The Billion Dollar Giveaway (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

I was offended. It was supposed to be a celebration, and they were ruining it!

We had accomplished something truly amazing. Having crossed the $2 Billion point in our efforts, our leadership was taking a day to celebrate our accomplishments. Bigwigs flew out from the main office. They took photos of us holding a giant $2 Billion check. We were being touted in the news.

It should have been a perfect day. And yet, detractors in our own office had dubbed our accomplishment “the billion dollar giveaway.” Sniping from the wings, it seemed to me. It wasn’t their accomplishment, so they intended to ruin it for the rest of us. I mean ... come on ... there were cookies and cake in the break room!

I was in a state. No telling what I was saying out loud. It was at this point my boss gently guided me into his office and closed the door. He told me to calm down. He then shocked me by putting a name to my behavior.

Aesthetic outrage.

Yep, that’s right. He was telling me that the whisper campaign of our fifth-column naysayers, while possibly a violation of decorum, had no impact on the substance of our gathering. We had, in fact, accomplished the very thing we were celebrating. In other words, my outrage had no real substance. I had no real reason to be offended.

Wait. What? But ... But they ... Oh.

Slowly it began to sink in. He was correct. My response was to some superficial matter and had completely ignored the substance of the event. I was offended at their violation of what I perceived as the rules of proper conduct. Until he made me see it, I had lost track of what was truly important.

Jesus ran into a similar mindset in this week’s scripture from Luke. He healed a woman while at church! To our modern sensibilities, this may seem absolutely the right place and time, but not so to the leader of the Synagogue. He was offended. How dare Jesus ... or anyone ... say or do anything to breach the decorum of the Sabbath! — There are rules, people! — In his view, all that healing should take place on one of the other six days.

But Jesus came back with inescapable logic. Not a person there would leave their farm animals bound on a Sabbath, unable to have access to water. How does that stack up against providing much needed relief to a human on the same day?

What we make room for in our spiritual space is, not surprisingly, personal. And also no surprise, we give ourselves some latitude. The downside of this is that, sometimes (often?), we don’t allow the same leeway in the spiritual space of others ... particularly if what they do breeches our definition of decorum.

You may find that some people prefer the traditional pieces of worship to the actual work of worship. Nothing Jesus said that day was new, and it wasn’t news to His audience. For centuries, the Prophets had been telling God’s people that the work of worship — attending to the needs of the poor, the widowed, the orphaned, the imprisoned ...and the ill — was more important to God than the sacrifices and festivals ... even though God had instructed them to do those things, too.

The acts of worship have meaning and purpose. They are not, however, satisfactory on their own. Like Jesus, we must become attuned to the needs of those near us — our neighbors, if you will — and act on that knowledge in a timely manner: do the actual work of worship.

Even if it causes a bit of aesthetic outrage along the way.


________________________
Photo: “Leading An Ox to Water” by Steve Orr

_________________________

READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 16 (21) (August 25, 2019)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//texts.php?id=276

Jeremiah 1:4-10
Psalm 71:1-6
Isaiah 58:9b-14
Psalm 103:1-8
Hebrews 12:18-29
Luke 13:10-17

_______________________

Join us Friday morning at Our Breakfast Place (formerly The Egg and I) for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast. An hour of food, scripture, and discussion starts at 8:00am. It’s a wonderful way to launch the weekend.

Blessings,
Steve

Miracle in Gaza? (A Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

Madeline L’Engle would likely call it a “wrinkle in time.” Perhaps Stephen King would call it a “thinny.” Gamers might want to term it a “gate” or “portal.” Einstein might call it a “space-time bridge.”

Whatever you call it, this was one of the stranger occurrences found it scripture.

The story in Acts chapter 8 begins a lot like other biblical stories: God instructs Philip to go southwest on the road from Jerusalem to Gaza, sometimes called the Wilderness Road. Along that road, Philip encounters a very important person riding in a chariot, a eunuch from Ethiopia. This eunuch is a court official of Ethiopia, in charge of Queen Candace’s entire treasury. He is returning home from recently worshipping in Jerusalem (Passover has just ended).

As Philip nears the moving chariot, he notes that the eunuch is reading aloud from what we would call Isaiah chapter 53. [You should stop, here, and go read that chapter before continuing on.] Most christians would recognize this passage of scripture as describing the last days and hours before Jesus died on the cross. But, when Philip asks the eunuch if he understands what he is reading, the fellow says, “How can I, unless someone guides me?”

The eunuch invites Philip to join him in the chariot. And then, as the chariot eats up the miles, traveling along that Wilderness Road into Gaza and on toward Ethiopia, Philip explains. Starting with this scripture, Philip proclaims to him the good news (gospel) of Jesus as the Messiah (Christ). After a while, now believing what Philip has been teaching about Jesus, the eunuch spies a body of water and says, "Look, here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptized?"

He commands the chariot to stop, then he and Philip enter the water and he is baptized by Philip.

Like I said, the story starts out pretty straight forward. God sends Philip. He meets and instructs the eunuch on a prophecy that tells of Jesus being the Christ. Finally, having now become a believer, the eunuch asks for and is baptized.

Here is where it gets a little strange.

As they are returning to dry land, “the Spirit of the Lord snatched Philip away; the eunuch saw him no more, and went on his way rejoicing. But Philip found himself at Azotus, and as he was passing through the region, he proclaimed the good news to all the towns until he came to Caesarea.”

Let me unpack that for you: Philip disappears right in front of the eunuch and then finds himself over 30 miles away in Azotus (a town situated west of Jerusalem, near the Mediterranean Sea).

Did God teleport Philip to his next assignment?

You will not be shocked to discover that scholars, of course, are divided on this. Was it a miraculous event or was Luke just describing a quick exit for Philip? But, this is hardly the only instance of such miraculous transportation in the Bible. Consider when Jesus appeared to His disciples as they were gathered, post crucifixion, in locked rooms. Jesus just appeared in the midst of them. I tend to agree with those who think it was a miraculous event, mostly because of the phrase, “the Spirit of the Lord snatched Philip away.” The original language there for “snatched” is the same as for the “rapture.” Sounds pretty miraculous to me.

But, what is the point of all this? I think our takeaway is really found in the “bookends” of the story. It begins with God sending Philip to proclaim the good news to someone. And how does it end? Apparently unaffected by his miraculous journey to Azotus, Philip just heads north and keeps on telling folks the good news about Jesus.

And isn't that always the point?

_________________________

PHOTO: https://curiosity.com/topics/theoretically-passing-through-space-and-time-in-a-wormhole-curiosity/

_________________________

READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Fifth Sunday of Easter (April 29, 2018)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//

Acts 8:26-40
Psalm 22:25-31
1 John 4:7-21
John 15:1-8
_________________________

Join us Friday morning at 8:00 for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast. We spend that hour in the function room of the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant eating, praying, discussing scripture, and enjoying each other’s company. Lotta laughter, too.

Blessings,
Steve

The Deep Blue Sea (a Lectionary reflection by Steve Orr)

We were miles out, and no matter which direction I turned, there was no land to be seen. I recall thinking, this shouldn't bother me . . . But it did.

I was born and raised in west Kentucky. Water was a big part of my life. Our town sat at the confluence of two long, navigable rivers; the Ohio and the Tennessee. We played down by the river; I learned to water-ski on that boisterous confluence; I first operated a small motorboat there. Plus, a short 20 miles southeast of us was one of America's great inland playgrounds, Kentucky Lake and Lake Barclay, with their 265 square miles of parkland: The Land Between The Lakes. I learned to swim in those lakes; boated on them, water-skied on them, camped on them.

But, at 20 years of age, I had never been "at sea." No matter what body of water, I had always been able to see land. Now, here we were, well out into the Gulf of Mexico, and there was nothing to see but water in every direction.

I confess, I didn't much care for it.

But, I didn't want to be rude. Our family friends had offered to take me out for a day of fishing and "picnicking." Every other part of that day was nice. Our onboard repast of cheese, fruit, sandwiches, and soft drinks was delicious. The company ---a retired grocer and his wife--- were warm, gentle, and fun. They were living a life-long dream: retire to Florida, buy a boat, fish in the gulf. This day, now a regular weekend experience for them, was their definition of perfect.

So, I swallowed my nervousness and incipient claustrophobia, tamped them down deep inside, and, catching some of their joy, plastered a genuine smile on my face.

Still.

The day moved along. Probably quickly for them; definitely slowly for me. We fished. We caught some. I was not surprised to discover, despite the lively movement of the boat, that I was not seasick. After all, I grew up on the water. Just not this water. And always, not stopping for a minute, was the question pinging around in my head, When will this be over?

The storm rose up early in the afternoon.

The grocer had gone below for a short, post-picnic nap. The grocer's wife and I pulled in the fishing lines ---Did I mention that neither she nor I knew how to operate the boat?--- Never taking my eyes off the mounting waves, I asked, with as much insouciance as I could muster, if we should wake her husband. She thought not; he had earned his rest. For her part, she seemed completely unaffected by the increased rocking of the boat, the tiny little whitecaps forming on the peaks of the choppy waves, and the darkening clouds rolling in from . . . Well, I had no idea which direction.

We sat. She chatted. I watched. The wind had become quite brisk before I heard the welcome sound of the hatch opening. The grocer emerged looking well rested. He looked up (the sky was growing darker). He looked out (the waves were growing higher). His eyes fell on the stored fishing gear. Then, as calm as you please, he said, "We should probably head back in." He was not concerned. He knew what to do.

I recall thinking, He's got this.

And that's when I finally relaxed. Oh, our return trip was bouncy, and windy, but I enjoyed it. Partly, because I knew we were headed ashore, but, mostly, because I was confident in his confidence. He was the master of the boat. He understood the relationship of the craft to the water. He knew how to take that vessel through the weather and on into the safety of the port.

Sometimes our lives take on similar dimensions. We find ourselves in a place where the "mighty waters" of life threaten; we're tossed about by the wind and the waves. But, no matter how far out we are, no matter how deep, we can take comfort. This week's Lectionary selection from Psalms 93 says: “The ocean depths raise their voice, O Lord; they raise their voice and roar. The Lord rules supreme in heaven, greater than the roar of the ocean, more powerful than the waves of the sea.” (Psalm‬ ‭93:3-4‬ ‭GNT‬‬)

The Lord is not disturbed by the high winds, the mounting waves, the darkening clouds. No matter the storms that arise on our journey through this life, we can have confidence in His confidence.

He's got this.
___________________________________

READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
http://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/

Reign of Christ - Proper 29 (34) (November 22, 2015)
First reading and Psalm
2 Samuel 23:1-7
Psalm 132:1-12, (13-18)
Alternate First reading and Psalm
Daniel 7:9-10, 13-14
Psalm 93
Second reading
Revelation 1:4b-8
Gospel
John 18:33-37
___________________________________

Will you be in Waco Friday morning? Join us for Lectionary Breakfast at the "Egg and I" restaurant from 8:00 to 9:00 for an hour like no other. The scriptures are fascinating, the food is tasty, and our fellow travelers are just the best. ☺️

Enjoy the week!
Steve

The Audience of God (a Lectionary reflection by Steve Orr)

We, the audience, had come from all across the United States to hear this choir sing, to see Dr. James Abbington lead, to absorb gospel standards and other pieces of black sacred music, to have our souls refreshed. Before us, high up in the choir area of the church sanctuary, stood a large, combined choir composed of folks from several local churches and from churches as far away as Fort Worth and Dallas; well-dressed men and women; dark suits, white shirts and ties, colorful scarves, long black dresses.

For the second night in a row, Dr. Abbington asked us, the audience, to become part of the show.

For those of us who had attended a far less formal gathering the night before, the announcement was not all that surprising. The previous night, after a full day of speakers and panels, leading scholars presenting and discussing on the state of black sacred music, those same scholars took to the stage. Accomplished musicians, all, they were expected to provide us with an evening of gospel greats.

And we were not disappointed.

As our performers for the evening arranged themselves around dual pianos, Dr. Abbington changed the dynamic. We found ourselves called on to sing.

Us. The audience.

I marveled at this. He seemed so certain we would just do as he said. What made him think we, the audience, would agree to this? Weren't WE supposed to be on the receiving end of all this?

But we did what he told us to do. We belted out "Oh Happy Day," "Marching to Zion," and "Every Praise (is to Our God)." Song after song, we sang. But that was not the end of it. Next, Dr. Abbington started calling people to come to the front to take the solo parts and the leads. In short order, there were more people standing between the lip of the stage and the front row than in the rest of the auditorium.

Now here we were, 24 hours later, and he was doing it again.

I was starting to think this was just a thing he liked to do, the way some rock stars like to tilt the microphone toward the audience so they can chime in on some parts. Maybe this was just his way.

Then he said something that put it all in perspective: "According to Kierkegaard, in church, God is the only audience; we are all participants in the worship."

While I think I have long had a similar understanding of worship, I've never heard it said quite that way: God is the only audience.

He is certainly the only audience that matters.

Moses forgot this. Angered at the bickering Israelites, he struck the rock with his staff to get the water they needed. In doing this, he disobeyed God's instruction to get that the water by speaking to the rock. And he paid the price. Afterwords, GOD said to Moses and Aaron, “Because you didn’t trust me, didn’t treat me with holy reverence in front of the People of Israel, you two aren’t going to lead this company into the land that I am giving them.” (‭Numbers‬ ‭20‬:‭12‬ MSG)

We are not, in fact, the audience. No matter where we sit or stand in the house of meeting, when we act as though we or someone else is the audience, we forget a basic truth about worship.

God is the only audience.
_________________________________

Selected from a reflection on "Marching to Zion, the Pruit Symposium on Black Sacred Music" [Baylor University, October 2014]
_________________________________

Something to keep in mind as we start the Advent season.

READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
http://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu

First Sunday of Advent (November 30, 2014)
Isaiah 64:1-9
Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19
1 Corinthians 1:3-9
Mark 13:24-37