“Form Follows Function”
Philippians 2:5-11
a sermon preached March 28, 2010

One of my favorite characters in a novel or movie is Howard Roark of Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead. Ironically it was a best-selling novel in 1943. It is ironic not only because it was rejected by 12 publishers but because it is about a character and a subject that flies in the face of everything common and therefore easy. We do not usually like to purchase those things that call us common or point out our flaws so distinctly. But in this bestseller, society is nothing more than herded cattle. The story’s protagonist however, is anything but cattle; he is the archetypal cowboy—though in fact an architect by trade. Howard Roark may seem individualistic or even a loner but being an individual is not his quest. His quest makes him stand out from the crowd. His vision is not only artistic but acutely personal and as such it touches every facet of his brilliant life. He is not afraid to be alone or different or even shunned and misunderstood. But he is concerned about being wrong, or rather, about doing it right. He is certain of his quest and will fulfill it, however modestly society dictates, without wavering.

Howard Roark is an architect who will not recreate things of the past or design so-called modern buildings that are adorned with ancient facades so as to make them acceptable to the public and to critics. He refuses to give the public what it wants and instead gives them what they need, through they do not yet know and may never understand their need. His designs are crisp and true and completely new; they stand out like the drawings of an adult compared to a child. He has no equal and there are few who understand him.

Ayn Rand may indeed have been writing about Frank Lloyd Wright or she may have been writing about an idealized, even romantic notion of what man could be. I like to think she was talking about the model man who had broken free of tradition, the shape of what the human spirit could look like if it became what it was meant to be instead of what it had always been.

With that thought it mind, I would like to shift gears and leave Howard Roark behind us. He is not perfect; far from it. And he would not have us follow him or try to be like him if he even existed. But there was a maxim within the story that made him who he was, that made his building what they were. If we pull that maxim (the title of this sermon) into view, we see another character emerge—one we can and should follow and one who said, “Follow me.” His life was one that stood out, was individual, unparalleled, new, decisive, and passionate. More movies have been made about him, more books written, and more buildings designed than for any other being. Justly so.

What makes Jesus Christ so unusual is not that he is God or man or even God and man. It is not his teachings of themselves or his manner of life or his times. The beauty and the allure of Jesus for me is that the the form of his life followed its function so purely. Yes, Jesus was God and he could have called down 10,000 or so angels to straighten out the human mess by scorching the earth with the fire of divine wrath. But his function on earth urged him to give up his divinity for awhile, and take the form of a servant instead of a god. He could easily have taken the powerful form of any Roman deity and had followers in the millions. But his function was not to mimic the old ways; his task was to lead us into new life. Because his function was so well defined, the form of his life followed.

Jesus did not come to earth to be a good teacher, a moral guide, a lesser deity in a Trinitarian panoply, a political revolutionary, or any of the many molds men have tried to make him fit. Jesus came to be a servant of the Almighty God, one who would lead us back into the company of his Father God. And so, Jesus did not found schools, though tens of thousands of schools have been dedicated to him. He did not publish a rule book though countless books about his teachings have been written. He did not aspire to be God but emptied himself of divinity, though he has been exalted and given a name that will bring every knee low and cause every tongue to confess that he is God.

This is overlooked because of our English translations. The word kurios used here in verse 11 and elsewhere in the New Testament is the same word used in the Old Testament when the penmen were endeavoring to be reverent. In the Septuagint, that great Greek copy of the Old Testament scriptures that was the Apostles’ Bible and even Jesus’, they would not write out the name of God, Yahweh. Instead, they wrote the Greek word Kurios or Kyrios, a word that translates as “Lord” but means “one that exercises supernatural authority over mankind.” Over 5,700 times Kurios is substituted for Yahweh (or more accurately for YHWH). This practice is carried over into the New Testament and is seen here juxtaposed: the idea of Jesus emptying himself of divinity in verse seven and being extolled as God in verse 11. But Jesus did not come here to be a powerful and compelling god.

Jesus could also have set up a new human form of government and demanded  civil obedience but he did not because it was not his function, though some like to think that there is at least one form of government that is supposed to be godly. Those whose lives are wrapped up in this pretense of a Christian government are lost to an exercise of futility. One may try to live right and govern rightly but life is not ultimately about either morality of government. Life is about following Jesus. But where? The “where to” is the function that the form of Jesus’ life took shape around.

Everything about Jesus’ life was about showing us the Father, showing us the way to his Father, and finally making a way for us to God our Father. The form of Jesus’ life followed this function with each step of his short life. Were it not so, we would have a world government today that follows Jesus. This is what the devil tempted him with in the wilderness when he said he could have all the kingdoms of the world if he would just bow to Satan’s will instead of his Father’s plan to save us. But Jesus’ life had a function, a purpose, and he would follow it no matter what form that function dictated. Were it not so, we would have a religion of power that serves his needs instead of a way of life that serves the needs of others. This is what the devil tempted him with when he said make these stones become bread. But the form of Jesus’ life shows the way that leads to the Father and not to self. Were it not so, we would have an unreal, Utopian sort of world where nothing can hurt us and nothing ever goes wrong. This is what the devil tempted Jesus with when he said throw yourself off the pinnacle of the Temple and God will have his angels bear you up. But the purpose of Jesus was not to test his Father’s love but to show us that love through a form of life that loved us most completely.

And so Jesus came to die because form follows function in the life of the Savior. Jesus’ life and thus, his death follow the form of God’s love. For no other reason did he die. He did not die for the mob wish. He did not die for the Pax Romana. He did not die to shame us for killing a good man or a moral guide. He died because of a Father’s love. He died because it was his purpose that in dying death would die. And so, for the believer, death is not dying; it is to live forever in the fellowship and love of God.

Have this mind, this attitude, this function in your own life.

“No Mumblin’ Word”
Hebrews 1:1-4, 2:5-12
October 4, 2009

Since I was a young man, I have had difficulty hearing out of  my right ear. When I get hearing tests, they tell me nothing is wrong but still, if my right ear is toward you and you don’t speak loudly enough, chances are, I am not going to hear you. And it is irritating. Not just to me but I’m sure it is annoying to those who are trying to speak to me.

Very often this is the way it goes in the Ryman home: Honey, would you like me to pack you a lunch? Then a moment later: Well, would you like me to pack you a lunch? To which I get the reply: I told you I wanted a Lean Cuisine and a yogurt. And my continuing reply is, “If you want me to hear you, you have to speak up.” To make matters worse, sometimes her response is further concealed by a hair blower. All the more reason to speak up!

Recently, suspecting a lack of attention on my part, I have asked the question and then looked in to see and hear a response. The times I have looked, it is barely audible. In fact, it is sometimes mumbled. So let me go on record to say, “Honey, I am still going to fix you a lunch even if you mumble. But if you really want to be heard, you cannot mumble.”

Now sometimes, if you really want to be heard, you must not say a thing, as in the old spiritual:

They led Him to Pilate’s bar
Not a word, not a word, not a word, not a word
They led Him to Pilate’s bar
Not a word, not a word, not a word, not a word
They led Him to Pilate’s bar
But He never said a mumblin’ word
Not a word, not a word, not a word, not a word

Jesus allowed himself for our sake to be led as a sheep to the slaughter. But he also spoke the truth before Pilate. When asked who he was, he directly answered.

In the history of salvation, God’s people have very often him speak under the cover of a less anachronistic noise than a hair dryer. God spoke in ages past through prophets. Those prophets often seem to mumble. Ezekiel is especially “mumbly.”

As I looked, behold, a stormy wind came out of the north, and a great cloud, with brightness around it, and fire flashing forth continually, and in the midst of the fire, as it were gleaming metal. And from the midst of it came the likeness of four living creatures. And this was their appearance: they had a human likeness, but each had four faces, and each of them had four wings. Their legs were straight, and the soles of their feet were like the sole of a calf’s foot. And they sparkled like burnished bronze. Under their wings on their four sides they had human hands. (Ezekiel 1:4-8b)

I’ll stop there because I’m sure you get the point. You have to really concentrate—even study—to understand what Ezekiel is saying. Ezekiel is not alone amongst the prophets or for that matter, the Apostles. John was particularly challenging, at least if you are reading Revelation. Sadly, Luther found it such a puzzle that he advocated tossing it out of the canon of scripture. He said, “Christ is neither taught nor known in it.” Calvin thought it should be canonized but in my complete set of Calvin’s Commentaries, the last book upon which he comments is Jude. God has spoken to us through prophets and Apostles and through pastors and teachers but nowhere does he speak so clearly as when Jesus spoke.

The words of Jesus are not mumbled. Even when his disciples had difficulty  comprehending him, he stopped to make matters clear. When Jesus spoke in parables, those men and women who hung on his every word were often confused. So he would lovingly chastise them, When are you going to understand? Then he would spell it all out. The parable of the sower and the seed is a good example.

And when a great crowd was gathering and people from town after town came to him, he said in a parable: “A sower went out to sow his seed. And as he sowed, some fell along the path and was trampled underfoot, and the birds of the air devoured it. And some fell on the rock, and as it grew up, it withered away, because it had no moisture. And some fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up with it and choked it. And some fell into good soil and grew and yielded a hundredfold.” As he said these things, he called out, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.” And when his disciples asked him what this parable meant, he said, “To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of God, but for others they are in parables, so that ‘seeing they may not see, and hearing they may not understand.’ Now the parable is this: The seed is the word of God. The ones along the path are those who have heard; then the devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts, so that they may not believe and be saved. And the ones on the rock are those who, when they hear the word, receive it with joy. But these have no root; they believe for a while, and in time of testing fall away. And as for what fell among the thorns, they are those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature. As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience. (Luke 8:4-15)

So why speak in the parable at all? Why not just jump to the explanation? Have you noticed that in this parable, if you were asked to tell the story, you would tell about how the seed fell on the different types of ground and may not even tell about the explanation? And if you give the explanation, you have to think about the parable first. This is similar to attending college. Every professor is going to give you books to read. Then the next class, they will tell you what you read. Why not just skip to the lecture? Because it is the combination of reading and listening that makes the subject clearer.

Nevertheless, professors find it still isn’t clear to some of their students. I am just such a case because professors often mumble. I read the assignments and go to the lectures and end up saying, “If you want me to hear you, you have to speak up.” Of course, what I mean is, Tell me in way that makes sense in my world. I had one professor, who after explaining some theological conundrum, just to be sure his slower students understood, would recall a scene from The Simpsons cartoon the night before, and say, “I guess it’s sort of like that.” It is troubling how many times I was then found to go, “Ohhhhh!”

In ages past God spoke through the prophets and people were puzzled. When Jesus, who is the very image of God, came and taught the multitudes that he was the “radiance of the glory of God,” some people were disturbed; they just could not or would not hear it. But many people were finally saying, “Ohhhhh.” When God spoke through his Son, the mumbling of former times ceased.

For those who are disturbed because you think the Old Testament makes perfect sense and never was a mumblin’ word spoken there, let me say two things. One, you better understand the Old Testament because of Jesus. How can you fully understand some of the Psalms (just to mention one book) without Jesus? How incompletely the ancients understand Psalm 22—“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Psalm 22:1) “They have pierced my hands and feet—I can count all my bones—they stare and gloat over me; they divide my garments among them, and for my clothing they cast lots.” (Psalm 22:16b-18) or perhaps the question is better stated, how else can one more fully understand these verses than with Jesus’ explanation of the prophetic parable?

The other thing, if you think the Old Testament doesn’t sometimes mumble, is that when you decide Ezekiel’s visions make perfect sense, get back to me about whether he was “mumbling” or not. In Jesus, however, we have no mumblin’ word. He is clear. So why not just begin with him and be done with it? The prophets are the homework that make the lecture called Jesus clear. For example, the Old Testament slowly develops the idea of a need for a gracious Messiah. Even by Jesus’ time, the Jews were simply looking for someone anointed of God to deliver them from their Roman oppressors. But in Jesus, people began to understand that it was not the Roman Empire that oppressed them, it was their sin. It takes awhile for the truth to become clear—especially when you have been wandering in your darkness. The truth was always there but it was not spoken clearly enough or with an illustration sufficient to make one exclaim, “Ohhhhh!”

This illustration may be a bit off for moderns because of digital photography but the photographic darkroom is a good example of what the writer of Hebrews is saying. I used to sometimes find rolls of film I had forgotten to develop. Sometimes a month or so after shooting a roll, I would develop it and make prints. Very often, the reverse image of the negative only made what I had shot even less clear. When I enlarged the image in the red safe-light of the darkroom, I still might not perceive what image I had shot. Then I put the white photo-paper into the developing tray and slowly sloshed the liquid over and under the paper. Gradually a black and white image would begin to appear and awareness would steal over me.

What I had been seeing very small and backwards in the dark was now large and clear in the light. If I had set up the shot correctly and exposed the film just right, I could remember the day, who I was with, and even the emotions behind why I shot the photograph. If I shot, developed, and printed well, others also could see my impression of that moment in time.

The four-color process of printing is another good example—but one that computer printers have already made obsolete. Yet I hope I never forget the wonder of printing a photograph with four colors of ink for my first time. It was a photograph of the head of a lion with his great mane. I had to print it with cyan, magenta, yellow, and black inks. To do it right, you have to first imprint the yellow ink before the blue and red and finally black inks. Thin yellow squiggles on white paper are difficult to make out; sometimes they are almost invisible to the naked eye. Then the blue and red inks are added one color at a time and the plain white paper miraculously transforms into something that looks almost real. Black is then printed and the contrasting tone makes it pop! I was giddy. I could not get over the marvel of a process that made four different negatives and printing plates—that by themselves just looked like black-and-white illustrations—come to life. The process is important if one is to marvel at the result.

From the beginning, God made us for himself and to enjoy his company. He also created us to share his glory. He simply gave it to us in the garden but we did not comprehend and asked by eating forbidden fruit, Is this all there is? Then he spoke to us in burning bushes and whirlwinds and pillars of fire. These colorful expressions but not always easy to understand.

Eventually he communicated through prophets—sometimes condemning and other times a bit perplexing. But in these last days, God has articulated himself to us through a Son. God has made perfectly clear what millennia of religious teachings have obscured. The writer of Hebrews uses an excellent word to express this with clarity. Verse three of our lesson says that Jesus is the “exact imprint” of God’s nature. The Greek word used in Hebrews 1:3 is charakter, and is used to explain things like stamping out a copy of a coin or could be used, I suppose, in the darkroom as well. Printing presses can also reproduce perfect copies. But in Jesus, the die is broken. Indeed, this metaphor fails to do him justice even if it helps us understand who he is.

My prints were not the people I photographed. The sheets of paper were not litters of lions. But Jesus is a striking impression of God. In that man from Nazareth of Galilee was the very nature of both God and man. The essence of the Father was struck into Jesus. If that were not the case, then his life and death were in vain.

Sermon audio and PDF

James 5:13-20
September 27, 2009

Augustine, the fourth century Bishop of the Church in Hippo, Africa (modern-day Annaba, Algeria), said, “Thou hast made us for Thyself, and our heart is restless till it rest in Thee.” This seems related to the much older rabbinical teaching that a man cannot be healed until he deals with his sins. The Jews had a basic tenet that we learned about in our midweek Bible classes earlier this year. Yes, I am about to quiz my students once again. This is not a rhetorical question; I am somewhat eager to know if things I have taught by saying over and over again and giving examples from scripture and life actually soak in. So if you know the answer, say it out loud. Here we go…

What is the name of the code wherein it is stated that if you do good, you will receive blessing and if you do evil, you will receive curse? If you need a hint, recall that I referred to it as more of a principle than a formula.

Well, I’d hoped more had remembered but that’s the way it goes in seminary classes too. The professors always hope more students know the answers than it turns out do, so you are, I suppose, in excellent company. It doesn’t only happen in Church Bible classes that students don’t recall the answers at quiz time.

The answer to my question is the Deuteronomistic code or more precisely, if you listened closely, the Deuteronomistic principle. This principle states that God will bless those who do good and curse those who do evil. The early paragraphs of Deuteronomy 28 spell it out and give examples. Job and other places in scripture give exceptions to the rule. But it is a rule nonetheless. God gets to break his own rules, if there is a greater purpose in doing so. For example, Job’s religious actions caused him to think, at least somewhat, that his religion was the source of his blessing. This is always a danger. God however—though he was proud of Job’s devotion—wanted more than mere religion for Job. So he broke his “rule” to get to the “principle” within the rule. Religion is supposed to bring us face-to-face with God, not simply make us religious or even better people. This principle within the Deuteronomistic “rule” is at the heart of today’s New Testament and Gospel lessons and the object of my sermon.

We heard the disciples in Mark 9:38-50 tell Jesus that they were ostracizing people who didn’t follow them. They were not at all concerned about people following Jesus or even teaching Jesus. Their concern was that some fellow they had encountered was casting out demons and doing so in Jesus’ name—but wasn’t following them! (Mar 9:38) This is what happens immediately in what is only religion. Do it our way or hit the highway. The disciples had to be corrected right away. This isn’t to say that there is not sometimes a heresy in the ranks that must be addressed, but if somebody is a Baptist or a Lutheran instead of a Quaker, well, “the one who is not against us is for us.” (Mar 9:40)

Then Jesus gets to the core of their problem—and it was the problem they had always displayed. They wanted to be the leaders, the bosses, or what amounts to demigods or demons or the ubermensch (supermen) of others. They wanted to call the shots and in so doing, they were basically stating a new code—a demonic one—instead of the Deuteronomistic principle. Do it my way or be cursed. Sound familiar?

But even in religion, people who perfectly act out the religious code still get sick and die. This is because “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Rom 2:12) And there you see that ultimately, the code works. You do evil, you get cursed; you sin, you die. But what about the sickness that precedes dying?

The week before I went on vacation, I worked over 70 hours for this church. That is fairly religious, wouldn’t you say? Then I went on vacation and got sick. Where’s the fairness in that?! Job would cry out. I did what you wanted me to do and I get cursed. Let me be honest with you: sometimes I feel just like Job did. Why doesn’t our church grow more numerically? I’ve been faithful. I’ve taught people the word. I am faithful even when I don’t feel like doing this anymore. Even in the face of adversity and supposed defeat, I persevere. So how come there are not more results? Where is the blessing?

Of course, I am making an example and can name for you blessing after blessing that has happened here in these past ten years of service to you and our Lord. But I can just as surely name the defeats. I wonder; are they defeats or should we call them curses? And if they are curses, how do we deal with them before God and his Church?

The Jews have long believed three things that are based on the aforementioned Deuteronomistic code. One, sickness is caused by sin in a person’s life. That is why Job’s so-called comforters or friends insisted Job had sinned. They believed the age-old teaching that if you’re sick, and your loved ones died early, and your crops fail, and your cattle gets stolen, then you must have done something wrong—seriously wrong. And they believed this religiously. Job, on the other hand, believed just as religiously that he had done nothing wrong and therefore, God was in the wrong. He did not say this out loud; but I imagine he was thinking it. Religion always thinks that way. It is faith that dares to think differently. And so my favorite prophet, Habakkuk, says—and I paraphrase like a good Midwesterner: Though apple trees do not blossom and there isn’t a single red strawberry to be found, though the corn rots in the husk and the fields produce no wheat, though the cattle die in the fields and the milking barns dry up…I will shout the triumph of Yahweh, I will jump for joy in the God of my salvation. Lord Yahweh is my strength—not the fertile fields. It is he alone who makes me leap like a buck in the mountain passes. I walk with my God in the heights when all around me are sinking in depression. (Hab 3:17-19) That is faith! But for the moment, let us get back to religion.

The first tenet of the ancient rabbinical teaching, based on the Deuteronomistic code, was that if you seemed cursed you must have sinned. Second, if you wanted to be healed, you need to do two things. The first action was to confess your sins. This is where the New Testament lesson really comes into play. James, of course, knew the teachings of the rabbis. He had himself become a teacher. He was a student of Rabbi Jesus and would be teaching his lessons to his own disciples. So here we see this second tenet come into James’ thoughts. Call on the elders or other righteous people and confess your sins. (Jam 5:16) That is the first half of the teaching. Before we go on with the second half, I want to stress the first half just a bit.

Some would throw out this notion of confession with the Roman Catholic bath water. But to do so is to throw out the baby (Judaism) as well. And to do that is to throw out Jesus. Of course, that would be nothing new to religion. Religious types are always trying to get rid of Jesus. Jesus knew that the casting out of some demons required prayer and others required fasting as well as prayer. (Mat 17:21; Mar 9:29) Here we see that at least persistent sickness may require not only prayer but also confession. James seems to link suffering and sickness with prayer and confession. Now, I am not advocating that we open up a confessional booth in one of the unused Sunday school rooms, or that you go running to an elder in the Meeting every time you come down with a cold. Still, in early Methodism, the Wesley brothers met with the movement a few times each week to, amongst other things, “confess their faults to one another.” (Lee, James Wideman; Luccock, Naphtali; Dixon, James Main, The Illustrated History of Methodism, 85) And no—before you ask it—I am also not advocating confession of sins in Monthly Meetings or Yearly Meetings…though it may do a great deal of good.

So what am I saying? For one, that faith is serious business—much more than our religion typically allows. And for another, that there are sometimes reasons for our illnesses that transcend sneezes, coughs, and lack of rest. Sometimes our illnesses are not just the cold and flu or even cancer and heart disease. At times our illnesses may not even be physical at all. They may be mental or even spiritual. Paul teaches that the whole being is to be made holy, the whole person including spirit, soul, and body. (1Th 5:23) Sometimes our sicknesses are not just physical and perhaps those are the very ones that require fasting and confession along with prayer. Actually, I am not simply suggesting the possibility; I am telling you a spiritual truth. Even more, I will insist to you that these afflictions are ordained of God.

God will stop at nothing to get you out of your religion and back into a right relationship with him. Job’s story (and there are others) proves that is true. So if you are sick or find yourself someday getting ill, in fact sicker and sicker, you may do well to do a little self-diagnosis. Ask yourself, Why am I sick? Why am I tormented? Why does everything I touch fall apart? If you do suspect your actions may be at the root of your illness, you should do this self-diagnostic sooner rather than later because what you have may be contagious. Your illness may spread to your children, your spouse, your friends, and even your church. We affect those around us—no matter how self-righteous we try to make ourselves. Just ask Job’s family if that isn’t the case. Job was not restored to God, nor were his family and fortune restored, until he confessed his sins before both God and man. Notice who was present when he said he was in the wrong. Along with Yahweh were Eliphaz, Bildad, Zophar, and Elihu. Sometimes, for serious spiritual defects to be dealt with, confession must also be made to men and women—particularly those whom we have sinned against. There is no other way to deal with it. You cannot get around it with religion or rationalization. Truth and confession are necessary to drive away some evil spirits.

But the third tenet of James’, Jesus’, and the rabbis’ teaching is another that you cannot get around. You must not only deal with yourself in admission of sin and with others in confession of it, you must also deal with God if you are going to deal with sin-sickness. And so, you must pray. You cannot stop with what you can do; you must ultimately rely on what God can do. This is done in the prayer closet. When you have admitted that something is wrong and that you may be or are the cause, and have confessed your participation or even collusion, then pray. Perhaps pray with fasting just to err on the side of serious faith. But prayer is not just for the sinner. Indeed, it seems especially suited to those who are righteous and seasoned in the faith. Pray, fast, and believe in the power of God that mysteriously acts through your prayers. Tennyson wrote, “Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer/Than this world dreams of.” (Van Dyke, Henry Jackson, An Introduction to the Poems of Tennyson, 89) James knew this and reminds us of Elijah’s powerful supplications.

The Lord caused it to rain after a drought that lasted three and a half years. But he did so only after the prophet had prayed. Is there a condition you know of that affects many, a spiritual dryness or even a drought? Deal with it! Do some soul-searching. Confess what God reveals—at least to him and in very serious cases to the ones you have wronged and to those who are able to help you recover. And if you are aware of someone else’s sickness, pray for all God is worth. Your prayers may restore that person to a right relationship to God and his Church, just as Elijah’s prayer restored the rain. Elijah’s prayer restored the balance of nature. Your prayers may restore a soul to the Kingdom.

Sermon audio and PDF

Kelly has been missing for 6 months. Her story is told in the above video. More details are in this WRAL archive.

I will be leading a prayer vigil for Kelly in Butner, NC at the Central Avenue Butner Park this coming Saturday at 7pm. Please join us. If you cannot be at the vigil in person, please be with the family in the Spirit.

If you have information on the whereabouts of Kelly Currin Morris or information on the arson,
please contact the Granville County Sheriff’s Department @ 919-693-3213 or Granville County Crime Stoppers at 919-693-3100.

In the meanwhile, please keep Kelly and her family in your prayers.

I’d really like to find these books.

When I was in elementary school, I had a set (I think there were eight books) of hardcover, children’s Bible stories. The covers were different, bright colors (lime green, bright yellow, hot pink, et cetera) As I recall, the illustrations were Gustave Doré prints (perhaps in duotone). One print I remember especially well was of the flood. The one in this post may be that print but it’s been about 45 years so it’s difficult to be certain. I am however, certain of the brightly colored covers.

Those volumes had a profound effect on my life.

I have not been successful at finding these books by searching the internet. If you have any idea what books I am speaking of, I’d love to hear from you.

The artwork on the cover of our church bulletin yesterday was “The Star of Bethlehem,” by Edward Burne-Jones (1833-1898), perhaps my favorite of the Pre-Raphaelites. I meant to put a note in the bulletin as to who painted it but I always forget something.

As much as I love Burne-Jones’ paintings and stained glass, it’s hard to beat the Pre-Raphaelite brotherhood founder, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, for his overall bent for things beautiful. I enjoy one statement he wrote as much as his paintings: “The worst moment for the atheist is when he is really thankful and has nobody to thank.”

Then again, it’s tough to beat Rossetti’s teacher, Ford Maddox Brown. Or Holmon Hunt. Or John Everett Millais. …who were (the four of them) together the founders of that grand artistic movement—though Rossetti was its driving force.

I’ve been re-reading some George Herbert lately, as a result of a discussion with my theology professor, Ron Selleck. I started reading Rossetti a bit this morning. Though his work requires more reading (fine reading though) to get beyond his other fascinations with life, when he gets there, it’s worth it.

The Choice – II.

Watch thou and fear; to-morrow thou shalt die.
Or art thou sure thou shalt have time for death?
Is not the day which God’s word promiseth
To come man knows not when? In yonder sky
Now while we speak, the sun speeds forth: can I
Or thou assure him of his goal? God’s breath
Even at this moment haply quickeneth
The air to a flame; till spirits, always nigh
Though screen’d and hid, shall walk the daylight here.
And dost thou prate of all that man shall do?
Canst thou, who hast but plagues, presume to be
Glad in his gladness that comes after thee?
Will his strength slay thy worm in Hell? Go to:
Cover thy countenance, and watch, and fear.

St. Luke the Painter

Give honour unto Luke Evangelist;
For he it was (the aged legends say)
Who first taught Art to fold her hands and pray.
Scarcely at once she dared to rend the mist
Of devious symbols: but soon having wist
How sky-breadth and field-silence and this day
Are symbols also in some deeper way,
She looked through these to God and was God’s priest.

And if, past noon, her toil began to irk,
And she sought talismans, and turned in vain
To soulless self-reflections of man’s skill,
Yet now, in this the twilight, she might still
Kneel in the latter grass to pray again,
Ere the night cometh and she may not work.

My Premium Calfskin English Standard Version Study Bible was waiting for me on the front porch yesterday. I opened the box, took off the shrink wrap, and opened it upon the table…and it laid there without closing up. It was almost like it was already broken in from months of use.

The bindery is much better than the ESV Greek/English Interlinear Bible. Some of the pages were dogearred when the books were cut and so they stick out now. This SB looks to have been carefully produced. The color maps and illustrations are well-printed and clear. The abundance of maps throughout the text (as well as in the back) should be very helpful. The amount of articles—beyond the study notes—is impressive. I look forward to using it with Susan in our devotions over the next 14 months.

My calfskin ESV-SB won’t ship until next week. Besides using it in my devotional reading with Susan, I look forward to reading all of the text and notes next year as my church reads through the Bible chronologically. We’ll see how good the binding is that way.

My old, leather NASB that I purchased from the local American Bible Society represntative back in 1974 or ‘75 and used “religiously” for years has held up well but some (evidently favorite) pages from John and Acts are loose and the binding between John and Revelation detached years ago. If it had remained my primary Bible (which none do for long) it may have crumbled by now. Of all the Bibles I’ve had over the years, I used that NASB longer than any. Maybe this ESV-SB will now take the lead. I doubt it though since I really like my ESV Journalling Bible.

Eli was the great-grandson of Aaron (Exo 6:23-24 shows Eli’s father, Elkanah, in the Aaronic line) and so, being in that priestly lineage, we find him as both Judge and Priest at Shiloh when he is first mentioned in Scripture (1Sa 1:3). This introduction is one of an old priest, since his sons, Hophni and Phinehas, had taken over the priestly duties and since 1Sa 2:22 states “Eli was very old.” Still, he really must have been “very old” by the time Elkanah and Hannah have had six children. This would have been perhaps a decade following this introduction. Perhaps, since we find out in 1Sa 2:12 that Eli’s sons were “worthless men” that perhaps they had forced Eli into a diminished role while he was old but not too old to perform his ministry. Perhaps doing what duties might still be allowed him, he sat at the doorway of the temple where he observed a woman named Hannah crying and inaudibly mouthing words. He mistook her for being drunk. This is not too surprising, based on his sons’ behavior and his collusion in their priesthood, Eli was no great judge of character. Nor was he one to reprove a wrongdoer (at least not Hophni and Phinehas) so it is a little surprising that he had no problem correcting Hannah. When she set the matter straight, he was quick to give her a blessing, if only perhaps to get her out of the temple. It is interesting, if this is the case, since decorum in the temple did not seem to be of much concern to Eli. Surely his sons had caused more disrespect and trouble to the temple than Hannah did that evening. This is not flattering behavior on Eli’s part.

Hannah and Elkanah had their first child and named him Samuel. They later dedicated Samuel to the Lord’s service with Eli. Conceivably, because they had made such a sacrifice in giving up their son to the Lord’s ministry (1Sa 2:11) or perhaps in order to make up for his errant accusation of Samuel’s mother, Eli would bless the parents each year, asking God to give them more children (1Sa 2:20).

By the time we are certain Eli is “very old” (1Sa 2:22) he has been hearing of the sins of his sons against Israel. Though Eli would have understood his sons were not merely sinning against the young women by having sex with them (1Sa 2:22) or against God by treating his sacrifices with contempt (1Sa 2:17), he did not attempt to run them off as he had tried with Hannah. He did, however, make an effort to cajole them. Such efforts are futile when there are no “ears to hear.” Yet Eli heard, even if his sons could not, for the rumors were widespread. The people were informing Eli about his ill-behaved offspring. Still, all Eli had in him was to scold them in such a way as to insinuate his disappointment: I didn’t raise you to be like this. Their behavior was a sin against the whole of Israel and if it was not dealt with, all would pay for their sin. This is clearly seen in that Eli was called to account for his poor fathering skills, vis-à-vis his wayward sons. A man of God came to tell Eli in straightforward fashion that Eli loved and honored his sons with their sinful, faithless, and abusive character more than he esteemed the Lord (1Sa 2:29). Either Eli was associated with the actions of his boys or their uncorrected sins had at least spread to their father’s doorstep.

When Eli sat in the entrance of the temple and spied a young woman that he could easily correct, he was instead corrected by her. He quickly recanted and this paved the way for Samuel to become priest. But while he sat in that doorway, had Eli only looked within his own home, he would have found two men, also priests, who were sorely in need of correction. Eli spent that night on the outside of his home because he was not able to manage what was on the inside. Eli’s legacy is one of complicit corruption, disregard for the things of God, and a father who was incapable of raising and disciplining his children. This is a sad heritage for a priest who should have done better than raise a couple of selfish animals (Deut 6:7). As a result, his priestly line will be cut off altogether during the reign of Solomon (1Kgs 2:27).

What we fail to deal with, God will eventually straighten out. He didn’t raise us to act like this and he won’t put up with worthless, animal behavior forever.