The Lowest Place

Luke 14: 1, 7-14

The Meal, Paul Gauguin c. 1891 Public Domain

One Sunday afternoon at a Lutheran Church in Luray, VA, a southern gentlemen and dairy farmer announced to his family that the pastor would be joining them for Sunday lunch. 

Siram Huffman, my great grandfather was ecstatic to know that his invitation to the pastor and the pastor’s parents -who were visiting from out of town- had accepted the invitation. 

It was a great honor for him, and an honor he was all too excited to share with the rest of the family, which included three branches of the Huffman clan. 

In all there were eleven adults and five children, not counting the pastor and his two parents. 

Being a German Lutheran Shenendoah Valley family, I am certain everyone would have been just as honored and overjoyed, IF Siram had checked the menu first. 

But it wasn’t Siram’s task to cook Sunday lunch and when news of extra mouths to feed was shared, accommodations had to be made to ensure that everyone received a sliver of meat from the single chicken that had been cleaned and set aside, that day. 

My grandmother pulled my father and his four cousins into a side room of that farm house and informed each of them just what portions of that meager bird would be made available to them. 

The tail, the back, and the wings were allotted for the children. 

After the pastor and his parents arrived, grace was said, and the lone chicken was passed around. 

But eyes widened when the pastor’s mother ripped the back off the bird proclaiming, “The closer to the bone, the sweeter the meat!”

Heads shook when the pastor’s father broke off the tail and announced, “I like the part that gets over the fence last!”

And all hope was lost when the pastor shared that he loved the wings because he liked the part that makes the bird fly. It reminded him of angels. 

All faces were frozen with concern, except for Siram's, at how the children would react as the chicken made it’s way around the table until landing in front of my father who just stared at the chicken with contempt. 

“What’s the matter, Jimmy?” asked Siram.

The table fell into complete silence until my father advised, 

“Well, pastor’s mamma took the back, pastor’s daddy took the tail, and the pastor took the wings! 

So what am I supposed to eat!”

~

Today’s gospel is another account of Jesus’ ministry around a meal. 

It is only found in Luke’s gospel, so it’s pretty safe to assume Luke loves table fellowship, but Jesus seems to use meals as illustrations for many complicated concepts throughout his ministry. 

There is a danger in the way we interpret the gospel’s meaning for today, though, and while these are interpretations that are not necessarily harmful,  they don’t get to the heart of the matter either. 

One danger is interpreting this text as a lesson in etiquette. 

And while this isn’t a bad takeaway, there are better books out there when it comes to table manners.

They will probably even tell you which forks and spoons to use, if you choose wisely. 

The second danger is in interpreting this lesson as a mad dash for the cheap seats, as if there is some heavenly trophy for last place, or maybe even the world’s worst game of musical chairs. 

Today’s gospel says something so much more than just where we sit at a table, whether that be a table in this life or another. 

It offers us a perspective on how we respond to an invitation, an earnest request for the presence of the one who has been invited. 

It isn’t a demand that the invited be present, but a heartfelt request. 

A request that we are present at the banquet, without any specific reference to the seating. 

Consider the last time you were invited to a wedding. 

Did you ask the one inviting which seat you would receive?

Is it a matter of where you are seated, or is the important thing that you were present at all?

What is implied is the gratitude for the invitation to such a banquet at all, a gratitude that should be as heartfelt as the invitation that was extended in the first place. 

But there is another issue at the heart of this story. 

What good is an invitation when it is extended with the mere intention of scorn or humiliation? 

What if an invitation is extended for no other reason than to make us the butt of the joke?

Are we to just accept such an insult in life, much less a meal?

The Potato Eaters, Vincent van Gogh c. 1885 Public Domain

 ~

I haven’t had a lot of time since moving here, but as some of you know, one of my favorite hobbies is smoking barbecue. 

I’ve smoked barbecue for years. 

In fact, if I go out for barbecue, it is usually only to try and discover new sauces, rubs, or techniques. 

I would much rather make my own. 

But one of the things that appeals to me the most about barbecue is the history behind the meat. 

Yes, you heard me right, there is a history behind the very meat that is selected when barbecue is prepared. 

Boston butt is cut from the upper part of the front leg of a pig, literally, the shoulder. 

This makes the cut tougher than the loin or the ham, which were the most desirable cuts of swine in the revolutionary era of Virginia. 

In Boston, they found the shoulder such a difficult cut of meat, they shipped them off in barrels, called butts, to be sold off to the poor or eaten by sailors at sea, thus these cuts have come to be known as “Boston Butts”. 

Ribs, regardless of whether they are from beef or swine, are full of connective tissues that keep the muscle tissue and bone tightly woven together to protect the inner organs. 

Because these cuts were so tough, they were often discarded as trash. 

And the toughest cut of them all when it comes to meat; brisket. 

Brisket is cut from the pectoral muscles of cattle, which carry over half their own body weight there. 

This makes brisket one of the toughest cuts of muscle and connective tissues that there is, and by far the toughest cut of meat to smoke. 

What is so intriguing about these meats and the history behind them, is that all of them were either discarded as trash, sold to the poorest and lowest in society, or even given to slaves and servants because these cuts just weren't good enough for those in the places of honor.

Shall we just say that they just weren’t very “high on the hog”. 

But after those from the lowest places received these scraps from the butchers, they learned how to take these difficult cuts and turn them into a specialized cuisine that is cooked at a low heat for an extensive period of time, gently loosening the tissues and the natural oils that make these cuts flavorful and tender like no other cut can be made. 

These cuts of meat are not only found at a far higher price today in grocery stores, but this technique of cooking is now a coveted skill at competitions and restaurants throughout the country. 

It really is an art, and how the lowly have become admired for their ingenuity and wisdom. 

To have taken what was garbage and made it gourmet. 

A Southern Barbecue, Horace Bradley c. 1887 Public Domain

~

What is the difference between humiliation and humility?

Jesus implies that we should avoid disgrace in his words today, but when disgrace is offered, he seems to recommend humility?

For one, humiliation cannot be vindicated. 

It is a dishonor we commit to ourselves as much as another commits it to us, screaming out against it indignantly, despite its inescapability. 

And the harder we fight it, the more trapped in it we become. 

Humility is the acceptance of that lowly position.

But it is an acceptance of it, not a resignation to it. 

Rather than resigning to it, humility calls us to turn it towards something more glorious, turning toward something positive, like a symbol, a person, those around us, maybe even… a meal?

~

Our story, our Christian story, is one in which we cry out to the Lord in our distress, crying out into the temple, crying out into God’s ears (Psalm 18), at our wits end in distress (Psalm 107). 

The Hebrew slaves, Job, Moses, Samuel, David, even Elijah, all cry out to God. 

Not inviting God to be among us, but demanding it. 

Assuring God, the place of honor among us, the highest seat of them all. 

And so God accepts our invitation. 

An invitation to experience our pain, our suffering, and to vindicate us all in our humiliation. 

To lift us all out of our low places. 

That was our cry, that was the sound of our pleading. 

And God responds through Jesus the Christ, the Prophet, the Priest, and the rightful King. 

And we acknowledged his place among us, we acknowledged his role, proclaiming that his seat would be a place of honor. 

And lift him up into his place, we did. 

The God and King we all cried out to, was the God we lifted high, into that lowly place in humiliation for all to see. 

But it is in that image that we bizarrely find an odd hope. 

Because it is in that image we find a God like no other god. 

We worship the God who takes the low place and raises it high above any other. 

And from that exalted lowly place feeds us all, inviting all those whose scorn placed Christ there. 

A feast in which we are implored to sit and receive in faith that bread and that wine. 

We are only asked to extend that table beyond our own walls, extending the meal of hope that we not only cannot repay, but praise be to GOD, we aren’t even asked to. 

Amen

The Raising of the Cross Giulio Cesare Procaccini
c. 1615-1620 Public Domain

Deceiving Ourselves

Luke 13:10-17

Jesus heals a woman on the Sabbath. By Matthias Gerung c. 1530 Public domain

Having been a homeowner, father, and husband, living in a dorm during a semester of seminary away from my family, wasn't the most pleasant experience. 

It was formative, however. 

It is where I met one of my dearest friends. 

Away from my family, we supported one another during a time when we didn’t know many of our classmates. It was his first semester and I had just transferred from Union. 

Adapting to the surrounding culture was difficult for me and one day a classmate offended me so greatly, that I returned to the dorm room, completely enraged. 

As I paced my floor in the tiny dorm room, frustrated and overwhelmed by anger, my friend came knocking on my door. 

He asked if I was okay and when I explained how offended and angered I was, he asked if I had prayed for this particular classmate. 

Shocked at his suggestion, especially given the explanation of the exchange, I simply asked, 

“DO WHAT!?”

“It’s up to you” he replied “but I’ve always found it is healing for me when I pray for those I feel the greatest contempt for.”

There is a reason he is such a good friend to this very day. 

I took his advice, and it actually helped. 

He came back to see how I was a few hours later and I told him how much it had helped. 

It was amazing how my prayer for someone I resented so much, helped me to feel invested in that person, despite the certainty that this same person would chastise and antagonize myself and other classmates many more times to come. 

I shared all of this with my friend and a few days later, I came knocking on his door. 

That day, I found him pacing his room, throwing things, red faced and enraged, while sharing a few choice words. 

When I sat down to talk with him, I found that he had been angered by the very same individual who had angered me a few days prior. 

As my friend took a breath between his rants and descriptions of the same classmate I myself had previously confronted, I seized the opportunity to ask him, with a smile on my face, 

“Did ya pray for him?!”

The response to my advice was a far cry from “thank you” in case you were wondering. 

~

Today’s Gospel tells us the story of a woman who has been disabled by sin, bound to it in fact, for 18 years.

Regardless of her bondage, she enters the synagogue seeking a place to pray, a place to worship. 

She never asks Jesus to heal her. 

She just comes to the synagogue to worship, to be in communion with the Divine.

She doesn’t seem to have come seeking Jesus and she doesn’t seem to know that it is through him that she will be healed.  

She comes to the synagogue, however, to be changed -healed- through worship, through prayer,  because the function of prayer is not to influence an immutable God, but it is to change the nature of the one who is praying to God.

She comes to the synagogue seeking the same thing we should all be seeking when we come to God on the Sabbath, in prayer, and especially in worship. 

God’s redemptive change in us, all of us, no matter who we are, no matter what role we play. 

It is why I, myself, turn to face that altar during the order of confession, because I too am seeking God’s redemptive change in my own sinful self during the order of confession and forgiveness. 

SACRAMENTUM POENITENTIA
By Francesco Novelli - Amad. Gabrieli c. 1800 Public Domain

And although she may not know the change that is about to take place through Jesus, she comes longing for that change. 

Because she knows she should be condemned by her sin, even if we are not told just what sin it may be. 

Her symptoms are irrelevant, but the disease is clear, when Jesus proclaims that she has been bound by the adversary; sin. 

Yes, she is bound, enslaved, tethered to this disease of sin and could justifiably be condemned by it, just as we all could be. 

BUT… She knows it and she does not deny it.

Sisters and brothers, if the Church is called to be a hospital for sinners, who can we expect to come to such a hospital?

Because it is only the one who knows that they are sick who seeks the healing care that is needed. 

The first step in being healed is to know that we are all diseased by sin, afflicted by it, bound to it. 

~

No one likes getting sick, when we initially begin to feel the symptoms of our own ailments, we try to deny what those symptoms are pointing to. 

I am not certain that there is ever a time when this is a greater reality than with children. 

A few years back, my daughter kept rubbing her ear, crying, complaining, and acting agitated. 

I was home, spending a few weeks experiencing the single parent life my wife had been living just prior to taking a trip to Israel. 

Something seemed obviously wrong and my first assumption was an ear infection, but she wasn’t talking yet so I couldn’t ask. 

I called my wife to let her know I was taking my daughter to the doctor, only to be informed that I had NO idea what I was talking about. 

While we were on the phone arguing about my limited medical expertise, my daughter became sick to her stomach. 

Both of us being in such a rational state of mind, I delivered the mature response my wife anticipated upon hearing the commotion through the phone. 

“I told ya SO!” 

I hung up and immediately took my daughter to our pediatrician. 

Whenever I took the kids in to see him, we would always wind up talking about music and Torah. 

Maybe that is why I liked visiting the doctor. 

But on this day, obviously frustrated and angry that my wife belittled my vast medical knowledge and parenting skills, he gave me some sound advice. 

Upon discovering my child’s burst eardrum which is what caused her vast symptoms he advised; 

“Look man, give your wife a break! I’m a doctor. I studied medicine for EIGHT years. 

I’m a partner in a private medical practice. I’ve received awards for pediatrics. 

But when it comes to my kids, my wife still believes that Google will provide the best medical advice she can find, because I’m her husband and all wives KNOW, we are idiots!

I mean, do you really want them to believe we are smart? Consider the expectations that would carry!”

He was right, but I’ve also found that the more we deny the symptoms of our own disease, the tighter the grasp of the illness that takes hold, until eventually it cripples us. 

The Sick Child By Edvard Munch c. 1907 Public Domain

~

The greatest denial of our own symptoms and sickness is to project it onto others.

Sometimes by just proclaiming that another is sicker than we are, believing that if someone else is suffering symptoms greater than our own, we are given the chance to deny our own sin. 

Sisters and brothers, this is nothing more than cheap law. 

God’s law is given to us as a gift, just as God’s grace is a gift, freely given. 

It is meant to be used as a scalpel, a medical tool to cut the infection of sin out of our lives with God’s grace freely given to be the balm that heals those wounds. 

But when we use the law to condemn other’s bondage to sin, the law becomes nothing more than an accusatory broadsword, striking others down maliciously while masking our own sin, denying the reality of our own symptoms. 

It turns the gift of God’s law into a cheaply bought form of illusory self denial.

Perhaps herein lies the cardinal sin associated with the human institution of the church; self righteousness. 

But it is by that truth that we are all equally condemned, not you, not me, but WE, we all. 

This is the reality that the leader of the synagogue clearly denies when he abuses the law by not recognizing that if he too has come to the synagogue to truly commune with the one true God, 

he too has come to seek the redemptive change that this woman undeniably receives.

But it is not the change one can receive if they do not first acknowledge that it is needed in the first place. 

The leader of the synagogue does not directly confront Jesus because he knows that is a fight he isn't going to win.

So he picks on the one whose sin has already been exposed, the one who is most vulnerable to being accused, because it is her sin, fully exposed that has brought her to the synagogue in the first place. 

But Jesus’ response is about as straight forward as it can come. 

He calls it like he sees it, not only comparing their own care for animals to the lack of care they show for this daughter of Abraham -abusing the sabbath as a day off rather than the most important work day of the week-but Jesus is comparing the close attention to the care of animals to their own lack of attention to unbinding their own ties to their own sin. 

It is in that moment that the leaders are not necessarily put to shame, but they are given the opportunity to recognize their own shame. 

The leader is not condemned by the words of Jesus, but he is now freed by Jesus, because he recognizes the shame of his own hypocrisy.

The hypocrisy of denying his own sin. 

And in that recognition he is freed to be healed himself knowing that he himself -although not physically buckled over by the symptoms of his own sin yet- suffers the same disease and is invited to come to the table and be healed by the same hand. 

~

Last week, while attending Churchwide Assembly,  we stayed in a hotel, on the edge of the French Quarter in New Orleans.

While I attended numerous seminars, speeches, and networking opportunities, I couldn’t resist my walks into the French quarter daily, especially Bourbon Street. 

It was probably the most enlightening experience of the entire week.

I’ve been many places in my life; 

But out of all those places, I’ve never seen a place where such an air of permissiveness prevailed. 

It was any wonder why many delegates, Deacons, and Pastors locked themselves in their rooms at night. 

I won’t describe the sights, or even the sounds -although the blues band I heard three nights in a row was amazing- but as I walked among masses of people engaging in behaviors that certainly wouldn’t spruce up a job resume, 

I had to ask the question, what makes me different?

Intersection of Bourbon and Orleans in the French Quarter of New Orleans

As I crossed the intersection of Orleans and Bourbon Street, asking myself this very question one night, I was almost drawn to tears. 

Standing in the middle of this intersection, immersed in the filth and dabauchery of a nighttime Bourbon Street party, I looked straight down Orleans Street where I saw the shadow of Christ -with his hands raised high above us all- a mere block away being reflected on the outer wall of St Louis Cathedral. 

It was in that moment that I realized, in the midst of all the sights and sounds of Bourbon Street there is NOTHING that separates me from the behaviors and actions I was surrounded by. 

But in taking off that Mardi Gras mask that denies just how susceptible I am to sin, maybe I can reach out in faith, vulnerable and exposed, just like the woman in our gospel lesson today, and accept those gracious hands that are reaching out to me. 

Maybe we all can. 

Amen.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock

Van Gogh, Waiting Room 1882 (Public Domain)

Luke 12:32-40

The late Irish comedian, Dave Allen once said that the most important thing we as parents do, is teach our children about time. 

He explained how he had broached the subject with his own child, informing him, “I’m going to teach you to read the clock.”

To which his child asked, “Why?”

“Because it is important”, explained Allen, “that you know the time.”

To which his child again asked, “Why?”

“Because how would you know when to get up and go to school?”

“Mummy would make me,” came the obvious answer.

“Well, what if mummy wasn’t there!?” retorted Allen.

“You’d make me,” came the second obvious response.

“What if we both weren’t there!?” impatiently questioned Allen.

“Well, then I wouldn’t go to school,” replied his son simply.

~

There are many issues at the center of the Gospel for today; 

The Kingdom of Heaven,

Watchful vigilance,

Responsible anticipation,

But central to all these issues is an underlying concept: time. 

In a world where time is considered such a high commodity, I wonder how far removed we are from the parables that we hear today. 

Especially when we throw around catchy phrases like; 

"Live like there is no tomorrow."

"Live each day like it is your last."

"Live as if you’ll only live once."

"Live like you are dying."

All these quotes imply that there is no future, no promise, no hope. 

And this notion of limited time is a prevalent attitude for obvious reasons. 

Any understanding of heaven, or this kingdom that Jesus speaks of in today’s Gospel,  is an abstract idea to us.

It is an idea that we blindly subscribe to with little thought or rational consideration. 

So, then just WHAT exactly IS assured when Jesus speaks of this kingdom?

What exactly are we buying into when we consider the future prospects of this heavenly kingdom?

Or maybe we should think about it this way?

Given that it is vacation season and we live in a beach community, just WHAT amenities are being offered in this kingdom?

Jesus seems to recommend giving alms and resigning ourselves from our need for possessions, almost as an entrance fee, but when he talks of treasures that no thief will approach or moth can destroy?

It seems obvious we aren’t talking about a modern sense of paper or coin currency.

Any tangible goods seem out of the question as well.

So, when the disciples, the religious leaders, and Jesus’ followers ask questions about this kingdom, we shouldn’t find it as any surprise that we keep asking the same questions about this kingdom and prodding for further details to this very day. 

Today, I can only stand before you and tell you with the utmost certainty that I can only name one objective or definitive amenity, commodity, or treasure in the kingdom of heaven - 

Infinite time. Eternity. 

Isn’t that the only consistent description of the kingdom that we can name beyond a doubt?

A place that goes beyond the limitations of a beginning or an end.

A place where we are not only rejoined with the priesthood of all believers, but a place where we ourselves are not subjected to any ending, instead being assured an eternity, eternal life.

Petrov-Vodkin, Anxiety 1926 (Public Domain)

~

When the1993 film, Groundhog Day was released, it had a fairly decent reception in the box office. 

But the movie Groundhog Day has become a bit of a cult classic over the years, perhaps because it speaks to something we hear in our text for today. 

The film portrays Phil Connors, a Pittsburgh weather reporter, who is sent to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover the annual festivities that surround the groundhog on February 2nd. 

Phil, played by Bill Murray, is disgusted with the assignment, and he finds himself trapped in Punxsutawney following a snowstorm. 

Not only trapped in the town, but trapped reliving the same day, over and over, in a time loop. 

Initially, Phil makes poor use of the situation, knowing he will suffer no consequences for stealing, taking advantage of the residents of the town, or just living in a generally debaucherous fashion. 

But Phil comes to find himself becoming depressed as his alarm clock wakes him from sleep day after day to the tune of Sonny and Cher’s I Got You Babe.

Increasingly hopeless, Phil unsuccessfully attempts to break the time loop, by kidnapping the groundhog and even ending his own life. 

By the end of the film, Phil has given up trying to break the time loop, and he has accepted the fact that he will remain reliving his groundhog day for an eternity. 

In that moment, Phil realizes the infinite significance of each moment of his day. 

He comes to find that he can impact every life in that town. 

Not because of his gifts or his actions, but because he fully realizes his gift of that one day. 

And it is in the treasure of the life he lives in that one day, Phil finds the value of his eternal life. 

~

The gift of the time we have in this life deteriorates into the past in just one fleeting moment.

And when we realize this, we hold tight to what is now: our possessions, our relations, our mortality, our time. 

If we cannot value the treasure of every moment of this life, then how will we truly treasure the eternity of the kingdom?

We are not called to live life like there is no tomorrow, we are called to live life the way we want to live eternally. 

We are not called to live each day like it is our last, we are called to live life like it is our everyday.

We are not called to live as if we’ll only live once, but as if in that one moment we live eternally. 

We are not called to live like we are dying, we are called to live life like we are on the verge of living a life like no other, an eternal life.

Because sisters and brothers, THAT is the promise. 

But when we live our lives, seeking insurance for the life we have, we become invested in ourselves. 

The value of our lives becomes reflected in the possessions we accrue, numbers in bank accounts become symbolic of our personal worth, and that is not who we were intended to be. 

The parables shared today describe lives that are not lived for the purpose of insuring the lives or the time that we HAVE,  but they describe lives that are fully lived because of trust in the assurance of an eternal kingdom. 

And if we believe in that promise that is assured, why would we not be excitedly anticipating that reality rather than anxiously holding onto our fleeting moments?

Boudin, Fisherwives Waiting For The Boats To Return 1875 (Public Domain)

~

I can’t claim that this is an easy message to hear, because it is not an easy message to proclaim. 

We all live in a state of anxiety and unease, given our own uncertain outcomes as well as the uncertainty that surrounds others we know and we love. 

This week my family and I had the opportunity to meet up with the widow and gold star wife of one of the Marines I once served with while she was here in Virginia visiting on vacation. 

Her husband looked out for so many young Marines, including myself, and was considered a role model to everyone who knew him, especially those who served with him. 

The day he died, time stopped for many of us, including his wife. 

Years later, she remarried and today she has two beautiful children. 

This past week, when we got together, our children played and we talked. 

But on our drive home, I wrestled with the fact that the man who had been central in our relationship had not come up once. 

We talked about our kids, the other Marines and Corpsman we stay in touch with, work, and all the common everyday conversations that we once avoided. 

But for a few years it seemed like I avoided talking about anything but him whenever I saw her. 

As if I was trying to insure her that his memory was still with us. 

As if I was trying to insure that he would not be forgotten, or his sacrifice taken for granted.

But now, he hardly comes up, and I know he is still very present in our thoughts whenever we meet. 

I couldn't figure it out. Were we all of a sudden scared to talk about him?

Had his memory become taboo?

As we pulled back into town, I frantically searched for a picture of his tombstone realizing;

THAT was where I would find the answer. 

You see, Joe’s favorite song was the 80’s hit, Final Countdown by the Swedish rock band Europe. 

The same one you hear at sporting events and on the Geico commercial. 

People used to tease him about it and how bad the song was, but when his wife commissioned his tombstone, under the Eagle Globe and Anchor, his name, dates, details, and the cross of Christ,

Right at the base of the tombstone the words are etched into his grave:

“See you at the final countdown.”

In that moment, I think I figured it out. 

She doesn’t need insurance, because she fully believes in the assurance, 

And in that faith she has in that promise, she continues to live, knowing she will one day be with, not only the family she presently has, but with Joe in a state of eternal perfection and love, together. 

~

Sisters and brothers, we have been entrusted with the treasure of our limited time, here and now. 

And in the absence of the master who has entrusted us with that gift, we can hoard that time anxiously uncertain. 

Or like that amazing woman I still know and love so dearly  

-because of not only her character, but her faith-

we can be freed to live lives knowing time as not the commodity we hoard, 

but the never-ending treasure we have been assured upon the master’s return. 

It is in that moment we can fully embrace the infinite significance of every moment certain that joy and nothing less will find us

And we will find ourselves not only being blessed but being a blessing to others.

And light, love’s own crucified risen light, will find each and every one of us

All the way to that home in the eternal kingdom. 

Amen

Correggio, The Vision of St. John On Patmos
1520-1523 (Public Domain)

Sources

Brisson, Carson. Summer Intensive Hebrew Class. Union Presbyterian Seminary, July 12, 2012.

davidwrightatloppers. “Dave Allen - ‘teaching your kid time’ - ’93 - Stereo HQ.” YouTube. October 5, 2009. Posted August 5, 2016. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0QVPUIRGthI.

Europe. “The Final Countdown.” on The Final Countdown. n.p.: Epic Records, 1986, CD.

Kierkegaard, Soren and Howard Vincent Hong. Kierkegaard’s Writings, XII: Concluding Unscientific Postscript to Philosophical Fragments, Volume I. Edited by Edna H. Hong. United States: Princeton University Press, 2009.

Ramis, Harold and Danny Rubin. Groundhog Day. Directed by Harold Ramis. USA: Columbia Pictures, 1993. Film.