Name Lifting

Acts 4:5-12; John 3:16-21

“Let it be known to all of you, and to all the people of Israel, that this man is standing before you in good health by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth....”

Name dropping is used to inflate one's stature in a conversation by linking oneself to a famous person or situation. This is sometimes done while talking about something completely different. The names are just "dropped" into the conversation. Some attempts are more subtle than others, but the practice is annoying and considered in poor taste. Name dropping can become very hazardous to one's mental and sometimes physical health. Consider what happened to Romeo and Juliet after she suggested they drop their names....

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
......................
What's in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet...¹

In exploring “What's in a name?” this week, I came across the Kabalarian Philosophy. KP claims the dissemination of the wisdom of life “based upon definite laws clearly understandable and applicable, teaching one's relationship to the two basic laws of life—mathematics and language.” When language is used to attach a name to someone this creates the basis of mind, from which all thoughts and experiences flow. By representing the conscious forces combined in your name as a mathematical formula, one's specific mental characteristics, strengths and weaknesses are measurable.

With an understanding of the basic principles of language and mathematics, the characteristics of any name can be calculated to reveal the mind of that person, and an understanding of mind allows one to see the source of one's success or failure. A name that encourages balance with one's inner purpose is an open door to happiness and fulfillment, but a name that encourages discord does just the opposite. A change in name leads to a change in one's mind, and, with a knowledge of KP, that change can be for the best.²

I think I would like to suggest that there is another wisdom-of-life reason the initials of this philosophy are “KP” (Kitchen police).

The true wisdom of life comes to us through the Word of God. After Peter and John perform a miraculous healing of the man born lame, they were teaching the crowds that had gathered at the sight about the Lord and proclaiming that in Jesus there is the resurrection of the dead” (Acts 4:2). Luke tells us that many of those who heard the word believed; and they numbered about 5000 (Acts 4:4).

For their trouble, the High Priests, rulers, elders and scribes had the two men arrested and called them out with the weighty question, “By what power or by what name did you do this?” Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, bluntly answers, “...this man is standing before you in good health by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth....” (v 4:10b).

Though they denied his name, even the chief priests and the scribes could not argue the issue. Verse 4:14 says of the rulers, “When they saw the man who had been cured standing beside Peter and John, the Council had nothing to say in opposition.” Annas, Caiaphas and the others did not believe in Jesus' power, of course, but they could not deny the miracle standing before them, accomplished in the name above all names, Jesus Christ.

What does the name of Jesus Christ mean to you? Is it a name to drop into conversation once in a while, or an expletive to be deleted? It is a name we use in prayer, in sacrament, in reverence and in times of sorrow and of celebration, in praise and thanksgiving. The name of Jesus Christ means to me a savior, a fellow sufferer and co-servant; the name claims me, loves me no matter what. There's just something about that name, it belongs to the one who rescues me from the dominion of darkness, assuring me that I am not alone.

You can get a free name analysis from the Kabalarians by plugging in your first and last names along with your birth date. Free being the operative word, I had my name analyzed. But then, the devil in me filled out another form, in which I placed the first name “Jesus,” and the surname “Christ.” I gave the birth date as December 25, and I tried using the year 0004, but the form came back that I had to use a date from 1900 on. So, I used 2000.

Here's a sample of the free analysis that was mailed to me in a matter of minutes. Your first name reveals your personality—your desires, ideals, goals, ambitions, as well as potential health weaknesses.

Your name of Jesus has some fine qualities. You have a pleasant, diplomatic way with people, and seem to sense how others feel. For this reason, you could do well in public relations work. You appreciate the finer things in life and like to have a good material standard of living. You feel that it is important to convey the impression that you are financially secure, and you place importance on your mode of dress, and on appearances generally.

While you could do well in a position of authority, there is a certain lack of initiative in your makeup, and a tendency to procrastinate, which may prevent you from attaining positions of responsibility. Inability to make important decisions and a degree of passivity prevent you from concentrating or truly applying yourself to your work. You prefer to choose the easiest way to accomplish your goals, and would probably readily admit that you dislike hard work. However, your likeable personality sees you through most situations. Weaknesses in health could affect the kidneys or lower back.

The “surname” Christ carries an equal amount of erroneous analysis, yet in a haunting way:

“Impulsive and intense in nature, they (Christs) are taken into chaotic situations and encounter serious accidents. These people are inclined to trust people and take them at their word, only to find that others let them down. Caustic and uncontrolled speech is another great detrimient to their success and personal happiness, and their very independent natures will not allow them to merge with others.”

KP claims that the combined names “Jesus Christ” create “a desire to be financially independent and have an interest in economics and business affairs. Just when opportunities seems to be coming your way, you are overlooked in favor of someone else. You are taken away from association with people and experience much aloneness. You could experience health problems affecting the heart and lungs.”³ Let's try these names:

Son of God/Son of Man/Son of David/Word and Lamb

Rabbi/Teacher/Head of Church/Name above Names/Righteous Word

King of Kings/Lord of Lords/Life and Death/Means of Grace

Morning Star/Fairest Face/Savior/Servant/Rebel, Truth-- What's His name mean to you?

You could pay the Kabalarian Society $145, and they will help you change your name to one that is more balanced and will bring you success and strength. God's Word tells us, though, that there is but one name that will give us all we need for this life: it is the name Jesus Christ. He paid the ultimate price to give us his name.

In Jesus' day, people witnessed miracles and ate their fill; beneath his cross they wept unto death; they betrayed, confessed, ran away and denied his name. Still--In the name of Jesus, people are healed and raised from the dead. He saves from our sins, grants us mercy and promises salvation. His name is Jesus.

This is the name—the only name—that allows the weak to be strong; the poor to feel rich, the hungry to be fed, and the lame to walk. His name aids the tempted to resist, the hopeless to rise, and the forsaken to rejoice—all, all because of what Christ has done for us.

Do not deny thy Father and refuse thy Son's name, for it is the name of Jesus Christ that holds within it the power to walk, to see, to heal, to serve and to love. His name is not the enemy; it is the Savior. In Christ we are born anew. We have it in writing: “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).

Do the math and claim your name, my friends. Get out of KP Duty. Forget about name dropping; get in the habit of name lifting and see what an amazing-grace difference it makes in your life. I know it has in mine. Amen.

April 29, 2012

First Parish Federated Church of South Berwick, ME

The Reverend Donna Lee Muise, Pastor

1Shakespeare, William. Romeo and Juliet, First Folio.

2Kabalarians.com

3Kabalarian.com/Jesus/Christ

Walking With Moses

John 20:1-18; I Corinthians 15:1-11

“I have seen the Lord!”

Perhaps it seems to you odd that the title of our Easter message today is, “Walking with Moses.” Of course, it was my intent to have you wondering and perhaps even squinting at me a little askance. I would never want to become so predictable that you felt you could skip Easter worship because, after all, it's the same story every year, right? You remember how it goes....

The Resurrection is not a story to be remembered, it is a hope to feel, a life to live, a Savior to follow for the rest of our lives. As our children sang just a few minutes ago, “Alive! Alive! My Jesus is Alive—alive forevermore—sing Hallelujah!”

For Christians, unless we have come to believe in vain (as Paul wrote to the Church in Corinth), there is no better, greater, higher, deeper, wider, more fulfilling, chilling, thrilling, fascinating, exacerbating, confusing, inducing, incredible, indelible, truth-is-stranger than fiction fact that Jesus Christ is risen from the dead! Sing Alleluia!

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary and the other women made their way to the tomb expecting to quietly anoint the Lord's body so that he would be properly buried. Their only concern was about that stone over the tomb's opening. Who would remove it for them? Yet when Mary and the others reached the place, they saw that the stone had been not just rolled away, but that it had been removed altogether.

We all know what it is like to feel your heart pounding in your chest...throbbing in your eardrums... forcing blood through your veins. You can hardly breathe, it seems, and the muscles begin to contract all over your body; you begin to tremble physically and fearfully.

Of course, Mary thought the worst had happened—perhaps that was God's intent—to have her see something that doesn't make sense; she, like we, quickly dropped from a moment of wonder into squinting askance at the oddity, and then still not able to make sense of it, she crumbled, as we often do, right into rapid-fire succession into the emotions of worry, panic, sorrow that cause us, and the women, to tremble, tremble, tremble.

Last Tuesday, I too had such an experience when I took my first “walk with Moses,” and I can tell you all of those emotions and symptoms I just described happened to me within 2 minutes. I'd never gone for a walk alone with Moses, and I was so looking forward to it. My friend Moses is an 11-month-old puppy.

We started out here at the church, turned right at the sidewalk and started up Academy Street. This was going to be a perfect arrangement: Moses would get out of his house while his owner worked, and I would get some much needed exercise.

I think I was as excited as Moses was until... just two houses up from the church, out from the backyard charged a huge Husky, barking and jumping, glaring at us with those white eyes and baring those even whiter teeth. We stopped; well, I stopped. Moses doesn't stop much. My heart was pounding, my leash arm was aching, I could hardly breathe....walking with Moses takes courage, I decided. I began to rethink this perfect arrangement as I remembered that sage advice, if you don't want to run with the big dogs, you might as well stay on the porch. The porch very quickly started looking quite appealing to me in that moment. Fortunately, the porch was the farthest thing from Moses' mind.

As we walked through the neighborhoods of Sewall Road, Parent Street, and Butler, too, I had envisioned a peaceful journey...away from the constant traffic on Main Street. I'd look at the houses and spring flowers as Moses walked along at my side. Then I remembered something—it was like an electric shock through my body. Unlike the women that first Easter morning, who brought their spices to anoint the Lord, I was not prepared to do what I had to do if Moses had to do...you know...do. I could only hope that Moses could wait until he got home.

Mary did not wait around for any explanations for this impossible thing that had happened. She ran all the way back to where the disciples were staying, and she woke Peter and John. “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” Then the three of them ran back to the tomb. They ran after the wrong impossible thing. It was not that the stone and Jesus' body were gone from the tomb; the “impossible” thing was that Jesus had risen from the dead—He was alive! Alive forevermore!

Not too far into the journey, Moses began taking me on this walk, sniffing the bases of telephone poles or “marking” fire hydrants. Somewhere along the way I realized that I was unprepared for the “elimination event.” The worst part was when he ground to a halt and crouched down on his hind legs; the wrong possible thing was happening. I had to laugh, though, at the irony of the biblical Moses who was the great lawgiver, and this Moses (and I) were lawbreakers.

The Resurrection breaks all kinds of laws—physics, biology, and nature's order. Many of us today find it difficult to trust good news because we're used to bad news. And that will never change until we can receive and believe the good-est news of all, that Jesus Christ is risen from the dead; that Christ is alive, alive forevermore. This is news that should not be kept quiet.

We “mosey” along in life with the information that Jesus Christ is alive. Yet what God has designed for us in the resurrection of Jesus Christ is transformation. Shall we stand inside a dark tomb of fatigue and distraction, emptiness in the midst of the rapid-fire pace of 21st-century living? Don't you long for someone to roll away that stone that keeps us locked in the tomb? Don't you want to turn over a new leash in life, not one that fits around your neck but one that is made of God's amazing grace and Christ's abiding love?

Moses wanted off his leash the other day. A woman with two small and white, curly coiffed dogs came around the corner. Moses began to strain against his leash, pulling me forward. The little dogs looked like fluffy white cupcakes to him, I am sure.

Well, the woman with the well-coiffed dogs pulled both leashes up short and squished herself and the two cupcakes between a fence...and a fire hydrant. A brilliant move. Moses thought he'd died and gone to heaven. As I struggled to get Moses away from his prey, she squinted at me askance and weakly apologized. “I know I shouldn't have stopped at a fire hydrant.” As I pulled Moses into the crosswalk , I felt like barking, too. “You're lucky you didn't get … wet.”

Cars were coming to a stop all around us, right there, and I said a prayerful apology to Sarah Orne Jewett. Finally, I had to take Moses by the collar and physically turn him around. I thanked the guy in the Ford Expedition for not running over both of us. I went walking with Moses, and we both came back alive.

Christ indeed is alive with us today because he was willing to die for us on Friday. He lives so that we may also live, and live abundantly. He lives not to protect us from difficult experiences like worry, panic and sorrow; like facing the next scary situation that comes around the corner. He lives to give us strength and courage to get off the porch and run with the big dogs.

He lives, and because he lives we can face all the tomorrows, leashed or unleashed, because we know he holds the future in his hands.

Get walking with Jesus; get talking about Jesus. Christ is risen. There's no other way to tell it. Christ is risen; He is risen, indeed! Amen.

April 8, 2012

The First Parish Federated Church of South Berwick, ME

The Reverend Donna Lee Muise, Pastor

Juggling Greatness

Ephesians 2:4-10

“For we are God's handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

In the early 1980s, one dark and rainy night, Kit Summers was crossing the street on his way to the Atlantic City casino where he performed his world-class juggling show when he was struck, full speed, by a truck. Kit was thrown onto the hood of the truck, broke the windshield with his head, rolled off and tore off the side-view mirror with his body, and was thrown into a crumpled heap 30 feet away.

For 37 days, the juggler lay in a coma. When he awoke, it was quickly apparent that this man would have to learn to do everything all over again—eating, walking, talking, let alone juggling! In his mind, Kit knew how to do these activities, yet the pathways from his brain to his nervous system had to be established all over again. After a year of patience, dedication and discipline, and on the anniversary of his terrible accident, Kit performed his juggling act again before a live audience.

Kit would never again be world-class at juggling--it was physically impossible after the accident, but he found a way to use his talent for a very good work: the entertainment of juggling is now a background he uses to teach young people in schools across our country to set goals, make good choices, don‘t go to school to get good grades, go to school to learn. Summers calls this day-long presentation “Educational Entertainment Excellence.” If you go to his website (www.kit summers.com), you will find among many sayings of his these words of encouragement.

“Things don't get better by chance, they get better by change.”

“Learn from what happens--set-backs, successes, accidents, etc.--

then move on.”

We hear stories like Kit Summers' from time to time on the news, of people overcoming great challenges or heartbreak and use their experiences to motivate, encourage and bring healing to others. If you're anything like me, you might ask yourself questions like, “Would I have the strength, determination, and heart that it takes to overcome the odds?”

Maybe the better question is, “Would I be able to do that--to take a setback, limitation or calamity--and use it to achieve something important for others?

Perhaps the best question of all to ask ourselves is, “Will we trust God, who made us to be what we are, created in Christ Jesus for good works” (2:10)?

Most of us, fortunately, will never suffer such a catastrophic accident and injury like Kit Summers, yet I think one of the teachings from this Ephesians’ passage is that God created each one of us with a job to do, a purpose to accomplish, a ministry to share in and through the relationship we have with Jesus Christ.

Paul's testimony in his letter to the Ephesians reminds us that “We are what [God] has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life” (2:10). [Other texts read, We are the handiwork of God.]

So, how do you feel about yourself today? Do you feel you are the handiwork of God? Do you feel you could change the world or are you satisfied to just get by, make your way through daily life--juggling mediocrity?

We are not created for a life of just getting by, taking care of our own, and turning away from those in need even when we are in need ourselves. Kit Summers used determination, commitment and sacrifice to regain his ability to juggle neon scarves, bowling pins and flaming torches. Then, Christ used Kit to carry out good works with youth across America. That’s when Kit Summers began juggling greatness. He is beautifully woven into the handiwork of God.

Paul’s words say that we are created for greatness--over the course of my ministry the last 17 years, when I am counseling someone who is struggling and about to settle for less--or worse, give up, I have used this promise: “You are created for great things.”

Greatness in God’s eyes is different from what the world sees as greatness. Some of us are called to be world-class parents, some world-class firefighters, some world-class nurses and teachers and grocery store workers. It’s not the actual job/work that encompasses greatness it is what you bring to it, how you put your personal mark of who you are created by God to be that makes all the difference. [Story of “Johnny the Bagger” (www.YouTube.com)]

There are thousands of people who do great things in our world, but the ones who know they are God’s handiwork are the ones who juggle true greatness. We become God’s handiwork when we unclench our death grip on our lives and ask Christ Jesus to live within us, so that we may engage, enact, and encourage others with acts of loving service in Christ’s name. “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God….”

Friends, being the handiwork of God is not for the fainthearted, for folks who are willing to settle for mediocrity. Life does not get better by chance; it gets better is by change, and that change comes when we are willing to give Christ control of our lives.

It is not enough to know in our minds what God wants us to do through Jesus Christ; we have to establish and reestablish daily the pathway between our hearts and our hands, our faith and our Father, our works and our Savior.

Christ did not come into this world so that we can walk around comatose to the deep needs of others around us. Christ did not hang on the cross so that we might have the status of belonging to his church. Christ came to us, spoke to us, prayed for us, and died for us so that we can humbly and lovingly be world-class jugglers of God’s greatness. Thanks be to God. Amen.

March 18, 2012

First Parish Federated Church of South Berwick, ME

The Reverend Donna Lee Muise, Pastor

The Path of Influence

Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16

“I will establish my covenant between me and you, and your offspring after you throughout their generations,

for an everlasting covenant to be God to you and to your offspring after you.”

Some products we use daily might not be here at all if somebody hadn't goofed but then realized the fortuosity of their “mistake” and they started something important to us today. Corn Flakes and Silly Putty, Post-It Notes and the Slinky all were discovered or devised as the result of an accident, oversight.

Of course, we hear often of others who “invent” schemes and products to deceive the unsuspecting—to steal their life savings or sell them inferior products that do not do what they say they can do. These folks start things like Ponzi schemes and cellulite removing creams. Neither of which work except for the one who started them.

Maybe you have heard the story about the man who was refused entry into a fancy dinner club because he wasn't wearing a tie. The doorman sent the man away with instructions to return if, and only if, he had a tie wrapped around his neck. The fellow rummaged through his car, but couldn't find a necktie. However, he did find a pair of jumper cables in the trunk. He decided to fashion a ;necktie from those jumper cables. He returned to the door of the club. The doorman saw those jumper cables around the man's neck and realized that technically they could serve as a tie. So the doorman said, “Well, I guess you can come in.” Then he added, “Just don't start anything.”¹

When God created heaven and earth, God was starting something, started something big, started something that would last through all generations, something that was very, very good. Yet, along the way evil slithered in and spawned its influence over people who were vulnerable, folks who were told they could be like God or even becoming God.

Of course, none of us can become God, but we can strive to be like God. Jesus was God in the flesh and he came to show us the way away from evil and to teach us how to “be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:48).

Jesus is the perfect path of influence to follow if we desire to become like God, to become the people God designed us to be. This is God's plan, God's covenant. This life we have is no accident, no fluke, no mistake, for whatever God makes is good—very, very good. God designed us to be intentional about life. We are not here to profit, to destroy the earth or devastate one another. We are here to lengthen the path of influence which began so long ago, in a desert place, at the feet of nomads, Abraham and Sarah.

The paths we tread are not marred by physical boulders and hills, tree roots and thick, prickly branches, but we do encounter these elements symbolically in the challenges and troubles we face in life as we strive to remain under the influence of our Savior, Jesus. We can be blocked by stones of sin, hills of struggles we think we might never be able to conquer, tripped by the roots of evil that send us falling off the path and into the arms of painful brambles that draw, if not blood, some of our life force.

During Lent we remember the pain and struggle—and the triumphs—of Jesus' journey. If it happened to him it can happen to us, too. How do we stay on the path of his influence? We keep our eyes on him, on the goodness he leads us to, that we may experience God's love and grace, as Jesus experienced it. We train our hearts to listen and our eyes to witness God's promise that echoes through the generations: “I will establish my covenant between me and you, and your offspring after you throughout their generations, for an everlasting covenant to be God to you and to your offspring after you.”

Entrusting self and soul to the Son of the God of the Covenant is a tall order for anyone. Perhaps we can take a cue from Henry Brown.

Mr Brown was a slave in Richmond, VA, in 1856, and he decided to runaway, even though the penalty for doing so was a first-class trip to the gallows. Henry had heard of an abolitionist in Philadelphia, and so he concocted a plan. He found a wooden crate just large enough for him to drawl inside. He postmarked the box to the free territory of Pennsylvania. He got inside the box, sealed himself in, and mailed himself to freedom.

This was not a well thought out plan: it took three weeks for the abolitionist to get the package. We have no idea how Brown managed to survive the trip, but when the man opened the crate, Henry managed to stand up and he said, How do you do, sir. My name is Henry Brown and I was a slave. I heard about you being and abolitionist, so I am entrusting my future to you.”²

God wants us to entrust our futures, in this world and the next, to Jesus Christ. Jesus is God's son and a great son in the line of Abraham's sons down through the generations. It may be difficult to envision the hundreds and hundreds of generations since Abraham and Sarah had Isaac. It's too broad to understand that path of influence, so let's focus it a little closer to our own history in the faith.

Way back in 1858 a Sunday School teacher in Chicago named Ezra Kimball became interested in the spiritual welfare of a young shoe shop clerk in his town. After debating inwardly what to do about it, Kimball took himself to Holton's shoe store. He walked by the store several times before going in the door, finally mustering the courage to approach the young man, who was working in the stock room at the time. Kimball proceeded to talk with this youth about his faith. The shoe clerk Kimball influenced that day was Dwight L Moody, who subsequently became a great evangelist and whose works are still influencing others for the faith today.

Yet, this is not where the path of influence ends. Moody went on to preach a crusade in England and, in 1879, awakened the heart of Frederick B Meyer, a pastor of a small church. Meyer went on to become a renowned theologian. In fact, years later, Meyer was preaching in Moody's school in Northfield, MA, when a young man in the back row heard Meyer say, “If you are not willing to give up everything for Christ, are you willing to be made willing?” Those words transformed the ministry of another man, J Wilbur Chapman. Chapman became a YMCA worker, back when the Y was still a religious institution. The path does not end at the Y.

Chapman recruited a former baseball player to help him in his ministry. After being a popular outfielder in baseball's National League during the 1880s, Billy Sunday became one of the most celebrated and influential American evangelists during the first 20 years of the 20^th century. Later at a revival in Charlotte, NC, Billy Sunday so excited a group of local men that they began an ongonig prayter group. Later they engaged an evangelist named Mordecai Hamm to come to their town to keep the revival spirit alive. In that revival, Mordecai Ham influenced another young man with the gospel so much so that he came to faith on the spot. Perhaps you know him? That man was Billy Graham. And so the path of influence continues, generation to generation.

Ezra Kimball had no idea was chain of influence his obedience to the Lord set in motion. If we widen the historical lens, Abraham and Sarah had no idea what would happen because of their obedience to the Lord. What would they say if they knew that today, you and I would be revisiting their story; that “more than a billion Christians and nearly as many Moslems and Jews would be telling and retelling their story all over the world”?

You and I do not have to be Dwight Moodys, Billy Sundays, or Billy Grahams, yet we should strive with all our heart, mind, soul and strength to be the influences God has created us to be, to influence others to find faith in Jesus Christ, and to join the path of influence that others, too, may take the journey to salvation. The future depends on us. If we fail to influence others, generations after generations may never hear of Jesus, let alone know him, and never mind feasting at his table. Make no mistake: our generation has an important job to do: to influence the next generation. Let us not become the weakest link. Amen.

March 5, 2012/First Parish Federated Church of South Berwick, ME/The Reverend Donna Lee Muise, Pastor

1Duncan, King. “Acting on Faith” Dynamic Preaching, Jan Feb Mar 2012, p 1.

2Gregory, Leland. Stupid History Tales of Stupidity. Kansas City, MO: Andrew McMeel Pub, 2007, p 246

The Sorrow Tree

Mark 1:12-13

He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts;

and the angels waited on him.

Winston Churchill once said, “If you're going through hell, keep going.

Chippie the parakeet never saw it coming. One second he was peacefully perched in his cage. The next he was sucked in, washed up, and blown over.

The problems began when Chippie's owner decided to clean Chippie's cage with a vacuum cleaner. She removed the attachment from the end of the hose and stuck it in the cage. The phone rang, and she turned to pick it up. She'd barely said “hello” when “swwwooooooooooppppppppp!” Chippie got sucked in. The bird owner gasped, put down the phone, turned off the vacuum, and opened the bag. There was Chippie—still alive, but stunned.

Since the bird was covered with dust and dirt, she grabbed the little bird and raced to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and held Chippie under the running water. Then, realizing that Chippie was soaked and shivering, she did what any compassionate bird owner would do...she reached for the hair dryer and blasted the pet with hot air.

Poor Chippie never knew what hit him.

A few days after the trauma, the reporter from the Galveston Press who had initially written about the event contacted Chippie's owner to see how the parakeet was recovering.

“Well,” she replied, “Chippie doesn't sing much anymore—he just sits and stares.”¹

The unfortunate story of Chippie the Parakeet has been told and retold by preachers and motivational speakers—who are not always the same people, by the way—for many years now. I can picture poor Chippie as each calamity arrived so quickly, so unexpectedly—the tornado and then the dust storm, the monsoon rain and then the hurricane—all of it leaving little Chippie less than chipper. On his perch, the parakeet tends just to sit there and stare. Poor, poor Chippie. The storms of life had stolen his song.

We can be sucked in, washed up, and blown over by life, too. None of us is immune from calamity. It crawls in under the cover of cancer, slithers forward with a smile on its face and then, at just the right moment, strikes with fangs and poisons so painful we cannot even find the breath to scream. It shakes our hands and twists our financial arms behind our backs so fast we are trapped. We can only sit and stare. Somewhere through the wild storms, our songs may be silenced, too.

The wildness experience of life is an equal-opportunity employer; none of us completely escapes. Jesus walked his lonesome valleys; he hungered in the wilderness; he questioned God's reasons--and so shall we: Why God? Have you forsaken me? Why that traumatic childhood abuse; why that difficult diagnosis; why the loss of love or the loss of my loved one; why trials and tribulation; why such insidious temptation coming at me to gain what I should not possess; why did I eat of the forbidden fruit of the Tree of Knowledge; why not trade all my sufferings upon a tree of sorrow?

So it was that when the Hasidim pilgrims vied for those among them who had endured the most suffering, who was the most entitled to complain, the Zaddck told them the story of the Sorrow Tree. On the Day of Judgment each person will be allowed to hang one's unhappiness and sufferings on the branches of the great Tree of Sorrows. After all have found a limb from which their miseries may dangle, they may all walk slowly around the tree. Each person is to search for a set of sufferings that he or she would prefer to those he or she has hung on the tree.

In the end, each one freely chooses to reclaim his or her own assortment of sorrows rather than those of another. Each person leaves the Tree of Sorrows wiser than when he or she arrived.²

Mark expends very little space to Jesus' temptation in the wilderness—thirty-three words!--when Matthew gives six verses. Does this mean that Mark is disinterested in the wilderness part of Jesus' journey? Is he more eager to just get on with the healing and teachings of Jesus? We might be tempted to draw this conclusion and give the whole “Temptation of Jesus” episode the same amount of brain power as it takes in the time to read verses 12 and 13. However, that would be a mistake. Mark does consider the wilderness temptations extremely important, just examine the language he uses.

Jesus didn't happily walk into the wilderness, drying his hair from the river and wondering where he would spend the night. This wilderness test was not just another item on Jesus' to-do list. Mark says the Spirit “drove him out” immediately! I see pushing and shoving, jabbing with sharp weapons in those words. In “Tempted by Satan,” I see relentless and harsh spiritual battering of the Lord, bruising him, bearing down on him without one break in the severity of Satan's salacious temptations, so that Jesus could barely catch his breath let alone gather his wits about him.

Picture it: Jesus has the driving Spirit and Satan, too, but then Mark adds the detail of wild beasts—I see saber-toothed evil around every rock and behind every bush, waiting to pounce hard and heavy with one intent only: to devour Jesus. Wild beasts in the ancient world were often considered the harborers of demons unleashed and frenetic, roaring and warring. The only comfort Jesus had came from angels who waited on him—maybe they dressed his wounds, but they could not prevent him from being wounded. And for 40 days, the Lord's pains and sorrows collected in one long chain of misery. Jesus was going through hell the whole time, yet he kept on going. He didn't stop, sit and stare. Jesus loaded up his sorrows and marched out into the wildness of civilization, to do what God sent the Son here to do: not to condemn the world—not to steal its song and end its life—but to save the world.

Satan and the wild beasts may have thrown everything possible at Jesus to break his spirit, end his mission and thwart God's plan for humanity; but in the end, Satan failed; he could not steal the Savior's song.

Sin can steal our song like nothing else. We are vulnerable, but we are not to give up; we are created for great things, not to spend the rest of our days sitting and staring, chirping out a note once in a while.

We all will travel in and out of songless wildernesses, yet shall we triumph, We all are vulnerable to the world's devils, yet we shall triumph. We all are prone to temptation, YET, triumph we shall because that is God's plan of salvation for us through faith in his Son, Jesus our Christ, who died on the cross, the ultimate tree of sorrow.

Jesus--taking all our sins and sorrows upon himself—was hung on that tree; he died on in our place so that we may live to sing God's praises not just for another day, but for forever.

The journey to the Tree of Sorrow is the purpose of the season of Lent; no matter how sucked in, washed up and blown over we may physically or spiritually be, Jesus has saved us from a silent and certain death. How can we keep from singing? We are wiser for taking this Lenten journey to the Sorrow Tree. Now we know that there will come the day, one glorious, triumphant day, when “poor, poor” Satan will be the one who never knew what hit him. Amen.

February 26, 2012

First Parish Federated Church of South Berwick, Maine

The Reverend Donna Lee Muise, Pastor

1Lucado, Max. In the Eye of the Storm: A Day in the Life of Jesus. Nashville, TN. 1991, p 11.

2Cavanaugh, Brian. TOR, The Sower's Seeds found at www.inspirationalstories.com.

TRANSFIGURATION

Mark 9:2-9

“This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!”

Even people with perfect hearing need hearing aids—perhaps not the kind that increases the decibels of a speaker, but the kind of aid that fulfills the first duty of love: the first duty of love is to listen.”¹ The syndrome of selective hearing is perilously “high-pedestaled” in our world; its roots burrow deeply—and with our permission. Is it not a sign of success … status... and superiority to multitask impressively, to use personal listening devices in spite of the occasion, and to flash the latest version of Apple technology indiscriminately?

Selective hearing, however, is not just a syndrome of the times; listening has been a challenge to humanity for centuries.

The story is told of King Edward VII. His grandson, Prince David, and the King had a good relationship. Still, David was a child, and adults in England during that period, particularly royalty, were not known to be attentive listeners to children. At dinner one evening, Prince David tried unsuccessfully to get his grandfather's attention. The child was reprimanded immediately for interrupting the king's conversation, so the child sat in silence until eventually he was given permission to speak. When the king asked the prince what he wanted, the young boy said, “It's too late now, grandpapa. It was a caterpillar on your lettuce, but you've eaten it.”²

When I was Youth Pastor in Georgetown, MA, I was given the opportunity to preach once every other month. First Congregational Church has a large sanctuary, complete with exposed beams and upper balcony. There was a good sound system to compensate for the expanse. One summer day, in the middle of a sermon, a husband and wife got up from their pew toward the back of the room and marched forward, to the third pew from the front. Everybody noticed; I kept preaching but my eyes were focused on them. When they reseated themselves, the wife shot me a poisoned flaming arrow with both eyeballs.

After worship, she treated me to one of those exotic excursions up one side of me and down the other. “I can't hear you; you need to speak up!” Turned out, Mrs H had eaten a caterpillar. The next week she secretly, sheepishly, confessed to me that the week before, when she “persnicketedly” paraded down the aisle, the real problem turned out to be that her hearing-aid batteries had died.

When Jesus paraded Peter and James and John up a high mountain, our Lord had been telling these disciples that he would soon suffer and die yet his message was rejected by them. Such teaching was simply too painful to hear, too hard to conceive; it was unbearable news. So, Peter took him aside and began to take Jesus on one of those exotic excursions (Mk 8:32a). Peter and the brothers James and John could hear what the Lord said, yet they would not listen. They were failing at the first duty of love.

Each of us can recall a time when we were too preoccupied with our own issues to listen to someone who needed us to hear them. Listening, authentic listening, requires us to put down, tune out, move away from anything that distracts our listening to the one who desperately wants us to hear them.

Writer and preacher Charles Swindoll once found himself with too many commitments in too few days. He got nervous and tense about it.

“I was snapping at my wife and our children, choking down my food at mealtimes, and feeling irritated at those unexpected interruptions through the day....Before long, things around hour home started reflecting the patter of my hurry-up style. It was becoming unbearable.

“I distinctly remember after supper one evening, the words of our younger daughter, Colleen. She wanted to tell me something important that had happened to her at school that day. She began hurriedly, 'Daddy, I wanna tell you somethin' and I'll tell you really fast.' Suddenly realizing her frustration, I answered, 'Honey, you can tell me, and you don't have to tell me really fast. Say it slowly.' I'll never forget her answer. 'Then listen slowly.'”³

People in general spend about 40% of our waking hours listening, yet most of the time we are listening at 25% of our actual capacity. Here are three hearing aids that will help all of us:

• Listen with your eyes. Approximately 80% of communication is nonverbal. Facial expressions and body language usually tell the real story. Look at people when you listen to them.
• Listen with your heart. Be sympathetic. Tune into the emotions behind the words.
• Listen to the people around you—your family, your friends, your coworkers, even strangers. Every moment of every day each of us wants not only to tell our story but to have our story really heard.

Listening is hard work. Peter, James and John found that out. They loved hearing what Jesus had to say until Jesus said some things that were too hard—not just to hear, but also to bear for the words filled them with fear and the meaning was not clear. No wonder they were so frightened on the Mount of Transfiguration! Enters God, in a cloud.

I was in the mountains near North Conway earlier this week. It is hard to take in the complete view when one is driving. If you get lost in the awe of God's creation, you're apt to crash right into it! Winding through a steep mountain road, I could see ahead of me the presidential range, and there was the snow I've been longing to see, shining so brightly before me even though the distance was very far.

Thing about the mountains—whether in New Hampshire's February or Montana's July—is that clouds, dark or bright, can become suspended there, along the steep peaks and hidden plateaus—so that they actually seem to lay down upon the mountains, reposing to consider their next flight.

“Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” (Mk 9:7). If the first duty of love is to listen, then the Christian's primary duty is to listen to Christ. To listen truly to Jesus Christ means this: to trust what he says, to use what he teaches, and to practice what he preaches. Christ is the beloved Son, the only Son, and God sent the Son to us not only to suffer and die for our sin, but after three days to rise again so that death is conquered and we who live in him also rise. God's love for us through the sacrifice of his son, the only son, must not be kept under cover, locked up in temples and tabernacles, frozen in sanctuaries and mosques.

God's message through Jesus Christ is meant to transfigure the world—to change the world in which we live so that it shines, shines, shines. Jesus is the light of the world, and his light is spread not by building booths to hold him in and keep him for our eyes and ears only, but by speaking his word in ways that the deaf may hear, the blind may see, the prisoners, freed; the sick, healed; the hungry fed; and the thirsty satisfied—beyond all measure.

To Christ, let us listen with our eyes—to see what the Lord desires to show us. Let's listen with our hearts, to receive and believe in God's Son, the beloved. Let's listen to him!”

What does Christ have to say to us that we need to hear?

Perhaps Christ wants to talk with us about how we are treating family members, co-workers or friends. Maybe he wants to talk to us about our discipleship or our faithfulness to his Church? He may want to talk with us about some undesirable behavior that has crept into our life. Or maybe, and quite likely, Christ wants to offer us encouragement as we live our lives.

The time is now for the syndrome of selective hearing to give way to the power of elective hearing. We lay ourselves down on God's mountain, we listen to the Son's teaching and desire to understand; and as clouds move out, we shine with God's great light; and we can do it with our own two hands, and our own two feet, when we listen with our own two eyes, and our own two ears, responding to the message we have heard from the one true heart that loves us all.

Friends, check your batteries. Listen slowly! To hear is to see, and to see is to know, and to know is to love, and to love is of God. If we fulfill the first duty of love and listen, we won't be eating any more caterpillars and better than that, we shall hear the voice of the Lord, for God is truly still speaking. Amen

February 19, 2012

The First Parish Federated Church of South Berwick, ME

The Reverend Donna Lee Muise, Pastor

1Paul Tillich, 1886-1965, a German-American theologian.

2John Kramp, Getting Ahead by Staying Behind (Nashville: Broadman & Holman Publishers, 1997), p 137.

3Bits & Pieces, June 24, 1993, pp. 13-14.

BOW THE KNEE

Mark 1:40-45

A leper came to him begging him, and kneeling he said to him, “If you choose, you can make me clean.”

The leper came to Jesus begging him, kneeling in front of him. This untouchable knew what he was asking, thus he begged; and he knew of whom he was asking it, thus he kneeled. There's no doubt in the leper here. When he uses the “if” word, it's not the way you might be thinking. The “if” is not a word of uncertainty. The “if” is a statement of faith. “Teacher, I know that you have the power and authority to make me clean; there's no doubt in my mind that 'if you choose, you can make me clean'” (Mk 1:40).

Where did the leper come by his faith? He certainly did not get it from his religion. After all, leprosy was a punishment from God. Moses had said so. According to the Old Testament book of Leviticus (13:45, et al), the person with such an infectious disease must wear torn clothes, let his hair be unkempt, cover the lower part of his face and cry out, 'Unclean! Unclean!'”

In one touch of Jesus' healing hand, with one soft and cleansing caress, not only is the leper healed of his disease, but he is also restored, body and soul, not just to health: he is alive again to family, community, and temple. The leper is brought back to life—working and worshiping and living among those to whom, the moment he was diagnosed,he was as good as dead. In fact, no one on the “inside” even knew if the one they had cast “outside” was dead or alive, nor did they care much, so long as they themselves did not sin before the synagogue.

We are much more enlightened nowadays, we have so much more knowledge about medicine and diseases and healing. We have made the connection between body and spirit and have started attending to the needs of each for the one who is ill. We have figured out that the touch to patient's body, mind and spirit—these three—is all important. Attending to all these needs can make a huge difference between curing and healing, surviving and thriving, wholeness and holiness.

Today, there hang on doors to patients' hospital rooms canvas bags with pockets in them, and each pocket contains a different supply for the staff and visitors to put on or use before having contact with the patient. In one pocket are yellow plastic gowns, another face masks, another holds gloves and still another looks like it holds some clear tubing. Outside every room is a canister that dispenses antibacterial foam, which we use before we enter that room and after we leave it.

When I was first starting out in chaplaincy last fall, I came to a room with this apparatus on the door, I confess that a couple of times I passed that patient by. I was worried, I guess, that I might catch physically whatever contagion that patient had, and I walked on. Yet, not two steps did I take before I felt it: that crashing, crushing wave of guilt. I felt my steps grow heavy, and my heart felt even heavier. I had let a millisecond of doubt in the form of the big question, What if? deter me from my mission.

Unlike the leper, my “if” was not a statement of faith; it was a matter of spiritual malfeasance. And so I went back, not to the rooms but to the people. So many hands reached out for mine—some were shaking from weakness brought on perhaps by age or alcoholism; some could not look at me and some could not understand why I was there. Yet even those who could not speak nor find courage, reached out for the touch of a hand, the touch of a hand that was not mine but his.

Compassion is not a requirement, a law; a mandate; it is the open door of discipleship. Compassion is the cross upon which Christ's disciples carry the leprous ills of humankind before the Lord, begging because we know the depth of what we are asking and kneeling because we know the glory of whom we are asking. If you choose, Lord, to make us clean then we exchange ritual for righteousness, we are liberated for your work and humbled by your majesty.

As the dreaded disease slid off the leper's oozing skin, so did the perpetual, painful punch of being banished from community begin to slide from his spirit. The man who had become a leper, unclean before all, becomes a man again, acceptable and accepted. And yet, God's son, who had become a man to make us all clean became unclean, unaccepted and unacceptable, in that one gesture of extending his hand. When Jesus touched the leper, Jesus exchanged places with him. Jesus took the man's un-cleanness upon himself, and he carried it the same way he carried the sins of humankind, our sins, to the cross. Why did he do it?

Christ's ministry in the world was all about touching peoples' souls for God; for bringing hearts and minds living outside in rejection by choice or by shunning to the center of the healing, holy circle of the beloved community that God created for all.

Pay attention. Christ did not heal because he was supposed to, he healed because he wanted to. IT is his choice. Look again at verse 41: “Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, “I do choose. Be made clean.”

Knowing who the Lord who gives you life is and what it is that the Lord requires of you is to be touched by holiness. We are changed. We may be loathed to kneel in subservience to earthly powers, but there is no better way to come before heaven. Bow the knee. In every gift—in every poverty—in every circumstance and every victory, bow the knee. I leave you with the words of a Christian hymn that has come to mean so much to me:

There are moments on our journey following the Lord Where God illumines ev’ry step we take. There are times when circumstances make perfect sense to us, As we try to understand each move He makes. When the path grows dim and our questions have no answers, turn to Him. *Bow the knee; Trust the heart of your Father when the answer goes beyond what you can see. Bow the knee; Lift your eyes toward heaven and believe the One who holds eternity. And when you don’t understand the purpose of His plan, In the presence of the King, bow the knee. There are days when clouds surround us, and the rain begins to fall, The cold and lonely winds won’t cease to blow. And there seems to be no reason for the suffering we feel; We are tempted to believe God does not know. When the storms arise, don’t forget we live by faith and not by sight. Bow the knee.... February 12, 2012 !st Parish Federated Church The Rev Donna Lee Muise, Pastor

SOMEONE WE CAN FOLLOW

When they found him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.”

A woman in St Petersburg, Florida, saw the image on a potato chip; someone else saw it on a piece of toast. Another saw it in a water stain. A couple in Canton, Ohio, thought they saw it in the wood grain of a door in their house. The image was so striking that the couple cut it out of the door and took it with them when they moved to another house, because just the thought of it encouraged them.

What is this image all these folks have seen that they cannot bear to part with it: “it” is the image of Jesus Christ. Usually these images make the news; are auctioned on Ebay; or even passed on to give encouragement to others, as was the case with the image in the wooden door. In an NBC online poll, 41% of the people who responded concerning the image claimed that they saw Jesus, too. It makes sense that Jesus' image should appear in a door, after all, Jesus did say, “I am the door” (John 10:7).

Have you ever noticed how often Jesus appears on the covers of Time and Newsweek? Statistics have shown that when Jesus appears on the cover, there is a spike in the magazines' sales. Considering the cultural conversation these days, Jesus is still a very popular person. If we can find him in a taco, a cheese puff and a potato chip, people must be looking pretty hard to find him.

Why look for Jesus in a rock slide, tree trunk or building reflection? Perhaps we are looking for the same miracles that all those who brought their sick and demon-possessed families and friends to the home of Simon Peter's mother-in-law. The word of Christ's whereabouts and the miracle he performed for the woman must have spread like wildfire through the countryside because within a matter of hours, Mark tells us, “That evening, at sundown, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gathered around the door” (v 32).

The townspeople were smart to seek the Son of God, for Jesus came out from behind the door, and then and there “cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons” (v34a). The people kept arriving all through the night; good news travels fast even without Facebook, twitter and email.

People of the 21^st century are not so different from those who lived in the 1st century. Everyone needs

to heal, to get rid of the demons that have taken up residence in our bodies and minds, hearts and souls. How desperate we are to find him, for many marvel at the miracle of his face on the facade of a building, a tree root or a brain scan. Such things make the news, sell magazines and gets the world wondering. How is it that we can see his face on the inside of an orange but not acknowledge his sacrificial love bleeding out on a tree? Why is it that we will be healed by Jesus of the deadliest disease of all, sin, and yet not respond to this unmerited gift of being saved from death as Peter's mother-in-law did by getting up at once and serving him? Serving Jesus means to follow him not only during the times we are confident and secure but most especially in the dark nights of faith, terrifying times of wandering in spiritual wildernesses, and across the many battlefields in life.

In December 1944, the US Army and its Allies were on the offensive. For six months they had rolled on with relentless precision across Western Europe. There seemed to be no stopping them. But suddenly one day in that December, a major portion of the mighty Allied juggernaut ground to a halt. A brilliant counter offensive had been launched by the Germans.

A few days before the Allied operation, German soldiers dressed in American uniforms, together with American jeeps, were parachuted behind American lines. They carried no weapons; their only mission was to discover the roads over which reinforcing Allied armies might travel and change all the signs which pointed to strategic towns and villages. And this simple task of turning signposts to give wrong directions had deadly consequences.

When the Allies called for help as the Germans attacked during in the Battle of the Bulge, many of the reinforcements never arrived. You see, whole battalions were lost trying to find their way across a countryside where the signposts were either down or turned in the wrong direction.

We live in a time when many of the important signposts have been torn down or turned around—moral signposts, ethical signposts, theological signposts. It is no wonder that we lose our way in life; it is no surprise that many believe they are following Christ onto the serving fields, yet find themselves lost and defenseless on the battlefields because they thought they saw his image on a slice of toast, a dried and brittle leaf, a cookie. Some elements of our daily lives have caused us to go in wrong directions. We are so easily fooled, so inexplicably lost, so utterly confused.

Jesus has told us where to find him. He is with the sick, the hungry, the oppressed; the frightened, the lonely, the lost. No image can cure ailments give strength or protect from harm—even if you cut a hole in the door and carry that image with you wherever you go. Only the saving Lord, the one real healer and the granter of amazing grace will do. Imagery in water stains and rock slides can never bring and be Christ to the sick and sorrowing, the hurt and the hungering, the frightened and the thirsty; no, that ministry belongs to those of us who keep our eyes on him, follow him in the direction he leads, serve those along the way who desperately need to personal touch of God.

Yesterday, as I was beginning to write this sermon, I was called to the hospital, to ICU, where a gravely ill woman and her family had just been through a horrendous night. I did not know them; I may never see them again, for the patient was going to be transported to a hospital in Boston to save her life.

As I leaned over the bed to let her know a chaplain was with her now, I looked into her frightened eyes. I held her hand and her grip on mine let me know that she would not let go. She was intubated and could not speak with her voice, but she said volumes to me with her eyes.

A chaplain goes into a hospital ICU with clear and certain purpose during a most uncertain time: to bring the presence of God, the power of prayer and the gift of strong faith to the person in the bed and those gathered around it.

The one thing I was most aware of at that particular time, yesterday, was that I was a vessel for the presence of Christ to flow through. We are not the Christ, yet the Christ can be seen and felt in us, through us, around us. I needed and wanted to be the living image of Christ for this woman in that hour. In other words, I turned myself over to Jesus, so that it was he in my eyes looking into her eyes. It was his hand with my hand holding onto her hand.

If 41% of pollsters can see Christ's image in a piece of wood, then it seems pretty clear to me that they are desperate to see him; so desirous are they that they settle for an inanimate image. How unsettling this knowledge should be for those who serve the Lord. If everyone is looking for Jesus, then the way for him to be found is embodied in the living flesh and blood of those who follow him to serve him.

When Peter went out early that morning to hunt for the missing Jesus, he went out because he was nervous about the crowds gathered around his mother-in-law's house. Peter was very anxious about the innumerable needs of the people, and he was fearful of what they might do if they learned that the healer they sought was not available to them. Simon found Jesus in prayer, and he was a bit impertinent with the Lord. “Everyone is searching for you” (v 37). If only Peter had understood that Christ could comfort and heal through him, perhaps he would have avoided his anxious fever and done as his mother-in-law had done, that is, to rise up and begin to serve the Lord's people himself.

Christ is the Lord, someone we can follow all of our days. There is much to be done, and the path is not always level and smooth. There will be rough places to travel; mountains to climb and battlefields to cross for the sake of the one who poured out his life on the cross and then rose from the dead. Christ is Lord and invites us to his table today, that we may eat and drink of his passion, filled with his spirit to serve all those who are in need of a Savior. When we come to this table of the Lord, let us eat his body and drink his life's blood, that he may love and heal, forgive and uplift all who are looking for the direction, power and strength that only the Son of God can give. Be the eyes, be the hands, , be the very image of Christ alive in this world. Amen.

February 5, 2012

First Parish Federated Church of South Berwick, ME

The Reverend Donna Lee Muise, Pastor