Follow The Star: Invitation

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Text: John 1:43-51

This year has begun with chaos, violence, grief, and pain.
And I have to admit that when I sat down to write this sermon, the words just wouldn’t come.
Or rather, I would write and then my anger and frustration would kick in and I’d have to delete what I had typed.
And then I’d sit in sadness for a while.
What, honestly, do we say in times like these.
Can we go on as if everything is normal?

But the more I sat, the more I felt God nudging me to stay in that moment.
To not try to soothe or explain anything with words, but to simply be.
God could see where I was… and God still loved me.
God didn’t need anything else from me.

So today, rather than telling you what this text is all about, I invite you into a space to simply be with God.
To let where you are today, in this moment, to be revealed.
God is inviting you to come into the presence of Christ just as you are.
And ironically? Providentially? God had already given us a text to use.

So, find a comfortable place to sit…
Close your eyes.
Place your feet on the ground or your hands by your side…
Feel the substance, the strength, of the ground or surface beneath them.
Notice the places where your body is connected to whatever is supporting you.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.

In our lesson today, Jesus is calling disciples.
“Follow me,” he says.
He issues an invitation not to everyone, but to individuals.
People with gifts and talents and baggage and stories.
Think about the people you might encounter on a regular basis.
Who among them do you think Jesus would pick out and personally invite to follow him?
What is it about their life that makes them worthy of the invitation?
Is there any among those people you imagine Jesus would not invite?
Notice what that question does in your heart.
There might be people we would exclude… But is there anyone Jesus would exclude?

If Jesus turned to you and said, “Follow me,” how would you respond?
What would you do first?

Our scripture tells us that Philip receives an invitation.
And the first thing he does is to go and find his friend.
He goes to share the good news.
“We’ve found him!” Philip says. “The One we’ve been waiting for!”
Waiting for a long time.
Since the time Moses… and Isaiah…
Centuries of waiting.
And in light of this invitation to respond and participate, Philip’s response to Jesus is outgoing and exuberant.
Without any kind of judgment, think about your own response to God’s invitation.
Do the words outgoing or exuberant describe you?
If not, think about someone who embodies those qualities.
What is a gift that someone like Philip brings to the ministry of Christ in the world?

Nathanael also received an invitation to follow Jesus.
Not personally, but through his friend.
And his first response is to ask a question.
“What good can come out of Nazareth?”
After centuries of waiting, he is hopefully, but weary.
Maybe a little jaded or cynical.
Or maybe Nathanael just wants to know more.
Or he is troubled by the certainty that his friend has.
Without any kind of judgment, think about your response to God’s invitation.
Do the words weary or questioning describe you?
If not, think about someone who embodies those qualities.
What is a gift that someone like Nathanael could bring to the ministry of Christ in the world?

Sometimes in our relationships with others, we find ourselves at odds with someone.
They don’t share our joy… or frustration. They ask hard questions. Or push back.
In a world of division, this might feel more common than ever.
What do you do when others react this way?
Are you hurt? Do you give them space? Do you turn away from them? Are you persistent? Do you try to argue your point?
Think about how Philip replies to his friend.
He isn’t put off by the skepticism, he doesn’t push back.
He simply offers another invitation.
“Come and see.”
Think about someone in your life you disagree with. About politics, about covid, about Jesus…
How might you ask them to “come and see”?
To invite them in rather than push them away.

Our scripture today concludes with Nathanael meeting Jesus.
A Jesus who sees him.
A Jesus who knows him.
Inside and out.
Before they ever spoke, Jesus knew his questions and his honesty.
What some people might name as a fault, Jesus sees as a gift.
And when he realizes God knows him so intimately…
That God loves him…
And welcomes him…
And accepts him…
As he is…
He cries out his profession of faith.
This same Jesus that saw Nathanael sees you.
Knows you.
Whether you are exuberant like Philip…
Or questioning like Nathanael…
Or quiet…
Or angry…
Or grieving…
Or weary…
Whatever you are today, know this.
You are known by God.
You are invited and welcomed by God.
You are a gift of God to this world.
Amen.

Love before Knowledge

There are two things I have come to hope for on Communion Sundays:

Welch’s grape juice in the cup, and Hawaiian Sweet Bread on the table.

 

941928_479696322109898_1492252979_nAnd that’s for a couple of reasons:

First, they both taste better than most other options available.

Second, the Hawaiian Sweet Bread is the perfect combination of soft and easy to tear and yet not crumble into pieces all over the place – which is a good thing when you are the one breaking bread every time.

And third, the Welch’s are Methodist.

 

In fact, the birth of Welch’s grape juice came out of our desire to stop using fermented wine during the temperance movement. Thomas Welch was a dentist and a communion steward at his local Methodist Church. He heard about how Louis Pasteur had begun to pasteurize milk, so he decided to try and apply the process to grape juice in 1869.

His son, Charles, marketed the pasteurized grape juice to these temperance-minded churches. In fact, he quit his job as a dentist to do so and created the Welch’s Grape Juice brand in 1893. (from Welchs.com/about-us/our-story/our-history and http://www.gbod.org/resources/changing-wine-into-grape-juice-thomas-and-charles-welch-and-the-transition-)

 

While the roots of our “unfermented juice of the grape” go back to the late 19th century, we have continued to emphasize using grape juice, even long after prohibition was repealed.

Our 1964 Book of Worship included this phrase which we have continued to use until today: that while the “historic and ecumenical practice has been the use of wine, the use of the unfermented grape juice by The United Methodist Church and its predecessors is an expression of pastoral concern for recovering alcoholics, enables the participation of children and youth, and supports the church’s witness of abstinence.” (BOW p 28)

I share the brief history lesson, because I think it relates to our lesson from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians this morning.

As this community struggled with what it meant to be unified, they realized that a lot of different types of folks were part of their church.

Some of them were life-long Jews who had followed the way of Jesus. They had only ever worshipped one God. Yet some of the new believers in the faith were pagans. They had spent their entire lives worshipping at the temples of various Roman deities like Apollo and Poseidon.

So how were these people all supposed to share one roof? They had different histories of practice and different understandings of what it meant to worship.

One particular place where their practices conflicted was around the practice of eating meat. In the ancient world, almost all of the meat consumed was done so at a temple. That lamb or beef or whatever was the result of an offering given to the local god.

And here is where the conflict came.

Those who had been followers of Christ of a while, many from the Jewish background, KNEW that there was only one God. Intellectually, there was no worship of these various gods because they simply didn’t exist. So who cared if they partook of a little steak at the local temple?

Well, for those who had recently converted away from that temple worship, it was a big deal. The new converts were working hard to keep on the way, to follow Jesus, and all that alluring smell of roasted meat was making it awfully difficult. And when they peeked in the doors of Apollo’s temple and saw the elders of their new church eating – well, they got pretty confused.   Was Apollo real or not? And if Apollo wasn’t real, why were those Christians worshipping him?

So Paul lifted up a practical solution for the faithful long-time Christians: just stop eating meat.   It is the loving thing to do. And even though you know it isn’t idol worship, you have the ability to choose to act a different way in order to help your brothers and sisters in Christ.

In the same way, we lift up grape juice when we break bread together, so that all might be welcomed at this table. It doesn’t mean wine is bad. It doesn’t mean that some of us don’t drink. But choosing to consume grape juice together means that everyone has a place here.

There is a line in Paul’s letter that I think is key for us to remember this morning: You sin against Christ if you sin against your brothers and sisters and hurt their weak consciences this way.

Now, here Paul doesn’t mean they are weak as in bad… he simply means they are new to the faith. They still have a lot to learn. They are growing into what it means to be a Christian. And so they need to have as few barriers to their faith as possible.

Do you remember, with the children, when we talked about evil spirits? When we talked about those things in our lives that keep other people from knowing Jesus?

Knowledge is sometimes like that. We can flaunt it and it can puff us up and keep us from really and truly showing love to another person.

Love is what is important. Not rules or knowledge or what we eat or drink. Love binds us together. If we remember that we sin against Christ if we sin against our brothers and sisters and hurt them, then love leads us to ask the difficult question of how our actions keep others from Jesus. Is there something about what we are doing that is harming the body of Christ?

 

I am tempted to keep this a surface level conversation about grape juice on the communion table, but the truth is, there are all sorts of really tough and difficult things that threaten to break apart our churches. There are all sorts of things we do and say as Christians that hurt our brothers and sisters, sons and daughters and neighbors.

And perhaps the one that is on many of our minds in recent weeks has been same-sex marriage. Perhaps you have read in the newspaper, or seen on television, how a retired pastor in our conference, Rev. Larry Sonner, officiated the wedding of a same-sex couple and then turned himself in to the Bishop. In our Book of Discipline, our tradition and teaching does not support same-sex marriage, even though our state laws do, and so a process was begun seeking a just resolution.

What is amazing is that we have a process of just resolution at all. According to our Discipline, “a just resolution is on that focuses on repairing any harm to people and communities, achieving real accountability by making things right in so far as possible and bringing healing to all the parties.” (¶363.1).

It is a powerful witness to the love and grace and mercy of God in a world that is so focused on punishment and retribution. In his article on the Des Moines Register, columnist Daniel Finney wrote:

“It’s especially admirable considering how poor our public dialogues are relating to just about any issue today. Here you’ve got a veteran pastor questioning the laws of a church he has dedicated his life to serving and not a voice was raised, not a fist was shaken. Instead, there was thoughtful discussion, prayer and resolution.

Regardless of how one feels about the specific issue, there’s a powerful lesson for peaceful negotiation in this story.”

This is how we act in a church when love and not knowledge is our guide. And this is the witness we have to offer to the world… a witness of finding a way forward in spite of our differences. A witness of acknowledging the harm we do by our actions and inactions. A witness of seeking the good for our brothers and sisters.

So today, I want to share with you portions of a pastoral letter that our Bishop, Bishop Julius Trimble sent to all churches last week:

Grace and peace to you as we journey in Christian discipleship in 2015.

One of the early prayers and initial responses to the formal complaint was that we would be “perfected in Christ love” and engage, rather than ignore, the difficulties the current conflict between what is prohibited in our Book of Discipline and what is legal and celebrated in Iowa.

The reactions to same-gender marriages and relationships and the serious subject of covenant accountability to church polity remind me of a Nigerian proverb: “Children of the same mother do not always agree!

Questions and conflict regarding our future as a Church require much prayer, graceful conversations and decisions that may spell a different future for the Church…

When I was consecrated Bishop, I promised to work to uphold the unity of the Church. I believe that unity has, as its foundation, our love of God and neighbor. I also believe we can have unity of heart and not necessarily all be of one mind. While this Just Resolution is a response to a specific complaint, it recognizes the division of our church on the issue of human sexuality. This Just Resolution is an attempt to honor our disciplinary process, maintain accountability, and seek a deeper, more prayerful, listening to each other and, most of all, to God.

As your Bishop I invite you to join with me in a time of intentional listening to God and each other, remembering that as the Body of Christ, the Spirit can speak through each of us.

Be Encouraged,   Bishop Julius Calvin Trimble

We don’t have time in worship to spend time listening or really go over the content of the just resolution, but I want to extend to you that invitation for a time of intentional listening to God and to one another.  And I want to let you know that I am always available for conversation about this and any other topic that affects our life as a congregation and your lives as individuals.

We won’t all agree. We come at the conversation from various perspectives. We read the scripture through the lenses of our own experience. But above all, we are a people of love, service, and prayer. And together we can put love at the forefront of our conversations and we, too, can seek a prayerful way forward.

And that way forward starts at the table. The table of love and grace and mercy. A table, set with grape juice. Amen and Amen.