95 Prostheses. Frank G. Honeycutt

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      95 Prostheses

      Appendages and Musings for the Body of Christ in Transition

      Frank G. Honeycutt

      95 PROSTHESES

      Appendages and Musings for the Body of Christ in Transition

      Copyright © 2018 Frank G. Honeycutt. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publisher. Write: Permissions, Wipf and Stock Publishers, 199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3, Eugene, OR 97401.

      Cascade Books

      An Imprint of Wipf and Stock Publishers

      199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3

      Eugene, OR 97401

      www.wipfandstock.com

      paperback isbn: 978-1-5326-0539-0

      hardcover isbn: 978-1-5326-0541-3

      ebook isbn: 978-1-5326-0540-6

      Cataloguing-in-Publication data:

      Names: Honeycutt, Frank G.

      Title: 95 prostheses : appendages and musings for the body of Christ in transition / Frank G. Honeycutt.

      Description: Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2018 | Includes bibliographical references and index.

      Identifiers: isbn 978-1-5326-0539-0 (paperback) | isbn 978-1-5326-0541-3 (hardcover) | isbn 978-1-5326-0540-6 (ebook)

      Subjects: LCSH: 1. Theology. | 2. Church Year. | I. Title. | subject

      Classification: br85 .h55 2018 (print) | br85 (ebook)

      Manufactured in the U.S.A. January 29, 2018

      In memory of Frances Hudson Christmas

      1929—2012

      Preface

      Martin Luther (1483–1546) was obsessed with the Bible and in love with his Lord revealed therein. Time magazine named Luther “Man of the Millennium” for myriad accomplishments in the sixteenth century that shaped theology, language, hymnody, art, and so many things now taken for granted in Christianity across the world—all fueled by his high regard for Holy Scripture. This book is released in conjunction with the 500th anniversary of his posting of the now-famous 95 Theses in October of 1517 in Wittenberg, Germany.

      I’ve chosen the whimsical title, 95 Prostheses, partly because my own body is propped up gratefully with two prosthetic devices, and partly because the church (the body of Christ) is at a juncture where old Bible stories known by Luther need recasting and reframing with a generation of people for whom biblical narrative is foreign and even downright weird. Theologian Karl Barth (1886–1968) was prescient when he wrote about “the strange new world within the Bible,” for the church’s book is indeed both strange and new for adult converts seriously perusing its often odd pages for the first time.

      The book is arranged around the classic themes of the church year and best read with a Bible nearby and with a pace that matches the steady, unfolding wisdom of the seasons. Authentic faith requires unhurried percolation. Each section of the book will include a general introduction followed by ten essays based upon Bible stories familiar to that season and chosen with new Christians, study groups, and Christian formation teams in mind. Each essay concludes with questions or exercises inviting deeper reflection and understanding. May these cyclical seasonal rhythms lead you into deeper discipleship and a joyful following of the man who changed Luther to change the world: Jesus the Christ.

Introduction to the Season1

      Between our house on Woodland Way Road and the nearby middle school is a small stream whose name I do not know. It flows under the road through a large culvert and empties into a small pool, rising and falling with the rain. I always stop and look in the pool on daily walks, shielding eyes from the setting sun reflecting off the water.

      I’m looking for fish. My wife says I’m crazy. On the way to the store the other day, she slowed down and called to me, a hunched figure on the side of the road squinting into the pool: “There’s no fish in that creek, you lovable nut job!”

      Obsessed with fish from a young age, the hatchery was the first place I wanted to go while visiting grandparents in the mountains of North Carolina; we’d hardly unpacked before heading into Pisgah Forest to watch the contained and squirming schools. I had this idea as a child, passing a body of water in the car on vacation trips, that I could toss a baited hook out the back window, and with enough line and a little patience would reel in a whopper upon reaching our destination. I was always out early at the beach as a little boy, wading into the surf with my hand-line and a pocketful of bait shrimp, and once caught a good-sized pompano in the waves, just inches from my kneecap.

      Recently, on a warm day after a rain shower, I was peering into the pool on Woodland Way and saw three small fish, each maybe two inches long. My wife says I’m lying. And I do confess to lying to her on occasion just to keep things interesting. Nothing important—small, innocent, sensational fibs that hook her like a bluegill. But that day on Woodland Way they were there, in my pool: three small fish.

      *

      The story (Luke 2:8–20) says they “lived in the fields,” keeping watch. I suspect that was some kind of life—actually living in fields, making your home there with an evening fire taking the place of your basic indoor Kenmore on a much wider range that seemed even bigger at night. They took care of the flock. That was their job, day in and day out. They slept out on a hillside protecting fluffy fur for an absent owner. I doubt it paid a whole lot.

      Some Bible scholars say that many shepherds were ex-cons who’d spent time in jail—which is to say they lied professionally (rather than recreationally, like me). They kept watch and developed an eye for odd movements and an ear for strange sounds. Some of the shepherds were probably pretty salty characters (Jeff Bridges as “The Dude” from The Big Lebowski comes to mind), old seasoned men prone to mild fabrication around a roaring fire. They watched over the flock with alert senses honed by suspicion born from experience. They kept watch. It was their whole life, this watching. If the angels had appeared to princes with indoor heat, then maybe Jesus would’ve had better Christmas digs that holy night. But the angels came to watchers. The angels came to guys who watched the stars and listened to the song of crickets. The angels came to folk who lived in fields with their antennae already up.

      In a pastoral ministry spanning four decades, I’ve met all kinds of interesting people in a variety of interesting settings—some with lots of faith and others with hardly any at all. It’s not my job to judge others based on the intensity of their faith, although some think it is (or should be). One of my dearest friends is the most committed atheist you’ll ever hope to meet. His forty-year friendship has helped me realize that doubt and skepticism can be allies to faith. It’s sometimes hard to maintain faith in a world such as ours, but I think it’s also hard to maintain unbelief in anything at all. It’s hard to explain away the existence of leopards and coyotes and trout and mitochondria and the color СКАЧАТЬ