Readings FIRST LESSON The first lesson is from Growing Strong at Broken Places by Paula Ripple Both my hands shaped this pot. And, the place where it actually forms is a place of tension between the pressure applied from the outside and the pressure of the hand on the inside. That’s the way my life has been. Sadness and death and misfortune and the love of friends and all the things that happened to me that I didn’t even choose. All of that influenced my life. But, there are things I believe in about myself, my faith in God and the love of some friends that worked on the insides of me. My life, like this pot, is the result of what happened on the outside and what was going on inside of me. Life, like this pot, comes to be in places of tension. Life comes to be when we learn how to avoid looking for answers and finally learn how to ask the questions that will bring us to life. SECOND LESSON The second lesson is from the Gospel of Luke, Chapter 12 verses 32 through 40 “Let your loins be girded and your lamps burning, and be like those who are waiting for their sovereign to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door at once when the sovereign comes and knocks. Blessed are those servants who are then found awake; truly I say to you, the sovereign will be girded and have them sit at the table, and will come and serve them. If the sovereign comes in the second watch, or in the third, and finds them so, blessed are those servants! “But know this, that if the householder had known at what hour the thief was coming, that householder would not have left the house to be broken into. You also must be ready, for the Human One is coming at an unexpected hour.”
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This Week's Sermon Date: August 8, 2010 Title: Are You Ready ? Message Delivered By: Rev. Dr. Joe McMurray One thing we have a lot of in Key West, other than idle gossip, is sand. Did you know that the most common element of sand in inland, non-tropical coastal settings is silica, usually in the form of quartz, which, because of its chemical qualities and its hardness, is quite resistant to weather. The composition of sand varies, of course, depending on local rock sources and conditions. White sand found in tropical and subtropical coastal settings is composed of limestone, with elements of coral and shell fragments. Other sand is derived from the erosion of granite. Some sands contain elements derived from volcanic rock and lava. Other sands have iron impurities within the quartz crystals of the sand, and contain garnets and small gemstones. Sand is transported by wind and water and deposited in the form of beaches, dunes, sand pits, and sand bars. Study of individual sand grains can reveal much historically as to its origin and the source of its transport. Sand transported long distances by water or wind is usually rounded, with characteristic patterns scratched on its surface. Meanwhile, sand is a main component of concrete, which is used as a foundation for our tallest and strongest buildings. Molding sand is the principal component in glass manufacturing. Sand is used to manufacture bricks, and is also used in landscaping. It’s used to restore our beaches when shoreline erosion occurs. Sandbags are used for protection against floods. Think of what sand used to be in its original form—part of huge pieces of rock, stone, and granite. Then consider how these huge, mammoth rocks and boulders were impacted by simple winds and soft rains, creating sand from that. What we are left with – these tiny particles – might seem impossible. Even over time, in the best of circumstances, it seems unlikely that the millions of miles of coastline and millions of acres of inlands could be composed of these tiny particles of rock. But there is enough sand in the world to prove that it happens; that even the largest and most virulent surfaces on earth can be transmuted and transported in their new form, and become some of the softest, smallest materials on earth. And these tiny particles, in turn, when put together or are mixed with other elements, are transformed into powerful agents of strength, stamina, and stability that defy logic or understanding. The human heart is like a grain of sand. There are billions of human hearts in the world. Each is unique and different, yet very much the same. One human heart alone may not seem to make a huge difference. But together—collectively—there is nothing the human heart cannot conquer. When we realize and understand how powerful that is, we then enable ourselves to lose the parts of the ego that appeal to our desire to branch off and be recognized for our individual achievements, rather than what we can achieve together. Please pray with me: God, we are strong as one community composed of many different, unique, and valuable pieces. Alone, we can accomplish good things in the world; collectively, we can achieve great things, we can move mountains and catch the attention of God. Give us a vision, God, that will keep us focused on those things that enable us to make a real difference in the world—to bring an end to suffering and injustice—and to ensure that all God’s people are loved and cared for. Give us this vision God, and help us to see. And may my words and all of our thoughts be filled with honor and praise to you. Amen. It’s quite obvious in life that in order to get ready, we have to know what we’re getting ready for. Not only good deeds toward others will matter, according to Luke, for we may do good for entirely the wrong reasons—and there is more to living a faithful and spiritual life than generosity. It is also our intention and our purpose that will count—how we treat one another in all aspects of life, across all the boundaries and intersections of life—that judge our character and our essence. Charity and generosity are only parts of it. “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Our hearts will follow our deeds; our deeds will determine what is in our hearts. The focus of the two parables Jesus told to his disciples, according to most scholars, deals with the spiritual preparation one must undertake to be ready for the end times—to ready ourselves for the afterlife—or, more specifically, when the Messiah would come to put everything right with the world. But for our purposes today, let’s consider readiness as a significant factor in our own lives in the present, not necessarily looking forward to what comes next. For none of us truly knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what the afterlife will be. I have had conversations with many learned people, educated people; I’ve spoken with loved ones, and with teachers and mentors of great faith. I’ve read countless books and heard multiple theories, as I’m sure all of us have about all of this. Do you ever wonder, as I have, if, just like life, where we have so many differing views of things, so many points of view—what if all of our envisioning is true—perhaps there is room for all of our beliefs about what comes next. Perhaps in an older version of religious belief, God will indeed be an anthropomorphic being who is visibly seen as a living, breathing person, taking the role as our great father God in heaven. Perhaps we will be like the little sheep as Jesus’ words indicated when he addressed the disciples in this morning’s gospel. In such a vision, God as our Shepherd, watches over and guides us. Or perhaps God will be like a grandmother, a sensitive and wise creature with a sparkle in her eye that will be easy to spot when we please, or will be conspicuously absent when we disappoint. Perhaps there will be streets paved with gold bricks, and many mansions will dot the landscape; and we will have our own amazing room in one of those mansions. Perhaps God will be only a presence or Spirit, broader and bigger than anything we can comprehend—bigger even than space or what we consider the Universe. Perhaps God is love and only love; so that when we envision a world without love, we will experience a world without God, where God is only a distant vision and a distant hope. Imagine if all these things were true—that there were spirits that walked the earth; that our human incarnation was only our first incarnation; that we might be reincarnated as another human or another living being. Perhaps as unhappy spirits we might disturb others as ghost-like specters that will find happiness only when our spirits find peace. Perhaps those we have loved hover over us like angels, and guard and protect us and offer direction to us when we need it. Perhaps there is another level of knowing that we will encounter, where our spirits must learn, as we do now, as they move into the next phase of our existence—to begin over again; to accomplish those things we have not aspired to. What if all of it is true; and what if none of it is true? What if there is nothing? What if there is only darkness, emptiness or unconsciousness? For what are we preparing, then? What are we getting ready for? Well, do we not, as human beings—as both the physical and spiritual beings that we are now—still have something to strive for? Even if all or none of this were true, do we not still know the difference between right and wrong, between good and evil, between life-giving grace and destructive injustice? Do we not still know the difference between soulfulness and heartlessness; between humility and pride; or between compassion and indifference? All the more reason that if we believe in one or many or other existences beyond our present condition, in order to be ready, we must ensure that our human house is in order, that the cracks and holes in our hearts are patched and painted, that we can live with the tension between brokenness and healing and find satisfaction in that in-between place. As we heard in our First Lesson, the woman potter was the creator of this new vessel. She was the cause of the tension between inside and outside. All of her life informed her in this new pot she crafted. Those parts of her life that reflected the great questions she pondered provided added tension—a tension that then rewarded the pot by creating more places of strength where the tensions had offset one another. So even when we do not know, except for that which we trust and invest our faith, we bring ourselves closer to what Jesus asked of his disciples: “You must be ready.” Speaking of readiness, I had a lengthy conversation with someone yesterday about life in general. We discussed some of the principles and learnings of life—such as letting go of those things we cannot control; releasing the feelings of discomfort that remain in the wake of unhealed relationships that have gone sour; surrendering to God those things in our lives that cannot be fixed no matter how strong our desire or how deliberate our intention. Some things just will not be healed—not because of our lack of desire—but by the choices of others—and we must live with the consequences. These, too, are things we must consider as we prepare ourselves in readiness. We agreed that the elements within us of pain and suffering, fear and regret, worry and consternation, cannot exist simultaneously with joy, love, and passion. The essence of positivity cannot exist or survive or thrive while negativity holds supreme power over us. The fruitful possibilities of life cannot find room to be nurtured and to grow if we are filled with negativity. These elements are the spaces within us. If the spaces are full, there is nothing left to occupy, for no space remains. We know we cannot simply dismiss these spaces because they still exist, however unmoved they remain. But if we diminish those places of want—give them less attention and energy—we create space for good and free up more spaces to hold joy, passion, desire, and grace. Surrendering to God is the only answer. Yet another element exists. To avoid repeating these patterns—in order to move forward—we must responsibly ask what is it about us that attracts these situations and relationships to our lives? Is there something we do, some signal we send, some energy we emit, some magnetic field that draws us to the very things we want to avoid? This constantly bears watching. People approach me all the time who continue to repeat the issues that have plagued them their whole lives. And I am not different. The errors in judgment that I make seem to repeat over time, regardless of the vow I make that “I’ll never do that again!” Perhaps corrections in our approach to people, attitude adjustments, compassion, letting go of perfection, not having so much invested in the results we want. Each of these things must be examined. If we remained consumed by worry; if we are constantly stressed; if we are filled with fear of the known or of the unknown—then there is no room reserved within us for hope. There is no safe ground for joy to blossom. There is no room for compassion, love, desire or grace because these opposite entities cannot thrive and grow at the same time. We must constantly be in a place of readiness, prepared for whatever may come, putting our bodies, our minds, and our spirits in the best possible position to respond to God, however God calls to us. May we continue to follow where God is leading. Amen.
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Selected Past Sermons