Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

When is a "natural talent" a spiritual gift? That isn’t an easy question to answer. If you limit yourself to the Pauline lists, you quickly realize that you can’t offer an either/or answer to the question. Could they be natural talents with a supernatural add? Could they be transformed natural talents, where once they were natural but if they are used for sacred purposes we should consider them to be spiritual gifts? It is probably best not to make a sharp distinction between gifts and talents and recognize the mystery of the Spirit’s engagement with our lives. In the mystery of creation, we can recognize that what we call talents are in reality divine gifts of grace. We can use them for our own purposes, or in gratitude to the creator use them in the work of God’s kingdom. A gift’s usefulness to the community faith is rooted in our appreciation of the one who is the true source of all talents and abilities, the Creator.

The biblical discussions of creation witness to the mystery of human life. There is a strong sense that humanity is created for a relationship with God and gifted with abilities that relate to that calling. Hear the implications of the Psalmist’s affirmation of God’s attention to the details of our formation as individuals.

For it was you who formed my inward parts;

you knit me together in my mother's womb.

I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made

(Ps. 139:13-14).

We do not have to take this passage in a deterministic or literalist manner to appreciate our calling by God to stand before God as people who are "fearfully and wonderfully made." This passage helps us affirm that each of us, no matter our backgrounds, skills, intelligence, social class, have something to offer to the world. Who we are and what we do does make a difference. No one else can do what I do like I do it and no one can do what you do quite like you do it. It’s not just a matter of talent; it’s also a matter of personality and temperament. Who we are is somewhat of a mystery, but the call to use our talents and abilities to create a community of faith that will witness to the love of our God, that is not a mystery.

Excerpted from Gifts of Love (unpublished mss.)

Charismatic and Progressive too?

The word, charismatic, has a somewhat dubious ring to it, at least in Mainline churches, but I want to claim it for progressive and moderate mainline communities of faith. I want to be able to say: I’m a charismatic and you are too! Of course, if you are going to accept this label, we’ll need to define the word.

Since the Greek word charis, from which we derive the words charisma and charismatic means grace, the simplest way of defining the word charismatic is to say that we are charismatics because we have tasted God’s favor or grace, which eventuates in wonderful gifts (charisms) that enable us to experience God’s love and in turn love our neighbors. We call these gifts “gifts of grace,” because they’re not something we’ve earned, but they simply come to us as a result of God’s abundant love for the world.

The greatest gift of God is life itself. In the opening chapters of Genesis, God fashions humanity from the dust of the earth and then breathes life into this creation (Gen. 2:7). The word for breath is the same as the word for Spirit, so in essence, God breathes into us the Spirit, which makes it possible for us to experience life. If life is the result of God’s breath, then in essence God is present within each of us. As a result, the seed of the Holy Spirit is within us, so that, as Buddhist writer Thich Nhat Hanh writes, we “have the capacity of healing, transforming, and loving. When we touch that seed, we are able to touch God the Father and God the Son.”  [Thich Nhat Hanh, Living Buddha, Living Christ. (New York:  Riverhead Books, 1995), 15.]   Having received the gifts, the charismata of the Spirit, we are prepared to share the life that God has invested in us. Thus, we are all charismatics.

As signs of grace, spiritual gifts are not personal acquisitions or even marks of personal holiness. Grace is the foundation of the church’s giftedness, and grace, as Philip Yancey writes, is the “last best word,” because no matter how the word is used in the English language it “retains some of the glory of the original.” [Philip Yancey, What’s So Amazing About Grace? (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Publishing House, 1997), 12.]  Anne Lamott says that while she does not understand the mystery of grace, she knows “only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us. It can be received gladly or grudgingly, in big gulps or in tiny tastes, like a deer at the salt.” [Annie Lamott, Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith, (New York: Anchor Books, 2000), 143.]  Grace gives us freedom to explore, to try, and to fail, and then to try again. It is forgiving and empowering love that heals the shame, which suggests that our lives don’t have value. Grace, according to Lewis Smedes, “stands for gift; it is the gift of being accepted before we become acceptable.” [Lewis Smedes, Shame and Grace, (San Francisco: Harper San Francisco, 1993), 108.]  That is, grace is a state of being for which we do not have sufficient words, but it is a state that allows God’s people to step boldly out into life and live lives of redeeming and healing relationships with their neighbors. Whatever it means to be spiritually gifted, because they are signs of grace it means that we are blessed, even if undeserving, recipients of God’s grace.

Excerpt from Gifts of Love (unpublished mss.)

I Have Sinned: A Word for Ash Wednesday

Psalm 51:1-5 (NRSV)

To the leader. A Psalm of David, when the prophet Nathan came to him, after he had gone in to Bathsheba.


1 Have mercy on me, O God,
according to your steadfast love;
according to your abundant mercy
blot out my transgressions.
2 Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,
and cleanse me from my sin.
3 For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is ever before me.
4 Against you, you alone, have I sinned,
and done what is evil in your sight,
so that you are justified in your sentence
and blameless when you pass judgement.
5 Indeed, I was born guilty,
a sinner when my mother conceived me.

Ash Wednesday is a day of introspection, reflection, and repentance.  Marked with ash, we are reminded that we are sinners in need of forgiveness.

Psalm 51, which is traditionally attributed to David, a man known to be close to the heart of God, reflects upon David's own transgressions.  In this Psalm David cries out to God "I am a sinner" after Nathan rebukes him for his affair with Bathsheba (2 Sam. 12:1-7).  In this back story to the Psalm, David spies out Bathsheba, begins an affair that leads to a pregnancy, and finally to the death of Bathsheba's husband -- because he is too honorable to sleep with his wife while his troops are at the front.  Nathan confronts David with his transgressions, telling a parable of two men, one rich and one poor.  The rich man, who has many lambs, takes the poor man's one lamb and slaughters it to put on a feast for his friends.  David is furious, and then Nathan says to him:  "You are the man!"  This revelation leads to David's act of repentance, an act of repentance that is expressed through this Psalm (even if David likely didn't write it).

David's cry of repentance is very different from those we're used to seeing on television from politicians and preachers.  This is no maudlin confession like the one given by Jimmy Swaggart, which was more show than anything.  In this psalm we see an expression of deep anguish and repentance.  It also reflects the realization that it is almost impossible to escape from sin's hold on our lives.  The 5th verse says it clearly:  "indeed, I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me."  Lest we get caught up in debates about whether sin is a genetic defect or not (as St. Augustine essentially taught the church), the focus is on the reality of our own sinfulness -- whatever the cause.  We're all tainted.

Although the chosen passage ends with the confession that sin conditions one's life, the prayer itself begins with a different confession.  In this is the good news.  Even as the penitent cries out, seeking God's mercy, the person making this confession roots the request in God's steadfast love.  Biblical commentator James Luther Mays writes:

Confession of Sin is already on the way to justification because it is first of all a response to grace.  It is the act in which we humans acknowledge what we are before God and what God is for us.  We are sinners; God is gracious.  (James Luther Mays, Psalms: Interpretation Commentary, WJK, 1994, p. 199). 

As we begin the Lenten journey, we do so knowing that while we are all sinners in need of mercy and forgiveness, "God is gracious."  Without this knowledge we might fall into despair.  With this knowledge, we have the confidence to continue the journey, knowing that God's steadfast love is ever present with us.

(Amended version of reflection published in the 2011 Lenten Devotional of Central Woodward Christian Church, edited by John McCauslin).  

God First Loved Us . . .

Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. 8Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. 9God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him. 10In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins.  . . . God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them. 17Love has been perfected among us in this: that we may have boldness on the day of judgement, because as he is, so are we in this world. 18There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love. 19We love because he first loved us. (1 John 4:7-10, 16b-19)

Yesterday I posted a definition of love provided by theologian Thomas Oord.  Oord is at work trying to bring love into the center of Christian theological discussion.  The question is -- how do we understand love.  Oord's basic definition is:

To love is to act intentionally, in sympathetic/empathetic response to God and others, to promote overall well being. (Nature of Love, p. 17).

In offering this definition, Oord is not implying that only Christians can love or even that God alone can love, but he wants us to consider what it means to truly place love at the center of Christian theology. 

Two of the theologians that Oord responds to are Anders Nygren and St. Augustine.  Both understand love differently, but in the end they both limit human ability to love.  For Nygren, true love  is agape,   and this love comes only from God, without human involvement.  Humans -- indeed Christians -- are simply tubes through which God pours out love.  Augustine, on the other hand distinguishes between cupidity and charity.  Cupidity is desire, and it is the only form of love humans can express -- and its less than perfect.  Charity is something God alone shares, and that generally is shared with God alone.  It's all rather complicated, but suffice it to say -- we can't truly love either God or neighbor.

But Oord disputes these definitions and wants us to understand that love is central to our relationship with God and to our relationships with neighbors.  Love is at heart relational, even as it's intentional.  That said, the question is -- where does love begin?  And, writing as a theologian, Oord follows John and affirms that love is from God.  Note:

God first loving us should not refer primarily to what God has done in the distant past.  The idea God first loves should refer primarily to God acting first in any particular moment to make possible our love in response.  This idea is what theologians often call "prevenient grace."  It says God's loving action comes before and makes possible our free response.  God is a personal and causal being to whose call loving creatures can respond appropriately.  Creatures could not love if our relational God were not the Lover who initially empowers, inspires, and beckons them.  (Nature of Love, p. 21).

"We love because he first loved us."

In making this statement, when it comes to love, God does not act deistically -- planting the idea of love in the world and then backing off, letting nature take its course.  Instead, God is always involved loving us first so that we might -- if we choose to respond in that way  -- love God and neighbor, but as the letter says --

Poured Out -- A Lectionary Meditation

Joel 2:23-32

2 Timothy 4:6-18

Luke 8:9-14

Poured Out

Each week, as I sit down to write this lectionary meditation, I look at the text to see if there is something that connects them in one way or another. After all, the creators of the lectionary have tried to some extent to bring some thematic unity to their choices. It doesn’t always work, but often something sticks out, something catches the imagination. As I looked at these three texts, which in some ways are quite distinct, a phrase stood out in two of the passages – the words “pour[ed] out.” In the Joel passage, the Spirit is poured out on the whole people, empowering and equipping them to bear witness to the things of God. In the passage from 2 Timothy, the author (assumed to be Paul in the text) claims to have been “poured out as a libation.” That is, he is being offered up as an offering to God. The words don’t appear in the Lukan parable, but consider the cry of the tax collector, he pours out his heart before God, seeking forgiveness. It could be that the Spirit is being poured out upon us, or it may be that the calling of God has led to our being poured out as an offering, or perhaps it is the need to pour out the heart to God so as to receive God’s gracious offer of forgiveness. Whatever is the case, we are being called upon to rest our lives in the hands of God.

If there is this common word usage, the passages themselves take us in different directions. Each is well known to many people of faith. The Joel passage has long been familiar to me as it has been used as a basis of Pentecostal theology. The second half of the passage serves as a foundation for Peter’s sermon in Acts 2, where he interprets the events of the Pentecost experience in light of this very text. In Peter’s mind (as presented by Luke), Joel’s promises of the coming of the Spirit upon the people of God so that young and old, male and female, slave and free might bear witness to God’s grace is being fulfilled. The first half has been used by Pentecostal preachers to suggest that the renewed Pentecostal experience of the 20th century is itself a fulfillment of Joel, and thus is a sign that God is winding things down. What had been lost, as Aimee Semple McPherson, declared in a famous sermon, has now been restored. Now is the time of the Latter Rain. Whatever our sense of the Pentecostal interpretation, there is a strong promise here that God is at work restoring that which is broken.

In the letter to Timothy, the author (named here as Paul) is reflecting on his own life, and acknowledging that the end is near. He has fought the good fight and has finished the race. He did what God had called upon him to do. He has no regrets, for he now awaits the “crown of righteousness,” which awaits all those who long for the appearing of Christ Jesus. Yes, it has been difficult at times – witness the report of the opposition and even abandonment by friends and supporters. But in the end, it doesn’t matter, because even if his human friends abandoned him – I picture the author identifying himself with Jesus on the night of his betrayal – the Lord has stood with him. Yes, the Lord has stood with him so that the message of God might be proclaimed to the Gentiles. He has been rescued from attacks by those who would do him evil, but now the heavenly realm awaits him, he is content, and so he can stop and offer praise to God for his glory.

The Lukan Parable is brief, powerful, and requiring a bit of caution as we approach it. The point of the parable is to address those who put their trust in their own righteousness, and not only that but treat others with contempt. Yes, this is a parable that challenges our tendency toward self-righteousness. “But, by the grace of God, goes me,” we might like to say. We think of this sentiment as giving praise to God, but does it really? Are we not suggesting that God somehow loves us more than the other, which is why we’re not down on our luck?

The person in this passage who goes home forgiven, after going to the Temple to pray, is a Tax Collector. As we all know, tax collectors have been despised since the beginning of time. For a tax collector to refer to the self as a “miserable sinner” would be deemed appropriate by most of us. This man, who has gone to the Temple, acts in a manner appropriate to one who has sinned. He dare not look up into the heavens, for that would be the height of arrogance. No, he bowed his head low, as a sign of his contrition for his misdeeds. He beats his breast as a sign of his grief at his actions in life, and asks that God would be merciful to him for he is a mere sinner.

The moral of the story is that those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted. Or as Jesus says elsewhere, the last shall be first, and the first last. So, where is the problem?

Ah, yes, the problem with this text is that Luke contrasts the unrighteous, but forgiven Tax Collector with the self-righteous, but unforgiven, Pharisee. How often do we use the Pharisee as the example of the self-righteous, stuffed shirt, sort? Even with the best of intentions, we can slip into such usage, when in fact, despite the animus seemingly present in the gospels, the Pharisees were devout, broadminded, faithful, tithers even (who wouldn’t want a few of those in a church?). But, by focusing our attention on the “Pharisee,” as a member of a religious party, we might miss something much more important. As Ron Allen and Clark Williamson note in their lectionary commentary, this passage uncovers an attitude that is potentially present in all of us, “the ease with which we turn the love of God into self-adulation, the pride we take in our humility” (Williamson and Allen, Preaching the Gospels without Blaming the Jews, WJK, 2004, p. 243). The parable then confronts us with an attitude that marks many of us, in which we turn God’s unconditional love into “a condition apart from which God is not free to love, a condition that, presumably, we have met but others have not.” The Tax-Collector, on the other hand, had no such allusions that he was the beneficiary of God’s unconditional love, and therefore he didn’t take it for granted or assume that he was on the inside already. Jesus commends him for his willingness to honestly pour out his heart before God, making himself more receptive to God’s unconditional love. May such be true for each of us.

Republished from [D]mergent

Lost and Found -- A Lectionary Meditation

Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28
1 Timothy 1:12-17
Luke 15:1-10

Is there any hope for me? For the world? Or, is all lost? Has a word of judgment been written that cannot be undone? Or, is there the possibility of a second chance? It always grieves me when I hear stories about a young person – usually a teenager – who has committed a gross and heinous crime, and thus deserving a severe sentence, receives the sentence of life without parole. To think of this young person, usually a young man, sitting in prison for the rest of his life is mind-boggling. Surely there has to be some word of hope, some opportunity to be set free?

As I read the lectionary texts this week I hear two very different voices speaking from the text of Scripture. One voice, that of Jeremiah, points to the strong and severe wind that is designed not to winnow or cleanse, but to bring judgment against a foolish and childish people who are without knowledge of God or understanding, a people skilled at evil, but not in doing good. The vision laid out by Jeremiah is one of destruction and desolation – so that the fruitful land is now desert and even the skies are devoid of life. This word of judgment is especially severe, a sort of scorched earth policy. But, what is especially disconcerting is the final word:

“Because of this the earth shall mourn; and the heavens above grow black;

For I have spoken, I have purposed; I have not relented nor will I turn back. (Jer. 4:28).

This word is reminiscent of the sentence handed down by the judge on that young man – life without parole. There is no hope of freedom, for the judge has spoken and will not relent.

The word of Jeremiah may be appalling to some, but it is a word that will ring true in the sentiments of many of our neighbors. If you do the crime, then do the time.

There is, of course, another word emerging from these texts. That this word emerges from the New Testament should not lead us to conclude that the New Testament is more gracious than the Old. One can find strong words of grace in the Hebrew Bible as well as in the New Testament. But in this week’s lection the words of hope appear in the two New Testament readings.

The first word comes from the 1 Letter to Timothy. The presumed author of this letter is Paul, though historical scholarship questions the Pauline authorship of the letter. For this reflection, it may be useful to indulge this presumption, for the story that is present in this first chapter looks back to Paul’s conversion experience. Here he was a strong and severe opponent of the church. He had opposed this new message with all of his might, and yet he had experienced the full force of God’s grace and mercy, so that although he was the chief among all sinners, he had been set free from this sin and now stands as a model to others who would believe. The message is simple, and one “deserving full acceptance: ‘Christ came into the world to save sinners’” (1 Tim. 1:15).

As for the sinners, among whom the author of the letter to Timothy was numbered as the greatest, they are the friends of Jesus. The critics of Jesus pointed out that he kept company with the wrong crowd – tax collectors (who got no respect then either) and sinners.

In response to the grumbling among the more upright citizens, Jesus tells three parables, two of which are found in this week’s lection – the third, the parable of the Prodigal Son must wait for another day to be explored. Two parables, one the describes the efforts undertaken by the shepherd to find the missing lamb, and when the shepherd finds the missing lamb – having essentially abandoned the 99 for the sake of the 1 – he throws a party to celebrate. There is no greater joy in heaven, says Jesus, than when the one who is lost returns to the fold. The second parable tells of a woman who loses a coin, and then after madly looking finds it, and then throws a party – using the rest of her money to celebrate the discovery of the one coin.

The message of Jesus is simple – God’s grace and mercy is extravagant. God will do whatever God must do to bring that which is lost back into the fold, and when the one who is lost is found, there will be a party.

Two words – one of judgment and one of mercy. Both are needed. The first word reminds us that God is concerned about that which is right and good. There are consequences of our actions. At the same time, if that is the last word, then there is no hope for us. This is the good news that emerges from the letter to Timothy and the gospel – “Christ came into the world to save sinners” and the chief among sinners is me. Oh, my, it is good to know that God’s love and mercy are so extravagant that I can find hope for my life. There is parole after all!

 

Reposted from [D]mergent (a Disciples blog)

Table Grace -- A Sermon

Luke 7:36-50

H.L. Mencken described a Puritan as a "person with a haunting fear that someone, somewhere is happy."1 Unfortunately that description could apply to many Christian communities. Churches are often places of discord, abuse, and fountains of hate, even though this stands in contrast to Jesus’s message of grace, love and forgiveness. This attitude is often enabled by a legalism that is contrary to Jesus’ message of freedom, healing, and acceptance.

Unfortunately, this reality has led large numbers of people to conclude that the church of Jesus Christ is the last place to go if you’re looking for a word of hope or happiness. The word on the street is that churches are places of ostracism, exclusion, and condemnation, where no one dares to laugh, lest they offend God and their neighbor. I hope that’s not true here, but that’s the reputation we must deal with!

1. AN INVITATION TO DINNER

This reputation of legalism and exclusiveness isn’t new. You see it on display in the attitudes of Simon the Pharisee and his friends, who are sharing a meal with Jesus, as they responded to a woman who enters their meeting without an invitation. But, not only wasn’t she on the guest list, but she was a known sinner; a woman who lived across the tracks and down the back alley. It’s possible that some of the people in that room knew her by more than reputation, but they would never admit to it. Yes, whatever it was that she had done in life, she now lived as an outcast. She was a persona non grata – a person without grace.

When she entered the room, she went over to where Jesus lay at table and knelt before him. As she knelt down, she began to weep uncontrollably, bathing his feet with her tears. Then, perhaps unconsciously, she unloosened her hair, something no woman did in polite company, and began to dry his feet with her hair. Finally she began to kiss his feet and anoint them with the costly perfume she had brought with her in an alabaster jar. These actions, not just those of the woman, but those of Jesus as well, scandalized Simon. How could Jesus, he wondered out loud, let this sinner, this unclean person, touch him like that? It was unseemly, even obscene. Here, he was supposedly a prophet of God, allowing himself to be touched by an unclean woman. Surely no self-respecting prophet would let such a thing happen.

2. THE STORY

Simon’s outburst, led to a brief story. Jesus responded to Simon by telling him a parable about two debtors. One man had been five-hundred denarii, which was a lot of money, and the other had received fifty denarii. Now, fifty is quite a bit of money – maybe two months’ salary, but it’s nothing in comparison to the 500, which might be equal to a couple of year’s salary. When it came time to repay the debt, neither of these borrowers could repay, and so the lender forgave the debts rather than casting the men into debtors’ prison. Then, Jesus asked Simon: "Which of them will love him more?" With reluctance Simon admitted that it was the one who owed the most who loved the most.

Yes the woman was a sinner, but so was Simon. The only difference was that she recognized this fact, perhaps because her sins might have been more obvious. So, it would seem that since she had been forgiven more, she loved more. Simon, believing he was sin-free and pious, had little use for the woman or forgiveness. And therefore, unlike her, he had no need to show gratitude to God or anyone else.

The woman’s actions seemed scandalous, but not only were they acts of gratitude, they contrasted strongly with the actions or lack thereof of Simon. You see, Simon had invited Jesus to dinner, but he failed to act as a proper host. That’s because a proper host greets the guest with a kiss and anoints with oil. The host also makes sure that the guest’s feet are washed. Simon didn’t do any of this for Jesus, but this “sinful” woman did what Simon refused to do.

You see, Simon’s problem was that, like us, he had different categories of sin. So, he concluded that whatever sins he might have committed, they were nothing compared to the sins of this woman. She was impure, perhaps even a woman of ill repute. But Jesus responded to his unspoken sentiment by saying: "those who are forgiven little, love little" (vs. 47).

3. THE TABLE OF GRACE

Well, I’ve been in the church all my life, and I’ve seen the “good, the bad, and the ugly” in the church. I’ve seen families disown their children in the name of God, and I’ve heard Christian leaders utter racial slurs and speak hatefully of others. I’ve seen churches split over such little things as the color of the carpet or the doors. I wish I could say that I wasn’t part of the problem, but I know I’m as guilty as anyone else. Certainly, God is weeping at seeing us fight, gossip, and defaming others. Perhaps we’ve not yet understood the message of grace. Perhaps we’ve not understood the depths of our own sinfulness, and the promise of forgiveness. And, so because we think we have little to be forgiven of, we show very little love to others, especially those who are different from us.

As we come to the Table of the Lord this morning, it’s appropriate to confess to God that we are sinners in need of forgiveness and grace. It’s also important to remember that the table isn’t just for the saints. It’s also for sinners. If this isn’t true, then none of us would have the right to come to the table.

The good news is that the Table of the Lord is truly a place where sinners gather to receive a word of grace and comfort. Bread and Cup are signs of Jesus' body and blood, which beckon us forward so we can find peace, hope, and joy. This is a table of grace that’s open to anyone who recognizes the need for that grace. It doesn't matter what you’re wearing or how you look or even how much money you make. In welcoming both the woman and Simon, Jesus welcomes all of us into his family.

It may sometimes seem like we’ve heard this message of forgiveness one too many times. Shouldn’t we have already gotten the message, so that we can move onto bigger and better things? Simon’s response to this woman, who entered his home without an invitation, reminds us that we can never hear this message too often. Indeed, it is this message of forgiveness and grace that will allow us to live out our core value of acceptance. As a church we’re able to accept others, because we’ve already been accepted by God.

This is a message that requires more from us than mere assent. It is, as William Willimon writes:

For Jesus, forgiveness is not some doctrine to be believed; rather, it is a feast to be received, a party to which the outcasts are invited, a gift to be received with empty hands. So Jesus not only tells a parable at the table, he becomes a parable, a sign to us of what God is up to in the world. In Jesus, God is busy inviting the whole world to the table.2

The invitation has been given to everyone who will hear and receive it: Come to the table and enjoy the bounteous grace of God, for your sins are forgiven, and you have been saved. Go in peace.

1. Quoted in Philip Yancey, What's So Amazing about Grace? (Zondervan, 1997), 29
2. William Willimon, Pulpit Resource, 29 (April, May, June 2001): 53. 

Preached by:
Dr. Robert D. Cornwall
Pastor, Central Woodward Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)
Troy, MI
Third Sunday after Pentecost
June 13, 2010