Here's Pigasus again!

For Selbyjr: Let's have a serious talk . . .

Trivia. Probably easy for you: from where is the excerpt below? I'd like to have a long conversation about it . . .


Next month, when the city had returned to its sun-baked quiet, he did a thing no Englishman would have dreamed of doing; for, so far as the world's affairs went, he died. The jewelled order of his knighthood went back to the Indian Government, and a new Prime Minister was appointed to the charge of affairs, and a great game of General Post began in all the subordinate appointments.

The priests knew what had happened, and the people guessed; but India is the one place in the world where a man can do as he pleases and nobody asks why; and the fact that Dewan Sir Purun Dass, K.C.I.E., had resigned position, palace, and power, and taken up the begging-bowl and ochre-coloured dress of a Sunnyasi, or holy man, was considered nothing extraordinary. He had been, as the Old Law recommends, twenty years a youth, twenty years a fighter,--though he had never carried a weapon in his life,--and twenty years head of a household. He had used his wealth and his power for what he knew both to be worth; he had taken honour when it came his way; he had seen men and cities far and near, and men and cities had stood up and honoured him. Now he would let those things go, as a man drops the cloak he no longer needs.

Wrestling with God

Sermon “Wrestling with God”

Henry G. Selby

All Saints’ Episcopal Church

Morristown, Tennessee

The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost

July 31, 2011

“May the words of my mouth and the mediation of my heart be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer.” AMEN.

The topic for today is blessings! Here’s a made-up story: Tom was a 34 year old computer programmer who had unresolved issues with his father, a diagnosed workaholic who was cold, distant, and who never really seemed to love anyone or anything. Tom was married, had a reasonably high paying job, and two sons of his own. He looked successful. And he was resolved not to have a dysfunctional relationship with his wife and children in the pattern of his own family of origin. But when the patterns established by his first family began to emerge in his own behaviors, he became, in a word, neurotic. For a long time he resisted the idea of seeking any kind of professional – or even neighborly – advice on how to break a pattern of living that he knew would ruin his marriage and his relationship with his children. Eventually, though, he entered therapy.

Like most of us, and I think men are probably more like this than women, he just wanted to have someone give him the solution; he would then put that plan into practice and all would be well, quickly. The therapist’s words, however, were not comforting. It would take months, perhaps even years, to work through his unresolved issues. This is not good news for a programmer schooled in “outcome-based management” theory! The therapist told him that it was “like peeling the layers from an onion” and that his problems were like a barbed arrow that couldn’t be simply pulled out the way it entered the flesh, but had to go all the way through in order for healing to occur.” And so Tom began the long, sometimes tediously painful process of healing.

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Does any of that sound sort of familiar? We’ve all read similar stories in self-help books or even the Reader’s Digest with this kind of case history. If you were alive during the 1990’s you might have even bought some of these books yourself! “Making Peace with your Parents” was a biggie. So was “The Courage To Heal” and “The Power of Self Coaching” and so on. The books are all filled with case histories that end one of two ways: the troubled persons don’t follow through with therapy (for any number of reasons) and all is lost; OR, they follow through and live happily ever after.

Well, that’s not entirely true. There is a third scenario that appears once in a while: the “victim” (the oppressed person seeking help) is encouraged to be a wounded person, struggling till death, and seeking (and often receiving) sympathy all around. A living martyr. This “remain-a-victim” scenario is sinful and, let me assure you, anti-gospel!

But anyway, if the therapeutic healing process is successful, we in the religious world would call that a blessing. “Blessing” is a word we toss around pretty freely, and it is a word that is often being tossed around incorrectly (in my deeply held opinion) by modern Christians. “If God does what I want, God is blessing me” seems to be a prevalent way of expressing this idea. If God does what I want, God is blessing me.” I had a parent come to me one time while I was a headmaster in South Carolina who clearly was doing very well financially. Fancy cars, several homes, and money to burn. “We’re very blessed,” she told me.

So what is a blessing? The dictionary tells us that a blessing is a bestowing of holiness or divine will; or a way of showing or infusing approval. A glib person might think of a blessing as something like “God’s seal of good housekeeping”. Our English word from which we translate the Hebrew, by the way, originally meant to make things holy by a sacrifice, usually a blood sacrifice. The original Hebraic

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understanding was involved more with the favor of God or the hope of finding favor with God. In other words, when we say “God Bless You”, we’re really saying, “I pray that you find favor with God” or “may you find favor with God.” There’s a distinct hopefulness here.

Now you may have heard me say this before, but here’s the definition that I use for “blessing”: A blessing is anything that moves you closer to Union with your Creator. Hear that again: A blessing is anything that moves you closer to Union with your Creator.

I’ve had some mountaintop experiences in my life. You know what I mean: ecstatic moments, usually fleeting, where I know in the most profound and intimate way that God loves me and everything is working out to a perfection. As an aside, as a backpacker a lot of these mountaintop experiences actually occurred on a mountaintop! . . . but let that pass. These are valuable moments for me, although they are nearly impossible to “re-feel”, and any account I try to give of them falls miserably short of the mystical event.

On the other hand, I have a number a really bad “valley” experiences in my life too: Times when I was, like David, walking through the valley of the shadow of death. A feeling of being unloved, despairing, broken, hurt, hopeless. I can summon up feelings when I recollect those times. I can also give a pretty good account of them. And for me, the mountaintop experiences are times of assurance and hope. The valley experiences are times when I have something to learn. Isn’t that just awful? Isn’t that terrible news? But that’s the way it seems to be.

Here’s the interesting thing, though. When I do recollect those bad times, and I’m looking back from the other side, I realize that I was transformed from being a victim into a victor! We’ll come back to this.

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Today we heard the interesting story of Jacob wrestling with the angel . . . or depending upon which translation you read or where you read this account, wrestling with God or a man or a stranger. (we read from Genesis, but the account also occurs in Hosea). It’s an interesting story, but what can we make of it? Actually it’s a little odd, right? How did this dislocated hip story make it into Holy Scripture anyway?

Anyway, the quick recap is that the lyin’ cheatin’ untrustworthy, philandering, Jacob, who is so afraid that his loving brother might kill him on sight when they meet, that scoundrel who even sends his wives and children and servants ahead of him as he approaches his brother (were these human shields? Hmmmm), spends the night alone. He wrestles with God until daybreak. And then we have this strange dialog: "Let me go, for the day is breaking." But Jacob said, "I will not let you go unless you bless me."

Jacob was having what some call a “dark night of the soul.” He was not having a mountaintop experience. Jacob’s onion was being peeled away layer by layer. The barbed arrow was working all the way through.

My wife Cindy is a trained Stephen Minister. I don’t know if you’re familiar with this program, but essentially it pairs up care-givers with care-receivers who are able to connect with each other by deep mutual understanding of shared trauma. I’m not a Stephen Minister, but I am nosey, and I’ve read of lot of Cindy’s resources. I am deeply impressed by an overarching principle of this ministry that asks, in the midst of pain, “where is God in this?”

In the midst of the trauma, where is the blessing? “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”

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Can you call to mind right now a really tough time from your past? Not one you might be in now, but from your past: A death? Health issue? Broken relationship? Financial disaster? Can you reflect for just a moment on your valley experience? What was the outcome? Did you work all the way through it or bail out early. Did you emerge victorious or are you still a victim? Where was God in your crisis?

“I will not let you go unless you bless me.”

“A blessing is anything that moves you closer to Union with your Creator”

And then this from today’s Gospel lesson: 5,000 men (plus women and children) are fed with five loaves and two fishes. And food is left over. 12 baskets full. That just seems impossible.

Remember that really tough time from your past? Did that also seem insurmountable? When I have been in deepest despair, it also seems impossible that God would help me. My retrospect, however, shows me otherwise. It seems I need the mountaintop experiences for hope and what the old hymn calls “blessed assurance”; it seems I need the valley to learn. The question is, can I praise God in both circumstances? Unlike the mother in South Carolina, could I have lost my job, my car, and my family, and still say I’m truly blessed?

I am compelled to point out that Jacob, whom we call Israel from here on out, limps on his bad hip for the rest of his days. The recollection of his dark night is always there to remind him . . . but he is not a victim. He is victorious and becomes the father of nations. Maybe that’s why it’s easier to recount a valley experience than the ineffable joy of the mountaintop.

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The miracle of the loaves and fishes, like all miracles, ought to tell us something very important, very simple, and yet something we resist at a rational level. With God, nothing is impossible.

So I’m going to give you an assignment: As you go through your day today, and during the week, and maybe the month of August, in your joys and sorrows, and happy times and tribulations, ask yourself the Stephen minister question: “Where is God in this?”

Glory in the mountaintop experiences of a miraculous moment that seems impossible, like the loaves and fishes. Wrestle through the tough times like Jacob at Peniel, not abandoning the fight until you are blessed. Who knows, maybe it will become a habit.

We were never told that we would go through this life without pain and anguish, but we were told that we would not have to go through it alone. I have you. You have me. We both have a savior whose light we must never hide and who is with us always. Jesus, Beautiful Savior, glorious Lord. Emmanuel, God is with us, Blessed Redeemer, Living Word.

Where is God in all this? God is right here. And that’s really good news!

And now unto God the father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, be ascribed as is most justly due, all might, majesty, power, dominion, and Glory, both now and evermore. AMEN.

Another Tongue Lashing: The Weekly Scold

Sermon “Show Us The Father”

Henry G. Selby

All Saints’ Episcopal Church

Morristown, Tennessee

Easter V: May 22, 2011

“May the words of my mouth and the mediation of my heart be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer.” AMEN.

I am called Henry. I am a child of God, a member of Christ, and an inheritor of the Kingdom of Heaven. There are lots of Christians in the world who are troubled by today’s Gospel reading. At the heart of their troubles is this concept that Jesus the Christ, our Lord and our Savior says, “no one comes to the Father except through me”. I am reasonably certain that some of you sitting in the pews today find this concept troublesome.

And why? Well, because you personally know some good folks . . . from history, or maybe even members of your own family . . . or maybe even you yourself . . . whom you believe to be outside of that body that we know as followers of Jesus. But they’re good folks! They do good works! Anyone who has gone through confirmation class will have wrestled with the idea of a “good” Muslim or atheist or Jew or Hindu or Mormon or unbaptized baby winding up in the fires of hell or some odd theological cubbyhole called “limbo”, because he has never, quote, “accepted Jesus Christ as his personal Lord and Savior”. And the idea of a loving God relegating those (whom God purports to love) to hell is repulsive to our logic and natural sense of justice.

But brothers and sisters, right there in the red-letter edition of the Holy Bible we have Jesus saying “no one comes to the Father but through me.”

I am well aware of how some people deal with this issue. “Yes. Gandhi was a good man in the world’s eyes, but he didn’t know

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Jesus. He will not be in heaven.” This view is widely held here in east Tennessee.

Another group of people deal with the situation this way: “no matter what, everyone is going to heaven”. This concept is called “universalism” and would include the most heinous criminals in the annals of history. That doesn’t seem quite right either.

In both of these extremes, the adherents are reluctant to wrestle with the implications of Jesus’ words. My hope is that you here this morning will not be afraid to think deeply – very deeply – about this concept.

There are other ideas, of course: there’s reincarnation, there’s nothingness (following our earthly life), there’s becoming a part of the infinite at some atomic level and streaking about the cosmic ether at light speed.

Perhaps some of you are familiar with charismatic preacher by the name of Carlton Pearson who fell from grace at his megachurch in Tulsa, Oklahoma for suggesting that “Hell Sells” and that he would no longer sell salvation out of fear. “How can you love a God who is torturing your grandmother for eternity” he said. His congregation, numbering 6,000 people each week, booted him for suggesting that God is actually a loving God.

More recently we have the megachurch pastor Rob Bell, (10,000 member Mars Hill Church) an amazingly engaging preacher and mighty good theologian to boot, who has angered the fundamentalist powers with a similar message. If you haven’t heard of his book “Love Wins”, well . . . you haven’t lived. It’s a well-spent $11.98 plus shipping. And it’s available on Kindle. Anyway, he puts hell on trial. And guess what? Love Wins. Protestant American preachers are not organized well enough to have something like the Spanish Church

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did with its inquisitions, but when the book came out, Albert Mohler, President of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, immediately called an emergency meeting of influential pastors to suppress Bell’s heresies. It’s not working. Bell’s book remains on best-seller lists. “Love Wins” by Rob Bell. It’s a good read for people who think.

You already know that Anglican theology, our theology, is founded upon the three-legged pillars of reason, tradition, and scripture. When we consider the totality of Jesus’ teachings, it is relatively easy for us to accept “no one comes to the father but through me” at a level that has nothing to do with altar-calls or emotional conversions at the end of junior high church camp. And while we can play with ideas about coming to God through Jesus during our earthly life AND/OR after our earthly death, or whatever, the real essence of our Lord’s teaching here is encouragement to continually seek God.

The Great Commandment and the Great Commission, so effectively touted by evangelists of our current age, are critically important for you and me. We must love God and our neighbors as ourselves above all else. And, we must “go and teach all nations”. We must NOT, however, fall into the very dangerous trap of claiming how many souls we’ve saved. We don’t save them. We never have and never will. And here’s a warning for you: if you keep of tally of those you’ve saved, you’d better be accountable for all those you didn’t. Guess which list will be longer. It’s futile, it’s inappropriate, and quite frankly, it is absolutely toxic to an understanding of the real Good News.

So I’m making the case that this Gospel lesson is really about encouragement. Listen again to the exasperation in our Lord’s voice when Philip asks him to “show us the father!” “Philip! Have I been with you all this time and you’re asking me to show you the father?” Don’t you get it?

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Now I need to pause to explain this very clearly: if you think I’m going to make a pronouncement that Hitler and Osama are in Hell, Gandhi is in Heaven, and who knows about the Mormons, I am NOT. If you want to know what I believe, it’s this: I do believe that God loves us so much that God gave us free will: and this will allows us to accept or reject salvation at some mysterious (for lack of a better word) “time”. And I believe that, through Jesus, we can recognize salvation either in this life or the life to come. Again, not everyone will. But my belief is not the point at all. In fact, that is central to this portion of today’s reflection. It’s not my job to determine who is saved and who isn’t. My job is to carry the message of salvation . . . that I have come to recognize and believe . . . and leave the results of my industry up to God! Let me say that one more time: our job is to do our job. God is in charge of the results.

But how, you may ask, does one come to recognize and believe and carry the Good News of Salvation? Aren’t we just like Philip? I mean, we’ve been hanging around the church for YEARS, saying the prayers, singing the hymns, and making the barbecue . . . and can we say that we REALLY recognize and believe?

Whitsunday is right around the corner. (Whitsunday? Whitsuntide? OK, you modernists call it Pentecost!) Three more weeks of Eastertide and then we celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit and the bestowing of spiritual gifts on the community of believers. Spiritual Gifts are not talents or skills: they are God-Given gifts that are exclusively given to build up God’s church, and they are given to you and me. Remember when I mentioned our job? Well, our job is to use those gifts. It is in using the gifts that we may come to see God . . . and ultimately realize the hope of our calling. It’s all about call and response. Vocation.

Now next fall we will be offering a series of classes in Spiritual Gifts. I hope it will be well attended. But today, Rally Day, is the perfect

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time for you to reflect not only on the talents and skills that you can bring into service, but on the particular and amazing gifts that have been given to you by the Holy Spirit. I urge you in the strongest possible way to open your hearts and minds this morning . . . during this Divine Service . . . for direction. And when we go forth rejoicing in the power of the spirit and head into the parish hall, start putting

your name on one or more of the ministry opportunities before you. Did you read in Saints Alive that Pastor Scherry has tallied up more than 80 ministries offered by our parish? This is astounding!

If you’re still one of those people who need religion to frighten you a little bit, consider this: we all have gifts. And one day we’re going to have to account for them. But please don’t let guilt be your motive. It is my belief that fear of Hell is the precisely the wrong way to approach Union with our Creator. The motive is gratitude. Pure and simple gratitude. I fail at keeping the law. I ignore the warnings of the prophets. I have no trouble recognizing my own failures. There is no hope for me . . . until . . . at the foot of the cross or at the barbecue pit or singing a hymn, or straightening out prayerbooks in the pews or washing dishes I say: “My Lord and My God!”. And I say, thank you God. You have been made known to me through your Son.

Can we say that we REALLY recognize and believe? Well, I sure hope so. Let me share this with you, brothers and sisters. Just this week I was standing out here in the parking lot late in the evening having a conversation with an engaging and thoughtful man. He’s not a newcomer to our parish, but like me, has only been here for a few years. Our topic had drifted to the behaviors of various worshipping communities. In the course of our conversation he referenced our sign out front and he made this observation. “You know that sign that says “all are welcome”? This church really means it.” All are welcome. This church really means it.

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If we read the scriptures, there is no doubt of a need for a Savior. And when we realize that we are saved, there is no doubt that we will queue up for grateful service in our Savior’s name.

I am called Henry. I am a child of God, a member of Christ, and an inheritor of the Kingdom of heaven. And so are you. And that’s really good news.

And now unto God the father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, be ascribed as is most justly due, all might, majesty, power, dominion, and Glory, both now and evermore. AMEN.

Ike Arumba!

There's no such thing as a school year winding down! And this year (and it is all my fault of course) we have multiple special events EVERY DAY in addition to classes leading up to commencement. Today, for example, I will cook lunch for the entire school and then have Reddi-Wip Pies heaved at me to raise money for tornado victims in a nearby county while the afternoon Field Day occurs. Then Kinzman and I are off for two nights at the scout Spring camporee. (for which I have packed precisely NOTHING so far). Oh well. Could be worse. Could be raining. Oh, wait. It is raining.

Research, by Kinzman

10 minute speech (deliver like a conversation!)

Students at good schools are known as scholars. Scholars have to know how to do research and how to write the results of their research. These writings are known as “research papers.”

At All Saints’ Episcopal School students begin learning how to research topics in Kindergarten. It is there that five year olds learn about famous persons (such as Amelia Earhart or Abraham Lincoln), write a report, and then deliver the report to the class. It’s great to see these little scholars dress up like the subject of their reports! Their parents are there, cameras are clicking, and everyone has a wonderful time.

By the time students are in the middle school, they are writing formal research papers complete with rough drafts, title pages and references. No dressing up. No parents. No clicking cameras. No one has a wonderful time. Wait! Strike that! I meant to say, “everyone just loves writing research papers!”

This year, for example, I wrote a paper for my language arts class on Galileo. Last year, in the same class, I researched Daniel Boone. Next year I plan to write about Bart Simpson. Just

kidding! I’m really going to write it about . . . ummm. . . I don’t know yet.

I had to write my first real research paper when I was in fifth grade. It was for art class. The teacher makes all of her students write about a famous artist. I had no idea what to do! Then I thought: what about those Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? They had the names of artists, right? Maybe I could write about one of them.

Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, and Donatello were all artists of the Renaissance. They were all Italians. And they were also the names of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles! The Renaissance, as you scholars will immediately recall, spanned a time period from roughly the 14^th to the 17^th centuries. The word itself means “re-birth”. There’s actually an English word, “Renascence” that means the same thing, but no one ever uses it.

So I began to write. In fifth grade I wrote about the sculptor Donatello who really understood perspective. In sixth grade it was

Raphael, who served as the chief architect of St. Peter’s in the Vatican. This year it was Michelangelo whose sculptures of David and Moses in Chains, and whose painting of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel are among the greatest artistic works ever known. And next year I actually DO know that I will write about Leonardo da Vinci. By the time that paper is finished maybe I will know what everyone thinks is so special about the Mona Lisa!

A rat. A rat Sensei. A rat sensei who names four teenage boys who have become turtles with special skills . . . after Renaissance Artists! What could be more ridiculous? And yet, my interest in these cartoon characters eventually became the subject for some serious research. I actually became (yes, I know this is hard for some people to believe) intellectually curious about them as I did my research.

That’s a funny thing about research. Most teachers will tell you to begin researching something you already know a little about; something you’re curious about. Something you might want to learn even more about. Sometimes that works. Sometimes it doesn’t. But when it DOES work, it becomes less like work and

more like, well, I won’t say “play”, but I will say it’s a lot less like work! Looking up something on the internet or in an encyclopedia or from a library book doesn’t sound like fun, but the truth is, it can be fun if the subject is truly interesting.

A kindergarten student wonders why the sky is blue. A first grader makes a leaf project. Another young child wonders how the Lost Sea was formed.

A middle school student groans when a research paper is assigned.

At some point, it seems, the natural curiosity of most younger children goes away. It’s replaced by trying to avoid finding out about new things. I wonder why this happens. TV? Video Games? Sports? Too much homework? Mean teachers? Lazy students? Hmmmm.

Research, very simply, is a search for knowledge. Who would try to avoid that? And yet it is true that many (maybe even MOST) middle school students try to AVOID finding out about new things. OK, maybe that’s not quite accurate. Finding out a new “cheat” for a game, getting to a new level, or figuring out how to avoid “Noob Tubers” in Call of Duty might require finding out

new things. But finding out academic questions is definitely something to be avoided or even hated. This seems wrong to me. And yet, when one of these papers is assigned to me, it feels SO RIGHT!

In the news right now we are learning that the hole in the ozone layer above the arctic circle is the largest it has ever been. Dangerous levels of ultraviolet radiation are now entering our atmosphere through this hole. At the same time, people who claim to believe in a loving God are busy killing each other in the name of that God. In parts of the world there are famines that have been going on for years. Right here in southern Appalachia there are people who go to bed hungry each night due to a lack of food. The vast water supply underneath our western and Midwestern farmlands is dangerously low. Fossil fuels are becoming harder to get, and when we do get them, they pollute our air and produce greenhouse gasses. Cancer, birth defects, deadly viruses, and other horrible health issues are everywhere. There are a lot of problems in the world. How will they be solved? The answer is that somebody has to do research and come up with solutions. And who is going to do that? Well, one thing is for sure: it’s not going to be people who avoid learning new things.

As just one example, human beings have been using the power of sun since ancient times, and yet only a tiny amount of the energy consumed by the world today is solar power. Why? And why are there wars? And why are people starving when there’s enough food to feed everyone on earth?

And why is the sky blue?

Scholars . . . people in schools who look for knowledge . . . ought to love the question “why”. It should be the fuel that they need to dig down deep into the problems of our day so that tomorrow will be a better day for everyone. And if they solve the problems (either by themselves or with a team effort) they should share their knowledge with the rest of the world. They should write it down. They should write research papers.

I can’t believe I’m saying this! But you know it’s true and I know it’s true. Schools give us the tools that we need now . . . and that we’re REALLY going to need later in life.

Michelangelo said this while slicing a pizza, “Yes, friends, the new tubo ginsu. Wa-hoo! It dices, it slices, and it makes French fries!” That was the turtle. He was describing the invention of a new knife. The artist Michelangelo said in his old age: I am still learning. Both of these have something to tell us. Invention, curiosity, and research are all related. We should share what we learn..

It’s true. I do not look forward to checking out more books from the library, to typing a rough draft, to figuring out how to write a bibliography from the internet with two or more authors, or constantly checking “word count” to see if I’ve reached the magic number of 700 words for my paper. But on the other hand, I do want to make the world a better place. And if I have to learn the correct way to do research, then so be it. Besides, like I said before, maybe I’ll discover why the Mona Lisa is considered to be such a famous painting!

I thank you for your attention. Now let’s get busy. We’ve got a lot of work to do. Somebody out there in the audience needs to focus on that hole in the ozone. (1,433 words)