The Fourth Sunday in Lent March 2, 2008
Texts: John 9:1-41
Our Gospel lesson is a long story with many twists and turns; which is why I let you sit down while I read it to you.
It is a story that requires us to pay close attention to the double meaning of words.
It is also a story that reminds us that God looks at the world very differently than we do.
The story follows a fairly simple outline:
1- 1-7 – Jesus heals a man born blind
2– 8-12 – The neighbors are puzzled and ask questions.
3– 13–17 - The Pharisees are puzzled and ask questions.
4- 18-23 – The parents are puzzled and are asked questions and bail on their son.
5-24-34- The Pharisees ask more questions, the man gives the best answers he can.
The Pharisees get mad.
6- 35-41- The man and Jesus talk. Jesus gives answers. Sort of.
In the midst of this simple story, lots of questions are raised, questions about the ways of God, questions about sin and punishment, questions about Good and Evil.
Mostly questions about Jesus; Who is he? Is he Good? Is he Evil? Is he the Devil?
Is he the Messiah?
The story starts with Jesus seeing a man born blind and the disciples asking a, well, a stupid question.
At least it seems stupid to us, but it made perfect sense to them. They believed in a first century version of instant Karma, of direct punishment for sins. As the saying goes, “Somebody’s gotta pay!
The man was born blind, so it’s obvious his blindness is God’s punishment for some sin. But whose? Did the parents get a blind son as punishment for some sin of their own? Or is the man being punished for some cosmic sin committed in the spirit world?
This was a common belief at the time of Jesus. It is the result of a belief in a completely and totally fair and just God. And we fall victim to this sort of thinking all the time.“What did I do to deserve this?” we whine when something inconvenient happens to us; as if God sits in heaven with a sin-o-meter, keeping track of our misdeeds and meting out demerits for Sacred Honor Code violations.
But, it doesn’t work that way, which is a good thing for us. Because if we really were directly punished for our sins, we’d all be a lot worse off than we are; me especially.
Jesus says that neither the man nor his parents are to blame, then he heals him; with mud and spit and a wash in the spring, all the while talking about being the light of the world and being about God’s work.
Then the cycle of questioning begins.
First the neighbors. And we have to admit, we’d be as amazed and confused and puzzled as they. He looks like the man born blind, but, but, this guy can see; how could that happen?
I’ve cleared this illustration with Norman. We’re all used to seeing Norman Whitesell rambling around here in his electric wheel chair, doing the children’s sermon, taking communion, singing with the trio, chairing committee meetings etc.
His being in the wheelchair has become normal for us. What if Norman just walked in here one day? We would be all kinds of shocked wouldn’t we? Who is this? What happened? It can’t be?
The Blind man kept saying. “It’s me. It’s really me.”And they kept saying, but HOW?
And the man told the simple unvarnished truth, without interpretation;
“This man called Jesus made mud, spread it on my eyes and said to me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’ Then I went and washed and received my sight.”
Next it was the Pharisees turn, the religious right wing, those who were so certain they were right that they couldn’t see the forest for the trees, those who had created a strict understanding of how God works in the world, and no little miracle was going to change their understanding of God.
They were convinced that God had set up the world so that:
1) sinners can not do miracles.
2) working on the Sabbath is a sin.
3) healing is work.
4) Jesus healed/worked on the Sabbath.
5) Therefore Jesus was a sinner, and
6) Therefore, Jesus could not work a miracle.
The whole discussion with the Pharisees and his parents and the Pharisees again, from verse 13 to verse 34, revolves around these issues; and I do mean revolves.
The discussion goes around in circles as the man who once was blind sticks to his straight story about his healing; no interpretation, no elaboration. In the old TV show Dragnet style, he gives, “just the facts.”
I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.
And the Pharisees can’t take it. What has happened has broken their model for how God works.
Jesus does things that they consider sin, and sinners can’t work miracles and yet this man claims Jesus healed him. Does not Compute! Does not compute!
In a recent issue of Ministry magazine, Margaret Shuster, a professor at Fuller Seminary in California say, “Some of us, . . .know too little about the seeming contrariness of God . . .” (Ministry, March 2008, p.11) I like that, “the seeming contrariness of God.”
We don’t like it when God gets contrary, do we? We like God to color between the lines, to follow the speed limit and stay in the right lane.
And the Bible shows us a God who likes to speed, who can sometimes barely keep it between the ditches, who not only does not color between the lines; it sometimes appears that God doesn’t even know that the lines are there.
If we try to see God and God’s activity in the world as limited by our ability to figure out how God could or should behave, we have created, in the words of bible translator JB Phillips, a “God who is too small.”
If you think you have God figured out, you are like the poster my wife used to have up over her desk when we were in college. It showed a grumpy looking Gorilla with its hands over its ears and its eyes closed. The caption read,
DON’T CONFUSE ME WITH THE FACTS
I’VE ALREADY MADE UP MY MIND!
That was the Pharisees, they had already made up their minds. Though the neighbors and the parents swore that this man had been born blind, though it was obvious that he could now see, though it testified over and over that Jesus had done it, they couldn’t accept it; it did not fit their preconceived and thought out plan of how God works in the world. And so, they got mad and threw the man out.
Now we turn to the last paragraph, where John shows us the man born blind having a conversation with Jesus. Jesus reveals his identity as the Messiah, the Christ, the Son of Man. And the man born blind confesses his faith saying, “Lord, I believe!” Then John shows Jesus explaining what has just happened. Listen carefully:
I came into this world for judgment so that those who do not see may see, and those who do see may become blind.
John is using the two meaning of sight and blindness here. Physical sight and spiritual awareness, and is making it clear to the Pharisees that they are the truly blind people in the story.
When my boys were little, I taught myself a phrase to say when they goofed up, as kids are always going to do. Instead of yelling or fussing when they made a mess or broke something or got into a fight, I tried to always say, "Okay, what have we learned from this?"
It’s a good question to ask about this story, what have we learned from this?
1) We have learned that life is not exactly fair. We are not directly punished for our sins and we are not directly rewarded for our good deeds; which, for most of us, is a good deal; since our sins generally outweigh our good deeds.
2) We have learned that, in the words of the old Ray Stevens song, Everything Is Beautiful: "There is none so blind as he who will not see."
The Pharisees refused to recognize that Jesus was a good man, a healer, perhaps a prophet, maybe the Messiah; because he did not fit their system. The question for us is simple: what truth about God have we failed to see because it does not fit with the way we want to see the world.
3) We have learned that the Bible teaches Jesus as more than a good man, a teacher of moral truth, an insightful interpreter of human nature. We have learned that the Bible teaches that Jesus is The Son of Man, the Christ, the Messiah, the Light of the world. That he came into this world to open our eyes to the truth about God and love and sin and forgiveness.
4) And we have learned that our calling is to be like the man born blind. We are called to tell the simple, clear unvarnished truth about how Jesus has touched and changed our lives. Nothing More and nothing Less.
We are called to say, One thing I know, that though I was blind,now I see.
Amen and Amen.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
The Third Sunday in Lent
THE THIRD SUNDAY IN LENT
February 24, 2008
Text: John 4:5-42
It was in 1978, 30 years ago, that the Lutheran Book of Worship, the LBW, the infamous “Green Book,” was published and introduced into Lutheran congregations.
One of the “new things” that the Green Book introduced was the passing of the peace. This was not met with, um, universal enthusiasm shall we say, amongst traditionally stoic and reserved German Lutherans in the South.
While I was in seminary in SC in the early 1980’s, I remember reading in the Synod’s Newsletter about one pastor’s experience teaching his congregation about passing the peace.
He had written a newsletter article about it, preached a sermon about it, finally the fateful day came when he turned from the Altar and said to the congregation, in what he hoped was a warm and encouraging voice,
“The Lord be with you!” “And also with you.” came the mumbled, almost hushed, reply.
Stepping bravely out of his appointed place in the chancel, the pastor went forward to the front row to shake the hand of the woman there and greet her with words of peace.
She was someone he barely knew, who only came at Christmas and Easter and who always slipped out during the last hymn.
The moment his hand touched the hand the elderly woman tentatively held out, her face crumbled, her eyes flowed with tears and she fled the building by a side door.
It was all the pastor could do to finish the service, and as soon as possible he drove to her house to check on her.
She politely ushered him into the “front room,” and told him, “I’m so sorry I made such a scene. It’s hard to explain. You see pastor, since my husband died 5 years ago; you’re the first person who has touched me.”
There are many people in the world today who are yearning to be touched, looking for someone to reach out to them, to make contact with them.
Ours is a world full of hurting, lonely, scared and scarred folk, needing to be touched and healed.
In our Gospel lesson today, we read the story of a time when Jesus touched a life.
It is a story that calls us to the ministry of touching the lives of others with the love and concern of Christ.
It was not easy for Jesus to touch the Samaritan woman’s life. He had to overcome, or simply ignore, many societal and cultural barriers to do it.
He was a Jew – she was a Samaritan.
He was a man – she was a woman.
He was a Rabbi – she was a woman of suspect moral character.
Yet, here was Jesus,
a religious leader,
alone in a lonely place;
not only speaking to her
but holding a long conversation with her, someone he was not supposed
to even make contact with.
And yet, Jesus found a way to touch
and transform her life.
Jews considered Samaritans to be racially impure,
a mongrel race, half Jew and half Barbarian.
The Samaritans were the descendants of the lower class people left behind when the rich and educated and powerful leaders of Israel had been carted off in bondage to Babylon.
The ancestors of the Samaritans had inter-married with the non-Jews living in the area and had tried to keep the faith alive the best way they could without a temple or priesthood, passing on the Torah in oral fashion and worshipping at outdoor altars on mountaintops.
When the Jews returned from Babylon years later, they wouldn’t let the Samaritans help with the rebuilding of the Temple, indeed wouldn’t have anything to do with the Samaritans at all.
So the Samaritans built their own temple on Mount Girizim. Eventually, tensions between the groups erupted and an Israeli army destroyed the Samaritan temple, leaving them to worship on the lonely mountaintop.
Jesus was a Jew – she was a Samaritan;
they should ignore each other. But there’s more.
Even if she had been Jewish, the encounter would have been suspect, because many Jews believed that men should not speak to women in public.
The most strict Rabbis advised that men should not speak to their own wives in public.
There was even a group of devout Pharisees who were nicknamed the “black-and-blues,’ because they walked around in public with their eyes closed to avoid seeing a woman and kept running into things.
BUT Jesus ignored all this, and at mid-day, while sitting alone at a well, he asked her for a drink of water.
Nothing extraordinary, nothing stupendous or profound, just a drink of water.
And she could not have been more surprised if he had asked her to fly.
What was said between them was much less important than the fact that he spoke to her, he carried on a conversation with her, he treated her like a person worth knowing.
He treated her with respect, he treated her,
A SAMARITAN WOMAN!!!,
like someone who was acceptable,
like someone who was touchable.
He touched her life in that conversation.
He talked to her about important things;
about God and life and worship and love.
And most importantly, he did not condemn her as others had done.
Rather, he offered her an opportunity to change her life.
He offered her the Living Water of God’s Love.
He did not argue with her about the relative merits of Jewish and Samaritan ways of worshipping the same God.
Rather he shared with her his love for that God and his certainty that without Spirit and Truth, no worship was true.
He touched her – by going where she was.
He touched her – by ignoring societal barriers that
separated them.
He touched her – by letting her know that he cared about her, he accepted her, he loved her.
There’s an interesting little note in verse 28:
“Then the woman left her water jar and went . . .”
Several years ago in Nashville I heard Dr. John Fairless, now of First Baptist Church in Gainesville, FL, preach a sermon on that one line. “She left her water jar. . . “
His point was this; The Water Jar, and carrying it to the well alone in the middle of the day when all the other women went to the well together in the early morning, was a sign of her shame, of her old life of being a nobody.
When she went back to town without it, it became a symbol that she was leaving that old life behind and starting a new direction full of new possibilities.
What is your water jar?
What is it you have been carrying around that you need to put down?
What burden do you need to lay aside and abandon in order to more fully follow Christ?
I invite you to do that today.
Why don’t you leave your burden here,
never to be picked up again?
Trade in your burden, your restriction, your limits, your fears and shames and sorrows.
Lay them on the altar, and pick up Christ.
Pick up Christ’s love,
Christ’s acceptance,
Christ’s encouragement.
Trade in your water jar, your burden, your pain, your sorrow,
trade it in for a drink of that Living Water that only Christ can give.
Amen and Amen.
February 24, 2008
Text: John 4:5-42
It was in 1978, 30 years ago, that the Lutheran Book of Worship, the LBW, the infamous “Green Book,” was published and introduced into Lutheran congregations.
One of the “new things” that the Green Book introduced was the passing of the peace. This was not met with, um, universal enthusiasm shall we say, amongst traditionally stoic and reserved German Lutherans in the South.
While I was in seminary in SC in the early 1980’s, I remember reading in the Synod’s Newsletter about one pastor’s experience teaching his congregation about passing the peace.
He had written a newsletter article about it, preached a sermon about it, finally the fateful day came when he turned from the Altar and said to the congregation, in what he hoped was a warm and encouraging voice,
“The Lord be with you!” “And also with you.” came the mumbled, almost hushed, reply.
Stepping bravely out of his appointed place in the chancel, the pastor went forward to the front row to shake the hand of the woman there and greet her with words of peace.
She was someone he barely knew, who only came at Christmas and Easter and who always slipped out during the last hymn.
The moment his hand touched the hand the elderly woman tentatively held out, her face crumbled, her eyes flowed with tears and she fled the building by a side door.
It was all the pastor could do to finish the service, and as soon as possible he drove to her house to check on her.
She politely ushered him into the “front room,” and told him, “I’m so sorry I made such a scene. It’s hard to explain. You see pastor, since my husband died 5 years ago; you’re the first person who has touched me.”
There are many people in the world today who are yearning to be touched, looking for someone to reach out to them, to make contact with them.
Ours is a world full of hurting, lonely, scared and scarred folk, needing to be touched and healed.
In our Gospel lesson today, we read the story of a time when Jesus touched a life.
It is a story that calls us to the ministry of touching the lives of others with the love and concern of Christ.
It was not easy for Jesus to touch the Samaritan woman’s life. He had to overcome, or simply ignore, many societal and cultural barriers to do it.
He was a Jew – she was a Samaritan.
He was a man – she was a woman.
He was a Rabbi – she was a woman of suspect moral character.
Yet, here was Jesus,
a religious leader,
alone in a lonely place;
not only speaking to her
but holding a long conversation with her, someone he was not supposed
to even make contact with.
And yet, Jesus found a way to touch
and transform her life.
Jews considered Samaritans to be racially impure,
a mongrel race, half Jew and half Barbarian.
The Samaritans were the descendants of the lower class people left behind when the rich and educated and powerful leaders of Israel had been carted off in bondage to Babylon.
The ancestors of the Samaritans had inter-married with the non-Jews living in the area and had tried to keep the faith alive the best way they could without a temple or priesthood, passing on the Torah in oral fashion and worshipping at outdoor altars on mountaintops.
When the Jews returned from Babylon years later, they wouldn’t let the Samaritans help with the rebuilding of the Temple, indeed wouldn’t have anything to do with the Samaritans at all.
So the Samaritans built their own temple on Mount Girizim. Eventually, tensions between the groups erupted and an Israeli army destroyed the Samaritan temple, leaving them to worship on the lonely mountaintop.
Jesus was a Jew – she was a Samaritan;
they should ignore each other. But there’s more.
Even if she had been Jewish, the encounter would have been suspect, because many Jews believed that men should not speak to women in public.
The most strict Rabbis advised that men should not speak to their own wives in public.
There was even a group of devout Pharisees who were nicknamed the “black-and-blues,’ because they walked around in public with their eyes closed to avoid seeing a woman and kept running into things.
BUT Jesus ignored all this, and at mid-day, while sitting alone at a well, he asked her for a drink of water.
Nothing extraordinary, nothing stupendous or profound, just a drink of water.
And she could not have been more surprised if he had asked her to fly.
What was said between them was much less important than the fact that he spoke to her, he carried on a conversation with her, he treated her like a person worth knowing.
He treated her with respect, he treated her,
A SAMARITAN WOMAN!!!,
like someone who was acceptable,
like someone who was touchable.
He touched her life in that conversation.
He talked to her about important things;
about God and life and worship and love.
And most importantly, he did not condemn her as others had done.
Rather, he offered her an opportunity to change her life.
He offered her the Living Water of God’s Love.
He did not argue with her about the relative merits of Jewish and Samaritan ways of worshipping the same God.
Rather he shared with her his love for that God and his certainty that without Spirit and Truth, no worship was true.
He touched her – by going where she was.
He touched her – by ignoring societal barriers that
separated them.
He touched her – by letting her know that he cared about her, he accepted her, he loved her.
There’s an interesting little note in verse 28:
“Then the woman left her water jar and went . . .”
Several years ago in Nashville I heard Dr. John Fairless, now of First Baptist Church in Gainesville, FL, preach a sermon on that one line. “She left her water jar. . . “
His point was this; The Water Jar, and carrying it to the well alone in the middle of the day when all the other women went to the well together in the early morning, was a sign of her shame, of her old life of being a nobody.
When she went back to town without it, it became a symbol that she was leaving that old life behind and starting a new direction full of new possibilities.
What is your water jar?
What is it you have been carrying around that you need to put down?
What burden do you need to lay aside and abandon in order to more fully follow Christ?
I invite you to do that today.
Why don’t you leave your burden here,
never to be picked up again?
Trade in your burden, your restriction, your limits, your fears and shames and sorrows.
Lay them on the altar, and pick up Christ.
Pick up Christ’s love,
Christ’s acceptance,
Christ’s encouragement.
Trade in your water jar, your burden, your pain, your sorrow,
trade it in for a drink of that Living Water that only Christ can give.
Amen and Amen.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Second Sunday in Lent
The Second Sunday in Lent
Feb. 17, 2008
Texts: Genesis 12:1-4a, Romans 4:1-5, 13-17, John 3:1-17
Did you ever hear of a man named Harvey Pinick? A lot of golfers have. He wrote a best seller called Harvey Penick’s Little Red Book. There’s an interesting story about that.
Harvey Pinick was born in 1905. He started his golf career caddying at the Austin, Texas Country Club. He pretty much stayed there his whole life, moving up to golf pro and teacher.
In the 1920’s, Harvey bought a Red spiral notebook and began jotting down teaching notes, humorous stories and homespun philosophy derived from teaching and playing golf with all sorts of people. He never intended to show the book to anyone, he was going to give it to his son, someday.
In 1991, when he was 86 years old, Harvey showed the book to a writer he knew and ask him if it was worth publishing. The man took it, read it, and told him yes. The writer called Harvey’s house one day and talked to Harvey’s wife. He left a message that Simon and Schuster had agreed to an advance of $90,000.
A week or so later the writer saw Harvey at the golf course. Harvey seemed nervous and upset.After hemming and hawing a while, Harvey spit out what was bothering him. With all his medical bills and his limited income, Harvey just couldn’t see anyway he could come up with the 90 thousand to get the book published.
The writer stared at Harvey for a while and then burst out laughing. “Look Harvey, you don’t pay them, they pay YOU. You don’t give 90 thousand; you get 90 thousand.
Many of us are like Harvey Pinick. We think our relationship with God is about what we have to pay God, about what we can do to make God accept our work. But it’s really the other way around. God wants to give us the free gift of his Son, of his love. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.
We Lutherans are pretty good at saying the right words about this relationship, we learned them in Confirmation Class, we hear them over and over in good Lutheran Sermons, we do know how to say the words:
Justification by Grace through Faith,
Justification by Grace through Faith.
It’s our mantra, our slogan, our holy chant, our rallying cry.
But do we believe it? Not so much with our heads and with our words, but deep in our hearts and in our souls and in our emotions? Do we know that God has saved us because God loves us? Do we know that it’s about what God has given us; not what we have given God?
It seems to me that all too often we have higher entry level standards than God. It is the basic human condition that in every area of life that time after time we seek to prove that we are good enough or smart enough or faithful enough or diligent enough or beautiful enough or holy enough to deserve the love we receive from God.
And the reality is that none of us is any of those things enough to have even earned the love of our parents or our children or our partners of our friends; much less earning and deserving the love of the Creator of the Universe.
The most important thing that can happen in any relationship is that you figure out that the other person just loves you. You didn’t earn that, it just happened, it’s a mystery. Parents love their children, children love their parents, husbands and wives and boyfriends and girlfriends love each other just because they do.
The second most important thing that can happen in a relationship is that you figure out that love can die if it is abused or taken for granted. But, if love is embraced and nurtured, it will never die.
People do not earn each other’s love, they accept and receive and care for each other’s love and in that warm caring space, love grows stronger and more enduring.
The same is true of God’s love for us and our love for God. We do not earn God’s love. We do not merit God’s love.
We are not so lovely and good that God looks down upon the earth and says, “Oh look at that one! There’s a beautiful holy person, I’ll love her!” And none of us is so ugly and sinful that God says, “Look at that disgusting person, I’ll turn my back on him!”
God made all of us and God loves all of us. There is nothing we did to create that reality and there is nothing we can do to change it. God is love and God loves you and God loves me.
We did not create it and we cannot change it, but we can either live in God’s love or we can ignore it; we can choose to embrace God’s love or we can choose to abuse it by taking it for granted.
Our readings from Genesis and Romans refer to the story of the calling of Abram and Sarai; they were called to leave the land of their birth, Ur of the Chaldees and to go wherever God sends them.
The Bible says nothing about God seeing something special in these two people that made God pick them; God just did. We don’t know; Abram and Sarai may not have been God’s first choice. God may have been going around the Middle East calling people for years, but nobody else listened. Who knows; maybe Abram and Sarai were at the bottom of God’s list, not the top.
But, they were the ones who said yes to God’s call. They heard the promise of love and blessing and responded by placing their trust in God and following where they were led.
That’s what justification by grace through faith really means; hearing God’s call, feeling God’s love and embracing God’s grace and allowing our lives to be changed, altered by God’s very real presence in us.
I want to ask you something this morning. Have you allowed God to love you? Have you taken the time to sit quietly with your soul and look honestly at your life and then say to God, “This is me. This is who I am, this is what I’ve done and I know it’s not enough, but it is all I’ve got.”?
I’m not talking about the so-called sinner’s prayer, or “getting saved,” or any of that.
I’m talking about allowing God’s love to embrace you fully and completely.
I’m talking about putting aside any notions that you’re not good enough or complete enough or you don’t believe enough or do enough.
I’m talking about sitting still and looking at Jesus lifted up on the cross and realizing that the magnitude and completeness of God’s love for you is beyond belief or comprehension.
I’m talking about opening your heart to the love God has for you. Have you done it? Won’t you do it?
amen and amen.
Feb. 17, 2008
Texts: Genesis 12:1-4a, Romans 4:1-5, 13-17, John 3:1-17
Did you ever hear of a man named Harvey Pinick? A lot of golfers have. He wrote a best seller called Harvey Penick’s Little Red Book. There’s an interesting story about that.
Harvey Pinick was born in 1905. He started his golf career caddying at the Austin, Texas Country Club. He pretty much stayed there his whole life, moving up to golf pro and teacher.
In the 1920’s, Harvey bought a Red spiral notebook and began jotting down teaching notes, humorous stories and homespun philosophy derived from teaching and playing golf with all sorts of people. He never intended to show the book to anyone, he was going to give it to his son, someday.
In 1991, when he was 86 years old, Harvey showed the book to a writer he knew and ask him if it was worth publishing. The man took it, read it, and told him yes. The writer called Harvey’s house one day and talked to Harvey’s wife. He left a message that Simon and Schuster had agreed to an advance of $90,000.
A week or so later the writer saw Harvey at the golf course. Harvey seemed nervous and upset.After hemming and hawing a while, Harvey spit out what was bothering him. With all his medical bills and his limited income, Harvey just couldn’t see anyway he could come up with the 90 thousand to get the book published.
The writer stared at Harvey for a while and then burst out laughing. “Look Harvey, you don’t pay them, they pay YOU. You don’t give 90 thousand; you get 90 thousand.
Many of us are like Harvey Pinick. We think our relationship with God is about what we have to pay God, about what we can do to make God accept our work. But it’s really the other way around. God wants to give us the free gift of his Son, of his love. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.
We Lutherans are pretty good at saying the right words about this relationship, we learned them in Confirmation Class, we hear them over and over in good Lutheran Sermons, we do know how to say the words:
Justification by Grace through Faith,
Justification by Grace through Faith.
It’s our mantra, our slogan, our holy chant, our rallying cry.
But do we believe it? Not so much with our heads and with our words, but deep in our hearts and in our souls and in our emotions? Do we know that God has saved us because God loves us? Do we know that it’s about what God has given us; not what we have given God?
It seems to me that all too often we have higher entry level standards than God. It is the basic human condition that in every area of life that time after time we seek to prove that we are good enough or smart enough or faithful enough or diligent enough or beautiful enough or holy enough to deserve the love we receive from God.
And the reality is that none of us is any of those things enough to have even earned the love of our parents or our children or our partners of our friends; much less earning and deserving the love of the Creator of the Universe.
The most important thing that can happen in any relationship is that you figure out that the other person just loves you. You didn’t earn that, it just happened, it’s a mystery. Parents love their children, children love their parents, husbands and wives and boyfriends and girlfriends love each other just because they do.
The second most important thing that can happen in a relationship is that you figure out that love can die if it is abused or taken for granted. But, if love is embraced and nurtured, it will never die.
People do not earn each other’s love, they accept and receive and care for each other’s love and in that warm caring space, love grows stronger and more enduring.
The same is true of God’s love for us and our love for God. We do not earn God’s love. We do not merit God’s love.
We are not so lovely and good that God looks down upon the earth and says, “Oh look at that one! There’s a beautiful holy person, I’ll love her!” And none of us is so ugly and sinful that God says, “Look at that disgusting person, I’ll turn my back on him!”
God made all of us and God loves all of us. There is nothing we did to create that reality and there is nothing we can do to change it. God is love and God loves you and God loves me.
We did not create it and we cannot change it, but we can either live in God’s love or we can ignore it; we can choose to embrace God’s love or we can choose to abuse it by taking it for granted.
Our readings from Genesis and Romans refer to the story of the calling of Abram and Sarai; they were called to leave the land of their birth, Ur of the Chaldees and to go wherever God sends them.
The Bible says nothing about God seeing something special in these two people that made God pick them; God just did. We don’t know; Abram and Sarai may not have been God’s first choice. God may have been going around the Middle East calling people for years, but nobody else listened. Who knows; maybe Abram and Sarai were at the bottom of God’s list, not the top.
But, they were the ones who said yes to God’s call. They heard the promise of love and blessing and responded by placing their trust in God and following where they were led.
That’s what justification by grace through faith really means; hearing God’s call, feeling God’s love and embracing God’s grace and allowing our lives to be changed, altered by God’s very real presence in us.
I want to ask you something this morning. Have you allowed God to love you? Have you taken the time to sit quietly with your soul and look honestly at your life and then say to God, “This is me. This is who I am, this is what I’ve done and I know it’s not enough, but it is all I’ve got.”?
I’m not talking about the so-called sinner’s prayer, or “getting saved,” or any of that.
I’m talking about allowing God’s love to embrace you fully and completely.
I’m talking about putting aside any notions that you’re not good enough or complete enough or you don’t believe enough or do enough.
I’m talking about sitting still and looking at Jesus lifted up on the cross and realizing that the magnitude and completeness of God’s love for you is beyond belief or comprehension.
I’m talking about opening your heart to the love God has for you. Have you done it? Won’t you do it?
amen and amen.
Friday, February 08, 2008
First Sunday in Lent
FIRST SUNDAY IN LENT
February 10, 2008
Texts: Genesis 2:15-17; 3:17
Romans 5:12-19
Matthew 4:1-11
A few years ago, a young man I know found himself embroiled in a heated argument in a college biology class. Much to his surprise, everyone else in the class believed in what is called “young earth creationism;” that the earth is only 6000 years old, etc. He was arguing for what is called “intelligent design,” that God created the universe millions of years ago and is in control of the creative process, and that Genesis is a theological work, not a scientific textbook.
In the midst of the classroom discussion, with scientific and philosophical arguments being thrown up by both sides, one young woman stood up, pointed at the young man and said, indignantly, “If you believe that, how can you call yourself a Christian?” He smiled a little smile and said, “I don’t call myself a Christian. I’m a Lutheran.” His answer totally befuddled her.
“If you believe that, how can you call yourself a Christian?” “If you are the son of God . . .?” Questions of identity are important. Knowing “who you are,” as a person is the most important step in knowing how it is that you are to behave.
Several years ago someone gave me a tee-shirt that I absolutely loved. I wore it so much I wore it out. Just the other day, I was dusting the furniture and found its remnants in the rag box. It read:
“To do is to be” – PLATO
“To be is to do” – DESCARTES
“Dobedobedo” - SINATRA
What we do, how be behave, what we believe; is a large part of how others define us. Pastor, teacher, housewife, student, musician, funny, quiet, aggressive, talkative, etc.
And, how we define ourselves goes a long way toward defining how we behave. It is, at times, a chicken and the egg question. Which came first? Am I a Pastor because I do pastoral things; or do I do pastoral things because I am a Pastor?
The biblical position is that we act out of our identity; that who we believe ourselves to be is the determining factor in what we choose to do.
Have you ever noticed that when someone behaves in an outrageous, or improper or, most often, horribly RUDE manner, the first thing people say is: “Well, just who do you think you are?”
That is the right question. Who we think we are shapes our behavior.
And the Devil knows this. That is why he challenges Jesus on the point of identity in today’s Gospel lesson. The key to understanding the story of the temptations lies in THREE little words: IF YOU ARE.
In the last verse of Chapter Three, following Jesus’ baptism, a voice comes from heaven and says, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”
And here, three verses later, the devil says, “If you are the Son of God.”
Jesus is given the opportunity to make his own way as the Son of God;
He is given the opportunity to win popularity by turning stones into bread, feeding the masses and feeding his ego at the same time,
He is given the opportunity to achieve great fame by throwing himself off the temple and showing himself to be God’s Chosen One by letting the angels catch him.
He is given the opportunity to achieve great power by worshipping the devil and turning his back on trusting God to provide.
These temptations invite Jesus to imitate the Emperors in Rome who secured power by giving the people free food and free entertainment, winning their favor with bread and circuses.
The temptations with which Jesus was faced are the very ones we, you and I, fall victim to on a regular, I would almost say, a daily basis. In little subtle ways we seek popularity or power or possessions as a way of hedging our bets against the uncertainty of the world.
After all, we live in an age in which terrorists strap on bombs and blow up innocent people, stock markets plunge and housing prices fall, where wars rage and tornados strike and cars suddenly slide off the road into ditches.
A little control over our own lives and a bit of money securely invested, what’s wrong with that?
It comes down to a matter of faith, of trust, of belief and confidence in the promises of God to love and care for us through out all of life’s trials and temptations.
The problem is that each of the things the Devil wanted Jesus to do as the Son of God was selfish, and self-serving and ultimately self-glorifying. And Jesus rejected them because being centered on self is inconsistent with being the Christ, the Beloved, the Son of God, the one sent to save others.
It was during the forty days in the wilderness that Jesus struggled with what it meant to be the Son of God. When he became clear about that identity, he came out of the wilderness, and began to preach the Kingdom of God and to perform mighty acts of healing and exorcism. In the forty days in the wilderness, Jesus found out who he was and came forth ready to behave in accord with his identity.
When Jesus knew who he was, the question of what he was to do was already answered. To be the Christ, the Son of God, laid out for him a path to follow, a way of being in the world that led to certain things to do. Preaching. Healing. Confronting Evil.
Throughout these forty days of Lent we are called to contemplate the life of Jesus, his path of service and obedience to God, his living out his identity as the Son of God.
As we do that, we must ask ourselves some identity questions, personally and congregationally. Who am I? Who am I, really? And what is God calling me to do? Who are we? Who are we, really? And what is God calling us to do?
Not too long ago I turned on the TV to watch a ballgame and caught the tail end of a court-room drama. Two lawyers, one white, one black, were sitting in a book lined office, having a drink and discussing the just ended case. The Black lawyer said, “I used to think I was a lawyer who happened to be Black. Now I feel more like a Black man who happens to be a lawyer.” A question of identity that will shape his life and work.
Who am I? Am I a lawyer, or doctor, or policeman, or office manager, or teacher, or truck-driver or nurse, or retiree who happens to be a Christian?
Or am I a Christian; who happens to be a lawyer or doctor or policeman, etc.
It is an important question, and the answer will shape your life.
Likewise, as a congregation, as a community, we struggle with identity questions. Who are we, really? Are we a gathering of like-minded people, a little Lutheran enclave in Northeast Guilford County? If so, then the things we do should be designed to take care of ourselves.
Or are we a people whom God has called together to be the Body of Christ, as Luther says in the Small Catechism: Called, gathered, empowered and sent?
Called to be a Christian, gathered around Word and Sacrament, Empowered by the Holy Spirit, Sent into the world to spread the Love of God.
If that is who we are (and I believe it is) then the things we do will be designed to care for others.
Jesus spent forty days in the Wilderness struggling with the question of identity, struggling to discover what it meant to be the Son of God.
Throughout the forty days of Lent, we are called to do the same. We must ask ourselves, If we are the beloved children of God, what is God calling us to do?
Friedens Church; just WHO do you think you are?
Amen and amen.
February 10, 2008
Texts: Genesis 2:15-17; 3:17
Romans 5:12-19
Matthew 4:1-11
A few years ago, a young man I know found himself embroiled in a heated argument in a college biology class. Much to his surprise, everyone else in the class believed in what is called “young earth creationism;” that the earth is only 6000 years old, etc. He was arguing for what is called “intelligent design,” that God created the universe millions of years ago and is in control of the creative process, and that Genesis is a theological work, not a scientific textbook.
In the midst of the classroom discussion, with scientific and philosophical arguments being thrown up by both sides, one young woman stood up, pointed at the young man and said, indignantly, “If you believe that, how can you call yourself a Christian?” He smiled a little smile and said, “I don’t call myself a Christian. I’m a Lutheran.” His answer totally befuddled her.
“If you believe that, how can you call yourself a Christian?” “If you are the son of God . . .?” Questions of identity are important. Knowing “who you are,” as a person is the most important step in knowing how it is that you are to behave.
Several years ago someone gave me a tee-shirt that I absolutely loved. I wore it so much I wore it out. Just the other day, I was dusting the furniture and found its remnants in the rag box. It read:
“To do is to be” – PLATO
“To be is to do” – DESCARTES
“Dobedobedo” - SINATRA
What we do, how be behave, what we believe; is a large part of how others define us. Pastor, teacher, housewife, student, musician, funny, quiet, aggressive, talkative, etc.
And, how we define ourselves goes a long way toward defining how we behave. It is, at times, a chicken and the egg question. Which came first? Am I a Pastor because I do pastoral things; or do I do pastoral things because I am a Pastor?
The biblical position is that we act out of our identity; that who we believe ourselves to be is the determining factor in what we choose to do.
Have you ever noticed that when someone behaves in an outrageous, or improper or, most often, horribly RUDE manner, the first thing people say is: “Well, just who do you think you are?”
That is the right question. Who we think we are shapes our behavior.
And the Devil knows this. That is why he challenges Jesus on the point of identity in today’s Gospel lesson. The key to understanding the story of the temptations lies in THREE little words: IF YOU ARE.
In the last verse of Chapter Three, following Jesus’ baptism, a voice comes from heaven and says, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”
And here, three verses later, the devil says, “If you are the Son of God.”
Jesus is given the opportunity to make his own way as the Son of God;
He is given the opportunity to win popularity by turning stones into bread, feeding the masses and feeding his ego at the same time,
He is given the opportunity to achieve great fame by throwing himself off the temple and showing himself to be God’s Chosen One by letting the angels catch him.
He is given the opportunity to achieve great power by worshipping the devil and turning his back on trusting God to provide.
These temptations invite Jesus to imitate the Emperors in Rome who secured power by giving the people free food and free entertainment, winning their favor with bread and circuses.
The temptations with which Jesus was faced are the very ones we, you and I, fall victim to on a regular, I would almost say, a daily basis. In little subtle ways we seek popularity or power or possessions as a way of hedging our bets against the uncertainty of the world.
After all, we live in an age in which terrorists strap on bombs and blow up innocent people, stock markets plunge and housing prices fall, where wars rage and tornados strike and cars suddenly slide off the road into ditches.
A little control over our own lives and a bit of money securely invested, what’s wrong with that?
It comes down to a matter of faith, of trust, of belief and confidence in the promises of God to love and care for us through out all of life’s trials and temptations.
The problem is that each of the things the Devil wanted Jesus to do as the Son of God was selfish, and self-serving and ultimately self-glorifying. And Jesus rejected them because being centered on self is inconsistent with being the Christ, the Beloved, the Son of God, the one sent to save others.
It was during the forty days in the wilderness that Jesus struggled with what it meant to be the Son of God. When he became clear about that identity, he came out of the wilderness, and began to preach the Kingdom of God and to perform mighty acts of healing and exorcism. In the forty days in the wilderness, Jesus found out who he was and came forth ready to behave in accord with his identity.
When Jesus knew who he was, the question of what he was to do was already answered. To be the Christ, the Son of God, laid out for him a path to follow, a way of being in the world that led to certain things to do. Preaching. Healing. Confronting Evil.
Throughout these forty days of Lent we are called to contemplate the life of Jesus, his path of service and obedience to God, his living out his identity as the Son of God.
As we do that, we must ask ourselves some identity questions, personally and congregationally. Who am I? Who am I, really? And what is God calling me to do? Who are we? Who are we, really? And what is God calling us to do?
Not too long ago I turned on the TV to watch a ballgame and caught the tail end of a court-room drama. Two lawyers, one white, one black, were sitting in a book lined office, having a drink and discussing the just ended case. The Black lawyer said, “I used to think I was a lawyer who happened to be Black. Now I feel more like a Black man who happens to be a lawyer.” A question of identity that will shape his life and work.
Who am I? Am I a lawyer, or doctor, or policeman, or office manager, or teacher, or truck-driver or nurse, or retiree who happens to be a Christian?
Or am I a Christian; who happens to be a lawyer or doctor or policeman, etc.
It is an important question, and the answer will shape your life.
Likewise, as a congregation, as a community, we struggle with identity questions. Who are we, really? Are we a gathering of like-minded people, a little Lutheran enclave in Northeast Guilford County? If so, then the things we do should be designed to take care of ourselves.
Or are we a people whom God has called together to be the Body of Christ, as Luther says in the Small Catechism: Called, gathered, empowered and sent?
Called to be a Christian, gathered around Word and Sacrament, Empowered by the Holy Spirit, Sent into the world to spread the Love of God.
If that is who we are (and I believe it is) then the things we do will be designed to care for others.
Jesus spent forty days in the Wilderness struggling with the question of identity, struggling to discover what it meant to be the Son of God.
Throughout the forty days of Lent, we are called to do the same. We must ask ourselves, If we are the beloved children of God, what is God calling us to do?
Friedens Church; just WHO do you think you are?
Amen and amen.
Friday, February 01, 2008
Transfiguration SUNDAY: February 18, 2007
THE TRANSFIGURATION OF OUR LORD
Matthew 17:1-9
Peanuts Cartoon:
Linus and Charlie Brown are lying on their backs on the pitcher’s mound, staring up at the clouds in the sky.
Charlie Brown says, Linus, do you ever see anything in the clouds?”
Linus: Well, yes Charlie Brown, I do. For instance, that one over there bears a striking resemblance to Michelangelo’s depiction of the Creation on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.
And that one, there over the school, looks like a map of Scandinavia, see; there’s Denmark and Sweden.
And that one there looks like a helix. Do you ever see anything Charlie Brown?
Charlie Brown: Well, I was going to say a Ducky and a horsey but I changed my mind.
Every time I am confronted with a Biblical story like the
TRANSFIGURATION, I feel a bit like Charlie Brown;
compared to the religious experiences of others,
the things I have seen are simple and plain.
My personal religious experience contains no bright flashes or red-hot emotions,
no defining moments of transcending clarity or poetic,
mystical exuberance.
No, my religious experience tends toward the mundane and the ordinary: reading the Bible, family prayers, Church on Sunday, familiar hymns.
I have no frame of reference with which to begin to try to understand what happened to Jesus and his Disciples on top of that mountain.
The experience is completely and totally foreign to me.
And yet, there is something within it that tugs at my heart, that pulls at my soul, that preys on my mind.
There are two ways to approach a story like this: one is the rational, analytical, scientific approach.
The other is as a child, with eyes attuned to seeing mystery and magic.
Soren Kirkegaard told a parable about this:
Two young people, one a German girl, the other an English boy. They met on the coast of France, they conversed in high school French.
After returning to their respective homes, the girl wrote the boy a passionate letter; in German; which he did not know.
First, he laboriously translated it, using grammar books and dictionaries and lexicons.
But, he did not stop there. He then put aside the intellectual work and read the letter for what it was;
a love letter from a girl; a love letter aimed at his heart, not at his head.
So it is with the Bible, with Holy Scripture, with the written Word of God.
While we must not turn off our brains in looking at a story like this,
we cannot stop at the rational level, we must remember to read the Bible for what it is; a love letter aimed at the human heart.
Matthew wrote this story to touch our hearts, to let us know something important about the love of God for us.
Many of us here learned to read using the Dick and Jane books. You remember:
See Dick. See Dick go. Hear Jane. Hear Jane talk. Go Dick go. Go see Jane. etc.
One way of looking at, listening to, the story of the Transfiguration is through the eyes of a child, through the simple words of See – Hear - Go.
1) What did they see?
A) We must remember that this was a vision, a thing
SEEN! So the important question is not what actually
happened, what factually occurred.
The important question is what did the Disciples
Report that they saw; what was revealed to them.
B) So, again what did they see?
i) They saw light and clouds which are ancient
symbols of God’s presence; remember the
Exodus through the desert, God lead the
Children of Israel with a Cloud by Day and
a fire, a light, by night.
They saw God’s Presence and Guidance
ON Jesus.
ii) They saw Moses and Elijah.
In Jewish tradition: Moses = Law
Elijah = Prophets
In Jewish Tradition, both Moses and
Elijah were to return before the Messiah,
this signals Jesus as the Messiah.
They give Him their blessing and then
the disciples see Jesus’ alone:
this shows that Jesus completes,
fulfills, the Law and the Prophets.
2) What did they hear?
i) They heard divine speech silencing human speech
vs. 5 – while he was still speeaking
ii) they heard a command to listen to Jesus
vs. 5 – listen to him
iii) they heard from Jesus the Gospel words:
vs. 7 - get up and do NOT be afraid!
3) Through the eyes of Peter, James and John
we have seen the vision, we have heard the voices
How are we called to respond?
Where are we to go?
i) First we are called to the mountain:
Not to blinding lights and booming voices
But to time apart with Christ,
We are called to “Take Time to be Holy,”
as the old Gospel Hymn says,
We are called to look at Christ with awe
and hope and love, we are called to listen
to his commands to love one another with
body, mind and soul.
ii) second,
we are called off the mountain and into life.
Like Peter, we want to stay on a Spiritual High
but we can’t stay, we have to go back down
to where life is lived for real.
For it is down here, and out there, in our
homes and schools and jobs and communities
in the mundane, ordinary,
“so-called” real world
that real faith is lived out.
CONCLUSION:
When we lived in a suburb of Atlanta, our boys were small and Deborah was a stay at home Mom. Our home was on a cul-de-sac and we had lots of outdoor play space:
A porch all across the front, a basketball goal, a huge garage dedicated to toys, front yard baseball diamond.
We were the place to be for the 4-8 year old set.
One day, I was putting together a large wooden Jungle Gym we had ordered, Swing, slide, tree-house, climbing bars combination.
Of course the area kids were all hanging around watching, waiting for me to finish, anxiously asking, are you done yet.
I am not naturally gifted in construction. Though I can read and follow instructions, but it was a long process for me, and I messed up several times and was constantly confused and frustrated.
Many times during that long afternoon and evening I wanted to express my frustration verbally with some well-chosen Anglo-Saxon verbiage or to throw a few things about; but, my audience of children prevented me, as well it should have.
That afternoon reminded me that what I say and do in the midst of life’s dailiness is more important than what I say or do on the mountain-top of religious experience.
Don’t misunderstand me; this is not about not cussing, it’s about living your faith in the real world in which you live most of your life.
That is where we live our faith,
that is where we shine the light of Christ,
Because that is where that it is needed most,
And that is where God has sent us.
Amen and Amen.
Matthew 17:1-9
Peanuts Cartoon:
Linus and Charlie Brown are lying on their backs on the pitcher’s mound, staring up at the clouds in the sky.
Charlie Brown says, Linus, do you ever see anything in the clouds?”
Linus: Well, yes Charlie Brown, I do. For instance, that one over there bears a striking resemblance to Michelangelo’s depiction of the Creation on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.
And that one, there over the school, looks like a map of Scandinavia, see; there’s Denmark and Sweden.
And that one there looks like a helix. Do you ever see anything Charlie Brown?
Charlie Brown: Well, I was going to say a Ducky and a horsey but I changed my mind.
Every time I am confronted with a Biblical story like the
TRANSFIGURATION, I feel a bit like Charlie Brown;
compared to the religious experiences of others,
the things I have seen are simple and plain.
My personal religious experience contains no bright flashes or red-hot emotions,
no defining moments of transcending clarity or poetic,
mystical exuberance.
No, my religious experience tends toward the mundane and the ordinary: reading the Bible, family prayers, Church on Sunday, familiar hymns.
I have no frame of reference with which to begin to try to understand what happened to Jesus and his Disciples on top of that mountain.
The experience is completely and totally foreign to me.
And yet, there is something within it that tugs at my heart, that pulls at my soul, that preys on my mind.
There are two ways to approach a story like this: one is the rational, analytical, scientific approach.
The other is as a child, with eyes attuned to seeing mystery and magic.
Soren Kirkegaard told a parable about this:
Two young people, one a German girl, the other an English boy. They met on the coast of France, they conversed in high school French.
After returning to their respective homes, the girl wrote the boy a passionate letter; in German; which he did not know.
First, he laboriously translated it, using grammar books and dictionaries and lexicons.
But, he did not stop there. He then put aside the intellectual work and read the letter for what it was;
a love letter from a girl; a love letter aimed at his heart, not at his head.
So it is with the Bible, with Holy Scripture, with the written Word of God.
While we must not turn off our brains in looking at a story like this,
we cannot stop at the rational level, we must remember to read the Bible for what it is; a love letter aimed at the human heart.
Matthew wrote this story to touch our hearts, to let us know something important about the love of God for us.
Many of us here learned to read using the Dick and Jane books. You remember:
See Dick. See Dick go. Hear Jane. Hear Jane talk. Go Dick go. Go see Jane. etc.
One way of looking at, listening to, the story of the Transfiguration is through the eyes of a child, through the simple words of See – Hear - Go.
1) What did they see?
A) We must remember that this was a vision, a thing
SEEN! So the important question is not what actually
happened, what factually occurred.
The important question is what did the Disciples
Report that they saw; what was revealed to them.
B) So, again what did they see?
i) They saw light and clouds which are ancient
symbols of God’s presence; remember the
Exodus through the desert, God lead the
Children of Israel with a Cloud by Day and
a fire, a light, by night.
They saw God’s Presence and Guidance
ON Jesus.
ii) They saw Moses and Elijah.
In Jewish tradition: Moses = Law
Elijah = Prophets
In Jewish Tradition, both Moses and
Elijah were to return before the Messiah,
this signals Jesus as the Messiah.
They give Him their blessing and then
the disciples see Jesus’ alone:
this shows that Jesus completes,
fulfills, the Law and the Prophets.
2) What did they hear?
i) They heard divine speech silencing human speech
vs. 5 – while he was still speeaking
ii) they heard a command to listen to Jesus
vs. 5 – listen to him
iii) they heard from Jesus the Gospel words:
vs. 7 - get up and do NOT be afraid!
3) Through the eyes of Peter, James and John
we have seen the vision, we have heard the voices
How are we called to respond?
Where are we to go?
i) First we are called to the mountain:
Not to blinding lights and booming voices
But to time apart with Christ,
We are called to “Take Time to be Holy,”
as the old Gospel Hymn says,
We are called to look at Christ with awe
and hope and love, we are called to listen
to his commands to love one another with
body, mind and soul.
ii) second,
we are called off the mountain and into life.
Like Peter, we want to stay on a Spiritual High
but we can’t stay, we have to go back down
to where life is lived for real.
For it is down here, and out there, in our
homes and schools and jobs and communities
in the mundane, ordinary,
“so-called” real world
that real faith is lived out.
CONCLUSION:
When we lived in a suburb of Atlanta, our boys were small and Deborah was a stay at home Mom. Our home was on a cul-de-sac and we had lots of outdoor play space:
A porch all across the front, a basketball goal, a huge garage dedicated to toys, front yard baseball diamond.
We were the place to be for the 4-8 year old set.
One day, I was putting together a large wooden Jungle Gym we had ordered, Swing, slide, tree-house, climbing bars combination.
Of course the area kids were all hanging around watching, waiting for me to finish, anxiously asking, are you done yet.
I am not naturally gifted in construction. Though I can read and follow instructions, but it was a long process for me, and I messed up several times and was constantly confused and frustrated.
Many times during that long afternoon and evening I wanted to express my frustration verbally with some well-chosen Anglo-Saxon verbiage or to throw a few things about; but, my audience of children prevented me, as well it should have.
That afternoon reminded me that what I say and do in the midst of life’s dailiness is more important than what I say or do on the mountain-top of religious experience.
Don’t misunderstand me; this is not about not cussing, it’s about living your faith in the real world in which you live most of your life.
That is where we live our faith,
that is where we shine the light of Christ,
Because that is where that it is needed most,
And that is where God has sent us.
Amen and Amen.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Epiphany III,
Epiphany 3 January 27, 2008
Texts: Isaiah 9:1-4,
I Corinthians 1:10-18,
Matthew 4:12-23
Thurgood Marshall was the first African-American on the Supreme Court.
Here is a story he often included in his speeches around the country:
There were two sisters. They had lived with their parents and brothers and sisters in a dilapidated old house since their birth. Time went on, theirs brothers and sisters married and moved out, their parents died; the sisters remained.
Sometime in their mid-forties they had a big falling out; such a big falling out that they stopped speaking to each other. They were too stubborn for either one to leave the little house, so they continued living there together.
A chalk line divided the bed room into two halves. The chalk divided all the rooms in the house, so that the sisters could come and go and get her own meals without trespassing on her sister’s space. In the stillness of the night, each could hear the other breathing and snoring.
This went on for many, many years; then one night one sister got up to go to the bathroom and fell, breaking her hip. Her sister heard her scream and scooted across the chalk line to her side. She called for help, then sat in the floor and held her sister while waiting for the ambulance.
Sometime, in the midst of the darkness and the pain, the words I’M SORRY and I LOVE YOU were exchanged. In the midst of broken-ness, healing had taken place.
Justice Marshall always ended that story by saying: The legal system can force open doors, and even, sometimes, knock down walls, but it cannot build bridges. That job belongs to you and me. Bridge building. It’s a good name for the ministry of healing that is the church.
As we look at the world’s continued darkness; its wars and disease and ignorance and prejudice and violence, we can see that at the root of most of this is our disconnectedness; our alienation from God, from each other, and most of all form our true selves.
It is the lack of genuine, open, trusting, loving community in the world that causes most of our problems, or makes them worse.
The church is called to a simple ministry in the midst of the world’s darkness and disconnection; we are called to shine the light of God into the world and to pull the world’s disparate peoples into one community: the people of God.
This calling has never made much sense to the world. It looks like a quixotic quest, a nonsense proposition. The world operates by a different set of rules.
Perhaps it’s not exactly cut-throat, dog-eat-dog out there; but it certainly is look out for #1 and know who your friends are and you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours.
Ever since Jesus walked by the Sea of Galilee and called out Simon Peter and James and John, the Sons of Zebedee; those who were left behind have felt that those who went were foolish.
Even Jesus had family problems in this regard. Our Gospel lesson says he left the tiny village of Nazareth and moved, made his home, settled in the larger, more exciting town of Capernaum. It was kind of like moving from Gibsonville to Chapel Hill.
Over in Chapter 12 we read that his family back in Nazareth started hearing things about what Jesus was saying and doing up in “the cities” and “his Mama and them” went to take him home because they thought he had embarrassed the family enough.
As Paul puts it in our Second Lesson: “The message of the Cross is foolishness . . .”
It is interesting to note the Paul says this in a letter to a congregation that is in the midst of a huge church fight. Their fight in the Church in Corinth had to do with which Pastor they liked best.
I’m one of Paul’s people; I’m one of Cephas’ people, I’m one of Apollo’s people; and for the hyper self-righteous people, “H’mp, I belong to Christ.” Thank God, we never get that silly around here . . . do we?
And Paul’s remedy for all this infighting and fussing and back-biting was the foolishness of the cross, the ridiculousness of the Gospel story. He calls upon the Corinthians to remember the highly unlikely and paradoxical way that God chose to save the world.
This is also the highly unlikely and paradoxical way God calls upon us to behave in the world; as God’s ambassadors and healing-agents and bridge-builders between cultures and peoples.
That is the task which we have been given, that the exactly who we have been called to be. WE are called to respond to God’s act of building a bridge of love to us by turning and building bridges of love to others.
We are called to build bridges of forgiveness and vulnerability and risk-taking, bridges that are cobbled together with the little crosses of suffering we bear for one another each and every day.
Bridges laid down across the great chasms of division and distrust, fear and hatred that afflict and terrorize our world. Bridges that seek to bring all those who have lived in great darkness into the even greater light of God’s love.
Back in the 1980’s there was a man named Larry Trapp living in Lincoln, Nebraska. His name was doubly ironic; he was a man trapped in his own hatred and trapped in his own body. Larry Trapp was suffering from a fatal disease and was confined to a wheel chair; he was nearly blind, he was also the Grand Dragon of the Ku Klux Klan in Nebraska. He truly was a man trapped in darkness.
Larry Trapp became obsessed with driving Michael Weisser out of town. Weisser is Jewish; he is the cantor of the Lincoln Synagogue. Trapp barraged the Weisser home with hate mail, at home and on the job. He made incessant threatening phone calls, he organized demonstrations, He did everything he could to make life a living hell for Michael Weisser and his family.
Cantor Weisser and his family were truly intimidated and scared. He had a wife and children, he wanted to protect them. But Michael Weisser was also a man who was unwilling to let another person’s hate prevent him from showing love. So he started calling Larry Trapp’s home, always getting the answering machine. So, he always left a message. He said, “This is Michael Weisser. I’d like to talk to you. I want to know why you’re doing this to me.”
Finally, one day, Larry Trapp answered the phone, screaming and cursing and threatening, “WHAT DO YOU WANT? YOU’RE HARASSING ME!”
And Michael Weisser said, “I Know you have a hard time getting around and can’t drive, and I was wondering if you might need a ride to the grocery store or something?” After a very long stunned silence, Larry Trapp quietly replied, “Uh, no, I’ve got that covered, but thanks for asking.”
Larry and Michael kept talking by phone. After a while, Larry Trapp started going over to the Jewish Cantor’s house for dinner, they became friends, and when it became apparent he had no where else to go, the Weisser family invited Larry to move in with them. And he did, dying there in Michael’s arms a few months later.
Somewhere along the way Larry Trapp left the KKK. He spent his last time on earth spreading a message of love in a world of hate; Larry Trapp became an apostle to Klansmen and other hate groups; trying to get them to see the great light of love and forgiveness he had seen and experienced. (TIME Feb. 17, 1992)
We are called to a ministry healing, a ministry of building bridges of love and forgiveness between people, a ministry of shining the light of God’s love on all people. Are we ready to embrace this ministry? Are we prepared to let the light of Christ shine through us? Are we willing to reach out to the world with the foolishness of the cross?
Amen and amen.
Texts: Isaiah 9:1-4,
I Corinthians 1:10-18,
Matthew 4:12-23
Thurgood Marshall was the first African-American on the Supreme Court.
Here is a story he often included in his speeches around the country:
There were two sisters. They had lived with their parents and brothers and sisters in a dilapidated old house since their birth. Time went on, theirs brothers and sisters married and moved out, their parents died; the sisters remained.
Sometime in their mid-forties they had a big falling out; such a big falling out that they stopped speaking to each other. They were too stubborn for either one to leave the little house, so they continued living there together.
A chalk line divided the bed room into two halves. The chalk divided all the rooms in the house, so that the sisters could come and go and get her own meals without trespassing on her sister’s space. In the stillness of the night, each could hear the other breathing and snoring.
This went on for many, many years; then one night one sister got up to go to the bathroom and fell, breaking her hip. Her sister heard her scream and scooted across the chalk line to her side. She called for help, then sat in the floor and held her sister while waiting for the ambulance.
Sometime, in the midst of the darkness and the pain, the words I’M SORRY and I LOVE YOU were exchanged. In the midst of broken-ness, healing had taken place.
Justice Marshall always ended that story by saying: The legal system can force open doors, and even, sometimes, knock down walls, but it cannot build bridges. That job belongs to you and me. Bridge building. It’s a good name for the ministry of healing that is the church.
As we look at the world’s continued darkness; its wars and disease and ignorance and prejudice and violence, we can see that at the root of most of this is our disconnectedness; our alienation from God, from each other, and most of all form our true selves.
It is the lack of genuine, open, trusting, loving community in the world that causes most of our problems, or makes them worse.
The church is called to a simple ministry in the midst of the world’s darkness and disconnection; we are called to shine the light of God into the world and to pull the world’s disparate peoples into one community: the people of God.
This calling has never made much sense to the world. It looks like a quixotic quest, a nonsense proposition. The world operates by a different set of rules.
Perhaps it’s not exactly cut-throat, dog-eat-dog out there; but it certainly is look out for #1 and know who your friends are and you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours.
Ever since Jesus walked by the Sea of Galilee and called out Simon Peter and James and John, the Sons of Zebedee; those who were left behind have felt that those who went were foolish.
Even Jesus had family problems in this regard. Our Gospel lesson says he left the tiny village of Nazareth and moved, made his home, settled in the larger, more exciting town of Capernaum. It was kind of like moving from Gibsonville to Chapel Hill.
Over in Chapter 12 we read that his family back in Nazareth started hearing things about what Jesus was saying and doing up in “the cities” and “his Mama and them” went to take him home because they thought he had embarrassed the family enough.
As Paul puts it in our Second Lesson: “The message of the Cross is foolishness . . .”
It is interesting to note the Paul says this in a letter to a congregation that is in the midst of a huge church fight. Their fight in the Church in Corinth had to do with which Pastor they liked best.
I’m one of Paul’s people; I’m one of Cephas’ people, I’m one of Apollo’s people; and for the hyper self-righteous people, “H’mp, I belong to Christ.” Thank God, we never get that silly around here . . . do we?
And Paul’s remedy for all this infighting and fussing and back-biting was the foolishness of the cross, the ridiculousness of the Gospel story. He calls upon the Corinthians to remember the highly unlikely and paradoxical way that God chose to save the world.
This is also the highly unlikely and paradoxical way God calls upon us to behave in the world; as God’s ambassadors and healing-agents and bridge-builders between cultures and peoples.
That is the task which we have been given, that the exactly who we have been called to be. WE are called to respond to God’s act of building a bridge of love to us by turning and building bridges of love to others.
We are called to build bridges of forgiveness and vulnerability and risk-taking, bridges that are cobbled together with the little crosses of suffering we bear for one another each and every day.
Bridges laid down across the great chasms of division and distrust, fear and hatred that afflict and terrorize our world. Bridges that seek to bring all those who have lived in great darkness into the even greater light of God’s love.
Back in the 1980’s there was a man named Larry Trapp living in Lincoln, Nebraska. His name was doubly ironic; he was a man trapped in his own hatred and trapped in his own body. Larry Trapp was suffering from a fatal disease and was confined to a wheel chair; he was nearly blind, he was also the Grand Dragon of the Ku Klux Klan in Nebraska. He truly was a man trapped in darkness.
Larry Trapp became obsessed with driving Michael Weisser out of town. Weisser is Jewish; he is the cantor of the Lincoln Synagogue. Trapp barraged the Weisser home with hate mail, at home and on the job. He made incessant threatening phone calls, he organized demonstrations, He did everything he could to make life a living hell for Michael Weisser and his family.
Cantor Weisser and his family were truly intimidated and scared. He had a wife and children, he wanted to protect them. But Michael Weisser was also a man who was unwilling to let another person’s hate prevent him from showing love. So he started calling Larry Trapp’s home, always getting the answering machine. So, he always left a message. He said, “This is Michael Weisser. I’d like to talk to you. I want to know why you’re doing this to me.”
Finally, one day, Larry Trapp answered the phone, screaming and cursing and threatening, “WHAT DO YOU WANT? YOU’RE HARASSING ME!”
And Michael Weisser said, “I Know you have a hard time getting around and can’t drive, and I was wondering if you might need a ride to the grocery store or something?” After a very long stunned silence, Larry Trapp quietly replied, “Uh, no, I’ve got that covered, but thanks for asking.”
Larry and Michael kept talking by phone. After a while, Larry Trapp started going over to the Jewish Cantor’s house for dinner, they became friends, and when it became apparent he had no where else to go, the Weisser family invited Larry to move in with them. And he did, dying there in Michael’s arms a few months later.
Somewhere along the way Larry Trapp left the KKK. He spent his last time on earth spreading a message of love in a world of hate; Larry Trapp became an apostle to Klansmen and other hate groups; trying to get them to see the great light of love and forgiveness he had seen and experienced. (TIME Feb. 17, 1992)
We are called to a ministry healing, a ministry of building bridges of love and forgiveness between people, a ministry of shining the light of God’s love on all people. Are we ready to embrace this ministry? Are we prepared to let the light of Christ shine through us? Are we willing to reach out to the world with the foolishness of the cross?
Amen and amen.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Epiphany 2,
EPIPHANY 2 January 20, 2008
Isaiah 49:1-7, John 1:29-42
Her name was Mrs. Gammons. I don’t remember her first name, but I do remember her:
she was my Sunday School teacher.
Mrs. Gammons was a shy, quiet, reserved woman. With her graying hair done up in a stiff, 60’s updo, and wearing a simple gray or blue dress, she looked a lot like Aunt Bea from The Andy Griffith Show.
I don’t believe I ever heard her say more than two or three words outside her Sunday School class. She taught the “Intermediate Boys,” which, in our little mountain church,
was a fancy name for a class of all males from the time they learned to read until they went to High School, roughly 6 to 12.
Our tiny classroom was in the damp church basement with two old wooden pews
and a broken table. There were heating pipes running just barely over our heads and water would occasionally seep in and puddle in the floor.
Mrs. Gammons suffered patiently the indignities heaped upon her by a rather uninterested
and unruly gang of farm boys. We hid stray cats and dogs under her desk and threw tiny spit-balls into her hair when had her back turned to write on the board.
And, miracle of miracles, week after week, she came back to try again.
She had no particular talent for the job,
she had never read a book on Christian Education
she had never been to a teacher’s workshop.
She just came in each week and took the roll,
Putting a Gold Star beside our name for:
Attendance,
Bible brought,
Offering given,
and Memory Verse learned.
After the paperwork was completed, the lesson began. First we read the scripture out of our personal brought from home Bibles. (Baptists take their own Bibles to church. The first time I went to a Lutheran Church, Holy Trinity in Chapel Hill when I was in college, I took my Black Bible with my name in Gold on the front. The usher took one look at me and said, “You’re not Lutheran, are you?”)
We read the scripture, then paragraph by paragraph we would take turns reading the lesson outloud. Mrs. Gammons would help us with the hard words and at the end of each paragraph she would sum up the meaning and ask us if we had any questions. We never did.
This went on for 45 minutes or so, and then we were done, mercifully for us, and I imagine for her. But sometimes we finished early, before the bell, and she would just stare at us with the look of someone who wished to be someplace, any place, else.
She would look up at the ceiling, as if by wishing she could make the bell ring, then she would look at us, and sigh, and THEN:
She would sigh again, and begin haltingly, in her gentle soft voice; to tell us about Jesus.
She told us about how much he meant in her life, about what a loving, kind, gentle and comforting presence He had been for her in times of hurt and sorrow.
She talked about how Jesus challenges us, dares us, leads us and helps us to be better people; better in how we treat others, and better in how we treat ourselves.
This was during the 60’s and while many others in our community were saying extremely hateful and racist things, she told us that Jesus loved black people as much as he loved us and that we ought to love black people to and treat them right.
She said that Jesus lived forgiveness and taught forgiveness and that since Jesus had forgiven our mistakes and sins, that we ought to forgive the mistakes and sins of others.
And somehow, not really knowing how or when it happened, when my time in Mrs. Gammons class was over, I discovered that I was in love with Jesus, a love that has never left me in the 40 years since.
In seminary I learned a lot of things I never learned in Sunday School, but I never had to unlearn anything I learned from her. It’s all true.
Mrs. Gammons was my JOHN THE BAPTIST!
She was the one who pointed at Jesus and said,
“Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the Sin of the world!”
Mrs. Gammons was my Andrew, bringing me to Jesus and saying, “He’s the One!”
Mrs. Gammons was the one who brought me to Christ!
All of us are called to be witnesses. Very often we make it more difficult than it really it is, this witnessing business.
It’s mostly a matter of pointing at Jesus and saying, “He’s the One!” We do not need any special knowledge or special training to do that.
My Daddy had a well-known penchant for silly jokes. Why did the Chicken cross the road? Type jokes. Here’s one of his better ones:
A traveling salesman pulls into a small town and asks a little boy; DO YOU KNOW WHERE JOHNSON’S FEED AND SEED IS?
Nope!
DO YOU KNOW WHERE THE FARMERS COOPERATIVE EXCHANGE IS?
Nope.
DO YOU KNOW WHERE WILSON’S GENERAL STORE IS?
Nope.
BOY, YOU DON’T KNOW MUCH DO YOU?
Little boy: “Well, I know one thing you don’t know. I know I ain’t lost!”
Above and beyond everything else the church is called to know one thing and to do one thing.
We are called to know and love God in Christ, and we are called to bring others into that circle of love.
That is our purpose for being, it is the reason for our existence, it is the end to which we work, it is our mission, it is our ministry, it is our calling.
Like the Israelites in our lesson from Isaiah, we are beckoned by God to be a LIGHT to the nations.
It is too light, too small, to tiny, a thing that we should just talk about Christ and our faith among ourselves, we must share Christ with the World.
It is our calling to be like John, pointing to Christ as the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.
It is our calling to be like Saint Andrew, bringing our friends to meet Jesus.
It is our calling to be like Mrs. Gammons, telling others about our love for Jesus.
AMEN AND AMEN
Isaiah 49:1-7, John 1:29-42
Her name was Mrs. Gammons. I don’t remember her first name, but I do remember her:
she was my Sunday School teacher.
Mrs. Gammons was a shy, quiet, reserved woman. With her graying hair done up in a stiff, 60’s updo, and wearing a simple gray or blue dress, she looked a lot like Aunt Bea from The Andy Griffith Show.
I don’t believe I ever heard her say more than two or three words outside her Sunday School class. She taught the “Intermediate Boys,” which, in our little mountain church,
was a fancy name for a class of all males from the time they learned to read until they went to High School, roughly 6 to 12.
Our tiny classroom was in the damp church basement with two old wooden pews
and a broken table. There were heating pipes running just barely over our heads and water would occasionally seep in and puddle in the floor.
Mrs. Gammons suffered patiently the indignities heaped upon her by a rather uninterested
and unruly gang of farm boys. We hid stray cats and dogs under her desk and threw tiny spit-balls into her hair when had her back turned to write on the board.
And, miracle of miracles, week after week, she came back to try again.
She had no particular talent for the job,
she had never read a book on Christian Education
she had never been to a teacher’s workshop.
She just came in each week and took the roll,
Putting a Gold Star beside our name for:
Attendance,
Bible brought,
Offering given,
and Memory Verse learned.
After the paperwork was completed, the lesson began. First we read the scripture out of our personal brought from home Bibles. (Baptists take their own Bibles to church. The first time I went to a Lutheran Church, Holy Trinity in Chapel Hill when I was in college, I took my Black Bible with my name in Gold on the front. The usher took one look at me and said, “You’re not Lutheran, are you?”)
We read the scripture, then paragraph by paragraph we would take turns reading the lesson outloud. Mrs. Gammons would help us with the hard words and at the end of each paragraph she would sum up the meaning and ask us if we had any questions. We never did.
This went on for 45 minutes or so, and then we were done, mercifully for us, and I imagine for her. But sometimes we finished early, before the bell, and she would just stare at us with the look of someone who wished to be someplace, any place, else.
She would look up at the ceiling, as if by wishing she could make the bell ring, then she would look at us, and sigh, and THEN:
She would sigh again, and begin haltingly, in her gentle soft voice; to tell us about Jesus.
She told us about how much he meant in her life, about what a loving, kind, gentle and comforting presence He had been for her in times of hurt and sorrow.
She talked about how Jesus challenges us, dares us, leads us and helps us to be better people; better in how we treat others, and better in how we treat ourselves.
This was during the 60’s and while many others in our community were saying extremely hateful and racist things, she told us that Jesus loved black people as much as he loved us and that we ought to love black people to and treat them right.
She said that Jesus lived forgiveness and taught forgiveness and that since Jesus had forgiven our mistakes and sins, that we ought to forgive the mistakes and sins of others.
And somehow, not really knowing how or when it happened, when my time in Mrs. Gammons class was over, I discovered that I was in love with Jesus, a love that has never left me in the 40 years since.
In seminary I learned a lot of things I never learned in Sunday School, but I never had to unlearn anything I learned from her. It’s all true.
Mrs. Gammons was my JOHN THE BAPTIST!
She was the one who pointed at Jesus and said,
“Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the Sin of the world!”
Mrs. Gammons was my Andrew, bringing me to Jesus and saying, “He’s the One!”
Mrs. Gammons was the one who brought me to Christ!
All of us are called to be witnesses. Very often we make it more difficult than it really it is, this witnessing business.
It’s mostly a matter of pointing at Jesus and saying, “He’s the One!” We do not need any special knowledge or special training to do that.
My Daddy had a well-known penchant for silly jokes. Why did the Chicken cross the road? Type jokes. Here’s one of his better ones:
A traveling salesman pulls into a small town and asks a little boy; DO YOU KNOW WHERE JOHNSON’S FEED AND SEED IS?
Nope!
DO YOU KNOW WHERE THE FARMERS COOPERATIVE EXCHANGE IS?
Nope.
DO YOU KNOW WHERE WILSON’S GENERAL STORE IS?
Nope.
BOY, YOU DON’T KNOW MUCH DO YOU?
Little boy: “Well, I know one thing you don’t know. I know I ain’t lost!”
Above and beyond everything else the church is called to know one thing and to do one thing.
We are called to know and love God in Christ, and we are called to bring others into that circle of love.
That is our purpose for being, it is the reason for our existence, it is the end to which we work, it is our mission, it is our ministry, it is our calling.
Like the Israelites in our lesson from Isaiah, we are beckoned by God to be a LIGHT to the nations.
It is too light, too small, to tiny, a thing that we should just talk about Christ and our faith among ourselves, we must share Christ with the World.
It is our calling to be like John, pointing to Christ as the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.
It is our calling to be like Saint Andrew, bringing our friends to meet Jesus.
It is our calling to be like Mrs. Gammons, telling others about our love for Jesus.
AMEN AND AMEN
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
The Baptism of Our Lord, January 13, 2008
The Baptism of Our Lord January 13, 2008
Text: Matthew 3:13-17
Title: On the Baptism of Jesus
I have lost count of the baptisms I have done. Most of them have been; well, ordinary’s not the word I’m looking for. No Baptism is ordinary, at least not to the one being baptized or to his or her loved ones. But, most of the Baptisms I have done have been regular. That’s it, regular. In the church, on Sunday morning, with vestments and sponsors and pictures, etc. etc. After thirty years of baptisms, I sort of remember most of them, but I couldn’t make a list or call up all the names.
A few years ago I went to preach Homecoming at a Church in NC I pastored years ago. After the worship service, I reconnected with the family of a man I’ll call Jimmy. One Sunday years ago, Jimmy’s Grandmother came to see me in my office. She said,
“Pastor, I have a grandson named Jimmy. You’ve never met him. He’s 32. He ran away from home at 13. He’s led a bad life. He’s come to stay with me now. He’s dying. He has a brain tumor and there’s nothing they can do. He wanted to know if you would come and talk to him.” I said of course. She said, there’s not much time. I said I would come after lunch, and so I did. She took me into the living room, introduced me to Jimmy and left us alone.
He looked like an emaciated Hell’s Angel; jeans, black tee-shirt, leather jacket, dirty ball cap perched on his chemo-bald head. A little boy trying to act tough, I thought.
He wanted to “get right with God” before he died, he said. He was pulling in every spiritual tradition he could think of. He wanted to make confession and get absolution like a Catholic; get saved and baptized by immersion like a Baptist, and get the Holy Spirit like a Pentecostal. I told him I would do the best I could; the Confession/Absolution and the Baptism I was sure I could do, the Spirit thing was up to God. I guess when you’re staring death in the face, you don’t want to leave any salvific stone unturned.
He started talking and talked for a couple of hours. Remember, he had run way to join the circus at 13, he had spent almost 20 years in carnivals and county fairs and amusement parks. Of the Ten Commandments, there was only one he had not broken, and frankly, that was not from lack of trying. His story was hard for me to hear;
I never worked so hard at listening in my life.
His sins were real, not imagined; his guilt was deserved, not imposed. There was nothing exciting or interesting or titillating about his sins; they were the ordinary products of lust and desire and a real disregard for the welfare or rights of others. Here was the real character; A SINNER!
And it was not humanly easy for me to pronounce forgiveness on his wasted life. He had no time for a true amendment of his life, no time to make restitution or do penance, no time for me to see if his change of heart was genuine. There was no point in corrective therapy, no time for behavior adjustment plans, no purpose to be served in berating him.
There was only time for the working of the Gospel: for Repentance and Forgiveness, for Baptism and Grace, for Death and the Promise of New Life.
So, I stifled my impulse toward either judgment or comfort and followed the ritual in the Lutheran Book of Worship for Individual Confession and Forgiveness. I heard his confession, I decided it was genuine, I pronounced forgiveness.
And we set a time and place for his baptism: the next day at 1:00 PM; in his uncle’s above ground swimming pool.
When I drove up the next day, the “community of faith” had already gathered. Jimmy’s relatives were standing on one side of the pool: stout, plain, sturdy, good country church-going people. Jimmy’s friends were on the other side: loud, brassy, somewhat sleazy bikers and carnies of questionable taste and character. They had all come together to to see Jimmy get baptized.
I went into the water first, Jimmy followed. I said, “I baptize you in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit,” and dunked him under the water. He came us sputtering and cussing and said That water’s cold. And, on impulse, I said, oops, looks like that one didn’t take” and dunked him again, much to the delight of all around.
The second time he came up, he grinned and held his tongue, hugged me, and then pulled me under. It was a good baptism.
Today we celebrate the Baptism of Our Lord. People often ask, Why did Jesus need to be baptized? John preached a baptism for Repentance, Jesus was sinless, what did he have to repent of? He wasn’t like Jimmy, in need of being washed clean of his sins. It is a good question.
Some people answer it by talking about the other things Baptism is and does: It was Jesus’ ordination to ministry. It was his anointing as the Saviour. It was the bestowal of the Holy Spirit. Yes, it was all those things, but it seems to me that those answers avoid the question rather than answer it.
John’s Baptism WAS a baptism of repentance and our text shows that John was the first to ask the obvious question. Verse 14: “Do you come to me (for Baptism?)” In verse 15 Jesus gives his answer: it is necessary for me “to fulfill all righteousness.” To fulfill all righteousness means “to do all things necessary to fulfill my calling from God.”
Jesus was called and sent of God to be the Messiah, the Christ, the Anointed One, the Saviour of the World.To do that, Jesus had to “take on the sins of the world.” When Jesus stepped into the river Jordan to be baptized by John, he began the process of taking on the sins of the world, a process that was completed on the cross. As the Nicene Creed says, he came down from heaven “For us and for our salvation.” The beginning and end of Jesus’ ministry was the taking on of the sins of the world, in his baptism and on the cross.
When Jesus was baptized, he stepped into the water covered with sin, the sins of the world, my sins, your sins,Jimmy’s sins.
Please turn to page 280 in the Red book, the ELW. Top of the page, upper left hand corner. It’s the Funeral Service. Notice it says there “Thanksgiving for Baptism.” Pray with me:
When we were baptized in Christ Jesus, we were baptized into his death. We were buried with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father; we too might live a new life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.
In Christ’s Baptism he was baptized into our sins, just as we were baptized into his death. And as he was raised from the grave, we too have been released from sin and death. That day in the swimming pool, Jesus took on the many, many sins of Jimmy; and at the same time, Jimmy took on new life in Christ.
I believe this is most certainly true. So much so, that two weeks later at Jimmy’s funeral, I was confident in proclaiming his presence with Christ in Paradise. For, if Jimmy’s not there, then the Gospel’s not true, and none of us has any hope.
The Gospel is that our sins have been forgiven. our death has been overcome, our hope has been restored,our future has been promised.
Thanks be to God, Amen.
Text: Matthew 3:13-17
Title: On the Baptism of Jesus
I have lost count of the baptisms I have done. Most of them have been; well, ordinary’s not the word I’m looking for. No Baptism is ordinary, at least not to the one being baptized or to his or her loved ones. But, most of the Baptisms I have done have been regular. That’s it, regular. In the church, on Sunday morning, with vestments and sponsors and pictures, etc. etc. After thirty years of baptisms, I sort of remember most of them, but I couldn’t make a list or call up all the names.
A few years ago I went to preach Homecoming at a Church in NC I pastored years ago. After the worship service, I reconnected with the family of a man I’ll call Jimmy. One Sunday years ago, Jimmy’s Grandmother came to see me in my office. She said,
“Pastor, I have a grandson named Jimmy. You’ve never met him. He’s 32. He ran away from home at 13. He’s led a bad life. He’s come to stay with me now. He’s dying. He has a brain tumor and there’s nothing they can do. He wanted to know if you would come and talk to him.” I said of course. She said, there’s not much time. I said I would come after lunch, and so I did. She took me into the living room, introduced me to Jimmy and left us alone.
He looked like an emaciated Hell’s Angel; jeans, black tee-shirt, leather jacket, dirty ball cap perched on his chemo-bald head. A little boy trying to act tough, I thought.
He wanted to “get right with God” before he died, he said. He was pulling in every spiritual tradition he could think of. He wanted to make confession and get absolution like a Catholic; get saved and baptized by immersion like a Baptist, and get the Holy Spirit like a Pentecostal. I told him I would do the best I could; the Confession/Absolution and the Baptism I was sure I could do, the Spirit thing was up to God. I guess when you’re staring death in the face, you don’t want to leave any salvific stone unturned.
He started talking and talked for a couple of hours. Remember, he had run way to join the circus at 13, he had spent almost 20 years in carnivals and county fairs and amusement parks. Of the Ten Commandments, there was only one he had not broken, and frankly, that was not from lack of trying. His story was hard for me to hear;
I never worked so hard at listening in my life.
His sins were real, not imagined; his guilt was deserved, not imposed. There was nothing exciting or interesting or titillating about his sins; they were the ordinary products of lust and desire and a real disregard for the welfare or rights of others. Here was the real character; A SINNER!
And it was not humanly easy for me to pronounce forgiveness on his wasted life. He had no time for a true amendment of his life, no time to make restitution or do penance, no time for me to see if his change of heart was genuine. There was no point in corrective therapy, no time for behavior adjustment plans, no purpose to be served in berating him.
There was only time for the working of the Gospel: for Repentance and Forgiveness, for Baptism and Grace, for Death and the Promise of New Life.
So, I stifled my impulse toward either judgment or comfort and followed the ritual in the Lutheran Book of Worship for Individual Confession and Forgiveness. I heard his confession, I decided it was genuine, I pronounced forgiveness.
And we set a time and place for his baptism: the next day at 1:00 PM; in his uncle’s above ground swimming pool.
When I drove up the next day, the “community of faith” had already gathered. Jimmy’s relatives were standing on one side of the pool: stout, plain, sturdy, good country church-going people. Jimmy’s friends were on the other side: loud, brassy, somewhat sleazy bikers and carnies of questionable taste and character. They had all come together to to see Jimmy get baptized.
I went into the water first, Jimmy followed. I said, “I baptize you in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit,” and dunked him under the water. He came us sputtering and cussing and said That water’s cold. And, on impulse, I said, oops, looks like that one didn’t take” and dunked him again, much to the delight of all around.
The second time he came up, he grinned and held his tongue, hugged me, and then pulled me under. It was a good baptism.
Today we celebrate the Baptism of Our Lord. People often ask, Why did Jesus need to be baptized? John preached a baptism for Repentance, Jesus was sinless, what did he have to repent of? He wasn’t like Jimmy, in need of being washed clean of his sins. It is a good question.
Some people answer it by talking about the other things Baptism is and does: It was Jesus’ ordination to ministry. It was his anointing as the Saviour. It was the bestowal of the Holy Spirit. Yes, it was all those things, but it seems to me that those answers avoid the question rather than answer it.
John’s Baptism WAS a baptism of repentance and our text shows that John was the first to ask the obvious question. Verse 14: “Do you come to me (for Baptism?)” In verse 15 Jesus gives his answer: it is necessary for me “to fulfill all righteousness.” To fulfill all righteousness means “to do all things necessary to fulfill my calling from God.”
Jesus was called and sent of God to be the Messiah, the Christ, the Anointed One, the Saviour of the World.To do that, Jesus had to “take on the sins of the world.” When Jesus stepped into the river Jordan to be baptized by John, he began the process of taking on the sins of the world, a process that was completed on the cross. As the Nicene Creed says, he came down from heaven “For us and for our salvation.” The beginning and end of Jesus’ ministry was the taking on of the sins of the world, in his baptism and on the cross.
When Jesus was baptized, he stepped into the water covered with sin, the sins of the world, my sins, your sins,Jimmy’s sins.
Please turn to page 280 in the Red book, the ELW. Top of the page, upper left hand corner. It’s the Funeral Service. Notice it says there “Thanksgiving for Baptism.” Pray with me:
When we were baptized in Christ Jesus, we were baptized into his death. We were buried with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father; we too might live a new life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.
In Christ’s Baptism he was baptized into our sins, just as we were baptized into his death. And as he was raised from the grave, we too have been released from sin and death. That day in the swimming pool, Jesus took on the many, many sins of Jimmy; and at the same time, Jimmy took on new life in Christ.
I believe this is most certainly true. So much so, that two weeks later at Jimmy’s funeral, I was confident in proclaiming his presence with Christ in Paradise. For, if Jimmy’s not there, then the Gospel’s not true, and none of us has any hope.
The Gospel is that our sins have been forgiven. our death has been overcome, our hope has been restored,our future has been promised.
Thanks be to God, Amen.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Christmas Eve Sermon
Christmas Eve, 2007
“The Cross and Christmas”
A couple of weeks ago, on a Thursday afternoon, I went down to Twin Lakes retirement center to hear the Choir sing. There are quite a number of Friedens’ members who sing in that choir, and I couldn’t help but notice that most of them were in the front row. Does the Director put you there so that she can keep an eye on you?
It was a good show. They did well. Some of the staff participated and they did a great job also.They did a very hilarious version of “I ain’t getting nuttin’ for Christmas.” Do you know the song? A little boy sings about all the mischief he’s been in, and then the chorus goes:“I ain’t getting nuttin’ for Christmas, ‘cuz I ain’t been nuttin’ but bad”
After I finished laughing, I started thinking and realized that while that line sums up a lot of our thinking about how God works, it’s just not true. Indeed, it is the exact opposite of the Gospel truth of this night; it is because we “ain’t been nuttin’ but bad” that we have received the one gift we needed, which is Jesus Christ Our Lord.
Not just or primarily us as individuals, but us as the human race, us as humanity, As the Bible says, God so love the World, the Cosmos, that he sent his only beloved Son.
It’s not so much that we are individually evil, it’s that the world is in a mess, and needs to find its way out. The first Christmas came at a time of political and social unrest. Israel was once again a conquered country, living under the domination of the Romans, ruled by King Herod, a cruel, cruel man.
When Christ came, there was hunger and social injustice and war raged upon innocents, all in the name of such things as Truth and Justice and National Security. Then as now, the old values had become skewed and obscured and unrecognizable, and no one knew whom they could trust.
And into such a world God sent his Son.
The message then and the message now is that we are not alone in the midst of the world’s evil, Though we, collectively, ain’t been nuttin’ but Bad, we’re still getin’ something for Christmas.
God has come to us in the midst of our distress. In the middle of our loneliness and despair, God has sent us a sign of his love. Into a world filled with hopelessness, God comes to us in the hopeful form of new life and new birth.
Back in the 1960’s, a Methodist Minister I know graduated from the Seminary at Drew University in New Jersey and was sent to his first church, near a little farm town down east of Raleigh, NC.
In July, he had his first funeral. In seminary they told him that they should sing whatever the family requested, and so he asked the widow what song she wanted, she said, “He liked Silver Bells. He always said he wanted Silver Bells sung at his funeral.” So my friend swallowed hard and said we can do that.
So it was that on a blistering hot day in July, in a little country Church without Air Conditioning, the choir stood up at a funeral and sang, Silver Bells, Ding a Ling, it’s Christmas time in the city.
My friend said he would never forget the confused look on the faces of the congregation as the choir sang verse after verse of Silver Bells at a funeral. As the minister led the procession across the street into the cemetery, the widow caught up with him and whispered, You know Pastor, I was wrong. It wasn’t Silver Bells he wanted. It was “When they ring those Golden Bells for you and me.”
Christ came to be a beacon of light in a dark world, Christ came to show us love in the midst of hatred and strife. Christ came to bring life in the midst of death. Which is why it is not such a bad idea to sing Christmas songs at funerals.
It is a reminder to us that Christ did not come to be cute, Christ came to die. Just as the Cross looms over our Altar, the cross hovers over the manger of the Christ Child.
Christ did not come so that we can have parties and give gifts.
Christ did not come, to reward us for being good, but to save us from being bad.
Christ came to show us the love and care of God in the midst of a deadly and dangerous world.
Christ came to show us how to live and how to die.
Christ came to die upon the cross for us, to save us from sin, death and the devil.
Realizing that, we are ready to celebrate with somber joy and reverent jubilation:
Silver Bells, Ring-a-ling, it’s Christmas time in the city.
I’m getting’ sumethin’ for Christmas, even though I been nuttin’ but bad.
For unto us a child is born, who is Christ the LORD.
Amen and amen.
“The Cross and Christmas”
A couple of weeks ago, on a Thursday afternoon, I went down to Twin Lakes retirement center to hear the Choir sing. There are quite a number of Friedens’ members who sing in that choir, and I couldn’t help but notice that most of them were in the front row. Does the Director put you there so that she can keep an eye on you?
It was a good show. They did well. Some of the staff participated and they did a great job also.They did a very hilarious version of “I ain’t getting nuttin’ for Christmas.” Do you know the song? A little boy sings about all the mischief he’s been in, and then the chorus goes:“I ain’t getting nuttin’ for Christmas, ‘cuz I ain’t been nuttin’ but bad”
After I finished laughing, I started thinking and realized that while that line sums up a lot of our thinking about how God works, it’s just not true. Indeed, it is the exact opposite of the Gospel truth of this night; it is because we “ain’t been nuttin’ but bad” that we have received the one gift we needed, which is Jesus Christ Our Lord.
Not just or primarily us as individuals, but us as the human race, us as humanity, As the Bible says, God so love the World, the Cosmos, that he sent his only beloved Son.
It’s not so much that we are individually evil, it’s that the world is in a mess, and needs to find its way out. The first Christmas came at a time of political and social unrest. Israel was once again a conquered country, living under the domination of the Romans, ruled by King Herod, a cruel, cruel man.
When Christ came, there was hunger and social injustice and war raged upon innocents, all in the name of such things as Truth and Justice and National Security. Then as now, the old values had become skewed and obscured and unrecognizable, and no one knew whom they could trust.
And into such a world God sent his Son.
The message then and the message now is that we are not alone in the midst of the world’s evil, Though we, collectively, ain’t been nuttin’ but Bad, we’re still getin’ something for Christmas.
God has come to us in the midst of our distress. In the middle of our loneliness and despair, God has sent us a sign of his love. Into a world filled with hopelessness, God comes to us in the hopeful form of new life and new birth.
Back in the 1960’s, a Methodist Minister I know graduated from the Seminary at Drew University in New Jersey and was sent to his first church, near a little farm town down east of Raleigh, NC.
In July, he had his first funeral. In seminary they told him that they should sing whatever the family requested, and so he asked the widow what song she wanted, she said, “He liked Silver Bells. He always said he wanted Silver Bells sung at his funeral.” So my friend swallowed hard and said we can do that.
So it was that on a blistering hot day in July, in a little country Church without Air Conditioning, the choir stood up at a funeral and sang, Silver Bells, Ding a Ling, it’s Christmas time in the city.
My friend said he would never forget the confused look on the faces of the congregation as the choir sang verse after verse of Silver Bells at a funeral. As the minister led the procession across the street into the cemetery, the widow caught up with him and whispered, You know Pastor, I was wrong. It wasn’t Silver Bells he wanted. It was “When they ring those Golden Bells for you and me.”
Christ came to be a beacon of light in a dark world, Christ came to show us love in the midst of hatred and strife. Christ came to bring life in the midst of death. Which is why it is not such a bad idea to sing Christmas songs at funerals.
It is a reminder to us that Christ did not come to be cute, Christ came to die. Just as the Cross looms over our Altar, the cross hovers over the manger of the Christ Child.
Christ did not come so that we can have parties and give gifts.
Christ did not come, to reward us for being good, but to save us from being bad.
Christ came to show us the love and care of God in the midst of a deadly and dangerous world.
Christ came to show us how to live and how to die.
Christ came to die upon the cross for us, to save us from sin, death and the devil.
Realizing that, we are ready to celebrate with somber joy and reverent jubilation:
Silver Bells, Ring-a-ling, it’s Christmas time in the city.
I’m getting’ sumethin’ for Christmas, even though I been nuttin’ but bad.
For unto us a child is born, who is Christ the LORD.
Amen and amen.
A Christmas Story
A few years ago, when I was pastor at Holy Trinity Lutheran in Nashville, I went to a Christmas party in our neighborhood. She was Jewish, he was Unitarian, their son was in second grade with our son. We met at PTA. It was only a day or two before Christmas and I had been out and about visiting and taking Home Communion and I came late and wearing my dog collar.
As we settled down to dinner, I found that I had been seated next to "Gramps," just arrived from his home in Israel for the holidays. Spotting my collar he asked in what sounded to me like a British accent, "C of E?" I shook my head no and said "Lutheran." "Pity," he said, "I have a soft spot in my heart for C of E chaps. Got me through a bit of a rough patch once."
Then he told us this story:
He had been raised in South Africa, as he put it "in a pub." His father ran a series of taverns in mining towns and the family lived "above the store, as it were." Though they were Jewish, they weren't at all religious. He said that from the age of 8 or 9 he spent most of his time in the pub with his Dad, serving drinks and learning to play piano by ear; ballads and drinking songs mostly.
When WWII came along, he volunteered for the British Army. When they asked his religion, he thought a minute. They stamped religious affiliation on the dag tags. For Jews, they put a Star of David. The last thing he wanted was to be captured by Jew-hating Nazis with a Star of David around his neck, so he said "I'm C of E, (Church of England)."
He was captured, somewhere in Italy I think. They were in a facility that had a piano, and he occasionally played when they were allowed recreation time.
On Christmas Eve, two guards came to get him, along with a German Chaplain, who told him in English, "We're allowing a captured C of E Priest to hold Christmas Eve communion service, and we know you're C of E and that you play the piano, so we want you to play for the service.
He thought, O my God, I'm caught, for he knew no Christian songs, no Christmas carols and he couldn't read music, he played by ear.
When he got to the makeshift chapel, he managed to convey his problem to the C of E chaplain, who caught on quickly and asked for a quick rundown of songs the man did know. The priest must of done some rapid meter calculations in his head,
for he would announce a hymn and then say, "and our pianist will play one verse so that we can remember the tune,"
and some how the crowd caught on too, and sang Christmas carols to whatever tune the Priest and piano-man had figured would fit.
And other than thinking the English had odd taste in Church music, the Germans never had a clue.
"And so," my dinner partner summed up, "I have a soft spot in my heart for the C of E and it's clergy. And every year I send a contribution to the Anglican Church in Jerusalem. and I keep Christmas, thanking God for the Christians."
Peace,
Delmer
As we settled down to dinner, I found that I had been seated next to "Gramps," just arrived from his home in Israel for the holidays. Spotting my collar he asked in what sounded to me like a British accent, "C of E?" I shook my head no and said "Lutheran." "Pity," he said, "I have a soft spot in my heart for C of E chaps. Got me through a bit of a rough patch once."
Then he told us this story:
He had been raised in South Africa, as he put it "in a pub." His father ran a series of taverns in mining towns and the family lived "above the store, as it were." Though they were Jewish, they weren't at all religious. He said that from the age of 8 or 9 he spent most of his time in the pub with his Dad, serving drinks and learning to play piano by ear; ballads and drinking songs mostly.
When WWII came along, he volunteered for the British Army. When they asked his religion, he thought a minute. They stamped religious affiliation on the dag tags. For Jews, they put a Star of David. The last thing he wanted was to be captured by Jew-hating Nazis with a Star of David around his neck, so he said "I'm C of E, (Church of England)."
He was captured, somewhere in Italy I think. They were in a facility that had a piano, and he occasionally played when they were allowed recreation time.
On Christmas Eve, two guards came to get him, along with a German Chaplain, who told him in English, "We're allowing a captured C of E Priest to hold Christmas Eve communion service, and we know you're C of E and that you play the piano, so we want you to play for the service.
He thought, O my God, I'm caught, for he knew no Christian songs, no Christmas carols and he couldn't read music, he played by ear.
When he got to the makeshift chapel, he managed to convey his problem to the C of E chaplain, who caught on quickly and asked for a quick rundown of songs the man did know. The priest must of done some rapid meter calculations in his head,
for he would announce a hymn and then say, "and our pianist will play one verse so that we can remember the tune,"
and some how the crowd caught on too, and sang Christmas carols to whatever tune the Priest and piano-man had figured would fit.
And other than thinking the English had odd taste in Church music, the Germans never had a clue.
"And so," my dinner partner summed up, "I have a soft spot in my heart for the C of E and it's clergy. And every year I send a contribution to the Anglican Church in Jerusalem. and I keep Christmas, thanking God for the Christians."
Peace,
Delmer
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Advent IV
THE FOURTH SUNDAY IN ADVENT
Dec. 23, 2007
Text: Matthew 1:18-25
TITLE: The True Meaning of Christmas
The other day, I got up early, made a pot of coffee and settled down to my early morning ritual; watching Gunsmoke on TVLand. It was a “Christmas” episode.
The story went something like this: A pleasant and good-hearted ne’er do well got fired from the orphanage for drinking on the job. He then told off the stern, old-maid headmistress for not celebrating Christmas for the “kiddies.”
As usual, things got a bit complicated and everybody in Dodge got involved but finally there was a Christmas Party for the children at the Long Branch Saloon and everybody once again and just in time learned the TRUE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS!
While watching the show, I remembered a lot of TV shows and stories from my youth that followed the same plot; which was perfected by Charles Dickens in his classic “A Christmas Carol.” There Ebenezer Scrooge gets to learn what? The true Meaning of Christmas.
A few years ago John Grisham wrote a book that became a movie starring Tim Allen. It was called Skipping Christmas, and the main character gets cheap and selfish, but eventually learns, what? The True Meaning of Christmas.
Now, here’s a good question. What, exactly, is this True Meaning of Christmas everyone has so energetically been learning? I hate to say it, but I don’t think it’s the same meaning that Matthew and Luke had in mind when they wrote about the shepherds and wisemen and angels and animals and the strange doings in Bethlehem of Judea.
No, the True Meaning of Christmas as proposed
in these modern times has something to do with these ideas:
1) it is more blessed to give than to receive
2) we should be nice to everybody
3) having lots of stuff won’t make you happy,
only loving relationships will make you
truly rich and happy.
All these are admirable sentiments, but they are not unique to Christianity and they are not even remotely close to what the writers of the Gospels wanted to tell us about the birth of Christ.
What we usually do is pick bits and pieces of the Biblical story to “proof text” and “prop up” these ideas. Let’s see: the wisemen brought gifts so we should give, the angels sang something about “good will to all people” so wed should love everybody and King Herod was rich and miserable and Mary and Joseph were poor but proud, so there you go.
I’m sorry folks, but giving and niceness and a mild rejection of materialism are not the True Meaning of Christmas.
That meaning is found in one little word that occurs in two of our lessons for today: Isaiah 7:14 and Matthew 1:23 both refer to Immanuel, God is with us.
That is the true meaning of Christmas. Emmanuel, God IS with us. Not God WAS with us, long ago and far away. Not God will be with us, pie in the sky, by and by. But present tense, here and now, in this time and in this place, Emmanuel, God IS with us.
Not only God IS, but hear clearly, God is WITH us.
Not God beyond us. Not God a way off there somewhere, remote and removed from our everyday lives. Sometimes we like to keep God at arm’s length, we like to keep the holy tied up in the church, like a lovely Christmas present; nicely wrapped and tied with a bow, carefully stashed beneath the tree, but having nothing to do with our daily and ordinary lives. We have God and church and Christ neatly cordoned off into an inoffensive corner of our lives. We may think we have kept God from interfering in the way we live our lives, but that won’t do, Emmanuel, God is with us, won’t allow it. Emmanuel refuses to stay in the corner, Emmanuel insists on messing around in our lives, Emmanuel is God WITH us.
Nor is it God beneath us. Some people treat God and Godly things as an interesting subject for observation and study. They are charmed by the Christmas stories; they find it interesting how the church adopted the approximate date of the winter solstice as a date for Christ’s mass, the day when the SUN begins to return to life. OH, THE IMAGERY IS SO FASCINATING. And then, of course, there are all the parallels with the pagan mystery cults; and of course Handel’s Messiah is such a lovely piece of music. Why Christianity is just embedded in the very fabric of Western Civilization, etc. etc.
But Emmanuel, God is with us, will not allow this. Emmanuel is not God beneath us, nor God beneath our microscope, as some sort of object for our curiosity or admiration. NO, Emmanuel is God with us, God in our midst, God in our lives.
I must warn you to be careful how much you study Godly things, for god is very sneaky, and in the midst of your study you may find yourself drawn into relationship with the one who IS; for God is not beneath us; God is WITH us and works continuously to draw all things into the Divine Presence.
God is not beyond us, God is not beneath us, and God is not between us. There is way too much religious strife in this world, way too much “God is on my side and against you!” Emmanuel, God is WITH us, came to all people, not just the people like us, or the people we like. God is WITH us, not between us. Emmanuel brings us together, does not push us apart.
For the true meaning of Christmas is this: In a mystery too deep for words, too profound for theologians, too irrational for philosophers and too unproveable for scientists; God’s love dictated that God enter in to humanity and be with us, all of us, to share in our joy and sorrow, our triumphs and tragedies, our fears and our faith, our life and our death.
And so, the story goes, it happened one night, long ago, in the city of David, that a child was born whose name was Emmanuel, God is with us.
And the Gospel for today is God is STILL with us and will be with us forever and ever, amen.
Dec. 23, 2007
Text: Matthew 1:18-25
TITLE: The True Meaning of Christmas
The other day, I got up early, made a pot of coffee and settled down to my early morning ritual; watching Gunsmoke on TVLand. It was a “Christmas” episode.
The story went something like this: A pleasant and good-hearted ne’er do well got fired from the orphanage for drinking on the job. He then told off the stern, old-maid headmistress for not celebrating Christmas for the “kiddies.”
As usual, things got a bit complicated and everybody in Dodge got involved but finally there was a Christmas Party for the children at the Long Branch Saloon and everybody once again and just in time learned the TRUE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS!
While watching the show, I remembered a lot of TV shows and stories from my youth that followed the same plot; which was perfected by Charles Dickens in his classic “A Christmas Carol.” There Ebenezer Scrooge gets to learn what? The true Meaning of Christmas.
A few years ago John Grisham wrote a book that became a movie starring Tim Allen. It was called Skipping Christmas, and the main character gets cheap and selfish, but eventually learns, what? The True Meaning of Christmas.
Now, here’s a good question. What, exactly, is this True Meaning of Christmas everyone has so energetically been learning? I hate to say it, but I don’t think it’s the same meaning that Matthew and Luke had in mind when they wrote about the shepherds and wisemen and angels and animals and the strange doings in Bethlehem of Judea.
No, the True Meaning of Christmas as proposed
in these modern times has something to do with these ideas:
1) it is more blessed to give than to receive
2) we should be nice to everybody
3) having lots of stuff won’t make you happy,
only loving relationships will make you
truly rich and happy.
All these are admirable sentiments, but they are not unique to Christianity and they are not even remotely close to what the writers of the Gospels wanted to tell us about the birth of Christ.
What we usually do is pick bits and pieces of the Biblical story to “proof text” and “prop up” these ideas. Let’s see: the wisemen brought gifts so we should give, the angels sang something about “good will to all people” so wed should love everybody and King Herod was rich and miserable and Mary and Joseph were poor but proud, so there you go.
I’m sorry folks, but giving and niceness and a mild rejection of materialism are not the True Meaning of Christmas.
That meaning is found in one little word that occurs in two of our lessons for today: Isaiah 7:14 and Matthew 1:23 both refer to Immanuel, God is with us.
That is the true meaning of Christmas. Emmanuel, God IS with us. Not God WAS with us, long ago and far away. Not God will be with us, pie in the sky, by and by. But present tense, here and now, in this time and in this place, Emmanuel, God IS with us.
Not only God IS, but hear clearly, God is WITH us.
Not God beyond us. Not God a way off there somewhere, remote and removed from our everyday lives. Sometimes we like to keep God at arm’s length, we like to keep the holy tied up in the church, like a lovely Christmas present; nicely wrapped and tied with a bow, carefully stashed beneath the tree, but having nothing to do with our daily and ordinary lives. We have God and church and Christ neatly cordoned off into an inoffensive corner of our lives. We may think we have kept God from interfering in the way we live our lives, but that won’t do, Emmanuel, God is with us, won’t allow it. Emmanuel refuses to stay in the corner, Emmanuel insists on messing around in our lives, Emmanuel is God WITH us.
Nor is it God beneath us. Some people treat God and Godly things as an interesting subject for observation and study. They are charmed by the Christmas stories; they find it interesting how the church adopted the approximate date of the winter solstice as a date for Christ’s mass, the day when the SUN begins to return to life. OH, THE IMAGERY IS SO FASCINATING. And then, of course, there are all the parallels with the pagan mystery cults; and of course Handel’s Messiah is such a lovely piece of music. Why Christianity is just embedded in the very fabric of Western Civilization, etc. etc.
But Emmanuel, God is with us, will not allow this. Emmanuel is not God beneath us, nor God beneath our microscope, as some sort of object for our curiosity or admiration. NO, Emmanuel is God with us, God in our midst, God in our lives.
I must warn you to be careful how much you study Godly things, for god is very sneaky, and in the midst of your study you may find yourself drawn into relationship with the one who IS; for God is not beneath us; God is WITH us and works continuously to draw all things into the Divine Presence.
God is not beyond us, God is not beneath us, and God is not between us. There is way too much religious strife in this world, way too much “God is on my side and against you!” Emmanuel, God is WITH us, came to all people, not just the people like us, or the people we like. God is WITH us, not between us. Emmanuel brings us together, does not push us apart.
For the true meaning of Christmas is this: In a mystery too deep for words, too profound for theologians, too irrational for philosophers and too unproveable for scientists; God’s love dictated that God enter in to humanity and be with us, all of us, to share in our joy and sorrow, our triumphs and tragedies, our fears and our faith, our life and our death.
And so, the story goes, it happened one night, long ago, in the city of David, that a child was born whose name was Emmanuel, God is with us.
And the Gospel for today is God is STILL with us and will be with us forever and ever, amen.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
"Songs of Salvation"
“Songs of Salvation”
a brief homily for Lessons and Carols service.
The world’s celebration of the Nativity of Christ is surrounded by Song.
No secular artist puts out a Thanksgiving CD or an Easter Album, but almost everybody tries to “cash in” on Christmas, either with new songs or old favorites. Christmas songs fill the Malls and Stores and Radio playlists from early November until Dec. 25. And the question arises: What is it about Christmas that causes the heart
to sing?
It was like that from the beginning. In Luke’s Gospel: Mary responds to the Annunciation with what we call The Magnificat, Zechariah celebrates the birth of his son John (to be called the Baptist) with a song that points to the birth of another child, the Coming One. Of course the angels sing to the shepherds on the night of Christ’s birth and at the dedication of the child old Simeon sees the baby and bursts into praise.
Again, what is it about Christmas that causes us to sing?
We have lots of good Easter Hymns, but the non-Church world is much more likely to know “Here Comes Peter Cottontail” than “Thine Is the Glory.” But not so with Christmas Carols. Almost everybody can sing at least one verse of “Away In a Manger” or “O Little Town of Bethlehem” and can recognize the tune of a dozen more. Is it just the vast exposure on Radio and TV, or is there something about the Birth of the Christ Child that makes us want to sing?
A Couple of things occur to me.
First: the only really appropriate response to mystery is adoration, and what better way to adore than to sing.
The story that we celebrate at Christmas is a “something more” mystery. Underneath all the theological baggage and argumentation there is this for all of us: life can be very ordinary and difficult and painful and short and depressing. The birth of a child as the Son of God, a message from beyond that God does love us after all, that this world is not “all there is,” that Peace and Love and Joy are real and are really important and are really possible is a message we all need to hear.
So even those who have their doubts about God, and Jesus and the Church, will themselves to believe in the “something more” that Christmas represents to them: the potential for good in a cold and lonely world. And that Mysterious possibility is something to sing about.
Second; for those of us who receive the story as a true story, a story about how the God of the universe let go of all the trappings and power of Heaven to come and be born in a stable, taking on as the Eucharistic prayer says, “our nature and our lot,” that too is a mystery beyond words. We cannot comprehend a love that big and that deep and that complete, and when ordinary words fail us, we, like Mary and Zechariah and Simeon and the angels; burst into song, for we have no other choice.
Amen.
a brief homily for Lessons and Carols service.
The world’s celebration of the Nativity of Christ is surrounded by Song.
No secular artist puts out a Thanksgiving CD or an Easter Album, but almost everybody tries to “cash in” on Christmas, either with new songs or old favorites. Christmas songs fill the Malls and Stores and Radio playlists from early November until Dec. 25. And the question arises: What is it about Christmas that causes the heart
to sing?
It was like that from the beginning. In Luke’s Gospel: Mary responds to the Annunciation with what we call The Magnificat, Zechariah celebrates the birth of his son John (to be called the Baptist) with a song that points to the birth of another child, the Coming One. Of course the angels sing to the shepherds on the night of Christ’s birth and at the dedication of the child old Simeon sees the baby and bursts into praise.
Again, what is it about Christmas that causes us to sing?
We have lots of good Easter Hymns, but the non-Church world is much more likely to know “Here Comes Peter Cottontail” than “Thine Is the Glory.” But not so with Christmas Carols. Almost everybody can sing at least one verse of “Away In a Manger” or “O Little Town of Bethlehem” and can recognize the tune of a dozen more. Is it just the vast exposure on Radio and TV, or is there something about the Birth of the Christ Child that makes us want to sing?
A Couple of things occur to me.
First: the only really appropriate response to mystery is adoration, and what better way to adore than to sing.
The story that we celebrate at Christmas is a “something more” mystery. Underneath all the theological baggage and argumentation there is this for all of us: life can be very ordinary and difficult and painful and short and depressing. The birth of a child as the Son of God, a message from beyond that God does love us after all, that this world is not “all there is,” that Peace and Love and Joy are real and are really important and are really possible is a message we all need to hear.
So even those who have their doubts about God, and Jesus and the Church, will themselves to believe in the “something more” that Christmas represents to them: the potential for good in a cold and lonely world. And that Mysterious possibility is something to sing about.
Second; for those of us who receive the story as a true story, a story about how the God of the universe let go of all the trappings and power of Heaven to come and be born in a stable, taking on as the Eucharistic prayer says, “our nature and our lot,” that too is a mystery beyond words. We cannot comprehend a love that big and that deep and that complete, and when ordinary words fail us, we, like Mary and Zechariah and Simeon and the angels; burst into song, for we have no other choice.
Amen.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
ADVENT II
ADVENT II
December 9, 2007
Texts: Isaiah 11:1-10, Romans 15:4-13, Matthew 3:1-12
A few years ago, my friend Pr. Warren Casiday told of meeting God on the highway.
He said that he and his wife were traveling North on Interstate 85 when a semi began to top the crest of the hill ahead of them heading South.
Above the cab, across the front of the trailer were emblazoned the letters G – O – D.
Warren mind began to whirl with silly questions and ideas: What kind of music does God allow the truckers to play in the CD. Is it all Contemporary Christian, or can you pop in a little Rap of Country? Would God ever break the speed limit? And if God did speed, would the State Trooper give God a ticket?
As the truck drew closer and Warren that the side of the trailer read Guaranteed Overnight Delivery, one final question flashed through Warren’s mind:
If God is going South, what am I doing going North?
John the Baptist came out of the desert and the wilderness, right down the middle of life’s highway as loud and as noticeable as a semi. He was a clear and unmistakable sign that God was headed South and everybody else was going North, headed the wrong way.
The key word in John’s preaching was repentance. In Greek the word is metanoia. It means literally to “turn, to change, to reverse oneself.” In the Greek language, it is not a particularly religious word. It is rather an ordinary, everyday usable word for turning around and going the other way.
Bible Scholar Alan Richardson says, “In its New Testament usage it implies much more than a mere “change of mind;” it involves a whole reorientation of the personality.” To use Pr. Casiday’s vivid image, If God is going South and we are going North; what should we do?
Well, maybe when we see God going in the other direction, we could be deeply sorry that we are going the wrong way. We might hit ourselves on the forehead, or beat our chest, and say something like:
God be merciful to me, a miserable driver with a poor sense of direction. I know I’m going the wrong way, but - - -I don’t know anything I can do about it. After all, I’m already headed in this direction, and I’m making good time, and I’m getting good gas mileage, and it would be very difficult for me to change and go the other way, and besides, I know you’re a God of grace and love and you’ll forgive me for going the wrong way.
Put in those terms, it sounds pretty silly, doesn’t it? But all too often, that’s how we think about repentance; being sorry for going the wrong way in life, asking God to forgive us, but not doing anything about it, not changing direction.
Another popular response when finding oneself going the wrong way is to blame others for our misdirection. You could look at your spouse and say, “you told me to go this way,” or “going this way was your idea,” or, “it’s not my fault, everybody else was going this way, how was I to know?’ (This option is an old favorite, dating back to Adam and Eve, “You ate the apple,” “You gave it to me.”)
Or, you could blame the map or google or the guy at the gas station.
A modern response is to blame God for going the wrong way. We could spot God in the Southbound lane and look over at our spouse and say, “Would you look at that? God’s lost, God’s going the wrong way, God’s out of touch with the modern world’s sense of direction.”
People have always been good at explaining failure and avoiding change. We fall back on a variety of excuses and reasons, all designed to protect things as they are, we avoid change, especially when the change God calls for will be painful for us personally. We are usually quite willing to ask others to change and equally unwilling to make changes in ourselves.
John’s words to the Pharisees and Sadducees strike at the root of the matter. The text says they were coming for the baptism of repentance, so why does John reject them?
It is because he recognizes that they were coming to join the crowd, they were not coming as people who knew they needed to change, nor were they willing to change.
BEAR FRUIT WORHTY OF REPENTANCE!
John thunders at them, and what he means is pretty simple; Let me see some evidence of a changed direction in your life.
Many of the Pharisees and Sadducees assumed that just being members of the Chosen People was enough. They had latched on to the Chosen part with out remembering the “chosen for a purpose” part. God’s people were Chosen to follow God and to lead the world to follow God. The Pharisees and Sadducees had forgotten the responsibility to others that goes with being a part of a Covenant People of God.
Once during the War Abraham Lincoln had a conversation with a minister who was a fervent abolitionist and war supporter. He said “Mr. Lincoln, don’t you believe that God is on our side?”
Lincoln replied, I certainly hope so Sir. But a more important question would seem to be: Are we on God’s side? That is still a very important question:
Are we on God’s side? If God is going South, why are we going North? If the Kingdom of God is at Hand, what must we do to be ready?
I always remember my mother’s efforts to decorate our little four room house
for Christmas. She had transparent plastic sheets, the size of notebook paper, that contained Biblical nativity scenes. Taped onto the panes, they looked like stained glass windows.
Year after year, Daddy traipsed out into the woods and came home with a scrawny “Charlie Brown” lop-sided pine tree. We would tuck it in a corner to hide the bad side and decorate it with lights and balls and tinsel.
There was a Vacation Bible School Nativity scene for the top of the TV and green holly draped on the wall above the stove and we tacked up five of Daddy’s long gray work socks on the wall above the wood box. We were “getting ready” for Christmas.
John’s word to us today is that GOD is coming, and we need to get ready. The Kingdom of God is at hand. Listen to Isaiah’s version of the promise:
11:1A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. 2The spirit of the LORD shall rest on him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the LORD.
3His delight shall be in the fear of the LORD. He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear; 4but with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth; he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked. 5Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist, and faithfulness the belt around his loins. 6The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. 7The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. 8The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder's den. 9They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea. 10On that day the root of Jesse shall stand as a signal to the peoples; the nations shall inquire of him, and his dwelling shall be glorious.
That is the kingdom that is coming, that is the world that Jesus brings with him, that is the side of the road GOD is traveling on.
God is traveling South on the side of Peace and Justice and the Poor. It is not for us to debate as to whether or not that is the side God is on, or whether or not God should be on that side.
God is barreling down the highway in that direction and the only question for us is Are YOU Ready to Follow? Are you ready to REPENT, to change direction and to follow God wherever God leads? Amen and amen.
December 9, 2007
Texts: Isaiah 11:1-10, Romans 15:4-13, Matthew 3:1-12
A few years ago, my friend Pr. Warren Casiday told of meeting God on the highway.
He said that he and his wife were traveling North on Interstate 85 when a semi began to top the crest of the hill ahead of them heading South.
Above the cab, across the front of the trailer were emblazoned the letters G – O – D.
Warren mind began to whirl with silly questions and ideas: What kind of music does God allow the truckers to play in the CD. Is it all Contemporary Christian, or can you pop in a little Rap of Country? Would God ever break the speed limit? And if God did speed, would the State Trooper give God a ticket?
As the truck drew closer and Warren that the side of the trailer read Guaranteed Overnight Delivery, one final question flashed through Warren’s mind:
If God is going South, what am I doing going North?
John the Baptist came out of the desert and the wilderness, right down the middle of life’s highway as loud and as noticeable as a semi. He was a clear and unmistakable sign that God was headed South and everybody else was going North, headed the wrong way.
The key word in John’s preaching was repentance. In Greek the word is metanoia. It means literally to “turn, to change, to reverse oneself.” In the Greek language, it is not a particularly religious word. It is rather an ordinary, everyday usable word for turning around and going the other way.
Bible Scholar Alan Richardson says, “In its New Testament usage it implies much more than a mere “change of mind;” it involves a whole reorientation of the personality.” To use Pr. Casiday’s vivid image, If God is going South and we are going North; what should we do?
Well, maybe when we see God going in the other direction, we could be deeply sorry that we are going the wrong way. We might hit ourselves on the forehead, or beat our chest, and say something like:
God be merciful to me, a miserable driver with a poor sense of direction. I know I’m going the wrong way, but - - -I don’t know anything I can do about it. After all, I’m already headed in this direction, and I’m making good time, and I’m getting good gas mileage, and it would be very difficult for me to change and go the other way, and besides, I know you’re a God of grace and love and you’ll forgive me for going the wrong way.
Put in those terms, it sounds pretty silly, doesn’t it? But all too often, that’s how we think about repentance; being sorry for going the wrong way in life, asking God to forgive us, but not doing anything about it, not changing direction.
Another popular response when finding oneself going the wrong way is to blame others for our misdirection. You could look at your spouse and say, “you told me to go this way,” or “going this way was your idea,” or, “it’s not my fault, everybody else was going this way, how was I to know?’ (This option is an old favorite, dating back to Adam and Eve, “You ate the apple,” “You gave it to me.”)
Or, you could blame the map or google or the guy at the gas station.
A modern response is to blame God for going the wrong way. We could spot God in the Southbound lane and look over at our spouse and say, “Would you look at that? God’s lost, God’s going the wrong way, God’s out of touch with the modern world’s sense of direction.”
People have always been good at explaining failure and avoiding change. We fall back on a variety of excuses and reasons, all designed to protect things as they are, we avoid change, especially when the change God calls for will be painful for us personally. We are usually quite willing to ask others to change and equally unwilling to make changes in ourselves.
John’s words to the Pharisees and Sadducees strike at the root of the matter. The text says they were coming for the baptism of repentance, so why does John reject them?
It is because he recognizes that they were coming to join the crowd, they were not coming as people who knew they needed to change, nor were they willing to change.
BEAR FRUIT WORHTY OF REPENTANCE!
John thunders at them, and what he means is pretty simple; Let me see some evidence of a changed direction in your life.
Many of the Pharisees and Sadducees assumed that just being members of the Chosen People was enough. They had latched on to the Chosen part with out remembering the “chosen for a purpose” part. God’s people were Chosen to follow God and to lead the world to follow God. The Pharisees and Sadducees had forgotten the responsibility to others that goes with being a part of a Covenant People of God.
Once during the War Abraham Lincoln had a conversation with a minister who was a fervent abolitionist and war supporter. He said “Mr. Lincoln, don’t you believe that God is on our side?”
Lincoln replied, I certainly hope so Sir. But a more important question would seem to be: Are we on God’s side? That is still a very important question:
Are we on God’s side? If God is going South, why are we going North? If the Kingdom of God is at Hand, what must we do to be ready?
I always remember my mother’s efforts to decorate our little four room house
for Christmas. She had transparent plastic sheets, the size of notebook paper, that contained Biblical nativity scenes. Taped onto the panes, they looked like stained glass windows.
Year after year, Daddy traipsed out into the woods and came home with a scrawny “Charlie Brown” lop-sided pine tree. We would tuck it in a corner to hide the bad side and decorate it with lights and balls and tinsel.
There was a Vacation Bible School Nativity scene for the top of the TV and green holly draped on the wall above the stove and we tacked up five of Daddy’s long gray work socks on the wall above the wood box. We were “getting ready” for Christmas.
John’s word to us today is that GOD is coming, and we need to get ready. The Kingdom of God is at hand. Listen to Isaiah’s version of the promise:
11:1A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. 2The spirit of the LORD shall rest on him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the LORD.
3His delight shall be in the fear of the LORD. He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear; 4but with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth; he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked. 5Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist, and faithfulness the belt around his loins. 6The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. 7The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. 8The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder's den. 9They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea. 10On that day the root of Jesse shall stand as a signal to the peoples; the nations shall inquire of him, and his dwelling shall be glorious.
That is the kingdom that is coming, that is the world that Jesus brings with him, that is the side of the road GOD is traveling on.
God is traveling South on the side of Peace and Justice and the Poor. It is not for us to debate as to whether or not that is the side God is on, or whether or not God should be on that side.
God is barreling down the highway in that direction and the only question for us is Are YOU Ready to Follow? Are you ready to REPENT, to change direction and to follow God wherever God leads? Amen and amen.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
ADVENT POEM
Slowly through the gathering darkness they came,
hoping, looking for a place to stay.
A confused young man and a pregnant young woman,
following the path, day after day.
She had heard voices, he had dreamed dreams,
they carried promise in their hearts.
But, for now, life was a matter of waiting,
of waiting for God, of playing their parts.
Advent is patience, Advent is hope,
Advent is walking slowly through life’s darkness
Holding words of hope and promise to our chests,
waiting for God to come, again.
Delmer Chilton, advent 2007
hoping, looking for a place to stay.
A confused young man and a pregnant young woman,
following the path, day after day.
She had heard voices, he had dreamed dreams,
they carried promise in their hearts.
But, for now, life was a matter of waiting,
of waiting for God, of playing their parts.
Advent is patience, Advent is hope,
Advent is walking slowly through life’s darkness
Holding words of hope and promise to our chests,
waiting for God to come, again.
Delmer Chilton, advent 2007
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Advent I, Dec. 2, 2007
ADVENT I Dec. 2, 2007
Texts: Isaiah 2:1-5, Romans 13:11-14,Matthew 24:36-44
I’ll come right to the point. Today’s Gospel lesson is an extremely odd way to start our celebration of the Christmas season. Here we are all decked out in Advent Blue, we’ve lit the first Advent Candle, the Joy Group held a Christmas Party yesterday.
There are announcements in the bulletin about Christmas Poinsettias and the Gibsonville Christmas parade and the Children’s Christmas Program and the Choir Cantatas.
One thing’s for sure, we’re ready for Christmas, but the Gospel lesson isn’t about Christmas.
It’s about Noah and the flood and people dying and thieves breaking in and stealing and we have to wonder,
WHAT DOES ANY OF THIS HAVE TO DO WITH CHRISTMAS?
Well, if by Christmas you mean the Mid-winter American festival of excess and partying and gift-giving, the answer is practically nothing.
Don’t get me wrong; mostly I like that Christmas, it’s kind of fun. I like bright colored lights and shiny Christmas trees and Lord knows I like to get presents. I like parties and I like singing Christmas Carols. Heck, I even like singing, “Grandma got runned over by a reindeer.”
But almost none of that has anything to do with the Christmas we celebrate in the church. That’s the world’s Christmas, the secular Christmas, but it is most definitely NOT the Mass of Christ, the Feast of the Incarnation.
The Mass of Christ is a time to celebrate the fact that, in the words of St. John, “God so loved the world that he sent his only beloved Son.“ John 3:16
And in the words of the Nicene Creed, For us and for our salvation, he came down from heaven.
If we’re talking about the Christmas that is the celebration of the coming of God to Earth in human form, then our Gospel lesson is a perfect guide for our preparation.
One of the problems with what I call XMAS, the secular celebration, is that is focused primarily on the past and on the present without any thought to the future. We see the distant past, “The First Noel,” that long ago night when Christ was born, through the misty lens of our personal past. We struggle to recreate Family Traditions, we get all muddled up in images of real stables and hay bales and plywood in the sanctuary, between real shepherds and 5 year old boys in bathrobes.
We focus our energy on evoking the Spirit of the Christmas season, as if by faithfully observing the right rituals, singing the right songs, sending the perfect card to just the right perfect people we can somehow make ourselves feel warm and fuzzy and right with the world.
And what gets lost in all this is the sense that we are waiting on God; that we are not just thinking about the past, we are looking for God to DO something NEW, again. Instead of expecting God to come suddenly, we have tamed God, domesticated the deity.
We know when God is coming, one minute after midnight, December 25. We have 19 more shopping days ‘til Christmas, 22 if you count the Sundays. God’s coming is within our control, we can schedule it, plan it, orchestrate it, organize it; and if we can just get everything just right, it’ll be the best Christmas EVER!
Somehow, we have allowed ourselves to reduce the greatest miracle in the history of the world
to a matter of guest lists, recipes and the correct display of gaudy colored lights.
AND OUR GOSPEL FOR TODAY IS A STARTLING REMINDER TO US THAT GOD ALWAYS REFUSES TO PLAY BY OUR RULES.
For, while Christmas is, quite appropriately, the celebration of that night, 2000 years ago, when Christ was born, it is more than that. And though Christmas is, again, quite appropriately, a time when families gather and we remember Christmases past with fondness and affection, it is also something more. And the season of Advent is designed to remind us of that Something More.
Advent is the season of Hope, a time when we are called to look to the future with confidence, a time to prepare ourselves for the new miracles God will work in our world. It is a time to get ready for the NEW movements of God’s Spirit in our lives.
In our Gospel lesson, Jesus uses three illustrations to help us realize the suddenness and unpredictability of God’s activity in the world.
First, he cites the familiar story of Noah and the flood, pointing out that the other people went about their normal business, ignoring God until it was too late.
Secondly, he gives twin examples about how some, even in the midst of their normal business, are ready to drop everything and go when Jesus calls.
And Third, Jesus makes reference to the age old problem of burglary, and makes the simple point that if you know when the bad guys are coming, you can be ready for them. But you don’t, so you have to be ready all the time.
And that’s the way it is with God; you never know when the God-moment is going to show up, so you have to be ready all the time.
And this readiness is not a matter of hanging decorations, and baking cookies, and sending Christmas cards, and going to office parties. This readiness is a tenderness in the heart, a willingness of the spirit to hear God’s word and to go God’s way.
To be ready for Christ to come into our lives and into our hearts, we must beat our personal swords into plowshares and our private spears into pruning hooks.
We must make peace in our families and in our churches and in our workplaces before we can make peace in the world. For us to be ready for Christ to come, we must lay aside all the works of darkness, we must put on the armor of light. We must examine our lives, and repent of our sins, and commit ourselves to acts of charity and goodness, to lives of love and generosity.
Advent is a time to Wake UP, a time to prepare ourselves to receive God into our lives. And, as you know, God has a habit of sneaking up on people. God tends to make appearances in unusual ways, through unlikely people, in unexpected places.
2000 years ago, it was a little baby, the child of an un-wed teen-age mother, in a dirty smelly cow-stall, on the other side of nowhere.
Who knows who, or when, or where it might be next time?
Who knows? It might be you! Now! Here!
Get Ready! Wake Up! God’s Coming! The Future is upon us.
amen and amen.
Texts: Isaiah 2:1-5, Romans 13:11-14,Matthew 24:36-44
I’ll come right to the point. Today’s Gospel lesson is an extremely odd way to start our celebration of the Christmas season. Here we are all decked out in Advent Blue, we’ve lit the first Advent Candle, the Joy Group held a Christmas Party yesterday.
There are announcements in the bulletin about Christmas Poinsettias and the Gibsonville Christmas parade and the Children’s Christmas Program and the Choir Cantatas.
One thing’s for sure, we’re ready for Christmas, but the Gospel lesson isn’t about Christmas.
It’s about Noah and the flood and people dying and thieves breaking in and stealing and we have to wonder,
WHAT DOES ANY OF THIS HAVE TO DO WITH CHRISTMAS?
Well, if by Christmas you mean the Mid-winter American festival of excess and partying and gift-giving, the answer is practically nothing.
Don’t get me wrong; mostly I like that Christmas, it’s kind of fun. I like bright colored lights and shiny Christmas trees and Lord knows I like to get presents. I like parties and I like singing Christmas Carols. Heck, I even like singing, “Grandma got runned over by a reindeer.”
But almost none of that has anything to do with the Christmas we celebrate in the church. That’s the world’s Christmas, the secular Christmas, but it is most definitely NOT the Mass of Christ, the Feast of the Incarnation.
The Mass of Christ is a time to celebrate the fact that, in the words of St. John, “God so loved the world that he sent his only beloved Son.“ John 3:16
And in the words of the Nicene Creed, For us and for our salvation, he came down from heaven.
If we’re talking about the Christmas that is the celebration of the coming of God to Earth in human form, then our Gospel lesson is a perfect guide for our preparation.
One of the problems with what I call XMAS, the secular celebration, is that is focused primarily on the past and on the present without any thought to the future. We see the distant past, “The First Noel,” that long ago night when Christ was born, through the misty lens of our personal past. We struggle to recreate Family Traditions, we get all muddled up in images of real stables and hay bales and plywood in the sanctuary, between real shepherds and 5 year old boys in bathrobes.
We focus our energy on evoking the Spirit of the Christmas season, as if by faithfully observing the right rituals, singing the right songs, sending the perfect card to just the right perfect people we can somehow make ourselves feel warm and fuzzy and right with the world.
And what gets lost in all this is the sense that we are waiting on God; that we are not just thinking about the past, we are looking for God to DO something NEW, again. Instead of expecting God to come suddenly, we have tamed God, domesticated the deity.
We know when God is coming, one minute after midnight, December 25. We have 19 more shopping days ‘til Christmas, 22 if you count the Sundays. God’s coming is within our control, we can schedule it, plan it, orchestrate it, organize it; and if we can just get everything just right, it’ll be the best Christmas EVER!
Somehow, we have allowed ourselves to reduce the greatest miracle in the history of the world
to a matter of guest lists, recipes and the correct display of gaudy colored lights.
AND OUR GOSPEL FOR TODAY IS A STARTLING REMINDER TO US THAT GOD ALWAYS REFUSES TO PLAY BY OUR RULES.
For, while Christmas is, quite appropriately, the celebration of that night, 2000 years ago, when Christ was born, it is more than that. And though Christmas is, again, quite appropriately, a time when families gather and we remember Christmases past with fondness and affection, it is also something more. And the season of Advent is designed to remind us of that Something More.
Advent is the season of Hope, a time when we are called to look to the future with confidence, a time to prepare ourselves for the new miracles God will work in our world. It is a time to get ready for the NEW movements of God’s Spirit in our lives.
In our Gospel lesson, Jesus uses three illustrations to help us realize the suddenness and unpredictability of God’s activity in the world.
First, he cites the familiar story of Noah and the flood, pointing out that the other people went about their normal business, ignoring God until it was too late.
Secondly, he gives twin examples about how some, even in the midst of their normal business, are ready to drop everything and go when Jesus calls.
And Third, Jesus makes reference to the age old problem of burglary, and makes the simple point that if you know when the bad guys are coming, you can be ready for them. But you don’t, so you have to be ready all the time.
And that’s the way it is with God; you never know when the God-moment is going to show up, so you have to be ready all the time.
And this readiness is not a matter of hanging decorations, and baking cookies, and sending Christmas cards, and going to office parties. This readiness is a tenderness in the heart, a willingness of the spirit to hear God’s word and to go God’s way.
To be ready for Christ to come into our lives and into our hearts, we must beat our personal swords into plowshares and our private spears into pruning hooks.
We must make peace in our families and in our churches and in our workplaces before we can make peace in the world. For us to be ready for Christ to come, we must lay aside all the works of darkness, we must put on the armor of light. We must examine our lives, and repent of our sins, and commit ourselves to acts of charity and goodness, to lives of love and generosity.
Advent is a time to Wake UP, a time to prepare ourselves to receive God into our lives. And, as you know, God has a habit of sneaking up on people. God tends to make appearances in unusual ways, through unlikely people, in unexpected places.
2000 years ago, it was a little baby, the child of an un-wed teen-age mother, in a dirty smelly cow-stall, on the other side of nowhere.
Who knows who, or when, or where it might be next time?
Who knows? It might be you! Now! Here!
Get Ready! Wake Up! God’s Coming! The Future is upon us.
amen and amen.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Christ the King, Nov. 25, 2007
CHRIST THE KING
Nov. 25, 2007
Luke 23:33-43
Today is Christ the King Sunday. It is an odd sort of celebration for this time of year, with this story of Jesus’ crucifixion popping up between the Feasting of Thanksgiving and the Joy of Advent and Christmas.
And the very idea of kings, and Jesus as our King, is very hard for us to get a handle on in America in 2007. After all, we got rid of kings in this country 230 years ago. What do kings have to do with us?
We have silly images, like the Burger King, now being hunted by a hitman hired by suburban moms because his sandwiches are better than theirs.
We have Elvis, THE KING. A friend of mine is pastor of Christ the king Lutheran Church in Tupelo Miss., Elvis’ birthplace. I told her she should rename the church The King’s Lutheran Church and put a velvet painting of Elvis at the Last Supper in the Narthex. I figured she could work up a good crowd like that, but she declined.
Let’s see, what other kings are there? Well, there’s usually some loud-mouthed salesman on TV who proclaims himself the Mattress King, or the Used Car King, or the something like that. COME ON DOWN. WE’RE DEALING!
None of these ideas is of much help to us in thinking about what it means for us to call Christ our King. Let’s look at the Bible and see what’s going on for the Jews and for Pilate and for the thief on the cross.
Our Gospel lesson falls out into two basic sections.
1) verses 33-38 – the crucifixion
2) verses 39-43 – the conversation with the thieves.
Luke’s story of the crucifixion is very spare and simple; “they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his left and one on his right.”
That’s it. Very simple, very plain, and very clear to the people to whom Luke was writing.
Luke was a Greek, his main audience was Greco-Roman in culture, not Jewish, and they knew exactly was Crucifixion was, they didn’t need to have it explained to them. It was very common throughout the empire. Which was Luke’s point.
Jesus, the supposed Son of God, Lord of Lord and King of Kings, executed like a common criminal with a couple of petty criminals. Not very kingly, is it?
And then, more indignity, more shame; the soldiers kneel at his feet while he’s still alive. Not to worship, but to gamble for his clothes.
And people laughed at him, “He saved others, let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen One.” There it is, the crux of the matter for the people then, and if we’re honest for us now.
We don’t want a suffering and dying God. We want a strong and powerful one. We want a Savior who can not only forgive our sins, but who will make us richer and prettier and more popular and help insure that all our plans work out for the best.
Joel Osteen is pastor of the large mega-church that meets in the large arena in Houston that used to be where the Houston Rockets played basketball.
He recently was interviewed on NPR, talking about his books and sermons and the interviewer pointed out there was almost nothing in his preaching and writing that had to do with God, or theology, or Christ or death and resurrection. The interviewer said, “It seems to be mostly pop psychology with a Bible verse attached.” And all Osteen could think to say was “Well, what I teach them helps people.”
Yes, we want a powerful savior, a helpful God, a conquering Messiah, a King who conquers. That’s why they were mocking him.
And the Romans made fun of him too, for different reasons. It amused them to see this carpenter; this rustic preacher wrapped in purple, with people claiming he was the King of the Jews, the rightful King, the representative of God on earth.
It amused them because they were Romans and they knew what a real king looked like, and this was definitely not it. A real king had power and arrogance and a hint of cruelty, and this Jesus had none of that. So they mocked him.
This first part of the Scripture shows us a man who is not anything like what anyone believes a king should be; not the Romans, not the Jews, not us.
The Second Part, verses 39 through 43 shows us what kind of king Jesus was, and is.
One of the criminals crucified with Jesus joins in the derision, (verse 39). He sees Jesus the same way everyone else does, as a self-deluded failure, as a pitifully deranged religious fanatic, as a nut.
But for some reason, the other thief sees Jesus with the eyes of faith.
He starts out simply by reminding the other man that while they are guilty, Jesus’ himself is innocent and does not deserve to die. So far, just a compassionate and honest thief taking pity on another condemned man.
Then he does this astounding thing. He turns to Jesus and says, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Where did that come from?
How can he hang there on the cross and look over at a man dying beside him, and see in him a savior, a messiah, a king with a kingdom?
More importantly, how can we look upon this same man, this same small town carpenter and preacher, this same little Jew from 2000 years ago, and see in him not only the Saviour of the world but the Saviour of our souls?
It is because of something the Jews introduced to the world, that Jesus taught and lived out and died for, something which has become a part of our modern world; the idea that the true leader, the true king is the one who serves, the one who suffers for the people.
The Jewish idea of a king was that the king ruled under God, not as a God, that the king was as responsible to God as were the subjects.
This idea was taken further by the prophets, in particular Isaiah, who saw the king, the messiah as one who suffers on behalf of the people, as a suffering servant.
Jesus frequently said things like the true leader is the one who serves others. The one who takes up the burdens of others is the one who comes in the name of the Lord. Particularly at the Last Supper, when he got down on his knees and washed the disciples feet, Jesus showed what true leadership, true kingship, is about.
And somehow, the second thief got it, saw what Jesus was doing, saw that here was the Lord of the Universe, the King of kings, refusing to swat his oppressors, dying so that they could be forgiven, dying so that by his suffering their suffering would be healed.
In 1988 an earthquake hit Armenia. Some years later Nishan Bakalian was in the town of Stepavan and met a woman everyone called, “Palasan’s wife.”
They called her that to show her great honor.
Here’s the story.
When the earthquake hit, it was nearly noon. Palasan was at work. He rushed to the elementary school where his son was a pupil. The front was falling, but Palasan went in and started pushing children out. He stood in a door, his back pushing up against the jamb and helped at least 28 children to safety before an aftershock collapsed the building and killed him.
The people of his town honor his memory by calling his widow, “Palasan’s wife.” They remember that he died to save others, the greatest act of leadership possible.
We celebrate Christ the King today, not because of his Regalness, but because of his humility, not because of his power but because of his compassion, not because of his triumph but because of his travail, not because he fixes our lives but because he shows us the way to live.
Amen and amen.
Nov. 25, 2007
Luke 23:33-43
Today is Christ the King Sunday. It is an odd sort of celebration for this time of year, with this story of Jesus’ crucifixion popping up between the Feasting of Thanksgiving and the Joy of Advent and Christmas.
And the very idea of kings, and Jesus as our King, is very hard for us to get a handle on in America in 2007. After all, we got rid of kings in this country 230 years ago. What do kings have to do with us?
We have silly images, like the Burger King, now being hunted by a hitman hired by suburban moms because his sandwiches are better than theirs.
We have Elvis, THE KING. A friend of mine is pastor of Christ the king Lutheran Church in Tupelo Miss., Elvis’ birthplace. I told her she should rename the church The King’s Lutheran Church and put a velvet painting of Elvis at the Last Supper in the Narthex. I figured she could work up a good crowd like that, but she declined.
Let’s see, what other kings are there? Well, there’s usually some loud-mouthed salesman on TV who proclaims himself the Mattress King, or the Used Car King, or the something like that. COME ON DOWN. WE’RE DEALING!
None of these ideas is of much help to us in thinking about what it means for us to call Christ our King. Let’s look at the Bible and see what’s going on for the Jews and for Pilate and for the thief on the cross.
Our Gospel lesson falls out into two basic sections.
1) verses 33-38 – the crucifixion
2) verses 39-43 – the conversation with the thieves.
Luke’s story of the crucifixion is very spare and simple; “they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his left and one on his right.”
That’s it. Very simple, very plain, and very clear to the people to whom Luke was writing.
Luke was a Greek, his main audience was Greco-Roman in culture, not Jewish, and they knew exactly was Crucifixion was, they didn’t need to have it explained to them. It was very common throughout the empire. Which was Luke’s point.
Jesus, the supposed Son of God, Lord of Lord and King of Kings, executed like a common criminal with a couple of petty criminals. Not very kingly, is it?
And then, more indignity, more shame; the soldiers kneel at his feet while he’s still alive. Not to worship, but to gamble for his clothes.
And people laughed at him, “He saved others, let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen One.” There it is, the crux of the matter for the people then, and if we’re honest for us now.
We don’t want a suffering and dying God. We want a strong and powerful one. We want a Savior who can not only forgive our sins, but who will make us richer and prettier and more popular and help insure that all our plans work out for the best.
Joel Osteen is pastor of the large mega-church that meets in the large arena in Houston that used to be where the Houston Rockets played basketball.
He recently was interviewed on NPR, talking about his books and sermons and the interviewer pointed out there was almost nothing in his preaching and writing that had to do with God, or theology, or Christ or death and resurrection. The interviewer said, “It seems to be mostly pop psychology with a Bible verse attached.” And all Osteen could think to say was “Well, what I teach them helps people.”
Yes, we want a powerful savior, a helpful God, a conquering Messiah, a King who conquers. That’s why they were mocking him.
And the Romans made fun of him too, for different reasons. It amused them to see this carpenter; this rustic preacher wrapped in purple, with people claiming he was the King of the Jews, the rightful King, the representative of God on earth.
It amused them because they were Romans and they knew what a real king looked like, and this was definitely not it. A real king had power and arrogance and a hint of cruelty, and this Jesus had none of that. So they mocked him.
This first part of the Scripture shows us a man who is not anything like what anyone believes a king should be; not the Romans, not the Jews, not us.
The Second Part, verses 39 through 43 shows us what kind of king Jesus was, and is.
One of the criminals crucified with Jesus joins in the derision, (verse 39). He sees Jesus the same way everyone else does, as a self-deluded failure, as a pitifully deranged religious fanatic, as a nut.
But for some reason, the other thief sees Jesus with the eyes of faith.
He starts out simply by reminding the other man that while they are guilty, Jesus’ himself is innocent and does not deserve to die. So far, just a compassionate and honest thief taking pity on another condemned man.
Then he does this astounding thing. He turns to Jesus and says, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Where did that come from?
How can he hang there on the cross and look over at a man dying beside him, and see in him a savior, a messiah, a king with a kingdom?
More importantly, how can we look upon this same man, this same small town carpenter and preacher, this same little Jew from 2000 years ago, and see in him not only the Saviour of the world but the Saviour of our souls?
It is because of something the Jews introduced to the world, that Jesus taught and lived out and died for, something which has become a part of our modern world; the idea that the true leader, the true king is the one who serves, the one who suffers for the people.
The Jewish idea of a king was that the king ruled under God, not as a God, that the king was as responsible to God as were the subjects.
This idea was taken further by the prophets, in particular Isaiah, who saw the king, the messiah as one who suffers on behalf of the people, as a suffering servant.
Jesus frequently said things like the true leader is the one who serves others. The one who takes up the burdens of others is the one who comes in the name of the Lord. Particularly at the Last Supper, when he got down on his knees and washed the disciples feet, Jesus showed what true leadership, true kingship, is about.
And somehow, the second thief got it, saw what Jesus was doing, saw that here was the Lord of the Universe, the King of kings, refusing to swat his oppressors, dying so that they could be forgiven, dying so that by his suffering their suffering would be healed.
In 1988 an earthquake hit Armenia. Some years later Nishan Bakalian was in the town of Stepavan and met a woman everyone called, “Palasan’s wife.”
They called her that to show her great honor.
Here’s the story.
When the earthquake hit, it was nearly noon. Palasan was at work. He rushed to the elementary school where his son was a pupil. The front was falling, but Palasan went in and started pushing children out. He stood in a door, his back pushing up against the jamb and helped at least 28 children to safety before an aftershock collapsed the building and killed him.
The people of his town honor his memory by calling his widow, “Palasan’s wife.” They remember that he died to save others, the greatest act of leadership possible.
We celebrate Christ the King today, not because of his Regalness, but because of his humility, not because of his power but because of his compassion, not because of his triumph but because of his travail, not because he fixes our lives but because he shows us the way to live.
Amen and amen.
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