Today’s reading from Ezekiel requires a bit of context to really understand it. Ezekiel was a prophet during the Babylonian exile in the early 6th century BCE. His prophecies primarily consist of explaining what the Israelites have done wrong, telling them what they need to do in order to get out of their predicament, and occasionally reminding them of God’s love (you know, so they don’t feel completely hopeless all the time). Chapter 18 addresses a common concern for the Israelites (and, as we remembered last week, for us, too): fairness. Apparently, God had overheard someone complaining that the exile was punishment for their parents’ sins. From this person’s perspective, God allowed the Babylonians to take over their homeland because the older generation had been faithless. Yet they, the 6th century equivalent of millennials, had taken no part in those sins. So why were they still stuck in exile?
Sunday, September 27, 2020
Sermon: “The Runaway Train”, Ezekiel 18:1-4, 25-32 (September 27, 2020)
Today’s reading from Ezekiel requires a bit of context to really understand it. Ezekiel was a prophet during the Babylonian exile in the early 6th century BCE. His prophecies primarily consist of explaining what the Israelites have done wrong, telling them what they need to do in order to get out of their predicament, and occasionally reminding them of God’s love (you know, so they don’t feel completely hopeless all the time). Chapter 18 addresses a common concern for the Israelites (and, as we remembered last week, for us, too): fairness. Apparently, God had overheard someone complaining that the exile was punishment for their parents’ sins. From this person’s perspective, God allowed the Babylonians to take over their homeland because the older generation had been faithless. Yet they, the 6th century equivalent of millennials, had taken no part in those sins. So why were they still stuck in exile?
Sunday, September 20, 2020
Sermon: “It’s Not (Supposed to Be) Fair”, Matthew 20:1-15 (September 20, 2020)
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Are you ever surprised by how many scripture passages remind you of parental lessons from your childhood, or is it just me? It’s almost as if…our parents knew what they were talking about. Weird, huh? When I read this week’s passage, all I could hear was my mom’s voice saying, “You and your sister have different needs, so you get treated differently. It’s not about being fair; it’s about doing what’s best for each of you.” Interestingly, I remember being most incensed about this argument when my sister was allowed to get her ears pierced much earlier than I’d been allowed to, but I digress. The point is that, regardless of what my childish sense of justice perceived as fair, it was my parents’ job and prerogative to distribute resources (and ear piercings) based on what they determined each of us needed to survive and thrive. If that meant that one of us got a better “deal” than the other, well, that was their call. I think that most of us adults would agree that this is the right and proper way for such decisions to be made: not based on what’s objectively “fair”, but what the guardian believes is best.
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Sunday, September 13, 2020
Sermon: "What Really Divides Us", Romans 14:1-6/Galatians 2:11-14 (September 13, 2020)
As some of you know, I performed my first wedding here as the pastor of Boone Memorial Presbyterian Church yesterday. It was a joyful occasion, of course, and I was reminded once again of the blessing that this calling to ministry can be, even in the midst of a pandemic. I’ve been meeting with the newlyweds over the past several months in order to plan the ceremony and talk about their future life together, plus my own third wedding anniversary is in less than a month, so I’ve spent a lot of time recently reflecting on about the experience of joining two lives to one another. I’ve also been puzzling over how on earth anyone makes it work.
Monday, August 31, 2020
GUEST Sermon (Donna Oyama): "Singing in the Time of Covid", Psalm 100 (August 30, 2020)
Pastor's note: Many, many thanks to Donna Oyama for agreeing to lead worship and share a message this past week while I was on vacation. (She says she said "yes" because God was pushing her to challenge herself; I think it was because God knew her voice needed to be heard!)
When she told me that she was going to be using Psalm 100 as her primary passage, I was delighted. I bet Donna didn't remember, but that was the scripture I used in the very first sermon of this series way back in the middle of June! Her words created the perfect bookend to our summer series by reinforcing many of the themes that we've touched on over the past 3 months with brand new illustrations that never would have occurred to me...and I didn't have to say a thing! The Holy Spirit was definitely moving this week.
When she told me that she was going to be using Psalm 100 as her primary passage, I was delighted. I bet Donna didn't remember, but that was the scripture I used in the very first sermon of this series way back in the middle of June! Her words created the perfect bookend to our summer series by reinforcing many of the themes that we've touched on over the past 3 months with brand new illustrations that never would have occurred to me...and I didn't have to say a thing! The Holy Spirit was definitely moving this week.
I'm grateful for Donna's willingness to share her gift with words this week, her sign language skills with us every week, and her faith in our community every day! -- KSW
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When Katey asked congregation members to submit their favorite hymns for her sermon series, I told her I have too many to single out only one. Even so, I am amazed at how many of my favorites she has touched upon this summer. “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” “Great Is Thy Faithfulness,” “Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee.” Each of these holds a special place in my mind and heart. I even learned a couple hymns that were new to me. “His Eye Is on the Sparrow” is an old favorite for many; I was only vaguely familiar with it.
Through hymns we celebrate, we praise God, we beg forgiveness, we plead for miracles, hope, comfort, and mercy. We all have our favorites. We love to sing along with the choir, or in the choir. We love to hum along when we don’t know the words. We harmonize. We clap our hands to the up-tempo songs, and close our eyes to enjoy the comfort of the quieter ones.
It is ironic that we should have spent this time focusing on singing during this time of COVID-19. Medical experts warn us that singing is not safe, that it can spread the insidious virus faster and farther than talking. In fact, singing these days is downright dangerous. In March of this year some sixty members of the Skagit Valley Chorale met at a Mt. Vernon, Washington church to rehearse. Skagit County had not yet reported any cases of the virus. Chorale members practiced social distancing and followed other safety measures. Unbeknownst to those present, one member had been infected with COVID-19. Fifty-three choir members became ill, some seriously enough to be hospitalized. Two died.*
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 tells us there is a time for everything. Specifically, verse 7 says, “A time to be silent, and a time to speak.” This time of COVID seems to be one of those times when we need to be silent, at least where singing is concerned.
It is ironic that we should have spent this time focusing on singing during this time of COVID-19. Medical experts warn us that singing is not safe, that it can spread the insidious virus faster and farther than talking. In fact, singing these days is downright dangerous. In March of this year some sixty members of the Skagit Valley Chorale met at a Mt. Vernon, Washington church to rehearse. Skagit County had not yet reported any cases of the virus. Chorale members practiced social distancing and followed other safety measures. Unbeknownst to those present, one member had been infected with COVID-19. Fifty-three choir members became ill, some seriously enough to be hospitalized. Two died.*
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 tells us there is a time for everything. Specifically, verse 7 says, “A time to be silent, and a time to speak.” This time of COVID seems to be one of those times when we need to be silent, at least where singing is concerned.
That does not mean that we cannot search for other ways to offer songs and praise to God. As a congregation, we have already begun to use silent, sign language responses to the familiar liturgy of the worship service. You have watched and contemplated the lyrics of hymns as Sylvia played and I signed. I sometimes sign to music when I am alone; and now you know a song to sign, too.
(I have enjoyed signing for you by the way. Sign language holds a special place in my life, because in a way, signing gave me my voice in the world. But that’s another story for another time.)
As this time of quietness continues, we can find still other ways to “sing”.
The first alternative to singing that comes to my mind is through instrumental music. Percussion, piano, organ, strings—although nothing that involves blowing air into an instrument, please. Shucks. I guess that rules out pennywhistles and kazoos. But I have my shaker eggs, and a friend has a potato, so it’s all good.
We can listen to our favorite recordings.
We can sing in the shower.
We can write songs and poems to be sung later.
We can choose our favorites from the hymnal and ponder the words. If you’d like to make it a Bible study, there is a good resource at the back of the Glory to God hymnal; a lectionary index beginning on page 968. A quick Google search could also help you out.
If you are like me, you can sing in your mind as Corinthians 14:15 suggests. “I shall sing with the spirit and I shall sing with the mind, also.” Of course, singing with your mind involves using that blessed annoyance called the earworm to your advantage.
Way down deep in the recesses of my mind lives a disc jockey, spawned and mentored by the likes of Wolfman Jack. (Kids—if you don’t know who that is, ask your grandparents.) My DJ sits in the radio studio of my brain surrounded by his thousands of records from all eras and genres. He is mischievous. His goal is to drive me bonkers.
Ordinarily, my DJ chooses a relatively harmless song to play. The song becomes my background music for a few days. I often ignore it, but it returns to my mind when I’m not thinking of something else.
Other times, the DJ decides to entertain me with that inane little ditty involving three generations of a family of dangerous sea animals. Kids love it. I’ll spare you the earworm and not name the song, but for those of you who have it figured out, it’s already streaming in your mind, right? I can hear my Wolfman wannabe howling with delight as the silly children’s song loops round and round and round, never ending, driving me to distraction.
Once in a while, the DJ chooses to play something I need at that moment—a hymn, a favorite oldie, some calming classical music. It is as though he has actually listened to God’s advice and has given me something worth pondering for a change. Once I have enjoyed the selection, I am able to make a request to the DJ to play my hymn of choice to sing in my mind.
Today’s Scripture reading, Psalm 100, tells us to “Make a joyful noise unto the Lord...” We often think of making a joyful noise as singing. But consider this. The Message version of Psalm 100 says, “ On your feet now—applaud God.” There just might be other ways to make a joyful noise.
Walt Whitman’s poem, “I Hear America Singing” speaks of workers across this land who sing through their work. It isn’t a long poem, so I can share it with you.
(I have enjoyed signing for you by the way. Sign language holds a special place in my life, because in a way, signing gave me my voice in the world. But that’s another story for another time.)
As this time of quietness continues, we can find still other ways to “sing”.
The first alternative to singing that comes to my mind is through instrumental music. Percussion, piano, organ, strings—although nothing that involves blowing air into an instrument, please. Shucks. I guess that rules out pennywhistles and kazoos. But I have my shaker eggs, and a friend has a potato, so it’s all good.
We can listen to our favorite recordings.
We can sing in the shower.
We can write songs and poems to be sung later.
We can choose our favorites from the hymnal and ponder the words. If you’d like to make it a Bible study, there is a good resource at the back of the Glory to God hymnal; a lectionary index beginning on page 968. A quick Google search could also help you out.
If you are like me, you can sing in your mind as Corinthians 14:15 suggests. “I shall sing with the spirit and I shall sing with the mind, also.” Of course, singing with your mind involves using that blessed annoyance called the earworm to your advantage.
Way down deep in the recesses of my mind lives a disc jockey, spawned and mentored by the likes of Wolfman Jack. (Kids—if you don’t know who that is, ask your grandparents.) My DJ sits in the radio studio of my brain surrounded by his thousands of records from all eras and genres. He is mischievous. His goal is to drive me bonkers.
Ordinarily, my DJ chooses a relatively harmless song to play. The song becomes my background music for a few days. I often ignore it, but it returns to my mind when I’m not thinking of something else.
Other times, the DJ decides to entertain me with that inane little ditty involving three generations of a family of dangerous sea animals. Kids love it. I’ll spare you the earworm and not name the song, but for those of you who have it figured out, it’s already streaming in your mind, right? I can hear my Wolfman wannabe howling with delight as the silly children’s song loops round and round and round, never ending, driving me to distraction.
Once in a while, the DJ chooses to play something I need at that moment—a hymn, a favorite oldie, some calming classical music. It is as though he has actually listened to God’s advice and has given me something worth pondering for a change. Once I have enjoyed the selection, I am able to make a request to the DJ to play my hymn of choice to sing in my mind.
Today’s Scripture reading, Psalm 100, tells us to “Make a joyful noise unto the Lord...” We often think of making a joyful noise as singing. But consider this. The Message version of Psalm 100 says, “ On your feet now—applaud God.” There just might be other ways to make a joyful noise.
Walt Whitman’s poem, “I Hear America Singing” speaks of workers across this land who sing through their work. It isn’t a long poem, so I can share it with you.
“I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,
The wood-cutter’s song, the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown,
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing,
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,
The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.”
We, too, can sing. We can applaud God, as we go about our daily lives.
When I use geometric shapes to piece together a quilt, I sing the orderliness of God’s creation.
The neighbor who shares those ubiquitous tomatoes and zucchinis from his garden sings God’s bounty and abundance.
A piece of artwork, a culinary masterpiece, or a garden landscape--each sings the beauty of His world.
The school volunteer who sits and reads with children sings God’s love for His children.
Demonstrators marching against injustice to the oppressed sing God’s justice.
Those who minister to children locked up at the border sing His compassion.
Oskar Schindler who employed Jews in his factory to save them from the deadly horrors of Auschwitz, sang God’s concern for the oppressed.
The food bank volunteer who packs and distributes boxes of needed commodities sings His command to feed those in need.
When former President Jimmy Carter helps build houses with Habitat for Humanity, he sings dignity for those who are struggling and need a hand up.
Sister Helen Prejean whose story is told in Dead Man Walking, sat and prayed with death row inmates as they were about to be executed and sang His mercy.
The songs we sing to God, the joyful noises we make are as many and as varied as the people who inhabit the earth. So make a joyful noise! Find your song. Share your produce. Make a quilt. Paint a picture. Volunteer where there is a need. Sing God’s mercy, His love, His compassion, His beauty, His abundance. Belt it out when no one else is around. Sing it in your mind! Whatever your song and however you sing it, God hears you. Amen
-------------------------------------------------------
*LA Times, CDC
When I use geometric shapes to piece together a quilt, I sing the orderliness of God’s creation.
The neighbor who shares those ubiquitous tomatoes and zucchinis from his garden sings God’s bounty and abundance.
A piece of artwork, a culinary masterpiece, or a garden landscape--each sings the beauty of His world.
The school volunteer who sits and reads with children sings God’s love for His children.
Demonstrators marching against injustice to the oppressed sing God’s justice.
Those who minister to children locked up at the border sing His compassion.
Oskar Schindler who employed Jews in his factory to save them from the deadly horrors of Auschwitz, sang God’s concern for the oppressed.
The food bank volunteer who packs and distributes boxes of needed commodities sings His command to feed those in need.
When former President Jimmy Carter helps build houses with Habitat for Humanity, he sings dignity for those who are struggling and need a hand up.
Sister Helen Prejean whose story is told in Dead Man Walking, sat and prayed with death row inmates as they were about to be executed and sang His mercy.
The songs we sing to God, the joyful noises we make are as many and as varied as the people who inhabit the earth. So make a joyful noise! Find your song. Share your produce. Make a quilt. Paint a picture. Volunteer where there is a need. Sing God’s mercy, His love, His compassion, His beauty, His abundance. Belt it out when no one else is around. Sing it in your mind! Whatever your song and however you sing it, God hears you. Amen
-------------------------------------------------------
*LA Times, CDC
(c) Donna Oyama, 2020
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Sunday, August 23, 2020
Sermon: “Make a Joyful Noise: Faith Begins By Letting Go” (“The New Normal”), Exodus 1:8-14, 2:5-10 (August 23, 2020)
Today, the lectionary draws our attention to the very beginning of the Exodus story. You may recall that at the end of Genesis, Joseph and his family were reunited in Egypt, with Joseph second only to Pharaoh in power and influence: a happy ending if there ever was one. Their descendants, the Hebrew people, flourished for years in their adopted homeland, and they built a very comfortable life for themselves. But by the beginning of Exodus, things have changed. We meet a new Pharaoh who “didn’t know Joseph”, who felt threatened by his descendants, and therefore decided to put a stop to their prosperity. He put them to work for the Egyptians.
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Sunday, August 16, 2020
Sermon: “Make a Joyful Noise: What A Friend We Have In Jesus” ("Thoughts & Prayers"), Matthew 15:21-28 (August 16, 2020)
As people of faith, we believe in the power of prayer. We believe that prayer is a gift, a way for us to connect with the divine and to be heard in our petitions. Today’s hymn, “What A Friend We Have In Jesus”, describes prayer in glowing terms, making it sound downright miraculous—any pain, no matter how profound; any sorrow, no matter how deep; any burden, no matter how heavy, evaporates into thin air if we just bring it to Jesus in prayer. Ask, and ye shall instantly receive, so to speak. It’s no wonder that when something terrible happens, we’ve been conditioned to lift up prayers as our very first response. After all, why not start with our most powerful tool right out of the gate?
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Sunday, August 9, 2020
Sermon: “Make a Joyful Noise: Great Is Thy Faithfulness” (“Get Off the Fence”), Genesis 37:17b-30 (August 9, 2020)
I want to begin today’s sermon with a story. There once was a little girl named Ruby. Ruby loved cookies. I mean LOVED them. Like, Cookie Monster had nothing on her. Her mother couldn't even keep cookies in the house, because as soon as Ruby discovered them, they were as good as gone. She seemed to have the metabolism of a teenage boy; otherwise, there was no way to explain how so many cookies could fit into such a tiny body.
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