Telling Stories

Telling Stories

Presented at County Line Brethren Church on February 21, 2010.
Year C, First Sunday in Lent
Scripture passages: Deuteronomy 26:1-11; Romans 10:8b-13; Luke 4:1-13

In the near future, I plan to return to Pleasant Hill, Ohio for a visit. I haven't actually seen anyone from there in almost 46 years. Our family left there after I finished the 4th grade. I drove through the town once or twice as an adult, but I never connected with anyone face to face. I did speak to one of my former classmates from Pleasant Hill, perhaps in 1986 or 1987. Martin Peacock was actually one of Max Strother's references when he applied here for the position of youth pastor. Martin was one of my classmates in school from 1960-1964 in Pleasant Hill. He also happened to be Max Strother's pastor for awhile. Small world, huh?

I've mentioned some of my memories from Mulvane, Kansas, but I do not recall sharing any memories from Pleasant Hill. Pleasant Hill was my father's first full time pastorate. I still remember my phone number, OR(chard)6-2801. I remember trying to smoke a hollow dead reed from a bush in the yard of the parsonage – just to see what smoking was like – I didn't like it. I remember running home scared from school once because there was a bully nearby. I remember school being let out early the day JFK was assassinated. I remember praying for a basketball for Christmas – and I got a basketball for Christmas!!! To this day, I'm not sure if it was God, my parents or Santa who answered that prayer (wink). I also remember having a friend of mine on the prayer list, Tony Fessler, who had developed pneumonia. Funny what we remember, isn't it. I have recently had contact with him via email. By the way, Tony is doing fine and still has a collection of get well cards he received from his classmates that he looks at every once in awhile. God answered our prayers 46 years ago and Lord willing, I hope to see him again soon. Our memories and telling our stories, in some way, define who we are today.

I don't recall ever preaching on this passage in Deuteronomy before. Here's the context. The children of Israel are poised to enter the Promised Land after wandering in the desert for 40 long years. Beginning in Chapter 5, Moses shares instructions about God's law with the people. Indeed, most of Deuteronomy is comprised of this long speech, if you will, of Moses giving instructions to the Israelites before they enter the Land. Moses talks about the importance of obeying God, clean and unclean food, canceling debts every 7 years, the sin of usury, not moving boundary markers, the cities of refuge, marriage laws, providing for the needs of the poor and the aliens, and a host of other laws.

Near the middle of this long discourse, in chapter 26, Moses provides instruction regarding the sharing of the First Fruits. In this agrarian society, land would be king and harvest time was critical. Throughout the Old Testament the land would be a prominent theme, as one of God's greatest promises and abundant gifts, and one of the people's most symbolic treasures. It is important to note that the “promised land” came from God and was (and still is today) the source of life for the people, literally and figuratively. And yet, our common failing as human beings is to forget the source of our subsistence. We work hard. Indeed, farmers are among the hardest working laborers in any society. They prepare the soil, plant the seed, tend the young plants, chase away weeds and predators, grooming them when needed, and carefully maximizing the harvest. This is done day in and day out, year after year, some years better than others, for a lifetime. The Lord, knowing the deepest, most hidden part of our hearts, knew our propensity to give ourselves too much credit and take God and his gifts too much for granted.

And so God, in his wisdom, sought to remind us of the source of our sustenance. God set forth a ritual surrounding the feast when the harvest begins. The farmer brings a basket of the very first pickings to the priest. As he stands before the priest, still holding the gift basket, he says the following to the priest.
Today I declare to the LORD your God that I have come into the land that the LORD swore to our ancestors to give us. (Deut. 26:3 – NRSV)

This is a very real and meaningful statement. The farmer is, in this opening statement, affirming that the land came from God. Not only that, for in this statement, the farmer confesses that this gift of the land was a fulfillment of God's promises to their ancestors several generations before. The message is strong. God fulfills his promises.

The priest then takes the basket, accepting the affirmation of God as Source, God as a Promise Keeper, as well as an acknowledgement of the gift. The priest sets the gift before the altar of the Lord. Then the farmer made the following statement.

A wandering Aramean was my ancestor; he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien, few in number, and there he became a great nation, mighty and populous. When the Egyptians treated us harshly and afflicted us, by imposing hard labor on us, we cried to the LORD, the God of our ancestors; the LORD heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our oppression. The LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with a terrifying display of power, and with signs and wonders; and he brought us into this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. So now I bring the first of the fruit of the ground that you, O LORD, have given me. (Deut 26: 5-10 – NRSV)

This is a confession, a story if you will, of God's great benevolence to the children of Israel. This is not just for the farmer, it is for all of us. It is a confession about who I am and who we are. It is a confession of the rightful positioning of God and his people. It is a story of where I/we have come from. It is a story about the greatness of God's generosity and what God has done for me/us. Truly, that is what confessions are – they are stories about God, and us. They remind us of God's grace, mercy and abundance – of hearing and answering our cries for help and of his provisions for our care and survival. These confessions chop away at our delusions of being self-made women or self-made men. You may have worked your fingers to the bone, but where did you get those fingers? You may have done it your way, but you didn't do it yourself. No one ever has. Where do you think those skills came from that have allowed you to do your job.

Malcolm Gladwell has written three best-selling novels: The Tipping Point, Blink and, most recently, Outliers. In this most recent work, Gladwell essentially debunks the whole idea of the self-made man. In the book, he states, “the biggest misconception about success is that we do it solely on our smarts, ambition, hustle and hard work." The fact of the matter is that a lot of “success” has to do with factors outside of the control of the individual.

I'm reminded of the show on the Weather Channel entitled, “When Weather Changed History.” It highlights how weather impacted historical events such as D-Day, the Battle of the Bulge, in George Washington’s battles with the British, or how a dust storm in an Iranian desert shut down an American rescue attempt. It is not just the size or firepower of the engaging armies. Something else is at play. Yes, larger forces are at play here.

How else would you explain the approaching winter in Moscow as one of the reasons for the downfall of Napoleon. Furthermore, in War and Peace, Tolstoy attributes the victory to none other than Providence, especially given that on paper the Russian army should have lost, but at every critical moment, the Russian army was spared from disaster. The novel, War and Peace, is as much a theological treatise as it is an historical novel of the War of 1812. Indeed, it is a confession proclaiming God as Source, God as a Promise Keeper, as well as an acknowledgement of the gift , no less than the confession farmer as he gave the basket of First Fruits to the priest. These are confessional stories. They are stories which tell of God's Providence and Provision.

Two important people in my life have written some of their memoirs before they died. One was my Uncle Allen. He was the sports editor for the Lancaster Intel Journal in Lancaster Pennsylvania for 10 years. He tells a story about how he was privileged to cover the 1976 Montreal Summer Olympics. He was asked to go by the head of the amateur archery association in the U.S., who happened to live in Lancaster. This man, Clayton Shenk, actually used his influence to get my uncle his press pass to go to Montreal. My uncle recognized that it had nothing to do with his own abilities, but the persistence of Clayton Shenk who secured the press pass for Montreal.

My uncle also tells the story about how he became interested in the justice issues of Central America. This was sparked by a sermon in which his minister in Baltimore which described a pastor in Arizona by the name of John Fife who was giving sanctuary to refugees from Guatemala and El Salvador. He went on a couple of trips to Central America in support of justice for the poor people there. In his memoirs, he speaks of how coincidences or Providence created these opportunities. Indeed, it was not my uncle's abilities. Instead it was Providence.

For me, I have had a strong interest in missions, which I attribute to spending time with missionaries and their kids while they were on furlough and going around to churches telling their stories. And then there was the missionary service at General Conference one year. I don't remember who the speaker was. I can't even remember what year it was exactly, perhaps early 70's?? There were two of us that went forward that evening: Ron Waters and myself. I felt privileged when I was here at County Line to go to Lost Creek and to Mexico (as part of a youth trip to San Diego). And a few years ago, I was able to visit El Salvador. It seems that I have inherited my uncle's love for Central America and justice. These are my confessions, my stories. They are stories of the Provision and the Providence of God.

I remember when I made the decision to seek a pastorate. We were living in Westfield, attending the new Carmel Brethren Church. When it was mentioned to me about the possibility of County Line, one of my first concerns was that Herb had served here. As it turned out that was not a problem. I then decided upon a plan. Wherever I would go, I would first be called to the church, then I would give my 30 day notice to my present job, and put our mobile home up for sale and sell it in 30 days. Then, in perfect timing, we would move to our new home in answer to the new call. Well, I may have told this story, this confession, before, but it illustrates how God has a sense of humor. Prior to coming up to County Line for the visit, I decided that I needed to tell my boss what I was seeking and that I did not anticipate being around much longer. Now when you tell that to a judge, or some other employers, they could let you go before you're ready. But he did not and was supportive in the midst of his disappointment. We also decided to put the mobile home up for sale. Well, it sold in a matter of days. And we had to be out of the house before the vote. As I recall in the week between our visit and the church's vote, as we were discussing some things with the buyer, there was a knock on the door – It was Charles and Virginia King!! What am I supposed to do, lie to them? Well, we ended up telling them that we had already sold the house and requested that this information be kept a secret for awhile. So, by the time the vote was being taken here at County Line, Beth and the girls had temporarily moved back to Ashland to be with her parents, we had no home, I was living temporarily with Mark Baker, and our belongings were scattered in 3 different places in 2 different states. So, when I got the call from County Line asking me to be your pastor and they asked when I could start, I pretty much said whenever you want. God does have a sense of humor. Oh, and by the way, when I first considered seeking a pastorate, I told God, “anywhere but further north.” Just a word of advice to those who are listening, don't tell God where you won't go!! These are my confessions, my stories. They are stories of the Provision and the Providence of God, and his wonderful gifts.

I believe that this is part of what Paul had in mind when he wrote,

The word is near you, on your lips and in your heart" (that is, the word of faith that we proclaim); because if you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For one believes with the heart and so is justified, and one confesses with the mouth and so is saved. (Romans 10:8-10 – NRSV)

This is not just a simple rote phrase to be repeated or to verify true believers. Rather these confessional stories remind us of our position to the God we serve, his faithfulness and his abundant gifts.

All of us have these confessional stories. Some of them go back many, many years. And some of them are from our ancestors and friends who are no longer with us. Beth's dad, Herb, along with Evelyn, wrote in their memoirs about coming to County Line.

[I read from their memoirs]