Those Challenging Moments - sermon

 

Luke 6:18-19, 22-23

Acts 16:16-40

5/8/22 

               In Sunday sermons we mostly focus on the gospels, but last week, this week and next week, we instead are focusing on the book of Acts.  The truth is that well over half of our New Testament is written by or in the name of Paul.  His story, and the messages he brings to us have had a huge impact on the Church, and on Christianity as a whole.  The book of Acts, in many ways, is a book about the beginnings of the church, of Christianity, but it, too, in large part focuses on the story of Paul.  So spending some time on his story and his messages has value for us, if only to understand better the history of the church, where we have been, where we have moved to, and where we are heading forward.            

               In today’s passage from Acts, then, we hear of the imprisonment of Paul and Silas.  What struck you as odd about this story?  We tend to read these stories with great seriousness, but the truth is I find this to be a particularly amusing story at many points.

1.        Paul became really annoyed with this woman who was, frankly, helping him spread the word.  We don’t know why he became annoyed, but he was irritated with her presence.  He was so annoyed that he “took her gift” away: calling the spirit of divination out of her so she could no longer be a fortune teller.  Is that a gracious way to behave?  Here is a disciple who is extremely human acting in an extremely human way: responding to his own emotions in a way that could not possibly be helpful.

2.       The “owners” of this slave girl had been cashing in on her gift.  So when Paul called it out of her, they were notably upset.  They then responded by throwing Paul into prison on trumped up charges.  Okay, we know this happens.  Still, what a funny, or odd, part of this story.  Paul’s behavior in reacting out of annoyance led him into prison.  Wasn’t very thought out action on his part, was it? 

3.       Those in the prison are set free and yet they don’t leave.  Now what on earth is that about? 

4.       The guard asks to be “rescued” – and I assume he is talking about escaping the wrath of the Romans who would have had his head for letting the prisoners go free.  But Paul doesn’t tell him how to be rescued.  He tells him, instead, how he can be “saved”. 

5.       The legal people learn that Paul is a Roman citizen, so now they are embarrassed by the way they treated him and have to apologize for it all.

6.       In their embarrassment, then, they beg Paul to leave the area.

All in all, it’s a very weird story.  Don’t you agree? 

As with all biblical passages, then, we are called to go deeper.  What is this story trying to tell us?  Is there a message here for us, something for us to learn and deepen from?  And if so, what is the message here for us? 

There are several things I want to point out about this story.

First, the “crime” that actually sends Paul to prison here is an economic one.  Yes, the owners of the slave girl turn it around and accuse Paul of an uproar in the city center.  But his actual “crime” was cheating these owners of their ability to use the slave girl for economic gain in this way.  Paul and Silas are attacked, beaten and imprisoned because of the greed of these “owners” of the slave girl.  This is true of today, too.  In many ways what looks like politics really comes down to economics.  Those who have don’t like it when they are faced with the possibility of less financial gain and they will still, to this day, come up with other excuses, even make up stuff, in order to act out their fear, their anger of losing what they have.  They too tend not to be gracious or compassionate but go for the jugular, attacking, killing, imprisoning and harming others. This is true at an individual level and it is true in a communal or corporate level.  Greed and the fear of loss do huge amounts of damage in our world.  In this way the story is cautionary for all of us.  Do we, too, out of our economic fears, harm others?  Do we, too, out of our economic fears, weave stories that appear to be about other things than what is really at the heart of the situation so that we can seek revenge or enact “justice” on those who would take from us moneys that we may not have earned in moral ways in the first place?  What causes us the most fear and anger?  And how do we deal with that when it does come?  Do we attack and harm out of our fear and anger?  Or are we able to step back?  To self-reflect and to act with love and grace towards the world around us? 

Another point that I gain from this story: Paul acts in a way that, at some level, frees the girl.  She can no longer be used and taken advantage of anymore because of this gift that she has.  Her “gift” has been cast out.  But he doesn’t do it out of compassion.  He does it because he is annoyed.  And for me this story then calls me to look and consider the times when God is able to use even our flaws, our impatience, our annoyance, to accomplish good things in the world, to bring life out of death, to bring freedom out of captivity, to bring release out of imprisonment. 

The girl relates to Paul.  She is a slave to an owner.  She accuses Paul of being a slave of God.  But she does see the difference: Paul’s “slavery” frees him, while her slavery imprisons her.  It is interesting to me that Paul does get annoyed with this.  After all, she is giving him free advertising.  The passage says this goes on for “many days”.  Maybe he just became tired of hearing her voice.  Whatever, the reason, he “frees” her from what her owners see as a gift, and what to her must have felt like a burden.  But the truth is that we never learn what happens to the girl after this event.  We don’t know if the owners then acted out in anger towards her for no longer being a source of income for them.  We simply don’t know.  Even the author of the book of Acts does not really see some people except as characters in his story.  He, too, overlooks the life of this small one, this “slave girl” in order to focus on his hero.  Jesus would have done differently, I am sure.  But this is a story about the early church and not about Jesus.  And as such, it behooves us, while we can marvel at the good that can come out of bad at times, to still do our best by other people: to have long-sight, long-vision into what our reactive behaviors can do to others.

Finally, the jailer asks to be rescued.  He knows he needs to be rescued.  He understands that because the prisoners have gotten out, that he is in danger and he needs help.  It will be assumed that he has let the prisoners go and he will lose everything as a result.  So, he is asking to be rescued.  But I would say the difference between him and us is that he recognizes his need for rescue.  Do we know we, too, need to be rescued?  And if so, what is it that you need to be rescued from?  What enslaves you?  What holds you captive?  What keeps you from true freedom?  What things imprison us?  Is it a list of “shoulds?”  I SHOULD do this, I SHOULD do that.  Is it a list of societal expectations?  We are expected to do this, expected to do that.  Is it work that is difficult?  Is it our bodies’ limitations?  Is it a worldview of scarcity?  Of fear? 

I think that if this story has anything at all to teach us, it is to, once again, look at things differently.  Would you be able to sing God’s praises and pray with joy if you were unfairly beaten with rods and thrown into prison?  Probably not.  But why not?  Why do we not see our challenges as opportunities for growth and deepening?  And how do we learn to reframe our lives, our challenges? 

There are studies that show that laughter changes us.  I think the saying, “well, I could laugh or I could cry” is an accurate representation of some of the choices that we have about how we see, interpret and understand what happens in our lives.  Can we learn to laugh at things when we feel like crying?  There have also been studies that show that when we smile, it actually improves our mood.  That while we usually think we smile when we are first happy, it can work just as well in the other direction: smile first and then feel happy.  Singing is also shown to create the endorphins in our bodies that lead to feeling well. 

But I think it goes deeper than that.  I think that our culture teaches us to connect through complaining, through our hardships rather than through our joys, and that trains us to see the bad, even in situations that are mostly good.  I will use myself as an example here.  As I’m writing this it is a glorious day outside.  The sun is shining, I can hear birds singing, trees are blooming with flowers.  I worked on this in March, so this week is my birthday, my daughter’s birthday, my mom’s birthday is next week.  I’m siting here thinking about my kids: all of whom are doing really well.  Middle is starting his very exciting internship this week, Eldest is about to graduate and has been accepted into their first choice of grad school, Youngest is looking at colleges, got to go to San Diego with a choir tour, is finishing her junior year.  I have a wonderful husband who is kind, loving and generous.  I have work that is fulfilling and has so much variety in it.  Things are good.  But what did I talk about today with Kristi and Sandy in the office?  I complained about something my son said rather than focusing on the fact that he reached out to me.  I complained about the pollen from the trees making me sneezy rather than delighting in the flowers.  I complained about the scam email I received from someone claiming to be in need of help (though giving me an address that wasn’t real, a “lease” form that had clearly electronically created signatures, a phone number that was marked by google as “scammers”, and asking me to MAIL the check because she wasn’t able to come in), instead of focusing on the reality that I always have more than I need which is why they ask me for help.

Youngest told me the week that on one of the fields at her school, they put out fake coyotes on the lawn.  The intention behind the fake coyotes is to scare off the geese who are so prolific in their droppings that they create a huge mess of the field when they land there.  She then told me that even though the coyotes are extremely realistic looking, the geese eventually figured out that they weren’t real, so the school has had to start moving them around on the field in order for the geese to continue to be scared off. 

Sometimes I think that we get confused by all the fake coyotes in our own lives.  Is this thing over here really a coyote?  Dangerous?  Threatening?  Damaging?  Or does it just appear that way when we are looking for the bad in our lives?

I want to be clear.  I am not saying that we shouldn’t ever get upset.  Really bad things do happen, to us as individuals and to us as communities and to the world.  The war in the Ukraine is one of those really bad things and it should upset us and call us into action.  Terrible things happen in our lives that need addressing.  And depression is a real and formidable force that cannot just be dismissed by “smile”, “Laugh” or “sing”.  What I am saying though, is what I pray almost every week: we can be empowered to do the work of the world, to confront the issues, to face the demons, as it were, by also recognizing the good, by remembering with joy the many, many blessings that come our way each and every day. 

If Paul can sing from prison, we can find delight in things every single day.  We are still in the Easter season and the Easter season calls us, in contrast to lent, to look for the resurrections all around us, every single day.

Don’t let the Coyotes, those beacons of death and danger, fool you: they are fake coyotes after all.  The birds, on the other hand, with their beauty and with their scat: they are very real.  So delight in the green grass, celebrate the life of the geese, and be empowered to remove the “stuff” left behind.  Amen.

Sermon - 5/15/16: Deepest Faith

Acts 2:1-21
1 Cor. 12:3b-13
John 14:8-17

Pentecost

Faith.
It gives us eyes to see.
It invites us to celebrate the gifts of the Spirit.
It invites us to consider more deeply what those gifts are really for.
It invites us to use them for God’s glory.

Pentecost is the birthday of the church, a day for celebrating that God called us into being, brought the Spirit down upon those who were open to seeing and hearing, and united all by reversing the tower of Babel – instead of people no longer understanding each other, all could and did understand. It is an amazing incredible day to remember the power of the Spirit and the gifts that the Spirit gives to our community.
The story of Pentecost also shows us that those who were not open to hearing and seeing God coming, those who could not see with eyes of faith continued to fail to receive what people of faith do receive.  People who either cannot or will not open their eyes in wonder to see God miss out.         They missed the party, they missed the celebration!  God included everyone in this event.  Even those who would not see were included in the party and invited to experience the amazing gifts of the Spirit on that day.  But those who could not see with faith could not accept into themselves the party gifts of the Spirit.  They missed what God was doing so vividly right in front of their eyes.  They explained the Holy Spirit’s coming in terms of people being drunk.  The fact that those in the room could understand each other across language differences and barriers, that their experience was described as tongues of fire descending on each person, that the room was filled with a sound like rushing wind – that someone could try to explain this as people simply being drunk shows how far some would go to deny an experience of God’s presence with them.  But I find myself again being moved with pity for them.  They missed out.  They truly missed out on the amazing blessings and experience and gifts that the Spirit was giving them on that day.  And I feel simply sad about that loss for them.
Faith gives us a different perspective.  Faith allows us to frame the events in our lives in very different ways.  Are the difficulties that come our way problems for us to whine about, or are they blessings, opportunities to grow and learn and deepen in our faith?  Is the weather that we experience just the interesting ebb and flow of the seasons?  Or is it God’s reminder to us that what we experience today will be different tomorrow, that there is hope, there is movement and all of it is glorious?  Everything is seen and experienced differently when we do it with eyes of faith, eyes that seek out God.
In the series, Joan of Arcadia, God talks face to face with a teenage girl. God appears in the different people that surround Joan and at first Joan is really unsure why this is happening to her.  She asks God, “why are you appearing to me?” To which the God figure responds: “Correction: I am not appearing to you.  You are perceiving me.”  I think there is great wisdom in that.  God is all around us.  But our sacred moments, our moments when we are touched by the Divine happen when we have the vision to perceive God.  Again, we see the miracles, we hear God’s voice, we see God’s presence, we receive the Spirit, only when we are open to perceiving it.
             There used to be a restaurant called the Bella Italia Inn, which had no inn attached to it at all.  It was an Italian restaurant, though the owner/cook was Indian.  This was the first thing you would notice when you walked into the restaurant - the Indian cook behind the counter in the kitchen cooking the food.   In case you missed this, you would be reminded of it by the choice of music - Indian music playing over the speakers.  The waitress who worked there was from Central America, and spoke very little, if any, English, only Spanish.  The decor in the restaurant was an odd mix of quality and...lack of quality - the wood work in the restaurant was high quality, truly lovely stuff.  But the tables would rock back and forth on their uneven legs.  The rugs were beautiful, but filthy both with current grime and with deeply set stains.   Drinks that you would order would be brought to you in glasses that didn’t match.  The last time I went, my friend was given a beautiful large crystal wine glass out of which to drink her coke, and I was given a beautiful, small and differently designed plastic wine glass out of which to drink mine. There were beautiful glass oil and vinegar holders on each table right next to the cheap plastic salt and pepper shakers.  If you were able to order your food (if you were able to communicate with the Spanish speaking waitress) she would bring you hot food on cold plates, and cold food on hot plates.  If you asked to split your dessert, they would “split” your two layer piece of chocolate cake by cutting off the top layer, so that one of you gets all the frosting and the other all the filling.  The waitress wouldn’t bring you a spoon with your spaghetti nor a pen with the credit card slip if you pay by credit card.  If you ordered mineral water, they brought something that wasn’t carbonated.  One time when I went, I had to wait for an hour to be served, though it was obvious that there was only one other couple in the entire restaurant - “we’re understaffed tonight,” we were told.  But in the midst of this very chaotic and strange place, the food is fantastic.  The seasonings exquisite, everything cooked to perfection.   Truly wonderful Italian food cooked by this Indian man in these strange circumstances.  If you were put off by the circumstances, the décor, the incongruity of the place, you would miss out on one of the best Italian meals in the Bay Area.  We could have seen the problems, but instead, we experienced the gifts.
             I had the privilege while studying in college of volunteering with an amazingly loving, intuitive, giving Chaplain to the Homeless in Berkeley.  One time when we were together, a schizophrenic homeless woman approached Pastor Alexia.  Jane came over, looked Pastor Alexia right in the face and blurted out, “I am God.”  I was a young college student at the time and her statement simply made me uncomfortable.  But Pastor Alexia looked at Jane very seriously for a moment and then said, “Tell me.  I’ve always wanted to know...what exactly does it feel like to be God.”  Jane sighed and said with relief in her face, but also with an urgency to speak, to tell, “I care and love and care and love but no one pays attention to me.”  Alexia gave me a very poignant stare as we both nodded our heads in understanding.  This woman I probably would have dismissed had deep needs, but also had gifts for us: gifts of insight, gifts of wisdom.  This woman felt ignored.  I am sure she was also accurate that God must feel ignored at times.  I heard God’s voice in this woman, though it was unexpected.
Several years ago, I was helping out in Youngest’s classroom.  I was walking with the children to their computer lab when we passed the school janitor.  Youngest’s teacher said hi to the man and he responded, “Just Keep believing”!  But as he said it, he turned to me and locked eyes with me for just a moment.  And I had that feeling, that feeling of being hit by lightning, that feeling of having heard a message just for me, that feeling of having met an angel, a messenger from God who had something that I needed to hear in that moment.  If this stranger had actually spoken these words to me directly, I doubt that I would have taken them in the same way.  I would have heard them as trite, or would have felt “preached at”.  He was the janitor, someone some people might dismiss.  But through his voice in that moment and at that time, I saw God.  I heard God.
           Albert Einstein said, “There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle.”  That is faith.  That is what faith does for our perspective and our experience of the world.  That is what happened for some on Pentecost.  They experienced the Spirit, the gifts of the Spirit, the miracle of God’s presence with them because through their faith they had eyes to see.
Which isn’t to say that the people of faith who were there got it right.  The disciples were still, even now, even after Jesus’ return and even after this amazing event, they were still getting it wrong.  What did Peter say about this?  He assumed that the world was ending!  He assumed that this gift signaled Jesus’ return and the beginning of the end days.  As he said, “this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:  ‘In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.   Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy.  And I will show portents in the heaven above and signs on the earth below, blood, and fire, and smoky mist.  The sun shall be turned to darkness and the moon to blood, before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day.”  Well, that’s not what was happening.  The sun was not turned dark on that day of Pentecost, the moon was not turned to blood.  And Jesus did not return in a few days’ time to usher in the end of the world.  But their experiences were so deep and profound that Peter could not simply be in them, could not simply accept the gift of the Spirit’s coming, but had to try to interpret it, make sense of it.  It would have been better if he had just experienced the gifts but perhaps even then his faith was still growing, developing and he wasn’t yet in that place where he could just be with the Spirit.  
Poem:
The man whispered, "God, speak to me" and a meadowlark sang.
But, the man did not hear.
So the man yelled, "God, speak to me" and the thunder rolled across the sky.
But, the man did not listen.
The man looked around and said, "God let me see you." And a star shined brightly.
But the man did not see.
And, the man shouted, "God show me a miracle." And, a life was born.
But, the man did not notice.
So, the man cried out in despair, "Touch me God, and let me know you are here."
Whereupon, God reached down and touched the man. But, the man brushed the butterfly away,
and walked on."
Even when we have faith sometimes we still miss God.
 
Faith.
It gives us eyes to see.
It invites us to celebrate the gifts of the Spirit.
It invites us to consider more deeply what those gifts are really for.
It invites us to use them for God’s glory.
Can you see?  Can you experience God?  That is the gift that our faith invites us into.  Come to the party!  Celebrate what God has done!

Sunday's Sermon - Lord, Save Us!

Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29

Luke 19:28-40

In a small college town a tavern frequented by students ran the following ad in the campus paper during the days before Parent’s Weekend: “Bring your parents for lunch Saturday.  We’ll pretend we don’t know you!”  The ad was soon challenged by the college chaplain, who posted a revised version on the campus bulletin board.  It read: “Bring your parents to chapel Sunday.  We’ll pretend we know you!”

Our laughter in part, I think, reflects our realization that our expectations for people can blind us to who they really are.  If we expect our child to be the one bringing us to chapel, that is what we often will see.  So it is with Jesus as well.      

Today we read the story we tell every Palm Sunday, the story of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. In a sense, this is the same story as the advent stories of Jesus’ coming. Or at least there are strong parallels. During advent we prepare for Jesus’ coming as a baby. And we are reminded that his coming will not be what we expect. He won’t be the king of the powerful and rich, he will be king of the poor and outcast, not born in power and might, but born as a poor baby. He won’t make things comfortable but will disrupt and disturb the status quo. Today, he comes again: this time into Jerusalem at the end of his life. And again, the people of the time are filled with expectations which will not be met. In the Matthew, Mark and John versions of today’s scriptures, they shout “Hosanna!” which means?  It means, “Lord save us!” or “Lord Help us!” And they had every expectation that this salvation would come in the form of stopping the oppression of the Romans in a military way.

We are again called to look for Jesus in the unexpected, to look for God’s presence in new ways. To look beyond the triumphal march into Jerusalem and instead focus on Jesus’ message for us and his call for us to follow in his ways of love, peace, sacrifice and hope.

Jesus was the lord of the outcasts, the lord of the poor, the lord of the marginalized and displaced. And this day, the day of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem was his day. It was also THEIR day.  He entered Jerusalem to the waving of palm branches, on a donkey’s colt (according to the other gospels), with the multitude of his followers placing their cloaks on the ground before him. He was surrounded by those who had been healed of their afflictions, those he had empowered, those he had freed, those he had loved, and they were so excited by his coming! Their king, their lord was entering Jerusalem! They believed he would save them, that he would take back the city and he would free Israel from the oppression of the Romans. He would lift high the lowly and everything would be okay again. Can you imagine the excitement? Jesus would make all their pain go away, he would make it good, he would bring blessings, freedom and shalom, peace, wholeness to Israel.  This was a day to rejoice indeed.

The Pharisees, the righteous, those who still had some power and some wealth and some freedom, even in the midst of Roman occupation were also present. But how differently they must have seen things! Here was this carpenter’s son, this Jewish man on a DONKEY - a sign of humility and poverty, not a grand royal horse, but a donkey. And here he was surrounded by the outcasts, the poor, those who had no power or resources, the “riff raff”. How could they really think this man would make a difference in their lives? How could they really think he could help them? They laid their cloaks on the ground before him - a gesture usually reserved for royalty.  But what cloaks! These were not rich frocks covering the dirt to provide a clean and royal ride for a king. Instead they were rags, used clothes, hand-me-downs, worn to threads - a symbolic gesture for a clown king. What a joke!! How could this man be a king? How could he do anything with this rag tag group of people to make their lives acceptable? 

In addition, the Pharisees were undoubtedly more than a little nervous about the scene Jesus and the disciples were making. The Romans did control Jerusalem. What if they felt threatened by this man? Who would they punish? Probably all of Israel - starting at the top. No, the Pharisees figured, it was important that this man and this demonstration be stopped before there were violent repercussions and more hardships inflicted on them from the Romans. 

And then there is Jesus’ perspective. This was Jesus’ day - the only day during his life time that the work he had done and the message he brought were honored and supported and uplifted in this grand way. For within a week the crowds would become disappointed by his lack of military action. Within a week they would have turned on him. Within a week he would be dead. And Jesus saw this. He knew that he was not the kind of king they wanted. He was never going to be the military man, come to overthrow the Roman rule. He was never going to be like our mortal, human kings. Instead, he was a king of love. He was a king of peace. And the difference he came to make was not military or violent. It was to change people from inside, to heal, to empower, to teach them to see everyone as brother and sister and to rejoice in that love. And if he could succeed in teaching people to love each other, that would make a difference far greater than any military or violent action possibly could. For Jesus, this was the day to celebrate. It was also a day to grieve for the people still didn’t get it. They still didn’t see him or his message. They were still expecting something different.

What version of Jesus do we see? What expectations for Jesus do we have? As we read today’s story about his entry into Jerusalem do we see, like Jesus’ disciples, a king who will rule the people and lead them in triumph? One who will return in glory to take over and make everything fair and right? I think most of us would hope for that. Most people, indeed most Christians, still expect a returning Jesus to overthrow our current governments and rule with might and strength. But that has never been the God Jesus has shown us. Do we, then, like the Pharisees, see a weak fool who really will not be able to effect positive change but may instead make things worse by creating fear in those who do have power? Or… can we instead see the man of the marginalized who will confront us for our riches and power and ask us to change our ways and serve the poor and marginalized? Can we see and expect a man who will upset the status quo, upset our comfortable lives by overturning the money changers in the temple – demanding a counter cultural behavior instead, ask from us actions of love instead of simple work towards making money, or friends or power? Who do we see? What do we expect?

“Lord Save us!” the people cried. They cried it in trust that he would save them. They cried it with hope and expectation. They cried it with joy and celebration. And the fact is, if they had listened he would have saved them, but again, not in the way they expected or wanted. When we can change our lives around from being fearful, angry, and hating into being people whose lives are truly governed by LOVE (which includes gratitude, faith, hope, trust, peace), then our lives ARE saved, they become different, they are changed into lives of meaning, of purpose, of “eternal life” in the sense of becoming so much bigger than ourselves. But this is not the way people then, or now, want to be saved. We want to be saved from our pain, from our grief. We want to be saved from financial struggles and worries. We want to be rescued from anything that hurts us or is oppressive, demeaning, unfair. We forget that we are called to be the change we want to see, to be God’s hands and feet in the world. We forget and instead want to be rescued – from ourselves perhaps most of all.

Palm Sunday is a day of celebration. We celebrate the kingship of Jesus. But it is also a day of reflection. We are called to reflect on the ways that kingship is different from our expectations. We reflect on our call to look for God’s coming in different and unexpected ways. We look to see God’s glory as it speaks to us today. Open your heart to God’s coming. Open your soul to the new possibilities present this day, here and now. And maybe, instead of “Lord, save us!” we need to be shouting, “Show us how to save you through saving and loving one another.” Amen.

Sunday's Sermon - Jesus was Baptized? What does THAT mean?

Isa. 43:1-7, Luke 3:15-17, 21-22

Have any of you made New Year’s resolutions this year?  What does it mean to you to do that?  Many of us see the New Year as a good time to renew our commitments to those things we value.  As a matter of fact, we can learn a great deal about what people value by looking at their new year’s resolutions.  For many in the secular world new year’s resolutions tend to be based on self: self-care, self-satisfaction, looking better, feeling better, and sometimes being better - but often by making more money, becoming more famous, being more healthy, etc..  We know this.  What are the most common new year’s resolutions?  To lose weight and to exercise more.  This matches with our culture which is very “me” focused.  We want to look better so we commit to losing weight.  We want to feel better, so we commit to exercising more.  What are some other common new year’s resolutions?

Okay, now what is baptism?  When you think about your baptism, what does it mean to you?  Many of us were baptized as children and for us then it is a sign of God’s choosing us, of being adopted or claimed as members of God’s family and of the family of the church.  We baptize our children as a recognition of the promise that God loves us and claims us even before we are capable of responding to that love with faith.  But for people baptized as adults, their baptism is something different.  For adults, and even older children, as well as for the parents of those babies who are baptized, baptism is a rebirth, a washing away of the old self, a commitment to acting as God’s children as much as we are capable with God’s help, a new beginning, a  beginning again. 

In some ways it has similarities then to the commitments we make at the new year.  Baptism affords us an opportunity to look at our lives and make some changes or recommit to the values we hold dear.  It is a time to recommit to acting as God’s children.  It’s appropriate to begin the new year with a renewal of baptismal vows because it is a washing clean, a rebirth, a starting over.  As Frederick Buechner says, “Baptism consists of getting dunked or sprinkled.  Which technique is used matters about as much as whether you pray kneeling or standing on your head.  Dunking is a better symbol, however.  Going under symbolizes the end of everything about your life that is less than human.  Coming up again symbolizes the beginning in you of something strange and new and hopeful.  You can breathe again.”

For Jesus, too, baptism was, in a sense, a rebirth.  The beginning of his ministry, the marking of him as God’s son was done through his baptism and the descent of the Holy Spirit claiming him as God’s own.  As we are called to follow Christ, we too practice the act of baptism, of renouncing evil and of accepting the rebirth that comes through acknowledging and celebrating God’s love and grace.

In the Presbyterian Church, we believe that it is only necessary to be baptized once.  Only once are we given the personal experience of rebirth through baptism.  Yet every time a baptism takes place, it is an opportunity for us to recommit to our baptism vows as well. 

     In the book “The Good News from North Haven” (Pocket Books, New York, NY, 1991) Michael Lindvall tells the story of a Presbyterian Minister in the far reaches of small-town Minnesota.  At one point the pastor was asked to baptize a baby whose mother had grown up in the church.  The catch was that the mother herself was still a child, she was a teenager.  In this small town the pregnancy of a single, young girl was punishable by extreme ostracism, especially in the church.  Many in the congregation strongly disagreed with Tina’s decision to keep her baby.  And some felt that baptizing the child was somehow sanctioning Tina’s elicit behavior as well as her decision to keep the child, rather than giving it up to “responsible” or rather, adult, parents to raise.  But Tina was a member of the church and church rules dictated that her baby would be baptized within the church walls if she so desired. One of the practices of this particular congregation was that at the beginning of any baptism, the pastor asked “who stands with this child” and the extended family of the baby was expected to stand for the rest of the ceremony.  But Tina and her baby had no family. The anticipated embarrassment of this particular event for Tina as well as for the congregation was painful to everyone in the church. But church tradition and church rules were not to be challenged and so the time came for the baptism to begin.  The narrator of the story, the pastor continued, “Down the aisle Tina came, nervously, briskly, smiling at me only, shaking slightly with month-old Jimmy in her arms. The scene hurt, alright, every bit as much as we all knew it would. So young this mother was, and so alone. One could not help but remember another baby boy born long ago to a young and unwed mother in difficult circumstances. I read the opening part of the service...Then I asked, ‘Who stands with this child?’ I glanced at Tina for only a moment before my eyes went quickly back to my service book. 

I was just about to ask Tina the parents’ questions of commitment when I became aware of movement in the pews. Angus MacDowell had stood up, Minnie, his wife, beside him. Then a couple of other elders stood up, then the sixth-grade Sunday school teacher stood up, then a new young couple in the church, and soon before my incredulous eyes, the whole church was standing up with little Jimmy. 

Tina began to cry, holding on to the pew as though she was standing on the deck of a ship rolling in a great wind, which, in a way, she was.  The unexpectedness of this departure from the routine at first disquieted but then quieted us all.  Every eye was on the child, who was for a moment, everybody’s baby.”

For every member of that church that day, for every member who stood with that baby and made a commitment to God to raise this baby in the way of God, a baby they had initially wanted to reject, a mother they had initially chosen to ostracize, the baby’s baptism was a rebirth, their rebirth.

Today, on this baptism of the Lord Sunday, I invite you also to recommit to your baptism vows, to accept again the cleansing, renewing, re-birthing love of Christ, to promise again to be God’s people acting with love, compassion and justice in the world, to follow Jesus in the way of renewal and new life.  Today we will do this through a renewal of our baptismal vows.  

Being "fools" for Christ.

For those of us who take seriously the words as ascribed to Jesus in our scriptures, there is a definite belief that love conquers all.  There are the words "do not resist an evildoer but turn the other cheek" and "you have heard it said, love your friends, but I say, love your enemies".  There is definitely something "unrealistic" or "impractical" about all of it, and yet, we are called to believe in it, to fight for it, to created the world of love, to "bring the kingdom to earth as it is in heaven" (whatever it is you believe heaven to be).  We are not called to fight hate with hate, but to fight it with love.  We are not called to seek revenge or even to punish an evildoer.  Instead we are told to not judge and to love the unlovable.  This isn't what our current politics espouse in any form, but these are the words of Jesus.  For those who say they are Christian and yet espouse hatred, fear and self-protection at the cost of harming ANYONE else, I can only say you either haven't actually read the gospels, or you just plain don't take it with any seriousness.  There isn't room to be "practical" or to fight hatred with killing, to self protect with violence, fear, or anger.  There isn't room for revenge or even punishment. Those things we are supposed to leave up to God.  Is this easy?  Of course not.  Are we expected to fail sometimes?  Of course.  But to claim that violence, killing, hatred are ever Christian responses is to utterly fail to understand the gospels.

I will, again, admit that those who say that these practices aren't "practical" are right at some level. Even our scriptures tell us to be "fools" for our faith, believing, hoping, trusting, and choosing love even in the face of hate where there is no sign that these will get us what we want.  The very fact that scripture calls us to be fools for believing in these values shows them to be different than what many who look for practical will find.  Our idealists who espoused these values (whether Christian or not) worked to change the world, and I believe they have - MLK, Carter, Kennedy, Ghandi, etc. They were idealists.  And while their policies may not have been practical they changed the world, and they did it without violence, without hate, without killing. Ultimately, we do create the world we want.  But unfortunately, it is equally true that those who work to keep the world practical, and who therefore fight against the belief that love conquers all also have a hand in creating the world and they fight hard, refusing to believe in the possibility of a world where love genuinely and completely wipes out fear, hatred and darkness.

I find I have no comprehension for those who claim to be Christian and yet who espouse violent reactions to things they don't like. I simply don't understand if they have failed to read the scriptures they claim to believe or if they simply don't take them seriously. They sometimes quote scripture, but it is always Old Testament or occasionally Paul's writings.  It is never Jesus.  EVER.  So if you don't believe in the words of Jesus, stop saying you are Christian.  Just own that you aren't. Stop dragging the name "Christian" through the mud of hatred, fear, violence and killing when that is so very antithetical to the teachings of Jesus.  Just STOP.

Unfortunately, there are too many of those folk out there right now.  There are just too many who live by fear and hate and call it practical (many even dare to call it Christian. Again, have they actually READ the gospels?).  There just don't seem to be enough who are brave enough and faithful enough to choose to live by love at whatever cost.

And I have to admit, it breaks my heart, on a daily basis.

Sunday's Sermon - What Comes Out

What Comes

Song of Solomon 2:8-13

James 1:17-27

Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

8/30/15

         “Nothing outside of a person can enter and contaminate a person in God’s sight; rather, the things that come out of a person contaminate the person.”  I found myself thinking about this passage a great deal over the last few weeks, especially as I was confronted, again and again, with values that are different than what our faith teaches. 

I began thinking around this when I noticed a magazine cover in the grocery store that said this, “Hair, sex, money, happiness” and then under all of that in bold letters it said “Goals”.  And as I stared at this magazine cover, as I reflected on the popular TV programs and the ads that sprinkle through those TV programs, as I thought about conversations overheard in the parent night at the kids’ schools and in the grocery store, I realized those really are the goals for so many in our society.  Hair (or appearance), Sex (or physical pleasure of any kind), Money and Happiness - maybe even in that order.  Some people believe that the first three lead to the last – happiness.  But I’m no longer convinced that even Happiness is the goal our faith sets for ourselves.  Jesus never said, “Do whatever it takes to be happy.”  Instead he said, “Pick up your cross and follow me.”  Picking up one’s cross does not make one happy.  It may bring joy, the joy of meaning, the joy of connecting with God.  But happy?  No.  Being willing to die out of love for our neighbors is not about being happy.

The truth is, being happy is an American value.  It is not a Christian one.  I want to repeat that.  Happiness is not a Christian goal.  Still, I want to be clear.  This doesn’t mean that we won’t find happiness or that we shouldn’t be grateful for life.  But the fact is that setting happiness as the goal often has the reverse result of the one we want it to have.  When we think we should be happy, when we think being happy is the goal, it is in fact harder to be happy.  I’ve shared this before in a blog post for those who read my blog, but a good friend of mine was born and raised in Holland.  And one of the things that she pointed out to me years ago was that people in other countries tend to be much more content, much more joyful, much happier than people in the United States.  And one of the reasons for this is simply that we who were raised here tend to expect life to be happy and easy and fair.  My friend told me that in other countries people don’t expect ease or justice or happiness.  They expect that life will be hard.  But because of that, they take the gifts of life, the good things that happen to them, each one, as exactly that – an unexpected gift that they then enjoy and appreciate with much greater depth.  When things go wrong, they just expect that so they shrug it off.  It’s life.  That’s what life is, no big deal.  But when things go right?  That’s unexpected and amazing and wondrous and to be celebrated.  In contrast, here in the United States we are constantly bombarded with the messages, “you deserve this!”  “Claim your happiness!”  “It’s all there right for you!”  “If you think positively, it will be yours!”  “You deserve to be pampered and spoiled and happy.”  And as a result, when things go wrong, which they will because that is life, we can’t handle it.  We think it’s unfair and not right.  And when things go well, since we believe that’s is how it is supposed, we don’t appreciate it. 

               But the point I want to make here is that whatever it is that we value, those values truly define what we become, who we are and how we act.      Thomas Merton put it this way, “a life is either all spiritual or not spiritual at all.  No one can serve two masters.  Your life is shaped by the end you live for.  You are made in the image of what you desire.”  Thomas Merton was really quoting Jesus when Jesus said it like this, “No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be loyal to the one and have contempt for the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.”

So, if what you desire is, like the magazine declared, “hair, sex, money and happiness,” your life will demonstrate those values.  Your resources will be aimed towards achieving and obtaining those things, and therefore that is how you will spend your time, your money, your energy. 

             But as I said at the beginning, these are not the things that Jesus calls us to value.  We know what Jesus calls us to value:  The passage in James put it like this, “True devotion, the kind that is pure and faultless before God the Parent is this: to care for orphans and widows in their difficulties and to keep the world from contaminating us.”  Micah said it this way, “What does the Lord require of you but to love kindness, to do justice and to walk humbly with God.”  In John, Jesus said it like this, “Love one another.  By this you will be known to be my disciples, if you love one another.”  And in the other three gospels Jesus said it more simply still:  “Two commandments I give you: to love God with all your heart, soul and mind. And to love your neighbor as yourself.” 

When we fail to do those things, that is when we “defile” ourselves.  It is not what goes in, it is what comes out of a person.  It is what a person says, it is what a person does, it is how a person behaves, which says everything about who we ultimately are.  The Pharisees had a lot of rules, they were good at following those rules.  But when it came to actually caring for the people who were most in need, they did not follow God’s will or obey what God asked them to do.  Their lives reflected their values.  They valued church authority.  They valued the rules.  They valued a hierarchy and a ranking of people that allowed them to appear superior, righteous, above others.  And in turn, they treated those who they did not “rank” as equal with disdain and without compassion.  Their behavior defiled them.  If you really want to know what a person’s like, what they value and therefore who they really are, take a good look at how they treat those they consider inferior, not those they consider equals.  That poor treatment of those who have less, those who appear inferior, that is what defiles.

               I have a story to tell you that is really more about education and educators than about being a good follower of Christ.  But I think it is appropriate since we just began school this week, and also because I think it, too illustrates the point I’m trying to make:

The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life. One man, a CEO, decided to explain the problem with education. He argued, "What's a kid going to learn from someone who decided her best option in life was to become a teacher?" To stress his point he said to another guest; "You're a teacher, Bonnie. Be honest. What do you make?"

Bonnie, who had a reputation for honesty and frankness replied, "You want to know what I make? (She paused for a second, then began...)

"Well, I make students work harder than they ever thought they could. I make a C+ feel like the Congressional Medal of Honor winner.  I make kids sit through 40 minutes of class time when their parents can't make them sit for 5 without an IPod, Xbox or netflicks.

You want to know what I make? (She paused again and looked at each and every person at the table). I make kids wonder. I make them question. I make them apologize and mean it. I make them have respect and take responsibility for their actions.  I make them care about serving other people.  They use their God given brain, and they learn that their brain was made to love and grow in understanding. I make my classroom a place where all my students feel safe and respected.

Finally, I make them understand that if they use the gifts God gave them, work hard, and follow their hearts, they can succeed in life…

(Bonnie paused one last time and then continued.)

Then, when people try to judge me by what kind of salary I make, with me knowing money isn’t everything, I can hold my head up high and pay no attention because. …. You want to know what I make?  I MAKE A DIFFERENCE.”

--

               What do we value?  Do we value the things we are taught by our culture to value?  Appearance, popularity, money, things?  Getting what is best only for me and for mine?  Or do we value service, meaning, purpose, caring – love for God and God’s people?  Our lives tell.  Our lives show.  It is what comes out that defiles, not what goes in.  And similarly, it is what comes out that makes a difference for the better and can change the world.  Not what goes in.  Amen.

Sunday's Sermon - Christ the King

Ezek. 34:11-16, 20-24
Matthew 25:31-46

Today is Christ the King Sunday, the day we honor that Christ is our king, not the earthly kings that we are used to.  We know from the book of Samuel that the Israelites had asked for a human king repeatedly, against God’s wishes and against God’s will.  They had begged God for a king when God kept telling them the only king they needed was God.  And finally God gave into their demands but God did so with a warning, (from 1 Samuel 8:4-20):  “This is what the king who will reign over you will claim as his rights: He will take your sons and make them serve with his chariots and horses, and they will run in front of his chariots.  Some he will assign to be commanders of thousands and commanders of fifties, and others to plow his ground and reap his harvest, and still others to make weapons of war and equipment for his chariots.  He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers.  He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive groves and give them to his attendants.  He will take a tenth of your grain and of your vintage and give it to his officials and attendants.  Your male and female servants and the best of your cattle and donkeys he will take for his own use. He will take a tenth of your flocks, and you yourselves will become his slaves. When that day comes, you will cry out for relief from the king you have chosen, …”
     They didn’t want God for a King.  And yet today we celebrate that God, that Christ is and will be our king.  Still, I wonder what we actually mean by that when we say it?  What do we envision when we think of Christ returning as king?  Do we continue to envision the kind of king we think of when we think of earthly kings?  I believe many Christians do, at some level at least.
     When the Israelites were asking for a king, they were asking for something very specific.  From the same Samuel passage I quoted above, this is what they asked for, ““We want a king over us. Then we will be like all the other nations, with a king to lead us and to go out before us and fight our battles.” In other words, when they asked for a king, they were mostly looking for someone to defend them against others.  When you think of kings, or government of any kind, what do you think of?
When you think of Jesus, what do you think of?
       No matter how much we may think that when it comes to Jesus we have let go of the images of “king” that we have based on our human leaders, there is evidence all around us that most people, even when they think of God as king, have in fact not let go of those images.  Starting in Jesus’ time, he was killed because the Jewish people were disappointed at the kind of kingship he brought – he disappointed them by not overthrowing the Roman Empire.  And at the same time he was a threat to the Roman leaders who were afraid that he still might have the agenda of overthrowing them.  Everyone recognized his kingship, but they could not grasp, could not begin to grasp, that it was completely different from what they thought a king was like or what they thought a king would do. Our hymns on this day hail Jesus.  But I wonder if that is what Jesus would be wanting us to do this day?  Is Jesus asking us to sing his praises?  Or is he asking us to feed his hungry people?  Is Jesus asking us to argue theology with each other?  Or is Jesus asking us to welcome the stranger, all strangers, any stranger?  Is Jesus asking us to sue those who would take from us, an “eye for an eye” or does he challenge that with the words, “You have heard it said an eye for an eye, but I say to you that you must not oppose those who want to hurt you. If people slap you on your right cheek, you must turn the left cheek to them as well.  When they wish to haul you to court and take your shirt, let them have your coat too.  When they force you to go one mile, go with them two.  Give to those who ask, and don’t refuse those who wish to borrow from you.”
     Instead of the earthly king who sits on a thrown and protects against enemies, we are given very different images of what and who Christ the King is through scripture.  “I will seek out my flock.  I will rescue them when they have scattered.  I will feed them.  I will bind up the wounded and strengthen the week.”  But then also, “the fat and strong I will destroy.”  Notice it isn’t “the enemies” whom he will destroy.  It isn’t “those other people”.  Instead, it is those who are doing well while others are hungry and lost and week and wounded.  Which are we?  Are we really sure we are prepared for this kind of king?
     This king expects different things from us than our earthly king expects.   Earthly government may take a percentage of our resources.  And earthly government does require, at some level, our allegiance.  But God the king expects us to share ALL of our money and resources.  ALL of it.  And God wants our allegiance in a complete way.  God the king expects different things from us than we are may be comfortable giving.  In today’s passage from Matthew, Jesus is not saying, “Worship me on Sunday mornings and then you will get into heaven.”  That’s not what he is asking us to do.  As a matter of fact, scriptures are pretty pointed about this not being the solution.  As Amos tells us, in Amos 5:21-24: I hate, I reject your festivals; I despise your joyous assemblies. If you bring me your entirely burned offerings and gifts of food—I won’t be pleased; I won’t even look at your offerings of well-fed animals. Take away the noise of your songs; I won’t listen to the melody of your harps.  But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”  No, instead Jesus tells us what we are expected to do…  Feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, welcome the stranger, clothe the naked, care for the sick, visit those in prison.  Those are what we are called to do.       That's not to say that we are called to become the poor or needy - to become homeless ourselves or destitute.  But we are called to help, in any way we can, to make sure that others aren’t suffering either.
      Jesus is not the kind of king, as he states in today’s passage, who has guards who will fight for him and prevent him from being killed.  Instead Jesus is the kind of king who allows his subjects to kill him and who dies begging for his killers’ forgiveness.  He is the kind of king who then comes back from death to reassure and save the very people who killed him.  He is not the kind of king, as we hear repeatedly, who caters to the wealthy and powerful, but instead is the kind of king who reaches out to the marginalized and powerless, who condemns the wealthy and powerful.  He is not the kind of king who luxuriates in riches and in being served by others, but instead is the kind of king who serves others continually.  He is the kind of king who IS king simply because he IS.  And he is the kind of king who asks us to follow and do as he did, feeding, caring, loving, one another.  Amen.

Assumptions - Part I: what it is to be a Christian pastor.

I don't interact with the non-churched world all that often.  The reality is that most of my friends are pastors or college friends who lived at the campus ministry center with me, or parishioners, etc.  Most of the folk I interact with are comfortable at church, choose to be there and like being in that environment.  Even those who aren't or don't choose to be are usually people who have known or do know the church or members of churches well enough to not judge us based on the fact that we attend church.  They see us or at least strive to see us as the individuals that we are.  But I've had occasions more recently to be around people who are not church folk.  And it's been an education.  The biggest part of that education includes learning about the assumptions that I've found many non-churched people make about churched folk, and especially about pastors.

Here are some of the most common assumptions:
1.  All we care about is converting those who are not church folk.
2.  We reject science completely.
3.  We are crazy and fanatical.
4.  We think there is only one way to be in life and one way to believe and one way to practice faith.
5.  We will judge everyone we meet.
6.  We believe everyone who doesn't believe the way we do is going to hell.
7.  We walk around with little hypocritical halos on our heads pretending to be better than we are and completely failing at being so.

Okay.  Not one of these applies to me.  Not one.  To be more specific: I'm not interested in converting others.  I don't see that as my call.  Your path and your relationship with God are your own.  I don't presume to assume how others should be on their faith journeys.  If you are interested in deepening your faith, and would like me to be part of that, I am happy to walk with you in that journey.  If not, that's your life and your business.  I still value you as a human being and I still find that you have worth while things to contribute to the world.  And if you are an atheist, well, you have your own relationship with the Universe, or with humanity, or with whatever it is you do believe in.  That, too, is your own path and not for me to judge. I love science and really enjoy science programs and scientific theories.  I think that science answers the question "how" while religion answers a totally different question - and that is "why". I may be crazy, but not because I'm a person of faith ;-).  Who am I to judge anyone?  I haven't got it right.  No one I know has got it completely right.  But we are all on a journey, all on a path of some kind, and all striving to make sense and meaning from our lives and to bring light to our part of the world.  The only "hell" I know is the one that some of us have lived through here and now, including myself and my family.  And even in that horrible place in our lives I found God still present, so how is that really hell?  I don't know what happens after we die, and again, I don't think I'm a good one to determine for God what happens for any one individual.  I do think that whatever happens, we will still find ourselves loved by something beyond ourselves.  But that applies to you, whoever you may be and whatever you may or may not believe.  I think most people try to do good.  And all of us fail at times.  I'm not better than anyone else.  And I don't try to be better than anyone else.  I try to be the best ME I can be, and I try to have the best relationships with God, others, and self that I possibly can.  I don't see it as being hypocritical that I go to church or even serve in a church.  Jesus himself said, "I came not to call the righteous, but sinners". So if I had it completely right, I wouldn't need church, would I?

I look at the people I hang out with who are churched.  They are all wonderful, but are not what others assume either.  Some swear up a storm.  Some have thoroughly tattooed bodies.  Some had children out of wedlock.  Some have partners to whom they are not married.  Some are divorced.  Some are gay.   They all have lives, which means they've all experienced joys and griefs, challenges and surprises. They all had teenage years, which means they mostly went through rebellious and experimental stages just like other folk.  They, too, would not possibly fulfill the assumptions or expectations of some of those I have recently encountered -  thanks be to God!!

I find it very troubling that people feel it is okay to make these assumptions.  I realize we all make assumptions about other people and that at each time period, different assumptions are socially acceptable and others aren't.  For awhile it was acceptable to make prejudiced assumptions about people based on their ethnicity.  In many places we now see that as wrong.  For awhile it was acceptable to make assumptions about blonds.  Maybe that one still is acceptable in some areas.  For awhile it was acceptable to make assumptions about people of other faiths - Jewish people, Islamic people, Buddhists.  I think many still make assumptions about these people, but in other places these kinds of prejudices are no longer acceptable.  There continue to be people who struggle with heterosexism and ageism and sexism and racism, and many of those assumptions made are also erroneous, and in some places acceptable and in some places not.  Right now it seems more than acceptable to make assumptions about Christians.  And the Christian Right doesn't help by claiming the word "Christian" as something they proclaim exclusive rights to.  But, to be the judgmental person I just said I would strive not to be, it shows an amazing arrogance and self-righteousness to judge any other person by a label, especially when you have no personal knowledge of them.

I don't like being written off by assumptions.  And it saddens me a great deal when I lose the opportunity to get to know someone because of their assumptions about me.  I try to be philosophical about it, and tell myself I must not be missing that much if they are a person who makes those kinds of assumptions without taking the time to check them out.  But I'd be untruthful if I said it didn't bother me when I am summarily dismissed without a second glance based on what I do, especially when so many of the assumptions are just plain wrong.  But what can I do?  If a person fails to give me the time of day simply because of my profession and my faith, there is no opportunity to counter the assumptions made. Do I limit my interactions to church people?  I don't choose that because I do think there is wisdom and light in all kinds of people and I want to meet and know that as well.

So I take the chance.  I take the chance of meeting others and I hope to encounter openness in those I meet.  When I don't, I hurt, but then strive to accept it and move on because there isn't another choice about it anyway.

But the good news for me in this is that it calls me to pay better attention to the assumptions that I make.  Because as I said before, we all make assumptions, some with intent, and others without even a thought.  It calls me to pause before I assume why someone looks or acts the way they do.  It calls me to pause before I assume why someone has made the choices they have made.  It calls me to pause before I assume why someone has been cranky or even mean...because we don't really know what a person is going through, what has led them to where they are, or why they make the choices they make.  It even causes me to pause before I make assumptions about why that other person is making assumptions about me.  Who knows why they are judging me as a pastor, or as as a person of faith?  I don't really know.  So, I need to set the example, and allow that there are things beyond what I can and do know.  And that, regardless of the missed opportunities or missed friendships, that it is okay for them to be on a path that means we will not get to know each other more fully.  That's their journey.  And I can't make assumptions about what that means for them.

Today's Sermon - Turning it all on it's head

Isaiah 35:1-10, James 5:7-10, Matthew 11:2-11

      The message that Jesus sent to John was that those who were blind are able to see,  Those with severe disabilities are able to walk, those with disease are cleansed, those who are deaf now hear, those who are dead now live, and the poor hear the good news.  What is interesting about all of these words in Greek is that while they do have the literal meanings of seeing, being disabled, being unclean, hearing, etc….there is also a choice in the use of these Greek words.  There are other words for sight in Greek, for example that just mean physical sight.  But the word that is chosen here means more “perception”.  The perceptions are named as false – the perceptions that what matter are material things, and royalty, and men in refined clothing (to quote vs. 8).  Jesus first reassures John and then confronts a crowd who have many in it who still cannot see.  Why are they there?  What have they come to experience and see?  Did they come to see the famous?  The wealthy?  Those with power on earth?  If so, if they have come to be part of the glorious of this world, they are in the wrong place.  But, as Jesus said to John, those who are perceiving wrong are being challenged and changed.  Their perceptions will be cleared and they will finally see and understand what is really important.  Those who cannot see the truth will finally see – wealth, popularity, earthly power – these things are not what matters, they are not what God is about.  And the deaf, those who have failed to hear the Good News that God comes to be with us not, again, as a mighty kind, but as a helpless baby who will find himself crucified on a cross, and who, when he rises, will not use that power to “punish” his enemies or to overthrow the governments, but instead will continue to preach love and peace and forgiveness – those who have been deaf will finally hear this.  And those who have been bent over with shame and pain and humiliation, they will finally find the strength to stand up for what matters and to be part of ushering that in.  And those who have been isolated by diseases that cause them to be unclean will take their place in society and refuse to allow the judgments and condemnations of others hold them back.  And those who are dead, who fail to live, who fail to find joy or meaning or purpose in this life – they will finally live, they will get that the things they thought would bring life meant nothing.
      Jesus has declared this good news.  He has declared that it is here, it is happening.  With his coming, our perceptions and our choices are changing.  Why?  What changes us?  What brings us to a new perception?  I know that there are people even today who follow Jesus who are still waiting for him to return as a mighty king who will overthrow governments and come in wealth and splendor.  Who will bring us wealth and splendor.  Have they not heard?  Have they not seen?  What will open their eyes?  What will cause any of our visions to be different, any of our visions to be opened and expanded into real sight?
     I found myself reading a great deal about Nelson Mandela this last week again.  And one of the things I found most interesting was that it was in prison that he developed his non-violent and reconciliation stance.  People were waiting for him to emerge from prison and lead them in a bloody revolution.  They expected him to lead them in fighting and to bring about change through violence.  But he came out different than that.  He came out from a living hell into the sun and preached forgiveness.  He came out claiming that he would be staying in his own prison to stay in anger or to act from a place of seeking revenge.  Mandela was changed in the least likely place in the least likely way.  Why?  Through time in prayer, meditation, prayer, study, prayer, reflection, he was changed into a person who was able to bring out a complete change in South Africa because he approached the conflict with a deeper vision of reconciliation, forgiveness and love for ALL people.  What changed him?  Prayer, study, meditation.
      Eldest reminded me yesterday of this line from Charles Dickens’ “a Christmas Carol” during which the Ghost of Christmas present is showing Scrooge a conversation that Bob Cratchit is having with his wife.  Mrs. Cratchit asks how little Tim behaved.  “As good as gold,” said Bob, “and better.  Somehow he gets thoughtful sitting by himself so much and thinks the strangest things you ever heard.  He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk and blind men see.”  Is that what we would think?  Or would we wonder why the person who made lame beggars walk and blind folk see had not given Tim healing as well?  Would we find ourselves hoping that maybe through prayer Tim would be changed eventually?  Or would we step up and claim that a people whom God has led into sight, hearing and life, that we are called to help Tim walk ourselves?  And would we see that in so many ways, Tim was already walking with far more strength of purpose and love than we yet have learned to do?
What can change our perceptions?  What can open our eyes to see the God who turns it all around? who cures, and feeds and heals and brings good things to all people?  What can change that perception?
     God does.  And encounter with God.  That is the only thing that can change our perception.  But that encounter, as we read each advent and Christmas, will never be what we expect, when we expect it, or how we expect it.  What changed the people we talked about today?  The shock of a genuine encounter with God.  It was the shock of encountering God in the most disabled child calling for a blessing on the most closed hearted people.  The shock of encountering God in a prison after being placed there for trying to set people free.  The shock of God coming to us as a poor baby to a young mother, and declaring that the blind can see, the lame can walk.  The shock of encountering God as we see Jesus’ declarations actually take place before our very eyes…that those who once had nothing, no legs to stand on, no resources to support them, no eyes that could see are those who now see or ears that could hear now do hear, see, and stand tall, living lives of depth and meaning.  The shock of encountering God when our lives are turned on their heads.  Jesus.  God in Jesus.  God with us, Emmanuel.  That is what changes us.  And that is what God calls us to this Advent.
In today’s gospel, John is asking if Jesus is the one.  He asks as he, himself, sits in prison, wasting, suffering.  He asks because he needs the joy that only that shocking encounter of God’s reversals in life can give us…..the joy that says, life is not about what we think it’s about.  Life is not about the comforts of now, it is about the blessings of God which are eternal.  Life is not about the material wealth of now, but the grace of God that is for always.  In Jesus message, despite John’s suffering, Joy is to be found.
The message is the same for us.  In our hardest times, in our times of the deepest struggle, God says, that in this, there is sight for our hurting and lost perceptions.  There is healing for our aches, though it may look different than what we have thought or hoped for.  There is renewal and grace and vision.  There is Jesus.  And with Jesus everything is new, everything is different, everything can begin again.

 Peace be with you.  Amen.

Today's Sermon - Christ the King

Jeremiah 23:1-6, Luke 23:33-43

     On Christ the King Sunday we celebrate and remember that Christ had many roles and functions, and that one of them is as King, King of us, King of creation, King of all.  But the question, as always, is, Who is this Christ?  Who is this king?
     When we think of royalty, when we think about rulers of any kind, we have certain visions in our minds.  We have certain understandings of the kind of strength, power, and authority that it takes to lead a world, a country, a state, a city.
     But always, ALWAYS, when it comes to God, when it comes to Christ, we are handed a vision and understanding that does not, CANNOT be anything like what we think.   In order to understand THIS king, I think it can be helpful to return to our original Biblical stories of what a ruler and king are.
     The Hebrew people were told, from the beginning, that God was their God.  They were told that because of who God is, God’s strong presence in their lives, God’s overarching leadership and most of all, God’s amazing and faithful love, that the Hebrew people needed no other ruler, no other guide.     But the Israelites were scared.  They were scared to be a nation without a clear leadership who could defend them, lead them into battle, show them as a united and strong people.  They insisted, they asked for a ruler.  God gave them judges, people who could help them make decisions and interpret right from wrong.  But again, these were not what the people wanted.  They were afraid.       They didn’t believe they could rely on God alone against other nations.  We hear the rest of this story in the book of 1st Samuel, chapter 8.   “Now when Samuel got old, he appointed his sons to serve as Israel’s judges. 2 The name of his oldest son was Joel; the name of the second was Abijah. They served as judges in Beer-sheba. 3 But Samuel’s sons didn’t follow in his footsteps. They tried to turn a profit, they accepted bribes, and they perverted justice. 4 So all the Israelite elders got together and went to Samuel at Ramah. 5 They said to him, “Listen. You are old now, and your sons don’t follow in your footsteps. So appoint us a king to judge us like all the other nations have.” 6 It seemed very bad to Samuel when they said, “Give us a king to judge us,” so he prayed to the Lord. 7 The Lord answered Samuel, “Comply with the people’s request—everything they ask of you—because they haven’t rejected you. No, they’ve rejected me as king over them. 8 They are doing to you only what they’ve been doing to me[a] from the day I brought them out of Egypt to this very minute, abandoning me and worshipping other gods. 9 So comply with their request, but give them a clear warning, telling them how the king will rule over them.”[b]10 Then Samuel explained everything the Lord had said to the people who were asking for a king. 11 “This is how the king will rule over you,” Samuel said: “He will take your sons, and will use them for his chariots and his cavalry and as runners for his chariot. 12 He will use them as his commanders of troops of one thousand and troops of fifty, or to do his plowing and his harvesting, or to make his weapons or parts for his chariots. 13 He will take your daughters to be perfumers, cooks, or bakers. 14 He will take your best fields, vineyards, and olive groves and give them to his servants. 15 He will give one-tenth of your grain and your vineyards to his officials and servants. 16 He will take your male and female servants, along with the best of your cattle[c] and donkeys, and make them do his work. 17 He will take one-tenth of your flocks, and then you yourselves will become his slaves! 18 When that day comes, you will cry out because of the king you chose for yourselves, but on that day the Lord won’t answer you.”  19 But the people refused to listen to Samuel and said, “No! There must be a king over us 20 so we can be like all the other nations. Our king will judge us and lead us and fight our battles.”  21 Samuel listened to everything the people said and repeated it directly to the Lord. 22 Then the Lord said to Samuel, “Comply with their request. Give them a king.”
     So the people were given kings.  And we’ve had those kings as models for us ever since.  We have come to expect that rulers are people who give us a certain stability or protection, but that do so at a very high price.  We expect this.  No matter where you stand politically, or who you support or what kind of government you value, we all know that there are costs we’d rather not pay to having human leadership, human rulers.
     And yet, God continues to show us another way.  God continues to show us God’s way.  And God’s way is different.  And when we could not see it from what the judges had to say, and when we could not accept it based on what the prophets had to say, and when we could not live it based on what God said to us through scriptures and stories and people and history, God finally sent God’s son to us.  God sent Jesus to show us this other way, this different way.  Jesus came, the real king, the ultimate king, who acts nothing like we expect or understand rulers or leaders to behave.  He doesn’t walk around with body guards protecting his every step.  He doesn’t insist on taking from us to feed his profession or the services he offers us.  He doesn’t build a strong defense system or any other kinds of large government operations or organizations.  Instead, instead he shows us something very, VERY different.  He feeds anyone who comes to him hungry.  He heals anyone who comes to him sick (and sometimes even dead such as Talitha and Lazurus).  He listens and allows even the most rejected, the least “acceptable”, the least “worthy” to physically touch him.  He includes children, women, people of different nationalities and backgrounds such as the Serophoenician and the Samaritans, he includes tax collectors and prostitutes.  He doesn’t reject them because they aren’t “the chosen ones” or part of his nation, or part of what we deem acceptable.  He doesn’t take their wealth and live in a big mansion.  He lives poorly, simply, and asks for nothing in return.  He relies on the kindness of strangers and does not worry about his own survival or well-being.  He leads with TRUTH rather than threats or negotiations.
     And when THIS king, this king that we cannot understand, this king who acts completely differently from what we want or expect or demand from our human rulers, when this king is killed, as of course he would inevitably be, this king still, on the cross, in his dying moments, behaves completely differently from any king we can imagine.  He doesn’t send for his troops to rescue him.  He doesn’t call for a start of war or revenge.  He doesn’t threaten the end to those who did this to him.  He doesn’t shout out “you will be sorry”, and he doesn’t fight back in any way.
     Instead, as he hangs there on the cross, as he dies, as he suffers the deepest pain,  he continues to think about others, others who are suffering.  And again, it isn’t the “good” people he worries about in that moment.  It is anyone, anyone at all who is suffering.  He is hanging on the cross next to two people who have done wrong, who are being killed as criminals for some atrocity or another.  Maybe they were both murderers.  Maybe they killed children.  We aren’t told.  What we are told is that in that moment Jesus doesn’t ask.  He doesn’t care what they have done.  What he cares about is that they are scared and suffering.  And in that moment, this king, who does not “rescue” them or himself, even when he is goaded on to do so, instead, in that moment, as he suffers, hanging on the cross – he offers to the criminal crucified next to him the promise of paradise.  He reaches out with the strength of knowledge and love that goes beyond any personal suffering, and he offers life, real life, to the scared and dying person next to him.
      This is the KING that we are given, the REAL king, the savior, our God.  He does not jump off the cross to save himself, despite the pain, and the inevitable death that he faces.  He does not “negotiate” or play politics.  He lives life following God to the fullest, and he pays for it with death, a death he accepts even while he loves and cares for those around him, even those whom, like this criminal next to him, we would probably not deem worthy of that love or care.
     Walter Brueggermann said it this way – “Every (government) regime is frightened…..  It is the vocation of the prophet to keep alive the ministry of imagination, to keep on conjuring and proposing alternative futures to the single one the (earthly) king wants to urge as the only thinkable one.”  Well, again, the king that we see, the king that Jesus presents is not this kind of king.  This is the king who IS the prophet, who IS the artist…who takes all of our understandings of rulers and leadership and what it is to command people, and he turns them on their head.
     This week is Thanksgiving.  And then we begin Advent.  And all of them, Christ the King, Thanksgiving, and Advent connect… all are about seeing God in the unexpected places, being grateful because we have seen God, and expecting that God, Christ, King, Jesus as a baby – will not be what we expect.
     I struggled with the sermon this week.  I struggled to write it because I am saying the same thing that is being said across the country on this Christ the King Sunday.  That Christ the King is nothing at all like the kings and leaders we think we need.  That instead Christ the King is the King GOD wants us to have – a king of love, compassion, service, selflessness, faithfulness – God wants us to have nothing else but God for our king, our leader, our ruler.  What is new in that?  What new word can I bring that you have not heard every year on this Sunday?  What stories can I possibly tell you to illustrate this reality?  But then I thought, the thing is, we need to hear this every year.  Because we are still, STILL looking for that earthly king to lead us.  We still are.  And that is not the king God calls us to have lead us.
     So how will we recognize this Christ?  How do we recognize this King?  As we enter Advent, as we come to God with thanksgiving in our hearts for all we have been given, how do we know our loyalty is to the right king?  How do we know we have found Christ again?
We will know him, as we always do, by his love.   Amen.