Paying Attention

Admit it, you don’t pay attention to those preflight safety announcements anymore. I don’t, either. Things we hear regularly—even important things THAT COULD SAVE OUR LIFE(!)—can become so familiar that we simply stop paying attention.

There’s a regular part of Christian liturgy—28 words so important that Jesus said every other word in the Bible hangs on them—the Church has repeated week after week almost without exception. Year after year. Century after century. For millennia.

Cue Charlie Brown adult sound.

This week, though, we’re gonna to pay attention.

See you Sunday.

Steve+

A Different Kind of Blindness

I once lived in a city where I often used public transportation. The city buses clearly marked the first row of seats for handicapped and elderly folks. One morning on the way to work, I boarded the bus and took my seat several rows back. It was crowded but there were still seats available here and there if you looked. An older man stepped aboard, paid his fare, and expected to sit in the front row. Instead, he saw a young, healthy-looking gentleman sitting there. He became irate by this obviously selfish transgression and castigated the young man in a loud voice for all to hear. After finishing with a prolonged look of disdain, he turned to find an empty seat just a few rows back. The young man shifted uncomfortably and remained quiet. Several minutes later, the bus lurched to a halt at the next step. And out from under the seat of the young man in the first row lept a guide dog, trained to help his blind master exit the bus while the bus driver waited patiently. The elderly man stared in disbelief at the guide dog and the young blind man as they exited, averting his eyes from others until he reached his destination and left quickly without a word.

There are different kinds of blindness, apparently.

I look forward to exploring this together on Sunday!

Steve Engstrom+

Warts and All

When Oliver Cromwell’s official portrait was unveiled to him in 1656, he angrily rejected it. Thinking it would please him, the court painter had omitted Cromwell’s unsightly facial warts.

“Take it away”, he reportedly demanded, “and paint me as I am, warts and all!”

In this week’s Gospel, Mark paints an unedited and unabashed portrait of Jesus’ disciples’, warts and all...corrupted by ambition and jealousy.

Why’d he do this? Mark had a very ancient (and biblical) way of understanding human design, which aligns seamlessly with what Jesus went on to unveil to his disciples about the nature of greatness.

See you Sunday.

Steve+

Blind Spot

The practical definition of a blind spot is simply, “something you don’t see.”

It’s often quite painful when a blind spot is exposed to us. In fact, it can cause us grief. At least that’s been my experience. But once it’s been exposed and dealt with, the result can be life changing.

In this week’s Gospel reading, Jesus lovingly exposes a major blind spot in an exceptionally successful, powerful, and moral young man—just one thing that’s holding him back (though admittedly, its a pernicious one).

Sadly however, while its exposure does grieve him, it doesn’t change him.

See you Sunday.

Steve+

A Really Big Deal

As I was reading through the lessons appointed for next Sunday (Steve Engstrom is preaching this Sunday), I was struck by the fact that in the Gospel reading (Mark 10:2- 16) Jesus is once again talking about children. Apparently, to Jesus, children and how we “receive” them are directly and intimately connected to how we perceive and receive the kingdom of God. In other words, they’re a really big deal.

One of the things Jesus adds in this particular encounter is that we not only passively let them come, but also that we actively do not hinder them. I suppose there are numerous ways we can hinder children, but one that springs immediately to my mind is to receive them into a community where they aren’t actively taught and formed by adults who love them in a way that’s meaningful to them. Maybe the sixth grade boy’s question, “Are we ever going to have Sunday school for kids my age?” was code for “I’m bored”, but even if so, it struck a much deeper and more theological chord with me. And really, it makes no difference because boredom is hindrance.

One thing I want to make clear is that I’m not saying we ought simply to entertain or amuse children—there’s way more than enough of that in the world—but as a seminary professor and friend of mine often said in class regarding the importance of practical

preaching, “You gotta take the hay down out of the loft so the cows can get at it.” I think that applies here.

Our shared vision is “To proclaim and promote the Gospel; giving ever more time talent and treasure to seeking the flourishing of our neighbors.” To pursue this vision effectively means we must grow more, but not simply for growth's sake. We need to grow more so that we can give more. Directly connected to that growth will be how we let the children come to Jesus and do not hinder them. Oh, and also, the children in our church are our neighbors.

For this sixth grade boy, for the young family that feels that they have no choice but to find a different church,* and for the future of Redeemer, this is a really big deal.

Karissa Simmons, Redeemer’s Children’s Formation Director sent an email last week laying out our plan for children’s formation and numerous opportunities to serve. Please take the time to look it over again and consider how you might commit your time and talent. You can access it here.

*In case you have no idea what I’m talking about, they were part of my sermon Sunday. You can find it here.

Steve+

Not Necessarily What You’d Think

There’s an old story, maybe apocryphal, of the legendary boxer Muhammad Ali once arguing with a flight attendant over having to wear a seatbelt. “Superman don’t need a seatbelt,” he reportedly said.

Her retort? “Superman don’t need an airplane. Buckle up.”

It sounds like it might be true based on his habit of telling anyone who would listen (and that was everyone at the time) that he was, in fact, “The Greatest.”

Interestingly, nowhere—not even in this week’s Gospel—does Jesus ever criticize a person for pursuing true greatness or true significance. I think that’s because he actually created us to be great and to be significant.

There’s only one way to achieve these, however, and it’s not necessarily what you’d think.

See you Sunday.

Steve+

Not the God I Wanted

A few days into my sabbatical a friend wrote the following, and I don’t like it: “The real places of spiritual transformation are solitude, loneliness, boredom, suffering, and fear. Things we want to avoid, but where the good stuff always hides.”

I know this to be true, and that’s why I don’t like it. Candidly, this is not the God I wanted.

But I’m not alone. This is revealed in the answer to a pointed question Jesus asked in this week’s Gospel reading. It’s not the God Peter wanted either…but it is the God that is.

And the God that is is so much better.

See you Sunday.

Steve+

Crumbs Under the Table

The Prayer of Humble Access in our Eucharistic liturgy comes, in part, from a remarkable conversation recorded in this week’s Gospel reading: “Apart from your grace, we are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under your table…”

It’s thought to be a playful—though at first blush insulting—conversation in which a desperate mother responds to Jesus’ seemingly harsh comment to her with alacrity, wit, and charm. And Jesus, whose character is always to have mercy, honors her request.

Despite the outcome, this story is a sharp reminder to us that Jesus wasn’t simply called to go around being helpful to everyone. He had specific (and controversial) things to do and a limited time to do them.

Lauren and I are excited to see you Sunday. We’ve missed you.

Steve+