Poured Out

Scripture Lessons: Acts 7: 54-58 and 2nd Timothy 4: 6-18 Sermon Title: Poured Out Preached on October 27, 2019 As you may have read on your bulletin cover or noticed based on who wrote our first two hymns, today is Reformation Sunday. This is an annual event when we are invited to remember that moment in 1517 when Martin Luther nailed his 95 Thesis to a church door in Whittenburg, Germany. These 95 Thesis were his 95 complaints or issues with the Roman Catholic Church. He judged many priests in the hierarchy, all the way up to the Pope in Rome to be to be self-serving, manipulative, and corrupt. He believed that a tradition of buying indulgences, or tickets into heaven (while maybe good for the Annual Stewardship Campaign) made a mockery of the Gospel. And he was tiered of worship services that used too much Latin rather than the language that people actually spoke and could understand. Of course, the choir sang that beautiful anthem in Latin today, which was incredible! But can you imagine if everything we did in here was in Latin? The result of Martin Luther nailing such complaints on a piece of paper to a church door, was no small thing. It resulted in the formation of the Lutheran and Presbyterian Churches, then the Baptist, Episcopal, Methodist, and all the other protestants and nondenominationals. It inspired new forms of worship, widespread democracy, the first Bibles written in languages that most people actually spoke, and nearly cost Martin Luther his life as he was persecuted for heresy. Because Martin Luther changed the course of his life, stepping out in faith in an act of protest and defiance, risking his reputation and veering from the course he thought his life would take, the whole world changed and is still changing. The author Eric Metaxas recently wrote a biography of Martin Luther, titled, “The Man who rediscovered God and changed the world,” which begins with this introduction: In 1934, an African American pastor from Georgia made the trip of a lifetime, sailing across the Atlantic Ocean, through the gates of Gibraltar, and across the Mediterranean Sea to the Holy Land. After this pilgrimage, he traveled to Berlin, attending an international conference of Baptist pastors. While in Germany, this man became so impressed with what he learned about the reformer Martin Luther that he decided to do something dramatic. He offered the ultimate tribute to the man’s memory by changing his own name… not long after the boy’s father changed his own name, he decided to change his [young] son’s name too, and Michael King Jr. became known to the world as Martin Luther King Jr. Reformation Sunday is today. As we remember what is called the Great Reformation, know that what we celebrate is not just an important event in the past, for just this word, “reformation,” inspires us to remember today the reality that change must happen, and sometimes change can even be good. That our lives and our society must be reformed, and also always reforming. That’s an important message, because oftentimes we want everything to go according to plan. We get an idea in our head, that life will move steadily from one milestone to the next, and that if we stay the course we’ll be rewarded. That’s not always true, so today let us remember that faithfulness is well exhibited the disruptions. Not in Pharisees who upheld time tested traditions with reverence and discipline, but in Christ who toppled the tables set in the Temple. Not in the Priests who recited their Latin Masses to the people though they didn’t understand, but in Martin Luther who returned the Gospel to the hands of the people. Not in those protestors and police officers who fought to maintain segregation, but in Luther’s namesake, Martin Luther King Jr., who preached and preached until segregation ended. These are examples to be remembered as all of us step into the future, that we be, not confined to routine but led by the Spirit. From the New Testament book, 2nd Timothy, we find encouragement to do just that in the example of the Apostle Paul. We’ve read in our Second Scripture Lesson a letter to a young man from a more experienced one who knows a thing or two about changing course. As Paul, the author, nears the end of his life on earth he writes: I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. These claims he makes about his life are the same claims we all want to make. We all want to run our race well, but at some point, it feels good to stop running or at least, it becomes a little less exiting to take the next step. I remember being a teenager and every next step was so exciting. It seemed like everyone wanted to know: “Do you have your learner’s permit?” “Where are you going to college?” “How is your resume looking?” Ours is a society that asks about these things, excited about the beginning phases of life. Unfortunately, then we often get fearful about what comes after that. Just consider, when’s the last time you heard someone ask an older person with that same level of excitement: “Are you looking forward to giving up your driver’s license?” “Have you decided on a retirement home?” “Have you worked on your will?” While it is commonplace to be excited about steps towards adulthood, in this letter Paul shines a light on the truth, that with faith we might also be joyful in taking steps beyond it: As for me, I am already being poured out as a libation, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. From now on there is reserved for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give me on that day. Sometimes we read these words at the funeral, when it’s too late for the departed to reap the full benefit of Paul’s example. He shows us by his example, that we can’t just be thinking about change in the first half of our lives. With faith, Paul shows us that we can look forward to every step. His example shows that reformation and change is a continual process, that does not come to full fruition until we breathe our last and receive the crown. So, while it’s so good to consider how we’ll fill our days up, how can we also pour ourselves out? What will we do once we’ve filled up our lives with events, choices, careers, relationships, and furniture? Some downsize and try to give their stuff to their children. Problem is, their kids don’t want it. Recognizing that, my grandmother threatened my mother once: “Cathy, when I die, don’t you dare have a yard sale. Don’t you dare bring my stuff out of the house and into the front yard for strangers to pick over. If you do, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life!” Isn’t a terrifying thing to imagine your life spread out on a front lawn for strangers to pick through. Still, that’s what happens sometimes. We welcome change and newness for several years, but then the expectation becomes that we settle in. Stay the same. Maintain life as it is, but that is not faith, for God is always leading us beyond where we are to where we might be should we be brave enough to keep running the race. Many do, others just put everything off until it’s too late. That’s a sad way to go. Old and bitter in an empty house full of regrets. I know people like that. Paul’s not immune to bitterness either. The strangest details are left for us in the section that an editor of your Bible may have titled, “Personal Instructions.” In verses 9-18, the Apostle Paul says a lot. At the end of his life he lists his grievances: Demas deserted me. Crescens and Titus are gone too. I hope Alexander the Coppersmith gets what’s coming to him. Only Luke is with me, but Paul doesn’t have anything good to say about him. Mark might be useful, so Paul asks Timothy to bring him when he comes to visit, as well as the cloak that he left with Carpus at Troas. This detail about the cloak reminded me of the first time Paul is mentioned in Scripture. He was called Saul then, and he was different. In our First Scripture Lesson from the book of Acts, we read of one of the lowest points in this account of the history of the Early Church. A Disciple named Stephen was stoned. He was the first martyr, and when they dragged him out of the city and began to stone him, the witnesses laid their coats at the feet of a young man named Saul. While tragic, there’s something wonderful about remembering this memory when considering the end of Paul’s life. There’s something wonderful here, in this simple reminder. That in light of all his glory we might also look back and see Paul the Apostle when he was young and stupid. When we’re tempted to venerate him, we can see again that even the Apostle Paul, who has more churches named for him than even Martin Luther, was once an accomplice in something horrible. That even he had to be changed by Christ and then, had to keep on changing. Life is this great process of reformation, and the best stories we can hear are of those who are still growing up, still making mistakes and learning from them. For don’t you remember what it was like in 5th Grade when it seemed like no one would ever forget that you got caught picking your nose in Ms. Cook’s Class? (I’m not speaking from personal experience or anything.) Regardless of your phase of life, can’t you see that it’s only just the beginning. We must keep growing and changing until we have poured out what we’ve filled our lives with and breathe our last to receive the crown. That’s what Paul was able to tell Timothy. That’s what Paul is telling us. Keep the faith, through every phase of life. Don’t stop changing or growing, for every step in life requires that we walk alongside the Lord who leads us through life and beyond it. Yesterday our own Larissa Dukes quoted a passage read in some Jewish circles in a time of morning: When I die give what’s left of me away. Love doesn’t die, people do. So, when all that’s left of me is love, Give me away. That’s how Paul did. I am already being poured out as a libation, and the time of my departure has come, he said. And while surely, he was afraid, having following Christ all his days, he’s ready to follow him down the path just a little bit further. Are you?

Do Not Wander Away to Myths

Scripture Lessons: Jeremiah 31: 27-37 and 2 Timothy 3: 14 – 4: 5 Sermon Title: Do Not Wander Away to Myths Preached on 10/20/19 Always, but especially today, we give thanks to God for Scripture. Scripture holds a central place in our Presbyterian tradition. Many Presbyterian churches are designed like ours, with the pulpit in the center. That illustrates, not that the preacher is of central importance, but that the Word of God is. That’s why I stand here, front and center. It’s not so that everyone can see or hear me, but so that you and I know the place that God’s Word must have in our lives. It must be the focal point and the foundation, bringing light to shadow and clarity to all our confusion. To stand in this pulpit or to touch that old pulpit Bible that I’ve just read from is really something wonderful, then. It reminds me that for generations and generations, the words of Scripture have been cherished and passed down, translated and debated. When I touched the worn pages of that newly restored Bible that rested in the pulpit of our Sanctuary so that generations of believers would hear the Word of God, it’s as though I’m touching something sacred. In that old pulpit Bible, a symbol of our faith has been preserved, so I’m exceedingly grateful to the family who supported the effort to have it restored and the History Committee who sent it off, as well as the woman who knit together again it’s binding by hand. However, it’s not enough for us as Christians to preserve the book. It’s not enough to put it under a glass case where it will be kept safe, well maintained for future generations to admire. All of that is wonderful of course, but Scripture is not meant for a museum. Under a glass case or up on a bookcase is not where we are commanded to keep the Word of God, for as we read from the Old Testament book of Jeremiah in the King James Version: I will put my law in their inward parts And write it in their hearts; Have you ever thought about what that means? A wonderful author named Richard Rohr retells a story about Joan of Arc. After defending her home country of France from English domination, she had to stand trial for defying her culture’s harsh standards of gender. Representatives of the Church tried her for heresy, for in addition to her unladylike behavior of commanding an army, she said that it was God himself who called her to do it. That didn’t sit well with the Religious Authorities of the time. The Gospel rarely does, and so they couldn’t believe that God would ever command a young woman to do anything besides cook or sew. “What makes you that it was God speaking to you?” they asked. “I heard Him speak in my mind and felt Him lead me in my heart,” she said. Giving little credence to her emotions or the voices inside her head, they accused her of falling victim to the power of her own imagination. Yet, Joan of Arc brilliantly responded, “How else would God speak to me?” Maybe you’ve had that same feeling of being led by an inner voice, a sense that the divine was leading you somewhere. Only how do you determine which voice is God’s and which isn’t? That’s why Scripture must reside in our hearts. That’s why His Commandments must fill our inward parts. All the time we are asked to make choices. All the time decisions must be made, and some trust the feeling in their gut, others the little voice inside their head; still others rely on numbers, metrics, data, but why not use the account of the Great Heroes of our faith, why not listen again to the old stories of God at work in the world to gain an understanding of how God is still at work in our lives today. 2nd Timothy warns us against turning away from the truth and wandering away to myths. We can only begin to grasp what is truth and what is myth by knowing the words of Scripture so well that we know the sound of God’s voice and the quality of His character. Otherwise, we’re set at sea like a ship without a rudder or an anchor, victims to the whims of the most constant and manipulative advertisements the world has ever seen. Has it happened to you yet, that you ordered something online, and magically, you find yourself presented with similar products? I recently ordered some fancy, $8.00 shoelaces. Yes, I know that you can buy two pairs of shoelaces at Walmart for $2.00, but they don’t make those in colors that will match all my outfits. I ordered two pairs of these shoelaces from a website called whiskers.com. Ever since then I’ve seen their advertisements everywhere. They’re on my phone and on my computer. It’s like someone’s been watching me and knows what I’ll be tempted to buy. That’s because someone is. Of course, the news is even worse. We know now that once you read an article on-line, you’ll be presented with other articles that you might like. This is convenient and good so long as you’re happy and settled with the world view that you currently have and don’t want to be disturbed with a different opinion. Constantly today the salesmen of products and propaganda are knocking down our door, infiltrating our life, trying to tell us what to buy and even how to think. Considering the aggressive cacophony of myths in our daily lives, how can we know who to listen to? How can we decide whose advice to take? Which version of the truth is really the truth? Sorting through the confusion is easy when we remember the words of Scripture: Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. We have to know the Word, you see. Consider our Call to Worship that was from the Psalms, that God’s law makes us wiser than our enemies, or again, Jeremiah, where the Lord looks forward to the day when: I will put my law in their inward parts And write it in their hearts; To have Scripture in our hearts is crucial, because all around us are myths. All around us and even in our own heads are voices that will lead us towards death and destruction. An author once wrote that “We accept the love we think we deserve.” He’s right. And we also listen to the voices we think have it right, we take the advice of those who speak with confidence, even though they often speak without wisdom. Therefore, we must be careful, because myths can ring true, even when they are empty. There may be a voice that you hear, like that of Orson Welles: We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we’re not alone. Illusion? That’s a myth. Let me tell you why. I was standing in line at the Starbucks at the hospital last week with our Music Director, Dr. Jeffrey Meeks. A Journey song came on: He’s tearin’ you apart Every, every day And Jeffrey started singing Cause he’s lovin; touchin’ another. And when it got to the next part, all the na, na, nu, na, na’s, another guy right behind us jumps right in and starts singing with him. He was with his teenage daughter, and while they were crooning in harmony, she and I had the same embarrassed looks on our faces. Regardless, remember these strangers in line singing together and know that while it’s easy to go into the hospital and to think that no one cares that you’re there, you’re not alone. Don’t believe that you are for a second. Hear the Word of the Lord: and lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the age. Do you know those words? Are they written on your heart? You’ll be scattered by the wind if they’re not. For the time is coming when people will not put up with sound doctrine, but having itching ears, they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own desires and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander away to myths. Don’t you know it’s already happening? So many mistake the words inside their head that tear them apart, for the Word of the Lord. So many mistake the bullies in the hall or on the internet for sound doctrine. So many listen to what people say and think that they must speak for God but listen to what God has to say: You are mine, my beloved, and with you I am well pleased. Too often we imagine Scripture as full of the harsh words that tell us what not to do. We assume that within those pages we will hear that we’re all wrong or undeserving. If that’s what you think, then take it down from the shelf to read it, that you might come to know the God who called a woman named Joan to lean an army and was incarnate in a man named Jesus, who gave His life out of love for you. If we don’t know, with some certainty, that we have God’s approval, then we will spend our entire lives trying to earn the world’s, which we will never get. Do not wander away to myths. Do not believe what they say. Instead, continue in what you have learned and firmly believed, that “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” Amen.

A Love that Never Ceases

Scripture Lessons: Lamentations 1: 1-12 and 2 Timothy 1: 1-14 Sermon Title: A Love that Never Ceases Preached on October 6, 2019 Last week I was glad to attend a meeting of the Board of Zoning Appeals. I say I was glad to attend. That was how I felt when I first arrived and not how I felt when I left. You may have read in the paper about a new MUST homeless shelter. In the past, single men were face of homelessness. Today, most of those being turned away from the existing MUST shelter when it hits capacity are single mothers with children. The new shelter is designed to meet their needs. It will have more rooms where mothers and their children can stay together, but before MUST can break ground, first they must gain approval for their new building, hence the request to the Board of Zoning Appeals. This meeting with them was public. Many people showed up, MUST supporters, including former Governor Roy Barnes, as well as residents who live in the area around the current shelter who oppose its construction. These residents were there to voice their opposition to the new shelter, for they fear that should the Board of Zoning Appeals grant MUST’s request, the problems they encounter already with homeless men and women camping out in the woods near their houses will only grow worse by attracting more homeless people. To persuade the Board, each side gave impassioned speeches. All those speeches took a long time, because this board grants a full 20 minutes to each side. That’s a long time to listen, I realized, and made a mental note to keep my sermons shorter. Then the Board took a vote. They sided with the residents. Then I left disappointed, but not entirely because my side lost. The residents made fine points. What disappointed me is that their points were made based on the assumption that even a new shelter will not make our community’s problem with homelessness any better. That’s a demoralizing thought. That’s a sad state of affairs. Thinking that way will make you nearly as depressed as reading our First Scripture Lesson will. That passage from Lamentations is a very sad one, but I didn’t ask Joe Brice to read it to make you sad. I asked him to read it because feeling demoralized is nothing new. Throughout history, some have been brought low by circumstance. What’s inspiring is to remember the faith of those who persevered. This past week in Columbia, TN, a man died who I knew well. He was a member of the church I served there. He was a World War II veteran who, following a mission attempting to destroy Japanese submarines, once spent a long night floating in the Atlantic Ocean when the landing gear of his airplane failed to come down. That happened when he was 19 years old. Do you know what I was doing when I was 19 years old? Some of you do, and so you know it wasn’t that. Considering his strength, it occurs to me how progress has afforded each successive generation just a little bit more safety, maybe a lot more luxury, which is nice, but it’s also dangerous. That’s because as less and less is required of us in this modern era, we may also fall into the illusion that less and less is possible. In our Second Scripture Lesson from the book of 2nd Timothy, Paul the Apostle calls young Timothy, to remember the faith “that lived first in [his] grandmother Lois and [his] mother Eunice and now, [he] is sure, lives” on in him. Calling young Timothy to look back this way was surely inspiring, for there’s a tremendous stock of resilience that awaits us in our history. Paul calls Timothy to remember the faith of his grandmother and mother. That’s helpful, because if we remember what they made it through, what they endured, what they accomplished, surely, we’ll find strength enough in ourselves to continue the race that they started. That’s why Paul writes to Timothy: “their faith, I am sure, live in you. For this reason, I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you.” When Timothy hit a hard time, he needed that reminder. We all do. We all need to remember the resilient heroes of the past to gain the strength we need for today. Certainly, that’s true for me. My least favorite chore is making our girls their school lunches. Sara never asks me to help her with it, because I hate making their lunches so much. I especially deplore the most tedious step in the school lunch making process: finding the lids to the Tupperware that their lunches must be packaged in. I ask you: “What could be worse than making our children lunches?” Thinking back on the lives of my fore parents I’ll tell you: looking in the cupboard and finding it bare. Just two generations ago was the Great Depression, and among us still are those who survived it. Consider them, and don’t tell me we can’t make it through whatever challenges we face today. There is strength enough within us to make it through anything, even to endure the toxic political climate we find ourselves in. Some people will tell you that the partisan divide is worse than it’s ever been. That’s just not true. Look back just 150 years ago when the South declared war on the North. How’s that for a partisan divide? All we have today are some arguing grown-ups, and if you don’t like any of them, then do something about it. At least, take the time to vote. Not everyone does that even. Why? Because the evil one has convinced some of us that they may as well stay at home. That hope is lost. That we’re weak. That nothing can ever change but remember your grandmothers for a minute and rekindle the gift of God that is within you. Do you know what I wish would have happened at the Board of Zoning Appeals last week? I wish someone had said, “If we all work together, there won’t be homeless people in anyone’s’ back yard,” for based on Scripture and the strength of generations, I know we can put all of this city’s men and women and children under a roof, if we’d just try. In the midst of hardship and trial, we must remember that our God’s love is a love that never ceases. He is with us at in our darkest hour, and like the sun, he rises up each morning to lead us to a brighter day. Halleluiah. Amen.

Who Gave Himself a Ransom for All

Scripture Lessons: Jeremiah 8: 18 – 9: 1 and 1 Timothy 2: 1-7 Sermon Title: Who Gave Himself a Ransom for All Preached on September 22, 2019 Just before the Prayers of the People we sang “There is a Balm in Gilead.” This great hymn is based on our First Scripture Lesson from the book of Jeremiah, where in desperation the Prophet mourns on behalf of God for the people saying: My joy is gone, grief is upon me, my heart is sick. Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then has the health of my poor people not been restored? We emphasize such themes this Sunday morning on behalf of our brothers and sisters who are still cheering for the University of Tennessee. Not really. This is Scripture. It’s not about College football, but I have been struck this season by the Vols. We don’t watch much college football in our house, however, back when we lived in Tennessee, we were all UT fans. When you live in Tennessee you have to be. Since moving here, we haven’t been overt about it, for obvious reasons. This has been a difficult season. The first game this season was a loss against Georgia State, who’s only even had a football team since 2010. You might have heard, that on the day of that game a boat outside the stadium caught fire and sank in the Tennessee River. It’s been said that UT’s game plan for the game was on that boat. Then the Vols were defeated by Bingham Young University, a historically Mormon school, not considered a football powerhouse, from Salt Lake City. After that game a friend of mine sent me a picture of a Mormon missionary in white shirt and dark pants, narrowly outrunning a Tennessee defenseman, which was a good illustration for the second defeat of the season. Then last week, even though Tennessee was victorious against Chattanooga, still a friend sent me a picture of a man at the Georgia game dressed in a Vols jersey with a bag over his head, embarrassed to show his face. You can imagine that after yesterday’s loss to Florida, there were many in Knoxville, not singing “Rocky Top,” but asking, “Is there no balm in Gilead?” Will we ever win again? When will we be out of our misery? Those are all good and important questions, and I’m sure that these are the questions the players on the Marietta High School football team who have been recruited by the University of Tennessee are asking, but such questions bring me to a point that I believe Scripture makes, a lesson so counter cultural as to be radically surprising, namely, that winning isn’t everything. I’m sure you’ve heard that before. Certainly, I have, because I’ve lost at a lot of things, and my Mother especially, tried to comfort me by telling me that it’s not whether you win or lose but how you play the game. I never believed her. Sometimes I still don’t. However, I hope you’ll hear me out, especially giving the state of youth sports today. For as sports become a more and more important part of the lives of our children and grandchildren and as more and more parents sacrifice their free time, driving hours in the car for travel baseball, travel soccer, or travel volleyball, it becomes important to consider what our kids are learning about the importance of victory. When some parents take their kids out of school for competitions, what are we teaching them? When their schedules are so packed, what are they learning from us about the importance of rest? As Sunday becomes a day for tournaments, what place has religion in the hierarchy of importance? While I know that the lessons of teamwork, practice, physical fitness, and hard work are lessons that all parents need to teach their kids, I’m worried that we are also teaching them that winning is all that truly matters, when we serve a Lord who taught that the path to salvation is not through victory, but surrender. We read in 1st Timothy: There is one God; There is also one mediator between God and humankind, Christ Jesus, himself human, Who gave himself a ransom for all. This section of 1st Timothy, our Second Scripture Lesson goes a long way, using just a few phrases, to describe who this Christ whom we follow is and what he has done for us. Scripture testifies to the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, who sat not on a throne, but died on a Cross to save us from our sins. Rather than rubbing shoulders with princes, he ate with sinners and still welcomes, even the likes of us. While he could have avoided suffering, he embraced it, and he teaches that the only way to conquer all is to give everything you have to those whom you love. According to the Apostle Paul, in the eyes of Christ, all our earthly winning is losing. He was bold to say, “Yet whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ.” We protestants know, by emphasizing such words, that you can’t earn God’s love or God’s salvation, you just must accept God’s grace. Why then do we spend so much time helping our kids become winners? I worry that we are saying one thing, while doing another, when the truth is so much better than the lie that they may be picking up, because I don’t love our children because of what they’ve won. I love them because they’re mine. I might like it, but I don’t need them to win. I just want them to be fully who God created them to be, however in our world of constant competition, that’s easier said than done. I was enjoying some Palmetto Cheese the other day, and I remembered the story of the people who started making it. Maybe you’ve had Palmetto Cheese. It’s the best store-bought pimento cheese you can buy, made by a small business out of Pawley’s Island started by a couple who runs a small inn on the beach. When they bought the inn, they focused on the dining room right away. I read all this in an interview, that they bought the inn and noticed that the dining room was stuck in some strange patterns. Once a week they had Thai night. Maybe like me, you like Thai food, but I don’t think anyone goes to Pawley’s Island looking for it. The women who cooked in the dining room certainly hadn’t been trained in Thai cooking, and so this couple who bought the inn encouraged the cooks in the kitchen to prepare the food they knew. Soon enough, good low country fare was coming out of the kitchen, including the best pimento cheese money can buy, but first this couple had to accept the reality that an inn on Pawley’s Island is just fine being who they were meant to be. That’s a hard lesson to learn, because we live our lives in a competition where we’re judged according to someone else’s rules. There are competitions on TV where they decide who’s the best chef but remember: you don’t have to win one on one of those shows to make food worth eating. There are people who make the cover of the magazine, but you don’t have to look like one of them to be beautiful. There are all kinds of different churches in this world, but we don’t have to be like any of them, we can just be us. As a church we get caught in the same cycle of winning; thinking we have to compete with great big churches in Atlanta who have guitars and drums and lights and sound, but does anyone really drive up to our antebellum sanctuary expecting us to be like one of them? No! God created us and God loves us, and we don’t have to win every competition to be a great church or to gain God’s love. All we have to do is accept God’s grace. This is such a difficult truth to accept, however, because we’ve been taught to believe that second place is the first looser. Now that might be true in sports, but sports are different than real life, and the Kingdom of God has plenty of room on the medal platform. 1st Timothy urges us to pray for everyone. “Everyone” might sound like too many to us, in this culture of winning. If everyone gets a trophy then what does a trophy really even mean? I get it. But Scripture calls on us to pray “For kings and all who are in high positions,” not only pray for the politicians we voted for because they’re all God’s children, too. According to 1st Timothy, God our Savior, “desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” “Everyone” sounds like a lot of people, but maybe that’s only because we’ve gotten so used to this idea that only a small number of people are worthy of acceptance and praise, only a set number of people ever get to make the team or get in the game, when in the Kingdom of God everyone is somebody and all have a seat at the table with the King. Back to the University of Tennessee Volunteers: did you see the shirts that the marching band wore last Saturday? It was college colors day at Altamonte Elementary School in Altamonte Springs, Florida. One 4th grade student didn’t have a college shirt to wear, so he wore an orange shirt, drew UT on a piece of paper and safety pinned it to his shirt. Some kids in the cafeteria noticed and made fun of him, of course. That’s what kids do. It’s wrong, but they do it. If you don’t have the right shirt or the right shoes you take your place on the outside the bounds of popularity. Having been rejected, this child was devastated of course. When his teacher saw the look on his face, she tried to affirm him and lift him up, and gradually, word got out about the child and this shirt he’d made. Somehow or another, eventually, word made it all the way to the University of Tennessee and their Pride of the Southland Marching Band, who took his design and mass produced it. Every one of them wearing an orange shirt just like the one that this kid made for himself. Our kids need to hear that story too. They need to hear about the balm our God provides in the moment of rejection. And of the Shepherd who walks beside us even when we walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Of the arms of the Almighty who is the wind beneath the wings of eagles. Because so often it is when we have surely been defeated that we finally reach out to the One who has gained the victory, by giving himself as a ransom for all. Let’s stop teaching our children to go after glory, that they might give the glory to God. Amen.

Onesimus

Scripture Lesson: Jeremiah 18: 1-11 and Philemon Sermon Title: Onesimus Preached on September 8, 2019 Truthfully, this is just an incredible day. I look forward to this day all year. I love hearing the bagpipes and the drums. I even love wearing this kilt and especially I love seeing the tartans come in. The Tartans are the centerpiece of this annual worship service. By all these tartans you can see that this service is a symbol that names matter and that all families are blessed by God. This Kirkin or “Blessing” of the Tartans tradition emerged at a time when only those families who had pledged themselves to British rule had the right to wear their plaid publicly. Only those who had kneeled to the crown were allowed to wear their kilts or to hear their clan’s name acknowledged. So, when the Church invites every family to come and be recognized in a worship service, it’s a radically defiant thing to do, for the tartans, publicly displayed, loudly proclaim that we all matter, we all stand as equals, and even if the Buchanan’s haven’t paid their taxes to the crown or the Macintoshes have been organizing a rebellion, they still matter to God. Even if some have been rendered invisible to the Monarchy, God sees them. God calls them by name. They are his. The statement made by this service, all the tartans that processed in and the clans they represent, proclaim the truth that all families matter, all people matter to God. And that word “all” applies even those who don’t have a tartan to hold up. There’s no Evans tartan. Not an official one anyway. That’s OK. I’m not upset about it. I don’t feel ignored. As the Senior Pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Marietta, GA, I don’t feel ignored basically ever. I was at dinner with two leaders of our church. We ordered drinks, and I ordered something fancy from the bar. I didn’t know how fancy it was, until the waiter brought it out on a tray, with a glass dome over it filled with hickory smoke. As the waiter made his way over to our table, grandly removing the dome, everyone in the restaurant was looking at me, and that’s when Jessi Allers, our youth ministry consultant says to Tom Clarke, “Like he doesn’t get enough attention already!” That’s true. Last Thursday I walked our daughter Lily across the street to drop her off at school. On my way back to the car there was a fair amount of traffic. A lot of parents were dropping off their kids, then rushing to work or to run errands. I was just standing there waiting when one woman stopped her car and waved her hand toward me and bowed her head like I was the King. I smiled and waved, but what came to me in this moment was a memory from my commute to the church last Monday morning. I was crossing the Harris Hines Bridge and I heard a whistle blow. The woman in the cross walk, right over there on Kennesaw Avenue is so used to cars ignoring her as she crosses the road that she’s taken to wearing a whistle around her neck that she blows at people who don’t stop for her. This is something that she has to do for her own safety, even in the cross walk. Indeed, I heard her blow it and saw a car narrowly pass her by. This morning, while so many families have been named and recognized by their tartans, we can’t forget that in this world, some are still fighting to be seen. Take Onesimus for example. Our Second Scripture Lesson for today was an entire book of the Bible. It’s just one chapter, a short letter written by Paul the Apostle to Philemon, a slave owner who hosted a church in his home, regarding his slave Onesimus, who, according to the law of the land was Philemon’s property, but Paul calls Philemon to remember that by the new order established by Jesus Christ, Onesimus is also his brother. Paul names Onesimus and defends him in this letter but consider the ways of the world. Imagine those many dinner parties when the guests treated him like a fixture of the dining room. How many people walked by him without greeting him as a fellow human being? To what extent did his owner treat him like a piece of his property, and when he ran away, was Philemon more concerned with the wellbeing of his brother or the investment he’d just lost? By calling him brother Paul calls all of us to a level of equality still needed in this world, but by simply naming him in this letter, the Apostle Paul has already done something radical, for how many names have been forgotten? Last Sunday I read an article by the great Judy Elliott who remembered a man named Antoine who discovered and propagated what became known as the “Centennial” pecan. Celebrated at the Centennial Exposition of 1876, held in Philadelphia. This new variety was praised for size and sweetness, yet horticultural tomes never mention the one who discovered it by name. Why? Because racism has rendered some invisible. The same story is retold when it comes to the greatest of hymns, “Amazing Grace,” which we’ll sing to end this worship service. We know John Newton wrote the words, but today historians speculate that the tune was one he heard slaves sing for comfort in the belly of the slave ships which he captained. We’ve forgotten their names and so many others. Our nation’s history is not always unlike the section of the cemetery where generations of men and women are only represented by one marker, not granted a stone bearing their name. Meanwhile, Paul remembers the name Onesimus. “Formerly he was useless to you, but now he is indeed useful both to you and to me” he wrote to Philemon and urges that he might welcome him “back forever, no longer as a slave but more than a slave, a beloved brother.” Here we are, so close to the 400th anniversary of the date when the first slaves were brought to this country, and yet some figures are still hidden. Nearly 300 years after the words were written, “All men are created equal” in the Declaration of Independence, we have yet to live up to our ideals. And we must continue to rise to them, that like clay in the potter’s hand, rooted in who we have been, we might be continually “reworked into another vessel;” a more perfect vessel. Today, as we celebrate tradition, history, heritage, roots, looking back on the past let us celebrate what is good: the tartans, the bag pipes, the kilts, but can we leave the haggis behind? Considering history, we don’t need to be confined to all of what once was, for reshaped by the Gospel we can become who Christ intends us to be. We must leave behind blindness to our brother, for still in our world, some are called doctor and others patient. A good friend of mine, Dr. Jim Goodlet, told me that “patient” is the perfect word, because that’s what’s required, profound patience as you wait in the waiting room, wait for test results, wait to hear if the cancer’s really gone. Maybe you saw the comic strip last Thursday. The doctor asked, “How are you sleeping?” Crankshaft responded, “I’m sleeping great Doc. I just dozed off for about two hours in your waiting room.” That may just be the way that it is, but have you ever had a doctor who saw you as a person? Isn’t that just as healing as whatever medicine she prescribed? See your brother then. That’s what Paul writes to Philemon. He’s calling on him to see Onesimus as his brother, and he’s calling on us to see each other with that same clarity of vision. This past week a Marietta man faced felony charges after police say he purposely struck the driver of a garbage truck with his car after spitting in his face. Are we not all worth stopping for? Are we not all deserving of respect? That’s what this worship service I all about. These Tartans are not unlike those great placards carried by the striking Memphis sanitation workers. They said so simply: “I am a man.” That’s what this worship service is about. Yes, you are. All of you are. And God sees you, we see you. In this place you can hold your head up high with your humanity intact. You matter here, and that’s regardless of what you do for a living or the color of your skin. That’s regardless of the amount of money in your pocket book and the birthdate on your driver’s license. That’s regardless of who you love. That’s regardless of how you sing. That’s regardless of the test results or the labels the world puts on you. Raise your head up high as we’ve raised up the Tartans, because you matter. You matter to God. The road to a better future may be potholed with the indifference of the past but it can be repaved by our empathy. Like clay in the hands of the potter, be reshaped by the Gospel today. Recognize your worthy and the worth of your brother, your sister, your own flesh, there before you. And let us all look forward to the moment when we will arise at the sound of God calling our name. He knows it too, for we all matter to Him. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Let Mutual Love Continue

Scripture Lessons: Jeremiah 2: 4-13 and Hebrews 13: 1-8 Sermon Title: Let mutual love continue Preached on September 1, 2019 This Scripture Lesson that I’ve just read is a good reminder of what we, as Christians, ought to be all about. And the Scripture Lesson that Linley just read is a good reminder that we, as Christians, have a tendency to stray away from what we ought to be all about. Of course, we’re not alone in straying. We all stray. Consider Kentucky Fried Chicken. Consider just the name: Kentucky Fried Chicken, and yet last week they started serving something called “beyond fried chicken.” Now I don’t know what “beyond fried chicken” is exactly, but while it’s fried it’s not chicken, and you can just about be certain that it didn’t come from Kentucky. What’s next, right? But this kind of thing happens a lot. We come loose from our roots. We go off the rails. We stray from the very essence of who we are and what we’re supposed to be doing. And while considering expanding American waist-lines, it could be that un-chicken is where we should be going, however, most of the time, straying too far from the point is bad. So, from time to time we have to be reminded of the point. That’s why various human institutions ritualize the simple and crucial act of stating who they are and what they’re all about so as not to forget the main thing. Our youngest daughter Cece took taekwondo lessons for a while. She loved it, and in addition to seeing her master various punches and kicks, I loved that every lesson ended the same way. The Senior Student, the one who has achieved the most advanced rank in the group, would lead the class in reciting the six tenants of taekwondo, the six defining attributes that every student of taekwondo should embody in their daily life: courtesy, integrity, perseverance, self-control, indomitable spirit, and victory. At the end of the class all the kids lined up, and our Cece was in the back standing there in her resting stance, and the senior student faced the rest of the class and yelled out: “courtesy,” and all the kids repeated, “courtesy.” Then “integrity” she says, and all the other kids say, “integrity.” Then “perseverance” – “perseverance.” “Self-control” – “self-control” “Indomitable spirit” – and the little ones in the back would say “indom -mmm - ble spirit.” It was great. It was all just great, because what could be better than closing the lesson with the core, the essence, the epitome of what every taekwondo student should be and should be doing? The Cub Scouts do the same: “I promise, to do my best, to do my duty, to God and my country, to help other people, and to obey the law of the pack.” The Boy Scouts of course begin their meetings with the Scout Oath and Law, and I’ll bet everyone here who’s been involved in scouts could stand and say it. This is why the school day starts with the Pledge to the Flag and the baseball game with the National Anthem. We use these rituals to summarize; to clarify. It’s by these kinds of statements that we hope to make our expectations clear and stay on the right path. And that’s important, because every group strays. Every group forgets. It’s easy to get distracted from the main thing. Cece signed up for taekwondo and the first thing I wanted to know is when she was going to karate chop a board in half, but that’s not why they’re there. It’s about integrity, perseverance, self-control, and the indom – mmm - ble spirit. In the same way, Boy Scouts isn’t about merit badges and getting into a good college once you have your eagle. Being a doctor is about first, “do no harm,” life as a lawyer is centered around defending the Constitution and living by a code of fidelity and truth, only how many are like those preachers who stray from such ideals to make a little more money. How do you keep a group rooted in its true purpose? You make the true purpose plain and clear again and again: “A scout is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent.” That’s Scouts. But what about Christians? You go out into the world and ask around a little bit and you may hear the opposite of what we intend. You may hear that “A Christian is judgmental, closed minded, self-righteous, fearful, so heavenly minded that he’s no earthly good.” Like every group in human history we need to keep coming back to the real purpose, the true essence, of who we are and what we should be doing. To put it in the language of our 1st Scripture Lesson from the book of Jeremiah, we go to broken cisterns that cannot hold water again and again, and so, must be led back to the fountain of living water again and again. We need this passage in the book of Hebrews to stay rooted in what we should be doing. How we should be living. We must stay rooted in the qualities that Christ embodied, so the author of Hebrews writes: “Let mutual love continue.” “Let mutual love continue.” Don’t let it stop. It’s as though the author of Hebrews were saying to us, “You’ve been loved by God, saved by his grace; you’ve memorized the verse, “for God so loved the world that he gave his only son” so don’t you accept this love and fail to pass it to your neighbor.” Don’t put a fence around it so that you love the members of your family who you like, the members of your church who you know, and the people who voted for the same people you did. That’s not letting mutual love continue, that’s showing the world that Christian love is for some and not for others. If you think it’s bad that some people think taekwondo is about breaking legs or that physicians stray from the Hippocratic Oath than be disgusted that the Church has lived in such a way that many in our world are convinced that God’s love is for some and not for others. Hebrew’s demands that we “let mutual love continue,” though we’ve left people out according to race, fenced in love according to standards of sexuality, and built up an idol that makes God’s love look like something that not everyone deserves, when nothing could be further from the truth. “Let mutual love continue, and do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.” Don’t you know that’s true? I was reading in Atlanta Magazine last week about a man named Marshall Rancifer who spends his nights helping homeless people. He gives them food, takes them to find medical care, and if needed, when they’re ready, into recovery for addiction. According to the article he’s helped over 2,000 people get off the streets, but his story started when he himself was homeless, and found help and comfort in the shelter at Central Presbyterian Church downtown. We don’t often know what’s going on in the life of the strangers we meet, but too often our assumption is that they’re probably up to no good and should be avoided, when the book of Hebrews urges us to entertain the possibility that the ones we call stranger might be an angel poised to change the world or even Christ himself. “Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it. (And) Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them; those who are being tortured, as though you yourselves were being tortured” even though it is so easy to forget every last one of them. They put jails and prisons where they do, way out from the road, near the landfill and under the cover of a hillside so that we won’t have to trouble ourselves with the thought of them. However, I saw a picture this week that brought their struggle right into my living room. It was a picture of all the rosaries collected back in 2007 from men and women detained for illegally crossing the border. Of course, it’s true that this issue has seen greater press coverage recently, but the problem goes back longer and the root cause is universal: that men and women filled with hope move north from South and Central America to try and find a better life. When I saw the rosaries their faith became clear, and so did their humanity. “Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them; those who are being tortured, as though you yourselves were being tortured [for are they not God’s children too?] (And) let marriage be held in honor by all, and let the marriage bed be kept undefiled; for God will judge fornicators and adulterers. Keep your lives free from the love of money, and be content with what you have.” Some reflections of scholar and Episcopal Priest, Gray Temple helped me to understand this part better: “You come to resemble what you admire. People who admire money get green and crinkly. People who admire computers grow user-unfriendly. People who admire youth get juvenile.” And I would add that people who can’t stop looking will never know satisfaction. On the other hand, “People who actively and deliberately admire Jesus Christ come to resemble him” and Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. Isn’t that the point of this whole lesson in Hebrews? And maybe that’s the point of our entire religion: that Jesus’ life is to be mirrored in you and me. So, as you consider this table today, be mindful of the life of the one who has prepared it. The one who, though he was the King of Kings, set the table and waits on us as a servant. This food he has prepared is his body, and this wine, it is his blood; both he offers that we might know our worth and the worth of our neighbor whom he has prepared it for. The bill will come, but he has already paid it with his life. All he asks is that the light that shines in him, shine also in you and me. May it be so. Amen.

Our God Is a Consuming Fire

Scripture Lessons: Jeremiah 1: 4-10 and Hebrews 12: 18-29 Sermon Title: Our God Is a Consuming Fire Preached on August 25, 2019 The amount of communication we’ve received from our children’s teachers this year has been impressive. Among many other messages, this past week we received one teacher’s newsletter, which began this way: Last week was a very busy week of learning new routines and diving right into this year’s assigned concepts and standards. The students have had a lot of new responsibilities and expectations and many have already eagerly been working to take them on. It is important that we, as the community and families that surround these students, frequently encourage them, remind them how much we believe in them, and maintain the high expectations that we know they are capable of achieving. I thought this message was quite inspirational, but in light of today’s Scripture Lessons, I’d like to reframe some of her language to what might be even more motivating. I wonder how it would feel to parents if their children’s teacher sent home a message like this: Your children are in dire need of reform. They stand on the cusp of abject failure and doom, performing so far below their assigned concepts and standards that their minds are like a deep darkness. So, while today my classroom is all gloom, like a tempest, I will drown their misconceptions and pluck up and pull down their laziness. Some might tremble with fear at the sight of me, but parents, please encourage and remind them that my class is a consuming fire to burn up their ignorance, that wisdom might shine out of each one of them. I don’t imagine such a message would be received well, while again and again this is the message of Scripture. Radical change is necessary. Old habits must be left behind, and there is no time for mincing words. Even Jesus, when he walked the earth said, among other things, “I will separate the wheat from the chaff. I will put a new heart within you [because (to paraphrase) the heart you have isn’t getting you where you need to go].” The Prophets, especially, used the same kind of language to describe God’s work in the world: Amos spoke of the plumb line used by God to measure the crookedness of our society’s walls, that we might be rebuilt with justice and righteousness. Malachi said that our God is like a refiner of silver, who will heat us and refine us until we reflect his image, or that He is like a fuller who will scrub us with fuller’s soap until all impurity is bleached out of us. These are images that are familiar enough in Scripture, but teachers can’t talk this way. Or can you imagine if your doctor looked over your blood work and quoted from the prophet Isaiah: “You have become like one who is unclean, and all your righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth. You are fading like a leaf, and your iniquities, like the wind, are going to take you away.” That’s just not how people talk, but why? My sense is that in our world today, it’s because parents who received a harsh message from their child’s teacher would move their child to a different class as soon as possible. Likewise, we want our doctors to be nice and we’ll change doctors if ours isn’t, which is normal enough, however where is the line between being nice and tolerating bad behavior? Where is the line between being kind and mollifying those who are hurting themselves? Where is the line between lying and telling the truth? We are a people who need to change and we live in a world that needs to change. I know it, you know it. But who among us wants to be corrected? Isn’t it much nicer to be affirmed? This week President Trump re-tweeted a quote about himself from Wayne Allen Root who said, “President Trump is the greatest president for Jews and for Israel in the history of the world.” According to the Washington Post, encouraged by these accolades the President said, “I am the chosen one,” which is a bold statement. It might be going out on a limb a little bit, but this morning I’d like to say that, maybe he’s not exactly right about that. However, this is how we all are in a sense. Even when reform is needed, we’d rather be patted on the back. What must be addressed are the bad habits that clog our arteries, but we don’t want to change our diet. On the road to education, what must be confronted first is the reality of ignorance in a culture of persistent denial, but critical words are hard to hear, and I wonder if that’s because we fear that we are either wheat or chaff, not both. That’s been a problem of mine for a long time, though I’m learning to deal with it. I left Marietta High School thinking that I was all wheat, thought there was plenty of chaff to deal with. I graduated with a 3.7 grade point average, which at first, sounds pretty good. Then I arrived at Presbyterian College and realized that maybe padding my Senior year with two periods of shop and one of weight training hadn’t been such a good idea. I tested right into remedial English where I had to face the reality that there were big holes in my education. For example, I didn’t understand how to choose which article, “a” or “an,” should go before an adjective of noun. My teacher noticed this and when she suggested I go and get some help from a tutor it was a blow to my self-esteem. I faced an important decision then: heed her advice or try to change teachers. You know the right answer here but think about how some people view higher education. I could have just gone back home telling my parents that, “grandpa was right. The academy’s been taken over by the liberals who teach evolution and insist that I use the correct determiners in my sentences.” If Jesus said he will be separating the wheat from the chaff, before we can deal with such a challenge, we must first be assured that we are not the chaff. If the prophets said that we are in need of reform, first we must believe that we are worth reforming. If our God is a consuming fire, first we must know that they hymn has it right: it’s our dross that he’ll consume and our gold that he’ll refine, because our God doesn’t want us going up in smoke. Too many of us can’t hear criticism, because when we hit walls in life, when we make mistakes, we think we’re the mistake. Far too many of us confuse correction with condemnation and refinement with rejection. That’s true. We think of grades on a test the same way we think of grades on an egg carton. Some are “As”, a lucky few “AAs”, but once one is labeled as a “bad egg,” he’s fed to the pigs in the slop bucket. Not so with God. Such labeling might make sense with eggs, but don’t be confused. It’s never that way with God. With God, redemption and not rejection is always the point. Consider our First Scripture Lesson. Here we have that great story of Jeremiah the young prophet. He’s only a boy. Then God came along and spoke right to him. A special responsibility He gives Jeremiah, to “pluck up and pull down, destroy and overthrow,” which sounds quite violent, unless you understand the character of God. For God treats His people the way a gardener weeds his garden. God looks upon the plot and says, “Sure, there is work to do.” “Sure, weeds must be pulled and rocky soil tilled,” but God isn’t going to reject the garden for its defects. God is going to refine the garden until it bears fruit. In the book of Hebrews, it’s the same story. In our Second Scripture reading there is a blazing fire. Darkness, gloom, and a tempest. The sound of a trumpet and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that not another word be spoken. The message is terrifying but remember that this message to us comes from God, who doesn’t give up on His people. You see, by the testimony of Scripture, what becomes clear is God’s intention, that we, be not condemned, but corrected; not rejected, but refined. Our God is a consuming fire, and knowing His character what will be consumed? We fear it will be all of who we are. Only, according to Hebrews, it is for the removal of what can be shaken, that what cannot be shaken may remain. This is how we must understand hardship and trials, test scores and doctor’s appointments, divorces and lawsuits. If life is hard, let us let go of the parts of ourselves that hold us back. If there are bumps in the road, let them shake off our baggage, not derail our journey. When we are tried and persecuted, let us give up on our broken ways of doing things to learn something new. But, to do that, something has to change. We can’t turn back to the old ways; like the Ancient Hebrew people, to have new life we must leave Egypt behind. To bear fruit, we must allow our weeds to be pulled. To receive the Kingdom that cannot be shaken, we must allow the removal of what can be shaken that what is eternal might remain. I believe that’s true, and I believe it’s just like that for a lot of new parents. It’s not all smiles and cuteness, for a baby requires a parent to leave an old life behind. So, when some people call babies little bundles of joy, I don’t. I can think of baptisms that were like trying to baptize a racoon, and I see most babies as wreaking balls who renovate their parents’ lives completely. I think parenthood is something like an old State Farm Insurance commercial. This one featured a man who says he’s never getting married in one scene, and in the next he’s buying a wedding ring. Then he tells his wife in an airplane surrounded by crying babies that they’re never having kids, and in the next scene his wife is delivering their first child. As he cleans a crayon drawing off the wall of their house he says, “we’re never having another kid,” to which his wife responds: “I’m pregnant.” The commercial ends with this man who made all these declarations about what he was never going to do, but on the couch surrounded by his wife and children he voices one last never: “I’m never letting go.” If our God is a consuming fire, then a father must often decide whether or not he will allow the motorcycle to be consumed, because there isn’t room enough in the garage or his life for that and the minivan. Those who go off to school face the same decision. If our God is a consuming fire will they allow their ego to go up in flames that they might learn more than they already think they know? Will politicians listen and change or just go on defending what’s always been? As we age will we allow our freedom, independence, and our driver’s license to go up in flames that we might still hold onto dignity and safety? Our God is preparing us for a new life, so what will we hold onto? Our old life? Our career? Our pride? Our innocence? Our fear? When the earth shakes and the flames come, let go of vanity, that what cannot be shaken, that what is eternal might remain. Amen.