Jesus Christ – Page 8 – Salvaged Faith

Willing to Yield

Posted on September 23, 2012Leave a comment

I want to start out this morning with a testimony… and I think it is very important that you understand this is not me preaching about what you should go out tomorrow and do… I am simply sharing what my experience of God was this past year.

That is an important qualification, because I’m going to be talking about money. And talking about money makes a whole lot of us uncomfortable… but it is a part of our daily lives and it is an important part our words from James this morning.

And my testimony is this: For the first time in my life, this year I tithed to the church.

Now, I have always given to the church. But for a long time, I made excuses about how much I should give.

When I was a teenager and had only part time jobs, I might have stuck a dollar or two in the offering plate – whatever pocket change I might have had that day. It was the last of my money… not the best.

When I was in college, I did not attend a church regularly on Sundays, but worshipped on campus Wednesday nights – and no one asked for a financial contribution. No one asked me to give, much less give sacrificially.

As a seminary student and an intern at a church, I was spending more money on school and travel than I was making and piling up debt. I gave my time to the church and occasionally a few bucks as well.

And then I came here. I came to be a pastor and I knew that I could not ask you, in good faith, to give faithfully to the church and to God, if I was not also giving. Having a steady paycheck for the first time in my life, I should have immediately started tithing. But I didn’t. I held back. I looked at my student loans and a bit of debt from college… I looked at how much our cable bill was going to be… I thought about how we wanted to travel a bit… I knew that taxes would take a chunk of my wages… And so I started out small. I gave to the church – but only a small portion.

And then, I became comfortable with that level of financial giving. I knew I was doing God’s ministry in other ways and so I didn’t worry about it.

But one day a year or two ago, I was having a conversation with a friend, a fellow pastor, about the things that we cling to… the things we hold close and refuse to give to God.

I realized in the midst of that conversation that I had never willingly yielded my money to God. There had been times when I had given out of guilt. I have given because it was what I was supposed to do. I have given out of habit as the offering place went around and each person in the pew pulled out a buck and dropped it in. Sound familiar?

But never had I prayerfully thought about what God wanted me to give. Never had I searched my heart to ask what I was willing to yield, what I was willing to joyfully give up in my life for the sake of our Lord and our church.

I started out last year by giving a much larger percentage on a regular basis… and this year, my heart led me to give a full 10% of my income to the church.

I joyfully give that money to God… and I have to tell you – I haven’t missed one cent. I now give to the church first… the money comes out of my paycheck before it ever comes home with me. I give God my first and my best, instead of the change in my pocket – instead of the leftovers from my own spending and desires.

I have been blessed through my giving. No, I don’t have more money in the bank than when I started… but now I am reminded that the things that money buys – cable t.v. and new clothes and name-brand cereal don’t last. What lasts is the kingdom of God. What lasts is the word of God. What lasts is the joy that I have found through letting go… through being willing to yield.

Now… I’m going to put my preacher hat back on.

Because we all have different places in our life where we have been unwilling to yield. It might be money, like me, but it might be an addiction. For others the thing they grasp is their pride. Some of us are unwilling to let go of our schedules or our desires.

Throughout the book of James, we get some harsh truths about what it means to live in Christian community. On Labor Day weekend, we heard about the source of our conflict – pride and a lack of humility. The next week we were reminded that rich and poor are all the same and we need to stop judging and stop loving. Last week, we were dished up some truth about wisdom and speech… and our tendency to ignorance and cynicism.

In each message – we have been asked to let something go. Our pride and the need to “be important”, our status and the desire to “be better”, our knowledge and the need to “be right”, and today we are asked to let go of the material things we cling to and the stuff we seek out. We need to let go of our desire to “be the joneses.”

As we read James… even though I have experienced the joy of willingly yielding and letting God have control of my money – I have to admit that each one of these admonitions still hits close to home for me also. Each of these realities is something that I continue to struggle with, even as I know I am being faithful in some ways.

1) Keeping up with the Joneses kills our souls

James is quite clear in chapter four that our desire to keep up with the ways of the world means that our heart has gone astray from God. Familiar verse from the gospels reminds us– you cannot serve both God and money. And so every time that we choose the things we want over the things of God, we have cheated on our Lord and Savior – we have been unfaithful.

It is hard to accept sometimes, but God cares about what you do and what you have. If our gracious Lord and Savior makes sure that the birds of the air and the flowers of the field are taken care of… then he’s also working to make sure that you have enough – that you have abundant life. But so often, we turn our backs on the life God has given us and want to be someone else and have other things. Verse 5 reads: Doesn’t God long for our faithfulness in the life he has given us?

This life might not be perfect. We might not have everything. But Mother Theresa once said, “grow where you are planted.” Don’t look over the fence at your neighbors and want what they have… gratefully give thanks every day for the gift of life and the wonderful things that are a part of yours. When we humble ourselves before the Lord and give thanks for who we were created to be, God is right there, ready to lift us up.

2) Keeping up with the Joneses is killing other people

James chapter 4 starts with the hard truth that war and conflict comes from our desire to have what we don’t have and our desire to keep what is already ours. As he says in verse two: “You long for something you don’t have, so you commit murder. You are jealous for something you can’t get, so you struggle and fight.”

That reality is lived out on our newspapers and television programs every single day. Bank robberies and drug related shootings. Civil wars in far off countries about the precious resources of those places. Jealous acts of violence enacted towards someone for cheating or stealing a person you loved from your life.

But there is a quiet hidden reality to these verses that we are not always ready to admit to – a truth that needs to be confessed about ourselves. The things that we have in this world – everyday, ordinary things that we buy and use and dispose of… our desire to have those things is killing people, too.

Take my cell phone, for example. This summer, I dropped my phone and cracked the screen. So I upgraded to something new. My husband upgraded at the same time, even though his old phone was just fine. But within these simple devices are resources and minerals that you can’t find everywhere. In fact, the tin inside of these devices that are used to solder the metal parts together is mined mostly in Indonesia and China. I read recently about one province in Indonesia, two little islands where nearly half of the tin for cell phones comes from.

The tin mining industry has devastated these two little islands. The mining is done in shallow pits and these pits cover the island – thousands and thousands of pits dotting the ground. Most of this mining is done by hand, rather than machine and it is not a regulated industry. Small groups of men, often boys, work in these pits and scrape the walls by hand.

The reporter who visited the sites had this to say: “these dangerous pits – the walls literally just collapse and bury people alive. In one week, while I was on BangkaIsland, there were six men and actually a boy, a 15-year-old, who were buried alive in these pit collapses…”

My heart broke when I heard that story… how our demand for smart-phones and tablets has caused an industry to explode without regulation or safety and that people are dying so that I can have 3G. Our relationship with God and our command to love our neighbor means that we need to think carefully about the purchases we make in this world. We need to pray before we buy something. And we need to be informed about the far reaching impact of the things we want.

3) Keeping up with the Joneses doesn’t get us anything but fat and dead

We are often so focused on the things that we want today, that we do not stop to think about the far reaching implications of the stuff we accumulate.

As Brandon and I start to pack up our house, we have tons of things that we do not need and will never use. We are busting at the seams with cheap trinkets and clothes that no longer fit and craft supplies we don’t have time to use. It has been a reminder that we have abundantly blessed… and so we are taking this opportunity to share and donate and repurpose some of what we have been given.

The reality is that the stuff we have will not last forever. And we won’t be alive to enjoy it forever.

As James continues in chapter five, the wealthy get one final harsh warning. In this translation from The Message, I want to invite you to hear these words… remembering that we are each wealthier than 75% of this world:

Your money is corrupt and your fine clothes stink. Your greedy luxuries are a cancer in your gut, destroying your life from within. You thought you were piling up wealth. What you’ve piled up is judgment.

^4-6All the workers you’ve exploited and cheated cry out for judgment. The groans of the workers you used and abused are a roar in the ears of the Master Avenger. You’ve looted the earth and lived it up. But all you’ll have to show for it is a fatter than usual corpse

All you’ll to show for it is a fatter than usual corpse.

The old adage says, you can’t take it with you… and its true. Our time here on earth is short and piling on pleasures and wants and desires doesn’t get us anything but a house full of stuff that someone else is going to have to sort through.

James’s advice for us: remember that you are nothing but a mist that vanishes with the sunlight. Remember that you are nothing but grass that withers and a flower that fades. What good is all of the wealth in the world when tomorrow you are gone?

Let’s take a deep breath. Because we can hear these harsh words and they cut straight to our core. We might want to give everything away when we go home because we feel so guilty.

But I need you to hear this.

God does not want your money, if he doesn’t have your heart.

God doesn’t have any use for your stuff, if he can’t have your soul.

God doesn’t care about the things that you own… even if they could be used to help other people… unless you are willing to give him your life.

Let us prayerfully ask about what God wants us to yield. Let us joyfully and freely give – not because we have to, but because we want to. And let us join with Christ in the world along paths “the Joneses” don’t often travel

Making Room

Posted on July 14, 2012Leave a comment

Funeral Meditation based on Luke 2:1-7

As Christmas approaches, we are reminded that a very pregnant young woman and her patient fiancé were once left out in the cold. They made their way to the town ofBethlehemhoping and praying that someone would have a place for them to stay… but there was no room.

As Luke tells us:

Joseph went to be enrolled together with Mary, who was promised to him in marriage and who was pregnant. While they were there, the time came for Mary to have her baby. She gave birth to her firstborn son, wrapped him snugly, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the guestroom.

There was no place for them in the guestroom.

Notice… it doesn’t say that they were full. It doesn’t say that there wasn’t room. It says that there was no place for them.

Your mother and grandmother was someone who always had a place in her heart for others. She took great care to make sure that everything was just right for people and that they knew how loved they were.

Wilma was born in 1925 here in Marengo to John and Carrie Ehrman, she graduated from the Marengo High School. She worked in the office of Byron Goldthwaite and also as a Deputy Clergy for the county… but you know best that her true love and her true vocation was to be a homemaker. She greatly enjoyed cooking for her family and you enjoyed eating her fried chicken and other wonderful meals. She made many of her own clothes with her skills as a seamstress… and some for you too, although Jean, you would have preferred to wear the store bought clothes =) She kept an exceptionally clean house and cared about the details. And she did it all for you.

She made a place for each of you in her lives and made sure that you were taken care of and that you were loved. She made a place for you.

Luke reminds us as we approach Christmas that the Lord of Lords crept into this world on a quiet evening and that there was no place for him. There was no place for his unmarried mother. There was no place for the man who would be his earthly father. There was no place.

I hear in that statement that there was no welcome for them.

Who wants to take in a pregnant girl in the middle of the night?

Who wants to deal with these strangers who didn’t have enough sense to plan ahead?

Who wants to give up their spot?

In some Mexican and Latin American communities, the tradition of Las Posadas reminds folks of the absence of hospitality Mary and Joseph recieved. In the days before Christmas, processions go from house to house and request lodging. The host for each evening turns the people away… until the final night, Christmas Eve, when Mary and Joseph are finally allowed to enter and the people gather around the nativity to pray.

So many times in our actions, we too, can tell other people: There is no place for you here.

But I imagine your mother and your grandmother would have loved being the host for the last night of LasPosadas… That she would have opened up her home and said – yes, there is a place for you. I will make room.

The God that your mother and grandmother believed in, crept into this world to make sure that we all had a place. He came as a child to make us children of God. He came and was rejected so that we might never be rejected again. He died so that we might live.

Before he died, Christ reminded his disciples and reminded us:

Don’t be troubled. Trust in God. Trust also in me. My Father’s house has room to spare. If that weren’t the case, would I have told you that I’m going to prepare a place for you? When I go to prepare a place for you, I will return and take you to be with me so that where I am you will be too.

There is a place for you. That is what Christ tells us. That is what Christ shows us. That is what Christ gives us.

Wilma knew that her job was to make a place for you in this world. May you let her life and her memory live on by carrying in your hearts the desire to serve others… to love others… more than yourself.

Amen. And Amen.

Spirit of Surrender

Posted on July 1, 2012Leave a comment

In today’s scripture from the book of Acts, we are told of the precarious balance upon which the body of Christ rests. Twice now, we have heard passages that tell us the believers sold everything they had and made sure there were no needs in their community. Twice now, we have been told of their love and faithfulness and how everyone who joined this community of Christ was full of prayer and devotion. We look through rose-colored glasses at the life of the early Christian community and wonder why we can’t have that kind of church, too.

But things were not as rosy as they seemed.

Living in community is dangerous business. A community that cares for the needs of others is a community where people can share their needs without being embarrassed with them. A community that heals the sick is a community where people are not afraid to speak the truth about their own disease. A community that prophetically stands with the underdog is a community where people sacrificially put their own lives on the line for the lives of others.

When we hesitate, when we pull back, we do so because there are great risks involved in being vulnerable, open and honest in community. We might have to take off our fake plastered on smiles and tell the truth about the problems in our lives. We are afraid of our own tears, afraid of our own weakness, afraid that the community around us will turn their backs if they really knew what was going on.

Earlier this spring, we were just starting worship, when my grandmother walked in the door and sat down right over there. The grandmother I no longer visit. The grandmother who my parents are engaged in a legal struggle with. And I couldn’t look her in the eye during worship. I knew if I looked over at her, I would start to cry. I knew I would lose it. I avoided that third of the room the entire service, until it came to the time when in this particular service, because of my planning and God’s sense of humor, people came forward for a time of prayer. There she was, standing right in front of me. The tears started to roll, and for a minute I was a blubbering mess, but thankfully was able to pull myself together so that we could keep going and finish our service.

I share that because I know how hard it is to bring our full selves into community. I know what it means to hold back and not tell the full story. I know how scary it is to be vulnerable in front of other Christians. I know what it means to have the heart of Ananias and Sapphira.

In Acts chapter 5, we find the story of this couple who just couldn’t surrender it all to God. They were inspired by the acts of sacrificial love and community we have been talking about for weeks… a community that shared everything in common without worrying about what belonged to whom – AND inspired by a man named Barnabas who sold a plot of land and laid the proceeds at the feet of the disciples.

Our verses this morning are a continuation of that story, because immediately following his sacrificial act, Ananias and Sapphira decide to do the same… sort of. They, too, sell a plot of land and bring the proceeds from the sale to the disciples… except they lie about how much they sold it for and keep some of it back for themselves.

In the midst of a community where all are of one heart and mind… in the midst of a community where everyone cares for everyone else and no one has need… in the midst of a community – united by the Holy Spirit – where no one says “that’s mine, you can’t have it,” Ananias and Sapphira hold back. They embezzle money from the sale and hide it for themselves. They in essence, reject the community, reject the Holy Spirit, and seek to provide for their own welfare.

Ananias and Sapphira were telling the church – it’s nice what ya’ll are doing, and we want to help, but we’re not going to become beholden to you. We’re going to stand over here on the sidelines and get praise for our giving but we sure as hell are not going to let you take care of us. We can take care of ourselves just fine, thank you very much.

The body of Christ requires every person… every member… to fully participate. None of us is more important than another. Each of us has something someone else needs and each of us has something that we need to receive from this body. An eye can’t see without a brain to process the information. A hand can’t reach out to help without an arm to support and extend. A stomach is pretty worthless without a mouth to bring it food.

For our physical bodies to work, we need to have interdependent systems. Each one giving and receiving. Each one playing its part in the whole.

And for this body of Christ to work, we, too, require interdependence. We can’t hold back. We need to not only do our part and give, but also allow others to do theirs. If we are sick, we need to say something so that those with the gift of healing can pray for us. If we are in need, we need to bring that to the body so that those with the gift of generosity can support us. The Holy Spirit has formed this unique body of Christ so that among us we might not only be of one heart and mind, but through us no one has to be alone or in need.

And that “no one” includes us.

I used to think that the greatest sin of Ananias and Sapphira was the fact that they lied to God and the community about how much money they had sold their land for.

But the more I put this story into the context of this community of believers who relied upon a spirit of trust and vulnerability and risk in order to be united, I realized that their sin wasn’t so much that they lied, or stole the money, but that they held back.

We are asked to love God with all of our heart, soul, mind and strength. We are to become “living sacrifices.” Jesus Christ died for us and he wants our whole selves in return.

And here come two people who want to be a part of the community and want to walk with Jesus, but who don’t want to dive all the way in. They pretend that they do – they want the prestige, they want to be a part of this awesome new movement, but they just are not ready to commit ALL THE WAY.

And you know what is really sad – they don’t have to. They could simply have said that. They could have been up front with Peter and said “Hey, we want to support the church and see what you guys are doing and maybe someday we’ll be at the point where we can do what Barnabas has done and really place ourselves in community.”

Peter even reminds Ananias that the land was his to do with as he pleased and he didn’t have to sell it and he didn’t have to give it to the church… but when they did so, and when they lied and pretended to really surrender themselves, when they hid who they were, they were actually putting the whole community in danger. They were acting directly against the Holy Spirit and the unity it brought to the church.

Living just a few miles away from the Amana Colonies, we are aware that communal living is tough. To really trust and rely upon one another, to throw in your lot with others, is not easy. Those kinds of communities do not last for a long time precisely because the temptation to hold back, the temptation to disrupt the tenuous balance of community is so strong.

In their act of holding back, of refusing to fully give in, in their lack of surrender… Ananias and Sapphira let a Spirit of Discord into the body of Christ. They denied the unity and power of the Holy Spirit. They said with their actions, “it’s okay God, I’ll take care of myself.”

And God’s response… well – this is the difficult part of the story. First, Ananias and the Sapphira fall dead.

I find this so troubling because I sometimes hold back, too.

We don’t always let God have our hearts and minds and soul. We are timid with our faith. We surrender some… but not all.

This passage makes me uncomfortable, because I realize that I’m really no different than Ananias and Sapphira… what on earth prevents God for striking me dead, right here and right now for holding back, myself?

Rev. Mark Vergruggen asks the question: ” So why aren’t we punished with a death sentence? The short answer is the grace of God. Psalm 103:10 says that the Lord “does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities.” That’s grace. Grace is not something we can demand from the Lord. It’s not something we can earn.

What we learn in the story of Ananias and Sapphira is that we still worship a holy, awesome, and fearful Lord. In a world full of grace, we do not simply have a free pass to act however we want. God is still righteous and just and has every right to punish sinners by death or other means.

We are tempted to simply believe that grace covers all and to run through this life as if our actions do not matter. We are tempted to rest in the love of God and not consider what the consequences of our sin might be. And yet those consequences are real. Other people are really hurt in the process… communities and families can be destroyed… and when we deliberately sin, we are saying to God – I don’t want you or need you… I can do this myself.

Sin is turning our backs to God. Christ demands all and we give some. We hold back and don’t fully let the Holy Spirit build up this Body of Christ. We refuse to surrender and therefore we deny the power of the Holy Spirit to transform our hearts, this church, and the world around us.

We might not be struck dead here in this place at this moment, but what do we stop from growing and living and thriving by our blatant denial of the Holy Spirit?

This path of Christian faith is not easy. While the book of Acts has begun with all sorts of joyous accounts of healing and transformation and triumph over the powers of evil, these passages remind us that discipleship is hard. It is a warning to those who are considering this faith: think twice. Think about the price you are being called to pay. Think about what is being demanded of you. But also think about the joy and the possibility and the abundant life that awaits if you are willing to let go of what you think you need to embrace what God knows you need.

Christ wants to build a church in our midst… a community of people who depend on one another but most importantly who depend on God. Are you willing to let go? Are you willing to dive in? Are you willing to let the Holy Spirit transform us into the body of Christ? Or are you going to hold back?

Intersection Intercessions

Posted on May 27, 2012Leave a comment

While a student in seminary, I had the opportunity and privilege to take Clinical Pastoral Education through the Vanderbilt University Medical Center. I was thrown into the lions den, as it were, and was invited to put my very limited skills to use caring for patients and their families in some of the most trying times of their lives. To say I was unprepared is an understatement. I had no idea what would be expected of me. As borderline introvert, I was terrified of knocking on strangers doors. I had no clue what to say to someone who was going through the horrors of chemotherapy or losing a loved one.

I remember one of my very first patients. I had been assigned to the Immuno-suppression wing of the hospital. All of the patients there were battling diseases like leukemia that left their immune systems compromised either because of the illness or the treatment. Gowns and masks were required in over half of the rooms. I didn’t know how I would relate to someone with all of those barriers in the way. I was unsure of myself and of what this person would be like and I wanted to run and hide. But as I rode the elevator up to the 9th floor… I took deep breaths and prayed. O Lord… I have no idea what I’m doing… please help.

When I walked into Amanda’s room, she cracked a joke about how all of us should have called ahead and planned better because in our gowns and masks we were all dressed alike. My muscles relaxed, my spirits lightened, and I laughed right along with her.

Over the next few days and weeks we talked about the absurdity of a thing like leukemia. We talked about how she was feeling as they prepared for a bone marrow transplant. We talked about gratitude for her friends and family who were pulling behind her in her hometown. She showed me pictures of the coffee cans at the gas station where folks were contributing money to help pay for treatments. And she asked me to pray with her and for her. We prayed for faith in the tough times. We prayed that she might find ways to reconnect with the God she had long forgotten about. We poured ourselves over devotional books and I answered her never ceasing stream of questions about the faith… sometimes by simply giving her more questions to think about.

Amanda was my first patient during CPE and she was also one of my last. Her course of treatment kept her there in the hospital almost the entire summer of my clinical and so we regularly kept in touch. I missed the few weeks when she wasn’t there because she was finally able to go home and be with family and friends again. On one of my last days, she was there once again, for her final treatment. Things were looking good. We praised God with laughter and singing and ate cake together.

I did not have the resources to minister to Amanda. I had never done this kind of work before. I didn’t know what to say or what to do or where to sit or how to act. But God did. God knew what both Amanda and I needed in that moment, and through the amazing work of the Holy Spirit, both of our lives were ministered to that summer.

There are so many times in our lives when we come to a crossroads. When our lives intersect with the lives of other people and we have the unique and awesome opportunity to share the love of God with them. In those moments, it is not always what we have done or said, but it is how the Holy Spirit has moved in the midst of that intersection that has given the moment and the relationship power.

Sometimes it is a homeless man on a street corner who asks for some money.

Sometimes it is a new neighbor who moved in because she and her husband just divorced.

Sometimes it is a person at a gas station whose car has run out of gas.

Sometimes it is sitting down at the dinner table with extended family and reconnecting with an aunt or a cousin on a new level.

In these intersections… where our lives cross the paths of the lives of other people, it is extraordinarily common for us to feel out of our element. We might be anxious We might feel ill-equipped to truly meet their needs. We might fear rejection or for our own safety. We might simply be comfortable with remaining strangers and don’t want our lives to really change.

But through the grace and power of the Holy Spirit, sometimes we find the strength to act… like I did with Amanda in that hospital room.

More often than not, however, we come to these intersections and we brush up against the life of someone else and we move on. We fail to act. We fail to speak. We fail to truly touch that person.

What we fail to do, is to draw upon the power of the Holy Spirit that can transform all of our lives.

If we doubt that power of the Holy Spirit, then maybe we need to be reminded of what happened on this festival day we call Pentecost.

Let’s set the scene and take ourselves back 2000 years…

10 days ago, Jesus rose up… was carried off into heaven. And the disciples returned to Jerusalem and spent the next few days praying and worshipping God in the temple and fellowshipping with the other believers. For the next ten days, they remained a small group of faithful men and women – content to love God and love one another. There are just over 100 of them… the size of a nice little church today. We don’t hear any stories of miracles. Nobody is saved during this time. They don’t go out into the streets proclaiming the word of God. No… they remain with their own little community, they take care of some business and elect a new apostle to replace Judas, and that is pretty much it.

Did their lives intersect with other people in those 10 days? Probably. They probably were out in the marketplace to buy food. They rubbed shoulders with folks in the temple. They would have met all sorts of folks coming into town for the Jewish celebration of Shavout… or the Festival of Weeks. But nowhere does the book of Acts tell us that they did anything about it.

They let those countless intersections and moments of crossed paths pass them by. They kept their heads low. They stayed with their friends. They took no chances.

They sound like a rather boring, small-town church, that gathers together for worship and food and fellowship and has some really deep connections with one another, but who aren’t doing anything out in their community. They sound like a lot of the churches we have in the United Methodist tradition. Churches that just plod along, doing what they have to in order to get by.

This was the church for 10 days. A lifeless, boring, safe little group.

In fact, on the day we call Pentecost – 50 days after the resurrection of Christ, 50 days after the Passover, they weren’t out in the community celebrating with others. The people who had come from all corners of the world would have been celebrating the gift of the Torah and reading together from the Book of Ruth and sharing in festive meals… but no, that group of 120 were all gathered together in a house, doing their own thing.

God had something else in mind that morning…

They might have been safely tucked away in a house, but the Holy Spirit rushed into that place and stirred them up. A holy fire was lit in their hearts and they began to shout and speak and sing and the voices of those 120 people carried beyond the walls of the house out to the streets where people had been passing by.

Can you imagine that? Can you imagine our joyful noise here in the walls of the church being so loud and exciting and exuberant and that people who are walking by stop and stare and maybe even come in? There might not be that many folks outside our doors this morning, but on Pentecost in Jerusalem, the streets were full.

And out there in the streets, people stopped and stared. They stared at this house where the commotion was so great. They came closer and peeked in the windows. A crowd started to gather out there in the middle of the road as people were intrigued by what they were hearing. As they looked around, they saw folks who looked nothing like them, but each began to realize they could hear in their own native language.

I sometimes wonder how long it took for Peter and James and Mary and Salome and others inside that house to realize that they were attracting attention. How long did it take for them to open their eyes and see all of the faces staring back at them through the windows? How long did it take for them to work up the courage to open the door and walk out into the street and to speak?

They were ill-equipped and scared. They were anxious and hesitant. They weren’t quite sure they were ready for their lives to be changed.

But there at the intersection of their lives and the lives of those gathered, the Holy Spirit was present. For the first time in 10 days, probably even longer… since much of the time after Jesus rose from the dead they were huddled together afraid also… they found the power and the courage and the words to speak the good news of God.

Within hours… that intersection of lives turned a small group of 120 believers into a church of 3000 persons.

In the book of Romans this morning, we were reminded that there are times in our lives when we cannot see God’s future. We don’t know who is waiting just around the corner. We don’t know what we might be asked to do next. Just like this whole creation, our lives are pregnant with hope and anticipation and yes, sometimes fear and trembling and trepidation…

As I rode up the elevator on that day six years ago to the ninth floor of the hospital, I was full of that kind of expectation. I didn’t know what to do or what to say or how to act… but God was already there, in that moment, ready and waiting for me.

Romans 8:26-28 tell us: the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.

The Holy Spirit intercedes at those intersections in our lives. The Holy Spirit can and does give us the power we need to reach out with the right words at the right time.

She reached out as I stepped off that elevator and created laughter and conversation out of my wordless heart. She has moved us to stop and talk with the homeless guy on the street corner and to buy him a sandwich. She has interceded with you as you carried a plate of cookies to the new neighbor and listened to her heartache. The Holy Spirit has been present at the intersection when you give the guy with his gas can a ride back to the car. And she has been by our sides as we have hard conversations with family members about the skeletons in our closets and the reconciliation we need.

The Holy Spirit was there as Peter stepped out of the comfort zone of familiar community and safety and spoke to the crowds gathered outside the house. The Holy Spirit gave him words and power and purpose… none of which had been there before. At that intersection of a new and an old faith, a church was born. Lives were transformed.

We are going to leave this place today and each go our separate ways. Whether it is off to the campground or lunch with friends or back home… pay attention to the intersections in your lives. Pay attention to the paths you cross. Pay attention to the other people you encounter. And although you might not know what to say or how to say it… and even if you don’t WANT to… take a deep breath and pray…. “O Lord… I have no idea what I’m doing… please help.”

May the Holy Spirit intercede in every intersection of your life… Amen.

Going Up?

Posted on May 20, 2012Leave a comment

Are you going up?

Are you… climbing the ladder… increasing in stature… measuring success in leaps and bounds?

Are you going up?

I’m not asking if you are climbing the corporate ladder… or increasing your standing in the community… or raking in the dollars and cents.

Are you going up?

Are you climbing Jacob’s ladder? Are you increasing in holiness? Are you more successful today than you were yesterday at obeying God’s will?

Are you going up?

In the United Methodist Church, we have been talking a lot lately about growth and fruitfulness and effectiveness. And we are focused on those things because… well, lately we seem to be in a downward slide. Fewer members. Less money in offerings. A decrease in the number of baptisms and confirmations. Fewer people entering the ministry.

Down… down… down.

In fact, at General Conference, I heard words like “death tsunami” and “urgency” and “crisis.”

Evidently, downward movement and momentum isn’t a good thing.

We are supposed to be going up…

As a local congregation, the powers that be tell us that we should have more people in worship today than we did five years ago. We should have more baptisms and confirmations than funerals. We should be increasing our stewardship of resources and financial giving. Our numbers should be climbing. In fact, our very own Bishop Julius Trimble set a goal for our conference to have 10,790 new disciples in four years. That is 13 new disciples per congregation… that is only 3-4 new disciples every year for four years… We should have more new people in more new places. If we look at our numbers, they should be going up, up, up.

Are we going up?

I find this to be a very interesting question to think about today, because it is Ascension Sunday. Today is the day we celebrate that although Jesus died… he rose from the dead! And not only did he rise up from the grave and walk among us… but about forty days later, Jesus rose up into heaven. He ascended to the father.

And as our scripture from Acts tells us, the disciples who witnessed this amazing miracle were so dumbfounded that they stood staring, mouths wide open in astonisment, faces to the sky. They stood like that, staring at the heavens… looking up… for such a long time that angels had to come and remind them: Hey! you’ve got a job to do.

We can get awfully obsessed about what is happening up there. (pointing to the sky).

We want to follow Jesus up there and go to heaven.

We want to know that the big guy up there thinks about everything we say and do… or… maybe (eek) maybe we don’t. Maybe we want to hide everything we say and do from up there.

In fact, I bet if you really thought about it, you could plot out the points on your life when you were attaining the heights and growing in wisdom and stature and getting closer to up there. We could probably plot out the times when we were going up…

There are some half sheets of paper in the pews there and I want to invite you to take one of them and grab a pen or pencil.

I want us to start by drawing a simple graph. Put an x-axis on the left hand side… this will stand for the highs and the lows of your life. Now draw a y-axis through there… this will stand for the years you have been here on this earth.

Alright… now I want to give you a minute… just a minute… to roughly sketch out and plot some of the most successful and least successful times of your life… the highs and the lows. Think about this first graph in worldly terms – jobs and education and family and success… but also those times that were difficult like deaths and struggles with work or school. Just hit the most important and significant things for you right now. And when you are finished, connect the dots…

Okay… now I want us to make a second chart… right there on the same graph is fine. If you want, switch writing utensils with a neighbor so you can plot out your graph in pen or pencil or something different. This time, plot out your spiritual highs and lows. When were you closest to God (ie: highest on the chart) and when were you farthest from God? When did you grow in grace? When did you backslide? And for some of us, that includes times when we didn’t even know about God – a long time where we were flatlined at zero… I’ll give you a couple of minutes for that…

Now, I want you to look at your graph and answer the question… are you going up?

Could someone else in this world look at that graph and tell if you were going up?

Have the things that you have said and done, the life that you have lived… is it worthy of what is up there?

Have you felt a struggle in YOUR life… always trying to get closer to up there, always trying to reach the point where you have “made it?” Do you worry about how many highs and lows you have in your spiritual relationship with God.

To repeat the question we have been using all morning – are you going up?

I believe that this is a trick question. Or rather, I believe it is the wrong question.

Because you see in the end, we are NOT judged by the upward curve of our slope. We are NOT judged by the number of good deeds we have done. and we are NOT judged by the number of bible verses we have memorized… We are not judged by how long we have been close to God.

The irony is… in order to go “up to heaven” we have to be willing to be low and humble… we are judged by whether or not we have accepted how utterly unacceptable we are… and by God’s grace that dwells within us…

Somewhere this week, I read that holiness is not actually a characteristic that describes us. We are not holy. We can not grow in our own holiness. The only thing that makes us holy is God.

As we sang right before this message… Only Jesus is worthy… only Jesus is good… and only Jesus has the power to save us, redeem us, transform us and welcome us home.

Sometimes we get so focused on trying to do the right things in order to get up there, on living the right kind of life, that we forget it’s not about us at all… it’s about Jesus and what he has done.

And the Ascension story reminds us that Jesus goes up…. not us.

In their preaching helps this week, the General Board of Discipleship reminded us that heaven is not really “up.” As we know from our modern scientific inquiry – and I quote from the GBOD: “If Jesus went “up there,” he would have frozen to death, suffocated, been dangerously irradiated, or ripped to shreds by black holes (if he got that far!).”

The universe beyond the clouds is not a friendly place.

But what we forget with the language of going up… of ascension… is that this is really the “language of enthronement.” In the ascension of Jesus, he rises not simply from the grave, but up to his full authority. He no longer walks and talks among us but he is now “seated at the right hand of the Father.” He is no longer simply the prophetic carpenter from Galilee, but he has risen to his fullest stature as the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

And that kind of a Jesus… that kind of a holy, awesome, powerful being… that majestic and awesome Lord up there… well, he can share holiness. He can bestow grace. He can transform lives. He can save.

The only reason we can go up…. is because he is already there.

And because Jesus has been raised from the dead… because Jesus has ascended to the Father… because he has demonstrated not just his power, but also his deep and abiding love for us…

I sometime worry that we focus so much on whether or not we are going up… whether we are climbing the ladder… whether we are increasing in stature… that we stand staring at the heavens with our mouths gaping open.

well, we don’t have to worry about whether or not we are going up anymore. We don’t have to graph out our successes and failures on a chart. We don’t have to plot the trajectory of holiness.

As the angels come and tell us – Hey – what are you still looking up for… you have a job to do!

And the Lord of Lords and King of Kings does have a job for us.

It isn’t something we have to do to earn his love or to become more holy… but it is something we do out of deep gratitude for what we have already been given.

The job is simple… Jesus tells us: Go, be my witnesses. Tell the world about what I have done. Love them because I love them.

Rev. Mindi from rev-0-lution.org tells about a sign she saw once in England. It read: “We believe in life before death.”

We can get so caught up in life after death, in what happens up there and whether or not we are going up there, that we forget about this life.

Jesus invites us to live before we die. He invites us to go and share and tell and bless and love. He invites us to not only live, but to share new life with the broken and hurting of this world. As Rev. Mindi wrote: “This is why we work for justice and peace in this world. This is why we stand against hate and stand for love.”

We do not work for the Kingdom of God in order to get up there, but because that Kingdom has already come down here and already dwells in our hearts. Because the King of Kings already lives in our hearts.

Because he has gone up, we can get down and dirty and engage people in the real mess of their lives.

Because he has gone up, we can stop worrying about whether or not we are saved and we can simply tell people about Jesus and invite them to get to know him and us better.

Because he has gone up, we can stop counting dollars and cents and we can start measuring how deep our conversations are, how real our expressions of love are, and how many people we have shared the story with.

Because he has gone up, because he is Lord of Lords, because “up there” there is really not “UP” at all… but is a completely new way of living and thinking and being… well, because of Jesus – we can truly live before we die.

a day in the life of a reserve delegate #gc2012

Posted on April 26, 20121 Comment

The morning starts at 6:45 with showers and hotel room coffee and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich made from groceries I picked up yesterday.

As a reserve, I get to observe most of the time, and so when I arrived at the conference at 8am, I made my way to the Superintendency committee. I’m not sure why I picked it, but there I was. Devotions were led by the committee chair and then we got down to business… mostly. The group started with two easier ones – and chose to not support an item to allow for laity to become bishops and an item that would require district superintendents to serve outside of their annual conferences. And then the fun began. 5 proposals all dealing with term limits for bishops had to be dealt with. Which would they chose? How would it affect central conferences? Are term limits a sign of distrust or a tool for effectiveness? Is being a bishop different than being an elder? The process was long, and at one point, the group decided to return to language allowing central conferences to chose their own term limits for bishops (current practice). Which then left the question of what to do with US bishops. As the debate went on, and an amendment was made by a delegate from a central conference, a woman from Germany stood to speak. She gently spoke to the fact that the committee had allowed for contextual local control for the central conferences to make their own decisions and asked that other central conference delegates would refrain from editing the proposal that was before the body so that the US delegates could make decisions about their own context. It was a gracious act of kenosis.

Lunch gave me the opportunity to sit down with other young adults and have a Q&A with Adam Hamilton about the Call to Action and Interim Operations Team proposals. Adam was extraordinarily gracious and did his best to listen and answer what he could. There were still many questions and not enough time and not enough dialogue back and forth (the format and sheer number of YP who turned up – 50+) didn’t allow for it. BUT – you could sense there was a change of feelings… it didn’t hurt that the backdrop for the conversation were the words “HEAL” – our theme scripture for the evening.

After lunch, I tried to catch up on some social media conversations. I sat outside in the sun, recharged my phone (which I used excessively b/c of the poor internet), talked with some other reserves and rested. Then I spent the rest of the afternoon session observing the Faith & Order sub-committee which was discussing qualifications for ordination. One of the most interesting parts of their work was watching the difficult work of the translator and the difficulty of not only multiple languages, but the added language of Robert’s Rules to complicate matters. It was an exercise in patience for all involved and they truly lived out the process graciously and beautifully… in spite of fumbles and human missteps. That happens… keeping the spirit is the hard part and they succeeded.

The hardest part about the process is that you can’t talk. You can’t add information. You can’t help to clear up problems. You can just be there. I tried to be available by offering to move chairs, by shushing folks next door who were being too loud, offering markers, etc. As a reserve you really are support. You can love and care and pray, but you can’t really participate in the same way. For anyone who knows me, that is a difficult thing for me to do. I like to be actively engaged and twitter has been one way for me to communicate and share even though I cannot use my physical voice.

Tonight’s plenary greeted our Pan-Methodist brothers and sisters from across the globe and featured nominations for important general church positions. It also featured a point of personal priveledge that lifted up the failure of the process of holy conferencing (not enough time, guidelines, compassion, importance) the day before – specifically in regards to LGBT issues. It was evident there was pain and hurt felt by many…

but the beautiful thing about a church conference is that God is in our midst. Our theme for the day was healing and plenary led into worship where we sang Balm in Gilead and talked about the healing power of Jesus’ love in our lives and we were challenged to lift up to God the places where we have hurt or been unkind or have sinned… the places we need spiritual healing as well as physical healing. It was powerful. Tears freely poured. I prayed with one of the marshals for her sister who is ill. We sang, we prayed, and God moved in that place.

10:00 – time to head back to the hotel… with stops for conversation, and witness, and sharing. It’s nearly 1am now… the blogging is done, the mind is clear, and I can sleep.

Save Us, Doctor!

Posted on April 2, 2012Leave a comment

I saw on facebook that a fellow pastor was going to be preaching on Palm Sunday and had a Doctor Who reference to throw in to the mix. I never found out what his illustration was, but it got me thinking about a recent episode I rewatched.

In the series two premiere, the new Doctor – David Tennant – is still recovering from his regeneration. Chaos is reigning outside with a large Sycorax war ship hovering over London. Prime Minister Harriet Jones issues an urgent plea – “Doctor, if you are out there, save us!”

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

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

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

They are full of problems and stresses and this Jesus has shown that he can solve them. He can heal them. He can save them. He can make it all go away… he’s the Doctor that Harriet Jones was pleading for.

But God’s ways are not our ways. Jesus spent a week in Jerusalem, but he didn’t leave victorious… he left carried away to be buried in a tomb. The people couldn’t understand how his way of humility and love and grace and sacrifice could bring about the reign of God and TRULY save us… save us not from our current oppressive problems but save us to the core of our very being. And so they rejected him, crucified him, and left him for dead. If he refuses to help me the way I want to be helped, I don’t want any part of it.

I find this particular episode of Doctor Who to be such an interesting parallel, because the Doctor too is rejected in the end. Although he defeats the Sycorax in the challenge fight, he does so without killing the leader. He sends them off packing with a warning – “When you go back to the stars and tell others of this planet, when you tell them of its riches, its people, its potential, when you talk of the Earth, then make sure that you tell them this… IT IS DEFENDED!”

The Sycorax leave. They head back for the stars.

But Harriet Jones… the one who cried, “Save Us!” in the first place is not satisfied. He didn’t save them in the way she hoped he would. He didn’t save them in a way that would continue to isolate them from the stars. He didn’t save them in the way that she was completely willing to do. And so with a word, the Torchwood weapon is launched and the Sycorax are blown out of the sky.

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

May we have open minds this week. May we have open hearts this week. And may God surprise us and challenge us and transform us along this journey so that we might accept the amazing gift of salvation that he offers.

Hosanna!

Posted on April 1, 2012Leave a comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

3) Catch a glimpse of salvation

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

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

Amen and Amen.