Isaiah – Page 2 – Salvaged Faith

Renew the Journey

Posted on January 5, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Isaiah 60:1-6, Matthew 2:1-12

Gracious God… May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts and minds be acceptable to you O Lord, our Light and our Salvation… Amen.

We find ourselves in a transitional time.
It is a transition between the season of Christmas and the ordinary time before Lent.
It is a transition between one year and the next.
The past and the present and the future all collide.
Who were we? Who will we become?
What are we willing to do to make it happen?

When astronomers from the East saw a great light in the sky, they knew the world was about to turn. They could feel in their bones that this moment, this transition, was going to change everything.
Everything they read and studied, everything revealed to them told them, deep within their bones that this light would lead them to the child born King of the Jews.
This child would lead Israel and conquer nations.
And they didn’t want to let this moment pass them by.
They wanted to be there.
They wanted to see for themselves.
This king was so important, he changed their lives, too.

I used to think of the wise men as professional star followers.
I always assumed that they knew exactly what they were doing.
But no matter how much preparation they had…
no matter how skilled they were at navigating the skies…
there are just too many unknowns.

They didn’t know what the trip would entail: how long would it take and how many provisions they should pack. Were they concerned about running out of food or water?
Afterall, there were no Casey’s or Kum & Go’s along the way.
They couldn’t guarantee safe places to rest or a friendly greeting when they finally arrived.
They believed they were looking for a king, but they didn’t know what this king looked like! They didn’t know when or if they would ever return home.

That kind of journey takes faith and trust and humility.
But maybe… it also takes a little bit of desperation.

So, there is a song by Styx that has be in my mind all week when I think all of those unknowns of the journey.

In the song we hear the words:
Every night I say a prayer in the hope that there’s a heaven
And every day I’m more confused as the saints turn into sinners…
I wake up each morning and turn on the news to find we’ve so far to go
And I keep on hoping for a sign, so afraid I just won’t know.
Show me the way, show me the way
Take me tonight to the river
And wash my illusions away
Show me the way

You know, I hear in these words someone who has been so disillusioned and frustrated by the world that they are desperate to find a new way.
Think about those wise men…
What would motivate them to seek out this King unless they were aching for something new to appear in the world?
These wise men had their eyes wide open, frantically searching for a sign, for something to lead them.

And it appeared before them.

I wrote this week in the message about seeking a clarity of vision…
I’m wondering how many of us… myself included… are more like the chief priests and scribes in King Herod’s court than those astrologers from the east.
You see, the religious professionals knew what they were looking for.
They had all of the predictions and prophecies.
When the wise ones appeared, they could easily point out exactly where it says in the scrolls of Micah and Samuel that this king would be born in Bethlehem.
But they couldn’t see.
They weren’t even looking.
They were going about their lives, blinded to the miracle that was taking place only six miles away from them.
A star, led people from halfway across the world, and they couldn’t see it.
Maybe, because they thought they could do it on their own.
Maybe, they got comfortable in their fuzzy awareness.
Maybe, they weren’t desperate enough to ask for God to show them a new way.

As this year turns, as this season turns, are you aching for something new?
Are you looking and trying to see and understand what might come next?
The year turned and all of our prayers for peace on earth feel like they have already been shattered by rumors of war. What is our path out of this mess?

There are questions that linger about the future of our denomination and so many, no matter their perspective are aching for a new possibility… could this new announcement this week be the sign we’ve been waiting for? That something different is on the horizon?

The continent of Australia is literally on fire, and for those who have been speaking out about the climate crisis wonder if maybe this, finally this, could be a turning point, a moment of desperation where we might collectively seek a different way of being in the world.

But aside from all of those global concerns, what about your own family. Your own faith journey.
I have places where I am ready to grow and deepen my relationship with our Creator and my spouse and my loved ones, places I’ve neglected and forgotten about in the busyness of life.
Places that I thought were doing okay… but that I’m now recognizing are a bit fuzzy and unclear.
I hear that happens as you get older.
Things get a bit more fuzzy and unclear and you need a little help.
We all do.
Honestly, no matter how old or young we are…
no matter how much we have studied scripture…
no matter how frequently we talk to God in prayer…
we all need help seeing God’s plans for our lives sometimes.
We all need help recognizing where God is in the midst of it all.

But as soon as we admit it…
As soon as we start looking…
As soon as that desperation creeps in…
When we fall on our knees in humility…
It appears.
An opportunity to put our faith in the one who can see.
That invitation to trust and let God lead us.
And the reminder that we aren’t on this journey alone.

I love that this tale of the wise ones in Matthew’s gospel isn’t the story of one person.
It’s about a group of people who put their lives in God’s hands.
And that’s what church is all about, isn’t it?
We need each other for support and for guidance.
We need one another to help interpret the signs and experiences that we have.
Each one of us brings to the scripture a fresh perspective.
We each have different gifts that complement one another.
Some of you may be teachers, others healers, some may be full of hospitality and others have the ability to lead.
It will take all of our skills together on this journey, along with the grace of God.
We are the body of Christ, in this place and in this time.
And none of us can do this alone.
We must ask for help, we must look to one another for guidance, and we must be willing to admit we don’t have all of the answers.
And as this new year turns, if we want to discover something new, then we need to be a little bit vulnerable and open to however and wherever the Spirit may move.

In many ways, that is what Epiphany is all about.
Epiphany is the revelation of God to the world.
And it didn’t happen just once with some magi from a foreign place….
No, God was continually revealing Godself throughout the life, death and resurrection of Christ…
and Jesus is still being revealed to us today through the Holy Spirit.
But sometimes we need to renew our journey with God, we need to ask for help, so that once again we can focus in on Jesus.

So over the next few weeks, our journey will take us along the paths of many people in the scriptures who have experienced “little epiphanies” – people who saw a glimpse of the fullness of God.
We will walk with John the Baptist in the River Jordan.
We will follow the disciples as they heard a call and experienced his teaching and miracles, and we will end up on the mountain where Jesus stood transfigured before Peter, James and John.
As we make this journey, I hope and pray that we will see Christ clearly.
I hope and pray that through him, God might again show us a way.
I hope we will see how our own lives need to be transformed because of what we have learned.

The magi saw a star in the sky that they believed would change the world.
And they got up and did something as a result.
They honored the Christ Child not just through their gifts.
But they took risks.
They made sacrifices.
They left behind what they thought they knew because they knew something so much better was in front of them.
That’s what I hope for you and for me and for all of us in this season.
I pray that we might be able to see with new eyes and new clarity just what God has in store.

The poet W.H. Auden wrote “to discover how to be human now / is the reason we follow this star.”

That is the journey that is before us.
To discover how to be human now.
To discover how to follow Christ now.
To discover what it means to be God’s people now.

It’s a journey that will take some faith.
And some trust.
And maybe just enough desperation that we can actually, really, truly surrender.

There is a prayer from our tradition that has often been used in this turning of the year to recommit ourselves, to reclaim God’s covenant, to renew our own journey of faith.
We have a modern paraphrase of Wesley’s Covenant Prayer and as we turn into this new year, I invite you to join with me in praying it together…

Sing! Play! Summer! – Hymn of Promise / In the Garden

Posted on August 11, 2019Leave a comment

Text: Isaiah 46:8-13

I’m just going to say it out loud…
these have been some difficult weeks we have shared together:
The loss and grief we have experienced…
The pain in the world in the wake of mass shootings and the crisis of migration and climate…
The sense of helplessness about being able to do anything to make it better…

When I find myself feeling discouraged, vulnerable, and down about the world, it is usually the church that helps me to feel better.
The people… the songs… the prayer… the time spent in the presence of God.
But as United Methodists these days, there is also a sense that the church itself is stuck. Broken. Falling apart. We are so busy arguing about who is right and what should be done that we are completely out of tune with the real, deep needs of the world.

But then I sat down and began to study a number of chapters from our lesson for this morning.
God called this prophet to speak a word of comfort and release to a community in exile:
“Speak compassionately to Jerusalem and proclaim that her compulsory service has ended.” (40:2)
“I am the Lord your God, who grasps your strong hand, who says to you, Don’t fear; I will help you.” (41:13)
“I, the Lord, will respond to them; I, the God of Israel, won’t abandon them.” (41:17)
“I announced, I saved, I proclaimed, not some stranger among you. You are my witnesses, says the Lord, and I am God.” (43:12)
“Look! I’m doing a new thing; now it springs up; don’t you recognize it? I’m making a way in the desert, paths in the wilderness.” (43:19)
“Listen to me, house of Jacob… who have been borne by me since pregnancy, whom I carried from the womb until you grow old. I am the one, and until you turn gray I will support you.” (46:3-4)

“Remember this and take courage; take it to heart, you rebels… I am God! There’s none like me who tells the end at the beginning… saying ‘My plan will stand; all that I decide I will do.’” (46:8-10)

God, through Isaiah, is not speaking to a bunch of people who have it all together.
This is not a message for the perfect or the righteous.
This good news isn’t offered to people who have never known pain or hardship or frustration or grief.
No… they are wallowing in it.
Their country has been destroyed. Their loved ones killed. Their very way of life has crumbled.
They are struggling to make sense of what it means to go on, to take the next step, to move forward when everything familiar has been taken away.

And the words they hear from their God… The words WE need to hear from God…
“this, too, shall pass.”
“Don’t be afraid.”
“Remember.”
“Look around for the gifts in the grief.”
“I’ve got you.”
“In the beginning is the end, in the end is the beginning.”

Do any of those words offer answers? No.
Do they make it better right now? No.
But they do remind us that we are not alone.
They remind us that human life and institutions are fragile… just like the grass that dries up and the flower that withers (Isaiah 40:8)… but that we have been and are and will be held by and sustained by a word and a promise and a plan and a power that has always been and always will be.
These words of comfort offer strength when we might collapse in despair.
They invite us to be present. To pay attention. To embrace the unknown.
To trust that this moment is not all of the story or the end of the story.

This summer, we have been exploring the favorite songs of Immanuel and today we have grouped together two hymns that sing aloud those truths: “Hymn of Promise” and “In the Garden.”

When Natalie Sleeth wrote, “Hymn of Promise,” she was inspired by a line from T.S. Eliot that “in our end is our beginning” and the way the world itself reawakens with every spring. What is the nature of life and death when we hold in our hearts the promise of resurrection?
This hymn is yet another of these great songs we have been sharing that was written by a United Methodist. Her husband was a UM pastor and taught homiletics at Perkins while she shared her love of music in a local church and began writing anthems and hymns. She is the composer who brings us “Joy in the Morning” and reminds us that songs rise from silence, darkness becomes light, and death gives way to the victory of life.
But what I appreciate the most about Sleeth’s work is that it doesn’t paper over our grief or our discomfort or pain with flowery words.
It dives right into them.
She acknowledges them.
And she creates room for us to embrace that even in that brokenness and apparent death the mystery of wholeness and life and peace that is on the horizon.

We need to hang on to that mystery of the unknown.
I’m reminded of the words of Matt Rawle, whose book, “What Makes a Hero?” we studied over Lent a couple of years back.
He talked about the reason why it was so difficult for people to embrace Jesus as their Savior because we want a magic wand. We want a superhero savior who “will just swoop in and fix [ our problems].” (p. 125)
But if that savior is headed towards the reality of death – there is no saving there for us.
The crowds of people drastically misunderstood how Jesus saves us.
The kingdom Jesus ushers in doesn’t start in some heaven far away, but right here and right now.
Like a mustard seed planted in a garden or yeast hidden in flour, the kingdom breaks forth out of what we thought was dead, buried, hidden away.
The kingdom is the power of new life rising out of death.
The kingdom says that in every end there is a new beginning.
Our God can take any and every broken and painful moment we experience and redeem them.
They don’t go away.
But they are transformed.

Even the death of Jesus unexpectedly brings something new out of what we thought was over and done with.
Not immediately… but with time and work and patience and not a little bit of grace and power and glory.
The mustard seed becomes a great tree.
The yeast causes the bread to rise.
In the bulb there is a flower.
The stone that sealed the tomb is rolled away.

Which takes us to that other beloved hymn of Immanuel – “In the Garden.”
I say it is beloved, but the truth is, there are probably just as many people who despise “In the Garden” as cherish it.
I remember working to plan Dorie Campbell’s funeral and as we were deciding on what songs to sing, we picked “In the Garden,” fully knowing that she would have been upset with us for doing so because she thought it was grammatically inaccurate. Others find it to be too overly personal and ever erotic.
C. Austin Miles wrote this hymn after a mediation upon the resurrection story in the gospel of John. The language he uses is personal and intimate and it draws upon a tradition of devotional poetry where one imagines themselves in the story itself, part of the scene, walking and talking with Jesus.
We are invited to step into the shoes of Mary… to enter that garden filled with grief and love… and to encounter the resurrected Christ and the joy of new life.
But we also can’t stay there.
You see, in the third verse of that hymn, we find ourselves with a dilemma.
Sometimes we want to stay at the tomb with the stone rolled away.
That one perfect moment of hope when everything had fallen apart.
It’s better. We tell ourselves.
I’m going to stay right here forever.

But we can’t stay at the empty tomb.
We need to listen to the voice of Christ calling us to go.
Go out into the world.
Go and tell others what we have experienced.
Go and share the good news.
Go and offer signs of life and hope.

Like the prophet Isaiah, in the midst of the grief and pain of the world, we can’t keep the hope and promise to ourselves. It is our duty to head back out there and offer it to everyone we meet.
“this, too, shall pass.”
“Don’t be afraid.”
“Remember.”
“Look around for the gifts in the grief.”
“I’ve got you.”
“In the beginning is the end, in the end is the beginning.”

Sing! Play! Summer! – Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God Almighty

Posted on July 14, 2019Leave a comment

Text: Isaiah 6:1-8

“We keep a troubled vigil at the bedside of the world,” writes Howard Thurman, “Thus we clutch the moment of intimacy in worship when we become momentarily a part of a larger whole, a fleeting strength, which we pit against all the darkness and the dread of our times.

We don’t have to look too far to see darkness and dread hanging over our lives.
Illness and violence.
Poverty and oppression.
Impacts of the climate crisis.
Bullying in our schools and in our politics.
Grief and loss and discouragement.
These are the things that keep us up at night.

Thurman writes that “the moment of intimacy in worship” allows us to recharge our spiritual batteries and face once again the struggles of the world.

The moment of intimacy in worship.
The moment we personally encounter a holy, living, powerful God.
The moment when we become close to a God who is wholly other.

I think we often 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.
We imagine that God is just like us…
Or sometimes, that we are like God…

But the truth is, when we are facing a world of darkness and dread and problems that are just too big to tackle, we need an encounter with something… with someone… who is far beyond anything we can know or comprehend.

I am reminded of King Uzziah, whose story frames Isaiah’s encounter with the God from our scripture today.
King Uzziah was ruler over the southern kingdom of Judah and he came to be king at only 16 years of age. According to scripture (2 Kings 14:21, 15:1-7 and 2 Chronicles 26: 1-23) , he did what was right in the sight of God and had a powerful and successful reign over Judah for fifty-two years.
But all of the success God brought the nation went to King Uzziah’s head.
In the wake of military victories, Uzziah provided top of the line armor and weapons for his soldiers and fortified the city of Jerusalem with towers and archers and traps.
He was demonstrating his power, rather than trusting in God’s power.
His pride became such a problem that he entered the holiest place in the temple… that special room at the very center that only the high priest was allowed to enter, and he walked in like he owned the place and burned incense to the Lord.
Instantly, leprosy came upon Uzziah because of his prideful action and he was a leper until the day of his death.

Uzziah forgot that only God was holy.

But as his reign came to an end, Isaiah began to have visions.
He receives vision after vision of the failings of his nation, and the bloodshed and oppression his people have created when they relied upon their own might to solve their problems instead of relying upon God.

And in the year King Uzziah dies, Isaiah has an intimate encounter with the Lord.
A holy, living, powerful God.
Isaiah sees the Lord upon a throne, with just the hem of God’s robe filling the temple.
Winged creatures, seraphim flew about shouting to 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 fears for his very life: “Mourn for me; I’m ruined!”
He cries out acknowledging his own unholiness.
His own unworthiness.
The unrighteousness of his people and his nation.
God sees it all… and then this wholly other and almighty God draws close.
A glowing coal touches Isaiah’s lips.
His sin and guilt are gone.
And God sends Isaiah back out to face the darkness and dread of the world with a renewed sense of purpose and power.

This vision of the holiness of God also inspires the apostle John.
He writes the book of Revelation in a time of persecution and distress and the visions he receives bring comfort to those who are oppressed.
But again, John doesn’t encounter a God who is our friend or who is just like us…
When we are faced with true darkness and dread, we need a power that is far beyond our comprehension.
John has a vision, in Revelation chapter 4, in which a door is opened to heaven:
“I saw a throne in heaven, and someone was seated on the throne. The one seated there looked like jasper and carnelian and surrounding the throne was a rainbow that looked like an emerald. Twenty-four thrones, with twenty-four elders seated upon them, surrounded the throne… From the throne came lightning, voices, and thunder. In front of the throne were seven flaming torches, which are the seven spirits of God. Something like a glass sea, like crystal, was in front of the throne.
In the center, by the throne, were four living creatures encircling the throne. These creatures were covered with eyes on the front and on the back… [they had different faces and] each of the four living creates had six wings, and each was covered all around and on the inside with eyes. They never rest day or night, but keep on saying, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is coming.”
As we move to the next chapter, the Lamb appears, and then we think we might find a familiar imagine, but John’s vision describes it in this way:
“I saw a Lamb, standing as if it had been slain. It had seven horns and seven eyes, which are God’s seven spirits, sent out into the whole earth.”

The holy one is nothing like us.
Nothing like anything we experience upon this earth.
Nothing else is worthy of devotion.
Nothing else is perfect in power, in love, and in purity.
Nothing else could have created all things.
Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty.

These words from Isaiah chapter 6 and Revelation 4 inspired Reginald Heber when he sat down to write a hymn for Trinity Sunday.
He was a vicar in Anglican Church and had begun to put together a hymnal based around the church calendar. As he looked around for songs that spoke to the various times of the church year, he realized that he was lacking songs for that Sunday which emphasizes that doctrine of the Trinity. So, he wrote one himself.
Heber wanted to capture in this hymn the utter holiness of God in the midst of a world full of vices.
Stanton Nelson points out that the text “encourages the singer to join in an endless song” – a song sung by heavenly creatures stretching back as far as Isaiah and John and still being sung today.
Nelson also points out a few unique ways that Heber emphasizes God’s holiness.
First, if you look at the text, every line of the hymn rhymes with the word, “holy.”
Second, Heber doesn’t resort to any kind of “cheap emotionalism.” He allows us to sing of the Trinity without taking away from the mystery, the otherness of who God is.
As Heber writes, “though the darkness hide thee, though the eye of sinful man thy glory man not see.”

In a world of darkness and dread, we cannot always see the holiness of God.
But the act of worship, we can open ourselves up to an intimate encounter with God.
Do we recognize the awesome and holy and other power of God in our midst?
When Moses encountered this God in a burning bush, he was told to “come no closer! Remove your sandals for the place you are standing is holy ground!” He hid his face, afraid to even look at God. (Exodus 3:5-6)

Are we aware that there is risk involved whenever we are in God’s presence?
The book of 2 Samuel tells of how David and his select warriors went out to bring home the ark of the covenant after it had been stolen away. They brought hearts filled with praise, but when one man reached out and touched that holy vessel by accident, he died on the spot. (2 Samuel 6:15-16)

We hear these stories from the Hebrew scriptures, but too often today, we underestimate the power of truly being in the presence of God.
We are comfortable in our sanctuaries.
We sit in the same seats near friendly faces.
We watch our children play and share stories.
We sing hymns in the same way we have sung them a thousand times.
Worship has sometimes become so routine that we enter this place like King Uzziah… we come in as though we own it and like we deserve to be here.

I think sometimes, we have lost our sense of what it means to truly encounter a God that makes us uncomfortable.
A God that can shake the very foundations of this room.
A God that has the power to topple kingdoms.
A God that overcame the forces of death.
A God that heals and restores and creates a new.
A God that was is and is and is coming.
A God that is light and in whom there is no darkness at all.
A God that causes saints and cherubim and seraphim to throw off their crowns and fall on their knees.

This intimate moment that we call worship has nothing to do with instrumentation or the style or the music or what we are sitting on.
It has everything to do with personally and corporately encountering the One who has the power to change everything about our lives and the world we live in.
It is a moment not where we show God how great we are, but we offer ourselves, with all of our flaws and weaknesses, and let God transform us and use us to counter the darkness and dread of the world.
Only God is holy.
Only God is worthy.
And when we open ourselves up… even for just one moment… to connect and be drawn close to this God… we do find the strength to head back into this world with a renewed sense of purpose and power.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Sing! Play! Summer! – Chainbreaker

Posted on June 16, 2019Leave a comment

Text: Isaiah 58:6-9, Psalm 107:10-16

For the first 20 or so years of my life, I understood salvation as one concrete idea: that Jesus died for my sin on the cross.
Substitutionary Atonement is what we call it. Jesus took our place. He was our substitute and paid the price for our sins so we could go to heaven.
But before too long, I discovered that I was terribly mistaken.
Not about Jesus dying for our sins.
But about thinking that was all salvation meant.

In its fullest sense, “Salvation is ‘God’s deliverance of those in a situation of need… resulting in their restoration to wholeness.’ It is restoration because salvation does not offer something new; it is God’s original intent for creation.” (Introduction, The Lord is Our Salvation)
The best word I can find to describe that original intent, the life that God intends for each of us is the word shalom.
It means completeness, wholeness, well-being.
And God’s work of salvation in Jesus Christ rescues us from whatever hell we might experience in our lives that has destroyed shalom, so we might experience life and life abundant once again.

Christ dying and paying the price for our sins is one piece of that work of salvation. But it isn’t the only one.
In fact, in the Western world, there are three major understandings of what the cross means, all different ways of talking about how Jesus saves us.
These are called atonement theories.
They describe how we become at-one again with God… how we are brought back into shalom… how we experience wholeness once again.
The first is the one most of us grew up being familiar with – a Forensic understanding of salvation. These theories say we are like a defendant on trial and have been found guilty of breaking our covenant with God. So, a penalty must be paid. Jesus knows we are guilty and out of love, pays the price for us. He satisfies the debt we owe.
The second is called Moral Example. This grouping of theories claims that the cross is the natural outcome of the life of Jesus, who spoke truth to power and dared to love those who society rejected. And in his life and death, Christ shows us how we should live, too.
The third of the major groupings is called “Christus Victor” – Christ as the Victor! This theory talks about an eternal battle between the forces of this world… good and evil, life and death, abundance and scarcity. We find ourselves trapped and imprisoned by sin and destruction, but Christ comes to set us free and restore us to wholeness.

In Psalm 107, this story of God’s redeeming love is told.
Some wandered away and found themselves lost and starving, but God rescued them from their trouble and led them back home.
Some were foolish and stumbled down a destructive path, but God rescued them from death itself and healed them.
Some set out to make their own way and their own pride became their cage, but God rescued them and brought them out of their distress to safety.
And some became prisoners, sitting in darkness, suffering in iron chains because they rebelled against God’s commands. But God rescued them and broke away their chains.

We were lost, but now are found.
We were trapped by addiction, but now we are free.
We were dragged down by our addiction, but we have been lifted up.
We were drowning in our fears, but we have been brought back to the shoreline.
We needed freedom and saving, but we’ve got a prison-shaking Savior.

For a couple of years now, we have been singing, Chainbreaker, in our contemporary worship service. Written by Zach Williams, it captures those redemptive stories of Psalm 107 and invites each of us to tell the story of how God has invited us into a better life.
Williams had been doing prison ministry through his church and wanted to speak to what God had been doing through the lives of the people he worked with… but his own life as well.
He had found himself for years walking a dead-end road and kept hearing a voice that said he wasn’t going to make it. That he was a failure. That he wasn’t good enough.
And to be honest, that is all of us. We are not good enough. We are trapped by our own mistakes and failures. We buy into the lies of this world that tell us we cannot fully claim our identity. We let our worries and our addictions and our pride bind us up like chains.

As we say in our prayer of confession before communion:
We confess that we have not loved God with our whole heart.
We have failed to be an obedient church.
We have not done God’s will.
We have broken the law.
We have rebelled against God’s love
We have not loved our neighbors.

We are those prisoners, suffering in iron chains, sitting in darkness.

But then comes the line we pray after we ask for forgiveness:
Free us for joyful obedience.
Free us for joyful obedience.
Free us.

Williams found himself trapped by that voice in his life that told him he wasn’t good enough… until Christ came along and set him free from the weight of the guilt and the chains that he was carrying around.
He found a liberating freedom and joy in surrendering his life to Christ.
But he also realized that this freedom was not a personal gift.
No, it was meant to be shared.
And there is great joy and life that is found when we in turn head back out into this world to set others free.

In Isaiah chapter 58, the people have been trying to please God in their own way, but the prophet reminds them of what God wants from them.
This is the kind of fasting that God has chosen:
“to break the chains of injustice,
get rid of exploitation in the workplace,
free the oppressed, cancel debts.
What [God is] interested in seeing you do is:
sharing your food with the hungry,
inviting the homeless poor into your homes,
putting clothes on the shivering ill-clad,
being available to your own families.
Do this and the lights will turn on, and your lives will turn around at once.”

This morning, we sent out volunteers from our church to be in mission in Memphis. As they make that long drive today, they are heading out to souls that are hungry and burdened and stuck.
Our friends and neighbors and family have the opportunity this week to tell their own stories of God’s saving love, but also help to break some chains themselves.

But you don’t have to go on a mission trip to joyfully obey God’s will.
Right here in Des Moines, you can help us tackle hunger with your food pantry donations.
You can work to honor the dignity of women and girls and speak out against human trafficking.
You can volunteer with local refugee support groups.
You can donate your funds to our annual Peace with Justice Sunday offering – which is used to help effect change in a broken world.
This offering is used to support ministries like a peace ministry on Arizona border communities and address civil rights violations in Liberia.
In North Georgia, it helped provide resources to help low-income students attend preschool.
Grants from this offering have supported the Alaska Innocence Project, that helps to exonerate wrongfully convicted individuals.

This is what God wants for us.
God wants to rescue us from the hell we experience in our lives.
Jesus wants to save us from our guilt and addiction, from our sin and temptation, from our fears and our failures.
And then the Holy Spirit empowers us to turn back around into our communities and neighborhoods so that we can help take away pain, make a way for the lost, and break the chains of all who need freedom.

The story of salvation… the story of how we are made at-one with God… is about far more than a personal debt being paid.
It is also the story of coming home… of finding our place… of being rescued from anything that holds us back so that we can be restored back into the abundant life of community God desires for us.
That better life that waits for us is not simply a heavenly destination beyond the grave…
There is a better life right here and right now, for all of us, because Christ has set us free.

Your Greater Purpose

Posted on July 23, 2018Leave a comment

Text: Isaiah 1:10-20

This morning’s scripture… wow.
These are the words God speaks to the prophet Isaiah as he is called into service. This is the message that Isaiah is called to shared with the kings and rulers of Israel, the children of God.
God, who created them…
God, who rescued them from slavery in Egypt…
God, who formed them into a people…
God, who loves them now is filled with anger and frustration and heartache.
The children God raised have rebelled.
They have abandoned God’s ways and have turned against one another.
And yet in their worship, they pretend as if everything is okay.

Isaiah is sent to these rulers to point out that there is a disconnect between their practices and their praises of God.
They claim to be faithful.
They go through all of the motions.
But their actions inside the sanctuary have no impact on what they do when they leave the temple. The poor, the needy, the strangers in their midst are suffering… sometimes in the name of God.
All of that worship… and there is nothing different in their daily lives, or in the lives of their neighbors, because they have spent that time with God.

Des Moines University reports that nearly 30% of Polk County households were food insecure at some time during 2017. 30% of households couldn’t put enough food on the table.
The median income for African American households in Polk County is $26,725. That number is less than half of the median income for all households in the county.
86% of households earning less than $15,000 annually live in housing they cannot afford. That number of $15,000/year is a full-time job at minimum wage. The Polk County Housing Trust Fund estimates that 8,350 affordable units are needed in central Iowa to meet current needs. Based on fair-market rent for a two bedroom apartment, Des Moines/West Des Moines employees must make at least $16.83 an hour.
The impacts of these numbers:
Homeless children are 2x more likely to have a learning disability, repeat a grade, or be suspended from school.
Low-income students are 4x more likely to be chronically absent, often for reasons beyond their control due to unstable housing, unreliable transportation, or lack of health care.
Of third-grade students who qualify for free and reduced lunches, less than 60% read proficiently.

These are realities of our community.
These numbers reflect choices we have made as participants within it.
They reflect who we as employers hire and how much we choose to pay them.
They reflect the investments we’ve made in public education – how we support teachers, taxes, our giving of volunteer hours.
They reflect decisions about zoning, real estate investment, infrastructure, health care and who we have elected to make decisions about those policies.
They reflect the vast need for organizations like Hawthorn Hill and Bidwell Riverside.

And so God speaks:
I hate your worship.
Your prayers make me nauseous.
Organ or electric guitar… who cares? – I loathe your music.
You focus on the color of the carpet and what you sit on and I’ve had enough.
Your sermons offend me.
Who asked for the offering plate to be passed around?
That sweet smell of King’s Hawaiian bread at communion stinks.
Do you know why?
Because even though you hear my words and sing my praises, you live your lives as if none of it matters.
Stop.
Listen again to my words.
Pay attention to what I have called you to do.
Work for justice.
Help the down-and out.
Stand up for the homeless.
Go to bat for the defenseless.

God is inviting us to not simply worship, but to go out and be in ministry with the most vulnerable people in our midst. As our call to worship reminded us – we are not here to tell God how awesome we are… we are here to remember how our awesome God hears the cries of the needy, hears OUR cries, and then responds through the hands and feet of every day people like you and me.

There is so much in this world that can distract us from that core purpose.
We find ourselves in competition with other churches to offer the best programs and attract the most people.
We get sucked in by the temptation we discussed in this week’s chapter of “Defying Gravity” to cling to the gifts and abundance in our lives, rather than holding them loosely and sharing them with others.
I personally find myself overwhelmed with the desire to keep the peace, to hear all of your various points of view and find the happy medium in decisions we make… that sometimes I forget to go back to the basics and ask what God wants us to do.
And so, we all need to hear these words from Isaiah.
We need to shake loose the cobwebs of our memory.
We need to allow these words jolt us back into alignment with God’s greater purpose for our work and worship together.

The good news is that we are already responding to this call in so many ways.
Our gifts to the DMARC Food Pantry Network put healthy food on the shelves at Bidwell-Riverside.
Our contributions in various special offerings have provided couches for the common space at Hawthorn Hill and playground equipment for their kids.
On a weekly basis, volunteers from Immanuel take milk and juice to the shelter for families to use over the weekend.
Through time, through prayers, through money, we are making an impact on those statistics I named earlier.

A young woman named Amie arrived at the New Directions Shelter, one of the ministries of Hawthorn Hill in October of 2014. She was a brand new mother and walked in off of the street with her newborn after Child Protective Services deemed their home environment was unsuitable. Amie and her daughter were able to stay at New Directions for about a month while she worked to make the adjustments and fill requirements from CPS. She was soon able to find an apartment and a job that would help her get back on her feet.
In her exit survey, Amie wrote:
“I just want to say thank you to everyone for helping me achieve my goals during my stay. I’m so blessed I found you all! I feel that New Directions has helped me become a better mother to my daughter!! There isn’t enough room on this paper to describe how grateful I am to you all! I would so love to give back one day and become a volunteer. Thank you so much!”
Since then, Amie has moved to a new job with Bidwell Riverside and was promoted to a Shift Supervisor. She is using her gifts and her compassion to help families experiencing food insecurity. She’s going back to school at DMAAC to work on an Associates in Human Services. And, she has gone back to New Directions to do volunteer work – helping to organize an Easter Egg for families who are there over the holidays.

This is what happens when we allow God’s greater purpose to lead us.
This is what happens when we create opportunities for vulnerable neighbors to be transformed… when we work with them, listen to them, and empower them to thrive.

When we don’t just sing about getting to heaven, but actively work to help our neighbors experience heaven right here.
When our worship and our witness stand up for the defenseless…
When our offerings are used not to build up our egos, but to build the Kingdom…
When we allow God’s word to shape and form not only this hour, but every hour of every day…
When we leave this sanctuary and head out into the world, still crying out – Here I am, Lord, send me…

Then we will have been transformed into the people we were meant to be by God.
Rich or poor, young or old, sinner or saint… we are all God’s children.
And God has a purpose for us.

Rise Up!

Posted on January 7, 2018Leave a comment

As we gather this morning to worship, we are looking backwards towards these strange individuals who saw a star in a sky and who let it take them to a manger in Bethlehem.
They heard God speaking through that heavenly vision… maybe not in so many words, but in a language and a message that they could understand.
They were stargazers, astronomers, people who identified with the light.
And when God spoke to them, they arose.

“Arise, shine, the light has come” we hear in Isaiah, chapter 60.
Arise! Shine!

These are not words spoken only in far off lands to far off people.
No, God is still speaking.
The message of old is still being heard throughout this world.
Even in the midst of times that seem dark and troubling, painful and chaotic… there is a still small voice that is whispering:
“Arise… shine…”
In his reflection on these texts, Rev. Dr. B. Kevin Smalls notes (https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/worship/season-after-epiphany-2018-worship-planning-series/january-7-2018-god-is-speaking/epiphany-baptism-of-the-lord-2018-preaching-notes) that sometimes the darkness in our lives is so thick that we don’t trust the things that resemble the light:
“Might be a trick… and tricks don’t always
Lead to a treat, so I retreat in the darkness,
Hoping, slightly, ever so lightly that
My deepest fears will submit to the changing
Of dark gears leading to light years of praise
And adoration.”

We like to believe that we are the people of the light, like the Magi, but there certainly are times that we refuse the light.
We hesitate to take a risk, a step of faith.
We are comfortable in the darkness, in what we know, in what is familiar.
As Smalls writes,
“Darkness is for lying down, laying down, hanging around, pretending to be asleep.”
And wow, it feels good to pretend to be asleep. Or to actually be asleep.
To close our eyes and ignore what is happening outside of our lives, our homes, our neighborhoods, our country.
And so we get complacent in the midst of a changing climate and culture.
Statistics that should make us quake with their injustice barely faze us.
• Black women in the United States are 243% more likely to experience maternal death than white women. (https://www.thecut.com/2017/12/black-women-are-3-times-more-likely-to-die-from-childbirth.html)
• Every day, 46 children and teens are shot in murders, assaults, suicides & suicide attempts, unintentional shootings, and police intervention (https://www.bradycampaign.org/key-gun-violence-statistics)
• 1 in 5 adults in the United States or 43.8 million people experience mental illness in a given year (https://www.nami.org/Learn-More/Mental-Health-By-the-Numbers)

But usually, we are too nice and kind to want to have real conversations about racism or gun violence or mental health.
We hesitate to talk about these things in church or to ask how God might be speaking, calling, pushing, begging us (the people of God) to respond.
Maybe we are like the people of whom Isaiah was speaking…
You see if we turn just one chapter ahead in that prophetic text, these people felt like:
“justice is far from us and righteousness does not reach us; we wait for light, and lo! There is darkness… we stumble at noon as in the twilight, among the vigorous as though we were dead.”
They were sitting back, retreating into the darkness, waiting for someone else to do something about it.
“Hoping, slightly, ever so lightly that
My deepest fears will submit to the changing
Of dark gears leading to light years of praise
And adoration.”

But then Isaiah comes along with the reminder that we can’t just sit back and wait for our fears to go away.
“Arise, shine, the light has come”
Maybe those old words aren’t quite seeping deep enough under our skin to be heard and felt.
Let me try it again from the Message translation:
“Get out of bed, Jerusalem! Wake Up! Put your face in the sunlight. God’s bright glory has risen for you!”
God’s glory has risen for you… So what on earth are YOU going to do about it?

The Magi in our scripture rose up… they got out of bed and they followed where God was leading them.
Over field and fountain, moor and mountain, that star in the sky was their guiding light until it took them to the place where the child was.
And when they arrived, they could barely contain themselves.
They felt an overwhelming kind of joy, the Gospel of Matthew tells us, that was born out of the sense that they were in the right place at the right time.
So they fell on their knees and worshiped that little child.

You and I… we are called to get out of bed, to shake off the sleep, to open our eyes and put our faces into the light and to hear where God is calling us to go.
As we start a new year, of ministry together, I have such a fire and energy in my heart.
I can see all sorts of amazing things that God has in store for us if we would simply put our face in the sunlight and head out into this world.
This church is so generous, so powerful, so filled with talent and compassion and love.
And as we have risen up and followed God’s leading – I know that many of you have experienced that immense joy that comes from being in the right place at the right time… from finding that place where your gifts have met some great need in this world.
We experienced that kind of joy in our gigantic Joppa garage sale.
We experience it as we laugh and serve together at CFUM.
We experience it when we dress up in ridiculous costumes to help our young people understand something in confirmation.
Or when our children teach us the nativity story on Christmas Eve.
And in all of these places, we are also discovering the joy of realizing that we are not alone!
There are all sorts of other people on this journey with us. People who have the same kinds of yearning and hopes and fears… and who are ready, with us, to rise up and to truly make a difference in this world for the sake of Jesus Christ!
They are sitting right here in the pews with you.
But they are also outside of these walls – our neighbors here in the community – who might have the same kinds of passion and see the same needs, but might not use the same faith words to describe it.

Maybe they are the Magi – the strangers, the Gentiles, the ones who we didn’t know, but who have been on this journey as well, to bring light and hope into the world.

God is speaking and leading all around us…. Giving us opportunities to bring hope and joy and light and love to all we meet. Together, let us rise up to seek them.

Prepare the Way

Posted on December 3, 2017Leave a comment

As that short film reminded us, there 65 million refugees and forcibly displaced persons in the world today.

That is roughly thirty-two times the number of people who live in Iowa.
In fact, if you added up the populations of the whole North Central Jurisdiction of the UMC – both Dakotas, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio – you’d only reach a population of 57 million. You’d have to also throw in Nebraska and Missouri.
65 million people across this planet have had to leave their homes in order to survive… and I thank God that the United Methodist Church is responding in love and compassion towards these people – providing support, health, welcome, opportunities, and hope.

But I must admit that I am challenged by our Advent texts for this morning that ask a very difficult question.
Welcoming the stranger, the migrant, the refugee is one thing…
How are you going to help clear the way for your neighbors to someday return home?

You see, when Isaiah proclaims his words of comfort to the people of Israel, he is not simply talking about making a way for God’s presence to be known…
No, a way, a literal path, is being made for the exiles in the land of Babylon to go back home.
After being forcibly removed from their homes and carted off to a land of strangers, Isaiah was proclaiming that the time had come to return.
And all obstacles were being removed… the mountains were being leveled, the valleys being filled… anything that might keep the people from finding their home once again would be swept away.
Perhaps one of the most visible group of refugees in the world today are Syrians. We are haunted by the images of those little ones on the beach and moved by the gratitude of those whose families make it to the shores of a distant land.
This weaving that usually sits outside of my office is made from life jackets and clothing that have been collected along the shore line in Greece. Refugee women put their entrepreneurial spirit to work in making these beautiful creations that are a powerful reminder of their journey.
In this season, as we think about how not only people, but the entire planet longs for Christ to come once again and usher in the Kingdom, I am reminded that the roots of the Syrian conflict that led these families to leave their homes started with a drought.

Syria is a region that was the birth of human civilization. It is known as the Fertile Crescent, a land of rivers and agriculture and the flourishing of life. But from 2006 – 2009, the region experienced an extreme drought… the worst seen in a millenia… the culmination of “a century-long trend toward warmer and drier conditions.”
This drought was a catalyst for the conflict, because as many as 1.5 million people fled from rural to urban areas after failed governmental policies to mitigate the damage and crop failures, adding to social stresses and anger at government leaders.

In fact, the United States military has now classified climate change as a “significant strategic threat” or a “threat multiplier” that leads to instability in various parts of the world.
We now are in the sixth year of a violent conflict that has left nearly half a million dead and has forced 11 million from their homes.

Climate scientists see two potentially permanent shifts in the climate of this region that contributed to the severe drought – “a weakening of winds that bring moisture-laden air from the Mediterranean and hotter temperatures that cause more evaporation.” Natural causes cannot account for such a drastic shift… only when you factor in the human impact on the environment can you make sense of the data.
When I hear John the Baptist standing on the banks of the River Jordan, crying out for us to prepare the way of the Lord… I also hear him calling for us to repent.
For too long, we have considered this planet as a resource to be plundered, instead of as a gift to be protected. We have allowed our desire for convenience to change our habits as consumers and we buy and throw away material goods at an alarming pace.
Instead of leveling mountains and raising valleys, places like Cedar Rapids are literally creating mountains out of our trash…

Someday, I pray to God, when peace comes to Syria and the conflict ends, the reality of a changed landscape and climate patters still has to be reckoned with.
So the question for us today, is how do we need to repent… how can we help clear the way and change our practices, so that these places might once again be fertile and sustain life?
How can our actions today help prepare the way for future generations to return home?

When I think about how the world has banded together through the Paris Climate Accords, our efforts to curb global warming are not an effort to bring about restoration, but merely to prevent the worst from happening. And even then, the goals are only aspirational.

What we truly need is to repent, change our ways, and work to restore creation.

In past years, I have listened to the wisdom of a group called Advent Conspiracy. They believe that Christmas can change the world if we focused on four simple things:
1) We need to worship fully. We need to dive into our scriptures and these texts from Isaiah and Luke in order to remember the one who has called us to live differently in this world.
2) We need to spend less. We need to let go of the endless need to consume and buy that is wreaking havoc on our planet. 99% of everything that we purchase will end up as waste products within 6 months. 99%!
3) So their third call is to give more… not of stuff, but of presence – relational presence. We need to spend more time with one another rather than money.
4) Lastly, we need to love all people – and remember the poor, the forgotten, and the marginalized

In all of these things, we can make a significant impact on creation around us. We can stop putting money in the pockets of the most wealthy and stand on the side of the oppressed. We can work for the restoration of relationships, rather than buying happiness. And we can answer the perennial call to live differently upon this world.

In many ways, this is what Mary is proclaiming in her song as well.
She glorifies the Lord who chose her… a young, poor, female servant.
She cries out God’s praises for pulling the powerful down from thrones and lifting up the lowly, filling the hungry with good things and sending the rich away empty handed.
She sees in the new life that is growing within her the possibility that all who fear, all who are oppressed, all who have not will be able to find a way to thrive in God’s kingdom.

This Advent and Christmas is an opportunity for you and me to repent and change our ways.
We can take stock of our endless consumerism and instead seek to live more faithfully and gently upon this earth.
We can advocate for policies and practices that help us to reduce our impact upon this world.
We can personally do our part to reverse environmental harm – whether it is in our own backyards or halfway across the world.
And someday, as a result of our actions, we will have helped make a way for all of God’s creation to return home…

Around Every Corner

Posted on October 8, 2017Leave a comment

This summer I have harvested quite a bit of produce from my garden.
Tomatoes and peppers and cucumbers in particular.
I put up 7 quarts of salsa, 4 quarts of spaghetti sauce, 8 quarts of dill pickles, 4 quarts of sweet and spicy pickles, some pickle relish, and I’ve frozen 10 bags of roasted tomatoes.

My pantry is literally overflowing with the bounty from my garden, and you want to know what thought crossed my mind after this week?

Pickles and salsa won’t feed us if there is a disaster.

As I thought about all of the folks in Puerto Rico who are struggling with access to food and water and electricity, I tried to imagine what my family would do in that situation.
As the rhetoric has continued to rise with North Korea, I wondered what you actually could do to prepare for if the unthinkable happens.
As I sat and listened to colleagues at a Creation Care conference in Indianapolis yesterday, I heard them say that the UN no longer talks about climate change mitigation or prevention, but climate change adaptation… I began to think about how I personally need to start adapting.

If you turn on the television or scroll through your facebook feed or listen to the radio, there are a thousand threats to our health, safety, and security.
We lost 59 people last Sunday to a violent rampage from a man whose only motive appears to be that he wanted to shoot as many people as possible.
Our hearts began to race when a traffic accident in London outside of a museum yesterday was initially thought to be an act of terrorism.

The simple truth is that we have no clue what might be lurking around the corner. We can’t see what the future might hold and sometimes we allow fear to be the defensive mechanism that either keeps us from moving forward or which guards our hearts from those around us.

We aren’t the only people in history to have been afraid.

The scripture that Don read as a part of the drama just a few minutes ago comes from the 41st and 42nd chapters of Isaiah.
The people of Israel had sinned against one another and God and the prophet was called upon to bring judgment.
And for 39 chapters, Isaiah lists the sins of the people and names all of the things that would happen to them as a result.
And they did.
Everything they feared came to pass.
Jersualem was destroyed.
The people were carried off to Babylon.
Life as they knew it ended.
And they weren’t quite sure what to make of their new life.
But then Isaiah speaks into their midst once again:
“Comfort, comfort my people!” says your God.
“Speak compassionately to Jerusalem and proclaim to her that her compulsory service has ended.”
The turnaround from chapter 39 to 40 is abrupt and stark. Christopher Seitz notes that this is because “ a word is being spoken from the void, against all hope and all expectation, by God.” (NIB – VI – 328)

Against all hope and expectation.
When everything appeared to be the darkest.
With the future completely up in the air and uncertainty around every corner.
God speaks:
Do not be afraid, I am with you.

God is inviting the people of Israel to not only trust in God’s presence in the midst of a difficult time… but God is inviting them to transform their fear into curiosity and purpose and assurance.

First, rather than be afraid of the things that is happening, the people are invited to become curious and inquisitive and to allow God’s power and majesty fill them with awe.
In fact, if you read through chapters 40-48, you will find God asks a heck of a lot of questions!
Who measured the waters in the palm of a hand or gauged the heavens with a ruler? (40:12)
To whom will you compare me, and who is my equal? (40:25)
Who has acted and done this, calling generation after generation? (41:4)

I think one of the ways we can respond to the fears that creep into our lives is to be curious as well.
In the midst of a changing neighborhood and world, instead of walling ourselves off in fear, we can ask questions about what is happening and why. We can get to know our neighbors and read up on the roots of conflicts that we experience.
One of the things churches often struggle with is finances – always fearing that we will not have enough for the next year.
That fear can stun us into silence or it can keep us from taking risks and stepping out in faith.
So one way that we can turn that fear into curiosity is to look deeper into trends in giving and learn about ways to reach new people and we can invite one another to think about stewardship in new ways.
Curiosity, learning, exploration – these are all antidotes to fear.

Second, God gives the people purpose in the midst of their fears.
As our reading continued into chapter 42 of Isaiah, God tells the people that he has a job for them to do.
“I have called you for a good reason… I will give you as a covenant to the people, as a light to the nations, to open blind eyes, to lead the prisoners from prison.”

When we look out at all of the things in this world that might cause us to be afraid – it would be easy to hunker down in our homes or within the walls of this building.
But God has given us a vision and a purpose, too!
God is calling us to engage deeper, to build partnerships and get to know our neighbors, to live a life of love, service, and prayer…
And just like the Israelites were not only supposed to be a light, an example, but were supposed to get out and heal and set others free… we believe God is calling us to help heal the lives of our members and friends and neighbors and community.
God wants us to be a part of restoration right here in this place.

Finally, God gives the people assurance.
Don’t be afraid, for I am with you.
You are not alone.
No matter what you are going through, I’m right here beside you.

I think this is perhaps the most important part of this message.
Because you know, fear can keep us from a lot of things.
It could keep us from visiting museums or hanging out in public places.
It could keep us from going to concerts.
It could lead us to build bunkers in our basement and never leave them.
It could keep us from doing the work of God in this world.

Every so often, folks stop in here to Immanuel and ask for some gas. We take them up the street to the Git-n-Go and fill up their tank.
Now, I’m a young woman, who doesn’t know much self-defense, and one of our previous Administrative Assistants was always afraid for my safety as I walked up the street to the gas station.
She was worried that the person might do something bad to me, or kidnap me, or some other unknown thing.

But you know what?
God is with me.
God has given me (and us) work to do.
And disaster and tragedy and violence might strike any person, at any moment, in any place.
It is all completely out of our control.
What is in our control is the work of Jesus Christ in this world.
And if something happened to us while we were trying to live that life of love, service, and prayer… well, God is with us.
God will be with us if the unthinkable happens.

Do not be afraid, I am with you.
I have called you each by name.
Come and follow me.
I will bring you home.
I love you are you are mine.

We are God’s.
And we have work to do.
In fact, in the midst of a world filled with fears and brokenness, we have even more work to do.
God has called us for a good reason…
We have the work of healing and wholeness and hope to do.