Get Up & Eat

1 Kings 19: 4-8

Roger Lynn

August 26, 2018

(click here for the audio for this sermon)
(click here for the video for this sermon)

David Wilcox sings a song about a man in the midst of a mid-life crisis of meaning. He heads off to India and climbs into the mountains to find the “Wise Man” who will be able to offer him the words of wisdom which will give new meaning and purpose to his life. The wise man’s surprising answer is, in part, to get up and eat some broccoli. And while I might have chosen a different source of nutrition, the point is well taken. Sometimes when life gets overwhelming we forget to take care of ourselves physically, emotionally, spiritually, which only serves to exacerbate the problem of perspective.

The prophet Elijah was in a hard spot. He found himself on the wrong side of the queen, and his life was at risk. He gets overwhelmed and chooses to respond to the situation by running away. Not only does he run away, but along the way he pouts and whines as well. Taking a page out of the play book from the Israelites’ days in the wilderness, he says to God, “Just kill me now! Get it over with. Life is horrible and I can’t see any reason to go on.” God’s answer, like that of the wise man in Wilcox’ song, is surprisingly simple. “Get up and eat.” God has to say it twice, because Elijah wasn’t ready to hear it the first time. “Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.” (1 Kings 19:7)

Re-Imagining God

Song of Solomon 2: 8-13

Roger Lynn

August 19, 2018

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It may be true that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but the names we use do matter. How we describe something, or someone, has a profound impact on how we experience that which is being described. My neighbor may be the kindest, gentlest person on the planet, but if I’ve got it in my head that he is angry, violent, and abusive I’m not likely to invite him over for dinner. Nor am I likely to encourage my family and friends to spend time with him. The names we use do matter.

How we talk about God matters. It doesn’t change who God is, but it certainly affects how we experience God. And it affects how we relate to the world “in God’s name.” Throughout history there have been countless names for God. Even just within our own tradition there are a great many. The hymns and readings we are using in today’s service lift up several of these. And yet, the lion’s share of the time God is described with a very small handful of names. Even just a casual glance through our hymnal reveals how often “Father” and/or “Lord” show up. Both have gender-exclusive limitations. Both have patriarchal and hierarchical overtones. Lord has militaristic and/or feudal implications. And yet, these two names are frequently the only terms people use to reference God. 

In poetry, when trying to describe something vast and incomprehensible, a wide variety of images and descriptive words are brought to bear. Imagine what might happen if we were to use that same approach with our understanding of God. How might our lives and our world be transformed if we began to “re-imagine” God? 

Coming To Our Senses

Psalm 95: 1-5 & Genesis 1: 26-31

Roger Lynn

August 12, 2018

Breakfast Under the Big Sky

(there is no audio or video for this week – they will be available again next Sunday)

As living, breathing human beings who have been created in the image of God we have ways of perceiving reality that go beyond just what is possible through our five senses. We are spiritual beings as well as physical beings. We are more than just our bodies. But we are not less than our bodies. Much of how we experience the world around us, even its spiritual dimensions, happens through touching, tasting, hearing, seeing, and smelling. The ancient Hebrew people understood this. They had a holistic view of who we are as human beings – body and spirit are not separate and distinct, but deeply and intricately intertwined and interconnected. We see this understanding reflected in the worship practices of the church down through the centuries as well. Incense has been used, candles have been lit, bells have been rung, foreheads have been anointed with oil, communion wine has been shared. Various means have been used to engage our senses in the experience of worship. But in spite of such practices and deeply embedded understandings, all too often we forget. There seem to be so many forces conspiring to cut us off from sensual experiences – from the air-conditioned air we breath and the processed food we eat to the ways we are often encouraged to avoid touching each other or even looking at each other. We get out of touch with our senses, lose sight of our humanity, and become disconnected from God. 

So every once in a while it is important for us to be intentional about taking steps to help us remember. Occasionally we need to come to our senses, literally. That is the real reason why we bring our worship out to a setting such as this. It presents us with a fresh opportunity to rediscover the ways in which our senses connect us with the rich spiritual dimensions of our lives. Take just a moment to become aware of the world around you. What do you see? What do you smell? What do you hear? What do you taste? What do you feel? How long has it been since you last remembered to be aware of these sensations? Imagine that they are additional lines of connection linking you to God’s gift of creation. Imagine that they are additional pathways leading you to God. 

It Happened at Dance Camp

1 Chronicles 13:8
Roger Lynn
August 5, 2018
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Susan and I spent this past week on the shores of Flathead Lake at Wilderness Dance Camp. We joined with about 85 other people to share together in singing and dancing and praying and playing together. And when I say dancing I mean that we join hands in a circle, with the musicians in the center, moving our bodies using movements that evoke the meaning of the sacred words we are singing. We were women and men, young and old, single and partnered, gay and straight, from near and far. We sang in English and Spanish, Hebrew and Greek, Arabic and Aramaic, Mayan and Sanskrit. The words we sang were Christian and Jewish and Islamic. They were Buddhist and Hindu. They were Mayan and Native American. And in all of that rich variety and diversity, what we experienced was a unity of Spirit as we came together in sacred space and opened ourselves to the One Sacred Presence which goes by many names and is beyond the capacity of any name to fully capture.