|
|
|
Calendars
|
Some Samples of past SermonsOne Flesh, Divorce and Communion
Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43 Romans 8:12-25 A Sermon Preached on Sunday July 17, 2005 Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time In a recent sermon, my friend of many years, the reverend M. Dudley Rose, senior minister of the McDonough Presbyterian Church in McDonough, Georgia, shares this story. "The fellow pumping gas next to my car at a McDonough station finished before I did. As he headed inside to pay, he smiled, said "hello" and handed me a business card that read,
Dudley continues, "I had paid for my gasoline by credit card at the pump, but I followed him inside. In a polite, non-confrontational way, I said, "Tell me, please, why you handed me this card." With equal politeness he responded, "Because you'll rot in hell unless you accept Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior." I was in one of my "moods," so I said, "But I'm a practicing Jew. I love God." We were walking back to our cars now. The man said, "That won't do. Jesus said, "No man comes to the father except by me." "But what if Jesus meant by that…" He interrupted me, "I'm late for an appointment. Visit my website. It's on the card. It will explain everything to you." Last week at the Sol Center of University Presbyterian Church I served on a panel which reviewed and discussed the relevance of the church Confessions which make up the Book of Confessions of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). The Confessions are faith statements written over the years to address a particular situation or to be used to teach the faith. The earliest confessions we have are the Apostle's Creed and the Nicene Creed, the later written in A.D. 325. The latest confession to be adopted by our church is The Brief Statement of Faith written as a consequence of the union between the Presbyterian Church US and the United Presbyterian Church in the United States of America. The presenter for the three evening event was Dr. Jack Stotts, former President of Austin Seminary. Jack was also President of McCormick Theological Seminary in Chicago when I was a student there. At one point during the discussion Jack stated that when it came to scripture there were two kinds of believers, the ones who interpret the scriptures and the ones who don't realize they are doing so. The point is that we are all interpreters of scripture, not a one of us can speak absolutely for God. But we do live in a time when many believe they can do just that, speak absolutely for God, like the man which Dudley encountered at the gas station. Lamar Williamson Jr., professor Emeritus of Biblical studies at Union Theological Seminary in Richmond, Virginia states in his latest commentary on the Gospel of John, referring to John 14:6, "At no point does Jesus invite his disciples to judge. No interpreter is authorized to preach the exclusive claims of Jesus in such a way as to judge the faith of anyone else. That is the exclusive prerogative of the Father and the Son and, on the last day, of the Word that Jesus has spoken. I am called to present that Word with conviction and urgency but also with humility. I do not know, nor do I need to know, how God deals now, or will deal with people of other faiths." (Preaching the Gospel of John: Proclaiming the Living Word,) I agree with Dr. Williamson. But of course, you know that already. You have heard me preach on this topic before. So you may be wondering, "Why is he doing so again and why now?" At the panel discussion on the Church Confessions an interesting question was raised for comment by the panelists, "What topic do you think will be addressed by the next church confession?" Dr. Stotts and others responded that they believed the topic addressed by the next church confession will be the relationship of Christianity and the other world religions. (By the way I think the topic that needs to be addressed is our great fear. We seem to be in fear of everything these days. I think fear permeates our lives and our decision making in the United States, at the most local and personal level as well as on the national and international level. I believe in being prudent but I also believe in the perfect love of God and that God's love casts out fear. What does our fear say about our faith in God?). But I was in the minority and if Jack Stotts and the other panelists are right then we better start thinking seriously and consider prayerfully what we believe to be true, and more precisely, how and why we interpret the scriptures in such a way to lead us to our convictions. In addition, someone raised concern that the faith of our children, by that I mean the reformed understanding and tradition in which we are rooted as Presbyterians, is being challenged, sometimes aggressively, by their peers at school, in the malls and on the playing fields of our country. So, let's take a look at the whole topic of being saved. Is it really as clear cut and simple as the man at the gas pump in McDonough Georgia would have us believe? Is being saved an either or proposition and are we the ones to define the terms for such a proposition and speak ultimately for God? First of all, in the Old Testament scriptures God is understood, believed even, to be the one who saves by delivering Israel out of the exile and out of bondage and as such he is the savior of the Hebrew people, the Israelites, and they are saved by God. God saves his people by delivering his people. That seems to be Luke's understanding as well when he refers to Jesus as savior in the New Testament, "To you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord." (Luke 2:11). (I'll give biblical references since those who want to speak for God tend to use that as a way of convincing and converting others. Presbyterians can quote the bible too although we would rather keep things in context.) Matthew puts it this way, the angel or messenger of the Lord speaking Joseph states, "She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins." (Matthew 1:21).The name ‘Jesus' itself is from the Hebrew word for ‘save.' The gospel writer John also refers to Jesus as savior or the one who saves the whole world but this testimony is made by, of all people Samaritans, thought to be outside the covenant by the Jews, in other words the non-saved of the day. (John 4:42). The apostle Paul also speaks of salvation in his letters. As a Jew he understood salvation to mean that God rescues his people and establishes his kingdom with them through the covenant. But for Paul the death and resurrection of Jesus are also crucial to an understanding of salvation because it is through them that he believes we are reconciled to God in the present and saved from the perils of the future. (Romans 13:11-14 and 1 Thessalonians 1:9-10). Jesus was a Jew, and practiced the Jewish religion. He read the Hebrew Scriptures, the only scriptures available at the time. We know, of course, that when Jesus walked the earth there was no "New Testament." It is clear to me that Jesus stood squarely in the Jewish understanding that salvation comes from God. God is first and foremost and above all. When he is asked which commandment in the law is the greatest he responds, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment." (Matthew 22:36-38). He followed that statement with these words, "And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets." (Matt. 22:39-40). Jesus' ministry and teaching focused on the other. He started the whole journey by reading from the scroll in the synagogue proclaiming that he had come to heal and to set free. "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 oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." (Luke 4:18-19). That's who he is and what he is about. When it comes to passing judgment on someone I don't think he could have been any clearer. He states, "That's not for you to decide, period." "Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. For with the judgment you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get." (Matt. 7:1-2). To me that includes passing judgment on who is saved or not. In today's scripture readings Jesus in his explanation of the parable again makes it clear that it will be the Son of Man that makes that determination and Paul too states that it is the Grace of God that saves us. I believe that we were saved some two thousand plus years ago when Jesus was crucified dead and was buried and on the third day rose again. The question for me is not so much, "Are you saved?" as the man at the gas station in McDonough, Georgia would have us believe, but rather, "Now that you are saved, what are you going to do about it!" I think I'll stick to what I know to be true and I will busy myself with presenting the Word of God with conviction and urgency and also with humility and I'll leave the rest to God. What about you?
Matthew 14:13-21 Romans 8:26-39 A Sermon Preached on Sunday July 31, 2005 Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time "What then shall we say to this? If God is for us, who is against us… For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:31, 38-39). With these words the apostle Paul makes a remarkably powerful affirmation about God and about those who are called to believe in God. These familiar words from Paul's letter to the Romans are often quoted at funerals and memorial services, and rightly so. They remind us of the undeniable connection we have with God through Christ and the undeniable connection God has promised to have with us. But we are mistaken if we interpret Paul's words as though they only apply to the life we will experience after this earthly existence is over. Paul's words do not only speak to the future glory yet to come, they also speak to the here and now, "Nor life, nor things present, nor anything else in all creation." And that for me presents a problem. That problem interestingly enough, is faith. It is fairly easy for us to believe that our loving God will somehow forgive and receive us into the Kingdom of God; it is much harder, I think, for many of us to accept that that graceful forgiveness and reception is meant to take place here and now. Let me be blunt. I think it is a whole lot easier to believe, to trust, that God will take care of us when we die then it is to believe that God is taking care of us already. We can conceptualize "Letting Go and letting God," at the end of our earthly journey, when we no longer have any choice but to do so because we are about to die anyway, but it is much harder to "Let go and let God," when we are still very much alive and want to be in control of our lives. Did you notice the quote from David Steindl-Rast which appears as the Words for Meditation in this morning's bulletin? "Letting Go and letting God," in the here and now, in the present requires faith, and faith is nothing at all if it is not also trust. To have faith is to trust, and in the case of faith in God it is to trust God with our very lives. To have faith is to trust, and for Christians that means to trust in God manifested in the person of Jesus Christ. I think David Steindl-Rast is absolutely right when he states that the opposite of faith is not disbelief but distrust, and that fear is at the root of our inability or unwillingness to trust. Time and time again Jesus' disciples run into this. Again in this morning's gospel account they run into fear as distrust: "Send them (the crowds) away to go into the villages to buy food for themselves," they tell Jesus. But he responds, "You give them something to eat." I can almost hear their hearts leap up in their throats. "What? There must be five thousand people here, and that's not even counting the women and children. How on earth do you think we are going to be able to feed all of them? Are you crazy!?!" In a very tangible way Jesus teaches them once again to let go and let God. "What have you got in the way of food?" he asks. "Five loaves and two fishes, that's it, not enough to feed us let alone all these folks." Internally the dialogue must have been something like this, "We're not in control of the situation here Jesus. If you had told us to begin with that you wanted to feed all these people we could have formed a committee to plan a reasonable menu and then set up some fund raisers ahead of time to raise the money necessary for throwing this little soiree. We could have gone shopping to buy the necessary supplies while you were healing and talking to the crowd. Then we could have asked for a team of volunteers to cook for this throng." I guess they didn't remember his words uttered some time earlier, "Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor about your body what you shall put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing…your heavenly father knows that you need them all. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be yours as well." The delivery of this sermon was postponed by a week. Last Sunday I confessed to you that I had had some trouble in preparing for this sermon. Truth be told, and I do so again today, I had trouble with the sermon because I don't "let go and let God very well." It's not that I'm a micro manager or that things have to be done my way. It's more that I am a typical human being who isn't comfortable left hanging in the unknown and out of control because sometimes that's what it feels like to "let go and let God." As a Christian I don't have trouble with seeking first the kingdom of God and trusting that all these other things will be provided by God. I don't tend to worry about "things" much. And therefore I don't have trouble letting go of worry about ‘things' and letting God have a go at them. It's not things per se I have a hard time letting go of it's more people and even ideas. Let me read to you the entire quote from David Steindl-Rast, "To have faith does not primarily mean believing something, but rather believing in someone. Faith is trust. It takes courage to trust. The opposite of faith is not disbelief, but rather distrust, fear. Fear makes us cling to anything within reach. Fear clings even to beliefs. Thus, beliefs can even get in the way of faith. In genuine faith we hold beliefs firmly, but lightly. We trust God, not in our particular understanding of God. That is why people of deep faith are one at heart, even though their beliefs may differ widely. When beliefs become more important than faith, even small differences create insurmountable barriers." What I have a hard time letting go of is people and what I believe to be true and right for them. It's hard for me to pray an open ended prayer for my children and the people I love. I do it, but I'm not convinced God really believes it when I say at the end of my prayer, "Thy will be done, Lord." You see I think I know what's right for them and I forget that there is a higher authority that might have something else in mind. Hannah Whitall Smith writes in The Christian's Secret to a Happy Life, "I do beg you to recognize, then, the extreme simplicity of faith; namely, that it is nothing more nor less than just believing God when He says He either has done something for us, or will do it; and then trusting Him to keep His word. It is so simple that it is hard to explain. If anyone asks me what it means to trust another to do a piece of work for me, I can answer only that it means committing the work to that other, and leaving it without anxiety in his hands." It's really that simple but nobody ever said simple was easy did they? This sermon is a work in progress because this sermon is about life and the journey of faith, the journey of trust. Like most journeys it really isn't about reaching a destination as much as it is about the journey, the traveling on the journey itself. Funny thing is that when you go on this journey, following after Jesus, somewhere along the way you experience five thousand plus people being fed, you experience healing of mind and spirit and body and souls, sometimes your own, most often other people. You experience little changes in your self and you recognize those changes in others and then you slowly realize that you are different, not the same, no longer the same. Little by little faith helps you to let go while on the journey and little by little you let God. Anne Lamott writes in Traveling Mercies, "It's funny: I always imagined when I was a kid that adults had some kind of inner toolbox, full of shiny tools: the saw of discernment, the hammer of wisdom, the sandpaper of patience. But when I grew up I found that life handed you these rusty bent tools – friendships, prayer, conscience, honesty – and said, do the best you can with these, they will have to do. And mostly, against all odds, they're enough." In the end, the tools God gives us to take along on the journey are good enough because after all, all God expects of us is to do the best we can. I don't minimize that and I don't think God does either. We are expected to do the best that we can, sometimes that means hoping against hope, praying without ceasing, turning the other cheek, seeking out the other and not letting the sun fall on our anger, loving our enemies, forgiving seventy times seven, loving our neighbor as we do ourselves, in short, loving God with all that we have and all that we are. Having done the best we can then we can have faith and trust that God will keep God's promises to us. It's just that simple to let go and let God.
Matthew 14:22-33 A Sermon Preached on Sunday August 7, 2005 Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time This morning I continue our journey into the exploration of, "Letting Go and Letting God," something, admittedly, I don't do as well as I wished I could. Last week I stated that in order to let go and let God is a matter for the here and now, that is, it is not reserved for that time when we are about to end this earthly journey. Letting go and letting God is also for the present and it requires faith, and faith is nothing at all if it is not also trust. To have faith is to trust, and in the case of faith in God it is to trust God with our very beings and lives; with our minds, bodies and spirits. In addition, for Christians, it means to trust in God manifested in the person of Jesus Christ. Frederick Buechner, Presbyterian minister and novelist writes about faith, "Faith is better understood as a verb than a noun, as a process than as a possession. It is on-again-off-again rather than once-and-for-all. Faith is not being sure where you're going but going anyway. A journey without maps." When one embarks on a journey without maps it is good to bring a healthy dose of trust along. Again I say that faith is nothing without trust. David Steindl-Rast writes, "To have faith does not primarily mean believing something, but rather believing in someone. Faith is trust. It takes courage to trust. The opposite of faith is not disbelief, but rather distrust, fear. Fear makes us cling to anything within reach. Fear clings even to beliefs. Thus, beliefs can even get in the way of faith. In genuine faith we hold beliefs firmly, but lightly. Our journey as Christians, as followers of the Christ, is one of increasing faith, of ever increasing trust. We learn to trust God more and more by following Jesus the Christ. We have faith that God will keep God's promises to us; promises not just about life after death but also promises about the here and now. "I am with you always," Jesus promises his disciples, and that means here in this place, not only in this sanctuary but also in our places of work and play and in our homes. "The opposite of faith is not disbelief, but rather distrust, fear." We have grown quite accustomed to fear in our world. I think it is fair to say that we have once again become a very fearful people. I say again because we as a nation once lived with fear regularly. Remember the nuclear attack drills at school. To think that putting your notebook or crouching under your desk would keep you safe. Today we fear the attacks of terrorists even in the most unlikely places. Fear is a constant. We have developed an intimate relationship with it. We live our lives in "Condition Orange" most of the time, fearful of the unknown, of the stranger, fearful even of our own shadows. But "fear" was not always a negative and a bad thing. Fear, in the biblical sense used to be defined as a healthy respect for the wonder and awesomeness of God. Yes, Adam and Eve, the first characters in the biblical text to fear, were afraid of God because they had disobeyed God and bitten the proverbial forbidden fruit, but they also feared God because they had seen God's wonder-fullness. They knew God, intimately, they were made in God's image. In a very real sense then, they were awestruck by God. Do a word study of the word fear as it is used in the synoptic Gospels and you will find that in almost every case it is used to describe people's reaction to Jesus' miracles, his healings, his astonishing teaching, his presence, his preaching, his authority, in short his reflection of the presence of God in him and through him. Kathleen Norris writes in Amazing Grace, a Vocabulary of Faith, "I sense much fear of fear in the contemporary landscape. Having lost the ancient sense of fear as a healthy dose of reverence and wonder, we are left with only the negative connotations of the word. The "fear of the Lord" spoken of in the Bible as the "beginning of wisdom" becomes incomprehensible; instead of opening us up, allowing us to explore our capacity for devotion in the presence of something larger and wiser than ourselves, fear is seen as something that shrinks us, harms us, and renders us incapable of acting on our own behalf." Time and time again God's messengers, God's angels, and Jesus himself begin encounters with people and disciples by stating, "fear not," or as we have it in this morning's gospel lesson, "Don't be afraid." Peter, don't be afraid! You have to love Peter, I sure do; the first to recognize Jesus for who he is; the first among the disciples to call him Christ, Messiah, Savior; The rock upon which the church is built and in spite of all, and yet, so wonderfully human, so wonderfully us. He embodies both our understanding and our fear. In his encounter with Jesus in today's gospel he is afraid of the dark and what may lurk there, he fears the unknown, terror "Condition Red." According to Matthew, "But when the disciples saw Jesus walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, "It is a ghost."" Then he fears the Lord, as in the beginning of wisdom, in his confession, "Lord if it is you, bid me come to you on the water." And then having taken a few steps out in faith on the water, trusting in his heart the presence of his savior and friend he returns to the fear which plague's us all and sinks into that fear and the circumstances of a life with little faith and little trust. How hard it is to walk in faith, in trust and without fear, to follow where Jesus leads. But let's not miss the fact that when he cried out in fear for help Jesus reached out immediately, immediately and caught him. After all we have to learn to trust, and that can only happen when we dare to journey with our Christ. Again I quote from Kathleen Norris, "The more I am aware of God's presence in my life, and in the world, the more intimate this relationship becomes, the more I am in awe. And the more I stand in holy fear, the smaller I seem in the face of God's vastness, God's, might, God's being. "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom" is a simple truth, a truth and a fear I can live with. (ibid) May it be so for us all.
Genesis 6:9-22, 7:24, 8:14-19 Romans 1:16-17, 3:22b-31 Matthew 7:21-29 A Sermon Preached on Sunday May 29, 2005 Presbyterian Heritage Sunday "My heart I give to you, Lord, eagerly and sincerely." This was motto John Calvin's carried on his crest. The emblem presents a flaming heart held in a hand outstretched to God. Quite frankly, if it weren't for John Calvin, we, that is Presbyterians, probably wouldn't be here today. John Calvin was born in Noyen, France in 1509. He studied law in leading French Universities and at the age of twenty three or four, falling under the influence of the French reformers, was converted. He fled to Switzerland because French Protestants were being persecuted. The first edition of the Institutes of the Christian Religion, his most famous statement of the reformed faith was published in 1536. He dedicated the work to the King of France and summoned France to reform. James H. Smylie, Ernest Trice Thompson Professor of Church History Emeritus at Union Theological Seminary in Virginia writes of Calvin in A Brief History of the Presbyterians, "In Geneva, Calvin gave shape to the city's religious life. He focused on the worship of God throughout the community, developing a form of adoration involving the full participation of the people...He also reorganized the governance of the church under a representative system of pastors and laity, continuing to preserve the proper relation with the civil magistrates of the city…he had a profound impact on the social, political, and economic life of the city." "My heart I give to you, Lord, eagerly and sincerely." His theology rested on a number of beliefs, foremost among them was the understanding that we are saved by grace alone. Because of that, all Glory belongs to God for we can do nothing to merit God's grace. Some of the key issues developed by Calvin and his followers which separated them from the Catholics were as follows; see if you still hold these to be true: Justification by faith – They believed, as we still do to this day, that Christ's sacrifice atones for all sins. There is nothing we humans can do by our own efforts to add or detract from it. No acts of devotion or charity or any such thing is necessary for salvation. The priesthood of all believers – all believers have equal access to God and no other earthly intermediaries are needed. Calvin did believe that leaders, i.e., minister and teachers were still needed to lead the flock, but this office held no special sacramental functions. The Scriptures contained in the Old and New Testaments are the only source of true doctrine. For this reason it was imperative that the scriptures be translated in the language of and placed in the hands of the people. The Lord's Supper is a symbolic act, an act of remembrance and the body and the blood of Christ are not physically present in the sacrament. No heavenly intermediaries are necessary to intercede with God on our behalf. Although the Virgin Mary, saints and angels are all in heaven, they should not be the objects of our prayers. And the making of images encourages idolatrous worship that should be directed at the more abstract concept of God. God's foreknowledge and omnipotence mean that everyone is predestined to their fate: either to be or not to be one of the elect. Human action avails nothing. The bible only documents two sacraments: baptism and the Lord's Supper. Therefore there are no other sacraments to be added to these two. I don't know about you but for the most part, I still hold these to be true. I have a difficult time completely accepting the doctrine of Predestination because I still believe that God gives us a choice, that we are given the will, the free will to choose, or not to choose God. But that's a discussion perhaps best left for our theology 101 course held every second Thursday evening. "My heart I give to you, Lord, eagerly and sincerely." It was with eagerness and sincerity, by grace, that Calvin gave his life to God and the reforming of God's church in Geneva. The reformation crossed the English Channel and flowed throughout the British Isles. In Scotland its leading figure was John Knox. Knox, born in 1514, was educated in Glasgow. He became involved in the conflict between the Scots and the French, was captured by the French and forced to row in a galley for nineteen months. As professor Smylie puts it in the book noted earlier, "His punishment did nothing good for his disposition." Knox would later flee to Geneva and study under Calvin. In 1559 he returned to Scotland with his new learning. That same year the French and the English withdrew their forces from Scotland and a year later the Scottish Parliament established the Presbyterian Church as the Church of Scotland. Knox was set afire by his beliefs. Bold and zealous enough that when he debated the faith with Mary, Queen of Scotts he forced her to tears. He finished their discussion by stating, "When it shall please God to deliver you from the bondage of darkness and error in which you have been nourished, then your Majesty will find the liberty of my tongue not to be offensive. In the preaching place, Madam, I am not the master of myself, but must obey Him who commands me to speak plain, and to flatter no flesh upon the face of the earth." From Scotland the Reformed word would spread to Ireland and then the new world, and the American wilderness. Again I turn to Professor Smylie. He writes, "The Reverend Francis Makemie (d. 1708) an Ulster Scot immigrant to the American wilderness, often has been referred to as the "Father of American Presbyterians." He settled on the eastern shore of Virginia in 1683, planting churches in Maryland, as well as Virginia … Presbyterians were among the earliest Reformed immigrants to America … Although Roman Catholics, Lutherans, and other religious groups may be found in the early European migration, Calvinists of Anglican, Huguenots, Dutch and German, Congregationalists, and Presbyterian persuasions dominated this early colonization Process." Well enough. Why this history lesson? To begin with, I believe that in order to know where to go, it helps to know where we have been. In order to move into the future, it helps to be informed by our past. As the words for meditation in this morning's bulletin state, "A church that forgets its past loses its future." Knowing who we have been helps us appreciate who we are. Our history will help us sort what we need to keep and what we can safely let go. "My heart I give to you, Lord, eagerly and sincerely." But more than illuminating our future I think it is important to remember who we are as Presbyterians because we are heirs to a rich tradition of leaders and teachers and members who were reborn with the power of the Holy Spirit. Not unlike the apostles and disciples on that first Pentecost morn our fore fathers and mothers braved censure, persecution and even martyrdom for what they believed to be true and right. I think we may need to be reminded of the stuff of which we are made. I think we may need to be reminded of the blood which flows in our ecclesiastical veins. We are a people who first and foremost give our hearts to God, eagerly and sincerely. We have survived the galleys of persecution and stood toe to toe with monarchs and world leaders for what we knew to be right and true. By grace, we have braved the wilds of the sea and tamed a wilderness. Through faith we have forged a place for God in a new land, not always perfectly, to be sure, but with the intentions born of a pure heart. And, when at fault, brave enough to admit our guilt. We have been the voice of the poor and the rejected and the conscience of a nation and I see that lacking, lacking in a nation and a world sorely in need of God's grace. The words of Jesus contained in this mornings Gospel reading from Matthew are a terrible reminder of the expectation Jesus has for his followers, for us. It is not enough to say we are followers we must also live out, flesh out daily that Gospel revelation. Paul reminds the Christians gathered in Rome that we are called not to be ashamed of the gospel we preach. God's grace costs us nothing, no merit, no price but it is not without responsibility. "My heart I give to you, Lord, eagerly and sincerely." In a few moments you will be asked once again to rededicate yourselves to God's purposes here on earth. Remember who you are, your history and heritage. Remember also that God's promises to us whether it be in the metaphorical sign of the rainbow or in the reality of Jesus Christ are never empty. Neither should the promises we make to God. I hope that, like me, when the time comes to rededicate myself and my clan I shall say in my spirit, like so many reformers before me, "My heart I give to you, Lord, eagerly and sincerely."
A sermon preached on April 11, 2004 Easter Sunday I thought before you all leave worship to go to your Easter dinner I should talk to you about dieting. I know this topic is very popular these days. There are all kinds of diets and weight loss programs to choose from. They all pretty much promise to change your life and turn you into a new person. And that's my claim too, that's why the sermon today is entitled, "Being Thin for Easter." My diet however isn't based on reducing your intake of carbohydrates, or increasing your intake of protein or cutting out fats. No, in fact my diet has nothing to do with food at all, but it is all about being heart healthy, and being thin. As part of our journey through lent a number of us read and studied a wonderful little book by Marcus Borg called, The Heart of Christianity, subtitled Rediscovering a life of Faith. In that book Marcus Borg, Professor of Religion and Culture at Oregon State University, devotes a whole chapter to what he refers to as, "Thin Places." "Thin places" is a metaphor he borrows from Celtic Christianity. The Celts inhabited Ireland, parts of Scotland, Wales and Northern England. They were very much in tune with the world of nature and in touch with the Holy around them and in them. Borg writes, "Thin places has its home in a particular way of thinking about God. Deeply rooted in the Bible and the Christian tradition, this way of thinking sees God, "the More," as the encompassing Spirit in which everything is. God is not somewhere else, but "right here." In words attributed to Paul in the book of Acts, God is "the one in whom we live and move and have our being. "Note how the words work: we are in God, we live in God, we move and have our being in God. God is a nonmaterial layer of reality all around us, "right here" as well as more than right here. This way of thinking thus affirms that there are minimally two layers or dimensions of reality, the visible world of our ordinary experience and God, the sacred, Spirit" The Celts believed that God is everywhere and every once in a while we see God, experience God. Thomas Merton, a twentieth-century Trappist monk put it this way, "Life is this simple. We are living in a world that is absolutely transparent, and God is shinning through it all the time. This is not just a fable or a nice story. It is true. If we abandon ourselves to God and forget ourselves, we see it sometimes, and we see it maybe frequently." Thin places, places where God shines through, where we see God, where we experience God. "At the crack of dawn on Sunday, the women came to the tomb carrying the burial spices they had prepared. They found the entrance stone rolled back from the tomb, so they walked in." (Peterson, The Message) They went to the tomb expecting to find a body, a dead body instead they walked in to a thin place where they experienced the risen Christ. "Why are you looking for the risen one in a cemetery, he is not here, but is raised up." (Ibid) That same day on the road to a neighboring town two disciples encounter a stranger who in the course of conversation lifts a mirror to them and they see whose they are, they understand what it means to be a disciple, they get it and they experience the risen Christ. A thin place. Listen, it doesn't have to be that dramatic, and you don't have to be one of the original twelve to encounter a thin place. I quote Thomas Merton again, "God shows Himself everywhere, in everything – in people and in things and in nature and events. It becomes very obvious that God is everywhere and in everything and we cannot be without Him. It's impossible. The only thing is that we don't see it." So, have you been to a thin place lately? Or do you not see it? Because of course sometimes we do. Sometimes "the veil momentarily lifts, and we behold God, experience the one in whom we live, all around us and within us." (Borg, The Heart of Christianity) I think that if you search your hearts you'll find that this is why you are here today. You have experienced the risen Christ in your life in the past, or want to. You have encountered thin places before and you long for more such experiences. I share with you the diet secrets to encountering God in the thin places of life. But, like every diet, it helps to have some resolve and a willingness to work at it, and of course exercise is important to. You start by softening your heart through forgiveness. Come on, I know there's probably someone in your life that needs your forgiveness. O, but it feels so much better hanging on to the anger and the disappointment. Well maybe, but you don't get heart healthy without exercising forgiveness, a lot. Next, open your eyes and ears. Jesus calls us to do that. Why? Because when we do we see beyond ourselves and hear a voice other than our own. After a while we even get beyond thinking, "What's in it for me?" and we start thinking about someone else. From there we practice gratitude and giving thanks. For all of you who see the glass as being half empty, start giving thanks for the half that's there, that will make your heart glad. Now, let's begin to look for the orphans and the widows, metaphorically speaking. Seek justice for those discriminated against. Stand up for what you know God calls just. Be compassionate, that is, show compassion for all the suffering that people go through in this life. Come to worship. Pretty blatant on my part huh? But the point is that many people experience God through prayer and song, hymn and sermon. Some had a thin place experience on Maundy Thursday, other on Good Friday. And it wouldn't hurt you to belong to this community of faith, to make a commitment. No this place isn't perfect and neither are the people who frequent it, but God has been seen here from time to time and the sinners here are also good people who have experienced the risen Christ. Imagine, we could share our experiences and our stories, our joys and our burdens. A supportive community of dieters is important too. Here is my guarantee. Actually it's God's guarantee, but I'll back it up from my own experience, a steady diet of this heart healthy food will get you into thin places.
A sermon preached on June 29, 2003 Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Jaroslav Pelikan, theologian and sterling professor of history at Yale University wrote a wonderful book in 1988 entitled The Melody of Theology, A Philosophical Dictionary. I picked it up and bought it many years ago simply because of the title. It spoke to two of my most profound interests and passions, melody or music and theology. The book is a series of articles by Dr. Pelikan on various subjects related to the journey of faith but it also includes a marvelous article on, Melody. Melody is not a subject one would expect to find in a Philosophical dictionary. If all one considers is the length of the article then there isn't much to the article at all really. It is just three pages long. But in those three pages Dr. Pelikan says a lot. Listen, "Of all the arts, the one that has had the most continuous positive relation with Christian faith and theology is music...There has never been a time since Jesus and his disciples sang the Passover hymn in the upper room on the night of his betrayal (Matt. 26:30), that music and verse did not figure prominently in Christian life and worship." He concludes his article on melody with the quote from Fredrich Schleiermacher's Second Address, "The virtuosity (or special calling) of a person is at the same time the melody of that person's life, and it remains a simple meager series of notes unless religion, with its necessary rich variety, accompanies it with all notes, and raises the simple song to a full voiced, glorious harmony" There is significant and long-standing connection between the human experience and music isn't there? Even more with melody. For melody in its most primitive definition has been around ever since we as a creation have possessed the ability to join the two constituents of melody, pitch and rhythm. It has been around since we developed the ability to hum and to whistle. Melodies are a profound connection to times past, to memories and events. A melody is powerful in its ability to transport us to another place. Melodies can identify a person, an era, a historical period or event, even a spiritual experience. For example: Even people not schooled in classical music literature will recognize the motif to Beethoven's 5th symphony or to the 1812 Overture by Tchaikovsky or Handel's Hallelujah Chorus. We also associate certain melodies with particular historical eras. Yankee Doodle and Dixie remind us of wars and turmoil in our nation's history. Can you think of others? I'm quite sure that you can. We also associate personal memories to melodies. I have always thought of "Stardust" by Hoagie Carmichael as one of the most beautiful melodies composed. Listen to the words of the first line. "Sometimes I wonder why I spend the lonely nights dreaming of a song. The melody haunts my reverie..." There are many melodies that haunt our reverie, don't you think? An old song is played on the radio and we are transported to a different time and place. We see faces and smell scents. We relive memories. The power of melody!!! The melodies of familiar hymns are also powerful reminders of significant times and memories in our journey of faith. I have shared with the Worship Team of our church numerous times to keep in mind that most of us experience worship as an eighty percent emotional response and a twenty percent intellectual response. We get misty eyed when we sing an old familiar hymn that was one of grandma's favorites and which was sung at her funeral. We get miffed at the pastor when he/she chooses hymns that are unfamiliar. The early church knew the importance of music and melody; since most people were illiterate they learned the principles of faith through the singing of hymns and carols. The Oxford companion to music in its introductory remarks on melody states:
Melody, without harmony is all surface. Theologically speaking, Frederick Scleiermacher wrote very much the same thing. Listen again to his words. "The virtuosity (or special calling) of a person is at the same time the melody of that person's life, and it remains a simple meager series of notes unless religion, with its necessary rich variety, accompanies it with all notes, and raises the simple song to a full voiced, glorious harmony" It remains a simple, meager series of notes unless religion accompanies it! Music and religion have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. I first stepped into a church at a week old in age in my mother's arms and have never left. And music, I remember listening to the classics, opera and popular songs at a very early age. Our house was always full of music. You may laugh but I can remember the excitement and true sense of accomplishment I felt when I and the other members of my Junior High School band were accomplished enough to harmonize together. At that moment I was no longer a single, solitary clarinetist but part of a whole --- a new, more comprehensive, harmonious whole. It would be many years later before I would experience that same revelation in my religious life, no longer a single, solitary sojourner and believer but through Christ a part of a new comprehensive reality. In the words of Paul, part of the body of Christ. My theological melody was harmonized through grace as God permeated my life with love and forgiveness. And with the loving presence of others, my parents, my brothers, my children, my life partner and spouse Cyndi, and the friends that entered my life along the way. All served to harmonize my life, along with God, acting through the joys and disappointments, heartaches and celebrations, deaths and resurrections. It was in the church and with its members that I became whole. Because it is in the church that I am challenged to grow to my full creative potential. It is in the church that I am nourished and nurtured. It is in the church that my melody is harmonized. Melody without harmony is all surface and religion with its endless rich variety raises the simple song to a full voiced, glorious harmony. While in the Navy I was once called in to the executive officers office and given a tongue-lashing. She said the chapel community was "exclusive" and "cliquish" that we tended to do things together and socialize and congregate with each other even at command social functions. After giving the XO'S criticism much thought I came to this conclusion. The chapel community was not exclusive. In fact we always made an extra effort to be inclusive. However, we were guilty to spending time with each other and enjoying each other's company. For good reason! We shared each other's burdens and joys, we helped one another in times of pain and trouble, we celebrated our highest joys with one another, and we harmonized. Why? Because, fundamentally, we shared the same foundation, the same belief, the same grace and forgiveness. Our individual melodies combined to form one great resonant full voiced, glorious harmony! I experienced yet another example of this most recently on the mission trip. Fifteen members of this church with ages ranging from pre-teen to, well, older and wiser folks, all boarded a sixteen-passenger van and drove off to Acuña, Mexico. We worked together, played together, prayed together, laughed and cried together, broke bread together, sang together and harmonized, not just with one another but also with our brothers and sisters of the Fuente de Vida congregation. In Christ we can harmonize our faith across cultural, social, economic boundaries because we are all one in Christ, all part of the same body. Of courser, the harmony sometimes has dissonant chords. The church isn't perfect. Our understanding and interpretation of the scripture isn't perfect and therefore our practice of religion isn't perfect. But even with all its imperfection it is a glorious symphony as compared to the empty and void cacophony, which is the world's reality. The virtuosity of a person is at the same time the melody of that person's life. What is your melody? Is it a simple, meager series of notes? Is it all surface? It is, and will continue to be without God who harmonizes. There is a wonderful tale told of a journalist interviewing Albert Einstein for a local newspaper. When the subject of Einstein's theory of Relativity came up, try as he may, Dr. Einstein was unable to make the journalist comprehend. He told the young man to come by his home later on in the day and he would take out his violin and try to play it for him. Explain to you what I have been trying to say in this sermon any better? I don't think I can but perhaps I can sing it for you.
One Flesh, Divorce and Communion Mark 10:2-16 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time World Communion Sunday I am, as all of you are, the product of my own best and worst choices in life. I am the product of my own decisions as they are influenced by a myriad of things from my culture, religion, society, ethics, myths and mores. Theologically speaking, I am the product of my sin and God's grace. Specifically today, in light of the topic at hand, I am a divorced person. Jesus' words, as stated by the gospel writer Mark, are very clear about divorce. They are made even more so when he takes his disciples aside to clarify his position and explain his expectations of them and of us as his followers and disciples. So in a very real sense as a divorced person, in light of the gospel reading this morning, what I have just read condemns me. I have sinned. Period. Regardless of the circumstances, the societal pressures, the interpersonal relationship between my wife and me. Jesus is clear. Now I am reminded of the words of Martin Luther, the great father of the Protestant Reformation who said that our sin is always overshadowed by God's grace. According to Luther, as a follower of Christ and aware of his expectations, because I have sinned, I am made that much more aware and receptive to the grace of God in my life. By the way, that often quoted and equally as often miss quoted saying of Martin Luther is part of the concluding paragraph of a letter Philip Melanchthon written on August 1, 1521. In it he sates the following, "If you are a preacher of grace, then preach a true and not a fictitious grace; if grace is true, you must bear a true and not a fictitious sin. God does not save people who are only fictitious sinners. Be a sinner and sin boldly, but believe and rejoice in Christ even more boldly, for he is victorious over sin, death, and the world. As long as we are here [in this world] we have to sin. This life is not the dwelling place of righteousness, but, as Peter says, we look for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells. It is enough that by the riches of God's glory we have come to know the Lamb that takes away the sin of the world. No sin will separate us from the Lamb, even though we commit fornication and murder a thousand times a day. Do you think that the purchase price that was paid for the redemption of our sins by so great a Lamb is too small? Pray boldly--you too are a mighty sinner." I am not happy that I am a ‘mighty sinner' and that my first marriage ended in divorce. It is not something I like to talk about. And yet, here I am, in church, in the midst of my church family revealing my sin. Let us look at the text once again, not as a way to lessen the sting of Jesus' words to us who are divorced but rather in an attempt to understand and appreciate the grace that infuse his words. Jesus expresses God's expectations of us and reminds us that God has always had high expectations of us. Just remember the Garden story, where everything that God touches, everything created is created good. Everything is created Good with a capital, Divine ‘G'. That means that our relationships with one another were created Good. The relationship that we enter into in marriage was created Good. To that we as human beings answer, "But Jesus, the problem here is the assumption that we are Good. And we are far from it. Your expectations are so high that we cannot help but fall short. The problem, Jesus, is that men and women, in actuality, don't love each other so that they truly become one flesh. The problem, Jesus, is that sometimes men and women get married and their marriage turns abusive and one or the other refuses to change. The problem, Jesus, is that sometimes men and women are in marriages that are so destructive that wives and husbands lose their faith, in each other, in others and even in you." This leads us to ask, as the Hebrews asked of Moses, "Jesus, what are you going to do with us who fall short of your expectations, who fall short of the will of God?" Give us a law that will help us out of our bind. But Jesus doesn't offer law as a way to avoid the higher demands of God. He doesn't allow our law to legitimize a lesser standard for us. He doesn't allow our laws to lead us to feeling righteous relative to our culture. No, instead he points to the priority of God's Good will and God's grace. Jesus answers us, as he did the woman caught in adultery, "Your sins are forgiven, now go and sin no more." Your sins are forgiven, that's Good News. It is God's grace to us. Sin no more, that's our response to grace. Now, on to what all this has to do with communion. Jesus, in today's gospel lesson reveals for us God's expectation of human relationships, a concept that God created in us and for us, when God created us Good in God's image, as it is stated in Genesis. That expectation of you and me and our neighbors across the street and our neighbors across the world is symbolized in today's celebration of communion. Today the church, as a world wide community states, "Today we shed our differences and sit at this table as members of the same family, united in flesh and in spirit". At this table my friends, we forgive one another as the Lord has forgiven us. At this table we work at making our relationships grow. At this table we believe the kingdom of God exists, now and for all. At this table we sit at God's table, prepared for us since we were created. At this table we live the reality that Christ has taught us. At this table we come as broken people and leave having been made whole. And, we rededicate ourselves to God's good principle of grace through which we are loved and love one another find hope and realize justice and peace.
(Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32) A sermon preached on March 21, 2004 John Dominic Crossan, former Professor of Theology at DePaul University in Chicago, defines a parable quite simply as "A very short metaphorical narrative." (Cliffs of Fall, Paradox and Polyvalence in the Parables of Jesus) Theologian Paul Ricoeur once wrote that he found in parables, "the extraordinary in the ordinary (Semeia 4: Paul Ricoeur on Biblical Hemeneutics). I am particularly found of that phrase, the "extraordinary in the ordinary" when speaking of parables. I think it is most descriptive of Jesus' parables. Indeed we find ourselves, when confronted with Jesus' parables, confronted by the extraordinary within the ordinary. Crossan goes on to say, "Parables, one could say, are made of glass. Some parables are the glass of windows through whose clarity we see a world outside, a world framed by them for our directed vision. But others are the glass of mirrors. They consistently resist our attempts to turn them into windows and their reflective opacity reveals instead the faces of those who look upon them. . . Not just our faces but our eyes, not just ourselves but ourselves looking, not just what we perceive but how we perceive." I remind you that parables are not meant to be explained but pondered. They are deliberately difficult to put aside. They tease the hearer to play with them, to pick at them, to look at them from different angles, different perspectives. This morning I invite you to allow yourself to be challenged by Jesus' words. Look in the mirror which is parable and dare to see not just your face but your eyes, not just yourself but yourself looking, not just what you perceive but how you perceive the world. In order to truly appreciate the nature of this parable of the loving father a few clarifying statements need to be made. Take note of the setting. We are told that tax collectors and sinners were gathering to listen to Jesus. Indeed, Jesus was attracting such people, much to the disapproval of the Pharisees. Lest we be too harsh in our judgment of the Pharisees let's be clear on who these tax collectors and sinners really were. Tax collectors were folks who had taken jobs with the foreign government, the army of occupation and were making money-collecting taxes from their own people. Sinners were people who had been thrown out of the synagogues because of the severity of their offenses. These folks were not "simply friendly folk who have been misunderstood". (Fred B.Craddock, Interpretation A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching). Jesus' behavior was shocking because he was not only teaching these folks out in the public square but was also associating with them. He had even gone so far as to eat with them in their homes. Jesus' behavior is shocking and the parable itself shocks its hearers. You need to understand that although by custom the younger son was entitled to receive one third of the inheritance, usually collection occurred only after the father's death. Also, the reference to the younger son caring for pigs was an indication that he was living outside the covenant. Finally the pods referred to in verse sixteen were the long pods of the carob tree, eaten by animals and at times of great desperation, by the extremely poor (Interpretation). Let's face it, this parable rubs us the wrong way too. It is blatantly unfair. Most of us are generous enough, Christian enough, to allow room for forgiveness. Sure, we are willing to allow for crazy old bleeding-heart-liberal dads to take their sons back in. We all have learned the "forgiveness" lesson over the years in Sunday school and church. But the father's response doesn't show forgiveness. Forgiveness is not a banquet with music and dancing. When we have done wrong, we are supposed to somehow pay for our mistakes. Forgiveness is "...bread and water, not, fatted calf; sackcloth, not a new robe; wearing ashes, not a new ring; tears, not merriment; kneeling, not dancing". (Interpretation). I wonder, if you or I had been a friend of the family, if we had lived next door, if we had seen all the pain the younger son's actions had brought to his father and older brother, would we have gone to the party thrown in his honor? If so then with what kind of attitude? Would we have looked for an opportunity to take the younger son aside and let him have it? Don't we tend to side with the older brother who remained faithful, steady and appreciative of his father's love? Don't we feel that somehow he got a raw deal in this parable? Our society seems to foster a kind of self-righteous, competitive nature when it comes to life and life includes forgiveness. "The common thought is that there must be losers if there are winners. Hence, even in religion, it is very difficult not to think Jews or Gentiles, poor or rich, saints or sinners, publican or Pharisee, older son or younger son". (Interpretation). Jesus tells us however that God's love and forgiveness does not conform. It is not an either/or love, rather God's love and forgiveness is both/and. In the parable and the loving action of the father, the embrace of the younger son did not mean the rejection of the older. Just as Jesus' love of tax collectors and sinners does not at all negate his love of Pharisees and scribes. Sometimes we forget that Jesus loved the Pharisees and scribes too. "Such is God's love, but we find it difficult not to be offended by God's grace toward another, especially if we have serious questions about that person's conduct and character." (Interpretation). The title of the sermon this morning refers to God's unconditional love for us. Here is how. Perhaps you have seen the famous painting of the prodigal son by Rembrandt painted not long before his death. It full of the stuff that one associates with Rembrandt; The interplay of light and dark; expressive and complex expressions on the characters; rich colors and hues. In the painting the son is on his knees being embraced by his father while three other characters in the background look on. Strikingly, the son is wearing only one slipper, on his right foot the other has fallen off and lays by his left foot. It's the slipper and his bare foot that always grabbed my attention. There is a story about another painting this one created by an aboriginal person after hearing the parable of the loving father. The painting depicts the scene accurately and beautifully with the noted exception that the father was wearing only one sandal. When someone inquired to the artist if this had been an oversight, he replied, "Oh no! You see the father loved his son so much, and was so happy to see him return that in his excitement to rush out to meet him he forgot to put his other shoe on." That is the kind of loving forgiveness I imagine God to have for us. Can it be that Jesus through this parable is calling us to this kind of love for one another? I wonder and ask myself in this season of lent how often I am willing to rush out to give forgiveness to another? Do I really embody the kind of divine love and forgiveness that Jesus is calling us to? Do I ever forget to put on my other shoe? Indeed, am I willing to forgive myself for those things I believe God has already forgiven me? Where are your shoes? Are they both on your feet always and at all times? God calls us to forgiveness, to reunion. Run to one another. Run to God. Forget the shoes! Run.
Luke 3:15-17, 21-22 A sermon preached on January 11, 2004 Baptism of the Lord Sunday A few weeks ago one of our youth caught me as I was about to walk into worship and asked me a profound question. The question, "When did Jesus know for sure that he was the Son of God?" I couldn't do the answer justice with a one-sentence answer before worship and I told her so. We met after worship but still spent too little time wrestling with the answer. So, here is a sermon I hope will be helpful in beginning to answer the question. First of all, I want to thank God that we have the kind of denomination and congregation that supports and encourages the kind of children, youth and adults who ask such questions. There is nothing that warms my pastor's soul more than to see people actually taking their walk with God seriously enough to ask questions and seek answers. I read an article, which appeared in The Atlantic Monthly not too long ago. The article is entitled, Religion, Let it Be, and is written by Jonathan Rauch, a correspondent for The Atlantic and a senior writer for National Journal. Rauch begins the article by stating, "It came to me recently in a blinding vision that I am an apatheist…I used to call myself an atheist, and I still don't believe in God, but the larger truth is that it has been years since I really cared one way or another. I'm an apatheist." Rauch defines "Apatheism" as a disinclination to care all that much about one's own religion, and an even stronger disinclination to care about other people's. I think Mr. Rauch is on to something. In fact I would venture to say that many filling America's churches on any given Sunday are apatheists. As Rauch points out in his article, "There are a lot of reasons to attend religious services: to connect with a culture or community, to socialize, to expose children to religion, to find the warming comfort of familiar ritual." "The softer denominations in America," which I interpret to mean the mainline denominations, of which The Presbyterian Church USA is a part, are packed with apatheists. So I thank you, Aleah, and all the rest of you who do care enough about your commitment to a journey of faith to ask questions and seek answers. I thank you for not being satisfied with memorizing doctrine and blindly repeating religious statements without even giving them a second thought. I thank you for not being apatheists and continuing the dialogue with God and our Christ by attending Sunday School classes that invite further growth in faith, or picking up a book to challenge what you believe and how you came about to believe this way. Way to Go! Good for you! So, When did Jesus know for sure that he was the Son of God? Well the easy answer to that question would be to say that he always knew it from the moment he was conceived. But to do so, I believe, would be to trivialize the profound notion that Jesus was fully human as we are. The church argued that point for more than three hundred years before finally concluding that he had to be both fully human and fully God. You might notice that the four gospels approach this question from four different points of view. Matthew quite abruptly ends the infancy narrative with Joseph going to Egypt while Jesus is a baby. Then he begins the story again thirty years later with Jesus being baptized by John in the Jordan River. Luke includes just one story after the story of the birth of Jesus. That story takes place twelve years later. You remember that Jesus is found by his parents in Jerusalem conversing with the teachers of the temple. As one comedian put it, Jesus got in so much trouble for scaring his parents so that he was grounded for the next 18 years. Luke like Matthew takes up the Jesus story at the banks of the river Jordan and Jesus' baptism as an adult. The Gospel writer Mark apparently didn't think writing about Jesus' birth was all that important to the message of the Good News because he begins the story at the River Jordan. There is no mention whatsoever of Jesus birth or any stories of Jesus as an adolescent. For Mark the formative event takes place at Jesus' baptism. John's Gospel, the most theologically rich of the four gospels, like that of Mark does not use any ink describing a birth in a stable. Instead John describes God's Son metaphorically as Word and Light. The first mention of Jesus as man appears at the river with John. As far as I am concerned it would seam reasonable that Jesus becomes aware of his essence and his mission as he approaches the waters of the Jordan. The words of John inflame him and the waters of the Jordan infuse him with the Spirit of God. All four gospels describe a pivotal event in the life of Jesus as he is baptized. He descends into the waters of the Jordan Jesus of Nazareth, he rises out of the waters of baptism dripping wet with the spirit of God. So Aleah, as I read the scriptures I believe that it was here, and at this time that Jesus understood whom he was. At this point Jonathan Rauch would say, "Hey, nice piece of research detailing events and happenings for which no one cares." More simply put, "Who cares?" Twenty years ago, Eugene Peterson, pastor, professor, theologian, bible translator wrote a book entitled, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction. In it he tries to address the apathy that already existed in the lives of so many would be Christians. He states, "Millions of people in our culture make decisions for Christ, but there is a dreadful attrition rate. Many claim to have been born again, but the evidence for mature Christian discipleship is slim. In our culture anything, even news about God, can be sold if it is packaged freshly; but when it loses its novelty, it goes on the garbage heap. There is a great market for religious experience in our world; there is little enthusiasm for the patient acquisition of virtue, little inclination to sign up for a long apprenticeship in what earlier generations of Christians called holiness" We want the recipe of faith to call for us to just add water. We don't want to have to wrestle with God, to understand the meaning of a walk with God. We don't want to have to wait on the patient acquisition of virtue. We're not interested in a long apprenticeship to holiness. We want to just add water. But Jesus' trip to the Jordan wasn't about just adding water to a ready-made mix of faith. Jesus' baptism, like ours was the beginning of a journey of faith toward God. A journey filled with danger and temptation; life changing decision-making; commitment and promise; love and self-sacrifice; discipline and freedom; patience and forgiveness; life and death and rebirth. Who cares indeed? Well, for one I do. I care about God's Good News for me, for you, for the world, for all of creation. I believe this message to be of vital importance to my life and yours. I care because I am foolish enough to believe that it makes a difference. That if we take the waters of our own baptism seriously enough we will walk the journey of faith and enter a long apprenticeship toward holiness and we will all be the better for it. I care because I believe that Jesus' message can help enliven the disillusioned of the world. I believe it can give people purpose and life. I care because I believe that Jesus' message can help reconcile those torn apart by hate or malice, or worse yet, apathy. I believe that God's loving spirit can inspire forgiveness and reunion between spouses and between parents and children and even between enemies. I care because I believe that Jesus' message can move us beyond a self centered, self-absorbed life to one of love for the other, even for the enemy within us and without. I care because I believe that Jesus' message can bring healing to broken people and a broken world. I care because I believe that Jesus' message can give us energy and enthusiasm about life. I don't think we are whole when we are apatheists. I care because, as trite as this may sound in this day and age, I really do believe that God loves us beyond all measure, and if God loves us so, then we shouldn't waste the precious gift of life by just walking through life, we should live it as God intended it to be lived. So, my question to you this day is, as we celebrate, The Baptism of the Lord, "When did you first become aware that you were a son and daughter of God, as the psalmist wrote in Psalm Eight, "created a little lower than God, and crowned with glory and honor," and does it make a difference to you at all?
Matthew 17:1-13 A sermon preached on February 6, 2005 Transfiguration of the Lord Douglas Hare, New Testament professor at Pittsburgh Seminary begins his commentary on Matthew 17 by stating that, "For modern readers, the story of the transfiguration of Jesus is one of the most difficult in the New Testament." I must say that I tend to agree with him. For me, not so much because the events in the story as Matthew tells are so fantastic as to be completely unbelievable but rather because what is described as taking place on the high mountain is so foreign to us. There are other cultures in the world whose practice of religion and experience of religion would make the transfiguration of Jesus not only believable but expected. For them, great religious leaders, teachers and mystics are supposed to have ecstatic religious experiences, and while "caught up in an intense experience of the divine are sometimes transformed," even to the point of appearing to shine or glow. Clearly Matthew is making a statement by including this story in his gospel. He wants to make it clear that Jesus is firmly planted in the Jewish tradition and that he fulfills the messianic expectation. Jesus claims his place along with Elijah and Moses but supersedes them as the long awaited Messiah. Be that as it may for us modern types now living two thousand years after the fact, who have accepted Jesus as Messiah, Lord and Savior, I think something else needs to be noticed in the story of the transfiguration. Over the course of the years I have come to believe that the transfiguration has less to say about Jesus than about Peter. When confronted by the Holy, experiencing the Holy, as Peter did on the mountain with James and John he doesn't know what to do. He asks Jesus if he and the other two should build booths. He wants to contain a moment that he doesn't really understand. Intellectually Peter knows who Jesus is. If you will remember in the chapter that precedes this passage, Jesus asked his disciples, "Who do people say I am?" and the disciples responded, "Some say John the Baptist, others say Elijah, and others Jeremiah or one of the prophets." Jesus continues, "But who do you say that I am?" And Peter replied, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." Peter knows who Jesus is. He is the Messiah. He believes this to be true. He can look back over their journey so far, remember Jesus' teachings and miracles, internalize, organize, interpret the information and then make a remarkable statement, "You are the Christ, the Messiah." But on the Mount he sees, he experiences who Jesus truly is, and that is scary. How many of us have made an intellectual commitment to Jesus as the Christ but if truth be known seldom take that commitment seriously. We say we follow Jesus but when the path we are called to follow is unfamiliar we quickly want to build a wall around Jesus, put him in a box where wee can keep an eye on him, keep him in our control. When we are confronted by the Holy through great joy or tragedy we become scared and want to retreat in to what we know, what we can control. We pray for answers to our questions but reject any answers that don't fit our preconceived ideas. We believe God loves us but when that divine graceful love is given to us, we turn away, we cover up because the light is too bright. I think Peter would make a great Presbyterian. As Presbyterians we tend to approach our faith by way of the intellect. If we want our faith to grow, we go read another book. Books are safe, we can close them, stop reading if God, working through the author begins to get too close. I will often here God's Word for me through the words of another. Just the other day, I was reading something by Frederick Buechner. He was telling of the time; Let me read it to you, There is nothing wrong with our intellectual approach to faith but it needs to be balanced, in reality our understanding and our faith can't really be complete without an experience of the Holy. In part I think this is the message in today's Gospel reading. Again I say a balance of the intellect and the experience. Had Peter been Pentecostal and Charismatic I'm sure he would have started to dance at the sight of Jesus' transfiguration. He would have been so wrapped up in the experience that he probably would never have left the mountain. Dancing in ecstasy with eyes closed to the world, wrapped up in a personal experience of the Holy. But that isn't right either not complete either. Jesus descends from the high mountain and makes his way to Jerusalem and the crucifixion that awaits him there. Jesus doesn't retreat from the world to seek an exclusively personal relationship with God. No Jesus is very much in the world and invites us to follow him there. So how can we, good intellectual Presbyterians, encounter and experience the Holy? Well, of course we can read about it. There are all kinds of wonderful books written about the he saints and mystics of the faith. And we can read about their experience of the Holy. Not a bad start, but then we would be reading about their experience. Here is another way. On the third Thursday of every month your Worship Team has planned a number of worship experiences different from the Sunday morning worship. Perhaps you might try those n for size and see if they fit. In some cases you will have to step outside the known and your comfort zone. You will need to accept that Jesus calls us to follow at times to unfamiliar places.
page updated 05/24/2007
|
|
518 Pike Place ~ San Antonio, Texas 78209 ~
|
