Monday, February 15, 2010

Fresh Ground

The difference between "Imagine if you would. . ." from the pulpit and the preacher who becomes the person - "the point of view" - is the difference between the coffee made from the jar of instant I found in the back of my kitchen cabinet that my dad (God love him!) left here three years ago which he spoons into warm water out of the faucet - and a cup of fresh ground pressed, say, Columbian, satiny-black, and steaming. Fair-trade, of course. Third-person discourse vs first. Sure, that homileticalpoint has been made. And not everybody is a character actor. Or perhaps has risked it. (That is a whole other set of issues.) I've certainly served more than my share of that back-of-the-cabinet stuff come Sunday. Be that as it may, let's see what happens with Matthew 6:1-21:

Susan on the inside team, cutting in paint, Habitat project:

Sometime during the day I forgot why I was here,
which I had told the pastor was 
"It makes me feel good to help these . . "
(translate: "Make me feel good.")

This brush is a good one.
We are performing above ourselves
in the sublime tedium of persistence.
I have no stake here, 
failing to remember my goodness
utterly.

My Father who sees in secret
secretly took the offering 
I didn't know I had given.
 

© 2010 Andy Gay