looked toward the sanctuary. “Is that noisy child back again?”
“We haven’t seen them yet,” Henry said. “Did you catch their names?”
“I think it was Martin and Helga or something like that. I spoke to them but honestly didn’t pay much attention to what they were saying.” Martha shook the snow off her coat. “I saw Tina and wanted to say hello.”
“How is Tina doing in her new job?” Henry asked.
“She seems to be liking it. I think she has to work some weekends though so we won’t see her as much on Sunday mornings.”
“Oh, she’s going to be missed in the choir that’s for sure.” Joyce looked at the empty loft in the front. “I remember when we actually had a full choir.”
“People don’t go to church anymore.” Henry sighed. “I think it’s a problem in society in general.”
“The parking lot at First Church seems full every time we go past,” Martha said.
“I wonder why.” Henry rubbed his chin. “What do they have that we don’t?”
A man and woman came through the door and smiled at the assembled group. “This is our first Sunday here, we’re John and Sue Henrickson.”
“Good that you are here.” Henry handed them a service bulletin and pointed toward the pews. “We’ll be starting in a few minutes so you should find a seat.”
The other three were quiet until the new couple disappeared into the sanctuary.
“At least they don’t have a baby with them,” Kevin said. “I thought I was going to go crazy the way that child was moving around in it’s mother’s arms.”
“Yes, they do look like nicer people than that other couple.” Joyce looked at where they had gone. “Oh, no. I think they are going to sit where you always do, Martha.”
Martha’s brow furrowed. “Kevin you should go tell them to move.”
“We could sit a row back. It wouldn’t hurt us.” He gestured at the mostly empty pews. “It’s not like there aren’t any seats.”
“That’s where I like to sit and if they are going to fit in here they need to understand how things work.” Martha sighed. “I suppose on their first day we can let it go. I’ll talk to them after service so they can know for next week.”
Henry opened the door and looked up and down the street. “I don’t see their car so I suppose that couple from next week aren’t coming back. They were driving a bright red mini-van.”
Kevin frowned. “I saw a bright red mini-van parked out in front of First Church. I wonder if that was them.”
“Why would they go there? We’re a friendly church,” Joyce said. “I wish more people would just come through the doors and discover how friendly and welcoming we are.”
Everyone nodded although Martha was still glaring at the new couple who had settled into the seat she preferred.
Peter Andrew Smith is an ordained minister in the United Church of Canada currently serving St. James United Church in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. He is the author of All Things are Ready (CSS) a book of lectionary based communion prayers and a number of stories and articles, which can be found listed at www.peterandrewsmith.com.
*****************************************
StoryShare, February 5, 2017, issue.
Copyright 2017 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., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
