Drink Upstream

Even on Such A Day

We prattle about your sovereignty...especially we Calvinists;
   all about all things working together for good,
   all about your watchful care and your severe mercies.
And then we are drawn up short;
   by terror that strikes us, in our privilege, as insane;
   by violence that shatters our illusions of well-being;
   by death that reminds us of our at-risk mortality;
   by smoke and fire that have the recurring smell of ovens.
We are bewildered, undone, and frightened,
   and then intrude the cadences of these old poets:
       the cadences of fidelity and righteousness;
   the sounds of justice and judgment;
       the images of Sodom and Gomorrah;
       the imperatives of widows and orphans.
Even on such a day we are not minded to yield on your sovereignty,
   We are, we confess, sobered, put off, placed in dread,
       that you are lord as well as friend,
       that you are hidden as well as visible,
       that you are silent as well as reassuring.
You are our God.  That is enough for us ... but just barely.
We pray in the name of the wounded flesh of Jesus.  Amen.

On Reading Isaiah 1, September 11, 2001.
From Awed to Heaven, Rooted in Earth: Prayers of Walter Brueggemann

Run for the Fallen

One of my favorite political and media critical commentaries comes from Moblogic.tv. Their writer-editor-producers manage to swing effortlessly from humorous episodes one day to poignant and moving the next.

Today's episode is of the poignant and moving variety.

Also, you should check out one from several weeks back called Ten-Foot Pole. Or you can look at the series on the Sean Bell verdict, culminating in the arrest of the show's host, Lindsay Campbell.

A good day to remember....

Well...I'm back too.  I've missed the blog, and while I've not got much to say about sermon writing, I do have lots to say about other things, so I'll do my best to keep up.

But today....today is a day for remembering.  And I can't think of a better way to remember than with the Boss.  Give this a listen, and read while you do.  It'll take you back....

Bruce Springsteen:  The Rising

Cant see nothin in front of me
Cant see nothin coming up behind
I make my way through this darkness
I cant feel nothing but this chain that binds me
Lost track of how far Ive gone
How far Ive gone, how high Ive climbed
On my backs a sixty pound stone
On my shoulder a half mile of line

Come on up for the rising
Come on up, lay your hands in mine
Come on up for the rising
Come on up for the rising tonight

Left the house this morning
Bells ringing filled the air
Wearin the cross of my calling
On wheels of fire I come rollin down here

Come on up for the rising
Come on up, lay your hands in mine
Come on up for the rising
Come on up for the rising tonight

Li,li, li,li,li,li, li,li,li

Theres spirits above and behind me
Faces gone black, eyes burnin bright
May their precious blood bind me
Lord, as I stand before your fiery light

Li,li, li,li,li,li, li,li,li

I see you mary in the garden
In the garden of a thousand sighs
Theres holy pictures of our children
Dancin in a sky filled with light
May I feel your arms around me
May I feel your blood mix with mine
A dream of life comes to me
Like a catfish dancin on the end of my line

Sky of blackness and sorrow ( a dream of life)
Sky of love, sky of tears (a dream of life)
Sky of glory and sadness ( a dream of life)
Sky of mercy, sky of fear ( a dream of life)
Sky of memory and shadow ( a dream of life)
Your burnin wind fills my arms tonight
Sky of longing and emptiness (a dream of life)
Sky of fullness, sky of blessed life

Come on up for the rising
Come on up, lay your hands in mine
Come on up for the rising
Come on up for the rising tonight

Li,li, li,li,li,li, li,li,li

Sermon-crafting, Listening to the Text

In seminary, we often interviewed one another about Biblical texts during sermon prep in order to gain new insights, to share experiences, and to open new preaching paths. When I was an intern in Lynnville, TN, I had two meetings during the week that took this process even further. One was a lectionary study group (the Lewisburg Lectionary League) that gathered five or six Presbyterian pastors to discuss the text. Wednesday mornings, driving to Lewisburg, I often thought of Karl Barth, hiking to a neighboring German village to meet all day with local colleagues and then hiking back to preach the next morning.

My other meeting was Lynnville Pres's Bible Study (and informal worship committee), where we read the texts for each week and I opened the floor to thoughts and reactions from the congregants gathered there. Of the two, this discussion was where my weekly sermon was born. Questions raised, connections made, problems found, those Monday night studiers gave me plenty to consider during the next six days of sermon writing (I include Sunday as a writing day). Since that time, this birthplace of the sermon has been lost as I've moved on to only occasional preaching; it requires a dedicated group of listeners.

So, in this first week of blog entries, I am turning my ears to y'all, our readers. The two texts are these: Matthew 20:1-16 and Exodus 16:2-15. If you get a chance, please read these texts. And then comment with your thoughts. What stands out to you? What do you see in these words of Scripture? And what do you hear for the Church (capitalized or not, however you understand it) in this time and this nation/world?

Thank you to anyone who takes the time to do this, to walk this journey with me.

Sermon-crafting, A Survey

On September 21, I have the honor of preaching again at the church where I work. Before I do, though, I wanted to put a question out to anyone who reads this:

What do you expect of a sermon? Or rephrased: what do you listen for when a minister preaches?

As an example answer, I'll give you what I have often heard. Many people tell me that they expect to be "spiritually fed" by a sermon. The job of the minister is like that of a server, presenting nourishment for the soul that is from God.

Now, that's not my thought. I'm just passing along an answer I have heard from some. I'm searching now for other answers.

Further Upstream

A couple of our (two) loyal readers have asked me lately, "Where did this blog go?" I was suprised to learn that though our following may have been small, it was (ever so slightly) dedicated.

Over the past few months, I kept telling myself that one day I would start another blog, one meant to be more self-referential, more personal. One day I would create some sort of discipline, blog early, blog often (oh, wait, that's Bebo). One day... One day, one day. I don't know when this 'one day' is, or why I kept referring to it, but every time I considered installing a fresh copy of Wordpress on my own domain, or clicking the Typepad "14-day trial" button, I hesitated. "The Drink Upstream blog is still here, occupying some cloud of electrons on the ever more ubiquitous Internet. Why not post here?" A funny question to keep asking myself.

Not that I expected my self to answer back.

However, I did want an answer.

Well, it's been four and a half months, and tonight I do have some free time while waiting for those few medical emergencies that require a hospital chaplain And therefore--well--I have time to post. Which makes this is a good evening to answer my own question: Why not post here?

Sure, that question doesn't truly lend itself to an answer. A post--now that will be an answer.

In the hopes that this stream is like an old water pump, I've got me a glass of water. Running further up the hill, I'm pouring a small trickle of words into the dried bed, letting it moisten the dirt, maybe only to see what happens. I won't promise a torrent. Heck, I can't even promise a marginal trickle enough to drink. But here it is, a new entry, a new assemblage of electrons to whet the stream's thirst.

drip, drip, drip, slush, slush, slush... glug? splash?