visioning

Sunday’s Sermon – Key Changes – Acts 9:1-20

May 5, 2019 Leave a Comment

This sermon was preached as a part of “Visioning Sunday,” sharing and celebrating God’s call to a new chapter together at Heritage. For more about the context of our new mission/vision statement as well as core values, please go to https://www.heritagepres.com/visioning/

If there’s one thing we post-Resurrection people know about God, it’s that our God is a God of tremendous change. Change is at the heart of our theological identity. Throughout the biblical narrative we see how God is changing the world, and perhaps more importantly, changing the people who are in it. Our text from Acts 9 delivers on this in dramatic fashion. Clearly Saul undergoes a tremendous change on the road to Damascus. He makes an about face, quite literally turning his life around. We hear songs of praise about “seeing the light.” We marvel in his apparent conversion and his dramatic experience of Christ along the way. We say to each other, “yes, this is the kind of change God brings about.”

This text paired with our visioning might bring about some anxiety to you this morning as we think about what the future holds for our congregation. As we consider the proposed mission and vision statement and core values, we become keenly aware that change is on the horizon. Our next step, strategic planning, will include analyzing ministries and sharing ideas for new initiatives. It seems that change is inevitable.

David LaMotte, a singer/songwriter, peacemaker and speaker, writes about change in a book titled Worldchanging 101: Challenging the Myth of Powerlessness. He challenges the ways we often view change and our role in it in the world in relation to a “Hero Narrative.” That is, we asasume that “things change when someone extraordinary encounters a moment of crisis and does something dramatic[1].” Sound familiar? We are quick to assume that all of our experiences of great change, in life or in faith, have to happen like they did with Saul on the road to Damascus. But nestled within this text is another story of change that I think might be more compelling and applicable as we engage in visioning together in the character of Ananias.

Have you ever been singing along to your favorite song on the radio, grooving with your windows down, drumming on the steering wheel, when all of a sudden the music shifts? A bridge comes in, throwing you off the predictable verse and chorus pattern and changing the feel of the song? Often, this shift brings along something else with it – a key change. Key changes present a similar melody heard in a different way. They indicate growth. They challenge us – that note that was just at the top of our range now threatens to be out of reach. They can change the whole feel of the song. Although they are less dramatic than say, changing the radio station entirely to get to a new song, I think these more subtle changes, key changes, add incredible dimension to our favorite songs, and are worth our attention and appreciation. They remind us that change isn’t always about learning a totally different song; it’s about modulation, which simply adds interest and dimension to the rich melody and pattern that already is there.

This is the story of Ananias. Not much is said about him, but we assume he’s your status-quo new Christian. He’s a faithful disciple living to Damascus, and like any good disciple, has volunteered when called upon by God. That is, until he hears what God wants him to do. You can imagine him saying, “Hold on just a minute, God, you want me to do WHAT? Don’t you know WHO this guy is? He’s out to get all of us, by any means necessary. You’ve got to be kidding me.” God, of course, doesn’t miss a beat, assuring Ananias that God does know what God is doing. God is in charge, and will take care of what needs to be taken care of in regards to Saul. But God has bigger plans for Saul that involve sharing the most incredible story of all to not only God’s people Israel, but to the Gentiles, too. Although it shouldn’t be too surprising to Ananias or us that God uses an imperfect person with a troubled past to share the good news, the reality of it being Saul, an active, avid, rabid persecutor of Christians, makes it almost impossible to imagine, much less support. Some doubt is understandable and expected. After all, “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” And we are all familiar with the idea of “fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” We approach things cautiously, particularly when it involves personal risk of harm. This, in the most critical of ways, is the experience of Ananias.

To be clear, God isn’t asking Ananias to have the kind of reversal or conversion that it appears Saul is undergoing. But God is asking Ananias to change his tune, to elevate his discipleship to a new level that may very well be a reach for him. God is asking Ananias to experience a tremendous life-view change that widens his understanding of who is included in God’s kingdom, who God is calling to lead, and what it literally looks like to follow Christ.

David LaMotte reminds us that,

It is not naïve to think that you can change the world. In fact, it is naïve to think that you could possibly be in the world and not change it. Everything you do changes the world whether you like it or not. So the questions we must ask ourselves are, ‘Which changes will we make?’, and ‘How will we go about making them?’[2]

Cue the bridge and key change, because Ananias follows God’s instructions. He enters the house and completes the task at hand, laying his hands on one who by all accounts would be his enemy, and trusting the Holy Spirit to cover the rest. It is an incredible moment of reconciliation, as Ananias names Saul as a brother in faith. His faithfulness allows Saul to complete his conversion and go on to proclaim Jesus as Lord. And, of course, we know that Paul’s story doesn’t end here. He has a lot more to say about Christ, and the church is richer because of his wisdom and writings even today.

For Ananias, change came because of God’s vision, and his willingness to listen. Even when it seemed counterintuitive, he was willing to shift, just a little bit, and open himself to the possibility that God had a bigger perspective than he did. He trusted in God’s guidance and was willing to follow and see where it led.

I love that this is the text for us today, because it reminds us that we don’t have to rewrite the songs or invent a totally new melody in order to be a part of what God is doing. Perhaps we are simply called to take the good news that we know and put it through a key change. That’s what our Visioning process is all about. It’s less about those grand hero moments and sweeping changes, and instead about finding out the work that is ours to do next. To be willing, as Ananias was, to discover God’s vision and have the courage to say we will try to be disciples in ways that are familiar AND in ways that are surprising. So that the song God has given us, as individuals and as a community of faith, might take on new life to carry us into the future. May it be so. Amen.

~sermon by Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford, Heritage Presbyterian Church, May 5, 2019

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[1] David LaMotte, Worldchanging 101: Challenging the Myth of Powerlessness. (Black Mountain, NC: Dryad Publishing, 2014).

[2] LaMotte.

Sunday’s Sermon – Sharing Our Stories – John 20:30-31, 21:25

September 23, 2018 Leave a Comment

What’s your story? If you often meet new people, chances are you have figured out a way to answer the question “tell us a little bit about yourself” in a somewhat succinct way. In conferences and retreats, I’ve had leaders instruct us to find a partner and each spend 1-2 minutes telling our life story to each other. It seems both a really long time, and not nearly enough time to get it all in, so you’re forced to pick and choose what is the most important to you, at least for that moment in time.

Everyone has a story to tell. The stories we tell are reflections of who we have been, who we are today, and who we want to be. Telling them matters. Listening to them matters even more. Herbert Anderson and Edward Foley say:

Stories make claims on our minds and hearts, often before we know why or how . .. Stories hold us together and keep us apart. We tell stories in order to live . . . Stories are privileged and imaginative acts of self-interpretation[i].

As people of God, we are a storytelling people. From the very beginning, God’s story has been told. Our text from Deuteronomy 6 reminds us of this rich heritage. Immediately following the reading of the Ten Commandments this is what they are to do: pass the story on. It’s important. Tell it not just to your children, but to your children’s children. This is what will help you prosper and have life. These are sacred words and instructions. Keep them close to you. Bind them to your very person so they are always close at hand, a tangible reminder of the God who brought you out of slavery in Egypt and is still with you today. For the people of Israel, wandering in the wilderness, this is a particularly important reminder. They are away from their homes, from all that they know, uncertain of their future. In these challenging times, they turn to the stories of their faith to remind them of God’s presence. For a displaced people, it is the stories that kept them going and kept them alive, connected to their homeland and looking forward to the promise of a better tomorrow.

Storytelling is the basis of our written Scriptures, which began as oral traditions that eventually made their way to parchment and paper and now pixels on a smartphone. But regardless of how they are transmitted, the Gospel of John spells out the reason for these books – they are written so that we might believe and have life in Jesus’ name. The Bible is God’s Story. Each time we open its pages, we dive into the incredible witness of Scripture from beginning to end. We are captivated by the creative energy and careful guidance of Israel. We are startled by prophetic proclamations. We are humbled and rejoice in the example and teachings of Jesus and the powerful good news of Christ’s death and resurrection. We see how the early church wrestled with how to be disciples in a changing world. Our exploration of the Bible, though, is not just an advanced literature or history course. These stories weren’t just written to be taken as factual footnotes or a narrative resume for the Divine. Rather, they were written so that they would have an impact on us. They are stories to captivate our hearts, our souls, our minds, and to prompt us into action.

The Bible is God’s story. The Bible is also our story. When we study it, we learn about people of faith throughout the centuries. We may even discover people like us – the stories of Scripture include an assortment of characters – poor and rich, young and old, male and female, hopeful and cynical – and God works through them all. Like the people in Scripture, we too have our stories of faith. They are moments where we have come to know who God is in profound ways, times when we have wrestled with angels and demons and struggled to understand, when we have rested in God’s presence or in the comfort of God’s embrace as we wept, and when we have danced for joy in the presence of the Lord. They are our stories of faith.

God’s story so powerful, so incredible, so important, that we have to gather together to tell it to each other. That’s what worship is each week – an opportunity to retell God’s story to each other, and to celebrate how God’s story has intersected with ours. Through worship, we can interpret our stories in light of the story of Jesus and God’s overwhelming love for us. We can better make sense of our own stories and of the stories of the world, and we can rest and trust in the author of our stories, giving praise to a God who is the alpha and omega, the beginning and end of all stories.

When our stories and God’s story intersects, discipleship is the result. Living a life of faith means living into God’s stories and making them our own. It begins with studying them, reading and talking about them to the point that they become woven into your very being. For many this happens with a favorite story of verse, such as Psalm 23, that comes quickly to the surface when we are in need of comfort or reassurance. But the more we engage in our understanding of God’s story, the more readily these stories will come to us in a variety of circumstances, both challenging and celebratory. And, perhaps even more important than a litany of memory verses, we begin to embody the values and ideals God exemplifies and encourages in these texts. We become storytellers.

This fall, a large part of our visioning process is helping tell the stories of our lives and the life and ministry of this congregation. The reflections in worship two weeks ago, along with upcoming opportunities for conversations, help us think about where we have been and who we are now, in order to imagine who God is calling us to be. Visioning is about continuing to write the story, and when it is done well, we remember that it is not just a story of our own design; it is God’s story, too.

God’s stories are begging to be told, not just by the preacher on a Sunday morning, but by each and every one of us day in and day out as we seek to be a part of God’s story. So this morning, we’re going to get a little practice. I invite you to take a few moments to collect your thoughts, then find a friend (or two or three) and spend some time sharing a story of your faith. You can use the questions in your bulletin insert as a guide if you like. It can be as simple as your favorite Bible story or verse and why it matters to you. It can be a time when you have felt particularly close or particularly far from God. It can be a story of your past, your present, or even a story you hope for in your future. Whatever your story is, I invite you to share it with someone else today. This is just a taste or sample of what it is like, of course – try to only speak for a few minutes to allow others to have a turn – but perhaps it’s a practice we can engage in more regularly as a community of God’s people. As we explore God’s Story, let’s share it and our own stories with each other. Because when we do, we will be a witness to a living and active God, who continues to write all of our stories – even today, even now. This is God’s Story. This is Our Story. May it continue to unfold. Amen.

From bulletin insert: Sharing Our Stories
Consider these questions about your faith story:
• What is one of your favorite memories of church or experiences in faith?
• Who helped you learn about God on your faith journey?
• Where is a time or place you have felt closest to God?
• What are some of your favorite Bible stories or verses?
• What is one puzzling question you have about God or faith?

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
September 23, 2018

[i] Herbert Anderson and Edward Foley, Mighty Stories, Dangerous Rituals: Weaving Together the Human and the Divine. (San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass, 1998).

Sunday’s Sermon – What’s In A Name? – Mark 8:27-30

September 16, 2018 Leave a Comment

Preparing to have a child is full of a ton of decisions, and endless questions from friends, family, doctors, even strangers in the check-out line. As the due date gets closer, one becomes more common – “what are you going to name him?” Of all the decisions you make, naming your child can be one of the most difficult. Do you pick a name that reflects names that run in the family? Are you looking for a name that is traditional, trendy, or totally unique? Will you name your child after a fruit or vegetable? What kind of nicknames might come from this name? Is it going to sound right with your last name, or give your little on an awkward set of initials? It’s easy to overthink this, but also get stuck in a lot of places. And that’s without the commentary other people are bound to give if you share your name early. Even in modern society, naming has a lot of pressure; this is the name that likely will reflect and maybe shape your child’s identity for the rest of their life. It is one of the first things that we share about a baby’s arrival, and it’s kind of a big deal. Like in the opening sequence of the movie The Lion King, when all the animals come to Pride Rock as “The Circle of Life” plays, and Rafiki lifts up the little lion cub, presenting “Simba” to the entire kingdom. It is dramatic and full of meaning, not just for the one being named, but for the whole community.

The opening verses of Mark’s gospel are a similar proclamation, as the evangelist says “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. (Mark 1:1)” In this, he makes a bold assertion, a royal proclamation if you will, that this is not just any ordinary person or story. This is Jesus Christ, christos in the Greek, which means “anointed one” and would have connections with the anointing of kings in ancient Israel. “Christ” is not a last name for Jesus; it is a proclamation of his identity, and shapes everything in the story that follows. The next eight chapters in Mark demonstrate a flyover of Jesus’ ministry along the sea and in the wilderness, full of stories of healings and miracles. Along the way, we hear the buzz among the people of Galilee. Jesus casts out an unclean spirit and they ask “who is this?” (1:27). He tells the paralytic that his sins are forgiven and the religious leaders question his authority, for “who can forgive but God alone?” (2:1-12). Jesus speaks in the storm and the disciples wonder “who is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” (4:41).

Halfway through the gospel, these murmurs turn from a quiet buzz to a direct question, a hinge in the narrative that shifts everything in the verses we read just a few moments ago as Jesus is on the way to Caesarea Philippi. This time, it is Jesus who asks the question. First, he inquires about what people are saying about him and his identity, almost as if testing the waters of gossip. The disciples answer with reports that indicate the overall reception of Jesus up to this point by the community, each with a significance that hints at a bigger answer.

In chapter 6, Herod Antipas is alarmed that Jesus is John the Baptist, which is a startling revelation for Herod just had him beheaded, so this would indicate he had risen from the dead. Resurrection would shake the very foundations of whomever was in power. Others said Elijah, which would have brought hope in Jewish hearts aching for God’s promised Messiah, as many expected Elijah’s presence to be a necessary prerequisite to a messianic appearance. Elijah is only one of two in the Hebrew scriptures who did not die, but was taken to be with God directly, and in a mighty fashion with a chariot of fire. But perhaps he was a prophet, which would have given reassurance to the people that God had not abandoned them, even though the people in the 1^st century were under Roman occupation and did not have their own king from the line of David[i]. All of these hinted at the expectations the people of God had for their redeemer and Savior. And yet, none were quite right. So Jesus pointedly asks again, “Who do you say that I am?”

He’s not looking for the textbook answer. As Andre Resner notes:

[Jesus] demands that they answer from their core. They cannot rely on hearsay – gossip theology – from politicians or theologians. They must take a personal stand[ii].

Of course, Peter is ready and quick to answer. He repeats the label given to readers in the very first verse of Mark’s gospel: “You are the christos,” the Messiah. All of the hopes and expectations for centuries of God’s people are met in this word.

Ding! Ding! Ding! We might expect a round of applause, gold star, or some other award. But what follows is the opposite. They’re told not to tell anyone about him. This is known as the “Messianic Secret,” and is a repeated instruction throughout the gospel. It’s not because they necessarily get the title wrong, but because even with the right answer, they don’t fully comprehend what it means. In the verses that follow these, Jesus describes what is to come, and dismantles the idea that the Messiah will overthrow everything in a blaze of glory. God’s power and authority is not going to look like they expect it to look. Instead it is a story that continues to Jerusalem and the cross.

His question isn’t looking to boost his own ego at the midpoint in the gospel, or determine the disciples’ approval rating of his ministry. It isn’t a test. Instead, as Dr. Karoline Lewis offers, this question posed to the disciples is:

It’s the moment when you come face-to-face with your own commitment, your own discipleship, your own identity. It’s the moment when you have to admit to what extent how you follow Jesus actually connects with some sort of confession of who you believe Jesus to be.

. . .

“Who do you say that I am?” is at the same time, “who will you say that you are?” That’s the rub of this question, the heart of its difficulty. If it we only had to provide an answer to Jesus’ question of his identity, that would be one thing. However, answering the question of Jesus’ identity is also having to give voice to our own[iii].

What was true for the disciples then is true for us today. If we claim Jesus to be the Christ, the Messiah, our Lord and Savior, then we are also asserting something bold about who we are choosing to be. And, even like Peter in his enthusiasm, in our eagerness to call ourselves Christian, we might not always slow down enough to think about all that it actually means. Wrapped in this question is a renewed invitation to discipleship. It is Jesus again standing at the shoreline, asking the disciples to follow him. And hearing it today offers us the opportunity to renew our own sense of discipleship as those who claim Jesus as Christ. We might ask ourselves what difference it makes for us to claim Jesus is the one in whom all of our hopes are realized. Does it make a difference in your life to profess this faith? How? Are we living as those who have truly been transformed by the good news of the Messiah, or are we just giving Jesus the head nod and going about our lives. Are our choices reflective of the faith we profess? This is what is asked as Jesus turns to us and says “Who do YOU say that I am?” It is a powerful moment for each of us to consider.

It is also beyond just our own individual relationships with Christ. If you look closer at his question, the word “you” actually is plural. Jesus isn’t asking for personal responses of allegiance from the disciples. He is asking for a collective understanding. Southern vernacular helps us articulate it better. In this passage, Jesus is asking: “Who do y’all” or perhaps better “all y’all” say that I am? It is a convicting statement for “the church” in many ways, and is one we should be answering continually as a community of faith. And I think we are seeking to do that here. In fact, I can name three ways it’s happening in our context right now.

At the 8:30 service, we affirm the Spirit’s call to Lisa Wolfgang to serve our congregation as a deacon. Part of her ordination vows is to affirm her faith, including a profession of Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, and in response we promise our support and prayers for her leadership along with our other officers. The ordination vows, which all elders, deacons, and ministers of word and sacrament make in the PC(USA), remind us of who we are called to be as those who claim Jesus as the Messiah. They talk about being faithful to the holy Scriptures, attentive to God’s guidance, respecting one another and seeking to live in peace, purity and unity. They call us to serve with energy, intelligence, imagination, and love. What a wonderful list of what it means to live into our faith!

At the 11:00 service, we have the joy of celebrating the sacrament of Baptism, our reminder that we are claimed as Christ’s own forever. Shelby’s parents, Drew and Kasey, will profess their faith in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, and immediately follow with a promise to raise her in that faith. Furthermore, we as a congregation make a promise to teach and support her on behalf of the entire Christian church, so that she may grow up to come to know the grace and love of God through Jesus Christ. Baptism reminds us that claiming Jesus as Christ not only proclaims grace and forgiveness, but places us in the context of a community who encourages and nurtures each other throughout our entire journey of faith. This is what it means to be a Christian, too.

Finally, many of you took part in our visioning process which launched last Sunday. There is still time to respond to our initial questions, from a written survey that’s available in the Narthex, to large pieces of paper for your notes near the coffee area, to the link that is available in this month’s newsletter or on our Facebook page. Our Visioning Team will begin its work with these responses, and coming soon will invite you to participate in further face-to-face conversations about who God is calling us to be as a congregation. Throughout this process, together we will be answering the question Jesus asked his disciples in Mark, professing who it is we believe Christ to be, and who we are called to be in response to that affirmation of faith.

And really, that’s what being the church is all about. Making sure that we hear that question from Jesus, put some time and energy into our answer, and then make sure the response we give is not just lip service, but reflected in the lives we lead as his disciples. Christ, or Messiah, has to be a name that makes a difference for us, both as individuals and as a community of faith. Otherwise, we’ve missed the point. So even as we blurt out our initial answer, Jesus calls us to pause for a moment, and think about all it means, for us and for the world. For what is in Jesus’ name? Everything. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
September 16, 2018

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[i] Summarizing Andre Resner, “Homiletical Perspective: Mark 8:27-30,” Feasting on the Gospels: Mark, Cynthia A. Jarvis and E. Elizabeth Johnson, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2014).
[ii] Ibid.
[iii] Karoline Lewis, “Who Do You Say That I Am?” Dear Working Preacher, September 16, 2018, https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5220, accessed 9/13/2018

Sunday’s Sermon – Be Thou My Vision – 1 Kings 3:3-14

September 9, 2018 Leave a Comment

God, give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed,
courage to change the things that should be changed,
and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other[i].

Sound familiar? These are the earliest form of the Serenity prayer, most-often attributed to American theologian Reinhold Niebuhr in the 1930s or 40s, perhaps inspired through his work in collaboration with other civic leaders of the time, such as long-time YWCE official Winnifred Crane Wygal[ii]. A variation is championed by Alcoholics Anonymous and other recovery groups as a model prayer of humility and desire for real change in the lives of the individual and the world, and it is second perhaps only to the Lord’s Prayer in terms of usage and familiarity.

In times of transition and change, it makes sense to ask God for guidance, and certainly for wisdom as we seek to figure things all out. To do so means that we acknowledge there is a higher power and we remember that we cannot do everything on our own. It also serves as our affirmation that we do not have to try to do so, for we have a guide and guardian, a companion on our journey in the one who loves us and calls us and claims us.

Our text this morning drops us in the midst of such a prayer. A bit of context to orient us:

The books known as First and Second Kings were once a single structure, the last book in a saga that included Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, and Samuel. It received its final shape in the early period of the Babylonian exile. Its intended audience would have included the leaders who were deported to Babylon, the poor who were left behind in Jerusalem, and the Jews who had taken refuge in Egypt[iii].

The story of Solomon provides identity for the people of God once again. It provides a meaning to life to replace what has been lost in defeat and exile, beginning with the story of a new king in the midst of a dream, with God appearing before him and asking what he wants.

Can you imagine if God showed up and asked you to name one thing you wanted? What would you answer? The image of God as almost a fairy godmother or genie in a lamp is generally not a favorable one to embrace theologically, but here, in the context of a dream, it opens the door to the enormity of possibilities that come from the involvement of the Almighty. The sky truly appears to be the limit for Solomon. It is interesting to note that the surrounding chapters, and indeed the totality of the story of Solomon, often present power struggles and conflicting personality traits within the king, who more often than not gives into the darker side of power and pride during his kingship. But here, even if just for a moment, we glimpse a humble leader who prayerfully asks for something as profound and meaningful as that classic Serenity Prayer that would follow centuries later.

In many Bibles, Solomon’s prayer is subtitled as a “prayer for wisdom,” with language that reveals the breadth and depth of such a request. In verse 9 he asks for an “understanding mind[iv],” which can also be translated or understood as a “discerning heart[v],” or as Eugene Peterson puts it, “a God-listening heart[vi].” This reminds us that wisdom can be measured in many different ways. It is distinct from just being “smart” or having a high IQ; it reflects a soundness of judgment based on knowledge and experience. In the context of prayer, wisdom is God-centered, involving a vision that comes not internally but externally from the Divine. A few weeks ago, one of our own members noted in a meeting that wisdom is about “taking a step back and having the ability to ‘breathe from your heart.’” That, for me, is a perfect encapsulation of this dream moment, and the desire expressed by Solomon.

In his prayer, Solomon is asking for his will and perception of the world to be in line with God’s. He is seeking a new vision for the people of God at a new time in their history:

Solomon does not need a rod and staff like Moses, because the Jews are not in captivity. Nor does he need military resources like his father David. The challenges before Solomon will be mostly administrative as he attempts to bring together tribes from the north and south under one united governing establishment[vii].

And so he seeks God’s guidance and insights. If he had known the Irish poet of the 8^th century, he might have broken out into the song played so beautifully by our bells and which we will sing later in the service: “Be Thou My Vision.”

Whether in song or in the Serenity prayer, or even joining Solomon himself, these are big prayers to pray. To seek wisdom and vision from God is a humble act of faith that releases a wave of unknowns as we dare to loosen our tight grips on the things we know and allow ourselves to be shaped by God in perhaps surprising ways. It means paying attention to things that we do without thinking, such as our very breath, and bringing an increased awareness of our own rhythms. It may feel unnatural at first, but once we get the hang of it, we often find that our breath deepens and we have a stronger connection to God and to one another. There, we find the same treasure as described in Proverbs, a book of wisdom sayings often attributed to Solomon himself, and we will become more faithful in our walk with our Lord.

Today, we are beginning some of that work as a community as we launch a Visioning process that will take the better part of the next year. Our hope is to have a collaborative, shared vision for the future of Heritage Presbyterian Church that all who are a part of our community – whether you have been a member since the early years or have just walked in our door – might be inspired by as we go about following Christ together here in Acworth.

It is a method of discernment that takes time, and will happen in several ways. In just a few moments, you will be given a short, four-question initial survey about your perceptions of our church. I hope that all of you will participate. Even if this is your first time, we would love to hear your thoughts and first impressions. We also want the thoughts of our children – Merry Willis and Barbara Jessee will meet them at the door by the PRAYground in just a few moments to spend more active time with these questions in the Choir Room. If you complete the survey this morning, you are welcome to place it in the offering plate as one of your gifts to God today. You can also bring it with you to our tailgate lunch and place it in a basket in the Fellowship Hall, or return it to the church office. During the tailgate, you can add other thoughts on these questions to larger papers at the entrance, and these questions along with more information about our process will also be sent in an e-mail newsletter tomorrow, with a link to an online survey with the same questions so that all may participate.

So, why take time for this today in the midst of worship? It’s more than just because you are all sitting here and hopefully paying attention. We are beginning here because we want to follow in the steps of Solomon’s dream-prayer, and to remind ourselves that before anything else, our hopes and dreams for our congregation are about our relationship with God. We are not just putting forth our own set of objectives and strategies; we are seeking wisdom from God. We are asking the Holy Spirit to infuse our work and help God’s vision be our vision for the future. This is the only way I know to truly and faithfully follow Christ – by remembering that he is the one leading us!

This is meant to be a time of prayer and reflection, both for our congregation and for us as individuals. I hope it will also inspire you to reflect on the places in your life where you desire God’s wisdom. What are you discerning right now, and how might you invite Christ to be an intentional companion with you in that journey? What things do you need to let go of a bit and allow the Spirit to help you see them in new ways, through God’s eyes? When we sing together, could “be thou my vision” be your prayer today?

As we begin this time of visioning, hear these words from Thomas Blair:

Wisdom has to do with whom we entrust ourselves to; who we know can fill our empty buckets; whom we most believe, trust, and confide in. If we do not know what resources we have, we cannot use them to make happen what we want to happen. If we do not know what we want to happen, then we will not even know what to wish for in the first place. Wisdom arrives when the soul discerns its destiny, when life aligns in sync with the soul[viii].

Friends, may we humbly enter a time of prayer and reflection, breathing in the spirit of God and seeking wisdom with understanding, God-listening hearts . . .

Shared in worship on September 9, this initial survey is also available online:
https://forms.office.com/Pages/ResponsePage.aspx?id=JkvAr5sI1ky58Co_KAkTvlK0GByoA79FkGuJUA8Ih2ZUN1JOWVhRNDRPWk9CQktWNFJKVVk5RUQ2UC4u

Survey Questions:

If you could name one thing that is most important to you regarding your involvement with HPC what would it be?
The things that concern me most about HPC are:
Where do you hope God will lead HPC in the next 3 years?
Other reflections about our church/congregation.

Follow the link above to submit your responses online, or return them to the church office (office@heritagepres.com). Additional paper copies are available in the Narthex, and can be returned in the offering plate on September 16.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
September 9, 2018

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[i] Fred Shapiro, “Who Wrote the Serenity Prayer?” July/August 2008 article in Yale Alumni Magazine, http://archives.yalealumnimagazine.com/issues/2008_07/serenity.html , accessed 9/6/2018.
[ii] For further discussion of authorship, see also https://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/11/us/11prayer.html.
[iii] Heather Murray Elkins, “Homiletical Perspective: 1 Kings 3:5-12,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011).
[iv] New Revised Standard Version.
[v] New International Version. The King James Version uses “an understanding heart.”
[vi] The Message (a paraphrase by Eugene Peterson).
[vii] John L. Thomas, Jr, “Theological Perspective: 1 Kings 3:5-12,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011).
[viii] Thomas W. Blair, “Pastoral Perspective: 1 Kings 3:5-12,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011).

Sunday’s Sermon – Listen. Look. Arise. – Song of Solomon 2:8-17

September 2, 2018 Leave a Comment

Imagine for a moment, life before Caller ID. The phone would ring, and you would not know who it was. So, you’d answer, and moments later some sort of greeting would come from the voice on the other end. I remember calling my grandfather, and how there would always be a slight pause after I chirped “Hi Paw-Paw!” I could hear him smile on the other end, and the warmth in the tone of his voice carried across the line. “Well, Elizabeth Kaye” he would always say, using my full name more often than not. It was more than just a cursory interaction to get conversation going; it was a moment of discovery and shared connection. He knew my voice. Whose voices do you recognize without a name on a screen or their face in front of you – parents? a best friend? I’ve found that even without seeing, I can pretty quickly determine whether a crying child belongs to me or not. Even the youngest infants will turn at a mother’s voice. Our ears seem trained on some voices, whether by instinct or simply hearing them more often.

Today’s text from the Song of Solomon begins with such a warm connection, as the poet hears the voice of her beloved, bounding in her direction. This book, not often one read from the pulpit, is a beautiful poetic masterpiece tucked into our Biblical canon, offering a sensual and profound reflection on one of life’s greatest gifts – love. The lyrics are descriptive and erotic, celebrating physical aspects of love and affection that may even make us blush when read, but laid out before us without shame. Instead, in this book we find a celebration of love the way it is meant to be, marked by passion and the sensuality of nature alongside mutual and reciprocal affection filled with delight.

Throughout the centuries of biblical interpretation, people of God have wrestled with what to make of it. Some have wondered if these are more historical poems referring to an actual human couple, such as Solomon, to whom the book is attributed, and a peasant bride. Contemporary scholars have offered that perhaps these are more anonymous secular ones, noting the similarities in style and function to Egyptian, Arabic, and Syrian love poems from around the same time. The most classic interpretation, is that it seems to serve as a masterful allegory of God’s love for Israel, although like the book of Esther, it never mentions the name of God directly. This morning, I’d like to offer a thought that resonated with me this week: rather than trying to draw a distinction between history and allegory, perhaps they aren’t really that different after all in relation to this book helping us better understand love – both in our relationships with others and in our relationship with God. Julia O’Brien notes that the lives of the soul and of the body are not that distinct, saying:

To be in love is to live beyond the boundaries of the self and to enter a realm of sheer delight, in which the human and divine can merge. Human love both allows us to celebrate God through our bodies and educates us in loving and being loved . . . [Song of Solomon] celebrates and perhaps even creates the feelings of passionate desiring and knowing oneself to be passionately desired. While loving and being loved are not the only goals of human existence, they can be transformative experiences that not only lead us to praise the One who makes joy possible but also exercise our capacities for love. Glimpsing oneself not as perfect but perfect for someone, wanted, sought after, is a cause for singing both secular love songs and hymns[i].

This passage in particular invites us into the joyful anticipation of being connected – to nature, to one another, and to God. It is a song of hope, brimming with energy, inspiring us to enter a new season of being in the world where we might be transformed by the renewing power of love, be it human or divine. How fitting to come to this text on the cusp of the beginning of fall and at a time in our church year when several new things are springing up around us. Next week, we will celebrate another beginning of learning and growing together in faith, and at the same time launch a longer visioning process in which we hope to be attentive to God’s guidance for our congregation in the future. Today’s verses prepare us for such a new vision and fresh start, with encouragement for how we might best engage with each other and with God in the process. It can be summarized in 3 verbs that almost outline our text: Listen, Look, and Arise.

Listen. That is what catches our attention, along with the poetess, at the beginning of the passage. Listening implies a certain posture of readiness; not being so self-involved or fixated on a task at hand that we become oblivious to the world around us. To listen to another person is one of the greatest gifts we can give one another. Rather than just waiting to insert our opinion, when we are truly listening, we are setting our own egos aside and are fully engrossed in accepting the gift of what someone else has to say to us. In a moment, our listening affirms that person’s self and says “I care about you. I’m here.” It is the most powerful relationship tool we can have with each other, yet it is one of the most difficult ones to maintain in the midst of all the noise around us.

In the case of our faith, listening for God’s voice can feel like a daunting task. It is awkward and confusing as we try to discern which is God’s voice and which are the voices around us. Nevertheless, we are called to listen for it, attentively, prayerfully. To do so well means engaging in a deep relationship with our Creator. The more we spend time in conversation with God, otherwise known as prayer, and the more we engage with God’s Word as revealed in Scripture, the sooner we begin to pick up on the whispers of God’s voice around us. Listening, with those we love, and with God, is an activity marked by relationship. Even before we are able to see what is coming, we hear the voice of our beloved.

When this happens, we cannot help but look. Our energy picks up and we begin to scan the horizon in anticipation of love’s light breaking through. Words evoke a vision for what could be. In this poem, it is clear that things have been difficult, but those days are no longer, “for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone” (verse 11). Such words imply that what has been spoken is not just sweet nothings or platitudes, but hope that springs even from dry places. It implies the reality of those things in life that keep us shut in and frozen, or looking out at dreary skies once again with lament. While it should be noted that any one relationship should not be the be-all-end-all of our happiness, it is certainly true that the love we share with others has the potential to turn even our worst days around. What is more, being connected with others helps us look in new directions. How often has a friend comforted you and helped you see things in a more positive way, or work through something? Or perhaps there has been tough-love, when a loved one forces you to take a hard look at some things that are not good for you or those around you. To look as a follow up of listening means that we truly “see” one another, not just on a surface level, but in deep real ways that encompass the whole spectrum of emotions and experiences. Looking involves both an awareness of the past, an honest analysis of the present, and even the ability to begin to imagine the possibilities of the future. It is seeing things as they have been and are, but in a way that is mindful they don’t always have to be that way.

For the people of God hearing these words from Song of Solomon, there may have also been a deep longing for a restored relationship with the Divine. When all else seems to have failed, we too search the horizons for signs of hope and promise. Looking is also discovering the possibilities and beauty in the world. When we look in this way, we engage in an appreciation of the amazing work of our Creator. It is no surprise that this poem is rich with images of nature – it is one way we glimpse the love of God for us, and all of the world. To take the pleasure in looking is to revel in God’s glory, and to open ourselves to God’s vision for the world, as it is, and as it should be.

Together, listening and looking lead us into a new vision – for our relationships with others, and for our relationship with the Divine. They draw us into authentic, intimate encounters in ways that transform us, and become an invitation for a new way of being in the world. Arise, repeated several times in the poem, is our summons to not just hear and see from a distance, but participate in the new creation that is springing forth. It reminds us that for love to be fully personified it must be acted upon. We cannot just assign it some words and paint verbal pictures of the beauty of nature. We must engage it with our whole selves and act.

This is the message of James in a nutshell, captured in the verses that accompany our poem in the lectionary. They remind us that in our lives and in our faith, it is not enough to simply think or say that we believe something. Our faith has to lead us to action if it is to be alive and true.

Listen. Look. Arise. These are the markers of strong, committed, intimate relationships. When we practice them, as individuals and community, they lead us to a rhythm of life marked by love and faith. They become our way of live, interwoven with creation, with each other, and with our Creator, and our lives will be richer as a result. A new season is coming. May these words, and the Word of God, lead us into it and into the new possibilities it contains, so that our lives ring out with poetry and song. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
September 2, 2018

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[i] Julia M. O’Brien, “Exegetical Perspective: Song of Solomon 2:8-13,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009).

Sunday’s Sermon – Key Changes – Acts 9:1-20

Sunday’s Sermon – Sharing Our Stories – John 20:30-31, 21:25

Sunday’s Sermon – What’s In A Name? – Mark 8:27-30

Sunday’s Sermon – Be Thou My Vision – 1 Kings 3:3-14

Sunday’s Sermon – Listen. Look. Arise. – Song of Solomon 2:8-17

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