hope – Page 5 – Salvaged Faith

All Will Be Well

Posted on September 25, 2012Leave a comment

: by ClearlyCassidy

Julian of Norwich, in a time of doubt and struggle, wrote: All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.

This is my last column in the Circuit Rider because on October 1, I will be beginning a new journey as the Coordinator for Imagine No Malaria with the Iowa Annual Conference. It is a long job title but a very short and intense ministry that I am very excited about beginning.

My new position will take me across the state, working with clergy and laity, young and old, small churches and the biggest churches, as we together raise funds to end death and suffering from malaria by 2015. While it might seem like only an outreach project, the truth is, I understand this campaign to be something bigger in the life of our Iowa Annual Conference of the UnitedMethodistChurch. Working together on this effort will help us build bridges between conservative and liberal sides of our church. Focusing outward on mission and partnering with our community to raise funds through health fairs and 5k runs and lemonAID stands will help us build relationships outside the walls and revitalize our churches. That is something that YOU have experienced here in Marengo. As we turned our hearts to both local and global mission, the Holy Spirit moved in and a spark of love and light ignited in this church.

When I came here to Marengo, neither you nor I knew what to expect. There is a song that I played frequently in those days to myself called “All Will Be Well” by the Gabe Dixon Band.

The new day dawns, / and I’m practicing my purpose once again. / it is fresh and it is fruitful if I win but if I lose, / Ooooo I don’t know. / I will be tired but I will turn and I will go, / Only guessing til I get there then I’ll know, / Oh oh oh I will know.

I was fresh out of seminary and you were ready to become a fruitful church… but we didn’t know it was going to work between us. It was a wild guess on our parts… but something amazing for God’s part.

All the children walking home past the factories / could see the light that’s shining in my window as I write this song to you. / All the cars running fast along the interstate / can feel the love that radiates / illuminating what I know is true / All will be well. / Even after all the promises you’ve broken to yourself, / All will be well. / You can ask me how but only time will tell.

I don’t know what God has in store for this church… but I know that God will be with you and all shall be well. I know that God has led you to embrace an amazing mission: to reflect the light of God in Marengo and Iowa County as you step out into the world and pass it on. I know that the Holy Spirit has been moving strongly in your midst and that God will not leave you or forsake you. I know that all will be well. You can ask me how, but only time will tell.

Keep it up and don’t give up / and chase your dreams and you will find / all in time.

You are my first church… and I love you dearly and I will miss you terribly… but all shall be well. Keep your hearts focused on what God has called you to do. Give your lives to living out that vision. God bless you all.

Hosanna!

Posted on April 1, 2012Leave a comment

In my flower garden this spring, I have learned the difference between joy and happiness.

You see, happiness is getting a bouquet of a dozen tulips from your spouse or from a friend and setting them on the counter for a few days. It warms your heart to be thought of, they are beautiful to look at, and it doesn’t take any work to enjoy them. It is a pleasant surprise, and unexpected wonder. That is happiness.

But joy is “refined and thoughtful,” (in the words of Scott Hoezee) “because it has passed through death.” Joy persists through suffering. Joy persists through doubt. Joy enables us to look at the cross and still shout, “Hosanna!”

And unlike the fleeting happiness of a bouquet of flowers, a bed full of tulips that you dug by hand and then planted with care… and then spent a whole winter waiting for… is a true experience of joy.

There were moments in the waiting where I worried nothing would happen. Maybe I had planted the bulbs too deep. Maybe not deep enough. Maybe the weather did not get cold enough for them to really do their thing. Maybe the squirrels would dig them up. Maybe the nursery I ordered them from was a scam and the bulbs were duds. A thousand different what if’s could flow through your mind in that long time of waiting, watching and hoping.

And then the miracle occurs. The bulbs start to peek out of the ground. The colors start to emerge from the buds. And before you know it, you are caught in the glorious joy of color and life and aroma that sustains much longer than a simple bouquet… and has the calluses to prove the work and the pain and the sweat that preceded it.

This distinction between joy and happiness is important as we think about this Palm Sunday and the Easter Sunday that is close on its heels. Because today, we erupted with singing and happy songs and Jesus is enteringJerusalemand maybe you, like the people on the road that morning, are surprised by the light spirit of it all. You join in and you wave your palm branches and sing with the children and it feels good.

But what we experience on Palm Sunday isn’t costly. It is cheap and easy happiness. It is unexpected. It is a surprise. It is happy… but it is not joyful.

No, the true joy comes with Easter Sunday. The true joy comes after we have done the hard work and walked the long journey to the cross. The true joy comes after we have planted all of our hopes and fears into the tomb… waiting, hoping beyond hope that there just might be a possibility of life in the midst of death. The true joy of Easter is everlasting, sustained, and does not disappoint.

In contrast, this morning will seem like a wilted bouquet of flowers forgotten on the kitchen counter… the happiness of today simply cannot compare. You see, at the same time as we are shouting – Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! We are also saying the word, “Hosanna.” We are crying out for God to save us. We know that the elation we are experiencing is only temporary… we know that there is still work to do.

In fact, ever since I have been here, I have shied away from celebrating Palm Sunday alone. It is too cheery and happy clappy in light of everything that we are about to experience during this next week. And too often, folks will skip straight from the happiness of today to the joy of Easter without experiencing any of the difficult road.

So on most Sundays we have included the Passion texts and have really spent some time with the story of Jesus’ last week. We sat with him through dinner, we pray at Golgotha, we experience his trial and visit Herod, we walk the streets ofJerusalemto the crucifixion. We jam pack it all into one hour on a Sunday morning so that we at least will have had a glimpse of the cost of the grace we are offered.

But this year, we are walking this road with Jesus. Our Lenten devotions this week in particular take us through each of the days this last week of Christ’s life. (And if you haven’t picked one up or used one up until now, feel free to join in for this last week!)

We also have three opportunities to worship and experience Holy Week and to spend time with Jesus. Our usual Wednesday evening worship is at 6:30pm and we will also celebrate Maundy Thursday at 7:00pm in the fellowship Hall and Good Friday with other local churches at Trinity UCC at 7:00pm on Friday night. A carpool will be leaving our church at 6:20 for those who are interested in joining us.

So let’s enjoy today for what it is – a triumphant entry – an unexpected surprise – a momentary glimpse of joy, of hope, a glimmer of happiness.

1) The happiness you experience when you catch a glimpse of someone from God. The people shouted, “Blessed is the One who comes in the name of the Lord.” And we too have experienced people in our lives who are from God. Who bless us for a moment or two… who exemplify what it means to reflect the light of God… who have helped to make our days brighter and our roads easier.

2) Catch a glimpse of a way out – a way of peace and not violence. Jesus on the colt vs. Pontius Pilate and a Roman processional coming into Jerusalem.

3) Catch a glimpse of salvation

Story of the 7^th graders from Dr. Scott Black Johnson… big picture we know salvation is about hell/ life and death… but in the meantime, there are all sorts of things we need saving from. Sometimes we catch a glimpse of hope on a tough day… a reminder that Jesus can calm our fears… the feeling of peace in the midst of stress.

These tulips this morning are beautiful… but like our shouts of Hosanna on Palm Sunday they will wither away… they are unexpected and surprising but they are not permanent. Maybe by the end of the week, our cries of Hosanna will turn into cries of “Crucify Him!” Maybe by the end of the week, we will find ourselves at the foot of the cross. Maybe at the end of hte week, we will find ourselves staring into a tomb… but let us walk this last week with Jesus – both the good and the bad – so that we can experience the true joy of Easter Sunday – a joy that lasts… a joy that endures through even suffering… a joy that comes from Jesus.

Amen and Amen.

Feasting, not fasting…

Posted on February 23, 2012Leave a comment

Mark’s gospel is known for its haste. Jesus is here and then there and everything is so urgent and busy. We spent four weeks in Epiphany just in chapter one because everything happens in such a short span of time. Life is all crammed in and there is no time for details.

That could also describe my entry into the Lenten season. In a whirlwind of activity and meetings and work and hospital visits and writing, there wasn’t time to breathe! I think on Ash Wednesday I actually might have had two pots of coffee just to get me through. Go, go, go. Rush, rush, rush.

But then, we got to worship. Everything was finally set and we were sharing in familiar liturgy, age old hymns, quiet moments of reflection and confession and challenge.

We had 27 people in worship that evening… And while that might not sound like a lot, it was double what we had any other year I’ve been around. As people began to trickle in, as they came forward and I placed those ashes on each of their foreheads, as we broke the bread and shared the cup, it felt like home. A family gathered to remember we are human. A family gathered to say that we were sorry. A family gathered to start putting our lives back together… Together.

We always have a meal after Wednesday worship and before youth group starts, so we told folks to bring a dish to share. We feasted together on Ash Wednesday, and it never felt more right. Marked with the ashes, we knew we were mortal. We knew we had fallen short. But we also couldn’t stay there because the good news of God was also our story that night.

I sat with a couple who ocasionally attend our church – when they aren’t off being caregivers for aging parents. We shared stories. We talked about our hopes for the young people all around us. And they shared with me that even in these last few months, something is happening in our church. God is moving and the excitement and eagerness is building.

I learned two things last night.

1) all that rushing and moving was worth it. There is urgency in what we are doing because it is important and there is not a moment to waste

2) but we also have to stop and remember why. We have to slow our hearts and really listen.

Ash Wednesday has always had such a somber and holy and serious personality in my practice and theology. It was a day of darkness and despair, wailing and pleading.

But last night, when I stopped to look at all of us gathered around those tables in fellowship, I realized just how joyous Lent can be.

We trust in a God who brings light out of darkness, life out of death, strengh from weakness. I know, liturgically we have a few weeks to sit in our repentance… But God is good… All the time.

So pass the pie, and the baked beans, and the pistacio salad… Happy Lent!

Salt and Light

Posted on March 20, 2011Leave a comment

This morning, we seem an awfully long ways from the Kingdom of God.

Yesterday – eight years to the day since we sent forces to Iraq, we began bombing in Libya.

Unrest in Bahrain, Yemen, and other countries in the middle east is being showed on our airwaves.

Earthquakes.

Tsunamis

Nuclear reactors having problems.

Where is the Kingdom of God?!

It doesn’t matter if they are man-made problems, or natural disasters… it is hard to look outside and not tremble a little.

So, what do we do on a morning like this?

What is the church’s role?

This morning we look at the second section of Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount.

In “The Message” translation, Eugene Peterson, starts off these verses with these words:

Let me tell you why you are here…

You see, this whole sermon is full of instructions for the people of God. It reminds us of the attitudes we are supposed to carry with us into the world, like Charlotte shared with us last week. And it tells us what we are supposed to do – how we are supposed to live.

Today’s passage is all about our witness in the world.

We are here – the church is here – to season this world… to be salt.

I know that some of us here can’t always have salt, because of dietary restrictions, and perhaps you know better than all the rest of us about how useful salt is!

When you sprinkle salt on watermelon or on tomatoes – the flavor of those fruits become brighter and more crisp! When salt is added to soup, it becomes rich and deep. When we sprinkle salt onto roasted vegetables, or French fries…. Mmmm…

Salt takes what is already there and it brings out the flavors. It helps us to taste what was hidden.

That is our job as the church. We are supposed to point to the hidden work of God in this world and bring it out. We are supposed to help the world see and taste and experience God – even though they can’t always see him.

So, with all of the difficult and troubling things happening in our world today – how can we, as the church, help people to experience God?

First, we can point to the good news in each of these situations. We can lift up the stories of hope and life.

This morning, for example, two people were pulled out of the rubble in Japan. An 80 year old woman and her 16 year old grandson had been trapped under her house for nine days following the earthquake and tsunami. According to CNN, the boy had crawled through portions of the rubble and made it on to the roof where rescuers finally saw him.

Nine days they had been trapped… but they survived. That is a story of life in the midst of destruction. And remembering those stories, pointing to those stories, telling those stories to our friends and our neighbors help us to remember that there is hope even in desperate situations. And as we tell that story, we can share the source of our hope – Jesus Christ.

Second, salt only works if it is actually being used… if it makes contact with its food… and so as people of faith, we need to be out in the world, helping folks, praying with them, listening to their stories.

In Japan, United Methodists had eight missionaries, six full-time mission volunteers and several retired missionaries on the ground when the earthquake first struck. But our United Methodist Committee on Relief also was quick to the scene to provide health kits, food, shelter and other necessities. The Wesley Center, affiliated with the United Methodist Women, is housing fifty displaced people in its guest rooms and meeting rooms.

All of that on the ground work there is possible only because we take seriously our call to be out in the world.

But it doesn’t just happen half way across the world through the work of missionaries. It also happens in our backyard. Every time you attend a youth sporting event or concert… Every time you mow your neighbors lawn, every time you sit down and have coffee with someone in town, you are like salt, bringing out the God flavor in this community. You are letting people know they are important, that they matter, and that you – and God – are there.

Jesus continues on in his sermon by putting this message another way – you are here in this world to be light – to help the world see God. This faith of ours is not a secret to be kept locked up – its meant to be made public – its meant to shine out wide and far.

So the third thing we need to do is to point to God not just in our personal and private relationships, but in public as well.

We can’t keep the good news hidden away. We can’t keep the power of God’s transformative love under a basket. We have to let it shine.

Sometimes, that light shines in the darkness and we help the world to see where people are broken and hurting. When we do this, we are public prophets, reminding people of God’s intention for our lives together.

A deacon in our United Methodist Church has heard this calling and uses music to raise awareness about the realities of human trafficking and slavery in our modern times. Carl Thomas Gladstone’s Abolitionist Hymnal helps to shed light on some very dark realities in our world. Through music, the light of Christ is shining so that others might be moved to action.

Sometimes, we are bring words of hope and comfort on a much larger scale, like when people gather together in a prayer vigil – their candles lighting up the darkness.

And sometimes that happens in political advocacy as well. This week, Utah passed some rather startling immigration reform. Although Utah is a conservative state, they have passed a law that creates a new guest-worker program. Anyone who has worked in Utah and their immediate family can receive documents if they pass a background check and pay a fine for entering the country illegally. But this law would never have passed if the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints did not speak up. There are a large number of mormons in Utah, and as they have done missions work, they believed there was another way to respond to strangers and foreigners in our midst. Another way that was biblical and based in love. As one state senator said – “If the church had been silent, the bill wouldn’t have passed.”

Protesting, bumper stickers, the clothes you wear, the places you visit, the types of people you eat with in public… all of these things tell the world something about you… AND the God who you claim to follow.

Lastly, this whole message about salt and light is a reminder that we need to stand together as people of faith and be a witness in this world.

A few Sundays ago, we had a translation lesson. I reminded all of you about how poorly the English language handles second person plural words.

Well, that same problem comes up again today in the sermon on the mount.

Jesus isn’t just talking to you… or you… or you. Jesus is talking to all of us together.

Ya’ll are the salt of the earth. Ya’ll are the light of the world.

You together, all of you, working with one another, standing with one another, Ya’ll are my witness.

Whether it is on the streets of Libya or the countrysides in Japan, the alleys in Marengo or the farmland by Kostza… we are called to be salt and light. We are called to point to God.

It doesn’t matter if everything in the world is alright or everything is falling to pieces… that is our calling.

To pray, to work, to serve, to love, to listen, to speak… out there… in the world… on behalf of God.

May we be salt. May we be light.

Amen.

what we are saved from matters – or – what if Rob Bell has a point?

Posted on February 28, 20114 Comments

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I’m just a small voice, but I have a two cents to add to the pot on this whole “Rob Bell Universalism” controversy.

Before his book is even out, folks are making all kinds of assumptions about what it says. And there are probably enough indicators in the youtube preview of “Love Wins” that you can say a whole lot.

But I want to back the question up a little bit.

What I think Bell is pointing out is that soteriology matters. What we believe we are saved from is important. Who is saving us means something. What that process of redemption entails determines a whole lot about how we treat other people and how we live our lives.

Soteriology matters.

If God has already condemned all of us to a place called Hell because of the actions of a man and a women in a garden thousands of years ago… and then God saves us from that condemnation… we might think and act and worship a certain way.

If, however, our actions then and our continued actions now are themselves “hell-making”… if we are creating the conditions of hell each and every time we hurt one another through our action and inaction and if we dishonor our relationship with our Lord by turning towards the darkness rather than the light… then salvation looks different. Then, maybe Christ saves us from ourselves… and then the Spirit empowers and sanctifies us to live the way God intended.

There are subtle differences in those two concepts (and they are only two among many!), but the differences are important.

Historically we have at least three major ways of understanding what Christ does for us: Christus Victor, Substitutionary Atonement, and the Moral Example theories of Abelard. All three have a basis in scripture. All three say something very different about what is wrong with humanity, about what hell looks like, and about how salvation is imparted into our personal and corporate lives.

Last summer, my congregation and I explored these various understandings of atonement and found all three of them interwoven in the book of Hebrews. Christ is the priest who lays down his life as the final and perfect sacrifice. Christ is the prophet who calls us to a different way of life. Christ is the king who triumphs over the lesser kings of this world and conquers for us.

It gets complicated… but it matters. Where we end up on these questions of salvation change how we interact with our brothers and sisters in this world. It changes our relationship with the one who does the saving.

And, I might also add, our inability to fully understand and agree about salvation ultimately says more about us than it does about God.

As I read the “good book” from beginning to end… as I look at the scope and span of the scriptures… no matter how we fail and get it wrong, no matter how strong the forces for darkness are in this world – in the end, love does win.

That is the firm hope that I stand on.

If God doesn’t win… if love and life and light don’t have the final say, then all is for naught.

I have many good friends who are reformed theologians of the Calvinist flavor. And I understand their predilection towards preserving the sovereignty of God Almighty.

But what I want to know is why can’t that preservation of God’s sovereignty also leave space for the hope that God’s power is so great that it can transform and redeem everything?

Jurgen Moltmann once said in regards to claims he might be a universalist:

I’m not a Universalist because there are some people I don’t want to see again – but God created them and would certainly like to see them again. Universalism is not only to speak about all human beings, but to speak about the universe, the stars and the moon and the sun and the whole cosmos.

If I were to summarize Moltmann’s statement it would go: I’m not a Universalist, but God might be.

Moltmann reminds us that at the end of the day, this is God’s story… not ours. Who are we to tell God who can be saved and who cannot? Who are we to limit the story of salvation to humans or a sharp distinction between a place called heaven and a place called hell?

When I read Revelation and Isaiah and whole host of other scriptures… I find a story in which not only people, but the whole creation groans for salvation. I am invited into a story of recreation, of redemption, a story where a new heaven and a new earth are realized and where God dwells among us. And the way I read the story… love does win.

How we get there matters… but what really matters that the one who made us wants to redeem us… and has the power to do so.

running low on the compassion reserves

Posted on November 28, 2010Leave a comment

One of the reasons I have been avoiding blogging lately is because I have a lot of things I would love to write about, but I can’t.

A couple are topics and discussions that are confidential on a professional level. Some are just things that hit too close to home for myself and I’m not willing/able to take that leap of faith and just put out there for all to read what is close to my heart. They are things I need to deal with in person before I am able to properly reflect upon them. Or maybe I really do just need to take that leap, get over the fear, and put it in writing. Leave it out there and maybe that will give me the courage to have the harder face to face conversations I have been putting off.

What I am able to talk about is the touchy subject of financial outreach.

Everyone I talk to has their own take on how to best provide real financial resources to folks in need and in the past few weeks I have whittled the differences down to three categories:

1) Contributions to a community fund that pastors then refer folks to. This method is very connectional, allows for a sharing of resources, and takes the burden off of any one congregation or pastor… especially if they are not the ones actually managing the funds.

2) Congregational “Love Funds.” This money is held by a particular congregation, folks make donations to it and disbursement is at the discretion of the pastor.

3) Connections to outside agencies and networks of support. This takes a lot of legwork and knowledge by the pastor to have these contacts built up in the first place when the need arises.

4) Personal time/energy/money. Every now and then there is someone who needs a tank of gas or a meal and when we can and are able – pastors are extremely generous folks. As a colleague wrote me: what is needed and is it within my capacity to meet that need? I know of a lot of folks who go above and beyond and their mental health, energy and family suffer for it… your capacity is a lot different than your wallet.

These past two months, I am realizing how small the tanks actually are when it comes to financial assisance in our area.

I recently became the treasurer for our county ministerial fund and as soon as the cold weather hit, our funds went out faster than they could replenish themselves. We are at the point now where we can only provide assistance when we recieve a new donation, and the need really is great out there.

Our local community fund has resources, but we have limitations on how those resources can be used. Time and energy need to go into revamping our guidelines and extending our reach… yet at the same time, as soon as we do so, I know that they will be used and gone. Used for good of course, but used all the same.

My congregational fund is not yet a separate and distinct account from the rest of our finances… I am not entirely sure how previous pastors handled the situation, but since I have been there I have budgeted for a set discretionary assistance amount. I think we exceeded the amount budgeted halfway through the year and asked for a bit more to be set aside… but even if we had ten times the amount of money, we would still have folks we would need to turn away.

I reached the point recently where I almost cashed in my paycheck and gave half of it to someone who really needed it… I’m young, I have a roof over my head, I thought… but I also have a marriage to think of, and my own bills to pay (higher now that our own heat is turned on), and setting myself behind isn’t going to help anyone in the long run.

I felt so guilty that we couldn’t do more as a church or as a community. I felt personally guilty. I didn’t want to call and say no.

I think I was feeling convicted by the idea from James that if you say you will pray for someone who is hungry but don’t give them any food, then you aren’t doing anything for them.

But I think I reached a place this past week where I realized that we already were giving so much. Even if it wasn’t the money needed to pay the bills, we were giving of our time. We were praying. We were listening. We were connecting. We were building relationships. We were doing what we could with what we had. And even extending ourselves beyond those points. We were sharing the love of Christ with folks as much as we could.

Money isn’t everything. Sometimes it feels like that, but its not.

This Sunday, we lit the first candle on the advent wreath as a reminder that the hope of the world is Christ and Christ alone. Not a bank account. Not a fundraiser. Not a paid bill. But Christ.

And things out there are tough – all around they are tough. People are hurting because of broken relationships and they are struggling because of a lack of work and lack of funds. They are angry with systems that fail them and they are disappointed in the outcome of their work. And we sit and wallow in this muck and in the words of Rob Bell: yell at the darkness for being dark.

Sunday – we preached texts that told us to wake up. To stop lingering in the dark and to look towards the light. To remember that our salvation does not lie in these things. To live in the light of Christ right now. To be a community. To walk together. To live right now as if Christ had come again.

And when we do that… we have the strength to answer the phone call when the next creditor calls. We have the peace in our hearts that enables us to hold the hand of a loved one and tell them goodbye one last time. We can let go of the guilt and simply love the best we can, right here and right now.

Hope… that next year things will be different

Posted on November 28, 2010Leave a comment

Keep awake! Get ready! Prepare yourselves!

These are the words that fly at us from the scriptures on this first Sunday of Advent.

But get ready for what?

Light? Dawn? The son of Man?

Yes. Yes. And Yes.

Get ready for the hope of the world…

Will you pray with me? (adapted from Thom Shuman)

Lord of all:
you are as close to us as the breath in our lungs:
helping us to treat everyone with honor and respect;
healing us with serenity in these days of stress;
taking us by the hand to walk us home to the kingdom.
teach us all we need to know,
if we will but open our hearts, and listen to yours.
Help us to quit working the night shift in sin’s sweat shops,
but to dance in the Light of Advent joy.

How many of you have ever had a bad day? What about a bad week? Or a whole year?

Life is downright tough sometimes. It is unfair. It is cruel. We finally find the job we have been searching for, and then our spouse gets laid off. A misunderstanding destroys a friendship. Natural disasters wipe homes off the map. Children go hungry. And sometimes in the midst of all of the problems that we face in this world… the trials and the tribulations… it feels like God turns his back towards us.

And so, sometimes, in our frustrating times… in the days that seem without hope… we turn our backs on God.

We look for salvation in every place but the right place.

We look for things that will make us feel better – we self medicate with drugs and shopping sprees.

We turn towards the darkness and yell at it for being so dark.

And we continue to feel alone, and empty, and lost.

Have you ever been there? Yelling at the darkness? Do you know how much energy it takes to fight with something like “darkness”?

When I think back on the tough times that I have been through in my life… and as I have listened to folks share their own stories… the thing that finally got them out of the rut, out of that dark place, was that they woke up.

Whether or not the situation changed, they woke up. They started living their lives differently. They took stock of what was really important. They stopped being mad at the dark and started trying to let their own light shine.

It seems contrite to say that there are two ways of looking at world – either as a glass half-full or a glass half-empty… but maybe it really is as simple as that.

Either the world is a place of darkness or it is a place where the light of God dwells…

Either God has abandoned us or God is working out a plan of salvation.

Either Christ’s work is done or soon and very soon the Son of Man is coming…

Can you hear the difference in those statements?

Are we going to live as a people of the light?

Or are we going to let the dark overcome us?

That is our choice.

That is why the prophets and the apostles cry out – Keep Awake! Get Ready! Prepare Yourselves!

Stop living in the darkness, they keep saying: Let us walk in the light of the Lord!

Let us put on Christ, let us trim our lamps, lets get ready!

Sounds great… but how?

First to live in the light of hope, we need to stop living in the darkness. We need to let go off everything that bogs us down and drains us. In the words of the apostle Paul: we can’t afford to waste a minute, we must not squander these precious hours of daylight in frivolity and indulgence, in sleeping around, in bickering and grabbing everything in sight. Get out of bed and get dressed!

I want you to take a minute and think about one thing that you can do differently this Advent season as you prepare for Christmas. What something that you can do that will renew your hope and your faith… instead of depleting your energy and your bank account? Maybe instead of spending all day on Saturday shopping for the perfect present, you will take some time next Saturday morning to have coffee and devotions with someone you have not spent time with lately… Whatever it is – Talk for a moment with someone near you about something you can do to “Wake Up!” this season.

Second: We have to remember that living in hope isn’t something that we have to do alone.

We all know Pollyannas and Susy Sunshines in our lives… people who are perpetually happy and optimistic. And sometimes their hopefulness is a little annoying because it doesn’t seem real, it doesn’t seem possible.

I’m not asking you to go out and look at all of the bad things in the world and pretend that they aren’t there.

Instead, to live in hope, means that we surround ourselves with people who can help us find a way out of the darkness.

When folks have a tough time, one of the first places they turn is the church. And that is because we are known for our love and our generosity. We are known for our compassion. We are known for being a people who let our light shine.

So when you are having a tough time – when you are having a hard time finding hope – then turn to those people around you who can hope for you. I know that we are a bunch of proud, do-it-yourself, hardworking midwesterners… but sometimes you need to be able to say, I need help. What better place to turn when you have no where else to go than to the people of hope?

And when you are able – you can in turn be hope for others.

We don’t do this very often, but this morning, I want to pass around our special offering basket.

There are a number of people in our community who need an extra bit of help right now. They need to see a sign of hope that next year can and will be different.

A number of our community funds are low and it is hard to give everyone the kind of assistance they need. But you can help. You can remind others that they are not alone this Christmas. You can be hope for someone through your giving right now, right here.

Lastly, to live in hope, we need to keep God at the center of it all. We need to keep the word and the path in front of us. When we take the time to seek the light of the world– then no darkness that comes will ever be able to put that light out.

I want to invite our children to come back up here and to bring their papers.

We talked about hope and transformation earlier and I asked them to help me out this morning. So they took these white sheets of paper and colored on them with white crayons.

And we wrote HOPE on these pages, didn’t we. We drew things that brought us hope.

We put the HOPE of Christ first… we put God first… so let’s see what happens when dark and cloudy and stormy times come.

(painted the white pages with white crayon with dark water based paint)

*gasp* what happened?

All of that hope keeps shining through, doesn’t it! All of the stuff that we thought was hidden and hard to see is there! And none of this darkness can take that away, can it?

Hope is sometimes hard to see. It is sometimes hard to imagine what a difference it can make in our lives. But I know that it has made a difference in my life… and I want to share with you the story of a young woman in Africa who lives in hope.

Setting the Table: The Cup

Posted on October 17, 2010Leave a comment

On a brutally hot afternoon, a lone woman makes the long trek from her village to the nearby well. She brings with her an empty jug. All of the other women had come out to draw up the water early in the morning – before the sunlight would beat down upon the earth. All of the other women had come out together to gossip and laugh, to share stories and to work. But not her. No, this lone women was more likely to be the subject of their gossip and their stories. She was more likely to be laughed at. So instead, she preferred the company of the radiant sun, the dust in the air, she preferred to risk facing whatever dangers might await her alone than to face her peers.

On a brutally hot afternoon, a lone woman walks to a well with an empty jug… and there she meets the source of life and life abundant.

So many times have we heard the story of this Samaritan woman and her chance meeting at the well with Jesus. So many times have we talked about how Christ broke through so many barriers – religious, gender, social barriers – to speak to her, to show this woman love. So many times have we marveled at the transformation in her life as she ran back to the village – to those same women she avoided every day – to share the good news.

So many times we tell this story and we walk away feeling warm and fuzzy… another life saved…

But we forget that one day on a brutally hot afternoon, a lone woman made a long trek from her village to the nearby well… and her jug was empty.

We forget that before the good news there was pain. There was heartache. There was desperation. We forget that a woman was yearning for a God who seemed absent. We forget that a community shut another person out and refused to invite her in. We forget the sting of judgment. We forget the bitterness of disappointment in herself and in her husbands.

Before the good news of living water… there was thirst.

When we set the table this morning with a glass, it is because we, too, are thirsty. We, too, are waiting for God’s spirit of love and compassion and healing to fill our lives.

When we bring this empty glass to the table, it is because we are thirsty.

Or if we are not thirsty today, we have been in the past.

We have experienced pain and disappointment and mistrust in the past. We have experienced the drought of faith when our lives were too busy for God. We have experienced dry and brittle seasons of prayer when God seemed absent. We have been alone and lost in the wilderness when others that we thought we trusted turned their backs on us. Maybe the well itself was blocked because your family or work… maybe you abandoned going to the well of God’s love because you no longer felt like you belonged.

And as much as we wish that didn’t happen in the church – it has. No matter how faithful we try to be, we are human and we make mistakes, and this body of Christ has suffered in the past.

But just as last week, we remembered that God can set a table of plenty even in the wilderness – we remember today, that Christ offers us living water… even in the midst of a brutal and painful drought.

I want you to take those cards that you have been given again today.

As we prepare to come to the table… we prepare to bring ourselves… I want us to honestly come before God with empty jars and pitchers and glasses.

These cups are empty because we have experienced hurt and pain in the past. Prayerfully think of a time when this church body did not live up to it’s calling as the people of God. When have you been disappointed by this community? When have you been hurt and alone because of a divorce or the death of a loved one? Write down on a card a moment of emptiness – a moment when you were thirsting for God’s love and righteousness to fill your life and to make you whole.

We are preparing ourselves to come to the table… and that means we need to bring the full history of our church before God. Now these cards can be turned in anonamously – you don’t have to put your name on them or the full details of the situation. But make note at the very least of a time when you felt empty and dried up… I was hurt. I was disappointed. And as we add to the timeline of our church we created in 2008, I want to ask you to include the year or the decade that this time of emptiness came.

Take a few minutes to prayerfully write these things down.

Hang on to each one of these. Hold them in your hands.

In the book of common prayer, we hear that those who go through desolate valleys will find it a place of wells.

For those of you who wrote about a past time of drought and emptiness in your life – How many of you eventually found a deep well of God’s compassion and love?

How many of you made it through that dry time?

How many of you experienced the outpouring of grace and with joy can now draw water from the wells of salvation… show of hands.

As the woman at the well was reminded… sometimes in our darkest moments, Christ speaks to us. And he offers living water like a spring that will gush up to eternal life. There is plenty. There is hope. There is comfort. There is salvation.

For those of you who raised your hands… part of that healing was finding community once again. Like the woman at the well, you were able to return or fully participate again in the life of Christ through this church… and we are so glad that you have =)

And for those of you who are still carrying around empty jugs and glasses… hear these words from the prophet Isaiah – Come, everyone who thirsts. Come to the waters. You that have no money; come…. Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. (Isaiah 55:1)

Come and wait for God with us. Bring your true selves. Bring your struggles and disappointments… because in those places too, God speaks. Bring your empty glasses and wait with us at the table. God promises to hear us. God promises to speak to us.

“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout… so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty. “

God has a word for us. It is a word of restoration and healing. It is a word of comfort and peace. And that word is waiting for us to come. To come and to listen. To open our hears and our hearts to receive it. Place your empty cup on the table…. Come.