Under Construction
Awaiting technical support to fix the broken images
Esgetology is going dark indefinitely. I simply have lost interest in blogging. Esgetology started as a place to publish my sermons, but I’m planning on moving that to our church’s website. I may still publish from time to time at Historic Lectionary, and watch for the renovation of Immanuel’s website.
For now, I’m going to leave this site up. Maybe I’ll come back, maybe not. (If the ol’ gunslinger can say that stuff, why can’t I?) Either way, our big blue graveyard will keep spinning until the parousia.
It is not without reason that the apostles speak so often about this duty of love which the philosophers call “leniency.” This virtue is necessary for the preservation of domestic tranquillity, which cannot endure unless pastors and churches overlook and forgive many things.
-Apology IV (Tappert)
The secret to living a good news life in a bad news world is learning both to lay down our burdens upon Christ and the gathered community (the Church), and, in turn, to take up the burdens of others gathered there.
-Matthew Harrison, A Little Book on Joy
My friend, Pastor Weedon, is very wise. In his sermon for Oculi 2009, he mentioned an aspect of the gospel (Luke 11:14-28) I hadn’t picked up on before:
For you see, another obstacle you will face if you are at all serious in following Christ is this: people will bad mouth you. They will speak against you, attribute false motives to you, and suggest that far from following the true God, you’re actually doing the work of the devil. Our Lord made it clear that we should expect nothing less: “Blessed are you when they revile you and persecute you and say all kinds of evil against you falsely for My sake.”
It’s true; in the church the devil stirs up slanderers. That’s who Satan is: the slanderer. At first their slander stings, then it continues burning, long and slow, damaging the soul with bitterness. The only thing to do is to end it where Jesus ends is, in a discussion of his blessed mother: “Blessed are those who hear the word of God and keep it!” Hanging on to that Word is all that matters. Jesus took far worse slander, and bore it patiently.
The following is an article I wrote for our parish’s newsletter, Tidings, published in March 2010.
A favorite Lenten hymn of many is “My Song Is Love Unknown.” It’s one of my wife’s favorites, too, and I remember fondly one year while we lived in Illinois Kassie suggesting we work at memorizing it during Lent. We would sing it at home, and then see how much we could recite while taking our early-morning walk (another thing we should probably revive!). It has a haunting melody, although I must confess the opening notes always makes me think of Tom Petty’s “You Got Lucky,” which is not exactly appropriate Lenten material.
One line from the hymn has increasingly bothered me, however. In the fifth stanza the hymn sings of Christ, “Yet cheerful He To suffering goes That He His foes From thence might free.” My understanding of the Passion narratives is that Jesus was anything but cheerful as He went to the cross for us. “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death” (Mt. 26:38), Jesus told His disciples in the garden of Gethsemane, shortly before He was arrested. When He prayed there, He said, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me” (Mt. 26:39). Hardly the words of someone going cheerfully! Luke’s Gospel is explicit about the demeanor of our Lord at the beginning of His Passion: “And being in agony [Jesus] prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground” (Lk. 22:44). Thus I have never been able to reconcile the cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” with the idea of a cheerful Jesus going to suffering.
Long had I assumed this was just an error in translation, but the original text is in fact English. It was written by Samuel Crossman, an English clergyman who lived c. 1624-1683. He served for awhile simultaneously as pastor of both a Church of England congregation and a Puritan congregation. This caused him to be expelled from the Church of England in 1662, although he was later restored in 1665.
Perhaps the word cheerful had different nuances in the seventeenth century. I don’t have the resources at my disposal to research that. But a glance at the American Heritage Dictionary may provide some aid and comfort. The first meaning of cheerful, “Being in good spirits, merry” is how I have been thinking of the term in this context, as is the second: “Promoting a feeling of cheer; pleasant.” It’s the third definition that intrigues: “Reflecting willingness or good humor.” The cross was no Monty Python event (“Always look on the bright side of life, do doot, do doot, do doot do doot do doot!”). But Jesus was most definitely willing, or rather, submissive to the will of the Father: “Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done” (Lk. 22:42). “For this reason the Father loves me,” Jesus said, “because I lay down my life that I may take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord” (Jn. 10:17-18). So, when Peter takes up arms to defend Jesus, the Lord rebuked him, citing his complete acceptance of the Father’s will: “Put your sword into its sheath; shall I not drink the cup that the Father has given me?” (Jn. 18:11).
Rest assured (Greg H., I’m talking to you), we will certainly continue to sing this hymn. Lutheran Service Book appoints it for the hymn of the day on Judica (Lent V), and I like to sing it on Palm Sunday as well. But when you sing, “Cheerful He to suffering goes,” remember that the whipping, nails, spitting and thorns were not cheerful business. Jesus was not in good spirits or merry. But He was most definitely willing, because it was the only way we could be redeemed, forgiven, saved from death and everlasting hell. Another Lenten hymn expresses that so beautifully: “Yes, Father, yes, most willingly I’ll bear what You command Me. My will conforms to Your decree, I’ll do what You have asked Me” (LSB 438, “A Lamb Goes Uncomplaining Forth”). And that should make us Christians cheerful indeed!
Your unworthy undershepherd,
+Pastor Esget
I was looking for this Luther quote the other day and couldn’t find it. Entirely unrelated, I was just reading in The Lutheran Study Bible on Job 36 and Serendipity!
When sadness comes to you and threatens to gain the upper hand, then say: Come, I must play our Lord Christ a song on the organ (be it the Te Deum laudamus or the Benedictus); for Scripture teaches me that He loves to hear joyful song and stringed instruments. and strike the keys with a will, and sing out until the thoughts disappear, as David and Elisha did. If the devil returns and suggests cares or sad thoughts, then defend yourself with a will and say: Get out, devil, I must now sing and play to my Lord Christ.
I’ve long struggled with how to manage the things I consider important which often get relegated to the side (praying, studying, spending significant time preparing for preaching and teaching) for more “urgent” tasks (wave after wave of email, paper, unnecessary meetings, interruptions for things that don’t actually require a pastor). When I first became a pastor, I tried doing the method I’d developed during college and seminary: block out my day hour by hour, and assign myself working times around my classes and work schedule. Only, by then I was married, the phone rang a lot, and people were coming by that I hadn’t planned for. I’m sure I was rude to a lot of people because I saw them as interruptions to my work, instead of part of my work as a pastor.
So I tried Outlook. If I just prioritize my tasks and assign deadlines to everything, it’ll all get done, right? Nope. And by the time I came to Virginia in 2001, email was becoming part of the daily fabric of my life. I thought if I got a smartphone (first a Treo, now an iPhone), surely then I’d be able to keep up with the flood. Wrong again. Somehow I managed to teach myself German, write an STM thesis and finish that degree, but I have felt like I’m perpetually behind and under the gun for more than a decade, and it seems I never return phone calls and emails fast enough. Sometimes it makes me very miserable.
I came across these gems earlier this week, and it has caused me to reevaluate the entire way I work.
Prioritizing by Importance
Prioritizing by importance is a cause of bad time management, not a cure for it! Just how impressed would you be if your new car didn’t have wing mirrors because the factory thought the engine was more important than the wing mirrors? If it needs to be done, then it needs to be done, period.Prioritizing by Urgency
Ok, so we sometimes have real emergencies which need an immediate response. You will recognise these when they happen – you don’t need to sit down and allocate them a priority. But let’s face it, all your other “urgent priorities” are only urgent because you have left them to the last minute. And why have you left them to the last minute? – because you are prioritizing by urgency, that’s why!
I’ve tried for several years to adopt the “Getting Things Done” methodology, and using appropriate tools such as OmniFocus to implement it. It just hasn’t worked for me. Perhaps it’s the way my mind works, or my own unique situation, but I miss far too many deadlines, or end up working significant parts of my time off catching up on the things I would have liked to have done during the working hours (e.g., the “Saturday Night Special,” a sermon written on Saturday night, which rarely comes out well).
The above quotations are from Mark Forster, and his Autofocus time management systems might actually be far better suited for the way I work. I used to be far more productive with just a sheet of paper and a pen, and I’m going to try employing a paper-like method on my iPhone. No complicated programs or syncing. No endless categorizing and creating views and perspectives. I’m going to give it a serious try the next few weeks. Surely it can’t be worse than the monumental failure that is everything else I’ve tried.
I was reading about Samuel Crossman, the author of the text to the popular Lenten hymn “My Song Is Love Unknown,” and I came across this gem about the value of poetry and hymnody as conveyors of the Faith:
A verse may find him whom a sermon flies.
-Lutheran Worship: Hymnal Companion, p99
Dearly beloved, we have entered the season of Lent, a time for solemnity, fasting, lamenting our sins, and meditating on the sufferings of our Lord Jesus. Yet today is the festival of St. Matthias, thus no weeping is allowed on this day, for it is a day of joy and gladness, when we remember the number of the Apostles being filled.
The Acts of the Apostles which we heard read tells us that “The company of persons was in all about 120.” 12 x 10. Twelve, the number of the tribes of Israel, multiplied by ten, a number of completeness. These 120 were new Israel. Yet they were incomplete. Only eleven of the original twelve chosen disciples remained. Judas, the son of perdition, was lost. On this day we remember him too, with deep sorrow. His memory serves as a warning that we too, who are numbered among the disciples of Jesus, can fall and be lost. read more…
He exhausted his body by mortification to make his spirit subject to the Crucified.
-Clement of Alexandria, on St. Matthias (from Pius Parsch, The Church’s Year of Grace, vol. II, p377)
