Sunday, May 22, 2016

Tables



Scriptures:       Acts 11:1-18, Psalm 148     Revelation 21:1-6,  John 13:31-35



When I was in high school, what mattered from a socializing point of view was my table – that is, whose table I sat at in the cafeteria for lunch…or more like, who was willing to let me sit at their table in the cafeteria.  Jocks sat with other jocks, cheerleaders with other cheerleaders, brains with other brains, stoners with other stoners, and so forth.  Since at that age I had the social skills of a house plant, I generally grabbed a spot somewhere off in a corner someplace and hoped nobody would notice my presence – because when people noticed I was there, bad things happened to me, like I’d end up wearing the lunch I’d intended to eat.  If I was lucky, that’s all that would happen to me.
The conversation in our reading from Acts reminded me a bit of those long-gone high school days.  Peter had been out spreading the gospel, and now went to Jerusalem, to the mother church, the main gathering of believers.  And when Peter arrived, some of the more conservative of the Jewish believers called him on the carpet.  “Why do you go to the uncircumcised and eat with them?”  It sounds like a conversation that belongs in a high school cafeteria…..”I can’t believe you ate lunch with those stoners! Did one of them offer to roll you a joint?”  But in that society, who you ate with was a big deal.  Jews considered themselves the chosen people, and by and large tried to deal as little as possible with those they considered un-chosen.  They had – and still have - lots of guidelines about what was ok to eat and what wasn’t, when it was ok to work and when it wasn’t, and so forth  And even though in his earthly ministry, Jesus preached to and healed Jews and Gentiles alike, and was willing to heal people even if the occasion for healing fell on the Sabbath, and didn’t obsess over kosher laws around food – some of those who converted to the way of Jesus still held to their long-held traditions.  And when they heard that Peter was eating with non-Jews, they were scandalized.
And so Peter told them about the vision he’d had prior to his visit to the Roman centurion Cornelius – a sheet lowered from heaven, filled with all kinds of animals considered non-kosher, not ok to eat, in a word, “icky”, and a voice from heaven saying “Get up, Peter, kill and eat.”  Three times the sheet was lowered, three times the voice “Get up, Peter, kill and eat”, three times Peter protested, “No way, I’ve always kept kosher, and I’ve never eaten anything unclean”, and three times the voice responded, “What God has called clean, don’t you dare call unclean.”  And after this vision, the emissaries from the Roman centurion Cornelius were knocking on Peter’s door.  Peter went to the house of Cornelius, and baptized him and his household, and the Holy Spirit came on Cornelius and his house just as had happened with the Jewish believers.  Peter concluded, “If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I to hinder God?" When they – those who earlier had called Peter on the carpet - heard this, they were silenced. And they praised God, saying, "Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life."
Tables.  Whether was in Jesus’ day, or in the high school cafeteria, tables matter.  Who we’re willing to eat with matters, because who we’re willing to eat with – or not eat with - says something about us, about who we are as people.  Jesus envisioned the kingdom of heaven as a great banquet, and the history of the church – the church at its best anyway - has been about reaching out and going out into the highways and byways to invite people, even or especially the last, the least, and the lost – to the banquet.  It’s worth noting that, in Mark’s gospel, the story of Herod’s banquet, attended by his elite invitees, at which Herod’s daughter made the request for the head of John the  Baptist on a platter, is immediately followed by the story of Jesus’ feeding the five thousand.  And that’s no accident; Mark’s putting these two banquet stories side-by-side was very purposeful.  Two very different banquets, with two very different agendas.
Tables matter.  In our day, we have a responsibility, not only to invite others to the table, but to care for the table itself – that is to say, our planet, our environment, from which we get our food and water and air and everything else needful for human life.  I said “our planet”, but really it’s God’s planet – as Psalm 24:1 says, “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fullness thereof.”  The planet is ours only in the sense that it’s the place we live, not that it’s ours to do with as we wish.  God has put us here, not as owners, but as stewards, to care for the earth.  And in our lack of care for the environment, we – the human race – are like obnoxious houseguests who trash the host’s house.  I was very purposeful in choosing our 2nd hymn today, “Many and Great”, because the descendants of the American Indians who were here before us continue to implore us to care for the earth, to consider the effects our actions will have not only for ourselves and our children, but to the seventh generation of descendants from those alive today.  Many locations near us carry names given them by the Lenape Indians – Conshohocken, where I live, Wissahickon, Manayunk – but the Indians who named these places were killed or driven off the land, and today live in poverty on reservations. (An aside: roughly 20 small American Indian congregations of the United Church of Christ, mostly located in the Dakotas and Minnesota, comprise the Council for American Indian Ministry[1] – so these are our sisters and brothers within the UCC.) Even today, in the Midwest and southwest, American Indians are threatened with being driven off the small amounts of reservation land left to them, when mining interests want their land, such as in Oak Flat, Arizona, where land considered sacred by the Apache Indians in that area was transferred without permission to the Resolution Copper Mining company, and the tribes are fighting to get it back.   
Much closer to home, we have our own challenges.  Fracking – using pressurized fluid consisting of water, sand, and chemicals, to extract oil from shale formations, is a way to provide fuel, but at considerable risk of groundwater contamination – water used for fracking can’t be used for human consumption.   Wells near fracking sites have been contaminated with methane, and some homeowners near fracking sites can light their tap water on fire.   At the same time, renewable technologies – solar and wind power – are improving and becoming more affordable, and there are increasing calls, regarding fossil fuels, to “leave it in the ground”.
We need to care for the table – for our environment – so that we can invite others to the table. Our reading from Revelation was written by John, who was exiled to the island of Patmos – one of Rome’s dumping grounds for those the empire considered troublemakers, who, as the back of our bulletin covers notes, were forced to work as slaves in the island’s quarry.   John had been exiled from the table of the Roman empire, but from his vantage point he had a vision of a different table:  “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea”….the sea that separated John from all that he had known and loved….”the sea was no more.  And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,
      "See, the home of God is among mortals.
        He will dwell with them as their God;
            they will be his peoples,
        and God himself will be with them”
John saw a new heaven and a new earth…..but this will happen on God’s time.  In the meantime, God has given us this earth to care for, and our neighbors to invite to the table.  May we be grateful to God for providing for our needs, and show our gratitude by sharing with our neighbors.  Amen.


[1] http://caimucc.org/

Free - Pastor's Message, April 2016



Dear Emanuel Members and Friends –

“When they reached Capernaum, the collectors of the temple tax came to Peter and said, ‘Does your teacher not pay the temple tax?’ He said, ‘Yes, he does.’ And when he came home, Jesus spoke of it first, asking, ‘What do you think, Simon? From whom do kings of the earth take toll or tribute? From their children or from others?’ When Peter said, ‘From others’, Jesus said to him, ‘Then the children are free. However, so that we do not give offence to them, go to the lake and cast a hook; take the first fish that comes up; and when you open its mouth, you will find a coin; take that and give it to them for you and me.’”  Matthew 17:24-27

‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.’ Luke 4:18-19, citing Isaiah 58:6 and Isaiah 61:1-2


Then Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, ‘If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.’ They answered him, ‘We are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, “You will be made free”?’  Jesus answered them, ‘Very truly, I tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not have a permanent place in the household; the son has a place there forever. So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed. John 8:31-37

The passage from Matthew above is an odd text, rarely heard in worship because it’s not included in the selection of weekly lectionary texts read on Sunday mornings.  However, in this month of April in which many scramble to meet tax filing deadlines, the text seems both odd and oddly appropriate.  In Jesus’ society, the people were forced to pay taxes both as tribute to the Roman empire and for support of the Temple in Jerusalem.   In some European countries, there is a somewhat similar system; churches are supported by taxes collected by the state; these churches in turn administer assistance and charitable programs on the state’s behalf.  While we in the United States pay no taxes to support our houses of worship, in years long past, people paid annual pew rental fees to the church as part of their membership obligation.  In fact, according to the church history, it was during the pastorate of the Rev. Felix Steinmann (1918-1923) that Emanuel phased out pew rentals in favor of our current envelope system.   The old system of “paying for your pew” may explain why, in some churches, members can be very possessive of “their” pews, and woe betide any unsuspecting visitor who wanders into “someone else’s” pew.  (Of course, at Emanuel, we have ample space for anyone wishing to find a seat in worship among us, free of charge, though voluntary tithes, offerings, and donations are most welcome!)

As we read it, this text from Matthew pulls us in several different directions.  Peter is accosted by some collectors of the Temple tax, who with their questions come close to accusing Jesus of Temple tax evasion.  Without checking first, Peter (who frequently opened his mouth before engaging his brain) duly vouches for Jesus’ credentials as a dutiful, taxpaying supporter of the Temple.  When Peter got home (where Jesus was evidently staying at that time) Jesus asked him a question that pushed Peter to consider the tax from a different angle: “From whom do the kings of the earth collect tribute – from their own children or from others?”  Based on Peter’s answer “From others”, Jesus concludes, “Then the children are free.”  In other words, why should God’s children have to pay tribute in order to enter God’s house?  Having said this, Jesus still wanted to act in solidarity with his fellow citizens who were paying the Temple tax, and so with the help of a whimsical, almost comical miracle (a coin found in the mouth of a fish, of just the right value), by God’s provision, Jesus arranged for Peter to come upon sufficient coinage to pay the Temple tax for Peter and himself.

I would not advise any of our members to try catching fish in hopes of finding sufficient coinage to pay our taxes.  But a phrase used by Jesus – “the children are free” – stuck in my mind.  “The children are free.”  What did Jesus mean by that? 

I looked up several other texts in which Jesus spoke of freedom.  In Luke’s gospel, Jesus’ first sermon, based on texts from Isaiah, spoke of “let(ting) the oppressed go free”, along with release from captivity, blindness, and poverty, as part of Jesus’ mission statement.  And in John’s gospel (in a text that likewise is rarely heard in worship because it was not included in the lectionary readings), Jesus speaks of a freedom that comes from knowing the truth (“you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free”), a truth that sets Jesus’ followers free from sin (“everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin….if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.”)

These texts have often been interpreted as pointing to some ethereal, other-worldly freedom that Christians will receive in heaven after we pass from this life, as in the old African-American spiritual “Soon I will be done with the troubles of the world.”  And it is very true that indeed, when we have passed from this life and are with the saints in heaven, we “will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike [us], nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be [our] shepherd, and he will guide [us] to the springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from [our] eyes.” 

But to say that we will experience freedom only in heaven is to justify the lack of freedom we often experience in this life, the lack of freedom that some people impose on others, and I don’t believe that is Jesus’ intent.  Jesus was not, as the phrase goes, “so heavenly minded as to be of no earthly good” though unfortunately through the ages many of his followers have been.  In his time on earth, Jesus gave sight to the blind, healed the sick, fed the hungry, and preached good news to the poor.  He didn’t just tell them that their lives would be better in heaven, but made their lives better right on the spot as he met them.

“You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free…..if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.”  While freedom may not be the first word we’d associate with Christian faith – we may think more readily of duties, obligations, observances, rituals – for Jesus, the truth of his faith in the Father led him to freedom.   At least part of the truth of which Jesus spoke is that as followers of Jesus, we can be freed from the idolatries and false priorities of our society.  We don’t have to scramble for wealth, power, respectability.  We don’t have to get sucked into our society’s myths or live as prisoners to our society’s priorities.  All of that scrambling and chasing and keeping up of appearances is crazy-making – literally bad for our mental health - and Jesus liberates us to walk away from all of it, to leave it behind.  We can walk away from our society’s myth of rugged self-reliance and join the community of faith that Jesus envisioned, which was not just about worshiping one day a week, but about helping and being helped by other members of the community every day of the week, as we act as family to one another. (“Jesus said, ‘Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold in this age – houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions – and in the age to come eternal life.’” Mark 10:29-31)   

Jesus makes us “free indeed” from idolatries and false priorities – which Jesus names under the category of “sin” - that would drain us of needed physical, emotional, and spiritual energy.  Having been freed from sin, from idolatry, from idle distractions and false priorities, we are freed to love and serve God and neighbor with singleness of mind.  May we live in the freedom that Jesus intended for us.

See you in church – Pastor Dave     

For The Sheep



Scriptures:  Acts 9:34-43, Psalm 23    Revelation 7:9-17,  John 10:11-30

A song on the radio by the duo Rock City, featuring vocals by Adam Levine, goes roughly as follows:
If I got locked away and we lost it all today
Tell me honestly would you still love me the same
If I showed you my flaws if I couldn’t be strong
Tell me honestly would you still love me the same
(Obviously, I have no plans on quitting my day job.)              
While I doubt the writers created the song with any particular spiritual commitments in mind, I think the lyrics point to something important:  I think we all want to be loved and cared for, not only when we’re strong but also when we’re weak, not only when we’re at our best but also when we’re at our absolute rock-bottom worst, not only when we can do for others or give to others, but when we’re weak and empty-handed and can’t even do for ourselves, when indeed all we have to offer is ourselves – and ourselves feel broken and next to worthless.  All of this can be summed up with two words:  unconditional love.  Unconditional love.  Love without conditions.
On this Good Shepherd Sunday, we remember Jesus who promised his followers this unconditional love.  “I am the Good Shepherd.  I lay my life down for the sheep.  The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away – and the wolf snatches them and scatters them.  The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep.  I am the good shepherd.”   Elsewhere in the Gospels, Jesus speaks of being the shepherd who will leave the ninety-nine sheep who are in safety, to go in search of the one sheep who had gotten separated from the flock, and to bring that one to safety before the wolf can get to it.

Unconditional love:  delightful to receive, very hard to give.  As infants and young children, if our families are at least somewhat functional, we may get some sense of what it feels like, as our parents will likely stand by us even if everybody else turns away.  And yet, at times addiction and other problems can break even the love between mother and child, if mother or father becomes too incapacitated to care for the child, or if the grown child becomes addicted and the mother and father have to cut off contact, for the safety and well-being of the rest of the family.  Certainly, as an adult, unconditional love is hard to come by.  Those who take the vows of marriage may promise to have and to hold from this day forward, for better and for worse, for richer,  for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish from this day forward, as long as both shall live. Yet not all marry, and of those who do, many find themselves in circumstances in which they find themselves unable to live out their vows.
Truly, only God can sustain unconditional love perfectly, over the course of our lives.  What love we offer is often conditional – I’ll love you so long as you act as I want you to, so long as you meet my conditions, or at the very least, I’ll love you so far as you don’t step over this line - and what unconditional love we can offer may be uneven and fitful at best.  But I believe Jesus was not only trying to get his followers to see him as the good shepherd, but to form a community in which the members of the community could be good shepherds to one another – a community that would care for its members, a community that would be there for its members, even when they fell down, even when they failed, as we all do at one time or another.

It’s a lot to live up to, and Jesus’ metaphor of sheep and wolves has its limits.  After all, in nature, sheep are sheep, and wolves are wolves.  In nature, we don’t see sheep turning into wolves, or wolves turning into sheep.  But in the community of faith, the member who we saw as a sheep may grow and mature into a shepherd, or degenerate into a wolf or some other kind of animal….in my life as a Christian over several decades in a variety of churches, while I’ve encountered very, very few people that I recognized as true wolves in sheep’s clothing – and most of those few have been TV evangelists, most of whom are incredibly predatory on their viewers - I have met a few here and there that I experienced as turkeys in sheep’s clothing, or dare I say, jackasses in sheep's clothing.  While turkeys are tasty and jackasses aren’t end end of the world, they don’t belong with the sheep.  Jesus described himself as a shepherd, not a zookeeper.  God created the turkeys; God loves the turkeys; but it may be that I am not the person God is calling to lead them.  Or I may be called on to care for them, but separately from the sheep.  What’s good for turkeys may be bad for sheep, and vice versa.  It’s just like that sometimes.

Jesus spoke of “other sheep, that do not belong to this fold.”  Jesus said, “I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice.  So there will be one flock, one shepherd.”  In Jesus’ immediate context, this would have referred to the Gentiles who were not members of the Jewish community of faith in which Jesus began his ministry, and yet would hear the Good Shepherd’s voice and come to respond powerfully to Jesus’ message.  But down through the centuries, there are always those whom our society has labeled as “other” – people of color, immigrants, women, LGBT persons – and these are also among the other sheep who hear Jesus’ voice, and whom Jesus is gathering into his one flock, for whom Jesus seeks to be the one shepherd.  The church is at its best when it gathers into community those whom society has “othered”.   It may be hard for us to imagine, but the early church was radical in allowing Jews and Gentiles to share table fellowship, in allowing women to share with men in leadership – in our day it seems tame, but this was radical, edgy behavior in Jesus’ day.  And as Christians we are still called to push the boundaries that our society has set up to keep us divided.

We get a picture of what this community might have looked like in our reading from Acts.  We’re told about a disciple named Tabitha, whose Greek name was Dorcas – we’re told that both Tabitha and Dorcas mean gazelle, which gives us an image of a lovely animal leaping and bounding with energy.  We’re told she was devoted to good works and acts of charity – and that she had died.  In many communities of the day with its patriarchal attitudes, the death of a woman would have meant little beyond her family members, but this woman was greatly loved within her church community – so much so that the members would not accept her death.  They learned that Peter, the one whom Jesus had called “Rock”, was nearby, and so they sent to him.  Peter came, and we’re told that the other women were weeping and showing the articles of clothing the woman had made for them…..it’s really a moving image, seeing the impact this woman with her acts of charity had made.  Even though she had no official title, Dorcas was clearly a leader, an anchor within that community.  And then Peter knelt in prayer, and then said, “Tabitha, get up!” – and she opened her eyes and got up. 

When I read of the story of Dorcas making her tunics and other clothing, I’m reminded of my most recent trip to Cuba, in 2012, with a group from the Pennsylvania Southeast Conference visiting a group of progressive Baptist churches in Cuba.  One church we visited was First Baptist Church in Matanzas, Cuba.  Today it’s a thriving church, among the strongest in the city of Matanzas.  But in the early days after the Cuban revolution, when the Castro government was very suspicious of churches, most ministers fled the island.  They truly acted as the hirelings in Jesus’ parable, who cut and run at the first sign of trouble.  In those difficult years, it was a small group of women, fewer than a dozen, who kept First Baptist open.  Even though they had no pastor and no sermons to guide them, they met for worship week after week, month after month, for years on end, singing the hymns they remembered, and also sewing and knitting for the needs of the community.  It was from this church that I bought the cloth with the sheep hanging from the lectern.  These few faithful, persistent women were the Dorcases who kept the light of faith burning in hopes of better days, and their faithfulness was richly rewarded, even though some likely did not live to see their community’s resurgence.

Living in Christian community is really hard stuff.  Listening for the shepherd’s voice, welcoming sheep from outside the fold, fending off the wolves and driving away other animals that don’t belong with the sheep – none of this is easy.  This is hard stuff.  But we are better off for making the effort.  I believe part of the reason so many families are under stress and so many marriages go under is that they are living without the resources of community support, particularly the support of the community of faith.  They try to carry a burden that is too heavy for them, that they were never intended to carry alone, and needlessly so.  No one person can be everything to another person.  No one person can entirely meet another person’s needs.  Within the community of faith, we can bear one another’s burdens, support one another’s families, and that way share the burdens of life – and also the resources life offers us – so that everyone can be sustained.   True, no community is perfect, and every community has its share of Nosy Parkers, to use an old cliché.  Even so, it’s a much richer experience than trying to go it alone.  

Jesus said, “I am the good shepherd.  I lay down my life for the sheep.  I know my own, and my own know me….My sheep hear my voice.  I know them, and they follow me.”  May we hear the voice of the Good Shepherd, and may those around us hear the voice of the Good Shepherd in our words of kindness and deeds of love.  Amen.