WOW!

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Text: Isaiah 6:1-8;  Psalm 29

A few weeks ago, I was able to make a trip to Hawaii with my family.

Twenty three of us… aunts, uncles, cousins, grandkids, siblings, parents, nieces, and nephews… in paradise.

One of the things that I am always on the lookout for in Hawaii are rainbows.

The mountains in the center capture the clouds as they move over the island, bringing light sprinkles nearly every day.

But water and sunlight means rainbows.

Nearly every day! 

The first day went by… and I didn’t see one.

The second day went by, and my dad asked if I had caught the double rainbow over the ocean that morning.  Nope.

Did I see the one the next afternoon?

*sigh* I hadn’t.

A WEEK went by and I hadn’t seen a rainbow.

But I also realized something else.

While I had been looking… I hadn’t really been paying attention.

I was still getting into vacation mode.

Still carefully putting away all of my plans and thoughts and to-do lists from ministry both here and at the conference center. 

That second day of vacation, after all, we had a special session of annual conference that I joined virtually so that we could say goodbye to 83 churches as they left the United Methodist Church.

I had been in paradise.  But I wasn’t present. 

In an interview, Anne Lamott talked about prayer as getting outside of ourselves and paying attention:

Prayer is not about saying, ‘Oh, I think I’m going to pray now.’ Or, ‘Oh, I see I’ve made a notation here to pray at 2:15.’ It’s about getting outside of your own self and hooking into something greater than that very, very limited part of our experience here…

It’s sort of like blinking your eyes open. … It’s sort of like … when Dorothy lands in Oz and the movie goes from black and white to color, and it’s like having a new pair of glasses, and you say, ‘Wow!’

I started focusing on being more present to what was happening all around me.

Savoring every moment and bite of food and laugh of the kids.

And one afternoon, on a walk with my niblings, it happened. 

a blue sky in the foreground with clouds in the background and a rainbow between palm trees and a building

I turned around and saw a rainbow.

Wow.

The artist Michael Lipsey says that “if you’re not amazed most of the time you aren’t paying attention.” 

Because the truth is, you don’t have to go to Hawaii to catch a rainbow or a spectacular sunset or a glorious flower bursting forth.

We have the opportunity to get outside of our own selves and hook into something greater every single day.

It is the touch of your partner’s hand.

Or the way the sunlight filters through the leaves.

It is the frosting covered face of our children.

Or the swell of the organ in a hymn. 

Wow. 

The other day, I came into this sanctuary all by myself and sat on these steps.

And I was overwhelmed by it all.

Nine years of memories flooded my soul…

From the nervous excitement of that first Sunday and hearing your gasps as I threw seeds all over the church…

Playing and building with scaffolding and bricks during a stewardship drive…

The babies I baptized… and the grown-ups, too! 

The little ones who are now taller than I am…

Playing bass…

Singing with the choir…

The many, many goodbyes as we celebrated the promise of resurrection…

The meals we shared…

The singing and music and laughter…

We don’t always take the time to appreciate and celebrate each of those moments when they happen, but…

WOW.

I was all alone that morning… but not really. 

Because I was connected to something bigger than myself.

And friends… I know that this is a big morning with lots of emotions that just fill this space.

As Missy and I talked about it… we might have to do some liturgical weeping today…

But I also want and need you to know that this room…

this sanctuary…

this world is always filled with wonder and power and awesome things…

If we are willing to pay attention. 

In our scripture from Isaiah this morning, he sees the Lord sitting on a throne, with the hem of God’s robe filling the temple.

And you know what, I can imagine that Isaiah’s day actually started off pretty normal.

He might have gone to the temple that morning for prayer. 

Or maybe he was bringing an offering. 

But something happened to him in that space. 

He hooked into something greater than himself. 

He could see beyond the veil of his own limited experience of reality to catch a glimpse of the divine. 

And God’s glory filled the room.

Seraphs… angels… flew around crying, “Holy, Holy, Holy!”

“The whole earth is full of his glory!”

Everything around him shook and Isaiah falls to is knees…

Woe is me!

Woah!

WOW!

(it might all be the same prayer…)

The Psalmist is moved in the same way, hooking into the power of God in all of the earth

 as they listen to the rolling thunder,

or the roar of the ocean,

or the creaking trees of the forest…

they see the mountains tremble and the fire of God flash forth…

As the Message translation puts it:

            Bravo, God, Bravo!

            Gods and all angels shout, “Encore!”

            In awe before the glory,

            In awe before God’s visible power.

            Stand at attention!

            Dress your best to honor him!

…We fall to our knees – we cry out, “Glory!”  

And friends… I have to wonder how often we, too, might cry out in wonder and awe at God’s glory…

If only WE were paying attention?

Anne Lamott writes that “astonishing material and revelation appear in our lives all the time.  Let it be. Unto us, so much is given.  We just have to be open for business.”

Next week, you will welcome a new pastor.

As part of that time, you will also hear from a guest, Josh Smouse, who is bringing to this church a word and some encouragement and direction from the CAT survey that you all took.

But before you dive into some of those ways that the church can continue to grow and thrive, I want to invite you to take a step back and ask a different kind of question:

Am I paying attention?

Am I spiritually “open for business”?

Have I been willing to allow myself to get hooked into something greater than myself?

A colleague posted on facebook this week a word about how we can change our experience of worship… and I want to share a few of their thoughts with you 

  • Pray before you get there.  Friends, you don’t have to raise your hands, but how many of you prayed before you came to worship this morning?  How many of you asked God to speak to you during this time?  What might be different if you opened yourself up to encounter God before you ever walked into this room?
  • Listen to worship music on the way.  What are some songs that speak to you?  What helps you to connect with God not just in your head, but in your soul?  How might that change what you are able to see and hear in this space?
  • Sing loudly and focus on God.  John Wesley talks about this in his directions for singing! … sing lustily and with good courage!  Have an eye to God in every word you sing.  Aim more at pleasing him more than yourself, or any other creature.  And to do this, he encourages people to attend strictly to the sense of what you are singing… what are the words?  What do they ask of you?  What are they inviting you to pay attention to?
  • Don’t run late.  We are all going to be late at some point… but the truth is that when we arrive harried and discombobulated, it is going to be harder to let go of those distractions.  Try to arrive and give yourself enough time to center and truly be present in this space.  After all, you don’t have a week to get present so you can see the rainbows!
  • Expect God to move. Oh friends… do you actually expect God to show up in worship? Are you ready for God to speak? Do you want to see the hem of God’s robe filling this space and God’s glory over all the earth? 

While trying to do a few of these things might truly change your experience of worship… they aren’t just about what happens in this room.

Because there are amazing, incredible things happening all throughout the ministries of this church…

Our little free pantry gets emptied nearly every day… and people show up to fill it again and again and again… WOW.

Our Immanuel Gospel Fellowship community continues to grow and their worship is so full of life and sound and chaos and joy… and you can come and experience it any Sunday at noon… and I encourage you to do so! You truly will cry out… WOW. 

People are going through really hard times in their lives… but you keep showing up with food and prayers and encouragement… you are present with one another… WOW. 

As she describes that third essential prayer, WOW, Anne Lamott writes:

Love falls to the earth, rises from the ground, pools around the afflicted.  Love pulls people back to their feet.  Bodies and souls are fed. Bones and lives heal. New blades of grass grow from charred soil.  The sun rises.

And it is happening everywhere, all around us,  every moment of the day.

This whole earth is full of God’s glory.

It is not just the miracle of the rainbow… but also the loving embrace of a church for people of all gender identities and sexual orientations.   

It is not just the beauty of a sunset… but also the glorious diversity of our colors and cultures.

It is not just the rumble of thunder in the mountains… but also the roar of laughter as family and friends from many generations play together.

And if we prayerfully connect with God… open our spirits… pay attention to what is happening… I promise, you will be amazed by what you see.

I also know that there is a fine line between being amazed and being terrified.

In Isaiah, we discover there isn’t much distance between WOW! … and Woah! … and Woe is me!

Sometimes we are overwhelmed by just how great of a struggle we face…

Or how far we have to go…

Or by how much has been lost…

There is so much hate in this world.

So much violence.

So much destruction.

Sometimes the problems of the world make us say, WOW – how could that possibly be?

There are so many people who are unwilling to get outside of their own selves and their own limited experiences to hook into something greater. 

Yet even those poetic words of the psalmist, David… you know, the ones that recall the violent destructive power of nature… earthquakes, floods, raging fires…

They also name that above anything that has the power to destroy… is God.

The one who gives strength.

The one who touches our lips with grace and mercy.

The one who brings peace.

The one who has the power to heal… and forgive… and change… and transform… and create… and renew…

The one who calls…

The one who sends every day, ordinary people into the world…

So that we can pay attention…

Pay attention to the hurt, and the joy, and the love, and the struggle…

And with arms and hearts and lives wide open, can say, “Here I am, Send me.”  

Thanks!

Text: Isaiah 12:1-6, Philippians 4:4-9

Holy God, speak into our midst this morning.  Fill us with hope, grace, and peace.  May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts and minds honor You this morning. May they be worthy of your calling and accomplish your faithful work in our midst.  Amen.

I thank God for you.

I do.  I really do.

I thank God for you, the people of Immanuel United Methodist Church.

I thank God for how the love you all have for each other and the world is increasing.

Robert Dunham wrote that “common struggle often forges an uncommon unity and love for one another.  Like the peace that holds the community fast in turmoil, love for one another and congregational unity are best received and celebrated as gifts.”

And as we gather today, I cannot help but reflect upon some of the common struggles that we have shared over these last nine years of ministry together. 

Some of them were challenges that we set before ourselves: raising money through a concert for DMARC, a gigantic garage sale for Joppa, or purchasing five brand new books for every student at Hillis Elementary.

But we have also been held together through turmoil. 

Some of them are simply the realities of human life:  

the illnesses, the injuries, the loss of treasured members of our community. 

We have prayed and grieved and supported one another – offering God’s strength and peace.

And then there were the realities that we didn’t see coming. 

Truly adaptive challenges we faced as the world changed… and is changing… and we’ve had to figure out how to reach new people in new ways.

We have gone through a pandemic… learning how to move worship online and connect with one another in new ways.

We have navigated conflict and conversation about human sexuality and racism and how to welcome immigrants and what kind of church we want to be for the future.

A changing economy impacts not just our church finances, but also demands more of us as we reach out to care for the hungry and the homeless on our doorstep. 

When I think about our scripture from Isaiah today, I remember that much of this text was written in a time of great difficulty. 

The first half tells of the judgment of the people, who weren’t following God’s will.

And the second half is full of hope and promise… but written from exile, having lived through destruction and removal. 

And yet, in all of it, Isaiah keeps an eye on what God has done.

On the grace and mercy of God.

Joy and praise and thanksgiving ring out…

not because everything is hunky dory… but because it is not. 

And in our own situations… we didn’t always know what we were doing, or how to do it, but by the grace of God, we’ve found ways to love, serve, and pray together. 

Not because we had the answers… or because the work was easy…

but because we knew that God was with us and would help us through.

It is the challenge of Paul and Timothy as they write to the people of Philippi.  This is from the Message translation:

“Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your                worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of         God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down.            It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.”

Although you have every reason to be anxious… and you have needs and requests to share with God… there is also reason to give thanks. 

Or… as Anne Lamott so honestly puts it in her book about the three essential prayers:  Help, Thanks, and WOW! :

“…at some point, we cast our eyes to the beautiful skies, above all the crap we’re

wallowing in, and we whisper, ‘Thank you.’

Thank you, God.

And in so many of those kinds of situations, there were moments when we got a little grumpy with one another. 

We are human after all, and we are still learning and growing and figuring these things out…

but we are doing it together…

And we’ve taken the time to share when things weren’t working out and have reached out when feelings were hurt and have tried to find a way forward.

Anne Lamott describes the prayer of thanks as a tool to move from “rashy and clenched to grateful.” 

I just love that imagery… and I can actually sense it in my body.

There are those moments when we are frustrated or in conflict and we truly are clenched. 

It is a posture of being on high alert, always ready to fight or flee or even freeze. 

In a world that is so divisive, we see that all around us.

But I think that God has used us and shaped us through gratitude, love, and grace to be God’s people and demonstrate a different path. 

We have tried to live out the advice from Paul and Timothy to be gentle with one another and to seek the peace of God.

We’ve stayed in conversation.  We’ve taken the time to listen.

And we have found ways to give thanks and celebrate the people who have come into our lives…

All of which takes that posture of abrasive and clenched living and turns it into a posture of openness and grace.   

The love we have for one another is a gift…

the bonds formed in the midst of common struggle are a blessing…

and they should be celebrated as such. 

Thank you, God.

Anne Lamott writes that “Gratitude begins in our hearts and then dovetails into behavior. It almost always makes you willing to be of service, which is where the joy resides.”

 And friends, as we have been grateful for the love of God… we have also let those prayers of thanksgiving turn into joyful service. 

[the numbers represent images of ministry projected during the worship service]

[1] Thank you God for the deeper relationships we formed with our neighborhood elementary school, Hillis, as we brought books for so many children and we have more and more people taking just an hour a week to read with those who need some extra help.  

[2] And thank you for helping us to continue efforts like Donuts for Dudes and Muffins for Moms where we can be present in our neighborhood and share God’s love with breakfast.

 [3] Thank you God for the ways that young people and their mentors here at the church bonded through hard work, study, and recreation at things like confirmation.

 [4] Thank you God for the impact you had on children in our church and community as we worked to help them learn more about your powerful and never-ending love.

 [5] Thank you God, for calling us to have hard conversations about your calling for our church in this world.

 [6] Thank you God, for bringing us together in fellowship and for new relationships formed over barbeque and basketball.

 [7] Thank you for challenging us to stretch beyond our own teams and ministries to build new partnerships with others, like the Interfaith Green Team Coalition.

 [8] Thank you God, for those who give so faithfully of their time and energy behind the scenes to make ministry here possible.

[9] Thank you God for the faithfulness of our predecessors like Mrs. Simser and the bibles we give our children and the faithfulness of third grade bible partners and teachers.

 [10] Thank you God for a seven year partnership and relationship with Imani church…

[11] … and for our new relationship with Immanuel Gospel Fellowship. 

 [12] Thank you God for the opportunity to go into the world to serve you through Volunteers in Mission, in our neighborhood, but also as far away as Omaha and Memphis.

[13] and thank you for challenging us to do hard things to raise funds and give time for ministries like Joppa and DMARC. 

[14] and for the deep connections that are created when we labor together for a common good.

[15] Thank you God for those who not only prepare meals for us every week, but who care for and minister to one another in good times and in bad.

 [16] Thank you God for those who knit and crochet blankets, for folks who feed and care and support, so that we can extend the love of Immanuel to those who need it the most.

[17] Thank you God for our staff and their faithfulness and willingness to serve. 

 [18] Thank you for the youth and volunteers and chaperones who go out and represent us so well in the community.

 [19] Thank you, God. 

Thank you. 

You know, I started out just trying to find a few highlights of the amazing work God has been doing here among us and the list just kept going on and on and on. 

As Paul writes to the church at Philippi, there really is so much to brag about. 

He praises their generosity, their support for his ministry.

He encourages them for the work that is still to come. 

But really… that’s the outline of all of Paul’s letters. 

And I can’t help but borrow Paul’s words… or rather, Eugene Peterson’s translation of Paul’s words.

“My dear, dear friends!  I love you so much. I do want the very best for you.  You make me feel such joy, fill me with such pride. Don’t waver. Stay on track, steady in God.”  (Philippians 4:1, MSG)

Over these past nine years, you’ve made some tough decisions and have stretched in new ways.

I thank God for how you’ve been willing to answer God’s call. 

And as you continue to implement some of these changes…

And live out a new kind of welcome…

There will be bumps in the road.

It won’t all be easy. 

But in the midst of the muck and the hard stuff, keep your heart full of gratitude and your eyes on Jesus. 

As people of faith, God is continually calling us to do hard things. 

God is calling us to leave our comfort zones go and be in ministry with the least and the last and the lost.

God is calling us to welcome the little ones and the stranger and whomever else shows up.

God is calling us to give up our preferences for the sake of the mission. 

And maybe the hardest of them all…

God is calling us to be honest and real about our own vulnerabilities, our own brokenness, struggle, and pain, so that this community can walk with us, can love us, can remind us over and over again about the love of God in Jesus Christ that can transform even our broken souls. 

That’s what church is all about.  

Growing in love for each other and in love for God.

Giving thanks in every circumstance. 

Singing and shouting to the Lord for the excellent things God has done among us. 

May you continue to do hard things. 

May you continue to hear and be faithful to God’s call.

May you continue to be formed in love born of our common struggle to truly be disciples of Jesus Christ in this world. 

And through it all… may you continue to give thanks… keeping that attitude of gratitude that keeps your eyes above the muck on the one who gives us strength. Amen. 

UMC 101: The Mission of the Church

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Text: Isaiah 6:1-8

I think one of the greatest failures of the church today is that we put God into a very small box.

Jesus is our friend and companion.

The Holy Spirit holds our hand and brings us comfort in tough times.

The Father tenderly calls us to do the right thing.

These are all images that are safe and simple and focused on ourselves.

Not only are they woefully inadequate for encountering a world full of problems that are too big to tackle alone, but they can’t begin to capture the fullness of a God who is truly other… truly holy. 

The prophet Isaiah begins to have visions.

Over and over he sees images of the failings of his nation and the bloodshed and oppression his own people have caused by relying on their own might to solve the problems they faced.

And then Isaiah has a vision of God.

A holy, living, powerful God.

Not a safe and gentle friend, but a vision of the Lord upon a throne.

God’s presence is so great and beyond comprehension that just the hem of God’s robe fills the temple.

And there are winged creatures, seraphim, flying around shouting at one another:

“Holy! Holy! Holy! Is the Lord of Heavenly Forces!  All the earth is filled with God’s glory!” (Isaiah 6:3)

As the room shakes and fills with smoke, Isaiah isn’t comforted and he doesn’t feel safe and secure… he is afraid for his very life.

“Mourn for me; I’m ruined” he cries out. 

He sees just how unholy he is compared to God.

He sees just how unworthy his neighbors and his nation are.

And he knows that this wholly other and almighty God sees it all too. 

But then this God does something unexpected.

God’s holiness draws close.

A glowing coal touches Isaiah’s lips and his sin and his guilt are gone. 

But this isn’t just about Isaiah. 

It isn’t just about one person encountering the holiness of God, repenting of their sin, and being forgiven.

The way some of our churches live out this story today, Isaiah would have gone home from this incredible experience, assured of his salvation, stay loosely connected with his faith community, and hold on to this memory when things were tough.

That’s how we too often treat faith, isn’t it?

But that isn’t the end of this story.

The voice of God thunders throughout that space asking… “Whom shall I send?  Who will go?”

How will this world be transformed from a place of sin and death?

Who will call people to repentance and carry the message of love and forgiveness?

And forever transformed by his encounter with the holiness of God, Isaiah realizes he has a job to do. 

It will be hard and messy and frustrating and full of joy and power and love.

But he takes up the call and allows God to send him back into the world to transform it.

You know, if I were to sum up the core of the gospel message that Jesus proclaims it just might be: God loves you, God forgives you, and God has a job for you. 

Every day, in a thousand different ways, God is inviting us to participate in the reign of God’s kingdom. 

God is asking, whom shall I send into this world to fulfill my reign and realm in this world? 

And the church has stepped up to say, “Send us!”

Our Book of Discipline lays out for us our purpose:

“The mission of the Church is to make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world by proclaiming the good news of God’s grace and by exemplifying Jesus’ command to love God and neighbor, thus seeking the fulfillment of God’s reign and realm in the world.” (p. 93)

The text goes on to say that “whenever United Methodism has had a clear sense of mission, God has used our Church to save persons, heal relationships, transform social structures, and spread scriptural holiness, thereby changing the world.  In order to be truly alive, we embrace Jesus’ mandate to love God and to love our neighbor and to make disciples of all peoples.” (p.94)

I just love that phrase… in order to truly be alive…

You see, we believe that when we encounter the holy, awesome, expansive, presence of God it changes us. 

It transforms us from those who are dead in our sin into those who are alive in the Spirit.

It empowers and emboldens us to head out into the world not as ordinary people, but as servants of Christ. 

In order for the church to be alive it needs to be actively engaged in this work as well. 

What does this look like, practically speaking?

Well, we good old “methodical” United Methodists are pretty clear about the process for carrying out this mission and making disciples.  And we hold one another accountable to this process by tracking and monitoring how well we do each year:

First, we need to proclaim the gospel!  And this isn’t just about my sermons on Sunday mornings.  It is about how all of us share the good news of Jesus in our daily lives.

It is about how we show the world that we love God and love our neighbors.  Or as the Book of Discipline puts it, “the visible church of Christ as a faithful community of persons affirms the worth of all humanity and the value of interrelationship in all of God’s creation.”  (¶124, p. 94)

We connect people to one another, we connect issues to our faith, and we connect all of it to God. 

Each year in our statistical reports, we take note of how well we are doing in this area by reporting our church demographics and who we are reaching. 

It probably isn’t much of a surprise to you, but the professing membership of our congregation is predominantly white and just over 60% female. 

About 30% of our participants in Christian formation groups are children or youth and just 3% of our participants are between the ages of 19-30. 

These kinds of statistics challenge our local church to think about how we might reach out to younger and more diverse people by building new relationships in our daily lives. 

Second, we help our neighbors experience God’s grace as they repent and turn to faith in Jesus. Just as Isaiah confronted his own sin and received forgiveness, we proclaim a need for transformation in hearts and lives. One ofthe primary ways we do this is by sharing the message of God with people in our times of worship. 

We talk about the sins and concerns of this world and God’s intentions for all the earth, we hear about the grace of God, and we give people the opportunity to respond. 

And so every year, we keep track of how many people are worshipping with our faith community, and how many baptisms, professions of faith, and new members our church has witnessed.

In 2020, before the pandemic, our church had an average worship attendance of about 160. What has been amazing is that even throughout this difficult time, we have grown the number of people who worship with us each week.  When you combine our in-person and online attendance, we have been reaching, on average, just over 180 people every Sunday! 

In this past year, we welcomed five new people to our faith community, baptized two little ones, and are supporting twelve students as they go through the confirmation process. 

The third thing that we believe the church does as we make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world is help people to grow in their own Christian life.  This happens in worship, for sure, but also in small groups, conversations, leadership opportunities, and the various places we share our gifts with one another and the world. 

One of the biggest ways that we can see that our church is alive and continues to thrive is that even as we suspended some of our opportunities, we adapted and created new ways to grow. 

We have studied scripture on Zoom, included younger folks in our brass group, brought in new leaders for Sunday school, continued to include those who moved away in online opportunities, and expanded teams to support and encourage our elders, our teachers, and our college students.

When you add up all of the individuals who have participated in some kind of ministry opportunity in this last year, 229 people have been nurtured in their faith through this church. 

Fourth, we give people opportunities to say, “Here I am, send me!” As the Book of Discipline puts it,  we “send persons into the world to live lovingly and justly as servants of Christ by healing the sick, feeding the hungry, caring for the stranger, freeing the oppressed, being and becoming and compassionate, caring presence, and working to develop social structures that are consistent with the gospel.” (¶122, p. 94)

Our call is to put faith and love into practice in real and tangible ways that make a difference for our neighbors and transform this world more into God’s realm each day. 

As a church, we keep track of the number of folks who serve in mission and community ministries that our church sponsors… from Joppa, to Hawthorne Hill, to CFUM meals, to Trunk or Treat, and more.  131 members of this church actively engaged in this work… and we know so many of you are engaged beyond this church too in service and work of advocacy and justice. 

Together, we try to not only see, but respond to the hungers that people experience in their lives… not just for food, but for safety, for healing, and for relationship. 

And we do all these things not just once… but over and over again.  In our work of putting faith and love into action, our witness continues to make disciples who will transform the world.

You know, I have to be honest. 

In this season where the world is talking about the “Great Resignation” and the stretch and strain so many people are feeling, it is hard to get excited about recommitting and increasing our engagement with the church of Jesus. 

Not only are we busy, but we are tired.  And for all sorts of legitimate reasons. 

One of the reasons we put God into that small little box is because we aren’t sure that we really can take on one more responsibility. 

It seems easier to hold God at arms length… to focus only on the small differences God makes in your daily life… instead of worrying about anyone else.

But friends, the holy and awesome and terrifying power and presence of God is here! 

The whole earth is full of God’s glory!

“Woe is me!” Isaiah cried out. 

He was ready to die, give up, give in…

And the holy power of God gave him the ability to say, “Here I am… send me.” 

And our church believes that in order to truly be alive… to be energized and empowered… then we have to let that burning coal of God’s love and mercy and grace touch our hearts.

We have to “embrace Jesus’ mandate to love God and to love our neighbor and to make disciples of all peoples.” (p. 94)

Take a moment to rest and rejuvenate your spirit…

But also know that the Holy Spirit is ready to set your heart and your life on fire.

And friends… the good news is that we don’t have to do this work alone. 

Each one of us within this Body of Christ called Immanuel has a unique gift and role to play… whether it is praying, or leading, or giving of your resources, or doing the hands on tasks of ministry. 

Here at Immanuel, we embrace this vision of discipleship.  We believe that we follow Jesus as we connect with one another… as we worship and repent and confess our faith… as we grow in community… and as we go together to the world. 

All of us, together, with God’s help… can not only be disciples… but make disciples… and transform this world. 

Follow the Star: Service

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Text: Mark 1:29-38, Isaiah 40:21-31
Today, as we follow the star, we hear an invitation from God to serve.
Why do we serve?
Is it because we are trying to earn our salvation?
Is it to gain brownie points with God or with others?
Do we serve from a sense of duty or obligation?
Or is our service simply the fruit of a life spent focused on God?
The way we demonstrate our gratitude for the gifts that have blessed our lives?

Today we have two passages to consider and before we dive into these powerful words from Isaiah, I think we need to situate them a bit in history.
Isaiah was a prophet of Judah, or the southern half of what was Israel.
After King David died, his kingdom was split into two. The blue part of this map was known as Israel and the yellow portion is the southern kingdom of Judah.
God wanted the people to serve.
To trust.
To let God be the king of their lives.
Not because God needed anything from them, but because it reflected God’s desires for the human family.
But both kingdoms had basically said, “No thank you, Lord! We want to try to do this ourselves.”

This is the God of all creation!
This is the one who sets the stars in the sky and raises up nations and kings!
This is the one who had rescued them from Egypt and had given them the land in the first place!
Instead of having hearts full of gratitude…
Instead of allowing their lives to be shaped by the one who had given them life…
They turned their backs on their Redeemer.
And God let them fall.

As Isaiah is called to prophesy to the to the kingdom of Judah, Israel, the blue portion of this map had just been conquered by the Assyrians.
They were wiped off the map and out of history, never to be heard from again.
And the word that comes to Isaiah is this:
I am the God of all creation.
I am everything that you need.
Tell the people of Judah that if they don’t start to follow me, if they try to trust in their own might, they will only find ruin.
My way is the way of life… yours is the way of death.
For 39 chapters, this is what Isaiah preaches to the people of Judah.
He warns them.
He pleads with them.
All he has to do is point to the north and remind them of what happened to their neighbors.
But his words fall on deaf ears.
And the consequence of their failure to trust and obey and live faithful and fruitful lives is that the Babylonians come in and Judah is conquered.

But here is the really important part.
God does not forget the people in exile.
God calls Isaiah once again, this time with a message of comfort and hope.
This chapter you see, chapter 40, is a turning point.
The people realize they can’t do it on their own.
They realize how futile it is to try.
And now, when they have hit rock bottom, God is right there offering strength and hope and life.

Isaiah tells them that even young people will faith and grow weary if they try to do it on their own. They will fall exhausted by the side of the road.
Youth is not a prescription for strength.
Military might will not save you.
Protein shakes and weights will not build the kind of muscles you need.
If you want to be spiritually strong and whole and full of life the only place to turn is the Lord.
Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.

Those who wait for the Lord…
Does it mean that we sit quietly and patiently?
That we stop everything else we are doing and just see what happens?
Not at all.
In fact, the Hebrew word for “waiting” is the same as the word used for twisting – like making a rope.
Far from being passive, this kind of waiting invokes the idea that you are being worked on, formed, and bound together.
Waiting on the Lord is being open and available to what God wants to do with your life.
There is the old joke about the man who prayed to God that he might win the lottery… but he never went out and bought a ticket.
This kind of waiting isn’t just sitting back and seeing if God will act.
It is active.
It is expectant.
It is full of hope and tension and we put our lives in the right place by waiting upon the Lord in service and worship.

I have been thinking about the process of bringing new life into the world through pregnancy. Any mother can tell you that this kind of waiting is not passive.
It is painful and full of uncomfortable moments.
You can’t just sit back and wait for something to happen.
What you eat matters. What you drink matters. How you move matters.
And in the process, two lives are entwined and bound together.

That’s what it is like to wait upon the Lord.
Our live becomes entwined with Gods as we serve and worship.
In the process, God’s strength becomes our strength.
And then God takes the single cord that is our life and twists it together with others in the church so that we are made even stronger.

Which brings me to Simon Peter’s mother-in-law.
In our gospel reading for today, Jesus enters this home and discovers that she is ill.
This isn’t just a cold, she is confined to bed with a fever.
Jesus enters the room and gently takes her by the hand and the fever is gone.
He helps her to her feet.
The very next thing she does… is to wait on them.

Now, there have been many times in the past when I have read this verse with a little bit of indignation.
I mean, what kind of a sexist message is being taught here, that the instant a woman is well, she jumps out of bed to serve the men?
But if we examine the text a little bit closely, we discover something interesting.
She waits upon them… like we are called to wait upon the Lord.
Her labor is not a menial household task, but the word we find here in greek is diakanos.
Diakanos is ministry.
It is the same word used to describe how the angels wait upon Jesus in the wilderness.
The same word Jesus uses when he washes the feet of his disciples and calls them to serve.
The same word used by the church to send out the first deacons.
Those who wait upon the Lord renew their strength.
Those who serve the Lord find abundant life.

Here was a woman who was trapped in her bed by her illness, much like the Judeans were in exile.
And yet, she waited in expectant hope.
She actively lived a life ready for God to work through her.
And just as God reached out to bring the people of Judah out of captivity, Jesus stretched out his hand to lift her up.
Her act of service in this moment is not just out of gratitude for what God has done and is doing in her life.
It is the fruit of a lifetime spent attentive to God’s will in her life.
And before even her own son-in-law figures out what he is doing as a disciple, she is already at work saying yes to God.
As Megan McKenna notes: “the first four followers of Jesus become five…”

Throughout this season of Epiphany, we have been following the star.
We’ve explored how God is revealed in our lives and reclaimed our identity.
Together we have received the invitation to follow… along with the call to repent.
Last week we talked about what it means to allow the authority of God to shape our realities.
Each of these star-words have been a step in a journey.
A journey that helps us to let go of the idea that we can do it ourselves.
A journey that reminds us that it is only in God that we find the strength and the power to keep going.
Only when we place our lives in God’s hands, in worship and service, will we truly discover life.

In her weekly reflection, Debie Thomas shares a quote from Annie Dillard’s book, The Writing Life: “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing.”
Even as I say those words, I think about how many hours in the last year I have spent on the couch watching shows on Netflix.
So often, we have grand plans for how we will live out our faith in the future.
I’ll be a disciple someday when I have time, or more energy, or the kids are grown.
As Thomas notes, they are “days filled with intention, purpose, and meaning. Days meticulously scheduled and beautifully executed. Days marked by attentiveness, order, devotion, and beauty. When I get around to living those days – maybe tomorrow? Maybe next month? – then I will begin to sculpt my life.”
What if instead, we simply allowed Jesus to take us by the hand and we got up and began to serve?
What if we stopped trying to do it our way and instead allowed God’s strength to lift our weary spirits and to twist and shape and transform our moments.
What if we stopped passively waiting for a mountain top moment, but claimed this day, right now, as when our life in God can begin.
How will you spend this day?

A Feast of Terror and Abundance

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Text: Matthew 22:1-14; Isaiah 25:1-10

So, all month long in our daily devotions we are focusing on where the Kingdom of Heaven shows up in the gospel of Matthew.
What we discover is an awful lot about how we should live right here and right now.
The Sermon on the Mount is filled with ethical instruction about how we treat one another in the Kingdom… which is often the opposite of what the world expects.
We’re called to put all of this teaching into practice in our lives and get out there and start sharing the Kingdom of Heaven with everyone we meet by healing and teaching and building relationships.
And then, we get to the parables.

This coming week we are going to talk each day about some of the shorter parables…
The Kingdom of Heaven is like a mustard seed, or leaven, or a net thrown into the ocean…
But for the next two weeks, I want to focus on some of the big and complicated parables we find in this gospel.

Parables, as I shared in yesterday’s devotion, are stories about ordinary things that draw people in, but have a meaning that is often hidden from plain sight.
They are meant to provoke us, to get under our skin, or as Debie Thomas puts it: “show us things we don’t want to see.”
Because they are stories, they have layers of interpretation, not just one way of seeing them. Jewish rabbis in the time of Jesus would have debated and wrestled and turned a scripture upside down and inside out and every single time would have discovered something new within it.
That is how we are invited to dive in… with open minds and willing spirits.
We are invited to dig into the history and the context that surrounds these simple narratives to try to grasp how the crowds around Jesus might have heard them.
And then we are supposed to ask how God is working to challenge the assumptions we bring into the story.

So today, we have the parable of the wedding banquet.
Now, usually when we look at this parable, we imagine that the King is God, right? God has invited the chosen ones to the party, and when they refuse, God throws open the doors to anyone else who might come.
Well, that is the sanitized version of that story.
Because it skips over all of the terrifying parts.
This is not a happy and blissful scene, but something that is straight out of a horror film.
When the invited guests don’t show up, in his rage, the king has them all murdered and sets the whole city on fire.

Then, the king pulls in everyone who is left – good or bad, rich or poor – and in essence, forces them to attend the party.
I mean, if they refuse, they might turn out like those initial guests, right?
All of these leftover nobodies show up, probably with fear and trembling.
Then, when the King looks out at the crowd, he sees one person who isn’t wearing the right thing and has him thrown out into the darkness.

Debie Thomas asks us:
“As Christ’s followers, do we really believe in a God as petty, vengeful, hotheaded, and thin-skinned as the king in this parable? A God who burns an entire city to the ground in order to appease his wounded ego? A God who forces people to celebrate…while his armies wreak destruction right outside? A God who casts an impoverished guest into the “outer darkness” for reasons the guest absolutely can’t control? Obviously the answer is no. Of course we don’t believe in a God as monstrous as that. Do we?”

One of the things that I remember my grandpa saying pretty clearly is that he didn’t understand the God of the Old Testament.
The God he found there was violent.
The God he found there punished the people.
But the God of the New Testament was full of grace and mercy and forgiveness.

But I think we can only say that is true if we selectively read through the scriptures and we skip over interpretations of parables like this.
And I’m reminded that it also requires us to skip over the promises and visions of abundance and love we find in the Torah and Prophets and Writings.
In fact, in the back of my mind, I’ve been thinking about not the wedding feast of terror from our reading today, but the feast of abundance in Isaiah 25 and 55.

Isaiah cries out…
…the Lord of heavenly forces will prepare for all peoples
a rich feast, a feast of choice wines,
of select foods rich in flavor…
He will swallow up on this mountain the veil … swallow up death forever.
The Lord God will wipe tears from every face;
he will remove his people’s disgrace from off the whole earth,
for the Lord has spoken.
They will say on that day,
“Look! This is our God,
for whom we have waited—
and he has saved us!

All of you who are thirsty, come to the water!
Whoever has no money, come, buy food and eat!
Without money, at no cost, buy wine and milk!
Why spend money for what isn’t food,
and your earnings for what doesn’t satisfy?
Listen carefully to me and eat what is good;
enjoy the richest of feasts.
Listen and come to me;
listen, and you will live.

Surrounding these passages are mentions of God’s judgement.
Of walls being trampled and people being destroyed.
But here is the thing about the prophets.
They were speaking to a people who were actively experiencing their own ruin.
Their cities were being overrun and burned to the ground by occupying forces.
Their neighbors were being killed.
And they had to try to make sense of what was happening.
How could God have let them down?
Why weren’t they protected?
And what the prophets proclaimed in this moment is that the rulers and the people needed to acknowledge their own sin and complicity and failures.
But every single time, the prophets also spoke of Gods redemptive love.
They set forth a vision of abundance and grace and restoration.
You see, the God proclaimed in these texts is not petty or cruel… no, God’s steadfast love endures forever.
God is patiently waiting, with the banquet table always abundantly set, ready to swallow up death forever.

How do we reconcile that vision with our traditional interpretations of this parable?
Maybe we start by asking new questions.
I was a bit blown away when Debie Thomas posed a question in her reflection:
“What if the king in the parable isn’t God at all?”
“What if the king embodies everything we’ve learned to associate with divine power and authority from watching other, all-too-human kings and rulers?

This king, after all, acts a whole lot more like Herod that the God we find in scripture.
You know, the one who went out and murdered infants because he felt his rule was threatened.
This king acts a whole lot more like the Roman Empire, which has subjugated the people of Israel.

Perhaps, Jesus tells the parable in precisely this way because he wants to challenge the assumptions we have about the kind of Kingdom he is bringing.
A parable, after all, shows us things that we don’t want to see.
Not about God, but about ourselves.
This parable comes on the heels in Matthew’s Gospel of his triumphant entry into Jerusalem.
There were some there, who wanted God’s reign to come with violence. They hoped for an overthrow of the Roman empire.
But there were also those like the religious leaders who believed that God’s reign was exclusive and filled with judgment. They sought to arrest and kill Jesus because he was not playing by their expectations and rules.
What is Jesus trying to get us to see?
If God is not the King… where do we find the Kingdom of Heaven in this parable?

In the parables we will explore over this next week in our daily devotion… Jesus tells us the Kingdom of Heaven is hidden. It is quiet. It is blossoming. It is unexpected. It is contagious. It is inclusive. It can’t be stopped.

When I hold those Kingdom of Heaven values up to this parable, I come to a surprising insight.
What if the Kingdom of Heaven is centered not on the powerful ruler, but the one person who has the courage to stand out?
The one who refuses to follow the rules of the party, the empire, the world.
As Debie Thomas puts it, “What if the ‘God figure’ in the parable is… the one brave guest who decides he’d rather be ‘bound hand and foot’ and cast into the outer darkness of Gethsemane, Calvary, the cross, and the grave…?”

After all, just prior to this parable, Jesus challenges the religious leaders quoting scripture to them:
“The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone. The Lord has done this, and it’s amazing in our eyes.”

The Kingdom of Heaven is not a feast of terror where guests are forced to attend by the threat of sword and fire.
The Kingdom of Heaven is a feast of abundance that turns upside down our notions of power.
It is where tears are wiped away.
It embodies the kind of love the Apostle Paul speaks of in 1 Corinthians 13.
The Kingdom of Heaven is patient.
The Kingdom of Heaven is not easily angered.
The Kingdom of Heaven keeps no account of wrongs… not taking pleasure in wrong doing, but rejoicing in the truth.
The Kingdom of Heaven endures all things… even the threats and violence of the world.

In fact, it is the rejection by this world that lays the cornerstone for God’s will to be done among us.

Last week, we compared the values of the kingdoms of earth and the Kingdom of Heaven.
Today, we are invited to imagine ourselves as those invited guests…
Will we allow fear and intimidation to keep us in the world?
Or are we willing to take up our crosses and stand against the forces of evil, injustice, and oppression?
It was a decision that the disciples would have to make just a few days after Jesus shared these words.
Some of them betrayed Jesus and handed him over.
Some of them fled.
Some of them tried to fight.
Some of them denied who he was.
You see, standing against this world feels almost impossible.

Almost.
Because even our rejection cannot stop the Kingdom from taking hold.
Even our hesitation cannot stop the Spirit from moving.
God’s steadfast love endures forever.
And God is patiently waiting for us, with the banquet table always abundantly set, ready to swallow up death and fear and oppression forever.
All we have to do accept the invitation.

Aloha!

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Text: Isaiah 43:1-2, 18-19; Psalm 139:7-10

Friends, I’m so excited to travel with all of you, virtually, to Hawaii this morning.
As many of you know, these islands hold a special place in my heart because my family has been blessed with the opportunity to visit and spend time not only enjoying the sunshine… but also spending time with one another.
I was in first grade during my first trip to Oahu and have some incredible memories of playing cribbage, boogie boarding, luaus, building sandcastles, and dancing with my grandpa at the Chinese restaurant down the street…

It was always a long trek to get there, but it was always worth it and we never considered going anywhere else, because Hawaii is paradise… right?
It is always 78 degrees, the sun shines every day, and after every rainfall there is a rainbow.
You can hike in the mountains or lay on the beaches.
You can trek through rain forests and eat seafood until your belly is full.
It is full of abundant vegetation and life and culture.
Maybe not unlike the garden…

You know the one I’m talking about.
The paradise we find in the second chapter of Genesis, full of trees with edible fruit and flowing waters, and creatures of all kinds.
The paradise we got kicked out of.
Adam and Eve taste of the fruit from the forbidden tree and suddenly become aware of their nakedness and their shame.
And in the midst of that beautiful paradise, with everything they could ever need or want at their fingertips, they hide.
They hide from one another, by putting on clothing.
And, they hide from God…

Well, at least they try.
There in that place, where the Lord God walked in their very midst, they hoped the trees might conceal their bodies, their actions, their guilt.
But it couldn’t.
God was there.
And God knew them.

Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence? the psalmist asks.
If we run to the highest heavens and find ourselves in paradise, God is there.
If we escape to sheol, the depths of death, hell itself, God is there, too.

The God who formed us, shaped us, molded us, breathed life into us…
Well, as we talked about last week, that God is faithful.
That God is constant.
That God doesn’t leave our side.

When we are overwhelmed by the ocean depths, God is with us and keeps us from drowning.
When the fires of this world threaten, God is with us and we will not be destroyed.

You know, on the surface level of Isaiah’s words here, it sounds like nothing can touch us.
We could literally walk through fire and not be burned, because God is on our side.
But I have to admit, I don’t think that is what God intends here.
On the Big Island of Hawaii there are plenty of places where the lava has flowed over the roads and anyone or anything caught in its path has been destroyed.
This isn’t a promise of divine protection or an invitation to test God.
Bad things happen.
People we know and love have been impacted by flooding and wildfires and some have lost their lives to drowning and severe burns.
Illness and disease and economic downturns come our way, too.
It doesn’t mean God has abandoned us.

In fact, if we look at the overall message of Isaiah 43, what we actually see is a promise that no matter what kinds of consequences or tragedies or punishments or terrors befall us, God is with us and God can redeem it all.
From the Message translation:
“Don’t be afraid, I’ve redeemed you… when you’re between a rock and a hard place, it won’t be a dead end – because I am God, your personal God…. I’d sell off the whole world to get you back, trade the creation just for you.”
God loves us so much and promises to make a way through the destruction.
Even the destructive tendencies of our own sin and rebellion.
God will make a way for life, new life, abundant life to spring forth.
We get a glimpse of this
And if we ever start to doubt that… maybe Hawaii is precisely what we need.
Every inch of this paradise is possible only because fiery destruction has come before it.
As Lyons and Barkhauer describe it:

Here, along the Pacific coast, you can see earth just a few years young, or, when lava flows freely from Kilauea, only hours old. As molten ground meets the shore and slowly cools, you can watch the ‘Big Island’ grow. Creating new earth is a smelly and surprisingly loud process with all manner of hissing, popping, and low rumbling of bass shaking the earth, assaulting the nose with the smell of sulfer and hot metals… steam screaming to the surface is a toxic cocktail of noxious gases to be avoided for your own safety…
yet, in the midst of a lava field, a single green plant takes hold and defiantly clings to life. Look above the crater’s rim and see the verdant vegetation of the tropics. This brutal, inhospitable landscape is the prelude to paradise.

One of my favorite things to do on the island of Oahu is to hike up the outer rim of the long inactive Koko Head volcano.
The hike is possible because of an old lookout at the top which was used by the military in the early 20th century. Each step up the old supply line takes you closer to an incredible view.
At the top, you can look out and see Diamond Head, the remains of the crater that now forms Hanauma Bay, and into the lush green preserve and arboretum inside Koko Head itself.

And yet none of this lush paradise is possible without the volcanic eruption that came before.
There was a time when this vibrant landscape was nothing but a monochromatic hellscape.

From the flaming crucible of the earth’s core, life has formed and taken hold… the distance between heaven and hell may not be as great as we suppose. And here, the cycle of life begins in death where the power to create overcomes the power to destroy.

So what do we learn from this paradox?
There are times in our own lives when we will stand in barren, inhospitable, and difficult places.
We will experience loss and grief.
Illnesses and disease will come our way.
Relationships falter.
The economy is out of our control.
Systemic injustices like sexism and racism and homophobia and lack of access for people with disabilities are real.
Heck, this entire year has been described by some as a dumpster fire.
One thing after another, piling up on top of each other.

But here is the thing.
Adam and Eve couldn’t hide from God in paradise.
God was there.
Right by their side.
And God is right here with us in the midst of this, too.

But more than that…
God is calling us to pay attention.
“Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new. It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it? There it is! I’m making a road through the desert, rivers in the badlands.”

We are people of resurrection!
We are people who believe that the worst thing is never the last thing.
We are people who believe that the forces of life are stronger than the forces of death.
And there are signs of life and abundance springing forth from this mess.

Just this week, I read about how nearly half a million people have quit smoking in England as a direct result of the pandemic.
Doctors in Ireland and Denmark began to notice that premature births in their countries were falling dramatically… 75% decline in Ireland and 90% fewer preterm births in Denmark!
In both of these instances, more research is being done to learn more about the causal relationships and how what we are learning through this time could be used to save lives and improve our overall public health in the future.

We cannot flee from God and God has not abandoned us.
All around, the seeds of new life are blowing in and taking root.
We simply need to pay attention.

Recognizing the Messiah

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Text: Isaiah 49:1-7, John 1:29-42

It only takes a spark…

As I’ve shared with you in the past, my extended family has often been to Hawaii together. My grandpa and grandma were fairly blessed in their life and made the decision long ago to spend their money bringing us together than leave money to be fought over.

So growing up, what made these trips awesome was not just the location, but the uninterrupted week or two with family – playing, swimming, hiking, laughing.

One of our favorite adventures to do each trip is to hike the Diamond Head crater.

According to the souvenir t-shirt, the hike is:

0.7 mile long trail which is unpaved and has an uneven rock and dirt surface that may be loose and slippery in places. It leads through a dark tunnel and involves climbing a steep, 99-step concrete stairway and narrow spiral staircase inside an unlit bunker. The hike took about an hour up and 45 minutes back down.

Now, in reality, that’s not a bad trip… but when you consider that we normally make the hike with kids under the age of six, the trek suddenly becomes much longer.
Little feet get tired quickly and usually by the time we get a third of the way up the crater, someone wants to be carried.

So, I decided to start singing.
A simple call and response song the kids could repeat and had energy to keep their feet moving.
“the littlest worm”

Others chimed in and pretty soon, our whole group was singing our way up the crater.
We sang all sorts of camp songs and before the kids knew it, we had made it all the way to the top of the crater – and no one had been carried!

All it took was someone singing that first note and lighting the spark.

In many ways, that is what John the Baptist did so many years ago.

As we read this morning in the gospel, John saw Jesus walking by and said something.

Well, he didn’t just say something – John the Baptist called out: Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! Quite an introduction if you ask me!

The next day, John saw Jesus again and he shouted again, “Look! Here is the Lamb of God!”

And when his disciples heard it… they started to follow Jesus.

Not just that day. They stayed with him and then they too began to tell others the good news about Jesus.

It only takes a spark.

What does it mean to recognize the Messiah?
What does it mean to catch a glimpse of the light to all the nations?
And what does it look like to not just recognize this light, this Messiah, but to follow?
Does our encounter with this light of the world shape how we interact with others? How we share the good news?

In David Kinnaman’s 2007 book, unChristian, he presents research from the Barna Group on how young adults view Christians. Words like “antihomosexual”, “judgmental”, “hypocritical”, and “old-fashioned” top the list.
And not by slight margins. Over three-quarters of those interviewed would use those words.
We just can’t downplay, Kinnaman writes, “how firmly people reject – and feel rejected by – Christians.” (p19)

Those words might be surprising to you, but I’m married to someone has often said those exact things. Our friends are mostly outside of church circles, looking in, and they would say the same things.

And I think it is because somewhere along the way, we lost that first spark of John the Baptist and Andrew and Peter.

We find ourselves living in one of two extremes…

Sometimes the church claims to have the truth and light and acts with moral superiority over those who do not. Our light shines for others, but it is like the cold light of a neon sign – barking out truths, but not sharing the warmth of God’s love with them.

On the other hand, sometimes the church is turned inward on itself and afraid of what people will think if we talk about God. We are like those who have hidden their lamp under a bushel basket and the world can’t see the grace and mercy of our faith, because we are too timid to share it.

When you think about which of those two extremes gets more media coverage… which is more in the face of people who are outside the church and maybe it’s not so hard to see why those stereotypes of Christians among young people exist.

I think in many ways, this congregation is more like those in the second extreme.

I know that if people on the outside really got to know you and how you love and follow Jesus those adjectives wouldn’t be the first things that came to mind.

But are we actually out there, breaking down those barriers and stereotypes?
Does the fact that we follow Jesus make a difference in how we treat others?
Or, have we kept the good news locked up tight in our hearts?

Today is Human Relations Day and we remember that the church is called to: “recognize the right of all God’s children in realizing their potential as human beings in relationship with each other.”

On this day we remember that the light within us was meant to be a light to the nations and every person is a beloved child of God.

It is a reminder that the love of God that flows through us must be shared through actions as well as through words.

It is a reminder that a spark becomes a blazing fire only when we seek out others for the journey.

Look at those first followers of Christ, who selflessly loved other people and shared the light of God with them.
Daniel Clendenin at Journey with Jesus writes about how they chose to follow Jesus in words and deeds.
Like the Christ that they followed, they broke down social barriers.
They ignored religious taboos that judged people as clean or unclean, worthy or unworthy.
They subverted the power structures of their time that separated people by wealth, ethnicity, religion and gender.
And they didn’t allow their own interests to cloud the message about who Christ was, and is, and is to be.

First, look at John the Baptist.
He selflessly proclaimed Christ to the extent that his own followers left him.

While we sometimes think of John the Baptist as a solitary radical who lived in the wilderness and ate locusts, he had disciples.
These were people who believed his message and committed themselves to learning from him and supporting him.
Yet John did not allow his own interests get in the way of his message.

When he cried out that Jesus was the Lamb of God, his own followers stood up and literally began following Jesus down the road.

This spark that was let loose could not be controlled and like John the Baptist, we must be willing to let people follow another road and to go a different route if that is how they can best be in relationship with Christ.

I was a chaplain at a hospital one summer and met a woman newly diagnosed with leukemia.
She was terrified of death, of her “unfinished business” and wanted to know about God.
I had many conversations with her over the weeks and then months as she waited for a bone marrow transplant. We talked about Jesus and heaven and prayed through the psalms.

I felt like her pastor… but one morning I walked in and another was standing by her bed.
He was the pastor at her grandma’s Baptist church in her hometown.

I have to admit… I was a bit jealous and territorial at first.  But as heartbreaking as it was, I knew it was better for her to build a relationship with this pastor. By doing so, she could follow Christ more closely and have a church community to walk with.

Like John the Baptist, I had to let her go.

Sharing the good news of God isn’t about numbers or competition in how many followers we have.
It’s about working together to bring about the Kingdom.
And so John let his followers go.
He knew the light of Christ was bigger than his one small spark of light.

Second, look at how Christ himself invited those first disciples into a relationship.

When they heard this was the Lamb of God, they ran down the road to catch up to him.
And Jesus turns around and simply asks them: What are you looking for?

He doesn’t spout off four essential things you need to know to be a Christian.

He doesn’t make them pass a litmus test on what they believe about him.

He doesn’t ask them to join in the “sinner’s prayer.”

He asks them what they are seeking.

What are we looking for?
What do we hope to find?
Their response was really simple… maybe because they didn’t really know what to expect:
I want to know where you are staying.

And Jesus says: Come and See.

This short exchange between two seekers and Jesus tells us a lot about how the light of Christ can shine in our lives.
They are curious. They don’t have all the answers.
And Jesus gently affirms that reality.
He invites them to dip their toes in. To check it out for themselves.
He welcomes them into his life, knowing that by being in relationship with him, their lives will be transformed.

We don’t have to have it all together to follow Christ.
We don’t have to have a blazing fire built up in our hearts.
It only takes a spark.
Just a spark of curiousity.
Just a spark of desire for the God who created us.

This spring, I attended a continuing education event with Rev. Lillian Daniel, who leads a congregation in Dubuque.

She talked about how there are a lot of people in this world who identify as nones, who have no faith community they might identify with.

Some of those folks she describes as “dones.”  Maybe they were part of a church.  Maybe they were harmed or pushed away by people inside the church.  But for whatever reason – maybe even those adjectives and stereotypes mentioned before – they are done with the church.

But there are others who are “nones” but maybe could better be described as “not yets.”  They don’t know what they are missing.  They are curious.  They might walk into a church building and have no idea what a hymnal is or when to stand or sit and what they should wear.

But that doesn’t mean they aren’t curious.

That doesn’t mean they don’t have question.

That doesn’t mean a spark isn’t ready to ignite in their hearts.

If we follow Jesus, that spark will be enough to get us started.
Along the way, the more we see and experience and share our lives with God, the more the light of Christ will grow in us.

What I find amazing about this story is that after just one night in the presence of Jesus, Andrew decided he had to tell someone about his experience.
That little spark of light within him began to burn, began to glow and shine for others.
Andrew ran home and found his brother Simon.
And he didn’t just tell Simon about Jesus.
Andrew actually took Simon to meet him.
He helped Simon experience Jesus for himself.

Think about that difference.
That difference between telling someone about the love of God and helping them to experience it.

When we invite other people to ‘come’ – do they ‘see’ Jesus in our congregations?
Do we live our lives out there in the world in a way that others don’t just hear about Jesus, but actually experience the light of God through us?

Relationships are the primary way we share the good news of God with others.
And when we are truly in relationship with others, those negative stereotypes fall away.
We can be present, listening to their questions more than sharing our answers.
We can be honest about our own struggles, rather than worrying about appearing perfect. Because let’s be honest… we aren’t perfect and pretending to be so is where that whole “hypocritical” stereotype comes from.

During the season of Lent, coming up in about six weeks, we are going to explore together what it means to take that light out from hiding under the bushel basket.
What does it mean to unbind the gospel, to let the good news loose in our lives?
I’m really excited about the opportunity we are going to have to pray together and to learn new ways of sharing our faith with others.

Because you see, when we have a relationship with Jesus… when we follow him… it is not just something we have chosen to believe.
It is something we have experienced.
And it is a spark we can’t help but share with others.

I think in many ways, that tendency to want to hide our light under the bushel basket, to keep it locked up tight is precisely what Christian author Marianne Williamson was thinking of when she wrote:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small doesn’t serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

That spark of light is within you… don’t hide it.
You are a beloved child of God.
So let the love of God shine out through you!
Through you, through us, through this church, God’s salvation can truly reach the ends of the earth.

Renew Our Whereabouts

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Text: Isaiah 42:1-9, Matthew 3:13-17

This weekend, I’ve been gathered along with our confirmation students and mentors and teachers for a retreat. Our focus has been what makes us distinctly United Methodist. We’ve talked about our church structure, the way of discipleship, how we discover wo God is, and what we believe about grace.

Along the way, I keep thinking about how our time together was kind of a boot camp, a crash course in the foundations of who we are.

We’ve been talking about our shared theology as Christians and our place in the history of the church, but this was a chance to really step into a tradition.

To learn about it.
As questions.
Get ready to claim it as their own.

Earlier in the week, I read a lovely reflection by Debie Thomas. Her weekly essays at Journey with Jesus help pastors and laity alike reflect on the what the lectionary texts mean for us today.

This week, she wrote of her own experience being baptized and how it felt like such a personal commitment. She was choosing Jesus. It was all about her and her faith in that moment. As a young girl, she believed it was all about what she was doing, her obedience, her choice.

But when she thinks back on the story we just shared with you of Jesus going to the River Jordan to be baptized by John, she didn’t see it as a personal stepping out.

Instead, she saw it as stepping in.

“A stepping into a history, a lineage, a geography, an identity. In receiving baptism, Jesus doesn’t set himself apart from us; he aligns himself with us.”

For a normal person, that wouldn’t be a big deal…
To identify with others…
To join in what they were doing…

But this was Jesus!
He didn’t need us.
He didn’t need to repent and be forgiven.
He didn’t need to humble himself that way in those dirty waters of the river.

But he did.

Debie Thomas reminds us that the very first public act of Jesus was to step into our lives.
He submitted to John the Baptist… because he gives away his power.
He entered the Jordan River, that sacred place filled with so much history.

“Jesus stepped into the whole Story of God’s work on earth, and allowed that story to resonate, deepen, and find completion.”

Although it was only last week we were thinking about the babe in the manger and the wise ones who visited, this was really the first public act of Jesus.

For many at the time, this moment was the beginning of their encounter with Christ.
It was the first moment that they recognized what God was doing in their midst.
And when the Servant of God, the Beloved One, appeared before them, it wasn’t a spectacle.
It wasn’t to take over.
It wasn’t to transform everything in an moment.

It was an invitation.
An invitation for us to step in as well.
An invitation for us to surrender.
A invitation for us to enter that tradition, that history, that community of faith that has gone before us.

As Debie Thomas writes,

“To embrace Christ’s baptism story is to embrace the core truth that we are united, interdependent, connected, one. It is to sit with the staggering reality that we are deeply, deeply loved.”

I remember the day my youngest brother Darren was baptized.
He and my mom had transferred to a new church and they had missed a window for confirmation, so when it came around again, he signed up.

Unfortunately for Darren, this new church held confirmation during the seventh grade year, and he was a junior in high school.
He was about a foot and a half taller than the rest of his classmates, but Darren went through the entire class with them and was confirmed that spring.

I got to be there the day my little brother was confirmed and baptized and it was such a special moment.
All throughout the class, while he had been slightly out of place, those young kids looked up to him and they grew to be great friends.
As Darren knelt to be baptized, the pastor invited friends and family to come up and lay their hands on him.
Every single one of the kids in that confirmation class came forward and stood around us and reached out their hands to affirm and bless him.
It was quite powerful.

Darren’s baptism reminded me that whether we are young or old, whether we remember it happening to us or not, our baptisms are not private or personal events.

We are baptized in the midst of the church because those who surround us are also making commitments and vows:
the church affirms its own faith
the church pledges to act as spiritual mentors for those being baptized
the church vows their ongoing support.

In our United Methodist resources on baptism it claims that the covenant of baptism “connects God, the community of faith, and the person being baptized; all three are essential to the fulfillment of the baptismal covenant.”

Every baptism is a chance for the whole congregation to reaffirm our faith and to progress farther on the journey with Christ.

We are all stepping into live together.
“United, interdependent, connected, one.”
We are remembering that each of us, every single one, is deeply loved.

And whenever we remember our baptisms,
We have a chance to refocus on Jesus.
We have a chance to renew our whereabouts.
We have a chance to re-engage our spirits.

As we heard from the book of Isaiah this morning:
“Here is my servant, whom I uphold, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations… I am the LORD, I have called you in righteousness… I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations”

And this calling, this ministry is sealed when the Spirit of the Lord descends upon him in the waters of the River Jordan.

We are remind of the spirit of God hovering over the waters in creation and God speaking, “Let there be light.”

God shows up and new life is among us.
The new creation.
New things that God declares.
A new journey for us to take.

And through our baptism, Isaiah’s servant of God… Matthew’s beloved… invites us to follow.
The light of Christ becomes part of us.
His mission becomes our own.
His journey becomes our path.

I’m reminded of a poem from Wendell Berry called the Gift of Gravity.

For those of you who don’t know Berry, he is a writer and a farmer from Kentucky who often writes about the ordinary and mundane ways that God shows up in our lives. Hear these words about the river, about the light, about the cycle of giving and taking.

All that passes descends,
and ascends again unseen
into the light: the river
coming down from sky
to hills, from hills to sea,
and carving as it moves,
to rise invisible,
gathered to light, to return
again… “The river’s injury
is its shape.” I’ve learned no more.
We are what we are given
and what is taken away;
blessed be the name
of the giver and taker.
For everything that comes
is a gift, the meaning always
carried out of sight
to renew our whereabouts,
always a starting place.
And every gift is perfect
in its beginning, for it
is “from above, and cometh down
from the Father of lights.”
Gravity is grace.

The rain and snow that falls upon us comes from God.
It washes us clean.
It surrounds us and refreshes the ground upon which we walk…
But the light comes down from God as well.
It melts the snow and ice and warms the earth and the moisture evaporates.

It is a cycle necessary for life.
“for everything that comes/ is a gift, the meaning always/ carried out of sight/ to renew our whereabouts,/ always a starting place.”

To renew our whereabouts… always a starting place.

Like rain and light, grace is poured down upon us from God.

Whether you first stepped into the faith through baptism 1 year ago or 90 years ago, grace always gives us a fresh start.

As Berry writes, it comes down upon us to renew our whereabouts… it is always a starting place.

These waters are new life for us now.
They are the chance to re-enter the journey.
To recommit to these people.
To re-energize your spirit.
To refocus on Jesus.

After all, as Debie Thomas reminds us,

“He’s the one who opens the barrier, and shows us the God we long for. He’s the one who stands in line with us at the water’s edge, willing to immerse himself in shame, scandal, repentance, and pain — all so that we might hear the only Voice that will tell us who we are and whose we are in this sacred season. Listen. We are God’s chosen. God’s children. God’s own. Even in the deepest, darkest water, we are the Beloved.”

This is the promise of God… Amen.