Sunday, December 1, 2013

First Sunday of Advent

Today is the first Sunday of Advent, December 1, 2013. Here is a reading and short sermon from my files, from our eleven-year sojourn at First Presbyterian Church, Muscatine, Iowa.

Reading for the First Sunday of Advent: Isaiah 63:7 - 64:9
    7 I will recount the gracious deeds of the Lord,
   the praiseworthy acts of the Lord,
because of all that the Lord has done for us,
   and the great favour to the house of Israel
that he has shown them according to his mercy,
   according to the abundance of his steadfast love. 
8 For he said, ‘Surely they are my people,
   children who will not deal falsely’;
and he became their saviour 
9   in all their distress.
It was no messenger* or angel
   but his presence that saved them;*
in his love and in his pity he redeemed them;
   he lifted them up and carried them all the days of old. 

10 But they rebelled
   and grieved his holy spirit;
therefore he became their enemy;
   he himself fought against them. 
11 Then they* remembered the days of old,
   of Moses his servant.*
Where is the one who brought them up out of the sea
   with the shepherds of his flock?
Where is the one who put within them
   his holy spirit, 
12 who caused his glorious arm
   to march at the right hand of Moses,
who divided the waters before them
   to make for himself an everlasting name, 
13   who led them through the depths?
Like a horse in the desert,
   they did not stumble. 
14 Like cattle that go down into the valley,
   the spirit of the Lord gave them rest.
Thus you led your people,
   to make for yourself a glorious name.

15 Look down from heaven and see,
   from your holy and glorious habitation.
Where are your zeal and your might?
   The yearning of your heart and your compassion?
   They are withheld from me. 
16 For you are our father,
   though Abraham does not know us
   and Israel does not acknowledge us;
you, O Lord, are our father;
   our Redeemer from of old is your name. 
17 Why, O Lord, do you make us stray from your ways
   and harden our heart, so that we do not fear you?
Turn back for the sake of your servants,
   for the sake of the tribes that are your heritage. 
18 Your holy people took possession for a little while;
   but now our adversaries have trampled down your sanctuary. 
19 We have long been like those whom you do not rule,
   like those not called by your name. 
64O that you would tear open the heavens and come down,
   so that the mountains would quake at your presence— 
2 *as when fire kindles brushwood
   and the fire causes water to boil—
to make your name known to your adversaries,
   so that the nations might tremble at your presence! 
3 When you did awesome deeds that we did not expect,
   you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence. 
4 From ages past no one has heard,
   no ear has perceived,
no eye has seen any God besides you,
   who works for those who wait for him. 
5 You meet those who gladly do right,
   those who remember you in your ways.
But you were angry, and we sinned;
   because you hid yourself we transgressed.* 
6 We have all become like one who is unclean,
   and all our righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth.
We all fade like a leaf,
   and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away. 
7 There is no one who calls on your name,
   or attempts to take hold of you;
for you have hidden your face from us,
   and have delivered* us into the hand of our iniquity. 
8 Yet, O Lord, you are our Father;
   we are the clay, and you are our potter;
   we are all the work of your hand. 
9 Do not be exceedingly angry, O Lord,
   and do not remember iniquity for ever.
   Now consider, we are all your people. 

ADVENT MEDITATION   December 1, 2002  Muscatine, Iowa   M. Spangler
          It is a very long prayer, this reading from the prophet Isaiah, and within this long prayer to God there is a little bit of everything!
There is a look back at the Exodus – at the way God delivered God’s people by giving them a leader, Moses, and by God’s own glorious acts of power – parting the Red Sea, guiding and feeding them in the desert wastelands.
In the prayer there is a confession of sin – almost saying that yes, Lord, we want you to help us, but, Lord, to be honest, we don’t deserve it.
Along with the confession of sin there are a couple verses that seem to say that “yes, we have sinned, but we only sinned because you made us do it!” – in other words if you are an all-powerful God we could not sin unless you permitted it! The prayer talks about God hardening their hearts, just as God hardened pharaoh’s heart – for Hebrew theology could not imagine that anyone could disobey or resist God unless God allowed it or made it happen. (So if you snitch some fresh chocolate cookies and are caught in the act you can say quite honestly that God made you do it! Nothing you do is of your own will or is your own responsibility!)  I would say that our Presbyterian theology doesn’t go in exactly that direction  – we would say that God DOES give you the power and responsibility to make a good choice in regard to cookies and all desserts, and in regard to all your life decisions.
So there is a lot going on in this prayer of Israel!
Overall, the prayer is very much like the prayers we find in the book of Psalms. There is a basic trust in God – that the covenant is intact, that God’s promise to God’s people is still valid, that God will overcome every obstacle in order to save God’s people.
          It is a perfect reading, a perfect prayer for the beginning of the season of advent – for its theme is “Come, Lord – come and save your people.”
          Advent is Latin for “come” or “coming” or “come here!”
          The question we ask is the one very much like the question asked in Isaiah’s prayer: “Will God come to us again? Will God come with the kind of power God came with before?” At the beginning of chapter 64 the prayer gets a lot louder! “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains. . . and the nations. . . would quake at your presence!” The feeling in the prayer is that it’s as if God is up there in heaven, in God’s own little world, far away from our troubles. It’s as if the transparent fabric of heaven is thick and tough, that God will have to work hard at tearing through the fabric if God really wants to come down and help – and maybe God will feel that it’s too much work, too much trouble! That, after all, we’re not worth it.
          And, yes, Isaiah admits it: we’re not at all worth it! We have sinned, we have forgotten God, we have treated God and neighbor with contempt.
          So why will God bother? Picturing God in an armchair by the fireplace reading a good book – why will God let himself be disturbed by us? Why will God answer the phone?
          The pray-er of the prayer can only say this: “O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand. . . we are all your people.”
          What more can we say? Finally we have no where else to turn and nothing else we can do – but trust that God loves us as a Father loves his children.
          In the parable of the persistent widow and the unfair judge Jesus gave us a picture of a man who couldn’t care less – and yet! – he found himself yielding to the persistence of the woman who just wouldn’t take no for an answer – and if this cruel man will finally give in, Jesus is saying, will not God, who loves us!, surely hear our prayers and grant our requests!
          This prayer of Israel, this prayer of Isaiah on Israel’s behalf, as I said before, takes us back to the exodus – and there is a beautiful picture of God’s faithfulness – how God led them in the wilderness. Isaiah says: “Like a horse in the desert, the Hebrew children did not stumble. Like cattle that go down into the valley. . .” It reminds me of tending cattle – Guernsey dairy cattle – on my grandfather’s farm. As a boy I would run up the road a ways and open a gate on each side of the road so the cattle could cross from the upper pasture to the lower pasture and the track toward the barn. Once the cattle were all across and the gate shut again I would run back down the road and through the farm yard to the barn – and wait. And in a few minutes there they would be – one of them with a bell around her neck – there they would be in the barnyard waiting to come in and be fed and milked. – They didn’t need a little boy chasing them or a dog nipping at their heels for them to find the way. They knew the way home.
          And Isaiah says that is was once like that – “like cattle that go down into the valley” at sunset – so the people knew God’s guidance and they didn’t get lost.
          But now, O Lord, how lost we are. We’ve lost the track. Come and show us the way.
To Thomas’ puzzled question Jesus answered: Thomas, “I am the way and the truth and the life.”
It is a way, a path, that began in a stable and ended at an empty tomb. It was God’s answer to Isaiah’s question: “Will you forget us, will you keep silent?”
God came. God spoke a word, a living word, giving us a messiah, a savior. And God reminds us of the way, the cattle track, even today – with a table spread for us – and a word for us: “come – come to this table – here is life, here is home.”
We started out crying for God to come to us.
God came. And calls us, now, to come.

Prayer: Father, you are the potter and we are the clay. We are your people. We are glad we are your people, and that to us you have come and you have spoken and you have saved. In the name of that living word we pray. Amen.  

Friday, November 29, 2013

Fifty Thousand Pounds of Goats

I know I don't have any readers out there, because there's been nothing to read!
So this is my attempt to get back into blogging for 620 Bluff - "50,000 pounds of goats.

Liz and I visited my newlywed brother and his newlywed bride at the beginning of October. (Maybe there'll be a post about their August wedding sometime. And eventually I'll work my way back to when I left off with Winter in Vilnius.)

Tim and Gen have a beautiful home in the far southwestern area of Denver.


Among other things, Tim and nephew Matt and I went to a CU football game in Boulder. The opponent was Oregon, when they were still invincible. So no picture - it would be too gruesome.

We also rode bikes


on a great path (downhill) along the S. Platte River. Lunch a little north of the football stadium, and then we took our bikes on the light rail train back to the parking lot. A great day!

Another day we ended up downtown for supper at Marlowes with Matt, and then the four of us went to Boettcher Hall for the Denver Symphony. Some beautiful Brahms and then a Sibelius symphony. And, again, light rail home. (Too bad Wisconsin can't figure out light rail.)

And yet another day we headed out in the jeep and followed portions of the S. Platte again.





 We hoped to see great aspen color - and we did see a little. But not quite the conflagration we were banking on.

 We stopped at an old, old general store.



Bought a bottle of Pepsi (sitting in the jeep's backseat did some things to our stomachs - I needed some bubbles) - I think the bottle's sell-by date was 6-11, June 1911, that is. Well, not that old, but the last bubble of carbonation had burst many moons ago.

We also went past the Gudy Gaskill bridge.



It's part of the second or third stage of the Colorado Trail, which starts near Tim and Gen's place. We hope to walk parts of the trail one of these days.

OK - the GOATS! Tim is on the fire abatement committee for his community, and someone had the idea to hire Wyoming goats to munch on the underbrush in Tim's neighborhood - a small token of fire resistance, at least. So we watched for the goats . . .  and finally they arrived - 50,000 pounds of them, more or less. (They're hired not by the number of goats but by the pound. Don't ask!) At least a couple hundred goats, plus two or three people, and three border collies.




The goats were in residence two weeks and ate their fill. On their last night a mountain lion decided to eat his fill of goat. He jumped the fence and killed a goat, but wasn't able to jump back out with it. When this was discovered, the goatherds decided to put the goat out somewhere for the cat. They didn't want it coming back inside looking for it. And I understand that he waited a couple nights but finally came back and took it away - ripe and delicious!

Life in the wild, wild West.

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Wisconsin's Holy Land

I've been meaning to post this for several weeks.
And now that I'm going to be having surgery next week, followed by a period of recuperation, I'd better post it today!


Just east of Lake Winnebago is an area that was colonized by German immigrant farmers, beginning in the 1840s. They established close-knit farming communities centered on their Roman Catholic churches. This area came to be known as Wisconsin's "holy land."



The St. Lawrence boys school also dates from that period.

In addition to Mount Calvary, other names include St. Anna, St. Cloud, St. Joe, St. Peter, and so on.


Johnsburg's history is especially well-documented - I'll enlarge the photos of the historical signs in front of the church -



Scattered through the holy land are tall angels lifting their long arms in praise -



And farmers have to farm and cattle have to do what cattle do. . .


. . . so, given that this farm is in the holy land, is this holy ______ ?  Whatever - it's certainly liquid gold!

Liz and I certainly will wander this area again and again, so we'll bring you more reports.

On this trip a few weeks ago we ended up in St. Anna at its famous - notorious - steak place. Several boys - members of a visiting German youth orchestra - had suggested that they would enjoy a big American steak. So in St. Anna they got their wish!




They managed these porterhouses very well. There were no requests for doggy bags!

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Spring in Wisconsin

If you live in Wisconsin, you know that the title of this post is a cruel joke - there really has been no real spring in Wisconsin so far (April 14), at least in terms of temperatures. Our daily highs are still generally only in the 30s, or an occasional low 40.

But the snow is gone. And this is where it went:


This is Sheboygan Falls, a few miles upriver from Sheboygan. The Sheboygan river is pretty dramatic this spring:



lots of snow melt, plus lots of rainy days.



The rivers of our county - the Pigeon, the Mullet, the Onion, and the Sheboygan - have spread out from their banks in many places, but so far there's no serious flooding of homes or businesses, as far as I know. (River Park in Sheboygan Falls, above, is under water. The footbridge probably would not keep your feet dry. I don't know how the muskrat in the corner of the picture is feeling. Water would not be a problem, but I think they like dry homes to go to. And I wonder about any spring litters they might have had.)

Our immediate neighborhood proudly boasts some of the biggest storm drains in the city:


there are several drain covers like this, just in our block, and more in a few adjacent blocks. The reason is that back in the mid-1990s there were a couple days of heavy rains, and the water gathered in our neighborhood, which is slightly lower than the surrounding blocks. The rainwater rose to the level of our front porch and caved in the back portion of our basement wall, with similar damage all around us. And our neighbors to the east, downstream, suffered even more destruction. As a result a new and much bigger storm sewer system was constructed. We understand that the drain pipes under our street are six feet in diameter, and the conduit to the east, as more water is gathered and it dumps into the lake, is twelve feet across. (I may have the numbers wrong, but the sewers are BIG.)

We assume, perhaps in ignorance, that such a flood will not touch us again. Pride goeth. . .

Back to spring in Wisconsin 2013 - the tulips are doing their best.


But it is a struggle for them. Normally they soak up some nice afternoon sun, but this spring, what sun??

Well, so what? It's very good to be alive.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Winter in Wisconsin


This is what 620 Bluff looked like when we returned from Lithuania on March 1. And today, on March 19, it still looks the same - but I have taken down the Christmas wreath.
Although our neighbors are fed up with winter - understandably - since I missed out on three months of shoveling, it's been kind of fun to get a taste of late winter in Wisconsin.


And not just shoveling. About twenty miles west of us, in the Kettle Moraine State Forest, there's a fantastic area for cross-country skiing - and I've been lucky enough to get in on a couple days of skiing right at the end of the ski season.


I'm a slow "classic" skier - not a skate skier. My brother and I have occasionally vowed to learn to skate ski, and maybe we will, but in the meantime the classic pace is really nice for enjoying the ride,


for wondering about fellow travelers,


and for enjoying serendipitous symmetries.


My theme song - just need some words and music.

Thank you for reading post no. 1 of blog no. 2. Not much, but it's a start.