AND FOR A HELMET THE HOPE
with Rev. Rachel
8 AND FOR A HELMET THE HOPE 1 Thessalonians 5
I’ve heard about someone using a weekly “column” to reflect on the Sunday prior. He or she takes the would’a could’a should’as, breaks them down and shares them, asking God’s blessing, that these after-the-fact ponderings might be bread for that community’s journey. Think outtakes or bloopers (but with seen-before footage).
I’m going to give it a whirl. Jeopardy-style: These things are par for the course. What is, the pastor launched into the children’s moment too soon and realized the offering plates were MIA with only minutes to execute a search and rescue?
These are irregular, seasonal uh-ohs. What is, the boiler-furnace duo that has been serviced twice, fueled, reset, and coddled made a pitifully poor showing?
One of the virtual sticky notes amassing in Rachel’s head. What is, see to it that folks signs up to read Scripture for the next six weeks so you don’t put Mark or Aaron on the spot anymore?
That is to say nothing of the sermon and what I ought to qualify or augment or ask that you just plain forget…
I’m somewhere between the bridesmaids of last week’s parable and this week’s Epistle imagery. To my right is a reminder to look up a poem that a colleague referenced in his sermon. To my left is an article on Paul’s use of the words “faith” and “salvation”. A helmet would be nice (v.8). Sermonating does a bang me up job on me regardless of how I do with it.
The helmet offered here is hope. The Apostle seems convinced that you and I can go from one Sunday to another, navigating the pitfalls within and beyond, on the hope of our salvation alone. Don’t be deceived by two layers of translation (into Greek and then into English). Salvation is a present experience of any or all of the things from which we are delivered, by nature of living life in covenant with God and each other. The hope of our salvation is what comes to us when our salvation is at the forefront.
Saved from keeping up appearances, saved from façade-scaping, saved from a perfectionism that does nothing to perfect us in our loving…it happens here, y’all. Sunday, 11:00 am, helmets strongly encouraged.