Jesus – Salvaged Faith

Help!

Posted on June 11, 2023Leave a comment

Text: Psalm 40:11-17; Matthew 26:36-39;

Good morning friends!

We find ourselves in the season of Pentecost.

The season of the Holy Spirit.

Those first disciples of Jesus were transformed into apostles…

leaders of a community of people that tapped into the power of God for good in the world.

You know, as much as we think about that phrase from the gospel of John…

that the world will know you are my disciples… they will know you are Christians… by how you love one another (John 13:35)…

I think this early Christian community was known by its prayer life.

Just after the ascension of Jesus, there were about 120 folks that were part of the Jesus movement who all gathered together.

Luke tells us that “all were united in their devotion to prayer.” (Acts 1:14)

And when Pentecost came ten days later… where were they?

Gathered together in prayer!

On that day, as their community grew by leaps and bounds, we are told that these thousands of new believers “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to the community, to their shared meals, and to their prayers.” (2:42)

And everyone around them was amazed by what they saw.

Prayer is powerful.

Prayer is power.

It is one of the key ways that we stay connected with God.

It is how we allow the Holy Spirit into our lives: our minds, hearts, and souls.

And as I thought about what I wanted to say to you in these last few weeks…

As I thought about what might be the most important thing I could leave you with…

I kept thinking about how important it is that we are a people of prayer.

It is part of our vision after all – isn’t it?

In Christ, we live a live of love, service, and prayer.

And I know you to be a praying people.

We knit and perl and crochet together prayers for others.

We add our neighbors and friends and family to our prayer list.

But I’ve noticed something else about this church…

We are great about praying for others…

but we sometimes struggle with lifting up prayers for ourselves.

Maybe it is because we don’t want to admit that we don’t have it all together…

Or because we don’t want to be seen as bragging about the good in our lives…

Or maybe we aren’t sure if it is something we need or deserve.

The writer Anne Lamott describes prayer as:

“…taking a chance that against all odds and past history, we are loved and chosen, and do not have to get it together before we show up. The opposite may be true: We may not be able to get it together until after we show up in such miserable shape.”

Did you hear that?

We might not be able to get it together… until AFTER we show up in such miserable shape.

You don’t have to have all the right words, or have it all figured out.

You just need to start.

Over these next three weeks, we are going to talk about what Anne Lamott describes as the essential prayers for our lives:

Help.

Thanks.

Wow.

When I think about those three prayers, but especially the first one, “Help!” I realize that God already knows what we need.

God already knows what is happening in our lives.

Really the question is… are we aware?

Can we be honest with ourselves?

Are we willing to admit that we are not in control?

Perhaps this kind of prayer is easy in moments of true desperation.

In 1815, the playwright Hannah More, described how, “under circumstances of distress, indeed, prayer is adopted with comparatively little reluctance; the mind, which knows not where to fly, flies to God. In agony, nature is no Atheist.”[i]

Later in World War I, people would talk about how there were no atheists in the trenches and foxholes.

In those moments when we truly have run out of options, and nothing is left, we cry out, “Help!”

In our scriptures for this morning, we hear two variations on this prayer.

The Psalmist finds themselves surrounded by evil and sin.

Troubles are piling up, counting more than the hairs on their head.

They cannot see a way out.

Their heart… their hope… fails them.

“O Lord, make haste to help me!”

As The Voice translation concludes this psalm:

“I am empty and need so much, but I know the Lord is thinking of me. You are my help; only You can save me, my True God. Please hurry.”

In the Gospel reading, Jesus himself is described as grieved and agitated.

He knows that betrayal and death are just around the corner and it is more than his soul can bear.

And so first, he cries out to his friends for help… “remain here, and stay awake with me.”

But then he cries out to God:

“My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me…”

Save me… rescue me… from what I am about to go through.

There are those moments of true and utter desperation that show up in our lives.

Life and death moments…

Rock bottom moments…

When there is literally nothing else that we can do besides ask for help and prayer from those around us.

But I’m far more aware of those more everyday situations where we might need help and prayer, but we hesitate to speak up.

We hate the feeling of vulnerability and think that we should be stronger than we are.

I can do this on my own, we say.

We don’t want to bother others with what we are going through.

Or we worry about what they might think of us if they knew that we were having a hard time.

Most of you don’t know my spouse, Brandon, because he’s not a “churchy” guy.

Deeper than that, he has some experiences that have put him off from religion and we’ve established some good boundaries to help respect one another’s beliefs and needs.

I so appreciate all of you in this church for also doing so and allowing him to be who he is.

Just over two years ago, we found ourselves going through a rough patch.

I have preached on mental health, talked about suicide and depression, walked with many of you through those moments… but suddenly, there it was on my own doorstep.

Brandon was experiencing feelings of hopelessness and depression and anxiety… and we were able to reach out and get him connected with the resources and therapies that he needed.

But there were some incredibly difficult moments along the way, including a 9-1-1 call in the middle of the night when he had a poor reaction to a change in one of his medications.

And as much as Brandon needed help in those moments, so did I.

I knew I couldn’t fix it… but that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel shame or guilt for not being able to do so.

I needed help and strength to walk that journey with him.

And I’m so grateful for a group of friends and colleagues who answered midnight texts and kept checking in on us and allowing me to vent when I needed to do so.

I’m so grateful for members of this staff and SPRC committee that created a safe space for me to share and talk about what was going on and who kept Brandon and I in your prayers.

But as I was thinking about this sermon, I also keep asking myself why I didn’t share all of this with all of you while it was happening.

Part of the reason is that Brandon himself was not ready to talk about it in a bigger way… and with worship being online, I didn’t want to share more of his story in such a public space…

It is one of the reasons why we aren’t sharing more intimate details and names of prayer requests in worship… because we are now livestreaming worship every week, we hold those more personal details for our internal prayer lists.

But I also think my own hesitation to share in a bigger way reflects why it is difficult for all of us.

We don’t want to bother others.

Or we don’t want it to change our relationship with them… worried that they will only see our weakness.

Or you know what… maybe we simply want a space in our lives where we can pretend that everything is okay.

As your pastor, I think I worried about it impacting my ability to show up in the way you needed me to… even though, it was impacting my ability to show up in the ways you needed me to.

And what I needed, but maybe was unable to communicate, was some extra grace as I spent a bit more time at home and when I couldn’t be as available as I wanted to be.

I just kept doing what I could, hoping that things would be okay.

I fumbled along… rather than asking for your prayers.

Rather than crying out, “Help!”

Lamott describes this as the hardest prayer, because we are admitting defeat:

“You have to surrender, which is the hardest thing any of us do, ever.”

It is not easy to say, “I can’t fix this.”

We struggle with admitting that things are not okay… sometimes even to ourselves.

But then Lamott goes on to say: “a lot of the time we don’t know when we’re surrendering that we’re actually, at the same time… establishing connection… to a power greater than ourselves.”[ii]

We “open ourselves to being helped by something, some force, some friends, some something.”

When we turn to God and when we turn to our fellow disciples with a prayer of “help!” we don’t just find answers… we find community.

We find people who are not just willing, but eager, to walk alongside us.

We find a God who has always been faithful and good and who will never stop loving and caring for us.

It is why the Psalmist is able to not just cry out for help, but to acknowledge the joy that comes to those who seek him.

And it is why Jesus, in his great prayer of desperation can reconnect with his Father, placing his life in God’s hands… Not my will, but yours.

In saying, I trust you with this… we are also saying, I am in relationship with you.

Friends, when we share our own prayers for help with each other, we are saying to one another:

I believe that you care for me.

I trust that you are in this with me.

And I know the power of God that is with us will continue to give us strength not just for this, but for anything that might come our way.

In asking for help, we are creating the opportunity for us to be blessed by one another.

That doesn’t mean that you need to feel pressure to air all your struggles with the whole body.

It is perfectly okay to have a smaller group of friends and disciples that you trust to walk with you… a friend or two that you know you can be honest and vulnerable with.

Even Jesus chose to take along just a few disciples for his intimate time of prayer in the garden.

I needed that during my struggles… and was so grateful I had it.

But I also want you to remember and to know that this is a praying church.

That if you ask for help and are willing to be vulnerable and share those needs with us, we will be here for you.

We will be united in our prayers, quick and eager to help and respond and show up with whatever might be needed.

Like that early Christian community, we are people who love one another, want what is best for one another, and are willing to share and surround each other with the love and grace and mercy of God.

And I think that when we have the courage to be vulnerable and surrender, we will find that God will simply pour out even more power and strength upon us.

May it be so.

Amen.

[i] 1815, An Essay on the Character and Practical Writings of Saint Paul by Hannah More, Volume 2 of 2, Fourth Edition, Chapter 19, Quote Page 232, Printed for T. Cadell and W. Davies, London.

[ii] https://www.npr.org/2012/11/19/164814269/anne-lamott-distills-prayer-into-help-thanks-wowMusic:

RESET Purpose

Posted on September 18, 2022Leave a comment

Text: Mark 1:32-39

A few weeks ago, I was leading a meeting with other clergy in our circuit about our shared ministry.

We got to the end and before we closed, I asked the question… is there anything we’d like to do differently for our next meeting.

One of my colleagues timidly raised their hand.

“Do you think we could, I dunno, maybe spend a bit of time in prayer before we start?”

In my last-minute rush to put together the details for the meeting, I had completely left prayer off the agenda.

And since it wasn’t written on the page in front of me, we hadn’t done it.

Before he died in 2021, my friend Junius Dotson wrote a book called, Soul Reset.

He talks about how, when you play baseball, you have to touch first base.

You could have a fantastic hit and make your way around the diamond, but if you miss the bag at first base, the run doesn’t count.

And the same is true in the Christian faith.

Our first base, the most important base to touch, is to touch base with Jesus.

We can do everything else, have the best meetings in the world, launch the best projects… but if we have missed spending time with Jesus… we haven’t gotten anywhere.

We’ve missed the very point and purpose of what we are there to do.

On Monday evening, about 20 of us gathered for a workshop with Rev. Dr. Jaye Johnson to talk about some possibilities for a new leadership structure.

As he talked about how meetings are designed with a single board or one board model, he shared that one third of the meeting needs to be spent focused on our spiritual lives.

We need to spend time with God and one another.

We need to ground ourselves in the love of God and love of one another.

If we leave that out…

If we miss it…

Then we have skipped over the very core of what we are there to do.

We can get so caught up in the agenda and the to-do list.

We can get distracted by the details.

We can feel pulled in lots of directions.

We have to make sure that we touch first base.

We need to center ourselves in God before we do anything else.

Even Jesus takes time to do this.

Our scripture for this morning comes from the gospel of Mark and one of the things about the way Mark writes is that it feels like our modern lives.

Everything happens so fast.

It’s all condensed and you jump from one place to another.

Jesus is here and then immediately goes there.

It is easy to get whiplash!

Yet, even in the midst of that constant movement and urgency, Jesus shows us how important it is to pause and spend time with God and rediscover what we are supposed to be doing.

In fact, maybe it is because everything is moving so fast that this is so important.

In verses 14-34, Jesus begins his ministry, calls disciples, teaches in the synagogue, casts out a spirit, heals people with diseases and drives out demons.

We are told that the whole town gathers at the door!

He has been up late into the evening caring for all of these people around him and it is very easy to imagine that he could just set up shop in the town of Capernaum doing what he does best.

I mean, he is hitting it out of the ballpark!

But the next morning before the sun comes up, he spends some time in prayer.

To go back to that baseball metaphor, he touches first base.

He grounds himself in God’s will and purpose for his life.

And I can imagine Jesus asking questions like…

“Is this where you want me, God?”

“How can I make the most difference?”

“What is the best use of my time and energy today?”

You get a sense that there is still work and healing and ministry to be done in Capernaum, because the disciples come looking for him.

If you look at different translations of this one phrase you find things like:

“[they] searched everywhere, looking anxiously for Him” (AMP)

“[they] tracked him down” (CEB)

“[they] hunted for him” (NRSVue)

You get a sense that they followed him, like stalkers, impatient for him to get back to work.

Any parents in the room feel that way when your kids wake you up early in the morning?

There is always more to do.

There is always something that demands our time.

There is always another meeting, another project, another mess to clean up.

There are things all around us that feel necessary, right?

But because Jesus has taken this time away to center himself, he is able not to react to all of the demands upon him, but to respond out of what God wants him to do.

He is able to set some boundaries.

He is about to be clear about his purpose.

He can live with intention.

So his response to the anxiety-filled requests of the disciples is, “I can’t stay here any longer. I am needed elsewhere.”

He says, “no” to the people of Capernaum, so that he can say “yes” to God’s bigger picture and his greater purpose.

Or, as the writers with Breakthrough Worship remind us, he is able to trust that God will handle the rest.

I remember a story told by Bishop Sally Dyck, who is now retired, about a small church in a bedroom community.

They noticed that young couples would start to attend worship, and pretty soon they were having babies, and they had a lot of toddlers in their church.

But when the children got a bit older, those families would move to a larger church in the nearby city.

The church was distressed by this and felt like they were failing.

They didn’t have the resources to expand their ministry and compete with the children’s program at those bigger churches.

This church community began to pray and seek God’s will and what they discovered when they really listened is that they had a purpose.

Their church was an incubator for families.

Their job was to help these families get off to a good start and then bless them as they launched into other places.

There is always more that we could do.

Another ministry to start.

Another project to undertake.

But we don’t have the energy and the resources to do it all by ourselves.

And we don’t NEED to do it all.

To take that baseball analogy one step further… you can’t play all of the positions at once.

Someone among us has the skills to be the pitcher, but they need someone else to play catch with.

Our task is to figure out our piece… our purpose… and to trust that God will take care of the rest.

Whether that is equipping another congregation or another person… we can trust that there are others on the team, working for the Kingdom, and that we just need to play our part.

As a congregation, we have spent time with God over the years and have figured out our core vision and purpose.

We will live lives of love, service, and prayer so that all who are hungry are fed by God’s grace.

We feed people in worship through music, prayer, and sacraments.

We feed people who are hungry for connection through elder buddies and coffee time.

We feed people who are hungry to go deeper in their knowledge and love of God through small groups and classes.

And, we feed people who have empty bellies with our little pantry, Joppa, and other local ministries.

We can’t do it all, and we don’t need to do it all…

we just need to focus on doing our part and trusting that God is building up and equipping other churches and congregations and community organizations to do the rest.

The same is true in our individual lives.

There are things that are tugging at you from every corner.

Projects that need done, people that need attention.

Everything is important, isn’t it?

Have you ever been busy doing good and worthwhile things, but felt like something was missing?

Maybe it is because we are simply reacting to what is in front of us, running to and fro.

What would it mean instead to set some priorities for this season?

What would it mean to figure out your role, your position?

What if you created space to spend time with God and to listen for your purpose?

There are a lot of different ways that we can go about this.

Jesus had to get up before dawn to find a quiet space to be with God.

Maybe it is your morning commute.

Maybe it is a day a month you set aside to be in nature.

Maybe you create a spot in your house where you can sit and pray and listen.

And I think you can simply ask a few questions like…

“Is this where you want me, God?”

“How can I make the most difference?”

“What is the best use of my time and gifts and energy in this season?”

When we know our purpose it makes it easier for us to say “yes” and “no”.

Because we know WHY we are saying yes and no.

We can be intentional about what we give our energies towards.

But… it also means that we can start to let go of the guilt we feel when say no in order to focus on a greater good.

We can spend that time in prayer placing it in God’s hands… trusting that God will make a way and is already at work helping that need or situation to be cared for.

Friends, each and every single one of us is beloved by God, just as we are.

And we all have been called and equipped for a purpose.

So, let’s step up to bat.

Let’s ready ourselves to do God’s work.

And let’s not forget to touch first base… to touch base with God… as we set out into the world.

If we do… whatever we do… will be a home run.

Soul Reset

Posted on September 11, 2022Leave a comment

Text: Luke 3:21-23

This July, I walked back into my gym for the first time in more than two years.

When everything shut down in March of 2020, I tried to do the online workouts for a bit.

When the gym reopened, I wasn’t ready to go back and sweat and breathe with large groups of people in a small space.

I tried to make my own plan and we bought a weight bench and put it in the basement.

But I never really got back into the swing of doing things on my own.

I definitely wasn’t paying attention to other areas of physical health like what I was eating.

And you know what… my body felt it.

I started going to the chiropractor and physical therapist because of aches in my shoulders and back.

I had less energy and I was drinking a whole lot more coffee to get through the day.

And I realized that I was treating symptoms instead of going back and looking at the cause.

I had stopped taking care of my body and I no longer had a group to be accountable to.

So, in July of this year, I signed back up for classes and I’ve gone at least four times a week for the last two and a half months.

My family has been more conscientious about eating healthier food.

I pushed the reset button.

And I’m starting to feel better.

How many of you can relate to some part of that story?

To falling away from a practice that was working for you?

To trying to solve the problem by focusing on symptoms instead of causes?

To finally pushing the rest button and starting again?

You know, I just shared that experience about my physical health… but I could just as easily have told the exact same story about my spiritual health.

The other day, I was sitting in my office,

juggling an email from someone who needed rental assistance,

preparing for a meeting about episcopal elections,

trying to figure out what prayer to add into the worship service,

when my smart watch buzzed at me.

It said, “Your stress level seems high. You should take a breathing break.”

Oh.

Thanks.

I looked up from the keyboard and my star word from Epiphany is taped to the wall.

“Contemplation” it reads.

Contemplation in the Christian faith is a form of prayer or meditation where we sit still in order to experience the divine.

Next to my desk is a pack of these little 20 minute candles.

Each is designed to burn for just 20 minutes so that you can take a short break to unplug, pray, and renew.

They were a gift from a dear friend and I wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.

But here I was, sitting at my desk, swamped with important ministry tasks, with a thousand signs all screaming at me saying the same thing.

Maybe you need to stop and be still with God for a minute.

Maybe you need to stop rushing around to fix all the problems and recenter yourself.

Maybe you need to recharge your spiritual battery.

Maybe you need to remember who God made you to be.

Maybe you need to push the reset button in your spiritual life.

Just as I could tell you about the symptoms I was trying to treat with my physical health, I can tell you about some of the symptoms of an unhealthy spiritual life:

Reacting out of our emotions – like lasting out in anger… or ignoring them all together.
Pretending like we don’t have flaws and we haven’t made mistakes.
Dividing our lives into “secular” and “sacred” compartments
Getting busy doing FOR God instead of being WITH God.

Do any of the items on that list resonate with you?

Maybe we all need to push that reset button.

Maybe we all need to stop focusing on the symptoms like stress and busyness and instead start taking care of our spirit.

And the good news we hear from the book of Lamentations that God’s mercy and grace are new every morning.

We may not have been consistent… but God is faithful.

God keeps showing up.

So whenever we are ready to push that reset button… there God is waiting for us.

Where do we start?

You know, one of the things that I have heard from several people is that they stepped away from church for a time during the pandemic and realized that they weren’t missing a lot.

It had simply become one more thing to do, in the long list of things that keep us busy.

If anything, the pandemic has been a time to refocus on what is really essential in our lives… and maybe Sunday morning worship just didn’t seem so essential anymore.

I think part of that is because of how we have gone about worship.

We have treated it like another item on our to-do list rather than an opportunity to be in God’s presence.

We have isolated our spiritual life to an hour or two on Sunday morning and then forgot about it the rest of the week.

We showed up in our Sunday best and didn’t give ourselves… or others… space to be vulnerable and real about what is happening in our lives – the good and the bad.

In some ways, we’ve been playing right into those symptoms of spiritual unhealth.

Peter Scazzero calls this “using God to run from God.” (Emotionally Healthy Spirituality)

But you know what… one of the things that we have remembered and tried to embrace during this pandemic is that God is not contained solely within the four walls of this building.

God goes with us wherever we are.

United Methodist pastor and consultant, Rebekah Simon-Peter recently researched what happened to churches during the bubonic plague – which lasted for several centuries in Europe.

One of the positive things she discovered was a growth in lay-led spiritual movements.

The church of the time had been consumed by power and wealth, influence and politics.

But when the plague stopped everything in its tracks, she noted that people were hungry for a relationship with God, for relationships with each other, and found new ways to reach beyond the walls of the church.

The Black Death forced a kind of reset.

Covid-19 has, too.

I think that’s part of the reason that John the Baptist went out and set up camp at the Jordan River.

He knew that people were going through the motions of their faith.

They were focused on checking the boxes and doing what they were supposed to do… and not on focused on their relationship with God.

But once he started issuing that invitation… “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near!”… people started flocking from all over the place.

People really and truly were hungry for that experience of God.

They… we… are yearning for a chance to let go of our pasts…

To be made new…

To connect with something larger than ourselves…

John reminded them that this experience of baptism and washing yourself clean was only the beginning…

It couldn’t be compartmentalized but needed to become a part of their everyday experience.

It needed to change the way they lived and interacted with others.

He knew that all by ourselves we don’t have what it takes, but that with God’s help…

Well, with God anything is possible.

One day, as all of those people stepped into the waters to be baptized, Jesus stepped into the water, too.

The skies broke open.

The Holy Spirit descended.

And God spoke: You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

But as Debie Thomas wrote, “In receiving baptism, Jesus doesn’t set himself apart from us; he aligns himself with us.”

What that means is that we are invited into an experience of God with Jesus.

And, “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 have been doing some soul searching these last few months about what it is that we do in worship.

If we are just going through the motions, there really is no point.

God doesn’t want or need our busyness.

And God doesn’t want to be relegated to just an hour of our lives.

What if we pushed the reset button on what we do in worship?

How can we instead experience in this time that core truth that we are “united, interdependent, connected, one”?

What would it mean for worship to help us “sit with the staggering reality that we are deeply, deeply loved”?

I remember the day my youngest brother, Darren, was baptized.
Because they moved churches, he ended up as a junior in a confirmation class filled with sixth graders.

He was a foot and a half taller than the other students, and while he looked slightly out of place, those young kids looked up to him and they grew to be great friends.

And as he knelt to be baptized on confirmation Sunday, the pastor invited friends and family to come up and lay on hands… just like we do here.

Every single one of his classmates came and stood around us and reached out their hands, too.

Darren’s baptism was not just something to check off or going through the motions.

It was an experience of grace.

It was an experience of connection.

It was an experience of the reality that we are deeply, deeply loved.

I think part of pushing the reset button is coming into our time of worship EXPECTING to EXPERIENCE a connection with God and one another that affirms that we are loved.

I think it is creating space for us to be still and simply be in God’s presence so that we might hear and know that we are beloved.

And it is about being in a community of people who will not only affirm that love, but give us the opportunity to connect and share that love with others.

And my hope filled prayer is that what we experience here, with God’s help, will empower us live out that love in our everyday lives.

So we experience in worship a baptism…. And then in our daily life whenever you touch water… whether you are washing the dishes or stepping into the shower… let that water wash over you and remind you that YOU are a beloved child of God.

We experience in worship stillness and prayer… and we can find a quiet moment in each day to sit in God’s presence and simply be still.

We pray and confess in worship, and it helps us remember as we work and study and care for our family that your worth in God’s eyes does not depend on what you have done… but you are loved simply because God has declared it so.

We greet people with the love and peace of Christ… and as you go about your day and encounter other people, think of them first as a beloved child of God… see how it changes your interaction with them.

You see, that’s what our acts of praise and words of confession and moments of fellowship in worship are all about.

They are moments to encounter the holy, yes.

But they also train us to see others… to see ourselves… through God’s eyes for the rest of the week as well.

And YOU my friend… no matter what the world says or what kinds of labels it throws at you…

YOU are a beloved child of God.

Taste and See God’s Power

Posted on June 12, 2022Leave a comment

Text: Luke 24:28-32

One of my favorite experiences while on vacation just now was sharing tapas with Brandon at Jaleo – one of Chef José Andrés’s restaurants.

From a perfect slice of toasted bread, brushed with crushed tomatoes and garlic…

To an incredible dish of fried eggplant drizzled with honey and lemon…

And beautiful cauliflower roasted with dates and olives…

I left incredibly stuffed… and very happy.

Food is my love language.

Whether it is feasting with friends around a table, baking in the kitchen with my mom, breaking bread as a church family, or gathering over a potluck, food is about bringing people together.

And the Bible is full of stories about food.

As Margaret Feinberg reminds us in her book, Taste and See, “God handcrafted humanity to be dependent on food. The Creator could have required us to survive on air or water apart from eating, but He designed the human body so food is not an option but a necessity.

Even more delicious, God creates food as a source of pleasure… God imbues us with the ability to delight in eating.

But food in the Bible is more than a commodity to be consumed. It is often sacred and symbolic, showing up both on tables and in temples… [it] plays a significant role in helping us taste and see God’s goodness in our lives… and something beautiful happens when we gather around the table.” (page 16-17).

I didn’t just want to eat at Jaleo because I knew it would taste good.

I also wanted to support the work of Chef Andrés.

His organization “World Central Kitchen” proclaims that food is a universal human right. He understands that food has the power to give dignity and life.

They are often the first to the frontlines, providing meals in response to humanitarian, climate, and community crises and WCK has served over 70 million fresh meals to people impacted by disaster around the world… including being on the ground in Poland as refugees were fleeing Ukraine the day after Russia invaded Ukraine.

But this is not a dump of free food into a disaster area. As WCK notes – “food is the fastest way to rebuild our sense of community. We can put people back to work preparing it, and we can put lives back together by fighting hunger. Cooking and eating together is what makes us human.”[1]

Food has the power to transform our lives.

A piece of fruit reached for in the garden…

The sacrificial Passover lamb…

The manna from heaven…

The call for fishermen to lay down nets and become disciples…

The countless stories of people being invited, welcomed, fed…

The miracles of provision and healing and new life.

Our scripture for this morning is just one instance of how lives are transformed and the power of God is proclaimed as people gather around a table.

Two disciples have left Jerusalem after the crucifixion of Jesus.

They are despondent and grieving and aren’t quite sure what to do next.

But along the way, the resurrected Jesus appears and walks with them.

They hear him, they see him, but they don’t know it is him.

But when they arrive at their destination, they offer to him all they have – a place to stay for the night and a place at their table.

We read that he took a seat by their side at that table.

And he took the bread…

And broke it…

And they ate it…

And suddenly, their eyes were opened and their understanding was transformed and they recognized Jesus right there among them.

They finally grasped the power of the resurrection… the miracle of new life… and the promise of all of scripture.

And it happened during a meal at a table.

In another resurrection story, some other disciples decided to go fishing.

But all night long, distracted by their grief, they caught nothing.

From the shore, they heard a voice calling out for them to toss their nets on the other side and suddenly the nets were so full they couldn’t pull them in!

Feinberg spent some time on the Sea of Galilee and had the opportunity to catch what is known as the St. Peter’s fish… or an amnon – a type of tilapia.

Because it feeds on plankton, this kind of fish can only be caught with a net, rather than a line.

And, it’s the most delicious catch in the Sea of Galilee… and therefore also the most valuable.

She writes in her book that they had caught very few that day, until one of the fishermen saw them a little near the surface.

I always thought it was strange in the scripture of the disciples at the seashore on this resurrection morning that the scripture says one of them was naked, but as Feinberg describes it, once they saw these prized fish, they sprang into action and leaped out of the boat.

Those who didn’t have fishing waders stripped down to their skivvies.

They marched through the shallow marshy water, setting a barrier between the beach and the sea with the nets and driving the fish in to be caught.

After just two hours, Margaret and her guides had 150 pounds of fish (p. 36-37).

The disciples themselves experienced a miraculous catch… and in this powerful moment, they recognized it was Jesus calling out to them and rushed to come in for landing, dragging their own heavy laden nets behind them.

There, Jesus had breakfast ready.

Some fish on a fire and some bread.

But more than that.

I can imagine that before that moment, Peter carried in his heart turmoil over how he had turned his back on God.

He might even have started to believe that God had turned away from him.

That meal was also about the power of transformation, for Jesus sat down with Simon Peter and turned his guilt over denying him into a call to ministry.

“Feed my lambs.”

“Take care of my sheep.”

“Follow me.”

Margaret Feinberg writes that “if you search your everyday life for the presence of Christ, you’ll begin to see the extra provision, extra might, extra grace that he’s slipping you. The way he provides an unexpected compliment from a friend. Or a familiar face that you weren’t expecting in a crowded place. Or a breathtaking sunset. These displays of God’s power are good and beautiful, like the fish the disciples caught. But the greatest miracle remains the one who sent them.” (page 45)

I know that our lives our busy.

We might grab a granola bar and eat it in the car on the way to work or school.

We eat drive-thru for dinner between soccer games.

More of our meals are eaten in front of the television than around a table.

And yet, what better way to remember God’s power and provision than to take a moment to be thoughtful and grateful when we eat?

This week, I want to challenge us to stop and pray before every meal.

It doesn’t have to be a long, spoken prayer.

It can be a silent thought in your head.

Or maybe something that you share with your children around the table.

And I want to invite you to think about all of the ways that God’s power and provision have made that meal possible…

Think of the fields and the rain and the sun that were necessary to grow that food.

Remember the farmer and worker whose sacrifice of time made your meal possible.

Look for who is sharing that meal with you or who you might be able to invite to pull up a chair.

As Feinberg writes, “eating reminds us that we cannot exist alone; we are created dependent on others…” (Small Group Book, p.31)

And not just in order to get a cracker from a field to your table.

Some of our deepest hungers are not for a morsel of bread, but for someone to truly seek us and know us. To love us and forgive us and laugh at our stupid jokes. To listen and help us start down a path of healing. To remind us of who we are and to assure us that we have an important role to play in this world.

In the ordinary and everyday meals that we share, we experience the extraordinary and transcendent power of God.

The power to create and sustain life.

The power to bring people together.

The power to open our eyes and call us to new ministries.

The power to feed and share and sacrifice in love.

Friends, the psalmist invites us to “taste and see that the Lord is good.”

As we worship together, and study together, and eat together over the next month or so, I think we will discover not just a new way of exploring scripture… but that God will transform how we see the extraordinary gifts of power and love that are all around us.

[1] https://wck.org/story

The Lord’s Prayer: Our Daily Bread

Posted on March 20, 2022Leave a comment

Text: John 6:30-35; James 2:15-17

During this season of Lent, we are taking time to dive deep and explore together the prayer that Jesus taught us.

Already, we have thought about what it means to be in conversation and relationship with our Holy Parent.

We spent last week thinking about what God desires and intends for our lives – for all of creation to thrive under God’s reign.

And one of the threads that is woven throughout this entire prayer is that in all of these petitions, our attention is shifted.

We are invited to think bigger… to focus on “Thee and Thine” not “me and mine.”

But that shift is also away from a kind of individualistic “me, myself, and I” to the communal.

Every part of this prayer uses plural pronouns.

We are not just praying for what we want, but are called to be aware of the needs and hopes and yearning of others.

And that is one of the reasons I am so excited that we are joining in this study together.

Some of you have been participating in the small groups in our congregations.

But what you maybe haven’t realized is that other churches in our area are learning and exploring and praying with us.

For these next three weeks, Immanuel, Windsor, and Valley United Methodist Churches are making that connection more explicit as we share our pulpits with one another.

It is my honor to get to speak with you all today and I’m looking forward to how Pastor Lee and Pastor LaTonya will bless us all in the coming weeks.

This morning, we have the opportunity to focus on the third phrase in the Lord’s Prayer:
“Give us this day our daily bread.”

There they are again… those plural pronouns.

The Lord’s Prayer centers us in the body of Christ and our needs and responsibilities towards one another.

After all, food is all about community.

One of the things I have missed the most as a United Methodist over these last two years of Covid-tide is the potluck.

You know – where everyone brings something to the table.

Crocks of hamballs, jello salad, far more deserts than you could possibly imagine…

But even if it isn’t a large communal gathering, in our prayers and blessings for meals, we often invoke the truth that most food before us is only possible because of our shared life.

From the hands that planted crops and cared for animals…

To those who have harvested and butchered and packaged…

To the workers who brought our food to market and the people who work to sell them.

In the modern world, every time we eat, we do so thanks to others.

As the authors of Becoming Jesus’ Prayer write: “bread is a cooperative endeavor.” (p. 53)

We became far more aware of this reality early in the pandemic as so many of these employees all along the food distribution chain were labeled “essential workers.”

I find that particular language intriguing as we think about what it means to ask God for our daily bread.

For those of you who are reading along with us in the study book, Adam Hamilton points out that our English translation doesn’t quite capture the fullness of the original languages.

There is a word used here, “epiousian” which we translate in English as “daily.”

But it is an unknown word in the Greek language.

Breaking it apart, scholars guess that it could mean that which is “necessary” or “that which is needed for us to be”; something that is “sufficient” or even “essential.”

Give us today the food that is essential for life.

Our gospel text this morning comes shortly after the miraculous feeding of 5,000 people.

The disciples are quick to connect this amazing experience with how God provided for their ancestors in the wilderness.

They remembered how the Hebrew people were starving in the desert, having just left the land of bondage, but every day… well, every day but the Sabbath… manna came down from heaven and quails appeared every evening.

Every day, there was enough to fill their bellies and satisfy their hunger.

Every day, their essential needs were met.

But as Jesus responds to this eager group of followers, he tells them that God is not just focused on the kind of bread that fills our bellies.

The gift of bread from God, or the bread from heaven, gives life to the world.

And in doing so, he calls them… and us… to think beyond our individual physical need for food today to what is essential for all people to experience abundant life.

All across the world, there are children of God who do not know if they will eat today.

There are hospitals in war-torn areas running out of medicine and supplies.

We have elderly neighbors choosing between paying for groceries or their medications.

Families are fleeing violence with only what they can carry and are desperate for clothing and shelter.

For them, this prayer is a petition spoken out of desperation and a need for survival.

I confess that every single time I have prayed the words “Give us this day our daily bread,” there has been food in my cupboard and a safe, warm place to sleep.

Growing up, we didn’t always have a lot of resources, but we always had the essentials.

Just a few days ago, I threw out a loaf of bread that had grown moldy.

The truth is, compared to so many people in the world, I have more than I need.

And maybe that has been your reality as well.

And yet, Jesus calls us to pray these words.

And in doing so, they are transformed into a call to action.

I might have enough, but does my neighbor?

How am I called to put this prayer into action?

As part of the body of Christ, how can my hands and feet become the answer to the prayers of my neighbors?

This week, the DMARC offices are closed as they transition to larger facilities here in Des Moines.

This vital partnership between so many area churches, organizations, and individuals, is one way that we make sure that our neighbors are fed.

And more than ever, this partnership and effort is vital.

Food insecurity has continued to grow among our neighbors, rising 80% over six years (https://www.dmarcunited.org/capital-campaign/).

The new facility will triple the available warehouse space, completely change cold storage capacity, and will also house a permanent on-site pantry.

It is just one way that as a community we are putting prayer into action and making what is essential available to our hungry neighbors.

But this prayer calls us to do more than just share our leftovers or extra canned peas with those who lack food.

We are called to adopt this mindset for all that is essential to life.

St. Basil the Great famously wrote:

“The bread that you store up belongs to the hungry; the cloak that lies in your chest belongs to the naked; and the gold that you have hidden in the ground belongs to the poor.” (https://www.inspirationalstories.com/quotes/saint-basil-the-bread-that-you-store-up-belongs/)

I am reminded that when God provided manna to the Hebrew people in the wilderness, each day they had enough.

Anything that they tried to save and hoard and store up would rot away.

Maybe part of what it means to pray and work for our neighbors to have what is essential for their lives is to also reflect upon the excess of our own consumption.

It isn’t just the bread that molds in our cupboards.

It is also the dress that is too small hanging in my closet that could benefit a woman newly released from prison.

The bed taking up space in your storage unit that could benefit a family from Afghanistan that has found refuge in our community.

If you are anything like me, your heart has been broken apart over and over again by the stories coming out of Ukraine.

But one in particular that I think exemplifies the spirit of this particular prayer is from a train station in Poland.

Polish mothers began dropping off their old strollers for Ukrainian mothers arriving with nothing but the clothes on your back.

What is essential for life?

What do our neighbors need to thrive?

Every time we say this prayer, we are making a commitment to center our lives around what God intends for all of creation and that means joining Jesus in reaching out to people in need.

Whether it is food, or clothing, or shelter, or the money you have saved up, it all has the capacity to be a blessing to others.

We are praying for the strength to work and give and advocate so that others might have enough.

We are paying for the courage to see other people on the fringes of our community as children of God, people of worth and dignity who deserve food and shelter and health care and relationships.

We are praying for justice for our neighbors.

Our scriptures are full of passages that speak of God’s justice in relation to caring for the orphans and the widows, in concern for the strangers or sojourners, the prisoners, the sick, the slaves.

Because of circumstances beyond their control, each of these groups are kept from full participation in the community and find themselves without access to things that are essential for life.

As St. Basil would say, whenever we keep people from what is rightfully theirs – according to the principle of need – we are committing injustice.

But over and over, scripture tells us that God hears and God responds and God calls us to act as the people of God.

According to the Holman Bible Dictionary – “When people had become poor and weak with respect to the rest of the community, they were to be strengthened so that they could continue to be effective members of the community.”

God’s justice is about meeting the needs of our neighbors and restoring people to community.

It is our task and calling as the body of Christ to care for the poor and the marginalized.

To look out for the least among our siblings.

To band together, to hold one another up, to reach out to those on the fringes and offer each other life and life abundant through the power and grace of Jesus Christ.

We do so through prayer, but we also do so through what we share.

Out of our abundance of food and clothing, time and money, even hope and strength, we can reach out to impact the lives of our neighbors so that every single one of us has what is essential for life.

May it be so.

Amen.

The Lord’s Prayer: Our Holy Father

Posted on March 6, 2022Leave a comment

Text: Luke 11:1-10

This year as we journey through Lent, we are being led by prayer.

Well, one prayer in particular.

The prayer that Jesus taught us.

We teach it to our children.

We recite it each week in worship.

It is often a prayer that I will recite with families at the bedside of a dying loved one.

We know it by heart…

But has it sunk into our hearts?

I once heard a story about a church and every Sunday when the said the Lord’s Prayer, they turned around and faced the back of the sanctuary.

When a new pastor arrived, she was curious about this practice, but no one could remember why they did it that way.

That is until the church did some restoration work in the sanctuary.

As they stripped back layers of paint on the old walls, they discovered that at one time, the words of the Lord’s Prayer had been painted along that back wall.

In a time without printed bulletins, the church members had turned around to read the prayer from the wall.

Just as that congregation forgot why they said the Lord’s Prayer facing the back wall, sometimes we have forgotten the meaning behind the words that we speak.

We take the words for granted or rush through them without thinking.

Yet, contained within these beautiful verses is everything we need to know about our faith.

It reminds us of whose we are.

It tells us that we are not alone, but a community.

This prayer invites us to place our lives in God’s hands.

It asks for forgiveness and the strength to forgive others.

It calls us to acts of justice and compassion.

It is a prayer that can truly transform our lives… if we let it.

So, throughout this season of Lent, we are going to dive deep into this prayer and learn once again what it has to teach us.

Richard Foster once wrote:

“Real prayer comes not from gritting our teeth but from falling in love.” (Prayer: Finding the Heart’s True Home, p.3)

And that is because prayer is a relationship.

The Lord’s Prayer is recorded in the gospels of both Matthew and Luke.

In Matthew, it is included along with other teachings in the Sermon on the Mount.

But in Luke’s gospel, the disciples are seeking guidance.

As they seek to grow in their faithfulness to God, they ask Jesus how they should pray… and he teaches them.

But then Jesus expands upon this idea of prayer being a relationship.

When we pray, we are asking and seeking and requesting things from the one who created us.

Now, this idea that God as our parent is not new.

Throughout the Hebrew Scriptures, the prophets tell us that God thinks of Israel as a child… often a wayward child… but that God’s love is everlasting and unchanging, in spite of what the people might do.

Yet this prayer is not simply a metaphor.

God is not distant.

Rather at Christ’s own invitation, we join in calling God “Our Father.”

We are invited to approach God in the same way we might our own parent… knowing and trusting that we are loved and cared for and believing that God will respond out of that love.

There is a level of intimacy here, of deep relationship, of ordinary acts of care, that truly is like falling in love.

And at the same time, we are invited into a sort of paradox, for the name and presence of God is to be revered as extraordinary.

God is holy… and wholly other.

I am reminded of Exodus chapter 3, when Moses approaches the burning bush and hears a voice thunder around him… “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.”

Moses hides his face, afraid to look upon the divine presence.

In the midst of this exchange, God claims the people of Israel as his own.

God has heard their cries and can stand by no longer.

Like a parent who will rush to the rescue of a child who has fallen, God is acting to bring about deliverance for their suffering.

And yet, when Moses asks the name of this God…

When Moses asks, whom shall I say has sent me?

God replies – I am who I am.

A God who is distant, powerful, holy, undefineable…

A God who is close and intimate, full of love and compassion…

Our God is both of these things and more… all at the same time.

And thank God for that!

While it isn’t easy to wrap our heads around this paradox, the truth is that we need a God who is more than just an earthly parent.

The troubles and concerns of this world are far greater than any human could tackle.

The loss of life from tornados…

Deliverance from oppression…

Peacemaking in the midst of conflict – not just in Ukraine, but in Palestine, and Honduras, and Nigeria and in our country and in our families…

Healing and restoration from illness, disease, disaster, and death…

These are not simple requests and are far greater than asking for a loaf of bread.

We can only approach God in prayer with confidence because God is bigger than the problems we face.

But at the same time, a holy and powerful being that holds the life of the world in its hands can itself be a terrifying concept.

I am reminded of the eighteenth century Jonathan Edwards sermon, “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.”

Remember…Moses initially hid his face from God’s presence!

But Moses also came to understand God’s love.

During his time on the mountaintop in the presence of God, receiving instruction for the people, Exodus 34 tells us that the Lord proclaims again his name.

But then the Lord continues… The Lord, the Lord, is compassionate, gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands and forgiving wickedness, rebellion, and sin.

Coming to understand God as the one who is intimately concerned for my life, my welfare, my needs, allows me to let go of fear and rest in God’s presence.

We can trust that God truly does care about my needs and we are free to approach God in love expressing the yearning of our heart.

God is holy.

God is love and acts with parental love.

I am God’s child.

But there is one final piece of this first phrase that we cannot ignore.

While we do not capture it quite so clearly in Luke’s version of the prayer, it is part of the language we carry forward from Matthew’s gospel.

Jesus does not say “My Father.”

He does not ask us to think of ourselves as individual children.

We say “Our Father.”

Not once in this prayer do we say “I” or “me.”

Victor Hoagland recently shared a story about his close relationship with his eight-year-old granddaughter. She is the youngest of the bunch and they have had a chance to spend a lot of time together.

One evening, he and his wife invited all five of their grandchildren to come over for dinner and Hoagland noticed as they gathered that this little one seemed upset.

When he asked her what was wrong, she answered: “I thought I was the only one coming.”

Hoagland reassured his granddaughter of his great love for her… but also how much love he has for all of his grandchildren and that it was such a great thing they could all be together.

We often find ourselves in the shoes of that little girl.

We claim our relationship with this holy parent for ourselves, but we are not as quick to think about all of God’s other children.

And the truth is that prayer is not just about our relationship with God, but our relationship with one another.

We are called to consider that others are God’s children, too.

People we love, but also people that we can’t stand.

People we disagree with and people who are actively working to harm us.

People we have never met and those whose values and perspectives are vastly different than ours.

I have to admit that this concept hits me in a very different way this week.

Last night, my grandmother, my Babi, died from damage caused to her lungs by Covid.

I am navigating how to be present and offer love and care for family.

But it is hard and messy and complicated.

My family has been separated and split from one another by conflict that has gone unhealed for more than a decade.

And yet, we are all still family. We belong to one another.

But even more than that, we are all claimed by God as children.

Every time we say the words of this prayer, we are speaking into being the reality that we are connected to one another.

Our loved ones… our friends… yes… but even those who have caused us pain… even those we might sometimes think of as enemies… even those we struggle to understand or forgive.

We are all children of God.

And just as my own heart is full of concerns and fears that I bring before this Holy Parent, so too are others.

As the words of “This is my song” remind us:

“this is my song, O God of all the nations,

A song of peace for lands afar and mind.

This is my home, the country where my heart is;

Here are my hopes, my dreams, my holy shrine;

But other hearts in other lands are beating

With hopes and dreams as true and high as mine.”

Our. Holy. Parent.

This opening phrase of the prayer that Jesus taught us invites us to claim three truths:

God cares intimately about what happens in our lives and responds in love.

God is holy and powerful and has the capacity to act and transform.

And we are called not just to think of ourselves, but to recognize that we are connected in one family.

Over these forty days of Lent, we will continue to explore this prayer and learn more about what it teaches us.

But we are also invited not just to intellectually process these words, but to allow them to transform us.

And to that end, for this holy season, I want to invite you to claim a practice with me.

I want to invite you to pray this prayer with me not once per day, not twice, but three times every day.

I want to invite you to make it a part of your living and breathing as you go through your life.

I want to invite you to allow it to fall into your heart and settle in your being.

May it be so.

UMC 101: An Inclusive Church

Posted on February 20, 2022Leave a comment

Text: Luke 5:17-26, Book of Discipline – Constitution Preamble and ¶1-5, ¶140, and the new 6

Over this last month as we have worshipped with one another, there has been a recurring theme at the core of our tradition: God’s grace and love is for all.

The prevenient grace of God stretches out to all people, inviting them in.

When we become disciples, we are called to reach out in love to do no harm and do good to all we meet.

Grounded in the core of our faith, we create space for difference and open our arms to encounter people with varying languages and cultures and traditions.

We believe that God reigns over all of human existence, and we trust in the Holy Spirit to guide us as we seek responses that share the healing and redeeming love of God with all people.

And we go out, each uniquely gifted and equipped, to make disciples of all peoples and transform the world.

In our statement on inclusiveness in our Book of Discipline (¶140) we say:

“We recognize that God made all creation and saw that it was good. As a diverse people of God who bring special gifts and evidences of God’s grace to the unity of the Church and to society, we are called to be faithful to the example of Jesus’ ministry to all persons.
Inclusiveness means openness, acceptance, and support that enables all persons to participate in the life of the Church, the community and the world.”

In our Constitution, we proclaim that “all persons are of sacred worth” and “all persons without regard to race, color, national origin, status, or economic condition, shall be eligible“ to worship, participate, receive the sacraments, and become members of the church. (¶4)

The church… the Body of Christ… is for all… and needs all.

But the truth is we need these kinds of statements, because we have not always lived out this truth.

As we talked about last week, sometimes we have been more of a fortress protecting those inside, rather than a force out in the world seeking all people.

We have placed barriers on who was welcome and how they could participate.

We have created separations between races, genders, and classes.

Over the last few weeks in our Confirmation class, we have been exploring our United Methodist history. Each student presented on a different topic or person from our past and together we learned about people who did not experience the church as inclusive and open to all.

We learned about Richard Allen, a freed black man and ordained pastor who was sidelined in the Methodist Episcopal Church. He left our denomination due to the discrimination and formed the African Methodist Episcopal – or AME Church.

We learned about Anna Howard Shaw, who felt a call to ministry but was denied ordination in the MEC. In her journal she wrote, “I am no better and no stronger than a man, and it is all a man can do to fight the world, the flesh, and the devil, without fighting his Church as well.” (Story of a Pioneer, p. 123-124). She left the denomination and was ordained by the Methodist Protestant Church in 1880.

The Methodist Protestants themselves had left the denomination after growing concerns about the power of clergy and the exclusion of lay people from decisions.

The Free Methodists broke away from the denomination over their concerns for the poor after New England churches began the practice of charging for your spot in the pew!

Or what about the story of Bishop Andrews who gained slaves through each of his marriages and refused to set them free… his story became part of the rationale for why the Methodist Episcopal Church, South broke away from the rest of the denomination.

When the MEC, MEC South, and Methodist Protestants eventually merged back together in 1939, we learned about the segregation of the African American clergy and churches in the Central Jurisdiction.

We can find throughout our history these stories of exclusion.

But along the way, there were also folks who exemplified the spirit of our scripture reading for today… friends and colleagues who have torn down walls, built new structures, shattered glass ceilings, and burst through roofs in order to bring people to Christ.

Mark and Luke tell us the story of the crowds who gathered to hear Jesus preach in Capernaum. Five friends came together, four of them carrying their friend who was paralyzed.

But as anyone who might be vertically challenged like myself can attest, it is difficult to see over a crowd.

And it must have been even more so for this man on his mat.

The group tried to shoulder their way in closer, but to no avail.

And then they got creative.

They climbed to the top of the roof and began taking a part the tiles to make an opening above Jesus so they could lower him down.

They refused to let their friend sit out on the curb.

He, as much as any other, was a child of God who belonged at the feet of Jesus.

Do you know what I noticed in this pericope reading it this week…

It doesn’t say that they brought their friend in order to be healed.

There are many stories where people specifically brought people to Jesus to be healed, but that phrase is not used here.

The crowds gathered wanted to hear Jesus preach and to hear the good news.

Why would we assume anything different about this paralytic man?

In fact, Mark Arnold reminded me this week of how Jesus responds to this act of home vandalism. “Jesus sees the faith of the man and his friends first and includes him in his ministry of grace and forgiveness… only referring to the man’s disability when challenged about his authority.” (https://theadditionalneedsblogfather.com/2019/09/11/disability-sin-god-heaven/)

He goes on to write, “everyone, including disabled people, are made in God’s image.”

When we talk about inclusiveness in the church, we speak of our call to share the ministry of Jesus with all people and make sure that every person is able to participate fully in the life of not just the church, but the community, and the world. (¶140, p. 101)

It means “the freedom for the total involvement of all persons who meet the requirements… in the membership and leadership of the Church at any level and in every place.”

Our call to inclusiveness does not ask someone to adapt or change who they are in order to have a place at the table. It is a recognition of their faith and gifts and belovedness in God’s eyes… just as they are.

And it entails our commitment to “work towards societies in which each person’s value is recognized, maintained, and strengthened” through basic human rights and “equal access to housing, education, communication, employment, medical care, legal redress of grievances, and physical protection.”

It means speaking out against acts of hate or violence against people based on who they are.

And within the church, the call to inclusiveness means that sometimes we have to tear the roof off the house to make sure that everyone has access… or add a ramp or an elevator to the church.

It means utilizing assistive hearing devices and closed captioning on our facebook live stream.

One of the things that I think we have gained during Covid-tide is broadening how we make our worship accessible for our members who were homebound and we continue to mail the entire worship service to more than fifty homes every week. Where we can’t bring folks to church, we bring the church to them.

It means including youth and young people on our leadership teams and making commitments to protect children through our Safe Sanctuaries policies.

Here at Immanuel, it meant changing our maternity leave policy to a parental leave policy.

And it also means, as we say in our Constitution, that the church “shall confront and seek to eliminate racism, whether in organizations or in individuals, in every facet of its life and in society at large.”

I mentioned before the how we institutionalized racism through the Central Jurisdiction here in the United States. Just as those four friends literally changed the structure of that home, Confronting racism sometimes means changing our denominational structures and I give thanks that the Methodist Church eliminated the Central Jurisdiction with the insistence of the EUB church as part of the merger that formed the United Methodist Church in 1968.

But this also includes learning about and repenting of our history, as well as actively seeking to not just make room at our table for neighbors who are black, indigenous, or people of color… but building new tables – together.

As a predominately white congregation, this might entail intentionally building relationships with people and church neighbors that look differently than us.

And, it means that we bust open the glass ceiling and do the same for women and girls who have faced discrimination in the church. In fact… this new paragraph on gender equality was only added through a constitutional amendment approved in 2016 and then ratified by annual conferences in 2019.

Still, there are more walls to tear down.

Another constitutional amendment failed by just 5% to meet the 2/3 threshold for implementation by annual conference votes.

Currently, our constitution proclaims that “no conference or other organizational unity of the Church shall be structured so as to exclude any member… because of race, color, national origin, status or economic condition.”

That amendment would have expanded our protected classes in the constitution to add gender, ability, age, and marital status.

We continue to go on to perfection.

As I think about what it means to be United Methodist today, I think about those five friends from our scripture.

I think about how each one of them was beloved by God and a person of sacred worth… just as they were.

And I think about how they worked together to make sure that all were able to be in the presence of Jesus.

Our call to inclusiveness in the church is a call to relationship and faithfulness.

It is about invitation and welcome.

It is about breaking down walls and tearing apart ceilings and fighting so that our friends and neighbors can all gather at the feet of Christ.

But it is also about owning up to the reality that along the way we have not always lived into this ideal and acknowledging the people who either chose to leave or were forced out of the church simply because of who they were.

I am reminded that my access and privilege to even stand here in this pulpit is not something to be taken for granted.

I remember the people who fought to make this a reality and look for ways to use my voice to speak up on behalf of others who are excluded.

May we, as United Methodists, continue to work to ensure that the doors of the church are open to all people, may we embrace one another with love and acceptance, and may we provide the kind of support that is needed so that all of our siblings can fully participate in the life of this church.

The Church in Antioch

Posted on July 18, 2021Leave a comment

Text: Acts 11: 19-30

In our lesson for today, Luke notes that this new community in Antioch represents the very first time that people were called, “Christians.”

Before this, we’ve had a lot of different descriptions of these folks.

Jews. Disciples. Followers of the Way. Those who were part of “This Life.”

It was hard to describe this community.

And largely that is because this movement started among and as an extension of the Jewish faith.

Jesus himself was considered a Jewish rabbi, who recruited disciples to follow his teaching… like many other Jewish rabbis of the time.

And yet, there was more to Jesus than this.

He wasn’t simply pointing to God’s Kingdom.

He didn’t just have a particular teaching about what it meant to be Jewish.

He was ushering in a whole new kind of relationship between God and the world that brought the Kingdom of Heaven to earth.

While Jesus walked among those first disciples and the crowds, he described the kind of life we were now called to embody.

Think about the Sermon on the Mount…

In ‘The Message’ translation, as the sermon continues after the Beatitudes, Eugene Peterson writes:

“Let me tell you why you are here…”

The whole sermon is full of instructions for the people of God.

It reminds us of the attitudes we are supposed to carry with us into the world and how we can serve God and God’s Kingdom.

We are supposed to fulfill God’s laws – God’s plans and guide for how we love and live with one another.

And as we do, we become salt and light.

Our very lives, our witness, helps others to experience God.

Think a bit about what it means to be salt and light.

We aren’t called to be salty in a way that is angry and bitter and ill-tempered.

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

When you sprinkle salt on watermelon or tomatoes, the flavors are more bright and sweet.

When you add salt to soup, it becomes rich and deep.

Salt is used for curing and preserving and healing.

That is our job!

We bring out the “God-flavors of this earth” (MSG) by pointing to the good news and movement of God and lifting up stories of life and hope.

In the same way, the light of God within us helps others to see God.

Our faith is not meant to be secret or private… but to shine far and wide so that others might have a relationship with God through Jesus Christ as well.

So the testimony and witness of the Book of Acts tells us about how those first Jewish disciples lived in the way Jesus called them to live.

By the power of the Holy Spirit, the very presence of God within them, they were salt and light… not just for themselves, or for their neighbors, but for the entire world.

We see it in that first community in Jerusalem that gathered to break breads and pray and learn at the feet of the apostles.

We see it in how they cared for the vulnerable within the community.

We see it in how people were healed, and faith deepened, and understanding of the Kingdom of God expanded and grew.

Even when persecution and threats could have driven them underground, hiding away the light of God in their hearts, they shone.

And suddenly, this small group of Jewish disciples who believed that Jesus was the Messiah became an international movement of Jews and Gentiles.

Which brings us to Antioch.

If we remember, the experience of Pentecost was itself had a global impact because Jewish faithful from across the world had returned to the city for the festival.

But, after the death of Stephen, some of those disciples fled and returned home… some all the way to the northern end of the Mediterranean Sea.

They began to be salt and light back home, sharing the good news of Jesus Christ with their fellow Jews.

And because Antioch was a huge, cosmopolitan city – a crossroads of the world at this time – some of those folks from Phoenicia and Cyprus and even people as far away as the north African city of Cyrene found themselves together.

As the Holy Spirit led them, they pointed to what God was doing in the world and just like Peter had experienced in Caesarea, Gentiles began to join the movement as well.

That’s the thing about salt and light.

It can’t be hidden away.

It can’t be contained to just one thing.

If you salt your potatoes on the plate, some is bound to land on the chicken and broccoli, too.

If you set a light in one corner of a room, eventually the whole space will be illuminated.

Jesus was telling those first disciples that if they followed his way, the whole world would notice.

So why are we surprised when they do?

The leaders of the church in Jerusalem heard about these happenings and decided to send Barnabas up to check on things.

You know, I have to be honest, before this summer and taking the time to really look closely at the book of Acts, I really didn’t know who Barnabas was… but he is such an instrumental part of this early Jesus movement!

Barnabas is the guy in chapter 4 who sells his land and gives the proceeds to the poor.

Barnabas is also the guy who vouches for Saul when he comes back to Jerusalem after his transformation.

And he’s the guy who gets sent to this community in Antioch.

This is an incredibly strategic decision on the part of the apostles.

Scripture tells us that Barnabas was actually from Cyprus, this island in the northern Mediterranean Sea.

Although he was Jewish, a Levite in fact, he had a cross-cultural identity, growing up outside of Israel in a region that had been ruled by various empires and was a major player in regional trade.

So Barnabas would have largely understood the customs and traditions of this Roman trade city.

And when he arrives, what he finds is a mixed Jewish and Gentile community that is full of salt and light and the power of God.

Barnabas himself is a non-Hebrew Jew.

He has heard about Peter’s experience with the Roman soldier, Cornelius.

So when he arrives and sees the Holy Spirit moving among this diverse group of folks, he is filled with joy and starts to figure out how he can encourage them to grow even more fully into their relationship with God.

His gets himself situated and preaches a few sermons, but then realizes that this needs to be a team effort and he goes to Tarsus to search for Saul.

Yep, that Saul.

The one that Barnabas had vouched for in Jerusalem.

The one who had stirred up some conflict among the other Greek-speaking Jews and got sent back home.

Home for Saul was on the northern Mediterranean.

You see, he, too, had this kind of dual-identity.

Firmly Jewish, and yet also a Roman citizen, fluent in the Greek culture and world.

Together, these two became a dynamic team that helped to shape the church into more than just a Jewish sect.

The Spirit of God truly had moved beyond Jerusalem… beyond Samaria… and from Antioch would move to the ends of the earth.

As such, this group of folks needed a new name.

They were more than a Jewish community.

The Holy Spirit fell upon all who would believe in Jesus Christ so that they might be salt and light for the world.

As Paul would later write to the church in Galatia, “You are all God’s children through faith in Christ Jesus. All of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek; there is neither slave nor free; nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3:26-28)

And if we are all one in Christ, made God’s children through faith in Christ, what better name for this group than Christian.

These Christians in Antioch understood why they were there.

To know God and to know Jesus.

To be salt and light for the world.

And to reach out in love to their neighbors.

In fact, when they heard about a potential disaster, a famine, headed towards the people of Judea, they took up a collection and sent it to Jerusalem to help.

We are here today, because of that diverse and vibrant community in Antioch.

Because of the way they didn’t let labels get in the way of who was welcome.

Because they let their light shine beyond their city to bring healing and hope to the world.

From Jerusalem… to Samaria… to Antioch… to right here in Des Moines, we are called to do the same.

To let our light shine so that others might know God.

To bring out and support the work God is already doing healing and bringing hope to the people of this community.

To love our neighbors.

Whether that is providing milk and juice for the families at Hawthorne Hill…

Or signing up to tutor at schools this fall…

Or volunteering with Vacation Bible School…

Or the ways, big and small, you make a difference in the lives of others through your daily work…

Be light.

Be salt.

Be evidence of God’s grace to a world that is desperate for hope.