Journeyman (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

Dan Vasser did not want to go.

I think we've all felt that way at one time or another. Or perhaps several times. Somebody wants us to go somewhere and do something ... but we don't wanna.

In Dan's case, there was no option. He had to go, because, you see, Dan was a time-traveler ... a very reluctant one. He could be walking along, or sitting at his desk, or even at home with his toddler when, with almost no warning, he would be swept away into the past.

The disorientation, alone, would be reason enough to not desire the experience. Add in that upon his return to the present —also beyond his control— he could not provide a credible excuse for his absence ... well, let's just say his personal relationships suffered.

Dan is the main character from the short-lived (but much missed) TV show, Journeyman, and is, of course, fictional. Whatever force jerked Dan from his life as a husband, father, and reporter, it seemed to have zero concern for Dan. And, of most importance, Dan never had a choice.

That's the main way we differ from Dan: For most of us, living in the first world as we do, there is almost always a choice.

We can say no.

You might think Jonah was more like Dan than us, but that would be wrong. Not only did Jonah have free will, he so strongly objected to what God had instructed him to do, he actually went the other way!

Jonah is told to go and preach in Nineveh, a very wicked place. Jonah resists. God insists. Jonah goes ... but in the opposite direction. God prepares a "great fish" to swallow Jonah. Eventually, Jonah prays and (somewhat) repents. Upon his release from the fish, Jonah goes to Nineveh and preaches what God had instructed him to preach ... but he is not happy about it.

The book of Jonah, though, is not really about Nineveh, nor about the sailors on the ship, and certainly not about the fish.

The story is about Jonah's relationship with God. Don't think for a minute God had to send Jonah to Nineveh. He could have sent anyone. He chose Jonah for a reason. Jonah needed a lesson about obedience, a lesson in God's priorities, a lesson about grace, a lesson about second chances.

And a lesson about God's sovereignty.

Unlike our reluctant time-traveler, Dan, Jonah had —and exercised— free will. He chose to disobey God. And why? Because he didn't agree with God's willingness to redeem some wicked people.

There's a similar problem in the parable Jesus tells in this week's selection from Matthew. Those who have labored in the vineyard the longest (all day) are angered that those who worked only an hour received the same pay. Like the laborers, we can become so invested in our own spiritual journey that we discount the journey of those who are newly redeemed.

The landowner's answer to the angry workers is really the same as God's answer to Jonah in Chapter 4: "Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?"

God is sovereign. He can do as He wants ... and what He wants is to forgive people their sins. We're on the wrong spiritual journey if we're not on board with that.

_________________________

READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 20 (25) (September 24, 2017)
http://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/

Exodus 16:2-15
Psalm 105:1-6, 37-45
Jonah 3:10-4:11
Psalm 145:1-8
Philippians 1:21-30
Matthew 20:1-16

_________________________

Lectionary Breakfast continues to meet Friday mornings at the Waco "Egg and I" restaurant. Join us at 8:00 for a piece of the journey unlike any other. Food and fellowship topped off with a satisfying time in the scriptures.

Blessings,
Steve

Fellow Travelers (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

I don't know how long I lay there, eyes fixed on the starry array above. Did I see Sputnik, our "fellow traveler?" I saw something arcing across the night sky ... blinking ... but, really, who knows? There is, apparently, some controversy over whether the satellite was actually visible to the naked eye. And, on top of that, Sputnik II launched just one month later. So, even if I saw something, it might not have been the first one.

That said, I vividly recall lying on my back in our backyard on a chilly winter night. It seemed Sputnik was all anyone had talked about for weeks. I had somehow gotten it into my head that I would be able to see it pass overhead that night. So there I was, bundled up against the cold, a light frost barely visible along the tips of the grass blades. It was a while before anyone came looking for me that night. I was a free-range kid.

In October 1957, when the Soviet Union successfully launched Sputnik, the first artificial Earth satellite, the world was electrified. Sputnik not only explosively kicked off the "space race" between the USA and the USSR, it changed the trajectories of millions of lives. Whole career categories appeared that had, before, only existed in science fiction (remember Homer Hickam's great memoir, Rocket Boys, and the movie version, October Sky?).

It not only changed the mid-century world, it created the world we live in, today.

The impact of that wintry night's vigil —and the events surrounding it— stayed with me for a long, long time. Later —probably years later— I recall getting the thought that we, Sputnik and the moon and me, were all three speeding through space that night, circling the sun ... all together.

In a very real sense, we were all Sputniks in the Fall of 1957; "fellow travelers," as the name implies, moving along a celestial path. Ideally, we would all still be traveling together. But, you see, Earth was too big, Sputnik too close. After three short months, the relative enormity of Earth led to our gravitational field pulling Sputnik from its course, and eventually to its destruction.

In a spiritual sense, Paul raises a similar concern in this week's Lectionary selection from the Letter to the Romans. Paul's focus is on the then-current dispute of whether followers of Jesus could eat meat sacrificed to idols. But make no mistake, "to eat or not to eat" is not the question. He makes it clear that neither those who eat such meat, nor those who refuse to do so, has the authority to judge the other.

God reserves to Himself the power of judgment. It is not our purview.

But there's another message, a more subtle one: "We do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves" (Romans 14:7). In this, Paul makes an excellent case for us to view each other as "fellow travelers" on individual spiritual journeys ... separate beings, but God as our common destination. Like Sputnik and all those satellites that followed, we can be pulled off course, if you will, our focus pulled away by disputable matters. Or, perhaps worse, we may be the larger body, overwhelming the smaller ones with our insistence they must act as we think they should.

We are not to think ourselves so important (or so in-the-right) that we pass judgment on those who oppose us on disputable matters.

We are to love our fellow travelers more than we love our opinion.

_________________________

READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 19 (24) (September 17, 2017)
http://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=159

Exodus 14:19-31
Psalm 114 or Exodus 15:1b-11, 20-21
Genesis 50:15-21
Psalm 103:(1-7), 8-13
Romans 14:1-12
Matthew 18:21-35

_________________________

Like the Sputnik logo? You can get your own here: https://www.chopshopstore.com/products/sputnik-first-in-space-sticker?variant=11890200579

_________________________

Join us Friday morning for Lectionary Breakfast. You can find us at 8:00 at the Waco "Egg and I" restaurant. We are presently meeting in the function room (around the back). The food is quite tasty, the Bible discussion quite lively, and the folk quite lovely ... fellow travelers, all.

Blessings,
Steve

Two Rivers Meet at My Hometown (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

They call it a "confluence." That's the word for when two waters flow into the same space. There is such a confluence in my hometown: the Ohio River and the Tennessee River. It's a very picturesque image ... when described in words.

In reality, it's two very different energy flows slamming into each other; distinct entities trying to overpower each other, neither giving way to the other. You can actually see the two of them fighting to remain distinct from one another. The two waters even look different from each other. One is smoother, darker, richer in color. The other is choppier, roiling almost, and much lighter.

A more perfect metaphor cannot be found for the two main groups of Jewish thought prevalent around the time of Jesus and his early followers. The Pharisees believed in an afterlife, and believed each person must scrupulously keep the laws and commandments in order to ensure one would actually get to that afterlife. The Sadducees rejected the idea of an afterlife, believing each person must do all the good one can do because this life is all there is. The two groups were always in conflict, battling, if you will, for which was right, which would transcend the other.

In my hometown, we are aware of a truth that affects how we view that river battle constantly playing out before us: there is something much larger just over the horizon. Just about a hour farther on, these two battling waters smack into the Mississippi River.

That's the end of the battle.

We say things like, "They join the Mississippi." But, in truth, they don't so much join as they disappear. There is no more talk of which river ... it's the "Mighty Mississippi," so big it absorbs all other waters connecting to it, taking them and all they represent down to the sea.

We see something just like that in this week's Romans passage. The two factions are like my two hometown rivers; and they have been using the laws and the commandments in their battle to control people's lives. Then Jesus comes and teaches a much larger, all consuming truth: Love is the fulfillment of all those commandments and laws.

Suddenly, just like my hometown rivers, all those laws and Commandments —and all the conflicts based on them— are swallowed up in something larger, so much larger it's almost too much to grasp.

Love is a mighty river, the only thing that matters in those matters ... and the only flow that can carry us all to the sea.

__________________________

READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 18 (23) (September 10, 2017)
http://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/

Exodus 12:1-14
Psalm 149
Ezekiel 33:7-11
Psalm 119:33-40
Romans 13:8-14
Matthew 18:15-20
______________________

Will you be with us Friday morning at Lectionary Breakfast? Come at 8:00 and enjoy good food, good fellowship, and the good word. We're still in the function room at the Waco "Egg and I" restaurant. Look for us around the back.

It's only an hour, but it flows through the entire week.

Blessings,
Steve

Brick ... by Brick ...by Brick (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

Doubtless you've heard some version of this story. Two men are observed working with bricks: bricklayers ... or "brickies" if they're British. One appears surly while the other seems joyful. Surly says he's laying bricks, while Joyful declares he's building a cathedral.

The story is crafted so we think well of Joyful. Of Surly? Well, not so much. The idea is that we have a choice: we can approach our work like Joyful, see the "bigger picture" of our labors, instead of concentrating on the more mundane aspects of our tasks.

That's good ... as far as it goes.

But what if Surly was just having a bad day? We all get those from time to time. Sometimes the activities we're involved with just don't have that "cathedral" cachet. If we are being clear in our view, we can realize that, when all was said and done, both men built a cathedral.

There is nothing to say that we must always be happy, whistle while we work, or sing out "Hi ho, hi ho; it's off to work we go" every morning. Sometimes, we just aren't in the mood for all that. The real question, at the end of the day, is: did we do our work correctly? If yes, then the cathedral gets built.

In this week's Lectionary passage from Romans we get the other Love Scripture. It is, if you will, the brickies version as opposed to the cathedral version in 1st Corinthians 13. Those latter verses give us the broad strokes about love, while Romans is definitely the day-to-day, nuts and bolts, brick by brick approach to love.

Perhaps you've wondered exactly how love is patient, is kind, does not envy, does not boast, is not proud, does not dishonor others, is not self-seeking, is not easily angered, keeps no record of wrongs, does not delight in evil but rejoices in the truth, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

It seems pretty daunting when you see it all compact like that.

So, the next time it crosses your mind to wonder about the practice of loving, the how of all those lofty goals in 1st Corinthians 13, turn back to Romans 12:9-21 and read the very practical actions listed there.

Then, just do it ... brick ... by brick ... by brick.
_________________________

READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 17 (22) (September 3, 2017)

Exodus 3:1-15
Psalm 105:1-6, 23-26, 45b
Jeremiah 15:15-21
Psalm 26:1-8
Romans 12:9-21
Matthew 16:21-28
_________________________

Don't miss an opportunity to discuss the sermon in advance (so to speak) at Friday morning's Lectionary Breakfast. We're still meeting at 8:00 in the function room of the Waco "Egg and I" restaurant (it's around the back).

Join us for an hour of food, fellowship, and thrashing about in the Bible. It's not holy ground, so keep your shoes on 😁

Enjoy the week!
Steve

________________________
A different version of this reflection appeared in September 2014 as "The Bricklayer."