Last Fourth of July I went with a crowd of friends to the show at the Capital, in DC, (who can pass up a chance to see Florence Henderson) and watch the fire works. The Festival of American Folk life was being held on the Mall and my family and I arrived in time to visit the tents celebrating sacred music. We sat down at the end of a set by Caribbean musicians. When they were done a young man in his 20's and a women about my own age took the stage. My mountaineer's sixth sense told me they were West Virginian - they were. They were announced as singers from an a cappella tradition. I know instantly they were from the Church of Christ.

They sang "How Great Thou Art", inviting the crowd to join in, and between the four of us (my wife and I were the only ones to accept the invitation) we covered all the parts. After the song a well dressed, well educated, Miss Jane Hathaway look-alike interviewed then. They were from the Fourteen Mile Church of Christ in Lincoln County, West Virginia. As a boy preacher I spoke at the Ten Mile Church (as you have guessed, just four miles away) The lady was fascinated that they instinctively sung harmony so well. She asked then how they learned this. The singer explained how Churches of Christ have congregational singing, how you grow up learning the songs and the parts by heart. They sang "Bright Morning Stars are Rising", which I love because the base line is like a Bach continua. She saw their a Capella singing as a national treasure - like Grandma Moses Painting, and Amish quilt, or a Shaker Chair.

Unfortunately no one was there to explain to the lady that the Churches of Christ aren't just a bunch of Shaped-note-singing hicks from West Virginia, or Texas, or Oklahoma anymore. No one told her we're headed boldly into the 21st Century. We have web-sites. We're Quickly outgrowing the narrow opinion that restricted our sacred music to congregational, and a capella singing. The winds of renewal are blowing. No one was there to explain that to the lady with the tailored suit, and the ivy league intonations, so you and I wouldn't be embarrassed.

I am glad.

I am glad because the audience was left with a music that was completely other, that was ancient. I was glad that the lady was told how the early church sang that way. I was glad because the singers, and their songs were unique - the way salt and light are unique.

I was glad because there was no proof texts or slogans slung around, and no words of condemnation - only an unashamed explanation of who we are and why we are.

I was glad because the shaped-note-singing hicks from wherever, if their song is sung with the meekness of Christ, are likely closer to the first century than the 21st.

But let everyone be swift to hear, slow to speak, and slow to anger. James 1:19)

   I’d always thought it was possible to make good grades and have an active social life - all you needed was a plan. College was like war, and you had to pick your battles and plan a long campaign. My sophomore year my plan was this - Make three A’s, one B, and two C’s. This would give me a 3.5 average (bearly) and allow me to keep my academic scholarship. My A courses were in New Testament Survey (cake), Western Civ (also cake), and American Lit II (not cake - but a blast). My B course was Tennis and volleyball (you had to write a paper to make an A). And My C courses were Bio 2 (who wants to memorize all the bones of the body and the chemical process of photosynthesis), and Business Math (cake - but lots of homework). I knew just how much I had to do to get those grades in those courses, and did just that much work. For instance, all I needed from my NT Survey workbook was a 94, so I computed the number of questions in it and did exactly 94% of them (correctly) and left the rest blank. It was a great plan and provided me with a great second sophomore semester - until one week before finals when I got my NT Survey workbook back. In red ink on the title page the grade 94% had been marked out and replaced with a 89%. Beneath it my professor, Clifton Inman, had written these words:

Barry, you came to us a very good and sincere student. You are letting some of this slip. Return to your first love.

I was furious. I went to Clifton Inman’s office and demanded to know just how many questions, I had answered correctly in my workbook. I knew the answer as well as he did - 94%. “But,” he said, “You didn’t work hard enough to deserve an A.” I wasn’t going to argue, and I wasn’t going to beg. I stayed up all night and wrote a paper for Tennis and Volleyball and raised that grade to an A, keeping my academic scholarship intact. I hadn’t let the old man beat me.

Clifton Inman was a saintly man and we had been close. I spent my freshman year helping him at his congregation in Rockport, West Virginia. I spent a lot of time in his home - he was like a surrogate grandfather. After the workbook incident we were never really close again. When he died a few years ago I pulled out that workbook to read the note he had written me. At the age of 30, I understood fully he was right, and saw them as words of wisdom. I was not prepared for what I found. The phrase “return to your first love,” did not end in a period, but a comma. It was followed by the words, “I say this because I love you very much.”

Luke 22:62 - And he went out and wept bitterly.

I have in my Library over 30 books just about communication, and communication theory (I even have one by Ed McMahon) - none of them can improve upon James 1:19. Let every one of you be quick to hear, slow to speak, and slow to anger.

Be quick to hear. It is more important to hear than to be heard. The first act of communication is to listen. We all know it is rude to interrupt a person speaking with our own words - but how many of us interrupt them mentally? How often do we turn someone off because we assume we know what they are going to say? How often do we start formulating a mental response before someone has finished speaking?  

Be slow to speak. Making a message connect, making words express our true thoughts is hard work. Have we taken the time to choose the right words, and to consider their cumulative effect?

Be slow to anger. Most of us become angry about what we have merely imagined. We should never assume we have received any message correctly. We should never assume we know clearly and perfectly what was in the heart of the communicator.

I lost ten years of friendship with a man, a mentor who truly cared because I didn’t listen. What else have I lost?

What have you?

We have discussed Joseph and how his life defines what it means to forgive. “Am I in God’s place? You meant to do evil to me, but God meant it for good.... therefore do not be afraid, I will take care of you and your little one’s” (Genesis 50:9-21. Joseph shows us forgiveness is not about justice (Am I in God’s place?); that it entails neither accepting not forgetting (you meant to do evil to me); that its essential element is God’s grace ( God meant it for good) ; and that it means acting based upon that grace and not upon the hurt (do not be afraid, I will take care of you and your little ones). This week I want us to see the great irony of the Joseph story, and understand a measure of what is at stake if we refuse to forgive.

    Of Jacob’s 12 sons we know about only three - Reuben, Judah, and Joseph. Of Reuben we know that he seemed to have a keen sense of responsibility towards his father ( Genesis 37 :21-36, and since he is the oldest, this not surprising. Joseph, of course, is one of the great characters of the Old Testament. Only Moses and David have more print devoted to their lives. He is THE exemplary man of Genesis. Joseph tells none of the lies Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob so easily resort to in time of crisis. He achieves the highest level of integrity, and the highest level of human accomplishment. Judah, on the other hand, is less than nice.

     Judah is the one who has the bright idea of selling Joseph instead of killing him, because that they will at least make a buck (Genesis 37:25-28). Judah is the one who gets his daughter-in -law pregnant ( in his defense he doesn’t know she is his daughter-in -law, he thinks she is a prostitute). Judah is a shark who would seem more at home swimming in the waters inside the beltway, than he would in the pages of the Bible. But he’s there. In fact, he’s the reason for Joseph’s odessy.

     Joseph knows full well he is a tool for God’s greater plan, that he’s not the focus of that plan. “God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on the earth, and to keep you alive by a great deliverance.”(Genesis 45:7) For all the print dedicated to him (Genesis 37-50), Joseph is NOT the brother whom God must keep alive. Neither is Mr. Responsibility, Reuben. The brother who must survive is Judah!  Judah is the father of Kings. David is his descendant, so is Solomon, Joash, Hezekiah, and Josiah. So is Jesus.The line that will produce the Saviour - that will bring to complete fulfillment the covenant with Abraham ( in your seed will all the nations of the world be blessed) runs through Judah.

    What if Joseph could not have forgiven his brothers? What if on that morning in Egypt when 10 brothers from Canaan came to buy grain, they met sudden execution? We never know what God has planned. We never know who is necessary to His plan. If we usurp God’s role of meting out justice, will we not find ourselves trying to oppose His will?

     The irony of Judah is that the least likable, the least admirable among us may be the very one for whom God has planned great things. The irony of Judah teaches us to never assume. The irony of Judah teaches us that forgiveness is the only way to yield to God’s will.

In the Old Testament we read of many false gods raised up against the One True God. Dagon, the Corn god of the Philistines (you know it you invert the letters of g-o-d-in that moniker, you could call him the Corn Dog of the Philistines) fell on his face before the ark of God. The 400 prophets of Baal couldn't rouse a post-card from him let alone a ball of fire from heaven. Yes, they all bit the dust, those Old Testament idols, but in the New Testament, one still remained.

Remember, Jesus said "you can't serve two masters, you'll love one and hate the other," remember? He said you can't serve God and Stuff(Matthew 6:24).

Stuff has remained. Stuff sets itself up as God's competitor. Stuff competes for our time, our dollars, our emotional attachment, our allegiance, our obedience, our devotion.

Stuff is the subject of two of the ten commandments -"Thou shalt not steal" someone else's stuff (#8), and "Thou shalt not covet" someone else's stuff (#10). In fact, Paul calls coveting someone else's stuff (Guess what) - idolatry (Colossians 3:5).

Hillary Rodham Clinton had a bestseller out a few years back titled "It Takes a Village" - referring to the notion that it takes an entire community to raise a child. Too bad it doesn't take a Gameboy, or a beanie baby, or a Sega. Our kids don't lack for those.

They also don't lack for messages from the television telling them their value lies in possessing the right brands of stuff. Sadly most of them don't ask for parents to reinforce these messages by buying all this correct stuff.

We imagine stuff is basically benign - that we are masters of it. This is fantasy. Stuff controls us, more often than not, and never stops struggling for control.

And we must never stop struggling against stuff.

But how?

How do we struggle against so much stuff?. Do we downsize? Simplify? Prioritize? Organize our closet space?

The answer lies in the first verse we referenced above. Jesus said no one can serve two masters, that if we love one we will necessarily hate the other. It seems to clearly follow that the best thing we can do to break the bonds of our stuff is to love God.

Loving God leaves no room for loving stuff.