Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: The Warning of Summer Fruit

A basket of summer fruit is beautiful and nutritious. But it also rots – much like communities based on exploitation and abuse.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking that I’m very grateful to the Reverend Linda Petrucelli, who will be leading worship at Church of the Holy Cross this coming Sunday. I myself will be at the General Synod of the United Church of Christ in Kansas City, Missouri. This is the regular national gathering of the UCC. I’ll be doing some work with the UCC Media Justice Ministry. I’ll also be learning and worshipping. I’ll be spending time with old friends and treasured colleagues. This is, in many ways, the family reunion of the United Church of Christ.

Please hold in prayer myself and those others who are going to be traveling back and forth to Kansas City.

I look forward to being back in the pulpit again on July 20th, so therefore I’m thinking somewhat ahead, and I’m thinking about the eighth chapter of the prophet Amos (Amos 8:1-12). Amos was not a cheerful person, but the beginning of chapter eight started rather pleasantly. God showed Amos a basket of summer fruit.

Things went badly from there.

Because God announced a lot of displeasure with things that were happening in the nation. “You who trample on the needy,” said God: beware. People were being sold. people were being cheated. And it was primarily being done by the wealthy and the powerful.

Why start with a basket of summer fruit? Because prosperity looks like a basket of summer fruit: tempting, delicious, satisfying. The problem with a prosperity that is built upon exploitation, that is built upon the wealthy and the powerful adding to their wealth and power at the expense of the other members of society, is that it is hollow, that it fades. If you leave a basket of summer fruit out for very long, it will rot. It will rot to the very core.

This was Amos’s warning 2700 and more years ago. It should be a warning to us to make sure that our summer fruit is the results of a planting that nourishes the soil from which it grows, and not something simply torn from the trees, exploiting everything: soil, roots, plants, leaf. Or in human terms: worker, family, community.

Let us take warning from the basket of summer fruit, and make sure our society does not earn the same condemnation of God.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: Written in Heaven

Jesus sent seventy of his followers to teach and to heal. They came back rejoicing – but Jesus wasn’t sure they rejoiced in the right thing.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about the tenth chapter of Luke’s Gospel (Luke 10:1-11, 16-20), in which Jesus sent out seventy of his disciples to teach, to heal, and to cast out demons; and the story of what they said when they returned.

Jesus had done something similar before. In Chapter nine, he sent out the Twelve to do the same thing. He gave them a pretty stringent set of instructions; He gave nearly identical instructions to the Seventy. When the Twelve returned, they came back with stories of success; when the Seventy returned, they said that even the demons were subject to them.

Jesus had a curious response to this. He said, “Do not rejoice that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” He didn’t say that to the Twelve. On the other hand, the Twelve are not quoted as rejoicing in their power over the other spirits of the world. But it does occur to me, as I listened to the responses of the Seventy, that there is something curiously missing in what they had to say.

They said that the demons had been subject to them, that is, that they had had power they did not anticipate. But where are the people that they helped? Where are the people who learned something from the stories that they told? Where are the people who recovered from illnesses and injuries? Where are the people who were freed from the domination of a malicious spirit?

They weren’t there. They weren’t in the story that they told (at least, not as Luke gives it to us in this account).

Jesus, I think, noticed that those people were missing. Jesus noticed very clearly that what they celebrated was their power. But it’s not about power, Jesus said.

I probably have liked it if Jesus had said, “It’s about the people you’re helping.” He didn’t say that, but he did pull them back from the exultation. It’s about the that primary relationship with God, he said. It’s about having your name be held precious in heaven.

The reason you went out, seventy followers, is because those other people’s names are also precious in heaven. You were sent out so that people could be freed, so that people could learn, so that people could heal. Rejoice that their names, that your names, that all names are held precious in the heart of God.

It’s not about the power. It’s about the people. It’s about those around us, and yes: It is also about us and the way that God loves us.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: Fire from the Sky

When Jesus’ disciples asked if he would punish a village with fire from the sky, he said no.

Here’s a transcript:

I apologize for the scratchy voice. I’m recovering from a respiratory infection, and, well, the voice comes back more slowly, but I’ll do the best I can. And if you can’t understand what I’m saying, you can try the transcript at holycrosshilo.com.

I’m thinking about the ninth chapter of Luke’s Gospel (Luke 9:51-62). Jesus decided to set his face towards Jerusalem, that is, to begin a journey — what would be his final journey —towards the capital city not just of the Hebrew people were also of the Jewish faith. But along the way, he went through a village of Samaritans. But because he was going to Jerusalem, the Samaritans would not receive him. Jesus’ disciples asked, “Shall we ask God to send fire from heaven to destroy them?” Jesus said, “No,” and they went on their way.

Two thousand years later, we don’t ask God to send fire from heaven. We send it ourselves. And it doesn’t much matter what nation loads the airplanes with bombs. What matters is that death and destruction fall from the sky. And while you can say some targets are legitimate military targets, the simple truth is that people die.

People die.

Sometimes they’re soldiers — whose lives are also worth a great deal in the eyes of God. Sometimes it is civilians. Sometimes it is children.

Shall we send fire from the sky? Jesus said no.

Peace is so precious. Yet we squander it.

Shall we send fire from the sky?

Jesus said no.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: Gifts of the Angel

When Elijah fled from the threats of his monarchs, an angel brought him simple things to revive him: a meal and a rest.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking that I’m very grateful to Lori Yamashiro, the Office Coordinator of the Hawai’i Conference of the United Church of Christ, because she will be delivering the message this coming Sunday while I’m traveling. I’m deeply grateful and I’m looking forward to hearing her wisdom when I return and can watch the recorded service.

I am, however, also thinking about the nineteenth chapter of First Kings (1 Kings 19:1-15). The prophet Elijah had had a great success calling down fire from heaven to ignite a sacrifice soaked in water, when the prophets of Baal could not. The queen of Israel, Jezebel, however, was not impressed. She sent word that Elijah was to be sought, arrested, and executed.

Despite his recent success, Elijah fled, and he headed out into the wilderness — in fact, towards the wilderness through which the people of Israel had wandered many years before. Along the way, he settled down next to a book and he went to sleep, asking that he might awake and die. When he woke, he found an angel standing there, and there was food and water for him. The Angel told him to eat and drink and sleep. Elijah did, and then found the angel with food again. He ate, he drank, and he slept again.

And then he continued his journey.

I’ve been known to say that (it’s not original with me) this is a Scripture text that demonstrates the power of a nap and a snack for carrying on with the work of God. And however trite it may seem, it is also true. Elijah, after all of his exertions: he was tired. And Elijah, despite his success, also knew that the power of the nation was not to be disregarded lightly, and so he feared.

Tired and afraid, he fled.

Each of us finds ourselves in places where we get worn out even by the successes, even by the triumphs. And you and I also find ourselves in places where we fear: where we fear perhaps to fail, or perhaps we fear some outside agency, or we just fear that we’ve worn ourselves out and we’ve got nothing left.

Elijah took a break. He thought it was going to be a longer break than it was, but he took a break, and that is a guidepost for us: because there will be times that we need to rest and recover. There will be times when we need to renew and reform. There will be times when we need someone to take care of us, give us something to eat, and encourage us to sleep.

There’s one other thing that occurs to me. This did not end to the story of Elijah in First Kings. He had more to do (and God gave him his instructions later on), but it occurs to me that giving somebody a snack, giving somebody the opportunity to rest: this might be the single easiest way for us to act as angels to someone else.

So where are you? Are you weary and afraid? Rest and eat.

Or is there somebody weary and afraid around you? For them, be an angel.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: Spirit of Truth

Jesus promised his disciples that the Holy Spirit would lead them into all truth. May we be wise enough to follow!

Here’s a transcript:

As we come to Trinity Sunday, I’m thinking about the sixteenth chapter of John’s Gospel (John 16:12-15), yet another portion of Jesus’ “Farewell Address to his Disciples.” In this section, Jesus promised them the gift of the Holy Spirit once again.

This time Jesus described it as the Spirit of Truth that would lead them into all truth. I hate to say it, but in the twenty-first century we have not valued all truth, have we? We live surrounded by half-truths. We live surrounded by outright deceptions.

Many of them take place in our entertainment. I’m not talking about, you know, fictional stories: I’m talking about the advertising that accompanies them. Their claims to make our lives better are, at best, exaggerated. At worst, they’re outright falsehoods. I can’t tell you how many things I’ve purchased over the years that simply have not lived up to the claims. I can’t tell you how many things I’ve purchased over the years that I’ve come to regret, for the waste of my time and effort and, yes, money, trying to make them work in the way they were claimed to work.

Sadly, we in the United states have come to believe that the leaders we elect lie to us and do so routinely. Sometimes we believe it’s only the opponents of our selected political party that lie to us, but in general we tend to say something like, “Well, politicians will lie.”

Jesus told his disciples that that was not an acceptable state of affairs. Jesus said that the wisdom of God, the work of the Holy Spirit, was the work of truth, is the work of truth. You and I do not need to accept lies. We need to insist upon truth. It is what we are due. It is what the Holy Spirit has come to bring us, or to lead us to.

So as you watch the advertisements, as you listen to the leaders, insist upon truth. And if you don’t get it, insist further upon truth. And if you still don’t get it, insist further upon truth.

It is, truth is, what the Holy Spirit will lead us to if we follow the Spirit’s guidance and take our steps along the way.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: Spirit in Everyone

June 3, 2025

When the Holy Spirit came on Pentecost, it came to a much bigger group than expected.

Here’s a transcript:

This coming Sunday is Pentecost Sunday, so I’m thinking about the second chapter of Acts of the Apostles (Acts 2:1-21, Luke’s account of the first Christian Pentecost.

Pentecost is originally a Jewish holiday, so Jesus’ followers in Jerusalem were already gathered and prepared to celebrate God’s gift of the Law. As Luke describes it, there came the sound of a mighty wind. They saw something that looked a little bit like flames dancing upon their heads. Most importantly, they went out into the streets and started to tell the story of God’s love in Jesus Christ. They spoke that story in languages that they did not understand, but that countless others around them did.

When they were challenged about being drunk early in the morning, Simon Peter got up and quoted the prophet Joel that men and women, young and old, would see visions and dream dreams. Today, said Peter, these things have been accomplished before you.

In various places throughout the Scriptures it is said that God’s spirit is rare, selective, uncommon. It was the experience of the early Christians that God’s spirit was present, not just to some, but to all. To the young, who might be disregarded. To the old, who might be discounted. To the men (frankly, we tend to expect men, if anybody, to be filled with the Spirit). And to the women, who we still, to this day, tend to doubt whether they have the capacity to receive God’s Spirit.

Joel said they would. Peter said they did. The experience of the church for the last two thousand years says that they do.

Young and old, men and women, see visions and dream dreams.

It is the task of the Church to try to understand the visions and dreams. It is the task of the Church to discern the meaning of what our men and our women, of what our youth and children, of what our kupuna say that they have seen or dreamed. It is not the task of the Church to say through whom God will speak. God has made it clear but that can and will be anyone.

It is up to us to listen.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: They Got Noticed

Philippi’s officials ignored Paul and his companions for days – until he healed a young woman whose illness was a source of wealth to those who owned her. Then they got noticed. And arrested.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about the sixteenth chapter of Acts of the Apostles (Acts 16:16-34). The Apostle Paul and his companions had come to Philippi. They had met with members of the local Jewish community; they had spoken to them about Jesus; they had received a warm welcome, in particular from a woman of some substance and leadership named Lydia.

In this part of the chapter they meet with another woman of Philippi, one regrettably whose name Luke did not know or at least did not record. This is a young woman, and she is at the opposite end of the social spectrum from Lydia. She was a slave, and kept as a slave because she had a “spirit of divination” within her. Her owners would make money from her by selling her skills at telling fortunes for their customers.

Well, I don’t know what her condition actually was. It’s for certain that whatever it was, it removed her ability to restrain herself, because she would follow Paul through the streets, proclaiming that he and his companions brought a message of salvation from the most high God. Paul found it irritating and I suppose I would too if somebody followed me for days and said such things about me (which is unlikely).

At one point, Paul turned around and ordered the spirit to come out of her. When it did it left her in her right mind, in her own mind, her own spirit. It displeased her owners, who had Paul and his companions arrested and beaten.

Up to that point, nobody had paid much attention to them. Paul and his companions had mostly spent their time with members of the Jewish community, and they hadn’t made much of an impact on the life of other people in Philippi. But this time, with an act of, admittedly, pique, but also compassion; when Paul healed this young woman, they’d impacted somebody’s economic life, somebody’s source of money, their hope of wealth. And that that was what impelled them to arrest Paul, notice Paul, beat Paul.

I wish I could say that in the two thousand years since, the spread of Christianity has succeeded in getting people less focused on wealth and power, and more focused on the spirit and compassion. If it has, well, it’s a very small improvement. We live in a day when, my God, how wealth and power call with their siren song, that wrecks bodies, minds, and spirits on the rocks of greed.

No, the Christian way is the way that Paul took: to force those spirits that make money for others, that force those spirits that allow us to be exploited, that force those spirits which enrich some at the expense of others, to force those spirits out and call them for what they are: Possessors. Exploiters. Evil.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: Jesus’ Peace

Jesus gave his peace to his disciples at the Last Supper. It’s a peace for us to pass on.

Here’s a transcript:

 I’m thinking about the fourteenth chapter of John’s Gospel (John 14:23-29), a portion of what we call Jesus’ Farewell Address to his Disciples. John gave three full chapters of his book to instructions and encouragement that Jesus gave to his friends at the conclusion of the Last Supper before they went out to the Garden of Gethsemane.

In this, and let’s face it very brief, section of the much longer address, Jesus was trying to answer a question about why the entire world wasn’t hearing about him. And he said that the first things are for those who love him — love Jesus — and are dedicated to carrying on his work. Others (he didn’t say here but he said later) would need to learn about the message of salvation through them, through Jesus’ followers.

He also said something about what he was giving them in this section. “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you… Do not let your hearts be troubled; do not let them be afraid.”

I nearly always read this section of John’s Gospel at a funeral because peace of the heart is so hard to find when we are in the midst of grief. But peace of the heart and soul is also hard to find in a lot of places, and it is essential that we recognize that our role is to bring that peace that Christ has given us. This is one of the ways that we know that we are loving Jesus. This is one of the ways that we know that we are following Christ. Are we bringing peace? And if others around us are looking at our actions — if we are coming with coercion or even with violence; if we are disregarding their welfare and their peace — then we are not loving Jesus. We are not following Christ.

“My peace I leave with you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not let them be afraid.”

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: Open Door

When Peter went to visit a Roman centurion, he found that God had decided to welcome all people among those who followed the Way of Jesus.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about the eleventh chapter of Acts of the Apostles (Acts 11:1-18). This is a story that Luke, the author of Acts as well as of Luke’s Gospel, thought so important that he told it three times.

This is the third telling of the story and it’s the one in which Peter reported on his activities to the council of the apostles, the leaders of the Church in Jerusalem. They wanted to know why he had eaten with Gentiles.

Well, the answer was simple.

He’d received a summons (after he’d received a strange dream) and the summons was to go to visit this Roman centurion named Cornelius. When he went there, he talked to them about Jesus, and the Holy Spirit came upon the people of the household. Seeing that, Peter said, “How can we withhold the waters of baptism?”

When he finished the story those who heard it were astonished, because it meant that God had done a new thing, and that the Way of Jesus Christ was now open not just to those they expected, to the Hebrew people, to the followers of Judaism, but to Gentiles, those from other faiths and other nations, as well.

This is perhaps the most important story in the book of Acts, because it marks the place where the Church opened its doors to all people.

Now to this day, we struggle with this. In theory, we should be able to welcome anyone, and I mean anyone, into the Church. We all know that is not true, that there are people who come to the door and we turn them away. Peter’s experience was that God would not be moved by our refusals. God would not be limited by the boundaries that we set. God would welcome, God will welcome all the people of creation into the way of Jesus Christ.

How can we refuse the welcome that God extends?

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

Rev. Eric Anderson What I'm Thinking

What I’m Thinking: Echoing Jesus

It’s probably obvious, but in the first days of the Way (before Christians were called Christians) Jesus’ disciples sought to do the things that Jesus had done. They echoed Jesus.

I’m thinking about the ninth chapter of Acts of the Apostles (Acts 9:36-43).

Luke followed up his account of the conversion of Saul (we know Saul better by his Greek name, Paul) with this story about Simon Peter’s visit to Joppa, where a woman named Tabitha (known in Greek as Dorcas) had fallen ill and died. She was an important person in that small community of the Way there in Joppa, so they asked Simon Peter to come.

He sat by her bedside. He said, “Tabitha, get up,” and she rose alive and whole once again.

There are echoes in this healing — resurrection, rather — story of Jesus’ raising of a small girl. You’ll find that story in Luke (Luke 8:40-56), and also in Mark (Mark 5:21-43) and Matthew (that’s an error; it’s not found in Matthew). In Mark’s version of the story, there are echoes of the words. “Tabitha, get up,” is what Simon Peter said. “Talitha cum,” or “Little girl, get up,” is what Jesus said to the child of the ruler of a synagogue.

I think that what this is confirming for us — because for certain we should already know this — is that the ministry of the early church saw itself as an emulation and imitation and echo of the ministry of Jesus himself. The followers of Jesus sought to do the same things that Jesus had done, whether that be healing (and yes, resurrection), or whether that be to accept the outsiders, to teach and feed the hungry, to do the things that Jesus himself had done as he walked the earth.

Nobody said it was easy.

And I’m afraid my talents for resurrection, if I have any, have not been demonstrated. But I do hope I’ve demonstrated some ability to speak love and care and compassion to those around. And I hope I’ve demonstrated some ability to bring healing to a troubled spirit.

What is it that God has given you as a way to comfort, to teach, to lead, to serve. How are you bringing life to those around you?

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below; I’d love to hear from you.