Pastor Dave's November 2012 Newsletter article

“So Boaz took Ruth and she became his wife.  When they came together, the Lord made her conceive, and she bore a son….then Naomi [Ruth’s mother] took the child and laid him in her bosom, and became her nurse.  The women of the neighborhood gave him a name, saying, ‘A son has been born to Naomi.’  They named him Obed; he became the father of Jesse, the father of David.” 

Ruth 4:13, 16-17

The verses above, from our Old Testament reading for November 11, are the “happy ending” to the story of Ruth.  It’s a complicated story which begins in tragedy, with the widowed Naomi and her widowed Moabite daughter-in-law Ruth making their way to Bethlehem (which literally means “house of bread”) to try to eke out a living.  Ruth makes her way to the fields to glean whatever grain is left behind by Boaz’ servants.   As it happens, she finds her way to the field of Boaz, a member of Naomi’s extended family.  Boaz treats Ruth kindly and, as the saying goes, the rest is history – important history, too, because among the descendants of Ruth and Boaz are David, son of Jesse, who will go on to become the great king of Israel. 

On the first Sunday of November, at Emanuel United Church of Christ we remember the names of our departed loved ones, those who have passed from this life to enter the Church Triumphant.  Behind the names printed in the bulletin are stories – funny stories, sad stories, complicated stories, and perhaps some stories that to this day have unresolved loose ends.  Many of these stories will never appear in a printed family history or a printed history of the church, but they still helped to shape who we are today.  These are our family stories, and the stories of our church. 

It is wonderful to consider that the history of God’s people, the “great story” of Israel and of the church, include small, lovely stories such as the book of Ruth.  The same can be said of our stories – our family stories, our church stories.  The history of God’s people is not a closed book, but is still being written – and our family stories and the stories of Emanuel Church are part of it.  May God grant that our family stories, and the story of Emanuel Church, continue to give glory to God for generations to come.

See you in church –

 Pastor Dave

Take It To The Lord In Prayer

(Scriptures:       I Samuel 1:1-20, 2:1-10;  Hebrews 10:11-25; Mark 13:1-8)

 

Some of you – if you like action movies – may have seen the 1995 movie “Judge Dredd”.    The movie is set in the year 2139, in a future in which almost everything has fallen apart.   These ominous opening lines set the scene:  “In the third millennium, the world changed. Climate, nations, all were in upheaval. The Earth transformed into a poisonous, scorched desert, known as "The Cursed Earth". Millions of people crowded into a few Megacities, where roving bands of street savages created violence the justice system could not control...”  The movie tells us that out of all this chaos arose a system of judges, who acted as judge, jury and executioner.  Judge Dredd, played by Sylvester Stallone, was the most hardline and stringent of the judges.  Judge Dredd went around accosting evildoers, pressing some sort of weapon or scanning device to their bodies, saying “Prepare to be judged.”  If anyone protested or even questioned him, Judge Dredd’s response was, “I am the law”.   Those aspiring to be judges are told that,  “Upon retirement, you will take the Long Walk... which every Judge takes, outside these city walls, into the Cursed Earth. There you will remain for the last of your days, alone and carrying the Law.” (Source for quotes: IMDB movie database).

I don’t know whether the creators of the movie Judge Dredd had read the OT book of Judges – though something tells me it’s possible they had a passing acquaintance.   The Book of Judges describes, not a future, but a past in which social order had largely fallen apart.  Joshua, who led Israel to the promised land, had died, and we’re told that “another generation grew up after them, who did not know the Lord or the work he had done for Israel.”  We’re also told that “The Lord raised up judges, who delivered them out of the power of those that plundered them…whenever the Lord raised up judges for them, the Lord was with the judge, and he delivered them from the hand of their enemies all the days of the judge; for the Lord would be moved to pity….but whenever the judge died, they would relapse and behave worse than their ancestors…..”  And so throughout the book of Judges there’s this cycle – Israel worships false gods and is conquered; God raises up a judge who delivers the people and establishes order for a time; the judge dies; the people go back to their old ways and behave worse than before.  We’re told at the end of the book of judges that “In those days there was no king in Israel; all the people did what was right in their own eyes.”   Sounds like a recipe for chaos.

Our reading from the opening chapter of I Samuel takes place near the end of the time of the judges, by which time social order had largely broken down.   The book starts out with a story about a family – a dysfunctional family, as it happens.  There’s a man named Elkanah, who has two wives, Hannah and Peninnah.  Hannah is very much Elkanah’s favored wife, but is barren.    The very  name of the second wife, Peninnah, means in Hebrew “the second” or “the other one”; perhaps Elkanah only married Peninnah  in order to assure himself of an heir.   We’re told that when Elkanah offered sacrifices, he favors Hannah with a double portion of the meat, and assures Hannah of his love – “Am I not more to you than ten sons?” – but while Elkanah’s self-esteem is doing just fine, thank you very much, Hannah is desolate because she has not been able to fulfill her wifely duty of producing an heir.  Peninnah, “the other one”, is very much aware that, despite her having borne Elkanah children, she’s the spare wife, and she takes her frustration out on Hannah.  So Hannah has turmoil within and without – the wider society has broken down, making her utterly dependent on the good graces of Elkanah; she has apparently failed in her primary wifely duty of bearing Elkanah a son, and Elkanah’s other wife is making life miserable for Hannah. 

Now this was long before the building of the temple in Jerusalem.   In those days, the Lord was worshipped in Shiloh, where the aged Eli was the head priest.   We’re told that year by year, Elkanah would go up to Shiloh to worship and sacrifice, and his family came with him.  On one such annual pilgrimage, Hannah was feeling utterly overwhelmed, and presented herself before the Lord at Shiloh.  She poured her pain out to God with tears and silent prayer, and implored God for a son, promising God that if she had a son,  the son would be raised to serve the Lord.  The old priest Eli sees Hannah’s tears and sees her lips moving…. Thinking she’s three sails to the wind, he chastise her and tries to chase her out.  Hannah tells old Eli of her pain and her prayer, and receives Eli’s blessing.   And God answers her prayer.  She gives birth to Samuel, who, as promised, she presents to the Lord – a major act of faith, as she had no assurance that after presenting Samuel, any more children were on the way  .  God honors her consecration of her son – Samuel will grow up to become the last and greatest of the judges, and will eventually bring the age of the judges to a close when he is called on to anoint King Saul and, later, King  David.   The Lord continues to bless Hannah, giving her three more sons and two daughter….it’s a famine or feast situation!

In the five years I’ve been pastor here – my first Sunday filling in here was November 11, 2007,five years ago last Sunday, and so this is the very beginning of my sixth year here – I’ve heard it said, “We’re a small church, but we pray big.”  And prayers have been answered here.  I still remember the weeks we prayed for Keith, who broke his neck in a diving accident – we weren’t sure Keith was going to make it, but he’s alive, regained some use of his arms, and perhaps, maybe, God will grant that he may be able to stand someday.    Our friend Dorothy from the auctions has come through treatment for cancer.   And those are just two that popped into my head as I was putting this sermon together; as you and I run down the prayer list, each of us may remember persons – people still on the list, people who were on the list but have since been removed - who were added at a time of illness or adversity, who have been healed, have found resolution to crises.

And Emanuel Church is still here.  We’ve had some challenging moments – Gloria, who used to prepare the bulletins and did many other things to support the church, moved to New Jersey.   One former member came all the way from Oklahoma to reclaim a piece of artwork she’d donated to the church years ago, a woodcut depiction of the Lord’s Supper – because she heard our church was going downhill at high speeds, and she wanted her thriving church in Oklahoma to have it.   The Polish Assemblies of God congregation that used to share space with us folded.  So did the “To Live Again” group. 

But, by God’s grace, we’re still here.   And there is new life.  We even hosted a wedding.  We’ve had baptisms.  Our box of toys have children once again to play with them.  Yes, we have children, even a children’s Sunday school class – not large, not every Sunday, but still, children are a part of the congregation.    We’ve received new members during most, if not all, of the past five calendar years.   And we had a wonderful 150^th anniversary celebration in 2011, with friends and former members from near and far celebrating with us.  And all our members, longtime members, new members, visitors who may be future members, have been willing to walk through the desert times, walk through the wilderness periods, in the faith that God who led us in the past will continue to lead us in the future.

We worship a God whose response to death is resurrection, who prepares a way in the wilderness, who makes a way out of no way, who brings possibility out of impossibility.  We worship a God who uses ordinary people – elderly Abram and Sarah, who again were childless until God got busy; Moses who was described in Numbers as the meekest man on earth, and who described himself as slow of speech,  Elkanah and Hannah, David the youngest son of Jesse, out keeping the sheep, and on and on – through Mary who said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word,” – and who, like Hannah, sang songs of exultation in response to God’s blessing.    As small as our congregation is, we are not so small that our lives, or our prayers, escape God’s notice. 

“What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and grief to bear/What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer”.    May Emanuel Church continue to be a small – or perhaps someday, not so small – church that prays big.  May we be a house of prayer – hopefully someday for more people, and by God’s grace a house of prayer for all people.  No matter how out of control our society may seem, no matter how out of control our lives may seem, may we never hesitate to bring our pain, our sorrow, our anger, along with our joys and our praise, to the Lord in prayer.  And may we, like Hannah, be able to sing, in all our circumstances, “My heart exults in the Lord; my strength is exalted in my God.”  Amen.

 

The Widow's Mite

(Scriptures:       Ruth 3:1-18 4:13-22; , Hebrews 9:11-14, 24-28, Mark 12:35-44)

 

 

From Mark 12:41-44: “[Jesus] sat down opposite the treasury [of the Temple] and watched the crowds putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. Then [Jesus] called his disciples and said to them, ‘Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.’”

In today’s difficult economy, some of the more jarring TV advertisements I’ve seen, usually on late night TV, are for companies who offer to buy peoples’ – quote, unquote – “unwanted gold.”    Let that phrase roll over your mind…..”unwanted gold”.    It brings up the image in my mind of some obnoxiously wealthy person complaining that they have all these piles of gold just lying around and they’re sick of looking at them  and tripping over them.   (And if you are so fortunate as to meet any obnoxiously wealthy people who truly do have piles of gold lying around that they’d like to unload, please invite them to join Emanuel Church, and inform them that they are most welcome to unload their unwanted gold right here, free of charge. We’ll even give ‘em a donut to eat on the way home.) Of course, the stories behind such sales of so-called unwanted gold are often very sad – a family has fallen on hard times, and so they have to start selling off articles of value in order to pay the mortgage.   But it’s instructive how the advertising industry can create such Orwellian terms as “unwanted gold” to make such painful sacrifices as selling off one’s family heirlooms in order to pay bills seem like normal, routine, everyday occurrences. 

This morning’s reading from Mark’s Gospel is among the more difficult and challenging passages in Scripture – multiple conclusions can be drawn from the reading, none of which are necessarily easy to live with.  Jesus has just gotten done wrangling with the Pharisees, who were very interested in the application of the law, over the topic of paying taxes to the emperor, and wrangling over the topic of eternal life with the Sadducees, the party of the Jews who controlled worship at the Temple in Jerusalem, and who did not believe in the resurrection.   Having concluded that lengthy and vigorous discussion, Jesus tells his disciples, “Watch out for the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes and be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to get the best seats in the house at worship.  They cheat widows out of their homes, and for the sake of appearance say long prayers.“   

We’re told that, at that point, Jesus sat down across the street from the Temple and watched people put their offerings in the Treasury.  We’re told that many wealthy people made impressive donations.  And then along comes a poor widow, likely dressed in threadbare clothing.  She drops two small coins into the treasury – the two coins combined add up to a penny – and goes on her way. 

And this is where I have to divert just a little, because after I printed up the bulletins, I realized my sermon title may be confusing for some.  Most of us think of mites as small, sometimes parasitic bugs that live on plants and on dust and such.  And while, given the sanitation standards of the day, it’s entirely possible the poor widow had those kind of mites as well, the kind of mite I’m talking about in my sermon title was a coin.  The coins the widow dropped into the treasury were in Jesus’ day called leptons.  They were the lowest denomination coin, sort of like a half-penny.  When the King James Bible was translated, the word lepton was translated as mite, which was the smallest denomination coin in the English monetary system at that time.  And even though modern Bible translations no longer use the word mite, the phrase “the widow’s mite” – m-i-t-e -  has stuck as part of our vocabulary.

Anyway….Jesus notes that “This poor widow gave more than everyone else, for the wealthy gave out of their abundance" – perhaps they were getting rid of a little of their  unwanted gold – "while the poor widow gave the last bit of money she had to live on to the Temple treasury.”

A bit about that Temple treasury.  As you might expect, the purpose was to hold monetary donations, though there were also receptacles for sacrifices of grain and such, on which the Levites subsisted.  Archeologists tell us that the treasury had 13 depositories – said to look either like trumpets or like horns – designated for various kinds of offerings.  Perhaps from the location of these depositories or from the sound of the coin dropping into the depository, onlookers could tell whether a large or a small donation had been made.   And so Jesus was able to see the wealthy putting in their large offerings, and the poor widow putting in her tiny offering, which given her lack of resources was for her a huge sacrifice.

What were the funds of the Temple treasury used for?  Well, then as now, religious institutions have expenses – and the Jerusalem temple especially so.  Herod the Great, the local puppet ruler put in place by Rome, undertook a dramatic expansion and remodeling of the Temple.  And, then as now, capital campaigns aren’t cheap.  We might compare this, in a more modern context, to the poor whose pennies, nickels and dimes went to build St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome – or the poor in America, many of them immigrants, whose hard-earned money went to build many of the large church buildings, Protestant and Catholic, we see throughout Philadelphia today.

This passage is situated in the lectionary for what many churches call Stewardship Sunday (as a text for the annual “money sermon”).  And, fair warning, today’s “money sermon” may turn out to be among the stranger Stewardship Sunday sermons you’re likely to hear.  But anyway - In many churches, our offering plates would be full, not only of this morning’s donations, but of pledge cards telling what members intended to give in the coming year.   The Old Testament standard of giving, which in many churches is held up as a standard of giving even today, is a tithe – ten percent of one’s income, right off the top.   But the widow in this account went far beyond that – as small as her gift was, it wasn’t 10%, but 100% of what she had on hand.  Clearly, the widow provides an example of sacrificial giving, giving till it hurts  – as we are taught, and as many church members indeed live out. The temple establishment barely noticed either the widow’s presence or her gift, but Jesus noticed and honored her giving.   And one can admire the widow’s great faith in God, that even though the widow parted with her last coin, she had faith that somehow, God would provide.

All of the foregoing is true – but all that said, for me, the passage this passage raises some truly uncomfortable questions.  Remember that  immediately before the story of the widow’s mite, Jesus warned his disciples to beware of the religious elite who in their corruption “devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers.” (Mark 12:40) Right after this opening statement, Jesus’ words are played out – along comes this poor widow who gave all she had, who was faithful in the only way she knew, to a religious institution that perhaps really didn’t merit her fidelity.  After all, Jesus has been quite critical of the temple hierarchy, the Sadducees, and of the Temple in which they held power.  In fact, in Mark’s gospel, immediately after the account of the widow’s mite, Jesus prophesies that the Temple will be destroyed, not one stone left standing on another.   So in Mark’s Gospel – and also in Luke’s Gospel, which picks up Mark’s wording nearly unchanged at the end of Luke chapters 20 and the beginning of Luke chapter 21, these three images are presented together, in sequence,  one after the other after the other, like the cars on a freight train – Jesus’ critique of a religious establishment entirely willing to soak the poor for everything they have, with no pangs of conscience whatever; a poor widow being soaked of everything she has, and Jesus’ prophesy that the days of the status quo are numbered, that the Temple for which so many offered so much will soon be torn down, obliterated, not one stone left standing on another.

What are we to say about this?  It’s not difficult to point to similar examples in our own day.     Who among us has not passed some huge, ornate church or cathedral or basilica, richly decorated with beautiful carvings and gold leaf and such, and asked ourselves how many poor people could have been fed with the money that went into such architecture.   I’m certainly not making an argument for limiting the church to worshipping in wood shacks or for letting church buildings fall into rack and ruin,  but when is enough building truly enough? And likely some of us, myself very much included, shake our heads at those radio preachers and television evangelists who are endlessly dunning people of modest resources for costly sacrificial gifts and love offerings.   The cause always sounds good – we’re collecting money to bring God’s good news to this group or that group, or to construct this or that facility without which the spread of the gospel will come to a screeching halt.   But one can never be sure where the money’s actually going….and it bears noting that many of these TV evangelists and their families live lavish lifestyles.   I still remember the news accounts of the air conditioned doghouse and gold plated bathroom fixtures that graced the mansion of Jim and Tammy Bakker, that were paid for by the donations of minimum wage viewers who certainly did not have such things in their own homes, who in fact were barely scraping by.    It likely sounds like I’m being deeply cynical about the televangelists, perhaps offensively so, but I think it’s safe to say that, in many cases, when the TV and radio preachers tell you, “We’re collecting money for this, that, and the other”, the only words you can truly rely on are the first three - “We’re collecting money.”  Beyond those first three words, all bets are off.

It’s easy for me to point fingers.   But, as the saying goes, when you point one’s finger elsewhere, there are three fingers pointing back at you.   Given our current numbers, I’m grateful beyond words that Emanuel Church did not invest money in huge expansions to the church, that Emanuel Church did not develop, to use a pun common in church circles, an edifice complex,  that our lovely but modest building is such that even with our limited resources we can keep it in an adequate state of repair.  But, on this Stewardship Sunday, while I am asking and challenging the members of Emanuel Church – and asking and challenging myself – to be faithful in our giving, I would also ask and challenge us to look at the  ministry of Emanuel Church that is supported by our giving.   What is it that we’re supporting? When you – when I – give to Emanuel Church, in broad brushstrokes, our offerings support the upkeep and insurance on our building, maintenance of our organ, grass cutting and tree trimming for our cemetery,  the removal of snow, ice, and dog dirt from our sidewalks, and stipends for our organist and myself.    These are the material resources that are used by the ministry here.  We also have designated giving  - the Piggy Bank to support the Bridesburg council of churches food cupboard, and the change jar to support the ministries of the Pennsylvania Southeast Conference – which in consequence of yesterday’s Conference meeting will look rather different going forward.   But, to quote the words of the song by Peggy Lee, “Is that all there is?”  When we come to Emanuel Church, are we only coming to see a building, to walk through a cemetery, to hear beautiful organ music, or to hear my not always beautiful preaching?  “Is that all there is?”  

I’m hoping when we come here, we find more than a building, a cemetery, and organ music, and the memories associated with all of these.  I pray that this is a space where together we meet God and God meets us, where we meet each other and share the love that God has given us.  I pray this is a space where children can grow up surrounded by the love of God and the members of the congregation.  I pray this is a space where we are fed, so that we can go forth from this place to bring God’s love to our neighbors.  I pray this is a place where, surrounded by conflict and injustice, we are inspired to work for peace and justice, as part of the calling to which God calls us.

Then [Jesus] called his disciples and said to them, ‘Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.’”  My prayer is that God may multiply our sacrificial giving, the few loaves and fishes we have to offer, to feed the multitudes hungry for a word of hope, hungry for human connection, hungry for an encounter for the divine.  May it be so among us. Amen.

 

God of the Living

(Scriptures:  Ruth 1:1-18; Hebrews11:32-40; Hebrews 12:1-2;   Mark 12:18-34)

 

November 1^st is traditionally All Saints Day.  Since we don’t generally have midweek worship services at Emanuel – not yet, anyway – on the first Sunday in November we remember those loved ones who have gone to be with the Lord, who are now members of the Church Triumphant.    

“No man is an island, entire of itself,” wrote the poet and preacher John Donne.  Each name listed In our bulletin was significant to some family or some individual.  Each person had, not only a name, but a story.  And at some point in the life of each person on the list, their story intersected with the story of someone connected with Emanuel Church.   Many of them are departed parents, aunts, uncles – in at least one case, a child of one of our members.  Two are former pastors of Emanuel Church. Several are departed friends.   Most of those whose names we remember lived in the greater Philadelphia region, although three of the names were for loved ones who lived and died in Liberia.  And so as small as our congregation is, the lives of our members, directly or indirectly, touch a surprising number of other lives, far more than we can imagine.

Indeed, when you add to the names in our bulletin the names of those whose remains rest in our cemetery, our church finds itself connected with people across the country.    Just from the cemetery inquiries I’ve received in the five or so years I’ve been here, I have an informal email list called “Friends of the Emanuel Church Cemetery”,  to whom I send our newsletter.   While about half of these folks live in Philadelphia and the surrounding suburbs, two  of these families are from New Jersey; one is in Atlanta, Georgia; one person has recently moved to Illinois; two are from California.   And then there are our friends from the Bethany Children’s Home alumni association – while most are local, one family lives in Virginia.  And then there are our former members, living in Kentucky, New York, New Jersey, Oklahoma.....

    “No man is an island, entire of itself 
    Every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.    
    If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less. 
   As well as if a promontory were,  as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were…..”

 John Donne used images of islands and continents, but with reference to our Scripture readings this morning, perhaps the image of a lengthy chain or of a net would be more fitting.  Since John Donne has been dead for over 450 years, perhaps he won’t mind if I adapt his poem a bit:  “No one is a link, entire of itself.  Every person is a link in the chain.  If a link be detached, the chain is shortened thereby.”  Or perhaps, “No one is a thread, entire of itself.  Every person is a strand in a great net.  If a strand be broken, the net is weakened thereby.”

Our reading from the Book of Ruth show the importance of our connectedness to other people.   At one time, before the main events in the book of Ruth took place, Naomi was living in the land of Moab with her husband Elimilech, and they had two sons, Mahlon and Chilion – which names mean, respectively, “Sickly” and “Frail” – a bit of foreshadowing.  The sickly and frail sons take Moabite wives, one named Orpah and the other named Ruth.  The husbands, sickly and frail, die, leaving Naomi with two Moabite daughters in law.  Naomi pleads with the daughters in law to return to their own families, as their family connections would surely offer more than anything Naomi had to offer.  Orpah followed Naomi’s advice, but Ruth valued her connectedness to Naomi so much that she went with Naomi to Bethlehem.  As it turns out, Naomi’s remaining connections to her extended family wind up being sufficient to provide, not only food, but eventually a husband for Ruth, named Boaz, and descendents for the whole family.   And – a bit of a spoiler for next week – at the end of the book of Ruth, we learn that the child of Ruth and Boaz will end up being the grandfather of King David.  And since Jesus was descended from David’s line, this story has significance for us as well.   Could Naomi and Ruth, widowed and struggling for survival, have had any idea how God would use their lives?  A lovely story about God providing for a family of peasants hit hard by tragedy…..but how different our faith would be without this link in the chain.
   
   No man is an island, entire of itself.
   Every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.
   If  a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less.
    As well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were…..”
   Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind  
    And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”

The bell has tolled for those whose names are listed in our bulletin. As Donne wrote, “Any man’s death diminishes me”, and our lives are indeed diminished by our loved ones’ passing.   In some cases, we may feel such strong connection to our loved one that when he or she died, in our grief and sorrow, it seemed like a piece of us died with them.   And yet one of the central affirmations of our faith is that our God is the God of the living, that our loved ones are still alive with God, that the God they worshipped in this life remains their God now that they have passed from this life.   Our loved ones are alive with God, and we shall see them again when we go to meet the Lord.     The writer of Hebrews tells of some of the links in the great chain of faith – Abel, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Rahab, Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, Samuel, David, the prophets….[and parenthetically, I would add our departed loved ones to the list]….and then goes on to say, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.”  Our loved ones are among that great cloud of witnesses who encourage and support us, cheering from the stands, as it were, for us who are still on our pilgrimage through life.  We feebly struggle; they in glory shine.

Our Gospel reading not only affirms that the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob is God of the living – and thereby affirms that in God they are alive – but also names that which binds the chain of faith together – love of God and love of neighbor.  And love of neighbor is inseparable from love of God  - as is written in I John 4:20, anyone who says  “I loves God”  but hates their brother or sister,  that person is a liar.  John Donne wrote “Any man’s death diminishes me” – any man’s- or woman’s – or child’s - death – the death of a stranger, even the death of an enemy – diminishes me.  God is the God of the living, and God’s intention for us is life, abundant life in this world and eternal life in the world to come.   In order to serve this life-giving God, we ourselves are called to act in ways that are lifegiving.   We can affirm, with John Donne, “I am involved in humankind.”  We are to care not only for our supporters but for our opponents; not only for friends, but for strangers and even enemies.     

The book of Ruth gives an example of love and care God would have us show, not only for our family and friends, but for neighbors, strangers, even aliens (i.e. what we would call immigrants).  On their return from the foreign country of Moab to Bethlehem, the way in which Ruth the Moabite and Naomi her Jewish mother-in-law survived was from Ruth’s gleaning grain from the field of Boaz.  The institution of gleaning was an ancient form of a social safety net instituted in the law of Moses and practiced in both Old and New Testament times.  Leviticus 23:22 commands:  “When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap to the very edges of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest; you shall leave them for the poor and for the alien.  I am the Lord your God.”  And so even in that ancient culture, God affirmed that human life is connected; we do not just live and die for ourselves, but we are to make provision for the poor and for the alien.  In the gospel of Mark, 2^nd chapter, we’re told at one point that Jesus and his disciples were passing through the grainfields and plucked some of the heads of grain.  They weren’t grainfields that belonged to Jesus or his disciples - and so Jesus himself, along with his disciples practiced gleaning in this instance and in this small instance relied on the social safety net of the day. 

Our mothers and fathers of the faith here at Emanuel Church likewise cared for the poor and alien.  Of course, we know of how Bethany Children’s Home, founded to care for Civil War orphans, had its start here at Emanuel.  Some of you have shared stories of the care this congregation provided in years past.  And in these difficult economic times, we continue to support the food cupboard and the ministries of the Pennsylvania Southeast Conference.

So as we remember and celebrate the lives of our departed loved ones, may we honor the lives of the departed by honoring our connections to the living – our connections to the network of families with connections to our church, our connections to our neighbors here in Bridesburg, our connections to the poor and dispossessed, and our connections to the wider church.   As we are grateful for the love shown to us by our departed family members, may we love and serve God and neighbor in such a way that someday others will remember the ministries of this congregation, and our own individual acts of love, with gratitude.   Most of all, may we love and serve God and neighbor in such a way that when the bell tolls for us, God will welcome us into eternity with the blessed words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”  Amen. 

 

Always Reforming

(Scriptures:       Job 42:1-17, Hebrews 7:23-28, Mark 10:46-52)

 

Today is Reformation Sunday.  Reformation Sunday is held on the last Sunday of October, in commemoration of October 31, 1517, the date 495 years ago when Martin Luther, then an Augustinian monk, nailed a list of 95 discussion points, or theses, to the door of the Castle Church in Wittenburg, Germany.  It’s not that Luther had anything against that particular church; Luther lived and taught in Wittenburg, the Castle Church was in a well-travelled area, and posting something there would assure that lots of people got to see it.  Nowadays Luther probably would start a blog, but 495 years ago, of course, he had to go with the technology available at the time.  The full title of Luther’s document was, in Latin, Disputatio pro declaratione virtutis indulgentiarum .  (You can tell I don’t use Latin very much.)  Indulgencies were promises from church authorities on that one’s sins, or that of a designated family member, would be forgiven, and that one’s time in purgatory would thereby be reduced.   One could also gain an indulgence for visiting the relics of a departed saint.  Sales of indulgences were fundraisers for the church, especially for St Peter’s in Rome.  Martin Luther was outraged at the church selling for money the assurances of pardon which were a free gift from God.   Luther had no desire to break from the Roman Catholic church; he only wanted to start a discussion about various practices which he found offensive to his conscience.   But, as often happens, emotions ran high on all sides; the Roman hierarchy was offended at Luther’s questioning of what had been quite a successful fund-raising technique, and dug in their heels.  Luther likewise dug in his heels.  Without going into tedious detail, suffice to say that it wasn’t long before Luther and the Roman hierarchy were hurling anathemas at one another, and Luther was ultimately excommunicated.   Of course, Luther’s teachings continue in the modern-day Evangelical Lutheran Church of America, the Missouri and Wisconsin synods of the Lutheran Church, and I’m sure other expressions of Lutheranism that I can’t think of just now.

While the timing of Reformation Sunday on the church calendar is focused on Luther, there was a lot of theological ferment going on at the time, with lots of dissenting views being expressed.  Our first hymn was written by John Calvin, the Swiss reformer whose theology informs the Presbyterian Church.   Other reformers were Ulrich Zwingli, whose theology informed the German Reformed church, including our congregation.  In short, many theologians felt the Roman church of their day was corrupt, and needed to change – but they had all manner of ideas about what a renewed Roman Catholic church would look like.   In response, the Roman Catholic Church ultimately instituted its own internal reform, which is called the Counter-Reformation. 

Our Gospel reading for this morning is about Jesus’ healing of blind Bartimaeus.  It may seem like a stretch to get from Bartimaeus to Martin Luther, but I’d like to try to make a connection anyway.  Remember that Jesus and his disciples are on the way to Jerusalem.  Today’s reading begins with Jesus and his disciples entering Jericho – and then leaving Jericho.  We’re not given any direct information about what took place there, except that along with Jesus and his disciples were a large crowd – so they must have done something to get their attention – and in a favorable way too, as Jesus and the disciples weren’t being run out of town.   So it would appear they’d led a successful mission in Jericho, and now they – Jesus, the disciples, and the crowd – were departing for Jerusalem.

From Jericho to Jerusalem was 18 miles….and to those traveling, it probably felt like 18 miles straight up.  The road was steep – Jericho was in a valley 250 feet below sea level, while Jerusalem was 2500 feet above sea level.  When Scripture talks about Jesus and his disciples going up to Jerusalem, they literally were going up.  We’re also told that, besides being long and steep, this road was notorious for robbers -    remember that in Luke’s Gospel, the road from Jerusalem to Jericho was the setting of Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan.  So Jesus, the disciples, and a large crowd were not only on a long, steep hike up to Jerusalem, but their long steep hike went through what we’d call a bad neighborhood.   And so, if you or I were walking through what we’d consider an iffy neighborhood, we’d probably be vigilant about our surroundings, and try to get to our destination as expeditiously as possible.  The road from Jericho to Jerusalem wasn’t a place you’d go for a Sunday stroll, not a place to stop and smell the roses or enjoy the scenery, and as you walk, you probably won’t be humming to yourself “It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.” 

As they’re trudging up to Jerusalem, sure enough, they hear a voice shouting from the side of the road.  They’re immediately on guard – “oh, boy, here we go….” they think, but thank goodness, it’s not a robber.  It’s just a beggar, poor blind Bartimaeus, the son of Timaeus.   Somehow despite being blind, he gathered that Jesus was coming, and started hollering out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”  The crowd – and probably the disciples – tell him “Shut up!  Put a sock in it!”  But Bartimaeus isn’t passing up this opportunity.  “Son of David, have mercy on me!” Bartimaeus cries.  And though everyone else is trying to hurry Jesus along, Jesus stops in his tracks and says, “Call him here.”  The crowd tells him – “Ok, Bart, you have your chance, Jesus is calling you.”  He throws off his cloak – I love that detail – and jumps up and makes his way to Jesus.  Jesus asks, “What do you want me to do for you?”  Bartimaeus says, “My teacher, let me see again.”  Jesus says to Bartimaeus, “Go in peace, your faith has made you well.”  We’re told that Bartimaeus immediately regained his sight and – notably – that he followed Jesus on the way.

In reading the Gospel accounts, I sometimes invite us to see where we find ourselves in the story.  On other Sundays, I might find some other points of entry, but on this Reformation Sunday, perhaps we can see the reformers – the Martin Luthers, John Calvins, Ulrich Zwinglis, and all those who have spoken out for change – as being like Bartimaeus on the side of the road, making known those ways in which the church has let them down, the ways they feel alienated from, even abandoned by the community of faith.  The crowd and the disciples – representing the church establishment – respond to the reformers’ agitation as they did to blind Bartimaeus – they try to shut Bartimaeus up.   “Hey Luther, hey Calvin, hey Zwingli, hey Melancthon and Ursinus, shut up!  Put a sock in it!”  Like those other travelers on the Jericho road, the priest and levite from Jesus’ parable, they are absorbed with their own concerns and want to pass by on the other side.  But not Jesus.  Jesus inconveniently brings the procession to a halt and asks, “What do you want me to do for you?”  And when Jesus, rather than the crowd, have their way, the church listens rather than ignores.  When Jesus, rather than the crowd, the church responds in new ways.  Those who were formerly alienated are now included, and they respond by joining the church in traveling in the way of Jesus.  And when Bartimaeus, now healed, is among the followers of Jesus, the group is different than it was before, different because of the presence of Bartimaeus.

One of the mottos of the Reformation was “Ecclesia semper reformanda” – a church always to be reformed, a church always in the process of reforming.  Our last two hymns come from this continuing reformation.  For the life of the church is a pilgrimage, and the spiritual sisters and brothers of Bartimaeus are always on the side of the road, trying to get our attention, crying out for healing.  As the saying goes, when our plans are interrupted, very often God can be found in the interruptions.  Gospel – good news – is often what happens when our plans get interrupted.  The writer of the words of our third hymn, James Russell Lowell, was a poet who used his poetry, among other ways, to support the abolition of slavery.   The words of our final hymn, God of Grace and God of Glory, were written by the Rev. Harry Emerson Fosdick, among the leading progressive pastors of his day, for the dedication of the Riverside Church in New York City.    The Riverside Church is a leading interdenominational church affiliated with several Protestant conditions, including the United Church of Christ - sort of like if all five congregations of the Bridesburg Council of Churches were merged into one large congregation, except the Riverside church would have about 10 times as many members as our five churches combined.  So the Reformation is not only something that happened almost 500 years ago, but continues to this day.  As the spiritual sisters and brothers of Bartimaeus cry from the side of the road, some in the church want to pass by on the other side, while others feel called by Jesus to respond.

I included a diagram – from an old US News and World Report article on religion – that shows the denominations that have come out of these moments when some feel called to stay where they are while others feel called to follow God in a new direction.  Consider that if we were to extend the diagram further to the left, Christianity itself would be shown as a branch coming off Judaism.  And yes, at the other end of the diagram, the United Church of Christ is on there, down toward the bottom.  You’ll notice that the UCC is one of very few places in which two different strands from the tradition come together.  Bringing together disparate traditions seems to be God’s special vocations for the UCC.  Because, after all, Jesus’ prayer for his disciples is that they – that we – would all be one.  The Christian Church is a big dysfunctional family, but a family nonetheless.  In the Apostles Creed, we say, among other things, “I believe in the Holy Catholic Church.”  In this case, Catholic means “universal” – the big-C great church, the universal church of which all our individual churches are a part.   

When [Bartimaeus] learned that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”  Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me.  Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” When our plans are interrupted, often God can be found in the interruptions.  Gospel – good news – is often what happens when our plans are interrupted.   On this Reformation Sunday, I’d ask us to look at the interruptions to our plans, not with annoyance, but with eyes of faith to see what message God may have for us in the interruptions.  May our ears be open to hear the call of Bartimaeus that we encounter in our pilgrimage, and may God give us grace to respond in love.  Amen.

 

Above Our Pay Grade

(Scriptures - Job 38:1-11; Job 40:1-9, Hebrew 5:1-10,  Mark 10:32-45)

 

 

Our Gospel reading this morning reminds me of a famous line from the 1967 movie Cool Hand Luke.  Faced with Luke’s repeated attempts to escape from a prison work detail, a guard addresses Luke with the famous line, “What we have here is a failure to communicate.”   And that’s surely what Jesus was experiencing with his disciples.  In our Gospel readings over the past several weeks, three times, including today’s reading, Jesus tells the disciples that he’s going to have to undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the religious establishment, and be killed, but rise again on the third day.   And all three times, the disciples were clueless. The first time Jesus said this, Peter tried to quiet him down and Jesus told Peter, “Get behind me, Satan.”  A little while later, for a second time Jesus told the disciples that he would be betrayed into human hands, and be killed, and rise again on the third day – and all the while the disciples had been arguing over which one of them was the greatest.  Jesus used that as a teaching moment, told the disciples that “whoever wants to be first of all must be last of all and servant of all” and used a child as an example of how we should approach the reign of God – “whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.”  In today’s Gospel, Jesus goes into more detail – “we’re going to Jerusalem, and the religious establishment will condemn me to death, and then they’ll hand me over to the Gentiles, who will mock me and beat me and kill me, and on the third day I’ll rise again.”  And in response, James and John, among the inner circle of the disciples, come out with a request that, when Jesus came into his glory, he would grant them seats at his right and left hand.  It’s easy to miss as we’re reading Mark’s Gospel a section at a time from Sunday to Sunday, but when you put it all together, it’s really striking, the extent to which the disciples just don’t get it, are just plain stuck in old ways of thinking, just don’t seem to be hearing a thing Jesus is saying.  There’s pathos there, too – Jesus was fully human, and had to be struggling with his own feelings in anticipation of what he knew would befall him in Jerusalem, let alone trying to prepare his disciples for the events to come – and the self-absorption of James and John is just stunning.  “Yeah, yeah, Jesus, you’re going to Jerusalem and be killed….whatever…just make sure you save the first class seats for the two of us after you’ve done all the heavy lifting.” 

 But Jesus is, among other things, infinitely patient.  He once again makes this conversation a teaching moment. Said Jesus to James and John: “You do not know what you’re asking.  Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?”  James and John said, “Yeah, sure thing.” And Jesus told them, “The cup I drink you will drink, and the baptism with which I’m baptized, you will be baptized, but to be at my right and left hand isn’t mine to grant.”  Of course, the other ten disciples catch wind of the request of James and John and go ballistic.  So Jesus sits them all down and tells them – “You know how business is done among the Gentiles.  Among you it’s the opposite – whoever wishes to be great among you must serve you, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be the slave of all.”  And Jesus tells them to follow his example – “For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”

 From where we sit, having heard Jesus’ teachings over many years – to the point where it almost blends with the organ music into a kind of religious background noise, it’s easy to sit back and criticize James and John, and all the disciples.  How could anyone be so clueless?  But I think it’s important to step back and realize how truly revolutionary Jesus’ words were for his followers – and how revolutionary they can be for us. Think how the photos of the moon and especially the photos of earth from the early Apollo space missions revolutionized our view of our place in the universe. Think of how revolutionary data technology, the internet and social media have been for folks like me who began our careers keeping books on green fourteen-column ledger paper – can you even buy that stuff anymore? - who grew up getting news from three big networks – ABC, NBC, and CBS – and who, if we moved from one place to another, resigned ourselves to losing contact with our old friends.  It’s not just an incremental change, but rather it’s a paradigm shift, an extreme makeover of one’s world view, a complete transformation in one’s basic assumptions about reality. 

The Book of Job gives us a sense of what a religious paradigm shift looks like.  Job, despite his innocence and moral rectitude, has been allowed by God to experience great loss and affliction. Job’s friends become increasingly locked into a position of insisting that, well, God is punishing Job, so Job must be guilty of something.  Job becomes increasingly locked into a position of self-justification, of defending his innocence and daring God to come down how and explain Godself to Job.  And then God steps into the picture and expands Job’s field of vision, giving him a God’s eye view of the world, rattling off one after another the wonders of creation – “see that strange and wondrous creature – I made that…here’s another strange and wondrous creature – yeah, I made that too – cool, huh?”, reminding Job that God commands a huge cosmic reality of which Job is only a minute part.  Job had been complaining of matters far above his pay grade, so to speak.  Faced with this change of perspective, Job says, “See, I am of small account; what shall I answer you? I lay my hand upon my mouth.”

 In our Gospel reading, Jesus’ words present just about that drastic a paradigm shift, just that drastic a change in perspective about social reality. Jesus’ words are an accurate critique of the social order of the Roman Empire.  Social relations in the Roman Empire were very hierarchical.  There were a small number of very wealthy, powerful people at the top of society, the emperor and his family, the elite, who acted as patrons to a somewhat larger circle of folks who were clients of the emperor, part of the emperor’s retinue or entourage.  For example, King Herod and his family, whom we read about at various points in the Gospel, were clients of the Roman emperor. These clients depended on the generosity of the emperor, and when the emperor snapped his fingers, the client jumped.  These members of the emperor’s circle of clients, in turn, acted as patrons to other, still less influential clients, and so forth down the line, until at the bottom was a large peasant class, barely hanging on.  One person at the top could pull the strings of people all the way down the social pyramid.  One’s livelihood, the survival of one’s family, depended not so much on what a person knew, but on who a person knew. Power was about having the right connections. And so people were heavily motivated to connect themselves to more powerful people, to try to gain the protection of a more powerful person and in return act in that more powerful person’s interests.  And so from that point of view, from that paradigm, it’s easy to understand why James and John behaved as they did.  They saw Jesus as a person who would some day be powerful, to whom they would cozy up in order eventually to gain power for themselves.  It wasn’t that they were uniquely bad people, but rather that they and the other disciples literally couldn’t think beyond what they knew to imagine any other way of behaving. They knew how the Empire’s game was played, and they could imagine no other kind of game. And of course the other disciples were angry with James and John for what the two of them had done – only because James and John had thought of it before the rest of them had.

 Jesus turns this paradigm upside-down – and again, while we may be familiar with Jesus’ words, for the disciples of Jesus, this must have left their jaws dropping and clattering on the ground.  “Whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be the first among you must be slave of all.” Jesus taught that among his disciples, one did not become great by ingratiating oneself to a Roman senator or a member of the religious hierarchy, but by welcoming a child in Christ’s name.  One did not become great by barking out orders, but by offering a cup of cold water in Christ’s name.  One did not become great by lopping off peoples’ heads, but by washing their feet.  One did not become great by cozying up to the powerful, but by serving the powerless. 

 This ethos of service carries into the church today – at least in rhetoric, and sometimes even in reality.  One of the self-descriptions of the Popes has been “Servant of the Servants of God” – though most servants don’t have quite the range of fashion options the Pope has.  Likewise in the more hierarchical Protestant churches, those in the religious hierarchy see themselves as serving their constituent churches – though the folks in the pews may sometimes experience their actions differently.  In the United Church of Christ, we’re somewhat allergic to titles – those who preside over the local and regional judicatories during their terms of office carry the title moderator rather than president, and see themselves as serving – not commanding – the congregations that make up the wider church.

At a very basic level, in a world in which everyone around was and is asking “What’s in it for me,” in our Gospel reading, the message of Jesus to his disciples in today’s Gospel reading is, “Get over yourselves!  It’s not about you!  It’s not about your ego, not about your need to take credit and be recognized, not about your need for security and control.  It’s about humbly loving God and humbly being of service to others, and humbly following where the Spirit leads. It’s about the church acting like the church and not like the world.”  And Jesus not only spoke, but led by example – in his own words, Jesus came, not to be served, but to serve, and to offer his life a ransom for many.  Jesus knew that right from the outset of his ministry. By contrast with the disciples’ request for special seating at Jesus’ right and left hands in glory, on the cross, Jesus had no control even over who would be crucified at his right and at his left, but acted even in that moment as servant and ransom, saying to one of them, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”  For us, it’s a much slower process, a lifelong process.  I thought that old, but unfamiliar – unfamiliar to me at least - hymn we sang gave us a picture of what the process looks like.  I think we all start out life focused on “All of self and none of thee”.  Perhaps by God’s grace we move to “Some of self and some of thee” and maybe even to “Less of self and more of thee.”  This side of eternity, I don’t think any of us ever quite get to the place of “None of self and all of thee” but if we get ourselves out of the way, if we can, as the saying goes, “let go and let God,” we will find ourselves more and more receptive to the leading of the Spirit – with lives that may be unpredictable, that may feel at moments like walking on thin ice, but with much more freedom than we can possibly imagine when we insist on being in control.  It’s not about being a doormat – indeed, we may be called to stand boldly and speak God’s truth to entrenched, corrupt power.  It is, though, about realizing that our lives are inescapably connected to the lives of those less fortunate, no matter how we try to forget – and that since our lives are connected, we must be sensitive to the leading of the Spirit in how to live out those connections as children of God. To the extent we are willing to serve others, we partner with God to create a world that’s better for everyone, including ourselves. This is perhaps some of what Jesus meant when he said, “Those who want to save their lives will lose them, and those who lose their lives for my sake and the sake of the good news will save them. 

Outside the church, Jesus’ message continues to be a radical witness to the world.  Of course, our society is very different from that of the Roman empire – though perhaps not as different as we might think.  Our country wields global power on a scale Rome couldn’t imagine.  Our society is becoming increasingly stratified by class, with the wealthy living in gated communities while the poor are being foreclosed out of their homes and tossed out on the streets.  We live in a country of coin-operated politicians across the political spectrum and coin-operated media all across the dial, who spend their days delivering the messages and serving the interests of the fabulously wealthy who fund them.  We even have coin-operated religious leaders who, in order to gain funding for their religious enterprises, comfort the overly comfortable no matter how much affliction is brought on the already-afflicted.  When, in the words of the song from the musical Cabaret, “money makes the world go around”, Jesus points the way to a different reality, the reign of God, where the coin of the realm is not “a mark, a yen, a buck or a pound” – but love and service, doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with God. 

Last Sunday after the Bible study, on the way out the door, I handed out copies of an interview with Shane Claiborne, founder of the Simple Way, an evangelical community with locations here in Philadelphia who model their life on the description of the early church in the book of Acts, what Claiborne calls a “new monasticism”, sharing their possessions and living among the very poor.  I have a few copies downstairs for those who weren’t here, which you’re welcome to take along.  I’d like to end my sermon with the question that was used as the title of the interview, a haunting question in light of today’s Gospel reading:  “What if Jesus really meant all that stuff?”  What if?  May we in our common life as the congregation of Emanuel Church act on the basis that, indeed, Jesus really did mean all that stuff.  And may we act in ways that not only tell our neighbors, but show our neighbors, our answers to the question, “What would Jesus do?” Amen.