HAWKS NEST CHRONICLES
Good News from Osceola, Iowa
The “Genesis” of a Book
It’s my experience that pastors know when a sermon “connects” with a congregation. Instead of “Good message, Pastor,” or “You’ve given me a lot to think about,” one hears “We could be doing that work here” and “I want to be more like . . .”
Books abound on preaching. For pastors insecure in their ability to craft a good sermon, there are thousands available for sale or for free. One minister who hailed from North Carolina and sold his sermons in a quarterly journal wrote his subscribers, “I don’t care if you deliver my sermons word-for-word, but if you do, I ask that you do so with a soft Southern accent.”
While it was tempting to take this minister up on his offer, I knew that effective sermons had to connect a specific congregation with what was going on in their world. As one theologian put it, a preacher should have a Bible in one hand and a newspaper in the other. After all, people come to hear how they can apply scripture to their specific experience, to make their lives and their world better. That’s where the sermon is front and center. Or, better, where it should be.
It has been said that a sermon should comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. But that saying is not a formula for a successful sermon. . . or pastorate. I’ve seen it happen all too often when pastor and congregation wrestle each other over the meaning of scripture, each vying to triangulate against the other. Such conflict occurs especially with issues in play in the political arena. Abortion. Immigration. Human sexuality. All the hot topics with both sides using scripture to proof text their position.
As I looked out on my congregation, I saw members living comfortable lives, coming to church for fellowship, for the rituals, for the music, for spaces in the church cemetery, for the assurance that while they might not exactly be following in his steps, that Jesus loved them just as they were.
When I found myself with a difficult subject to preach about, I would look to how Rabbi Jesus dealt with such situations. He rarely engaged in polemics. Once, when he preached from the Hebrew prophet Isaiah about proclaiming good news for the poor, freedom for prisoners, recovery of sight for the blind, and setting the oppressed free, his congregation wanted to throw him off a cliff. We have to forgive him—it was his first sermon.
After that experience, Jesus changed his approach. He began to use parables and stories. “A man had two sons. . . ”; “A man going from Jerusalem to Jericho. . . ”; “The kingdom of God is like. . .” And there it was. The seed of an idea. In seminary, we called them sermon seeds. That got me to thinking: How might a person who heard that scripture from Isaiah about good news for the poor wrestle with it, lay awake at night, and finally, respond in some timid way at least, like work one day at a food pantry?
And so I introduced my congregation to Emma Weiss of Osceola, Iowa, who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror at her graying hair, and wondered if there was something more to living a life of faith than attending worship, potluck dinners, and committee meetings. From that “seed,” Emma needed a husband, a pastor, neighbors, a home town, all the trappings of life and community so to speak.
The response I received after that sermon about “Emma’s First Today” (chapter one) was remarkable. Folks all but asked me for Emma’s phone number and address. That got me to thinking, that rather than confront politically-charged views, why not tell stories about how folks in Osceola were dealing with them?
From there I began to craft sermons disguised as letters from Herb or Emma or Pastor Bob maybe two- or three-times a year on such subjects as race and immigration, tattoos and gossip, evangelism and welcoming the stranger, how war affects veterans.
After retirement, folks asked me to collect these sermons into a book. And so, with some—actually, a lot—of help from writing teachers and critique groups, I was able to assemble and publish Hawks Nest Chronicles — Good News from Osceola, Iowa, a novel in short stories.You don’t need to be a Christian to enjoy this book, just a person who likes to hear yarns about people and their struggles to live more meaningful lives.
Described by one reader as chocolates on a bedtime pillow, these short stories with good news at the center are a perfect way to end the day—or to savor with a cup of tea and a muffin on a quiet afternoon. Unwrap each one to find a scripture lesson, a life lesson, or maybe an episode of the ridiculous. They’ll make you smile, lead you to reflect, and maybe cause a tear or two.
Let me know what you think. Just don’t ask for Emma’s address.
LISTEN
