UNITED
Seventeenth Sunday After Pentecost -
World Wide Communion Sunday
Anne G. Cohen
Job 1:1 and 2:1-10
For Our Reflection:
In Judaism faith is. the capacity to perceive the
abiding. in the
transitory, the invisible in the
visible.
- Leo Baeck, Essence of Judaism (1936)
A book must be an ice ax to break the frozen sea within us.
- Franz Kafka, Czechoslovakian novelist (1883-1924)
Folk Tales
of Faith
An Ancient Hebrew Folk Tale told as Modern Midrash:
Long, long ago there was a very old God.
This God had many sons and daughters whom she loved with all her heart
and mind and soul. The children had not inherited all of the powers of
their mother - like the ability to create a universe or to bring life
out of dirt. But each had a special gift and designed for themselves
heavenly occupations that gave meaning to their being.
One day they all gathered around their mother for a family meeting. One
of the sons - Ha-Satan - was the most beautiful of all the children.
And it was this outward beauty that gave him a sense of superiority and
made him a bit of a bully. His chosen occupation was that of policing
planet Earth - it suited his gifts and personality. And humans were
easily impressed with his beauty which fed his ego. (Even heavenly
beings have egos - apparently.)
Ha-Satan, The Accuser, was also a good story-teller - weaving details
together to capture the imagination of his listeners. So, at every
family meeting, God would ask him about his latest encounter with humans
- and would hear stories that made her laugh and touched her heart. She
especially liked stories about Job, a man of integrity with whom she had
a special relationship - and a man who was not taken in by Ha-Satan's
beauty or gift with words - and usually gave him a run for his money.
This, as you can imagine, was annoying to Ha-Satan.
On this day, at this particular family meeting, Ha-Satan dared his
mother to quit protecting Job so that he could show her that Job's
integrity was only skin deep. He would bully the man - just a little -
and this test of faith would prove that Job was no saint. God was
feeling indulgent and agreed - knowing full well that Job would teach
Ha-Satan a necessary lesson in humility. She set a few limits and then
set her son loose on her favorite and most devoted human friend.
Ha-Satan had influence with some other folks on Earth. So he arranged
for some of them to take possession of Job's property. He arranged for
others to murder all of his servants. And he waited for a particularly
joyful time - when Job's children were all celebrating together - to
have them murdered all at once. And, just for good measure, he
instructed some bacteria to create sores all over Job's body.
He left Job's wife alive, for the time being, but you can imagine that
she was a little upset over all of these occurrences. She, like any
normal human, was angry at God for the immense suffering that had been
placed upon them. And, like any normal human, she expressed her anger
verbally. She told Job that if he refused to curse God, she would do it
for him.
But Job, no ordinary human, feeling that God's enduring EXISTENCE was
all that he had left - refused to reject his one solace - even when it
SEEMED as though God had forsaken him. He did not refrain from
QUESTIONING his Divine Creator at length - but he never allowed his pain
to eject the sure knowledge of his God from his heart.
God's bullying son was humiliated by Job's faith in God. Ha-Satan's
self-image was shattered - a blow to his ego which led to other, more
dastardly deeds. But that is another story.
God was relieved and quite satisfied with Job's strength of character,
his faithfulness under circumstances that would have destroyed anyone
else. Job was rewarded with a new family and prosperous twilight
years. Job never failed to grieve those he had loved and lost. But
his
life was meaningful because he could continue to love from the depths of
his heart.
And God - well God continued to be God.
Suffering and blessing - these things come and go.
God Is.
***
A Japanese Story:
The Japanese tea master Sen no Rikyu
built a teahouse on the side of a
hill overlooking the sea. Three guests were invited to the inaugural
tea ceremony. Hearing about the beautiful site, they expected to find a
structure that took advantage of the wonderful view. After arriving at
the garden gate, they were perplexed to discover a grove of trees had
been planted that obstructed the panorama.
Before entering the teahouse, the guests followed the traditional custom
of purifying their hands and mouths at the stone basin near the entry.
Stooping to draw water with a bamboo ladle, they noticed an opening in
the trees that provided a vision of the sparkling sea. In that humble
position they awakened to the relationship between the cool liquid in
the ladle and the ocean in the distance, between their individuality and
the ocean of life.
(Anthony Lawlor, "The Temple in the House,"
in Brussat, Spiritual Literacy pp.140-41)
***
A Story Told by a Vietnamese Buddhist Monk:
When I was four years old, my mother used to bring me a cookie every
time she came home from the market. I always went to the front yard and
took my time eating it, sometimes half an hour or forty-five minutes for
one cookie. I would take a small bite and look up at the sky. Then
I
would touch the dog with my feet and take another small bite. I just
enjoyed being there, with the sky, the earth, the bamboo thickets, the
cat, the dog, the flowers. I was able to do that because I did not have
much to worry about. I did not think of the future, I did not regret
the past. I was entirely in the present moment with my cookie, the dog,
the bamboo thickets, the cat, and everything.
It is possible to eat our meals as slowly and joyfully as I ate the
cookie of my childhood. Maybe you have the impression that you have
lost the cookie of your childhood, but I am sure it is still there,
somewhere in your heart. Everything is still there, and if you really
want it, you can find it. Eating mindfully is a most important practice
of meditation. We can eat in a way that we restore the cookie of our
childhood.
(Thich Nhat Hanh, Peace is Every Step pp.20-21)
***
A Story Told by a Unitarian Minister in
Elias Schwartz repairs shoes. He's short and round and bald and single
and middle-aged and Jewish. "An old-fashioned cobbler," says he,
nothing more, nothing less. I happened to be convinced that he is
really the 145th reincarnation of the Haiho Lama.
See, the Haiho Lama died in 1937, and the monks of
the Sa-skya monastery
have been searching for forty years for his reincarnation without
success. The New York Times carried the story last summer. The
article
noted that the Lama would be recognized by the fact that he went around
saying and doing wise things in small, mysterious ways, and that he
would be doing the will of God without understanding why.
Through some unimaginable error in the cosmic switching yards, the Haiho
Lama has been reincarnated as Elias Schwartz. I have no doubts about
it. My first clue came when I took my old Bass loafers in for total
renewal. The works. Elias Schwartz
examined them with intense care.
With regret in his voice he pronounced them not worthy of repair. I
accepted the unwelcome judgment. Then he took my shoes, disappeared
into the back of the shop, and I waited and wondered. He returned with
my shoes in a stapled brown bag. For carrying, I thought.
When I opened the bag at home that evening, I found two gifts and a
note. In each shoe, a chocolate-chip cookie wrapped in waxed paper.
And these words in the note: "Anything not worth doing is worth not
doing well. Think about it. Elias Schwartz."
The Haiho Lama strikes again. And the monks
will have to go on looking.
Because I'll never tell - we need all the Lamas here we can get.
(Robert Fulghum, Everything I Needed to Know I
Learned in Kindergarten pp120-21)
***
A Sufi Legend:
Abu Yazid made his periodic journey to purchase
supplies at the bazaar
in the city of
returned home, he discovered a colony of ants in the cardamom seeds. He
carefully packed the seeds up again and walked back across the desert to
the merchant from whom he had bought them. His intent was not to
exchange the seeds but to return the ants to their home.
(retold in "Breakfast at the Victory" by
James P. Carse, in Brussat
p.190)
***
A Jewish Parable from the Folk Tradition:
All their lives the two young brothers had lived in the city behind
great stone walls and never saw field nor meadow. But one day they
decided to pay a visit to the country. As they went walking along the
road, they saw a farmer at his plowing. They watched him and were
puzzled.
"What on earth is he doing that for!" they wondered. "He
turns up the
earth and leaves deep furrows in it. Why should someone take a smooth
piece of land covered with nice green grass and dig it up?"
Later they watched the farmer sowing grains of wheat along the furrows.
"That man must be crazy!" they exclaimed. "He takes good
wheat and
throws it into the dirt."
"I don't like the country!" said one in disgust. "Only
queer people
live here." So he returned to the city.
His brother who remained in the country saw a change take place only
several weeks later. The plowed field began to sprout tender green
shoots, even more beautiful and fresher than before. This discovery
excited him very much. So he wrote to his brother in the city to come
at once and see for himself the wonderful change.
His brother came and was delighted with what he saw. As time passed
they watched the sproutings grow into golden heads of
wheat. Now they
both understood the purpose of the farmer's work.
When the wheat became ripe, the farmer brought out his scythe and began
to cut it down. At this the impatient one of the two brothers
exclaimed:
"The farmer is crazy! How hard he worked all these months to produce
this lovely wheat, and now with his own hands he is cutting it down!
I'm disgusted with such an idiot and I'm going back to the city!"
His brother, the patient one, held his peace and remained in the
country. he watched the farmer gather the wheat
into his granary. He
saw him skillfully separate the grain from the chaff. He was filled
with wonder when he found that the farmer had harvested a hundred-fold
of the seed that he had sowed. Then he understood that there was logic
in everything that the farmer had done.
(A Treasury of Jewish Folklore Ed. by Nathan Ausubel
p.57-58)
***
A Story from
Many years ago, Barbara Myerhoff was teaching a class
at the
of
the students were required to interview someone very different from
themselves, someone with whom they would not normally converse.
One young man in the class, who had lived an unusually protected and
insulated middle-class life, was having such great difficulty in finding
a subject that he considered dropping the course. However, the day the
paper was due, he arrived in the class ecstatic.
"I was at my wit's end," he said, "when it occurred to me to
interview
our Guatemalan housekeeper. Naturally, I was very nervous because I had
never really spoken to her, and it was rather late at night. But as I
had to do the paper, I went to her room and knocked at her door. When I
entered, I explained my need, asking if it would be a terrible nuisance
for her to tell me something about her life. She looked at me strangely
and my heart sank.
After what seemed a very, very long time, she said quietly, 'Every night
before I go to sleep, I rehearse the story of my life, just in case
someone should ever ask me. Gracias a Dios.'"
(Deena Metzger, "Writing for Your Life," Brussat pp.279-80)
***
A Story. There was once a Jew who made his living telling Jewish
tales. He would travel the countryside of
with whoever might listen, hoping in return to be invited for a meal or,
even better, given a kopeck for his efforts.
One day the teller of tales met Israel Baal Shem Tov
(Besht), the
founder of Hasidism. The Besht was already
known throughout
Europe
peace and joy to [others]. Moments spent with him, a mere glance from
his radiant eyes, would relieve even the worst suffering.
The Besht invited the man to spend six months with
him. "Live with me,"
he said. "Watch very closely what I do and who comes to see
me. Then
you will have enough tales to tell for the rest of your life. And who
knows, you too might one day through your stories relieve a [person] of
their suffering and pain."
The teller of tales accepted the invitation. Who could turn down the
Besht? And after six months of observing and
listening, he left,
overflowing with tales and experiences to share. But again, to his
dismay, few wanted to listen. Sometimes at an inn, some fellow who had
imbibed too much would listen to a story and offer him a
vodka, but
times were tough.
Now he is traveling through the outermost parts of
someone to listen. On a cold winter's night he arrives at an inn on the
Polish border. He goes around trying to tell his tales but tonight no
one, not one soul, is interested. Finally the innkeeper calls him over.
"Listen," he says, "no one here is interested in you or your
tales. But
a few miles from here there lives a Polish nobleman
who not only loves
to hear stories, but will pay you handsomely for each tale he has never
heard before."
The teller of tales leaves the inn, trudges through the snow on this
dark wintry night, until he sees a flame in the distance. He walks
toward the light, which turns out to be one of the many torches that
light up the nobleman's castle - so brightly that it appears to be on
fire. Here there are guards and sentries, magnificent hallways covered
with huge paintings and red velvet curtains. The doorkeeper asks the
purpose of his visit.
"I have a story to tell," he says.
The doorkeeper leads him through the castle until they arrive at two
huge doors, which he flings open. There, at the end of a long table,
sits the nobleman, stone-faced, disinterested, with two high stacks of
kopecks at his side.
The teller of tales sits down and starts telling stories. The nobleman
sits unimpressed, unmoved. Every so often, after a tale he had not
heard, he pushes over one kopeck. The teller of tales reaches for every
story he has ever heard, every experience he has ever had. The face of
the nobleman doesn't budge, doesn't show the slightest emotion.
Finally, the teller of tales has told everything; he knows nothing
more. He rises to take leave. Now the nobleman says, "Is that
all?"
Their eyes meet for the first time.
"Well, there is one more, just one more. While I was staying with
the
Baal Shem Tov, a man once came to him, very
upset. 'Master of the Good
Name,' he said, "I was once a Jew, but the outside world beckoned me -
its knowledge, its material possessions, its
culture. I felt
constrained by the Jewish tradition, and in order to partake of it all,
I converted and became a Christian. Now I am successful and rich, but
also forlorn. I feel I did the wrong thing. What shall I do?'
The
Besht responded, 'Don't worry, my son. Just use
your good fortune and
knowledge to help the poor and the needy.'
"'But,' the man continued, 'when will I know I have been forgiven?'
"And the Besht said, 'You will know you are
forgiven when one day you
hear this story told.'"
Now the teller of tales looked up, and a radiance
illumined the
nobleman's face. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he embraced the man
who had set him free.
(Because God Loves Stories Ed. by Steve Zeitlin
pp.66-67)
***
What remains of a story after it is finished? Another
story. – Elie Wiesel
*************************
BULLETIN
WE GATHER FOR PRAYER AND CELEBRATION
Music for Gathering
Welcome and Perspective on the Day
Musical Preparation for Worship - A Time for Centering
+ Call to Worship (unison)
Praised be our Eternal God, Ruler of the universe,
whose word brings on the evening and the morning,
whose wisdom opens heaven's gates, whose
understanding makes the ages pass and the seasons alternate,
and whose will controls the stars as they travel through the skies.
Praised be our Eternal God!
+ Opening Hymn Come and Find the Quiet
Center CSB # 15
+ A Modern Psalm (responsive)
One: Two people watched the same sunset. One said:
Many: "At times like this I am afraid.
The sky is
so vast, the sea so immense.
In
comparison, I'm a speck of dust,
here today,
gone tomorrow.
When I look
at the hugeness of creation,
I feel my
insignificance
and I wonder
what my life is all about."
One: The second person said:
Many: "What a glorious sunset!
Just think!
I am the
reason that this exists.
I am the
only proof I have
of all the
beauty in this world.
Without the
gift of my life,
the gift of
my senses,
all this
would be as nothing.
I praise God
that the universe is held in the wonder
of my being!"
+ Our Common Prayer (unison) from the Maori Anglican Liturgy
Eternal Spirit,
Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver,
Source of all that is and that shall be,
Father and Mother of us all,
Loving God, in whom is heaven;
The hallowing of your name echo through the universe!
The way of your justice be followed by the people of
the earth!
With the bread we need today, feed us.
In the hurts we inflict on one another, forgive us.
In the time of temptation and test, strengthen us.
>From trials too great to endure, spare us.
>From the grip of all that is evil, free us.
For your reign is in the glory of the power that is love,
now and forever. Amen.
Time for Silent Reflection
One: My soul
waits in silence.
All: God is
my rock and my fortress. I will be at peace.
Silent
Reflection
The
Assurance of Good News (unison)
God holds us close and tells us stories. We are God's beloved.
Sung Response
"Hallelujah. God be praised!" (CSB #5 Refrain)
WE TEACH, REFLECT AND PROCLAIM
Conversation with Our Children
Reading from the Hebrew Scripture Job 1:1, 2:1-10
Sermon
Folk Tales of Faith
Celebration of Holy Communion
+ Communion Hymn Walls Mark Our Boundries CSB # 1
Invitation
Sharing the Bread
and the Cup
Prayer of
Thanksgiving (unison)
We affirm the goodness of life and the openness of the future
because our God is a God of life and love.
As God comes to us in this act of communion,
so let us go out to others in acts which bring healing, reconciliation
and hope to our world. Amen.
WE RESPOND TO GOD'S INVITATION
Intercessions, Celebrations and Encouragements
Call to
Prayer Be still and know that I am
God
Hymnal # 743
Time for
Silence
Our Joys and
Concerns and an Offering of Prayer
Sung
Response In Solitude Hymnal #521 vv. 1 & 2
We Offer Our Gifts So That Our Lives May Be Our Prayer
Offertory
Prayer of
Dedication (unison)
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.
+ Sending
Hymn The
People of God CSB # 26
+ Commissioning (unison)
Let us go forth from this place and BE the stories
that God will tell to inspire hope.
+ Sung Response (we gather in some semblance of a
circle)
CSB #42 Refrain
Draw the circle wide. Draw it wider still.
Let this be our song, no one stands alone, standing side by side.
Draw the circle wide.
+ Postlude
WORSHIP
NOTES
Call to Worship is from Gates of Prayer for Shabbat, Chaim Stern, Ed. c.1992 (p.13)
A Modern Psalm is #16 Vision in Aotearoa
Psalms:Prayers of a New
People by Joy Cowley c.2001 (
Our Common Prayer is from
the Maori Anglican Liturgy (
Prayer of Dedication is from The Pilgrim Hymnal #177, v.4