05 February 2009

In an attempt to be creative . . .

I used this introduction last night to get a hearing on Paul's tough teaching regarding the man having sex with his stepmother in I. Cor. 5. At the onset of the worship time I told people I was going to "stretch their imaginations tonight . . . .so stay with me 'til the end." Here's what I did:

You might know Kara and I spent part of this past summer traveling. We worked it out to have time in London on our way to Uganda. On our way back, I spent some time in Paris. While I’m not necessarily in love with Parisians per se, the city of Paris is electric. One of my favorite aspects about being in Paris (in addition to Notre Dame) is the experience of walking through the Louvre. Known as perhaps the greatest art gallery in the world (though workers at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NYC might quibble with me), the Louvre is the gold standard, the best of the best.

As Kara and I walked through the halls of the Louvre, in awe of the sheer age of much of the work (and incidentally, the easy-to-forget youth of our home country), we felt the buzz as we moved closer and closer to the Big Show—the Mona Lisa. I’d heard Sara Barton talk about her disappointment with her Mona Lisa Experience, but I was not to be deterred. As we closed in on Da Vinci’s sixteenth century masterpiece, I could barely see ahead of me. The large room was packed wall to wall. Camera’s flashed, voices spoke in dozens of languages . . . we were coming closer and closer.

Just as I approached the velvet markings, in church we call them sheep herders, boundary markers (the kind you see on television roping off runways for celebrities walking down the red carpet via their que’s) . . . a short man grabbed my arm.

“Excuse me, Monsieur,” he said with a degree of brashness.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Are you a priest?” This is what I get for wearing my black shirt with a white tee-shirt underneath. I thought about explaining non-denominational Christianity and the word ‘minister’ (“technically all Christians are ministers”) to the mysterious French-men. I reconsidered knowing this man’s only orientation to the world was Catholicism. Hence my black and white shirt.
“Yes. I am a priest.” I finally stammered.
“We’ve been expecting you.”
“You have?” All of the sudden I felt as if I was in some sort of version of Dan Brown’s DaVinci Code. Was this a new game show—DaVinci Code Pranks Gone Wild?
“Yes. Come with me.” Now I was getting a bit upset with this guy. Who did he think he was? I could no longer find Kara—we’d been separated from each other in the mad dash to get closer to the Mona Lisa—whose smile was now getting further and further away from me.

I followed the short Frenchmen (his name, according to his work nametag, was Jean-Pierre). Jean led me to an unmarked elevator on the south side of the hallway. We took that down about three levels to an awkward room.

“Wait here,” he said abruptly.

After a few minutes of waiting, he came back with another man. They had a portable table and a large steel box. “We think you will find some interest in the contents of this box. About a year ago, an archaeologist for National Geographic stumbled upon some ancient letters in Italy. They were written in a form of Greek that very few people recognized. After a few months, we were informed by religion scholars that these letters were written in Koine Greek, the Greek of the New Testament. Mr. Graves, I don’t know quite how to say it, but you are holding a letter written by St. Paul himself. This is not a letter that appears in the New Testament. In fact, only a few dozen people have even laid eyes upon this. We believe this letter was written by St. Paul near the end of his life, concerning a person that appears in his first letter to Corinthian Christians. Would you mind looking at it, and telling us what you think? The best we can tell, this letter refers to I Corinthians 5 and St. Paul’s dealings with Christians living in Corinth.”

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I've had to explain to several people what I was trying to do (and why I was trying to do it). That is, 1) we only have some of Paul's letters/correspondence with Corinthian Christians and 2) It's a precious gift that we have any at all.

6 comments:

Courtney Strahan said...

josh, this was so good! how much of the intro of the story is real? the whole time last night i was thinking, "that's so sweet that he got to read that!" -- but then i remembered we needed our imaginations and figured that none of it was true except the part about just being in the Louvre. hahahaha... why i'm admitting my gullibility, i don't know.

Adam Gonnerman said...

If you hadn't explained the points you were making, I would have thought you hadn't written the whole story yet. Seemed like it cut off halfway through.

:)

It was good though.

Josh Graves said...

Courtney,

Thanks for the note. I was wondering what you thought . . . sitting in the corner.

I really did go to the Louvre. I really did see the Mona Lisa. I tried to give clues during the telling but apparently the clues weren't strong enough. :)

Adam, I'll check out your blog. You're right. It does seem cut off a bit.

When I "did" this, I had a transition into Paul's work in Corinthians, etc. So, it was a bit of a different experience than represented here. Good points.

Courtney Strahan said...

Aside from the gullibility, I really enjoyed it. I thought that you really captured Paul... He came so alive in those 30 or so minutes. And it was beautiful to hear the words spoken as if he were either telling us face-to-face, or as his inner-thoughts while he wrote. You really brought out the emotions that I think we often don't feel or forget. I felt Paul, and even confidently could say I understood him. Well done.

And anyway, I just think you're a good story teller. Could I use that as my excuse for having that become so believable? :)

Oh, and I've really enjoyed these more intimate, dialogue driven CNX nights.

Josh Graves said...

Courtney,

I'm glad. I saw some people glued. Some falling asleep. Some nodding in and out of an "awake state."

I like the more "dialog" approaches to Wednesday night. It seems we don't do dialog well in spaces that feel like the sanctuary/auditorium/sacred place. So, we'll try to get even better than that.

I'm grateful you are a part of the mission of Rochester Church.

Have you Eugene Peterson's new book, "Say it Slant"--hmmm. Who do you think influenced this title. Could it be Emily Dickinson? Looks like a great book.

JG

Courtney Strahan said...

I'm grateful to be a part of this community's mission too. It is my home now.

That is such a Dickinson title! I've only read Peterson's "Eat This Book"--not sure how I felt about it. It was a great book, but I think the failure is more on my part... I read more about God than I do his own Word. Let me know how the new one is. I want to give Peterson another try.