Sunday, September 2, 2012

Solidarity Forever - A Labor Day Sermon



Scriptures:  Deuteronomy 4:1-8   James 1:17-27, Mark 7:1-23
We’ve turned the page on the calendar.  September has arrived, and with it a new sequence of Scripture readings.  For our Gospel readings, we’ve taken leave of the long “bread of life” discourse in John’s Gospel and are now back in the fast-moving, action-packed Gospel of Mark – where, in the original Greek, the words “kai euthus” – translated to English - “and immediately” – recur over and over throughout. Jesus went here and immediately did this, and immediately Jesus went there and immediately did that. While both John’s and Mark’s Gospel tell us about Jesus, their ways of telling the story couldn’t be more different.  And for our epistle readings, we’ve left Paul’s letter to the Ephesians and embarked on a journey through the letter of James.  James was the brother of Jesus, and was head of the church at Jerusalem.  And the contrast between Ephesians and James is at least as strong as between the Gospels of John and Mark.  While Ephesians offers intricate doctrinal statements of belief and a very high Christology, the emphasis of James is on human deeds and human actions.   You could say metaphorically that James is from Missouri, known as the “show me” state.  At one point, he just about comes out and tells his readers, “Don’t just tell me about your faith, show me.”  James has been categorized as a sort of Christian wisdom literature, similar in style to the books of Proverbs or Ecclesiastes.

James tells us to be doers of the word, and not just hearers.  James compares the word of God to a sort of mirror that shows us to ourselves.  But the mirror provided by God’s word is only effective if we act on what we see.  And what it means to be doers of the Word, James will tell us over the next several weeks.  Today’s reading gives us a few hints:  James speaks of generous acts of giving as coming from above; urges his readers to be quick to listen but slow to speak, and slower still to give in to anger; most of all, James defines pure and undefiled religion as “to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.” 

“Be doers of the word, and not hearers only.”   The writer of James would probably appreciate Danish pastor Soren Kierkegaard’s famous parable about a flock of geese in a barnyard who had the gift of speech – and so they came together every Sunday for worship.  Every Sunday they would gather, and one old gander would stand up every week and preach about what high goals God had for the geese, for God had given them the gift of wings with which they could leave earth, soar into the air, and fly to distant lands, where they would be at home, for in the barnyard they were only strangers and aliens. And the congregation would listen attentively and then waddle home – on their feet, not their wings.  For while they liked to hear every Sunday about wings and flying, they were none too keen to actually stretch their wings and fly.  Stories circulated about what terrible things befell those geese who actually tried to fly…why, once they took off, they were never seen again.  A few geese took the old gander’s preaching seriously, and began to lose weight and look thin…..and the other geese said, “See, this is what happens when you take all this talk of flying seriously…they’re preoccupied with flying, and so they lose weight and don’t thrive, like us who have become so plump and delicate.  And so the next Sunday they gathered to hear the old gander’s eloquent words about God’s gift of wings and God’s high goal of flying……and so on.

In our Gospel reading, Jesus also has something to tell us about being doers of the word.  Some religious authorities noticed some of Jesus’ disciples eating without washing their hands first, and called them out on it.  Now, let me be the first to say that, as a health measure, I strongly encourage everyone to wash their hands before they eat.  Hospitals these days have very strict hand-washing rules for health care workers, and for good reason.  But the objection to Jesus’ disciples was not on the basis of health or cleanliness, but rather grounded in religious tradition.  Mark’s gospel tells us that the Pharisees had a strong tradition of handwashing grounded in what they called “the tradition of the elders”.  The “tradition of the elders” was instituted over time to apply the Torah to changing circumstances, and to put a sort of fence around the law so that the people would not even come close to transgressing it.  Jesus in turn calls them out on a part of this “tradition of the elders” which gave religious justification for neglecting the duty to care for parents.  He concludes his teaching with a parable:  “There is nothing outside a person that by going in can defile, but the things that come out are what defile.”  Among his disciples, Jesus elaborates on what are the things that come out of a person and defile:  evil intentions and actions such as fornication, theft, murder, adultery, greed, wickedness…a whole laundry list of thoughts and actions that destroyed community.  Failing to wash one’s hands may be inconsiderate, may even spread disease – but nothing on the order of the disease of the soul evident in a society which fails to care for its parents, widows, and orphans.

In both our gospel reading from Mark and our epistle reading from James, the emphasis is on community.  Actions are commanded that maintain and strengthen community – caring for parents, looking after widows and orphans, avoiding careless speech and hasty anger.  These are Scripture readings about where the rubber meets the road, so to speak, about what it looks like when faith in Christ is put into action.  They ask a very basic question:  do we walk the way we talk?  And in these readings, what it means to walk and talk as a Christian is to demonstrate love for neighbor, be it toward one’s own aging parents, or toward widows and orphans with no one to care for them.  It’s about seeking the welfare of the community, about showing solidarity with those in need.

This is, of course, Labor Day weekend.  For many, Labor Day is a welcome day off, but may not have much significance beyond that.  It may be helpful to remember that, along with the Labor Day holiday, many other amenities we take for granted, such as an 8-hour work day, a 40 hour work week, time off on the weekend, health insurance and other benefits, and rules about workplace safety came about through the efforts of organized labor.  Men and women fought and died for these benefits.  There’s little discussion today about long-ago tragedies as the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in 1911, in which management of a non-unionized garment factory had locked exits and blocked stairwells to prevent unauthorized breaks and therefore cut off all avenues for exit when the factory caught fire.  146 workers died in the fire, and this tragedy spurred the formation of the international ladies garment workers union.  Likewise, we hear little of the Battle of Blair Mountain, which took place in West Virginia in late August/early September 1921, about this time of the year some 80 years ago, in the days in which mine workers lived in company towns run by the mine owners, and the workers were often in debt to the company store.  (You may remember the song “Sixteen Tons”, with the sad refrain: “You load sixteen tons and what do you get? Another day older and deeper in debt.  St. Peter don’t you call me ‘cause I can’t go; I owe my soul to the company store.”) Anyway, on Blair Mountain, in West Virginia, in the late summer of 1921, gunfire broke out between members of the United Mine Workers struggling to organize and lawmen and strikebreakers sent in by the mine owners to break the union – and before it was over, President Warren Harding sent in the Army to restore order.  Over 100 were killed and hundreds more injured. 

And yet workers persevered.  Solidarity was the glue that held together the union.  One worker acting alone can’t do much to change the behavior of management, but a walkout by every worker on a shop floor will get management’s attention.  As the first verse of the song Solidarity Forever puts it, “Yet what force on earth is weaker than the feeble strength of one / For the Union makes us strong.”

Concern for fair wages and working conditions is a priority, not only for labor unions, but in Scripture.  Our reading from Deuteronomy underlines the importance for the children of Israel of observing the law, saying that even the surrounding tribes would think more highly of the children of Israel because of their embrace of the law.  Shortly after today’s reading comes Deuteronomy’s restatement of the Ten Commandments – which includes an interesting twist on the commandment to observe the Sabbath.  The version in Exodus justifies the Sabbath by saying that God created the world in six days and rested the seventh day.  By contrast, the version in Deuteronomy 5:12-15 reminds the children of Israel that they had been slaves in Egypt, but now God had taken them out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, and they were slaves no longer.  So in Deuteronomy, neglecting the command to rest on the Sabbath is seen as tantamount to a desire to return to a state of slavery – and for those who work 60 and 70 hour weeks, it can feel like slavery, like their lives are not their own.  Back in the book of James, later on in the book, the writer rails against those who fraudulently withhold the wages of their workers.   

I mention all this because on this Labor Day, many of the gains won by organized labor are in jeopardy.  Here in the States, corporations cut wages and benefits for workers here in the States, cut corners on maintaining workplace safety.  They ship jobs to countries with no labor laws, where garment workers put in long days in miserable conditions for pennies an hour.  And, increasingly, corporations turn to privatized prisons using inmates as a source of cheap labor. The lage scale corporate use of prison labor has been called a new form of slavery. Where does it end?  Will it take another debacle on the order of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire or the Battle of Blair Mountain to change the conversation?   

Solidarity isn’t just for union members.  For those who aren’t union members – for example, accountants like myself just can’t seem to get our act together to organize – solidarity may mean asking questions about the stores we patronize and the products we buy, whether those low, low prices came at the expense of long, long, exhausting, dangerous, poorly paid days of work halfway around the globe. Solidarity may mean looking for the union label, or joining a credit union.  Solidarity may mean shopping sometimes at the mom-and-pop store down the block or buying vegetables from a local farmer, so our money continues to circulate in the local community rather than shopping at the big box store at the mall, where the profits benefit those in some head office located who knows where. Another example: some churches in other cities – it really hasn’t caught on in Philly – make a practice of serving fair-trade coffee, in which buyers are assured that those who picked the coffee beans received fair wages.  In this connection, I would also mention that the national setting of the United Church of Christ has a long record of advocating for the rights of union members, farm workers, and workers in a host of poorly paid occupations – and downstairs I left as an example a few copies of a 2009 statement from the UCC’s Justice & Witness Ministries in support of union organizing.

In loving our neighbor though such acts of solidarity, we act as children of God, who has shown such solidarity with humankind that he sent his own beloved Son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life.  God, who could have washed his hands of humanity and started over, instead loves us with a love that will not let go.  May we rejoice that we are so loved, and may we help our neighbors to rejoice through our acts of solidarity and love.  Amen.
 

To Whom Can We Go



Scriptures:  Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18;  Ephesians 6:10-20;            John 6:56-71


 A common theme of our three Scripture reading today is the choice to follow Jesus. It’s one of the questions that has perplexed the church through the ages:  Why can a person go for decades seemingly uninterested in the things of the Spirit, and then in one moment their live turns around?  Why are people in one place people are hungry for the Gospel, while in other places there’s no interest at all?  When I was in Cuba, the pastors we met, especially on the very rural western side of the island, told us that there was a real hunger to hear the Gospel…one farm worker told us his conversion story in which the farm worker was so amazed to see a pastor dressed in the same way that the worker was, in overalls and work clothes, the pastor humbly working the land, that the farm worker asked the pastor to tell him more…..and eventually the farm worker became a Christian, joined the pastor’s church – and eventually the farm worker himself received training to become a pastor and was in the process of planting a church of his own.  And we who were visiting marveled among ourselves, and asked why moments like that so rarely happen in our experience.

In our Old Testament reading, Joshua, who had led the children of Israel into the promised land, is now old and gray.  Before his death, he calls all the tribes together one last time, reminds them of all that God had done for them, and then puts the question to the people: “Now therefore revere the Lord, and serve him in sincerity and in faithfulness, put away to gods that your ancestors served beyond the River and in Egypt, and serve the Lord.  Now if you are unwilling to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served in the region beyond the River or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are living, but as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”   And at that moment, the people clamor, “We will serve the Lord.”  From our perspective, we know that the people would sometimes fall short, would sometimes fall away, and from time to time would have to be called to repent, be called back to faithfulness.  But Scripture preserves that holy moment when all the people were on the same page, united in saying “We will serve the Lord.”

In today’s reading from John’s Gospel, Jesus concludes a long teaching discourse about himself as the bread of life.  From the standpoint of numbers – especially in our day of megachurches - Jesus’ sermon was an epic failure: he started with the 5,000 whom he had fed and who were ready to hail him as their king, and by the end of the conversation, he’s down to just the twelve disciples – and we know that even one of those twelve will someday betray him.  The crowd was disgusted when they heard Jesus saying such things as “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life.”  From our standpoint, 2000 years later, we know that Jesus wasn’t talking about physically eating his body, but about being sustained by Jesus’ teachings – remember, Jesus told the crowd, “It is the Spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless.  The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life.”  And of course when we hear Jesus’ words about eating his flesh and drinking his blood, we think of Holy Communion.  But the crowds heard Jesus at a very literal level – and what they heard turned their stomach..  And Jesus’ saying that “What if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before?” didn’t make the crowds any more receptive.  The crowds whom Jesus had fed no doubt thought that while Jesus knew how to put on an amazing picnic, the guy was a raving lunatic.  If Jesus thought these folks had the least inclination to nibble on his toes or whatever, it was about time for the crowds to find another meal ticket. 

Even over some 2,000 years, you can hear the discouragement in Jesus’ voice as the crowds walk away, and he asks the twelve – “Do you also wish to go away?”  Hey, disciples, I’ve managed to offend everyone else, and they’ve voted with their feet.  If you’ve been looking for a chance to bow out gracefully, now would be the time.  But Simon Peter answered him, "Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God."  Though the circumstances are very different, this story has a lot in common with the story in the other Gospels, when Jesus first asked the disciples, “who do people say that I am”, and after hearing their responses, then asked them, “But who do you say that I am.”  In the other Gospels, Peter answers this second question, “You are the Messiah.”  In John’s Gospel, Peter says “You are the Holy One of Israel.”  In both cases, Peter, speaking for the disciples, expresses loyalty to Jesus.  In our reading from John, more than loyalty – Peter is saying there’s nowhere else to go, no one else to whom they could turn, literally no other options.

So the many voted with their feet to walk away from Jesus, and the few voted with their feet to stay.  Jesus’ words themselves tell us what makes the difference:  Jesus said, “No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me, and I will raise up that person on the last day…..no one can come to me unless it is granted by the Father.”  Later on in John’s account of the last supper, in Jesus’ farewell discourse to his disciples, he returns to this theme: “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit – fruit that will last.” 

How do people come to a place in which they feel compelled to follow Jesus?  Some people grow up in the faith, like a fish surrounded by water, and have really known no other way of being.  Others come to Jesus in a moment of crisis, when they’ve seemingly run out of options and cry unto the Lord, “Help!!”.  So there are different experiences of coming to follow Jesus.  And our two readings, from Joshua and from John’s Gospel, likewise give us two different perspectives, two different ways of looking at the moment of decision.  Joshua urges his followers, “Choose this day”.  Jesus tells his followers, in effect, “No one can choose to follow me unless the Father has first chosen that person.”  I don’t want to use these passages to get into a discussion about predestination vs free will – various parts of Scripture can be interpreted to support both doctrines, and I think both perspectives try to turn the mysterious workings of the Almighty into some sort of simple formula – “if A, then B”. But there’s nothing predictable about it – after all, as Jesus told Nicodemus, “the wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you don’t know where it comes from or where it goes – and so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”  After all, we’re not told any more about the crowds who walked away from Jesus.  Did their walking away from Jesus at that moment mean that they rejected his message forever, and that God had rejected them forever?  Or could Jesus’ words have planted seeds in their mind that bore fruit later.  We’re not told.  We just don’t know.  What we’re told is that at that moment, thousands walked away while twelve stayed.

God’s workings are indeed mysterious.  I’ve told some of you that I preached my very first sermon at the church where Isaac, our friend from Liberia, had been worshipping.  That Liberian church, a small independent congregation, was at that moment looking for a denomination in the United States with which to affiliate – and I was invited to one of their worship services to speak on behalf of the UCC.  I told the pastor and Isaac – who was the pastor’s right hand man – that I’d bring greetings on behalf of the UCC.  Isaac replied, “You will preach.”  And I said, “No, I’ll just bring greetings; I want to hear your pastor preach.” And Isaac said, “You will preach.”  And I said, “No, I’ve never preached in my life; please, I’ll just say a few words on behalf of the UCC and then I’ll sit down.”  And Isaac said, “You will preach.”  Well, we went back and forth a few more times, but finally Isaac wore me down and I said, “Oh, all right, I’ll try to cobble some hallucination of a sermon together, and I’ll come preach at your church.  Just please don’t expect much of anything; I’ve never done this before.”  As it happened, the Sunday of my visit was Trinity Sunday, and so I put together what I thought was a fairly coma-inducing sermon on the Trinity.  After my sermon, the pastor did an altar call.  And I thought to myself, “Oh no….”  For the most part, UCC churches, at least the ones I’d attended throughout my life, don’t do altar calls.  But, I figured, my sermon was so awful, nobody would come up – so I was safe.  So, as it happened, a mom with several children came up, with several elders of the church accompanying the family.  The pastor invited me to pray over them – as he said, “since they came forward under your preaching”, and I responded, “Oh, no, this is your church, we’re doing this together!”  And so we both laid hands on the family and prayed over them.

I don’t know what happened to that mother and children who came forward; I’ve lost track of their story.  What I do know, though, is that Isaac, the pastor’s right hand man, responded as well, and I’ve been able to follow his story – and in fact all of us at Emanuel are now a part of it.  Later in the same year after I preached at his church, Isaac accompanied me to Old First Reformed UCC, at 4th & Race Streets in Old City Philadelphia, where I was an active member at that time.   Worship at Old First is very different from worship at the Liberian church – but Isaac made a choice to stay at Old First.  When I became pastor here at Emanuel, Isaac started visiting from time to time.  And when his wife came over from Liberia, he chose to bring her to join the church here at Emanuel.  Over the past several years, he’s often talked to me about his dream of starting a congregation for the United Church of Christ back home in Liberia.  All of which is to say, God has a way of using the most unlikely moments as turning points, as moments of decision.  Like the farm hand in Cuba who was so impressed by the humility of a pastor who himself was also a farmer, that the farm hand responded to the call, first to become a believer, and then to become a pastor himself.  Like the mother with her children at the Liberian church, who in the midst of a sleep-inducing sermon not only stayed awake, but heard God calling her to new life.  Like Isaac, a strong Christian who in that same hour heard God calling him to serve the Lord in a different congregation, among people he didn’t yet know.  For both the farm hand and for Isaac – I hope for the mother as well - making a choice may have began at a particular moment, but that initial choice becomes the basis for all choices thereafter, until one can truly say, “To whom can I go? Who else will I turn to?  Who else can I trust?  For me, it’s Jesus or nothing.” 

These ongoing choices are the subject of our reading from Ephesians.  Paul writes, “Be strong in the Lord ….put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.  For our struggle is not against enemies of flesh and blood, but against the rulers and authorities and the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.  Therefore take up the whole armor of God….” and then Paul goes on to describe this armor – “Fasten the belt of truth about your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness.  As shoes for your feet put on whatever will prepare you to proclaim the Gospel of peace.  With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one.   Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.”  I struggle with this passage – the word “armor” makes me feel claustrophobic, defensive.  I don’t want to walk around in a clanking suit of armor.  But Paul’s words are a recognition that life can take us to some really scary places, that in our lives we will face threats to ourselves and our loved ones, to our communities, that are deeper and more pervasive than just this or that bad person, in which there is societal evil, systemic injustice, evil on a cosmic scale, that grinds us down in a way that threatens our faith, threatens to turn us against our neighbor, threatens to make us hopeless and bitter, threatens our very will to live. And we need to be prepared spiritually to stand in the face of all that. So Paul’s metaphor of armor, naming each piece, is really about choices, about the way we live.  Will we choose to live in a way that’s grounded in truth, that comes from a place of righteousness?  Are our feet prepared to take us where God wants us to share good news, in a world that’s full of bad news.  Are we equipped with faith, and salvation, and the word of God?   These are the day-by-day choices that come as a result of that initial choice of God to call us, and our choice to respond to God’s call.  After all, getting someone to come forward at an altar call isn’t really all that difficult – a pastor with strong oratorical skills can pile on emotional manipulation until, at least in that moment, a certain number of distressed, desperate souls will say “yes” to just about anything.  But what will happen the morning after?  Will the person ask him or herself, “what on earth came over me” and shrug it off as some sort of emotional meltdown, like someone would shrug off a bad hangover?  Or will their lives change in such a way that they live into the decision for Jesus that they’ve made?  Will their new-found faith go the distance?

About a week ago, I went to a retirement banquet for the Rev. Dr. Geneva Butz, who had served as Associate Conference Minister for the Pennsylvania Southeast Conference – who was my pastor for 20 years at Old First and my mentor even since then, who preached at our 150th anniversary, and whom many of you have met.  Geneva is legendary for her gift of encouraging and empowering people to step out on faith and try things they never thought they could do.  As part of the retirement banquet, there was a sort of mock exit interview.  The interviewer asked Geneva – what is your favorite word?  And Geneva said, “Yes”.  And then Geneva was asked what was her least favorite word. And Geneva responded, “No.”  And everyone at the banquet laughed, because we had all experienced that once Geneva had some vision in her head in which she saw a role for us, she wouldn’t take no for an answer.  Geneva wouldn’t argue….she’d just persist, just keep on asking, keep on reminding.  She just kept on until she heard, “Yes.”  But many at the banquet also gave testimony to all the doors that opened, all the adventures of faith experienced, as a result of saying “Yes” to Geneva – for example, a church member who said “Yes” to Geneva’s request some years back to host a visiting family from Germany is still in touch with this family, decades later, as they’ve visited back and forth many times. And God is like that.  Those whom God has chosen, God pursues – in the words of the poet Francis Thompson, like the hound of heaven, tracking us down no matter where we hid ourselves, never giving up, never letting go, until God gets us to say, “Yes”.

Do you hear God calling, feel God pursuing you, hear the footsteps of the hound of heaven?  Perhaps you hear Jesus calling you to turn for the first time and follow him?  Or perhaps you heard Jesus calling you to  renew your commitment to following him.  Perhaps there’s some bad habit or besetting sin or rebellion against God that has tripped us up over and over again, that God is calling us to leave behind.  Perhaps you hear Jesus calling you to step out on faith and attempt something bold, when our inclination is to stay within our comfort zone.  Perhaps the Lord has put some person’s name on your heart, to talk to that person and hear their pain, and to share good news.  I’m not going to ask you to come forward, or even to raise your hand – but I would urge you to listen to that voice within you, to that call, whatever it is, and quietly, within your heart, to let your faith in God overcome your fear of the unknown, to say “yes”, to say “yes” to God – as God, who first chose us, has said “yes” to us, as God has said “yes” to Emanuel Church, in the face of many difficulties, over the past 150 years.  May we open our hearts and minds to whatever call God has for us, and may we say yes.  May it be so with us. Amen.
 

Angel Food


 
(Scriptures:  I Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14 Ephesians 5:15-20 John 6:51-58)


 
Through August, our readings from John’s Gospel have expanded on the theme of Jesus as the Bread of Life.  The readings began on the last Sunday in July with the very concrete account of the feeding of the five thousand.  The crowds, knowing a good thing when they see it, seek to elevate Jesus as their king, their political leader.  The disciples went off across the sea to return to Capernaum – and Jesus walked on the water to join them – and found the same crowds seeking him on the other side of the sea.  In a way, it’s a funny but sad testimony as to how desperate the crowds were, how much they wanted someone to feed them and lead them.  But that will soon change.

Jesus instructs them to seek the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give them.  The crowds ask if Jesus will give them manna, as the Israelites had received in the wilderness.  Jesus responds that the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world, and the crowds implore Jesus to give them that bread always.  At this point, the crowds are still with him, more or less.

But now Jesus explicitly identifies himself with the image of bread:  “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”   The crowds begin to grumble – “hey, isn’t this Jesus, the son of Joseph.  We know his parents.  Where’s he get off telling us he came down from heaven?”  Jesus does not back off, but instead restates what he said even more strongly:  “I am the living bread that came down from heaven.   However eats of this bread will live forever, and the bread I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”  The crowds grumble still more loudly – how’s he gonna give us his flesh to eat - perhaps he’ll cut off a hunk of his arm and toss it to us?”  And Jesus expresses the same thing still more explicitly:  “Very truly I tell you, unless you eat of the flesh of the son of Man” – the Greek word translated as “eat” means to gobble down food, like an animal – nothing the least bit dainty about it – “unless you eat of the flesh of the son of Man and drink his blood, you will have no life within you.”  Now the crowds think Jesus has taken leave of his senses, especially since eaten flesh with the blood was explicitly forbidden even in the time of Noah.

What’s going on here?  Some commentators note that in John’s Gospel, the center of Jesus’ last meal with his disciples is not the breaking of bread and drinking of wine – there’s no language of that type in John’s account of Jesus’ last meal with the disciples – but the washing of the disciples’ feet.  So, perhaps, where the other Gospels put the institution of the Eucharist near the end of Jesus’ ministry, John uses Eucharistic language very early on in Jesus’ ministry.  Certainly it’s hard to read this passage and not think of holy communion. 

Other commentators connect the crowds’ reaction to Jesus’ words to the behavior of the crowds who followed Moses in the wilderness.  Remember that in the time of the Exodus, the crowds grumbled that they were hungry.  Moses prayed to God, and God sent down manna – and the crowds who followed Jesus remembered this story very well.  But later on, even though God was feeding them day by day with manna in the wilderness, the crowds still grumbled – “oh, it’s the same thing, day after day….manna morning noon and night, we’re sick of this manna.”  And when the crowds who followed Jesus spoke of manna and Jesus compared himself to manna – the crowds who followed Jesus grumbled.  So there’s a kind of ironic humor in this story from John’s Gospel – the crowds ask Jesus to re-enact the miracle of the manna, and when Jesus offers himself as manna, the crowds unknowingly re-enact the grumbling that took place against the manna in the wilderness.  You can almost picture John the Evangelist, the writer of this gospel, standing off to the side shaking his head saying, “Some things never change.”

Perhaps this is one of those stories that we shouldn’t analyze to death, but rather just taken in, as we would take in bread and wine.  Clearly, Jesus is offering himself – his life, his ministry, his death, all of himself, everything he has to offer - to sustain those who trust in him.  Jesus offers to feed us, to meet our needs, through the gift of himself.  The image is not that of some wealthy bazillionaire tossing some tiny fraction of his excessive and possibly ill-gotten income, tossing some pocket change, to set up a soup kitchen.  Jesus’ image is much more personal – you might think of a mother offering her milk to feed her child.  The offering of himself of which Jesus speaks is a very personal, even intimate self-giving – it doesn’t get much more personal than to offer your own flesh and blood to sustain someone else.  I included in the bulletin the words, with translation, of St Thomas Aquinas’ poem “Panis Angelicus”.  As I read it, one line made me stop in my tracks, makes me want to gasp: “The Lord becomes our food: poor, a servant, and humble.”   Roll that around in your mind a bit….”The Lord....becomes... our food.”  And these words lead me back to the words of the first chapter of John’s Gospel, what has been called the Prologue:  “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  He was in the beginning with God.  All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people…..and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.”  In today’s Scripture reading, John returns to this image of the Word became flesh, and expands on it – the Word not only became flesh and dwelt among us, but offered that flesh as living bread to feed his people.  Grace and truth indeed!

When we meditate on the complete self-giving of Jesus, really, all there is to do is to give thanks.  To give thanks for a God who even bothers to take us seriously, let alone offer Godself for us.  To give thanks for a God who feeds us, even when we grumble, who made an immeasurable sacrifice to give us eternal life, not just in some far off world to come, but in our lives here, today.

And, perhaps, one other response would be to tell our hungry neighbors where they can be fed.  D.  T. Niles described evangelism simply as “one beggar telling another where to find bread.”  After all God has done and is doing for us, it would be the height of selfishness to simply take it all in without sharing with others.  May we at Emanuel Church always feed on this living bread, never seeking any other source of sustenance, and may we share this living bread with our neighbors who are hungry.  Amen.
 

Sunday, August 12, 2012

The Calling to Which We Are Called


(Scriptures:  2 Samuel 18:5-15   Ephesians 4:25-5:2       John 6:35-51)

“I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, 2with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, 3making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”
Ephesians 4:1-3

We’re now in mid-August, and for students, the summer break is waning fast.  Lots of merchants are offering back to school sales.  Some churches do a special service for students – which I think I’d like to try here – called the “blessing of the backpacks”.  Of course, many who graduated high school in the spring are going to college, and will be living away from home.  The students look forward to greater independence, but parents worry – will my son or daughter be ok?  Will they know enough to stay out of trouble, to avoid bad influences?  Many parents are giving their son or daughter a talk to remind them: “Remember what we’ve taught you.  Remember who you are.”

“Remember who you are.” Today’s reading from Ephesians can be summed up in those four words – “Remember who you are.”  Over the past several weeks, the Epistle readings have been from Paul’s letter to the church at Ephesus.  A mixed congregation of Jews and gentiles, Paul wrote them urging unity.  He wrote to praise the congregation for their faithfulness, reminded them of all God has done for them through Jesus Christ, reminded them that, through Christ, the dividing wall between Jew and Gentile had been torn down – and it was high time for the folks at Ephesus to start living that way.  Last week’s reading began with the words, “I therefore, a prisoner of the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called.”  In today’s Gospel reading, Paul goes into more detail about what it means to lead such a life, what it means to “remember who you are.”

Paul gets down to cases:  “Let us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another.  Be angry, but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger and do not make room for the devil. Thieves must give up stealing; let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy.  Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up.  Do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption.  Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice.  Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another…..”  These words sound almost impossible, but then Paul reminds us why forgiveness is so important – “forgiving one another as God in Christ has forgiven you.”

"Remember who you are."  Paul’s words give us picture of what it is to live a life worthy of the calling to which we have been called.  A whole sermon series could be preached on each of these injunctions – speak the truth to one another, do not let the sun go down on your anger, labor and work honestly with your own hands, let no evil talk come out of your mouth, and so on – but for today I’ll spare you the sermon series – and you’re welcome.  Instead, I’d like to focus on the importance of remembering who we are, of living lives worthy of our call as Christians, in a world which preaches the exact opposite – and in God’s name.

“Be angry, but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger and do not make room for the devil”  We live in a society which continually seems to grow more divided, more angry, Talk radio and TV commentators stir up resentment, distrust, and hatred, and get paid big bucks to do it.  They laugh at their audience behind their back, all the way to the bank.  Our country’s anger has given the devil lots of space, and the devil has stirred up lots of trouble.  The shooting in Aurora CO, followed by the shooting in a Sikh Temple in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, didn’t happen in a vacuum – when radio, TV and entirely too many TV and radio preachers are filling the air with hate and mistrust 24/7, it’s inevitable that some number of mentally unstable individuals will lose their precarious grip on reality, and lash out in violence.   Amid the constant drumbeat of resentment, resentment, resentment – it’s essential that we remember that we remember the calling to which we’re called as Christians, the calling to be peacemakers and to love our enemies. It’s essential that we remember who we are.

You don’t have to drive to Colorado or hang out at Sikh houses of worship to see this sort of thing play out.  Plenty of trouble stirring right here in Bridesburg.  Exhibit A, the kerfuffle over the food cupboard sponsored by the Bridesburg Council of Churches.  I know that Bridesburg is a proud neighborhood, a “family first neighborhood” as the banners say, a neighborhood with a strong effort of standing on its own two feet.  The cherished images we have of Bridesburg don’t include visions of hundreds of people waiting in food lines – having food lines winding up and down Kirkbride Street seems like something out of some old newspaper clipping about the Great Depression.  It’s a shock to realize that people here, in Bridesburg, in our neighborhood, right now, are hurting.   There are lots of factors contributing to those food lines.  Some are personal - doubtless in many cases there are stories to be told of marriages and families falling apart under the strain of unemployment, of people numbing themselves with drink or drugs to make the pain go away.  And there are national and international forces at work - the diminished power of organized labor, economic policies that reward corporations for sending jobs overseas, predatory lenders foreclosing on mortgages and throwing people out on the street, 30 years of political efforts to destroy the social safety net, on and on.  But Wall Street bankers and multinational corporations and political leaders at all levels of government seem abstract, faceless, too remote from us even to hear our anger, let alone to be threatened by it.  It’s much easier to blame the victims, to take out our frustration on the folks in the food lines, blaming them for their own problems.  Far easier to call the folks in the food line a bunch of drunks and junkies and scam artists, accusing them of driving long distances to invade our neighborhood, hog our parking spaces, trash our sidewalks, peer in our windows, and drive home with our charitable donations. 

So when our neighbors in Bridesburg start talking like this – and they do, and they will - we need to remember who we are – followers of Jesus Christ, who could have been born into a prominent Roman or Jewish family, but instead was born into a poor family, who could have courted favor with the rich, but instead chose poor and working class persons as his disciples, whose mission it was to preach good news to the poor and liberation to the captive, who told the rich young ruler that before he could follow Jesus he would have to sell all he had and give it to the poor, who, in the words of the Magnificat, “filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty.”   Yes, many of the folks who come to the cupboard are dysfunctional, drunk, obnoxious.  Yes, it’s inconvenient having them all standing on Kirkbride Street, some of them three sails to the wind by 10 in the morning, with their trash and their loud talk and their old rattletrap cars hogging up all the parking.  But life is inconvenient for them as well.  It’s inconvenient for them to be in poor, inconvenient for them to be unemployed, or perhaps working multiple dead-end jobs that don’t pay a living wage, inconvenient for them to be alcoholic or addicted, inconvenient for them to have children they can’t support, inconvenient for them to have to stand in line for hours and depend on the kindness of strangers, however good natured or well intentioned. The poor in those lines at the cupboard are the poor for whom Christ died.  The poor in those lines at the cupboard are those of whom Christ spoke when he told those at his right hand, whatsoever you have done unto the least of these my brothers and sisters, you’ve done it unto me.  When Jesus fed the five thousand, he didn’t tell the disciples to administer breathalyzer tests or drug screenings or asking the folks to show photo IDs or copies of utility bills to prove they were local and lived in the right zip code.  Christ just fed them – just as God causes rain to fall on the good and the bad, and sends blessing on the just and unjust.  If we are to call ourselves followers of Christ, we can do no less.

Jesus Christ said that the second great commandment, after love of God, was love of neighbor.   The love of which Jesus spoke didn’t necessarily depend on liking our neighbor.  Rather, the love of which Jesus spoke was solidarity, standing by one’s neighbor whether you like your neighbor or not.  Like members of a labor union realizing that an attack on one member is a threat to all. 

The powers and principalities, those who practice spiritual wickedness in high places, specialize in the game of divide and conquer.  They set native-born against immigrant, white against black against Hispanic against Asian, set Christian against Jew against Muslim, set men against women, set straight against gay, set employed against unemployed.  They specialize in pointing out the person here and there who cuts corners to get some extra food stamps or other public assistance – and confabulate all manner of stories about welfare queens.  While they’re pointing over there – “Look at that welfare cheat” - all the while they’re picking our back pockets by passing laws that favor the rich and make life difficult for the rest of us.

Bridesburg has a strong ethic of “sticking together”.  And this is what Jesus calls us to do – stick together – only we need to widen the circle, be willing to stick together with a wider range of people, be willing to practice solidarity with all our neighbors, not just a few.  We need to stick together, to practice solidarity – with the poor when they’re being abused, with the unpopular when they’re being shunned.  We might remember that most of us are ourselves just a few paychecks or pension checks away from going hungry.  We reap what we sow – and the solidarity we practice may be the solidarity that saves us when the chips are down.

“I therefore beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, 2with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, 3making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”    May we at Emanuel Church always lead lives worthy of the calling to which Christ has called us.  May we always remember who we are – and may we always remember whose we are.  Amen.


 


Wonder Bread


(Scriptures:  2 Samuel 11:26 – 12:13a, Ephesians 4:1-16,  John 6:24-35)

What a joy it is to be back with you at Emanuel Church.  I had an amazing time in Cuba – and I’m still mulling over my experiences there in my mind - but, as the saying goes, there’s no place like home.  Rev. Doug, who filled in for me over the past two Sundays, spoke highly of his time with you.  And his words made me even more eager to return.

Last week, Doug preached about the feeding of the five thousand – one of the miracles of Jesus that is recorded in all four Gospels, meaning that the feeding of the five thousand was, for the early church, key to understanding who Jesus is.

And that very question – who is Jesus – is at the center of today’s Gospel reading.  After the crowds were fed and twelve baskets of leftover scraps gathered up, Jesus’ disciples journeyed across the sea back to Capernaum, and in the midst of a gathering storm, Jesus came walking to them on the water.  They landed in Capernaum, and found the same crowds they had just gotten done feeding on the other side of the sea.

And then begins a conversation between Jesus and the crowds, in which the crowds try to get their minds around who Jesus is.  This conversation, which we will hear over the next several Sundays, becomes stranger and stranger as it continues, until at last the crowds become frustrated and stomp off in disgust.  But it begins at a very basic level – the crowds ask Jesus when he had arrived at Capernaum, and Jesus observes that the crowds are looking for him, not because of his signs, but because they had eaten their fill of the loaves – these folk were not well off and were likely used to going hungry, so having a big meal and a full stomach would be a memorable experience – an experience they were eager to repeat.

But Jesus calls on them to go deeper, to trust Jesus, not only to meet their need for bread, but to meet them at their point of deepest need.  “Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you.”  And they ask how they are supposed to work for this eternal bread, “What must we do to perform the works of God.”  Jesus tells them, “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.”  The people then ask for proof, harking back to their early wilderness tradition: “What sign are you going to give us so that we may see it and believe you?  What work are you performing?  Our ancesters ate the manna in the wilderness, as it is written, “He gave them bread from heaven to eat.”   The people expect that the Messiah will be able to give manna, as it was when Moses led the children of Israel in the wilderness.  Jesus tells them that God, not Moses, gave them the bread from heaven, and God will give them the true bread from heaven.  And the crowds are eager: “Sir, give us this bread always.”  Our reading ends with Jesus’ response:  “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”

So Jesus is more or less explicitly comparing himself to the manna with which God fed the children of Israel in the wilderness.  In a place with little food or water, the manna is what stood between the children of Israel and death by starvation.  The manna may not have always been what they wanted – and, indeed, after a while they complained about the blandness and monotony of the manna – but it was what they needed.  The presence of the manna did not take them out of the wilderness – but it made the wilderness bearable, and gave God’s people strength for the journey. 

Psychologist Abraham Maslow spoke of humans as having a hierarchy of needs, which is often represented as a pyramid.  At the base of the pyramid are basic survival needs for food and water.  Just above these basic survival needs are the need for physical and emotional safety.  Higher on the pyramid is the emotional need for love and belonging.  At the top of the pyramid are needs for self-esteem and the desire to reach one’s potential, which Maslow called self-actualization.  Maslow theorized that people whose basic survival and safety needs went lacking, would not feel motivated to seek love, self-esteem, and so forth.  So in a sense, Jesus and the crowds were working from different locations on the pyramid.  The crowds were stuck at the base of the pyramid, in survival mode, focused on their own nutrition and safety – Jesus had fed them, and the crowds wanted Jesus to continue to feed them.  Jesus invited the crowds to rely on Jesus, not just for bread, but for safety, belonging, and all the rest.  The crowds wanted to fill their stomachs; Jesus offered to feed them emotionally, spiritually, in all facets of life.  Jesus spoke of himself as bread – and the crowds were left to wonder what on earth he meant.  He offered himself as a sort of wonder bread, to fill and fulfill them at their many points of need.

Perhaps the image of manna gives us a deeper sense of what Jesus means in asking people to believe in him.  Remember that the manna was provided day by day – they couldn’t store it up for the future, except that they could gather enough on Friday to carry them through the Sabbath.  If they tried to hoard it, it went bad.  So the children of Israel had to trust day by day that God would provide for them.  And perhaps this is the kind of faith we are to have in Jesus – not just reciting the words of a creed, but relying on Jesus day by day to sustain us through whatever life throws at us.

For some in America, it’s been a long time since we’ve experienced physical hunger, or perhaps we’ve never really experienced it.  We know what it is for our stomachs to growl while we’re waiting for dinner, but many have little experience of what it is to go without dinner, and breakfast the next day too, to get by on one meal a day, if that.  But many in America do know – as evidenced by the lines at the food cupboard.  For many children, the school lunch is the only meal they can rely on all day.  For many, especially in urban areas such as our own, while food may be available at low prices, it’s often processed, deep-fried, loaded with corn syrup, carbs, grease, and preservatives – sufficient for filling stomachs, but not good for maintaining health.  In many urban neighborhoods, healthy fruits and vegetables aren’t for sale, or are unaffordable even if they are for sale.  For this reason, many inner city areas have been described as “food deserts.”  And in many countries, many children come into this world with a sentence of “death by starvation” hanging over their heads.  It has been said that, “the question of bread for myself is a material question, but the question of bread for my neighbor is a spiritual question.”  And many, in Bridesburg and around the world, are waiting to see how our churches will answer.

The crowds who followed Jesus were hungry, in many different ways.  Jesus satisfied their hunger for food, and when he had their attention, offered them the gift of himself.  And that’s a good model for the church to follow.  Starving people can’t eat tracts.  People come to the church with all sorts of needs – for food, for safety, for community, for hope.  Jesus preached the whole Gospel to the whole person – good news for body and soul.  And we in the church are called to do the same.

In Cuba, I saw churches preaching the whole Gospel to the whole person.  Cuba is a country lacking many things – and our country’s embargo on trade with Cuba has only made their situation more precarious – but the people are very resilient and creative.  We were visiting churches affiliated with the Fraternity of Baptists in Cuba, among the most progressive protestant groups in Cuba.   And these churches are growing – this group that had started with three churches in the late 1980’s has now, in a little more than 20 years, grown to over 40 congregations, with many of them having been founded in the last 5 or so years.  Often a church will start a small Bible study, and when the Bible study has enough members, it will leave the main congregation to set out and start a new congregation.  And so many of the newer churches are small, with attendance of 20 or 30 or so on a Sunday – indeed, we visited a house church with attendance about the same as Emanuel.  While a few of the older congregations have large buildings, many of the newer churches are meeting in houses; we visited one church that met in a converted garage.  But they’re all feeding their neighbors, physically and spiritually – many have gardens and offer the produce to their neighbors as well as their own members.  One particularly exciting recent development is that some churches have put in water filtration systems – healthy water isn’t always easy to come by in Cuba.  They have outdoor taps so that their neighbors can get clean water, free of charge.  Neighbors line up at these churches with their bottles – many of which have been reused over and over, as plastic bottles are also not always easy to come by - follow the instructions posted on the wall on how to disinfect their bottles with chlorine – also offered at the churches – and then fill their bottles.  The sign on the tap makes an explicit connection between Jesus as living water and the church’s offering of healthy water to their neighbors.

In his teaching and in his actions, most of all in his death and resurrection, Jesus offered the gift of himself.  In a few minutes, we will gather at the table to share bread and wine and to remember Jesus’ self-offering, to show forth Jesus’ death until he comes again.  May we experience Jesus as the bread of life, and when we leave, may we carry Jesus, the bread of life, to our neighbors who are hungry.  Amen.


Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Breaking Down Walls - A Sermon in Cuba

[Note: Pastor Dave was in Cuba from July 21-28, 2012, as part of a delegation to the Fraternity of Baptists in Cuba from the Pennsylvania Southeast Conference, United Church of Christ.  The following sermon was preached in Cuba.]

Ephesians 2:13-22



13But now in Christ Jesus [those] who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. 14For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us. 15He has abolished the law with its commandments and ordinances, so that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace, 16and might reconcile both groups to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility through it. 17So he came and proclaimed peace to [those] who were far off and peace to those who were near; 18for through him both of us have access in one Spirit to the Father. 19So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, 20built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. 21In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; 22in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling-place for God.

Breaking Down Walls

What a great pleasure it is to be back in Cuba, and to be with the sisters and brothers of the Fraternity of Baptists in Cuba. My first trip here was in 2008. I remember walking around the park outside the Capitolio...and being surprised to see a sculpture of the face of Abraham Lincoln. I remember asking our guide what significance this statue of Abraham Lincoln would have had in Cuba, and our guide said something like, “Why not? He was a good guy!” Lincoln was committed to keeping the United States together during a time of many divisions. In the year 1858, just a few years before the outbreak of the Civil War in the United States, Lincoln addressed the social division in the United States over the institution of slavery using the words of Jesus, as recorded in Matthew’s Gospel, “A house divided against itself cannot stand.”

Our reading from Ephesians deals with houses – or congregations or countries – that are divided, needing reconciliation. St Paul in his letter to the Ephesians praised our Savior who gathers. In Ephesians, Paul was writing to predominantly Gentile, non-Jewish congregations, which apparently felt some alienation from Jewish converts to the way of Jesus. Paul wrote to remind them that both Jewish and non-Jewish followers of Christ were one family, that through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, the walls dividing Jew and non-Jew were broken down, that though, like all families, they may squabble from time to time, they were nonetheless all one family,

As I was preparing to join with the group of visitors from the Pennsylvania Southeast Conference of the United Church of Christ to the Fraternity of Baptists in Cuba, this passages of Scripture, which was read in many of our churches in the United States on Sunday, July 22, seem amazingly appropriate, indeed, almost divinely ordained, for this visit. Some political leaders, particularly in the United States, are really good at building walls, and not so good at breaking them down. Political calculations make it difficult for Cubans to visit the United States. Political calculations make it difficult for citizens of the United States to visit Cuba. “El bloqueo” has imposed tremendous suffering on Cuba. Unfortunately, at the present moment, that’s what the political process has to offer.

From other political leaders in the United States and elsewhere, we hear uplifting messages about globalization – and, indeed, wouldn’t it be wonderful to rid ourselves of the nationalistic barriers that divide us, to think of ourselves as one human race. What a wonderful world that would be. But the global capitalism preached by our political leaders, whose political campaigns are funded by huge corporations, isn’t about global reunification, but, rather, about global exploitation, draining resources from around the globe while being beyond the scope of any one nation’s laws, and therefore accountable to nobody. In this model human beings all around the globe are sheep to be fleeced, or lambs led to slaughter.

But in Christ, it is a different story. Christ has broken down the dividing wall, the hostility cultivated by political leaders. Christ proclaims peace to those who are far off and peace to those who are near – and given the current political divisions, the United States and Cuba are separated by a geographical distance of just 90 miles and by a political gulf so enormous it’s nearly impossible to measure, much less cross. But where political leaders proclaim locked doors and economic leaders find new ways to exploit the needy, God opens a door to a different path, a different way forward. Even our respective governments recognize the unique value of church dialogue. Because we – we in Cuba and we in the United States – are church, under the care of the church we can visit one another in a way that those outside the church cannot. It is only because of Christ that we, Cubans and Americans, can be in this one room together. Where political leaders proclaim fear and suspicion, the Gospel proclaims reconciliation and reunion. We are in different geographical locations, different social settings, different political configurations – but in Christ we are one. The Fraternity of Baptists in Cuba is committed to breaking down the walls of race, gender, class, sexual orientation – and in the United Church of Christ, we share these commitments. And these commitments to breaking down walls have been costly commitments, for the Fraternity of Baptists in Cuba and for the United Church of Christ. So in Christ we are united; there is no separation between the Fraternity of Baptists in Cuba and the United Church of Christ. Here, in this place, we can see Paul’s words come to life, see Paul’s words put into action. This meeting, our being together in this place, what we experience *today*, is a strong witness to the power of Jesus Christ to gather those who otherwise would be scattered.

Your congregation shows us the way forward. With your ecological gardens and sustainable agriculture, you’re showing that “another world is possible,” proclaiming the countercultural message of the reign of God, which grows like the seed in your gardens, feeding the hungry and bringing hope to the hopeless; proclaiming the gospel of Christ which is living water, like the lifegiving water offered free of charge by many of the Fraternity of Baptists in Cuba congregations. And so Jesus Christ, who has broken down the walls between us, has made a way for us to be with you and to learn from you.

[At this time, the floor was opened for others to share testimonies of how Christ has broken down barriers for them. This was followed by a closing prayer.] Amen.

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Pastor Dave's Report on Cuba Trip

(Note: I apologize for not having updated the blog in several weeks - I've caught up by publishing sermons from June through July 15.  Pastor Dave was part of a delegation from the Pennsylvania Southeast Conference, United Church of Christ, to Cuba, departing July 21, 2012 and returning July 28, 2012.  Below is a report Pastor Dave made to the congregation.)

Dear Members and Friends of Emanuel- Hope you've been well - I've been catching up on emails. I got back from Cuba on Saturday, arriving back in Conshohocken around 11:30 pm last night. The trip was wonderful. Thanks for your prayers for my health. I'm writing with a brief initial report.


There were eight of us in the group. I had no health problems at all - and while this was my third trip to Cuba, this is the first time I've gotten through the trip without getting sick. Two of the group had mild illness due to the extreme heat, but that was the extent of health problems.

The churches we visited belonged to the Fraternity of Baptists in Cuba (FIBAC), a progressive Baptist denomination whose theology shares much in common with the UCC. One of FIBAC's distinctives is that they have many, many female pastors, which is still fairly unusual (even controversial) in Cuba. We saw ten or so churches, with a lot of amazing ministries - in addition to very lively preaching, worship, and music, there were many gardens (including some gardens with medicinal herbs) and agricultural projects to benefit the church and surrounding neighborhoods, a Christian center which ministered through art and music, a seminary which serves around 500 students in all (very few of whom live on campus full time, but the seminary offers "intensive" courses that last for 2-3 weeks)...on and on. Many of the churches are quite small - several were house churches roughly the same size as Emanuel, and even the larger churches were less than 100 people, but they did amazing ministry with small numbers and limited resources. The churches are also very adept at leadership development and at planting new congregations; many of FIBAC's congregations have emerged within the past 10 years or so. We saw one church that had extensive fields that produced a great deal of food for the church, for the Cuban government, and for the neighborhood. This church, in the far west of the island, has also planted a number of new church starts in its area, which is quite rural and doesn't have as many churches as other parts of Cuba. We also learned that even for the Cubans, finding uncontaminated water can be difficult; some of the churches have water filtration systems and have outdoor water taps with filtered water that is offered free of charge to the neighborhood. We saw neighbors line up with their bottles, following a diagram near the tap to first sterilize their bottles with chlorine (also offered by the churches) and then fill up their bottles.

There were three pastors in our group - the Rev. Dr. Geneva Butz from the Conference, who preached for Emanuel's 150th, the Rev. Darryl Cruz, pastor of St. John's UCC in Reading, PA, and me, and each of us preached at one church each. We also had several translators - a member of one of the Cuban churches who teaches English as a second language, a missionary from the American Baptist church who accompanied us, and Rev. Cruz......and a few times, when none of these were nearby, I was able to help with some limited translation assistance from the little bit of Spanish I know. On Wednesday we took a needed break, spending the morning and early afternoon at Varadaro Beach, said to be the most beautiful beach in the world.....and it really was just like stepping into a picture postcard, it was so, so beautiful. And periodically through the trip we stopped at various cultural venues, including Havana's art museum, which is quite impressive.

For our UCC churches, it was mostly a time to observe and reconnect. There had been trips from the Pennsylvania Southeast conference (UCC) in 2007, 2008, and 2009, but it had been a few years since the Pennsylvania Southeast Conference (UCC) had sent a group, and had we not gone this year, the connection could easily have gone by the wayside, given the personnel changes at the Conference. Our group brought supplies (donated from our UCC churches, including some donations I made - so Emanuel was represented!) to give to the churches - especially medical supplies and drugs, which are very scarce in Cuba. Our group also brought various eyeglasses (some used prescription eyeglasses as well as some over-the-counter drugstore reading glasses), a few thermometers, two big boxes of non-latex medical gloves, several bottles of over-the-counter aspirin and tylenol and such, disposable razors (we were told the pastors routinely made "disposable" razors last for months due to the shortages), some coloring books and such for children.....except for the specialized medical donations, we broke our donations up into ten gift bags and left a bag with each church we visited. The specialized items, we left with the executive director of their denomination and asked him to direct them as most needed. Some of us (including me) also donated some of our clothing at the end of the trip......which were very sweaty, but the Cubans were most willing to wash them as the price of wearing them; that's how much need there is for basics like clothing.

Our grouphad some money left over at the end of the trip, almost $800 in American currency. One of the churches (the one on the far western side of the island with the extensive fields of vegetable gardens) was trying to get money for their music ministry to create a "master recording" for their music, to sell to finance their evangelism and vegetable raising ministries. We heard their music ministry at an evening church service where Geneva preached, and were very impressed with their music. We donated much of our remaining funds toward this ministry so they could make a master recording - with the provision that we get a copy of the master recording so we can also produce CD's to raise money to bring a group of youth to Cuba.

As I said, Emanuel Church was present, through donations and through my being there. At each church I introduced myself: "Me llamo Dave. Soy el pastor de la Iglesia Emanuel in Philadelphia. Estamos un poco iglesia con treinta miembres, y semana a semana esta quince presente, mas o menos." (There may be a grammatical glitch or two in that introduction, but it's the best I could do with my limited Spanish vocabulary.) I told several churches about our anniversary, and our role in founding Bethany Children's Home. Of the photos I took on July 15, I had copies made and gave them to the churches.

I'll be able to say more next Sunday, if desired. Mostly, at this point, I just wanted to let you know I got back from Cuba in one piece, and to share a little from my experiences there.

See you next Sunday -

Blessings - Pastor Dave