humility – Salvaged Faith

UMC 101: Our Theological Task and the Quadrilateral

Posted on January 30, 2022Leave a comment

Text: 1 Corinthians 13:1-13

Over the last several weeks, we have been exploring what it means to be United Methodist.

We’ve talked about some of the core beliefs we affirm, how we came to get our distinctive United Methodist flavor by emphasizing faith and love in action, and both standards for teaching those core beliefs… but also the love, grace, and humility that leaves room for opinions and difference around practices and positions.

After all, as our scripture for this morning reminds us – we could have all the right answers, and do all the right things but if we don’t love – we are nothing.

As long as we seek to love God and love our neighbors, we can join hands for God’s work in the world.

Does that mean that anything else goes?

Absolutely not.

I shared with you last week from a portion of John Wesley’s sermon, “Catholic Spirit,” in which we talked about those core essential things and how love gives us guidance for how we relate to others who disagree.

But he is very clear at the end of that sermon that holding such a charitable spirit that leaves room for others does not mean you are indifferent to other’s opinions.

And, it doesn’t mean that you are unclear in your own thoughts, practices, or community, “driven to and fro, and tossed about with every wind of doctrine.” (“Catholic Spirit”, John Wesley’s Sermons: An Anthology, p. 307)

In fact, he says if you have a sort of “muddy understanding” with “no settled, consistent principles” that “you have quite missed your way…” (p. 308).

In other words, do your work.

Take responsibility for what you believe, how you act, and the community to which you belong.

Don’t simply parrot what someone before you has taught, or change your perspective when a new pastor comes along.

You are responsible for diving into the gospel of Jesus and figuring out what impact it has on the world.

This is the work of theological reflection.

A theologian is anyone who studies God.

Now, I am a theologian. I have a Masters of Divinity from Vanderbilt University and spent three and a half years studying scripture and ancient texts and history and the thoughts of other theologians.

But YOU are a theologian, too.

A theologian is anyone who “reflects upon God’s gracious action in our lives.” (BoD, p.80)

And United Methodists believe that every single one of us is called to this work.

Every generation has to wrestle with what it means to be faithful in a changing world.

We have to figure out how to communicate the good news of our faith to people who are hurting and lost and broken.

But we also need to figure out how to see the problems and challenges around us like the climate crisis or sexual abuse or global migration and ask what our response should be.

And to do that, we need more than just the basic teachings of our faith, or doctrines.

Doctrine is important, because it helps us remember the core of Christian truth in ever-changing contexts… But our task is to test, renew, elaborate, and apply those teachings in the world.

You see, we take the love of Christ for this world and we figure out how to share and live out that love right here and right now.

There are a couple of important things that the United Methodist Church believes are important to remember, and I think that we can think about these through the description of love that the Apostle Paul offers to us in his letter to the Corinthians.

First, as we do this, we should be willing both take apart and put together our understanding of faith in love. In other words, don’t strut around with a big head forcing your beliefs on others, but ask if this position is still true, credible, and based in love. At the same time, we should always be looking forward for where new truth is flowering and helping to creatively put together a message for tomorrow.

Second, the work of theology is both your responsibility and our responsibility. It is about “plain truth for plain people” – every Christian… young and old alike, is called to grow and learn about how to follow God into this world. But we also believe that it is in our conversation and sharing and work together that all of our individual reflections are strengthened. This is why we come together at our church conferences, and annual, jurisdictional and general conferences to make decisions. Like a love that isn’t always “me first” and that cares for others more than self, we believe everyone has something to contribute and we should be aware of how everyone is impacted.

Third, this work of reflection has to be grounded in what God is doing in the world. We believe that God so loved this world that Jesus came to make a home among us… in a particular time and in a particular place. And we believe that God is still present in our time and in all of our diverse places. Paul tells us that love should not be envious or boastful… and I think about how important it is for us not to force a practice from one culture onto another, or for a culture to give up their own practices to be more like another.

Last year, some of us read together, “I’m Black. I’m Christian. I’m Methodist.” and were surprised by stories of how many of these black leaders felt as if they had to become more white in order to be faithful and found great strength as they reclaimed their own identity.

Finally, if we are going to connect the love of Jesus with the world, then we have to focus on what we do. We can say all the right words and have endless conversations, but as Paul would say, if we aren’t dealing with love – then we are just noisy gongs and clanging cymbals. We know what is true when we see the impact in real lives. United Methodists are all about practical divinity.

The Apostle Paul describes how our understanding of the truth changes through time as we mature and grow and put aside childish thoughts. We are continually doing our best to comprehend – knowing that today we can capture the fullness of God’s truth and love only partially.

But still we try. And we keep trying to do our best in faith, in hope, and in love.

As Paul wrote to the Philippians, we can focus our thoughts on what is excellent and true, holy and just. We can practice what we have learned and received from our mentors and teachers in the faith.

Our job as a theologian is simple: What can I say and do that is faithful to scripture as it has been passed down through tradition, and that makes sense in light of human experience and reason? (Book of Discipline, p.81)

Chalkboard with a drawing of four quadrants for scripture, tradition, reason, and experience. — From https://joshuanhook.com/2018/10/24/how-the-wesleyan-quadrilateral-helps-us-understand-god/

These four theological tools we refer to as the Wesleyan Quadrilateral.

All four are important lenses to help us see how God is working and moving in the world.

As we explored a few years ago with our Bible 101 series, scripture is at the center and is the foundation of all that we do so, we had better be reading and pouring over scripture in our lives.

But… and… scripture itself is always being interpreted.

First, scripture is interpreted by other scripture.

You cannot take a single verse out of context but need to look at the fullness of the entire passage and story.

And, we come to see as we read the bible that there is an overarching story within the scripture itself… a story of creation and redemption, a story of mistakes and forgiveness, a story that ends in the restoration of all things.

In the gospels, religious leaders ask Jesus to interpret scripture for them and his response gives us a general guide for our own interpretation: how does this verse lead us to love God and love our neighbor? (Matthew 22:34-40)

Next, we have the witness of how people have interpreted that scripture through time. Tradition shows us the “consensus of faith” that has grown out of a particular community’s experience. (p. 85-86)

Not all contexts and communities are the same. The experience of Czech immigrants in the Midwest was very different than that of African slaves in the Deep South. Each community passed on the gospel and created practices of faith that show us how the scripture made sense in their lives. We also connect tradition with the theology of previous generations that have been passed down to us in creeds and writings.

Tradition shows us how communities have understood God, but we also each have or own unique experiences.

Who you are and what you have been through is always with you when you open up the Bible – tragedies and joys, gender, economic reality…

It is why you can read the same passage of scripture repeatedly over time and discover something new with each reading.

But Wesley also talked about how God continues to be revealed through our experiences and the fruit that we are bearing in the world.

One example is how he relented to license women as preachers in the circuits after he saw the call of God bearing fruit in their ministry.

Our final tool for theology is reason. As the Book of Proverbs reminds us, each person is called to “turn your ear toward wisdom, and stretch your mind toward understanding. Call out for insight, and cry aloud for understanding. ” (Proverbs 2:2-3)

We believe God reveals truth in many places, not only in scripture, and that we should pursue such knowledge and truth with our whole selves. Science, philosophy, nature: these are all places that help us to gain understanding and sometimes reveal even deeper truths within the written word.

Why does this matter?

Because as our Book of Discipline reminds us, every day, there are new concerns “that challenge our proclamation of God’s reign over all of human existence.” (p. 88)

A black man is murdered in public on a city street by a law enforcement officer.

A derecho destroys the infrastructure of a community.

A virus takes the lives of 8,501 of our neighbors in this state.

Where is God’s justice, protection, and healing?

What does it mean to love our neighbor in light of these realities?

That is the work of theology… seeking an authentic Christian response to these realities so that the healing and redeeming love of God might be present in our words and deeds. (p.89)

As we affirm in the Book of Discipline:

“United Methodists as a diverse people continue to strive for consensus in understanding the gospel… while exercising patience and forbearance with one another. Such patience stems neither from indifference toward truth nor from an indulgent tolerance of error but from an awareness that we know only in part and that none of us is able to search the mysteries of God except by the Spirit of God. We proceed with our theological task, trusting that the Spirit will grant us wisdom…”
Book of Discipline p. 89

May it be so. Amen.

Sing! Play! Summer! – The Old Rugged Cross

Posted on June 30, 2019Leave a comment

Text: 1 Corinthians 1:18-29

A young rabbi found a serious problem in his new congregation.
During the Friday service, half the congregation stood for the prayers and half remained seated, and each side insisted that theirs was the true tradition.
Nothing the rabbi said or did moved toward solving the impasse.
Finally, in desperation, the young rabbi sought out the synagogue’s 99-year-old founder. He met the old rabbi in the nursing home and poured out his troubles.
“So tell me,” he pleaded, “was it the tradition for the congregation to stand during the prayers?”
“No,” answered the old rabbi.
”Ah,” responded the younger man, “then it was the tradition to sit during the prayers?”
“No,” answered the old rabbi.
“Well,” the young rabbi responded, “what we have is complete chaos! Half the people stand and shout, and the other half sit and scream.”
“Ah,” said the old man, “that was the tradition.”

Like that Jewish congregation of sitters and standers, one of the things that I appreciate about the people of Immanuel is that no matter what differences you have, you still come together to worship and serve.
There have been winners and losers and conflict in our history.
There have been folks who got their way and those that didn’t,
people who stayed and people who left.
Sometimes conflict appeared over silly little things.
And sometimes conflict brought to the center of our attention real problems that needed to be addressed by our whole community.

One of the things I love about turning back to these letters from Paul to the first Christian communities is that they help us remember the struggles we face today are problems people of faith have been facing for thousands of years.
There may not be much comfort in that… but at least we have good company!

Paul begins his letter to the church in Corinth by praising God for all of the potential of this amazing congregation.
But then he reminds them of the one thing that is keeping them from realizing God’s will in their midst.
“In the name of Jesus,” Paul writes, “you must get along with each other! You must learn to be considerate of one another and cultivate a life in common.” (message paraphrase)
Paul looks at this church and sees people who are wrestling for the spotlight.
He sees people who think they are right and everyone else is wrong.
He sees people who really do want to be faithful, but are going about it the wrong way.
They think to be faithful, they have to be on the “right team.”
So they pick sides.
They follow Apollos or Cephas.
They throw their lot in with Paul.
Some of them even go around saying, “to heck with all this division… I’m just going to follow Jesus!” And in doing so, they only stoke the fires of competition even more… because, isn’t everyone trying to follow Jesus? Who among us gets to claim that name more than any other?

In the worldly realm of politics, we see this all the time.
There are winners and losers on every issue.
There is competition for money and time and we don’t care who gets run over in the process.
We don’t care who our words hurt or what we do to our nation in the process.

I think about the crisis happening on our nation’s southern border.
Global Ministries and the United Methodist Committee on Relief (UMCOR) have declared today a Sunday of Solidarity with the Suffering of our Children.
They call us to pay attention, to pray, and to respond out of the love of Christ.
We need to become more aware of the devastating conditions in Latin American countries that lead families to pick up everything and risk their lives for a better opportunity.
I think about how complicated our asylum process is and how misunderstood it is by U.S. citizens.
We wrestle with the tension between security and compassion, safety and welcome and long for a solution that isn’t an either/or.
The reality is, this isn’t an issue between Democrats and Republicans, because policies of family separation began under the Obama administration and have simply been continued and enforced under Trump.
This past week, when a government lawyer argued against providing toothbrushes to children, the reality is, she was in court because of a violation of the Flores Agreement under the previous president.
We get so caught up in slinging words at one another and picking sides, that we have closed our eyes to an immoral response to this humanitarian crisis for years.
We become trapped in a cycle of blame.
We are unwilling to examine the problems in our own corner of the political spectrum.
Every side thinks it has the answer and is unwilling to listen to those who are most impacted by the decisions being enacted.

When Paul wrote to the Corinthians, he was aware that this continuous practice of win/lose partisan behavior ends up exacting a high cost.
It is not the politicians or the intellectuals or even the biblical scholars who will save us.
We won’t find our solutions by picking a side and tearing the other down.
The only answer that will really and truly bring life is found in the way of the cross.
It is sacrifice.
It is humility.
It is weakness.
It is utter foolishness.
It is everything.

George Bennard was born in Ohio, but grew up in Iowa as the son of a tavern owner and coal miner.
He came to faith as a part of a Salvation Army ministry in his early twenties and became a Methodist evangelist, traveling throughout the Midwest.
One of his journeys took him to Michigan in 1912-13 to help lead a revival and he found himself heckled and ridiculed by some young people in attendance.
Bennard felt low, shamed, let the words of those young people start to get to him…
The world doesn’t always understand the way of the cross.
But he kept his eyes on Christ and began to study and write about his experience.
The words began to flow and before long, he sat with his guitar and finished the song.

The Old Rugged Cross is an emblem of suffering and shame.
It is despised by the world.
It is full of shame and reproach.
And yet… to that very cross we are called to cling.

Paul tells that Corinthian church trapped in their conflict between who is right and wrong that they are called to become fools.
They are called to be the laughing-stocks of their community.
They are called to lay down their weapons of division and look out instead to where God is showing up in the world:
In the weak.
In the lowly.
In those who are considered nothing.
The good news that points to Christ on the Cross seems like sheer foolishness to those hellbent on destruction, but for those on the way of salvation… it makes perfect sense. (paraphrase of the Message).
The cross is what unifies us.
The cross is our standard.
The cross of Christ, his life, death and resurrection, should be the focus of all our decisions.

Faced with any conflict, we should cling to that Old Rugged Cross.
We are called to love as Christ did… sacrificially.
We are called to go to the margins, to the outcast, to the forgotten.
We are called to die to self, to leave behind security and safety in order to be in radical solidarity with others.

I think about Scott Warren, a teacher from Arizona who was arrested for leaving water and sheltering migrants from Central America in 2017.
He broke the laws of our country and found himself in prison because he took seriously the call of Christ to clothe the naked and give drink to the thirsty.
In the midst of a nation pointing fingers and arguing about laws, we are called to find a way through the chaos of difference… and the only path is through the cross.
And sometimes that makes us look like fools by worldly standards.

When we cling to the Old Rugged Cross, we allow Christ to transform us.
We become the crucified and risen body of Christ in the world…
We go to those who suffer and suffer with them.
We enter the lives of the broken and the lost to bring healing and hope.
We share our love and compassion and mercy and in doing so, we share the good news of the salvation with the world.

It is in the weak and the lowly and those the world declares are nothing that we find Christ.
So let us join our hearts in prayer…

(adapted from a prayer offered by UMCOR)
God of All Children Everywhere,
Our hearts are bruised when we see children suffering alone.
Our hearts are torn when we are unable to help.
Our hearts are broken when we have some complicity in the matter.
For all the times we were too busy and shooed a curious child away, forgive us, oh God.
For all the times we failed to get down on their level and look eye to eye with a child, forgive us, oh God.
For all the times we did not share when we saw a hungry child somewhere in the world, forgive us, oh God.
For all the times we thought about calling elected officials to demand change, but did not, forgive us, oh God.
For all the times we thought that caring for the children of this world was someone else’s responsibility, forgive us, oh God.
With Your grace, heal our hearts.
With Your grace, unite us in action.
With Your grace, repair our government and communities.
With Your grace, help us to find a way to welcome all children everywhere,
That they may know that Jesus loves them, Not just because “the Bible tells them so,”
But because we have shown them Your love in real and tangible ways,
And they know that nothing, absolutely nothing, can separate them from Your love.
May the cross of suffering and shame bring beauty and light and love and light to those who are the most in need of love.
And in loving them, in becoming fools for them, in denying ourselves and taking up Your cross, may we find life, too.
Amen.

Do What Is Good

Posted on February 18, 2018Leave a comment

I think in many ways it is a cruel irony that as we begin our Lenten series on heroes that our first pop culture example is the Dark Knight, Batman.
As a young boy, Bruce Wayne was a victim of gun violence.
In a dark alley, his parents were gunned down by a thief in front of his very eyes.
That traumatic moment forever changed the course of his life – setting him on a path to fight crime, battle evil, and protect his city.

Over the past few days, I have watched other young people, teenagers who survived the school shooting in Parkland, Florida, take up their own calling to demand change in a society in which too many lives are taken as a result of gun violence.
I read a story this morning about moms in Keosauqua here in southeast Iowa who rallied together on Thursday to raise the money to install a safety device called a sleeve in every classroom in their small school.
As one mom said, “we’re tired of it. It’s like, OK, nobody’s going to do anything about this: Our government, our state government, our national government. We’re the moms, and these are our kids. What can we do?” (https://www.desmoinesregister.com/story/news/local/columnists/kyle-munson/2018/02/16/sick-school-shootings-these-iowa-moms-took-action-single-day-make-their-kids-classrooms-safe/344133002/?hootPostID=746aea71a5583aa9b0209e37f4bdbabb)

What can we do?
When evil seems to lurk around every corner…
When the places we thought were safe become sites of terror…
When a sense of hopelessness in the ability to truly witness change starts to seep in…

Sometimes our “what can we do?” is a cry of resignation.

Where are the good guys? Where are the heroes who are going to rise up and make everything better?

And sometimes, it is a reminder that we, too, have been called to act. Our discipleship is lived out in how we answer that question.

Each of the weeks of this Lenten series, we are going to be exploring together ways we often see the world through opposing lenses: good vs. evil, right vs. wrong, insiders vs. outsiders. We divide up this world and place ourselves firmly in one camp or another.
And yet, as we think together about how Jesus comes to redeem and restore this world… how Jesus acts to save us from sin and bring us eternal live, we discover that often Jesus turns our ways of viewing the world upside down.

In fact, when a leader of the community tried to call Jesus “good” in an effort to flatter him, Jesus practically rejected the label. “Why do you call me good?” he asks in Luke chapter 18. “No one is good but God alone.”

In doing so, Jesus reminds that all that is good comes from God.
When our Creator spent six days building and forming and shaping all that we know and see, God looked out and called it good.
That isn’t because of something innate within us.
It is because we are from God.

And so, what is this evil that we promise to resist in our baptismal vows?
What is this force that opposes life and leads so many on paths of destruction?
Matt Rawle defines evil in his book, “What Makes a Hero?” as nothingness. “Evil represents a void…. Evil is a shadow that cannot stand on its own. A shadow by itself is nothing but the absence of light… made manifest when someone or something stands between us and the light of God shining through Christ.” (p. 26)

Evil is the result when we let anyone or anything stand between us and the love and power of God made manifest in this world.
Sometimes what blocks the goodness of God is our own selfishness and sin.
Sometimes it is anger and resentment.
Sometimes it is idolatry – when we take something that is on its own good or neutral in value – but elevate it to a status that blocks our ability to reason or follow God.
I think in many ways, our nation’s obsession with guns has reached the point of idolatry. Guns themselves are not good or bad, they just are… however, our unwillingness to even allow for research to be done as to the causes of such endemic gun violence means that we cannot take the actions we need to in order to curb the tide of this deadly force.

I think about how through training and technology, Bruce Wayne would put on his bat costume and watch over Gotham, but traditionally, Batman never took up a gun himself. Even as he fought night after night against the dark forces, he sought to never use deadly force in bringing justice to his city. He kept himself focused on his purpose and what he was fighting against.

As people of faith, our call is not simply call something good or evil, but to keep our eyes focused on our purpose and the source of what is truly good, God alone.
It is what Christ did as he lived out his ministry among us.
And in many ways, the blueprint for how we should live and follow his example is found in that familiar verse from the prophet Micah.

“He has told you, human one, what is good and what the Lord requires from you: to do justice, embrace faithful love, and walk humbly with your God.”
Goodness is therefore the result of a life of justice, mercy, and humility.

First, we are called to do justice.
As Jesus reaches out to teach a lawyer about how to receive eternal life, he tells the parable of the good Samaritan.
The lawyer must learn to recognize even the Samaritan as his brother.
He must do justice by acknowledging that God has created each and every person.
Oppression and violence and hatred must cease.
We must always look out for the outcast, the vulnerable among us.

Second, we must embrace God’s love and practice mercy.
Jesus lived this out through acts of healing and mercy – feeding the hungry, healing the sick.
In every action, he sought to bring life to people by reaching out and touching them.
It is not just reaching out in love, however, to people we know and care about… it is also reaching out to offer kindness and forgiveness even to those who would seek to harm us.
Just as Bruce Wayne refused to take up the weapons that destroyed his family, so Jesus refuses to play the games or fight in the ways of evil.
He forgives those who crucify him.
He doesn’t fight back.
He knows that with God there is another way.

Lastly, we are called to walk humbly with our God.
Jesus showed us what this meant through the cross.
The greatest love, he told us, was to lay down our lives for our friends.
And so as the Christ hymn of Philippians reminds us, even though Christ Jesus was in the form of God, he emptied himself, he was born among us, and he humbled himself even to the point of death in order to serve the will of God. (Philippians 2:5-8)

Today, we are called to a life of goodness. A life of justice, and mercy, and humility.
We are called to lay aside anything that would distract us from God’s life and power in this world.
When evil looms around us and lives are being taken every day by forces that oppose God’s will, I think we are invited this Lent to a time of reflection and repentence.
Where are we complicit?
Where do we need to seek justice?
Where do we need to practice mercy?
Where do we need to humbly bow before our God and lay aside our idols?
May God stir our hearts…

Practice These Things…

Posted on November 13, 2016Leave a comment

Last week, we broke bread in spite of our differences.

We shared at the table of the Lord with people who would vote differently than us and with some who would not or could not vote at all.

And we touched [will touch] the waters of baptism and remember our baptism in Christ and that we are all children of God.

And we did so because our heritage… our inheritance as a church… our tradition as people of God… is to overcome any division among us.

Paul exemplified this in the way he gave thanks for the Gentiles in Ephesus… in spite of the vast sea of differences between them.

In today’s scripture reading, Paul is writing to a different community… to the people of Philippi in Greece.

This, too, was a diverse community, and one of the interesting features is that there were many descendants of Roman army veterans living there.

Later on this morning, we will share together in a potluck meal and celebrate and honor our veterans… all of those who have faithfully served our country, who sacrificed in countless ways for us. Every step of the way, they put the rights, the lives, the needs of other people above their own.

I believe that self-giving spirit… that spirit of love that would cause someone to lay down their life for another person… is part of what has made our country great. We don’t sit back when people are in need, but we show up. We have showed up to fight back tyrants and dictators, oppression and evil… and not always because it was on our doorstep, but because it was on the doorsteps of others.

All throughout the letter to the Philippians, you can see that kind of self-giving spirit we honor in our veterans. Practice these things… practice that holy, radical, sacrificial love… Paul writes.

And yet, the context of Philippi was very different. This was the site, if you appreciate history, where Brutus and Cassius were finally defeated by the armies of Marc Antony. And much of the land was taken away from the original inhabitants and given to the soldiers and their families as a reward.

This was a place of division, dislocation, and disparity and the gospel of Jesus Christ took root in the people who were the most vulnerable in this community.

For some, everything had been taken away from them: their citizenship, their land… everything that made them who they were.

Until they found their identity in Christ.

And as Paul writes this letter of encouragement to these displaced people, that identity, that love, that faith is what he reminds them of over and over again.

In chapter 3 he writes: “All these things were my assets, but I wrote them off as a loss for the sake of Christ. But even beyond that, I consider everything a loss in comparison with the superior value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. I have lost everything for him, but what I lost I think of as sewer trash, so that I might gain Christ and be found in him.”

These are not empty words of someone who had privilege… as Paul was. As a Roman citizen, he had rights that many of them had just recently lost and this might have felt like salt thrown onto open wounds…

Except, Paul really did let go of all of his power and privilege for the sake of the gospel.

This letter is being written from a jail cell – because Paul is awaiting trial for preaching the good news of Jesus Christ.

He is living out with his very life every word he writes on the page… including the call to “adopt the attitude that was in Christ Jesus: though he was in the form of God, he did not consider being equal with God something to exploit. But he emptied himself by taking the form of a slave and by becoming like human beings. When he found himself in the form of a human, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” (2:5-8)

Practice these things…

In every part of this letter, Paul reminds the church at Philippi to put others ahead of themselves. To love fiercely, in spite of what might happen. To overcome conflict and difference, anger and fear.

And friends, that’s not easy.

When there are deep divisions in a community it is easy to hunker down with people who are like-minded, to grumble and argue, to weep and be overcome with discouragement or to hold our victories over one another.

But Paul tells us to be grateful.

Paul tells us to rejoice.

Paul tells us to let love reign in our hearts.

The key to unity we heard last week… the key to overcoming division… is gratitude for the people who are different than us.

It is echoed all throughout this letter, too.

“Don’t do anything for selfish purposes, but with humility think of others as better than yourselves. Instead of each person watching out for their own good, watch out for what is better for others.” (2:2-4)

And in our scripture this morning, from the Message translation:

Celebrate God all day, every day. I mean, revel in him! Make it as clear as you can to all you meet that you’re on their side, working with them and not against them. (4:4-5)

Friends, I need you to know that there is real pain and fear across this nation right now.

There have been acts of hate and violence and aggression in our communities and neighborhoods. And in this neighborhood, there are families who fear they will be separated and there are people who have been targeted because of their gender, or sexual orientation, religion or ethnicity, or even because of the clothes they are wearing. I cannot and will not utter the hateful and horrendous words that have been used to diminish the value of our neighbors.

There have also been acts of violence as a part of generally peaceful protests and marches.

So I need you to know that I am not calling for a unity that blissfully ignores conflict.

Paul is not calling for a unity that ignores the trials and tribulations of our brothers and sisters and siblings OR neglects truth-telling and accountability.

Paul is in prison because he refused to be silent… because he challenged the powers-that-be with the radical love and gospel of Jesus Christ.

No, the type of unity Paul speaks of is a unity of resistance against the forces of this world that seek death, division, oppression, and hatred.

Paul calls us to “be blameless and pure, innocent children of God surrounded by people who are crooked and corrupt. Among these people you shine like stars in the world because you hold on to the word of life.” (2:15-16)

Stand firm in your faith, in spite of your enemies.

Be united in love and compassion.

Be united against injustice.

Be united against hateful rhetoric.

Be united in protection of the most vulnerable.

Put into practice all that we have learned from Paul – and won’t worry about it, don’t be paralyzed by fear, but lift up petitions and supplications and praises to God.

As Paul writes to the people of Phillipi:

Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse… (4:8)

So let me close by telling you a story… a first-hand account from a Muslim woman:

Yesterday my husband and I attended a football game, it was Duhur time and we needed to pray.

Finding a place to pray at a football stadium is tough, but we managed to find an empty corner.

I was a bit nervous to pray because it wasn’t private at all, particularly in front of everyone, maybe i’m silly but i’m always paranoid i will get attacked while focused in prayer. My husband started praying and i get approached by stadium security.

I thought in my head, here comes this guy, he’s gonna escort me out and tell us we can’t do this here.

I was wrong…

he came up to me and said “i am going to stand here and guard you guys to make sure nobody gives you any problems, go ahead and pray.”

He allowed us to pray and stood in front guarding us to make sure we are safe. When i finished he came up to us shook our hands and told us to enjoy the game.

The key to unity… the key to overcoming division… is gratitude for the people who are different than us.

The key to unity is to listen with grateful ears the stories of another person… even if it is a story of hurt and fear and pain… it is holding open spaces for people when they are scared… standing by their side when they are in pain.

The key to unity is to seek out someone who is different from you and to tell your story – even if it causes conflict BECAUSE we are grateful they are part of our community and because we want to continue to be in relationship with them.

The key to unity is to practice what is good and true and holy… putting others before yourself and giving thanks to God that they are in your life…

May it be so.

Pride and Humility

Posted on July 24, 2016Leave a comment

I didn’t plan it this way intentionally, but I find it providential that we are talking about humility and pride on the weekend in between our two national political conventions.

Each party competes to see who can blow the most hot air and puff themselves up the most.

They will talk up their achievements and point out the other team’s failures.

And the national pundits and media will delight in every mistake along the way.

Pretty much the opposite of everything the scripture calls us to be and do.

Today, that scripture focuses on two of the minor prophets… connected only by this thread of pride that rings through their message.

Up until this point in our Summer of the Prophets we have been going in a sort of chronological order. We started with some of the earliest prophets – Elijah and Elisha – and made our way through various kings and rules, to the destruction of first Israel, the Northern Kingdom, and then Judah, the Southern Kingdom. Last week, we found ourselves with the Judeans in the middle of exile, trying to make the most of life in a strange land.

Scholars disagree about where Obadiah fits into the mix. Some firmly believe that Obadiah was the servant of King Ahab mentioned in the scriptures… which meant he would have been in ministry during the time of Elijah. Yet the context of his words make far more sense either during or after the time of exile.

In either case, the word of God he receives is meant not for Israel, or for Judah, but for the neighboring kingdom of Edom.

To understand how Edom fits into the picture, we need to go all the way back to Genesis to the story of two brothers… Jacob and Esau.

Esau is the older of the two – a rough and tumble sort of guy who thinks with his gut. Jacob on the other hand, is quietly clever… a mamma’s boy who uses his wit to trick his older brother and gain the upper hand. And Jacob uses these skills to steal the birthright from his older brother and to gain a deathbed blessing from his father.

Esau is furious at these events. He knows that his father is near to death and promises that as soon as their father is gone that he will take his brother’s life. And Jacob must flee for his life.

Usually we follow Jacob in this story… to Paddan Aram where he works for seven years in order to marry Rachel… and then for seven more when he is tricked into marrying her sister Leah instead.

We mostly forget about Esau… but he lets go of his anger and moves on with his life. He marries and has children and is wildly successful… and his people become the nation of Edom.

While Jacob and Esau eventually reconcile, Edom remains a separate kingdom… sometimes ruled over by Judah… at other times in alliance… and still at other times they benefit from Judah’s downfall.

Such is the case when Nebuchadnezzar rolls through Judah and destroys Jerusalem. The Edomites are recruited to help in the battle AGAINST the people of Judah and plunder the city of Jerusalem.

And so Obadiah cries out… “Because of the slaughter and violence done to your brother Jacob, shame will cover you, and you will be destroyed forever. You stood nearby, strangers carried off his wealth… You should have taken no pleasure over your brother on the day of his misery… you shouldn’t have bragged on their day of hardship…” (Obadiah 1:10-13)

Zephaniah’s words follow on the heels of these and describe the sort of people God creates out of the judgment and punishment that was visited upon Israel, Judah, and Edom:

“I will remove from your midst those boasting with pride. No longer will you be haughty on my holy mountain, but I will cause a humble and powerless people to remain in your midst; they will seek refuge in the name of the Lord.” (Zephaniah 3:11-12)

We have here a picture of contrasts.

Those who are prideful, who gloat over the misfortunes of others, who are so thankful that they are safe and warm in their beds while others suffer… they are the ones facing judgment and destruction.

But those who seek refuge in the Lord, who know their limitations and weaknesses, who seek to help others and have compassion on the suffering… they are the ones in whom God delights.

In this day and age, our political parties are like the perpetually warring brothers Jacob and Esau. Pride, vanity, power all get in the way of real relationship. And we can be so focused on having it our way and our answers and our recipe for success that we actually hurt ourselves and those around us.

And as much as we don’t want to admit that those same kinds of prideful interactions are part of the church, they are. As someone who has participated in the local, regional and global levels of church leadership, we, too, have political parties and opposing sides… caucuses and maneuvering… winners and losers.

No doubt, some of you will have heard that the Western jurisdiction in the United States just elected and consecrated the first openly gay, married bishop of our church. Bishop Karen Oliveto has served as the pastor of Glide Memorial in San Francisco, one of the 100 largest churches in our denomination, before being nominated and elected.

As Bishop Bruce Ough, president of the Council of Bishops wrote the night of the election: “There are those in the church who will view this election as a violation of church law and a significant step toward a split, while there are others who will celebrate the election as a milestone toward being a more inclusive church…”

Whether we like it or not, whether we want it or not, conflict is at the center of our relationships in the church and in the world.

But as Bishop Ough continues in his letter, “We affirm that our witness is defined, not by an absence of conflict, but how we act in our disagreements. We affirm that our unity is not defined by our uniformity, but by our compassionate and Spirit-led faithfulness to our covenant with God, Christ’s Church and one another.”

I hear in the Bishop’s letter and in our scripture today echoes of my favorite passage from Philippians 2:

Adopt the attitude that was in Christ Jesus:

Though he was in the form of God, he did not consider being equal with God something to exploit.

But he emptied himself by taking the form of a slave and by becoming like human beings.

When he found himself in the form of a human, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

That call to be humble, to let go of our perceived power, to get down in the dirt and be in solidarity with those who are weak and suffering and broken… that is the core of the Christian faith.

It is right there in the life of Jesus.

It is in the parables… as the shepherd leaves the 99 to find the one lost lamb… in the story of the Good Samaritan… in the story of the widow and her mite.

As the blogger, Joshua Becker, puts it: “Humility is… the opposite of aggression, arrogance, pride, and vanity. And on the surface, it appears to empty its holder of all power.

“But on the contrary, it grants enormous power to its owner.

“Humility offers its owner complete freedom from the desire to impress, be right, or get ahead. Frustrations and losses have less impact on a humble ego and a humble person confidently receives opportunities to grow, improve, and reject society’s labels.” (http://www.becomingminimalist.com/the-hidden-power-of-humility/)

There is nothing we can do to change the dialogue at the national level right now, but we can choose how we engage in the relationships right here in this room. We can choose how we have dialogue in our families. We can choose the kind of dialogue we will have on social media and in coffee shops.

We can let go of our pride, we can let go of arrogance and aggressive attitudes towards one another and instead, we can practice humility.

We can try to hear what one another really thinks.

We can discover and appreciate the values that are at the core of their positions.

We can respect one another as persons and refuse to demonize our opponents.

And we can commit together to turn not to the power of kings or presidents or worldly leaders to save us… but to turn instead to prayer.

Prayer centered in the humble and self-giving life of Jesus Christ.

Prayer that calls us out into the world to love all people as children of God.

Prayer that transforms us from the inside out.

I urge you, as a witness to how Christians act in times of conflict, to live with humility over the next few months.

Seek out conversation with people you disagree with and truly listen.

Be willing to let their positions change you.

Be willing to share openly and honestly and in loving ways what you believe.

Don’t gloat over wins, and don’t pass around falsehoods and half truths.

Instead, stand with people when they are hurting.

Admit when you are wrong.

Try to grow in the knowledge and love of God and the world every single day.

Lamentations and Investments

Posted on July 10, 2016Leave a comment

I must confess it was difficult to pick just one passage from Jeremiah and in the light of the events of this week, I wasn’t sure that I picked the right one.

I wondered if I should have chosen from Jeremiah 8 and 9:

Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then are my people not been not been restored to health? If only my head were a spring of water and my eyes a fountain of tears, I would weep day and night for the wounds of my people.

Or maybe Jeremiah 31:

A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and waiting. It’s Rachel crying for her children; she refuses to be consoled, because her children are no more.

And I find it so hard to get back up in this pulpit every week with some new tragedy or terror that must be addressed. But we have to do so.

We have to speak about the pain and suffering and loss of this world. To not turn to our scriptures and prayer and ask where God is in the midst of what is happening would be irresponsible. It is what we should do every moment of every day… and if I can’t model that for you on Sunday mornings, then I’m not doing my job.

It pains me that a world that is so connected… 24/7… on every device at our fingertips… can be so divided and at war with itself.

I look around and see so much anger and hurt. Here in the United States and all across this world.

#bluelives #blacklives #Muslimlives friends, they all matter. We all matter. It’s not an either/or. It’s a both/and.

And yet we take the pain and hurt and anger we feel and turn it back against one another for not being “on our side.”

There is only one side for us to be on. The side of life and hope and peace.

It often feels like we are living in the worst times of human history. Like things have never been this bad.

I could quote statistics about how violence… especially deadly violence is down in many different categories across this world. That seems hard to believe, but its true. But you know what… that seems to trivialize the pain that every death, every particular death carries in this day and age where we collectively witness and experience them.

I am in grateful to be preaching from Jeremiah this week because he lived in what the Jewish Study Bible calls “the most crucial and terrifying periods in the history of the Jewish people in biblical times: the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple of Solomon… [he] grappled with the theological problems posed by the destruction of the nation, and who laid the foundations for the restoration of Jerusalem and the Temple in the years following the end of the exile. In the course of his struggles to understand the tragic events of his lifetime, he tells the reader more about himself than any other prophet, including his anguish and empathy at the suffering of his people, his outrage at God for forcing him to speak such terrible words of judgment against his own nation, and his firm belief that the people of Israel would return to their land and rebuild Jerusalem once the period of punishment was over.” (p917)

It is strange to say that I feel like I’m living the lives of these prophets this summer, but maybe that’s what happens when you spend time in the scriptures.

So I’m feeling Jeremiah’s anguish and empathy when I look out at you… when I scroll through my facebook feed… when I turn on the news and see the heartbreak and frustration and hopelessness of so many people… in Baghdad, in Medina, in Baton Rouge, in St. Paul, in Dallas…

And I, too, have been crying out to God asking “How long… how long will you let us turn against one another before you come and do something to fix this?”

Jeremiah turned all of the grief of his people into laments to God… he cried out to God and I think it is appropriate on a day like this, in a time like this for us to do so. For us to lament and grieve…

And so I want to invite you into a time of lament with me. And together we will sing a response that is familiar to many… Oh – Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.

O Holy God, we have come here this morning from many places,

From east and west, north and south,

From pain and disillusionment,

From anger and confusion,

From grief and sadness,

Looking for hope.

We come together for one thing only:

To raise our hearts and voices and very bodies to God,

In the hope that the very act of raising them in lament yet in faith,

We might know the transforming and surpassing power of your love.

Oh Holy God, hear us as we cry out to you. Our pain is more than we can bear alone.

Response: Oh— Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.

Unable to forget the violence and the loss of this past week, we cry…

Mourning the loss of the innocent, we cry…

Looking for justice where none seems possible, we cry…

Outraged by the actions of those who should have known better, we cry…

Lost, looking for your guidance and direction, we cry…

Weeping with families whose loved ones will never return home, we cry…

Standing with all of those who have sworn to protect us and who gave their lives, we cry…

Desperate for the courage to speak out against racism, injustice, and oppression, we cry…

Wanting to put all this behind us and live in wholeness, we cry…

Looking for the peacemakers, we cry…

( Liturgy of Lament for the Broken Body of Christ, adapted https://www.futurechurch.org/sites/default/files/Liturgy-plan.pdf)

O God, in mystery and silence you are present in our lives,

Bringing new life out of destruction, hope out of despair, growth out of difficulty.

We thank you that you do not leave us alone but labor to make us whole.

Help us to perceive your unseen hand in the unfolding of our lives,

And to attend to the gentle guidance of your Spirit,

That we may know the joy you give your people. Amen. (Ruth Duck, BOW 464)

Friends, we cry out “How Long…”

But I think the reminder of our scripture for this morning is that God turns that “how long” back on us.

And God is asking… what are you going to do, today, to be the answer?

How are you going to be a witness, an example, a living testimony of the firm belief that though this time is painful and brutal that YOU are on the side of life and hope and peace?

How are you going to personally invest in the future you pray for?

Jeremiah found himself in precisely that situation. As he was proclaiming the destruction of the land he loved… even as he was imprisoned by the very king he was trying to get to act differently… God asked him from his jail cell to buy a plot of land as an investment in the future of the land. As a reminder that “houses, fields, and vineyards will again be bought in this land.”

The armies are at literally at the gates of the city. The siege has started. And Jeremiah is buying property.

He was investing in the future he so fervently prayed for and so firmly believed in.

I’m tired of the loss of life in our world.

Thoughts and prayers are not enough.

We have to start investing in the future we long for.

We have to figure out what it means to “buy a plot of land” today.

And I think there are a few concrete things we can do, today, to invest in God’s future.

First, we have to invest in relationships with people who don’t look like us.

My friend, Jim, and his wife, Lori, have a son who is seven years old. His name is Teddy. And because he is adopted, his skin doesn’t look the same as that of his parents.

Jim wrote to me, “I’m keenly aware that I didn’t really ‘get it’ until I was invested in the life of my son; and all of the fear and trepidation I feel for him as he starts growing up to be a young black man in America. So I know that compassion and grace towards those who don’t ‘get it’ is necessary because I was one of them in the past.”

The only way that we can ever start to live into a future of peace is to actually cross the street and talk with our neighbors who are people of color or Muslim or police officers or elderly or of a different political party.

We have to invest in personal relationships with people who are not the same as us.

Second, we have to practice humility.

We are not better than anyone else. We are not perfect. We don’t have all of the answers. And we need to create space for others to teach us, for others to lead us, for others to speak.

And part of that means that we need to look at all of the ways in which dominate conversations or perspectives and we need to step back and listen.

This past week, as the holy month of Ramadan was ending for our Muslim brothers and sisters, a bomb went off in the heart of one of their holy cities. And we barely noticed.

We can be so focused on our own lives and our own experiences that we do not stop to let go of ourselves and make room for the pain and grief of others.

Third, we need to speak the truth in love.

The first part of that is that we have to tell the truth.

We have to stop spreading rumors or hyperbole. And we need to take a moment and pause and ask about the source and if it is trustworthy. We have to take a breath.

But, we cannot be afraid to speak the truth when it is in front of us. We have to name injustice. The only way that evil is overcome is when it is brought into the light for all to see. So we cannot be afraid to name it. To speak it. To see it.

And we can do so in love.

We can disagree.

We can speak the truth and invite conversation and dialogue.

We can do so with our feet in protest non-violently.

But we should never resort to demonizing or attacking other people because of what they believe.

We have to start investing in the future we long for.

We have to invest in living differently in this world.

Just a few minutes ago, in the prayer I prayed that:

We come together for one thing only:

To raise our hearts and voices and very bodies to God,

In the hope that the very act of raising them in lament yet in faith,

We might know the transforming and surpassing power of your love.

And so I want to invite you in to a prayer with your whole body as we invest in the future God hopes for us:

Touch your forehead:

Put on the mind of Christ, a spirit of humility, encouragement, unity, and love.

Touch your ears:

That in the cries of the oppressed and grieving you may hear God calling you to another way.

Touch your eyes:

Darkened by tears, unable to see past privilege and power, blinded by hatred, that they may be brightened in the light of Christ.

Touch your lips:

Silenced by fear and the shock of news, that you might respond to the word of God and speak justice and truth in love.

Touch your heart:

Broken in pain and uncertainty, disappointment and grief, that Christ may dwell there by faith.

Touch your shoulder:

Weighted and heavy with sadness and sorrow, that your burden be eased in the gentle yoke of Jesus.

Touch your hands:

Wrung in anger and despair, that Christ may be known in the lives you touch.

Touch your feet:

That you may stand firm in faith and hope, and walk in the way of Christ.

( Liturgy of Lament for the Broken Body of Christ, adapted https://www.futurechurch.org/sites/default/files/Liturgy-plan.pdf)

Remembering Our Place #growrule

Posted on February 15, 20161 Comment

This Lent, I have been using a tool called “Growing a Rule of Life.” Each day there is a video and a prompt question to engage with. And of course, I’m behind already.

Friday’s video reminded me that we need structure, we need planning, we need the framework in place before we start these kinds of disciplines, and the very fact that I didn’t schedule time for my days off and for Sunday (which is always a hectic day in my world) proves the point.

The question we were left with that day is simple: when you connect with nature, what is meaningful about it?

When I truly connect with nature, I find that I, myself, my ego, is diminished. So much of my life is spent working and relating and living my life and everything revolves around myself and my calling and what I’m supposed to do or not do.

Yet when I truly connect with nature, all of that ceases.

I still my soul.

I stop.

And I am humbled by the reminder that there is so much else going on in the world that is not me.

The falling of snow flakes. The robins in the trees. The buds already forming. The hawk gliding overhead. The slow decomposition of the leaves that are life and death all wrapped into one.

And all of it continues without me.

In fact, all of this life probably would do a lot better without our human interference and selfish use and abuse of the world.

When I truly connect with nature, I am overcome with how small I am, and how beautiful the world is.

My soul cannot help but be awed by our Creator.

So much of the time, I’m rushing here and there, from meeting to project, to home and back.

Without creating space to stop and pause and connect with the world around us, I will forget who I am. I will forget how insignificant these tasks are in the grand scheme of things. I will forget that it is not about me… but my Creator.

Save Us!

Posted on March 29, 2015Leave a comment

Some of you sometimes ask what I like to do in my spare time and one of my favorite things to do is binge watching television. I like all sorts of things, from Grey’s Anatomy to Breaking Bad, but I also have a healthy obsession with British television and sci-fi. Both of which are perfectly satisfied by Doctor Who. About five years ago, I discovered Doctor Who and I think I’ve watched every episode of the newer material about three or four times.

So, what, you might be wondering, does Doctor Who have to do with Palm Sunday?

Well, this is a show about a time-traveling alien with twelve lives, but of all the places the Doctor could go in the world, Earth seems to be his favorite. One the one hand, he sees its vulnerability and innocence. On the other, he praises humanity for their survivability and curiosity, their fortitude and spirit of exploration. He wants to see them thrive.

In the series two premiere, Christmas has come, but chaos is reigning on our planet with a large alien war ship hovering over London. The Sycorax have seized control of 1/3 of the population and Prime Minister Harriet Jones issues an urgent plea – “Doctor, if you are out there, save us!”

That’s what we all hope for, isn’t it? Someone to save us? Someone to make everything better and the monsters and demons and agonies of our lives to go away?

When Jesus appeared on the scene in Galilee, people flocked to the countryside, to the houses, to the shores just to catch a glimpse of this man who would save them. He healed their illness, he cast out their demons, he even forgave sins… He made their worldly pains go away. He saved them from their current predicaments. He was amazing.

And then, like any good Savior, he rides in on a donkey, the ancient world’s version of a white horse or a blue box to save the day and make everything better.

You see, that’s what the people thought Jesus was there to do. He fufills the prophecy, as told in Zechariah 9: the symbolic triumphant entry of a King into Jerusalem on a young donkey:

“Rejoice, greatly, O Daughter of Zion! Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

Unlike conquering forces who rode in on war horses, this was the sign of a true king – the one who brings peace and hope to the people.

And so when he rides into Jerusalem on the back of a colt, when he comes bringing peace and hope, the people spontaneously shout out: HOSANNA! Which means Save us!

Their lives are full of problems and stresses and this Jesus has shown that he can solve them.

He can heal them.

He can save them.

He is on their side.

HOSANNA!

Only, Jesus doesn’t save us in the way we expect.

They, and we, expect our hero to be a Clint Eastwood or Sylvester Stallone type hero: riding in to save the day, confident, untouchable, there is no question that they will triumph.

But Jesus appears more like Frodo Baggins: he seems to be facing an uphill battle, he is humble, at times during this holy week questioning his purpose, and yet always willing to sacrifice his own life for the purpose to which he was called.

In our Philippians reading this morning, that picture of a humble servant is painted for us. It has come to be known as the Christ Hymn – a song of praise for the one who gave everything up, the one who emptied himself of power and life rather than grasping at it for himself and for others.

Repeatedly, Jesus demonstrates humility. He gave up his seat at the right hand of God to be born among us, an infant whose life was in danger from the very start. He reached out to the hurting and sick and those imprisoned by sin. He invited them to his table and was rejected for doing so. He touched the unclean and welcomed children onto his lap.

Jesus went to the underdogs of this world. Those who don’t have power, money, or the system on their side, and he loved them.

If that was how he lived his life, I’m not sure why we expect the road to salvation will be different.

We want fireworks and trumpets and victory, but instead the path before us this week is marked by the cross.

Jesus will spend the coming week in Jerusalem, but he doesn’t leave victorious… he leaves carried away to be buried in a tomb. The people couldn’t understand how his way of humility and love and grace and sacrifice could bring about the reign of God and TRULY save them and us… save us not from our current oppressive problems but save us to the core of our very being.

And so they stubbornly turn their backs on him. Like children, they stomp their feet and pout: If he refuses to help me the way I want to be helped, I don’t want any part of it.

I find “The Christmas Invasion” episode of Doctor Who to be such an interesting parallel, because the Doctor too is rejected in the end. He stands up for earth and is willing to be their champion in an epic duel for the planet. And although he defeats the Sycorax, he does so without killing the leader. He sends them packing with a warning – “When you go back to the stars and tell others of this planet, when you tell them of its riches, its people, its potential, when you talk of the Earth, then make sure that you tell them this… IT IS DEFENDED!”

And the Sycorax leave. They head back for the stars.

But Harriet Jones… the one who cried, “Save Us!” in the first place is not satisfied.

He didn’t save them in the way she hoped he would.

He didn’t save them in a way that would continue to isolate them from the stars.

He didn’t save them in the way that she was completely willing to do. And so with a word, Harriet Jones signals for a weapon to be fired and the Sycorax are blown out of the sky.

We are not happy when things don’t go our way. And when our “savior” comes along and isn’t what we expected, it is surprising how quickly we turn to violence. How quickly we become the very thing we are fighting against. How quickly we lose our humanity in a desperate attempt to cling to the salvation we think we deserved.

Just five days after they shouted in the streets for Jesus to save them, the people reject Jesus, and shout for him to be crucified instead.

And as Paul writes in Philippians, Christ was obedient to God’s will, Jesus remained the humble servant, even when it meant death on the cross.

When we praise Jesus, it is not the triumphant entry, but the cross that truly shows us God’s glory. In giving up his power, in emptying himself, in this act of love, Jesus reveals what divine power is all about: non-abusive, patient, never grasping, “power… made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Today, we live on the other side of the cross. We know the power of the resurrection. We know that death was not defeat at all, and that Christ has not only risen from the dead but has been exalted on high.

The question is: how do we live in light of that knowledge?

From a jail cell, Paul penned the “Christ Hymn” and encouraged the Philippians to embrace the power of Jesus… to “adopt the attitude that was in Christ Jesus.” (2:5)

We are to let go of our power and live in obedience to God’s will.

Here at this church, we claim a particular vision: In Christ, live a life of love, service and prayer.

Our salvation demands that we live as Jesus lived.

And as we adopt the mind of Christ, our eyes are opened to those all around us who are in need of love, and service, and prayer.

We are called to love: we are called to go and stand with the widow and the orphan. We are called to the dark and lonely corners of this community – to the people who have no one and to carry the love of Christ with us… even if it means putting our own lives on the line.

We are called to serve: We are called to be in relationship with people and offer ourselves. We are called to sacrifice time and energy and money to help our brothers and sisters. And that service extends to more than just a handout… we are called to bow down in service and treat those with whom we minister as honored guests.

Finally, we are called to pray: Sarah Coakley believes that to be in Christ, we need to practice prayer. We need to “cease to set the agenda… [and] make space for God to be God.” In doing so… in praying for our community and our world, we set aside what we think we are entitled to and instead ask for God’s will to be done. We ask for God to give us the courage and strength to act on behalf of those who can’t.

Today, Jesus rides triumphantly into Jerusalem.

He rides not on a war horse, but a humble donkey.

He rides not to conquer and destroy, but to die for our sins and to set us free.

As one of my colleagues wrote this week:

We thought that we wanted a King.

We thought of all that he would bring.

Power and might and wealth and singing.

We thought we wanted a King.

Instead, we got everything. (Jessica Harren)

Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!

Blessed is the one who sets the prisoner free!

Blessed is the one who comes to save us!