The Horror

Yes, I spend too much time watching TV.  And yes, I know it is not a favorite genre.  But Halloween approaches.  And horror happens to be the genre that speaks to fears and anxieties we can’t always express.  And in doing so walks on profoundly Christian ground – you might even say Holy Ground.  And we happen to be in the midst of something of a golden age of Horror film.

First of all I’m not talking about Freddy or Jason or the jump scare schlock that 16 year olds used to like to use as the excuse to get close at a drive-in.  Some of that stuff does still get made, but that version of horror was never a real fright. Neither am I talking about a monster of the week series about hunting Bigfoot or the Mothman or a Chupacabra.  I’m thinking about movies like the recent Backrooms, Obsession, the Nosferatu remake or maybe the start of this It Follows. Likewise the works of Mike Flanagan like The Haunting of Hill House, Midnight Mass and his series TV vision of Carrie.

Now Pastor, what the heck could a nice Christian find in any of that?  Well, the first thing I’d say is that a recognition that there are more things in creation than are dreamt of in our philosophy is dawning on people. Nosferatu makes it rather explicit.  Everyone associated with poor Ellen Hutter either dismisses her thrall to the Vampire or tries to treat is with the most advanced scientific technology that cutting edge Germany could offer. When all that technology has to offer fails.  And when they go outside of pure technology reaching for occultist psychology, it too fails. What do they do?  What is the only thing that kills the vampire and prevents the fall of the entire area?  Ellen’s willing sacrifice of herself, her blood, holding the vampire until the Sun rises. There is power in the blood.  Backrooms has something of the same theme.  People stumble upon a strange parallel world of hallways and rooms that look like abandoned offices or the backrooms of a zombie mall. It’s all the parts of the world that our scientific buffered selves (thank you Charles Taylor) have cut off and say don’t exist.  But just because we’ve put them in the buffer, doesn’t mean they aren’t there.  In that movie they all get lost in the backrooms.  It is an interesting question whether the moral would be keep up your personal buffers, or something like the backrooms can’t grow and cause such fright and obsession if we kept ourselves more porous – the phrase Charles Taylor in a Secular Age uses to contrast with the buffered self.

There is this thing called the uncanny valley.  Most fakes ended up on the wrong side of it.  You could tell they were fake although the closer they were the more nervous you became.  Think the pod-people from the Body Snatchers. But AI seems to have crossed that uncanny valley.  Even a year ago it was still easy to say “that’s AI.” Today?  Have you tried chatting with one?  I can see why there are people who think it has a soul.  And since we have exiled the vocabulary and structure – good theology – with which we could talk about such things, we get the horror.  Our anxiety and fear about things we don’t have the words to describe anymore.  The artists are struggling to recover the words or as the internet joke about sex and marriage goes – recreate them from first principles. And it always starts in horror.  When you all of a sudden realize that you are naked in the middle of a dark garden and something is walking in it.

Last thought about this.  Horror artistically is like repentance is to faith.  It is the first step.  And you don’t know what comes next.  Does that thing walking out there seek to destroy me? Or does it love me?  Key horror themes. Some horror ends on Holy Ground when you are saved by an act of love.  When God shows up in whatever form he takes.  In some the characters choose poorly and the monsters do eat them. As Paul says – work out your faith with fear and trembling.

Confronting Fears at the Tomb

Biblical Text: Mark 16:1-8

So much of Easter is the Hymns. I hate chopping them out, but the truth is they just don’t record as well. The place is not mic’ed up for that. But when the text of the day is Mark’s Easter account, you get to preach on something unique. Mark has the two Mary’s and Salome running from the tomb in fear. And that is where the gospel ends. (The early sermon examines that.) But that ending has a deep existential meaning to all of us. We are all confronted with a couple of fears. The obvious one is fear of death. But without dismissing the dread that creep up, you get to a certain age, you’ve made your peace. But the other one is fear of not being in control. Coming face to face with a man who controls death and who has something for you to do is running right into our lack of control. It is also running into the answer to that. That is the fear Easter addresses in Mark, but we all have to make a decision about that. The sermon expands on that.

Liminal Time

There is a word I love – liminal. Yes, nobody knows what it means. Or, you all do, just not as that word, but as a gut feeling. It means a sensory threshold. A liminal sound would be one that you can barely hear.  A liminal vision is that one just on the horizon.  But my favorite use, and probably its most common use, is in regards to things of the Spirit. A liminal space is that sense of walking on holy ground, or the other way might be “walking past the graveyard.” A liminal time is usually only noticed in hindsight. My middle child is in something of one right now in college applications.  As an old guy I can recognize it.  For him, it just expresses itself as procrastination. That’s a common way to know you are in a liminal state, you procrastinate.  You are trying to stay in the known, not willing to give way to the unknown just yet.  Liminal states are necessarily scary, because what is on the other side is unknown or at least unexperienced.

Advent for me has always been a liminal time.  The old year is passing away; the new thing is coming.  You have things like congregational meetings.  You prepare budgets. Officers are renewed.  In the church year sense the old has already passed away, but Advent is a strange season even on the church calendar.  It was added as a season of preparation for the staggering mystery of the incarnation.  Sometimes that preparation was penitential.  John the Baptist appears twice in Advent with his calls to repent and warnings about what is to come. I often try to imagine what a John the Baptist would look like today and usually fail to come up with anything convincing.  The Baptist is a liminal figure proclaiming things are about to change dramatically, repent in preparation. That penitential sense is usually captured in the purples of the season.  But the liminal nature of Advent to me is not so much about those purples, which are constant in this life, as about the blues. They are the blues of right before dawn.  It is still night, but the sun is just below the horizon.  As we sang at the end of last Sunday, “The King Shall Come When Morning Dawns.”

And that is what the historic text for the first Sunday of Advent shows us, Jesus on Palm Sunday entering Jerusalem.  Anytime the King arrives it is a liminal space because the King has absolute authority. His word is law.  But approaching the King is always scary because you don’t know the ruling.  But that is part of why Jesus presents himself twice.  The first time humbly, riding a donkey.  The first time toward the cross, which addresses all our sins, so that we know the judgement.  The second time to set us free.  To set us free from those sins that still encumber us.  To set us free from our fears of this liminal space.

Advent is the season we ponder living in a liminal space. Knowing and seeing what is on the horizon – the judgement and the New Jerusalem, the King arriving in power not grace. Yet, that dawn is not yet.  Today is still the day of grace. Today the King still comes humbly, as a little child, as that knocking at your heart.  It is a liminal space that says “repent and believe, for you salvation comes quickly.” A liminal space that reminds us “all idols than shall perish and Satan’s lying cease, and Christ shall raise his scepter, decreeing endless peace.” A Great and Mighty wonder lies just beyond this liminal time.   

3 AM

Just when you think the bible is giving you shallow travel directions it opens up a deep picture.  The Gospel reading this week (Matthew 14:22-33) starts with those travel directions. The crowds have been fed, but as the disciples had remarked earlier, it is late in the day.  Even later after 5000 have eaten. And Jesus knows what the crowds want to do – make him king.  So, “Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side.”  And, “after he dismissed the crowds, he went up on the mountain by himself.” How exactly does Jesus dismiss the crowd that wants to make him King?  We don’t know.  Why does he force the disciples into the boat?  Maybe because they would have been just as much caught up in making him king, but we don’t know.  But if we stop to ponder the scene, it is quite a view of the Christian life.

First, Jesus has sent us out at night onto the chaos of the waters. And somehow this is for our good.  Even though we might end up “a long way from the land, beaten by the waves, and the wind was against them, in the fourth watch of the night.” That fourth watch is the metaphorical 3 AM. If you are a horror fan, you know everything bad happens at 3 AM. If you are a worrier or an insomniac, and you are up at 3 AM, it has not been a good day or night and neither will the fast approaching day be good. We know what this feels like.  It is dark and we are exhausted and all the creepies come out.  Why did you send me to this place alone?

But the second part is the recognition that we are never really alone. Jesus on the mountain top – with apparently Moses’ 120 year old eagle eyes – has them on his disciples. Mark’s gospel is explicit, “he saw they were making headway painfully (Mark 6:48).” The eyes of God are always upon those he loves. And his compassion – his guts being churned – are not just for the crowds.  “In the fourth watch of the night he came to them walking on the sea.”  The chaos and darkness of the sea have no power over this one.  He walks on them. What are our reactions when God acts? 

The first one, “they were terrified and said ‘it is a ghost!’”  We expect the bad.  We expect the creepies that have come out to finish us off.  This is what the world does; it finishes off the weak and exhausted. Of course lurking in the background there is that saying it is a ghost is easier than saying “our deliverance has come.” Because if what comes to us at 3 AM is God, that comes with demands, with strings attached.  Not the least being that he has witnessed our state.  Jesus answers all this with the affirmative, “Take heart; It is I.” And yes, our translators wimp out. “Take Heart, I AM.”  The Almighty has been watching and has come for you.

The second one, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Ok God, I’m not sure about this, so tell me to get out of this perfectly good boat you placed me in, and walk by myself over the chaos to you.  Yeah, we don’t think too good at 3 AM. But Jesus goes with it, maybe for the same reason he sent them in the first place. Of course we were not meant to be on the waters outside of the boat. And that is not because we can’t.  Peter does manage it for a couple of steps.  But then we always “see the wind” and the fear returns.

So what does Jesus do?  Grabs Peter, puts him back in the boat, and joins the rest, who all then worship him.  We are meant to be in the boat (please see the church). We are meant to be with each other.  And yes the boat is sent out on rough seas, but God sees it.  And Christ comes and is with us and the winds cease. When we see God at 3 AM, we know.  He has not sent us out alone, and He Is.

Two Doomsday Questions

Biblical Text: Luke 21:5-28

The last two Sundays of the church year usually are given over the “last things”. The old word for last things is doomsday which is just Old English Judgement Day. The text for this week is Jesus talking about the Temple. That temple represents everything of the Jewish world. Everything it meant to have a Jewish identity was tied up in that temple. And Jesus is just going to walk out of it. The disciples try and call him back to it. “See the marvelous stones and the offerings?” Jesus replies not a stone will be let on top of another. The entire Jewish identity will come down. That causes shock and two questions from the disciples.

This is remarkably relevant to our situation today. We are lost in conversations about identity. We build identities on some good things, some pretty lies, and some sins. Even the good things can be an idol in the Temple. This sermon thinks about doomsday, identity and the two questions the disciples asked.

Future Opportunity

Biblical Text: Genesis 1:1-5

This sermon is a bit more philosophical that I typically get. It is also leaning of a work of systematic or dogmatic theology I’ve been reading by the Lutheran theologian Robert Jenson. Classic theology is build around what in Latin are loci. In English it is much less impressive, merely subjects of focus. And the classic first loci is God.

There is a blatant problem with that. Absent revelation we can know nothing about God. Most everybody would disagree with that. That is the inspiration for every rational and forced mystic quest for God. It is the thinking behind “seeking”. And all those quests seem to have the same goal, to get under or behind or beneath our existence to the eternal timeless reality. But the God of revelation is not timeless; He is the creator of time.

This sermon invites us not to be driven by fear into seeking some unchanging reality, but to hear Jesus is risen as the invitation to a way through time, through God’s good creation from alpha to omega.

Things May Not Be This Way

Biblical Text: Matthew 10:21-33

Sometimes you have one of those spooky encounters. This includes mine floating in a pool a few years ago. But the points is about the warning and the blessing of being a follower of Jesus. The warning could cause fear, a little like my story. But it shouldn’t, because the blessing is so much greater.

I also left in a great hymn at the end that captures everything. LSB 836

15 Minutes of Advent

Biblical Text: Micah 5:2-5

The curse and blessing of a liturgical church. When everybody else has already moved on to Christmas, maybe they’ve been on it for a month, we are still in Advent. The day is often given over to Mary and the magnificat. There is a great recording of our choir singing one of those here. But I’ve been spending time with the minor prophets this season. We’ve been taking them in bible class, and I felt I had to bring one into the pulpit. One more day of blue and purple. One more day of the penitential and the hopeful. Grant me 15 minutes of Advent on this 4 Sunday of the season. We’ve got a bakers dozen for Christmas starting tomorrow.

Hearing the Signs, Fearing their Silence

Biblical Text: Mark 7:31-37 (Isaiah 35:4-7)

Full Sermon Draft

This was our “Rally Day” or recognition of the start of School week. (We delay a week typically due to the labor day weekend.) So, there are parts of the service – like the installation of Sunday School teachers, and blessing of backpacks – that I couldn’t get on the recording. Physically we did them down in front where our various mic’s don’t capture too well. That blessing was probably the key to thinking about this sermon unfortunately.

In my head the sermon is an existential one. It points out a common thought, looking up at the night sky and what do you see? There are naive answers, but nobody really holds those long. That is the purpose of the Lion King reference. The existential question of that sky (a sign) is: is their order or is it all just chaos?

The answer revealed to us by the Word of God is that there is an order. In our sinful condition we are like the deaf and mute man in our text, unable to hear the music of the spheres. But Jesus has come to give us back the ability to hear. That same Word that tells us of God’s loving order, opens ears and loosens tongues. And in the application to educating, learning/education/wisdom which is based on that word is a worth endeavor, because God desires to be known just as we are known by Him. The universe makes sense, the foundation of which is revealed to us in the Word of God, so we can grow in Wisdom just like Jesus. It is not the dark forest nor the great filter that haunt our minds when we tune out the music of the spheres.

This Morning Is Different

Biblical Text: Mark 16:1-8
Full Sermon Draft

I didn’t do my normal word cloud for this, instead above is the Icon of Mary Magdalene. She was one of the Mary’s that went to the tomb to spice the body. The icon captures both of those things. In her left is the jar of spice, but in her right is that bright red egg. That egg is a very ancient symbol of the resurrection. That bright red is the blood that bought this day.

The sermon focuses on the uniqueness of Mark. It ends with Mary running from the tomb afraid. It is an existential question. We know what happened with Mary. She took courage and told the others. Mark’s point is a question to us. We’ve seen the empty tomb. We’ve heard the resurrection. It demands we live in hope. Do we take courage? Or do we stay in fear? This Morning is different. Choose to live.