Homiletical Saturation

I have just returned from a first - my first Ascension Day service of worship. It took place at Peachtree Rd. United Methodist Church in Atlanta and was a culmination of a week where 2,000 or so preacher from across mainline denominations (folks like Methodists, Lutherans, Episcopalians, United Church of Christ, even a few Baptists, and of course us Presbyterians) gathered to listen to sermons for a change and also listen to some of the best preachers in the nation talk about their craft.

The sanctuary of our host congregation can hold 1500 persons - and it was full! This is a magnificent worship space full of beauty and majesty. (How nice to know that large sanctuaries don't have to be bare auditoriums.) We were blessed to hear Hayden and Beethoven sung by a 75 (I think I counted right) voice choir accompanied by an ensemble from the Atlanta Symphony. Sitting in the balcony, singing "Crown Him with Many Crowns" with the festival trumpets blaring at my back was an amazing experience.

I've always been impressed by the Festival of Homiletics, and that respect is only deepened this year, for this year's edition was filled with new voices, young clergy, and young talented musicians. Most of all, I appreciate the openness to the movement of God in the world. This is not the "dying mainline," entrenched with unchanging tradition. This is a vibrant mainline willing to be honest about the challenges it faces, open to change, but also unashamed of the vital core of faith that is its heartbeat. We heard from pastors of "cutting edge" churches, sang the music of young composers, and dialogued about how traditional churches can speak to an nontraditional world.

Ascension Day celebrates the ascension - the lifting up - of Jesus forty days following Easter. It remembers the departure of his physical presence. It prepares us for the Day of Pentecost when his spiritual presence and power were unleashed upon the disciples and the world. They still are! May that be true for the saints of Seneca Presbyterian Church, where we worship in slightly less grand but just as majestic space, to the glory of the same God whose love is never changing, yet always being made new.

At Home with Jesus

This Sunday at Seneca Presbyterian Church, we will continue our exploration of being a "sailboat church." Last week we talked about dreaming God's dream and thus becoming partners with God in the re-creation of the world. This week, we will talk about how. The answer is simple: abide.

The image comes to us from the Gospel of John. You'll find it in chapter 15, which is part of the amazing farewell discourse Jesus shares with this disciples in John. It is the night of his betrayal and arrest. This night will be his final opportunity to teach them as the Jesus they know. So Jesus talks to them of servants and masters and friends; of love and the Spirit and the gift of peace. He teaches them for four chapters - chapters 13, 14, 15, and 16. And then Jesus prays for them (and for us) for an entire chapter (ch. 17). Where Matthew, Mark, and Luke give us the Last Supper, John gives us foot washing - and words that have nurtured faith for centuries.

I am the vine, Jesus says, and you are the branches. Abide in me as I abide in you. Unless you do that, nothing is possible. It is the symbol that Jesus uses to describe what lies at the core of discipleship and at the heart of faith.

To abide means to rest, to stay put, to make a home and to stick with it, trusting that it is the right place to be. So what does in mean for us to abide in Jesus? We'll talk about that Sunday. Here are some thoughts to ponder.

How do you stay connected - abide - in Jesus? What activities or experiences or disciplines bring you closest to that flowing lifeline of faith?

What does it feel like to be pruned? What experiences in your life have seemed like pruning? In the end, did you find new life?

What fruits have come from your abiding - in your life and in the life of those around you?

Consider the image of a vine as a metaphor for the Church. How does it strike you?  Where's your branch? How's your fruit?