John – 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:

Mary the Tower?

Posted on September 5, 2022Leave a comment

Text: Luke 8:1-3, 24:1-11, John 11

As summer draws to a close, we have spent time learning more about some bold characters from our Holy Bible.

They weren’t perfect and in many cases there was nothing all that special about them.

And yet, they were called to stand up, to lead, and to act in ways that were only possible because God was with them.

Today, we get to dive into the story of a woman that maybe we all think we know.

I’m curious… when you hear the name Mary Magdelene… what is the first thing that comes to your mind…

Go ahead and shout out your answers…

In my dictionary of women in scripture, Mary Magdelene is identified as “Mary #3” and the author of her entry, Carolyn Osiek describes her as: “the most famous of Jesus’ women disciples and the one who has been most misinterpreted in Christian history.” (p. 120)

What does scripture actually say about her?

In the passages we heard from this morning, we find Mary Magdalene listed among the women who traveled with Jesus and the twelve disciples.

She is specifically named as someone, “from whom seven demons had gone out,” (Luke 8:2), but also as someone who had her own wealth.

These women were not groupies or even paid to travel and support the men, but it mentions that they ministered out of their own resources.

We also heard from Luke that Mary Magdalene went to the tomb to care for the body of Jesus and was a first witness to the resurrection along with a couple of other women.

Her presence that morning is repeated by Matthew, Mark, and John.

John, however, has a slight adaptation. He places those women standing at the cross, but only Mary goes to the tomb that morning.

She has an encounter with Jesus where she mistakes him at first for the gardener and that lovely hymn, “In the Garden” recounts how much she wanted to tarry there in the presence of the resurrected Christ.

Now… How many of you remember Mary Magdalene as the woman who washed Jesus feet?

All four gospels recount this incident and she is often depicted with a vessel of ointment… but is she in the actual bible as doing so?

In Matthew 26 and Mark 14, an unnamed woman comes to him at a man named Simon’s house in the town of Bethany and this anointing is connected to the transition to his trial and execution… preparing him for burial.

Luke places the story in a different context and place, near the beginning of his ministry in chapter 7. He doesn’t name her either, although Luke adds the detail that she was a sinner. What kind of sinner? It doesn’t say, but we tend to assume that she was a prostitute even though the text does not indicate that.

Only John’s gospel includes a name… Mary, the sister of Lazarus and Martha. Note, this IS in Bethany again, which seems to be in line with Matthew and Marks accounts, although it is Lazarus’ home (John 12). And, this encounter follows chapter 11, where Jesus comes to Bethany to raise Lazarus from the dead and interacts with Mary and her sister Martha.

And yet, over and over in art, this woman is connected with Mary Magdalene.

And part of that is because in medieval times, some religious leaders like Pope Gregory the Great conflated several women in scriptures all together… including the women caught in adultery, the sinner who anointed Jesus feet, and the Mary we know is from Bethany.

Scholars like Hugh Pope, however, actually agree with this identification of Mary in John 11 with Mary Magdalene because of the central role that she plays in the gospel of John and the praise that Jesus bestows upon her.

What throws a wrench in all of this is when we assume that Mary Magdalene means Mary from a place named Magdalene… like we might think of Jospeh of Arimathea.

However, Luke actually helps us here.

In the Greek passage of Luke, it makes clear that this Mary is called Magdalene.

Not that she is from a place named Magdala or Migdal, but she is named and regarded in this way.

Much like others in this day have nicknames… like Simon who is called Peter, the Rock.

Or Thomas, who is called Didymus, the Twin.

We aren’t actually sure where a village named Magdala or Migdal might even have existed in this time… but magdala in Aramaic means tower or great.

So is Mary of Bethany simply called, Mary Magdelene? Mary the Tower?

To throw a deeper wrench into the conversation, I want to share with you some recent scholarship on John’s gospel and this woman, Mary of Bethany.

I am just learning about this myself, so I am drawing on an account that religious historian and author Diana Butler Bass shared at the end of July at the Wild Goose Festival. (https://dianabutlerbass.substack.com/p/mary-the-tower)

She tells the story of Elizabeth Schrader, who is a doctoral student of the New Testament at Duke University.

Schrader was an active person of faith, but didn’t set out to be a scholar.

However, “one day Libbie walked into a church garden in the city of New York seeking refuge from the city, and sat down to pray. And as she prayed, she heard a voice and the voice said, ‘Follow Mary Magdalene.’”

She thought this was a bit strange, but she listened.

She wrote a song about Mary Magdalene.

She decided to learn more.

And eventually she found her way to seminary and started a master’s program in New Testament studies.

Her final thesis was on John 11 and Mary Magdalene and her professor invited her to look at some of the earliest texts we have.

That is how Elizabeth Schrader found herself sitting with a digital copy of Papyrus 66. Butler Bass describes it as “the oldest and most complete text we have of the gospel of John… dated around the year 200,” and that it “had been sitting in a library for a very, very, very, very long time.”

She uses her newfound knowledge of Greek and reads the first sentence.

Now… here is what my New Revised Standard Version says:

Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. (11:1)

But that’s not what Schrader saw on this very, very, very, old page.

It read… translated to English:

Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and his sister Mary.

What is more, Schrader could see on the manuscript markings of how someone had gone in and tried to change it. His was changed to her. The second Mary in that line (Maria in the Greek) was changed to Martha… as one letter was written over.

At some point, someone had altered the oldest version we have of the gospel of John and split the character of Mary into two.

As Schrader kept reading, in John 11 and 12, in other places where it reads Martha, it originally said Mary.

Where it reads “sisters” it read “sister.”

Pronouns are changed.

And it isn’t just in Papyrus 66. She has discovered evidence of this in other ancient documents as well. (https://today.duke.edu/2019/06/mary-or-martha-duke-scholars-research-finds-mary-magdalene-downplayed-new-testament-scribes)

The repetition of actions and statements might not indicate actions by two different sisters, but a textual reiteration or duplication.

Schrader’s research as a master’s student has proven that the version of John’s gospel we have in our Bible’s today is different from earlier translations which have been altered.

Harvard Theological Review asked to publish her thesis as an article.

And what is more, the Nestle-Aland Translation Committee of the Greek New Testament asked her to come and present her findings to them.

Butler Bass describes this group as “a whole bunch of very old German men who have spent their entire lives making sure the Bibles that we have in English and all the other languages around the world are the closest and most precise Bibles that we can get to the original manuscripts.”

And right now, they are deciding whether or not Schrader’s research should become a new footnote or if we need to actually change John 11 and John 12 and take Martha out.

Now, Luke’s gospel has a Mary and Martha who are sisters. This is the story where Martha is ministering and busy and her sister, Mary, sits at Jesus feet. No mention of a brother, nor being in Bethany.

We aren’t talking about this family.

But in John’s gospel, we are discovering might never have been a Martha.

Why does this matter?

It matter’s because there are only two people in the gospels who confess Jesus is the Messiah.

The first is from Peter… Simon Peter… the Rock.

In Matthew, Mark, and Luke, Peter says: “You are the Messiah, the son of the Living God.”

And Jesus replies, “You are Peter, upon this rock I will build my church.”

In John’s gospel, this happens right before the resurrection of Lazarus.

And the person who says it in our Bible’s today is this sister, Martha.

“Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Christ, God’s Son, the one who is coming into the world.” (11:27, CEB).

However, manscripts by Tertullian – a Christian author from the second century, about the time Papyrus 66 is from… indicate this confession was by Mary.

In her paper, Schrader concludes with some important questions:

“Who exactly added Martha to this story, and why? Is it possible that one very important figure in the Fourth Gospel has been deliberately split into three?” (p. 52, “Was Martha of Bethany Added to the Fourth Gospel in the Second Century?” https://dukespace.lib.duke.edu/dspace/bitstream/handle/10161/18592/Schrader%2018.May.2016.pdf?sequence=3&isAllowed=y)

Later traditions and writings around Mary Magdalene describe her as an important disciple, a leader, a spokeswoman.

The kind of woman that we see in Luke 8 who is traveling as an important figure alongside the disciples.

The research that is being done today is leading us to see her as more of a central figure within the gospel of John as well.

I want to close with how Diana Butler Bass understands these implications:

Is it really true that the other Christological confession of the New Testament comes from of the voice of Mary Magdalene? That the Gospel of John gives the most important statement in the entirety of the New Testament, not to a man, but to a woman, and to a really important woman who will show up later as the first witness to the resurrection.

You see how these two stories work together. In John 11, Lazarus is raised from the dead, and who is there but Mary Magdalene? And at that resurrection, she confesses that Jesus is indeed the son of God. And then you go just 10 chapters later and who is the person at the grave? She mistakes him, at first, thinks he’s the gardener. She turns around and he says, ‘Mary,’ and she goes, ‘Lord.’ It’s Mary Magdalene.

…Mary is indeed the tower of faith. That our faith is the faith of that woman who would become the first person to announce the resurrection. Mary the Witness, Mary the Tower, Mary the Great, and she has been obscured from us… This is not a Dan Brown novel. This is the Nestle-Aland Translation Committee of the Greek New Testament. This is the Harvard Theological Review. This is some of the best, most cutting edge historical research in the world.

Who was Mary Magdalene?

At one time, she had been possessed by demons, but they were cast out.

She was wealthy enough to support herself and the ministry of others.

She was a disciple of Jesus.

She knew him to be her Lord.

She was the first witness to the resurrection.

And more and more we are coming to understand that she might have been that sister of Lazarus, who sent word for Jesus to come and heal her brother, and who confessed that he was the Messiah.

The woman who in John 12 hosted a dinner and anointed his feet with nard.

We are starting to discover that she might be a central figure in the Gospel of John and not merely one among many minor female characters.

And for anyone who struggles to see themselves among the followers of Jesus depicted there…

For anyone who doubts the role of women in the church, especially in leadership…

Well, this is a big deal.

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.

Return. Repair. Restore

Posted on October 31, 2021Leave a comment

Text: Genesis 33:1, 3-5, 8-11; John 21: 1-6, 9-11, 15-17

Oh friends, on this All Hallow’s Eve we find ourselves with two ghost stories of our scriptures…

Okay, okay, they aren’t exactly ghost stories.

But they are about people who were lost, left for dead, and cast out.

They are about relationships coming back from the brink of death.

They are about betrayal and reconciliation and forgiveness.

About laying old demons and ghosts and mistakes to rest so that new life can burst forth.

And while we might not usually think about these two scriptures as stewardship material, both of them tell a story about the hurt and harm that comes when we prioritize our own economic and social well-being at the expense of others… and about the abundance of life we find when we allow God to restore us.

The first story we heard this morning began with conflict in the womb!

Two twin brothers vying to be first and for their place in the world.

And when Jacob comes out second, clinging to the heel of his brother, Esau, he becomes the vulnerable one.

Only, Jacob… with the blessing of his mother… was not satisfied with his place.

He schemed to steal his brother’s birthright, blessing, and inheritance.

Jacob took what did not belong to him and damaged relationships and lives in the process.

He has to flee for his life… which leads us to wonder if any of it was worth it.

Many of our families have experienced pain and conflict and bickering when a loved one dies.

Who gets what, how things are divided, what was said in the will or what was promised… the tension and stress of these realities are compounded by grief that comes out sideways.

I’ve experienced this in my own extended family and the heartbreaking division and separation that resulted and still has not been reconciled.

But the story of Jacob and Esau is not limited to a family squabble about inheritance.

It is also a story about how the happenstances of our birth: where and when we are born impact our ability to thrive in this world.

It is a story about the unequal distribution of wealth and resources.

And it is also a story about what happens when any party focuses on their own self-interest at the expense of others.

This past week, I participated virtually as a director at the fall meeting of Global Ministries.

As we celebrate ministry from everywhere-to-everywhere, we also celebrate the outpouring of compassion and love that is a key part of our mission.

And, I was reminded once again of the damage that inequity has not just on the vulnerable, but on the entire world.

From climate change, to global migration, to the disparity in Covid-19 vaccination distribution, our lives are interconnected.

Any belief that we can procure and protect our own individual or national economic security without a ripple of consequences that impact others and ultimately come back to us is false.

Our gospel reading is one of the resurrection stories that John records, but to fully understand its message we also must go back in time.

We return to the shoreline where a struggling fisherman heard the call to drop his nets and follow Jesus.

Peter’s life was transformed in that moment as he left behind his livelihood to embark on God’s mission at work in his life.

Most of us could not make such a drastic and risky change in our lives and we cannot help but admire him for doing so.

And yet, even Peter, had moments where he put his own well-being and security above the call of Jesus in his life.

In a moment where he could have stood up for his Messiah, Peter denied that he knew the Lord.

Not once. Not twice. But three times.

He got tangled up in his own self-interest and the guilt and the shame haunted him.

Even after experiencing the miracle of the resurrection, Peter wasn’t sure what to do with himself and instead of carrying on the ministry and getting to work, he acted like none of it had every happened.

He went back to business as usual and put his boat out to sea to catch some fish.

I see in Peter’s story a journey that many people of faith have experienced.

We have conversion moments and mountaintop moments along our faith journey that radically shift our minds and transform our hearts.

We become more loving and generous and bold in our faith.

But there are moments that we become caught by those old fears or shame or selfish desires and we slip back into business as usual.

Our energy and passion for God’s work in the world starts to wane.

Faith becomes about me, rather than we.

We see this when folks burnout.

We see this when churches become inwardly focused and maintain the status quo.

We see this even in denominational conversations when the fears about the budget and funding lead us to cuts that eliminate vital ministries.

And in all of those cases, our ministry becomes more known by arguments and complacency, rather than the life-giving power of Jesus.

Imagine if that is where those stories each ended.

A world in which self-interest and fear, division and inequity ruled the narrative.

But friends, that is not the end of these stories.

Our scriptures this morning are stories about how when we return back to our relationships we have the opportunity to repair the harm and God restores us to abundant living.

They are about the restoration of dignity.

The restoration of broken relationships with our neighbors.

The restoration of our relationship to God.

The restoration of a new economy – God’s economy.

Jacob returns home and seeks to repair any harm caused to his sibling by inundating him with gifts of lifestock and servants and wealth.

Goats and sheep and camels and cows and donkeys… all sent as a gift of reconciliation.

Jacob is making amends for what he had stolen.

And yet even as he is preparing to grovel and beg for his life from his elder brother, Esau runs out to meet him with radical love and forgiveness.

Esau is focused on love and can’t even begin to comprehend this gift.

“I have enough. I have plenty. Keep what is yours,” is his response.

When we are focused on love and reconciliation… there is always enough.

Because there is no mine and yours. No winners and losers. No divisions of class.

We simply work to care for one another.

Or as Bishop Sue Haupert-Johnson put it – we practice gentleness… magnanimity… “yielding me for the sake of we.”

It is not just our relationships that are restored, but our very souls and our communal life together.

In the same way, Peter is struggling when he realizes that he cannot simply return to the old ways. They fish all night and catch nothing.

But a familiar voice calls out from the sea shore and challenges him to throw his net on the other side.

Jesus sets a feast of forgiveness and abundance, reaching out, ready to offer grace.

Three questions follow their breakfast by the water.

Three opportunities to confess and proclaim.

Three chances for Peter to reconcile his guilt and shame over his denial.

And in the instructions that follow each question, Jesus shows Peter… and shows us… how to move forward.

Feed my lamps.

Take care of my sheep.

Feed my sheep.

Be about the work of the church.

Focus on what I have called you to do.

Love one another.

Be generous with what you have.

Forgive.

Repair.

Restore.

And you will find life and abundance.

Love God.

Love your neighbor.

Love yourself.

We don’t have to sacrifice everything in order to be good stewards.

We are simply asked to remember that the well-being and life of the people around us is essential to the well-being and life of ourselves.

We are asked to remember that abundance is meant to be shared.

That burdens are as well.

And that God’s money story is one of blessing, provision, forgiveness, and love.

May that story change our lives. Amen.

Like a Shepherd

Posted on April 25, 2021Leave a comment

Text: John 10: 11-18; 1 John 3:16-24

Last week in our time of worship we remembered that WE are EASTER people.

We are the living proof of the resurrection.

We are the body of Christ, alive, serving, sharing the good news with the world.

That’s all well and good…

But what does it actually look like to live it out?

What does it mean to practice resurrection in our daily lives?

Pastor Katie, you might be asking… what am I supposed to do?

In the assigned lectionary readings for this season after Easter, we go back and we remember how Jesus taught us to live.

And today, we find a very familiar piece of scripture…

Jesus proclaims, “I am the good shepherd.”

I am the one who lays down my life for you.

I know you…

I really know you…

And I am willing to give up my life to make sure that you are okay.

And not just you.

All of the sheep.

The ones right here…

And all of the ones out there, too.

These words are so comforting.

It is a reminder that my God will not abandon me.

That my Lord will not leave me in my struggle, but wants to lead me to still waters and green pastures.

In fact… there is this video that has been going around this week that I think perfectly exemplifies how the Good Shepherd loves us…

Let’s watch:

How many of you are that sheep?

Just me?

No? Of course not… it’s all of us.

And no matter how many times we get stuck, or fall in the crack, or screw it all up, Jesus doesn’t abandon us.

Jesus, our good shepherd, was willing to go through the valley of the shadow of death in spite of our failures, and mistakes, and sins.

My Savior loves me so much that even his own life is put on the line for me.

Or as Debie Thomas reminds us, “As the Good Shepherd, Jesus loves the obstinate and the lost… he’s in it for the long haul, he not only frolics with lambs, but wrestles with wolves. He not only tends the wounds of his beloved rams and ewes; he buries them when their time comes.” (https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/2990-a-shepherd-who-is-good)

Oh, what wondrous love is this.

As Christians and people of faith, we are so eager and ready to claim this message.

It feels good to be loved like that.

It is amazing to have this kind of assurance, right?

Someone else gave up everything so that I might be saved.

And our hearts are all warm and fuzzy and we are held in the hands of our God and everything is right with the world.

We read this story in the season after Easter not because it makes us feel good, but because it is a reminder of how we are now supposed to live.

How we are supposed to act.

How we are supposed to embody the power of the resurrection in the world today.

You see, if we are now the body of Christ, alive and present in the world, then we are called to carry on the love of The Good Shepherd.

Or as we read in 1 John 3:16-20:

This is how we know love: Jesus laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for our [siblings]. But if someone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but refuses to help – how can the love of God dwell in a person like that? Little children, let’s not love with words or speech but with action and truth.

Or as we’ll read next week from John 15:12:

This is my commandment: love each other just as I have loved you.

We are not supposed to simply rest in the arms of the Good Shepherd.

We are called to embody what it means to be a shepherd.

I think about Peter on the seashore, eating breakfast with Jesus after the resurrection.

Jesus told him to feed his sheep. To tend his sheep.

We are called to walk in the footsteps of the Good Shepherd.

We are commanded to love like Jesus loved.

What does that mean?

Well, let’s take this Good Shepherd scripture apart and see what it has to teach us.

First: we are called to relationship.

Jesus says throughout this parable, “I know my own sheep and they know me.”

The good shepherd is not a thief, or a stranger, or even a hired hand.

A thief seeks to harm others.

A stranger shows up and the sheep will scatter because they don’t know their voice.

And a hired hand, well, they are in it for the paycheck and the sheep don’t matter.

But the good shepherd has built a relationship with the flock.

And we are called to build relationships with the people around us.

We are called to get to know one another, to share our joys and concerns and life together.

As a church, we can do this through our prayers, but also through the times of fellowship and how we show up in one another’s lives.

One of the primary ways we do this at Immanuel is through some of our small group ministries… whether it is choir or a bible study or the mission trip.

Because the truth is, it takes time to get to know someone.

And when you get to spend time together each week or all at once on a trip, we learn an awful lot about what people are excited about, what is important to them, and how they struggle.

And all of those things then allow us to show up and stand beside one another and remind each other that they matter.

We care about what happens to them.

Second: we are called to look beyond this flock.

Jesus says that he has other sheep and I think that this is a call to look beyond our circles of friends and colleagues and loved ones.

It is a call to share the love of God far and wide.

We don’t get to determine who is in and who is out and who is worthy.

We are simply called to love.

We are called to recognize that every life we come into contact with matters.

Not because of how we benefit or gain from the relationship, but simply because they matter.

And goodness that’s hard to live out.

Because there are some people in this world who try our patience.

Who just can’t seem to get it together.

Who we have been willing to write off or diminish or ignore.

In fact… I want you to picture in your mind right now someone like that.

Someone that you have a hard time loving.

Do you see their face?

Okay… now I want to invite you to watch that video again, and I want you to imagine that they are the person stuck in that ditch.

We are called to love our enemies.

To pray for those who persecute us.

To forgive over and over and over again.

And to keep showing up in the lives of people who keep making mistakes… because they matter, too.

Finally: we are called to love sacrificially.

To lay down our lives for other people.

Sometimes that looks like giving from our own abundance and blessing to make sure the basic needs of others are met… like folks from Immanuel will do this afternoon as we reach out in love to our homeless neighbors through Joppa.

Sometimes it is standing up, protecting, and grieving with people around us who are vulnerable… like so many neighbors gathered together this week to stand at a vigil in support of the central Iowa Black community.

Sometimes it is setting aside our own desires or comfort to take on actions that benefit the common good… like we have all done by wearing masks and social distancing to flatten the curve.

And sometimes, we are called to give everything. In the line of duty, or service, or love, we put our lives at risk so that others might live. From law enforcement officers to hospital workers to missionaries who serve in dangerous places, and more…

We are not asked to love just when it is safe or easy, but in the midst of wolves and powers and forces beyond our control as well.

We are called to speak truth and work for change in the fierce and powerful spirit of love.

What does it mean to practice the resurrection?

It means to build relationships and make sure people know that they matter.

It means to stretch our love beyond those of our tribe so that all might know the good news.

And it means that we carry that love into situations that are broken and hurting and we show up with our full selves and work towards God’s promised future.

There is only on Good Shepherd… but as disciples of Christ, we are called to love like him more and more every single day.

May it be so. Amen.

Again & Again, We Draw on Courage

Posted on March 28, 2021Leave a comment

Text: John 12:1-19

Over these past few years, our church has become a sacred space for a group of folks who once called Myanmar home.

Their families came here to the United States seeking opportunity and possibility and escape from violence they found welcome not only in our city, but here in this building.

This week, at our Global Ministries meeting, I heard a report from National Justice for our Neighbors. This incredible United Methodist organization provides legal assistance for immigrants, asylum seekers and refugees from across the globe. In their clinics across the United States, they serve people from more than 122 countries.

One of the top five nations in 2020 served is Myanmar… largely because of the JFON clinic right here in Des Moines.

We’ve gotten to know these neighbors through Wednesday night suppers and VBS and third grade bible and by joining in with a few of their quarterly revivals.

Over the last few months, my heart has ached for these new friends of ours as word came about a coup in their homeland.

The seeds of democracy that were beginning to sprout have been hijacked by military forces that are determined to hang on to the power and position they enjoyed for over 70 years.

As protestors have risen up in the streets, the military junta has responded with force. Yesterday, 114 protestors were killed when the military switched to live ammo.

Now, the people of Myanmar find themselves living in a situation that feels oh so familiar, and yet so hard to comprehend.

I reached out a few weeks ago to Mu and asked how we can pray for her community here and back in Myanmar. Peace and stability are hard to come by, but she was grateful to know that they have our support.

As I thought of these friends and neighbors of ours and the experience of their homeland, I began to consider the reality of the people of Jerusalem at the time of Jesus.

It is easy to forget that Jerusalem and Israel were occupied by military might.

The Roman Empire ruled the land… not the Israelites.

And the Jewish leaders we read about on these pages of scripture only had as much authority as the Romans allowed them to have.

Step out of line or raise too much fuss and their positions could just as easily be taken away.

The longing for a Savior was not just a spiritual yearning.

It was political, too.

It was about God toppling over all of the systems and powers and authorities that were holding the people back.

It was about God’s promised future taking root and becoming real, not in some heavenly reality, but on earth, on that land, in that place.

In the gospels, we hear glimpses of this promise: “Thy will be done on earth.”

“God became flesh and lived among us.”

“ The Kingdom of Heaven is here.”

In the gospel of John in particular, which we have been following for a few weeks, the ministry of Jesus and the inbreaking of God’s reign is causing a lot of friction and tension.

Every step of the way, every sign, every teaching is creating conflict with the religious, political, and social establishments.

Upending the world as they knew it.

And all of this comes to a head in chapter 11 when Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead.

Lazarus lives near Jerusalem and going there to heal… or to raise him… was itself a risky proposition.

But the love of Jesus calls Lazarus out of the tomb, knowing that it would cost his own life.

And then, knowing that people wanted to kill him…

Knowing that the powers of this world wanted to destroy his message…

Knowing that everything was on the line…

Jesus entered Jerusalem. Not quietly. Not undercover.

But drawing upon the strength of scripture and tradition and the community, he stages a kind of political theatre.

He uses Messianic imagery from the scriptures, riding on the colt, a sign of a King entering the city and he does it perhaps at the same time as the Roman governor, Pilate, would have been paraded into Jerusalem for the feast by another gate.

“Through the Palms” Rev. Lauren Wright Pittman | A Sanctified Art | www.sanctifiedart.org

It was a living, breathing protest against those in power.

In the same moment that hands were lifted in praise, others were lifted in shouts of accusation.

And those who showed up to line the streets and shout their, “Hosannas!” were doing so at their own risk.

In her piece, “Through the Palms,” Rev. Lauren Wright Pittman tries to capture this moment. You can see both the fingers pointing and the hands lifted.

In the midst of it all, Jesus pauses.

When we have a target on our back, sometimes we need to stop and steel ourselves.

We need to draw on courage.

Pittman writes about what Jesus must have been imagining as he closed his eyes and stroked the donkey’s hair… the anguish of Mary and Martha, the fragrance of the burial perfume, the judging glare of Judas… reminders of what these steps into Jerusalem would entail… death and resistance and misunderstanding.

Pittman offers this image, “as a reminder to call upon God for the courage you need to rest and recharge for the work ahead. But I hope it also heartens you to move forward in courage, even in the midst of great resistance.”

The very word, courage, comes from the Latin word for heart.

“Courage is deep within us;” Rev. Lisle Gwynn Garrity writes, “drawing on courage is both internal and external. We often find it when we most need it, when everything else has been stripped away.”

When we draw upon God, upon our traditions, upon one another, we find the strength we need to “take heart” and keep going.

There is so much in our world today that calls for courageous action.

Whether it is standing up to white supremacy, or challenging injustice in institutions, or advocating for the vulnerable in the halls of congress…

Or more ordinary, every day things like challenging a bully in your life or speaking up for yourself…

Whether it is finding the courage to address your own mental health, or to search for a new job that brings you life and allows you to use your gifts…

When we catch a glimpse of how things could be, sometimes we need to be still and recharge our spirits and connect with that well of strength in our own hearts to step forward and act.

Like faithful servants and prophets and disciples before us, we draw on courage to move towards the vision of who and what God desires this world to become.

And often, when we tap into that courage we find creative ways of resisting and challenging the world as it is.

Like the men and women and children that lined the streets on Palm Sunday to wave branches and shout hosannas and to call out for a new king to come and save us… even if it meant speaking out against forces that could kill them.

Or the ways that everyday folks in Myanmar are living out this kind of courageous Palm Sunday protest against the military forces oppressing the democratic spirit.

Even in the midst of deadly response from the military junta, they are taking to the streets to resist. The images shared here are from Frontier Myanmar, a community of independent journalists in the country.

The theologian and poet, Maren Tirabassi, captured the courageous spirit of their protest in her poem, “Hope is a bag of onions”

Hope is a bag of onions
I am praying for Myanmar and I am crying,
then I open my Australian newspaper
and an article by “Anonymous”
tells me about new creative protest.

Some is by Generation Z surely,
those who do not remember
the horrific violence of 1988 or 2007,
but know they do not want
the coup to succeed.
The generation of “pop up” and “work around,”
is joined also by many others.

Every night is the “metal bucket protest,”
fifteen minutes of banging pots and pans.
Too short to pinpoint the homes,
and too traditional,
after all, it is
the way to drive out evil spirits.

Ten cars stop in the road, open their hoods,
tell police they’ve broken down –
traffic grinds to a halt.
A bride in a wedding dress
holds a sign telling the world
she doesn’t want her babies
to grow up under martial law.

And students cross the streets
with bags of onions,
except there are holes in them.
Cars stop,
while they pick up and bag again,
pick up and bag again –
onions, the same ones,
over and over again.

I am praying for Myanmar
in the midst of this terrible coup,
and my heart fills
with their tremendous courage –
today these onions do not make me cry.

I am praying daily for the people of Myanmar and for our neighbors here…

and I hope you will join me.

And I hope that we might all draw on the courage of Christ as we live out our faith in this world, that we might stand up for the vulnerable, and speak out against things that would destroy, and together build a world that looks more and more like the reign of God every single day.

Again & Again, God Loves First

Posted on March 14, 20211 Comment

Text: John 3:14-21

One of my favorite books is “Hope for the Flowers.”

It tells the story of a little caterpillar named Stripe who is looking for something… he just isn’t sure what it is.

He just knows, deep within, that there is something more out there.

One day, he comes across this mound… this heap… this mountain of other caterpillars, all climbing on top of one another trying to get as high as they possibly can.

There are rumors of something wonderful at the top of the pile.

So Stripe joins them. He wants to see and understand and know what is up there, even though he has no idea what it is.

Along the way, he makes some terrible choices. He hurts others. He pushes them out of the way.

He has to stop looking other caterpillars in their eyes so he doesn’t feel so bad about what he is doing.

He was looking for life among things that were sucking the life right out of him.

The story reminds me of my good friend, John.

For years, he worked in the corporate world and successfully built his own company.

He climbed to the top, seeking success and power and telling himself when he got to the top, he could finally enjoy life.

But when he got there, he still had this longing that he just couldn’t fulfill and he couldn’t be sure that anything he had done was worth it.

It also reminds me of Nicodemus.

He was part of the ruling class in Jerusalem and had done everything right.

He was the epitome of power and privilege.

And yet, deep within, he knew that there was something he was missing… a longing he couldn’t quite put his finger on. An empty space in his soul and answers he couldn’t grasp.

Have you ever felt like that?

Have you ever been stumbling your way through life, doing what you thought you were supposed to be doing, and woke up and wondered… what am I missing?

In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul writes that we all do this.

It is the life of sin.

“[we] let the world, which doesn’t know the first thing about living, tell [us] how to live. [We] fill our lungs with polluted unbelief, and then exhale disobedience. We all did it… all of us in the same boat. It’s a wonder God didn’t lose God’s temper and do away with the whole lot of us… “ (Ephesians 2:1-6 MSG, selected)

Actually, pause here for a moment, because if we remember from the first Sunday of Lent, God sure does have the capacity to wipe away humanity and start from scratch…

Only God has chosen not to do it.

God set the bow in the clouds as a reminder of the promise to keep meeting us where we are.

Paul goes on to say, “instead, immense in mercy and with an incredible love, God embraced us. God took our sin-dead lives and made us alive in Christ…. with no help from us!” (Ephesians 2:1-6 MSG, selected)

It is an echo of those words of Christ we read in the gospel this morning.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” (John 3:16, NRSV)

Salvation, life, wholeness… this is what God wants for us.

This is God’s gift to us.

This is God’s plan for our lives.

Our God wants nothing more than to hold us in love and grace and mercy, like we might hold a newborn infant.

Before we can understand it…

Before we deserve it…

God loves first.

In our United Methodist tradition, it is what we call prevenient grace.

From the latin: pre-venient, “before” “to go”

God’s grace, God’s love, comes first.

This week, I learned about some experiments done in the 1970’s by Dr. Benjamin Libet. He was a neuroscientist who wanted to understand what was happening in our brains as we make decisions.

We think that we make a decision… say to flex our fingers… then, our brain initiates the electrical impulses, and then our muscles respond, right?

What he actually discovered is that before we consciously make a decision to do something, our brain has already started the process!

FIRST our brain activity begins.

THEN we make a decision.

Finally, our body responds and our fingers flex.

So, it kind of seems like our decision wasn’t actually the CAUSE of the action.

But he kept working and discovered that we CAN consciously make a decision to stop an action that our brain has already initiated.

He asked people to resist the urge to flex their fingers as soon as they become aware of it.

When we become aware of an urge to act, we can choose to stop.

Libet called this ‘free won’t.”

We can’t choose to DO something… but we can choose to stop.

What does this have to do with grace?

Well, let’s change the outcome we are seeking.

Instead of trying to flex our fingers, what if we are trying to be saved?

Scripture tells us over and over again that there is nothing we can do to earn God’s grace.

There is nothing we can do get salvation for ourselves.

No matter how much we want it, or strive for it, or choose it.

And that is because our conscious decision to love God is like our conscious decision to wiggle our fingers… it is always secondary.

What comes first is God’s love.

God’s prevenient grace.

The very way that God built us for relationship and salvation.

God laid the foundation and the groundwork for us to receive salvation before we could even conceive of the idea to love God back.

We love… because God loves first.

Now… we can consciously reject that love.

We can resist it.

We can try to do our own thing.

Like my friend John… or Stripe the caterpillar… or Nicodemus…

But God’s love and grace is always there, sending out signals and nudges and glimpses of the possibility that awaits us if we stop resisting.

In the book, “Hope for the Flowers,” one day Stripe sees something that makes his heart stop.

He catches a glimpse, a possibility of something he can’t quite comprehend. He sees a butterfly.

He stops climbing, curls up on a branch, and builds a cocoon.

He doesn’t know how he knows to do it, but he does.

That’s what happened to my friend, John.

One Sunday, the Holy Spirit showed up at church and he caught a glimpse of another life that was possible for him.

He went home and put his business up for sale and enrolled in seminary.

John had no clue what was waiting for him, except that everything was about to change.

And Nicodemus?

He may have come to Jesus in the middle of the night, unsure of those nudges with his soul and afraid of what others might think.

But, he, too, is forever changed by the grace of God.

The next time Nicodemus appears in the gospel of John, he has stepped into public view after the crucifixion to ask for the body of Jesus.

It is when Jesus is lifted up on the cross that he fully understands the life that God intended for him.

God loves first.

God holds us and shows us what life, real life, is all about.

And that longing deep within us…?

We want to hold God back.

We want to curl our tiny fingers around God’s and cling to what is possible.

We can get ourselves distracted.

We can resist.

We can say we don’t deserve it because of the things we have done.

But none of that changes the fact that we are held.

That we have always been held.

And that if we just let go of trying to do it all ourselves…

If we stopped saying no…

We would discover that God has already given us the life of salvation we long for.

Amen.

Again & Again, God Shows the Way

Posted on March 7, 2021Leave a comment

Text: John 2:13-22

From the beginning of time, God has been trying to show us the way.

The way to abundant life.

The way to shalom.

We catch a glimpse of how God wants us to live in the laws of Scripture, which Bible scholar, Walter Bruggemann describes as “God’s full intention for the life of creation.”

But again and again, that intention is distorted in our lives.

Many years ago, our family visited Arnold’s Park at Lake Okoboji.

One of the highlights was the tilted house. Walking sideways on crooked steps and the ceilings seem to shrink above you feels odd and disconcerting.

We all know what a house should look like and feel like, and this was not it.

From there, my neice dragged me to the house of mirrors.

As we stood in front of skinny mirrors and fat mirrors and wavy mirrors, she giggled and pointed as we were transformed into creatures we didn’t recognize.

One minute I had mile-long legs and the next a neck as long as a giraffe.

We laughed and told stories about what it would be like to live with really tall tummies and itty-bitty heads.

I have to admit, I found the sight less amusing that she did.

The distortions brought what I perceived to be my flaws into greater focus and blew them out of proportion… or reduced my favorite feature into something grotesque.

We’ve been talking a lot about reality for the last few weeks… and how we come to know what is true about ourselves and our faith.

Sometimes, we don’t realize that we have been looking at ourselves through funhouse mirrors.

We think we know what is true and real about ourselves and our communities.

But perhaps, we have simply been living for too long in a tilted house full of funhouse mirrors.

We have grown familiar and comfortable with the distortion.

So when God shows us a more excellent way, it can feel like our world gets turned upside down and inside out.

So often, Jesus is portrayed as a gentle soul who walks alongside us and listens to our thoughts.

Yet how often does he do the unexpected?

He shows up in places he shouldn’t, loves the unloveable, calls the unworthy and brings us life through his death.

Instead of allowing us to stay comfortably where we are, the Christ we meet in the scriptures challenges everything we know.

In our reading this morning from John, Jesus is in Jerusalem for the annual Passover festival.

Those making the long trip would not have brought the animals required for sacrifice with them, but the streets and Temple would have been packed with vendors offering animals for sale.

Others exchanged currency so that titles and offerings could be made in coinage that did not bear a human image, like the Greek and Roman coins did.

This was the normal, expected way of doing things.

This was routine life in the Temple, especially around the holy days.

Without these vendors, the system just didn’t work.

This structure, with its rules and order, vendors and priests, were all part of how an individual made a connection with the presence of God.

You jumped through the hoops because that was the system.

But as God reaches out to show us another way, some of those systems needed to change.

God wanted to take up residence not within the curtains of the inner sanctuary of a building, but to lay aside glory and be born among us.

This is the moment, for John, when the new understanding of the Temple is born.

overturn
by lisle gwynn garrity
inspired by john 2:13-22
sanctifiedart.org

Jesus begins flipping over tables.

He disrupts the system.

He takes everything we knew and turned it upside down and inside out.

It is chaos and disorder and it will take days for the Temple to get up and running again.

All eyes turn to Jesus and the religious leaders cry out, “By what authority are you doing these things?”

“Who on earth do you think you are?”

They need something to make sense of what has just happened and why everything is in disarray.

Jesus responds by pointing to his own body, the very dwelling place of God.

This story is not about the moneychangers or the Temple… but about Jesus.

It is a caution against any institutional systems and structures that have distorted and twisted our ability to see what God is doing in our midst.

More than once in the history of faith, the Holy Spirit has moved in our churches and turned over some tables and the church failed to respond because of rules and traditions.

A new opportunity for ministry gets snuffed out by people who don’t catch the vision.

A church gets so wrapped up in what color their carpet is that they can’t see the neighbors in need outside their door.

Someone experiences a call to follow Jesus, but the book of rules says that it just can’t be possible.

From the inclusion of women in ministry, to the welcoming of immigrant communities of faith, to the questions we are wrestling with today over whether we will embrace LGBTQ+ people in the life of the church… I have seen time and time again that our systems and our rules and our traditional ways of doing things can get in the way of the very presence of God in our midst.

I love the United Methodist Church… most days…

But as Jesus turns over the tables in the Temple this week, I can’t help but think about the systems that we have put in place that keep us from the real ministry of Christ in this world.

This week, we announced the necessary postponement of our 2020 General Conference to the fall of 2022. With it comes a virtual meeting in May, to approve suspending our rules, so that we can vote by mail on twelve items to keep the institution functioning.

A friend and colleague, Rev. Andy Bryan put it this way:

“I am part of a denomination that needs to set a meeting to suspend our rules so that we can create new rules to dictate what we are supposed to do when we cannot meet to create rules.”

From unnecessary paperwork, inflexible constitutions, timelines that are out of sync with the world, and standards for ministry that deny the way the Holy Spirit moves in the lives of people… if we could flip some tables and transform some systems to better support ministry, we all would benefit.

A lot of us are asking hard questions about what it really means to be the church and do the ministry of Jesus.

For too long, we made a home in a system that felt comfortable… for us.

But the walls were crooked and the mirrors have been distorting who we thought we were.

We are coming to terms with how our institution has supported racist policies and colonial attitudes and are seeing the Holy Spirit move from the margins and tear down walls and chains that have been keeping us from the way of Jesus.

God, after all, does not dwell in the boxes we have created or the books we have written.

God desires more than rituals and rules.

And in our scripture for this morning, we see that lived out… for even with the Temple disrupted, people found a way to celebrate Passover.

They found ways to praise God and remember their history.

It wasn’t the building or the specific rituals that were important… but their relationship with the God who came and dwelt among them and led them out of oppression… the one who showed them what it means to truly live.

A drawing of a bird

Description automatically generated with medium confidence

The Akan people of Ghana have a concept called Sankofa…

San… ko… fa…

In their language it means to go back and take what you need to go forward.

They represent this idea with the image of a bird, reaching back to take an egg from its back.

When we realize that we’ve been living in tilted houses and looking into funhouse mirrors, sometimes the best way to move forward is to go back and remember who we are.

To remember our call to love God and to love our neighbor.

To remember the plan for God’s shalom and the foundation of our life together in the commandments.

To remember that God has already shown us what is good: to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God.

This year, our lives have been turned upside down and inside out.

But in so many ways, we, too, have had the opportunity to embrace the idea of Sankofa.

We’ve returned to the basics of our family life.

We’ve spent time reaching out in love and care to one another.

We’ve remembered that God doesn’t just live inside the sanctuary here at Immanuel, but is present in our homes and our work, too.

We’ve embraced generosity towards our neighbors.

As the tables of our lives… and our church… have been turned over this year… I’m grateful for how God’s love has shown the way.

In just a few minutes, we are going to gather around the table and share in communion.

Before we do, we want to share with you the theme song for this Lenten series… “Again and Again” by the Many.

As you watch and listen and pray, we also invite you to gather whatever elements you have at home and bring to them to your table… or coffee table… or set them in front of you.

Pour yourself a glass of juice.

Break apart your roll or donut or slice of bread and make sure each person in your home has a piece.

Let your hearts and minds and bodies prepare for the invitation to meet God right where you are.