Christian Glory

Each fall, Duke Divinity School sponsors an annual Convocation and Pastor's School. It is a three day event in which clergy gather for continuing education and fellowship. It is also a chance to see colleagues and friends outside the regular context of the parish. The event includes timely lectures by leaders in Theology or Science as well as brief classes offered by Divinity School faculty. There is also morning and evening worship. Typically, the worship is highlighted by guest preachers who, like the lecturers, have recently made a name for themselves in one way or another.

Each year that I attend, I marvel at the fanfare. The moderator will typically spend two or three minutes highlighting accomplishments. But this is merely to introduce the presenter of the presenter. And then, this person will spend another five minutes documenting the spectacular resume of the actual lecturer. Even the preachers are introduced this way. By the time the actual speaker reaches the podium, there is so much glory and expectation in the air that everyone in the room is sweaty and exhausted. Perhaps this is the point. After all that expectation, it must be great, right? And truth be told, it usually is.

It is a treat to listen to men and women with exceptional minds and oratory gifts. The lectures at Convocation are consistently interesting and I always return with a renewed spirit and some new theological insight.

The worship and preaching, however, are a bit more hit and miss. Probably for the same reason. While the showering of accolades and all that intoxicating glory might make sense and add credibility to a lecture hall, they seem out of place in a sanctuary. There is just something awkward about Christian glory. But it was actually out of this awkwardness that I gained one of my favorite preaching anecdotes.

It happened one year when the Convocation organizers decided to take a different tact. Rather than inviting the Minister to the University at Harvard or the Senior Pastor of Mega Church USA, the organizers decided to invite someone from within our own ranks. We showed up for worship that evening and looked at the bulletin. "Who is this guy?" We all wondered. "Oh, that's such and such. He serves First Church Albemarle..." You could hear the murmerings, almost see the wheels turning in the minds of the clergy. Each man trying to figure out how the organizers had passed over the best preacher in the room.

I was still a member of the Iowa Annual Conference back then so I had no skin in the game. I always came back to Duke to see a few friends, enjoy the October weather in Carolina, and clear my mind. But there were only a few of us--folks who came from distance. The rest of the 1000 or so others came from the two Carolina Conferences. These clergymen (and they were mostly men), came to Convocation not only for the lectures but also to be seen, to shake the right hands and maybe make a case for a better appointment next time around.

Worship began and processed pretty much the way it always did. We read thoughtful liturgies and sang bellowing cathedral hymns; someone offered a perfect prayer... And then came the moment of truth. Pastor Such and Such from Nowhere, North Carolina was introduced and began the coveted march up the steps to the great pulpit in Duke Chapel. I did not know the preacher personally but from the limited bullets in his introduction I gathered that this was a pretty young man. Although he was ordained and, from that standpoint, speaking to a gathering of peers, the fact was that many of these men had been serving churches since before he had even been born.

What followed was a forty-minute diatribe in which Pastor Such and Such condemned the entire gathering for all our misgivings. He scolded us for being weak, unfaithful and generally worthless pastors. Covering just about every area of ministry, he assured the clergy of both the North Carolina and Western North Carolina conferences that they were failing in their calling as shepherds of God's people.

By the time it was finally over, the place was more than ready to be emptied. As we were making our way out, I realized that I had been sitting just a few rows away from the man who had been my preaching professor while I was at the Divinity School. He saw me and simply said, "Never underestimate ridicule as an effective sermon technique." It was a perfect response to a perfectly horrible sermon.

It wasn't that the man was saying things that were not true. It was just that he was saying them without so much as a hint of grace. I wasn't sure which I felt more--anger or pity. The man had not only blown a great opportunity; he had almost certainly misrepresented himself. Back home in Nowhere, he was probably a compassionate pastor and a fine preacher. But all that had somehow been lost in translation for the sake of that glorious shot at preaching to his peers in Duke Chapel.

There was a lesson that night. It just wasn't what the preacher had to say. It was what he did--how he presented himself in the pulpit as a representative of Christ and the Gospel. I suspect that all those men who had earlier coveted the chance to stand in his place recanted before they left the chapel that night. And the Convocation organizers tool. Since that night, I do not recall seeing the names of my colleagues in the chapel bulletin. We Average Joes had had our chance and it was clear that we were not ready.

There are many symbols of Christianity. But the Cross remains the best one. It stands as a reminder--not only of God's love but also of the unique and compelling way in which it was revealed.

Hope at Ground Zero

For thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: Houses and fields and vineyards shall again be bought in this land. Jeremiah 32:15

The people of Saint Francis have done an amazing thing. Of course, some might say that it was irresponsible or even dangerous. But I believe that it is courageous, faithful and exciting. We have been building, painting, carpeting, and renovating... First our youth building and more recently, our main building. And just last night we made the decision to renovate the chancel area in our sanctuary.

What makes this amazing is that we are doing all of this in a down economy. Indeed, we are doing these things in what is without doubt the most challenging economic period that many of our people have experienced in their lifetimes. Nevertheless, out of faith in God and a commitment to the mission and ministry of the Church, we are preparing. To coin a Biblical phrase, we are "making ready" for the things that God has in store for us and for countless others that we have not yet met.

Praise God for his sovereign grace and generosity and thank you to the leadership of Saint Francis for their faith and courage!

Following is a reprint of an article that I wrote for the Saint Francis Newsletter back in July of this year. It is about another time in which someone did an amazing, reckless wonderful thing out of faith...

Chapter 32 of The Book of Jeremiah retells what might be the worst real estate transaction in the entire Bible. Jeremiah the Prophet is locked up in the courtyard for making unhappy observations and predictions that have irritated King Zedekiah. While in jail, he receives a word from the Lord that he is about to be visited by his cousin—a cousin that he has not seen in a very long time. It turns out that his cousin wants to sell him a spot of land on the family farm. Significant here is the fact that the spot is either currently or soon to be inhabited by the invading Chaldeans and Jeremiah knows it. The land is about to be taken over and Israel is soon to be turned upside down. Furthermore, Jeremeiah knows that things are only going to get worse; at least in the short run. So here comes Jeremiah's cousin hoping to get out while he can.

Remember now, Jeremiah, himself, is imprisoned and the land is well out of reach. In fact, he may never be able to use it or even set foot on it. Nevertheless, Jeremiah not only agrees to the purchase, he goes to great lengths to ensure that all the documentation is done correctly and that there are witnesses to seal the deal. The point of Jeremiah’s actions and, indeed, the point of the story itself is a demonstration of hope. Though Jeremiah understands that Judah is being judged and that there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth, he also understands that God is faithful. The Lord will ultimately remember his people and keep the promises that he has made to them despite their unfaithfulness.

Like King Zedekiah, most of us would prefer to hear the good word from the prophet. We would like to hear how things are going to get better and soon. And sometimes that is the message. But sometimes the Lord has work to do, and sometimes that work is extended. Perhaps we have so turned away from God or gotten the world so far out of balance that it is going to take some time for God to set things right. The way that we respond to this says a lot about us.

Jeremiah’s actions in chapter 32 are a statement of hope and encouragement for his people. He wants to assure them that God is faithful though it might not seem that way in the moment. To those present that day in the courtyard, it surely must have seemed like Jeremiah was a complete fool. Nevertheless, he understood something that the people had forgotten.

There is a saying, “Live your life in such a way that it makes no sense apart from the existence of God.” The point here is not that we go out and make foolish real estate decisions or spend dwindling cash deposits on renovating our church buildings. It is rather to see, believe and act in ways that demonstrates our faith in God. It is to live as though we truly understand that no matter how things seem at the moment, God is good and God holds the future.

I commend the leadership of Saint Francis for acting courageously. We might have offered a thousand reasons why we can't or should not do such things but instead we stepped forward in faith, trusting God and one another. May God look with favor upon this courage, bless our fellowship and show us how we can serve Christ as we continue to move forward.