In Between Sundays

"Postponing Life" - A Reflection from Martin B. Copenhaver

2010-01-28T14:30:00.000-06:00

Excerpt from Luke 12:16-21

"Then [the rich man] said, 'I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all of my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.' But God said to him, 'You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you.'"

Reflection by Martin B. Copenhaver

In the last decade of my father's life he developed an interest in wine. There is more to this hobby than you might imagine. My father would read about the many varieties and vintages and vineyards. When a wine was purchased, it was carefully stored and catalogued. Occasionally he would even drink the stuff. That was always an elaborate ceremony, beginning with uncorking the bottle, then tasting the wine to make sure it was suitable to serve, accompanied by florid comments about bouquet and body, descriptions that no one else understood fully or, frankly, cared much about.

When friends learned of my father's interest in wine, they would sometimes give him a special gift of a rare and costly bottle. I never remember those wines being served. He always said he was waiting for a special occasion. The occasion never came. When my father died -- "This very night your life is being demanded of you." -- those bottles remained unopened. I believe he intended to drink them and, oh, how he would have enjoyed the ceremony of it all. But special occasions, like tomorrow, seem never to arrive. As Ben Hecht put it, "Time is a circus that is always packing up and moving away."

Of course, the point is not that we should eat, drink, and be merry while we have a chance, even as that is not the point of Jesus' parable. Rather, the point is that if we postpone little pleasures at our peril, how much more perilous is our tendency to put off doing what is truly important in life.

Prayer

Dear God, don't let me use the future as the repository of all that is good and worthy. That is, help me to live fully in the only day in which I can live -- today. Amen.

About the Author

Martin B. Copenhaver is Senior Pastor, Wellesley Congregational Church, United Church of Christ, Wellesley, Massachusetts. His new book, This Odd and Wondrous Calling: the Public and Private Lives of Two Ministers, co-authored with Lillian Daniel, has just been published.

"Habitat for Divinity"

2010-01-27T09:47:00.001-06:00

2 Samuel 7:5-6
“Go and tell my servant David: Thus says the Lord: Are you the one to build me a house to live in? I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel from Egypt to this day, but I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle.”

Matthew 13:1-8
"[Jesus] told them many things in parables, saying: ‘Listen! A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seeds fell on the path, and the birds came and ate them up. Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and they sprang up quickly, since they had no depth of soil. But when the sun rose, they were scorched; and since they had no root, they withered away. Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty."

In the days of King David there was a need for rootedness, for the house of God to be made more permanent than an ark borne in a tent by a wandering people. Yet what became fixed was mobilized again by Jesus' reminder that the only permanent habitat for Divinity was in the hearts of human beings, putting the work on us to prepare ourselves to house the truth of God.

How will we create a space worthy of Divine abiding? When the "seeds" of God's truth are sown on us, will be protected by good soil or become blanched by the harshness of life? Will they be overgrown by other concerns or find the nourishment they need to bear fruit? God still requires rootedness - how's our soul's soil?

Rev. James goes to Washington . . . ish.

2009-03-04T10:57:00.007-06:00

I'll lead with the moral of the story:

"Sometimes, when you're nice to random strangers, they remember you later and ask you to do highly public and moderately important things."

Such was my experience when I was a) nice to a local senator (I didn't know who he was) when he came through the hand-shaking line at church and b) nice to his clerk when I visited him in the hospital after surgery (I didn't know who he was, either).

And so I was invited to give the prayer before the opening of the State Legislature last Wednesday. This is an honor on par with ringing the opening bell on Wall Street. Ok, not "on par with," but similar to in the sense that a) they have someone do it every day, and b) you only get noticed if you screw up.

So I showed up in an appropriately serious suit (which I discovered during my time there had a nice little hole in the leg, so if anyone had really great vision and the right angle they got not only a prayer, but about a quarter inch square of man-thigh) and took pictures with people I would later discover were of genuine political significance. They were wonderfully gracious and welcoming:

Step 1: After a short tour I was seated in a chair (you can't really see it in the picture) that was far too big for me, which led me to wonder: Which makes you more self-conscious - sitting in a chair that is far too small, like in a kindergarten classroom, or in a chair that is too big, like you're saving it because your giant friend is in the bathroom? Here I am pondering that:

Step 2 ("I thought we'd be dead by step two, so this is going great!"): After a one-sentence introduction about how the day was, in the Christian tradition, Ash Wednesday, I offered a prayer:

"Holy and Gracious God, Eternal Spirit: We call you by many different names and recognize you in many different forms and places. Yet we come before you today with our common work to do, our common work of service to the people of our communities. As we set our hearts and minds to that work, we ask that you grant us faith in the face of uncertainty, the courage for honesty, the insight for growth, a passion for justice, the patience for peacemaking, the grace for compromise, suspicion of the promises of power, the discipline of mind and generosity of spirit that have always led to meaningful, sustained, flourishing and abundant life. Amen."

Here I am saying that. Note that this prayer was making people (left to right, respectively) tired, amused, and confused/angry, which is actually a pretty accurate cross-section of the reactions I usually get when I speak out loud.

All told, it was a wonderful experience, actually. I'm always afraid that inclusive, ecumenical prayers will end up being simply lukewarm, generic niceties, but this, in the moment at least, sounded and felt right. I'm very grateful for the opportunity - it was a neat forum.

Next time, though, I'm going fire-and-brimstone; I want my name in the paper.

One Naked Baby, Two Goofy Parents, Three . . .

2009-03-01T14:48:00.003-06:00

Click on the link below to watch the video. Enjoy!

(The first part is about a book we read called "Little Indian Two Feet," about a little boy who has no horse and so has to "walk, walk, walk").

Cue the Music . . .

2009-02-22T14:06:00.001-06:00

Follow this link:

http://www.andrealenejames.com/Listen.html

and click on the song you want to hear.

Good news / Bad news

2009-02-22T13:15:00.002-06:00

The good news: The Augustana Choir just came to town, two miles from where we live. We went, we heard, we took home some college kids (don't worry, we returned them). Besides an incredible concert, we also received a CD: a compilation of Augie choirs 2003-2007 - and we're on there! Frequently! I had hoped to augment this blog by posting the music, but I can't. I'll have to find a way to get these recordings to you all. But they include some of my all-time dream favorites.

Among them is Franz Beibel's (sp?) Ave Maria, sung as an all-men's piece, and Angus Dei, a choral adaptation of Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings (which includes an AnDrea Dunn solo). And Isaiah just fell asleep on my shoulder as we sat and listened to them.

The bad news: I'm pretty sure life is downhill from here.

A Transfiguration Prayer

2009-02-22T10:31:00.003-06:00

Holy One, we thank you for this day and for this time together. We are reminded this morning of the preciousness of life, the life that everywhere surrounds us and dwells within us, yet remains so fragile in every form.

We thank you for the ways in which you are revealed through that life. As we see you revealed in acts of giving that quell anxiety, acts of hospitality and welcome that break down barriers, acts of generosity that shake off fear, we are reminded that you are a God that broke down all barriers that keep us apart, a God who seeks healing, wholeness and reconciliation.

As we see you revealed in the face of the suffering, the oppressed, as we are moved by compassion and angered by injustice, we are reminded that you are call us as peacemakers, those who will work to conform the world to the plumb line of justice.

As we see you revealed in beauty, in nature, in the voices of our children singing, in loving relationships of all kinds, when the most ordinary elements of our lives begin to glow sacred, we are reminded that you are a God who wishes for us an abundant life of great promise.

As Jesus is transfigured and so reveals you, so may we be transformed to do the same. Amen.

Nothing New Under the Sun

2009-02-11T17:31:00.006-06:00

Thus spaketh me, in response to a great Brian Mclaren book, Finding Our Way Again. The book looks at the challenges within Christianity today (increasing social marginalization, increasing diversity, decreasing membership, increasing apathy from within and without, etc.) and says, as so many have said before, that the Church's future may well be in its past:

"Those who reject religion," he argues, "are often rejecting a certain arid system of belief, or, if not that, a set of trivial taboos or rules or rituals that have lost meaning for them - each the thin residue of a lost way of life."

The solution? The rediscovery of that Christian way of life, the spiritual practices that restore "sacred normalcy to the rhythms of life." He cites seven practices as commonly held amongst the Abrahamic faiths (Judaism, Christianity and Islam, in chronological order): Fixed hour prayer, fasting, Sabbath, the sacred meal, pilgrimage, observance of sacred seasons, and giving.

"The challenge of the future," he says, "will require, we realize, rediscovery and adaptive reuse of resources from the ancient past. He proposes a vision of a "fourth way . . . [reaching] toward an alternative beyond a reductionist secularism, beyond a reactive and intransigent fundamentalism, and beyond a vague, consumerist spirituality." This way of life, he argues, is not only faithful, it is compelling and timeless.

I say "nothing new under the sun," (a quote from Ecclesiastes 1:9), because this is such a perpetual pattern of the church. A few examples come to mind (though there are many more):

In the fourth and fifth century, when Christianity became accepted by, and subsequently enmeshed with, Roman political authority, many Christians self-exiled to the desert and formed monastic communities (some of which persist in some form), reclaiming the marginal, alternative existence most appropriate to those with the good news that the kingdom of God is encroaching upon the world.

During the Reformations of the 16th and 17th centuries, many felt that Christianity's evolution to Christendom was a betrayal of God's truest self-revelation: a Christ who came in fragile form, preaching and healing, serving and suffering. Jesus betrayed all expectation for the Messiah who would restore God's chosen people to power, yet the Church who bore his name was obsessed with it's own political, economic, social and spiritual power. And so the Reformers called the future church to the form and function of the ancient church, looking to the authority of Scripture and the inspiration of the Holy Spirit for guidance. (Were they successful? Well, that's a doozy of a question for another time).

The point is, the impulse is there and the pattern is familiar. There was something frighteningly compelling about the early Christians, who were, by all accounts, neither rich nor popular nor powerful. What they had, under the best of circumstances, was a way of life, rooted in Jewish tradition but flourishing in diverse ways. And this way of life was compelling enough to grow from an obscure movement to a global community that outlives every empire it encounters.

The question is (as I see it), Do we have the conviction to (again) make this "fourth way" viable, living deeply into our tradition, adopting Christianity as a way of life, even as it may well move us to the margins, not just of society, but of Christianity itself?

An Addendum, with apology photo

2009-02-10T16:49:00.002-06:00

Hello all,

My last post turned out to be confusing (it was a new thing for me). It was a video (which I realize I never said), and to view it, you needed to click on the inbetweensundays link on the bottom of your email, and maybe sign in (which you all should be able to do). Any other issues, let me know, and I'll try to figure out ways to make that more accessible.

By way of amends-making, enjoy this picture of the pure bliss that running down a hill can bring after being inside all winter:

Back to the future . . .

2009-02-08T19:16:00.003-06:00

A flash, perhaps, of Isaiah's future sullen teenage years? Or just a guy finding his pockets? Enjoy deciding . . .

Some pictures . . .

2009-02-07T21:09:00.005-06:00

We've had some wonderfully melty days lately, so we've been able to be out and about. Here are a couple highlights, made possible by a wonderful Christmas gift (a digital camera)!

Almost a Post

2009-02-02T21:03:00.002-06:00

Well, here I am, poised to post great thoughts, when all of a sudden the clock begins to chime "pumpkin time". So, the better part of valor says, "Maybe next time; a good night's sleep is worth a lot."

It occured to me while running . . .

2008-09-22T09:33:00.002-05:00

That faith, like endurance, is not something we create, but rather, by continually pushing ourselves to the limits of our ability, we discover, when life next requires it, that there has been created in us a greater capacity for it.

In other words, we are actively involved in the process of growth, but we don't actually make it happen. Insert also patience, love, grace, compassion, etc. The same also applies to competitive eating, I'm pretty sure.

Other thoughts: Its a good thing I don't believe in signs. A bird dropped dead out of the sky and landed next to us the other day when we were walking. Omens Shmomens. But I switched my deodorant just in case.

New Poem

2008-09-19T14:58:00.002-05:00

Grace of Consequence

One cicada, twitching, dying, freezing on September ground
Back-trapped and splayed, exposed, yet breathing clicking, incoherent sounds

His outer crust was flake and air; his wings had shriveled, frayed and torn
I nearly passed him by, unblinking, exposing where my crust is worn

Did I, by stopping, noting, naming, channel grace of consequence
or is such spirit lost on those devoid of common, living sense?

Did Creation shudder, quicken, for a moment hold her breath
or laugh at my unique concern for public, unregarded death?

Back to Egypt . . .

2008-09-16T13:46:00.004-05:00

I think I hate politics . . . yep, I do. This is now beyond the naive realm of "OMG! People lie and manipulate? People can't form a thought beyond the most superficial party rhetoric? The supposed "change" artist and great unifier, the one who will rise above the pettiness of politics, runs demonizing, shallow and ageist campaign commericals? People keep lying?

(I'll try, for the record, to be as balanced as possible in criticism; there's no way to get it all in).

Instead, it is what politics does to me, and how politics makes me begin to view people. I get cynical and depressed and begin to view people as either guilt-free manipulators or willingly led fanatical sheep (both a far cry from the fullness of the human being we're meant to be mindful of as Christians). I despair at the hypocrisies of power and remember the old cliche about the fact that I wouldn't want anyone who would want to be president to be president. I hear a lot of griping about this, actually (internally and externally). But what's worst is when I think a lot of people actually like it.

Or, perhaps don't like it, but are attached to it. We studied today the book of Exodus (16:1 and following - the Israelites wandering in the wilderness). The Israelites complain, after their great liberation, about how they long for Egypt, now that the insecurity of the wilderness has settled in. They were attached to slavery because it gave things to them. It gave them security: they knew where there daily bread was coming from, even if it came at the cost of their dignity and freedom. And it gave them identity: they were victims together, self-identified by their oppression. Living as a maturing and free chosen people of a God they were getting to know made deeper demands on them; they were asked for trust, loyalty, intimacy. They were asked to endure, to be unpreoccupied, to be uncertain, to be patient.

Two-party politics seems to create a similar attachment (addiction). It gives us security in the familiar and routine, even if it disrespects all of us. As long as we know we're the good guys and they're the bad guys, as long as it's "gay-hating" conservatives vs. the "baby-killing" liberals, we all can feel safely on God and country's side.

And it gives us identity: loyalties (however incongruous or contradictory) help define us and those (un)like us. We get to know ourselves over and against the other. The more we are irresponsibly certain about the other, the more irresponsibly certain we can be about ourselves.

And we can't overlook the power of the familiar. "Here we are again," says the family at each others throats, trying to plan a funeral for a dead parent, "This is just like us - it feels good to be home." "That's how we've always done it," says the school, refusing to have a racially integrated prom in 2007 .

All in all, people are preferring (to adapt another proverb) the devil they know to the God they don't. If people want to be unthinkingly reactive to football and baseball, great. But in politics, too much is at stake. And it burns me, but we're back in Egypt for a season.

A Resurrection!

2008-09-12T14:18:00.003-05:00

Of a blog, at least. AnDrea and I have a definition of maturity that goes something like this: Maturity is the process during which we figure out what is life-giving and what is not, we commit more frequently and fully to that which is life-giving, and, when we inevitably get off track, we recognize it and return to what is life-giving more quickly. Or, shorter: increased time with what is good with shorter breaks in between.

That's the story of this blog. I hope to write more often (writing disciplines thought, I'm told, and right now I'm reading so many childrens' books I'm starting to think in rhymes). So that's the purely self-interested discipline aspect of it.

The second is that I'm growing increasingly impatient with how dialogue occurs in our public settings. And I, like any good child of this generation, respond to this growing dissatisfaction by typing. Yes, I think, my voice will be heard loud and clear, and my drop in the infinite ocean of cyberspace must influence the tides.

But, I return to the nagging truth of faith: if not you, then who? If not here and now, then where and when? So I invite you all back to chime in.

Plus I just think I figured out how to get it to email you all when I post. If so, great, because checking the blog just in case someone posted is really annoying.

2007-08-06T11:02:00.000-05:00

Hello!

Plymouth Church is celebrating its 150th anniversary this year, and they're commissioning a hymn for the occasion. So I'm entering the contest! (just for some creative fun). So here are some couplets, in no particular order, in really rough form. So I thought I'd share them so you could help me find which are diamonds in the rough and which are just gravel. It was written for the tune to "I Sing the Mighty Power of God," but it works with many other tunes, obviously (14 syllables per line).

There are also some lonely one-liners in search of a partner. Help them find their match! Anyway, maybe just a fun project. Suggestions are welcome (as well as brand new couplets and verses, tunes, etc.)!

We gather as the Church of God, at one within this place

The love of God extends to all of every tongue and race

The Spirit searches every heart and grows what God’s begun,

We echo forth resounding praise of all that God has done

For generations come and gone, we give God thanks and praise

May others reap the harvest home, the fruits of all our days.

The earth upon which we have built is but a borrowed land

That testifies each day anew to God’s creative hand

The mighty oaks that tower above were from an acorn sprung

New hope peals o’er the rolling hills each time the bells are rung

(So worlds are formed by faithful lips in every hymn we’ve sung)

(And seeds are planted by our lips with every hymn we’ve sung)

As members in our midst have grown in love and servanthood

So God sparks fire in every heart and moves our minds for good

The graceful bird that shares its song, God calls each one by name

So we are known and loved and called . . .

We bring to You our doubts and fears that plague us still today

We know that out of deepest night breaks every glorious day

We know amid the twists and turns you still remain The Way,

The Shepherd kind, the Shepherd strong that seeks us when we stray.

those gone astray.

Until that day when we shall walk where angels’ feet have trod

We live in love, unite to serve our neighbors and our God

The faithful soul needs only this: the still small voice of God

The spirit of our God

The peace of living well.

The holy peace of God .

The quiet or chaotic space where God is seen and heard.

The life or death, the peace or war, the common and absurd.

Each brings to mind what God has done, and what is left to do,

We join in God’s creative work, as we are made anew.

Who conquers chaos with a Word and carves a space for life.

A little inspirational nugget for a Monday

2007-07-16T07:55:00.000-05:00

I'm (slowly) reading C.S. Lewis's 'The Four Loves', courtesy of my friend Gina. It's obvious that every word he writes in this book is so thoughtfully written that I have to take special care with my reading so I can absorb it all, not just simply skim. There's one small paragraph that I like to read over and over because it rejuvinates my faith so completely everytime I read it. So I thought I'd share it with you!

"But in the long run it is perhaps even more apparent in our growing - for it ought to be growing - awareness that our whole being by its very nature is one vast need; incomplete, preparatory, empty yet cluttered, crying out for Him who can untie things that are now knotted together and tie up things that are still dangling loose."

I hope this finds a little section of your hearts this Monday morning and gives it a little burst of spiritual energy (in the "enthusiasm for God" sense, rather than the "fung shui arrangement of furniture" sense) in knowing that we are loved by "Him who can untie things that are now knotted together and tie up things that are still dangling loose."

Who's the Good Samaritan?

2007-07-11T11:13:00.000-05:00

In Aaron's most recent comment, he indicated the text for his upcoming sermon is the Good Samaritan story. One of my favorite reflections for this (and other) texts is: "Where am I in the story, and where is God?". I think it's fairly typical to not want to admit being the hypocritical religious folks who walk on by. Yet I think it's presumptuous to believe we're the Good Samaritan, willing to make an unconditional sacrifice for a stranger/enemy in need. Rather, I think, we are the man beaten by the world and left for dead, yet saved by the grace of God (in the person of the Samaritan in the story and of Jesus in reality). Certainly we are called to emulate the Samaritan, as Jesus instructs his disciples to love one another as he has loved them. However, I believe being a "neighbor" (as in the "love thy neighbor" sense of the text that kicks off the story) is borne out of the grateful acknowledgement that we are already accepted by the one who has provided all we need for our recovery.

2007-07-08T07:27:00.000-05:00

I don't know why I can't enter a title for this, but here it is:

I was visiting with one of the new teachers at school the other day and we began a discussion about religion/faith issues related to her nearly-grown children and their moving toward a more agnostic position than they were raised to believe. What I want to comment on isn't the "answer" to her issue or the specifics of our conversation, but rather my thought that it is in these "chance" encounters where we choose to engage with one another over faith issues instead of avoiding them that God acts more obviously to enrich, enlarge, and illuminate our understanding ("where two or more are gathered in my name..."). It seems to me that, in addition to developing a discipline related to Bible study, worship attendance, or prayer, we should be more diligent in looking for and being open to those opportunities for God to speak to us in and through conversations with others.

Interesting Service

2007-06-26T13:18:00.001-05:00

Well, first things first. I'm going to try to re-invite you all to be authors in the blog, and if you create a Google account (for which you only need a previous email address), then you should be able to sign in and post and comment. If not, I'll figure out why not and fix it! Thanks for trying!

I did an interesting service the other day. It was an interment service (graveside, burying ashes). The family described themselves as "Jewish-ish" in a sort of secular-humanist kind of way. However, they sought out clergy from Plymouth because they wanted (I suppose) a spiritual "marking" of this process. Oh, and no "Jesus stuff." So of course, I led off with "I am the resurrection and the life . . ." Just kidding. Instead, we created a service together, and I was able to open and close with an ecumenical prayer, tailored to the situation, and offer some words (2-3 minutes) about the interconnectedness and significance of our lives, and the importance of living life with a generous and unifying spirit that pointed to a meaning beyond our life. They were given a chance to share memories and offer words of thanks. All told, it was an appropriate and meaningful experience.

Of course, this situation raised many questions, but the two main dynamics at work are my faith that a relationship with God through Christ defines (or should define) our lives and the general ministerial instinct to meet people where they are and meet their unique needs. Life, of course, can't be a constant dance of adapting to make other people happy (or keep them from being uncomfortable); on the other hand, overly rigid principles or dogmatics create artificial barriers to relationship with people who may not share your worldview.

So I guess the question is: Where is the line? Did I do a disservice to my role and my faith by "watering down" the message, even eliminating any language of Christ from the service? Or am I better off embodying my faith in deed rather than word by caring for the spiritual needs of people wherever they happen to be, trusting that God will work through every relationship?

Any thoughts?

Hello!

2007-06-22T09:27:00.000-05:00

Question for you all: Can someone try posting something? I've seen that a few people have commented (thank you!), but I'm not sure if you all can post something new or not. Obviously, I'd like us to all be able to post, so please let me know (preferably by posting something interesting - if not, something boring will work).
And to make this all worthwhile - a new picture!

Ordination Reflections

2007-06-21T11:29:00.000-05:00

Thank you all for this past weekend. I thought I understood it at the time, but I'm only beginning to realize what a unique and special time it was. I'd say once-in-a-lifetime, but as Kate and Dad said, it's more rare than that, really.

People asked me if I felt different afterward, as though I was changed somehow. Well, yes and no. In important ways, I'm the same today as I was Sunday, and was the week before. On the other hand, I feel incredibly freed. Much like getting married, there is the intense relief of "being there." Not that the journey is over (it's only beginning), but we are truly on our way. No more preparation, warm-up, anticipation. No more "Well, I'm on my way to becoming a minister, once I do ABC." Just as it was frustrating to speak of our significant others as "Oh, this is my girlfriend/fiancee, etc.," and a relief to finally say "This is my wife," it's nice to say "I'm a minister."

I was also really encouraged this weekend because we returned to the "basics," and I was reminded (in some cases, for the first time) why I endeavored on this path in the first place. John Danner speaking about seeing treasure in every person and drawing all to new life in God, Mich Zeman reminding me to seek out and receive the blessings of relationships, literature, art, etc. so that I might in turn bless those around me; I couldn't help thinking "Oh yeah - that's what this is about!" Its not just about appropriate emotional detachment from churches in conflict, keeping doors open and windows cleared to avoid getting sued, and addicts and molesters who seek out the church because it's the last bastion of an idealistic, trusting culture. These are all important cautions, of course, and they'll help me as I go, but wow, can they turn a person cynical pretty quick (and I'm always teetering on the brink anyway).

Anyway, thank you all for being there. More thoughts to follow.

Aaron

Intro

2007-06-21T11:15:00.001-05:00

Again, Hi! This is just an initial entry to get the feel for how this works. Welcome! Maybe this is a way we can all get in on some good conversations. Talk to you all soon!

Aaron