Do you think Friday Night Lights is a show about football? Think again. Football is part of the story, but FNL is about relationships. A creative culture makes it happen.
FNL makes its last hurrah as a current television series this Friday night. I'm not sure I've mourned the end of a series as much as this one. I admire the show for its passion and its creative process--and how a culture was created that facilitated and encouraged the creative process. This culture inspires me as a pastor. I hope that I can facilitate such a culture in the congregation and community I serve. Creation (not the "Intelligent Design" brand) is a theological foundation for me.
For a peek into the creative culture of Friday Night Lights, check out this oral history of FNL in Grantland (and if you haven't read Grantland yet, I commend it to you for writing on culture and sport that is moving far ahead of what any periodical is offering on similar topics).
Though the church has a history of inspiring creativity, the history is also long on burying creativity. Several teachers in seminary that I respect taught me an understanding of church based on replication. I took that teaching at face value for awhile. While there are some essentials in the life of the church to be replicated (and these things have been debated since Jesus arose from the dead), I believe much is up for creative interpretation. There are numerous periods in the life of the church where creativity has been squashed for a variety of reasons. This has happened and continues to occur in Mainline Protestant traditions. Even when there are wellsprings of creativity, these wellsprings are quickly institutionalized and become their own turf wars (see "contemporary" worship).
Mainline Protestant traditions were able to spread because of replication (plenty of cookie cutter church architecture out there). What else spreads because of replication? Chain restaurants. One may be able to get survival nutrition from a chain restaurant, but can people thrive? I have great hope to encourage a congregational culture where encouraging creativity is foundational to our relationship with God and one another. To me, this seems to be connected to the Great Commission: Where Jesus said, Go! Make disciples! Baptize! I am with you.
This is a creative directive from Jesus, with encouragement to go with it.
Encouraging creativity is contagious. The motto shared by Coach Taylor with his players and supporters: "Clear eyes. Full hearts. Can't lose." Though Taylor had some "my way or the highway" methodology to coaching--he always took into account the gifts and individual situations of his players (sometimes learning the hard way), which was linked to the creative process of the series. I love thinking about this in a community of faith.
Kyle Chandler, who plays Coach Taylor on FNL, talks about how that creativity spread from the show to a basic interaction in his life:
Chandler: I was back home in Los Angeles and we wanted to put a gate up in our yard. The fella came over and said, "Mr. Chandler, how do you want me to build this?" I said, "I'm not going to tell you how to build this gate. You just look around at what's here, and you build the best gate you can. Be as creative as you want. Take your time, and just give me a good gate." That gate's probably going to stand for 400 years.
Showing posts with label TV. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TV. Show all posts
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
After the Vigil: Imagining Ministry Location
One of the last places I ever thought I would "do" ministry was at Wal-Mart. Over the years I've heard other ministry stretches. Laundromats, baseball games, red light districts, and state fairs (to name a few) are places colleagues have gone in the name of outreach, and ministry "beyond the building."
I'm not against any of the aforementioned places as venues for spiritual connection. Sometimes my imagination limits me in what kind of connection can be made with God and others. Limits on ministry sites have more to do with my lack of imagination than appropriateness of locale. I ascribe to the observation that we don't have many stories of Jesus in the worship space or the education wing of the local synagogue in the Gospels--therefore I try to imagine places outside the church building for connection with God and others. That is the example we have from Jesus. Sometimes it takes a prompt from the Spirit to recognize the opportunity.
When my colleague, Sarah Roemer, from Spirit of Life Lutheran Church (Port Orchard/Olalla) and I talked about response to the shooting in Port Orchard about 1 month ago, we considered hosting a vigil at a church (Or maybe only I really did. Which one?). The church building then seemed like the wrong place to be. Sarah moved us toward meeting at the Wal-Mart parking lot, at the site of the shooting. Pastor Sarah met with the Wal-Mart management for permission, I started getting the word out. Monday night, Wal-Mart parking lot, candlelight vigil. None of the things that made worship comfortable for me were present, and my blood pressure raised. Before long, a few tweets marked by the hashtag #POShooting gave us phone calls from local news outlets, and big portion of the vigil promotion was handled by television.
I had an interesting conversation with a reporter about the frequency of vigils in television news coverage. If you're in this line of work (television journalism)you end up covering a lot of vigils, especially the night shift, he told me. I turned that statement over in my mind all Monday afternoon. One might think that with all the vigils in response to violence, that violence would subside, or that people might question the importance of vigils.
Why do a vigil?
The section in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew with the beatitudes seemed appropriate for the vigil: blessed are those who mourn...
That part was easy, but I continued reading. "You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven (Matthew 5: 14-16 NRSV)."
Light in Jesus' statement is a given for his followers. We ARE the light of the world. The vigil was an opportunity to share light. In gathering together at the sight of the violence, people had an opportunity to overcome their fear and reclaim the space for peaceful gathering and living. Even at a Wal-Mart parking lot. Even when appearances say that vigils don't matter. I know that vigils do matter. My imagination was tweaked that chilly, rainy Monday evening. The time was not comfortable, the place was not comfortable, but it was a common, public space where fear abated and the light of Christ was shared.
I'm not against any of the aforementioned places as venues for spiritual connection. Sometimes my imagination limits me in what kind of connection can be made with God and others. Limits on ministry sites have more to do with my lack of imagination than appropriateness of locale. I ascribe to the observation that we don't have many stories of Jesus in the worship space or the education wing of the local synagogue in the Gospels--therefore I try to imagine places outside the church building for connection with God and others. That is the example we have from Jesus. Sometimes it takes a prompt from the Spirit to recognize the opportunity.
When my colleague, Sarah Roemer, from Spirit of Life Lutheran Church (Port Orchard/Olalla) and I talked about response to the shooting in Port Orchard about 1 month ago, we considered hosting a vigil at a church (Or maybe only I really did. Which one?). The church building then seemed like the wrong place to be. Sarah moved us toward meeting at the Wal-Mart parking lot, at the site of the shooting. Pastor Sarah met with the Wal-Mart management for permission, I started getting the word out. Monday night, Wal-Mart parking lot, candlelight vigil. None of the things that made worship comfortable for me were present, and my blood pressure raised. Before long, a few tweets marked by the hashtag #POShooting gave us phone calls from local news outlets, and big portion of the vigil promotion was handled by television.
I had an interesting conversation with a reporter about the frequency of vigils in television news coverage. If you're in this line of work (television journalism)you end up covering a lot of vigils, especially the night shift, he told me. I turned that statement over in my mind all Monday afternoon. One might think that with all the vigils in response to violence, that violence would subside, or that people might question the importance of vigils.
Why do a vigil?
The section in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew with the beatitudes seemed appropriate for the vigil: blessed are those who mourn...
That part was easy, but I continued reading. "You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven (Matthew 5: 14-16 NRSV)."
Light in Jesus' statement is a given for his followers. We ARE the light of the world. The vigil was an opportunity to share light. In gathering together at the sight of the violence, people had an opportunity to overcome their fear and reclaim the space for peaceful gathering and living. Even at a Wal-Mart parking lot. Even when appearances say that vigils don't matter. I know that vigils do matter. My imagination was tweaked that chilly, rainy Monday evening. The time was not comfortable, the place was not comfortable, but it was a common, public space where fear abated and the light of Christ was shared.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Another untimely review: The Social Network
I am late to the Facebook party. For a few months, I've been a wallflower at the Facebook party, content to dance with my wife, who is my date to this party. To this party, I have brought a book, and a lot of other things to do.
Just because I'm not participating in the party does not mean I'm not interested in what is going on. I'm intrigued by the theories behind the interaction and relationships. I'm annoyed that social media is criticized for being a network of faux relationships. People are going to use Facebook, Twitter and the like, and the methodology of these relationships will evolve. I will do my best to observe the qualities of these interactions and offer theological and social science perspectives with as open a mind as possible. I'm not really sure Facebook is for me. I find the Facebook platform a bit overwhelming, like I felt about dances in high school and college. I have been a bit defiant about Facebook over the past two years, but I've chosen to be more of a curious observer and student of the platform rather than an outspoken critic.
The movie The Social Network has changed my perspective enough that I am willing to learn more about Facebook. I got to that point through the review of Ann Hornaday of the Washington Post. I enjoy her film reviews with Tony Kornheiser on Fridays, and her praise of The Social Network caused me to reflect on my relationship with social media more deeply. Rather than see Facebook as a mere toy, time-passer, or cultural fad, watching the film gave me a deeper sense of the connection between communication, relationships and commerce. We all make choices about our communication methodology. The call for a Christian is to discern how to make the way we communicate a reflection of the grace we have received. In that sense, Facebook is value neutral. However, the Social Network does not make any of the main characters, or even the folks with the bit parts look good. No character is glorified. What I find compelling is the craft and intelligence behind the platform, and what sin can do to any method of communication. The Social Network is driven by story and script writing (skillfully and enjoyably executed), and not reliant on the cache of the actors (though I agree with Hornaday that their skill should be recognized). For any student of human relationships and talents, The Social Network is a positive investment of your time.
If you think that The Social Network is not worth your time, at least learn from this review that the wallflowers at the party will go on observing while others are partying it up.
Just because I'm not participating in the party does not mean I'm not interested in what is going on. I'm intrigued by the theories behind the interaction and relationships. I'm annoyed that social media is criticized for being a network of faux relationships. People are going to use Facebook, Twitter and the like, and the methodology of these relationships will evolve. I will do my best to observe the qualities of these interactions and offer theological and social science perspectives with as open a mind as possible. I'm not really sure Facebook is for me. I find the Facebook platform a bit overwhelming, like I felt about dances in high school and college. I have been a bit defiant about Facebook over the past two years, but I've chosen to be more of a curious observer and student of the platform rather than an outspoken critic.
The movie The Social Network has changed my perspective enough that I am willing to learn more about Facebook. I got to that point through the review of Ann Hornaday of the Washington Post. I enjoy her film reviews with Tony Kornheiser on Fridays, and her praise of The Social Network caused me to reflect on my relationship with social media more deeply. Rather than see Facebook as a mere toy, time-passer, or cultural fad, watching the film gave me a deeper sense of the connection between communication, relationships and commerce. We all make choices about our communication methodology. The call for a Christian is to discern how to make the way we communicate a reflection of the grace we have received. In that sense, Facebook is value neutral. However, the Social Network does not make any of the main characters, or even the folks with the bit parts look good. No character is glorified. What I find compelling is the craft and intelligence behind the platform, and what sin can do to any method of communication. The Social Network is driven by story and script writing (skillfully and enjoyably executed), and not reliant on the cache of the actors (though I agree with Hornaday that their skill should be recognized). For any student of human relationships and talents, The Social Network is a positive investment of your time.
If you think that The Social Network is not worth your time, at least learn from this review that the wallflowers at the party will go on observing while others are partying it up.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
"Risky Business" + "Old School" = Transformation: Reminder Equation for Congregations
I receive inspiration from stories of changed lives through innovation.
Boarding schools in theory aren't innovative, but a public boarding charter school in Washington, D.C. (featured on "60 Minutes"), is innovative because it creates opportunities for change and success for youth at risk in the city. Children aren't required to attend the Seed School in SE Washington, they go by choice and application. Students are awarded admission via lottery.
Without realizing it until today, the common thread in my most recent posts is the importance of safety in order to thrive. For congregational meetings, a safe place through boundaries should be fostered in order that all parties have the opportunity to speak. For cities to thrive culturally and economically, citizens need to feel safe. For children to concentrate on their learn at school, they need to feel safe. The threat of violence, public ridicule, or humiliation can drive and group toward paralyzing anxiety. But no system of safety is impermeable. Safety is not the only issue, as healthy social situations balance both safety and risk. Two business people recognized the creative tension of working with safety and risk, and an innovative educational model birthed.
What I find compelling about the school is the testimonials and results of the students and the entrepreneurial acumen of the school's founders, gathering both public and private money to build the school. Kids and families opened the emotional vault for anything related to The Seed School. The Seed School also has a track record of success in test scores and college placement. Is the school perfect? No. But the school raised the bar for education, caused reflection on education practices, and changed the lives of dozens of inner-city children. What a wondrous blending of public and private funds and energy.
Sometimes I see that congregations lose sight of the fact that changed lives and transformation is at the root of Christian witness. Grace matters. Mercy matters. Forgiveness matters. So much energy is wasted on maintaining the status quo in congregations that it's easy to forget that transformation is the raison d'etre of the church. Thank you Seed School for reminding me about the goal of transformation and the thought and action processes behind creating a culture of transformation.
Boarding schools in theory aren't innovative, but a public boarding charter school in Washington, D.C. (featured on "60 Minutes"), is innovative because it creates opportunities for change and success for youth at risk in the city. Children aren't required to attend the Seed School in SE Washington, they go by choice and application. Students are awarded admission via lottery.
Without realizing it until today, the common thread in my most recent posts is the importance of safety in order to thrive. For congregational meetings, a safe place through boundaries should be fostered in order that all parties have the opportunity to speak. For cities to thrive culturally and economically, citizens need to feel safe. For children to concentrate on their learn at school, they need to feel safe. The threat of violence, public ridicule, or humiliation can drive and group toward paralyzing anxiety. But no system of safety is impermeable. Safety is not the only issue, as healthy social situations balance both safety and risk. Two business people recognized the creative tension of working with safety and risk, and an innovative educational model birthed.
What I find compelling about the school is the testimonials and results of the students and the entrepreneurial acumen of the school's founders, gathering both public and private money to build the school. Kids and families opened the emotional vault for anything related to The Seed School. The Seed School also has a track record of success in test scores and college placement. Is the school perfect? No. But the school raised the bar for education, caused reflection on education practices, and changed the lives of dozens of inner-city children. What a wondrous blending of public and private funds and energy.
Sometimes I see that congregations lose sight of the fact that changed lives and transformation is at the root of Christian witness. Grace matters. Mercy matters. Forgiveness matters. So much energy is wasted on maintaining the status quo in congregations that it's easy to forget that transformation is the raison d'etre of the church. Thank you Seed School for reminding me about the goal of transformation and the thought and action processes behind creating a culture of transformation.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name
John 20: 1-18
An old Christian tradition states that one Christian says to another Christian or group of Christians--
"Christ is risen!"
The response is "Christ is risen, indeed! Alleluia!"
To speak these words that Jesus is raised from the dead is an important proclamation for followers of Christ. It states that Jesus Christ conquered death. What human beings think is the end of life, God's raising Christ from among the dead means that trusting in the power of God in Christ and God's claim upon our lives means that death will not conquer us, either. The resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead after his unjust execution on a cross is about as central to the Christian faith as anything proclaimed by the Christian Church.
Christ is risen, indeed.
I've never appreciated the "Christ is risen" exchange on Easter Sunday and in the weeks following. I dread speaking them. I dread hearing them.
It's not that I do not believe in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, but it is the story following the resurrection that disturbs me, even keeps me awake at night.
The story told in the gospel according to John depicts Jesus' loved ones coming to visit his grave site, not unlike you and I might visit a grave site of a loved one who has died, especially the days soon after a funeral. No one who comes to Jesus' grave and finds it empty grasps the reality or the magnitude of the fact that Jesus has been raised from the dead. Jesus even told his followers that this would happen, but they still don't get it--and they even hung around Jesus. A lot.
The resurrection of Jesus from the dead is hard for the human mind to grasp. Even with the gift of faith that God gives, resurrection is still challenging to grasp. To state that Jesus is raised from the dead is not enough. A statement didn't even work for Jesus. Jesus said he was going to be raised from the dead, and yet when his followers saw the evidence, they still didn't get it.
What changed?
Think about the power of a name. The power of a name can alter our state of being. If our name is spoken with anger, disdain or hatred, it shoots to the core of our being and can drive anyone to despair. A name spoken with curiosity, interest, enthusiasm, adoration or love can help someone experience joy and help them move mountains. In my studies related to couple's counseling and marriage care that an exercise for relationship strengthening can focus on intentionally using your significant other's name as opposed to nicknames, pet names, or randomly shouting out orders, requests, or seeking information.
The utterance of a name in love is part of our greatest rites of passage. We speak each others names during a wedding, and attach those names to promises. We take great care to choose names for children and pets. At a baptism, we say the baptized person's name and say "you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever." That name is repeated at Confirmation. A name is spoken at graduations and award ceremonies--and loved ones and fans cheer with delight. The activity attached to speaking a name carries great power--and that power can be used for good or ill.
Recently the morning "Today Show" and news outlets around the country told a story about the abuse of names--a telephone scam where elderly people are called and their heart strings are tugged, uttering the name "Grandma" as a means get to money. Saying things like "Grandma, I'm in trouble. Can you wire me some money?" The power of a name is to be used with great care.
One of my favorite utterances of a name is from an old television show from the 80's and 90's (at least it's old to this child of the 70's): I think many of you will know that name once you see his image. Once the name was uttered, some sort of lovable wisdom was shared: "It's a dog eat dog world, and I'm wearing Milk Bone underwear."
The writers of the television situation comedy "Cheers" made a powerful link to one of the show's most beloved characters, Norm Peterson, and the song that introduced the show.
I think the Cheers theme "Where Everybody Knows Your Name" is an instructive song to our understanding of the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead and what it means after the actual event. For the event to actually happen is one thing. But the event of Jesus being raised from the dead only had meaning in the context of a relationship. When Mary went to Jesus' grave site and found it empty, she didn't know what to make of it. She thought Jesus' body was taken by grave robbers. Jesus approached Mary and spoke to her. Mary didn't recognize Jesus or his voice. But once Jesus called out Mary's name--she knew that Jesus was alive, and she called him by one of the ways she knew her relationship. She affectionately called him "teacher."
The resurrection only became real to Mary when her name was spoken by Jesus and it was contextualized by a relationship. When I hear or speak the words "Christ Is Risen," it rings a little hollow for me because I know that I can do a better job of helping build relationships in the Church. I know that we can do better together. I know that hundreds of thousands of people look at Christians and don't care to hear about who Jesus is or what he has done because we haven't put a friendship, relationship or hospitality behind the name we proclaim. We may know something of the power of Jesus' name, but we have lost the sense of power of all the names of people whom God created.
I know nothing of the faith background of Scott Ginsberg--but I know that he has recognized the power of knowing a name. Several years ago, Scott decided to start wearing a name tag, all day, every day. He wrote a book, established a www.hellomynameisscott.com, and speaks worldwide about how his life has changed and the insights he has gained from wearing a name tag--how he built relationships because he was willing to put his name out there. Scott recognized the power of a name and turned it into making a living. I hear all kinds of excuses for people in a church not wearing a name tag. The truth is, we don't know as many names as we think we do, and sometimes I will avoid people because I don't want to go through the embarrassment of not remembering someone's name (has that happened to anyone else?). Name tags give people the opportunity to avoid the shame of not knowing a name, and it creates a better path to build a relationship.
I will not make a statement that the Church needs to be more like a bar, or that everyone in a congregation has to be best friends, or that everyone has to wear a name tag, OR ELSE. What I am saying is that we must recognize and act upon the power of a name and contextualize that name with a relationship. The statement about the resurrection telling the joyous event of Jesus' resurrection from the dead that ends the finality of death only means something in the context of a relationship.
There is something similar to Norm Peterson walking into Cheers and the Church. Wherever you go to encounter God, Jesus calls out your name with the same love and enthusiasm.
Christ is risen, indeed. Alleluia!
An old Christian tradition states that one Christian says to another Christian or group of Christians--
"Christ is risen!"
The response is "Christ is risen, indeed! Alleluia!"
To speak these words that Jesus is raised from the dead is an important proclamation for followers of Christ. It states that Jesus Christ conquered death. What human beings think is the end of life, God's raising Christ from among the dead means that trusting in the power of God in Christ and God's claim upon our lives means that death will not conquer us, either. The resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead after his unjust execution on a cross is about as central to the Christian faith as anything proclaimed by the Christian Church.
Christ is risen, indeed.
I've never appreciated the "Christ is risen" exchange on Easter Sunday and in the weeks following. I dread speaking them. I dread hearing them.
It's not that I do not believe in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, but it is the story following the resurrection that disturbs me, even keeps me awake at night.
The story told in the gospel according to John depicts Jesus' loved ones coming to visit his grave site, not unlike you and I might visit a grave site of a loved one who has died, especially the days soon after a funeral. No one who comes to Jesus' grave and finds it empty grasps the reality or the magnitude of the fact that Jesus has been raised from the dead. Jesus even told his followers that this would happen, but they still don't get it--and they even hung around Jesus. A lot.
The resurrection of Jesus from the dead is hard for the human mind to grasp. Even with the gift of faith that God gives, resurrection is still challenging to grasp. To state that Jesus is raised from the dead is not enough. A statement didn't even work for Jesus. Jesus said he was going to be raised from the dead, and yet when his followers saw the evidence, they still didn't get it.
What changed?
Think about the power of a name. The power of a name can alter our state of being. If our name is spoken with anger, disdain or hatred, it shoots to the core of our being and can drive anyone to despair. A name spoken with curiosity, interest, enthusiasm, adoration or love can help someone experience joy and help them move mountains. In my studies related to couple's counseling and marriage care that an exercise for relationship strengthening can focus on intentionally using your significant other's name as opposed to nicknames, pet names, or randomly shouting out orders, requests, or seeking information.
The utterance of a name in love is part of our greatest rites of passage. We speak each others names during a wedding, and attach those names to promises. We take great care to choose names for children and pets. At a baptism, we say the baptized person's name and say "you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever." That name is repeated at Confirmation. A name is spoken at graduations and award ceremonies--and loved ones and fans cheer with delight. The activity attached to speaking a name carries great power--and that power can be used for good or ill.
Recently the morning "Today Show" and news outlets around the country told a story about the abuse of names--a telephone scam where elderly people are called and their heart strings are tugged, uttering the name "Grandma" as a means get to money. Saying things like "Grandma, I'm in trouble. Can you wire me some money?" The power of a name is to be used with great care.
One of my favorite utterances of a name is from an old television show from the 80's and 90's (at least it's old to this child of the 70's): I think many of you will know that name once you see his image. Once the name was uttered, some sort of lovable wisdom was shared: "It's a dog eat dog world, and I'm wearing Milk Bone underwear."
The writers of the television situation comedy "Cheers" made a powerful link to one of the show's most beloved characters, Norm Peterson, and the song that introduced the show.
I think the Cheers theme "Where Everybody Knows Your Name" is an instructive song to our understanding of the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead and what it means after the actual event. For the event to actually happen is one thing. But the event of Jesus being raised from the dead only had meaning in the context of a relationship. When Mary went to Jesus' grave site and found it empty, she didn't know what to make of it. She thought Jesus' body was taken by grave robbers. Jesus approached Mary and spoke to her. Mary didn't recognize Jesus or his voice. But once Jesus called out Mary's name--she knew that Jesus was alive, and she called him by one of the ways she knew her relationship. She affectionately called him "teacher."
The resurrection only became real to Mary when her name was spoken by Jesus and it was contextualized by a relationship. When I hear or speak the words "Christ Is Risen," it rings a little hollow for me because I know that I can do a better job of helping build relationships in the Church. I know that we can do better together. I know that hundreds of thousands of people look at Christians and don't care to hear about who Jesus is or what he has done because we haven't put a friendship, relationship or hospitality behind the name we proclaim. We may know something of the power of Jesus' name, but we have lost the sense of power of all the names of people whom God created.
I know nothing of the faith background of Scott Ginsberg--but I know that he has recognized the power of knowing a name. Several years ago, Scott decided to start wearing a name tag, all day, every day. He wrote a book, established a www.hellomynameisscott.com, and speaks worldwide about how his life has changed and the insights he has gained from wearing a name tag--how he built relationships because he was willing to put his name out there. Scott recognized the power of a name and turned it into making a living. I hear all kinds of excuses for people in a church not wearing a name tag. The truth is, we don't know as many names as we think we do, and sometimes I will avoid people because I don't want to go through the embarrassment of not remembering someone's name (has that happened to anyone else?). Name tags give people the opportunity to avoid the shame of not knowing a name, and it creates a better path to build a relationship.
I will not make a statement that the Church needs to be more like a bar, or that everyone in a congregation has to be best friends, or that everyone has to wear a name tag, OR ELSE. What I am saying is that we must recognize and act upon the power of a name and contextualize that name with a relationship. The statement about the resurrection telling the joyous event of Jesus' resurrection from the dead that ends the finality of death only means something in the context of a relationship.
There is something similar to Norm Peterson walking into Cheers and the Church. Wherever you go to encounter God, Jesus calls out your name with the same love and enthusiasm.
Christ is risen, indeed. Alleluia!
Monday, March 29, 2010
A game of interdependence
Last week I returned to the United States after a week with my brother and his family in Edmonton, Alberta. I always enjoy a trip to Canada. Though many American creature comforts cover the landscape, some distinctly Canadian features offer some alternative perspective to American cultural hegemony and worldview. I value perspective as a theologian and in my life in general; I sharpen my critical thinking skills when forced to look at something in a different way.
I remember as a child watching the CBC on Seattle cable television, my only source for ice hockey and curling. Though my enjoyment of these sports never reached the level of baseball, college football or basketball--I would choose watching curling or ice hockey over golf or auto racing if given a choice.
During the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver, I heard or read more than one American say that if they set their mind to it, they could become an Olympic-caliber curler. It's just shuffleboard on ice, so the critique goes. Though curling does not require world-class physical condition or athletic ability, I found my baseball sensibilities awakened by the interdependence, skill and agility involved. Curling requires a different set of gifts to compete at a level of excellence. Yet curling is accessible enough that one can participate and enjoy at any skill level, like golf or bowling. If a different set of gifts is required beyond mainstream activities, the activity is devalued: "it's just shuffleboard on ice." After two hours of curling at the University of Alberta curling rinks (picture above), I was sore from sweeping and in admiration of the agility required in throwing and sweeping.
My primary interest in curling is the interdependence--inspiring thoughts about team work and life in the Church. Even as a newcomer, my team still depended upon my contribution. My success was celebrated, I learned during several teaching moments, and my abilities were challenged. I learned a new sporting lexicon (skip, house, hammer, button, etc). All was shared with grace. This shared grace and challenge is what I hope for in the communities of faith in which I serve.
(If you're wondering about my success, I scored a double take-out on my third throw. That's not two take-out orders of poutine, but I knocked out two opponent rocks on one throw. Those granite rocks are HEAVY.)
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Sermon for January 17, 2010: "Listen. Do you want to know a secret?"
Matthew 21: 23-32
Brett Favre, starting quarterback of the Minnesota Vikings, may play in his last game for what seems to be the 50th time in his career today. He can't seem to retire in the literal sense of the word. Any news related to the National Football League over the past 3 years has expelled a significant portion of its wind to whether Brett Favre will retire. It is for moments such as these like today's game that a football player lives. On the biggest sporting stage that American sports can offer, Favre will have the attention of his coaches, his teammates, tens of thousands of screaming fans in the Metrodome in Minneapolis, numerous analysts sitting in multimillion dollar sets in television and radio studios hanging on his words and actions, and fans all over the world will be paying attention to what Brett Favre does on the field and what he says to accompany those actions. You don't even have to like Brett Favre--even the people who hate Favre and spit on his image will be listening and watching what Favre says and does. People may end up talking about Favre's words and actions for decades to come.
No wonder he doesn't want to retire. Being heard and watched to the degree Favre is examined would be challenging to relinquish. Many athletes struggle to retire for that reason. No one really listens anymore once the jersey is removed. I'm sure Favre will struggle with retirement once again after the end of his season.
I enjoy being heard. For all of the terror associated with weekly public speaking on the matters of life, death, grace, forgiveness, love, God and the cosmos, there is a feeling of exhilaration in preaching. People are actually listening. My thoughts, prayers and reflections actually matter to people, and then in some ways, I am better understood. I think preachers also struggle to retire. There is an allure to being heard--and losing that state of living, where one is heard on a weekly basis for so many years, becomes a threat to one's own existence. Though the desire for status is universal and a great roadblock to change in life--one thing I notice about social networking sites, blogs, public figures and in any social interaction is that though status-seeking drives the success of these sites or in simple human interaction, the underlying human need behind the social posturing is to be heard.
To be heard is a matter of survival. For some it is literal. A baby needs to be heard and people must respond for that child to live. People who survived the initial stages of the earthquake catastrophe in Haiti, but buried in rubble, their survival hinged upon being heard by a rescuer. It is hard to take human focus off of being heard, when so much is at stake. Being heard is part of our social well being as well as physical. People who are not heard can end up suffering isolation, depression and sometimes be driven to suicide, hoping that in their final act, they will be heard.
This essential part of our humanity--to be heard--and once we are heard--can be quite intoxicating. The problem ends up being that the ONLY goal in life is to be heard--and our society looks quite intoxicated right now. It appears that the only relevant state of being is to be heard. The problem with so many people working hard to be heard, one thinks that the only way to be heard in the crowd is to speak as often or as loudly as possible. Talk radio and talk TV lineups feature screamer after yeller after screamer after yeller. Preachers have followed the same logic over the years. In order to be heard--there has to be some yelling (so the logic goes). Parenting has become a similar enterprise with the quest to be heard. I recently read a New York Times article that faced with limited methods (at least related to old-fashioned parenting techniques), parents have turned to shouting as a leading method to be heard. One thing that I have learned is that the more I shout, the less my children eventually listen.
Jesus in his wisdom knew about the human desire to be heard. I think the desire to be heard is a cousin to a desire for status. The interesting thing about Jesus' critique of both leaders and followers in Matthew 21 is that he doesn't give people public speaking techniques. Jesus doesn't tell his followers to get louder. He doesn't teach them rhetoric. He doesn't teach them marketing or public relations. Jesus uses this story in Matthew 21 to let his followers know that what it means to live in connection with God requires listening. Listening to God means obedience. According to Jesus, listening to God means change, especially when people are generally focused more on being heard than listening.
Listening can change the world. While I have placed countless hours of energy trying to be heard, Jesus says that truly listening to God is linked to change. Listening to God models listening to others. This is a leap, because I catch myself being intoxicated by being heard on a macro level, but also on the micro level. I've caught myself worrying more about what I am going to say next than listening to the person with whom I am having a conversation. The intense desire to be heard juxtaposed with the dearth of listening can even be seen in public discourse related to relief efforts in Haiti. There's plenty of energy surrounding what is being said by President Obama, Pat Robertson and Rush Limbaugh, but I suppose it is a lot easier to concern myself with what is said by those folks and by me, rather than listening to those who are suffering.
In anxious times, what often comes to the forefront is not listening, but more people trying to be heard because they are anxious. The world can be changed by listening. God changed the world for Moses and his people by first hearing their suffering and letting Israel and Egypt know that God's people were heard.
On a practical level, as First Lutheran Community Church faces significant budget challenges and concerns over future pastoral leadership. It is certainly more alluring to offer theories as to why things are the way they are. The world we live in can be changed by listening. How do we listen to God? One of my favorite professors from Luther Seminary, Dr. Pat Keifert, says that we tend to think that prayer is the time that we get God to listen to us. Actually, prayer is the time God gets us to listen to God.
Bertel Thorvaldsen was a famous Danish sculptor known for his massive depiction of Jesus, the original appearing at Vor Frue's Kirke (Church of Our Lady) in Copenhagen, and with copies all over the world. The story attached to this sculpture notes the forward tilted head of Jesus, which was not the original intent of Thorvaldsen. Apparently, as the carving of the head took place, Thorvaldsen and his assistant miscalculated the carving and drying of the sculpture--a massive undertaking considering that sculpture was more than twice the size of an average human. The sculptors returned to their work the next morning to find that Jesus' head had tilted downward. The assistant thought this was a major failure of the piece and that months and months of work had been for naught. Thorvaldsen reassured his assistant that this was actually how Jesus should be depicted. The only way one could see the eyes of Jesus in this sculpture is to be on one's knees in prayer. It is true--the only way to get a clear glimpse of Jesus' face at Vor Frue's Kirke is to be kneeling at the altar rail.
For the world to change, the people of God need to be changed. The people of God cannot be changed as we make our way serving our God on this earth through placing all of our energy on what we say and attempt to be heard and asserting our own authority. If we seek for the situation in Haiti to change, we need to pray. If we seek the situation with the church's budget and congregational resources to change, we need to pray. It's not necessarily that we are taking to God our Christmas list and hoping to receive gifts, but that in listening, we are changed by the Jesus who changed our lives because he was obedient to the point of death on a cross. We are changed in our words, changed in our attitudes, and changed in our actions. In that change, we become the face of Jesus in a world where that face is needed among the suffering.
Brett Favre, starting quarterback of the Minnesota Vikings, may play in his last game for what seems to be the 50th time in his career today. He can't seem to retire in the literal sense of the word. Any news related to the National Football League over the past 3 years has expelled a significant portion of its wind to whether Brett Favre will retire. It is for moments such as these like today's game that a football player lives. On the biggest sporting stage that American sports can offer, Favre will have the attention of his coaches, his teammates, tens of thousands of screaming fans in the Metrodome in Minneapolis, numerous analysts sitting in multimillion dollar sets in television and radio studios hanging on his words and actions, and fans all over the world will be paying attention to what Brett Favre does on the field and what he says to accompany those actions. You don't even have to like Brett Favre--even the people who hate Favre and spit on his image will be listening and watching what Favre says and does. People may end up talking about Favre's words and actions for decades to come.
No wonder he doesn't want to retire. Being heard and watched to the degree Favre is examined would be challenging to relinquish. Many athletes struggle to retire for that reason. No one really listens anymore once the jersey is removed. I'm sure Favre will struggle with retirement once again after the end of his season.
I enjoy being heard. For all of the terror associated with weekly public speaking on the matters of life, death, grace, forgiveness, love, God and the cosmos, there is a feeling of exhilaration in preaching. People are actually listening. My thoughts, prayers and reflections actually matter to people, and then in some ways, I am better understood. I think preachers also struggle to retire. There is an allure to being heard--and losing that state of living, where one is heard on a weekly basis for so many years, becomes a threat to one's own existence. Though the desire for status is universal and a great roadblock to change in life--one thing I notice about social networking sites, blogs, public figures and in any social interaction is that though status-seeking drives the success of these sites or in simple human interaction, the underlying human need behind the social posturing is to be heard.
To be heard is a matter of survival. For some it is literal. A baby needs to be heard and people must respond for that child to live. People who survived the initial stages of the earthquake catastrophe in Haiti, but buried in rubble, their survival hinged upon being heard by a rescuer. It is hard to take human focus off of being heard, when so much is at stake. Being heard is part of our social well being as well as physical. People who are not heard can end up suffering isolation, depression and sometimes be driven to suicide, hoping that in their final act, they will be heard.
This essential part of our humanity--to be heard--and once we are heard--can be quite intoxicating. The problem ends up being that the ONLY goal in life is to be heard--and our society looks quite intoxicated right now. It appears that the only relevant state of being is to be heard. The problem with so many people working hard to be heard, one thinks that the only way to be heard in the crowd is to speak as often or as loudly as possible. Talk radio and talk TV lineups feature screamer after yeller after screamer after yeller. Preachers have followed the same logic over the years. In order to be heard--there has to be some yelling (so the logic goes). Parenting has become a similar enterprise with the quest to be heard. I recently read a New York Times article that faced with limited methods (at least related to old-fashioned parenting techniques), parents have turned to shouting as a leading method to be heard. One thing that I have learned is that the more I shout, the less my children eventually listen.
Jesus in his wisdom knew about the human desire to be heard. I think the desire to be heard is a cousin to a desire for status. The interesting thing about Jesus' critique of both leaders and followers in Matthew 21 is that he doesn't give people public speaking techniques. Jesus doesn't tell his followers to get louder. He doesn't teach them rhetoric. He doesn't teach them marketing or public relations. Jesus uses this story in Matthew 21 to let his followers know that what it means to live in connection with God requires listening. Listening to God means obedience. According to Jesus, listening to God means change, especially when people are generally focused more on being heard than listening.
Listening can change the world. While I have placed countless hours of energy trying to be heard, Jesus says that truly listening to God is linked to change. Listening to God models listening to others. This is a leap, because I catch myself being intoxicated by being heard on a macro level, but also on the micro level. I've caught myself worrying more about what I am going to say next than listening to the person with whom I am having a conversation. The intense desire to be heard juxtaposed with the dearth of listening can even be seen in public discourse related to relief efforts in Haiti. There's plenty of energy surrounding what is being said by President Obama, Pat Robertson and Rush Limbaugh, but I suppose it is a lot easier to concern myself with what is said by those folks and by me, rather than listening to those who are suffering.
In anxious times, what often comes to the forefront is not listening, but more people trying to be heard because they are anxious. The world can be changed by listening. God changed the world for Moses and his people by first hearing their suffering and letting Israel and Egypt know that God's people were heard.
On a practical level, as First Lutheran Community Church faces significant budget challenges and concerns over future pastoral leadership. It is certainly more alluring to offer theories as to why things are the way they are. The world we live in can be changed by listening. How do we listen to God? One of my favorite professors from Luther Seminary, Dr. Pat Keifert, says that we tend to think that prayer is the time that we get God to listen to us. Actually, prayer is the time God gets us to listen to God.
Bertel Thorvaldsen was a famous Danish sculptor known for his massive depiction of Jesus, the original appearing at Vor Frue's Kirke (Church of Our Lady) in Copenhagen, and with copies all over the world. The story attached to this sculpture notes the forward tilted head of Jesus, which was not the original intent of Thorvaldsen. Apparently, as the carving of the head took place, Thorvaldsen and his assistant miscalculated the carving and drying of the sculpture--a massive undertaking considering that sculpture was more than twice the size of an average human. The sculptors returned to their work the next morning to find that Jesus' head had tilted downward. The assistant thought this was a major failure of the piece and that months and months of work had been for naught. Thorvaldsen reassured his assistant that this was actually how Jesus should be depicted. The only way one could see the eyes of Jesus in this sculpture is to be on one's knees in prayer. It is true--the only way to get a clear glimpse of Jesus' face at Vor Frue's Kirke is to be kneeling at the altar rail.
For the world to change, the people of God need to be changed. The people of God cannot be changed as we make our way serving our God on this earth through placing all of our energy on what we say and attempt to be heard and asserting our own authority. If we seek for the situation in Haiti to change, we need to pray. If we seek the situation with the church's budget and congregational resources to change, we need to pray. It's not necessarily that we are taking to God our Christmas list and hoping to receive gifts, but that in listening, we are changed by the Jesus who changed our lives because he was obedient to the point of death on a cross. We are changed in our words, changed in our attitudes, and changed in our actions. In that change, we become the face of Jesus in a world where that face is needed among the suffering.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Sermon Prayers and Thoughts: Staring at the Barren Ground: People, Look East!
The sermons of December are related to favorite stories connected to Jesus' birth. Before we get to Jesus' birth, we take a visit to the family birth story of John the Baptist and his parents, Zechariah and Elizabeth in Luke 1.
Birth stories are popular to this day. Melanie and I recently watched the popular film "Knocked Up." The story highlights the birth of a child in a tenuous situation--which is actually a common theme. Even though the circumstances have some unique qualities today, there are some common themes to all stories related to birth.
Elizabeth and Zechariah's story follows a long tradition of stories related to the arrival of a child. Though the circumstances from story to story may be different, a lot of similar things happen. The parents-to-be are anxious. They move through periods of excitement, amazement, doubt, bewilderment and feelings of inadequacy. This is very common in story telling. When a familiar story is told, it engages the audience, but also makes them more sensitive to differences in characters. Biblical scholar Amy-Jill Levine shares some excellent work related to how story types in the Bible are very important in conveying messages about God, faith and community life. It doesn't take a sophisticated mind to recognize story patterns--if we name a type of story, we almost don't have to watch the story to give a basic outline of the plot. If I say "Western," you can probably give a plot outline. If I say "murder mystery," you can give a plot outline. If I say "situation comedy from the 1970's," I could give a plot outline. As a child, Tuesday evening television was devoted to my indoctrination into the power of familiar stories. If I had done my homework and got ready for bed, I could watch Happy Days and Laverne & Shirley. I knew the plot lines for Happy Days and Laverne & Shirley: each one of the characters took their turns in messing something up, only to be remedied by a young and cool Italian man. One of those Italian heroes being Arthur Fonzarelli, the other being Carmine Ragusa. They weren't the most educated, or even wealthy. Their M.O. was using their own special gift in a pressure situation. Carmine believed in honor, and his artistic abilities. The FONZ was all about grace under pressure. He really didn't even need to throw a punch, though occasionally showed the ability to throw a punch. I think I liked these characters because I was also an aspiring young Italian man who wanted to make a difference in people's lives.
Birth stories are prevalent in the Old Testament. Why tell a birth story? What does the birth story say about God and God's people?
Genesis 11 is part of the story of Abraham and Sarah and their son, Isaac.
Genesis 25 is part of the story about Isaac and Rebekah and their son, Jacob.
Genesis 29 is part of the story about Jacob and Rachel and their son, Joseph.
Judges 13 tells the story of Samson and his parents.
1 Samuel tells the story of Samuel's parents Eli and Hannah.
What do all of these stories have in common besides the birth of a son? Each of these women is considered "barren." The audience of these stories probably knew what was coming next in these kinds of stories, probably recognizing the same nuances I did with my Tuesday night situation comedies on ABC KOMO TV4. Though each of these women are barren, each has its own twist of plot or characterization.
A few interesting points about Elizabeth and Zechariah. Zechariah was a priest and charged with the care of communal faith life. He was living his calling and making a difference for the community of faith. Elizabeth was a descendant of Moses' brother Aaron. This was an important couple in the community. Luke 1:6 tells us that both were blameless and upright, following the commandments of God. Yet, Elizabeth was barren--she could not give birth to a child, what some might consider a curse. Like in the story of Job, the main characters have done nothing to deserve the circumstance in their life. Barrenness is not seen as a consequence, but a condition of life--and an opportunity.
I really love my life when things seem to click and move well. I like it when I'm funny. I like it when I have a good conversation with my wife, or connect with my kids. I like life when I have a good idea, or solve a problem. I like it when I read voraciously, write prolifically and pray earnestly. The problem is those times become a temptation to think I can somehow live without God (kind of interesting when I actually have a good prayer life). When life is not clicking, I think God is absent, but actually God is at work. Barrenness in Luke chapter 1 is not a punishment, or the absence of God, but an open field for the love and action of God to be made known for the people who are looking. Even though Zechariah and Elizabeth experienced barrenness, they still couldn't see the possibilities that God had through them. Even though Zechariah was blameless, he had famous last words (literally and figuratively), challenging the Angel Gabriel, "But my wife is getting on in years." His doubt landed a long sentence of muteness. So much for being blameless and upright.
Whatever barrenness we experience in life, personal or communal, it is time for the people of God to "look East," and look up and proclaim the action of God, even in places that appear to be barren. God is at work.
Birth stories are popular to this day. Melanie and I recently watched the popular film "Knocked Up." The story highlights the birth of a child in a tenuous situation--which is actually a common theme. Even though the circumstances have some unique qualities today, there are some common themes to all stories related to birth.
Elizabeth and Zechariah's story follows a long tradition of stories related to the arrival of a child. Though the circumstances from story to story may be different, a lot of similar things happen. The parents-to-be are anxious. They move through periods of excitement, amazement, doubt, bewilderment and feelings of inadequacy. This is very common in story telling. When a familiar story is told, it engages the audience, but also makes them more sensitive to differences in characters. Biblical scholar Amy-Jill Levine shares some excellent work related to how story types in the Bible are very important in conveying messages about God, faith and community life. It doesn't take a sophisticated mind to recognize story patterns--if we name a type of story, we almost don't have to watch the story to give a basic outline of the plot. If I say "Western," you can probably give a plot outline. If I say "murder mystery," you can give a plot outline. If I say "situation comedy from the 1970's," I could give a plot outline. As a child, Tuesday evening television was devoted to my indoctrination into the power of familiar stories. If I had done my homework and got ready for bed, I could watch Happy Days and Laverne & Shirley. I knew the plot lines for Happy Days and Laverne & Shirley: each one of the characters took their turns in messing something up, only to be remedied by a young and cool Italian man. One of those Italian heroes being Arthur Fonzarelli, the other being Carmine Ragusa. They weren't the most educated, or even wealthy. Their M.O. was using their own special gift in a pressure situation. Carmine believed in honor, and his artistic abilities. The FONZ was all about grace under pressure. He really didn't even need to throw a punch, though occasionally showed the ability to throw a punch. I think I liked these characters because I was also an aspiring young Italian man who wanted to make a difference in people's lives.
Birth stories are prevalent in the Old Testament. Why tell a birth story? What does the birth story say about God and God's people?
Genesis 11 is part of the story of Abraham and Sarah and their son, Isaac.
Genesis 25 is part of the story about Isaac and Rebekah and their son, Jacob.
Genesis 29 is part of the story about Jacob and Rachel and their son, Joseph.
Judges 13 tells the story of Samson and his parents.
1 Samuel tells the story of Samuel's parents Eli and Hannah.
What do all of these stories have in common besides the birth of a son? Each of these women is considered "barren." The audience of these stories probably knew what was coming next in these kinds of stories, probably recognizing the same nuances I did with my Tuesday night situation comedies on ABC KOMO TV4. Though each of these women are barren, each has its own twist of plot or characterization.
A few interesting points about Elizabeth and Zechariah. Zechariah was a priest and charged with the care of communal faith life. He was living his calling and making a difference for the community of faith. Elizabeth was a descendant of Moses' brother Aaron. This was an important couple in the community. Luke 1:6 tells us that both were blameless and upright, following the commandments of God. Yet, Elizabeth was barren--she could not give birth to a child, what some might consider a curse. Like in the story of Job, the main characters have done nothing to deserve the circumstance in their life. Barrenness is not seen as a consequence, but a condition of life--and an opportunity.
I really love my life when things seem to click and move well. I like it when I'm funny. I like it when I have a good conversation with my wife, or connect with my kids. I like life when I have a good idea, or solve a problem. I like it when I read voraciously, write prolifically and pray earnestly. The problem is those times become a temptation to think I can somehow live without God (kind of interesting when I actually have a good prayer life). When life is not clicking, I think God is absent, but actually God is at work. Barrenness in Luke chapter 1 is not a punishment, or the absence of God, but an open field for the love and action of God to be made known for the people who are looking. Even though Zechariah and Elizabeth experienced barrenness, they still couldn't see the possibilities that God had through them. Even though Zechariah was blameless, he had famous last words (literally and figuratively), challenging the Angel Gabriel, "But my wife is getting on in years." His doubt landed a long sentence of muteness. So much for being blameless and upright.
Whatever barrenness we experience in life, personal or communal, it is time for the people of God to "look East," and look up and proclaim the action of God, even in places that appear to be barren. God is at work.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
A Sunday Sermon Preview: Symbols
Sometimes I feel like I am one of the only people between the ages of 20-40 (not a category I will be in much longer) without a tattoo on my body. My tattoo career was limited to the temporary tattoos I loved to get in a box of Cracker Jack. I'm not against tattoos. Actually, I find them quite interesting. My brother has a couple of great ones that have become the fascination of my daughters (one of them being a train--a shoo-in for the girls). They just don't seem to fit me or my personality--kind of like the earring I tried for a week while I was in college. It sounded like a good idea at the time, but it didn't fit.
I started watching LA Ink on a lark--a show about a tattoo shop in Hollywood. The workplace drama is boring and drawn out, but the stories behind the tattoos are gripping, deeply personal and emotional. The symbols that make the tattoo provide meaning about the past and guidance for the future. The tattoo stories on LA Ink connect me to some of the stories related to the Ark of the Covenant, particularly the reading in the Old Testament book of Numbers 10:29-36. The Ark of the Covenant has a deep and varied meaning for Israel, and this Bible passage reveals one trajectory of that meaning.
There is no way I can cover the multitude of tattoo stories from LA Ink in a sermon, but I think they are worth your time as you think about the power of symbols in our lives as we prepare for Sunday.
I started watching LA Ink on a lark--a show about a tattoo shop in Hollywood. The workplace drama is boring and drawn out, but the stories behind the tattoos are gripping, deeply personal and emotional. The symbols that make the tattoo provide meaning about the past and guidance for the future. The tattoo stories on LA Ink connect me to some of the stories related to the Ark of the Covenant, particularly the reading in the Old Testament book of Numbers 10:29-36. The Ark of the Covenant has a deep and varied meaning for Israel, and this Bible passage reveals one trajectory of that meaning.
There is no way I can cover the multitude of tattoo stories from LA Ink in a sermon, but I think they are worth your time as you think about the power of symbols in our lives as we prepare for Sunday.
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