Nehemiah: Help Us Rebuild

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Text: Nehemiah 1:1-6b

The Book of Nehemiah is set during the reign of the Persian Empire and after the Babylonian exile. The people of Judah were in exile for 70 years as of their officials and leaders were been taken from the land. There had been a time when Israel was united and powerful and growing. But there had also been a time of conflict as their kingdom divided in two. The northern kingdom, Israel, fell in 740 to the Assyrians… the tribes scattered to the winds.

The oldest among the exiles remember what it was like before the Babylonians took over Judah. They remember what it was like before Jerusalem fell. They remember but they often wonder…  Will things ever go back to the way they were? Will we ever go home? Will we ever return to our former glory? Is this our new normal?

That is a question that I’ve heard sometimes in the walls of this church.  The pandemic has been a difficult time… of change, of loss, of frustration and conflict. In some ways, it has felt like an exile and there were moments we wondered if it would ever end. We find ourselves in a place kind of like the people of Judah did… maybe at the end of something, but unsure of what is coming next. And when we think about getting back to what was… well, some parts of this world seem to have shifted back to how we remember… stadiums for sporting events are full, for example.

But other things have changed and might never be the same. We might never truly “go back.” We shop more online, our workplaces have changed, we spend a more time in our own households instead of out socializing. Some of those changes we celebrate as we think about how it has created accessibility and better balance in our lives. But we should also think about how these shifts have impacted us in negative ways. What are the ways that our world has broken down?  What are the things that need to be repaired and restored?

When the Persian Empire, led by Cyrus, defeats Babylon, there is a shift in the policy of the oppressors. Those leaders who had been taken by force from Judah are allowed to return home.  The Persians are still in charge, but there is a greater degree of freedom and governance. There is a group of folks led by Zerubbabel who head back to rebuild the temple. Then another wave of folks return with Ezra and introduce some religious reforms.

The book of Nehemiah starts around 445 BC… nearly 100 years after those groups first start to go back.  So realistically, this is about 150 years after Jerusalem fell.  Nehemiah is serving as the cupbearer to the Persian king Artaxerxes… which means, he has the King’s ear. And he gets word from his brother, who has just returned from Judah about how things are going there.

The news isn’t great.  Those who survived exile and those who returned were struggling.  Jerusalem was still in shambles.  For nearly 100 years, people have been able to start rebuilding, but progress just wasn’t being made.  The community was falling apart and when Nehemiah heard this, he wept.

Which led me to think about Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.  Developed in the 1940s by Abraham Maslow, this pyramid describes different needs that drive our behavior in the world. At the very bottom level, we all have bodily, or physiological needs for things like shelter, food, and clothing. Basic needs, we call them. The next level up are our needs related to safety.  We all need stability, structure, freedom from fear… which can come from laws or work or property. 

And the truth is, unless these fundamental needs are cared for in a person’s life – they simply cannot think about worrying about any of the needs farther up the list. In the same way, when you no longer can care for needs higher up the pyramid, it begins to impact the needs below it. A person who is starving is not focused on their reputation. A person who has no employment or safety begins to struggle to provide for food or shelter. Someone living in fear cannot work towards self-fulfillment. Someone who lacks a place to sleep is not spending their day working to build friendships.  For 150 years, the people of Judah were simply trying to survive. 

Over these last couple of years, so much of our lives have been refocused on some of the fundamental needs in our lives. We cut back only to what was essential. We focused on our health and embraced masking to keep ourselves and others safe. We adapted practices to make sure we could purchase basic needs online. Schools and businesses put up plexiglass and changed their air filtration systems. Everything in our lives has been focused on those bottom two levels of the pyramid.

Friends, we, too, have been in survival mode.  And we needed to be in survival mode. We did what we could to keep our heads above the water and that was all we had the energy and capacity to do.  And that is okay. The ways we adapted to better care for ourselves was a good and holy thing.

So, what does all of this have to do with community? Well, you can move both ways up and down this pyramid.  We are discovering that a lack of social connections can also have a great impact on our health.  You see, we also have a need to belong.  Dr. Richard Slatcher at the University of Georgia writes, “we humans are engineered by evolution to crave contact with other humans.” Studies have shown significant connections between loneliness and mortality and morbidity.  And yet, these needs related to love and belonging are higher up the pyramid.  Connection.  Friendship.  Respect.  Growing in Faith.  We aren’t able to really focus on them unless we can first care for our physiological and safety needs. 

Nehemiah turns to prayer and fasting and hears a call to respond. He confesses all of the ways that he and his people have turned their backs on God and asks God to listen to his prayers. He believes in the promises God made… that God will gather up the scattered people and put them back together. 

And the thing he believes will be the start of this action is to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem. That is the nudge in his heart. That is his calling.  And I think part of why this is so important is that because it is only when the people can live in safety… only when they are protected… that they can start to think about other needs – like their need for connection and community. 

Yes, he embarks on a building project… but the goal is ultimately to rebuild the people of Israel. It is about the restoration of God’s people. It is about a return to the faith.  It is about remembering who they were and getting back to what it means to care for one another. 

Friends, we don’t have a physical building project before us today… but I do think that we have some rebuilding to do as a community. The world we find ourselves in is increasingly disconnected from one another. Students are less engaged in our schools. Our social circles have become smaller. “The Great Resignation” isn’t just about the workplace… we are seeing less people showing up to volunteer and give of their time to one another and their communities.  We are more isolated than ever.

And as I have been praying about where to start and what to do, one of the things I keep hearing is that we need to start right where we are. We need to strengthen our relationships with each other. We need to work to better care for one another. We need to take the time to pray together, to talk with one another, to listen and to share… And so, we challenge you to step up, join us as we study Nehemiah, and help us rebuild our community. 

But friends, there is one more essential component. When I first turned to the Book of Nehemiah, I was sure that I had found a perfect resource for this task. After all, the whole focus is about how Nehemiah brings all these people together to accomplish a great project, refocuses their faith, and everyone rejoices! But as I kept reading more of the details of this story, the more complicated it got.

The Book of Nehemiah starts with a man in tears… but it also ends with Nehemiah in tears. In the end, they build the wall, but he isn’t really successful at transforming the people.  And that’s because Nehemiah is missing something that we aren’t… The love and grace of Jesus Christ that transforms our heart and the power of the Holy Spirit that truly can change this world.   

As we will sing at the end of our service today:

Come set Your rule and reign in our hearts again

Increase in us, we pray, and unveil why we’re made.

Come set our hearts ablaze with hope, like wildfire in our very souls.

Holy Spirit, come invade us now.

We are your church. We need your power in us. 

May it be so. Amen.

Graves into Gardens

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Text: Luke 24:1-12

Earlier this week, I was preparing for worship and listening to some of the music selected for our time of worship today.

And, friends, I’m going to be honest, I’m struggling a bit right now. 

I’ve got some family stuff that is heavy on my heart.

We’ve got some things to navigate as a church trying to increase our staffing and find our footing in the new normal of the world.

There is a big denominational conversation in limbo. 

I have been participating in a church leadership cohort on the topic of how to navigate being overwhelmed and one of the things I realized is that if I were trying to work and care for just one of those situations, it would be a lot. 

But when it feels like there are just so many pots on the stove, all needing attention lest they boil over… well, it is exhausting. 

And you know what, I know I’m not alone.

I’ve overheard those fragments of conversation happening in the halls of the church, or grocery store, or work or school…

We can all read between the lines of those social media posts that try to be cheery.

We are navigating transition and grief in our families… divorce, loss, moving mom to the care center…

We are experiencing struggles with health and finances.  

We watch the evening news and our hearts break. 

We keep waiting for things to get back to “normal” because we haven’t wrapped our heads around the way things have changed for good.

After a while, it all starts to add up. 

And we start to wonder where on earth God is in it all. 

And so there I was, trying to figure out what good news to proclaim this Easter Sunday, when a lyric from one of the songs that we are singing at the Conspire Service just hit me like a ton of bricks and I started to weep.

“The God of the mountain

Is the God of the valley

There’s not a place

Your mercy and grace

Won’t find me again.”

In that valley, in that muck, in the struggle… that is where God is.

God isn’t just a God of the good times and the successes. 

God is with us in the valley.

The valley of the shadow of death.

The valley of despair.

The rock bottom where it all feels like it has fallen apart.

That is exactly where grace and mercy find us. 

It is where it found the disciples on Easter morning.

You see, this day began in hopelessness and grief.

It began with fear of the unknown.

It began with the gloom of death. 

As we heard in the Gospel of Luke, Mary and Joanna, and Mary, and the other unnamed but faithful women who were with them went to the tomb.

They were bringing the spices and oils they had prepared to complete his burial ritual now that the Sabbath day was complete. 

They showed up to repeat a familiar ritual practiced by Jewish women for centuries. 

Everything they had known and believed had been pulled out from underneath them and there was nothing left to do but pray, mourn, and honor their teacher.

But through that valley of the shadow of death, grace found them.

When they arrived, the stone was rolled back from the tomb and the body of their Lord was gone. 

I can imagine the shock and confusion that paralyzed them.

What does it mean?

What has happened?

What do we do now?

But then angels suddenly appeared among them: Why are you looking for the living among the dead? 

They spoke once again the words Jesus had shared with them.

Promises of love that conquers death.

Words of hope for a life than cannot be defeated.

The truth that mourning would turn to dancing…

Shame into glory…

Graves would turn into gardens…

And in a moment of startling fear and overwhelming joy – a moment of holy awe – they remembered. 

Think about how many times the disciples… men and women alike… heard Jesus share words about his death and resurrection.

But they couldn’t understand the promise because they never believed it would happen.

They simply could not wrap their minds around the idea of his death, much less the impossible miracle of resurrection.

When Jesus shared his final meal with them on Thursday night they let him down and failed to remain faithful.

And when Christ was crucified on Friday afternoon, many were paralyzed by their unbelief and others simply stood at the cross in stunned grief.   

They couldn’t see past their own pain and fear and they forgot his promise!

But in one moment, all that Jesus said about life and death is suddenly made real to those women as they encountered that empty grave in the middle of a garden.

They rushed back to the disciples to share all they had experienced. 

And they didn’t believe the women. 

Couldn’t believe them.

It was nonsense, wishful thinking, confused thought. 

You know what, the world around us, just like those disciples in the upper room who first heard from Mary and Joanna and Mary Magdelene, believes that the resurrection is nonsense. 

It is wishful thinking.  Scientifically unproven.  Pie in the sky. 

And I have to be honest, there are days that I have my own doubts. 

I have an awful lot of questions, and maybe you do, too.

I can’t construct an argument for the resurrection of Jesus that makes sense to a rational mind.

I can’t point to evidence of its reality.

And when I’m down in the valley, stuck in the weeds, wallowing in grief, and holding the pain of the world in my heart, I often wonder where on earth it is. 

But I can tell you, as I borrow the words of Debie Thomas, that it is “the foundation of my hope.”

“Without the empty tomb,” she goes on to write, “without Jesus’ historic, bodily return to life two thousand years ago, I simply can’t reconcile God’s love and justice with the horrors I see in the world around me.  Death is too appalling a violation.  Evil is too ferocious an enemy.  Injustice is too cruel and endemic a reality.  Humanity, though beautiful, is broken beyond description. I need the empty tomb. I need the promise of resurrection.” 

There is so much in this world to feel hopeless and frustrated about, and honestly, I can’t get through it without God by my side. 

I can’t prove the resurrection.

But I need it to be true. 

I need to know that mourning will turn into dancing.

I need to hope that shame will turn into glory.

I need to trust that graves can become gardens. 

Standing here, surrounded by lilies, I have come to discover that the God of the mountain is the God of the valley and that the shadows of fear and despair have been scattered by light and love. 

The tomb is empty, the garden is in bloom, the Son has risen. 

Grace and mercy are pouring out into the world and I find the freedom and the power to believe.

I have faith that the resurrection is really and truly our reality. 

Faith is not just a pie in the sky wish. 

It isn’t something pretty we sing to bring comfort.

Faith is a verb: Go. See. Do. Lift Up. Put Down. Heal. Cast out. Bring in. Give. Receive.  Remember.

Faith is active.

Faith is out there in the world, sharing the healing love of God with others.

Faith is drying the tears of the grieving.

Faith is holding the hands of the sick.

Faith is that card of encouragement for the person whose life is falling apart.

Faith is planting bulbs as everything is dying, trusting they will bloom in the spring.

Faith is welcoming the stranger and throwing our arms open to embrace others.   

Faith is sacrificing our time and our talents and our abundance so that our neighbors might be fed. 

You see, the force of resurrection didn’t just bring Christ to life.

It transformed disciples into apostles.  

It brought the church into being.

It formed us together into the body of Christ, alive in the world, hands and feet and hearts to carry on the mission and the ministry. 

To keep planting the seeds of the kingdom.

To keep pouring out hope for a world in despair.

To keep fighting the weeds of injustice that threaten to take over.

We are here because those women went to the grave full of grief and sorrow and discovered a garden where hope and love and life was in full bloom.

And then they went from that place with faith and shared the good news with the world.

May the hope of the resurrection be the foundation of our faith and may it spill over into everything we say and do in this world.  Amen.

UMC 101: A Doctrinal History of Difference and Charity

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Text: Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10

The books of Ezra and Nehemiah tell the story of the first wave of exiles who return to Jerusalem to rebuild the temple and the walls of the city.

But just as important as rebuilding was rediscovering who they were as a people. 

In our passage from today, Ezra reads aloud to all of those gathered the words of the Torah.

It becomes obviously very quickly in our lesson today that the people didn’t know what it contained. 

Generations of Judeans had experienced exile after the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem by the Babylonians. 

They had been removed from their homes and their lives were upended. 

In many ways, they forgot who they were and the God who had saved them.

As Ezra reads from sun-up until noon, the Levites help to interpret and make sense of what is being read and the people weep with emotion because they now understand God’s word.

But this isn’t simply a recitation of laws.

It is the history of their people.

It is the story of creation and the stubborn, sinful nature of humanity.

It is a story of redemption and rescue. 

It is a story of how God never gave up on the people and faithfully kept the covenant.

And while in some ways, the people are grieved by what they have lost and forsaken, the leaders see this as an opportunity for celebration because we have rediscovered a path forward.   

And so, the people rededicate themselves to some basic practices that would help them remember who they were and be faithful to God’s instruction in their lives. 

Right now, the United Methodist Church is having a sort of identity crisis.

There are folks who would describe themselves as more traditional who want to recapture what they believe it means to be faithful to God’s instruction in their lives. 

In their own discernment, they are grieved by what they believe has been lost or forsaken, but are turning it into an opportunity to discover a new path forward.

And as such, the Wesleyan Covenant Association is preparing to form a new denomination that will allow them to do so: The Global Methodist Church.   

I believe that one way or another, this new denomination will form in 2022 and there will be a split in our denomination. 

From conversations that we have had previously in this congregation, I believe that most of the folks here would not characterize themselves as part of the movement to leave.   

You might be more progressive in your thought, or maybe you value being part of a community where many perspectives are welcome.

But there is a lingering question that keeps coming up…

Where will that leave the United Methodist Church? 

I believe it is just as important for those of us who remain to remember who we have been to discover where we might be going. 

What is the story of our people… and how does it make us weep and grieve, and how can it be an opportunity for our future? 

When we began United Methodist 101 a couple of weeks ago, we talked about what we hold in common with other Christians, but also how our emphasis on faith and love put into practice meant we emphasize certain beliefs – like grace and service and community accountability.

As the Book of Discipline puts it:
“The pioneers in the traditions that flowed together into the United Methodist Church understood themselves as standing in the central stream of Christian spirituality and doctrine, loyal heirs of the authentic Christian tradition… grounded in the biblical message of God’s self-giving love revealed in Jesus Christ.”

p. 56

And yet, like a stream that ebbs and flows, the doctrinal history section of our Book of Discipline paints the picture of a church has never been rigid or unyielding.

There is a core “marrow” of beliefs, but beyond these “essentials,” there is room for difference.

Or as Wesley put it, “As to all opinions which do not strike at the root of Christianity, we think and let think.” (p. 56).

We have the freedom and ability to both hold on to the core of Christian beliefs and to think and reason and disagree with one another in love about everything else. 

I think this is a vital and important thing to remember as we make our way forward in this hyper-partisan and divided world. 

In his 1750 sermon, “Catholic Spirit,” Wesley lays out what it means to be charitable in our thoughts. 

Quoting from 2 Kings: 10:15, he lays out what it means to be one in heart… to be right in heart.

It isn’t about sharing the same opinions, or even sharing the same worship practices.

No, Wesley lays out what he believes are the essentials:

First, he wants to know if your heart is right with God. 

Do you believe in God and believe in Jesus, and is your faith and belief “filled with the energy of love?” (John Wesley’s Sermons, p. 304) 

In this limited time that we have on earth, are you trying to do God’s will.. more afraid of displeasing the one we love, than of death or hell?

Second, is your heart right with your neighbor? 

Do you have love for others, full of goodwill and tender affection? 

Not just the folks who love you, but even your enemies…  “Do your bowels yearn over them?” Wesley asks… which is kind of like staying, do you spend your time worrying about them – praying blessings over even those who would curse you? 

And do you live out that love in actions?  Do you take care of the wants of their bodies and souls?

If so, take my hand.  

Let’s show love to one another… the kind of love described in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, full of patience and humility. 

Let’s pray for one another that the love of God and neighbor would grow in our hearts.

And let’s join together in the work of God in the world. 

As the Methodist movement grew in Great Britain, sermons like this, along with the Thirty-Nine Articles of the Church of England and Wesley’s commentary on the New Testament, became the standards for teaching.

We also taught our theology through a rich history of hymns and practices of community like the General Rules we talked about last week. 

And each year, the preachers were called together at a conference where Wesley would instruct and supervise their work. 

These were the boundaries of our doctrine. 

And then, these standards were shared in an American context. 

The Methodist movement grew up alongside the American Revolution and when England lost and the Church of England left the colonies, American Methodists were left without churches or leadership. 

Reluctantly, John Wesley realized the necessity of an independent church and provided a basic liturgy, doctrinal statement, hymnbook, and General Rules. 

At the Christmas Conference of 1784, the Methodist Episcopal Church was formed with the Articles of Religion as its only core doctrine. 

But there was an interesting shift that happened.  Unlike Anglicans, who were required to subscribe to the Articles, Americans simply were instructed to keep their teaching to within those boundaries. 

Or as the Book of Discipline puts it: “The doctrinal emphases of these statements were carried forward by the weight of tradition rather than the force of law.” (p. 60)

Truth be told, we launched out into the frontiers of the continent and placed much more focus on that “practical divinity” that launched the Methodist movement… evangelism and nurture and mission… instead of worrying about formal doctrines.

The same was true for the formation of the Evangelical Association and United Brethren traditions.  Spreading the good news and calling believers into a life of witness and service was more important than theological speculation. 

Philip Otterbein and Martin Boehm came from German Reformed and Mennonite traditions respectively, but the leaders of these traditions discovered that although they had differences, they were brethren…

Jacob Albright who began the Evangelical Association, was a German Lutheran who was formed in a Methodist class meeting.

These distinctive theological traditions all rally around the core essentials of the faith… our love of God and neighbor put into practice in the world.

“If your heart is with my heart, give me your hand” 

shows four bars representing Methodism, German Reformed / Mennonite, Lutheran, and Free Church traditions that flow into the UMC

In this graphic by Rev. Jeremy Smith, we get a glimpse of those different streams of theology and tradition that flow into the United Methodist Church today.

Naming the richness and diversity of the church, our Book of Discipline also reminds us that “Currents of theology have developed out of the Black people’s struggle for freedom, the movement for the full equality of women in church and society, and the quest for liberation and for indigenous forms of Christian existence in churches around the world.” (p. 61)

All of that means that as we have become a global denomination…

As we open our arms to folks of different theological traditions…

As we allow language, culture, and lived experiences to encounter our traditions…

Then, rather than become more rigid or uniform, our church expands its ability to keep discerning the most faithful way to live out the gospel in real life, in this community, today.   

Next week, we will talk about some of the tools we have at our disposal as United Methodists for that work. 

But we do so without sacrificing the core of what we believe.

All along the way, we have continued to include in our doctrinal standards the Articles of Religion from the Methodist Church, the Confession of Faith of the EUB Church, the standard sermons of Wesley and his Explanatory Notes on the New Testament, and the General Rules of the Methodist Church.

And we protect this core in our constitution, which declares that these may not be revoked, altered, or changed.

What I have come to understand, however, is that while we might all cling to that same “marrow” of essential beliefs, there is much that we will disagree on.

John Wesley gives us this advice: “In essentials, unity; in non-essentials, liberty; and in all things, charity (or love).” 

Earlier I asked the question:

What is the story of our people… how does it make us weep and grieve, and how can it be an opportunity for our future? 

I must admit that my heart weeps and grieves right now for two reasons.

First, when I remember and rediscover this rich history of theological difference, I have a hard time coming to terms with why my siblings in the United Methodist Church might want to leave and separate from me around a theological difference that isn’t at the core of those beliefs.  Why can we not stay united around our essentials?

But I also am grieved by the idea that our continued holding together has caused immense harm to our LGBTQ+ siblings, because we have not in fact created space for freedom.  In fact, at our General Conference in 2019, we made our positions around human sexuality more rigid and punitive. 

We are stuck in a system that has winners and losers based on the outcome of a vote. 

Our denomination is currently echoing the partisan divide of the nation and the hostility, misinformation, and bad feelings that it engenders.

This week, I stumbled upon a hymn written by Charles Wesley that seems written for this moment.  Echoing the same message as his brother’s sermon, “Catholic Spirit”, “Catholic Love” call us to return to the core of love of God and love of neighbor.

WEARY of all this wordy strife,
  These notions, forms, and modes, and names,
To Thee, the Way, the Truth, the Life,
  Whose love my simple heart inflames,
Divinely taught, at last I fly,        5
With Thee, and Thine to live, and die.
 
Forth from the midst of Babel brought,
  Parties and sects I cast behind;
Enlarged my heart, and free my thought,
  Where’er the latent truth I find,        10
The latent truth with joy to own,
And bow to Jesu’s name alone.

Friends, in the midst of a world and a denomination full of division, what might it mean for us to embrace the charity and love that the Wesley’s called us to embody in all things.

Instead of focusing on partisanship and fighting for our own way, maybe we need to simply focus on love.

Maybe we can show one another a love full of patience and humility.

Maybe we can pray for one another that the love of God and neighbor would continue growing in our hearts.

And maybe, even if we practice in different ways and move in separate directions, we can still find ways to join together in the work of God in the world. 

May it be so.

YES! We Are Able!

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Text: Deuteronomy 8:11-18 and Mark 10:23-31

Last week, Pastor Lee from Women at the Well shared with us part of the story of the rich, young, ruler in Mark’s gospel.
This morning, we hear the second half of that story… the response of the disciples… our response… to the invitation Jesus offers this faithful follower.

Will you pray with me?

Over these last few weeks, we have been hanging out with the gospel of Mark and the challenging ways that Jesus calls us to follow.
Are we able to take up our cross and drink the cup of suffering?
Are we able to stand up for our selves or others?
Are we able to embrace difference and let others lead?
Are we able to see the vulnerable around us, especially children, and to see their gifts along with their needs?
Are we able to hear the truth about that one darned thing in our lives that keeps us from saying, “YES” with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength?

And after walking with Jesus through these chapters, I’m not surprised if we, like the disciples find ourselves frustrated when he tells us, “Children, it’s difficult to enter God’s kingdom!”
Whatever happened to, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light?”
Where are the promises that we will led beside the still waters and into green pastures?
Like James and John and Matthew and Andrew we cry out – “Then who on earth can be saved, Jesus?”

Because as must as we try, we find it awfully difficult to sacrifice our own well-being for the sake of others.
Fear keeps us from standing up for others or for ourselves.
Our need for control and stability gets in the way of our willingness to embrace and celebrate the differences among us.
We worry about what will happen if we let the kids run amok in our midst.
We are comfortable… oh so comfortable… with that one blasted thing that keeps us from standing in the life-giving stream of God’s love and grace and power.

Who can be saved?
Who is able?
Can anyone among us truly say, “YES?”

And then Jesus looks at us carefully. The Greek word here, emblepo, indicates that he is looking searchingly… clearly… directly into our very hearts….

“With human beings it’s impossible.”
We can’t do it.
There is nothing we can do or give or accomplish that will earn us a spot in God’s kingdom.
We are not able.

And that’s why the second half of Jesus’ words are so important:
“but… All things are possible with God.”

You see, our ability to be saved, our ability to enter God’s kingdom, our ability to follow Jesus, our ability to provide for ourselves or our families… none of it comes from us.
Nothing we are and nothing we have is the result of our own effort or striving or accomplishment.
It is all because of God.

As the early Hebrew community was told as they were being led out of Egypt, we need to remember, we need to never forget that it was God who rescued us from Egypt.
It was God who led us through the desert.
It was God who made water flow out of rock and sent mana from heaven.
It was God that led some people from Burns UMC out to a farmhouse on 49th Street to start a new faith community.
It was God that helped us lay the cornerstone for a new church to meet a growing worshipping congregation in 1968.
It was God that gave us the ability to build and pay for Faith Hall a decade ago.
It was God that has formed the faith of generations of children… who in turn have brought their children and grandchildren back to this place.
It was God that gave us the very breath of life and it is God that gives us the ability to work and to serve and to love and to follow.

Moses tells those Israelites in the desert – when you look around at your houses and your tables set full of food and when everything around you is thriving, don’t you dare think that it was your own strength or ability that accomplished these things.
Remember your God.
God is the one who has given us strength.
God is the one who has made us able.
God is the one who calls us… and then God equips us to answer, to follow, to say YES.

You know… I look out at the world on a week like this when evil and hatred and violence seem to be winning and I almost want to give up.
I don’t think I have the ability to stand in the gap.
I don’t have the energy to keep speaking out for the way of love and hope.
I don’t know how to change the hearts of others.

Do you ever feel that way?

But then, I come to worship.
I come to this place.
I hear these words of scripture.
I see your faces.
I sing with all of my heart these songs.

And I remember that it’s not all up to me.
It’s not my ability or skills or talents that will change this world.
But God can.
And God will.
If I just open up my life a little bit to let God use me.
If I set my fear and hesitation and need for control to the side and let God work through me.
If I place these gifts in God’s hands…
If I turn to others gathered here…
If we start with the things God has already given us the ability to do…
If we allow ourselves to be pulled, stretched, called…
If we count all of the blessings God has poured out into our life and if we just let go and trust…
God is able.
And God makes us able.

Able to give back.
Able to reach out in love.
Able to shine light in darkness.
Able to offer hope in the midst of despair.
Yes, Lord, We are Able…
And it is all because of You.
Thanks be to God… Amen.

Claiming Our Inheritance

When I came home from our United Methodist General Conference in May, I shared with you these words:

Over these last two weeks, we very nearly split our denomination into pieces.  Our differences are stark. Our life together is marred by conflict as much as collaboration.  And I’m going to be honest… I’m not quite sure yet what comes after General Conference.

I went on talk about why that was:  how the source of dilemma lies in being a global church, in the way we make decisions, and the reality that we can’t agree on some fundamental basics of what it means to be church together, like what we mean by covenant or how we interpret scriptures.

 

This month, our bishops have not only announced the members of a special commission who will help us find a way forward, but they have also announced their intent to call a special session of General Conference in 2019… one year earlier than we would typically meet.  The purpose will be to allow this commission to do their work and then the delegates of our last general conference will gather back together solely for the purpose of discussing and voting on their recommendations.  Many imagine that if we cannot agree to a way to hold our differences in creative tension that our church will split at that time. 

 

For the last few months, there has been a tension in my shoulders that I can’t quite shake. 

I’m worried.

I’m worried for my country.

I’m worried for the United Methodist Church.

I’m worried for this church.

 

And the root of that worry is less about who wins on Tuesday or what kind of church we will be on the other side of 2019 or how many people stayed home from worship last weekend…

I worry about how we treat one another and whether or not we see the person sitting across from us as a person of inherent worth and dignity… and that we seem unable to set aside our thoughts and opinions for long enough to actually listen to the truth of another person.

I think the antidote to the worry we collectively are bearing might be found in our scripture this morning.  

 

One of the radical messages of Ephesians that is lost to modern readers of the scriptures is the fact that Paul reaches out and give thanks for people who are outside of his faith.

Historically, the early church experienced great tensions between Jewish and Gentile followers of Christ.  They had different backgrounds, different traditions and practices, and yet all claimed to have accepted the good news of God.  There was infighting and arguments about who had to give up what part of their heritage in order to be part of the community.

And so when Paul, a Jewish scholar and leader of the church, writes to this Gentile community at Ephesus, it is remarkable that one of the first things he does is emphasize unity.

We have obtained an inheritance”, Paul writes.

And then he goes a step farther… “I do not cease to give thanks for you as I remember you in my prayers.”

Paul specifically reaches out to people who are very different from him… people he has never even met before… and tells them that he is grateful for them.

This letter to the Ephesians is fundamentally about unity. 

That is our glorious inheritance.

Unity with God in Jesus Christ.

Unity with the saints who have gone before us.

And unity with one another in this present moment. 

And as Paul teaches us in these first few verses that you can’t have unity without gratitude. 

 

As we light candles to remember the saints, we are reminded that through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, we remain connected and unified with all of those saints who have gone before us… and with all who will come after us. 

As we break bread, we sing and feast with the saints.  This meal is an act of unity. This meal and the hope it instills in our souls is our inheritance. 

And as we remember, we give thanks for eight people from our congregation who died this past year:  for Lois.  Becky.  Viola.  Ruth.  Gary.  Mildred.  Sharon.  Marcia.   Thank you, God.   

But we also give thanks for the many people, friends and family, who have gone before us. 

We give thanks for all of the saints who shaped our lives. 

And we give thanks for the multitudes of saints and the historic church that is our foundation.  When it feels like the weight of the world is upon our shoulders and that the church will live or die based upon our decisions, it is good to remember that God’s church has been around for two thousand years.  It is built upon the prophets and the apostles.  The church is far bigger than this congregation or even this denomination.  And for that I give thanks…

And I also pray that we might claim this inheritance and that somehow we might be part of passing along this faith to generations yet to come. 

 

Sarah Birmingham Drummond reminds us that the unity we experience is not only across time and generations, but also for this present moment. “Paul’s message of unity was radical in its day, as it suggest unity across divisions that were woven into the fabric of daily life.  This suggests that the early church understood overcoming divisions to be part of its mandate.”

Let me repeat that. 

The early church understood overcoming divisions to be part of its mandate.

After all, Paul was reaching out to people he didn’t have a whole lot in common with to give thanks.   His letter reminded not only them, but also himself, of the unity of Christ that brings all of us together. 

That is our inheritance, too.

 

Today, we will break bread not only with the saints, but also with people who will vote differently than us on Tuesday. 

We worship every Sunday morning with people of different ages. 

We worship with people who prefer different types of music. 

We worship with early risers and people who long to sleep in on Sundays.

Yet overcoming division is part of our mandate as people of faith.

Being a people who overcome difference in order to be in community… that is our inheritance. 

That is the faith that has been passed down from generation to generation.

 

No matter what happens on Tuesday. 

No matter what happens in 2019 with our denomination.

No matter what tension we feel as a result of our worship times or classes or studies.

Our responsibility is to look around this room and to give thanks for each soul and get busy making a difference in this world.

That is the inheritance we can claim, right here and right now. 

 

And we do so… we claim the inheritance of Jesus Christ across generations and across divisions because we believe that God’s mission is built upon a church united to transform this world. 

Because we believe that God needs all of us… past, present, and future, to bring healing and hope to a broken people. 

Because our differences are small when compared to the call God has upon our lives to claim our inheritance. 

Because we believe in the immeasurable greatness of God’s power to truly make a difference… right here and right now.