CMC Scripture and Sermon 110622 from Gwen Reiser on Vimeo.

Sermon | Chief Lawrence Hart and the sacred ground we share

Text: Matthew 5:13-16; 38-48

Speaker: Joel Miller

After the funeral service and burial the mourners gather in the community center for a large meal – beef, fry bread, and other favorites.  As everyone is eating the family gathers around the pile of gifts.  These are not gifts they have received, but gifts they will give out.  It’s the giveaway, the traditional Cheyenne practice of honoring those who have been part of their life. 

The first to receive the gifts are chiefs who led the singing and prayers during the ceremony, then others who played a part in the service.  Then everyone in attendance.  People are called forward by name.  Gifts are given.  Hugs and condolences exchanged.  A final call for anyone who has not yet received a gift to come forward and share in the thanksgiving.

In earlier times the giveaway had served to share with those in need, making sure everyone in the community had enough.  It had evolved into a practice of showing honor and gratitude – Like a photographic negative of how we do birthday parties and baby showers.  Here it’s the host who gives out the gifts in appreciation for the guests’ presence in their lives. 

In the early settlement years the giveaway had been banned by the US government for five decades.  It was seen as uncivilized, disregarding the values of private property and wealth accumulation, anti-capitalistic.  But the Cheyenne found ways to keep the practice alive.  It was alive and well at the funeral of Chief Lawrence Hart who died earlier this year at the age of 89, eight months ago today, March 6, 2022.  The Cheyenne…

CMC Scripture and Sermon 10/30/22 from Gwen Reiser on Vimeo.

Music credits:

Soul Work. Text & Music: Phil Hart, 2021. Used with permission.

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CMC Scripture and Sermon 10/23/2022 from Gwen Reiser on Vimeo.

The video includes the scripture and the sermon.

Sermon | Locusts and swords, dreams and visions
Text: Joel 1:1-7; 2:21-31
Speaker: Joel Miller
 

Of the 150+ Sundays in the three-year lectionary cycle, exactly one includes a passage from the book of Joel.  I take no personal offense at this.  I’ve always liked that my biblical namesake is considered to be one of the “minor prophets.”  It does take some of the pressure off.  Or as fellow CMCer Joel Call recently said of the name, it’s like an indy label.  I’m waiting for his band “Joel and the minor prophets.”  Add in small business owner Joel Copeland, and we’re kind of everywhere around here.          

One of my first Bible memory verses of my own choosing was Joel chapter 1 verse 1.  “The word of the Lord came to Joel, son of Pethuel.”  I had no idea who Pethuel was, and still don’t, but I kind of liked the sound of the word of the Lord coming to Joel.  With that and John 11:35, “Jesus wept,” I was pretty sure there were at least two Bible verses I could remember word for word.

Of the many times I’ve preached through the lectionary, I don’t think I’ve ever focused on the three-chapter book of Joel.  So today is the day.  It’s a much less daunting task to do in one sermon than, say, the book of Mark.  

If you’ve been around church a while, chances are you’ve heard this prophet referenced.  Every Pentecost Sunday we read from Acts chapter 2.  The story takes place about 50 days after Jesus’ death and resurrection, after his ascension, when a group of Jesus followers are all gathered together in Jerusalem.  Suddenly…

The video above includes the full service, except for the time for sharing.

Permission to podcast/stream the music in this service obtained through One License with license A-727859. Copyrights for songs given after the sermon text.

Itching Ears

Scripture: 2 Timothy 3:14-4:4

I was asked if I would give a short meditation today as part of our hymn-sing service, but my hope is to leave space for as much singing as we can possibly fit into these precious few minutes of our Sunday morning together. A hymn-sing is a great day to continue exploring my sabbatical theme of creativity and spirituality, so I looked to the lectionary to see if any of the texts for today fit that theme. The one I chose might seem like an odd choice, but there was something about these words to Timothy that I couldn’t quite shake as I thought about what it means to practice faith from a place of creativity and expression. 

This is one of the many books in the Bible attributed to Paul but which most scholars believe was not written directly by him. What’s more, many scholars also believe that by the time this letter was written, the person named Timothy would have been long dead. So, this letter is what one commentator calls a work of “epistolary fiction.” The names of Paul and Timothy are used as stand-ins to provide rhetorical weight to the author’s goals of instructing the churches.

It’s religious fan-fiction that somehow got incorporated into the official canon of scripture. In the last few years, it seems like there has been an explosion in the use of the word “canon” as fans of various book series, movies, or comics argue over what counts as officially part of the story and what can…

CMC Worship 10_9_22 from Gwen Reiser on Vimeo.

The video above includes the full service, except for the time for sharing.

Permission to podcast/stream the music in this service obtained through One License with license A-727859. Copyrights for songs given after the sermon text.

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Sermon 
Healing, feeling | 9 October 2022      
1 Kings 5:1-3,9-14; Luke 17:11-19
Speaker: Joel Miller

Resmaa Menakem begins his book My Grandmother’s Hands by telling a story about just that – the hands of his maternal grandmother.  When he was young, he and his grandma would curl up together on the couch when they watched TV.  Because she often felt pain in her hands, she would ask Resmaa to massage her hands in his.  As he did this, he would notice how broad her fingers were on her small body, with thick callouses on each thumb.  One day he asked her why her hands were like this.  She replied that when she was his age the family was sharecroppers and she had picked cotton.  The sharp cotton burr would tear the skin on her hands.  But the more years she picked, the thicker her hands became until she could pull out the cotton without bleeding.  It had been a while since she had brushed her hands up against those burrs, but the body’s response to their sharp edges remained, right there in her hands, held within the hands of young Resmaa (p. 4).  

The subtitle of the book is “Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies” and the image of his grandmother’s hands serves the message Menakem returns to time and again: Racialized trauma and the myth of White supremacy is held not so much in our minds as a collection of ideas that can…