HUMPTY DUMPTY [ actually ] SAT ON A WALL (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the King's horses and all the King's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again!

Just a nursery rhyme ... right?

Egg shell and yolk at the base of a stone wall, soldiers standing around looking puzzled?

But what if it really happened?

Turns out there was very large canon mounted high on a town wall in 17th century England. During the (then famous) Siege of Colchester, those seeking Parliamentary rule attacked the walled city because it was a haven for Royalist (those who believed rule should remain with the royals, only).

That canon’s name? Humpty Dumpty.

Apparently, Humpty Dumpty was quite effective as weaponry goes, keeping the Parliamentarians at bay for about a month. Effective, that is, until some clever Parliamentarian thought to fire on the wall just below the canon ... and when the wall caved in, Humpty Dumpty "had a great fall."

There was an attempt by the Royalists ("the King's men") to put HD back into commission, but the damage from the fall was too great. Still, the Royalists held out for another six weeks. But in the end, without that big boy high up on the wall to drive them away, the Parliamentarians prevailed. And I think you know how all that ended up.

Maybe knowing the true story of Humpty Dumpty will make it a bit easier to understand a strange phrase from this week's 2 Kings scripture selection.

Stop and read it, then come back.

You saw it, right? Elisha cries out, "Father, father! The chariots of Israel and its horsemen!" right after Elijah is swept away by the chariot of fire? The "father" part I get: likely Elisha had come to regard Elijah as a father. Their separation by the emissaries of God was sudden, so shouting out "father!" certainly fits in the shock of the moment. Elisha suddenly realized just how valuable Elijah was to him, personally.

But what is this business about Israel's chariots and horsemen?

Most scholars believe Elisha's use of this phrase means he had suddenly realized just how vulnerable the nation of Israel was without Elijah. What Elijah had done to protect and save Israel from its enemies, both within and without —by being God's faithful prophet in such a tumultuous time— was greater than even the great armies of the King.

Nothing, not even "all the King's horses and all the King's men" were enough to equal Elijah’s value to Israel.

Look about you. Any Humpty Dumpty's nearby? Are there men and women you know who so faithfully serve the Lord that our fellowship will be significantly diminished by their passing?

Now is the time to be with them. Don't wait until they've gone home to be with the Lord to suddenly realize just how valuable they are, especially to you.

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A different version of this reflection appeared in 2015 as "All the King's Horses and all the King's Men.”

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Transfiguration Sunday (February 11, 2018)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//

2 Kings 2:1-12
Psalm 50:1-6
2 Corinthians 4:3-6
Mark 9:2-9

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Can you join us Friday morning for Lectionary Breakfast? As usual, we meet at 8:00 at the Waco "Egg and I" restaurant (Meeting room just off the main dining room). Our time together is both fun and precious.

If you can't be with us —maybe you're so far away that joining us is impractical— maybe it's time you started your own group like this.

Something to think about.

Enjoy the week!
Steve

Just a Carpenter (a Lectionary reflection by Steve Orr)

Seventh Grade was tough; the toughest of the three years I spent in Junior High School. And one of the toughest parts? Shop Class.

Our teacher had strict rules, the chief one being, "No horseplay!" Punishments were harsh, public, and immediate. It was a stressful year in an arena fraught with potential pitfalls.

Consequently, I made every effort to follow the rules. I performed every step with care. I employed each hand-tool as intended, cleaned it after use, and stored it properly after cleaning. I used every power tool with extreme caution and only after donning the correct protective gear and obtaining permission from Mr. Towne to turn it on. As harsh as those experiences were, though, they had one big upside:

I became a carpenter.

At the end of that year, I could calculate board feet. I could design and build structures out of wood. I knew which woods were right for which purpose. I knew the difference between types, sizes, and uses of nails, screws, nuts, and bolts. I knew how to operate a power saw, a T-Square, and a wood clamp. I knew the correct way to swing a hammer (there really is a correct way). Eventually, my carpentry skills helped me pay my way through college.

So why this stroll down memory lane?

It was triggered by something I read in this week's Lectionary selections. In Mark 6, Jesus returns to his hometown partway through his three-year ministry. Initial praise and acceptance by the home crowd is soon replaced by their criticism and contempt:

"He left there and returned to his hometown. His disciples came along. On the Sabbath, he gave a lecture in the meeting place. He made a real hit, impressing everyone. “We had no idea he was this good!” they said. “How did he get so wise all of a sudden, get such ability?”

"But in the next breath they were cutting him down: “He’s just a carpenter—Mary’s boy. We’ve known him since he was a kid. We know his brothers, James, Justus, Jude, and Simon, and his sisters. Who does he think he is?” They tripped over what little they knew about him and fell, sprawling. And they never got any further. Jesus told them, “A prophet has little honor in his hometown, among his relatives, on the streets he played in as a child.” Jesus wasn’t able to do much of anything there—he laid hands on a few sick people and healed them, that’s all. He couldn’t get over their stubbornness. He left and made a circuit of the other villages, teaching." (‭Mark‬ ‭6‬:‭1-6‬ MSG)

Just a carpenter?!

Of all that was said, to me this was the most telling. Carpentry, done right, is complex. There are a thousand things that can go wrong or be done wrongly. It takes skill and concentration to ensure a good product. But that wasn't the problem. They didn't disparage Jesus as a poor carpenter.

What they did was something many of us have been guilty of: disparaging a person's vocation because it "isn't spiritual enough." It's quite common for us to believe spiritual thoughts can only be expressed by those who have received advanced education and training in religious matters.

How dare this mere carpenter speak as one who had a right to teach God's word?

They forgot that God sends who He chooses to send, regardless of their usual vocation (e.g., Amos was an arborist and a shepherd, Nehemiah was a civil servant, Elisha was a farmer). And because of this prejudice, and their unwillingness to see beyond their shared roots, they missed the opportunity to fully benefit from the teachings of Jesus.

Marshall McLuhan famously declared, "The medium is the message" (meaning, the method of delivery was just as important as the content, and in fact was the context for the message). That is often true with the messages God sends His people: the medium (the prophet, teacher, etc.) is often not a recognized religious practitioner.

Before you think I am disparaging those who have invested a portion of their lives in religious training, let me assure I am not. All I am urging is this: weigh the message; don't disparage it just because the messenger doesn't fit the accepted religious mold.

Even if he's just a carpenter.
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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
http://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/

Proper 9 (14) (July 5, 2015)
2 Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10
Psalm 48
Ezekiel 2:1-5
Psalm 123
2 Corinthians 12:2-10
Mark 6:1-13
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What better way to start the weekend early than by joining us for Lectionary Breakfast? We still meet Friday mornings at the Waco "Egg and I" restaurant. That hour from 8:00 to 9:00 goes fast, but we're still able to squeeze in a week's worth of scriptures, discussions, and laughter.

Enjoy the week!
Steve

Just Like Us

Just Like Us
(a brief Lectionary reflection by Steve Orr).

Well here's another one.  Another one of those pieces of scripture the Lectionary sometimes foists on us without context or explanation (I call them "scrap-ture").  

Or is it?   Could it be the selection of these fragments is intentional, setting the hook so to speak, ploys to tempt us to head into the Book to find out on our own?  Maybe.  For me, the jury is still out on that one.  In any case, if you know any thing about Elijah, you know this scrap (1st Kings 19:4-8) is about a not-very-well-known crisis point in the life of the great prophet of God.

Crisis?  Wait.  Isn't this the guy who prayed that it wouldn't rain and got a 3-and-a-half-year drought?  And didn't he later pray the rain to start again?  Isn't he the one who led the defeat of the 450 prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel with that spectacular fire from Heaven thing?  Isn't this the guy who was the first to raise the dead?!

The fiery chariot guy, right?

Why would HE have a crisis?  That right there---that question---is why the inclusion of this particular "scrap-true" may just be intentional on the part of the Lectionary.  Elijah doesn't take up a lot of Biblical real estate: a few chapters in 1st Kings, a few passages scattered across a handful other places.  But, page count aside, he is considered the greatest prophet; clearly the one connected to the most, and most spectacular, miracles.

And yet, here he is in this week's passage begging God to take his life.

If you think about it, you know those other stories about Elijah.  And the one that follows this week's passage, too: the "still, small voice" story.  And you may have heard the one where Elijah passes his Prophet job onto Elisha.  And, of course, pretty much everyone knows about Elijah being swept up into heaven by way of a fiery chariot ride.

There is a passage elsewhere that has a bearing on this moment in Elijah's life, an "An Instance of the Fingerpost" (thank you Ian Pears!) where God is pointing us to something important.  I remember well the moment I first read James 5:17 ("Elijah was human just like us").  It stopped me in my tracks.  All I could think was, "That guy?!"

It hardly seemed possible that such a legendary figure could be the same as we.  How could that be?  It drove me to investigate.  What was it about Elijah that was "just like us?"  As I read one amazing episode after another, I began to wonder if James and I were thinking about the same Elijah.  And then I came to today's passage and I knew.

He dropped his basket. 

That's the polite southern way to say, "He lost it" or, less prosaically, "He was depressed."  You have to be a very long way from mental health before you beg God to take your life.  That kind of thing, that depression that sometimes follows those wonderful mountaintop experiences, that can happen to any of us.  And does.

Besides the frank revelation that Elijah had begun to believe more in the power of his enemies than in the power of his God---as comforting as it is to see him as human---there is also what God did about it.  In the passage that follows this one, God listens to Elijah's litany of concerns and then does something remarkable: God (a) helps Elijah see reality is not as bad as he thought, (b) re-tasks Elijah for the next phase of his service, and (c) sends Elijah BACK THE WAY HE CAME(!).

Elijah's journey, from mountaintop to depression and back, was a long one.  There had to be periods of physical rest and refreshment as well as spiritual renewal.  And one-on-one time with God was essential.  But the results made that journey worthwhile, maybe even necessary.

Elijah was human.  Just like us. 


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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
http://lectionary.library.vanderbilt
Proper 14 (19) (August 12, 2012)

2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33
Psalm 130
1 Kings 19:4-8
Psalm 34:1-8
Ephesians 4:25-5:2
John 6:35, 41-51