A. Unabashed Pacifist:
To what part of peace do people object?
B. Unabashed Christian:
Holy One,
On the mountain, a cloud hid you from view so that I could not see you clearly. I thought you handed me legal tablets for guiding my life.
On the mountain, I hid in a cave, fearing for my life, ready to die. You sustained me, then showed me you were not contained in great natural phenomena.
On the mountain, you came to me in a still small voice. That voice encouraged me to live on in faithful service.
On the mountain, I saw the tempter come to Jesus, offering him fame, following and power if he would place his trust in something other than you. Jesus made it clear that he would trust in your still small voice instead.
On the mountain, I heard Jesus teach the way of trust in you. Then he made that way even more clear in his ministry and his death.
On the mountain, I approach you once again. Help me see my way into the valley where the mountain’s teachings make a mountain of difference.
Amen
C. Un-quoting Jesus:
“Matthew, did you bring your tape recorder? I’m feeling pretty good about this sermon.”
[How else did it get into the gospel? No, He never said this.]
D. Blog: Life Without Timepieces
How did people function before clocks and watches?
“I’ll meet you soon after sunup.”
“We’ll start work on your shed when full moon comes.”
“Let’s get together on each 7th day when the sun is high in the sky.”
I see one major implication in this lack of timepieces: a greater awareness of natural time rather than artificial time. Our tighter measurements of time make for tighter schedules and, in too many cases, minimal sense of connection to the natural environment and its rhythms. Even when we have opportunity to retreat from our workaday schedules, we tend to cram our retreat days with activities – scheduled or not – that keep us bound to counting, comparing and measuring. Little time left for reconnecting with and enjoying the natural world.
To what part of peace do people object?
B. Unabashed Christian:
Holy One,
On the mountain, a cloud hid you from view so that I could not see you clearly. I thought you handed me legal tablets for guiding my life.
On the mountain, I hid in a cave, fearing for my life, ready to die. You sustained me, then showed me you were not contained in great natural phenomena.
On the mountain, you came to me in a still small voice. That voice encouraged me to live on in faithful service.
On the mountain, I saw the tempter come to Jesus, offering him fame, following and power if he would place his trust in something other than you. Jesus made it clear that he would trust in your still small voice instead.
On the mountain, I heard Jesus teach the way of trust in you. Then he made that way even more clear in his ministry and his death.
On the mountain, I approach you once again. Help me see my way into the valley where the mountain’s teachings make a mountain of difference.
Amen
C. Un-quoting Jesus:
“Matthew, did you bring your tape recorder? I’m feeling pretty good about this sermon.”
[How else did it get into the gospel? No, He never said this.]
D. Blog: Life Without Timepieces
How did people function before clocks and watches?
“I’ll meet you soon after sunup.”
“We’ll start work on your shed when full moon comes.”
“Let’s get together on each 7th day when the sun is high in the sky.”
I see one major implication in this lack of timepieces: a greater awareness of natural time rather than artificial time. Our tighter measurements of time make for tighter schedules and, in too many cases, minimal sense of connection to the natural environment and its rhythms. Even when we have opportunity to retreat from our workaday schedules, we tend to cram our retreat days with activities – scheduled or not – that keep us bound to counting, comparing and measuring. Little time left for reconnecting with and enjoying the natural world.
We need more “whatever” time.
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