(Scriptures: Genesis 1:1-5, Acts 19:1-7, Mark 1:4-11)
This Sunday, after detours into the Gospels of Luke and Matthew, we return to Mark’s Gospel, where we will spend much of the coming year. Mark’s Gospel is thought to have been the first of the four Gospels to have been written, from which Matthew and Luke drew much of their material. Mark’s is a fast-moving Gospel, portraying Jesus as a man of action. English translations smooth out the language, but the original Greek reads like a story told by an excited child: Jesus did this, and right away Jesus did that, and then right away Jesus said this, and then right away Jesus said that. The Greek phrase “kai euthus” – “and immediately” or “and right away” – occurs over and over. Mark’s Gospel catches the spirit of what it must have felt like to have been a disciple of Jesus, to be have been caught up among those who followed Jesus during his earthly ministry – Jesus does and says one amazing thing after another, and as the readers of Mark’s Gospel, we stand by watching, with our mouths hanging open in amazement.
Today’s reading is no exception. For one thing, we’ve fast-forwarded from the time of Jesus’ birth until Jesus was about 30 years old. We begin by meeting John the Baptist in the wilderness, that strange character who dressed in camel’s hair with a leather belt and eating locusts – bugs – and wild honey. His appearance brings up historic memories for his listeners. If we were to see someone at Independence Hall dressed in a colonial costume reading from parchment, we would be reminded of the American revolution – and in the same way, John’s dress reminds the crowds of Elijah. Luke’s Gospel tells us that John’s father was a priest at the Temple in Jerusalem, but John is out in the wilderness, far away from the religious establishment of the day, indeed, offering an alternative to the religious establishment – and at the Jordan River, where Joshua long ago had led the Hebrews from the wilderness through the Jordan and into the promised land, into the land of freedom. Mark’s Gospel tells us that crowds of people from the countryside and even from Jerusalem were coming out to see John, to confess their sins and be baptized by John. Mark gives us a picture of a people who are spiritually hungry, who are not being fed spiritually by the rituals of the Temple and the teaching of the established religious leaders, who are willing to travel long distances on foot and far out of their comfort zone in the chance that John will give them something, anything to hold on to.
We think of baptism primarily as a Christian ritual, but Christian baptism had its origin in the Jewish mikveh, a ritual bath. Jews took such a ritual bath as a rite of purification after some event had occurred to make them ritually impure. Orthodox and Conservative Jews continue the practice to this day, the Orthodox Jews so much so that a newly-gathered community is instructed to build a mikveh for the ritual bath before building the synagogue. So John’s baptism would have been like a washing from sin, a fresh start. The mikveh or ritual bath was also a rite of conversion, by which Gentiles were purified before joining the Jewish community. What is striking is that those coming to be baptized by John were already Jews – but the unsatisfying practices of the religious establishment left them feeling defiled and alienated from God. John’s baptism offered a radical way to re-connect to their faith.
So Mark sets the stage – John out in the wilderness leading a renewal movement which attracted Jews from all over. And John says that he is only preparing the way for the coming of one who will be greater than John. John says that he is not worthy to tie this person’s shoelaces. In other words, John tells his followers, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
And then along comes Jesus. John baptizes him – this would have been full immersion baptism, Jesus down in the muddy water of the Jordan - and Jesus sees the heavens torn open – the sense of this is that the heavens were in some way ripped apart - and the Holy Spirit coming down like a dove. He hears a voice from heaven, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well-pleased.”
This is a turning point in Jesus’ life. The other Gospels tell us that up until this point, he was the carpenter’s son, not seen by most people as anyone special. Those in Jesus’ hometown assumed he would grow up and take over his father’s business and that would be that. But Jesus, following the leading of the Spirit, makes the long journey on foot out into the wilderness to see John the Baptist. With his baptism, Jesus’ life goes off in a radically new direction. Although we won’t read about it until we begin Lent, we know that after Jesus baptism he was tested in the wilderness, and after John was arrested, began to proclaim the coming of the Reign of God. At Jesus’ baptism, the heavens were ripped apart, and God broke into the moment. Jesus’ miracles, healings, teaching were all ways in which Jesus not only proclaimed the Reign of God, but demonstrated God breaking in to take on the powers of evil.
What sustained Jesus through all that he faced throughout his life – testing in the wilderness, the exhaustion that came with ministering to the crowds, the frustration of dealing with his disciples, the emotional stress of confrontation and opposition from the religious establishment? What kept him from crashing and burning? We know that he spent frequent time in prayer, often going off alone to pray. But perhaps part of what kept him going was this moment of baptism, this moment of seeing the heavens ripped apart, of being equipped with the gift of the Holy Spirit, of hearing the voice of God name him as God’s beloved Son. While many of us were baptized as infants and may not remember our baptism, we too can be sustained by the knowledge that, in baptism, God has claimed each of us and called each of us beloved daughters and sons. In words from the funeral service, we remember that we are baptized into Christ’s death so that just as we share a death like Christ’s, we will also share a resurrection like Christ’s. Just as Jesus was equipped at his baptism with the Holy Spirit, so those being baptized are told, “receive the Holy Spirit, child of God, disciple of Christ, member of Christ’s church.”
Like Jesus, we may experience grief, anger, frustration, loneliness. Like Jesus on the cross, there are those moments when we feel so overwhelmed that we say, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me.” In those moments, our baptism reminds us that God will never abandon us. The words of the old Heidelberg Catechism that our older members grew up with, we’re told that our only comfort, in life and in death, is that we belong, body and soul, in life and in death, not to ourselves, but to our faithful Savior, Jesus Christ - who through the waters of baptism has claimed us for his very own.
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
A Divine Do-Over
(Scriptures: Acts 2:14a, 22-32
I Peter 1:3-9 John 20:19-31)
This morning’s Gospel reading tells of one of the most famous of Jesus’ appearances after the resurrection, namely, his appearance to Thomas. In a sense, though, today’s account of Jesus’ post-resurrection appearance is sort of a two-fer: buy one, get one free – because Jesus actually appears to the disciples twice. We’re told that on the evening of the resurrection, the apostles were all locked away behind closed doors, for fear of the religious authorities. For some unspecified reason, Thomas was not with them. Jesus appeared to them, showing them his hands, which bore the print of the nails, and his side, where the soldier’s spear had pierced. After this appearance, when Jesus was no longer with them, Thomas showed up. The disciples are all bursting to tell him “we’ve seen the Lord we’ve seen the Lord oh my goodness we’ve seen the Lord.” It was then that Thomas told the disciples “Unless I feel the print of the nail and put my hand in his side, I will not believe.” It is from this story that the disciple gets his nickname “doubting Thomas”. A week later, the scene repeats: same disciples, hiding in the same room behind the same locked door for the same reason: fear of the religious authorities. The only difference is, this time Thomas is with them. And once again, Jesus appears, and shows his wounds to Thomas as he had to the other disciples. Jesus invites Thomas to touch them, but we’re not told that Thomas actually did. Thomas cries out, “My Lord and my God.” It was then that Jesus says, “Do you believe because you have seen? Blessed are they who have not seen, and yet have believed.”
Thomas has the reputation for being a doubter, but I think it’s actually a bad rap. While the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke just name Thomas as one of the disciples, with no other information given, John’s Gospel fleshes out our picture of Thomas a bit. Thomas pops up two other times in John’s Gospel, once when Jesus was returning to Judea to visit Mary, Martha and Lazarus – Jesus had just escaped a crowd that wanted to stone him, and the disciples were questioning why Jesus would ever want to go back there, but Thomas bravely said, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” And at the Last Supper, Thomas’s question about the way to where Jesus was going led to Jesus’ declaration, “I am the way and the truth and the life.” So in John’s Gospel at least, Thomas wasn’t any kind of problem child disciple – he’s shown to have courage and to be theologically engaged with Jesus, willing to risk asking a question if Jesus is talking over his head. And in today’s reading, Thomas essentially had the same encounter with the risen Christ that the other disciples did – it just happened a week later. While this Scripture has a very explicit lesson for the readers of John’s Gospels – essentially, blessed are those who read this book and believe and are willing to stake your life on what’s written there – I think there’s also a subtle lesson about the nature of God’s love.
Jesus could very well have limited himself to just that first appearance to the disciples, the one when Thomas was absent. He could have left a message with the disciples for Thomas: hey, you had your chance, but you were out to lunch when I appeared. Or maybe you’d gone fishing. Or maybe you needed your beauty sleep. You snooze, you lose. But that’s not what Jesus did – instead, Jesus patiently waited a week and did a do-over of his earlier appearance, just for Thomas. The wording of the gospel is the same in both appearances, except for Jesus’ additional words to Thomas. In golf, if you take a really bad swing and your fellow golfers are forgiving, they may allow you to do the shot over, to take a mulligan. And in a sense, Jesus allowed Thomas a mulligan. God allowed a divine do-over of the appearance of Jesus just for Thomas’ sake. That’s how much Jesus loved Thomas, and that’s how important Thomas was to God’s plan for the disciples.
How about us? I think all of us need a do-over, a mulligan, now and then, not only in golf, but in life. Sometimes we’re not where we need to be when God is doing a great work. Sometimes we miss the boat. We don’t always understand immediately or get everything right the first time – far from it. But we worship a God of the second chance, a God who welcomes seekers whether they come early or late in life. We know so many stories: the parable of the prodigal son, coming home to ask his dad for another chance. Paul on the Damascus road, his life turned around to witness to the Christ whose church he had earlier tried to stamp out. God patiently waited for Paul to be in the place where God could reach him with a vision of the risen Christ. God seeks out the lost sheep and the lost coin, and when found brings them home rejoicing.
People come to Christ in different ways and at different times in their lives. Many – I suspect most of Emanuel’s long-time members, were raised in the church, were brought to Jesus as children and blessed. Fifty years ago, that was the norm. But not today. But not everyone finds Christ in that way. Some come to Jesus via a conversion experience, via a prayer for salvation that emerges out of some deep crisis. Some come to Jesus as a way to find deeper meaning to life or connection with others. Some come to Jesus early in life, and some come later. I’ve experienced that myself, as a fifty-year old answering a call after I’m already midway into a career in health care finance, well into middle age, sitting next to 20-somethings just out of college, responding to that same call. But nobody comes to Christ, whom Christ does not call first. At the Last Supper, Jesus told his disciples, “You did not choose me, but I chose you.” And when God chooses us, God waits for us, waits until we are ready for an encounter with Christ – be that in infancy, in childhood, in adulthood, in old age, or even on our deathbed. And we as Emanuel Church need to be ready to welcome those whom God chooses, no matter where they are on life’s journey when they find us.
Jesus told the disciples that he had chosen them so that the would go and bear much fruit. And, indeed, Thomas was more than faithful, more than diligent on this point. While we don’t read much more about Thomas in the Bible other than a brief mention in the book of Acts, there’s a very strong tradition that the Apostle Thomas brought the Gospel to India, specifically to a community of Jews living in a part of India called Kerela. Most Indian Christians trace their faith in some way through the Apostle Thomas. And we have two such congregations in Philadelphia affiliated with the United Church of Christ, including one whose members all came from Kerela, where Thomas was first said to have brought the Gospel. So the outcomes of Jesus’ calling Thomas to faith are not just long ago and far away, but are alive, to this day, in the UCC, in Philadelphia.
There’s one other point in our reading from John’s Gospel, a powerful point, but mentioned so briefly that we can miss it while we’re waiting to hear about Thomas. When Jesus appeared to the disciples, John tells us, Jesus breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” In essence, these words, brief as they are, constitute John’s Pentecost story, John’s story of the coming of the Holy Spirit, and the conferral of apostolic authority on the eleven disciples. In contrast to Luke’s account of the sound of a mighty wind and tongues of flame and the disciples speaking in foreign tongues, John’s account of the conferring of the Holy Spirit is quiet, possible to miss if you’re not looking for it. In fact, this sentence “Receive the Holy Spirit” is part of the sacrament of baptism, but again, it can go by so quickly we can miss it.
Today we will be celebrating both Sacraments – baptism and holy communion. May we be attentive for God’s presence, during this holy moment in our church’s history.
*****************
Feel the need for a do-over in your relationship with God? Join us for worship at Emanuel United Church of Christ on Sundays at 10 a.m. We're on Fillmore Street (between Thompson and Almond). www.emanuelphila.org
I Peter 1:3-9 John 20:19-31)
This morning’s Gospel reading tells of one of the most famous of Jesus’ appearances after the resurrection, namely, his appearance to Thomas. In a sense, though, today’s account of Jesus’ post-resurrection appearance is sort of a two-fer: buy one, get one free – because Jesus actually appears to the disciples twice. We’re told that on the evening of the resurrection, the apostles were all locked away behind closed doors, for fear of the religious authorities. For some unspecified reason, Thomas was not with them. Jesus appeared to them, showing them his hands, which bore the print of the nails, and his side, where the soldier’s spear had pierced. After this appearance, when Jesus was no longer with them, Thomas showed up. The disciples are all bursting to tell him “we’ve seen the Lord we’ve seen the Lord oh my goodness we’ve seen the Lord.” It was then that Thomas told the disciples “Unless I feel the print of the nail and put my hand in his side, I will not believe.” It is from this story that the disciple gets his nickname “doubting Thomas”. A week later, the scene repeats: same disciples, hiding in the same room behind the same locked door for the same reason: fear of the religious authorities. The only difference is, this time Thomas is with them. And once again, Jesus appears, and shows his wounds to Thomas as he had to the other disciples. Jesus invites Thomas to touch them, but we’re not told that Thomas actually did. Thomas cries out, “My Lord and my God.” It was then that Jesus says, “Do you believe because you have seen? Blessed are they who have not seen, and yet have believed.”
Thomas has the reputation for being a doubter, but I think it’s actually a bad rap. While the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke just name Thomas as one of the disciples, with no other information given, John’s Gospel fleshes out our picture of Thomas a bit. Thomas pops up two other times in John’s Gospel, once when Jesus was returning to Judea to visit Mary, Martha and Lazarus – Jesus had just escaped a crowd that wanted to stone him, and the disciples were questioning why Jesus would ever want to go back there, but Thomas bravely said, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” And at the Last Supper, Thomas’s question about the way to where Jesus was going led to Jesus’ declaration, “I am the way and the truth and the life.” So in John’s Gospel at least, Thomas wasn’t any kind of problem child disciple – he’s shown to have courage and to be theologically engaged with Jesus, willing to risk asking a question if Jesus is talking over his head. And in today’s reading, Thomas essentially had the same encounter with the risen Christ that the other disciples did – it just happened a week later. While this Scripture has a very explicit lesson for the readers of John’s Gospels – essentially, blessed are those who read this book and believe and are willing to stake your life on what’s written there – I think there’s also a subtle lesson about the nature of God’s love.
Jesus could very well have limited himself to just that first appearance to the disciples, the one when Thomas was absent. He could have left a message with the disciples for Thomas: hey, you had your chance, but you were out to lunch when I appeared. Or maybe you’d gone fishing. Or maybe you needed your beauty sleep. You snooze, you lose. But that’s not what Jesus did – instead, Jesus patiently waited a week and did a do-over of his earlier appearance, just for Thomas. The wording of the gospel is the same in both appearances, except for Jesus’ additional words to Thomas. In golf, if you take a really bad swing and your fellow golfers are forgiving, they may allow you to do the shot over, to take a mulligan. And in a sense, Jesus allowed Thomas a mulligan. God allowed a divine do-over of the appearance of Jesus just for Thomas’ sake. That’s how much Jesus loved Thomas, and that’s how important Thomas was to God’s plan for the disciples.
How about us? I think all of us need a do-over, a mulligan, now and then, not only in golf, but in life. Sometimes we’re not where we need to be when God is doing a great work. Sometimes we miss the boat. We don’t always understand immediately or get everything right the first time – far from it. But we worship a God of the second chance, a God who welcomes seekers whether they come early or late in life. We know so many stories: the parable of the prodigal son, coming home to ask his dad for another chance. Paul on the Damascus road, his life turned around to witness to the Christ whose church he had earlier tried to stamp out. God patiently waited for Paul to be in the place where God could reach him with a vision of the risen Christ. God seeks out the lost sheep and the lost coin, and when found brings them home rejoicing.
People come to Christ in different ways and at different times in their lives. Many – I suspect most of Emanuel’s long-time members, were raised in the church, were brought to Jesus as children and blessed. Fifty years ago, that was the norm. But not today. But not everyone finds Christ in that way. Some come to Jesus via a conversion experience, via a prayer for salvation that emerges out of some deep crisis. Some come to Jesus as a way to find deeper meaning to life or connection with others. Some come to Jesus early in life, and some come later. I’ve experienced that myself, as a fifty-year old answering a call after I’m already midway into a career in health care finance, well into middle age, sitting next to 20-somethings just out of college, responding to that same call. But nobody comes to Christ, whom Christ does not call first. At the Last Supper, Jesus told his disciples, “You did not choose me, but I chose you.” And when God chooses us, God waits for us, waits until we are ready for an encounter with Christ – be that in infancy, in childhood, in adulthood, in old age, or even on our deathbed. And we as Emanuel Church need to be ready to welcome those whom God chooses, no matter where they are on life’s journey when they find us.
Jesus told the disciples that he had chosen them so that the would go and bear much fruit. And, indeed, Thomas was more than faithful, more than diligent on this point. While we don’t read much more about Thomas in the Bible other than a brief mention in the book of Acts, there’s a very strong tradition that the Apostle Thomas brought the Gospel to India, specifically to a community of Jews living in a part of India called Kerela. Most Indian Christians trace their faith in some way through the Apostle Thomas. And we have two such congregations in Philadelphia affiliated with the United Church of Christ, including one whose members all came from Kerela, where Thomas was first said to have brought the Gospel. So the outcomes of Jesus’ calling Thomas to faith are not just long ago and far away, but are alive, to this day, in the UCC, in Philadelphia.
There’s one other point in our reading from John’s Gospel, a powerful point, but mentioned so briefly that we can miss it while we’re waiting to hear about Thomas. When Jesus appeared to the disciples, John tells us, Jesus breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” In essence, these words, brief as they are, constitute John’s Pentecost story, John’s story of the coming of the Holy Spirit, and the conferral of apostolic authority on the eleven disciples. In contrast to Luke’s account of the sound of a mighty wind and tongues of flame and the disciples speaking in foreign tongues, John’s account of the conferring of the Holy Spirit is quiet, possible to miss if you’re not looking for it. In fact, this sentence “Receive the Holy Spirit” is part of the sacrament of baptism, but again, it can go by so quickly we can miss it.
Today we will be celebrating both Sacraments – baptism and holy communion. May we be attentive for God’s presence, during this holy moment in our church’s history.
*****************
Feel the need for a do-over in your relationship with God? Join us for worship at Emanuel United Church of Christ on Sundays at 10 a.m. We're on Fillmore Street (between Thompson and Almond). www.emanuelphila.org
Sunday, March 13, 2011
What A Friend!
(Scriptures: Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7, Psalm 32, Romans 5:12-19 Matthew 4:1-11)
Today is the first Sunday in Lent, those forty days each year in which we follow Jesus on his journey to the cross. It’s a time to shut out the world’s distractions, and focus on Jesus, so that, having been refreshed in our time with Jesus, we are renewed to return to the world to share God’s love through our words and actions. As Jesus spent 40 days alone in the desert, pondering the call he heard from God, so are we to draw apart and consider the calling to which God has called each of us, and the calling to which God has called this faith community called Emanuel Church.
We aren’t given a lot of detail about what Jesus was doing out in the desert. This morning’s reading from Matthew’s Gospel takes place immediately after Jesus’ baptism, when, as John was baptizing him, the spirit came down like a dove, and a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the beloved, in whom I am well pleased.” Then we’re told that the Spirit led him into the desert for forty days, to be tempted by the devil. Matthew’s Gospel brings out parallels between Jesus’ experience and that of Moses, and today’s reading is no exception; in Matthew’s telling, Jesus’ 40 days in the wilderness parallel the 40 years of Moses’ and Israel’s wandering in the wilderness – except where Israel and even Moses ultimately fell short, Jesus overcame temptation and remained faithful to God.
Twice, the devil introduces the question, ‘If you are the Son of God….’ After the affirmation of love that Jesus experienced at his baptism, with the voice from heaven calling Jesus God’s Son, the Beloved…now, after Jesus has been out baking in the heat of the desert for 40 days, growing hungrier by the minute, the devil introduces doubt. If you are the Son of God, turn these stones into bread. If you are the Son of God, throw yourself off this mountain so that God will bear you up. If you are the Son of God. If. Are you sure that voice of love you heard at your baptism was God’s voice? Maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe you dreamed the whole thing. Giving into those doubts, giving into that “if” would lead to distance between Jesus and the Father.
The three temptations themselves – to turn stones into bread, to force God into a display of power, to gain political power at the cost of turning from God – on one level, are outside our experience. They seem like decisions we will never face. After all, I can’t snap my fingers and turn stones into bread, and I suspect you can’t either. And yet, in overcoming all these temptations, Jesus must define what his ministry will be about. Will Jesus use his powers to benefit others, or himself? Will his ministry be about humbly serving those in need, or dazzling others with flashy displays of power? Will Jesus be a Savior, or an earthly dictator? In all these encounters with the devil, Jesus is being tempted to make his ministry smaller than God intends, to make his ministry about himself rather than others. Three times, the devil offers Jesus a chance to save his life, rather than lose it. Three times, the devil offers Jesus an easy short-cut to glory that bypasses the cross.
Our Old Testament reading from Genesis shows the consequence of doubting God’s goodness and trying to take shortcuts to fulfillment. Adam and Eve lived in the Garden, in communion with God, with all their needs met. It was the voice of the serpent that introduced doubts – “Did God say, you cannot eat of any tree in the Garden…..If you eat from the fruit of the forbidden tree, you will not die, but rather your eyes will be opened and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” They ate, and in their new awareness of their nakedness before God and one another, they hid. Where there had been close communion between God and humans, now there was shame and alienation; humans hid from God.
So, in a sense, our lectionary, by putting the Genesis story of the fall alongside the story of Jesus temptation in the wilderness, underscores that Jesus overcame the temptation that defeated Adam and Eve. In Genesis, in the garden, the tempter succeeded in breaking the communion between God and humankind. In the wilderness, the tempter tried the same thing - tried to introduce doubt and distance and alienation between Jesus and the Father, tried to induce Jesus to bypass the painful way of the cross – but Jesus stood firm.
These are temptations all of us face as individuals, and that we face as the church, the body of Christ. Every one of us goes through wilderness periods in our lives, when the earthly comforts that normally sustain us, are taken away. How will we respond? Will we follow the advice of Job’s wife to “curse God and die?” Will we take shortcuts to try to regain the comfort we once had, or the comfort we would like to have – resorting to morally questionable means, be it cheating clients or cheating on taxes as a shortcut to maintain our financial security, resorting to morally questionable means such as cheating on a spouse or partner as a shortcut to meeting our emotional needs, if our primary relationship has seemingly gone stale. Will we make our faith about meeting our own needs rather than meeting the needs of others?
History records many times when the church has given into the temptation to amass wealth and power while the poor have starved, where the church has played political games in an attempt to assure its own welfare. How about the church of our time? In our day, when the cultural supports of “respectability” that once propped up the church have been taken away, the church faces temptation as well. Will the church – be it our particular congregation, Emanuel Church, or the universal church, the Holy Catholic, Apostolic, big “C” church - risk popularity by standing against oppression, violence, and injustice, by speaking out against our national sin of greed that has created a society where a few hundred people hold more wealth than the poorest third of our neighbors – let alone the poor of other countries - or will we take the safe route of telling people what they want to hear, reassured in our respectability, limiting our denunciation of sin to pointing our fingers at those on the margins that our society scapegoats as sinners, thus building walls around ourselves and buying into bigotry in order to reassure ourselves of our self-righteousness, rather than looking at our own complicity, the part we all play in perpetuating injustice and violence. Will the church challenge our members to grow, or by entertaining them lull them to sleep? Will we as Christians receive the spiritual bread that will sustain us on our journey, that will strengthen us to take on the world, the flesh, and the devil - or will we gorge ourselves on the spiritual junk food that’s out there – and, like fast food restaurants on every major road selling super-duper-humdinger McWhopper burgers that are like a heart attack on a sesame seed bun, you can find spiritual junk food literally everywhere, from the many and various TV and radio preachers and most of the feel-good books in the religion section of many bookstores, spiritual junk food that makes us fat rather than strong, makes us spiritually lazy and sleepy, content to sit back on our couch, safe in our little cocoon, rather than energizing us to love and worship God and love and serve our neighbor. When we hear the voices calling our church to be content to be a little holy huddle, focused on our own survival and, to the extent our resources allow, our own comfort, rather than preaching the Gospel and sharing God’s love with our neighborhood, our city, our country, our world – when we hear the voices of our day calling us to be respectable rather than faithful – in the society of his day, Jesus was absolutely anything but respectable - we can be sure that this is the voice of the tempter, telling us to play it safe and take shortcuts, and not the voice of God.
That’s the bad news. The good news of the Gospel is that, even if we’ve wandered off course, taken shortcuts, compromised our faith, made deals with the devil that have left us estranged from God and neighbor, God does not leave us there. The Psalmist knew what it was to live with the guilt that comes with cutting corners and making deals with the devil - “while I kept silence, my body wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried up as by the summer’s heat.” And we’ve all been there. But the Psalmist doesn’t leave us there. He goes on: “Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not hide my iniquity. I said, ‘I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,’ and you forgave the guilt of my sin.” In the words of the hymn, we have the privilege of taking to the Lord in prayer all our sins and shortcomings. We need not worry about others standing in judgment of us, for the ground is level at the foot of the cross. At the foot of the cross nobody is respectable and nobody is disrespectable. At the foot of the cross we all stand on the same level, as sinners in need of God’s grace. We follow a God always in search of the last, the lost, and the least. We always have the privilege to take it – whatever it is that separates us from God and neighbor, whatever it is that weighs us down and holds us back – we always have the privilege to take it to the Lord in prayer.
John Newton, the former slave trader who wrote the hymn “Amazing Grace,” near the end of his life was heard to say, “My memory is nearly gone, but I remember two things: that I am a great sinner, and that Christ is a great Savior.” In these forty days of Lent, may we never hesitate to come to that great Savior. May we never hesitate to take all that we have and all that we are to the Lord in prayer. Amen.
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Please join us at Emanuel United Church of Christ on Sunday mornings at 10 a.m. We're on Fillmore Street, just off Thompson. www.emanuelphila.org
Today is the first Sunday in Lent, those forty days each year in which we follow Jesus on his journey to the cross. It’s a time to shut out the world’s distractions, and focus on Jesus, so that, having been refreshed in our time with Jesus, we are renewed to return to the world to share God’s love through our words and actions. As Jesus spent 40 days alone in the desert, pondering the call he heard from God, so are we to draw apart and consider the calling to which God has called each of us, and the calling to which God has called this faith community called Emanuel Church.
We aren’t given a lot of detail about what Jesus was doing out in the desert. This morning’s reading from Matthew’s Gospel takes place immediately after Jesus’ baptism, when, as John was baptizing him, the spirit came down like a dove, and a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the beloved, in whom I am well pleased.” Then we’re told that the Spirit led him into the desert for forty days, to be tempted by the devil. Matthew’s Gospel brings out parallels between Jesus’ experience and that of Moses, and today’s reading is no exception; in Matthew’s telling, Jesus’ 40 days in the wilderness parallel the 40 years of Moses’ and Israel’s wandering in the wilderness – except where Israel and even Moses ultimately fell short, Jesus overcame temptation and remained faithful to God.
Twice, the devil introduces the question, ‘If you are the Son of God….’ After the affirmation of love that Jesus experienced at his baptism, with the voice from heaven calling Jesus God’s Son, the Beloved…now, after Jesus has been out baking in the heat of the desert for 40 days, growing hungrier by the minute, the devil introduces doubt. If you are the Son of God, turn these stones into bread. If you are the Son of God, throw yourself off this mountain so that God will bear you up. If you are the Son of God. If. Are you sure that voice of love you heard at your baptism was God’s voice? Maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe you dreamed the whole thing. Giving into those doubts, giving into that “if” would lead to distance between Jesus and the Father.
The three temptations themselves – to turn stones into bread, to force God into a display of power, to gain political power at the cost of turning from God – on one level, are outside our experience. They seem like decisions we will never face. After all, I can’t snap my fingers and turn stones into bread, and I suspect you can’t either. And yet, in overcoming all these temptations, Jesus must define what his ministry will be about. Will Jesus use his powers to benefit others, or himself? Will his ministry be about humbly serving those in need, or dazzling others with flashy displays of power? Will Jesus be a Savior, or an earthly dictator? In all these encounters with the devil, Jesus is being tempted to make his ministry smaller than God intends, to make his ministry about himself rather than others. Three times, the devil offers Jesus a chance to save his life, rather than lose it. Three times, the devil offers Jesus an easy short-cut to glory that bypasses the cross.
Our Old Testament reading from Genesis shows the consequence of doubting God’s goodness and trying to take shortcuts to fulfillment. Adam and Eve lived in the Garden, in communion with God, with all their needs met. It was the voice of the serpent that introduced doubts – “Did God say, you cannot eat of any tree in the Garden…..If you eat from the fruit of the forbidden tree, you will not die, but rather your eyes will be opened and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” They ate, and in their new awareness of their nakedness before God and one another, they hid. Where there had been close communion between God and humans, now there was shame and alienation; humans hid from God.
So, in a sense, our lectionary, by putting the Genesis story of the fall alongside the story of Jesus temptation in the wilderness, underscores that Jesus overcame the temptation that defeated Adam and Eve. In Genesis, in the garden, the tempter succeeded in breaking the communion between God and humankind. In the wilderness, the tempter tried the same thing - tried to introduce doubt and distance and alienation between Jesus and the Father, tried to induce Jesus to bypass the painful way of the cross – but Jesus stood firm.
These are temptations all of us face as individuals, and that we face as the church, the body of Christ. Every one of us goes through wilderness periods in our lives, when the earthly comforts that normally sustain us, are taken away. How will we respond? Will we follow the advice of Job’s wife to “curse God and die?” Will we take shortcuts to try to regain the comfort we once had, or the comfort we would like to have – resorting to morally questionable means, be it cheating clients or cheating on taxes as a shortcut to maintain our financial security, resorting to morally questionable means such as cheating on a spouse or partner as a shortcut to meeting our emotional needs, if our primary relationship has seemingly gone stale. Will we make our faith about meeting our own needs rather than meeting the needs of others?
History records many times when the church has given into the temptation to amass wealth and power while the poor have starved, where the church has played political games in an attempt to assure its own welfare. How about the church of our time? In our day, when the cultural supports of “respectability” that once propped up the church have been taken away, the church faces temptation as well. Will the church – be it our particular congregation, Emanuel Church, or the universal church, the Holy Catholic, Apostolic, big “C” church - risk popularity by standing against oppression, violence, and injustice, by speaking out against our national sin of greed that has created a society where a few hundred people hold more wealth than the poorest third of our neighbors – let alone the poor of other countries - or will we take the safe route of telling people what they want to hear, reassured in our respectability, limiting our denunciation of sin to pointing our fingers at those on the margins that our society scapegoats as sinners, thus building walls around ourselves and buying into bigotry in order to reassure ourselves of our self-righteousness, rather than looking at our own complicity, the part we all play in perpetuating injustice and violence. Will the church challenge our members to grow, or by entertaining them lull them to sleep? Will we as Christians receive the spiritual bread that will sustain us on our journey, that will strengthen us to take on the world, the flesh, and the devil - or will we gorge ourselves on the spiritual junk food that’s out there – and, like fast food restaurants on every major road selling super-duper-humdinger McWhopper burgers that are like a heart attack on a sesame seed bun, you can find spiritual junk food literally everywhere, from the many and various TV and radio preachers and most of the feel-good books in the religion section of many bookstores, spiritual junk food that makes us fat rather than strong, makes us spiritually lazy and sleepy, content to sit back on our couch, safe in our little cocoon, rather than energizing us to love and worship God and love and serve our neighbor. When we hear the voices calling our church to be content to be a little holy huddle, focused on our own survival and, to the extent our resources allow, our own comfort, rather than preaching the Gospel and sharing God’s love with our neighborhood, our city, our country, our world – when we hear the voices of our day calling us to be respectable rather than faithful – in the society of his day, Jesus was absolutely anything but respectable - we can be sure that this is the voice of the tempter, telling us to play it safe and take shortcuts, and not the voice of God.
That’s the bad news. The good news of the Gospel is that, even if we’ve wandered off course, taken shortcuts, compromised our faith, made deals with the devil that have left us estranged from God and neighbor, God does not leave us there. The Psalmist knew what it was to live with the guilt that comes with cutting corners and making deals with the devil - “while I kept silence, my body wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried up as by the summer’s heat.” And we’ve all been there. But the Psalmist doesn’t leave us there. He goes on: “Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not hide my iniquity. I said, ‘I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,’ and you forgave the guilt of my sin.” In the words of the hymn, we have the privilege of taking to the Lord in prayer all our sins and shortcomings. We need not worry about others standing in judgment of us, for the ground is level at the foot of the cross. At the foot of the cross nobody is respectable and nobody is disrespectable. At the foot of the cross we all stand on the same level, as sinners in need of God’s grace. We follow a God always in search of the last, the lost, and the least. We always have the privilege to take it – whatever it is that separates us from God and neighbor, whatever it is that weighs us down and holds us back – we always have the privilege to take it to the Lord in prayer.
John Newton, the former slave trader who wrote the hymn “Amazing Grace,” near the end of his life was heard to say, “My memory is nearly gone, but I remember two things: that I am a great sinner, and that Christ is a great Savior.” In these forty days of Lent, may we never hesitate to come to that great Savior. May we never hesitate to take all that we have and all that we are to the Lord in prayer. Amen.
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Please join us at Emanuel United Church of Christ on Sunday mornings at 10 a.m. We're on Fillmore Street, just off Thompson. www.emanuelphila.org
Sunday, March 6, 2011
A Divine Encounter (Transfiguration Sunday sermon)
(Scriptures: Exodus 24:12-18, Psalm 99, 2 Peter 1:16-21, Matthew 17:1-9
Today is the first Sunday in March. This year, it is also the last Sunday in Epiphany, the season of the church calendar that celebrates the revelation of Jesus to the world. Later this week will be Ash Wednesday – which will be celebrated at Bridesburg Methodist, as in past years – and next Sunday will be the first Sunday in Lent. On this last Sunday in Epiphany, it is appropriate that the Gospel reading describes the Transfiguration, in which Jesus revealed himself in a special way to three of his disciples, Peter, James and John.
Matthew’s Gospel is thought to have been written to an early Christian community comprised mostly, though not entirely, of Jewish converts to the way of Jesus. Matthew brings out many parallels between the Transfiguration of Jesus and the giving of the law to Moses. Both the giving of the law to Moses and the transfiguration of Jesus occur on mountains, which because of their height were considered especially close to heaven and were therefore thought to be places in which encounters with the Holy were especially likely to occur – similar to what the Irish have called “thin places,” places where the barrier between earth and heaven became almost translucent, and one could almost see from one side to the other. Six days Moses stayed on the mountaintop, enveloped by the glory of God appearing as a cloud, before Moses received the law; six days after revealing to his disciples that he would be killed in Jerusalem, Jesus invited Peter, James, and John to hike with him up the mountain, where Jesus then appeared before them transfigured, appeared to them in a glory that had not previously been apparent. God spoke to Moses out of the cloud of glory; Jesus spoke with Moses – representing the law – and Elijah – representing the prophets – on the mountain of transfiguration. Of course, the disciples are beside themselves with joy and with awe; Peter, supposing that this sort of summit meeting between Jesus, Moses, and Elijah might go on for a while, maybe even overnight, offers to build huts for each of them to live in. And then, as if seeing Jesus talking with Moses and Elijah weren’t enough, the three disciples hear God’s voice booming at them out of a cloud, in words that remind us of the voice heard at Jesus’ baptism: “This is my Son, the beloved, with him I am well-pleased; listen to Him.” Joy becomes terror, and they hit the deck, falling face down on the ground. Then the vision vanishes, and Jesus gently reaches out to touch them on the shoulder, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.”
What are we to make of this? At first glance, we may think the entire account is beyond our experience. And yet, I think we’ve all had experiences in which we learn something we didn’t know previously about someone long familiar to us – perhaps a parent or a spouse or a lifelong friend - that helps us see that familiar person in a whole new way. For example, perhaps growing up, we asked our dad about some military medals we found tucked away in the back of a drawer, and out came stories dad’s military heroism, long years before we were born, that give us new respect for our dad. Or maybe one night over the dinner table, Mom reminisced about how she’d worked night shift in a factory to support dad through school, and we saw a side of Mom’s character that we hadn’t seen before.
And so one part of the Transfiguration account was that Jesus gave to Peter, James and John, the three disciples to whom Jesus was closest, a special revelation of His character – that, indeed, Jesus was a teacher and a healer, but not only that, that Jesus was the beloved of God, was himself God, in dialogue with Moses and Elijah, the law and the prophets. Throughout the Old Testament, direct encounters with God are under normal circumstances too much for frail human beings to handle; for example, when God gave the law to Moses, the people told Moses, “You speak to us, and we’ll listen, but do not let God speak to us, or we’ll die.” And so normally God’s glory is hidden from us. But for his closest followers, on this one occasion, Jesus pulled back the veil just a bit, gave them just a glimpse of the glory of God that was always with Jesus – glory that was always there - but under normal circumstances was hidden from their sight.
Why did Jesus give this vision to his three closest disciples? Was it just a moment of indulgence, a chance to show off a bit? Or was something deeper going on? Remember the context of the account – six days before the Transfiguration, Jesus had begun to tell his disciples that he was going to Jerusalem, where he would be put to death. And so this special vision was granted to the inner circle of his disciples to prepare them for what was to come – the journey to Jerusalem, opposition from both the Temple religious establishment and the Roman establishment, his arrest and execution on the cross.
Again, this account of the Transfiguration may seem outside our experience, something that is perhaps interesting to read, but disconnected from our lives. And yet, as we prepare for the upcoming season of Lent, when spiritually for 40 days we walk alongside Jesus on his journey to the cross, let us consider the ways in which we encounter God’s presence in our own lives. We may feel God’s presence when we come to church and, as we sing a beloved hymn or lift up the needs of our neighbors in prayer, we may hear God’s still small voice within our hearts, or feel the touch of God’s hand brush against us. During a difficult period in my early teens, the ringing of the bells of my hometown church, as the carillon rang out hymns at noon, 3pm and 6 pm every day, the sound of the bells played familiar hymns as I walked home from school and I remembered the words of the hymn, “help of the helpless, O abide with me....” at a time when I was feeling very helpless indeed, to me was like God’s voice, telling me that God had not forgotten me, that God was going to carry me through….and so when I preached at Emanuel for the first time back in November 2007, as nervous and awkward as I was, tripping over steps and stumbling over words, as church bell was rung before service, you can imagine that the sound of the bell brought back reassuring memories to me from years past – God is here, too. We may feel God’s presence as we read a passage of Scripture and something jumps out at us that we hadn’t seen before. We may feel God’s presence as we read a prayer or a Psalm or sing a hymn that was a favorite of our mother or father. We may feel God’s presence in a brilliant sunrise or sunset, or, in the words of the old hymn, “in the rustling grass I hear him pass, He speaks to me everywhere.” We may encounter God’s presence, that of God, in each other and in our neighbors, if we have eyes to see. As Christian writer C. S. Lewis wrote,
“There are no ordinary people. You have never met a mere mortal… It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare.”
We also experience God’s presence in the sacraments. Through the waters of baptism, God claims us for God’s own, as we or our parents on our behalf promise to walk in God’s ways, and the church promises to support that lifelong walk with God. And in a few moments, we’ll have the privilege to encounter the presence of Christ in the elements of Communion, as we remember the body of Christ, broken for us, and the blood of Christ, poured out for our salvation. May God’s presence strengthen us for the 40 days of Lent, and may God’s presence be with us and go with us wherever our lives may take us. Amen.
************
Please join us for worship Sundays at 10 a.m. at Emanuel United Church of Christ. We're on Fillmore St off Thompson in Philadelphia's Bridesburg section. www.emanuelphila.org
Today is the first Sunday in March. This year, it is also the last Sunday in Epiphany, the season of the church calendar that celebrates the revelation of Jesus to the world. Later this week will be Ash Wednesday – which will be celebrated at Bridesburg Methodist, as in past years – and next Sunday will be the first Sunday in Lent. On this last Sunday in Epiphany, it is appropriate that the Gospel reading describes the Transfiguration, in which Jesus revealed himself in a special way to three of his disciples, Peter, James and John.
Matthew’s Gospel is thought to have been written to an early Christian community comprised mostly, though not entirely, of Jewish converts to the way of Jesus. Matthew brings out many parallels between the Transfiguration of Jesus and the giving of the law to Moses. Both the giving of the law to Moses and the transfiguration of Jesus occur on mountains, which because of their height were considered especially close to heaven and were therefore thought to be places in which encounters with the Holy were especially likely to occur – similar to what the Irish have called “thin places,” places where the barrier between earth and heaven became almost translucent, and one could almost see from one side to the other. Six days Moses stayed on the mountaintop, enveloped by the glory of God appearing as a cloud, before Moses received the law; six days after revealing to his disciples that he would be killed in Jerusalem, Jesus invited Peter, James, and John to hike with him up the mountain, where Jesus then appeared before them transfigured, appeared to them in a glory that had not previously been apparent. God spoke to Moses out of the cloud of glory; Jesus spoke with Moses – representing the law – and Elijah – representing the prophets – on the mountain of transfiguration. Of course, the disciples are beside themselves with joy and with awe; Peter, supposing that this sort of summit meeting between Jesus, Moses, and Elijah might go on for a while, maybe even overnight, offers to build huts for each of them to live in. And then, as if seeing Jesus talking with Moses and Elijah weren’t enough, the three disciples hear God’s voice booming at them out of a cloud, in words that remind us of the voice heard at Jesus’ baptism: “This is my Son, the beloved, with him I am well-pleased; listen to Him.” Joy becomes terror, and they hit the deck, falling face down on the ground. Then the vision vanishes, and Jesus gently reaches out to touch them on the shoulder, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.”
What are we to make of this? At first glance, we may think the entire account is beyond our experience. And yet, I think we’ve all had experiences in which we learn something we didn’t know previously about someone long familiar to us – perhaps a parent or a spouse or a lifelong friend - that helps us see that familiar person in a whole new way. For example, perhaps growing up, we asked our dad about some military medals we found tucked away in the back of a drawer, and out came stories dad’s military heroism, long years before we were born, that give us new respect for our dad. Or maybe one night over the dinner table, Mom reminisced about how she’d worked night shift in a factory to support dad through school, and we saw a side of Mom’s character that we hadn’t seen before.
And so one part of the Transfiguration account was that Jesus gave to Peter, James and John, the three disciples to whom Jesus was closest, a special revelation of His character – that, indeed, Jesus was a teacher and a healer, but not only that, that Jesus was the beloved of God, was himself God, in dialogue with Moses and Elijah, the law and the prophets. Throughout the Old Testament, direct encounters with God are under normal circumstances too much for frail human beings to handle; for example, when God gave the law to Moses, the people told Moses, “You speak to us, and we’ll listen, but do not let God speak to us, or we’ll die.” And so normally God’s glory is hidden from us. But for his closest followers, on this one occasion, Jesus pulled back the veil just a bit, gave them just a glimpse of the glory of God that was always with Jesus – glory that was always there - but under normal circumstances was hidden from their sight.
Why did Jesus give this vision to his three closest disciples? Was it just a moment of indulgence, a chance to show off a bit? Or was something deeper going on? Remember the context of the account – six days before the Transfiguration, Jesus had begun to tell his disciples that he was going to Jerusalem, where he would be put to death. And so this special vision was granted to the inner circle of his disciples to prepare them for what was to come – the journey to Jerusalem, opposition from both the Temple religious establishment and the Roman establishment, his arrest and execution on the cross.
Again, this account of the Transfiguration may seem outside our experience, something that is perhaps interesting to read, but disconnected from our lives. And yet, as we prepare for the upcoming season of Lent, when spiritually for 40 days we walk alongside Jesus on his journey to the cross, let us consider the ways in which we encounter God’s presence in our own lives. We may feel God’s presence when we come to church and, as we sing a beloved hymn or lift up the needs of our neighbors in prayer, we may hear God’s still small voice within our hearts, or feel the touch of God’s hand brush against us. During a difficult period in my early teens, the ringing of the bells of my hometown church, as the carillon rang out hymns at noon, 3pm and 6 pm every day, the sound of the bells played familiar hymns as I walked home from school and I remembered the words of the hymn, “help of the helpless, O abide with me....” at a time when I was feeling very helpless indeed, to me was like God’s voice, telling me that God had not forgotten me, that God was going to carry me through….and so when I preached at Emanuel for the first time back in November 2007, as nervous and awkward as I was, tripping over steps and stumbling over words, as church bell was rung before service, you can imagine that the sound of the bell brought back reassuring memories to me from years past – God is here, too. We may feel God’s presence as we read a passage of Scripture and something jumps out at us that we hadn’t seen before. We may feel God’s presence as we read a prayer or a Psalm or sing a hymn that was a favorite of our mother or father. We may feel God’s presence in a brilliant sunrise or sunset, or, in the words of the old hymn, “in the rustling grass I hear him pass, He speaks to me everywhere.” We may encounter God’s presence, that of God, in each other and in our neighbors, if we have eyes to see. As Christian writer C. S. Lewis wrote,
“There are no ordinary people. You have never met a mere mortal… It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare.”
We also experience God’s presence in the sacraments. Through the waters of baptism, God claims us for God’s own, as we or our parents on our behalf promise to walk in God’s ways, and the church promises to support that lifelong walk with God. And in a few moments, we’ll have the privilege to encounter the presence of Christ in the elements of Communion, as we remember the body of Christ, broken for us, and the blood of Christ, poured out for our salvation. May God’s presence strengthen us for the 40 days of Lent, and may God’s presence be with us and go with us wherever our lives may take us. Amen.
************
Please join us for worship Sundays at 10 a.m. at Emanuel United Church of Christ. We're on Fillmore St off Thompson in Philadelphia's Bridesburg section. www.emanuelphila.org
Don't Worry?
(Scriptures: Isaiah 49:8-16a, Psalm 131, I Corinthians 4:1-5, Matthew 6:7-15, 19-34)
This Sunday’s Gospel reading is the last we’ll hear for a while from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. While we may have been comforted three weeks ago by the Beatitudes, for the past two Sundays Jesus has offered some very difficult sayings, telling us not only not to commit adultery and kill, but also not even to entertain lust or anger in our minds, not even to allow lust and anger to linger in our thoughts, but to let go of them without hesitation. Last Sunday we heard Jesus tell us to overcome our instincts for survival so that God can give us the gift of a love that will go the 2nd mile, a love that will extend beyond our friends to our enemies, a love willing to do good unto all. By now, we may feel that Jesus have gone from preaching to meddling, as the saying goes.
With this Sunday’s reading, we may think that Jesus has completely taken leave of his senses, that he’s gone from asking the impossible to ranting nonsense. After all, in this awful economy, when people are being fired left and right while the rich just get richer, how can we possibly take Jesus seriously when he tells us not to worry where our next meal is coming from? It may seem that Jesus has lost touch with reality. But I’m here to say that the opposite is true – Jesus is, figuratively speaking, jumping up and down trying to draw our attention from the distractions of our daily lives to the ultimate reality of the Kingdom of God.
I began the Gospel reading a bit earlier in Matthew 6 than the lectionary reading indicated, in order to include the Lord’s Prayer. We will pray the Lord’s Prayer following the sermon, as we do every Sunday when we worship here. It’s such a familiar prayer that it’s tempting to just recite it by rote, as if we were talking in our sleep, not unlike school children reciting the Pledge of Allegiance as nothing more than a jumble of syllables, with no real meaning. When treated like this, it becomes background noise, losing its power to transform our lives. But in our reading, Jesus lifted up several thoughts in connection with the Lord’s Prayer. First of all, it’s quite short and simple. Jesus specifically taught his followers not to heap up long, empty prayers full of flowery words, as if to try to impress God. But Jesus also says, in this connection, that our heavenly Father knows what we need before we ask. The prayer “give us this day our daily bread” is not intended to remind an absent-minded, forgetful, fumbling God: "Yo, don’t forget to feed us!" Rather, it’s to remind us of our utter daily dependency before God. At the end of the prayer, Jesus lifts up the necessity of forgiving the offenses of others, as we have been forgiven by God.
And then Jesus goes on to speak of what we do with the blessings with which God has blessed us. Do we, in our greed and our anxiety about tomorrow, hang onto them with a deathgrip, or do we make our blessings available to others. Jesus’ talk about “treasures in heaven” is his way of speaking of almsgiving, or sharing our treasure with the poor. When Jesus contrasts treasures on earth with treasures in heaven, he’s contrasting the behavior of hanging onto our wealth, vs sharing it with others.
And then Jesus speaks of the frustration of serving of trying to serve two masters who would pull us in opposite directions: inevitably we’ll love one and reject the other. Inevitably one master is not going to be happy with us. In the same way, serving Mammon – figuratively, the god of money, that which for many represents prosperity and comfort – will lead us to neglect our relationship with God, just as serving God will inevitably lead us not to be invested in our own prosperity and comfort.
Fortunately Jesus does not leave us, in the words of the old Mary McGregor song, “torn between two lovers, feeling like a fool…..” – he gives us a definite shove in the direction of serving God, and letting the other stuff happen as it happens. Just as Jesus said in his lead-in to the Lord’s Prayer, Jesus again reminds us that God already knows we need food and clothing and shelter, and that if God lovingly provides for lilies and sparrows that are here today and gone tomorrow or next week, how much more so will God lovingly provide for our needs. Jesus knows that if we’re freed up from our obsessive focuses on ourselves, our own needs, our own wants, our own wants that pretend to be needs, we’ll be liberated to love God and neighbor. In a society that’s obsessed with looking out for number one – and that describes the society of Jesus’ day, as well as our society and pretty much every human society on the planet before or since – Jesus is trying to build an alternative society in which, with the real number one, God, already looking out for us, we can care for the welfare of others.
“Don’t worry about your life, what you will eat or drink or wear…” – that would pretty much put out business the advertising industry, which succeeds precisely by getting us to worry about just those things, and more. Meanwhile, it’s a measure of how utterly co-opted by American materialism, how utterly sucked into the world’s way of doing things, much of our country’s religious establishment is that, by and large, most churches aren’t even trying to create that alternative society of which Jesus spoke. By and large, conservative churches and religious leaders support political leaders who are trying to shred what remains of our country’s social safety net, trying to destroy whatever ability those on the margins of our society have to better themselves. Exhibit A is what’s happening in Wisconsin, with the newly-elected governor and legislature engaging in union-busting tactics. And this trend has spread to other states, with the enthusiastic support of many in the church, who try to let themselves off the hook of their guilty consciences by handing out a few food baskets at Christmas. What are folks supposed to live on the rest of the year? The wealthy of our time, have increased their wealth by distracting folks like us, by setting up state workers and union members as scapegoats and telling us that these scapegoats have life too easy, meanwhile the wealthy are picking our back pockets while our attention is diverted. America today has the greatest inequality of wealth that we’ve had in nearly 100 years – and it’s growing. Talk about powers and principalities, and spiritual wickedness in high places!! And many TV and radio preachers, rather than combating this spiritual wickedness, instead work to get their share of the action, leading their supporters to send in whatever little money they have left, mopping up anything their listeners may have left over. All of this blatant greed is million miles away from anything Jesus preached. While many of our conservative churches try to make morality all about sex, certain kinds of sex, anyway – under the title of “family values” – but are strangely silent on the topic of wealth and the greed that comes with it – Jesus seldom spoke about sex, but was an absolute pain in the neck on the subject of money, going on and on about the spiritual danger of greed. The United Church of Christ, for our part, has echoed Jesus’ message about the need to overcome greed, to share our treasure with the poor, but we’re a voice crying in the wilderness, heard by few, ignored by most. As has been said in various ways by many different people – from Gandhi to German Christian martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer to Pearl S. Buck to Hubert H Humphrey – “A nation’s greatness is measured by how it treats its weakest members.” By that measure, I’d have to say our American society is failing that test, miserably. Not only are we as a society failing, we’re not even trying to get it right.
Having reminded his listeners that as God cares for the grass of the fields and the birds of the air, God will care for us – having told us what we shouldn’t obsess over, Jesus tells us what we should focus on – and it’s what we sang about during the offering: Seek first the kingdom of God, and God’s righteousness, and all this other stuff will be added to us. Now the kingdom of God is not just some ethereal realm, pie in the sky by and by when we die. Seek first the kingdom of God – where the last, the least, and the lost are cared for, where nobody is left to drop out of the bottom of society, where love of God is inseparable from love of neighbor, even those neighbors we may not like very much, who make us uncomfortable, who make our skin crawl – those are the neighbors God has commanded us to love. Remember the words of our reading from Isaiah, which tell us what our purpose is: “I have kept you and given you as a covenant to the people, to establish the land, to apportion the desolate heritages; saying to the prisoners, "Come out," to those who are in darkness, "Show yourselves." They shall feed along the ways, on all the bare heights shall be their pasture; they shall not hunger or thirst, neither scorching wind nor sun shall strike them down, for he who has pity on them will lead them, and by springs of water will guide them.” This is a picture of how God wants us to live, and how God wants us to act toward those on the margins of our society. This is a picture of the Kingdom of God, which will be fully realized at the end of time – but which we begin to experience here and now as followers of Jesus, as disciples of Christ.
Seek first the kingdom of God, and God’s righteousness. Seek first the Kingdom of God, and not our own comfort and convenience. Seek first the kingdom of God, not just when the sun is shining and the birds are singing – Jesus has no need of fair weather friends – but when it’s stormy weather, when we have to plod through puddles and slog through snowdrifts to seek it. May we at Emanuel Church not be fair weather friends to Jesus, but seek first God’s kingdom, that our neighbors here in Bridesburg and our neighbors far away may receive the blessings of God….and that in being a blessing to others, we too may be blessed. Amen.
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Please join us at Emanuel United Church of Christ on Sunday mornings at 10 a.m. We're on Fillmore Street (off Thompson) in Bridesburg. www.emanuelphila.org
This Sunday’s Gospel reading is the last we’ll hear for a while from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. While we may have been comforted three weeks ago by the Beatitudes, for the past two Sundays Jesus has offered some very difficult sayings, telling us not only not to commit adultery and kill, but also not even to entertain lust or anger in our minds, not even to allow lust and anger to linger in our thoughts, but to let go of them without hesitation. Last Sunday we heard Jesus tell us to overcome our instincts for survival so that God can give us the gift of a love that will go the 2nd mile, a love that will extend beyond our friends to our enemies, a love willing to do good unto all. By now, we may feel that Jesus have gone from preaching to meddling, as the saying goes.
With this Sunday’s reading, we may think that Jesus has completely taken leave of his senses, that he’s gone from asking the impossible to ranting nonsense. After all, in this awful economy, when people are being fired left and right while the rich just get richer, how can we possibly take Jesus seriously when he tells us not to worry where our next meal is coming from? It may seem that Jesus has lost touch with reality. But I’m here to say that the opposite is true – Jesus is, figuratively speaking, jumping up and down trying to draw our attention from the distractions of our daily lives to the ultimate reality of the Kingdom of God.
I began the Gospel reading a bit earlier in Matthew 6 than the lectionary reading indicated, in order to include the Lord’s Prayer. We will pray the Lord’s Prayer following the sermon, as we do every Sunday when we worship here. It’s such a familiar prayer that it’s tempting to just recite it by rote, as if we were talking in our sleep, not unlike school children reciting the Pledge of Allegiance as nothing more than a jumble of syllables, with no real meaning. When treated like this, it becomes background noise, losing its power to transform our lives. But in our reading, Jesus lifted up several thoughts in connection with the Lord’s Prayer. First of all, it’s quite short and simple. Jesus specifically taught his followers not to heap up long, empty prayers full of flowery words, as if to try to impress God. But Jesus also says, in this connection, that our heavenly Father knows what we need before we ask. The prayer “give us this day our daily bread” is not intended to remind an absent-minded, forgetful, fumbling God: "Yo, don’t forget to feed us!" Rather, it’s to remind us of our utter daily dependency before God. At the end of the prayer, Jesus lifts up the necessity of forgiving the offenses of others, as we have been forgiven by God.
And then Jesus goes on to speak of what we do with the blessings with which God has blessed us. Do we, in our greed and our anxiety about tomorrow, hang onto them with a deathgrip, or do we make our blessings available to others. Jesus’ talk about “treasures in heaven” is his way of speaking of almsgiving, or sharing our treasure with the poor. When Jesus contrasts treasures on earth with treasures in heaven, he’s contrasting the behavior of hanging onto our wealth, vs sharing it with others.
And then Jesus speaks of the frustration of serving of trying to serve two masters who would pull us in opposite directions: inevitably we’ll love one and reject the other. Inevitably one master is not going to be happy with us. In the same way, serving Mammon – figuratively, the god of money, that which for many represents prosperity and comfort – will lead us to neglect our relationship with God, just as serving God will inevitably lead us not to be invested in our own prosperity and comfort.
Fortunately Jesus does not leave us, in the words of the old Mary McGregor song, “torn between two lovers, feeling like a fool…..” – he gives us a definite shove in the direction of serving God, and letting the other stuff happen as it happens. Just as Jesus said in his lead-in to the Lord’s Prayer, Jesus again reminds us that God already knows we need food and clothing and shelter, and that if God lovingly provides for lilies and sparrows that are here today and gone tomorrow or next week, how much more so will God lovingly provide for our needs. Jesus knows that if we’re freed up from our obsessive focuses on ourselves, our own needs, our own wants, our own wants that pretend to be needs, we’ll be liberated to love God and neighbor. In a society that’s obsessed with looking out for number one – and that describes the society of Jesus’ day, as well as our society and pretty much every human society on the planet before or since – Jesus is trying to build an alternative society in which, with the real number one, God, already looking out for us, we can care for the welfare of others.
“Don’t worry about your life, what you will eat or drink or wear…” – that would pretty much put out business the advertising industry, which succeeds precisely by getting us to worry about just those things, and more. Meanwhile, it’s a measure of how utterly co-opted by American materialism, how utterly sucked into the world’s way of doing things, much of our country’s religious establishment is that, by and large, most churches aren’t even trying to create that alternative society of which Jesus spoke. By and large, conservative churches and religious leaders support political leaders who are trying to shred what remains of our country’s social safety net, trying to destroy whatever ability those on the margins of our society have to better themselves. Exhibit A is what’s happening in Wisconsin, with the newly-elected governor and legislature engaging in union-busting tactics. And this trend has spread to other states, with the enthusiastic support of many in the church, who try to let themselves off the hook of their guilty consciences by handing out a few food baskets at Christmas. What are folks supposed to live on the rest of the year? The wealthy of our time, have increased their wealth by distracting folks like us, by setting up state workers and union members as scapegoats and telling us that these scapegoats have life too easy, meanwhile the wealthy are picking our back pockets while our attention is diverted. America today has the greatest inequality of wealth that we’ve had in nearly 100 years – and it’s growing. Talk about powers and principalities, and spiritual wickedness in high places!! And many TV and radio preachers, rather than combating this spiritual wickedness, instead work to get their share of the action, leading their supporters to send in whatever little money they have left, mopping up anything their listeners may have left over. All of this blatant greed is million miles away from anything Jesus preached. While many of our conservative churches try to make morality all about sex, certain kinds of sex, anyway – under the title of “family values” – but are strangely silent on the topic of wealth and the greed that comes with it – Jesus seldom spoke about sex, but was an absolute pain in the neck on the subject of money, going on and on about the spiritual danger of greed. The United Church of Christ, for our part, has echoed Jesus’ message about the need to overcome greed, to share our treasure with the poor, but we’re a voice crying in the wilderness, heard by few, ignored by most. As has been said in various ways by many different people – from Gandhi to German Christian martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer to Pearl S. Buck to Hubert H Humphrey – “A nation’s greatness is measured by how it treats its weakest members.” By that measure, I’d have to say our American society is failing that test, miserably. Not only are we as a society failing, we’re not even trying to get it right.
Having reminded his listeners that as God cares for the grass of the fields and the birds of the air, God will care for us – having told us what we shouldn’t obsess over, Jesus tells us what we should focus on – and it’s what we sang about during the offering: Seek first the kingdom of God, and God’s righteousness, and all this other stuff will be added to us. Now the kingdom of God is not just some ethereal realm, pie in the sky by and by when we die. Seek first the kingdom of God – where the last, the least, and the lost are cared for, where nobody is left to drop out of the bottom of society, where love of God is inseparable from love of neighbor, even those neighbors we may not like very much, who make us uncomfortable, who make our skin crawl – those are the neighbors God has commanded us to love. Remember the words of our reading from Isaiah, which tell us what our purpose is: “I have kept you and given you as a covenant to the people, to establish the land, to apportion the desolate heritages; saying to the prisoners, "Come out," to those who are in darkness, "Show yourselves." They shall feed along the ways, on all the bare heights shall be their pasture; they shall not hunger or thirst, neither scorching wind nor sun shall strike them down, for he who has pity on them will lead them, and by springs of water will guide them.” This is a picture of how God wants us to live, and how God wants us to act toward those on the margins of our society. This is a picture of the Kingdom of God, which will be fully realized at the end of time – but which we begin to experience here and now as followers of Jesus, as disciples of Christ.
Seek first the kingdom of God, and God’s righteousness. Seek first the Kingdom of God, and not our own comfort and convenience. Seek first the kingdom of God, not just when the sun is shining and the birds are singing – Jesus has no need of fair weather friends – but when it’s stormy weather, when we have to plod through puddles and slog through snowdrifts to seek it. May we at Emanuel Church not be fair weather friends to Jesus, but seek first God’s kingdom, that our neighbors here in Bridesburg and our neighbors far away may receive the blessings of God….and that in being a blessing to others, we too may be blessed. Amen.
**************
Please join us at Emanuel United Church of Christ on Sunday mornings at 10 a.m. We're on Fillmore Street (off Thompson) in Bridesburg. www.emanuelphila.org
Friday, January 28, 2011
Fishing
(Scriptures: Isaiah 9:1-4, I Corinthians 1:10-18,Matthew 4:12-23)
Today’s Gospel reading gives Matthew’s account of the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. The preceding Scriptures have built up to this point – Matthew’s birth narrative, the angels’ proclamation to Mary, the visit of the Magi, the flight to Egypt to escape Herod, the baptism by John, Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness, which we’ll read about a few weeks from now in Lent…all these are ways in which God the Father prepared Jesus for ministry. So much of God’s grace has poured into Jesus, and now Jesus begins to pour out that grace for humankind as he begins his earthly ministry.
For Matthew, apparently John’s arrest was the catalyst for Jesus beginning his own ministry. Matthew brushes past it so quickly – “now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested” – but we’re not only given a note about the news of the day, but also a foreshadowing of coming danger, a sense that the danger faced by John will later be faced by Jesus. Jesus responds to the news by moving from his childhood home of Nazareth, to move to Capernaum, along the sea of Galilee. The events of the day lead Jesus out of his comfort zone and into unfamiliar territory – but Matthew also tells us that God’s hand is in all this, as the areas formerly settled by the Hebrew tribes of Zebulon and Naphthali, which had centuries ago been overrun by the Assyrians and were considered “Galilee of the Gentiles” have seen the great light of Jesus. As so often happens, what the human powers that be intended for evil, God used for good. And as Matthew tells the story, Jesus’ preaching picks up where John the Baptist’s preaching left off – “repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”
And then Jesus, who by John’s arrest was led out of his comfort zone, proceeds to call others out of their comfort zones. He encounters the brothers Simon and Andrew casting a net into the sea. There’s no mention of a boat, so perhaps we’re to understand that they have none. They’re just doing what they do every day for a living. That day was unfolding like the day before and the day before that….until along came Jesus, telling them, “follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” We’re told that immediately – no hesitation – they left their nets and followed Jesus. The three encounter the brothers James and John. We’re told that they’re in a boat with their father, Zebedee – Mark’s version of the story also mentions hired men – so perhaps we’re to understand that this family is a bit better off than Simon and Andrew’s family. Again the call from Jesus, and again they immediately leave everything – the hired men, the boat, their father – immediately, no hesitation - leave all that’s familiar to follow Jesus.
As I read this, I’m struck by the use of the word immediately. Just like that, they drop everything and follow Jesus. I try to imagine Jesus stopping by the accounting department and saying, “Follow me, and instead of counting beans you’ll be counting new believers.” Or imagine Jesus stopping by your workplaces – the lab, the tax office, the collection agency, the insurance company – with the call, “Follow me.” We’re risk-averse, cautious….likely before following Jesus, many of us would be tempted to start asking about life insurance and health insurance and a retirement plan. “Hey Jesus, do you offer a 401K?” But from Andrew and Simon and James and John, none of that – just willingness to drop everything and follow. Perhaps the call of Andrew and Simon and James and John is a sort of visual demonstration of the Isaiah text “the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light.” They were just fishing, just doing what they did every day – and then Jesus came, the light dawned, they followed the light, and their lives were never the same.
Like Simon and Andrew and James and John, Jesus likewise calls for us here at Emanuel to fish for people. We’re called to gather disciples for Christ. It would be nice if people would just walk in the door – and truth to tell, a few do, now and then – but often expecting people to just find their way to us would be like Simon and Andrew standing on the shore with their net spread out on the sand, waiting for the fish to jump out of the water toward the beach and land in their nets. Fishing doesn’t work that way – the net has to be where the fish are. And if we are to attract people to Christ, we need to be where they are….which may mean leaving our comfort zones….leaving the beach, venturing out into deep water, and letting down our nets.
What does it look like, to leave everything behind and follow Jesus? I think of the young couple from Denver, Colorado, Patrick and Kim Bentrott, whom the UCC had sent as medical missionaries to Haiti, and who were there during last year’s earthquake. Their website address was in the bulletin for a month or so last year. Their lives in Haiti literally turned upside down as the tremors crumbled nearly all of facilities at the medical clinic they served, and they often felt completely overwhelmed at the magnitude of the need in front of them – but they were where God needed them, and they touched many lives. A year later, they’re back in the United States, with two adopted Haitian children, but keep in frequent contact with the land they served and loved intensely.
We read accounts like that of the Bentrott’s ministry in Haiti, and think that it’s so far outside our experience that we can’t hope to do anything like that. To which I’d respond, not necessarily so. Today we see the beginnings of Andrew’s and Simon’s and James’ and John’s walk with Jesus. We know that at the end of the path were the beginnings of the early church, and martyrs’ deaths for all but maybe John. But in between those first steps of obedience in today’s Gospel and the end of their path, were countless small steps of obedience, countless small acts of stepping out in faith, of taking small risks that led to taking greater risks. And there were many missteps and stumbles along the way – James and John trying to get the seats next to Christ in glory, Peter denying Christ. And after every stumble, they picked themselves up, dusted themselves off, and started out anew on their journey with Jesus. All of this came through the prompting of the Spirit – and yet these followers of Christ had hearts open to the Spirit’s leading.
A small personal testimony: my journey to serving here at Emanuel and to seminary has been a very gradual one – joining Old First church downtown – and I used to take the train in from the suburbs - slowly trusting the members there enough to become active, eventually taking on some roles leading worship and serving on their governing board, risking doing some hospital visitation even though I wasn’t sure I could handle standing next to someone on his deathbed, taking some licensed ministry courses, hanging out here at Emanuel, and eventually taking a big deep breath and enrolling in seminary. A long journey, over 20 years or more, with lots of self-doubt along the way – am I really called to be a pastor....I can’t go back to school, I’m almost the oldest person in my classes; my mind can’t pick up and retain all this new material like it could when I was in my 20’s. Back then I had a mind like a sponge; now it's like trying to soak up water with a brick. And yet trusting God that, if this is what God’s calling me to do, God will make a way for it to happen.
And so I’d challenge each of us, and challenge us as a congregation to take some risks, venture out of our comfort zones, and follow Jesus, and allow Jesus to teach us to fish for people. It doesn’t mean we all have to pick up and move to Haiti or Timbuktu or wherever. It may mean something as simple and as crucial as inviting a friend or family member to church – something as simple and beautiful as standing by someone going through a difficult time and offering a word of hope when all they feel is despair – as simple and as caring as visiting a sick friend and reminding them that Jesus loves them.
“The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death, light has dawned.” May we at Emanuel Church carry the light of Christ to our families, our friends, our neighbors, and especially to our beloved neighborhood of Bridesburg. Amen.
*************
Please join us at Emanuel United Church of Christ on Sunday mornings at 10 a.m. We're at 2628 Fillmore Street (off Thompson)
Today’s Gospel reading gives Matthew’s account of the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. The preceding Scriptures have built up to this point – Matthew’s birth narrative, the angels’ proclamation to Mary, the visit of the Magi, the flight to Egypt to escape Herod, the baptism by John, Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness, which we’ll read about a few weeks from now in Lent…all these are ways in which God the Father prepared Jesus for ministry. So much of God’s grace has poured into Jesus, and now Jesus begins to pour out that grace for humankind as he begins his earthly ministry.
For Matthew, apparently John’s arrest was the catalyst for Jesus beginning his own ministry. Matthew brushes past it so quickly – “now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested” – but we’re not only given a note about the news of the day, but also a foreshadowing of coming danger, a sense that the danger faced by John will later be faced by Jesus. Jesus responds to the news by moving from his childhood home of Nazareth, to move to Capernaum, along the sea of Galilee. The events of the day lead Jesus out of his comfort zone and into unfamiliar territory – but Matthew also tells us that God’s hand is in all this, as the areas formerly settled by the Hebrew tribes of Zebulon and Naphthali, which had centuries ago been overrun by the Assyrians and were considered “Galilee of the Gentiles” have seen the great light of Jesus. As so often happens, what the human powers that be intended for evil, God used for good. And as Matthew tells the story, Jesus’ preaching picks up where John the Baptist’s preaching left off – “repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”
And then Jesus, who by John’s arrest was led out of his comfort zone, proceeds to call others out of their comfort zones. He encounters the brothers Simon and Andrew casting a net into the sea. There’s no mention of a boat, so perhaps we’re to understand that they have none. They’re just doing what they do every day for a living. That day was unfolding like the day before and the day before that….until along came Jesus, telling them, “follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” We’re told that immediately – no hesitation – they left their nets and followed Jesus. The three encounter the brothers James and John. We’re told that they’re in a boat with their father, Zebedee – Mark’s version of the story also mentions hired men – so perhaps we’re to understand that this family is a bit better off than Simon and Andrew’s family. Again the call from Jesus, and again they immediately leave everything – the hired men, the boat, their father – immediately, no hesitation - leave all that’s familiar to follow Jesus.
As I read this, I’m struck by the use of the word immediately. Just like that, they drop everything and follow Jesus. I try to imagine Jesus stopping by the accounting department and saying, “Follow me, and instead of counting beans you’ll be counting new believers.” Or imagine Jesus stopping by your workplaces – the lab, the tax office, the collection agency, the insurance company – with the call, “Follow me.” We’re risk-averse, cautious….likely before following Jesus, many of us would be tempted to start asking about life insurance and health insurance and a retirement plan. “Hey Jesus, do you offer a 401K?” But from Andrew and Simon and James and John, none of that – just willingness to drop everything and follow. Perhaps the call of Andrew and Simon and James and John is a sort of visual demonstration of the Isaiah text “the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light.” They were just fishing, just doing what they did every day – and then Jesus came, the light dawned, they followed the light, and their lives were never the same.
Like Simon and Andrew and James and John, Jesus likewise calls for us here at Emanuel to fish for people. We’re called to gather disciples for Christ. It would be nice if people would just walk in the door – and truth to tell, a few do, now and then – but often expecting people to just find their way to us would be like Simon and Andrew standing on the shore with their net spread out on the sand, waiting for the fish to jump out of the water toward the beach and land in their nets. Fishing doesn’t work that way – the net has to be where the fish are. And if we are to attract people to Christ, we need to be where they are….which may mean leaving our comfort zones….leaving the beach, venturing out into deep water, and letting down our nets.
What does it look like, to leave everything behind and follow Jesus? I think of the young couple from Denver, Colorado, Patrick and Kim Bentrott, whom the UCC had sent as medical missionaries to Haiti, and who were there during last year’s earthquake. Their website address was in the bulletin for a month or so last year. Their lives in Haiti literally turned upside down as the tremors crumbled nearly all of facilities at the medical clinic they served, and they often felt completely overwhelmed at the magnitude of the need in front of them – but they were where God needed them, and they touched many lives. A year later, they’re back in the United States, with two adopted Haitian children, but keep in frequent contact with the land they served and loved intensely.
We read accounts like that of the Bentrott’s ministry in Haiti, and think that it’s so far outside our experience that we can’t hope to do anything like that. To which I’d respond, not necessarily so. Today we see the beginnings of Andrew’s and Simon’s and James’ and John’s walk with Jesus. We know that at the end of the path were the beginnings of the early church, and martyrs’ deaths for all but maybe John. But in between those first steps of obedience in today’s Gospel and the end of their path, were countless small steps of obedience, countless small acts of stepping out in faith, of taking small risks that led to taking greater risks. And there were many missteps and stumbles along the way – James and John trying to get the seats next to Christ in glory, Peter denying Christ. And after every stumble, they picked themselves up, dusted themselves off, and started out anew on their journey with Jesus. All of this came through the prompting of the Spirit – and yet these followers of Christ had hearts open to the Spirit’s leading.
A small personal testimony: my journey to serving here at Emanuel and to seminary has been a very gradual one – joining Old First church downtown – and I used to take the train in from the suburbs - slowly trusting the members there enough to become active, eventually taking on some roles leading worship and serving on their governing board, risking doing some hospital visitation even though I wasn’t sure I could handle standing next to someone on his deathbed, taking some licensed ministry courses, hanging out here at Emanuel, and eventually taking a big deep breath and enrolling in seminary. A long journey, over 20 years or more, with lots of self-doubt along the way – am I really called to be a pastor....I can’t go back to school, I’m almost the oldest person in my classes; my mind can’t pick up and retain all this new material like it could when I was in my 20’s. Back then I had a mind like a sponge; now it's like trying to soak up water with a brick. And yet trusting God that, if this is what God’s calling me to do, God will make a way for it to happen.
And so I’d challenge each of us, and challenge us as a congregation to take some risks, venture out of our comfort zones, and follow Jesus, and allow Jesus to teach us to fish for people. It doesn’t mean we all have to pick up and move to Haiti or Timbuktu or wherever. It may mean something as simple and as crucial as inviting a friend or family member to church – something as simple and beautiful as standing by someone going through a difficult time and offering a word of hope when all they feel is despair – as simple and as caring as visiting a sick friend and reminding them that Jesus loves them.
“The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death, light has dawned.” May we at Emanuel Church carry the light of Christ to our families, our friends, our neighbors, and especially to our beloved neighborhood of Bridesburg. Amen.
*************
Please join us at Emanuel United Church of Christ on Sunday mornings at 10 a.m. We're at 2628 Fillmore Street (off Thompson)
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Who Are You?
Mark 8: 22-38 captures a pivotal moment in the ministry of Jesus. Chapter 8 of Mark’s Gospel is roughly in the middle of the Gospel. Everything before today’s reading leads up to the question that Jesus asks Peter, “Who do you say that I am?” And everything that happens after is a consequence of the answer, as Jesus goes on to be a very different Messiah than what they’d envisioned. Instead of glory, suffering; instead of a crown, a cross. Not that glory and crowns for Jesus won’t come later, but the road to Easter Sunday inevitably runs through Good Friday.
Mark begins his Gospel, as we’ve noted several times, “the beginning of the good news of Jesus of Nazareth the Son of God.” This is followed by a series of vignettes – healings in Jewish territory, questions by the religious authorities and doubts even among his own family, missions into Gentile territory, where he heals many and is heard gladly. We get some glimpses of his preaching – parables about seeds sown on different types of soil. We get, not one, but two feeding stories – the feeding of 5,000 men (plus women and children) with five loaves and two fish, with 12 baskets left over, and the feeding of the 4,000 from 7 loaves and 2 fish, with 7 baskets left over. There is the story of Jesus calming the wind and waves. Commentators have noted that basically all of these stories are, in effect, presented as exorcisms, as forces of disease, hunger, and natural disaster are driven away by Jesus.
The narrative up until today’s reading has a number of themes – many miracles and healings, accounts of teaching in parables, skepticism from his family and his hometown, increasing opposition among the religious establishment, and increasing outreach to the surrounding Gentile community. All of this against the backdrop of John the Baptist’s proclamation, and John’s eventual beheading by Herod. So the grace from God and danger from human misunderstanding and opposition are both factors leading up to today’s reading. Today’s reading opens with an account of Jesus healing a blind man. Jesus leads the man out of the village where he had been, lays his hands upon the man, and the man says he can see – sort of – but the people to him look like tree trunks walking around. Jesus lays his hands on the man again, and his sight is completely restored. Jesus tells the man not to return to the village – not to return to what for him had been a place of blindness, but to move forward with his newly-restored vision.
Having sent the man on his way, Jesus leads into his question by asking, “Who do other people say that I am.” What’s the buzz? He gets a variety of answers – Elijah, or John the Baptist come back to life, or a prophet. All acknowledgements that Jesus was someone special, not a run of the mill religious leader. It’s likely an answer he expected, yet perhaps not quite the answer he was looking for.
“Who do you say that I am?” Peter, always one to open his mouth before engaging his brain, comes out with “You are the Messiah, the Anointed One.” Jesus cautions him to tell nobody of this. Then Jesus begins to tell them that the Son of Man must suffer and be executed. Peter takes Jesus aside and tells Jesus to stop being such a gloomy Gus. “These things will never happen to you, Jesus” But Jesus in turn rebuked Peter in front of everyone, saying “Get behind me, Satan – you’re thinking from a human viewpoint, not from God’s viewpoint."
“Who do you say that I am?” Jesus’ question is not only for Peter, but for us. In many ways, our answer will not only tell us who we think Jesus is, but who we ourselves are as well – sort of like a psychologist asking a patient to describe their response to an ink blot – our responses may say more about ourselves than about what we’re describing.
“They say you are John the Baptist, or Elijah, or one of the prophets.” This answer does two things at the same time – it gives an appearance of great respect, but it also distances us from having to make a commitment. Think of those who are admired in our day as saints – Mother Teresa, or Gandhi for example. We look up to them as wonderful people. God bless ‘em. But we don’t necessarily feel compelled to follow their example – we can just admire, from a safe distance.
“God forbid, Lord - These things will never happen to you.” Mark doesn’t tell us what Peter said when he took Jesus aside, but these words are Matthew’s version of Peter’s reaction when Jesus spoke of his impending suffering. Peter confessed Jesus as the Messiah – but what kind of Messiah? One who would gloriously free Israel from Roman rule? And this is the Messiah that many in church look for today – the Messiah that will solve all our problems. The “name it and claim it”, “prosperity gospel” folks who think of Jesus as their cosmic bellhop are only some of the more egregious examples. There’s also “Fire Marshal Jesus” – pray a little prayer and Fire Marshal Jesus will give you a get out of hell free card. Conversely, we also know many who love the Jesus of the book of Revelations, the violent Jesus who will smite all their enemies. Smite on, King Jesus! They really look forward to seeing their enemies being tormented with fire and sulphur, and the smoke of their torment going up forever. This Jesus will fight all our battles for us. We’ll sit in the bleachers and cheer. I’ll observe that generally when Jesus hates the same folks we do, we may have given Jesus an extreme makeover in our own image. Or there’s therapeutic Jesus, Jesus our best friend forever, who will help us get over our low self-esteem and neurosis. He’s very accepting, and doesn’t ask much. Kinda like Barney on the kid’s show….”I love you, you love me….” Don’t misunderstand me – I firmly believe that Jesus brings healing of body, mind, and spirit. It’s why we pray for people every week. I believe – and have said so repeatedly - that Jesus ministered to those on the margins, including those – especially those - whom the religious establishment rejected. And in the life to come, God will wipe away every tear. But Jesus didn’t die on the cross just to give us warm fuzzies.
“But who do you say that I am?” Really, many of the alternatives I mentioned are partly true – Jesus was indeed a prophet, Jesus does indeed offer salvation from hell, and Jesus does indeed answer prayer – but any one of these is only part of the answer, and all are coming from a place of focusing on our own need. Who are you, Jesus – You are the Christ, the Anointed One, the Messiah – God the Son, the second person in the Trinity, God the Word who became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth, who calls us to deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow him. Those who seek to save their lives will lose it, and those who lose their lives for the sake of the Gospel will save it.
The Jesus of our Gospel reading today is an uncomfortable Jesus. He tells us things we don’t really want to hear. He makes demands. And He calls us to follow in his way.
Jesus told his disciples that those who would save their lives will lose it, but those who lose their lives will save it. These words of Jesus were not just for his disciples, but are for us. As individual disciples of Jesus and as a congregation, playing it safe is, in the long run, a loser’s game. We’ll shrivel up and die. Only by taking the risk of following Jesus will we find true life.
I’ve talked a lot about taking risks and following Jesus – but haven’t offered a lot of specifics. There are some practical opportunities to experience this type of discipleship. And fortunately, it’s only mildly risky. The Bridesburg Council of Churches needs assistance (that's an understatement!) for the expansion of its feeding program. On Mondays, there will be the need for help unloading food. On Tuesdays, mid-day and evening, there is need to help staff the food bank. Yes, there’s a sacrifice of time, and we’re all very busy. And yes, there is theoretically the risk of helping people that we may not know very well – the risk of being taken advantage of, the risk that we’ll be asked for more help than we can offer. But this is an opportunity to meet our neighbors in a new way. You may find that in giving time and assistance, you receive. In blessing others, we may be blessed. If you're interested in helping, please let me know and I'll put you in touch with those running the food cupboard.
After Jesus’ conversation with Peter, Jesus heals another blind man, Bartimaeus. In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus’ conversation with Peter is preceded and followed by healings from blindness. I believe that in telling the story in this way, Mark was making the point that Jesus not only healed physical blindness, but also healed the spiritual blindness of his followers, opening their eyes to a clearer vision of who Jesus was, and what God was asking of Jesus and of them. May Jesus also open our eyes to a new vision of faithful discipleship for Emanuel United Church of Christ, and where Jesus leads, may we have courage to follow. Amen.
Interested in a closer relationship with Jesus? Please join us for worship on Sundays at 10 a.m. at Emanuel United Church of Christ, Fillmore Street off Thompson. www.emanuelphila.org
Mark begins his Gospel, as we’ve noted several times, “the beginning of the good news of Jesus of Nazareth the Son of God.” This is followed by a series of vignettes – healings in Jewish territory, questions by the religious authorities and doubts even among his own family, missions into Gentile territory, where he heals many and is heard gladly. We get some glimpses of his preaching – parables about seeds sown on different types of soil. We get, not one, but two feeding stories – the feeding of 5,000 men (plus women and children) with five loaves and two fish, with 12 baskets left over, and the feeding of the 4,000 from 7 loaves and 2 fish, with 7 baskets left over. There is the story of Jesus calming the wind and waves. Commentators have noted that basically all of these stories are, in effect, presented as exorcisms, as forces of disease, hunger, and natural disaster are driven away by Jesus.
The narrative up until today’s reading has a number of themes – many miracles and healings, accounts of teaching in parables, skepticism from his family and his hometown, increasing opposition among the religious establishment, and increasing outreach to the surrounding Gentile community. All of this against the backdrop of John the Baptist’s proclamation, and John’s eventual beheading by Herod. So the grace from God and danger from human misunderstanding and opposition are both factors leading up to today’s reading. Today’s reading opens with an account of Jesus healing a blind man. Jesus leads the man out of the village where he had been, lays his hands upon the man, and the man says he can see – sort of – but the people to him look like tree trunks walking around. Jesus lays his hands on the man again, and his sight is completely restored. Jesus tells the man not to return to the village – not to return to what for him had been a place of blindness, but to move forward with his newly-restored vision.
Having sent the man on his way, Jesus leads into his question by asking, “Who do other people say that I am.” What’s the buzz? He gets a variety of answers – Elijah, or John the Baptist come back to life, or a prophet. All acknowledgements that Jesus was someone special, not a run of the mill religious leader. It’s likely an answer he expected, yet perhaps not quite the answer he was looking for.
“Who do you say that I am?” Peter, always one to open his mouth before engaging his brain, comes out with “You are the Messiah, the Anointed One.” Jesus cautions him to tell nobody of this. Then Jesus begins to tell them that the Son of Man must suffer and be executed. Peter takes Jesus aside and tells Jesus to stop being such a gloomy Gus. “These things will never happen to you, Jesus” But Jesus in turn rebuked Peter in front of everyone, saying “Get behind me, Satan – you’re thinking from a human viewpoint, not from God’s viewpoint."
“Who do you say that I am?” Jesus’ question is not only for Peter, but for us. In many ways, our answer will not only tell us who we think Jesus is, but who we ourselves are as well – sort of like a psychologist asking a patient to describe their response to an ink blot – our responses may say more about ourselves than about what we’re describing.
“They say you are John the Baptist, or Elijah, or one of the prophets.” This answer does two things at the same time – it gives an appearance of great respect, but it also distances us from having to make a commitment. Think of those who are admired in our day as saints – Mother Teresa, or Gandhi for example. We look up to them as wonderful people. God bless ‘em. But we don’t necessarily feel compelled to follow their example – we can just admire, from a safe distance.
“God forbid, Lord - These things will never happen to you.” Mark doesn’t tell us what Peter said when he took Jesus aside, but these words are Matthew’s version of Peter’s reaction when Jesus spoke of his impending suffering. Peter confessed Jesus as the Messiah – but what kind of Messiah? One who would gloriously free Israel from Roman rule? And this is the Messiah that many in church look for today – the Messiah that will solve all our problems. The “name it and claim it”, “prosperity gospel” folks who think of Jesus as their cosmic bellhop are only some of the more egregious examples. There’s also “Fire Marshal Jesus” – pray a little prayer and Fire Marshal Jesus will give you a get out of hell free card. Conversely, we also know many who love the Jesus of the book of Revelations, the violent Jesus who will smite all their enemies. Smite on, King Jesus! They really look forward to seeing their enemies being tormented with fire and sulphur, and the smoke of their torment going up forever. This Jesus will fight all our battles for us. We’ll sit in the bleachers and cheer. I’ll observe that generally when Jesus hates the same folks we do, we may have given Jesus an extreme makeover in our own image. Or there’s therapeutic Jesus, Jesus our best friend forever, who will help us get over our low self-esteem and neurosis. He’s very accepting, and doesn’t ask much. Kinda like Barney on the kid’s show….”I love you, you love me….” Don’t misunderstand me – I firmly believe that Jesus brings healing of body, mind, and spirit. It’s why we pray for people every week. I believe – and have said so repeatedly - that Jesus ministered to those on the margins, including those – especially those - whom the religious establishment rejected. And in the life to come, God will wipe away every tear. But Jesus didn’t die on the cross just to give us warm fuzzies.
“But who do you say that I am?” Really, many of the alternatives I mentioned are partly true – Jesus was indeed a prophet, Jesus does indeed offer salvation from hell, and Jesus does indeed answer prayer – but any one of these is only part of the answer, and all are coming from a place of focusing on our own need. Who are you, Jesus – You are the Christ, the Anointed One, the Messiah – God the Son, the second person in the Trinity, God the Word who became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth, who calls us to deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow him. Those who seek to save their lives will lose it, and those who lose their lives for the sake of the Gospel will save it.
The Jesus of our Gospel reading today is an uncomfortable Jesus. He tells us things we don’t really want to hear. He makes demands. And He calls us to follow in his way.
Jesus told his disciples that those who would save their lives will lose it, but those who lose their lives will save it. These words of Jesus were not just for his disciples, but are for us. As individual disciples of Jesus and as a congregation, playing it safe is, in the long run, a loser’s game. We’ll shrivel up and die. Only by taking the risk of following Jesus will we find true life.
I’ve talked a lot about taking risks and following Jesus – but haven’t offered a lot of specifics. There are some practical opportunities to experience this type of discipleship. And fortunately, it’s only mildly risky. The Bridesburg Council of Churches needs assistance (that's an understatement!) for the expansion of its feeding program. On Mondays, there will be the need for help unloading food. On Tuesdays, mid-day and evening, there is need to help staff the food bank. Yes, there’s a sacrifice of time, and we’re all very busy. And yes, there is theoretically the risk of helping people that we may not know very well – the risk of being taken advantage of, the risk that we’ll be asked for more help than we can offer. But this is an opportunity to meet our neighbors in a new way. You may find that in giving time and assistance, you receive. In blessing others, we may be blessed. If you're interested in helping, please let me know and I'll put you in touch with those running the food cupboard.
After Jesus’ conversation with Peter, Jesus heals another blind man, Bartimaeus. In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus’ conversation with Peter is preceded and followed by healings from blindness. I believe that in telling the story in this way, Mark was making the point that Jesus not only healed physical blindness, but also healed the spiritual blindness of his followers, opening their eyes to a clearer vision of who Jesus was, and what God was asking of Jesus and of them. May Jesus also open our eyes to a new vision of faithful discipleship for Emanuel United Church of Christ, and where Jesus leads, may we have courage to follow. Amen.
Interested in a closer relationship with Jesus? Please join us for worship on Sundays at 10 a.m. at Emanuel United Church of Christ, Fillmore Street off Thompson. www.emanuelphila.org
Saturday, March 28, 2009
We Would See Jesus
My somewhat-odd sermon title comes from the King James Version rendition of our Gospel text. Near the end of Jesus’ public ministry, as pilgrims are flooding into Jerusalem for the Passover festival, Jesus is in Jerusalem as well. Some Greeks – likely Gentiles, certainly at least to some extent outsiders at the festival – approach Philip with the words, “Sir, we would see Jesus.” Philip goes to Andrew, and then Philip and Andrew present them to Jesus.
It is a secret to nobody that churches don’t draw the numbers they once did. At one time, in the 1950’s, it was expected that families who wanted to be considered upstanding citizens would attend church, not necessarily out of strong conviction, but because it was a social obligation, the thing to do. Those days are long behind us. And maybe it’s not even entirely a bad thing - it’s possible, maybe even likely, that many of those people were attending church for the wrong reason, seeking decorum instead of discipleship; respectability instead of repentance; status instead of servanthood. These days, going to church is no longer the thing to do, but only one of a vast variety of possible things to do.
People no longer just sort of drift through our front door into worship by osmosis or inertia. Those who come to church, make the effort because they are seeking something. Something or someone – a sense of being spiritually connected to God and neighbor, a place where one can ask deep questions about big issues, a place to be embraced by a loving community, a place to find peace and healing and restoration. While the words may not be there, at some level those who visit our church or any church make the request, “Sir – Ma’am – we would see Jesus.”
What will they find? Will they find Jesus? I’m concerned that many of our congregations are so cluttered with other priorities that Jesus gets lost in the shuffle. Christian writer Michael Spencer, in an article called “The Coming Evangelical Collapse” envisions a future a generation or two from now, of half-empty (or more) evangelical churches, of ministries shuttering their doors for lack of funds and supporters. He sees this as the outcome of a too-close alliance between the more visible TV preachers and public evangelists and political conservatives, with the result that if you ask your average Joe on the street what evangelical Christians are like – and surveys have been done on this very question by respected polling organizations - they’ll tell you that Christians are people who are really angry about one or two hot-button social issues. While the intent may be to “love the sinner while hating the sin,” often the “hate” part is the only part that comes across. Among the unchurched, Christians are seen as people who hate. Let that sink in for just a minute…Christians are seen as people who hate. Yet the Jesus of the Bible attracts the unchurched, so they come to us requesting, “Sir – Ma’am, we would see Jesus.” Can Jesus be found among the calls of condemnation?
And sometimes we don’t do so good ourselves. When is the last time you or I actually shared our faith with someone? We can tell people about our church history, about the groups that share our space, about our auctions and rummage sales – and all that is valuable and there’s time for all that - but can we tell people about Jesus? To use the words of the old hymn, do we love to tell the story of Jesus and His love?
The truth is that all of us, as Christians, are windows through which others may see Jesus. At our worst, we can obscure that light, so that our neighbors see only our own fear and anger. A preacher friend of mine, who sometimes spreads herself too thin, sometimes acknowledges those moments when she’s not at her best by saying, “I’m afraid my congregation saw a little too much of me today, and not enough of Jesus.” At our best, though, our lives are like stained glass through which the light of God’s love shines, making patterns of beauty and joy and peace in the lives of those around us. May those who approach us with the request, “Sir – Ma’am – we would see Jesus” find what they’re looking for.
It is a secret to nobody that churches don’t draw the numbers they once did. At one time, in the 1950’s, it was expected that families who wanted to be considered upstanding citizens would attend church, not necessarily out of strong conviction, but because it was a social obligation, the thing to do. Those days are long behind us. And maybe it’s not even entirely a bad thing - it’s possible, maybe even likely, that many of those people were attending church for the wrong reason, seeking decorum instead of discipleship; respectability instead of repentance; status instead of servanthood. These days, going to church is no longer the thing to do, but only one of a vast variety of possible things to do.
People no longer just sort of drift through our front door into worship by osmosis or inertia. Those who come to church, make the effort because they are seeking something. Something or someone – a sense of being spiritually connected to God and neighbor, a place where one can ask deep questions about big issues, a place to be embraced by a loving community, a place to find peace and healing and restoration. While the words may not be there, at some level those who visit our church or any church make the request, “Sir – Ma’am – we would see Jesus.”
What will they find? Will they find Jesus? I’m concerned that many of our congregations are so cluttered with other priorities that Jesus gets lost in the shuffle. Christian writer Michael Spencer, in an article called “The Coming Evangelical Collapse” envisions a future a generation or two from now, of half-empty (or more) evangelical churches, of ministries shuttering their doors for lack of funds and supporters. He sees this as the outcome of a too-close alliance between the more visible TV preachers and public evangelists and political conservatives, with the result that if you ask your average Joe on the street what evangelical Christians are like – and surveys have been done on this very question by respected polling organizations - they’ll tell you that Christians are people who are really angry about one or two hot-button social issues. While the intent may be to “love the sinner while hating the sin,” often the “hate” part is the only part that comes across. Among the unchurched, Christians are seen as people who hate. Let that sink in for just a minute…Christians are seen as people who hate. Yet the Jesus of the Bible attracts the unchurched, so they come to us requesting, “Sir – Ma’am, we would see Jesus.” Can Jesus be found among the calls of condemnation?
And sometimes we don’t do so good ourselves. When is the last time you or I actually shared our faith with someone? We can tell people about our church history, about the groups that share our space, about our auctions and rummage sales – and all that is valuable and there’s time for all that - but can we tell people about Jesus? To use the words of the old hymn, do we love to tell the story of Jesus and His love?
The truth is that all of us, as Christians, are windows through which others may see Jesus. At our worst, we can obscure that light, so that our neighbors see only our own fear and anger. A preacher friend of mine, who sometimes spreads herself too thin, sometimes acknowledges those moments when she’s not at her best by saying, “I’m afraid my congregation saw a little too much of me today, and not enough of Jesus.” At our best, though, our lives are like stained glass through which the light of God’s love shines, making patterns of beauty and joy and peace in the lives of those around us. May those who approach us with the request, “Sir – Ma’am – we would see Jesus” find what they’re looking for.
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