Presby-Musings

  This may surprise many folks, but there was a time when there were more than just the four Gospels in the Bible.  In fact, over 50 Gospels circulated in the early centuries of Christianity, and possibly many others, according to most biblical scholars.  This leads us to a critical question:   Why weren't these other Gospels included in the biblical canon?   It all comes down to the early councils of the Church, which decided what got in and what didn't.   Their fundamental decisions about the Gospel accounts hinged chiefly on the theology the Gospels supported, whether or not they were written by an apostle and weren't some kind of "secret" revelation between Jesus and one person.  But when you read some of these other Gospels, you start to realize how much was lost when they were abandoned by the councils of the Church, who almost assuredly had an agenda.  For example, the Gospel of John contains seven "I Am" statements from Jesus, "I Am the Way,

I've been wrestling with the idea of impermanence lately, which is to say I've been contemplating the fleeting nature of life, the universe, and everything.  These thoughts often keep me awake at night, and then I have to eat peanut butter toast and re-watch episodes of "The Office" until my brain shuts off enough to let me fall asleep.  There's no easy way to put your head around the idea that most of life is filled with impermanence, that nothing in our reality seems to last forever, and that even we will one day cease to exist.  In the Buddhist tradition, impermanence is outlined this way: "Everything [in our perception of reality] changes, and nothing lasts forever."  We also might say, "All good things must come to an end," which isn't a very hope-filled platitude if you ask me.   To be fair, I've employed that phrase a few times with my kids when they begged me to stay up late or not leave Chuck-E-Cheese after hours of playing gam

Today is Pentecost Sunday, which marks the end of the season of Easter. Today we will be learning about the unexpected way that God launched the Church of Jesus Christ.   There was an unexpectedness about Jesus in the first place.  You can read about the numerous unexpected moments he shared with his disciples throughout the Gospels.  I can't even begin to tell you all of the times that he had to tell them, "Peace be with you," or "Be not afraid," or "It's me, don't freak out!"  That last one was my paraphrase.   Have you ever heard that old aphorism, "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans?" It does feel like everything goes differently than planned, doesn't it?  There is an unexpectedness to life that can either make you crazy or you can thrive in it.  But either way, nothing prepares us for some of the crazy things that happen in our lives.   Styx was one of my favorite bands when I was a kid.  They had a song entit

Growing up in the fundamentalist Baptist tradition, I learned that there were essentially two kinds of people: those who were "saved" and those who were "lost."  People in the "lost" column were destined for an eternity of laps in a lake of fire.  Those who were saved were destined for an eternity of singing hymns at a neverending worship service.   I wasn't sure which was worse.  The terminology we used back then to describe people who weren't Bible-believing Christians like us is still used today in most mainstream Christianity.  Many Christians still use "lost" to describe people outside their fellowship.   I have a strong, adverse reaction to that term that I have been thinking about lately.  Whenever I hear it, I groan inwardly (and sometimes outwardly) because it pains me to hear Christians say it.   Whether they mean it or not, there's an aspect of "othering" people who might not believe the same things they do that C

In a recent poll conducted by the Barna Group, people were asked how they felt about Jesus and then asked how they felt about Christians who say they follow Jesus .  71% of people polled said they have a favorable view of Jesus and his teachings, with a 40% approval rating from those claiming no faith affiliation.  But when asked about their view on Christianity in our current culture, the favorable rating dropped to 57%, with a 21% rating from those with no faith affiliation driving the overall number down.  In short, most people like Jesus but don't like his followers.   The headline on Barna's article unveiling their research reads like this:  "Openness to Jesus Isn't the Problem--the Church Is." When asked about the main reasons they answered the way they did, people with no faith affiliation revealed that they believed the Church in America is: anti-gay, sexist, too involved in politics, out of touch with reality, hypocritical and judgemental.  I'm sure t

My aunt, my mom's youngest sister, passed away recently after a long and courageous battle with pancreatic cancer.  I was grateful to see her a couple of weeks ago--a visit filled with joy amid the sorrowful reality that she was dying.  We gathered for a meal with as many family members who were able to come, and we laughed, reminisced, and she reveled in it.  One of the most curious and unsettling things about the visit was how much my aunt looked and sounded like my late mother.  The way she talked, laughed, and her mannerisms were so eerily familiar.   I wasn't expecting the flood of emotions that came as I listened to her talk, watched her gestures, and felt all over again the loss of my mom and the realization that I would probably never see my aunt again in this life.  I also felt tremendous regret that I hadn't visited my aunt and talked to her more regularly over the past several years since my mom passed.  I realized that one of the many reasons I hadn't was be

This morning, I spilled ground coffee all over the floor as I sleepily tried to put the container back into the cupboard.  It slipped out of my hands and went flying, spewing coffee everywhere.   Even though I get up early every morning, I'm not a morning person. So those kinds of accidents in the wee hours can feel tragic.   Immediately, my mind went to a dark place, and I asked myself, "Why do I always  do things like this?" and "What is wrong with me?"   I also gave voice to some of those thoughts as my wife was helping me to clean up the mess.  "It's only Folgers," she said to me, which was an excellent point, but also one that didn't keep my self-defeating thoughts from racing.   Afterward, I wondered how quickly those thoughts can become words we say and hear.  And then I wondered what harmful effects those words can have on us over time.   It also brought to mind the following quote from Melody Beattie that I'd written down a few day

When I was a kid, growing up in Christian schools where we read and studied the Bible a lot, I was often puzzled by the stories of the Israelites from the Old Testament book of Exodus.  What puzzled me was how often these people, who had been freed from 400 years of generational slavery in Egypt, would complain to their leader Moses repeatedly about how they wanted to go back there.  They would say, "Did you bring us out here into the wilderness to die?  We'd be better off in Egypt. At least we had something to eat there!"  It never made sense to me when I was young.  Why would people who had been set free from servitude want to go back to it?  What would make someone choose slavery over freedom, even if the freedom they achieved proved to have difficulties.   Over time, I've come to understand those stories differently.  I've also lived a bit since then and have my own experiences to call upon as I find meaning in the text.  And I've found some good guides th

Today is Ascension Sunday or, if you prefer, the Seventh Sunday of Easter.   It's the day that we commemorate the moment Jesus departed from his disciples dramatically after hanging around with them for some time, showing up in weird places, and blowing their minds after the Resurrection.  Here's the passage in Acts that describes it:  "They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them.  'Men of Galilee,' they said, 'why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.'"  - Acts 1:10-11 This scripture depicting Jesus' departure from his disciples (what Christians commonly refer to as "The Ascension") is one of those passages in the Bible that makes you wonder:   "What the heck is going on here?"   Is the writer of Acts really suggesting that Jesus drif

As we near the end of the Season of Easter in the historic Church calendar, I thought I would reflect one last time on the implications of Easter Sunday and the Resurrection.  And this time, I want to explore a revolutionary notion.   I am beginning to understand that Jesus' claim of being "the Resurrection and the Life" is also imbued to those who follow him.   In other words, we  have the power of Resurrection and Life within us.   To some folks, this might seem a bit "out there" to take on the very identity of Jesus, but if you think about it, taking on Jesus' identity has always been the calling of Jesus' followers.  That's what being a "disciple" meant when Jesus called the twelve followers who chose to leave everything and learn from him for the three years of his earthly ministry.   A disciple is someone who seeks to do everything that their teacher, rabbi, guru, or leader is doing.  They believe so strongly that they can do this; th

I  knew this pastor who, every time he got up to preach, would pray a simple prayer before he began to speak that went like this:  "God, if these people knew what you know about me, they wouldn't listen to a thing I have to say."  I've never felt the urge to pray that kind of prayer out loud, but I can attest that I've thought those words a time or two.  Humility in my line of work is a good thing, and if I've ever begun to think too highly of myself, I often quickly get brought down to earth in a hurry.   In one of the churches I served, a tiny, older lady would sit on the second row, right in front of the pulpit, when I preached.  She would fall asleep about a quarter through the sermon and wake up when we started singing the closing hymn.   And every Sunday, she would go out the door, shake my hand and tell me, "That was such a nice sermon."  You don't know how often I wanted to smile back at her and say, "You mean that was such a nice na

The human brain is a beautiful creation--filled with mystery, memories, and more information than we can imagine.  If it didn't regulate the amount of sensory input we receive daily, we wouldn't be able to handle it.  And so our experiences get stored away, but there are moments when something brings them rushing to the fore, which can be disorienting.   The other day as I was reading through John Koenig's excellent Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows-- a book filled with words that Koenig created to describe emotions that don't have words to explain--I came across this entry:  heartspur n. an unexpected surge of emotion in response to a seemingly innocuous trigger--the distinctive squeal of a rusty fence, a key change in an old pop song, the hint of certain perfume--which feels all the more intense because you can't quite pin it down. I'm confident that we have all had a moment like Koenig describes.  We hear, smell, or see something that sparks something within us,

  Several months ago, I decided to delete my Twitter account because I was spending way too much time scrolling through it every day and getting angry at all the ridiculousness I found on it.  I also have some philosophical differences with the new owner of Twitter, so there's that, too.   But before my exodus from the platform, I did see an exchange between two people that amused me so much that I noted it for such a time as this.   The first guy posted a tweet in response to an article on a government program for people stuck in the cycle of poverty that essentially said:  "Jesus taught people to fish. He didn't give them handouts."  To which another guy responded:  "Oh yeah, I  forgot the story where Jesus taught 5,000 people to fish so they could feed themselves." I had to laugh at that whole thing for a couple of reasons.  The first guy obviously needed to read the New Testament more carefully.   Jesus never taught anyone to fish.  He wasn't a fishe

IT’S STILL THE SEASON OF EASTER—CHRIST IS RISEN! Over the past few weeks, we have asked: What does living as Resurrection People mean? How does the Resurrection of Jesus transform our lives and the world?  This study of the lectionary Psalms for the Season of Easter answers the questions and more.  We have been connecting these “Resurrection Songs” that we find in the Hebrew Scriptures with songs in our own lives that help us live into the hope we have in Christ in a world that needs a word of hope and a whole lot of grace, peace, and love.  These Resurrection songs remind us of the power of songs in our own lives—the songs we sing or have been sung to us… reminding us who we are.  Today we will be exploring Psalm 66 and learning about the power of the Resurrection to give us another chance to sing--even when we feel like we have no songs left in us.  So what are the best songs about second chances?  In your opinion.  Let's make a playlist.  I'm going to write these down.   One

I have this friend who has two tattoos of Latin phrases, one on his chest and the other on his back.  They're pretty significant, so you can't miss them when he's at the beach.   I'm into tattoos, which probably puts off a few people, but for some of us, they help to tell the story of our lives in a very public way.   The phrases on my friend are similar but express two different existential and philosophical ideas.  One is " Memento Mori ," and the other is " Memento Vivere ."   Memento Mori is a phrase that most people might be familiar with.  Essentially, it means: "Remember that you must die."   In Meditations , Roman emperor and Stoic philosopher Marcus Aurelius writes, “You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think.” The Stoics took that philosophy to the extreme, determining that the only proper way to live was to constantly contemplate death and become preoccupied with it.  In their minds, that wa

There's this verse in the book of Revelation that preachers in my youth repeatedly quoted when they were offering an invitation to people to leave their seats after the sermon, walk down the aisle, and "get saved."  Revelation 3:20 "Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in and eat with you, and you with me." Then we'd all stand and sing multiple stanzas of hymns like "Just As I Am" or "I Surrender All," sometimes for 10-15 minutes until enough people came forward to satisfy the moment.  Truthfully, I took that invitation more than a few times when I was young.  I was always worried that whatever prayer I'd prayed the last time didn't take.  I figured it was better to be safe than sorry.  For years, I missed the entire point of that verse because of how I'd seen it misused to manipulate people.  But I've come to understand that even though the theology behind those