The End of the World as we Know it.

Format Image

Text: Revelation 1:4-8

“It’s the end of the world as we know it… .

It’s the end of the world as we know it…

It’s the end of the world as we know it…

And I feel fine.”

More than fine, actually.

I feel hope.

I feel promise.

I am clinging to the love of God that is bursting forth alive in this world! 

Christ is risen!

He is risen indeed!

As we journey together through this season of Easter, we are going to wade into the elusive and strange revelation shared by John of Patmos. 

United Methodist pastor and theologian, Magrey DeVega writes that this book can be used “as a guide to experiencing the resurrected life.  John’s vision allows us to see the world, the church, and the Christian life in the way God envisions it: not for how it is, but for how it can be.”  (A Preacher’s Guide to Lectionary Sermon Series, Vol. 2, p. 197).

The world as we know it, well, it is kind of a mess. 

As we lifted up in prayer already this morning, it is a world filled with hunger, violence, oppression, death, disease, and inequality. 

I can’t help but think of the opening of the seven seals in Revelation chapter 6, where four horsemen are unleashed with authority “to kill by sword, famine, disease, and the wild animals of the earth.” (6:8)

Persecution and natural disaster are close at hand (6:9-17). 

We may not know where to start interpreting or unpacking the verses of these texts, but we don’t have to look far to see the realities they present in moments of crises all around us. 

And you see… that is the thing about apocalyptic literature.

It is an unveiling of what is already there. 

The Greek word apokaluptein literally means to uncover.

It means to pull back the curtains and let the light in.

It is not necessarily a prediction of the future.

The prophets of our Old and New Testaments spoke God’s truth and power into their time and place as they point to God’s intentions and will for our lives.   

It is also a word from the one who is… and who was… and who is coming…

In that sense, they do point towards the future and the kind of actions and behaviors God is calling us to embody as we are formed into God’s people, made into a kingdom, set apart to serve. 

The prophets tell us the truth about the world as it is and beckon us to leave it behind…

No, not just that… they promise us that God is in the business of transforming the world as we know it into a new reality, a new creation, a new life centered on God. 

Sounds like an Easter kind of story to me. 

So why all the strange images and numbers and blood and violence?

What are we supposed to do with all of the weird stuff that we find within the Book of Revelation? 

I must confess that our series on Sunday mornings is not going to dive into all of the nitty gritty of every verse and metaphor and vision. 

We will skip large sections of this book.

And part of the reason for that is that it would probably take us a couple of years to really take the time in worship to do this right. 

But the other reason is that we don’t need all of the details about what this beast looks like or what is in the fourth bowl or what happens when the fourth trumpet sounds to understand the main point of the text.

As the authors of “Crazy Talk” describe it:  “No matter how bad it gets, Christ has already emerged victorious and because you are joined in the body of Christ, you will emerge victorious as well.” (Crazy Talk: A Not-So-Stuffy Dictionary of Biblical Terms)

What I can do are give you some tools to help think about and interpret the things that we will encounter as we read this text. 

The first tool that I want to give us is a key to decipher the meaning of the weird stuff that we find. 

I want you to think of it like a political cartoon.

In newspapers today, you’ll find images of donkeys and elephants and those of us living in the United States today can understand that it is not about animals, but about people and positions.

Take for example this political cartoon from World War II. 

It isn’t a literal depiction of a baby fighting a three headed giant… but depicts the U.S. as newly entering the war against the Axis powers, using the tools of our allies.   We are familiar enough with the images and dates that we can interpret the meaning. 

But if we were looking at a political cartoon from 100 years ago… or from Nigeria or New Zealand… we might have a harder time deciphering the meaning. 

Philip Long writes that when we look at texts like Revelation, “we need to cross two different boundaries.  We need to study the imagery in the proper time and in the proper culture… put it in the right era…. [and] know the cultural cues implied by the art.” (https://readingacts.com/2012/04/05/revelation-and-apocalyptic-imagery/

Knowing that the book of Revelation is from the late first century, written on a Greek island in a time where Christians were persecuted by the Roman Empire, we can start to unpack and interpret some of the vivid and dramatic imagery that we find.   

Numbers, for example, have meaning.

The number seven represents completion or totality… the sum of all of the heavens (3) and earth (4)… like the seven days of creation

Twelve represents God’s people… three times four… like the twelve tribes of Israel or the twelve apostles.

We can start to see the beasts as the empire of Rome and its allies and the throne is about where power ultimately resides. 

The second tool I want to give you is an orientation in time. 

I brought with me this morning a commentary on the book of Revelation that lays out at least four different ways that you can approach this text and then provides at least four different interpretations of a verse based on which approach you are taking. 

How many of us here have read “The Late Great Planet Earth” or the “Left Behind” series? 

Those authors and some preachers that you might have heard on the t.v. or radio, have a future orientation to the Book of Revelation.  They believe that it predicts things that will happen, but haven’t yet. 

Or maybe that are happening as we speak. 

But just as I wouldn’t take that political cartoon from WWII and use the metaphorical imagery to speak of future events, I don’t think this is the orientation we should take towards Revelation.

It might sell, but I’m not sure that it is truly faithful to the text.

And neither do the leading people who study the Book of Revelation. 

In his book “Making Sense of the Bible”, Adam Hamilton writes:  

“I’ve got ten commentaries on Revelation in my library, written by some of the foremost scholars to study this book, and every one of them holds some combination of the preterist and idealist perspectives. This is in stark contrast to the views of most television evangelists and many conservative preachers, who favor the futurist view. Most mainline scholars see the book as describing events of the author’s day.” (p.285). 

Now, he just threw some big words at us, but the “spiritual” or “idealist” view thinks that the book is timeless… that it uses metaphor to talk about how good and evil constantly battle in this world with the promise that God will ultimately win. 

The “preterist” view is oriented towards our past and John of Patmos’s present.

John isn’t reading tea leaves or telling the future, he is describing events that are happening as he is writing and speaking about how God is present in the midst of it. 

Many scholars hold those two in tension. 

They look back to what was happening in the time of John of Patmos… apocalyptic literature after all is about revealing what is there… but believe we can apply the themes of the text to the struggle between God and the powers of the world we experience and remembering that God will ultimately prevail.

This orientation is probably the most helpful to us today as we try to figure out what to do with this strange writing.     

Finally, I want to remind you to keep the main thing the main thing.    

The text we began with this morning from Revelation is a sort of overview or introduction to the themes that we will discover within the book. 

John of Patmos has received a word, a revelation, from Jesus Christ the slaughtered and risen Lamb and is sharing it with the world. 

The message is simple:  Jesus is coming and he will sit on the throne and the world and all its powers will not.  

Our work is to allow God to make us into a kingdom, to serve as priests, and give God praise. 

That’s it. 

Those are the basics of this entire book and it is the lens we can use to make sense of every verse we read. 

The locusts and plagues and persecution… the worst things will never be the last thing. 

And we have a choice about whether we will serve God and worship God or if we will choose to throw our lot in with the powers of this world that bring nothing but disaster and death. 

And friends, we know the end of the story! 

We know how it turns out! 

God wins!

Friends, this is a book of hope and love and life!

These aren’t meant to be texts of terror or designed to confuse or scare us. 

As Nadia Bolz-Weber writes,

“originally… apocalyptic literature —the kind that was popular around the time of Jesus—existed not to scare the bejeezus out of children so they would be good boys and girls, but to proclaim a big, hope-filled idea: that dominant powers are not ultimate powers. Empires fall.   Tyrants fade.   Systems die. God is still around.” 

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/acts-of-faith/wp/2018/03/14/were-in-the-midst-of-an-apocalypse-and-thats-a-good-thing/

The world as we know it… with all its trials and tribulations…  is coming to an end, and we are fine.

More than that…  we have hope because it is all in God’s hands.

The Lord’s Prayer: Thine is the Kingdom

Format Image

Text: 1 Chronicles 29:1, 5b-6, 9-13; Luke 19:28-40

In our confirmation lessons this month, we are exploring the vows that these young folks will make on May 15.

They will stand before this church and pledge to renounce the spiritual forces of wickedness, reject the evil powers of this world and repent of their sin.

They will accept the freedom and power God gives them to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves.

They will confess Jesus Christ as their Lord and promise to serve him in the church which Christ has opened to people of all ages, nations, and races. 

And I can’t help but realize that they will be standing here, proclaiming:

For Thine is the Kingdom…

For Thine is the Power…

For Thine is the Glory… forever and ever. 

Today, we wrap up our exploration of the prayer that Jesus taught us. 

It is so familiar to us, and yet there is still so much to learn and discover about these few simple words. 

And one of the surprising things about the phrase of the prayer we are focusing on for today is that it is not included in the gospels of either Matthew or Luke. 

If you were to pull out your Bible, and looked at Matthew, it would, however, likely include the phrase in brackets or italics or even a footnote. 

And that is because other ancient sources did include this ending… most notably The Didache… and it was then included in some copies and translations of Matthew as time went on. 

Didache literally means teaching and this document is the oldest existing catechism of the Christian faith.

Basically, it is like a confirmation lesson guide for the first Christians! 

It teaches Christian ethics, and about the rituals of the church and how the church is organized.

And it includes the version of the Lord’s Prayer… with the ending… that we are all so familiar with today. 

In fact, it instructs those in the faith to pray this prayer three times every day… just as we have invited you to practice during this Lenten season. 

In the chapter for this week from our study book, Adam Hamilton notes that the language of this ending, this doxology, this praise for God, is inspired by our scripture from 1 Chronicles for today which recounts the words of King David. 

“Blessed are you, O Lord, the God of our ancestor Israel, forever and ever. Yours, O Lord, are the greatness, the power, the glory, the victory, and the majesty; for all that is in the heavens and on the earth is yours; yours is the kingdom, O Lord, and you are exalted as head above all. Riches and honor come from you, and you rule over all. In your hand are power and might; and it is in your hand to make great and to give strength to all. And now, our God, we give thanks to you and praise your glorious name.”

Yours is the power.

Yours is the glory.

Yours is the kingdom. 

Forever and ever. 

Our scripture lesson for this morning is actually a sort of altar call or a request for the people of the land to give freely of their own resources to help build the temple of God. 

David himself wanted to build this home for God’s presence, but because of his own sin, God replied that it would have to be carried out by David’s son, Solomon.

I think often of the fact that David, this man after God’s own heart, made such terrible mistakes in his life. 

He harmed people who were in his care.

And there was probably a bit of pride that tempted him to make up for it by dedicating this temple to the glory of God… a temple that might come with his own name attached to it. 

But he let go of his own power and wealth and pride and glory. 

He remembers that this is not about him, but about God and David puts his full energy into setting his son up for success in this task. 

David begins to gather the materials that will be needed and makes an offering from his own resources and treasures.  Then, he invites the leaders among the people to give from their own hearts and treasures as well. 

Wealth and riches and raw materials and precious gems are all laid before the Lord.   

For as David rightly proclaims, it all comes from you God… we have only given you what already belongs to you. 

Which is the same message Paul shares with the Romans, “For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever. Amen.” (11:36)

Paul goes on to write to the church:

So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don’t become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You’ll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what [God] wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you. (Romans 12: 1-2, MSG)

Take your everyday, ordinary life and place it before God as an offering.

All of which is another way of saying:

Thine, not mine, is Kingdom.

Thine, not mine, is the power.

Thine, not mine, is the glory. 

I’m going to offer what I have up to you, O God, because it all already belongs to you anyways. 

I surrender to your will.

I will love and care for those people you put in my path.

I will confess the places I’ve strayed and turn my attention back to you so that you can forgive me.

I will let you lead me and guide me, rather than the forces of the world around me.

You will be my focus today and tomorrow and as long as I breathe. 

Today is not just the end of our series on the Lord’s Prayer, but the start of Holy Week. 

On this Palm Sunday, we recall the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. 

And I can’t help but think about the disciples and the crowds who gathered to line the streets.

They recognized in Jesus the power and the glory of God.

They were ready and willing to offer up their lives and their resources to follow Jesus and to work for God’s kingdom. 

They set aside their own safety and privilege and power in order to praise and worship God. 

And all of this because they caught a glimpse of what it truly meant to allow God to take hold of their lives. 

John Vest reflects upon the power of this moment and I want to close today by sharing some of his words:  

“Jesus’ ride into Jerusalem was more than a show, more than a simple provocation, more than the beginning of a cute celebration.

It was a signal that things are changing, an unmistakably potent message to the powers that be that the world as we know it is becoming the world as it should be.

It was a radical act of defiance directed against those in his day who wielded power through violence, oppression, and tyranny…

This simple ride reminds us – and tells the whole world – that you are indeed coming to make all things new. 

You are coming to release those who find themselves in all manners of bondage: chains of injustice… addiction… conformity and apathy.

You are coming to provide for the poor: food for the hungry and shelter for the homeless.

You are coming to assure the dignity and equality of all who are marginalized or oppressed.

You are coming to end violence and divisions, to provide safe communities and opportunities for education.

You are coming to offer healing and wholeness, comfort, consolation, and hope.

You are coming to transform all that we know.

You are coming to save us.”  (https://re-worship.blogspot.com/search?q=palm+sunday+meditation)

God’s kingdom…

God’s power…

God’s glory…

It is all breaking into this world.

May we, like those first disciples… and like those faithful leaders… set aside our crowns and pledge allegiance to the only one who can truly save us. 

May it be so. Amen.

The Lord’s Prayer: Our Holy Father

Format Image

Text: Luke 11:1-10

This year as we journey through Lent, we are being led by prayer.

Well, one prayer in particular.

The prayer that Jesus taught us.

We teach it to our children.

We recite it each week in worship.

It is often a prayer that I will recite with families at the bedside of a dying loved one.

We know it by heart…

But has it sunk into our hearts?

I once heard a story about a church and every Sunday when the said the Lord’s Prayer, they turned around and faced the back of the sanctuary.

When a new pastor arrived, she was curious about this practice, but no one could remember why they did it that way.

That is until the church did some restoration work in the sanctuary.

As they stripped back layers of paint on the old walls, they discovered that at one time, the words of the Lord’s Prayer had been painted along that back wall.

In a time without printed bulletins, the church members had turned around to read the prayer from the wall.

Just as that congregation forgot why they said the Lord’s Prayer facing the back wall, sometimes we have forgotten the meaning behind the words that we speak.

We take the words for granted or rush through them without thinking.

Yet, contained within these beautiful verses is everything we need to know about our faith.

It reminds us of whose we are.

It tells us that we are not alone, but a community.

This prayer invites us to place our lives in God’s hands.  

It asks for forgiveness and the strength to forgive others.

It calls us to acts of justice and compassion. 

It is a prayer that can truly transform our lives… if we let it. 

So, throughout this season of Lent, we are going to dive deep into this prayer and learn once again what it has to teach us. 

Richard Foster once wrote:

“Real prayer comes not from gritting our teeth but from falling in love.” (Prayer: Finding the Heart’s True Home, p.3)

And that is because prayer is a relationship.

The Lord’s Prayer is recorded in the gospels of both Matthew and Luke. 

In Matthew, it is included along with other teachings in the Sermon on the Mount.

But in Luke’s gospel, the disciples are seeking guidance. 

As they seek to grow in their faithfulness to God, they ask Jesus how they should pray… and he teaches them. 

But then Jesus expands upon this idea of prayer being a relationship.   

When we pray, we are asking and seeking and requesting things from the one who created us.

Now, this idea that God as our parent is not new.

Throughout the Hebrew Scriptures, the prophets tell us that God thinks of Israel as a child… often a wayward child… but that God’s love is everlasting and unchanging, in spite of what the people might do. 

Yet this prayer is not simply a metaphor.

God is not distant.

Rather at Christ’s own invitation, we join in calling God “Our Father.”

We are invited to approach God in the same way we might our own parent… knowing and trusting that we are loved and cared for and believing that God will respond out of that love.

There is a level of intimacy here, of deep relationship, of ordinary acts of care, that truly is like falling in love. 

And at the same time, we are invited into a sort of paradox, for the name and presence of God is to be revered as extraordinary.

God is holy… and wholly other. 

I am reminded of Exodus chapter 3, when Moses approaches the burning bush and hears a voice thunder around him… “Come no closer!  Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” 

Moses hides his face, afraid to look upon the divine presence. 

In the midst of this exchange, God claims the people of Israel as his own.

God has heard their cries and can stand by no longer. 

Like a parent who will rush to the rescue of a child who has fallen, God is acting to bring about deliverance for their suffering.

And yet, when Moses asks the name of this God…

When Moses asks, whom shall I say has sent me? 

God replies – I am who I am.   

A God who is distant, powerful, holy, undefineable…

A God who is close and intimate, full of love and compassion…

Our God is both of these things and more… all at the same time. 

And thank God for that! 

While it isn’t easy to wrap our heads around this paradox, the truth is that we need a God who is more than just an earthly parent. 

The troubles and concerns of this world are far greater than any human could tackle.

The loss of life from tornados…

Deliverance from oppression…

Peacemaking in the midst of conflict – not just in Ukraine, but in Palestine, and Honduras, and Nigeria and in our country and in our families…

Healing and restoration from illness, disease, disaster, and death…

These are not simple requests and are far greater than asking for a loaf of bread. 

We can only approach God in prayer with confidence because God is bigger than the problems we face. 

But at the same time, a holy and powerful being that holds the life of the world in its hands can itself be a terrifying concept.

I am reminded of the eighteenth century Jonathan Edwards sermon, “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.”

Remember…Moses initially hid his face from God’s presence!

But Moses also came to understand God’s love. 

During his time on the mountaintop in the presence of God, receiving instruction for the people, Exodus 34 tells us that the Lord proclaims again his name. 

But then the Lord continues… The Lord, the Lord, is compassionate, gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands and forgiving wickedness, rebellion, and sin. 

Coming to understand God as the one who is intimately concerned for my life, my welfare, my needs, allows me to let go of fear and rest in God’s presence.

We can trust that God truly does care about my needs and we are free to approach God in love expressing the yearning of our heart. 

God is holy.

God is love and acts with parental love.

I am God’s child.

But there is one final piece of this first phrase that we cannot ignore.

While we do not capture it quite so clearly in Luke’s version of the prayer, it is part of the language we carry forward from Matthew’s gospel.

Jesus does not say “My Father.”

He does not ask us to think of ourselves as individual children.

We say “Our Father.”

Not once in this prayer do we say “I” or “me.”           

Victor Hoagland recently shared a story about his close relationship with his eight-year-old granddaughter.   She is the youngest of the bunch and they have had a chance to spend a lot of time together. 

One evening, he and his wife invited all five of their grandchildren to come over for dinner and Hoagland noticed as they gathered that this little one seemed upset.

When he asked her what was wrong, she answered: “I thought I was the only one coming.”

Hoagland reassured his granddaughter of his great love for her… but also how much love he has for all of his grandchildren and that it was such a great thing they could all be together. 

We often find ourselves in the shoes of that little girl.

We claim our relationship with this holy parent for ourselves, but we are not as quick to think about all of God’s other children.

And the truth is that prayer is not just about our relationship with God, but our relationship with one another. 

We are called to consider that others are God’s children, too.

People we love, but also people that we can’t stand.

People we disagree with and people who are actively working to harm us.

People we have never met and those whose values and perspectives are vastly different than ours. 

I have to admit that this concept hits me in a very different way this week.

Last night, my grandmother, my Babi, died from damage caused to her lungs by Covid.

I am navigating how to be present and offer love and care for family.

But it is hard and messy and complicated.

My family has been separated and split from one another by conflict that has gone unhealed for more than a decade. 

And yet, we are all still family.  We belong to one another. 

But even more than that, we are all claimed by God as children. 

Every time we say the words of this prayer, we are speaking into being the reality that we are connected to one another.

Our loved ones… our friends… yes… but even those who have caused us pain… even those we might sometimes think of as enemies… even those we struggle to understand or forgive. 

We are all children of God. 

And just as my own heart is full of concerns and fears that I bring before this Holy Parent, so too are others. 

As the words of “This is my song” remind us:

“this is my song, O God of all the nations,

A song of peace for lands afar and mind.

This is my home, the country where my heart is;

Here are my hopes, my dreams, my holy shrine;

But other hearts in other lands are beating

With hopes and dreams as true and high as mine.” 

Our. Holy. Parent.

This opening phrase of the prayer that Jesus taught us invites us to claim three truths:

God cares intimately about what happens in our lives and responds in love.

God is holy and powerful and has the capacity to act and transform.

And we are called not just to think of ourselves, but to recognize that we are connected in one family.

Over these forty days of Lent, we will continue to explore this prayer and learn more about what it teaches us.

But we are also invited not just to intellectually process these words, but to allow them to transform us. 

And to that end, for this holy season, I want to invite you to claim a practice with me.

I want to invite you to pray this prayer with me not once per day, not twice, but three times every day.

I want to invite you to make it a part of your living and breathing as you go through your life.

I want to invite you to allow it to fall into your heart and settle in your being. 

May it be so. 

Count the Cost

I have four different apps on my phone that are designed to help me get healthy and fit and lose weight.

 

One of them is a weekly meal plan full of healthy, high protein, low calorie dinner options. It comes complete with a grocery store list and nutritional information for each meal.

 

One of them connects with a wristband to track my steps and even monitors my sleeping habits.

 

One is designed to track my calories eaten and burned each day. It is like a social network to connect me with others who are working on the same thing.

 

The last, I use when hiking or running to track my speed and distance.

 

I have all the tools I need. I have a goal in mind. And yet, somehow I have gained five or six pounds since I moved to Des Moines.

 

Fundamentally, my lack of success has nothing to do with the tools at my disposal and everything to do with the fact that this goal is not a priority in my life. I am not willing to put it above all else. I’m not willing to let this goal change other aspects of my life. I know that to succeed, this priority is going to affect the amount of sleep I get and it will mean spending more money for healthier food options. It will reduce the time I spend watching my favorite t.v. shows and even require that I cook more meals at home instead of enjoying my husband’s super delicious, fatty, carb-filled dinners.

 

The truth is, you can have all the tools in the world and all the best intention, but until you lay out a plan, build in some accountability, and actually make the commitment to do whatever it takes to reach that goal… then nothing about your habits or lifestyle or physical body will change.

 

In our gospel reading this morning, Jesus shares with us an extraordinarily difficult challenge. “Whoever comes to me and doesn’t hate father and mother, spouse and children, and brothers and sisters – yes, even one’s own life – cannot be my disciple.” He asks us to “give up all of your possessions” in order to follow him.

 

Jesus isn’t asking you to turn right now to your loved one and treat them badly. He’s not asking you to leave home. He’s asking each one of us to take seriously the call to be his disciple and helping us to see that our intentions don’t really matter. Until we lay out a plan, build in some accountability and actually make the commitment to do whatever it takes to follow him, then our habits and lifestyle will never change.

 

Last week, we were reminded that the things of this world are impermanent and shaky at best. We heard the call to place our belief and our trust firmly on God and I’m sure a whole lot of us left worship last week thinking, YES! That’s what I need to do! That’s the kind of faith I want to have.

 

“My Hope is Built on Nothing Less than Jesus’ Blood and Righteousness”

“Yes Lord, Yes Lord, Yes Yes Lord!”

 

And yet, just like all of my good intentions about exercise and health, we have to be willing to let those words move from intentions and goals into an actual concrete plan that demonstrates commitment and sacrifice.

 

In your bulletins each week during this series, you will find a green insert that highlight some of the lessons we cover each week in the “Enough” study. I want to invite you to take that sheet out right now.

 

Today’s insert invites you to think about what God is calling you to be and to do. I want us to look at the side that talks about goals.

 

If God is our rock and foundation…

If God is the creator of our lives…

If Jesus Christ is calling us to follow…

Then, what are you supposed to be doing with your life? What is your purpose?

 

For very few of us, that calling involves some sort of professional ministry. And to answer that call took planning and commitment, money and time.

 

Most of us here in this room today, however, have a much higher and more difficult calling. You have been called to be lay persons in the church. You have been called to live out your discipleship where you are. At the office, on the soccer field, on the production line and in the classroom.

 

Sometimes, the work you give yourself to matches up with that call to live out your discipleship. Some of you could share how the act of caring for patients or helping someone plan for their financial future is your ministry.

 

Sometimes, however, our work simply provides the resources that allow us to live out our discipleship in other ways. We spend our retirement caring for neighbors and loved ones. We teach lessons and music to our little ones at the church. We volunteer with community agencies.

 

What gifts has God given you?

What is your purpose?

What is God calling you to do?

 

And once you have figured that out…

are you willing to sit down and count the cost?

Are you willing to give whatever it takes to get there?

Will you let God’s plans trump your plans?

 

 

One of the greatest adventures of my life was to engage in the work of Imagine No Malaria over the past two years.

 

Answering that call was extraordinarily difficult. After all… I already had a calling – to be a pastor, serving in a church. But I also began to see how my gifts tied in with what we needed here in Iowa… what we needed to accomplish what God was calling us to do.

 

I also discovered that God had some lessons for me along the way: the primary lesson being that when we have a mission and a calling, we have to do whatever it takes to get there.

 

Henri Nouwen writes that the work of “fundraising is, first and foremost, a form of ministry. It is a way of announcing our vision and inviting other people into our mission… We are declaring, ‘We have a vision that is amazing and exciting. We are inviting you to invest yourself through the resources God has given you – your energy, your prayers, and your money – in this work to which God has called us.’”

 

And all along the way, I witnessed people who caught that vision and heard the calling from God to end this preventable, beatable disease. And they made sacrifices to help other people live. Some families gave up cable t.v. to make a monthly gift. A nurse quit her job to work on our grassroots campaign. Lots of people made a significant three-year commitment to give to this work. One little girl gave all of her birthday money to help save the lives of kids just like her.

 

And we did that, because we counted the cost and we were willing to give whatever it took to make the goal of saving 200,000 lives a reality.

 

What is your purpose?

What is God calling you to do?

 

Once we answer that question, then we think about those things that are going to help us get there. Then we can think about the spiritual goals and the financial goals and the steps along the way that will help us to say “Yes” to God and set our own plans aside.

 

On the other side of this green insert is a budgeting worksheet. It helps us to gain an accurate picture of the priorities in our lives based on our spending and helps us reorient our financial priorities based on those goals and that purpose that is on the other side.

 

I have a friend and a colleague who recently shared that he used a budget just like this to help him make some big changes in his family. As he and his wife started plugging in the numbers, they were shocked by how much they were spending on transportation. My friend had just bought a new truck and while it was beautiful, the payments were hefty and it was a gas guzzler. And he hardly ever used it as a truck. When compared with the amount of money they were giving to the church and using to help prepare for the new baby on the way, they realized that if they were going to truly give to God and set a good example for their new child, the truck had to go. They sold it and bought a more affordable car. They allowed their spiritual priorities guide their financial decisions.

 

But I also want to emphasize that this accounting we do in our lives needs to cover more than just our finances.

 

What would happen if we did this same accounting of our time?

Where are you spending your time and energy?

Does it reflect your calling?

What do you need to let go of in order to give more time to God’s purpose for your life?

 

Jesus knows that discipleship isn’t easy. He knows that to follow him requires sacrifice… a giving of ourselves and a letting go of our wants and desires.

Jesus knows, because he has been there.

 

He counted the costs. He weighed the options. And he knew what it would take.

 

And today, he asks you to do the same.

 

He’s asking each one of us to take seriously the call to be his disciple. He is asking us to count the cost, lay out a plan, and actually make the commitment to do whatever it takes to follow him. When we do so and when we hold one another accountable to the choices we have made, then our lives will truly be transformed.

 

I Believe…

Nearly five years ago, I lead this “Enough” study with my very first congregation in Marengo. I remember vividly how I had planned out the whole series and had all of my notes ready to go for Sunday morning. I had sat down to start writing about the American dream and how our quest to have it all has taken so much away from our lives…. when an earthquake hit the island of Haiti.

And suddenly, it didn’t seem so hard to put things in perspective.

Every simple convenience and item in my home seemed like an overwhelming blessing when I began to think of the lives of missionaries and doctors and orphans and moms and dads who had just lost everything.

I had a friend whose parents were working at a hospital in Haiti at the time. Her parents were okay and her mom wrote to her in an email:

Hospital Ste. Croix is standing. John and I are fine. The administration building collapsed, and our apartment collapsed under the story above. We have nothing we brought with us to Haiti… Someone who was here gave me some shoes, and I found another pair of reading glasses that will work, so I have what I need.

Those lines just struck me.

“we have nothing we brought with us to Haiti… but someone gave me some shoes and I found a pair of reading glasses, so I have what I need.”

 

We may not experience earthquakes, but that doesn’t mean our lives are completely stable and worry free.

when the ground beneath your feet begins to shake…

When you lose your footing…

When everything seems to fall apart…

When that happens we start to ask questions about what is it that we really need and what are we going to rely upon.

Now, that may have been a more humorous look at this idea of instability but I think that each of us could probably find ourselves somewhere in that sketch.

We put all of our hope and faith and trust into the things of this world… our homes, our jobs, the stock market, and we don’t often pause to think about whether or not we are making the best decisions.

We over extend ourselves and work more hours to make more money so we can have more stuff.

Some statistics from Adam Hamilton’s “Enough” stuck out to me.

Did you know that the average American home went from 1660 square feet in 1973 to 2400 square feet in 2004?

Did you know that there is estimated to be around 2 billion – yes, billion with a b- 2 billion square feet of self-storage space in America? We have so much stuff that we don’t even know what to do with it or where we will put it.

And to get all of that space and all of the stuff to fill it, we have exploited our credit systems… and our credit systems have exploited us.

In the past twenty years, the average credit card debt in our country rose from $3,000 a person to $9,000 a person.

It’s like we have a gaping hole in our lives that we aren’t quite sure how to fill. So we try to fill it with money and possessions.

We try to build our lives upon these things and forget that the economic systems of this world are just shifting sands.

And so when the sands shift, when the rug gets pulled out from under us, we don’t have a firm footing. We have put all of our faith and trust into our things… instead of our God.

Adam Hamilton reminds us that the core of our most recent financial crisis is the extension and abuse of credit.

The very word credit comes from the Latin word credo, which means “I believe” or “I trust.”

By extending credit to us, our home mortgage companies and stores and the credit card companies believe and trust that we will pay them back for the money extended to us.

But too often, we have treated this credit as something that we believe and trust in… we believe it will always be there, that there is always more to borrow, that it is the answer to all of our problems.

We believe in our credit, more than we do our God. And as we do so, we find ourselves building on an insecure foundation that is moments away from collapse.

Jesus had some advice about things. In the Sermon on the Mount, he said that his words are not just helpful pieces of advice to get add inspiration to our day – they are what we are supposed to be building our lives upon.

Hear this scripture again, this time from the Message:

If you work these words into your life, you are like a smart carpenter who built his house on solid rock. Rain poured down, the river flooded, a tornado hit—but nothing moved that house. It was fixed to the rock.

But if you just use my words in Bible studies and don’t work them into your life, you are like a stupid carpenter who built his house on the sandy beach. When a storm rolled in and the waves came up, it collapsed like a house of cards. – Matthew 7: 25-29

Now, of course, Jesus isn’t talking about our actual homes. Floods and fires and earthquakes destroy homes all the time, no matter how strong we have built them.

He is talking about our ability to withstand the troubles of this world.

When disaster strikes…

When the stock market falls…

When a diagnosis shakes the foundations of your family…

When those things happen, and sometime they will to all of us… Is your life built on a belief in credit cards and mortgages and flat screen televisions?

Or is the core belief of your life… the one that everything else is built on… is that belief in the God who created you, who died for you, who gives you life?

When the earthquake comes and shakes our very foundations, will we have as much abundance in our life as the woman serving in Haiti whose only possessions are a borrowed pair of shoes and some reading glasses?

In our first reading this morning, this letter of advice to Timothy, Paul writes that wealth is here today and gone tomorrow, so we should:

go after God, who piles on the all the riches we could ever manage – to do good, to be rich in helping others, to be extravagantly generous. (1 Tim 6:17-19 MSG)

And he reminds Timothy, this from the Message translation:

A devout life does bring wealth, but it is the rich simplicity of being yourself before God. Since we entered the world penniless and will leave it penniless, if we have bread on the table and shoes on our feet, that’s enough.

If we have bread on the table and shoes on our feet… that’s enough.

 

Over the next month, we will be looking at that word, Enough.

We’ll ask what “enough” means in our life, what it means in our church, and how we can live our lives making sure that others have “enough” as well.

But today, I want us to remember that while we worry about having enough, the truth is that we are blessed beyond our wildest dreams.

It is just that we sometimes need a shift in perspective to see that. We need to weed out the seeds of life and fruitfulness from the gunk.

We might fret about keeping up with our neighbors, but we were created to love one another.

We get anxious about our stock portfolios, but we were meant to share with those in need.

We are constantly thinking about upgrading to the newest device or fashion accessory, but we were meant to enjoy the simple pleasures of life.

My prayer is that this season of “Enough”, this time that we spend together exploring our spiritual and financial lives, will help re-orient us. My prayer is that it will transform our relationship with money so that we might see it not as a source of anxiety and stress in our lives, but as a resource that God has given us to do good in this world and to care for one another.

And the start of that transformation is to start with what we believe and who we entrust our lives to.

I want to invite you to turn with me to page 883 in your hymnals and recite with me one of the many creeds, or statements of belief that we affirm together as the people of God. Page 883.

Over and Over and Over Again

Earlier this week, I was tired and worn out, and I kept being lazy and forgetting all kinds of things. I didn’t put the dishes in the dishwasher and left them on the counter. I forgot the previous day’s laundry in the washing machine and when we opened it, everything smelled a little musty. I left a light on in the family room all night long.

Each time, my husband reminded me of what I had left undone.

Each time, I found myself saying, “I’m sorry.”

Each time, it felt like a bigger deal, like straws being added, slowly and surely to the camel’s back.

I don’t know if Brandon was counting, but I was. I kept making note of all the times I messed up and did something wrong.

The little things just kept piling up.

And I felt so rotten about the whole thing that when I noticed something that he had left undone, I jumped on it.

In my head, I thought – HA! Here is something that will cancel out one of those mistakes I made.

In reality, I was not my most grace-filled self.

 

In our relationships, we spend far too much time keeping track of the wrongs we and others have done. Adam Hamilton, in his book Forgiveness, describes these sins and injuries as rocks that we carry around with us.

Some are small like pebbles. You know, like leaving a dish on the counter. [drop a few pebbles into your bag]

Others are medium sized stones, like forgetting a birthday or anniversary. [drop a medium sized stone or two into your bag]And then there are the boulders. Major hurts like cheating on your spouse or getting someone fired. [drop a brick into your bag]

 

When we spend our days keeping track of the mistakes and sins of others, what we are doing is metaphorically carrying around the weight of those wrongs with us. It doesn’t matter if it is one big boulder or a thousand little pebbles… it’s heavy! It’s a burden.

 

In my relationship with my husband, I was counting up my faults. And it wasn’t that he was unkind or not forgiving… I just took it personally every time he pointed out where I had made a mistake.

I found myself mentally adding a stone to our relationship each and every time.

I foolishly thought that pointing out one of his faults would take a stone away.

It didn’t.

It made everything worse.

Because now I wasn’t just thinking about my own faults. I was actively seeking out his so that I could even the score.

In doing so, I only piled a bunch more weight in our bag.

 

The only way to truly let go of the stones is to forgive.

The weight of sin and debt and grievances will overwhelm us if we try to carry them on our shoulders.

Jesus knew this.

And so when Peter asked how many times he should forgive his brother or sister in Christ, there was only one answer.

We aren’t to forgive once or twice or seven times… we are to forgive over and over and over again.

We are to forgive always.

We are to never stop forgiving.

 

To help Peter, and us, understand more fully this imperative to forgive, Jesus tells a little story. A story about someone with unimaginable financial debts who was forgiven by the ruler of the kingdom. Only, when that debtor turned around and was asked to forgive a small debt from a neighbor he refused. The king heard about how the debtor would not forgive another, and took back the pardon that was offered.

A long time ago, a monk named Anselm used this analogy to teach about how we could never make amends to God for our sin. Our sin is like a debt that we will never be able to repay.

If we think about our sins as little mistakes, the cost or weight of that sin is the price we have to pay. In the past, we might have tried to pay for our debts by counting up each one and offering the sacrifice that would counteract each grievance.

But in Anselm’s view, our sin can pile up into one gigantic, big, rocky mountain. It is overwhelming trying to even imagine, much less quantify, the ways we have let God down and have strayed from God’s will in our lives. We simply can’t keep up with the payments and they compound with interest and before we are even aware of it, we owe God an infinite debt. We simply could never repay God for the price of our sins.

Like the debtor on his knees before the king, there is nothing left for us to do, but fall on our knees before our Lord and beg for mercy.

There is nothing we can offer that can make it right.

Even if we gave our very lives, Anselm wrote, it wouldn’t be enough. The weight of our sin is overwhelming.

Our God is a loving God, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast mercy.

Our God created us and loves us, even when we don’t deserve it.

Our God comes to us and lifts us up out of our despair and sin and mistakes.

I forgive you, God says.

I have already covered the price of your sin. It is wiped clean. It is no more.

And so, like the debtor before the king, we have experienced incredible compassion and forgiveness and mercy.

This morning, we baptized little Adelyn Rohde. In that act of baptism, God’s forgiveness pours into our lives.

The point is not that baptism covers all of our sins before we find this water. It’s that God’s love and grace and mercy overwhelms us with forgiveness before we even know we need it.

That’s how abundant and powerful the love of God is.

The question is… what will we do with that unimagineable gift of grace?

 

What we shouldn’t do is live like the debtor. He took advantage of the mercy of the king and hoarded forgiveness for himself. As soon as he was given the opportunity to pass grace on, he refused. He counted every penny of his neighbor’s debt and forced them to pay it all.

That is not what God desires for us. Our Lord and Savior wants the gift of grace to fill in every aspect of our lives.

God wants forgiveness to transform every relationship we have… not just with Jesus Christ, but with our spouses and children, with neighbors and strangers.

God wants forgiveness to transform how we see ourselves.

The debtor in the parable this morning… he went right back to counting sins. He went right back to piling pebbles and stones and rocks up and forcing others (and himself) to carry them around.

God wants us to stop counting.

In the book many of us are reading right now, Forgiveness, a woman talks about her relationship with her husband. Like my husband and I, she had been looking for the mistakes and keeping a mental count of the wrongs in their relationship. But one day, she stopped counting.

“I find that when I make up my mind to stop being bitter or annoyed at my husband that our love is the best. It’s all in what I make up my mind to do.”

God wants us to stop counting.

We aren’t supposed to forgive once, or twice, or seven times.

We are to forgive over and over and over again.

The point of such an extravagant number like 70×7 is that you can’t keep track. You are just supposed to keep forgiving.

Even before Jesus answered Peter’s question, he had been trying to help the disciples learn this life lesson.

We forgive because we have been forgiven.

It is what he taught us in the Lord’s Prayer.

Forgive us our debts, as we forgive those who have debts against us.

 

Friends, we don’t have time to count the sins of others, and we don’t have time to keep track of all the mistakes we have made in our lives either.

A life of love and grace and mercy means that we have the freedom to simply live.

We will make mistakes.

We will forget to put the dishes away.

We are going to not always be our best.

Adam Hamilton writes that “We are bound to hurt others , and others are bound to hurt us.” (page 1)

But we can let the love and grace of God transform our hearts. We can clothe ourselves, as Colossians invites us to with kindness, compassion, humility, and patience.

And we can choose to forgive over and over and over again.