Showing posts with label baptism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baptism. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 11, 2022

Epiphany in Three Parts

 

John 2:1-11

Psalm 104:14-16

1/9/22

               The 6th of January is the actual day set aside for the celebration of Epiphany.  That is the official end of the Christmas season or the 12 days of Christmas.  Do you remember what Epiphany actually means?  According to several different dictionaries, here are the definitions:

·        the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi (Matthew 2:1–12).

      • the festival commemorating the Epiphany on January 6.
      • a manifestation of a divine or supernatural being.
      • a moment of sudden revelation or insight.

In the church, however, we recognize that Epiphany actually has three parts.  We say that the “manifestation of God” is revealed in these three parts.  The first part then is when the Magi show us that Christ was made manifest not only to the Israelites, but to all people.  They themselves were not Israelites and yet they were witnesses to Christ’s coming.  The second part is the Baptism of Christ in which God proclaims Jesus as God’s son.  And the third is what is described in the gospel of John as Jesus’ first miracle which we read about today – turning water into wine.  All three of these, together, are the epiphany because all three of these are thought to manifest or reveal who Jesus is.  But I find the lectionary texts for today to be extremely interesting because today is “Baptism of the Lord” Sunday and yet we are not hearing about the baptism.  Instead, we are remembering the turning of the water into wine.  We will come back to this in a minute.

               Looking at this passage, this story of Jesus turning the water into wine, there is so much here inviting reflection.  What does it mean, for example, that Jesus’ first miracle was one of celebration?  His first miracle was not of healing someone, or raising someone from the dead (like Lazarus).  It wasn’t raising someone out of oppression, or restoring a person back into their community. It wasn’t feeding people.  Jesus’ first miracle wasn’t about doing anything NECESSARY, or liberating, or holistic.  Or rather, it wasn’t doing anything that most of us consider necessary.  But the very fact that this was his first miracle, one of enhancing celebration, adding to the celebration of a wedding, of commitments made and the community gathering, has a great deal to say to us about what God values about humanity.  The miracle was one of extreme abundance and abundance in the form of joy, of good things, of life, of happiness, of celebration.  Remember that the amount we are talking about here of water turned into wine was about 40 gallons.  This isn’t a small amount: this is a huge, overabundant amount.  And the point here?  We aren’t meant to simply survive this life.  We aren’t meant to simply grow through and from this life.  We are meant to celebrate it, and to celebrate it abundantly.  Remember, Jesus came eating and drinking.  As one commentator said, “God does not want our religion to be too holy to be happy in.” (Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary - Feasting on the Word – Year C, Volume 1: Advent through Transfiguration.)

               I’m reminded of a praise song called Thrive.  The lyrics:

Here in this worn and weary land
Where many a dream has died
Like a tree planted by the water
We never will run dry
So living water flowing through
God, we thirst for more of You
Fill our hearts and flood our souls with one desire
Just to know You and to make You known
We lift Your name on high
Shine like the sun, make darkness run and hide
We know we were made for so much more than ordinary lives
It's time for us to more than just survive
We were made to thrive

Joy unspeakable, faith unsinkable

Love unstoppable, anything is possible

We know we were made for so much more than ordinary lives.

It’s time for us to more than just survive

We were made to thrive!

               This is a wonderful story about God’s abundance, and love for us to have that abundance, to celebrate, to live.

               But there are things here to struggle with as well. Commentator, Carol Lakey Hess said this, “It may seem like a travesty to turn a narrative about divine abundance into a trial of God, and yet it is passages like this one about divine extravagance that make God's absence in the face of poverty, suffering, and evil stand out. How do we reconcile a story of potent generosity with a world of tremendous need? If God is both generous and able, then apparently God continues to express Jesus' attitude: what is that to me?  Because we trust that God wants abundance (plentiful wine and lavish food are common symbols of God's grace in both the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament), we follow in the footsteps of the mother of Jesus by prodding God for divine compassion and generosity….. Theologians who grapple with theodicy, justifying God's goodness in face of suffering and evil, come to various conclusions. Some say that it is not yet God's hour; others say God relies on human compassion to do the will of God.  Still others dare to argue that God continues to need the heirs of Jesus' mother to go on prodding divine generosity…. This troubling text invites us to trust so much in God's generosity and abundance that we, like the perceptive mother of Jesus, nudge God with our observation: they have no wine.”  

What does all of that mean?  Perhaps it is a daring proposition to utter, but Jesus makes it clear that we are called to be partners with God in making this life the extravagant abundance that God is all about.  We are called to be part of it beginning with simply asking for God’s abundance to come here, to come now, as Mary did with Jesus, and as we do through our prayers.    

But that is truly only the first step.  We are also called to be part of co-creating that abundance for all people through our actions.  Carol Lakey Hess continued by saying this, “In Toni Morrison's masterpiece Beloved, a white mountain girl named Amy Denver aids pregnant Sethe as she escapes slavery. Seeing Sethe's bloody back torn from the whip and astonished by the degree of her mutilation, Amy utters, "Come here Jesus… Wonder what God had in mind."  John 2, however, reveals what God has in mind—abundance, and the mother of Jesus nudges us to ask what God had in mind—during slavery, the genocide of Native peoples, the Holocaust. And Amy Denver does here what the mother of Jesus does in John 2—she poses the question and nudges the Divine.”  But I would add that she didn’t just ask God for intervention.  She stood on the strength of God to intervene herself, to stand up for injustice, to confront it, to change it, at least for the person right in front of her.  Mary asked for what she wanted: prodded, poked, demanded, stood up for it until it too was granted.  And again, that is what we are also called to do: to work for what we believe is right and just.  To work for all people to have the abundance that God has created for all of us to share.

            I think about some of the big times when people in this very room have done that.  And you have.  Despite the energy and time that it cost you, people in this room have taken on the care of someone else.  Many of you have taken people into your homes and cared for them, in some cases for just a night, in other cases for months and even years.  Some of you have spoken out against prejudiced comments and injustices.  You have given of your time, resources, talents to be part of helping others.  You pray, and you act.  And in doing both, you bring abundance and you celebrate abundance.  When we make feasts for the people of Winters Nights, we are bringing and celebrating abundance.  When we raise money for Monument Crisis Center or Hope Solutions, we are providing abundance.  When we provide tutoring for Hope Solutions, we are celebrating the abundance of our time, our resources.  When we help provide clean laundry and food, we are providing and celebrating abundance. 

            On this Baptism of the Lord Sunday, we remember that Jesus was called and blessed in his baptism and that we too are called and blessed in our baptisms.  We remember that just as Jesus prayed and acted, we are called to do the same.  So why would we be listening to the story of the water into wine on this day?  Because that story of abundance is deeply connected and tied to the story of Jesus’ call.  It is a sign that at the heart of Jesus’ ministry, of Jesus’ call is the promise of abundance, of life, of good things, of celebration.  And it is a reminder that as we, too, are called in our baptisms, we too are to be bearers of abundance to a world struggling to feel it has enough, is enough, will be more than enough, will be enough to celebrate.   

As we are bearers of this message and light, we recognize that we have two parts to that bearing and both are necessary – the praying and the doing.  Through both, Jesus continues to be revealed.  And God’s work continues to be done.  And through both, we bear abundance.  Jesus was enough.  The world has enough.  And YOU are enough.  The sooner you believe that, the sooner you will be able at act as the bearer of abundance that you are.  Thanks be to God for abundance, for calling, and for the ability to step into that abundance with hope, joy and promise.  Amen. 

Monday, January 14, 2019

Baptism of the Lord


Isaiah 42:1-9

Matthew 3:13-17



               What is baptism for you? 

               For me Baptism is several things, but it starts always with a recognition that God has called us before we can even respond, before we are even aware.  We honor God’s choosing us when we baptize our children, our babies who cannot choose it for themselves.  We also honor God’s choosing us when we say “yes” to our own baptisms and declare that we accept this calling from God. 

               Maybe the bigger question then is, does baptism change anything?

               I saw this Calvin and Hobbes cartoon this week…


               Unlike what Calvin says about change not being a positive, baptism is a declaration of choosing to follow God’s will for our lives and for our families.  That does involve change.  I love what Frederick Buechner says about Baptism.  He describes baptism in this way: “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.” (Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC: New York: Harper and Row, 1973. p5).   I love this.  “the beginning in you of something strange and new and hopeful”.

On a daily basis, baptism should affect how we behave, what we say, what we do, how we interact with people who are mean to us, or those who at any moment act as “enemies”.  To love them, to strive to love even those we fear, we hate, we condemn: that has to involved constant change and growth.  Baptism is a commitment to follow in the ways of Christ, to care for each other, to love one another, and to study, pray, and listen for God’s direction for our lives.  If we take it seriously, it WILL make a change in our lives.  Baptism doesn’t change that God loves us.  It doesn’t change that God has called us.  But we hope that it will change how we respond to God.  We make a commitment through our baptisms, through the baptisms of our children and through the promises we make when anyone in our church is baptized, to live lives of grace, faith, compassion, but mostly of love.

               I see this in your lives, in the lives of those within this congregation.  I see that you are people of love and support and care.  I see that you are people committed to ministry as you minister to each other, to me, and to people beyond this congregation and beyond this community.  On Thanksgiving Sunday when I ask everyone who contributes in any way to stand and pretty much the entire congregation stands up, I see how much each and every one of you gives to this place and to the community beyond.  I see in those who are not necessarily serving in official capacities but who help with our many mission projects, who do the sanctuary flowers, who provide coffee hour, who write cards, who sing in the choir,  who come to Thursday adult ed, who help with the children on Sunday, who usher, serve communion, attend our programs or even those who just come Sunday mornings – I see in all of you a deep commitment to living out your baptism promises.  You are choosing to live out those baptism promises.  You are choosing to live faithful and committed lives.  You are choosing to be people renewed, reborn, re-committed as baptized children of God.

Today is Baptism of the Lord Sunday.  It is a time of remembrance and renewal.  We remember that Jesus, too, had a time of renewal, a cleansing, a rebirth.  For Jesus in the book of Matthew, his baptism began his time of leadership in the church.  It was a changing point for him in which he took on full-force the commitment he made to serve God with all of his being, even to the point of being killed.  That deep commitment, the promise of that accepting of God’s call began with Jesus’ baptism as it may for us, too. 

As an aside, baptism, the embracing of new life, the deeper commitment to living lives of fullness in love and compassion and grace: this is NOT an invitation to beat ourselves up over the past.  I recently re-watched one of my favorite Star Trek the Next Generation episodes (Tapestry), in which Captain Picard was given the “glimpse” of seeing what his life might have been had he made a different choice than one he had deeply regretted making during his life time.  That one choice would have led him down a completely different path, one that ultimately had little value, little meaning.  Regrets are useful only in that they can inform us how to make different choices for the future.  But they are not useful in terms of wishes that we had chosen differently in the past because we would not be the people we are now if our paths had gone a different way.  After seeing the glimpse of what might have been, his comment requesting to return to his old life was profound: “I’d rather die as the man I was then live the life I just saw.” 

Our baptism invites us into change, but not into regret.

Jesus’ baptism was also a time for God to declare ‘this is my beloved child with whom I am well pleased.’  We recognize in our baptism the same declaration from God.  God has called us all God’s children, chosen us before we were even aware of our own existence, God has claimed us as God’s own.  We celebrate that, we remember that as we are baptized, as we baptize our children, as we make the promises of the congregation to support those baptized on their faith journeys.  Today I would also like us to remember that commitment and that promise of God’s love and God’s call that we received through baptism, through a renewal of our baptism vows.  This is a time for us to remember that God calls us before we are aware of our own existence, that God loves us before we are born, that God chooses us before we can even respond.  I am going to invite you in a moment to come forward at this time as you feel led, to be anointed with the oil and to remember that God calls you before you are able even to respond.  

“Remember that God loves you, has chosen you, and calls you into new life.  May you follow Christ in all you do!”

 

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

In the Beginning

Genesis 1:1 - 2:4
John 1:1-5
Mark 1:4-11

            According to the gospel of John, what is “the Word”?  It’s Jesus, actually.  Not scripture.  The Word of God is Jesus.  And we are told that, in the beginning, this third person of the trinity already existed.
            “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God. The Word was with God in the beginning. Everything came into being through the Word, and without the Word nothing came into being. What came into being through the Word was life, and the life was the light for all people…The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him.  He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. … The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.”
            The Word was already in the world, it was there since the beginning.  Jesus, as the Word, was there from the beginning.  And yet Jesus was born and Jesus was baptized as one of us.  What does that mean? 
            As I’ve said before, Epiphany actually has three parts, or three events.  Epiphany is the revelation or revealing of who Jesus was.  The first part of the epiphany is the visit of the Magi, their recognition of who Jesus was, through the star, through their study and wisdom and their declaration of who Jesus was by their commitment to travel, to bring him gifts, to honor him.  The second part is what we read today, the revelation of Jesus by the Spirit descending on him like a dove, with the voice that came from heaven saying: “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”  The final piece of the epiphany is Jesus’ first miracle or his turning the water into wine.  The Magi represented the revelation to the Gentiles of who Jesus was.  The Baptism was God’s own naming of who Jesus was.  And his first miracle was done for his own community, for those attending the wedding, or other Jews. 
            But baptism, the piece of epiphany on which we focus today also has other meanings for us.  And the fact that Jesus was baptized shows the extent to which God, the Word, joined us in this human journey, including this, the baptism or the second revelation of God’s coming to be with us.  It was, for Jesus, as it is for us, a renewing.  It is a commitment to living in the way of Christ, in the way God calls us to be.  Mostly, it is a commitment and an acceptance of our being God’s children.  We accept God’s claiming us as God’s own and we honor and celebrate that claiming.
A seminary professor was vacationing with his wife in Gatlinburg, Tennessee . One morning, they were eating breakfast at a little restaurant, hoping to enjoy a quiet, family meal. While they were waiting for their food, they noticed a distinguished looking, white-haired man moving from table to table, visiting with the guests. The professor leaned over and whispered to his wife, “I hope he doesn't come over here.” But sure enough, the man did come over to their table. “Where are you folks from?” he asked in a friendly voice. “ Oklahoma ,” they answered.  “Great to have you here in Tennessee ,” the stranger said... “What do you do for a living?” “I teach at a seminary,” he replied. “Oh, so you teach preachers how to preach, do you? Well, I've got a really great story for you. ” And with that, the gentleman pulled up a chair and sat down at the table with the couple.  The professor groaned inside and thought, “Great.. Just what we need.... Another preacher story!”  The man started, “See that mountain over there?" he said, pointing out the restaurant window. “Not far from the base of that mountain, there was a boy born to an unwed mother. He had a hard time growing up, because every place he went, he was always asked the same question, 'Hey boy, who's your daddy?' "Whether he was at school, in the grocery store or drug store, people would ask the same question, 'Who's your daddy?' He would hide at recess and lunch time from other students. He would avoid going in to stores because that question hurt him so badly. When he was about 12 years old, a new preacher came to his church. The boy would always go in late and slip out early to avoid hearing the question, 'Who's your daddy?’  But one day, the new preacher said the benediction so fast that he got caught and had to walk out with the crowd. Just about the time he got to the back door, the new preacher, not knowing anything about him, put his hand on his shoulder and asked him, 'Son, who's your daddy?' The whole church got deathly quiet. He could feel every eye in the church was looking at him. Everyone wanted to know the answer to that question and finally, they thought they would get it because surely this kid would not lie to the preacher!  This new preacher, though, sensed the situation around him and using discernment that only the Holy Spirit could give, said the following to that scared little boy. 'Wait a minute! I know who you are! I see the family resemblance now. You are a child of God.' With that he patted the boy on his shoulder and said, 'Boy, you've got a great inheritance. Go and claim it.' The boy smiled for the first time in a long time and walked out the door a changed person. He was never the same again. Whenever anybody asked him, 'Who's your Daddy?' he'd just tell them, 'I'm a Child of God.''' 
The distinguished gentleman got up from the table and said, “Isn't that a great story?” The professor responded that it really was a great story! As the man turned to leave, he said, “You know, if that new preacher hadn't told me that I was one of God's children, I probably never would have amounted to anything!” And he walked away. The seminary professor and his wife were stunned. He called the waitress over and asked her, "Do you know who that man was who just left that was sitting at our table?” The waitress grinned and said, “Of course. Everybody here knows him. That's Ben Hooper. He's governor of Tennessee!”
In doing some background checking, some parts of that story are factual (for example, Ben Hooper, the governor of Tennessee, really was born to an unwed mother) and some parts aren’t (he did know who his father was and eventually he ended up living with his father), but regardless of the historicity of the story, it is a story that I find to be true.  If we can really claim our identity as children of God, if we can be aware of the awesomeness of our baptisms, of God’s claiming us as our own, we should be changed by that awareness, made new and humbled by the greatness of that claim. 
On this, baptism of the Lord Sunday, we remember our baptism in which God comes and claims us as God’s own.  The Spirit revealed Jesus as God’s son for all of us.  And when we are baptized, we are called to celebrate our revealing as well – God’s children, God’s chosen, called, loved into being.  Baptism of the Lord Sunday is the day when we celebrate that God calls us first, claims us first, even before we are able to ask for it, even before we are able to recognize it, even before we are able to respond.    
But what does that mean to be God’s child?  As I worked on this sermon, I was reminded of a Star Trek Next Generation episode called “The Defector” in which a Romulan (an enemy) appeared to be defecting and asking for asylum from the federation (those are the “good guys” for those not familiar with the series).  He said that he had defected in order to prevent war.  He believed his own people were taking an action that would lead to a terrible war and he wanted to prevent that by giving information to the Federation so they might stop the war from beginning in the first place.  When pushed, he kept saying, “I’m not a traitor! I love my people. I’m here to prevent a war!” As the story unraveled, it became clear that this was a man who was deeply grieving.  He did not want to leave his home, he did not want to leave his family.  “What I did had to be done. But to never again see the Firefalls of Gath Gal'thong, and the spires of my home as they rise above the Apnex Sea at dawn. It's a bitter thing to be exiled from your home.”  When it was pointed out that his people would believe him to be a villain, that they would see him as a traitor, and that because of that he would never, ever be allowed to see his children again, let alone return anywhere near home because of his actions, his response was simple, “There comes a time in a man's life…when he looks down at the first smile of his baby girl and realizes he must change the world for her.  For all children.  It is for her that I am here.  Not to destroy the Romulan Empire, but to save it. For months, I tried desperately to persuade the High Command that another war would destroy the Empire. They got tired of my arguments. Finally I was censured, sent off to command some distant sector. This was my only recourse. I will never see my child smile again. She will grow up believing that her father is a traitor. But she will grow up.”  
That kind of love, the kind of love that cares so much for the other that it is willing not only to die but to suffer humiliation, rejection, exile – that is the kind of love God had for us in coming to be with us in another human person.  That is the kind of love God has for us when God claims us as God’s children.  When we accept our baptisms, when we remember Jesus baptism, we are both accepting the love of this kind of God, AND we are promising to try to love with that same self-less depth.

Today, on this second Sunday of Epiphany, we are called to reflect on the amazing gift of baptism that God has given to first Jesus, and then us.  It is a gift of remembering that God calls us into relationship with God.  It is a gift of remembering that God initiates care for us, call to us, purpose and meaning for our lives, before we are even old enough to choose to respond. It is a gift that says, “because I first chose you, because I first brought new life to you, because I begin your life by giving to you every day again and again; now you are called to return that gift to all God’s people which are all people, to all creation, caring back, giving second chances to others, choosing to love and live and care for others in the way that I have cared for you.”  It is a gift, like the star of last week, that shows us the light and invites us to use it to see just how much and how deeply we are loved by God.

Monday, January 16, 2017

Sunday's Sermon - Let it be So For Now

Isaiah 49:1-7
John 1:29-42
Matthew 3:13-17

               Jesus, the Human One, the Christ, the Lord, is asking to be baptized by John who recognizes that he is not worthy to do this.  Have you ever served someone, given something to someone, been asked to be part of introducing someone, or in some other way been invited into the close company of someone whom you feel is your superior?  Have you ever been in the presence of someone around whom you feel or have felt small, inferior or unworthy?
               About 12 years ago, Father Elias Chacour came to my house for lunch.  Father Chacour is the Archbishop of Israel.  He has several books out, which I am happy to lend out, about his life and how he was led finally to begin a school in the heartland of Israel for the purpose of crossing the walls, the boundaries that so strongly divide the middle East based on ethnic, religious, cultural and political differences.  His school, which teaches children from preschool age through college has teachers who are Christian, Jewish, Muslim and Drew.  The students also come from all of these different religious and cultural backgrounds, and his school not only focuses on academic excellence but also challenges people from these different life views to find ways to talk about their differences and to live together in peace and cooperation.  For this reason, Father Chacour has twice been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize and he is a man who, when he opens his mouth, captures the full attention of anyone in the room with him who cannot help but listen and be moved by his faith, his love, his commitment to justice, his ability to forgive the tragedies and injustices that he and his family have endured living in that area, and his unbelievable strength, motivation and ability to bring peace, understanding and love to any situation of conflict and even deep animosity. 
               Twelve years ago he was in the United States raising awareness, support and money for his school and his peace work, and it happened that through various connections Father Chacour came to my house to meet my family, my two kids (at that time), and to have lunch with us.  I found myself feeling, in anticipation of this event, deeply anxious because it was clear to me that I was not worthy to have this man in my house.  When he came, put my one year old son on his lap and blessed him with his tears, his hugs and his prayers, I myself was moved to tears of gratitude and an awareness that it was not just my son who was being blessed but all of us in that room.  Here was truly a holy man, who was sitting with me and my family, allowing us to feed him, and I felt completely out of my depth.  I remember this event and don’t feel that I’m even deserving of his remembering me or my children.  And then I read today’s story, and I have no doubt, NO DOUBT, that John’s comment to Jesus was a statement of that same feeling, "I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?" 
               But Jesus’ response is the same, I think, that God says to us today.  Jesus says, “Let it be so for now: for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” 
               We are called to serve and follow God.  And that takes us into tasks that we may not feel worthy, ever, to perform.  I want to tell you a secret that I hope will not get me into trouble.  As you may imagine, I talk to other pastors.  And one of the common feelings, common comments, is that we all feel at times like “fakes”, especially when it comes to serving communion, marrying people, burying people and baptizing people.  Who are we, who are we, that we are given the privilege to bless these key times in another person’s life?  That we are called to be present with people at these most important transitions and spiritual events in another’s life?  Who are we to serve the Lord’s supper?  Who are we to follow in Jesus’ steps and serve you this meal?  Who are we to proclaim to you on Jesus’ behalf with water that you are loved and chosen by God, and given the chance for new birth through baptism?  Who are we to stand in that place?  And all of us pastors, if we have any sense at all of our own fallibility, our own humanity, our own limits, all of us at one point or another have felt like we are fakes.  That we are simply not deserving to be given these privileges in this way.  It is a gift beyond all others to serve you communion, to baptize your children and sometimes yourselves, to marry you and to be with you when your loved ones have passed, to visit with you in the hospital, to walk your journeys with you. 
               It’s not just being a pastor, though.  With David’s permission, I want to talk to you about his response to becoming a Deacon.  He was having a hard time emotionally holding it together on the day that he was ordained as a deacon.  It was a huge deal to him to be able to serve the church in this way.  And frankly, it should be.  It should be for every one of us called into the service of God, as we all are.  Who are we, that God, GOD loves us so much, so very very much that not only did this God come to be with us as one of us, but God calls us into service, into serving God-self and God’s people with love and compassion and care?
               Jesus is not here anymore to love the least of these. God isn’t here enfleshed at this point in time to bring justice, love kindness and heal and serve one another.  Jesus isn’t here to feed us and to baptize us and to marry us.  So we have to do it.  We are called to do this.  So we have to listen, even as John did, to Jesus’ words, ““Let it be so for now: for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” 
               The call is there for you too.  As Isaiah wrote, “I am the LORD, I have called you in righteousness, I have taken you by the hand and kept you; I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness.”  We may not feel we are up to doing this, but we are called by our baptisms to live in fullness and wholeness and completeness…to do that which God can only do through us until God is here again. 
               This has come up in conversations with several of you at other times, but I want to say more about this here.  When I say we should feel the amazing honor it is to do God’s work, I am not saying that we should believe ourselves to be horrible sinful people who deserve nothing but death.  I don’t believe that.  God made us good and I believe that almost all people are trying to be the best they can be.  I also believe God doesn’t just love us in spite of who we are but because of who we are.  I don’t, however, believe that there is an opposing or black and white choice here between either thinking ourselves to be nothing or thinking of ourselves so highly that there is never a sense of awe at the tasks we’ve been given.  I also don’t believe that having wonder about what we’ve been called to do has to include a sense of shame or guilt.  But I do think humility, or humbleness, is an important part of what we are called to be and do.  Walking humbly with God means remembering that all we are and all we have are gifts from God.  Therefore, we are called to be deeply in awe and grateful that we are created to be God’s children, created to follow a call to love one another, created to serve in the many wondrous ways we are called to do that; with our talents, with our resources, with all of who we are.  

As we renew our baptisms today, on this baptism Sunday, I invite you to take into your heart that memory that God has chosen YOU, and that in choosing you and loving you, God is also calling you to do that which we may feel unworthy to do, but which is awe inspiring regardless….to stand up for justice, to open eyes, to bring God’s love to a world that is sometimes so lacking in compassion.  God loves you, and God calls you therefore to do this for now… ”let it be so for now” until the time when we can do it together with God, face to face.  Amen.

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

Sermon from the 4th: Honoring One's Family

I have gotten behind again in publishing sermons on my blog.  This is a mixed thing; my other posts have more readers, but I also know the posting of these goes to our church website as well as to parishioners who weren't able to come on Sunday.  So here is my sermon from a couple weeks back.  Apologies to those who prefer other posts... been focusing more on poetry and stories lately (other blogs).

Exodus 20: 12
1 John 4: 20,21
Luke 14: 25- 26
Mark 3: 31-34

            Today’s readings in our scriptures appear to conflict with each other. The verse from Exodus is one of the ten commandments and tells us we are to honor our parents. This is followed by the passage from First John which tells us that if we don’t love our brothers and sisters we cannot love God and that in loving God, we love all of those around us as well. So far so good.  Pretty straight forward.  Loving God means loving our family. Honoring our parents is part of that love.
               But then we come to the third passage, from Luke.  This seems to be in direct conflict with our other passages. Let me read it to you again: “Now large crowds were traveling with him; and he turned and said to them, ‘Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.’” We see throughout the gospels that Jesus challenges what appear to be concrete and unquestioned laws of other parts of scripture. Is this another one of those times?
              There are many churches that hang their shingle on this very passage from Luke. When I was working on my dissertation I read a book entitled Twisted Scriptures: Breaking Free from Churches that Abuse (Mary Alice Chrnalogar. Grand Rapids, MI.:  Zondervan Publishing House, 2000.), in which the author Mary Alice Chrnalogar discussed churches, often mainstream, regular denominational churches that take on some cult-like personality traits.  They often use a “discipleship” model in which someone who has been part of the church for a set period of time “disciples” those who are newer to the church. This discipling in these particular congregations subtly puts the new member in a situation where every single decision in their life must be affirmed by their discipler, where every personal event must be confessed to their discipler and where they lose more and more autonomy, freedom, and even sense of self under the guise of being “guided in their spiritual journeys.”  Mary Alice Chrnalogar refers to this passage in Luke as she states, “What member of a controlling group doesn’t know this verse? Stressing this verse in the wrong way can drive psychological wedges between church members and their families. It can even lead members to feel disgust for those who love them.”
               These same churches also use the last scripture, from the book of Mark, that I read to you
today. I would like to read that one again as well. “Then Jesus’ mother and brothers arrived. Standing outside, they sent someone in to call him. A crowd was sitting around him, and they told him, ‘Your mother and brothers are outside looking for you.’
“‘Who are my mother and my brothers?’ he asked.  Then he looked at those seated in a circle around him and said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers!  Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.’”
            The author of Twisted Scriptures continues “By using this verse, our group was powerfully driven to feel isolated from all outsiders who we believed weren’t as committed as we were. Those of us within the group truly felt as though we were brothers and sisters. I emotionally distanced myself from my blood relatives. They didn’t count as much.....Often these groups make their members paranoid by admonishing them not to allow their own families to challenge (anything) the group... teach(es).” Have any of you been involved with churches like this?
          We know that many scriptures of the Bible can be mis-used when taken out of the context of the rest of scripture. What is commonly called “proof-texting” or quoting scripture without its context or without the bigger message of the Bible can be very dangerous. So we must understand these four texts within their contexts and as they relate to each other and other passages in scripture. What is the message for us in these passages, not as separate sentences but as a group?
             The text in Luke about hating your mother, etc. is not a passage talking about how we are to treat our family. Rather it is a passage stressing that your primary commitment must be to God.  We are to follow God and God’s will for our lives, for our hearts, our souls, our material possessions over all other commitments, even that of family members. Our love for God is to be so primary that if we were to compare our love, the love we feel for the people we are closest to would look like nothing, might look like hatred or rejection, in comparison for our commitment and love of God. That is what this passage is stressing. In concrete terms, if you are forced into making a choice between following God’s will for your life or following what your family would have you do, there is no contest: you must follow God. Fortunately, for most of us, we will probably not have to come to a place where we have to choose between God and family. But even if you do, this passage is simply saying you are called to follow God above all others. This passage is NOT telling you to reject family for other people, even if those other people are church members. It is NOT telling you to follow the will of the church over the will of your family. This is strictly about your commitment to God and how strongly it is to prevail in your life.
        In trying to understand how we are to treat our family members, we have to keep looking beyond this passage because this passage isn’t about how we are to treat family members.
The fourth passage I picked for today is helpful here. In this passage Jesus expands on the understanding of family. He says, “Who are my mother and brothers? All who are doing God’s will are my mother and brothers.” It is interesting to note what he does not say here. He does not say, “Whoever is a member of my church is my mother and brothers.” He does NOT say, “Whoever believes in me is my mother and brothers.” He does NOT say, “Whoever believes in GOD is my mother and brothers.” He says, “All who are doing God’s will are my mother and brothers.”
         Another thing to point out: Jesus also does not say in this passage from Mark that his biological mother and brothers are not his mother and brothers. He does not exclude them.  Instead, he opens up his definition of family. Those doing God’s will are family. Those committed to love and caring and service are family.
       What does this mean for us practically? Who is our family? Who are the parents that we
are to honor? How are we to know who is doing God’s will and who is not? Personally, I don’t think I am qualified to judge absolutely if someone is following God’s will or not. And again, we have other scriptures to guide us in our behavior. Jesus says, “You have heard it said , ‘you shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy,” but I say to you, ‘Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you... For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have?  Do not even the tax collectors do the same?  And if you welcome only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others?” (Matthew 5:43-47)
     Who do you struggle to treat as family? A category of people that I personally have struggled in the past to accept lovingly as family is fundamentalist Christians. I know fundamentalists are my brothers and sisters. I know they are even my brothers and sisters in faith. But they truly have the ability to bring out my highest judgement, my deepest anger, and my crabbiest self. So thirteen years ago when an old high school friend called me to say she’d been “born again” and wanted to get together with me, instead of elation at the prospect of meeting with her, I honestly felt sick to my stomach. Our meeting went much as I expected. She proudly informed me that in HER church women were not even allowed to be ushers.  She told me that she would not visit her parents any longer because her father had been married before to someone who was not her mother and therefore he was a divorced man so she would not have anything to do with him. She shared with me that she was currently on a committee fighting to insist that public schools be forbidden to teach science, especially evolution, since it was anti-biblical. I said nothing in response to all of this, feeling somewhat paralyzed by it all: not wanting to “start a conflict” if she didn’t really want to know my opinion, and feeling increasingly that not only were we as different as could be but that in fact we worshiped different gods. But I also found myself unable to block out other things that she was telling me about her faith journey. She was volunteering in a soup kitchen. She was reading the Bible with a group of women. She was taking the time to talk to the homeless on the street and give them both food and her time and attention. After she left those facts stayed with me at a much deeper level than our theological disagreements. She was doing God’s will, she was my Christian sister, she was another child of God, even if I had failed to treat her as such in my silence, in my fear, in my disagreement with her personal theology.
         We are not to be the judge of who is following God’s will and who is not. Instead, we are to extend our understanding of family to include all of God’s people: ALL PEOPLE. Even people of other faiths, even atheists, even fundamentalists. Even...whatever group or individual you personally struggle to accept. Family is not to be limited or defined by blood or marriage
relationships. It is not to be limited or defined even by church boundaries. This can be hard. It can be challenging to look at those around us as brothers and sisters whom we are called to love, serve and care for. And yet we have models of people who have been more than able to love someone who has come into their life though they are not a blood relation, though they are not united by marriage. How many of you have had the experience of inviting someone to become part of your family who is not related to you by blood or marriage?
          The best example I can think of of someone really expanding their family beyond blood and marriage walls is the example of a parent who adopts a child. That parent anticipates that child and loves that child every bit as much as a parent who gives birth to a child.
         As one parent of three: two by birth, one by adoption, told me: “Our adoption journey was a 9-month journey of faith, much like my pregnancies with the boys. Maggie's coming into our family has been just as much of a miracle as the births of the boys, if not more so for me. There were so many days that we worried and stressed and cried about whether we would be able to afford it or whether it was really going to happen or whether or not she was ok or when she was going to come home. But all of our prayers were answered and she is worth all that we went through and much more. She is certainly the baby that was meant to be with us.”
        When we baptize babies, children, and adults into our church, or even when we simply welcome them as members, we promise in a very formal, concrete way to care for and raise these members as family. It is in a sense an adoption by the church of these new members. This is a place for us to practice and take seriously Jesus’ call to expand our understanding of family. Treating each other as family is as simple as saying “hello” and is as deep as inviting someone to stay with you who is down and out, inviting someone to share a holiday with you, asking if they are okay, and sharing your own self - your worries, your hopes, your joys as well.
           The church is a safe place to practice being family. Here we learn to honor all in this room as our mother and father. Here we learn to love and serve each other. Through baptism we practice adoption of one another as children, as brothers and sisters. Here we practice. So that then we may enter the world in that same spirit of love, same openness to seeing God’s family everywhere around us.
           The bottom line is that we honor our family by honoring each other, respecting each other, listening to each other, serving each other.  We honor our family by growing in love towards all God throws our way. That call again that is so very simply, and not so very easy. But worth everything we have.

Tuesday, January 12, 2016

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.