Nehemiah: Renewing Our Commitment

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Text: Nehemiah 8:5-10; 9:1-3, 38; 10:28-29

Last week, we talked about some of the opposition that the builders and Nehemiah faced while building the wall. 

He had to deal with scandal and oppression perpetrated by his own officials…

but he also had to create plans to protect the people from enemies who wanted to attack and destroy their work. 

And then suddenly, the work was complete.

It took just fifty-two days to rebuild the wall of Jerusalem. 

FIFTY-TWO DAYS!

My drive home takes me down 63rd and they have been working to rebuild the bridges on Highway 28 over the Raccoon River since last summer and are only halfway done. 

But these everyday folks rebuilt the walls of the entire city in fifty-two days. 

So… what happened next? 

Did they throw a party?

No.  Nehemiah counts up the people.  

He takes a census of all of the Israelites and counts up 42,360 people, an additional 7,337 slaves, 345 singers, 736 horses, 245 mules, 435 camels, and 6,720 donkeys. 

And they take up an offering. 

You know, like you do. 

And then do they throw a party?

Nope.

Because all along this has not been a story about rebuilding a wall.

It has been a story about rebuilding a people.

Rebuilding a community that was centered on God. 

As we talked about in the first week of this series, in order to get to the good stuff and address their needs related to belonging and identity, they first had to make sure that they cared for safety and security needs. 

But once the walls were built and the gates restored and the officials were brought back in line from oppressive practices… well, the people could breathe. 

And they could begin to refocus on their relationship with God.

In fact, rather than Nehemiah initiating the next steps, he writes that the people gathered together and asked the scholar Ezra to bring out the Law of Moses. 

Ezra also had a calling… to rebuild the faith of the people, and his story can be found in the first half of the Ezra-Nehemiah saga.

As a priest, he understood that a right relationship with God was the only true source for security for the people. 

And he understood that God’s law was the foundation for that “right relationship.”  

The people are ready to listen.

So Ezra pulls out the scroll of the Law of Moses.

Many scholars think that this was likely what we know today as the Book of Deuteronomy, or “Second Law.” 

And from early in the morning until noon, he reads aloud from the scroll to the people. 

But friends… here is just how far away from the faith and their heritage the people were…

Ezra read the words, presumably in Hebrew… but the Levites, the priests, had to translate.

These, after all, were people who had grown up and spent their whole lives in Babylon and Persia. 

Or, they were the everyday folks who had been left behind and lived under oppression and they didn’t have priests and schools and institutions in place to continue their traditions.

They were all strangers to their own culture and they didn’t understand their own language 

And when they understood what the laws of Moses were asking of them, they wept.

Out of shame.

Out of guilt.

Out of frustration. 

This did not feel like a joyful discovery… but rather it only highlighted in their hearts how far away they were from God and who they had been called to be.

At one of our meetings with Global Ministries, we spent some time listening to the stories of Native American United Methodists. 

I can’t help but think of how the United States brutally removed indigenous people from their lands, when I think about the time of exile in Babylon for the people of Judah.

And in so many instances, our federal government and the religious partners who helped manage schools, focused on assimilation and removal of native culture, rather than allowing their traditions to flourish.

The same happened to Africans who were captured, sent halfway across the world, and forced into slavery. 

As the General Board of Global Ministry, we watched together, “More than a Word,” which explores the use of Native American mascots. 

What struck me among the stories were the voices of younger people who grew up either on reservations or even in more traditional white culture, but who were rediscovering their cultural identity.

Their identity had been forgotten.  Or even worse, it had been described to them as shameful, something that had to be destroyed. 

And it was hard for some to find a safe space to explore what that identity and history meant in their lives. 

So part of their weeping was about a loss of that identity.

But the other part of their grief came from knowing just how far they had been from keeping God’s laws. 

Suddenly, the rules were laid out for them plain as day, and they didn’t know how they could possibly ever make up for what they had left undone. 

But Ezra and Nehemiah don’t see this as a moment to pile on shame. 

They urge the people to dry their tears, to end their lament, to let go of their guilt and instead to gather in their homes and feast and give thanks.  

Because this is a fresh start!  

As one of my favorite hymns reminds us:

This is a day of new beginnings,

Time to remember and move on,

Time to believe what love is bringing,

Laying to rest the pain that’s gone.

This is their chance to let go of the past and put into practice the word of God that they have rediscovered. 

What has come before this moment is in the past. 

This moment they get a clean slate to start afresh and rededicate themselves to God. 

As they continue to hear God’s word read, they rediscover rituals and traditions.

One of these is Festival of Booths that takes place in the seventh month… and lo and behold, they are in the seventh month!

So they follow all of the instructions and for the first time in generations, they honor this week-long holiday.    

They also hear once again words that shape their identity as a people.

They remember how they were called together out of slavery in Egypt to be a people, set apart and holy.

That meant things like following a certain diet, refraining from intermarriage, and being dedicated to the Sabbath…

None of which were things that they had been practicing.

So, later that month, they join for a fast of repentance and recommitment. 

They rededicate themselves to the law, trusting in the God who has been steadfast and merciful. 

All of the officials, priests, and officers, singers, temple staff, gatekeepers and all of the people who were old enough to understand joined together in a binding oath to follow what they read about in Deuteronomy. 

They recommitted themselves to the law.

Their focus was on crossing every t and dotting every i. 

Keeping the Sabbath.

Refraining from intermarriage. 

Practicing Jubilee.

Offering to support the temple. 

Dedicating their first fruits.

Bringing in the tithe. 

As we think about what it means to rebuild our community, a huge part of what we need to do is remember who we are. 

A key difference between us and the people of Judah at this time is that we have a different frame of reference and a different calling.

We are not called to be a people, set apart and holy, isolated, focused on following every letter of the law.

God knows that we will fail if we try… because the people of God failed over and over again.

Last year, we joined together in UMC 101 and we explored together some of OUR foundational beliefs and practices. 

We remembered things like:

Our focus on grace and faith put into practice.

The call to reach out and share the love of God with all people.

A charge that makes room for difference and invites us to use our brains and celebrates diversity. 

All grounded and centered in the core of Christian tradition… praising the God of all creation who became flesh and lived and died and rose again so that we might truly know life. 

In Jesus Christ we have been redeemed and made right… not because we followed the law, but by his grace, and God continues to empower us by the Holy Spirit. 

And we remembered that our congregation exists for a purpose.. to help people accept and confess Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior and to live their daily lives in light of their relationship with God. 

This is who we are. 

A people who love God and accept the grace God offers… and then live out that love and grace in our daily lives. 

We are called to be a witness… a light and a leaven in society, a reconciler in a world that is divided, to go into places of pain and show Christ’s hope. (Book of Discipline ¶220)

In just a few minutes, we will be invited to the table. 

Just like the people of Judah embraced their traditions and practices, this is a practice that is at the core of our being.

This is a place where we are empowered to start again.

This is a place where we recommit ourselves to God and one another.

This is the place where we find God’s strength and grace for the new beginning that awaits us.

Friends, it doesn’t matter what has come before.

There is no reason to weep or grieve or feel shame for what has been done in the past.

Because here we receive the grace of God that is our new beginning.

So may we, too, come and recommit our hearts to God on this day. 

They Stood Up

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Text: Numbers 27:1-11

Friends, can we all admit that this is a very big book and that 99.9% of us don’t know its stories from cover to cover?

We understand the overall arc of scripture… from creation, through the time in Egypt, the exodus and claiming of the promised land. 

We know the big picture story of how the tribes of Israel became a nation with a king and then fell apart and were carted off into exile. 

And we know about how they returned and how Jesus came to continue the story of God’s redemption and form us into God’s people, sending the Holy Spirit as God’s message exploded across the world. 

But every story?  Every name?

We fail to dig deep into the nitty gritty of the text and skim over some of the most interesting… but maybe also most disturbing… parts of our past. 

What we miss when we do so are the bold and untold stories of ordinary folks who have great lessons to teach us. 

We can’t all preach like Peter or pray like Paul or lead like Solomon… but God can use our voices and our actions to make a difference in this world. 

Over the next five weeks as we wrap up summer, we will be diving into the details of scripture as these little known people come alive for us. 

We start today with the daughters of Zelophehad: Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah.

Their names are so unfamiliar to our tongues today that I find myself stumbling over pronunciation. 

And yet, as Wil Gafney notes in her book, Womanist Midrash: a Reintroduction to the women of the Torah and the Throne, “their story is so important that they are mentioned in five different places… Only the prophets Miriam and Moses are mentioned in more books in the Hebrew Bible.” (page 156)

“They Stood” | Lauren Wright Pittman | A Sanctified Art | sanctifiedart.org

The story of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah is a story about land and inheritance and patriarchy. 

We are introduced to them in the middle of a census that is being taken amongst the Israelites to determine who is available to go to war with Midian as they seek to enter the promised land. 

They come from the line of Jospeh, through his son Manasseh, and their father Zelophehad had no sons.   (Numbers 26: 29-34)

As Gafney notes, Numbers chapter 26 connects the military census with the distribution of land to come.  We are told that the first generation of those who left Egypt will not make it out of the wilderness… only their children and grandchildren will.

But how will this new land that they will take be divided?

The census lists the names of those second-generation families… well, the second-generation families headed by men, who were eligible to go to war.

Gaffney writes: “only males were entitled to inherit the inhabited Canaanite land that God had promised the Israelites under this schema… only patriarchal households counted…” (p. 158)

It was an exclusionary practice that was uncommon among other surrounding cultures, but also meant that men who died during the war and left women as the head of their households would be left out of the allocation. 

As soon as this detailed census and explanation was read to the people, Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah step forward.

This is described as taking place right outside of the meeting tent – where the ark of the covenant was contained. 

In front of Moses, Eleazar the priest, all of the chiefs… the entire community… they challenge the distribution and demand to be given land as well. 

They had no rights.

They had no power.

They had no authority.

But they stand up and make their voices heard.

These five women are of the second generation. 

Their father, Zelophehad, was among those who left Egypt, but he has died along their journey.

No mention is made of their mother, but Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah have no brothers.

AND, as the narrative will tell us later, they are unmarried. 

As they heard the census and the names of all of their cousins and other second generation families that would inherit the promised land, they recognized that the lineage of their father was being excluded. 

As Lauren Wright Pittman writes, “The text says the women came forward; they stood, they spoke, they questioned, and they even demanded.  Any one of these actions alone is difficult for the unseen and the unheard.  All they wanted was the receive the inheritance of their father and to keep his name from fading.  I’m sure the pain of their father’s death was potent, but they needed to be recognized, valued, and seen as human beings in order to survive.” (Faces of our Faith Study Journal)

They demanded that their family be given a share, just as their father’s brothers would be given. 

Now, this is in direct contradiction to the instructions that God had just handed down to Moses in chapter 26.

They were not just challenging their leaders, but the very word of God. 

The entire community had just experienced a devastating plague that was blamed on the men of Israel disobeying God by marrying Moabite and Midianite women, which often led to idolatry and the worship of the gods of these other cultures. 

When an Israelite brought a Midianite wife into the camp, the son of the priest Eleazar, Phineas, killed them both and the plague stopped. 

But, you know, killing the daughter of a leader of neighboring people has consequences and the war with Midian was a direct result of the initial disobedience and then later death.

So… maybe this wasn’t exactly the time to challenge what God has said…

To his credit, Moses does not immediately dismiss their complaint out of hand.

It would have been completely understandable for him to say, “This is the word of the Lord.”

Or, “I’m sorry, but this is the law.”

Instead, he listened.

And instead of rendering judgment himself, Moses took their case to God. 

The Lord replies, “Zelophehad’s daughters are right in what they are saying.  By all means, give them property as an inheritance among their father’s brothers.”

And then, God goes on to change the law so that if a man dies without a son, his daughter would receive the inheritance. 

When we look deeper into the text and the language here, what we find is surprising.

Wil Gaffney notes that God doesn’t just say they were right.  He declares that they are righteous in “a powerful affirmation, without peer in the canon for women or men.” (159)

And if you look at the Hebrew, the words God speaks do not imply a passive response by which these women would now have land.   

It demands corrective action on the part of those who would have denied them their inheritance. 

As Pittman writes in her artist statement of her piece, “They Stood,”:

God heard the voices of these women. “They are right,” God said.  The old law was no longer suitable, so God made a way for change.  Though the laws were probably carved into stone, God shows us in this text that the law is living, breathing, adaptable, and changing.  This text invites us to come forward, to stand, to speak, to question, and to demand change when we experience injustice.

A couple of things to note here.

First, when we believe we are experiencing an injustice or are troubled by a law or a command that we find within scripture, the example of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah tells us that it is a good thing to speak up.

Even if our voice trembles.

Even if we are unsure if anyone will listen.

Even if we have no authority or power. 

Second, this scripture is one of many places where God makes a way for change.

From the Lord’s declaration after the flood that there would never again be a complete destruction of the earth in Genesis…

to the new vision of the clean and the unclean that comes to Peter in Acts…

and this text…

we find examples of how the cries of people and changing circumstances in the world lead God to act and respond in new ways. 

Our God is not distant from us, handing down decrees that are unchanging.

God is with us, listens to us, walks with us, hears our cries, experiences our pain, and knows our hope.

God desires abundant life and chooses to act in new ways to demonstrate love and mercy and to create and recreate possibilities within our midst.

God is in relationship with us… and a relationship is a two-way street. 

But the third lesson here is that it is not our job to declare something is right or wrong, unjust or fair.   

We also learn from the example of Moses, who took it to the Lord. 

So part of our responsibility, either as someone who is experiencing injustice or as someone who is in a position to act, is to notice the places that trouble our souls.

Our job is to listen and to explore and understand the problem.

And part of our responsibility is to pray and search the scriptures and to listen for God.

If the ways of God, the laws of God, the commands of God can change in response to human need and action, then we need to be prepared.

As the Lord cries out in Isaiah 43:19: “See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?” 

Our job is to look, to listen, to pay attention and be ready to see where and how God is acting in this world.

And then… to figure out how to get on board.

I mentioned that the five daughters of Zelophehad show up not once or twice, but five times in the scriptures of the Hebrew Bible.

And part of this reason for their continued presence in the life of the people was that this new command of God was not immediately followed. 

God commands a new law for Moses to implement among the people – that women without brothers shall inherit the land of their father. 

Yet when we get to chapter 36 in Numbers, the war with Midian is over and they are preparing to enter Canaan and as the allocated land is being discussed, the daughters come up again.

Only this time, they are not the active participants in their own story.

Their cousins stand up and speak out and are concerned about the distribution of land to these unmarried women, because when they marry, the land will no longer be a part of the tribe of Manasseh.

Moses… without consulting the Lord… modifies what God says in chapter 27 to declare that they are only allowed an inheritance if they marry within their father’s tribe. 

Mahlah, Tirzah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Noah act according to these new conditions and marry kin within the tribe of Manasseh. 

More time goes on.

The people cross the Jordan River and enter the land of Canaan.

Moses, who we are told disobeyed the Lord but not about what specifically, dies before he is able to enter the promised land and the leadership falls to Joshua.

Here is where the rubber meets the road, as the people now are in possession of the land and parcels are being handed out for each tribe.

When we get to Joshua chapter 17, the land for the tribe of Manasseh is being determined and the text tells us that “an allotment took place for the rest of the clans of Manasseh – for the people of Abiezer, Helek, Asriel, Shechem, Hepher, and Shemida. These were the sons of Manasseh the son of Jospeh, the male descendants by their clans.” (17:2)

Did you hear it? 

There is no mention of the daughters of Zelophehad.

And once again, Mahlan, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah stand up and speak out.

Once again, they approach Eleazar the priest, Joshua the leader, and the other clan chiefs.

Once again, they fight for their inheritance.

“The Lord commanded Moses to give us a legacy along with our male relatives,” they declare. 

Gaffney notes, “They do not say, ‘Moshe failed to obey God and died.’ There is no need.  The implication is clear.” (p. 163).

Joshua acts where Moses did not.

The tribe of Manasseh is granted ten parcels of land, one of which would belong to the daughters of Zelophehad.

And these daughters are later accounted for in the listing of the family lines in the book of Chronicles. 

But that was only possible because of their courage.

Their persistence.

Their willingness to stand up and speak out. 

In our lives today, we might not always have power or authority.

But we do have a voice.

And when we see something that is unjust or wrong, we too can stand up, stand together, and speak out.

We can let the community know about what is going on so that we can seek God’s direction and act. 

And if we do have power and authority, we can choose to listen, to pray, and to respond. 

May the bold and too often untold legacy of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah guide us for the future.  Amen.

Breaking the Rules

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As children, our understanding of right and wrong, good and bad, and the direction of our moral compass is shaped by our parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, teachers, older siblings, friends, and neighbors.
Sometimes, they do this through gentle encouragement. Other times, it is by laying down strict boundaries. In other cases, it is the failure of such people to guide the lives of young people that leaves them lost, swimming without instructions in a sea of temptations.

That doesn’t mean, as young people, that we immediately understand the influence that the people we love have on us.
A few weeks ago, I invited you all to share with me stories of the heroes in your own lives.
One of you wrote to me that you didn’t recognize your hero at first. He was hidden behind a lot of rules and regulations: how to be a gentleman… how to keep your shoes polished… the proper way to do something.

Our friend here in the church wrote that it took nearly twenty years to start seeing past all of those rules to come to understand who their father really was. In the process, he began to understand the life lessons that came along with all of those rules and procedures: lessons of respect, the giving of time together, the ability of something to be transformed. Once understanding really seeped in, the role that hero played in his life stuck with him… and will continue to do so, even though his father is now deceased.

This week, as we explore what makes a hero, Matt Rawle focuses on the story of Spiderman. In many ways, Peter Parker, the teenage boy in the suit, is a lot like our friend here in the congregation. While he had lost his parents, his Aunt Mae and Uncle Ben took him in and raised him and tried to shape his life. It took time for him to understand the lessons that these important adults were teaching.
There is a scene in the 2002 movie, starring Toby Maguire, where Uncle Ben is determined to have a chat with Peter.

However, Peter is too wrapped up in the temptations of his new powers, too focused on winning fights for some money, and too self-centered to listen to the advice of his Uncle in the moment. Only later, after his uncle’s death, do the lessons begin to sink in and shape the moral code of Spiderman.

Biblically speaking, we are shaped and guided by the influence of the saints that have gone before us – the heroes within the scriptures like Abraham, Moses, Isaiah, David, Matthew, Mark, and Paul. Sometimes we learn from the mistakes that they have made. Other times, we are encouraged to follow the rules from God that they have passed down. Still other times, we are encouraged to let their example shape who we are.

At the beginning of this year, I began with a group of friends to read through the bible, chronologically. Our reading plan will take us through every verse in 365 days.

So far, we’ve spent a lot of time in the rules and regulations of the Torah, the law of God passed down through Moses. There are rules about everything – what to eat, how to treat slaves, when to pray, who you can and can’t have sex with. Some of these rules make absolutely no sense to us today… and some would have been quite strange for their day as well.

And that was because God was trying to form and shape a people who would be holy.
Set apart.
Other.
Just like Uncle Ben told Peter that he was becoming the man he would be for the rest of his life, God wanted these people to become the kind of people, holy and set apart, that they would be for the rest of their lives.

God wanted people to take one good look at the Israelites and be able to tell that they belonged to God and lived according to God’s values.

At first, that holiness was shaped by relationship. God was in relationship with the patriarchs of our faith like Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob – speaking to them personally and leading them along the way they should go.
But in order to shape a community, a society, rules were a more effective way to teach these lessons of holiness. Behind each commandment or law, God was forming a people who would honor God, honor creation, and honor one another. It was not the rule that was important… but how the rule would shape our lives.
There comes a time, however, when those same old rules handed down generation after generation start to lose their power.
When we forget the lessons behind the rules and the relationship with the God who gave them to us and we begin to idolize the rules themselves.

I heard a story once about a church that stood up and turned around to face the back doors every time they said the Lord’s Prayer.
A new pastor arrived as was puzzled by this strange practice so she asked why they did so.
No one knew. No one could remember. It was just the rule for how they did it.
A few years later, they were updating the sanctuary. The wallpaper was being removed so they could freshen the space up with some paint. And as they peeled back the wallpaper on that back wall, they discovered the words of the Lord’s Prayer. In year’s past they had been painted there on the back wall. The church must have stood and turned to read them together.
But reason behind the practice had long since faded away. Only the practice remained.

This was the reality that fell upon the people of God as Jesus walked among them. The Pharisees believed that by following the rules of God and the traditions handed down from previous generations that they were being faithful to God.

Whenever they encountered others who broke such laws, they were quick to point out their flaws.
And so in today’s passage from Mark, they criticize Jesus and the disciples for picking heads of wheat, even though it was a Sabbath day on which no work should be performed.

Jesus replies that the law, and the Sabbath, were made for humanity… not the other way around. We were not meant to fit our lives into the boxes of rules written ages ago, but those rules were meant to bring us life and rest and honor and wholeness.
If in this new time and place, if in this particular situation of need, the rule actually limits the ability of God’s people to be set apart or to honor God, one another, or creation… then sometimes those rules need to themselves be set aside.
We can point to heroes in our world like Rosa Parks, Ghandi, and others, who willfully chose to disobey laws in order to help shape our societies into places that were more just, equal, and loving places.

But Jesus also teaches us that sometimes, simply following the rule is not enough.
When Jesus faces temptation in the wilderness, the devil tries to steer him away from his path of ministry by quoting scripture. But Jesus points to other scriptures that better fulfil God’s intent.
As he taught the people in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus also took some of the familiar rules we knew and made them even stronger. In Matthew 5, there are a number of ways in which even the Ten Commandments are reframed –
“you have heard it said to those who lived long ago, ‘Don’t commit murder,’… but I say to you that everyone who is angry with their brother or sister will be in danger of judgment.” (5:21-22)
In these stories of our faith, Jesus is helping us to see that the rules themselves do not determine what is right or what is wrong.
They are not the ends themselves, but a tool which helps to shape who God wants us to become.
Sometimes, to do what is right, means to break the rules and do what others might believe is wrong.
And sometimes, it is to take the rules we know and love and live them out even more deeply.

How are we supposed to know what is right and what is wrong?
How are we supposed to respond when not just biblical laws, but societal laws that form and shape us, no longer support the values that God is trying to shape in us as a people?
The good news is that we do not simply have rules that are handed down, written in stone, that will never change.
No, we have an example to follow.

I tended to be a rule follower as a child, but I can remember a few times when a rule was being enforced but I didn’t understand the purpose or intent behind it.
It especially made me mad when the people who were sharing the rule were not following it themselves.
“Do what I say, and not what I do” was a phrase that frustrated me to no end.
I think that was because I knew even then that the rules themselves are not what make our actions right or wrong, but it is the example and the life we lead as a result of them.
When the people we are supposed to look up to or emulate aren’t following the rules, they lose their meaning.

But we do have an example to follow.
We have a Savior who walked among us and dealt with our temptations.
We follow someone who not only had a relationship with God, but was God, and who lived out God’s values in every step taken upon this earth.
And so while the rules in our lives might guide us, our job is to keep our eyes fixed upon Jesus.
When we are in relationship with Jesus, and allow God’s ways to fill our heart, then every step we take will be holy.

Sermon on the Mount: Jesus’ Version of the Law

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When we head back home to Cedar Rapids, one of the things that I like to do, as long as the weather is warm, is play disc golf at Jones Park.

We always start at tee 15 – in part because the parking is better there on the hilltop pavilion, and there are bathrooms handy if you need them.  And looking out from that hill, you can see the entire park.  The pond, the golf course, the playground and the pool, and just over the tree tops, you can see Mount Trashmore.

Mount Trashmore is the unofficial name of the city’s beloved landfill.  It is 208 feet tall and takes up 65 acres of land.  That is as much space as 50 football fields!

Now, I mention this, because that heap of garbage reminds me of another dump, which Jesus refers to multiple times in the Sermon on the Mount. 

As we heard our gospel reading this morning we caught just a snippet of this section on the law and if we continue for another 28 verses, we hear about how Jesus believes we should treat one another.  He talks about anger, adultery, divorce, promises, revenge and how we should treat our enemies.  And we’ll get there, but first, I think we need to spend a minute with a little four letter world. 

Hell.

This is how we translate a word that shows up three times in Matthew chapter 5 – Ghenna.

Ghenna is actually a place, the Valley of Hinnom, and it was literally a trash dump… it is a valley of garbage… it is a place for filth and waste… a place to burn and destroy the refuse of our lives. This smelly, disgusting, ugly, awful place is what Jesus is pointing to in our passage today.

Let’s forget, for just a moment, that we have typically read the word “hell” here.   Instead, put ourselves in the shoes of the first century Jews who might have been sitting on the hillside listening to Jesus teach. Imagine you can see that valley of garbage, gehenna, somewhere off in the distance… much like I could see Mount Trashmore from the hill top in Jones Park. Maybe it is just the faint smell of burning garbage that lingers on the air. Maybe it is just the rising smoke from the fires. Maybe you can actually see the heaps of trash, even from far off, just outside the gate of Jerusalem.

And as you look out at gehenna, Jesus tells you what it means to be part of the Kingdom of God. 

It takes love.

That, after all, is the summary of the law we find in Deuteronomy and echoed here in Matthew… love God with everything that you are and love your neighbor as yourself.

And we know, somewhere deep inside of us that this is what we should strive for.

We know, that this is how we were made.

And, we know, that this is where we are headed…

This is the Kingdom of God. Love. Trust. Forgiveness. Honesty. Faithfulness.

And from the beginning, there have been some rules, some laws that God has invited the people to follow to embody that Kingdom.  Jesus tells all of those people, that he is not here to do away with those laws, but to show us what it means to live them fully. 

It is all about the Kingdom of Heaven. Kingdom attitudes, Kingdom witness, Kingdom behavior.

And in this sermon, Jesus wants to talk about the trash that gets in the way of us truly living like Kingdom people. He’s talking about the garbage that has to be cleared out of our lives in order for us to be a part of this community of God.

Jesus is inviting us to let go of the things that hold us back from God’s transformative grace and love. Cut it off, throw it out, put it where it belongs… on the trash heap, out with the garbage, never to be seen again.

He is not talking about eternal punishment in some fiery place… but about what cannot, will not, be a part of the kingdom of Heaven.

If we are not honest about our failings and our missteps, if we are unwilling to clean house and transform our lives, then we are throwing ourselves out with the trash.  By refusing to examine our lives, we live out there in the dump all of our own free choosing.

 

You know, we have this image in our minds of what the Kingdom of Heaven should be, and we look around us and we see a lot of signs of brokenness, pain, and waste in our lives.

There is death and murder. There is violence and anger. There is lust and revenge and envy everywhere.

All of those things that can turn our daily lives into a garbage dump.

And right here, in this sermon to the people, Jesus tackles some of the toughest situations we face in our relationships and in the scriptures: murder, adultery, divorce, oaths and promises, revenge…

In each and every single one of these verses, Jesus challenges us to live like Kingdom people.

Not once does he give us an easy out.

Not once does he allow us to justify our actions.

Not once does he say we can ignore the wisdom of earlier days.

No. In every single one of these verses, Jesus takes a simple law and makes it harder.

Don’t just restrain yourself from killing that person… Jesus says – don’t even be mad at them

You’ve been told not to commit adultery, but I say to you – don’t even look at someone who isn’t your spouse with lust.

Divorce has become as simple as writing a letter when the spark has gone – but I say to you unless your spouse has broken the fundamentals of the covenant, and committed adultery, don’t give up on your relationship… and even then give it another try.

Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Don’t make oaths that are more than just yes and no.

Don’t seek your own revenge but love your enemies, pray for those who seek to destroy you. Turn the other cheek.

And he ends this whole section by saying what I think are the hardest two words in all of scripture: Be perfect.

What?! Be perfect? How do we do that? How can we get there?

There are two main theories about what Jesus is trying to do here.

The first, is that Jesus takes the old testament law and turns it into SUPER law… that to be Christian really requires more morality, more legalism, more demands.

The second, is that Jesus makes the law so hard we can’t live up to it. We can’t do it. We are utterly helpless when it comes to the law and therefore, we need Jesus to save us from our own downfall. So, the law convicts us… and then the law ceases to matter because Jesus is here to save us.

I’ve never been a black and white girl. I’m not a fan of either/or choices. So, I want to share with you today a third option… a both/and.

In the sermon on the mount, Jesus pointing to this future Kingdom reality and he’s inviting us to live in that reality now. He knows we are helpless to do it on our own, but he wants us to try anyways.

Be perfect, he says.

My friend Jack works with addicts and one of the things he reminds me often is that the goal of recovery groups is to help you become clean and sober. It is a community of folks who are all seeking the same end goal. Life and life abundant. Perfection. Love.

At the start of the journey, a life of sobriety is almost unimaginable. It isn’t who they are. But they know where they are going. They know who they are seeking to be. And so they try. They hold one another accountable.  They talk about when they get it wrong and they keep going.

Maybe the church needs to be a little bit more like a recovery group. We need to be a group of people, banded together, helping one another get over our addiction to sin and death, and trying to live into the kingdom of God.

And in order to do so, we have to start letting go of some of the garbage in our lives. We have to throw it out… because in the end, it just won’t do in the Kingdom of God.

Jesus calls us in each of these situations to love. Not mushy gushy love – but real, genuine, difficult, honest love. Love that forgives wrongs. Love that seeks peace. Love that refuses to fight back with violence and hatred. Love that is strong enough to overcome.

Is it easy? No.

Will we get it right on the first try? No.

Are we supposed to try anyways? Yes.

Again, and again and again.

We are supposed to try to live our lives here in the Kingdom… and not out on the garbage dump.

Live into the Kingdom of heaven… where love is our first and not our second impulse.

At Conspire worship today, we are going to sing a song during communion called, If We’re Honest.  

And the song reminds us that I’m a mess and so are you… but If we’re honest, it would change our lives.  If we’re honest, it would set us free. If we lay our secrets, our shame, our mistakes, down at the cross then we find mercy waiting for us. 

Today, friends,  I invite you to throw your past and your mistakes and the failings of yesterday on the trash heap.  Let go of them. 

And let the people who surround you in this place, this morning, help you live into the Kingdom of God we all seek.

J&MES: Mercy & Judgment

I love to play games. Board games, video games, card games…

One of my favorite ways to spend time with family is to grab a deck of cards and play all evening long.

Pinochle and 500 in particular. In both, there is some luck involved in the hand you are dealt, but also a lot of strategy during the card play. The games involve bidding, communication with your partner, and risk taking. Because you never know when your cards might get trumped.

You see, in both games, there is a trump suit. And that means that whoever wins the bid gets to pick the suit… whether diamonds, hearts, clubs, or spades… that will automatically win anytime they are played.

No matter how high of a card you play… a trump card can beat it.

In our life of faith, there are a lot of trump cards we can play. Actions we take or words we say that stop a conversation in its tracks or change the trajectory of a person’s action.

As James writes to the people of God, he is basically telling them that they have two kinds of trump cards to choose from: Mercy & Judgment.

The question is… which is more faithful? And which are YOU going to play?

 

Each of us were handed a card as we walked in this morning. For the purposes of our message this morning, I want you to ignore whatever the number or suit is of the card you were handed and instead I want you to pick your own ranking.

I want you to think about the worst thing you have ever done in your life. The biggest sin you have committed. That one that stays with you. Maybe, it is the one others keep reminding you about. Maybe, the one no one else even knows about.

How would you rank that sin?

Is it a four of stealing?

Is it a jack of adultery?

Is it an ace of lies?

No matter how we have ranked our sin, no matter what suit it is, God has a word for us today.

Because no matter how high of a card you have or you play… a trump card can beat it.

And in our life of faith, we can choose between two suits of trump: Mercy & Judgment.

 

First, let’s look at what it would mean to play the trump card of judgment.

When you choose judgment as your trump card, then when you see sin in the world, you choose to name it. You choose to treat others based upon their obedience to the Law of God, because you are playing by the rule of Law.

And that means that every one of the Ten Commandments Moses chiseled into the stone tables, every one of the 613 laws of the Old Testament, every single rule of the scriptures applies.

Not just for other people, who you are judging…. But for yourself, too!

This is the same message Paul shares with the Roman community. In chapter 2 of his letter to the Romans, he speaks about the difference between living under the law and living under grace… and specifically is speaking to a Jewish community. “Those who have sinned under the Law will be judged by the Law… If you call yourself a Jew; if you rely on the law…. Then why don’t you who are teaching others teach yourself.” (Romans 2: 12, 17, 21)

If you choose to judge others by the Law, you are choosing to live under the Law. And that means all the Law applies to you.

One of the big problems that James sees with this is that Judgment is often arbitrary.

We pick and choose which laws we are going to judge by.

As The Message translation of James 2:1 puts it: “My dear friends, don’t let public opinion influence how you live out our glorious, Christ-originated faith.”

The laws we tend to judge by ARE influenced by the changing tides of culture. We can see how the important sins of the day have changed through time… whether we are focusing on slavery, prohibition, child labor, sexuality, abortion… some sins get elevated to the top and are THE standard by which we judge other people.

If we go back to the game of cards… they are the ones that we think are the Aces, Kings and Queens of sin.

But as James writes, “you can’t pick and choose in these things.”

If you are going to live under the law, you have to live under the ENTIRE law. And Paul says it is impossible: “All have sinned and fall short of God’s glory.” (Romans 2:23)

But we keep trying to play the trump cards of judgment, and we point out to others the exact rank and suit of their cards.

The problem is, we tend to use our life as the measuring stick, rather than the law. We pick out their suits by the Laws we choose to follow and rank them based on our own obedience, success, and failures. Who is rich and who is poor… who is deserving and undeserving… all of these distinctions depend on where we stand and what we believe about ourselves…. Not how God sees them or us.

And God sees all sin equally. It doesn’t matter if you are a serial killer or committed adultery or if you stole a candy bar when you were seven… we are all sinners.

Every single sin, no matter how we rank them… whether it is an ace or a three… they are equal. They all get trumped by judgment.

 

The other option is to choose mercy as your trump card. When you do so, it is grace that sets the rules of the game.

A very simple definition of mercy is to give someone something they do not deserve.

And as we just heard, none of us deserve grace. “All have sinned and fall short of God’s glory,” Paul writes… and then continues, “but all are treated as righteous freely by his grace.” (Romans 3:23-24)

The Law of God helps us to see how far away from God’s intentions we have fallen, but it is only the Grace of God that gives us the freedom to get back up and reclaim who we were truly meant to be.

On Tuesday of this week, Pastor Todd and I were in Ames to hear a presentation from Bishop Ken Carter who presides over the Florida Annual Conference.

First and foremost, Bishop Carter reminded us that we were all made in the image of God. Before the fall, before sin entered the world, we were made in God’s image.

And in our tradition, we believe that no sin, no matter how big, can ever take that image of God away from us. It is there… deep within our lives.

Every person has it… whether they are aces by the world’s standards or fours and fives.

And God’s grace enters our lives while we are still sinners and sets us free.

In our tradition, we talk about the justifying grace that saves us, but again, grace has nothing to do with anything we have done, with our gifts or our merits…. It is simply our acceptance of the fact that God has already accepted us.

It is our decision to stop playing by the rules of Law and to start living by the rule of grace.

Or as James puts it, “talk and act like a person expecting to be judged by the Rule that sets us free.” (2:12)

When we live by the rules of grace and play the trump card of mercy, then again, we have to treat every person in this world the same. No kings or threes here, either.

And the trump of mercy allows us to see others not as the worst thing they have ever done, but instead to see the image of God in their lives.

 

Bishop Carter also shared with us this past week a really concrete picture of the difference between playing the trump of judgment and playing the trump of mercy.

He pointed to two well-know, important people of faith: Pope Benedict and Pope Francis.

Both of them are holy men. They have both dedicated their lives to God’s word.

Yet, their words of response to one of the big “sin questions” of our time are striking.

In regards to homosexuality, Pope Benedict said: “although the particular inclination of the homosexual person is not a sin, it is a more or less strong tendency ordered to an intrinsic moral evil.”

Pope Francis: “Who am I to judge?”

The world saw Pope Benedict as a continuation of a church that was declining in relevancy, pointing out the sins of the world and judging without paying attention to its own sins.

But we have seen the world respond in a different way to Pope Francis, and his focus on mercy has everything to do with it.

He washed the feet of prisoners on Good Friday. He lives a life of humility. He has declared a season of mercy and forgiveness of those who have had abortions. He is calling the church to treat every single person with mercy, love, and grace.

He has not abandoned the churches official positions on any of these controversial subjects, but he has let go of the trump card of judgment. He refuses to play it.

Bishop Carter pointed out that the more we approach holiness, the more humility we should have and the more we leave judgment in the hands of Jesus.

And what we see is that others’ lives are transformed not by playing a trump card of judgment and pointing out their sins.

No, transformation happens in the presence of holiness and grace and love… when the trump card of mercy wipes away whatever suit or rank has defined us and allows us to remember the image of God that is in our lives.

 

Mercy or Judgment?

 

James is pretty clear… Mercy trumps everything…. Even Judgment.

Finding Faith at the Lunch Table

If I think back to the first moment when faith sunk in deep into my life, it would be sitting around a lunch table at Simpson College. 

I wasn’t actually a college student then, but a sophomore in high school participating in our Youth Annual Conference.  It was hosted there at the college every year and it was an opportunity for youth leadership to be developed, new friendships to be made, and for us to explore faith in a totally different way.

I had been floating around the periphery of church for a while.  I went to Sunday School a few times as a youngster.  We went on Christmas Eve with my grandparents.  I had been to funerals and weddings.  And I had a number of friends who were Christian and often invited me along to church.  But their experiences of faith were not my own.  I wanted to know more about Jesus, but I never quite felt like I totally fit in with their traditions.  Looking back, they were more conservative and evangelical than where I eventually ended up, so perhaps early on I was sensing that wasn’t where I belonged. 

I remember vividly in the fall of my sophomore year, however, that my mom realized I had not yet been confirmed and we started going to church as a family.  Both sides of our family had been United Methodist, so we went to the biggest church we could find nearby.  And I was instantly hooked.  I joined the youth choir and the youth bells.  I started confirmation.  I went to youth group.  Because it was a large church, my social circle instantly expanded with students from other area high schools all becoming my new best friends.  It was a really amazing time. 

And that spring, we went to Youth Annual Conference.  We were a small group, even though it was a large church – just my mom; the youth pastor, Todd; another student and myself.  It was my first experience of holy conferencing and resolutions and voting on legistation.  It was my first experience of a praise band.  It was my first chance to really understand what it might mean to be United Methodist.

But it was a conversation around the lunch table that really got me hooked.  Others had been debating about whether or not we should listen to pop music, but Todd had just been rapping in the lunch line the whole “Fresh Prince of Bel Aire” song.  And when he finally joined in the conversation, he talked about how he had used a Judas Priest song in youth group one night.  This was many years ago, but I remember he talked about redeeming rather than rejecting culture.  He talked about asking better questions in the face of music and narratives and people we don’t on the surface agree with, finding out what makes them tick and what they are trying to say, so we can speak with them. And I knew, right then, that I could claim that kind of faith. 

In his book, Falling Upward, Richard Rohr talks about the two halves of our lives.  The time we spend creating the container for our lives (identity, security, relationships) and then the time we spend living in and discovering the life we have built for ourselves.  He writes that a type of spiritual awakening or falling apart happens in between the two of them…. when we realize we can’t just keep going on and building that container for ever, we actually have to start exploring what it means to live in this life we have created.

In the life of faith, one way this can be described is the move from law to grace.  In the first half of our lives, we need the rules of faith: don’t kill, love God, pray this way.  Rules lay the foundations… but the law itself is not the end.  Rohr quotes the Dalai Lama here: “Learn and obey the rules very well, so you will know how to break them properly.” Grace is helping the man get his oxen out of a hole on the sabbath.  Grace is releasing the adulteress and telling her to go and sin no more.  Grace is meeting people out of love rather than judgment. 

Because I came to my faith a little bit later in life, my religious experience was never steeped in law and judgment language.  That being said, I was one of those “good girls” who tried to always follow the rules.  I got straight A’s.  I never drank in high school, or smoked, or experimented in any way. I had enough formation in rule following in other aspects of my life.

In fact, I think in many ways, the church I discovered in places like that lunch table helped to break down and expand that initial container I had built for myself.  My experiences of Jesus and religion were the catalyst for some big changes in my life.  I moved from a desire to be a scientist/meterologist to a religion major.  I found myself moving towards people who were all about breaking the rules…. in both healthy and not so healthy ways.  But because my initial experiences of church were fairly traditional, I have maintained an ability to see and converse with all sorts of different faith languages. We don’t discard the containers we build in the first half, Rohr says, but they become the stuff we build from.

I am living in a very different sort of faith life than I ever imagined was possible sixteen years ago, when I sat down at that lunch table.  I have been an advocate and fundraiser for global health.  I have ministered in cities and small towns.  I’m about to become the senior pastor of a mid-sized church in the city. But as I continue to live into my relationship with God, the desire to get to know and understand someone or something where it is and start from there is what continues to drive me.

The Side of the Road

I had an experience last week that deeply shook me.

My dad asked me to come help him move farm equipment as he moved from one set of fields to another for harvest.  In essence, I was a chauffeur and would follow the tractor or combine and then take him back to the farm to pick up another.

gravel roadAs we came around a corner on the quiet gravel road, we discovered a person lying on the edge of the road in the ditch.

It all happened so fast.  We stopped the car and leapt out and into action.  911 was dialed.  We assisted the person the best we could – the wind whipping around us, the cold seeping in, the reality that we really had no unique skills to care for someone in a medical emergency causing anxiety and yet we were there and help was on its way.

After the emergency responders arrived and the statements had been made, and we breathed a little bit deeper, my dad and I made our way back to my car… which I then discovered was still running.  We had been so quick to rush into helping, I forgot to turn off the car.

I remember later that day, after I had time to process what had happened, feeling incredibly angry.  Someone had mentioned in passing the idea of being a “Good Samaritan” and all I could think about was how I didn’t have a choice.  Of course we were going to stop.  Anyone who could have passed by and kept going… well, that’s where the anger came in. Having experienced a person in need on the side of the road, I cannot understand how a pastor or religious leader could have crossed to the other side and not stopped to help.

Luke 10: 25 A legal expert stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to gain eternal life?”

26 Jesus replied, “What is written in the Law? How do you interpret it?”

27 He responded, “You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.”[a]

28 Jesus said to him, “You have answered correctly. Do this and you will live.”

29 But the legal expert wanted to prove that he was right, so he said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

30 Jesus replied, “A man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho. He encountered thieves, who stripped him naked, beat him up, and left him near death. 31  Now it just so happened that a priest was also going down the same road. When he saw the injured man, he crossed over to the other side of the road and went on his way. 32  Likewise, a Levite came by that spot, saw the injured man, and crossed over to the other side of the road and went on his way. 33  A Samaritan, who was on a journey, came to where the man was. But when he saw him, he was moved with compassion.34  The Samaritan went to him and bandaged his wounds, tending them with oil and wine. Then he placed the wounded man on his own donkey, took him to an inn, and took care of him. 35  The next day, he took two full days’ worth of wages and gave them to the innkeeper. He said, ‘Take care of him, and when I return, I will pay you back for any additional costs.’ 36  What do you think? Which one of these three was a neighbor to the man who encountered thieves?”

37 Then the legal expert said, “The one who demonstrated mercy toward him.”

Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

Part of me wants to take that priest and Levite by the shoulders and look straight into their eyes and demand to know why on earth they refused to stop.  The scripture doesn’t tell us.  We make plenty of excuses for them… they were on their way to worship, they were maintaining ritual purity, the law prevented them from helping. But to see a person dying on the side of the road and to NOT stop…  There is no excuse.

Lately, instead of a person in need on the side of the road, I’ve been witnessing a church that is not quite sure what part of the road we are on. In the midst of the work of ministry and church we are also distracted and focused on statements and trials regarding pastors who performed same-sex marriage ceremonies.

As I read the testimony of Tim, whose father, Frank, was found guilty this week for officiating his wedding, I couldn’t help but think about the injured man on the side of the road.  Too often, the church has played the roles of the thieves in this story – battering and bruising our LGBT brothers and sisters by telling them they have no place in the church and leaving them on the side of the road… without hope, grace, or mercy.

I’ve listened to voices on all side of the arguments about homosexuality and the United Methodist Church and I try to be someone who does more listening than talking.  I try to hear the good and find common ground.  And the deep nugget of difference lies in the fact that one side believes that to be an LGBT person is to be who God has created them to be and the other side believes that six verses of scripture demonstrate that the actions of LGBT persons are sinful and therefore incompatible with Christian faith.  One side is talking about conscious, willful decisions to sin that requires us as people of faith to hold one another accountable… but the other side is talking about the core of a person’s identity that includes gender and sexual orientation and ethnicity. Because it appears as if we are talking about two very different things the conversation and conferencing is immensely difficult.  We are all people of faith but right now we are stuck.

I know the deep faithfulness of persons who are trying to uphold the ideals of Christian teaching and I do believe we need to hold one another accountable in love and grace for our sins.  But today, I have to speak from the experiences in my life and prayerful nights and studying of scripture and admit I am faithfully standing on the other side of the argument.  I believe in many of those passages we are taking the words of God out of context; the scripture is actually talking about pedarasty or ritual sex and not LGBT relationships. In others, the passages are simply wrong for our time; just as we have come to understand scriptures on slavery and the prohibition of female pastors and divorce differently in a different time, through the Holy Spirit, God is leading us to new understandings of what it means to be faithful people today. My friends and family who are gay and lesbian and bi and trans do not choose their reality.  They are some of the most faithful and compassionate and God-fearing people I know.  And as they work out their own salvation with fear and trembling and experience attacks that shoot to the very core of their identity… it does harm.  Tim Schaefer is simply one voice among many who have been turned away at one point or another and who felt like his very existence was “incompatible.”

 Part of who I was, my sexual orientation, was broken and evil, according to them. I felt incredible shame.

Every night I prayed, begging God to make me normal. I pleaded with God to fix me. Many nights I cried myself to sleep. I was in the 10th grade when I came to the realization that my attraction to men was not going to change. I began to think that the only way to avoid bringing shame to my family and community was to take my own life.

But thank God, Tim’s family supported him.  Thank God there are churches who surround LGBT brothers and sisters (and all people) with love and compassion.  Who allow God to speak through them.  Who baptize their children and who hold their hands as they watch loved ones pass.  Who serve them communion and welcome them into the church and allow the gifts God has blessed them with to bear fruit in the kingdom of God.  Thank God there are people who have stopped on the side of the road to be engaged in acts of ministry and care and love.

These past few weeks, the core of what we are debating in official circles and in church trials is whether we are going to be a church that stops by the side of the road to do the work of Jesus… the work of the gospel and the core of the Law… or if we are going to hold fast to tradition and rules and step over to the other side of that road and keep going.  If we are going to focus on “upholding the Book of Discipline in its entirety” or if we are going to get about the ministry of Jesus in his world.

Do you know what I hear in Luke 10?  That we are called to go out into a harvest that is “bigger than you can imagine.”  That we are to locate ourselves among the people God has led us to – healing the sick and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom.  That we are to love and serve God with all of our heart, being, strength and mind.  That we are to love our neighbors as ourselves.  That the law demands mercy.  That it is more important to sit at the feet of Jesus than to do the upkeep of the house.  I firmly believe these things we can all agree on – no matter what side of this particular division… and that is what gives me hope. 

I would be lying if I didn’t say I’m traditionally a rule follower.  I love our church.  I love our connection.  I love our accountability.  I even love our Discipline.  But I have been called to love and serve God and God’s people and sometimes I just want to weep at how we set up barriers to the kingdom.

Christ have mercy, for the times we have been so distracted by rearranging the chairs that we forgot you were among us.

Lord have mercy, for costly trials that distract all of us from the work of saving the lost and hurting in our very midst.

Christ have mercy, for the times we have focused on following the letter of the law and didn’t help you lying on the side of the road. 

Loving Your Neighbor…Now


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(Community Worship in the Park)

It is so beautiful out, and all of you look so wonderful gathered here in community.

Although it takes some work to get this service together, this community worship in the park is one of my favorite services of the year.

Just look around – these are our friends and family and neighbors and brothers and sisters in Christ!
And getting together like this, without caring about what church we belong to, without worrying about who is welcome and who isn’t… well, this is an awful lot of what I think the holy banquet of God will be like on Resurrection Day.
On that great gettin’ up morning, we will just pull up a chair and find our place around the table.
Soon and very soon, we’ll be in the presence of the King, in the place of no more dying and no more crying.
Heavenly music will ring out, the sounds of violence will cease, tears will be wiped from every face, the wolf will dwell with the lamb, enemies will learn to love, and peace shall be fulfilled.
All of those images take us to the city of God, the new creation, the heaven that awaits us. We read about them in scriptures, we sing about them in hymns, our hearts are full of hopes and dreams about that reality.
And this community gathered to worship our Lord and to share around his table this morning is a glimpse of that future. It is like the taste that you sneak from the pot simmering on the stove an hour before dinner is ready.
As Paul reminds us here in chapter 13… our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed. The night is nearly over; the day is almost here.

That heavenly reality is just. Around. The. corner…

So I want you to close your eyes for a moment.

Imagine walking around through the City of God.

How will you greet your neighbors?

How will you treat the people that on earth were your enemies?

Do you hear anger and shouting? Or joy and laughter?

Ae you spending your days trying to get what is yours? Or sharing in the abundant gifts of God?

In everything that we do, here on earth today, we should live and love in anticipation of this reality.

We are called to live as if that Kingdom of God in which Jesus reigns IS the reality we find ourselves in.

As we open our eyes, yes, we find ourselves back in Marengo, Iowa. We find ourselves in the twenty-first century. We find ourselves in a world that is full of anger and violence, a culture that glorifies partying and licentiousness, a society that says “me-first, and screw the rest.”

But that doesn’t mean that we have to join them.

No, as Christians, we are called to a better way.

We are children of God.

And we are called to love.

But what do we mean by love? It is such a commonly used word that it has lost almost all significance for the Christian faith.

When Paul uses the word love here in Romans, he uses the greek word: agape. Agape is completely self-less love. It is love directed towards others. It has no pre-requisites, no conditions. Agape love doesn’t depend upon any loveable qualities the person you are loving possesses. It is love that expects nothing back in return.

Love is not a feeling.

Love is a choice.

Love is an action. Love is what we do… or do not do… to and for other people.

And Paul reminds us that all of those commandments – like don’t commit adultery, and don’t steal, and don’t be jealous of your neighbors possessions – all of them can be summed up with five words: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”
Love is what we were created to do. All of the law, all of those commands, are just put in place to help us remember – Oh, yeah, I’m supposed to love you.

The big question is… Why? Why should I love my neighbor when he borrowed my lawnmower last month and broke it? Why should I love that person who always cuts me off as I drive to work? Why should I have any love towards people who seek to do harm to me and my loved ones? Why should I love someone who has done damage beyond repair in my life?

It is a good question.

And Paul responds with one word: salvation.

You have been saved.

Which means the Lord of the Universe took one good look at you – with all of your faults and sins and mistakes and imperfections – and said, “I love you anyways.”

That holy, unconditional act of love that we call the cross, was freely given to anyone who would receive it. Whether we deserved it or not.

We love… because he first loved us.

Our love is an outpouring of the love that we ourselves have received in our salvation.

AND… as Paul reminds us, the fulfillment of that salvation is near. The time is coming when the night will end and the day will dawn. This world will pass away and the reign of Christ will come.

That holy, awesome, heavenly reality that we closed our eyes and imagined is just around the corner.

So why would we want to live in darkness? Why would we ever want to sink down to the ways of this world when right now, we can live in the light.

Right now, we can join together with other believers.

Right now, we can sing the heavenly songs.

Right now, we can laugh together instead of bicker.

Right now, we can seek peace with our enemies.

Right now, we can wipe tears from the eyes of the hurting and the grieving.

Right now, we can care for the sick and feed the hungry and clothe the naked.
Right now, we can love.
As The Message translates our final verse for this morning… get out of bed and get dressed! Don’t loiter and linger, waiting until the very last minute. Dress yourselves in Christ, and be up and about!
Right now, put on Jesus Christ.
That means that we spend time each morning in prayer – asking for God to guide us in our actions.
It means that we spend time in the scriptures – seeking wisdom for our daily lives.
It means that we break bread with fellow believers in order to remember the unconditional love of Jesus Christ in our lives.

It means that we don’t just wear a cross or wear a t-shirt that says we are Christian, or wear a bracelet that proclaims our faith – but we actually ask ourselves, “What would Jesus do?” in the situations of our day… and then we do it.

When we put on Christ, when we intentionally “wear” Jesus Christ throughout our day, people can see it.

We become light, shining out in the darkness, reminding people that a new day is coming.

We are the people of God, gathered together in this public place this morning, to proclaim that Jesus Christ is Lord and that we want to follow him.

So when you leave this place… will you slip back into the darkness and go back to the ways of this world,
Or will you love your neighbors, like Jesus loved you, and will you be his witness?