One of the things that I miss about seminary is the constant re-examination of what I believe. It is easy to get caught up in sermon writing and pastoral duties that take me away from an honest examination of what all any of this means to me anyway... As I was cleaning up my computer desktop I stumbled across my "Statement of Faith" I wrote 5 years ago and thought it would be a good time to look it over and make some changes. Here they are. Suggestions, thoughts, comments... all welcome.
Statement of Faith
In the silence of darkness and chaos God’s life giving breath called creation into being and it is the breath of love that permeates our existence. God’s love flows in and through us, cultivating a hope-filled invitation for us to participate with God in caring for a tragically fallen creation. As we turn away from God to pursue our own ways we chose, circuitously and directly to participate in oppression, suffering, violence and fear. As a community of believers, we have ignored the voices of the marginalized and to live without attention to the ways we are intricately interwoven with one another and with God.
The love God has for us is wonderfully enduring, as prophet after prophet was sent that we might hear the Divine voice calling to us. When we closed our ears and opened our hearts wider to temptation, we cried out from the depths of our brokenness. God’s answer was Jesus of Nazareth, the creative Word of life for all. Promised through the whisper and dreams of the Holy Spirit to Mary and Joseph, he entered the world in humility and under the threat of death. Even before his birth, Jesus was assaulted by persecution and abandonment from the evil and sin he came to heal. Yet his life reveals to us the hope of the Kingdom that surrounds us as he loved sinners, touched outcasts, challenged authority, stood in solidarity with the poor and welcomed the stranger. In his death, Jesus carried the pain of the world into God’s weeping heart. God’s grace and love continued to overcome the darkness of the world as, Jesus broken body emerged from the shadows of deaths tomb. The resurrection embodies God’s eternal promise of healing and healing and wholeness for all creation.
The fulfillment of God’s promise is with us now through the active love and redemption of the untamed and erratic movement of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit assures us, strengthens us, sustains us, and reveals truth in ways our imaginations often cannot conceive. As we faithfully discern God’s truth to us in the Scripture, the Spirit challenges, guides, and teaches us God’s ways for the world.
The church is called to be a visible witness of God’s love in the world. It is called to be one, holy, catholic, and apostolic in its characters and values. We find unity through baptism. Sharing in the Lord’s Supper, we celebrate and are reminded of the promise that God nourishes us spiritually and that we grow in grace (7.096). Gathering at the table and font we are fed with brokenness that can restore us to wholeness and drenched with cleansing waters that fill our parched souls.
The church is holy in fulfilling its covenant relationship with God by doing what is required of it: “to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God” (Mic 6:8). The holiness is neither perfect nor is it pure. Rather, it is the holiness of Jesus Christ who grants the church righteousness because it cannot obtain righteousness on its own.
It is catholic as the church springs up in unlikely places, at unlikely times, and in the universality of Christ’s presences in the world. In this presence, the church bravely embraces the mission and fellowship we enjoy together at the risk of losing its own life to point to a new reality in Christ (G-3.0400).
Finally, the church is apostolic when it is a true witness to the practice the life of the church oriented around its concrete acts working for peace and justice, speaking God’s word, and participating in God’s liberating action.
It is not just one person who responds to the movement of the Holy Spirit to carry out the mission of the church. The whole people of God are called to serve in mission and ministry. We do this by living in fellowship with one another and in obedience to Jesus Christ. Ministry is carried out and undertaken by the love of Christ, as commanded by Christ and lived by every household of faith. Through the community of faith and my understanding of shared ministry, I acknowledge God’s call for my life to ordained ministry affirmed in my baptism. I have a commitment and a responsibility to God and my community of faith to study, teach, worship, preach the Word, celebrate Baptism and the Lord’s Super, engage in prayer, equip others to serve in the church and in the world, care for those who are in need, to seek and do justice in all parts of the world, and in my life demonstrate the imagination, energy, peace, and love of Jesus Christ to all.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Being Open to the Journey: Epiphany Sunday
Before I read the gospel story for this morning, I would like to invite you to think about what you already know about the story of the three wise men.
Let’s start with the basics.
How many are there?
I started off by calling them wise men, any other terms we use to refer to them?
Got a guess where they are from?
Real test, do you know their names?
This is a story that has captured the church’s imagination for centuries.
Now as we listen to story from the book of Mathew, notice what the author tell us about the journey of the wise men.
Matthew 2:1-12 In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, 2 asking, "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage." 3 When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; 4 and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. 5 They told him, "In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet: 6 'And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.'" 7 Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. 8 Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage." 9 When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. 10 When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. 11 On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. 12 And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.
Dressed in ornate robes and crowns, with the camels and gifts bent down in the dust and muck of a barn located in the middle of nowhere town to see the child that prophecies told about and stars shined upon it can be almost impossible to separate fact from fiction.
The author doesn’t tell us exactly where they came from, simply “the East.”
Matthew doesn’t tell us they were kings or magi.
Matthew doesn’t tell us they had names the Balthazar, Gaspar, and Melchior.Those were added centuries later.
I’m sorry to break this to you Matthew actually doesn’t tell us there were three wise men either.
Three gifts, not three wise men, we just assume.
If you are hoping that Mark or Luke fill in the details, sorry. It’s OK to open your Bible’s and check if you want.
I’m kind of ruining for you aren’t I? Taking away all the fun, imaginative parts of this story and left you with what?
Some strange guys, following a light in the sky (which may or may not have been there to begin with) to worship a God in flesh, they didn’t even believe in.
Yeah the wise men weren’t Jewish either. They were pagans, astrologers, magicians, philosophers at best.
I’ve ruined it for you, haven’t I?
Seriously, though we can keep the fun details even if they aren’t in the Bible. It makes the story fun. Let’s make sure we aren’t more concerned with arguing about the “right” ways to tell the story, what the “true” and History Channel fact are, and miss the transforming message of the journey to find the Christ child.
The way in which Matthew shares this story connects us with not only the physical journey from the East to the manger, but a spiritual one, a journey to find the fulfillment of God in our lives.
This seems to be a pretty popular time of year for people set out on spiritual journeys. Folks promise to themselves that they will go to church more, pray more, read the Bible more, do or be something that kick start their movement toward having a stronger relationship with God. Like the wise men, we set out on our own journey to find God.
Think about your spiritual journey. What got you started, or restarted on the road to a relationship with God?
I’d bet not two people in this room have traveled the same road…
Your road might be one of being brought up in the church. Sunday school, worship and youth group every week… the first time you had the chance to stop going. You did. For a very. Long. Time. Then something brought you back.
Your road might be littered with doubt and asking yourself if God even exists.
Your road might be filled with your asking questions, wondering, challenging what any of this Jesus stuff has to do with you and your life…
Your road might be covered with self-help books.
Your road might be a click away as you find community through the internet.
Your road might include interpreting your dreams and believing there is truth in your weekly horoscope.
I’m not sure why, but the church doesn’t always do a great job encouraging people to talk about the roads people have been on in their spiritual journey.
We only hear about the ones of people who grew up in the church, attend every week, read their Bible’s daily, and watch a healthy dose of religious TV. Like this is somehow the only acceptable road to having a relationship with God.
If that is the case the church is in big trouble.
When it comes down to it the church would not exist today if it weren’t for the determination or simple faith of people whose journey may have been a tad unconventional but they still stumbled into the hay surrounding Jesus’ birthing trough. Or as Lily refers to it, the “cow bowl.”
The road the wise men followed was prophesy and astrology.
Not astronomy, which would suggest a more scientific approach. But astrology, because they believed something was going to happen as a result of the positions of the stars.
This is their journey and if it doesn’t fit with the typcial “right way” to have a relationship with God why don’t centuries of religious tradition, doctrine and dogma write out these guys? I mean come on; they only appear in one of the Gospel’s!
Could it be that these seekers from the East, trained in star gazing discover a truth that most of us struggle with?
That our journey to discover Jesus in our life, is various, it don’t often fit the preconceived notion of what a “Christian” should look like, and quite often even runs up against judgments from members of the church (or the church itself) of how we got there.
Why is it that churches find the journeys of some people unacceptable but God says that they are welcome at the manger?
One author notes that “…among the various amateur spiritualists who attend may be some who are better able kneel at the manger than those who have worshiped for a lifetime. Not every committed Christian in name has a taste for actually kneeling in the dust and muck of a barn in a backwater town with astonished recognition that this is where God prefers to make an entrance” (Baumna, Stephen. Feasting On the Word. Year C Volume 1. p214)
Rather than being judgmental of others or trying to hide our own journey to the “cow bowl” that holds God who comes to us in flesh, there is an exciting opportunity for us as the church to share the radically different paths we have been on.
To reflect on how those journeys have made us who we are today.
To be a reminder that, even those who consider themselves to be the most faithful Christians are no better than another. We don’t have a complete corner on the truth, and whether we want to admit it or not are capable of journeying in our own destructive ways.
This story of the wise men, no matter how many there are, what their names might be and from where exactly they traveled from is their journey.
And it is our journey.
Our journey. Revealing our hunger and longing to find our way to the promise found in the manger.
Our journey. Prompted by God, takes us in all sorts of direction and may not match the “acceptable” roads of the culture or church of our time.
Our journey. That redeemed by radical grace of the living God has the power to transforms us as a community to be a place of welcome, honoring the journey of others and encouraging the unique gifts that we bring to honor the new born King.
Let’s start with the basics.
How many are there?
I started off by calling them wise men, any other terms we use to refer to them?
Got a guess where they are from?
Real test, do you know their names?
This is a story that has captured the church’s imagination for centuries.
Now as we listen to story from the book of Mathew, notice what the author tell us about the journey of the wise men.
Matthew 2:1-12 In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, 2 asking, "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage." 3 When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; 4 and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. 5 They told him, "In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet: 6 'And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.'" 7 Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. 8 Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage." 9 When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. 10 When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. 11 On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. 12 And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.
Dressed in ornate robes and crowns, with the camels and gifts bent down in the dust and muck of a barn located in the middle of nowhere town to see the child that prophecies told about and stars shined upon it can be almost impossible to separate fact from fiction.
The author doesn’t tell us exactly where they came from, simply “the East.”
Matthew doesn’t tell us they were kings or magi.
Matthew doesn’t tell us they had names the Balthazar, Gaspar, and Melchior.Those were added centuries later.
I’m sorry to break this to you Matthew actually doesn’t tell us there were three wise men either.
Three gifts, not three wise men, we just assume.
If you are hoping that Mark or Luke fill in the details, sorry. It’s OK to open your Bible’s and check if you want.
I’m kind of ruining for you aren’t I? Taking away all the fun, imaginative parts of this story and left you with what?
Some strange guys, following a light in the sky (which may or may not have been there to begin with) to worship a God in flesh, they didn’t even believe in.
Yeah the wise men weren’t Jewish either. They were pagans, astrologers, magicians, philosophers at best.
I’ve ruined it for you, haven’t I?
Seriously, though we can keep the fun details even if they aren’t in the Bible. It makes the story fun. Let’s make sure we aren’t more concerned with arguing about the “right” ways to tell the story, what the “true” and History Channel fact are, and miss the transforming message of the journey to find the Christ child.
The way in which Matthew shares this story connects us with not only the physical journey from the East to the manger, but a spiritual one, a journey to find the fulfillment of God in our lives.
This seems to be a pretty popular time of year for people set out on spiritual journeys. Folks promise to themselves that they will go to church more, pray more, read the Bible more, do or be something that kick start their movement toward having a stronger relationship with God. Like the wise men, we set out on our own journey to find God.
Think about your spiritual journey. What got you started, or restarted on the road to a relationship with God?
I’d bet not two people in this room have traveled the same road…
Your road might be one of being brought up in the church. Sunday school, worship and youth group every week… the first time you had the chance to stop going. You did. For a very. Long. Time. Then something brought you back.
Your road might be littered with doubt and asking yourself if God even exists.
Your road might be filled with your asking questions, wondering, challenging what any of this Jesus stuff has to do with you and your life…
Your road might be covered with self-help books.
Your road might be a click away as you find community through the internet.
Your road might include interpreting your dreams and believing there is truth in your weekly horoscope.
I’m not sure why, but the church doesn’t always do a great job encouraging people to talk about the roads people have been on in their spiritual journey.
We only hear about the ones of people who grew up in the church, attend every week, read their Bible’s daily, and watch a healthy dose of religious TV. Like this is somehow the only acceptable road to having a relationship with God.
If that is the case the church is in big trouble.
When it comes down to it the church would not exist today if it weren’t for the determination or simple faith of people whose journey may have been a tad unconventional but they still stumbled into the hay surrounding Jesus’ birthing trough. Or as Lily refers to it, the “cow bowl.”
The road the wise men followed was prophesy and astrology.
Not astronomy, which would suggest a more scientific approach. But astrology, because they believed something was going to happen as a result of the positions of the stars.
This is their journey and if it doesn’t fit with the typcial “right way” to have a relationship with God why don’t centuries of religious tradition, doctrine and dogma write out these guys? I mean come on; they only appear in one of the Gospel’s!
Could it be that these seekers from the East, trained in star gazing discover a truth that most of us struggle with?
That our journey to discover Jesus in our life, is various, it don’t often fit the preconceived notion of what a “Christian” should look like, and quite often even runs up against judgments from members of the church (or the church itself) of how we got there.
Why is it that churches find the journeys of some people unacceptable but God says that they are welcome at the manger?
One author notes that “…among the various amateur spiritualists who attend may be some who are better able kneel at the manger than those who have worshiped for a lifetime. Not every committed Christian in name has a taste for actually kneeling in the dust and muck of a barn in a backwater town with astonished recognition that this is where God prefers to make an entrance” (Baumna, Stephen. Feasting On the Word. Year C Volume 1. p214)
Rather than being judgmental of others or trying to hide our own journey to the “cow bowl” that holds God who comes to us in flesh, there is an exciting opportunity for us as the church to share the radically different paths we have been on.
To reflect on how those journeys have made us who we are today.
To be a reminder that, even those who consider themselves to be the most faithful Christians are no better than another. We don’t have a complete corner on the truth, and whether we want to admit it or not are capable of journeying in our own destructive ways.
This story of the wise men, no matter how many there are, what their names might be and from where exactly they traveled from is their journey.
And it is our journey.
Our journey. Revealing our hunger and longing to find our way to the promise found in the manger.
Our journey. Prompted by God, takes us in all sorts of direction and may not match the “acceptable” roads of the culture or church of our time.
Our journey. That redeemed by radical grace of the living God has the power to transforms us as a community to be a place of welcome, honoring the journey of others and encouraging the unique gifts that we bring to honor the new born King.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Changing the Heart of God
It amazes me how quickly my theology can change when I want something to happen. Really, really, really want something happen. God stops being my guide, comforter, and strength and becomes the divine keeper of what I want. I will stop at nothing to plead, beg, and bargain with God.
Is God in control over making something happen? That is this complicated question that doesn't have one answer. But it does when it is something I want to happen. When I want something my thought process and prayer life shift into this place that the reason I am not getting what I want is because God is holding it ransom and my expense. And now God is waiting for me to learn something, find purification through pain (otherwise known as waiting) or realize this isn't something I really want.
There. Now I've said it. Put it out there. My theology becomes this hodge podge of poor insights and shallow reflections on my relationship with God. I'm glad that God is big enough to handle my nonsense and see me through my bargaining. By the way God, don't forget what's on the table today...
Is God in control over making something happen? That is this complicated question that doesn't have one answer. But it does when it is something I want to happen. When I want something my thought process and prayer life shift into this place that the reason I am not getting what I want is because God is holding it ransom and my expense. And now God is waiting for me to learn something, find purification through pain (otherwise known as waiting) or realize this isn't something I really want.
There. Now I've said it. Put it out there. My theology becomes this hodge podge of poor insights and shallow reflections on my relationship with God. I'm glad that God is big enough to handle my nonsense and see me through my bargaining. By the way God, don't forget what's on the table today...
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Is It "The End?" ...let's hope so
Mark 13:1-8 As he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, "Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!" 2 Then Jesus asked him, "Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down." 3 When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him privately, 4 "Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?" 5 Then Jesus began to say to them, "Beware that no one leads you astray. 6 Many will come in my name and say, 'I am he!' and they will lead many astray. 7 When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. 8 For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.
Jay Leno’s new show is getting some mixed reviews. Most say what’s there to like about his new show at 10pm? It’s not any different than the show he had at 11, it’s just on at 10. Exactly why I like it! Now I get to catch his monologues, which sadly also becomes my source for current events.
But anyway… on this past Tuesday night in Leno’s opening monologue he’s talking about how NASA announces that the movie 2012 (came out on Friday) is fiction. Does NASA really need to make such announcements?
Leno asks the same question. For those who haven’t seen the movie yet, it is all about how the Mayan calendar predicts the end of the world is going to happen in 2012 when a mystery planet is going to come careening toward earth and destroy it. NASA wants us all to be confident that he Mayan calendar is wrong. Leno jokes that the only thing that is really going to destroy the planet by 2012 is Countrywide Mortgage, AIG and Wall Street.
While this may be true, Jesus doesn’t mention planets flung off their course or corrupt corporations being part of the end of the world equation.
He talks about the temple. The large stones and large building, while may not sound like much to our modern minds that have seen large stones sculpted into the faces of presidents and large building that reach unfathomable heights… When the temple was constructed by Herod to solidify Herodian rule of Judea it was something to be impressed by. Its construction was a great wonder of ancient architecture. The physical and symbolic presence of the formation was meant look huge, all encompassing, and rooted to both the earth and the people’s understanding of their relationship to God.
That’s not too farfetched thousands of years later. We have tendencies to root our faith and our understanding of our relationship to God in something.
It might be a building, like the temple. A beautifully constructed sanctuary, stained glass windows, and well oiled pews.
It might be a particular worship style. Traditional liturgy, hymns, and none of this waving our arms around in the air stuff some churches do.
It might be a denomination. It’s rich history, traditions and polity. A sense of identity that has long since passed.
We don’t have to think very long about why we have these tendencies. Life being what it is with so much instability and unpredictability it feels pretty good to turn to something that seems to stay the same. Offering us comfort in the midst of chaos.
So what does Jesus think he is doing pulling the rug out from under us? Didn’t he get the message from NASA that this isn’t happening?
We don’t like to hear Jesus words this morning that our churches will be destroyed.
Our comfortable worship styles overturned.
Denominations thrown down.
We don’t like to hear anything about that because it brings an end to the present order.
And we Presbyterians… we’ll you know the saying “We like things decent and in order.” Start shaking up the order and… well that is bad news.
Jesus says that is just the beginning. “The beginning of the birth pangs.”
The end is the beginning of something new.
What if the end of what we find comfortable, is the beginning of a new creation that God has in store?
That still doesn’t necessarily come across as the “good news” of the gospel, does it?
C.S. Lewis says that most Christians are “too easily pleased.” There is this human tendency to instill human institutions and practices with divine permanence, as if God created everything now that it is. That because we are comfortable with it and like how things are, God must too and so there isn’t any need to change it. We say a very polite “no thank you” to God, we don’t need anything new because we like the way it is.
Just because we are comfortable doesn’t mean that God always wants it to be that way.
Just because we are easily pleased, doesn’t mean that God stops working in the world.
Just because we see the end of things as bad news, doesn’t mean that God doesn’t see the end as a new beginning.
And we can choose to offer God our polite “no thank you” and wallow in our fear of the end or step out in faith that God knows what God is doing.
There is a Presbyterian Church on the south side of St. Louis saw itself coming to an end, and could’ve given God the polite “no thank you.”
They were down to about 17 in worship on a Sunday morning and described themselves as being on “life support.” When they stepped outside the doors of their church they no longer recognized their neighborhood. What had been traditionally blue color and white, there was now a large population of refugees.
The church didn’t see itself changing. They didn’t see any “new beginnings” on the horizon.
But God did.
In 2000 the church opened its doors to a Montessori school that needed new space. Of course the session and congregation hoped that the children and their parents would come to church. But they didn’t.
Then one Sunday morning in 2005 everything changed. A woman from Liberia came and worshipped with her two daughters. The children wanted to sing.
When the pastor visited their home near the church, she found them huddling under blankets in a very cold apartment. Because the mother did not have a job she could not turn on her heat. Susan Finley, the pastor at the church said “That was my introduction to life as a refugee in St. Louis.”
Word spread quickly in the Liberian community about the kindness and hospitality of this church. And by July, 15 Liberian families had joined the church. BY forming relationships with these new members of their church family, the congregation became more aware how difficult life was. So the session decided to dedicate $500 a month to a separate ministry fund to help Liberians with any material needs they might have.
$500 is a lot of money for a struggling church who had only 17 people in worship. But what they saw as an end of a church that served a primarily white, blue collar neighborhood was God’s new beginning for a church who partnered with God to grow in servanthood.
Not only with money, but with advocacy services as well for food, shelter, green cards, medicine. Members thought twice about donating an old set of dishes and extra coats to Goodwill or having a rummage sale. Now they went to the new immigrants coming in the church. This wasn’t just about what the church members did for the new members in their church family. As the church grew music became increasingly important and some of the Liberians suggested a keyboard and drums. The sounds of worship were transformed.
The congregation has 68 members now and usually 90 or so people in worship. They still faces an uncertain future as questions arise frequently about whether they will be able to afford full-time pastoral leadership as they meet the challenges of servanthood ministry.
What is perceived as an ending is met by God with a new beginning.
The pastor and congregation envision the possibility that she, and a Liberian man from the congregation who recently graduated from a theological training program for immigrants offered by the denomination, might serve the congregation together as tentmakers, where they each have jobs outside of the church and serve the congregation as well.
It’s such a great story (and you can read the story in its entirety in the October 2009 issue of Presbyterians Today Magazine). The congregation could have continued to root their faith
in their building,
in their history of what the neighborhood and church use to be,
in their traditional practices of worship
in what was comfortable
and completely ignore the new beginning God was offering them.
As individuals, a congregation, denomination and entire Christian faith we are challenged by stories like this. Stories that point to the ways that Jesus teaches us the end is still to come, despite what NASA or anyone else tells you.
As followers of Christ we believe that in the many endings we will face throughout our lives God is always at work. Working to make this world, our church, our lives what God intends them to be. And friends, this is good news indeed.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Givng God the Left Over's
Mark 12:38-44 38 As he taught, he said, "Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, 39 and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! 40 They devour widows' houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation." 41 He sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. 42 A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. 43 Then he called his disciples and said to them, "Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. 44 For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on."
When I was a kid sitting in church this was one of my favorite Bible stories to hear.
When I was a kid I didn’t hear the sermon laced with guilt enticing people to bump up their pledge or pry a few more bucks from the checking account and put it in the offering plate.
Because when I was a kid I heard the children’s sermon.
Most children’s sermons boiled this story down to making the kids feel good about the few coins they put in the offering. And I don’t know about you but those coins weren’t mine to being with, I usually dug them up from the bottom of my mom’s purse. The same place ratty tissues and gum that tasted like perfume came from.
I’ll tell you that the children’s sermons were successful in my life. I always felt good hearing the story and dropping in my (mom’s) quarters on a Sunday morning. I felt like I had something to offer to God and God found value in my giving.
And this is a great place for us to start as children in the church, believing that God celebrates our giving even if we don’t feel like we have a lot to offer… we won’t get into how many churches perpetuate the notion that children don’t have anything to offer the church…
Anyway the challenge is that as we become adults we don’t go beyond this child like understanding of giving which leads to a “good enough” attitude in our giving. That God loves us no matter how much we give, even if what we give is the left over’s from the bottom of our purse or what’s left over from that month of spending.
So whatever I give to the church will be “good enough” for God. Another direction we go with understanding of giving and the church is the guilt. We give because the church, a sermon, however the church is trying to raise money somehow makes us feel guilty about our own abundance and when we do give out of abundance, we are never giving enough.
Am I on to something here? Sounding pretty familiar?
Why is our giving motivated by either guilt or a sense that we don’t really need to think about the leftover’s we give because in God’s eyes it will be “good enough?”
Does this story we read this morning story teach us something more?
It would be an awfully short sermon this morning if it didn’t!
Let’s start with how we understand the notion of what it means to give. There first is the assumption that we have to own before we can give, right? We can’t give away what isn’t ours to begin with. That makes logical sense to our brains… I’m afraid the logic can’t be applied in the same way when it come to God and giving.
From the story of creation to John’s vision in revelation there is a clear understanding that everything is a gift from God. We don’t own ourselves, other people, money, material goods… God does. We are more like managers, or the word that sends shivers down many of church goer’s spines: we are “stewards.” And what we do with the blessings of money, time, talents and other gifts is call “stewardship.” Being a manager or a steward is not the same thing as being an owner. Managers are people who handle the resources on behalf of the owner then act in the interest of the owner.
Money is a tangible way to help us understand all of this. We know how much money there is when we cash our paycheck or social security or for many these days the unemployment check. When we think about how to spend this money we think about how much we are supposed to give to the church. Right? How much do we hand over?
As God’s steward we are way off the mark when we ask that question.
It would be like opening an account with a broker and the person asking, “So how much of this account do you want me to manage? Like whatever I don’t use? That would be OK, right?” No that wouldn’t be OK you trust the broker with you investments and the expectation is that they would manage all of it in with your best interests in mind.
So it is with God.
If we were to imagine ourselves as one of the disciples that Jesus pulled aside in the temple would we even dare to ask him the question: “So Jesus… does this mean you want us to love God all that we are? Our heart, our mind, our soul and not just is what is leftover at the end of the month?”
When we give our “left over’s” to God we do so with the impression we are the owners and we can chose what to give or how much, or not to give at all.
The fact is we aren’t the owners. We are the stewards and it’s not about what we give to God but how do we look at ourselves in relationship to what we give.
How do we look at ourselves? We know how the scribes looked at themselves. They were all about making sure they looked good when they looked at themselves too.
They wanted to look good in their fancy robes.
They want to sound good with their long prayers.
They wanted others to make sure others thought they were good too.
The religious authorities that Jesus is calling to account in this story put themselves at the center of… well everything.
They think that they are God.
They think everything belongs to them.
And if you don’t think it belongs to them, they will make sure to take it away from you. Like the houses of the widow, the poor, the destitute. “Those people” don’t deserve it. They haven’t worked for what they have. They haven’t “pulled themselves up by their boot straps.”
It’s not about what God wants for God’s creation, it’s about how a group of people determine who is worthy and whatever is left over can go to God.
Jesus makes a point to his disciples in this story to show them, and us, that this is about more than just money.
“See those coins.”
They aren’t just coins. Hardly worth the amount they represent, less than a penny really.
Those coins are a faith filled action that recognizes all of who we are and all we hope to become are given to God in its entirety, not just what we have left over.
Jesus shows us how we are the coins.
We give to God all of who we are, all we hope to become because we don’t belong to ourselves to begin with.
We are God’s.
This morning we will hear the words of God’s saving grace that claims us in these waters.
The waters of baptism.
These are the waters where God proclaims a grace given for us.
These are the waters where God claims us as God’s own.
These are the waters where God doesn’t sprinkle on the “left over’s” but gives us God’s whole self in Jesus Christ.
These are also the waters where God calls us forth to respond in faith. Not to just give what we have left over, to give back to God all of what is God’s to begin with.
From these waters we emerge with an intention to live as God’s people.
And we struggle with this each and every day. Because we get so caught up, like the religious authorities of Jesus day with how we look, and act, what other people think of us and that by making showy acts of charity… and we somehow fulfill our Christian commitment.
Jesus is inviting us to see how in this story our giving isn’t so much an act, an amount, a one time or once a week activity. Giving to God the “left over’s” isn’t an option as it denies who we are, whose we are ,and how we are claimed to life as people of faith. God’s people.
In these waters Jesus says to us we aren’t the religious authorities.
We aren’t the widow.
We are the coins.
Our life is a faith filled offering found in all the ways that we live who God created us to be.
When I was a kid sitting in church this was one of my favorite Bible stories to hear.
When I was a kid I didn’t hear the sermon laced with guilt enticing people to bump up their pledge or pry a few more bucks from the checking account and put it in the offering plate.
Because when I was a kid I heard the children’s sermon.
Most children’s sermons boiled this story down to making the kids feel good about the few coins they put in the offering. And I don’t know about you but those coins weren’t mine to being with, I usually dug them up from the bottom of my mom’s purse. The same place ratty tissues and gum that tasted like perfume came from.
I’ll tell you that the children’s sermons were successful in my life. I always felt good hearing the story and dropping in my (mom’s) quarters on a Sunday morning. I felt like I had something to offer to God and God found value in my giving.
And this is a great place for us to start as children in the church, believing that God celebrates our giving even if we don’t feel like we have a lot to offer… we won’t get into how many churches perpetuate the notion that children don’t have anything to offer the church…
Anyway the challenge is that as we become adults we don’t go beyond this child like understanding of giving which leads to a “good enough” attitude in our giving. That God loves us no matter how much we give, even if what we give is the left over’s from the bottom of our purse or what’s left over from that month of spending.
So whatever I give to the church will be “good enough” for God. Another direction we go with understanding of giving and the church is the guilt. We give because the church, a sermon, however the church is trying to raise money somehow makes us feel guilty about our own abundance and when we do give out of abundance, we are never giving enough.
Am I on to something here? Sounding pretty familiar?
Why is our giving motivated by either guilt or a sense that we don’t really need to think about the leftover’s we give because in God’s eyes it will be “good enough?”
Does this story we read this morning story teach us something more?
It would be an awfully short sermon this morning if it didn’t!
Let’s start with how we understand the notion of what it means to give. There first is the assumption that we have to own before we can give, right? We can’t give away what isn’t ours to begin with. That makes logical sense to our brains… I’m afraid the logic can’t be applied in the same way when it come to God and giving.
From the story of creation to John’s vision in revelation there is a clear understanding that everything is a gift from God. We don’t own ourselves, other people, money, material goods… God does. We are more like managers, or the word that sends shivers down many of church goer’s spines: we are “stewards.” And what we do with the blessings of money, time, talents and other gifts is call “stewardship.” Being a manager or a steward is not the same thing as being an owner. Managers are people who handle the resources on behalf of the owner then act in the interest of the owner.
Money is a tangible way to help us understand all of this. We know how much money there is when we cash our paycheck or social security or for many these days the unemployment check. When we think about how to spend this money we think about how much we are supposed to give to the church. Right? How much do we hand over?
As God’s steward we are way off the mark when we ask that question.
It would be like opening an account with a broker and the person asking, “So how much of this account do you want me to manage? Like whatever I don’t use? That would be OK, right?” No that wouldn’t be OK you trust the broker with you investments and the expectation is that they would manage all of it in with your best interests in mind.
So it is with God.
If we were to imagine ourselves as one of the disciples that Jesus pulled aside in the temple would we even dare to ask him the question: “So Jesus… does this mean you want us to love God all that we are? Our heart, our mind, our soul and not just is what is leftover at the end of the month?”
When we give our “left over’s” to God we do so with the impression we are the owners and we can chose what to give or how much, or not to give at all.
The fact is we aren’t the owners. We are the stewards and it’s not about what we give to God but how do we look at ourselves in relationship to what we give.
How do we look at ourselves? We know how the scribes looked at themselves. They were all about making sure they looked good when they looked at themselves too.
They wanted to look good in their fancy robes.
They want to sound good with their long prayers.
They wanted others to make sure others thought they were good too.
The religious authorities that Jesus is calling to account in this story put themselves at the center of… well everything.
They think that they are God.
They think everything belongs to them.
And if you don’t think it belongs to them, they will make sure to take it away from you. Like the houses of the widow, the poor, the destitute. “Those people” don’t deserve it. They haven’t worked for what they have. They haven’t “pulled themselves up by their boot straps.”
It’s not about what God wants for God’s creation, it’s about how a group of people determine who is worthy and whatever is left over can go to God.
Jesus makes a point to his disciples in this story to show them, and us, that this is about more than just money.
“See those coins.”
They aren’t just coins. Hardly worth the amount they represent, less than a penny really.
Those coins are a faith filled action that recognizes all of who we are and all we hope to become are given to God in its entirety, not just what we have left over.
Jesus shows us how we are the coins.
We give to God all of who we are, all we hope to become because we don’t belong to ourselves to begin with.
We are God’s.
This morning we will hear the words of God’s saving grace that claims us in these waters.
The waters of baptism.
These are the waters where God proclaims a grace given for us.
These are the waters where God claims us as God’s own.
These are the waters where God doesn’t sprinkle on the “left over’s” but gives us God’s whole self in Jesus Christ.
These are also the waters where God calls us forth to respond in faith. Not to just give what we have left over, to give back to God all of what is God’s to begin with.
From these waters we emerge with an intention to live as God’s people.
And we struggle with this each and every day. Because we get so caught up, like the religious authorities of Jesus day with how we look, and act, what other people think of us and that by making showy acts of charity… and we somehow fulfill our Christian commitment.
Jesus is inviting us to see how in this story our giving isn’t so much an act, an amount, a one time or once a week activity. Giving to God the “left over’s” isn’t an option as it denies who we are, whose we are ,and how we are claimed to life as people of faith. God’s people.
In these waters Jesus says to us we aren’t the religious authorities.
We aren’t the widow.
We are the coins.
Our life is a faith filled offering found in all the ways that we live who God created us to be.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Reformation Sunday
Mark 10:46 - 11:1 46 They came to Jericho. As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. 47 When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" 48 Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, "Son of David, have mercy on me!" 49 Jesus stood still and said, "Call him here." And they called the blind man, saying to him, "Take heart; get up, he is calling you." 50 So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. 51 Then Jesus said to him, "What do you want me to do for you?" The blind man said to him, "My teacher, let me see again." 52 Jesus said to him, "Go; your faith has made you well." Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.
I can’t hide my church dorkiness. We all know that. So today on the Sunday we celebrate Reformation Sunday I was pressing people to come up with a good mascot for the Presbyterian Church. We’ve got a logo, and books of rules, all that good stuff. But we lack a good mascot. I started asking people for their ideas, with the promise that I would dress as the mascot this Sunday.
The suggestions were well… what you would expect. Dressing as a Scot was the most popular. That I should put on a kilt. Ironically, I don’t own a kilt, even though I grew up Presbyterian and went to Alma College where of course the mascot is a Scot… maybe someday. There was a funny suggestion by someone who said I should be an ice cube, of course referencing our less than appealing reputation as the “frozen chosen.”
The end result of my search for a Presbyterian mascot is (drum role please)… that the matter has now been referred to a task force who will now appoint a special committee to review such matters and report back at a later time.
Seriously though, the church right now can’t agree on who should be allowed to serve as leaders in the church, what it means to be a disciple in the world today, or what the word evangelism means, let alone a mascot. Actually, one suggestion came from a friend of mine that a referee is our mascot to make sure that everyone is fighting fair!
This isn’t anything new for the church. After all the Great Reformation of the 16th century was all about questions of faith and culture in the hearts and minds of people who loved God and the church and wanted to be faithful followers of Christ. People like Martin Luther, John Calvin, John Knox, and Ulrich Zwingli were responding to the ways the medieval church was failing, financial burdens of the church, and the moral laxity of the clergy… starting to sound familiar?
It should. What the church was going through 500 years ago is now being experienced in fairly equivalent ways today. Some minor difference… while we are grasping with technological advances of the electronic age (computers, email, cell phones) then it was the printed word. The printing press had just been invented and information, Bibles, books, pamphlets made information accessible like never before. Martin Luther nailed his Ninety-Five Theses to the church door in Wittenberg and today he might have sent it out via email.
What we are seeing today, as we did 500 years ago is the church going through a major shift in is religious traditions and spiritual insights. We are experiencing these shifts in some major ways: the decline of membership in churches, the lack of importance of the church and religious tradition in daily life, and the gap between generations understanding what it means to be church. All of this coupled with questions about politics, education, and communication.
Our frustrations are tangible and many folks would like them to just magically go away. Looking for some I don’t know… good old fashion healing maybe?
Hey Jesus, can’t you heal us like you did Bartimaeus?
Yeah, we know it’s not that easy. And the gospel story this morning is going to challenge us to go deeper in this story than reading another miracle story.
First have to look at what makes this story different.
Bartimaeus is not the first blind man Jesus heals in the gospel of Mark. In chapter 8, Jesus heals a man blind from birth.
There are others that Jesus heals. There is man on the mat, the hemorrhaging woman, the demoniac and those are just a few examples. So what makes this story different?
We know his name.
Bartimaeus.
“Bar” which in Aramaic means “son of.”
This is the son of Timaeus.
Why the name?
It has been suggested by many notable scholars that naming this man and actually this name in particular “Son of Timaeus” points to a larger meaning of what Jesus is doing.
Jesus isn’t just healing people. The physical act that this man once was blind but now can see sort of thing, but that Jesus is going up against some of the greatest wisdom and insight of his time and turning it upside down.
Everyone here has heard of the great Greek philosopher Plato right? He lived a few hundred years before the time of Jesus. Yet everybody who was anybody in Jesus’ lifetime was reading Plato. His ways of understanding were ingrained into everyday life, not just of educated people but to common people as well. Among his works was one very popular dialogue or play called Timaeus.
This play was performed all over the Mediterranean world for centuries, so it would be very likely that Jesus knew of it, or at least Mark in his writing of this gospel thought he should. In fact there was a Roman amphitheatre in Sepphoris, 4 miles from Nazareth where it might very well have been performed.
For those who aren’t completely up on their Plato, I’ll do my best to boil it down. Plato though that there is an ideal, eternal reality, of which we are merely an imperfect and transitory reflection. Some people are closer to perfection than others. Women, for instance, are pretty far from it, they are recycled men who used to be cowards. Birds are recycled men who were airheads. Closest to perfection are — of course — the philosophers. They “see” in ways that ordinary mortals cannot. Their brilliant insights give them true sight.
In Timaeus, Plato also says that all of us are blind, and only the enlightened philosopher can see. The philosopher is the one who can see this world is fallen, and imperfect. And described in this play is the first written reference to the legend of Atlantis, the perfect city which sank beneath the waves. Atlantis was the perfect world, but it is now lost, never to be found again.
It is a challenge for us to really grasp how depressing this world view is. To believe that there is a sharp separation between those who can “see” or have any kind of relationship with God and those who can’t. There are sharp divides based on gender, class, education and so forth that no matter how much the people who can’t see cry out for real healing in a dark and broken world will never get it. Never. God is unknowable, untouchable, and could not possibly have mercy or become involved in the needs and concerns of the people.
Our gospel story this morning about the son of Timaeus turns that struggle and quest for sight completely upside down. Bartimaeus represents the world view of Plato as those who have no value in society, who would never have a chance to “see” or know anything but their own darkness.
And the crowd around Bartimaeus reinforces how much the world embraces this disregard for those who they perceive as not having value. Hushing the cries, pushing them out of the way, back to the edge of the crowd… of the world where they are lost and forgotten about.
Bartimaeus is struggling through the crowd, struggling through a culturally accepted assumption that he has no value that he has no chance of healing and hope from a God that doesn’t care about him. Bartimaeus knows that his sight will not come from trying to get the crowd to like him, to accept him or by trying to conform to the assumptions of the time by staying home and sitting in his darkness.
For Bartimaeus sight comes from more than just healing.
For Bartimaeus sight comes from following Jesus.
For Bartimaeus sight comes from discipleship.
Sight comes from throwing off our cloaks that symbolizes myth that has kept us all in darkness — the myth that life is measured and valued according to our achievements, our intellect, our philosophy, our money, our moral assumptions—and seeing the road of discipleship.
By throwing off his cloak Bartimaeus throws the powerful myth of the educated people of his time right off on to the ground. That we all can see the real hope Jesus has for our lives when we follow him and it exceeds anything humankind has ever known before.
Like Bartimaeus and the great Reformers, we are poised with our cloaks to ask ourselves what false assumptions are surrounding us that keep us in captivity. What darkens our sight so much we aren’t able to see the road of discipleship with Christ?“Cloaks” of captivity that the Reformers dealt with:
- Doing good works earned you God’s favor
- You could give money to the church and buy your way out of hell
- And the word of God was limited to the educated clergy of the church and was rarely made available in the common language of the people
And today… our “cloaks” that we wrestle with the invitation to life in Christ?
- The boxes of “liberal” “conservative” “justice” and “evangelism”
- Religious institutionalism
- Faith that is reserved for one hour of our Sunday morning and forgotten about the rest of the time
What are we willing to throw down to removed the darkness from our eyes that keep us from seeing what it means to follow Jesus?
Of course Bartimaeus is healed, but that is not what is so amazing about this particular story. Otherwise Bartimaeus would have gone home, lived his life as culturally accepted member of society. Had he done that we wouldn’t no anymore about him than we do the others Jesus miraculously healed.
But we do.
We know his name.
Bartimaeus.
We know his name because he was remembered.
Bartimaeus threw off the cloak of darkness to receive the invitation of new life in Christ. Bartimaeus didn’t go home. He followed Jesus as a disciple from Jericho to Jerusalem. To cross, to the grave, to new life.
As we continue on our journey of Reformation in the church and our lives may we continue to throw down our cloaks again and again remembering to see the invitation to life in Christ is not measured by a box or institution but by our willingness to follow Christ along the way.
I can’t hide my church dorkiness. We all know that. So today on the Sunday we celebrate Reformation Sunday I was pressing people to come up with a good mascot for the Presbyterian Church. We’ve got a logo, and books of rules, all that good stuff. But we lack a good mascot. I started asking people for their ideas, with the promise that I would dress as the mascot this Sunday.
The suggestions were well… what you would expect. Dressing as a Scot was the most popular. That I should put on a kilt. Ironically, I don’t own a kilt, even though I grew up Presbyterian and went to Alma College where of course the mascot is a Scot… maybe someday. There was a funny suggestion by someone who said I should be an ice cube, of course referencing our less than appealing reputation as the “frozen chosen.”
The end result of my search for a Presbyterian mascot is (drum role please)… that the matter has now been referred to a task force who will now appoint a special committee to review such matters and report back at a later time.
Seriously though, the church right now can’t agree on who should be allowed to serve as leaders in the church, what it means to be a disciple in the world today, or what the word evangelism means, let alone a mascot. Actually, one suggestion came from a friend of mine that a referee is our mascot to make sure that everyone is fighting fair!
This isn’t anything new for the church. After all the Great Reformation of the 16th century was all about questions of faith and culture in the hearts and minds of people who loved God and the church and wanted to be faithful followers of Christ. People like Martin Luther, John Calvin, John Knox, and Ulrich Zwingli were responding to the ways the medieval church was failing, financial burdens of the church, and the moral laxity of the clergy… starting to sound familiar?
It should. What the church was going through 500 years ago is now being experienced in fairly equivalent ways today. Some minor difference… while we are grasping with technological advances of the electronic age (computers, email, cell phones) then it was the printed word. The printing press had just been invented and information, Bibles, books, pamphlets made information accessible like never before. Martin Luther nailed his Ninety-Five Theses to the church door in Wittenberg and today he might have sent it out via email.
What we are seeing today, as we did 500 years ago is the church going through a major shift in is religious traditions and spiritual insights. We are experiencing these shifts in some major ways: the decline of membership in churches, the lack of importance of the church and religious tradition in daily life, and the gap between generations understanding what it means to be church. All of this coupled with questions about politics, education, and communication.
Our frustrations are tangible and many folks would like them to just magically go away. Looking for some I don’t know… good old fashion healing maybe?
Hey Jesus, can’t you heal us like you did Bartimaeus?
Yeah, we know it’s not that easy. And the gospel story this morning is going to challenge us to go deeper in this story than reading another miracle story.
First have to look at what makes this story different.
Bartimaeus is not the first blind man Jesus heals in the gospel of Mark. In chapter 8, Jesus heals a man blind from birth.
There are others that Jesus heals. There is man on the mat, the hemorrhaging woman, the demoniac and those are just a few examples. So what makes this story different?
We know his name.
Bartimaeus.
“Bar” which in Aramaic means “son of.”
This is the son of Timaeus.
Why the name?
It has been suggested by many notable scholars that naming this man and actually this name in particular “Son of Timaeus” points to a larger meaning of what Jesus is doing.
Jesus isn’t just healing people. The physical act that this man once was blind but now can see sort of thing, but that Jesus is going up against some of the greatest wisdom and insight of his time and turning it upside down.
Everyone here has heard of the great Greek philosopher Plato right? He lived a few hundred years before the time of Jesus. Yet everybody who was anybody in Jesus’ lifetime was reading Plato. His ways of understanding were ingrained into everyday life, not just of educated people but to common people as well. Among his works was one very popular dialogue or play called Timaeus.
This play was performed all over the Mediterranean world for centuries, so it would be very likely that Jesus knew of it, or at least Mark in his writing of this gospel thought he should. In fact there was a Roman amphitheatre in Sepphoris, 4 miles from Nazareth where it might very well have been performed.
For those who aren’t completely up on their Plato, I’ll do my best to boil it down. Plato though that there is an ideal, eternal reality, of which we are merely an imperfect and transitory reflection. Some people are closer to perfection than others. Women, for instance, are pretty far from it, they are recycled men who used to be cowards. Birds are recycled men who were airheads. Closest to perfection are — of course — the philosophers. They “see” in ways that ordinary mortals cannot. Their brilliant insights give them true sight.
In Timaeus, Plato also says that all of us are blind, and only the enlightened philosopher can see. The philosopher is the one who can see this world is fallen, and imperfect. And described in this play is the first written reference to the legend of Atlantis, the perfect city which sank beneath the waves. Atlantis was the perfect world, but it is now lost, never to be found again.
It is a challenge for us to really grasp how depressing this world view is. To believe that there is a sharp separation between those who can “see” or have any kind of relationship with God and those who can’t. There are sharp divides based on gender, class, education and so forth that no matter how much the people who can’t see cry out for real healing in a dark and broken world will never get it. Never. God is unknowable, untouchable, and could not possibly have mercy or become involved in the needs and concerns of the people.
Our gospel story this morning about the son of Timaeus turns that struggle and quest for sight completely upside down. Bartimaeus represents the world view of Plato as those who have no value in society, who would never have a chance to “see” or know anything but their own darkness.
And the crowd around Bartimaeus reinforces how much the world embraces this disregard for those who they perceive as not having value. Hushing the cries, pushing them out of the way, back to the edge of the crowd… of the world where they are lost and forgotten about.
Bartimaeus is struggling through the crowd, struggling through a culturally accepted assumption that he has no value that he has no chance of healing and hope from a God that doesn’t care about him. Bartimaeus knows that his sight will not come from trying to get the crowd to like him, to accept him or by trying to conform to the assumptions of the time by staying home and sitting in his darkness.
For Bartimaeus sight comes from more than just healing.
For Bartimaeus sight comes from following Jesus.
For Bartimaeus sight comes from discipleship.
Sight comes from throwing off our cloaks that symbolizes myth that has kept us all in darkness — the myth that life is measured and valued according to our achievements, our intellect, our philosophy, our money, our moral assumptions—and seeing the road of discipleship.
By throwing off his cloak Bartimaeus throws the powerful myth of the educated people of his time right off on to the ground. That we all can see the real hope Jesus has for our lives when we follow him and it exceeds anything humankind has ever known before.
Like Bartimaeus and the great Reformers, we are poised with our cloaks to ask ourselves what false assumptions are surrounding us that keep us in captivity. What darkens our sight so much we aren’t able to see the road of discipleship with Christ?“Cloaks” of captivity that the Reformers dealt with:
- Doing good works earned you God’s favor
- You could give money to the church and buy your way out of hell
- And the word of God was limited to the educated clergy of the church and was rarely made available in the common language of the people
And today… our “cloaks” that we wrestle with the invitation to life in Christ?
- The boxes of “liberal” “conservative” “justice” and “evangelism”
- Religious institutionalism
- Faith that is reserved for one hour of our Sunday morning and forgotten about the rest of the time
What are we willing to throw down to removed the darkness from our eyes that keep us from seeing what it means to follow Jesus?
Of course Bartimaeus is healed, but that is not what is so amazing about this particular story. Otherwise Bartimaeus would have gone home, lived his life as culturally accepted member of society. Had he done that we wouldn’t no anymore about him than we do the others Jesus miraculously healed.
But we do.
We know his name.
Bartimaeus.
We know his name because he was remembered.
Bartimaeus threw off the cloak of darkness to receive the invitation of new life in Christ. Bartimaeus didn’t go home. He followed Jesus as a disciple from Jericho to Jerusalem. To cross, to the grave, to new life.
As we continue on our journey of Reformation in the church and our lives may we continue to throw down our cloaks again and again remembering to see the invitation to life in Christ is not measured by a box or institution but by our willingness to follow Christ along the way.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Sermon from International Day of Peace Sunday
The congregation where I serve as pastor recently celebrated the International Day of Peace (Sept. 21st) in our Sunday worship the day before. A few asked that I share this sermon and the incredible story of the crosses made from bullet casings.
I would like to invite you on a journey this morning.
We will begin on the mountain of the Lord, trek to the western coast of Africa and find ourselves back home. You won’t need your passport, but imagination is a must.
Imagination is what the prophet Isaiah demands of the people in his prophetic and poetic words of peace we heard this morning. They have to use their imaginations to envision a world where “nation does not lift up sword against nation, nor do they learn war anymore.”
Most of us have trouble reading the Old Testament because of how much violence is contained in the pages of Israel’s history. It would be impossible to remove these details from these ancient stories as war was almost a daily part of ancient Israelite life, primarily because of that nation’s size and location.
Here was a nation no larger than the state of Vermont located in the strategic Syria- Palestinian corridor—and all the surrounding nations coveted it. Egypt in the south and various Mesopotamian empires in the north-northeast saw that territory as a buffer zone to protect themselves from encroaching armies bent on conquest and pillage. The Old Testament scholar Norman Gottwald observes the Israelites’ preoccupation with war “imparts a vigor to the biblical records but also often casts about them an aura of somber realism and a sense of the fragility of human life.”
It is difficult for Americans to fathom what it must have been like for citizens of this tiny country to live with the prospect of large, invading armies camped out on their doorstep on a regular, unrelenting basis. Consider that Bethel, an important city to ancient Israel, was destroyed four times in the two-hundred year period from the time of the Judges to the establishment of the Davidic monarchy. For comparison, consider the city of Philadelphia being destroyed four times since the Declaration of Independence. America’s “dean of biblical archaeology,” W. F. Albright, noted over half a century ago that under these conditions “one can hardly be surprised…[that] Israel became martially minded.”
The impact of the words we heard this morning from the prophet Isaiah would have taken an incredible amount of imagination from the original audience to picture this painting of perfect peace, that place where instruments of death are turned into implements for life, for harvesting the fields, and where nations don’t even have to study war anymore.
And, the vision of Isaiah doesn’t just fill one corner of the globe. Isaiah describes a day when many people will come to the house of God, when many nations will come to live in the ways of justice and peace.
So we leave our journey with the people in Judah and Jerusalem, perched and God’s holy mountain and make our way to another place.
I need everyone to close their eyes for this part of our journey and open your hands. I will be walking around the sanctuary and placing something in each of your hands. Hold on to the item and please keep your eyes closed…
(PLACE CROSS IN HANDS OF EARCH PERSON)
With your eyes still closed. Tell me what you feel in your hands.
Can anyone tell what the shape of the item is?
A cross. The symbol of our faith that means hope and new life in Jesus Christ.
Now open your eyes and look at what these crosses are made from.
Bullet casings.
From swords to plowshares.
From instruments of death to the hope of new life.
Walking down the holy mountain of the Lord we move forward in time and across the world to Liberia, a country on the west coast of Africa that is about the size of Virginia but roughly the population of Connecticut.
Through most of the 1980’s and 1990’s this country suffered the devastating effects of civil war that left more than a quarter million people dead, thousands homeless and the landscape littered with bullet casings and other reminders of the hopelessness violence caused.
Then a small group of 50 people gathered these bullet casings and took simple tools: a hammer, chisel, pliers, hacksaw, and file to make these crosses.
In 2003 the Presbyterian Church (USA) through the Peacemaking Program, partnered with the group of Liberians making these crosses to market them in the United States. The project provides income to help children attend school; homeless families find dwellings, and sick people receive medical attention.
The bullet casing that is in your hand at this moment touched the hand of another whose intention was to kill another human being.
The cross that is in your hand at this moment touched the hand of another whose plan was to transform that death to hope.
Now it is in your hands.
In your hands.
The words from Isaiah this morning call us to open our imaginations, our eyes, our hands, and our hearts to the dream of peace in this world.
Peace in the Middle East. Peace in African countries like Liberia. Peace here in our own communities.
Peace can happen.
It is in our hands to make that happen.
Yet we feel disconnected from the dream of God’s peace portrayed throughout scripture and the news we see everyday day on TV, read about on-line, or perhaps experience for ourselves.
It reminded me a TV commercial that I’ve seen at Christmas time which I am afraid portrays all too accurately how quickly we push away the possibility of peace.
The ad flashed on the screen a dreamy vision of a sparkling new bicycle; and a child's voice off camera is heard, "Oh, I hope I get a bicycle for Christmas. I hope to get a bicycle for Christmas-and peace on earth, of course-but I hope I get a bicycle for Christmas." Captured in the commercial, of course, is every child's legitimate yearning for a bicycle. Surely we all remember. Only remember also, though the voice from the screen is a child's voice, the commercial was created by and for adults..."and peace on earth of course...but I really hope...."
Even here in our safe community, where we don’t worry about bombs falling near us or gunshots spraying in our neighborhood, we cannot imagine what a world would be like if swords were beaten into plowshares, where bullets were crafted into crosses, where our hands could join together with communities all over this globe and participate in God’s dream for peace in the world. Our attention is too quickly grasped by the new bicycle, or car, or electronic gadget of some sort and peace slips through our finger tips as just another lofty dream of political party or social service organization that we won’t have any part of.
Politics and clubs aren’t going to teach us about God’s dream of peace for the world, God is. Through prayer, worship, Bible study and spiritual disciplines we can equip ourselves and our community to share the gospel message of peace to the world.
We can learn how to become peacemakers in our own families and communities to confront all forms of violence not just the kinds you can see, but the violence we perpetuate through our attitudes, words, and assumptions.
Liberia and the Middle East may seem very far away, but we can support peace efforts across the globe by learning more the lives of people, the struggles they face, and how we might be able to respond through partnerships with presbytery, the denomination, other faith groups, or service agencies.
Tomorrow is the day recognized by the United Nations as the International Day of Peace. And you can join millions across the world by pausing at noon for one minute to say a prayer for peace.
From swords to plowshares.
From instruments of death to the hope of new life.
From prayer to new life.
God’s vision for peace is in our hands.
Isaiah 2:1-5
The word that Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem. 2 In days to come the mountain of the LORD's house shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be raised above the hills; all the nations shall stream to it. 3 Many peoples shall come and say, "Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths." For out of Zion shall go forth instruction, and the word of the LORD from Jerusalem. 4 He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. 5 O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the LORD!
The word that Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem. 2 In days to come the mountain of the LORD's house shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be raised above the hills; all the nations shall stream to it. 3 Many peoples shall come and say, "Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths." For out of Zion shall go forth instruction, and the word of the LORD from Jerusalem. 4 He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. 5 O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the LORD!
I would like to invite you on a journey this morning.
We will begin on the mountain of the Lord, trek to the western coast of Africa and find ourselves back home. You won’t need your passport, but imagination is a must.
Imagination is what the prophet Isaiah demands of the people in his prophetic and poetic words of peace we heard this morning. They have to use their imaginations to envision a world where “nation does not lift up sword against nation, nor do they learn war anymore.”
Most of us have trouble reading the Old Testament because of how much violence is contained in the pages of Israel’s history. It would be impossible to remove these details from these ancient stories as war was almost a daily part of ancient Israelite life, primarily because of that nation’s size and location.
Here was a nation no larger than the state of Vermont located in the strategic Syria- Palestinian corridor—and all the surrounding nations coveted it. Egypt in the south and various Mesopotamian empires in the north-northeast saw that territory as a buffer zone to protect themselves from encroaching armies bent on conquest and pillage. The Old Testament scholar Norman Gottwald observes the Israelites’ preoccupation with war “imparts a vigor to the biblical records but also often casts about them an aura of somber realism and a sense of the fragility of human life.”
It is difficult for Americans to fathom what it must have been like for citizens of this tiny country to live with the prospect of large, invading armies camped out on their doorstep on a regular, unrelenting basis. Consider that Bethel, an important city to ancient Israel, was destroyed four times in the two-hundred year period from the time of the Judges to the establishment of the Davidic monarchy. For comparison, consider the city of Philadelphia being destroyed four times since the Declaration of Independence. America’s “dean of biblical archaeology,” W. F. Albright, noted over half a century ago that under these conditions “one can hardly be surprised…[that] Israel became martially minded.”
The impact of the words we heard this morning from the prophet Isaiah would have taken an incredible amount of imagination from the original audience to picture this painting of perfect peace, that place where instruments of death are turned into implements for life, for harvesting the fields, and where nations don’t even have to study war anymore.
And, the vision of Isaiah doesn’t just fill one corner of the globe. Isaiah describes a day when many people will come to the house of God, when many nations will come to live in the ways of justice and peace.
So we leave our journey with the people in Judah and Jerusalem, perched and God’s holy mountain and make our way to another place.
I need everyone to close their eyes for this part of our journey and open your hands. I will be walking around the sanctuary and placing something in each of your hands. Hold on to the item and please keep your eyes closed…
(PLACE CROSS IN HANDS OF EARCH PERSON)
With your eyes still closed. Tell me what you feel in your hands.
Can anyone tell what the shape of the item is?
A cross. The symbol of our faith that means hope and new life in Jesus Christ.
Now open your eyes and look at what these crosses are made from.
Bullet casings.
From swords to plowshares.
From instruments of death to the hope of new life.
Walking down the holy mountain of the Lord we move forward in time and across the world to Liberia, a country on the west coast of Africa that is about the size of Virginia but roughly the population of Connecticut.
Through most of the 1980’s and 1990’s this country suffered the devastating effects of civil war that left more than a quarter million people dead, thousands homeless and the landscape littered with bullet casings and other reminders of the hopelessness violence caused.
Then a small group of 50 people gathered these bullet casings and took simple tools: a hammer, chisel, pliers, hacksaw, and file to make these crosses.
In 2003 the Presbyterian Church (USA) through the Peacemaking Program, partnered with the group of Liberians making these crosses to market them in the United States. The project provides income to help children attend school; homeless families find dwellings, and sick people receive medical attention.
The bullet casing that is in your hand at this moment touched the hand of another whose intention was to kill another human being.
The cross that is in your hand at this moment touched the hand of another whose plan was to transform that death to hope.
Now it is in your hands.
In your hands.
The words from Isaiah this morning call us to open our imaginations, our eyes, our hands, and our hearts to the dream of peace in this world.
Peace in the Middle East. Peace in African countries like Liberia. Peace here in our own communities.
Peace can happen.
It is in our hands to make that happen.
Yet we feel disconnected from the dream of God’s peace portrayed throughout scripture and the news we see everyday day on TV, read about on-line, or perhaps experience for ourselves.
It reminded me a TV commercial that I’ve seen at Christmas time which I am afraid portrays all too accurately how quickly we push away the possibility of peace.
The ad flashed on the screen a dreamy vision of a sparkling new bicycle; and a child's voice off camera is heard, "Oh, I hope I get a bicycle for Christmas. I hope to get a bicycle for Christmas-and peace on earth, of course-but I hope I get a bicycle for Christmas." Captured in the commercial, of course, is every child's legitimate yearning for a bicycle. Surely we all remember. Only remember also, though the voice from the screen is a child's voice, the commercial was created by and for adults..."and peace on earth of course...but I really hope...."
Even here in our safe community, where we don’t worry about bombs falling near us or gunshots spraying in our neighborhood, we cannot imagine what a world would be like if swords were beaten into plowshares, where bullets were crafted into crosses, where our hands could join together with communities all over this globe and participate in God’s dream for peace in the world. Our attention is too quickly grasped by the new bicycle, or car, or electronic gadget of some sort and peace slips through our finger tips as just another lofty dream of political party or social service organization that we won’t have any part of.
Politics and clubs aren’t going to teach us about God’s dream of peace for the world, God is. Through prayer, worship, Bible study and spiritual disciplines we can equip ourselves and our community to share the gospel message of peace to the world.
We can learn how to become peacemakers in our own families and communities to confront all forms of violence not just the kinds you can see, but the violence we perpetuate through our attitudes, words, and assumptions.
Liberia and the Middle East may seem very far away, but we can support peace efforts across the globe by learning more the lives of people, the struggles they face, and how we might be able to respond through partnerships with presbytery, the denomination, other faith groups, or service agencies.
Tomorrow is the day recognized by the United Nations as the International Day of Peace. And you can join millions across the world by pausing at noon for one minute to say a prayer for peace.
From swords to plowshares.
From instruments of death to the hope of new life.
From prayer to new life.
God’s vision for peace is in our hands.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
