easter sermon

This week is, of course, a week of preparation.  While my blogging has been quite slow for the last few days, I have been at work making preparations for the extra services, communion and meditations which will get going tomorrow night.  This is a fruitful time of year (one that I greatly enjoy each time through), but nevertheless a process which wears me out.  It was thus a wonderful break to get this in the mail today - from my mom (mum for Tilling) no less!

[front]

[inside]

Admittedly, I am tempted to use this one. . .

evaluations

One of the conditions of teaching as an adjunct at the university is that they require every class undergo semester evaluations toward the end of term.  This was somewhat exciting when I first began, but has quickly deteriorated into a chore which has so many holes in the process that only a few good indicators can be reached.  For instance, when you consider the questions and the approach and the fact that the mind-set of *evaluations* to college students simply implies negative critique, much of the feedback is simply I-didn't-like-this-one-statement-taken-from-a-sea-of-information-and-knowledge-from-which-I-will-otherwise-benefit-and-grow.

I'm not saying that I receive necessarily bad reviews.  In fact, I have been overly pleased with the last two semesters in particular.  But one of my first rounds at this I opened up my printed results and found comments which were scathing and quite personal.  Fortunately, there was an obvious lack of substance and (therefore) credibility to them.  Still, ranting aside, I do enjoy some of the perspectives offered:

From a class on the Psalms:

"This class became boring.  All we did was study the psalms."

[no comment]

From an intro to the Bible course:

". . .teach it like an intro course like the other professor"

[translation = I had to do more homework than my roommate]

"Does he enjoy teaching?  Seems bitter."

[yes to both]

"he good."

[indication = I haven't taken English comp. yet]

". . .trying to read and do the ridiculously long 10 page paper required. . ."

[hoped 2 txt their way thru college]

These are just a few of the more enjoyable ones.  Before you think that all is lost on my quest to corrupt young impressionable minds, this same batch thanked the professor for the wonderful semester six times!  It is what it is.

misgivings

One of the local papers runs a column on the religion page every week that cycles around to many of the pastors in the area. I found out (quite late in the game) that my turn is up this week. Since I've nothing better to post, I provide it here.

And what has happened to all of those wonderful Christmas gifts which were given only a few months ago?  I am often curious to know if what was received turned out to be as good as expected.  Most often, it is not.  Still, we continue through each year with great anticipation for those certain treasures which will quickly lose their shininess and routinely break their promise of fulfillment.

Did you get everything you wanted?  Were you taken by surprise?  Perhaps you received something which you didn't want in the first place!  Such a pathetic state is not reserved for little boys who are forced to unwrap socks and underwear.  The cycle of gift-giving is filled with all sorts of emotion and reaction.  And perhaps that is what makes it so much fun, and disappointing.  Whenever we raise our expectations there exists the possibility of disenchantment, which introduces the obnoxiously long lines in the post-holiday world.

It has been said that this whole cycle of giving began as a way of commemorating the first Christmas gift - a little child who would be the hope of the world.  Perhaps we might ask ourselves: What has happened to this present?  Certainly the world is no more peaceful or safe or pleasant; it is still hard to muster up any good will toward one another.  Indeed, what has happened to the little child who would be the hope of the world?

As you well know, babies grow up and become adults.  There was no exception with this little child, and many people who weren't his mother thought he was quite special.  Many considered him to be the hope of the world, and expected him to bring healing and freedom.  As his popularity grew, those who had never thought that they could be winners in the world began to believe that the world could be a new place with new life.

One particular day (a Sunday by our calendar), this man came to Jerusalem, the center of Jewish faith and government and whatever else was going on.  For those who were clinging to hope this was a day of celebration because they expected this man to overthrow the political rulers and set up a new kingdom.  But when he didn't do this, their victorious palm-waving turned into outrage - a gift of hope which didn't look like what they expected.

Even though it didn't look familiar, there was a certain revolution underway.  For this man opened doors to life and tore down curtains of separation between us and our Creator - obstacles which shouldn't have been there in the first place.  This is so much more than setting up a new king or governor.  It is changing the world.

To some, this man is the gift that was never requested, but greatly received.  To others he is the gift that was given but never wanted.  To everyone who is brave enough to open this gift and look directly at it, he is the gift that fulfills all our wants and our needs.  He is Jesus.  And for centuries past and centuries to come we will rediscover this Easter present is indeed the most perfect Christmas gift.