Sunday, November 26, 2017

Docking With the International Space Station (a Steve Orr Lectionary Reflection)

Every rocket launching for the International Space Station (ISS) must do one thing exactly right.

When a craft needs to dock with the ISS, there is a strict procedure to which it must adhere. First, match the ISS speed and orbit at a position below the ISS, approximately a football field away (110 meters; include the End Zones). From launch to this position can take days. The craft must hold at this point until given permission to advance.

Once cleared to advance, the craft cuts the distance to a little less than half (50 meters) while using its nose and tail rockets to alter its pitch, yaw, and roll to match that of the ISS. This usually takes a couple hours.

Next, again after receiving permission, the pilot moves the craft at a pace of about 2 inches per second, stopping the approach about 10 meters (33 feet) from the ISS. Once more, the pilot awaits clearance from mission control before moving any closer.

The final leg of the trip, that last 30 feet or so, goes very slowly; about 2 inches every 20 seconds. It takes about half an hour. And even after the craft has docked, the crew must wait another two hours for the connecting passage to pressurize before they can enter the ISS.

This is a long and complicated process, made even longer by the fact that at multiple points fresh permissions must be obtained before proceeding.

I think most of us believe getting to God works much the same way: full speed toward God; stop and wait; get more permissions; slow our approach; stop again; get even more permissions. And then, right when we think we have finally made it, jumped through all the hoops, we're told to wait ... Again.

We see ourselves as the rocket, expending all the energy to connect with God; and we see God as the ISS, floating majestically out in space, expending no energy at all, just awaiting our approach. But we have a fundamental misunderstanding about the ISS: we think it can't maneuver. On the contrary, it can maneuver; it just doesn't maneuver any more than is necessary. Any fuel it uses must be replaced (i.e., brought up from the Earth). Plus, at an expense of over $10,000 per pound of propellant, a single 180 degree maneuver costs more than $1,000,000 to execute. At that price, it's no surprise the maneuvering is usually left to the approaching craft.

God has no such limitations.

Nor does God expect us to "do all the work." The scriptures are clear on this, no matter whether you read the Old Testament or the New. James writes, "Draw near to God and God will draw near to you." Don't get the wrong idea, though; it's not a quid pro quo. Look at the father in the parable about the prodigal son: as soon as he sees his son "still a long way from home," he runs to his son, meeting him well down the road (Luke 15).

That is the spirit of more than one passage from this week's Lectionary selections (Ezekiel, Psalm 95). God is not waiting for us to execute a painstaking series of maneuvers in order to approach him. He is searching for us, looking down the road, ready to run to us at first sighting.

Start your approach ... God will take care of the docking.


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A slightly different version of this reflection appeared in November 2014.
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For more about docking with the ISS, link to:
http://www.howitworksdaily.com/docking-with-the-iss/
"Docking With The ISS"
How It Works Magazine
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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
REIGN OF CHRIST
Proper 29(34)
Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost
(November 26, 2017)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=170

Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24
Psalm 100
Psalm 95:1-7a
Ephesians 1:15-23
Matthew 25:31-46

Saturday, November 18, 2017

Lone Wolf and Cub: The Warrior Code of the Samurai (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

An assassin takes his infant son along on his murderous business. How can that possibly be Japan’s greatest Samurai story?

“Lone Wolf and Cub” is the tale of Samurai Ogami Itto. When he begins his mission to avenge the murder of his wife, his son is three years old. It is not your classic single father story. The tale is told over the course of 28 volumes, and is so popular it has been adapted into four plays, six movies, and a television series.

But, beyond the obvious, there is another problem. Itto is not a typical Samurai. In Japan, “Samurai” referred to a retainer, someone who accompanied the Lord, had pledged fealty to the Lord, and served the Lord in close attendance. It means, essentially, “to wait upon the Lord.”

Itto, though, is a Ronin, a Samurai who no longer serves a master. How he got that way is one of the reasons you might consider experiencing the story, yourself.

The Hagakure ("hidden leaves") is a book that captures this warrior code of the samurai. It is a practical and spiritual guide for the warrior ("retainer" in the book). It has been said of the Hagakure that it is Japan; that it captures the heart of all that truly matters to the culture.

So ... is everyone in Japan a warrior?

Well, no. But everyone is, in their world view, either a Lord or a Retainer. There are few Lords and many Retainers. A book delving into what makes one the ideal retainer could easily be said to be the heart of the culture. It’s enough to make me wonder what it is that makes this book —on the surface about warriors— be considered the guide for almost everyone in the country.

What, then, is this warrior code of the Samurai?

As with many things in life, it is a simple understanding: everyone, from the most skilled to the least, can hold a place of honor in the culture. To quote the Hagakure: "...even a person who is good for nothing and exceedingly clumsy will be a reliable retainer if only he has the determination to think earnestly of his master."

If only the slothful (frightened?) servant in this week's Matthew 25 Lectionary selection had been able to access the Hagakure. Perhaps if he had been keeping his mind fixed on what was best for his master, he would have made a better choice concerning the talent accorded him.

The lesson here for us?

When we stop focusing on what could go wrong, and instead focus on what God intended for us to do with the talents to which we have been entrusted, we should be able to reason through to the wise choice.

We need only think earnestly of our master.


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A considerably different version of this reflection appeared in November 2014 as “The Heart of the Hagakure.”
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Photo Credit: —WARNING! SOME PHOTOS VERY GRAPHICALLY DEPICT DEATH BY SEPPUKU (HARAKIRI)— Venetian-born photographer Felice Beato took these photos in the late 1800’s. He personally added the coloring so they would more accurately show how the Samurai looked. http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-4161102/Live-die-sword-Brutal-pictures-Samurai.html

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A bit more on “Lone Wolf and Cub” at: https://www.japantimes.co.jp/culture/2016/10/08/books/book-reviews/lone-wolf-cub-japans-greatest-samurai-manga/#.WhDHL2hMGEc

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 28 (33) (November 19, 2017)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//

Judges 4:1-7
Psalm 123
Zephaniah 1:7, 12-18
Psalm 90:1-8, (9-11), 12
1 Thessalonians 5:1-11
Matthew 25:14-30
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Lectionary Breakfast is a fun and interesting way to start the day and a great way to enter the weekend. We dig into the scriptures for the coming Sunday, asking questions and seeking their relevance for our lives. Join us Friday morning at the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant. We start at 8:00 and finish around 9:00. It’s an hour like no other.

Samurai welcome.

Blessings,
Steve

Sunday, November 12, 2017

Driving in the River (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

We were driving our car in the river!

It was a strange experience. I have forded narrow streams where, on a low-water crossing, my wheels were in the wet for a few seconds. But until we decided to spend a week at the Laity Lodge Family Camp in Leakey, Texas, I had never driven through a river to reach a destination.

It felt so strange to see the road dip into the river knowing we would be in there for a while, that it wouldn’t be just an in & out kind of thing. Granted, the Frio River is shallow most of the year, and it was only for about half a mile, but still ...

Greek philosopher Heraclitus famously advised us: “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.” But what if the man is crossing the river? What is the effect of delaying that first step into the waters?

I'm sure a lot of things happened in 49 BC. But one thing in particular had a lasting impact on the history of the world. That was the year a fellow named Julius decided to add Caesar to his name. In that year, Julius led his army to the edge of a small river named Rubicon. As long as they stayed on the northeast side of the river, all would be well ... but nothing would change. Alternately, should they decide to cross the Rubicon, leave their province and ride into Italy proper, civil war would break out. The penalty for just crossing that river would be death, not only for Julius, but for every member of his army as well.

It was, truly, the point of no return.

Today, when we read or hear the phrase "cross the Rubicon," we understand there is no actual river involved. People say that when they mean a decision is in the offing that cannot be taken back. Once made, we will have to face the consequences of the decision. But don't be fooled: not making the decision is also a decision. And the consequences for not choosing may be just as costly, or more so.

That is the situation in this week's Joshua selection. At the end of his very long life, Joshua called together all the leaders of Israel, reminded them of all God had done for them: Egypt, exodus, patience in the wilderness, the gift of a land God had promised their ancestors.

Then ... he invited them to "cross the Rubicon.”

"And if it seems evil to you to serve the LORD, choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods which your fathers served that were on the other side of the River, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you dwell. But as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.” (‭Joshua‬ ‭24‬:‭15‬ NKJV)

God wants each of us to make our choice. Will we commit to God or will we choose another path? Or will we attempt to avoid the decision, just stand there on the banks of the Rubicon? It is a choice we must make of our own free will. But it is not a quid pro quo decision; God does not wait to bless us; does not, as some would have you believe, withhold his blessings until we choose. Just as with the Israelites, God fulfills His promises. The rain falls on us all.

That leaves only the choice: do we yield our hearts as the Israelites were asked to do; or do we, by action or inaction, decide to do something else? Each of us must come to it: the time to cross the Rubicon.

And it just won’t do to amble along in the middle of the river ... we have to commit to one side or the other.

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Portions of this reflection appeared in 2014 as “Crossing the Rubicon.”

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 27 (32) (November 12, 2017)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//

Joshua 24:1-3a, 14-25
Psalm 78:1-7
Amos 5:18-24
Psalm 70
1 Thessalonians 4:13-18
Matthew 25:1-13

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Can you join us Friday morning for Lectionary Breakfast? All of you are invited. We start at 8:00 and wrap things up around 9:00. We continue to meet at the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant (in their function room: entrance is around the side, at the back). It’s an hour of food, scripture, discussion, and laughter ... Where do you find that at breakfast-time?

Saturday, November 4, 2017

DAY OF THE [walking] DEAD (a Steve Orr Lectionary Reflection)

On the screen, the decaying not-quite-dead move inexorably forward on a shuffling parody of human walking. The plucky heroes and heroines episodically run to various hiding places, but can never seem to actually shake the tide of zombies following them. What’s tips them off? Sound? Smell? Something about truly live humans draws these “walking dead” to their hiding places with unerring accuracy

... or it could be just the movie’s plot.

That is how we tend to think of the “walking dead,” though: Zombies. How else would it be? Dead people do not get up out of their graves and just walk away ... like nothing ever happened to them.

Or do they?

In a week packed with Halloween, All Saints Day, Dia De Los Muertos, and the 500th Anniversary of Protestantism; what’s a person to write about? Well, I guess some people are going to write about Martin Luther, the Wittenberg door, and the Reformation. But, as you probably already noticed, I’m going to write about dead people ... and walking.

All of the All Saints Day Lectionary readings reference that time when Jesus will return, when we will “be like him,” when the saints will gather in heaven and stand before the Throne of God. This is “the resurrection” at which Martha believed she would once again see her dead brother Lazarus. But Jesus tells her, “I am the resurrection.” Then, he proceeds to raise her brother from his grave to rejoin the living, right then.

When “the resurrection” is standing right next to you, there is no need to wait for the last day for people to return to life. Throughout the New Testament, we see Jesus (and, later, the apostles) return dead people to life ... and those people walk. But the strangest resurrection episode takes place during the three days in which Jesus is dead (Matthew 27:50-53). Immediately after Jesus died, graves opened and the “holy ones” returned to life. But that’s not the end of it: after Jesus’ resurrection, these “holy ones” walked into Jerusalem and “appeared to many people.”

It was a for-real “dia de los [walking] muertos”; another miracle awaiting that first Easter morning to take a stroll.

Shocking!

I’m certain it was even more shocking, then, when some of them encountered people they had known in their previous life. Accepting that the power of Jesus to raise the dead was so great that it blasted out into graveyards at the moment of his death, I note that it wasn’t everyone who came back to life. Who, then, were these so-called “holy ones”? Don’t think of them as ascetics who had lived their lives in retreat from the culture of their day.

No.

The Jewish understanding of holiness was not a passive one, but rather a very active one. Yes, “holy ones” were to be separate and distinct. But they were expected to interact with their culture, permeating it like light ... or perhaps, salt. To be “in the world, but not of the world,” to borrow a phrase we often hear, even in these most post-modern times, to describe how christians are supposed to live out our spiritual walk —to walk the walk, nor just talk the talk— until we reach our destination.

To —in much the way we are to love God— love our neighbors as ourselves ... our holy selves.

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Table of Readings: https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//lections.php?year=A&season=Season%20after%20Pentecost


READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
All Saints Day (November 1, 2017)

Revelation 7:9-17
Psalm 34:1-10, 22
1 John 3:1-3
Matthew 5:1-12

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PROPER 26(31) November 5, 2017

Joshua 3:7-17
Psalm 107:1-7, 33-37
Micah 3:5-12
Psalm 43
1 Thessalonians 2:9-13
Matthew 23:1-12

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Photo credit: The link is to a fun zombie-based —and amazingly accurate— representation of how to actually manage your time while balancing the urgent vs the important. http://www.livehard.co.uk/important-vs-urgent-time-management-zombie-apocalypse-style/

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Can you join us Friday morning at Lectionary Breakfast? We gather at 8:00 in the “Waco “Egg and I” function room (at the back, around the side) for food, fellowship, prayer ... and some quality time hammering out how to use the scriptures to ensure we walk the walk, not just talk the talk.

Blessings,
Steve