AMEN & AMEN

What Are You Waiting For?

2012-02-12T04:00:00.000-08:00

SERMON # 1356.01
12/11/11 (3095)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “God Hath Spoken by the Prophets” #108
Sermon Hymn: “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” #240
Closing Hymn: “I Want to Walk as a Child of the Light” #206

John 1:6-8, 19-28 (NIV)
6 There was a man sent from God whose name was John. 7 He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all might believe. 8 He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light.
John the Baptist Denies Being the Messiah
19 Now this was John’s testimony when the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem sent priests and Levites to ask him who he was. 20 He did not fail to confess, but confessed freely, “I am not the Messiah.”
21 They asked him, “Then who are you? Are you Elijah?”
He said, “I am not.”
“Are you the Prophet?”
He answered, “No.”
22 Finally they said, “Who are you? Give us an answer to take back to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?”
23 John replied in the words of Isaiah the prophet, “I am the voice of one calling in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way for the Lord.’”
24 Now the Pharisees who had been sent 25 questioned him, “Why then do you baptize if you are not the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the Prophet?”
26 “I baptize with water,” John replied, “but among you stands one you do not know. 27 He is the one who comes after me, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie.”
28 This all happened at Bethany on the other side of the Jordan, where John was baptizing.

I think it is fair to say that most of us go to church because we are looking for a handle on the infinite. Even though we know we can never capture God, it is comforting to go someplace where we have a way of talking to and about God that makes us feel a little less lost in the universe. It is comforting to have songs to sing and rituals to perform, even if they never solve the mystery of God’s love for us in Christ.

This privilege of gathering for worship has always involved some risks, only I am not thinking about the dangers of persecution or bad preaching this time. I am thinking instead about the danger of religion—I mean any of the systems invented and defended by human beings in their efforts to pigeonhole God. Just to make sure I was on solid ground here, I looked up the word religion in my concordance to see how many times it occurs in the Bible. The answer is three times: once in the book of Acts when Paul is talking about his past as a Pharisee, and twice in the letter of James, where James defines religion as caring for orphans and widows in their distress.

That is all the religion there is in the Bible. Jesus never uses the word at all, perhaps because he found organized religion so unfriendly. The first time he preached in his home synagogue, the entire congregation rose up in wrath and tried to throw him off a cliff. The clergy in Jerusalem had the same reaction to him. Every time he showed up in the temple, they stood around in clumps trying to figure out how to get rid of him, and at least once he got so mad about what was happening in God’s house that he turned all the furniture upside down.

Jesus was not big on religion, as far as I can tell. He seemed to see it as something people did instead of worshiping God. When people could no longer stand surrendering themselves to a love that would give them no details, make them no deals, cut them no slack, they invented a religion that would do all those things for them and they worshiped that instead. They spent their prayer time making up rules and definitions. They spent their orphan-and-widow time keeping their records up to date.

It wore Jesus out, because they did not know when to stop. It might have been all right if they had limited the use of their organizational skills to each other, but they did not. They tried to organize God too, so that their religion turned into a blindfold that kept them from seeing the God who came to them—sideways, from way out past the limits of their expectations—as a complete surprise.

He draws crowds in the wilderness, which is how he comes to the attention of the religious establishment in Jerusalem; only they do not know what to make of him. He does not dress, act, or sound like anyone they have ever encountered before. He certainly does not dress, act, or sound like them, so they send a delegation of clergy down to his river camp to find out who he is. They are professional appraisers, well equipped (they think) to find out where John has gotten the authority to act the way he is acting.

“Who are you?” (v. 19) they ask him, and you can almost see them standing there with their IPhones or Blackberries, texting their ideas and questions about John to their Facebook friends. Is he Orthodox or Reform, a fundamentalist, a charismatic, a liberal, a traditionalist, a Pentecostal? Is he high church or low church? Does he believe in predestination, transubstantiation, dispensationalism? Where does he stand on believer’s baptism, the ordination of women, the use of incense, and same-sex unions? They want details, only John will not cooperate.

“I am not the Messiah,” (v. 20) he says, which is a pretty interesting answer since that is not what they asked him. But John is up to something here, which is all but lost on his visitors. “I am not,” John starts out with them, and that is how the whole conversation goes, with denial after denial.

“Then who are you? Are you Elijah?” “I am not.” “Are you the prophet?” “No.” (v. 21)

It is terribly frustrating for them. They have a religious identification box with a round hole, a square hole, and a triangular hole in it, but John will not fit into any of them. He matter‑of‑factly dismisses all their religious categories, but it does not take them long to catch on to his tricks. Whatever they suggest, he is going to say “no,” so they invite him to categorize himself.

“Who are you?” they try again. “Give us an answer to take back to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” (v. 22) But John will not say anything about himself. He is Mr. Not, Not, No, the man with no face, no name, no identity at all except for the sound he makes.

“I am the voice,” he says at last, “of one calling in the wilderness, ‘make straight the way for the Lord.’” (v. 23) It is the only claim he will make for himself. John is a honking horn, a crowing rooster, a jangling alarm clock. He is not the main event. He is the wakeup call for the main event, but as uncooperative as he is being with his visitors, he is telling them something absolutely crucial about the one coming after him. If they think John is hard to peg, just wait until they meet the light. The light will not match any of their descriptions or fit into any of their boxes either. The light will not obey their rules or honor their systems, because if the light did that then he would not be the light. He would be something much smaller and tamer—a pocket-sized flashlight, maybe, something people could turn on and off at will.

By refusing every title the religious authorities try to pin on him, John turns out to be a very good witness to the light. Neither he nor the one coming after him will ever fit into anyone’s pocket like that. John is the unclassifiable witness to the undefinable Lord, who will be as slippery as greased lightning, as elusive as a moonbeam, as hot to handle as the sun. No system will be big or fast enough to contain him, John warns his visitors, so they might as well give up right now.

“Among you stands one you do not know.” (v. 26) John tells those who are supposed to know everything there is to know about God, and it is a wonder they do not have him arrested on the spot. They cannot excommunicate him, however, because he does not belong to any group they can throw him out of. He lives in the wilderness, far from the temple. He operates outside their boundaries. He is “Mr. Not Not No”, who has already emptied himself out to make straight the way of the Lord.

What John does not tell his visitors is that he does not know whom he is waiting for either, but that is the point. If he thinks he knows whom he is looking for, he might miss the one who comes to him sideways, from way out past the limits of his expectations. The point is to know that he does not know, and to do what he can to help everyone else know that they do not know either. It is enough to trust God to open their eyes when the time comes. It is enough to trust the light to be light enough to see.

We are given this passage on the Third Sunday of Advent because we still need John’s testimony to the light. While we are waiting—for a baby’s cry, for a handle on the infinite, for the earth to turn toward the sun again—we can use John’s reminder that none of us ever knows exactly whom we are waiting for either, and that we need not be ashamed of that. It is a good thing, not a bad thing, to surrender ourselves to a love we cannot predict or control, especially during this season when we look forward to holding him in our arms. He will allow us to do that, but only on the condition that we understand we can never possess him, not entirely.

In the end, it is he who puts his arms around us. No religion can contain him. No church can box him in. But oh, can we worship him. We can worship him until the light is all we see.

AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

When Life Comes to Life

2012-02-05T04:00:00.000-08:00

SERMON # 1365.01
02/05/12 (3104)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “Oh For a Thousand Tongues to Sing” #057
Sermon Hymn: “Jesus is All the World to Me” #469
Closing Hymn: “Precious Lord, Take My Hand” #474

Mark 1:29-39
Jesus Heals Many
29 As soon as they left the synagogue, they went with James and John to the home of Simon and Andrew. 30 Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they immediately told Jesus about her. 31 So he went to her, took her hand and helped her up. The fever left her and she began to wait on them.
32 That evening after sunset the people brought to Jesus all the sick and demon-possessed. 33 The whole town gathered at the door, 34 and Jesus healed many who had various diseases. He also drove out many demons, but he would not let the demons speak because they knew who he was.
Jesus Prays in a Solitary Place
35 Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed. 36 Simon and his companions went to look for him, 37 and when they found him, they exclaimed: “Everyone is looking for you!”
38 Jesus replied, “Let us go somewhere else—to the nearby villages—so I can preach there also. That is why I have come.” 39 So he traveled throughout Galilee, preaching in their synagogues and driving out demons.

A pastor was preparing to leave the congregation where he had served faithfully for seven years. Both he and his parishioners were in tears over the parting. Gifts were given, embraces shared, kind and complimentary words offered:

“Pastor, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your service to the Lord here.”

“Pastor, your faithfulness has been an inspiration to us.”

“Pastor, God has truly blessed us with your ministry.”

But of all the gracious and kind comments made, the most moving, the most impressive was this: “Pastor, we knew that no matter how bad things were, no matter how difficult things became, if you were present, somehow it would be all right.” None of us who serve as pastors could ever hear anything more uplifting and affirming than this.

Multiply that sense of reassuring presence a hundredfold and it begins to convey something of the assurance that those who were sick or poor or broken by life must have felt in the presence of the Good Pastor, Jesus Christ. When Jesus was around, these people just knew that things would be all right. Healing would happen.

Life comes to life in the presence of God. Elijah breathing life into a dead boy’s body. Isaiah telling us to wait upon the Lord for renewal of strength. Paul doing whatever it takes to draw out the life‑giving blessings of the gospel in the churchgoers of Corinth. Jesus healing the sick and broken. Again and again, the message is the same: wherever God is, wherever Jesus is, life comes to life. Things will be OK.

Mark writes, “³¹ That evening after sunset the people brought to and all the sick and demon-possessed. ³² The whole town gathered at the door, and Jesus healed many who had various diseases.” (Mark 1:32-34) What a blessing it must have been to be a beneficiary of the new life God brings through Jesus Christ.

The life-giving blessings of Jesus’ touch are not limited to the narrow band of men and women who knew him in the flesh two thousand years ago. We don’t have to celebrate from afar. Look within. We too have joined the ranks of those first men and women who were touched by Jesus and given new life. For us this newness of life may not have come through physical restoration from infirmity, but it surely has come through spiritual restoration from sin.

And this new life places upon each of us an obligation not just to be beneficiaries, but also conduits—individual pipelines, if you will, through which the loving and life-giving spirit of Jesus Christ can flow thru us into the lives of others in need. Paul understood this. That’s why he became, as he put it, all things to all people, so that he could share to others what was shared with him, namely, newness of life in Jesus Christ.

It is our responsibility, therefore, to follow this example. Wasn’t this the duty that Christ was placing upon us over and over again in the Gospels? “²¹ Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.” (Matthew 7:21) And in one of his last parables, that of the sheep and goats, didn’t Jesus promise God’s reward to those who feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, welcome strangers, clothe the naked, care for the sick, and visit the imprisoned? Is that so hard to understand…we must do more than just sit and watch. We’re not to just be spectators but members of the body of Christ.

We can share the good life to others in the name of Jesus. What we must keep in mind, however, and it is crucial for us to do so, is that we can be successful only as long as we ourselves remain connected to the true source of life, God Almighty. After Jesus poured life into those who were sick and broken in Peter’s hometown, Mark tells us he withdrew to a private place where he could be alone with God in prayer. Why did Jesus do that? I believe he did that to ensure that God’s Spirit continued to flow in full force into his soul, from where it could be given to others as the need arose.

One of the great missionaries of the 20th century was Mary Reed. As a young woman she decided to bring life to the women of India in the name of Jesus. For eight years she worked under difficult conditions in Cawnpore, India, until her health began to collapse. She was sent to the Himalayas to recuperate, and while there she discovered a colony of 500 lepers living without help or support. Some time later she returned to India, but within a year her health failed again, and she was sent back to America. Much to her dismay and to the confusion of the doctors, her health continued to fail until one day she realized what was happening. The pain in her finger, the spot on her face—telltale signs that she herself had contracted leprosy. Instead of decrying her plight she returned to India where she could work with a community of lepers and bring to them the life that Christ had brought to her. And so, in Chandag, India, a settlement and a hospital for lepers grew as a result of her efforts. A single woman. A soul filled to the brim with the life of Jesus Christ. A servant of the Lord who brought life to those who were broken in body and spirit by a dread disease.

A teacher of first and second graders in vacation Bible school taught the children that we are Jesus’ hands and feet in the world. Then he asked the children where Jesus lives today. The response was nearly unanimous, “Jesus lives inside us.” One little boy was puzzled, however. Looking at the large picture of Jesus on the wall he said, “I’m small and Jesus is big. If Jesus lives inside me why isn’t he sticking out somewhere?” Good question don’t you think! Truth is, if Jesus lives inside us, if we are filled with his life, he does stick out somewhere, bringing health and well-being to others.

Wherever Jesus is, all things end up all right. Healing happens. Life comes to life in the presence of God. May we be not just the beneficiaries of this blessing. May we be the instruments as well.

AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

As One with Authority

2012-01-29T04:00:00.000-08:00

SERMON # 1364.01
01/29/12 (3103)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “Majesty, Worship His Majesty” #176
Sermon Hymn: “All Creatures of Our God and King” #062
Closing Hymn: “Blest Be the Tie That Binds” #557

Mark 1:21-28
Jesus Drives Out an Impure Spirit
21 They went to Capernaum, and when the Sabbath came, Jesus went into the synagogue and began to teach. 22 The people were amazed at his teaching, because he taught them as one who had authority, not as the teachers of the law. 23 Just then a man in their synagogue who was possessed by an impure spirit cried out, 24 “What do you want with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are—the Holy One of God!”
25 “Be quiet!” said Jesus sternly. “Come out of him!” 26 The impure spirit shook the man violently and came out of him with a shriek.
27 The people were all so amazed that they asked each other, “What is this? A new teaching—and with authority! He even gives orders to impure spirits and they obey him.” 28 News about him spread quickly over the whole region of Galilee.

A member in a congregation I served had been a career noncommissioned army officer. John was a no nonsense kind of guy, whom I had no trouble at all picturing as a drill sergeant ready to chew up and spit out recruits who even thought of looking cross-eyed at him. John was also one of the most voracious readers I’ve ever met.

So I was intrigued when John said he had a book I needed to read: About Face, the autobiography of Col. David Hackworth, the most highly decorated Vietnam War veteran. What further tweaked my interest beyond John’s recommendation was the timing. This was not long before the outbreak of the Gulf War, and Col. Hackworth kept popping up on Crossfire and other such news talk shows, arguing not to become involved in this war. The seeming paradox of his current position with his past exploits persuaded me to take John up on his offer to lend me the book.

It is a massive volume, over 800 pages, though the stories more than make up for the length. Some allege Col. Hackworth provided the inspiration for the character played by Marlon Brando in “Apocalypse Now”. Even more fascinating is Col. Hackworth’s emphasis in the book upon teaching: not only in the role it played in his rise from the enlisted ranks, but also in his seeing teaching as his most important role as a combat leader, training those under his charge to fight and more importantly to survive.

What comes to the forefront of the autobiography is the critical importance of authority in teaching. In Hackworth’s case, authority derived not from established rules and procedures—it was personal authority. Authority gained through the harrowing experience of enduring and winning in combat. Authority that derived from his self-identity as a warrior rather than with the institution that first rewarded and then rejected him.

That emphasis on personal authority sheds light on Mark’s introduction of Jesus as teacher: ²² The people were amazed at his teaching, because he taught them as one who had authority, not as the teachers of the law. (v. 22) The teaching pronounced by Jesus astonished those who heard it. That astonishment traces less to content, and more to the personal aura of authority.

In that day’s normative style of teaching, a scribe or rabbi presented a case based on scripture and traditional interpretations. If the subject was Sabbath, the teacher referred to scripture related to Sabbath and citations of some previous rabbi’s position supporting his view. If you could claim both law and precedent, you were teaching. Jesus, however, proceeds otherwise. He invokes a different “authority” beyond what others have said or taught in times past. Jesus teaches as one whose authority resides in himself, in his own identity. Matthew’s Gospel provides a clear illustration of this contrasting style in Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount.

§ ²¹ “You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘You shall not murder.’—²² But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment.”

§ ²⁷“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery. ²²But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart.’”

§ ⁴³“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ ⁴⁴But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, ⁴⁵that you may be children of your Father in heaven.”

§ “You have heard that it was said,” no longer suffices in the light of Jesus’ authority, even when the “old” is scripture itself. Jesus’ authority is vested in himself: “But I tell you.” The decision to accept or reject Jesus’ teaching is not what you think about the texts and traditions he cited or ignored, but in what you think about Jesus. (Matthew 6:21-43)

And there is a difference. The teachings and authority of Jesus cannot be measured solely by how they conform to expectations related in scripture or to Israel’s developing expectations of the Messiah. Faith depends, in the final analysis, on a decision made about the person of Jesus. Biblical scholars say all of the blessings pronounced by Jesus in the New Testament have Old Testament precedents with only one exception: “Blessed is he who takes no offense at me.” The person of Jesus is the crux of faith’s decision.

In the Gospels, accepting Jesus’ teaching involves an acceptance of Jesus’ authority. That helps explain why Christian discipleship involves a commitment of trust in the person of Jesus beyond mere assent to this doctrine or that theory of biblical inspiration. And to make such a commitment, you have to decide about Christ’s authority.

An authority borne out in Mark’s story, not simply by his words but his actions. The story of the exorcism that follows immediately upon the astonishment at his teaching is not coincidental. Authority relates to power—and the power of Jesus’ words finds its equal in the power of Jesus’ actions. Ironically, the demonstration of Jesus’ authority in exorcism elicits the exact same response as does his teaching: “ ²⁷ The people were all so amazed that they asked each other, “What is this? A new teaching—and with authority!’” (Mark 1:27)

Those crowded into the synagogue at Capernaum recognized Jesus exercised authority in the person of the teacher rather than simply his sources. Did they follow that authority in their lives? Did they all become followers of the Christ? On that, the Gospel remains silent. It is one thing to see and recognize authority. It is quite another to heed and follow it.

And what of us? How do others see Christ’s authority at work in us? Do persons see the authority of our faith merely in the words we pronounce and the creeds we declare and the denominational trappings we carry—or is our authority, like that of Christ, rooted in our identity and experience?

To go back to the example of David Hackworth: would people instinctively follow our example of Christian faith because they know the faith of which we speak is part and parcel of who we are and what we do? Or to put it another way: if their lives depended upon having a faith that was real and vital versus one that was peripheral and optional—would they cling by our side, convinced we are authorities for such faith, or would they seek others? Perhaps that is an unfair question. No one possesses a corner on faith’s market. And yet: doesn’t the faith of some persons seem so natural, so much a part of their whole being, that it would be difficult to conceive of that individual without it?

Such a faith is authoritative: not because it is pushy or easily verbalized, not even because it claims to have all the answers: such a faith is authoritative because it is true to experience. It’s not that Jesus ignored scripture or his Jewish tradition for authority: it’s that, because of the integrity of his faith, Jesus moved those teachings from past wisdom into present vocation: “You have heard that it was said to the people long ago,...But I tell you.” Authority comes from walking the talk, from faith whose witness is not only what scripture confesses, but also what our lives embody.

During my time in the Arkansas Annual Conference, I’ve spent time with other UM pastors at learning events as well as by myself in personal retreat at a place originally called St. Benedict Priory, a member of the Swiss-American Congregation (group of monasteries) of the world-wide Benedictine Confederation. Subiaco was founded by three monks of St. Meinrad Abbey in Indiana (which I’ve also visited): They became “adopted” by the motherhouse of St. Meinrad. In November, 1877, an offer of land for a new Benedictine foundation in Arkansas was made by the Little Rock-Fort Smith Railroad Company. The monks of this new foundation were to minister to the German-Catholic settlers coming to the western Arkansas River Valley. Gradually the little community grew as new members, largely from Switzerland and later from the U.S. came to help in the work. We shared that building and our mealtime with an order of Catholic abbots, who throughout the week showed extraordinary hospitality to us. On Sunday, our group of about 30 accepted the invitation to worship with them at 11 o’clock mass.

From the ages represented, I believe practically all of those priests are now retired from their vocations. They each have a simple room in which to live out their days, a room in which fits all of their possessions. My wife and I have a simple house and with a large shed out back, and all the storage rooms seem full to overflowing (including closets under beds, etc. What stays with me most from that service came in the refrain from our opening song entitled “Two Fishermen:” “Leave all things you have and come, and follow me.” It struck me: as often as I have heard Mark’s story, as well as I know it and have read it, now I stood in the presence of men who bore the authority of that text because they lived it.

When I now think of what it might mean to teach and live as one with authority—my thoughts turn to those priests. They walk the talk. They live the faith. It’s not just Bible verses and church traditions. It’s not just social activism and progressive thinking. Faith recognizes authority derives from life and word, action and trust, woven in a seamless whole by the grace of God that goes embodied and risked.

Christ taught among us with such authority. So may we teach: as those whose faith is inseparable from our conduct, from our values, from all that we do and all that we are.

AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

Revolution!

2012-01-22T04:00:00.000-08:00

SERMON # 1363.01
01/22/12 (3102)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “O Worship the King, All-Glorious Above” #073
Sermon Hymn: “Blest Be the Tie That Binds” #557
Closing Hymn: “Majesty, Worship His Majesty” #176

Mark 1:14-20
Jesus Announces the Good News
14 After John was put in prison, Jesus went into Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God. 15 “The time has come,” he said. “The kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!”
Jesus Calls His First Disciples
16 As Jesus walked beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. 17 “Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will send you out to fish for people.” 18 At once they left their nets and followed him.
19 When he had gone a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John in a boat, preparing their nets. 20 Without delay he called them, and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men and followed him.

Is this any way to begin a revolution? On this day Jesus began His movement into history called the “Kingdom of God”. After his dramatic baptism, Jesus strides forth to recapture enemy territory. At last! God is going to get back what belongs to God. The revolution begins today!

And what is the first thing Jesus does? What is his first dramatic, decisive act of revolutionary reclamation?

He sees a couple of guys mending their nets beside the sea. He says to them, “Follow me!”

And they drop everything they are doing and follow Him. At this point anyone might expect for these two fishermen to ask, “Who are you? Where are you going? What do you want with us?” But NO, they just drop what they’re doing and follow Jesus. They become his disciples. We are not told that these people have any training in discipleship, or that they have any particular natural gifts for following Jesus. Nevertheless, they stumble after him and the kingdom of God gets going.

Is this any way to build a kingdom? What sort of invading army is this—a group of untrained, uneducated, untalented fishermen, and tax collectors stumbling along after Jesus? Before I was allowed to become a Navy Chaplain I had to have a college degree, a seminary degree and a few years of experience. Then I had to go to “Navy Chaplain’s School in Rhode Island!” for three months.

Many parables that Jesus told go something like this, “A rich man was going on a journey. So he called in all of his servants, gave them everything he had, the keys to his Cadillac, his stock portfolio, the key to his home alarm system, and said, ‘I’m out of here. You’re in charge until I get back.’”

Is that any way to run a business?

I expect that there are gods who don’t ask anything of anybody. After all, if you’re a god, why do you need a bunch of amateurs to work with you? You’re a god. Yet Jesus gets the kingdom of God in motion by calling a couple of ordinary folks to be his disciples.

“I’m going to change the whole world, transform the future, radically rearrange the present, and guess who’s going to help me?”

I’m telling your story now. I’m narrating how you became a Christian who goes to church…or who doesn’t! I’m summarizing or reviewing how you got it in your head that you ought to be a disciple…you know…a disciple who follows Jesus, who works for him and learns to lead others.

You and I are here, in spirit because we were called to be here!!!

Americans are big on their decisions, the sum of their choices. They believe that their lives are their own self-creations, their sharp concoctions or creations. But today’s story invites us all to consider our lives as the sum of God’s decisions, a project of the living Christ, something that Jesus makes and molds through his relentless reach toward each of us.

You are here in life, wherever you are because you were put here. People decide to go to the theater. People thumb through the Saturday newspaper. People see some concert being presented that night and say to themselves, “That looks interesting, why don’t we go.” But that’s not how you get to church. You move toward the kingdom of God by being summoned, invited, addressed, and called. This thing is by invitation only. You have to be called.

This is your story. This is why most of you show up to church on Sunday morning.

Every time we baptize, no matter the age of the person being baptized, as we initiate this one into the Christian life, in effect we say to that person, “The life you live is not your own. You are named, claimed, and commandeered. God has plans for you. God has a job for you. And this is good news because the saddest of all sad things, in this world, is an uncalled and unclaimed life. Now, GO live out your calling.”

Yes God called me and others to lead as pastors, but without you there is nothing. All God has…all God wants for the world…God’s great, expanding kingdom…all of that is in the hands of a bunch of amateurs. It’s a strange way to run a railroad, but this is the way God gets what God wants. “Follow me!”

One night, some years ago, a university fraternity invited me to give a talk. They were required to have a certain number of programs each year in order to give fraternities some semblance of respectability. My assigned topic was “Character and College.” I thought, “Lord, you have delivered them into my hands. I can’t believe that they are dumb enough to invite an old Navy guy like me to talk to young guys like them just out of high school to on the subject of ‘character.’”

So I went to their fraternity section and knocked on their door. The door opened and I was greeted by a young boy of about nine or ten, I imagined. What is a kid doing over here at this time of the night? I wondered. Surely we have rules against young children in the dorm this late.

“They’re waiting for you in the common room,” he said. “Follow me, I’ll take you there.” We wound our way back into the common room and the fraternity was gathered, glumly waiting for my presentation. As I began my remarks, I noted that the little boy climbed onto the lap of one of the brothers. Shortly, he fell asleep with his head on the shoulder of this college kid.

Well, I hammered them for the moral failures of their generation for about half an hour. When I finally finished my talk I asked if they had any questions or comments. Dead silence. So, I thanked them for the honor, and made my way out. I heard the college kid say to the little boy, “You go on and get ready for bed. I’ll be in to tuck you in and read you a story.”

When we stood just outside the door, the fraternity boy lit a cigarette, took a drag on it, and thanked me for coming out. “Let me ask you,” I said, “Who was the kid there tonight?”

“Oh, that’s Darrell,” he said. “The fraternity is part of the ‘Big Brother’ program. We met Darrell that way. His mom’s on crack and having a tough time. Sometimes it gets so bad that she can’t care for him. So we told Darrell to call us up when he needs us. We go over, pick him up, and he stays with us until it’s okay to go home. We take him to school, buy him his clothes, books, and stuff.”

“That’s amazing,” I said. “I take back all that I said about you people being bad and irresponsible.”

“I tell you what’s amazing,” he said as he took another drag on his cigarette, “what’s amazing is that God would pick a guy like me to do something this good for somebody else.”

On my way back to my car that night I said to Jesus, “It’s an odd way to do a revolution. Still, by the grace of God, it’s working.”

AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

Called? Me?

2012-01-15T04:00:00.000-08:00

SERMON # 1362.01
01/15/12 (3101)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “Be Thou My Vision” #451
Sermon Hymn: “O Jesus, I Have Promised” #396
Closing Hymn: “Here I Am, Lord” (I, the Lord of Sea and Sky) #593

1 Samuel 3:1-10 (11-20)
The LORD Calls Samuel
1 The boy Samuel ministered before the LORD under Eli. In those days the word of the LORD was rare; there were not many visions.
2 One night Eli, whose eyes were becoming so weak that he could barely see, was lying down in his usual place. 3 The lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the house of the LORD, where the ark of God was. 4 Then the LORD called Samuel.
Samuel answered, “Here I am.” 5 And he ran to Eli and said, “Here I am; you called me.” But Eli said, “I did not call; go back and lie down.” So he went and lay down. 6 Again the LORD called, “Samuel!” And Samuel got up and went to Eli and said, “Here I am; you called me.”
“My son,” Eli said, “I did not call; go back and lie down.” 7 Now Samuel did not yet know the LORD: The word of the LORD had not yet been revealed to him. 8 A third time the LORD called, “Samuel!” And Samuel got up and went to Eli and said, “Here I am; you called me.”
Then Eli realized that the LORD was calling the boy. 9 So Eli told Samuel, “Go and lie down, and if he calls you, say, ‘Speak, LORD, for your servant is listening.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place.
10 The LORD came and stood there, calling as at the other times, “Samuel! Samuel!” Then Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening.”
11 And the LORD said to Samuel: “See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make the ears of everyone who hears about it tingle. 12 At that time I will carry out against Eli everything I spoke against his family—from beginning to end. 13 For I told him that I would judge his family forever because of the sin he knew about; his sons blasphemed God, and he failed to restrain them. 14 Therefore I swore to the house of Eli, ‘The guilt of Eli’s house will never be atoned for by sacrifice or offering.’”
15 Samuel lay down until morning and then opened the doors of the house of the LORD. He was afraid to tell Eli the vision, 16 but Eli called him and said, “Samuel, my son.” Samuel answered, “Here I am.”
17 “What was it he said to you?” Eli asked. “Do not hide it from me. May God deal with you, be it ever so severely, if you hide from me anything he told you.” 18 So Samuel told him everything, hiding nothing from him. Then Eli said, “He is the LORD; let him do what is good in his eyes.”
19 The LORD was with Samuel as he grew up, and he let none of Samuel’s words fall to the ground. 20 And all Israel from Dan to Beersheba recognized that Samuel was attested as a prophet of the LORD.

According to an old saying, you just can’t send a boy to do a man’s work. Or can you? God seemed to do just that. In fact, if you were to review God’s choices of prophets and leaders in the scriptures, you would find that God seemed to make many curious choices. Consider Jacob, Moses, David, Jonah, Jeremiah, Mary, and Paul. And in today’s lesson we learn about Samuel.

It is a dark time in the history of God’s people. We read that “In those days the word of the Lord was rare;” (1 Samuel 3:1) Eli is getting old and feeble. His sons are pathetic failures. They were even blasphemers, ones who take the name of God in vain.

So who rides in to save the day? A young boy around 12 years old named Samuel. What do we know of Samuel prior to God’s call? We know he had a faithful mother named Hannah. Truly, it is Hannah’s faith that places Samuel in the care of the priest Eli. We know his mother faithfully visits him year in and year out. We know that Samuel is growing in stature and favor with God and with the people. But that’s it. That is his entire resume. And this is the one who will deliver a message to the people so stunning that it “will make the ears of everyone who hears about it tingle.” (Samuel 3:11)

How old is Samuel? An ancient historian places him at about 12 years of age. And as we read the story it’s quite evident that Samuel is not used to hearing the voice of God. Otherwise it wouldn’t have taken four tries and a suggestion from an old priest to get the communication started between Samuel and God. On the other hand, maybe the old priest isn’t accustomed to God’s voice, either, if it takes him three tries to set Samuel on the right path.

“Samuel, Samuel,” the call goes out. “Here I am, you called me.” responds Samuel, but to Eli, not to the one who called him. “Samuel,” the call goes out. “Here I am,” responds Samuel a second time to Eli, and a second time incorrectly.

The call goes out for the third time, and Samuel responds, “Here I am.” Samuel is consistent in his willingness to serve. But Samuel is still addressing the wrong party. After the third time, Eli tells the boy, if you are called again answer, this way, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” (Samuel 1:9)

Sure enough, the call from God comes a fourth time, “Samuel, Samuel!” And the line of communication between God and Samuel is opened as Samuel responds, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.”

As it happens, Samuel listens to a hard message, especially hard for his beloved Eli, whose family will be punished for their failure to follow God. In the morning Eli asks about the message from God, but Samuel is reluctant to speak the message for fear it will hurt Eli. Eli persists, and Samuel tells it all—his first exercise at telling the truth of God, no matter how disturbing. Imagine, a 12‑year‑old boy delivering a word of judgment to a long‑standing priest.

And what of today? Is God still choosing people who are young, who can’t speak well, who seem even hostile to Word? Is God calling you?

Recall our Gospel lesson for today in which Jesus is calling disciples. When we take a look at that group, there is nothing spectacular about them. We know that there are fishermen, a tax collector quite ordinary people. You would think that if Jesus wanted to get something done in a hurry, he would have picked some priests and scribes and lawyers. Maybe Jesus would have included a Roman governor or even an emperor into his group of close disciples. But, no, Jesus seems satisfied to call quite ordinary people.

Most of us in this placeare quite ordinary. This doesn’t preclude the possibility that there could be someone who is quite extraordinary among us: a billionaire, a past or future Olympian, a politician who can touch the lives of thousands, the best cardiac surgeon in the world. Surely such people sit among the people of God. Yet most of us claim no great place in history. We do our jobs, we raise our families, we care for our homes, we go to school—whatever it is that takes us through the week.

And God is calling us. God is calling us or you wouldn’t be reading this sermon today! When God calls, we tend to be like Samuel and do not hear God’s voice correctly. Or we may make excuses like Moses and Jeremiah. Or we may be contrary to the call like Jonah. Yet God calls and calls and calls and calls...!

God’s people have been answering for thousands of years; for two thousand years we have been answering in the name of Christ. Who is it that teaches the children in our Sunday school? Quite ordinary people whom the Spirit calls and equips. Some teach Sunday school for 40 years. Others go from teaching to some other calling in the church. One pastor tells of the Spirit calling him to teach Sunday school, then things evolved to the point that he couldn’t say no to seminary, and today he is serving as an ordained pastor in the church.

Who serves on the altar guild? Who serves as trustees, or audio controllers? Who provides leadership for the women’s groups or the church council? Who goes on the mission trips to assist people whose lives have been touched by tornadoes or hurricanes, or trips to other lands to share good news with sisters and brothers a world away?

Aren’t we all rather ordinary? And might we not even dismiss ourselves from consideration because we believe we are nothing special? My pastor when I was only about 15 believed I was called but I refused to listen to the call for 14 more years…when I was 29! Each one of us is special in the eyes of God. We are called in baptism to let our lights shine. One is never too young or old or rich or poor to serve God...in some way…All of us are called for something! Listen, listen: God is calling you to something…or reaffirming a call you have already heard! God is calling!
AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

Contradiction in Terms?

2012-01-08T04:00:00.000-08:00

SERMON # 1052.02
01/08/06; 01/08/12;
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “Spirit of Faith, Come Down” #332
Hymn of Preparation: “Spirit of the Living God, Fall Afresh on Me” #393
Closing Hymn: “Spirit Song” #347

(Mark 1:4-11)
4 And so John came, baptizing in the desert region and preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5 The whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem went out to him. Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River. 6 John wore clothing made of camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. 7 And this was his message: “After me will come one more powerful than I, the thongs of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. 8 I baptize you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
9 At that time, Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. 10 As Jesus was coming up out of the water, he saw heaven being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. 11 And a voice came from heaven: “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”

The Prince of Tides is a disturbing movie. Its opening scene sets the stage for what will follow. The scene contrasts violence with redemption. The voices of two shouting people sound from a ramshackle house. The fight grows in intensity and three children burst from the house. All of the children are young; one even appears to be younger than school age. They run down a pathway and onto a dock leading into a lake. Without a moment’s hesitation, the three join hands and jump into the——clothing and all.

And that is when the voice-over of the film’s major character explains what the children are doing—what he used to do with his brother and sister when he was a child. When their parents would fight, the children ran to escape the noise and the violence. Simply running away didn’t silence the shouting and abuse. But jumping into the water would take away, at least momentarily, the angry voices. And in the calmness under the water, the children would bond with their hands held together. It was as if they were sheltered from the evils of the world. And when they could hold their breath no longer, they would, as the voice says, “rise to the light.”

As Jesus came up out of the water following his baptism by John in the Jordan River, was there some kind of light that accompanied the descending dove and the heavenly voice? Was this some mystical experience that would prefigure the dazzling light that we will consider in a few weeks at the Transfiguration, along with a voice from the cloud that nearly repeats today’s heavenly pronouncement with an additional rejoinder: “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!” (Mark 9:7)

Genesis 1:1-5, says, ¹ In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. ² Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. ³ And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. ⁴God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. ⁵ God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.

Alternatively, Isaiah 42:1-9 passage also speaks of the Lord giving a light to the nations. Jesus does rise to the light. Jesus is the light. Jesus is the light we celebrate in Epiphany.

So what of this baptism by John? Is it not a contradiction in terms? Even John seemed to know that his baptism would be unnecessary for Jesus. In fact, in the account of Jesus baptism in the Gospel of Matthew, John attempts to prevent Jesus from being baptized.

Did Jesus need to be baptized? Probably not. A baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins for the “Light of the World” would be needless. Or perhaps a need was met after all.

Consider “contradiction in terms.” A writer for the Clarksburg Exponent Telegram writes that “the words ‘marital’ and ‘bliss’ together is a contradiction in terms.” She writes, “Some believe the perception of marriage has changed from ‘until death do us part’ to ‘until the divorce papers are finalized.’”

Celebrity weddings may last only days, weeks, or hours. Adulterous images on television and in the movies make a travesty of marriage. There seems no longer to be a commonly accepted idea of a lifetime commitment in marriage. Have we gotten to the point where marital bliss makes about as much sense as Jesus’ baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins? Or have we gotten to a point where Jesus’ baptism gives us hope in the face of our culture’s throwaway concept of marriage?

Any marriage counselor will tell us that marriage requires work—every day. Anyone who assumes that the excitement of a wedding day will automatically translate into exponential growth over the next 50 years is sadly deceived by romantic notions. Only 5 percent of couples in our day reach their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Those couples have all been blessed with good health; and those couples have put good work into their marriage relationships.

As God’s children, we are called to put good work into our relationships with each other and with God. Many, perhaps most, of us in this place have been baptized. Some may yet be seeking baptism. In any case, the day of our baptism did not automatically result in some exponential growth in the faith. Either we, or others on our behalf, made some promises at our Baptism, including promises to hear the Word of God and live among God’s faithful people. It takes work to be Christian—good work—every day. Being Christian is not a goal but a continuous process.

Jesus is our model of that faithful journey in baptism. No, Jesus was not baptized for himself; he was baptized for us. We are not Jesus. We will never be Jesus. We cannot be as faithful as Jesus was faithful. That is the point of a sacrament that forgives sin and offers eternal life. But even if we cannot be Jesus, we are still called to live in such a way that God can announce, “You are my sons and daughters; with you I am well pleased.”

Kristi came to Baptism as a young adult. She had not been raised in a Christian home. She started attending a worship service for seekers. She quickly grew past that and was on fire for the faith. She was baptized, attended worship weekly, and volunteered for nearly everything, including being a chaperone for a seven-day youth trip! She was living as a child of the light.

But Kristi fell victim to the malady considered above. She stopped working on her marriage, and it fell apart. It was a source of deep hurt for everyone in the family. Today, Kristi is rebuilding her life in the church. She is not resting in what has happened but is putting good work every day into her faith and her family. She has asked forgiveness for her part in her marriage’s failure. She is one who needed Jesus to be baptized and show her the way to forgiveness.

Have you ever wished that you could jump into a lake and escape all of life’s troubles? I’m sorry; it doesn’t work that way. That only happens in the movies, and doesn’t last even there. But you can jump into the life‑giving water of Jesus Christ and find a light that eclipses the darkness of this world. There is one, God the Father—Himself, who is calling you by name today. God calls you His son or His daughter. God calls you His children—his beloved. And when you are following him—He IS well pleased!
AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

A New Righteousness

2012-01-01T04:00:00.000-08:00

SERMON # 1360.01
01/01/12 (3099)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “Angels We Have Heard on High” #238
Sermon Hymn: “His Name is Wonderful” #174
Closing Hymn: “There’s Something About That Name” #171

Luke 2:22-40
Jesus Presented in the Temple
22 When the time came for the purification rites required by the Law of Moses, Joseph and Mary took him to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord 23 (as it is written in the Law of the Lord, “Every firstborn male is to be consecrated to the Lord”), 24 and to offer a sacrifice in keeping with what is said in the Law of the Lord: “a pair of doves or two young pigeons.”
25 Now there was a man in Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was on him. 26 It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. 27 Moved by the Spirit, he went into the temple courts. When the parents brought in the child Jesus to do for him what the custom of the Law required, 28 Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying:
29 “Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you may now dismiss your servant in peace. 30 For my eyes have seen your salvation, 31 which you have prepared in the sight of all nations:  32 a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of your people Israel.”
33 The child’s father and mother marveled at what was said about him. 34 Then Simeon blessed them and said to Mary, his mother: “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, 35 so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.”
36 There was also a prophet, Anna, the daughter of Penuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was very old; she had lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, 37 and then was a widow until she was eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped night and day, fasting and praying. 38 Coming up to them at that very moment, she gave thanks to God and spoke about the child to all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem.
39 When Joseph and Mary had done everything required by the Law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee to their own town of Nazareth. 40 And the child grew and became strong; he was filled with wisdom, and the grace of God was on him.

Most of us stop counting the days after Christmas when we get to 12, but not Mary. Like every good Jewish mother, she kept counting because for her the magic number was not 12 but 40. According to God’s law in Leviticus, that was how many days she had to wait before she reentered the life of her community. Until then, she was set apart—not because she was bad but because she had given birth—and there was a prescribed period of recovery before she could touch holy things at home or go back to synagogue on the Sabbath.

It all had to do with blood, which was held in such awe—as the very substance of life, as the seal of the covenant—that it was surrounded by lots of taboos. A mother’s time apart was called her time of “blood purification,” and when it was over there was something very specific she had to do. She had to take a lamb in its first year and a pigeon or a turtledove to a priest, who would offer them to God on her behalf. After that, she would be clean again. If she did not have enough money for a lamb, the law contained a poverty clause. She could substitute another bird for the lamb, and the result would be the same. Her purification would be complete, and she could return to the full life of her community.

It’s the last chapter in the story of Jesus’ birth, and only Luke tells it. In obedience to the law of Moses, Mary and Joseph bundled up their six‑week‑old baby boy and made the day trip from Bethlehem to Jerusalem to present their firstborn son to the Lord and make a sacrifice for Mary’s purification.

We do not know whether they walked or rode to the temple or where they bought the birds, but we do know that they took the poverty clause, because there was no lamb involved—unless you count what Mary carried in her arms. Maybe that was what Simeon saw when the young couple stepped into the temple, pausing just inside the door while their eyes adjusted to the light. He saw the Lamb of God in a little child. According to Luke, going to the temple had not been on Simeon’s list of things to do that day, the way it had been on Mary and Joseph’s. Simeon had been somewhere else when the Spirit tapped him on the shoulder and guided him there.

Maybe it was something that happened to him all the time, or maybe it was rare, but in either case Simeon could not afford to ignore it, because that same Spirit had promised him he would not see death before he got a good look at God’s chosen one. With a promise like that, Simeon could not ignore the slightest pressure in his chest, the least sense that he should be here instead of there. He paid attention to things like that, and had gotten pretty good at following God’s lead.

Luke does not say that Simeon was old, but that is how most of us imagine him: an old man with a long white beard and dark eyes clouded with cataracts, who shuffled up to the young couple, held out his skinny arms and said, “Excuse me, may I hold your baby?” I imagine Mary’s heart started pounding at that point, but if she checked him out, she decided he was okay, because she let him do it.

She untucked Jesus and held him out to the old man. Then Simeon took Jesus in his arms and said the most startling thing. ²⁹ “Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you may now dismiss your servant in peace. ³⁰ For my eyes have seen your salvation, ³¹ which you have prepared in the sight of all nations:  ³² a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of your people Israel.” (Luke 2:29-32)

It was such a beautiful thing to say that the early church turned it into a song. We call it the Nunc Dimittis, the “Now Dismissed” hymn, and you can find it in most church hymnals. The United Methodist version is “Canticle of Simeon” found on page #225. For Mary and Joseph, though, it was not a song. It was a revelation about their son.

You would think they had gotten used to that sort of thing by then. From the very beginning, strangers kept showing up to tell them who their baby was, but Luke says they were still amazed by what Simeon said. Whether or not the old man could see three feet ahead of him, he could read the child in his arms. This one had God written all over him. This one would light up the whole world. When he handed the baby back, Simeon knew his long wait was over. Death would not be long now that the Spirit’s promise had been kept. He was dismissed, in peace.

After blessing Mary and Joseph, Simeon told Mary the rest of the truth. Bright light casts deep shadows. As many would rejoice to learn who Jesus was, so would others grind their teeth against him. He would force people to choose whether they really wanted to get close to God or not. He would expose those who did not, and they would do their best to get rid of him. Simeon saw the sacrificial Lamb, in other words. He saw it still nursing at its mother’s breast, and he warned her of the coming pain.

While Mary was still reeling from that blow, she heard someone else talking about her child—a woman this time, praising God for this precious baby boy. It was Anna the prophet, Luke says, who lived in the temple, praying and fasting around the clock. There is no evidence she was standing nearby when Simeon said what he said, but as a prophet she was like a smoke alarm of God’s presence. Mary held the baby out to Simeon, Simeon saw who the baby was, and way across the room Anna went off like a horn, telling anyone who would listen that God was right there.

It was a day to remember, for them and for us, only none of it would have happened without the law of Moses, the temple, the community of faith. Without those, we simply would not have this story, which is something to think about in an age like ours, when religion has become so private, an individual pursuit. What if Simeon had decided to stay home that day and journal, or Mary and Joseph had decided to postpone the presentation until her sister could make it down from Galilee, or what if Anna had gotten mad because no one ever listened to her prophecies and decided to leave the temple for the first time in 60-some years?

God would have had a much harder time arranging a revelation. Revelation requires people who are looking for God, and better yet, people who are looking for God together on some kind of regular basis. When all of us put our pieces of the puzzle together, we get a much better picture than we can from turning one single piece around and around. That does not mean we will like what other people show us, necessarily. I doubt that Mary liked what Simeon told her at the end, any more than he liked telling her. But it was part of the picture, and God wanted them both to look at it. Over the years, I’ve learned about how to seek God and follow while learning from a variety of denominations...including Jews and Muslims. Don’t get me wrong I am a Christian who happens to be a United Methodist. But I have learned over the years from many other denominations. But my 18 years of service as a Navy chaplain helped me most there. If you are going to lead all Protestants in worship while you provide for others, you have to learn at least a little bit about them. Some you had to provide for: Jews, and when possible Church of Christ, Jehovah Witnesses, and others. Not to mention those who worshiped in faiths other than Christian and Jews. I was once criticized for providing a candle to a Wicca lady. She promised not to use it for curses but just to bless the earth. Why would I do that? So I could also hand out Bibles to others I responded. Religious freedom applies to all.

Part of the continuing life of this story is that it tells us what is happening in our temples, among those of us who come here week after week. Some of us come out of obedience to the law—remember the Sabbath day—and some of us come because we have been led by the Spirit. There are even some of us who never seem to leave the place, but are always puttering around somewhere, cleaning out closets, arranging flowers.

However we get here, God gives us to each other. God shapes us into a community capable of receiving revelation, and then God is present to us—in Scripture, in sacrament, in each other’s faces. We take turns saying what we see. Sometimes, like Anna, we get to announce that God is here. Whoever we are, whatever role we get to play, the point is to keep looking—together—so as not to miss the light when he comes.

Meanwhile, our pastor, priest, or even we ourselves, goes on presenting us back to God so that the cycle is complete. Every time we come before the Lord sincerely, we are purified, coming before His altar with the necessary sacrifice in hand—not two birds, not even a lamb and a bird, but himself—God’s precious baby boy, Jesus Christ—who keeps giving himself away, again and again in love.
AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

Annunciation

2011-12-18T04:00:00.000-08:00

SERMON # 1357.01
12/18/11 (3096)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” #211
Sermon Hymn: “There’s Something About That Name” #171
Closing Hymn: “A Charge to Keep I Have” #413

Luke 1:26-38
The Birth of Jesus Foretold
26 In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, 27 to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. 28 The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”
29 Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. 30 But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. 31 You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you will call him Jesus. 32 He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, 33 and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his Kingdom will never end!”
34 “How can this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin.”
35 The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. 36 Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month. 37 For no word from God will ever fail.”
38 “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfulled.” Then the angel left her.

Throughout the centuries, artists have rendered the annunciation scene in very formal strokes, preserving Mary and the angel Gabriel for posterity (or the future) in wood, paint, and glass. While their styles and colors have varied, Mary is always the picture of femininity, dressed in yards and yards of silk or brocade, her golden hair woven like a crown around her head, her nails perfectly manicured. She looks so composed that it is hard to remember she is just a girl who has had very little experience with men, or angels, or the world for that matter.

She is usually shown either spinning or reading at her prayer desk, absorbed in her work when out of nowhere comes this magnificent angel, as beautiful as he is, dressed like a papal emissary with a tiara on his head or a garland of flowers studded with flames. In most pictures the feathers of his great, spread wings are white, but in at least one medieval painting they are the feathers of a peacock, all sparkling greens and blues. In his hand he holds a lily, an olive branch, or a royal scepter—signs of the purity, peace, and authority he brings from above.

Somewhere in the annunciation scene you can usually find a dove, a sign that what is happening is happening under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, but down below, everything depends on Mary. Gabriel is not standing over her. He is kneeling in front of the girl upon whose answer he, and God, and the whole creation depend.

But Mary did not really get to give an answer, did she? The angel did not ask her if she would like to be the mother of God; he told her that God had been gracious to her, that she would bear a son, and that he would be the king of Israel forever. The angel did not ask her how that sounded to her and whether she would like to try out for the role. The Lord is with you, he told her, and Luke tells us that Mary was much perplexed by his words.

She knew her Bible, after all. She had heard about the Garden of Eden and about how Eve had bungled things by believing what she was told by an equally strange creature. Perhaps Mary did not want to make the same mistake, but in any case she interrogated the angel. “How can this be?” she asked him. She wanted to know exactly whose idea it was, and exactly how it would happen. She wanted to make sense out of what made no sense: that God had decided to surrender to flesh and blood but needed her help, needed her surrender as well in order to carry out the plan.

“How can this be?” Mary asked, and that is all she asked, but there are several other questions I believe I would have asked, such as: Will Joseph stick around? Will my parents still love me? Will my friends stand by me, or will I get dragged into town and stoned for sleeping around? Will the labor be hard? Will there be someone there to help me when my time comes? You say the child will be king of Israel, but what about me? Will I survive his birth? What about me?

If such questions occurred to Mary, she did not ask them. According to Luke, she listened as the angel told her the barest details about how it would all come to pass, and then came her turn to speak. It was going to happen, that much seemed clear, but still she had a choice—whether to say yes to it or no, whether to take hold of the unknown life the angel held out to her or to defend herself against it however she could.

Mary was the only one in the history of the world who had that particular decision to make. The Eastern church knows her as theotokos, “the God bearer,” who consented to carry, to give birth to, to nurse and raise the Son of God. Only one person was ever drafted to do that, but still it is hard to hear her story without hearing more than a little of our own.

There is a lot of talk these days about all the choices we have, and about how it is up to each of us to choose our own lives. But more often than not, they seem to choose us. Our best laid ten-year plans are interrupted by life’s own plans for us: by sudden illness and surprise babies, by aging parents and the economy. Terrible things happen and wonderful things happen, but seldom do we know ahead of time exactly what will happen to us. Like Mary, our choices often boil down to yes or no: yes, I will live this life that is being held out to me or no, I will not; yes, I will explore this unexpected turn of events or no, I will not.

If you decide to say no, you simply drop your eyes and refuse to look up until you know the angel has left the room. Then you smooth your hair and go back to your spinning, or your reading, or whatever it was you were doing, and you pretend that nothing happened. If your life begins to change anyway, you have several options. You can first of all be stoic. You can refuse to accept it; you can put all of your energy into ignoring it and insist in spite of all the evidence that it is not happening to you.

If that does not work, you can become angry, actively defending yourself against the unknown and spending all of your time trying to get your life back the way it used to be. And then, of course, you can become bitter, comparing yourself to everyone else whose life is more agreeable than yours and lamenting your unhappy fate. If you succeed in this, your life may not be an easy one, but you can rest assured that no angels will trouble you ever again.

Or you can decide to say yes. You can decide to be a daredevil, a test pilot, a gambler. You can set your book down and listen to a strange creature’s strange idea. You can decide to take part in a plan you did not choose, doing things you do not know how to do for reasons you do not entirely understand. You can take part in a thrilling and dangerous scheme with no script and no guarantees. You can agree to smuggle God into the world inside your own body.

Deciding to say yes does not mean that you are unafraid, by the way; it just means that you are not willing to let your fear keep you locked in your room. So you say yes to the angel. You say, “Here I am; let it be with me according to your word,” and so saying you become one of Mary’s people, one more theotokos who is willing to bear God into the world.

“We are all meant to be mothers of God,” wrote Meister Eckhart, a medieval mystic and theologian. “What good is it to me,” he said, “if this eternal birth of the divine Son takes place unceasingly but does not take place within myself? And, what good is it to me if Mary is full of grace and if I am not also full of grace? What good is it to me for the Creator to give birth to his Son if I do not also give birth to him in my time and my culture? This, then is the fullness of time: When the Son of God is begotten in us.” (Meditations with Meister Eckhart, Matthew Fox, ed. and trans., Santa Fe, NM: Bear & Company, Inc., 1983, pp. 74, 81).

Greetings, favored ones! The Lord is with you. Do not be afraid. For nothing will be impossible with God.

AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

What Are You Waiting For?

2011-12-11T04:00:00.000-08:00

“Then who are you? Are you Elijah?” “I am not.” “Are you the prophet?” “No.” (v. 21)

In the end, it is he who puts his arms around us. No religion can contain him. No church can box him in. But oh, can we worship him. We can worship him until the light is all we see.

AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

In the Wilderness, a Voice

2011-12-04T04:00:00.000-08:00

SERMON # 1355.01
12/04/11 (3094)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” #211
Sermon Hymn: “There’s Something About That Name” #171
Closing Hymn: “A Charge to Keep I Have” #413

Mark 1:1-8
John the Baptist Prepares the Way
1 This is the Good News about Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God. It began 2 just as the prophet Isaiah had written: “Look, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, and he will prepare your way. 3 He is a voice shouting in the wilderness, ‘Prepare the way for the Lord’s coming! Clear the road for him!’”
4 This messenger was John the Baptist. He was in the wilderness and preached that people should be baptized to show that they had repented of their sins and turned to God to be forgiven. 5 All of Judea, including all the people of Jerusalem, went out to see and hear John. And when they confessed their sins, he baptized them in the Jordan River. 6 His clothes were woven from coarse camel hair, and he wore a leather belt around his waist. For food he ate locusts and wild honey.
7 John announced: “Someone is coming soon who is greater than I am—so much greater that I’m not even worthy to stoop down like a slave and untie the straps of his sandals. 8 I baptize you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit!”

Mark’s Gospel does not begin with angels whispering in Mary’s ear. There are no shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night, no wise men from the East following a star, no big-eyed animals standing around a straw-stuffed manger. I have no doubt that Mark knew about those things but they just weren’t what he wanted to share with us. For him, the good news of Jesus Christ begins in the wilderness of Judea with an old-timer prophet named John. We know him as “John the Baptist” the first real prophet to turn up in Israel in 300 years.

We read that John (“the Baptist”) dressed in camel’s hair with a leather belt, the exact same outfit Elijah wore 800 years before him. His hair and his beard looked as if they had never been cut and he was as skinny as a cactus. Surely this is a statement of some kind. Those of us encountering him for the first time may not be able to interpret it very well, but those standing around him certainly could. The man was a messenger—predicted by Isaiah, dressed like Elijah, sent by God—a prophet in the classic mold.

Maybe that is why people flocked to him; I don’t know. Everything I know about John makes me think I would have gone out of my way not to see him. He sounds too much like those street evangelists who wave their Bibles and tell you that you’re going straight to hell if you don’t repent right now (and of course, they are the only ones who know how you are supposed to do that and whether or not you have succeeded). But there’s one big difference between them and John.

Self-appointed prophets tend to plant themselves right in your way so that you have to cross to the other side of the street to avoid them. They get in your face and dare you to ignore them, whereas John planted himself in the middle of nowhere. He set up shop in the wilderness, and anyone who wanted to hear what he had to say had to go to a lot of trouble to get there, borrowing the neighbor’s donkey or setting off on foot with enough water for the journey, which led down lonely trails thick with bandits.

You have to wonder why someone…anyone… would do a thing like that, especially someone from Jerusalem, which was where the temple was, and the rabbis were, and where all the accumulated wisdom of the religious establishment was. If someone wanted to hear from God, then why not stay in the city, maybe attend a few extra services or make an appointment with one of the chief priests? Anyone who would turn away from all that and set off for the wilderness was looking for something else, something the temple could not or would not supply.

John had it, apparently. He was as scary as someone from another planet, but when he spoke it was as if he were repeating what God was saying to him right at that moment, one sentence at a time. He did not have many details. He did not know the name of the one who was coming, for instance, or what he looked like, but he knew that the old world was about to end and a new world was spinning toward him, carried in the arms of God’s chosen one.

It was a world that would be built out of new materials, not the rearranged stones of the old religion. The Holy Spirit had gotten all but covered up in Jerusalem, with pretend piety, and temple taxes, and priestly hocus‑pocus. The flame was all but snuffed out under the weight of all that foppery, so God moved it out into the wilderness, where the air was sharp and clean, out under the stars where it was fanned by the most socially unacceptable character anyone could imagine. Dressed in animal hair with a piece of tanned hide around his waist, his breath heavy with locusts and wild honey, John proclaimed that someone was coming, someone so spectacular that it was not enough simply to hang around waiting for him to arrive. It was time to get ready, to prepare the way, so that when he came he could walk right to their doors.

That was the good news that started with John. He was the messenger, and the message lit him up like a bonfire in the wilderness. People were drawn to him, apparently not only because of who he was and what he said, but also because of what he offered them—a chance to come clean, to stop pretending they were someone else and start over again, by allowing him to wash them off. The bath was his own idea. There were not any rules about how it was supposed to be done. The rabbis had not okayed it. It was just something John offered those who came to him—even women who were not allowed in the inner precincts of the temple; even well-known sinners who would not have dreamed of trying to get inside. John’s baptism bypassed the temple and all its rites. Setting up shop in the wilderness, he proclaimed his freedom from so-called civilization, with all its rules and requirements. He called people to wake up, to turn around, so that they would not miss the new things that God was doing right before their eyes.

The gospel always begins with a messenger, whether it is an angel whispering in Mary’s ear, or a parent telling a child a story, or a skinny prophet standing knee-deep in a river. What strikes me about this messenger—this John the Baptist—is that he was nowhere near a church, and those who insisted on staying inside the church never heard his message. Only those who were willing to enter the wilderness got to taste his freedom, and many of them were still there when the spectacular someone arrived, far from the civilized center of town.

I reckon every one of us has some idea where our own wilderness lies, as well as a long list of all the good reasons why we should not go there. We are comfortable where we are, after all. We know the ropes and we know we will be fed. Why should we hunt for God anywhere else? And to many of you don’t even hunt for God at all. You just survive…... I cannot imagine, unless it is that voice crying out in the wilderness, the one you cannot quite make out from here. If we only listen for God in church, we will miss half of what he is saying. At the same time if you never go to church you may miss the whole thing. The good news is always beginning somewhere in the world…in church and out…for those with ears to hear and hearts to go wherever the way may lead as they seek a relationship with the Lord…the one true God.
AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

2011-11-27T04:00:00.000-08:00

SERMON # 1354.01
11/27/11 (3093)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “My Lord, What a Morning” #719
Sermon Hymn: “There’s Something About That Name” #171
Closing Hymn: “Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus #196

Mark 13:24-37
24 “At that time, after the anguish of those days, the sun will be darkened, the moon will give no light, 25 the stars will fall from the sky, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. 26 Then everyone will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds with great power and glory. 27 And he will send out his angels to gather his chosen ones from all over the world—from the farthest ends of the earth and heaven.
28 “Now learn a lesson from the fig tree. When its branches bud and its leaves begin to sprout, you know that summer is near. 29 In the same way, when you see all these things taking place, you can know that his return is very near, right at the door. 30 I tell you the truth, this generation will not pass from the scene before all these things take place. 31 Heaven and earth will disappear, but my words will never disappear. 32 “However, no one knows the day or hour when these things will happen, not even the angels in heaven or the Son himself. Only the Father knows. 33 And since you don’t know when that time will come, be on guard! Stay alert!
34 “The coming of the Son of Man can be illustrated by the story of a man going on a long trip. When he left home, he gave each of his slaves instructions about the work they were to do, and he told the gatekeeper to watch for his return. 35 You, too, must keep watch ! For you don’t know when the master of the household will return—in the evening, at midnight, before dawn, or at daybreak. 36 Don’t let him find you sleeping when he arrives without warning. 37 I say to you what I say to everyone: Watch for him!”

While manger scenes pop up all over town and Christmas carols fill the airwaves, we are given a different vision of the coming Lord. According to Mark, we can forget the stable, the star, the shepherds keeping watch over their flock by night. When Mark looks into the sky, what he sees are cosmic fireworks: a darkened sun, a dim moon, stars falling from the sky like sparks from a sparkler—and there, in the center of the smoke, the Son of God coming in clouds with great power and glory.

It is a vision of the end time, the final coming of the Lord when the world as we know it will become compost for the world God has been trying to give us all along. We have refused that world, for the most part. Like the prophets before him, Jesus spent his whole life describing it to us, but it turned out to be much more difficult than anyone had imagined. It involved way too much togetherness, for one thing—not just worshiping with other people but actually living in community with them, making decisions together, pooling resources, holding each other accountable, with no permission to leave certain people out because they were too brusque, too gushy, too left, or too right.

The way Jesus described it, it was a world in which nothing could be taken for granted. God could be anywhere, in anyone. If you went to sleep for even 15 minutes, you might miss the most important moment of your life. You might wake up to find God standing over you with suitcases in both hands, saying, “Where were you when I arrived? The door was standing wide open, no lights on anywhere. I thought I told you to watch out for me.”

“³⁵ You, too, must keep watch!” Jesus says, “For you don’t know when the master of the household will return—in the evening, at midnight, before dawn, or at daybreak. ³⁶ Don’t let him find you sleeping when he arrives without warning. ³⁷ I say to you what I say to everyone: Watch for him!” (Mark 13:35-37)

The original Greek word is gregoreite, the same word Jesus uses in the Garden of Gethsemane when he begs Peter, James, and John to stay awake and pray with him. Gregoreite—be on alert! he says. Stay awake! Stay conscious! As hard as it is, as long as it takes, please don’t go to sleep on me.

Since many love to sleep, this is a hard saying. I read somewhere that “sleep is one of the surest signs of trust in God. When I am trying to run the world all by myself, I have a hard time sleeping.” That used to be very true for me but my wife, Connie and I have noticed that as we have moved into the so-called senior citizen stage sleep has become a question regardless. But many folks have shared that they would wake up at two in the morning and start thinking about all the awful things that were going to happen because they had failed to handle them properly. Their house was going to burn down because they didn’t ever think to check the batteries on the smoke alarms. The government was going to get all my money when they died because they kept putting off an appointment with the estate planner.

The longer the list, the longer people might stay awake. It is only when they surrender it to God that they can sink into blessed unconsciousness. So I tend to think of sleep as a good thing, not a bad thing, but I also know how sleepiness can work on people who are up against problems they do not want to face.

When I was in my third year as college student, I was assigned a sophomore roommate who slept all the time. When I left for class in the morning, he was asleep. When I came home for lunch, he was asleep. He stirred for a short while in the afternoon, but by dark he was back in bed with a pillow over his head. It was several weeks before I learned the secret that had driven him to unconsciousness. His girlfriend was pregnant. Abortion was illegal. His girlfriend had no choice but to drop out of school and have the baby, which is what they both did. Eventually they got married. After she packed up his pajamas at the end of the fall quarter, I never saw or heard from him again.

So there is that kind of sleep, too—not a sign of trust but of terrible fear, so terrible that the mind just shuts down. If you have ever had anesthesia before surgery, then you know how it goes. First, there is a kind of static between the ears, then the eyelids start to stick, then sleep comes and the world goes away. There is no pain. There are no dreams. There is only darkness and oblivion.

There is another kind of sleepiness most of us know about, which is a result of boredom. You have a three-hour flight, or a four-hour drive, or a five-hour wait until someone comes to fix the washing machine. With so much time on your hands, it can lose its meaning. It is hard to say whether it passes slowly or quickly. It does both. It does neither. Even if you find other things to do while you wait, you know you are still waiting—for something you cannot make happen, for something you cannot rush—and the sheer monotony of all that helplessness can put you right to sleep.

I do not know which kind of sleepiness Jesus is warning us against, but he clearly wants us to wake up. Gregoreite! Stay awake! Stay conscious! As hard as it is, as long as it takes, please don’t go to sleep on me.

None of us ever knows when the end will come—for us, for those we love, for the church, for the world—and the weight of all that unknowing can put us right to sleep, because being asleep is a lot easier than being afraid, or being bored, or being helpless. Being asleep is easier than being alive, period; only Jesus will not stand for it.

“Wake up!” he says, when his own end is near. Wake up to whatever life is bringing you—as a person, as a people—wake up to pain, if that is what is there for you to wake up to, because you cannot be healed until you admit you are hurt; wake up to the love you will not let yourself have because you are so afraid you will lose it; wake up to the future you are so furious about because it is not the one you ordered; wake up to the fact that you are not the master here, just the servant in charge; and while you are at it, wake up to the incredible honor of being given such a job—not down in the basement, but at the front door where you will be the first to see the master when he comes.

It has been a long time since he came the first time, and we have been waiting a long time for him to come again. But how long is not really the issue for us, how awake is. Our job is to stay conscious—to resist sleep, to stay alive to everything that life is bringing us—so we do not miss God when God comes.

AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

Remember!

2011-11-20T04:00:00.000-08:00

SERMON # 1353.01 [Last saved 11/29/11 6:18 AM]
11/20/11 (3092)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “Now Thank We All Our God” #102
Sermon Hymn: “We Gather Together to Ask the Lord’s Blessing” #131 Closing Hymn: “For the Beauty of the Earth)” #092

Deuteronomy 8:7-18 NLT
7 For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land of flowing streams and pools of water, with fountains and springs that gush out in the valleys and hills. 8 It is a land of wheat and barley; of grapevines, fig trees, and pomegranates; of olive oil and honey. 9 It is a land where food is plentiful and nothing is lacking. It is a land where iron is as common as stone, and copper is abundant in the hills. 10 When you have eaten your fill, be sure to praise the Lord your God for the good land he has given you.
11 “But that is the time to be careful! Beware that in your plenty you do not forget the Lord your God and disobey his commands, regulations, and decrees that I am giving you today. 12 For when you have become full and prosperous and have built fine homes to live in, 13 and when your flocks and herds have become very large and your silver and gold have multiplied along with everything else, be careful! 14 Do not become proud at that time and forget the Lord your God, who rescued you from slavery in the land of Egypt. 15 Do not forget that he led you through the great and terrifying wilderness with its poisonous snakes and scorpions, where it was so hot and dry. He gave you water from the rock! 16 He fed you with manna in the wilderness, a food unknown to your ancestors. He did this to humble you and test you for your own good. 17 He did all this so you would never say to yourself, ‘I have achieved this wealth with my own strength and energy.’ 18 Remember the Lord your God. He is the one who gives you power to be successful, in order to fulfill the covenant he confirmed to your ancestors with an oath.

Long before any of us were born, our government had decided to set aside a day of Thanksgiving, making it a national holiday. But Thanksgiving is not a holiday for the church year. Yes we observe Thanksgiving. But Thanksgiving for Christians is not a one-day event, but a continual prayer and way of life...Thanksgiving, for us, needs to be everyday.

Thanksgiving begins with a state of mind, an attitude. If someone were to ask you, “What are you thankful for?” your first thoughts would probably center on the physical aspects of your lives. We are thankful for our possessions: our homes, vehicles, family heirlooms, and our toys. Then, realizing how transient these items are, we shift our thankfulness to nontangible things for which we are grateful: our health, security, freedom, faith, prosperity, and our ability to earn a living. Then, at some point we begin to think about the people in our lives: our family, friends, teachers, colleagues, and associates. We remember those who have been there for us in times of need: medical and emergency personnel, soldiers & sailors, pastors, and teachers. We remember those who have served us as mentors and counselors.

And, perhaps finally, we remember God. Ah, yes, God. God, from whom all this goodness comes. God, who created the heavens and the earth. God, who fills the lands and oceans with food in abundance. God, who led the people of the past and continues to lead us today into lands of plenty, “where you may eat bread without scarcity, where you will lack nothing.” (Deuteronomy 8:9)

We remember God who has helped us realize that we do not live by bread alone, but are nourished by a faith in our creator. Nourished by a faith that is, itself, a gift from our creator. Nourished by a faith that reminds us not to worry about our lives; what we should eat or what we should drink; what we should wear or how long we shall live.

We are nourished not by bread alone, but by a faith that teaches us to seek the kingdom of God and God’s righteousness before seeking anything else. We remember a God who has called us by name; who has made us children of God in baptism; who has called us to God’s table to eat and drink of God’s forgiveness. At least that’s what we are supposed to remember and be thankful for.

We remember our God who has given us the commandments by which we can live our lives in harmony with God and in peace with one another. There are times when our weakness and disobedience has prevailed, and we have sinned against those commandments. We remember our God who loved us so deeply and completely that God’s own son, Jesus Christ, was sent to die for us, thereby blotting out our sins and restoring us to a relationship with God. We remember as well (though we’d prefer to forget) not only our sins, but also our sinful nature.

Despite our tendency to forget, we remember our God whose promise of eternal life far exceeds the shortness of days we have on this earth. We remember the promise of a life where we will sup with angels and enjoy a feast that defies our comprehension. As we experience death among us, we remember the uncertainty of this life, and we remember with confidence our favor with God.

We remember that we have not achieved our status, power, and wealth by our own doing, but rather through the love and grace of God. Sometimes we fool ourselves, thinking we have made wise investments of our time and wealth without remembering the Lord our God. But we remember also the rich fool who refused to obey Jesus’ warning that a person’s life does not consist in the abundance of our possessions, but rather in remembering the One who provides all the good things in life.

Our remembrance is a wonderful blessing to us, for it takes our eyes off creation and directs our vision to our creator. Our wealth and power, our prosperity and health, our friends and family, our fresh air and clean water—all are gifts of our creator. Our faith—another gift!

So, now, the question becomes, “What does it mean to be thankful? How do we display our thankfulness?” First of all, it is to remember God who is the author and provider of all our blessings. Remember God in thanks and praise. Remember God, and do so often! Second, it means to be thankful for what we have received as well as what is promised to be.

Finally, that thankfulness leads to action. We take obvious and deliberate steps to care for all that God has given us…the earth and all therein, our families and all that comes with it, our possessions and care. We support legislation that reflects that value. We support political candidates who show concern for our land, air, water and all that comes with it. We use our resources wisely and conservatively. We reuse and recycle. We do not waste. We care for others. We take action to support the poor and the needy. We care for the “least of these” in the name of Christ. We do not pretend to cure the world of all ills, but pledge to care to the extent of our skills, abilities, and resources.

We remember that once we were a people without God. Once we were no more than wanderers. Once we were required to live by a law we could not uphold. But now as God’s people, we live by the words of Jesus to “love one another as I have loved you.” Now we live under a new covenant, sowing abundant seeds of love. Now we are cheerful givers. In the words of Paul, we “will be enriched in every way for [our] great generosity, which will produce thanksgiving to God through us; for the rendering of this ministry not only supplies the needs of the saints but also overflows with many thanksgivings to God.” (2 Corinthians 9:11-12) Now, that’s worth remembering! Don’t you think? Make it so in your lives.

AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

Well Done!

2011-11-13T04:00:00.000-08:00

SERMON # 1351.01
11/13/11 (3091), (#174 RTF Sent)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “Open My Eyes” #454
Sermon Hymn: “Rise Up, O Men of God” #576
Closing Hymn: “A Charge to Keep I Have” #413

Matthew 25:14-30
Parable of the Three Servants
14 “Again, the Kingdom of Heaven can be illustrated by the story of a man going on a long trip. He called together his servants and entrusted his money to them while he was gone. 15 He gave five bags of silver to one, two bags of silver to another, and one bag of silver to the last—dividing it in proportion to their abilities. He then left on his trip.
16 “The servant who received the five bags of silver began to invest the money and earned five more. 17 The servant with two bags of silver also went to work and earned two more. 18 But the servant who received the one bag of silver dug a hole in the ground and hid the master’s money.”
19 “After a long time their master returned from his trip and called them to give an account of how they had used his money. 20 The servant to whom he had entrusted the five bags of silver came forward with five more and said, ‘Master, you gave me five bags of silver to invest, and I have earned five more.’”
21 “The master was full of praise. ‘Well done, my good and faithful servant. You have been faithful in handling this small amount, so now I will give you many more responsibilities. Let’s celebrate together!’”
22 “The servant who had received the two bags of silver came forward and said, ‘Master, you gave me two bags of silver to invest, and I have earned two more.’”
23 “The master said, ‘Well done, my good and faithful servant. You have been faithful in handling this small amount, so now I will give you many more responsibilities. Let’s celebrate together!’”
24 “Then the servant with the one bag of silver came and said, ‘Master, I knew you were a harsh man, harvesting crops you didn’t plant and gathering crops you didn’t cultivate. 25 I was afraid I would lose your money, so I hid it in the earth. Look, here is your money back.’”
26 “But the master replied, ‘You wicked and lazy servant! If you knew I harvested crops I didn’t plant and gathered crops I didn’t cultivate, 27 why didn’t you deposit my money in the bank ? At least I could have gotten some interest on it.’
28 “Then he ordered, ‘Take the money from this servant, and give it to the one with the ten bags of silver . 29 To those who use well what they are given, even more will be given, and they will have an abundance. But from those who do nothing, even what little they have will be taken away. 30 Now throw this useless servant into outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’”

In one sense, this parable is easy for contemporary readers to understand. It is about investments and high yields. Those who play the stock market will immediately recognize the value of risk and high reward. Also readily understandable is the slave who is fearful of the market. There are many stories from Wall Street that prove how prudent the fearful or cautious approach can be.

On another level, the parable seems confusing. Though we know it not to be so, the parable appears to suggest that the kingdom of heaven is about success and reward. Who doesn’t want to receive a “Well done, good and faithful servant” after hard work and success? But to focus on the work and reward of the two faithful servants and the condemnation of the timid servant is to miss the central thrust. The parable is not so much about rewards and condemnation as it is about the faithful use of the talents given to the servants.

The word talent is a biblical word and refers to a huge sum of money. It is interesting to note that from the time of the publishing of the King James Version of the Bible, the word talent came into English usage and came to mean the skills or abilities with which persons are gifted. This is not an inappropriate understanding of talent in this parable, for clearly it does not refer only to monetary investment. It has to do with a disciple’s stewardship of all that God has given. Jesus often uses hyperbole to sharpen the point of his parables. He does so here. The amounts of money are so vast as to be incomprehensible. But, the exaggeration holds only insofar as it relates to a monetary sum. If one were to calculate the value of the whole of what God gives us, it too would be so large as to make it impossible to even understand. In commenting on the fourth petition of the Lord’s Prayer (“Give us this day our daily bread”), in his Small Catechism Luther defines God’s gifts as “everything our bodies need such as food, clothing, home, money, property, a devoted family, upright and faithful rulers, good government, good weather, peace, health, honor, good friends, faithful neighbors, and the like.” The value of these things is incalculable. Add to them our various talents, that is, our skills, capacities, abilities, passions, and spiritual gifts, and you have a level of graciousness that is beyond understanding. God is truly good to us.

What should be done with these treasures? As the parable suggests, they should be invested responsibly. They should not be hoarded or hidden away. They are not really ours to protect. God is the giver and the master of all gifts and treasures. God is always in charge of the results of the investments we make of our talents. It is no surprise that the slaves who invested their talents received great return on their risk. Will not the God who gives us talents for ministry also bless them when they are put to good use? Will not the God who formed us in the womb and created our innermost parts (see Ps 139) bring forth fruit when our gifts are planted as seeds for mission?

Of course, we do not always use our gifts as God would want. It is natural to be cautious with our treasure. In the parable, the slave who did not invest avoided the risk out of fear. That might be our motivation as well. Suppose we use up what we have been given. Suppose we invest poorly and our treasures are taken from us. Yes, those are always possibilities. But what God has given us—God expects to bless the kingdom of heaven with our talents. They belong, ultimately, not to us but to the master, to the body of Christ for the edification of the church. If our talents are intended for this purpose then it should be no surprise that the master is angered when our talents are not put to use for that purpose.

Of the many invaluable gifts available to God’s people, one is more precious than the others. It is the gift of faith. But this too must be shared. The kingdom of heaven does not exist merely to bring us into eternal bliss. It is here; it exists now. And people of faith are its current inhabitants and citizens. The gift of faith is the chief talent to be invested for the kingdom to flourish. We invest it in our families, among our friends, in our workplaces, and so on. Or, perhaps we do not, but then the gift isn’t doing much good, is it? If faith is not active, then the words of the parable ring terribly true: “From those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.” (v. 29) Can it really be that an inactive faith will become a revoked gift? That is always up to the giver. But the parable casts a warning that needs to be heeded.

The parable is about warning and grace. When the talent is invested in the kingdom, the increase is rich. The faithful servants are welcomed into the joy of the master. They are not passive observers of the master’s happiness but have an equal share in it. They are joyful themselves when they see the benefit that comes from serving well. And they are praised. No truly humble servant will perform out of the need for commendation. He or she will serve for the sake of doing what God expects. The praise is not motivation, but it is part of the joy. “Well done, good and faithful servant.” Let us serve out of love, let us invest our talents well, but let us not shrink if, in the end, this praise is lauded upon us. It is merely a sign that God’s design for us has been fulfilled.

AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

Grace as Images of Comfort

2011-11-06T04:00:00.000-08:00

SERMON # 1350.01
11/06/11 (3090)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “O God Our Help in Ages Past” #117
Sermon Hymn: “Shall We Gather at the River?” #723
Closing Hymn: “Be Still My Soul” #534

1 Thessalonians 4:13-18
Believers Who Have Died
13 Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. 14 For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. 15 According to the Lord’s word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. 16 For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. 17 After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. 18 Therefore encourage one another with these words.

Every culture has ways of helping us to grieve at the death of a loved one. In some communities we act out our grief at least at the funeral. Jewish people “sit shivah” and remember with tender love the good things and the good times shared with the family member or friend. The meals Christians frequently share after funerals do the same thing bringing together more family members, in a larger group than usual to grieve as well as to catch up on family you haven’t seen in some time.

And for people of every faith and no faith there is the pressing question: what happens to those who die? Do they only go back to the earth, ashes to ashes and dust to dust?

Children ask us where Grandmother or Grandfather has gone after one of them has died, and we grope for responses. One mother I know told her four-year-old son he could see his grandmother if he looked for a specific star in the night sky. We want to believe there is life after life, and we want some way of assuring each other this is true. But how do we speak about that?

We actually begin to talk about life after life in the baptismal ritual, although many, and probably most, times we do not hear talk of death on that occasion. Yet we should, for talk of death—and resurrection—is one important part of baptism. The words Paul wrote to the Romans in chapter 6 are part of many baptismal rituals: “⁵ Since we have been united with him in his death, we will also be raised to life as he was.” (Romans 6:5) These same words are also a part of the beginning of some funeral services, completing the circle, closing it. In baptism we begin to trust God’s power to claim us and love us forever, and at the time of the funeral we reaffirm it to strengthen our trust.

We ask more than doctrine, however, to reassure us as we mourn and grieve. We grope images: a star in the sky; gathering at the river where bright angel feet have trod, the river that flows by the throne of God; rowing ashore with Michael on the other side of the Jordan; crossing over the deep River Jordan into camp ground. All those familiar hymns and many more console us at gut level. Our minds rarely reflect on the meaning of the words. In the depth of our being we know their meaning at a consoling and comforting level the mind can never offer us.

The most frequently used Gospel for Christian funerals has to be John 14 where Jesus assures the disciples he is leaving that he is going to prepare a dwelling place for them and will come again and receive them to himself. In the 19th century one of the most cherished contemporary parables was “The Mansion” by Henry Van Dyke. It described how God actually had dwelling places constructed for people from the materials—the deeds of love, justice, and mercy they did—which they sent ahead to heaven.

We need powerful images of grace and comfort as well as certain and sure doctrine to assure us in our grief that God is Lord of the future and eternity as well as the present space and time. Therefore, we may be able to enjoy and understand Paul’s image of reassurance that he sends to the Thessalonians.

Over their heads, he tells them, they will hear music and sees angels in the air. They will know the end time has come. First, those who died in Christ will be gathered over their heads. Then the living will be lifted up and will stand by grace on the clouds of heaven’s table-land. On a higher plane that they have found in this life, Jesus will raise them together, those once dead and those still alive, to the holy presence of the eternal God. Forever after that they will be with the Lord. “Therefore,” writes Paul in verse 18, “encourage one another with these words.”

Is the image too literal for you? Or do you see how it flows together with all the familiar images of our best-loved hymns about death? No, this is not a prediction. In fact, we do not know how we will be gathered together at the eternal throne of grace where God reigns. All we can do is use our imaginations to picture the faith we hold fast in our hearts.

And, my, don’t those wonderful pictures comfort and reassure us! In his poem, “The Eternal Goodness,” John Greenleaf Whittier wrote:

“I know not where [God’s] islands

lift their fronded palms in air.

I only know I cannot drift

beyond [God’s] love and care.”

That is true for us as well as for Whittier. Yet, I am sure God smiles lovingly as we ponder Paul’s grace-full image of the second coming and as we continue to create our own in each century and generation. May the God who is our refuge and strength and help in every trouble bless and comfort you with the images that confirm your faith and trust that Jesus Christ is Lord today, tomorrow, and forever.

AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

True Greatness

2011-10-30T04:00:00.000-07:00

SERMON # 1349.01
10/30/11 (3089)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “I Want a Principle Within” #410
Sermon Hymn: “Ask Ye What Great Thing I Know” #163
Closing Hymn: “O Master, Let Me Walk with Thee” #430

Matthew 23:1-12 GNT
Jesus Criticizes the Religious Leaders
1 Then Jesus spoke to the crowds and to his disciples. 2 “The teachers of the Law and the Pharisees are the authorized interpreters of Moses’ Law. 3 So you must obey and follow everything they tell you to do; do not, however, imitate their actions, because they don’t practice what they preach. 4 They tie on to people’s backs loads that are heavy and hard to carry, yet they aren’t willing even to lift a finger to help them carry those loads.
5 They do everything so that people will see them. Look at the straps with scripture verses on them which they wear on their foreheads and arms, and notice how large they are! Notice also how long are the tassels on their cloaks! 6 They love the best places at feasts and the reserved seats in the synagogues; 7 they love to be greeted with respect in the market places and to be called ‘Teacher’.
8 You must not be called ‘Rabbi’, because you are all members of one family and have only one Teacher. 9 And you must not call anyone here on earth ‘Father’, because you have only the one Father in heaven. 10 Nor should you be called ‘Leader’, because your one and only leader is the Messiah. 11 The greatest one among you must be your servant. 12 Whoever makes himself great will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be made great.

The wealthy Quaker, William Penn, was ahead of his time in many ways. He intended Philadelphia, the city he founded, to be a place of tolerance not only for all Christians but also for Jews, a radical idea in the 17th century. Furthermore, in accordance with the Quaker idea that no human being should receive more honor than another, Philadelphia’s streets are named Chestnut, Walnut, Spruce, and so on, rather than bearing the names of distinguished men and women.

In today’s Gospel reading Jesus condemns the scribes and Pharisees for taking great pleasure in the trappings of status. “They make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long. They love to have the place of honor at banquets and the best seats in the synagogues, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have people call them rabbi.” (Matthew 23:5-7) This is a temptation especially common to religious leaders. We might paraphrase Jesus’ words thus, “Look at those pastors! They are wearing vestments imported from Europe and enjoy sitting at the head table at banquets and are overjoyed when their seminary gives them an honorary degree.”

But Jesus says that such signs of status are to be avoided. “You are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all students. And call no one your father on earth, for you have one Father - the one in heaven. Nor are you to be called instructors, for you have one instructor, the Messiah.” (vv. 8-10)

All pastors would do well to feel a little uneasy now and then about Jesus’ words in Matthew 23. Whether they call us Reverend or Father or Pastor or some other title, congregations have a tendency to put clergy on a pedestal, and we have a tendency to enjoy it. In the sermon he preached at his installation as presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church, Frank Griswold said that the more you put on externally, that is, the more trappings of priestly or Episcopal offices, the more you are called to take off internally through a greater intimacy with Christ.

Imagine a world that abolished all distinctions of class and even accomplishment. The French revolutionaries tried it. They abolished madam and monsieur and ordered that all individuals should be addressed as “citizen.” The Soviet revolutionaries tried the same thing; “Comrade,” was to be the universal form of address. The philanthropy industry would grind to a halt quickly if we had to stop handing out honorary titles!

However, these are not temptations of clergy only. Jesus’ words to the scribes and Pharisees echo his words earlier in Matthew. When the “mother of the sons of Zebedee” asked Jesus if her sons could occupy places of honor in the kingdom, he replied, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. It will not be so among you; but whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave; just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:25-28)

Jesus’ point, of course, was not that it is wrong to give honor where honor is due, but that our priorities are wrong. We lift up and celebrate the wrong things. We honor the wealthy and powerful rather than those who have distinguished themselves by lives of service.

A few years ago Harvard University gave two honorary doctorates in the same year. The first was Walter Annenberg, the founder of TV Guide, a billionaire and friend of Presidents Ford and Reagan. For his generosity he was not only given honorary degrees but also named ambassador to Great Britain. The same year Harvard also honored Oseola McCarty. You may have heard of Annenberg, but it is extremely unlikely you’ve ever heard of Ms. McCarty. Oseola McCarty was a sixth grade dropout who spent 75 years as a washerwoman in rural Mississippi. During her career she saved $150,000 that she gave to the University of Southern Mississippi, saying, “I wanted to do some good for somebody else’s child.”

Did Walter Annenberg deserve the honors he received for his generous philanthropy? Of course he did. But when you hear Jesus say, “The greatest among you will be your servant. All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted,” do you think first of Annenberg or McCarty?

We do not have to take in laundry for 75 years and then give away our life’s savings to exemplify Jesus’ words. Nor is it wrong to receive or give honor where it is due. But Jesus does suggest that we need to examine our priorities. Do we live lives of self‑aggrandizement or service? Do we measure our lives by how much we get or how much we give?

Jesus’ words in Matthew 23 hold up a standard against which all of us fall short. Yet it is a standard perfectly embodied in Jesus’ own life. Jesus shows us that the way of service and humility is also the way of true greatness. Jesus is not arguing against leadership per se. On the contrary, today’s reading from Joshua gives us an example of the necessity of leadership. Jesus himself showed how to exercise leadership, but he led from a position of humility and service.

Jesus’ call to his disciples in all ages is “Follow me.” There is no place we can go where he has not already gone. The most prized title is not Doctor or Reverend or Lord or Master, but Servant. The place of honor is not the throne but the cross. And the only distinction we should seek is to be recognized as faithful disciples of the King who reigns from the cross and the Lord who kneels to wash the feet of his friends.

AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

The Great Debate

2011-10-23T04:00:00.000-07:00

SERMON # 1348.01
10/23/11 (3088)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee” #089
Sermon Hymn: “Lord, I Want to Be a Christian” #402
Closing Hymn: “It Only Takes a Spark (Pass It On)” #572

Matthew 22:34-46
The Greatest Commandment
34 Hearing that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, the Pharisees got together. 35 One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: 36 “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”
37 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ 40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”
Whose Son Is the Messiah?
41 While the Pharisees were gathered together, Jesus asked them, 42 “What do you think about the Messiah? Whose son is he?” “The son of David,” they replied.
43 He said to them, “How is it then that David, speaking by the Spirit, calls him ‘Lord’? For he says, 44 “‘The Lord said to my Lord: “Sit at my right hand  until I put your enemies under your feet.”’
45 If then David calls him ‘Lord,’ how can he be his son?” 46 No one could say a word in reply, and from that day on no one dared to ask him any more questions.

In the presidential debates of 2004, there were four basic topics of discussion, argument, and, some would say, exaggeration: Iraq, the economy, health care, and the question of credibility for both candidates. There were three presidential debates and each one left the audience uncertain as to which candidate was the winner. The way things are going today it doesn’t seem as if much has changed. I believe in debate and the health of various sides be examined prior to a decision. But when the health and welfare of our great nation is concerned I’m not sure that anyone is really trying to do what is right for their country… rather they are trying to WIN…for their side and for those who support them the most. At least a statesman like Ted Kennedy always tried to get behind closed doors and get folks to make a decision for the good of the Nation. I think both sides back then would agree with that…Today, I’m not so sure.

Our passage from Matthew today reminds me of those debates. The question, “Which is the greatest commandment?” was the third in a series of four hot topics of discussion between the Pharisees, the Sadducees, and Jesus. Hot topic number one: taxation. “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?” (Matthew 22:17) Hot topic number two: resurrection (v. 28), and today’s topic presented by a lawyer: “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” (v. 36)

Most of us know about Moses and the Ten Commandments. By the time Jesus lived, there were not only ten laws but also some 616 laws, which faithful Jews were expected to know and follow.

In Matthew’s setting of this question, Jesus has returned to Jerusalem for the last time. Palm Sunday is past, Golgotha awaits. The Pharisees and Sadducees are plotting together on how to get him there; how to trap him into saying something or doing something that would place him in violation of Hebrew law and get him arrested. Again, I am reminded of those debates. While I watched the debates with my mind made up in terms of who I would vote for, I felt an occasional sense of compassion for whichever candidate seemed, in the moment, to be risking his political future, not on a matter of fundamental importance to our country but on a misspoken word, a forgotten fact, a confused reference, or a wrong look on his face. Both men were under incredible pressure to think right, speak right, and look right. I imagine Jesus experienced similar pressures.

“Love God above everything else,” Jesus told them. “Love your neighbor as yourself.” We read these verses so often that, in their familiarity, they lose power. But these answers Jesus gave were not wimpy little sound bites about “God is love.” These were life-and-death times for Jesus. Each question, each sparring with the religious political machine, was a type of trap. The questions put to Jesus were intended to disarm and do harm.

Now, at least from my perspective, the question put to Jesus was not difficult. What is the greatest commandment? The answer was as ancient as Moses. Every faithful Jew knew it by heart. They wore it on their arms and foreheads. It rested by their front doors. Jesus responded to the lawyer with Deuteronomy 6:5: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.” Jesus continued with Leviticus 19:18b: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus’ next words, I suspect, are where Jesus stepped out on a limb. “On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” (Matthew 22:40)

It’s interesting to consider the order of Jesus’ reply, while Jesus spoke the commandment about loving God first and the commandment about loving neighbor and self. Second, he didn’t make one more important than the other. What Jesus said was, “And a second is like it.” In other words, loving God is loving your neighbor as yourself, and loving your neighbor as yourself is loving God.

We have no idea how the lawyer and the others listening reacted to Jesus’ words, because Matthew doesn’t report it, and immediately Jesus moves on to the fourth controversy—a question he initiates about the ancestry of the Messiah.

In previous presidential debates, accusations were made by various candidates regarding their opponents—and there never seemed to be enough response time for the candidates to get to the heart of the matter. In a sense it is the same with Jesus’ response on love. Words are never enough. To love God, neighbor, and oneself is too often just a sound bite. Without knowing about the good Samaritan, or the father welcoming his prodigal son, or Mary Magdalene’s loyalty even in the face of crucifixion, or Jesus’ steadfastness even unto death, there is no flesh-and-blood understanding of the radical nature of what Jesus was saying that day. Loving one’s neighbor in the Jewish tradition of Jesus’ day meant loving people like oneself, loving other Jews. But Jesus broke open the understanding of neighbor. Anyone, Jesus taught, anyone who is in need, anyone who is alive, is our neighbor. That’s what it means to love God.

This is where it gets messy. Yes, we have to love people we don’t like. We have to love people who don’t like us. We have to put ourselves in places where we aren’t comfortable. And most of us, if we’re honest, really don’t want to do these things.

Larry was 85 years old and a member of one of the first churches I served. He was a curmudgeon—a grouchy, complainer—as they say. He challenged everything I tried to do and consistently made things difficult for me. One day a rumor began circulating that he was going to leave the church. The Chairman of the Pastor Parish Relations Committee asked me to talk with him. I did not want to. I told her of all the ways that he had been mean to me and had made my life miserable. She listened and when I was done speaking she spoke, “You know, you don’t have to like him, but you do have to love him.”

I hate it when church folks get you at your own game! I thought about it, called Larry, and while I never really liked him, I tried to be loving to him. He stayed at the church and I have always been grateful to that person who pushed me to be faithful to the story behind the words of love.

I think I’ve finally learned, “When you love you should not say, ‘God is in my heart’ but rather, ‘I am in the heart of God.’” To love God above everything else and to love my neighbor as I love myself is to exist within the heart of God. I think this is precisely what Jesus wanted for us—not to win a debate on religious practices—not to become the leader of a religious movement, but to touch people with the love of God.

That, my friends, is why we’re here.

AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

God vs. Caesar—How Do We Decide?

2011-10-16T04:00:00.000-07:00

SERMON # 1347.01
10/16/11 (3087)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “O Young and Fearless Prophet” #444
Sermon Hymn: “His Name Is Wonderful” #174
Closing Hymn: “Take My Life and Let It Be” #399

Matthew 22:15-22
Taxes for Caesar
15 Then the Pharisees met together to plot how to trap Jesus into saying something for which he could be arrested. 16 They sent some of their disciples, along with the supporters of Herod, to meet with him. “Teacher,” they said, “we know how honest you are. You teach the way of God truthfully. You are impartial and don’t play favorites. 17 Now tell us what you think about this: Is it right to pay taxes to Caesar or not?”
18 But Jesus knew their evil motives. “You hypocrites!” he said. “Why are you trying to trap me? 19 Here, show me the coin used for the tax.” When they handed him a Roman coin, 20 he asked, “Whose picture and title are stamped on it?” 21 “Caesar’s,” they replied. “Well, then,” he said, “give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and give to God what belongs to God.” 22 His reply amazed them, and they went away.

For some of us, the world is an either-or kind of place. Either you’re with me or you’re against me. During the Vietnam era the phrase, “America, love it or leave it” was a popular either-or response to antiwar activists.

For some, faith is an either-or experience. God is either for us or against us. If God exists, there would not be suffering, disease, terrorism. But, these things exist, therefore God must not exist. In seminary I discovered that doubt is not the opposite of faith but an element of faith. That helped me break free of some of my either-or thinking.

For some, life is a gray experience, sometimes good, sometimes not so good. Some have that grayness about faith or God. We think, “God loves me, but maybe God doesn’t get involved in every little thing that happens in my life, or in the world. God is all-powerful, but maybe God lets people figure things out for themselves, even when they mess things up.” In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus is confronted by either-or thinking, but, it’s the gray area in which he leaves his challengers standing. “Teacher...¹⁷ Now tell us what you think about this: Is it right to pay taxes to Caesar or not?” (Matthew 22:17)

We don’t have to be biblical scholars to know a trick question. Those testing Jesus were from two groups, a lot like our political parties. The Pharisees were known for a strict legalism in interpreting Jewish laws and a respect for tradition. The other political party was the Herodians, Jews who were loyal to Herod and supportive of Rome’s presence in Israel.

The Herodians probably supported paying taxes. The Pharisees probably would not have. In Torah law, which they held sacred, selling land to outsiders is forbidden because it belongs only to God. (Leviticus 25:23) From their strict viewpoint, Caesar did not have a right to God’s land and was, therefore, not entitled to collect taxes from God’s people. Second, the coin held a graven image, a picture of Caesar, considered a god by the Romans. To touch it and use it was to acknowledge a god besides Yahweh. It’s easy to imagine the insult this coin represented to the Pharisees who were forced to handle it day after day.

So consider Jesus in the midst of this group. If Jesus had said, “Pay the taxes,” the Pharisees would have had one more issue to hold against him. If he had said, “Don’t pay the taxes,” Roman loyalists might have had him arrested. This either-or situation is exactly where his audience wanted him to be, and Jesus knew it.

¹⁷ Now tell us what you think about this: Is it right to pay taxes to Caesar or not?” (Matthew 22:17)

Jesus refused to participate. “You hypocrites,” he told his challengers. What is important, Jesus told them, is not paying taxes to Caesar, or the coin with which it is paid. What is important is remembering who you are and whose you are. , “give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and give to God what belongs to God.” (Matthew 22:21)

In other words, Jesus tells them to give to the civic authority what belongs to them, and to give to God what belongs to God. And, Jesus could have added, “make sure you know the difference.” Jesus did know the difference. Jesus was not concerned with politics; Jesus was concerned with love and justice. “Give to God what belongs to God” is a mandate to reevaluate life. Knowing the difference between Caesar and God isn’t an either-or kind of thing. Rather, it’s a matter of love and justice, a matter of living in the way Jesus lived.

When I think of people who actively and creatively balance this giving to the society and giving to God, I think of former president Jimmy Carter. When Carter, a devout Christian, received the Nobel Peace Prize for his work to find peaceful solutions to international conflicts, the Nobel committee wrote in their press release from Oslo, Norway: “In a situation currently marked by threats of the use of power, Carter has stood by the principles that conflicts must as far as possible be resolved through mediation and international cooperation based on international law, respect for human rights, and economic development.” Jimmy Carter’s deep commitment to this work has its basis in his deep faithfulness to Jesus Christ.

For some of us the world is an either-or kind of place. For some of us, God is an either-or kind of God. But for Jesus, the tension between Caesar and God did not exist. God was everything. To Caesar he gave respect, but never the authority over how he was to live or die. We see this most profoundly at the end of his life, when Jesus stood before Pilate, the highest Roman official in Israel, the one who had the power of Jesus’ life and death in his hands.

“Pilate therefore said to him, ‘Do you refuse to speak to me? Do you not know that I have power to release you, and power to crucify you?’ Jesus answered him, ‘You would have no power over me unless it had been given you from above...‘ From then on Pilate tried to release him, but the Jews cried out, ‘If you release this man, you are no friend of the emperor. Everyone who claims to be a king sets himself against the emperor.’” (John 19:10-12)

While it’s easy to focus on ourselves and to become overwhelmed by the stresses and demands of our daily lives, we need to look up and look out. We need to remember that we are part of something bigger: a larger community, a nation, a world. For Christians, the basis for our allegiance to our community, our nation, and our world is our faithfulness to God and our commitment to following the way of Jesus Christ in love, in justice, in forgiveness, and in peace.

“Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”

With God’s help—we will.

¹⁰ “Why don’t you talk to me?” Pilate demanded. “Don’t you realize that I have the power to release you or crucify you?” “¹¹ Then Jesus said, “You would have no power over me at all unless it were given to you from above. So the one who handed me over to you has the greater sin.” “¹² Then Pilate tried to release him, but the Jewish leaders shouted, “If you release this man, you are no ‘friend of Caesar.’ Anyone who declares himself a king is a rebel against Caesar.”

AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

A Difficult Parable Filled with Surprises

2011-10-09T04:00:00.000-07:00

SERMON #0680.00
10/13/02 (2125), 10/09/11 (3086)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “Christ Whose Glory Fills the Skies” #173
Sermon Hymn: “The King of Love My Shepherd Is” #138
Closing Hymn: “Rejoice Ye Pure in Heart” #160

Matthew 22:1-14 (NLT)
Parable of the Great Feast
Jesus also told them other parables. He said, 2 “The Kingdom of Heaven can be illustrated by the story of a king who prepared a great wedding feast for his son. 3 When the banquet was ready, he sent his servants to notify those who were invited. But they all refused to come!
4 “So he sent other servants to tell them, ‘The feast has been prepared. The bulls and fattened cattle have been killed, and everything is ready. Come to the banquet!’ 5 But the guests he had invited ignored them and went their own way, one to his farm, another to his business. 6 Others seized his messengers and insulted them and killed them.
7 “The king was furious, and he sent out his army to destroy the murderers and burn their town. 8 And he said to his servants, ‘The wedding feast is ready, and the guests I invited aren’t worthy of the honor. 9 Now go out to the street corners and invite everyone you see.’ 10 So the servants brought in everyone they could find, good and bad alike, and the banquet hall was filled with guests.
11 “But when the king came in to meet the guests, he noticed a man who wasn’t wearing the proper clothes for a wedding. 12 ‘Friend,’ he asked, ‘how is it that you are here without wedding clothes?’ But the man had no reply. 13 Then the king said to his aides, ‘Bind his hands and feet and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’
14 “For many are called, but few are chosen.”

If you ever find a list of difficult stories from the Bible, there is a good chance the story of the wedding feast, especially Matthew’s version, will be mentioned. There is another similar parable of Jesus found in Luke’s Gospel (Luke 14:15-24), but Luke’s version has little of the darkness and judgment found in Matthew’s version. There have been many attempts by scholars to reconcile these two versions, but their differences are so telling, we might as well conclude that each is a faithful representation of a story that Jesus told at a different time and place.

The wisdom of some biblical scholars is that we do best if we treat each parable on its own terms, and that is the approach taken here. As a result we need to wrestle with some of the heavy issues presented just by Matthew’s version of this story. In particular we need to struggle with the fact that the invitation to the wedding isn’t simply accepted and received. There clearly are those who refuse the invitation to the wedding banquet. Those who refuse are the same people who possess the audacity to embarrass the king who made the invitation in the first place. That’s another hard element to explain in the story.

Those who refuse the invitation even kill the servants sent by the king, and then, having invoked the anger of the king, find themselves murdered and their cities destroyed. So much for a cheerful kind of parable in which all live happily ever after. So much for a “saved at the last moment” kind of story of reclamation of those about to do evil, who repent at the last moment, and start to live sanctified lives.

What happened to the story of the hired hands—some of whom were hired early and some who were hired at mid-day—and some who were hired at the last hour—and all receiving the same wage?

It isn’t like that at all. So many who could live happily ever after choose not to. Others supposedly not invited in the first place, seemingly left out in the cold, get in but only by default. Finally, there is the guy who doesn’t wear the right wedding garment who gets thrown out, not just out the door, but into what Jesus called the “outer darkness.” The whole thing comes to an end, but only as Jesus declares, perhaps with an ominous voice, “Many are called, but few are chosen”. (Luke 14:14)

If the biblical theologian Robert Capon is correct about his idea that grace is a subtext in this story, we might have to dig deep. Is there any way we can possibly find at least a few glimmers of redemption and hope in this story? We need to inquire if there are elements that properly motivate us to joyfully accept God’s grace and love, presuming, of course, that we are ready to respond. Even if those are the elements seemingly repressed and even forgotten in this banquet story, where are they?

Our analysis can begin with a simple understanding about the need for the two kinds of invitations we hear in this parable. In a seminary class I had on the “New Testament”, our teacher explained that in Middle Eastern culture there were often two kinds of invitations issued for a community banquet. Only after all the guests accepted would the host determine what the main menu would be. If very few were coming, they might kill a chicken or two. For a slightly larger number the host might serve lamb. If the whole community was invited, then there was a good chance that beef would be on the menu.

Tucked away in this story there is an indication that a great many people were expected since the main menu included oxen and fattened beasts. The wedding of the king’s son was to be a huge community event. No wonder many were chosen and invited. Jesus is right, many are and were called. Even though we need to pay attention to the snobs who have the audacity to refuse to come at the last minute, we must also keep in mind the design of the banquet—its breadth and scope. For Jesus is saying that in terms of trying to understand the relationship between God and all humanity, we may see this relationship as a wedding banquet.

Knowing how important this image is for Jesus, we need to examine the rejection of the invitation by those invited. The NIV says that they paid no attention to the invitation. That suggests a little of what their rejection is about, but it isn’t as if they didn’t know about it. They knew and they didn’t care.

A few verses later we have a slightly humorous reference to these people who rejected the invitation, for it says they were not worthy. In the eyes of the world, this is hard to believe since those who reject the invitation have property, have businesses to run, and even have power they can exercise. Those first invited obviously had a reason to be respected and admired—so why aren’t they worthy?

The curious answer to this question may lie in the way the new invitation is expressed. Having headed out onto the highways the servants gathered all whom they found—now that is an interesting piece of information. All who were found show up. What makes a person worthy? We’re tempted to think it might be determined ahead of time, but that’s not exactly on target. Worth seems to depend more upon response than it does upon righteous living. We need the next clue. We need to hear about those who do not respond to the invitation. At this point we learn that all gathered in were both evil and good. Only then does Jesus say the wedding was filled with guests.

Now wait a minute, we declare! What’s this with the evil and the good getting in together? Shouldn’t it be just the good? What we know about the trouble that Jesus caused back in his ministry, and the kind of trouble Jesus still causes, is that there have always been a few, and sometimes more than a few, who want to dictate to God the terms under which grace, salvation, and forgiveness should be offered. There are always a few who want to keep a hand on the matter of their own way into heaven, meaning they want a way into heaven on their own terms, a way that respects their understanding of righteousness. And they want to possess the authority of getting into a relationship with God when it is most convenient and most self-serving.

What we know about the trouble that Jesus caused back in his ministry, and the kind of trouble Jesus still causes, is that there have always been a few, and sometimes more than a few, who want to dictate to God the terms under which grace, salvation, and forgiveness should be offered. There are always a few who want to keep a hand on the matter of their own way into heaven, meaning they want a way into heaven on their own terms, a way that respects their understanding of righteousness. And they want to possess the authority of getting into a relationship with God when it is most convenient and most self-serving.

That means that we want to live life on our terms—do what we want to do and still get into the kingdom. We’ve all heard the phrase, “He” or “She is a good person.”—But that’s not enough. Jesus wants us to respond to his invitation HIS WAY! That’s the big stumbling block. It is the very one Paul said we’d find with the cross of Christ, which he said would be a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Greeks. (1 Corinthians 1:23)

When we find ourselves with that lone holdout who refuses to wear the wedding garment, we may have a reactionary, a throwback to the earlier people who refused the invitation due to what the text says is their not caring. Actually, they may have cared a great deal, but about the wrong things. Now, at the end of this story, Jesus describes a guy who had free wedding clothes issued to him. All he needed to do was to accept the grace of the new clothes, but for whatever reasons, he chose to wear the clothes of his old life. On that basis, he also chose to live on his own terms. It is no wonder he’s thrown out, because the banquet is all about living on God’s terms.

Lo and behold, we discover, even in this seemingly difficult parable about judgment in which some end up in the outer darkness, that there is a deep vein of God’s love and grace from beginning to end. It’s there in the idea of the wedding banquet. It’s there in the successive invitations and the ever-widening circle of humanity included. The grace and love of God is found in the assumption that you’re in by virtue of the invitation, and not as a result of your place in the world or even some heavenly scorecard God has been keeping. The only scorecard is found at the door. Either you walk in or you walk out.

Why? Because it is all about the free accepting, loving grace of God. It isn’t about an up-down world in which some make it and many don’t. Here it is all reframed. All are in as long as they simply accept the grace offered. Mysteriously some want grace on their own terms. Graciously and lovingly God offers it on terms that are unconditional. Surprisingly, this is a story filled with grace.

AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

The Race Is Won!

2011-10-02T04:00:00.000-07:00

SERMON #0825
03/28/04 (2); 10/02/11;
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “My Hope is Built on Nothing Less” #368
Sermon Hymn: “Standing on the Promises of Christ My King” #374
Closing Hymn: “Something Beautiful, Something Good” #394

(Philippians 3:4b-14)
“4b Indeed, if others have reason for confidence in their own efforts, I have even more!”
“5 I was circumcised when I was eight days old. I am a pure-blooded citizen of Israel and a member of the tribe of Benjamin—a real Hebrew if there ever was one! I was a member of the Pharisees, who demand the strictest obedience to the Jewish law. 6 I was so zealous that I harshly persecuted the church. And as for righteousness, I obeyed the law without fault.”
“7 I once thought these things were valuable, but now I consider them worthless because of what Christ has done. 8 Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage, so that I could gain Christ 9 and become one with him. I no longer count on my own righteousness through obeying the law; rather, I become righteous through faith in Christ. For God’s way of making us right with himself depends on faith. 10 I want to know Christ and experience the mighty power that raised him from the dead. I want to suffer with him, sharing in his death, 11 so that one way or another I will experience the resurrection from the dead!
Pressing toward the Goal
12 I don’t mean to say that I have already achieved these things or that I have already reached perfection. But I press on to possess that perfection for which Christ Jesus first possessed me. 13 No, dear brothers and sisters, I have not achieved it, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, 14 I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us.

Nervously, anxiously, she waits with a group of a thousand runners who were about to run a 26.2-mile race known as a marathon. The starter pistol sounds, and the herd of humanity began to move forward, slowly at first. She felt like she was in a vacuum, being pushed, sucked, and shoved forward. Her heart begins to pound, and her breath started its rapid repetitions as she felt her diaphragm moving up and down. In the middle of the race, she hits her stride. Everything was in harmony; her body, her limbs, the ground beneath her feet all melded into one symphonic verse. She glided as if she were carried by the wind, wondering if she could last forever in that euphoric state. Then suddenly without warning it hit. Some call it a wall. For her, it is more like a collision, a realization that every cell within her wanted to shut down. Her body cried out for her to stop. She truly began to feel each pebble in the pavement below her tired aching feet. Will the finish line ever come?

Such is the life of a long-distance runner. Perhaps it is a life with which very few of us will ever identify. Most of us will never experience running a marathon; I know I haven’t. The closest I’ve ever come to that is running the loop at Parris Island, South Carolina, once a week, 17 years ago and that was only 5.6 miles. But you know, the experiences of a marathon runner may be closer to us than we imagine. Some people refer to life as a race. We begin slowly, then come to a crawl. Then, incredibly, our lives begin to speed up until we limp, emotionally and physically, to the finish line. As we run this race, there are the proverbial peaks and valleys. Walls come up to hit us in the face and knock us flat. We run with elation, and we run with pain. And no matter where we run or how we run, we wonder about the purpose and meaning of it all. We investigate the deep questions of our lives and ask if God has anything to do with our running. We wonder about the purpose of running at all. What does all this running accomplish?

As Paul wrote his letter to the Philippians, he asked questions like these: He wondered about the purpose of everything that he had done. He questioned his life as a Pharisee. When Paul examined it all, he saw the futility of his former life. He recognized that his life as a student of the law did nothing to assure him that God was with him. He had been circumcised on the eighth day, a member of the people of Israel, the tribe of Benjamin. He had been a persecutor of the church, and viewed from the standards of the law, he was blameless. All of this, however, was to no avail. For Paul still did not believe and trust that God was with him, nor did Paul experience any vision of God’s grace.

Paul’s meaning came finally from Jesus Christ. In verse 8 he states, “⁸ Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” It was this knowledge that empowered Paul to run. And as he ran, Paul knew that his ability to finish the race was not up to him. His only responsibility was to keep on. Keep on running. Keep on moving. Keep on serving. In his words, “Christ Jesus first possessed me. ” (or “made me his own”—Philippians 3:12) Paul’s new identity in Christ made him realize that when the race finally ended, there would be nothing more and nothing less than that very same Jesus. That same Jesus motivated Paul to say earlier in the letter. “For to me, living is Christ and dying is gain.” (Philippians 1:21)

Jesus became the object of Paul’s faith as he traveled life’s road. Paul knew that the outcome at the end of his travel was not in doubt, for it would not be up to him to obtain that heavenly prize. That prize would be a gift to him as a result of how Jesus had made him his own on the cross.

As you and I run this race of life, questions are certain to arise. In the midst of the speed bumps that surprise us as well as the storms that surround us, we have more than our share of questions and doubts. We experience times when we wonder whether we are running alone, without support from anyone—including God.

Yet the same Christ that made Paul his own has claimed us and named us. Certainly we do not know what our futures hold, but we know that Jesus holds us as we move into the future. Strengthened by faith in a present and risen Jesus, we need not look back in our past and stay stuck there. We can proceed down the road of life. Even as we continue to press on toward the goal of eternal life, we know that this prize already has been won and given to us through the gift of God’s grace.

So in the end, we realize that our lives are not marathons to be endured; they are events to be celebrated. With a sense of celebration then, we continue. We continue to press on, to serve, to praise, to worship, and to proclaim that we are Christ’s own. We will continue to be faithful to the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

ΙΗΣ - Jesus

2011-09-25T04:00:00.000-07:00

SERMON # 0327.02
09/29/96 (1503); 09/24/11 (3085)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “All Hail the Power of Jesus’ Name” #154
Sermon Hymn: “He Is Lord, He Is Lord” #177
Closing Hymn: “O How I Love Jesus” #170

Philippians 2:1-13
Have the Attitude of Christ
1 Is there any encouragement from belonging to Christ? Any comfort from his love? Any fellowship together in the Spirit? Are your hearts tender and compassionate? 2 Then make me truly happy by agreeing wholeheartedly with each other, loving one another, and working together with one mind and purpose.
3 Don’t be selfish; don’t try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves. 4 Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too.
5 You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had.
6 Though he was God, he did not think of equality with God as something to cling to. 7 Instead, he gave up his divine privileges; he took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being. When he appeared in human form, 8 he humbled himself in obedience to God and died a criminal’s death on a cross.
9 Therefore, God elevated him to the place of highest honor and gave him the name above all other names, 10 that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11 and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.
Shine Brightly for Christ
12 Dear friends, you always followed my instructions when I was with you. And now that I am away, it is even more important. Work hard to show the results of your salvation, obeying God with deep reverence and fear. 13 For God is working in you, giving you the desire and

INTRODUCTION. There is a symbol in many churches that few people fully understand. You may have seen it on an altar cloth, on a minister’s stole, or even carved behind the chancel. Three letters: IHS. What do they mean?

I am confident the majority of persons would answer, that it means “In His Steps” or maybe “In His Service” or perhaps “In His Spirit.” Those are good answers, but the dictionary provides the right answer. “IHS—or more correctly—ΙΗΣ, is made up of three (3) Greek letters: Iota (Ι), Eta (Η), Sigma (Σ); long used as a Christian symbol and monogram.” Those are the first three letters of the name of Jesus in Greek—ΙΗΣΟΥΣ (Jesus). They are a sort of shorthand way of reminding us that Jesus is the most important concern of the church.

I do not know who started the idea that the letters mean “In His Steps,” but perhaps that comes from our confession “It’s Greek to me” or from the popular book by that name. Charles Sheldon’s In His Steps sold twenty million copies. Next to the Bible, it is probably one of the most popular books ever published.

It is, without a doubt, one of the most challenging and inspiring books I have ever read. The story is a simple one. On a Sunday morning, a preacher and his congregation are challenged by a strange visitor to consider what it means to follow Jesus. He had listened as the congregation sang about taking up their crosses and following Jesus, and he simply asked whether they knew what they were singing. He suggested that following Jesus meant doing what Jesus would do in every situation in life. The next Sunday the preacher challenged his people to ask the question, for one full year: “What would Jesus do?” After asking that question, the congregation was to follow the example of Jesus as exactly as they knew how, no matter what the consequences. A large group of people in that church did accept the challenge. The book goes on to tell the story of the changes that total commitment to Christ made in their lives and community.

“What would Jesus do?”——It’s a haunting question, isn’t it? Yet, that very question may be the most elementary and most overlooked aspect of what it really means to be a Christian. It is so obvious we would most likely admit, “Well, I know that I should ask that.” But if we seriously asked ourselves that question and answered it in our daily lives, we just might become totally new persons. If we decided as a congregation to raise that issue, this church would be dramatically changed as well.

Several occupations use a template, which is defined as “a gauge, pattern, or mold used as a guide to the form of a piece being made.” Perhaps Christians ought to begin to use the template or pattern we have been given. After Jesus had washed the feet of the disciples at the Last Supper, he spoke of how he wanted them to do as he had done: “For I have set you an example...” (John 13:15) As we read in 1 Peter, “For to this you have been called because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you should follow in his steps” (1 Peter 2:21) And again in 1 John: “By this we may be sure that we are in him: whoever says, ‘I abide in him,’ ought to walk just as he walked.” (1 John 2:5b‑6)

Jesus is the model. We are to copy him in order to become more Christlike Christians! We are to embody all that Christ did and all he stood for—as best we can. We are to be more as a ~~chapel~~church or worshiping community of believers, than a secular organization that sometimes looks to Christ for direction. We are to be his body. The plan is for Christ to be alive in and through us. Some years back, Edward L. Tullis wrote a book entitled Shaping the Church From the Mind of Christ, a study of Philippians. He said, “It seems to me that the entire letter to the Philippians is an exposition of what it means to possess and be possessed of that mind of Christ...Paul calls upon his beloved community at Philippi to set their mind, their spirit, their agenda, and their mission from the mind of Christ.”

We are to put on or develop the “Christ mind set.” He adds. It might be that “IHΣ” means “In His Spirit.” That would mean we need to become more knowledgeable of the life, ministry, and teachings of Jesus. What shape did Jesus’ ministry take? What did he value above all other things? What did he spend his time doing? What was his lifestyle? How did he relate to other people? How did he handle his problems?

Those questions are fundamental exercises of our faith. After we ask them and answer them, we must be prepared to act on what we discover. Thomas A. Kempis, in his devotional classic, The Imitation of Christ, gave four commitments that are a part of imitating Christ: “Be desirous . . . to do the will of another rather than thine own. Choose always to have less rather than more. Seek always the lowest place and to be beneath every one. Wish always and pray that the will of God may be wholly fulfilled in thee.”

In his book, The Jesus Model, David McKenna suggests that Jesus is a model by “whom we measure our own development as human beings created in the image of God...” Dietrich Bonhoeffer spoke of “allowing oneself to be caught up into the way of Jesus Christ.” There is an inscription carved in stone in front of the Department of Philosophy building at one of our leading universities that reads, “Nestle into the mind of Plato and think from there.” Surely the Christian is to “nestle into the mind of Christ and think from there.” We are to have such a relationship with and understanding of the thought and heart of Jesus Christ that we ultimately have the mind that was in him. Perhaps that means we should adopt Christ’s way of more perfectly fulfilling the image of God than any other person. Perhaps it means following his way of simplicity, servanthood, suffering, and selflessness.

Or might it mean we need to more nearly follow his example of humility? Paul wrote, “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others.” That was how Jesus saw himself and others: “He humbled himself.”

One night at a party, Oscar Levant had watched George Gershwin monopolize conversations, play his own music, and place himself as the center of attention. Finally, Levant walked over to Gershwin and asked, “Tell me, George, if you had it to do over again, would you fall in love with yourself once more?” So many of us have a love affair with ourselves. Our only concern begins and ends with ourselves.

But not Jesus! “Though he was in the form of God, (he) did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself.” Not full of himself, but emptied out in self‑giving and self‑sacrifice.

May that mind be in us all.

AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron

The Paradox of Imprisonment

2011-09-18T04:00:00.000-07:00

SERMON # 1345.01 [Last saved 9/21/11 7:23 AM]
09/18/11 (3083)
Hymns: Opening Hymn: “And Are We Yet Alive” #553
Sermon Hymn: “Lift Every Voice and Sing” #519
Closing Hymn: “More Love to Thee, O Christ” #453

Philippians 1:21-30
21 For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. 22 If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! 23 I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; 24 but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body. 25 Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith, 26 so that through my being with you again your boasting in Christ Jesus will abound on account of me.
Life Worthy of the Gospel
27 Whatever happens, conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ. Then, whether I come and see you or only hear about you in my absence, I will know that you stand firm in the one Spirit, striving together as one for the faith of the gospel 28 without being frightened in any way by those who oppose you. This is a sign to them that they will be destroyed, but that you will be saved—and that by God. 29 For it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe in him, but also to suffer for him, 30 since you are going through the same struggle you saw I had, and now hear that I still have.

Despite occasional jokes about country club jails and criminals earning their way to three meals a day, imprisonment is one of the harshest punishments human beings can impose on one another. It severely restricts a person’s freedom and self-determination, two of the most important ingredients in human life. Inmates are expected to fit into the regimen of the prison and relinquish virtually all control over their own behavior and lifestyle. And, of course, prisoners are subject to physical, verbal, and emotional abuse from other prisoners and occasionally prison guards.

These conditions are even more intolerable when a person is imprisoned, not for a real crime, but for opposing the policies or practices of the ruling power. These political imprisonments are unjust and violate the human and social order that prisons are intended to protect.

And yet, despite the negative aspects of imprisonment, there is something uniquely powerful in the experience, especially for those imprisoned for opposing injustice. The life work and contributions of people like Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther King Jr. might not have been the same if they had never spent time behind bars. And the literature such prisoners have produced, often in the form of letters from jail, constitutes a testimony to the resilient human spirit.

Paul’s letter to the Philippians is not only an example of this paradox of imprisonment; it is practically the origin of it in Christian tradition. Scholars cannot be sure during which of Paul’s imprisonments this letter was written. It seems he is in the custody of the Romans (from his reference to the imperial guard in Philippians 1:13) and has been perceived as a serious enough threat that he might even be executed (Philippians 1:20), but you wouldn’t know it from reading the letter. The dominant theme is Paul’s joy at the faith of the Philippians and the spreading of the gospel.

In the first part of this letter, Paul declares that “what has happened to me has actually helped to spread the gospel.” (Philippians 1:12) This is not wishful thinking; Paul can point to the way the gospel has become known throughout the imperial guard and elsewhere as people learn he is imprisoned for Christ. In addition, Paul knows that Christians in the city where he is being held are proclaiming the gospel more boldly and fearlessly because of his example. This is not an uncommon occurrence. When the leader of a movement is imprisoned, the movement often gains more public attention and the followers rally more strongly to the cause. It’s one of the paradoxes of imprisonment.

A second paradox is that prison is supposed to break a person’s will and make her or him conform to the laws and expectations of the ruling power, but it often has the opposite effect. Paul certainly sounds more self-determined than ever as he speculates on his future. He may be put to death, which for him is a gain because it will unite him with the Lord forever. If, on the other hand, he is released, it will enable him to continue preaching, which he also desires. Although Paul says he does not know which he prefers (Philippians 1:22), he basically faces a win-win situation. This is not what his opponents had in mind when they imprisoned him.

The third paradox Paul addresses is the privilege of suffering for Christ. Ordinarily human beings try to avoid suffering. Most people, unless they have a psychological disorder, view suffering as an unwanted and negative aspect of life, which they try to eliminate as quickly as possible. Suffering conflicts with our basic desire to be happy, secure, and content. Paul is certainly not promoting suffering nor is he yearning to make himself miserable, but he realizes that the message of Jesus makes some people uncomfortable because of the changes it requires in their lives. They in turn avoid the challenge by disposing of the messenger. When this happens, it is a sign that one is doing what the Lord expects—and what the Lord experienced in his own life.

Paul presents this point to the Philippians as an exhortation (the beginning of his first exhortation in this letter) not to be intimidated by their opponents. If these people think they are exonerating themselves by inflicting suffering on Christians, they are actually showing that their way of life is leading to destruction, whereas the suffering that Christians bear because of their union with the Lord is evidence of their salvation. (Philippians 1:28)

Once again, this is not hollow encouragement. Paul knows the Philippians are facing the same struggles and the same threats that he continues to face. He is confident they will remain steadfast, not primarily because of his example, but because such suffering for the Lord “is God’s doing.” It is the price one pays for living a godly life in a sinful world, but it is also the assurance one has that this very suffering deepens one’s union with the Lord.

Few of us are likely to face the paradox of imprisonment because of our belief in Jesus, but most of us will face some degree of opposition, rejection, adversity, and even persecution when our embodiment of the Lord’s life disturbs others. When we refuse to join in on racial comments or sexual jokes, when we are willing to articulate social and political positions that benefit minority and disadvantaged groups, when we make decisions about the economy and investment opportunities that are consistent with the priority of the common good, when we represent a true concern for the environment and refuse to give polluters a free hand, and when we voice opposition to the flaunting of moral standards in entertainment and advertising, we can expect to feel the repercussions.

The challenge for us in today’s reading is whether we are able to do what Paul did when we encounter opposition and hostility. First of all, are we able to see such situations as a way to further the gospel and proclaim Jesus’ values? Second, are we able to maintain the self-determination of our convictions and not compromise or cave in to make our lives more comfortable and conflict-free? Third, are we willing to accept the suffering that may result and affirm it as a privilege and sign that the Lord is working through us? God’s strength and grace make it possible for us to respond, “Yes!”

AMEN & AMEN,
Brother Ron