enemy – Salvaged Faith

What Happened in Damascus?

Posted on July 4, 2021Leave a comment

Text: Acts 9:1-20

Our scripture today starts with lines drawn in the sand.

Us verses them.

The faithful, orthodox, Jewish leader vs. the rebellious believers of the Way.

Division.

Destruction.

And everyone so sure that they were on the side that was right.

You know, on this national holiday weekend, I can’t ignore how this kind of “us” vs “them” language echoes the kind of nationalism we find too often in the world.

We, the shining city on a hill have been blessed by God.

And in defense of our beloved nation, we’ll come after anyone who disagrees with us.

Anyone who is a threat to our way of life and our values.

That is what Saul was doing, after all.

He believed in his tradition, in the law, in who God had called him to be.

And he was willing to defend it all with his very life… taking other lives if he had to.

If you weren’t with him… you were against him.

But in the same way, that “us” vs “them” mentality was present in the followers of the Way of Christ.

When Ananias receives a calling from the Lord to go to Saul, his very first response is to name that man as doing evil… compared with the saints on his own side.

Good verses bad.

Right verses wrong.

Insiders verses outsiders.

Both have cause for why they believe what they believe.

Each can point to actions of the other that would justify their own positions.

There is that old adage that there are two sides to every story and today, I certainly don’t want to get caught up in excusing either side from their actions.

Nor do I want to say that there is not, in fact, a good… a standard… a godly measure of how we should be that we should all be held up against.

Maybe more of what I’d like to note is a simple observation from Stephen D. Jones, “not many of us are ‘breathing threats and murder’ against our opponents. However, we have all been on wrong paths… We have all been headstrong, stubborn, blinded to our own ambition, selfish to meet our own need…”[1]

And in part, I think this story of what happens in Damascus is a reminder that God is not interested in the lines that we have drawn.

God is not interested in the labels we throw at one another.

God doesn’t care about our nationality or pedigree or longevity with the faith.

God is not interested in our us verses them arguments.

In fact, God flips all of the scripts and expectations on their head to change everyone’s lives and instead orient us towards life in the Kingdom of Heaven.

In our Acts study book, N.T. Wright calls Saul a “hardline, fanatical, ultra-nationalist, super-orthodox Pharisaic Jew.”

And yet… he’s the guy that Jesus calls to reach out to the non-Jewish, Gentile community.

Ananias is likely a newcomer to the way of Christ. Damascus was about 135 miles from Jerusalem and you can’t imagine that in this short of time that the good news about Jesus would have taken a very deep hold this far out yet.

And yet, this non-Israelite is the one who Jesus calls to go to Saul.

This non-apostle, non-deacon, ordinary, regular guy is the one who God uses to heal Saul and who baptizes him with the Holy Spirit.

In many ways, God is telling us that it doesn’t matter who you are or where you come from or what your story was…

You, too, just might be called into this inside-out, upside-down, community of Christ.

No one is safe from God breaking in and disrupting everything you thought you knew about your life.

And that… well… that’s a little terrifying.

As a pastor, I sometimes shy away from this story about Saul’s dramatic conversion because it really is just too incredible.

He is a guy who literally makes a 180 degree turn in his life.

He goes from persecuting Christians to preaching the cross of Christ.

His old life dies on the Road to Damascus and three days later, he is born again as an apostle of Jesus.

There are very few of us who can compare our stories with his and William Muehl writes that this can give us a bit of a “faith inferiority complex.”[2]

Or, maybe even more than that, we fear something coming along to cause such a dramatic change in our lives.

Over these last sixteen months, we experienced what it is like to have life come to a stand-still and have everything that we knew to be “normal” upended.

It isn’t something we seek out unless we are desperate or at the end of our ropes.

Maybe that’s why we identify a bit more with Ananias in this story.

You know, the ordinary fellow, going about his day, who gets called to walk down the street and pass along a message to his mortal enemy.

What… that doesn’t happen to you on a regular basis?

I just have to keep telling myself that the main character in this story is not Saul.

And it’s not Ananias.

It is Jesus Christ.

For many chapters now, the disciples and apostles have been talking about Jesus.

But he shows up and calls these two individuals to action.

This is a word about how our Savior continues to show up in the lives of unexpected people to challenge us and push us beyond everything we thought we knew and understood.

Beyond our boundaries and borders and beliefs.

And sometimes, that happens in a heartbeat – like it did on that road to Damascus.

But sometimes, it happens over a lifetime.

Sometimes, truth comes to us in a dream or a sign or a message…

But sometimes it comes through a friend who has the courage to tell it like it is.

All around us, God is moving…

God is pushing us beyond our artificial divisions…

God is opening up our eyes…

God is calling us out of our privilege and bias…

Jesus stands before us, waiting for us to stop breathing threats and running from enemies and to start working together for a Kingdom that is far wider and more expansive than we could ever imagine.

May it be so.

[1] Jones. Stephen D. Feasting on the Word, Year C Volume 2, p 403.

[2] William Muehl, Why Preach? Why Listen? (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1986), 11.

Untitled

Posted on October 7, 2018Leave a comment

Text: Mark 9:38-41

Sometimes the best thing a preacher can do is to be real and authentic.

And so I’m going to confess that I’m really struggling with how to share this text with you this week.

This fall, we are loosely following the lectionary – the three-year cycle of texts that help us to explore the fullness of the scripture. Rather than just preaching on my favorite texts each week, the lectionary challenges us to think outside of our comfort zone.

But we also are building up to our Stewardship Sunday at the end of this month, and as we organized the texts and the themes, we wanted to ask the question – Are you able to support the ministry of others? Are you able to invest in the work of your fellow siblings in Christ – even if you don’t always do things the same way? Are you able to encourage people you disagree with?

I still want to preach that sermon.

But I admit that it is harder to preach today than it was a month ago or a year ago.

And that is because what we see all around us, in both the church and our larger political landscape and indeed in our world, is a whole lot of us vs. them mentality.

I was sitting at an event in Chicago two weeks ago with other members of the General Conference delegation from our jurisdiction. And there is this particular person with whom I have a very difficult time finding any common ground. They weren’t even sitting at the table with me, but I could see them across the room and every single time they caught my attention, I could feel my anxiety rise. My heart beat faster. My chest clenched up a bit.

I realized that I see this person as my enemy.

We are on the same team.

We both love the United Methodist Church.

And yet everything we believe appears to be so diametrically opposed… and not only that, but I feel like their position actually harms people I love within the church.

I don’t want them to win.

And I don’t know what to do about that and how it is impacting my own soul.

Politics is the social life that we share together and we have witnessed our political discourse crumble to pieces.

In these past few weeks, anyone who has tried to say something about what is happening in our nation, particularly around the Supreme Court – for or against it – is immediately swarmed by people who both criticize their position and criticize them for not going far enough.

We are so entrenched that we cannot even see clearly.

The red side and the blue side are enemies and the slightest mention of anything political and you can watch a room fill with tension as people discern when to engage and how in order to be victorious.

But, friends, there simply have not been any winners in these political battles.

We have all lost.

As we have been following the gospel of Mark this fall, we come to a moment of struggle for the disciples. They have worked so closely with Jesus and even though they don’t always get it completely right, they understand who their tribe is.

To use a sports metaphor, Jesus is the coach and they can point to the other eleven players.

They know who their teammates are.

But as our pericope begins, the disciple John tells Jesus about how he and some other disciples noticed these other people who were doing ministry in his name. Specifically, they were casting out demons, something that the disciples themselves had just failed to do successfully a few verses earlier.

What was their very first response to encountering these people?

Resentment. Hostility.

They tried to stop them.

If they aren’t part of our team, our tribe, we have to shut them down.

Into our tribalism and partisanship, into our entrenchment and division, Christ speaks.

From the message translation:

“No one can use my name to do something good and powerful, and in the next breath cut me down. If he’s not an enemy, he’s an ally. Why, anyone by just giving you a cup of water in my name is on our side.”

Whoever is not against us is for us.

Those are really hard words to hear when you feel like you are on the battlefield.

They are hard words to hear when you consider someone your enemy.

They are especially hard words to hear when you look at the actions or the policies or the attitudes of someone and you actually believe that they will harm you or people you love or things you care about.

And maybe that is why I have struggled so much with this text this week.

Because there are bigger issues out there in the world than simply accepting or encouraging the ministry of someone who sets up communion a different way that I do.

I think our division is so intense because we believe there are issues of life and death, holiness and faithfulness, justice and covenant, on the line as a result of the direction we take… from either side.

But I wonder if what Jesus is really calling us to in this passage is a different way of engaging those battles.

What if instead of seeing those on the other side of the aisle or the other side of the church or in another part of this world as enemies, we saw them first as allies.

Jesus says that you demonstrate you are on his side by giving others a cup of water, giving the hungry food, clothing the naked, comforting the mourning.

Not by destroying those with whom you disagree.

If we continue just a bit farther in this chapter, Jesus talks about how if your hand or foot or eye causes you to stumble, cut it off. And then he reminds us that everyone will go through a refining fire sooner or later… and we need to consider how our actions demonstrate our faithfulness.

I think Jesus is calling us to get busy doing good, to worry about our own actions and our own failings, and to let God sort out the rest.

I got to thinking about my friend, Doug, as I thought about this work.

Doug was a Missouri Synod Lutheran pastor in the community that I first served in Marengo.

While we are both Christian, our two traditions have very different understandings of communion, ordination, and the place of women in the church.

The very first time I met Doug, I admit I had a lot of anxiety.

This was a person whose faith taught him that I couldn’t and shouldn’t be a pastor.

Everything in my being was preparing for an argument or to figure out a way to defend myself and my personhood. I had already drawn lines in the sand. I had already thought of him as a potential enemy.

Do you know what Doug wanted to talk about?

He wanted to ask if I would be willing to join him and some other pastors for breakfast every Wednesday morning to talk about the lectionary.

He didn’t see my as an opponent or someone he had to convince, but as an ally, a colleague, a friend.

He was offering me a cup of water…. Or coffee in this instance, in the name of Christ.

He was doing ministry in Jesus’ name.

And he recognized that I was doing the same.

We shared breakfast every Wednesday morning for four years.

And when we are invited to this table, we are called to set aside our weapons and our armor and to see people we believed to be enemies as brothers and sisters.

We will not agree.

We will not do things the same.

We might even believe that the actions of another person might harm our witness or people we love and care about.

But if we engage one another in love…

If we greet them in the name of Christ…

If we offer them a cup of water…

If we open ourselves to allow them to do the same for us…

Then at the very least we are preserving that place in our own souls that dies a little bit every time we consider someone to be our enemy.

Once we allow someone to sit with us at the table and break bread and share a meal, we discover that there are new ways to have a conversation about our differences.

We find there are good things that we can do together in Christ’s name.

And we have a chance to build the kind of trust and relationship that will allow us to truly hold one another accountable for our actions. We will finally have the authority and respect in one another’s life to call out actions that are done in the name of Christ that harms the body. And we can do so in love, with compassion, trusting and knowing that we are on the same team and that if our sister or brother is calling us to account it is because they want what is best for not only our own soul, but for the church and the world that we share.

So are you able to invite someone you disagree with to the table?

Are you able to point out the good things they do in Christ’s name?

Are you able to encourage them and love them so that one day you can both hold one another accountable?

May it be so.

A Place at the Table

Posted on May 6, 2018Leave a comment

Yesterday, my husband and I took advantage of the beautiful day to do some work in the yard. One of our primary tasks for the day was to take care of some problematic trees and shrubs and to work on the perennials.
Needless to say, like the vineyard keeper in John’s gospel we did some trimming, pruning, and we removed a lot of dead growth!

The first summer we moved into our home here in Des Moines, we made some of those drastic cuts and changes as well. The backyard was fairly overgrown and crowded. Some of the bigger trees were unhealthy, but because they were so large, they were limiting growth of some of the smaller, more healthy trees. We had a company come in to help us trim the canopy and remove dead limbs.

We ended up with five cords of firewood, a lot more space and air and sunshine, and mulch for our flower beds. It was then that we could start making plans about what new life we wanted to add to the back yard.

I have to admit that there was a part of me that really worried about trimming back as much as we did. That first summer, things appeared kind of bare and I was afraid that we had made changes we couldn’t come back from or that cutting back that drastically would actually damage the trees.
But as I looked out at the yard yesterday morning, I realized that we had created space for other plants to grow and flourish and that all over the trees where we had removed dead, overgrown branches, there was new growth in all the right places.

You see, all of those trees and plants – the ones that were trimmed back, the ones that had been overcrowded, and the new ones we planted… they all were still connected to their source of life. They got sunshine and rain, were able to put strong roots into the ground, and there was space for them all to grow.

In John’s gospel we are reminded that sometimes in life there needs to be trimming and transplanting in order for there to be growth.

As I thought about our gifts and talents surveys, I’m reminded of that old adage that 20% of the people tend to do 80% of the work.
Sometimes, that is because this world is full of busy people.
But sometimes, it is because those folks who have a passion for the work – whether it is here at church or in some other volunteer organization – just scoop up all of the opportunities to serve. We are so quick to say yes and to jump in and do the task that sometimes we haven’t created space for other people to join in. Sometimes our big healthy trees need to take a breath and cut back just a bit so that there is room for new folks to join in or room for new growth in other places.
That’s one reason these surveys are so important. They help us to know what you are interested in so that we can personally invite you into new spaces and we can see where we need to create room for new voices and perspectives to be heard.
So please, fill them out!

What is important to remember – whether we are new to this community of faith or if we have been planted here for decades – is that we remain connected to God.
Remain in me, Jesus said, and I will remain in you.
Abide in me. Allow me to give you life.
I will lead you beside still waters and help you to rest in grassy meadows and will guide you through what seems like death and will protect you.
I promise, Jesus says, you will experience growth.
If you stay connected with me, you will bear fruit!

Bishop Laurie reminded me of two strange truths about this passage from John in her weekly blog this week.
The first is that “Jesus doesn’t say, ‘I hope you’ll choose to be a branch on my tree.’” We are already connected. Our very life and breath means that God is the source of our being.
We don’t choose to be a part of God’s community. We simply are.
We can run away from that community. We can cut ourselves off.
But God has already chosen us.
You have a seat at this table.

The second, is that just as we didn’t choose to be a branch on this tree… neither did we choose who the other branches are. The Lord is our Shepherd, but we are not solitary sheep in this flock.
Bishop Laurie shared a passage from Ralph Morton who wrote:

God has set us in inescapable community,
In our family,
In our neighborhood,
In all the relationships with others that life brings…
When we are enlivened by the Spirit of Christ
We accept community and begin to live
According to the laws of our being.

(Ralph Morton, This is the Day; Readings and Meditations from the Iona Community, Month 1, Day 15, Wild Goose Publications)

On any given day, we don’t get to choose who shows up for worship in this building.
We don’t get to choose who our family is.
They simply show up – brought to us by God.

Because they have been chosen by God as well.
There is a place at this table set for them, too.
As Bishop Laurie reminded me, “Inescapable community becomes real when we intentionally enter into the relationships that life brings to us…”

It made me think about those oh so familiar words of the Psalm – that God has set a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
What if that table is not simply there for me to feast and gain strength as people I disagree with look on?
What it that table is actually meant to be shared?
What if God has placed a table right there so that I might look out at love upon my enemies.
What if I’m supposed to remember that they are branches of God’s vine.
They are sheep of God’s flock.
There is a place set for them, too.

When we abide in Jesus, when we are enlivened by the Spirit of Christ, when we take our place at this table… we discover the others that God has already placed into our midst and are invited to love them, to serve them, to pray for them…
In doing so, we all find room to grow and bear fruit.
May it be so. Amen.

Quotes from Bishop Laurie: http://www.lauriehaller.org/inescapable-community/

Holy Ground

Posted on August 25, 2014Leave a comment

In our scripture video just now, the creators left off one snippet of a verse. Right at the very end, the Book of Romans reads:

Revenge belongs to me; I will pay it back, says the Lord. ²⁰Instead, If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him a drink. By doing this, you will pile burning coals of fire upon his head. ²¹Don’t be defeated by evil, but defeat evil with good.

Do good. Love. Feed the hungry.

What does piling burning coals of fire on someone’s head have to do with any of that?

If you are anything like my, you might have assumed this had something to do with sending someone to hell. That your actions of good will serve to highlight their deeds of evil and justice will eventually come to them.

And to tell you the truth, I’ve skipped over that verse, or ignored it, like the creators of the video did… for a long time. It doesn’t seem to fit with the rest of the scripture.

But one day, I learned about what it really meant to pile burning coals of fire on someone’s head.

As we just explored with our children, we need fire to cook our food. We need fire to warm our houses. Fire can seal up wounds and provides light in the darkness.

In the ancient world, a fire meant the difference between life and death.

So what happens when your fire goes out?

Without resources to start a fire again, you would have to go begging with your fire bowl, and pray that someone would take pity on you, and share some burning coals from their own fire with you.

Feed the hungry. Give drink to the thirsty. Pile burning coals upon even your enemies heads.

We have been called to serve. We have been challenged by Jesus Christ throughout the gospels to step out of our comfort zones and to give of ourselves to others. Even if they don’t look like us or talk like us… even if they are our enemies.

But this call doesn’t start with the Paul or the gospels…. It goes back to the beginning.

Moses was called… through fire… to help set the people free.

He was an ordinary guy, living in extraordinary times. He was the child of a slave. He was a murderer. He stuttered. And yet God got his attention through a burning bush and called him to serve.

God’s power transformed his weakness into strength. And through God’s power the people were freed.

Moses just had to show up.

Today, we are going to hear some stories of folks from this church, who were called to serve in Omaha this summer. I hope you will hear that they are ordinary folks, just like you. But they heard the tug on their heart to go, to serve, to feed the hungry, and build houses for those who were struggling. They heard the call to pile burning coals on a neighbor’s head… to help make sure they have everything they need to survive.

Along the way, they changed lives… but I hope you will also listen for how they were changed.

[sharing from members of our mission team]

The call to serve is not just for some people in the church. It is for all people. There are thousands of ways to serve.

This week, we have a special opportunity to serve and feed the hungry through Meals From the Heartland’s annual Hunger Fight. On Wednesday afternoon from 2-4 pm, we will be taking a group of 30 from the church to pack meals for those who are hungry.

We still need lots of volunteers, so if you can give a few hours to change lives… please sign up as you leave!

In two weeks, we are going to fill out our time and talents sheets. But before they show up in your bulletin, I pray that God would light a fire in your life. It might not be as dramatic as a burning bush, but wherever you feel your heart strangely warmed… wherever something out of the ordinary catches your attention… wherever you sense like you could make a difference (as ordinary as you might be)… listen.

Listen to that call to love, serve, and pray. Listen for where God is trying to get your attention.

My prayer is that as you offer yourself up for service, the fires of God’s love will transform this church, this community, and this world. And that God would transform your life, too.

Fire does that you know.

It takes what is ordinary and transforms it.