Mary – Salvaged Faith

From Terror to Awe

Posted on December 4, 2022Leave a comment

Text: Luke 1:26-38, Isaiah 11:1-10

This morning, we find ourselves in the second Sunday of Advent… this season of waiting for the coming of Christ.

This Christmas story is so familiar and comfortable, we could curl up in it like a blanket.

We are ready for the heavenly choirs of angels mingling with the smelly shepherds in the field, for the time when wise men led by celestial signs witness the fragility of an infant of a manger.

It is a season of holy anticipation – not for experiences beyond this world – but ones that are embodied in things that we can touch and feel, live and breathe.

We are ready for God to come and be with us!

This morning, we hear again the story of the annunciation – the announcement! – from Luke’s gospel.

The angel Gabriel appears to Mary.

The angel proclaims that Mary is favored in God’s eyes – blessed among all women – for she will bear a child who will be called the Son of God.

Mary asks but one question: How will this happen?

After a brief and yet wholly inadequate explanation, she responds:

“Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

I first heard this story as a child and so the image seared in my mind of Mary is of a wise and beautiful woman, full of the grace of God, who was ready for whatever came her way.

She always seemed so much older than me, but truth be told, she was probably only sixteen or seventeen years old at the beginning of this story.

This young woman was living in a world of prearranged marriages and had likely been promised to her husband-to-be, Joseph, for many years.

It was a world where a woman’s only education would have been in the home.

It was a world of Jewish faithful living under a Roman occupation, a time of darkness and poverty, disappointment and despair.

And yet, she found the courage to say yes.

Because of the nature of the season, often we hear the annunciation on Sunday, and just a few days or weeks later we have a beautiful, bouncing, baby boy in a manger.

There are so many details we skip over… in part because we don’t know what happened.

The scriptures leave us to fill in the blanks.

Or as AJ Levine reminds us in her book, Light of the World, “Matthew and Luke are not writing for children… nor are they writing newspaper reports striving for historical accuracy. [They] are designed less to ‘record what happened’ than to set the scene: to explain to readers removed from that time and place what the birth of Jesus signifies.” (p. 11-12)

There are truths in this story that are more important than the details.

Truths we have handed down from generation to generation.

Last week, we heard the record of ancestry of Jesus Christ from Matthew’s perspective.

Matthew traces a Jewish history of Jesus from Abraham, to David, through Exile and to the father of Mary.

He shows the arc of the promises of the Jewish story and how Jesus is fulfilling them.

Luke is telling a different sort of story.

In the first verse of our reading for this morning, he notes that an angel appears to a virgin, engaged to Joseph, who was a descendent of David’s house. Her name was Mary.

Her name means Bitter Tears, but it also calls us to remember the “Mary’s” who would have been in her spiritual ancestry… like Miriam, the sister of Moses.

Miriam who rescued her brother from certain death, helped to lead the people out of Egypt, and was later known as a poet and a prophet.

The focus here is not just on the lineage from the house of David.

It is on the woman.

One woman.

And the decision that is before her.

But there is more to this one verse.

We often read it out of context, but this angel, Gabriel, is the same who showed up to announce the birth of John to Zechariah and Elizabeth… we heard a piece of that story earlier in November.

He offers a warm and joyful greeting, but you have to remember, this is not just a friendly neighbor stopping over.

This is an angel of the Lord.

When a messenger of God shows up in scripture, there is always a catch, as Levine describes it.

You are expected to give a response.

Our minds are taken to Abraham leaving behind everything he knows and moving to Canaan, or Moses leaving his quiet shepherd life to confront Pharoah.

When an angel of the Lord shows up, your life changes.

Mary’s response to these words is understandable.

She is filled with confusion and terror.

Everything that she has known in her quiet life in the small, quiet village of Nazareth is about to change.

Who will she become?

Where will she be asked to go?

What will she be asked to leave behind?

We all carry with us fears of the unknown, fears of standing out, fear of loss, fear of failure…

And… she doesn’t even know about the baby yet!

Gabriel sees the fear flicker in her eyes and reassures her even while sharing the news.

“Do not be afraid.”

These words come to us in the scriptures 365 times.

One for every day of the year.

“Do not be afraid.”

Dr. Christine J. Hong writes about how these words don’t actually make us less afraid.

“Every day, people are faced with untold grief and pain, and the gospel, or the good news, is not enough to take that pain and fear away. Hope sounds hollow to those who are enduring the wretched parts of life… courage rises despite our fear, not in its absence.” (A Sanctified Art Sermon Planning Guide)

And I think courage rises out of our fear when we know that we are not alone.

When we can trust that we will be given what we need to move forward.

As the angel Gabriel speaks, “Do not be afraid,” Mary is also given a glimpse of the future that awaits her.

She will have a child.

Not just any child, but the Son of God, who will inherit David’s throne, and reign over an eternal kingdom.

In other words… everything that they have been waiting for will come to pass.

And that can be scary.

And it will take acts of courage in order to bring it into being.

So Mary has a very important question to ask.

“How?”

She isn’t focused on the whole eternal reign of David’s kingdom piece… but wants to know what is going to happen to her own body.

As Wil Gafney notes, “Before Mary said, ‘yes,’ she said, ‘wait a minute, explain this to me.’”

“In a world which did not necessarily recognize her sole ownership of her body… this very young woman had the dignity, courage, and temerity to question a messenger of the Living God about what would happen to her body before giving her consent.”

Gabriel’s answer is less about biology or the mechanics, and more about a spiritual reality.

It is about the presence of God with us.

It is about the action of the Holy Spirit – a core theme in the gospel of Luke.

It is about impossibilities becoming real – evidenced by the pregnancy of her very old cousin, Elizabeth.

It is about a kingdom of oppression being taken over by a kingdom of love.

When we find the word “fear” in our modern translations of scripture, it can come from two very different root words.

Here, in Luke, we find the Greek word, phobos, from which we get the idea of phobias today.

Fear stops us in our tracks, holds us back, and can be destructive.

But we are also told to fear God in other places in scripture.

In Isaiah 11, we are reminded of this shoot growing from the stump of Jesse… a symbol of the heir of David’s Kingdom.

The Spirit of God will rest on him… a spirit of knowledge and fear of the Lord and he will delight in fearing the Lord.

The Hebrew word here is, yirah, and it implies a sense of reverence or awe.

I think part of what happens in this moment, and in the angel’s answer to her question is that Mary moves from terror to awe.

She moves from a fear of the unknown to a sense of awe about the impossible becoming possible.

In her memoir, This Here Flesh, Cole Arthur Riley writes, “I believe fear has the holy potential to draw out awe in us. To lead us into deeper patterns of protection and trust. To mold us into people engaged in the unknown, capable of making mystery of it instead of terror.” (p. 86)

As Isaiah tells it, and the hymn “O Come O Come Emmanuel” reminds us, God will come to be with us.

Christine Hong writes – “God’s spirit will intervene, leading to a world of righteousness and peace. Prey will no longer fear their predators. The vulnerable will be protected. All of creation will be filled with the wisdom of God.”

You see, God enters our fears.

God enters our struggle.

God enters our grief and pain.

It doesn’t always go away… but God is with us in the midst of it.

And in that presence, our fear is transformed.

We find the courage to say, “yes.”

We find the ability to say, “Here I am.”

We are given what we need in order to move past our apprehension and accept God’s invitation.

Two thousand some years ago, a young woman, a girl really, said “yes” to God’s invitation – and just look at how the world has changed.

It is how God has always worked.

From the very beginning, ordinary nobodies who hesitantly said “yes” to God were transformed by the spirit of God.

From the nomad Abram, to the murderer Moses, and shepherd boy David.

Each of them, in their own way, said “let it be with me according to your word.”

They opened themselves up to God’s will in their lives, despite their fears.

They answered the call and tried to live obediently.

And God accomplished amazing things through them.

Does that mean it was easy?

Did they suddenly face straight paths with no obstacles?

Of course not.

Mary could not know the course her life would take.

She would have to struggle to protect her child by fleeing to Egypt.

She would live to see her son crucified by the Romans.

Still fearing the unknown, she said, “let it be with me according to your word.”

The Word came and lived among us.

God took on flesh – God worked through human lives, and God’s will was embodied in the small “yeses” of many insignificant people.

And the world was changed.

Each of us have fears in our own hearts.

But God shows up in the midst of those fears and invites us to be transformed.

We find the ability to say yes, because we know the stories of these faithful ancestors who said yes.

But we also find the ability to say yes, because we hold onto beautiful impossibilities and the promises of what God’s love means in our lives.

In the midst of our grief and struggle and of all that is unknown, we know who holds the end of our story.

We stand in awe and reverence of what we know we are working towards:

A world where righteousness and equity reign.

A world where the wolf and the lamb sleep in peace.

A world in which we are led by a little child.

The fears of my heart cannot be quieted by anything I have at my disposal in this world.

But even in those fears, I need the Holy Spirit to do something new in our lives.

To do something new in our community and our world.

It is terrifying to think about what that might mean.

Because God doesn’t want to change the world without us.

And that means letting the Spirit of God dwell in my heart.

Not just on Sunday mornings, but every day, every moment.

Because if I… if you… if we really said yes, then everything would change.

That’s the point, isn’t it?

We don’t say yes because we are afraid of the risks.

We are afraid the path will be hard.

We are afraid to leave behind what we know.

And it will be.

And that is all hard.

But we don’t do it alone.

The angel Gabriel whispered to Mary, “Do not be afraid.”

If we say yes, God will be with us.

If we say yes, God will give us everything we need.

If we say yes, and face our fears, we might just see them transformed into the impossible.

May it be so.

No Christmas without Consent and Commitment

Posted on December 27, 2020Leave a comment

One Christmas, when my niece was about six years old, I carefully wrapped up a gently loved American Girls doll and accessories that had belonged to a dear friend of mine.
When Cami unwrapped that gift, she literally burst into tears.
“I’ve wanted one of these for my whole life!” she cried out between sobs!

Have you ever waited your entire life for something?
Have you ever been so moved by the experience that it overwhelmed you? Overpowered you? Changed everything about you?
The gospel of Luke tells us about a particular man who had been waiting his whole life for the birth of God’s savior… a man named Simeon.

While the Advent journey takes us through an emotional rollercoaster of joy, fear, humility, and anticipation, there is no other emotion to guide the days after Christmas than pure celebration. Each of the readings assigned for this Sunday call us to take a deep breath of relief, to look around at the beauty of what God has done, and to simply enjoy it.
The gospel of Luke tells us about a particular man who had been waiting his whole life for the birth of God’s savior… a man named Simeon.
Simeon was a man filled with the Holy Spirit, and long ago a promise was made to him that he would not see death until the Messiah had come.
Most people were looking for a leader to rise above the people – a powerful and spiritual figure.
But when this infant child crossed his path, Simeon knew that the promise had been fulfilled.
In this painting by Ron DiCianni, you can sense that overwhelming, outpouring of relief and gratitude and praise as he holds this tiny, precious child.
You see, Simeon understood that this child would grow to become not just a light of revelation to his Jewish brothers and sisters, but would be the light of salvation to all the world.
This man had given his whole life to God and in this moment, he understood what it was all for.
But there was something more.
The Holy Spirit helped him to understand that this path to salvation would be a heart-breaking journey for Mary and Joseph.
“This boy is assigned to be the cause of the falling and rising of many in Israel and to be a sign that generates opposition… a sword will pierce your innermost being too.”

Throughout Advent, we have heard the stories of the women who were part of the genealogy of Jesus… but there is one remaining.
The angel Gabriel appeared before a young woman named Mary.
She is proclaimed to be favored in God’s eyes, blessed among all women, for she will bear a child who will be called the Son of God.
I have always considered being found favored in God’s eyes to nothing but joy, but as this young woman sat there, wide awake, talking with a messenger from God, I wonder what was going through her mind.
Now that we have read through some of these ancestral stories over Advent, I find that God’s favor isn’t always filled with abundance.
As Helen Pearson ponders, “Maybe she imagined what Sarah, pregnant at ninety because God favored her, must have experienced. She might have recalled Abraham, favored by God yet commanded to sacrifice his only son… Perhaps she remembered Joseph, the favored one, sold into slavery by his brothers… Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba found favor with God, but they suffered betrayal deaths, scandals, and isolation… Finding favor? What might it mean?” (Mother Roots, p229)
All she can know in this moment is that saying yes to what God wants to do in her life, with her life, through her life, will not be a walk in the park.
As that famous… or maybe infamous Christmas song goes, “Mary, did you know?”
Maybe not every detail…
But she understood what it meant to follow God.
She knew that not only would her life be transformed.
As she sang out in praises to her cousin Elizabeth, in words that have remained with us all throughout the season of Advent,
“God will pull down the powerful from their thrones and lift up the lowly. God will fill the hungry will good things and send the rich away empty.”
She knew the world would be transformed, turned upside down and inside out.
And that kind of work is messy, and hard, and painful, and oh so good and needed.
And so Mary gives her consent to everything that this miracle will entail: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”
We witness her willingness to accept the joyful burden that God is bestowing upon her.
We hear her song of praise to the God who has come to her, a lowly servant. “Let it be with me according to your word.” And we forget how difficult it must have been to not only accept this joyful burden with those words, but to carry that joyful burden in her life.

Two thousand some years ago, a young woman, a girl really, said “yes” to God’s invitation – and the world was forever changed.
But then, if you think about it, that was how God had been working all along.
From the very beginning, the people of God were transformed and moved along and inspired by ordinary nobodies who hesitantly said “yes” to God.
Think of the widow, Tamar… the prostitute, Rahab… the immigrant, Ruth… the victim, Bathsheba…
Each of them, in their own way, said “let it be with me according to your word.”
They remembered God’s promises and lived the rest of their lives committed to obeying and fulfilling those promises.
And God accomplished amazing things through them.

Right now, we find ourselves celebrating the good thing that God has done in our midst.
But I find myself left with a question.
What are we doing to actively wait and look out, like Simeon had, for the new thing that God is about to do?
When the call of God rings out again, how will we respond?
You see, we are not all that different from these faithful, ordinary folks in these stories.
We are imperfect people with imperfect lives and yet we are asked to say yes to God.
Not a temporary commitment, like a new years resolution that we make today and forget about tomorrow…
We have been asked to give our lives to following Jesus Christ.
Can you turn your heart to God and say, “let it be with me according to your word.”?
Are you ready, are you prepared for something new to be born within your spirit?
Within this community?
Are we ready for Christ to enter our midst, our hearts?
Does that idea terrify you?
You know what. It terrifies me a little bit.
What is so scary is that saying yes means everything will change.
In fact, I think we all hope that we have said yes in the past, but because we have just kind of kept on the same path we’ve always been on, nothing has actually happened.
If we want to experience the kind of transformation God is brining into this world, we have to give ourselves to God completely.
It’s not just about saying yes. It is about continuing to say yes every single day.
Everything changed for Tamar. Everything changed for Rahab. Everything changed for Ruth. Everything changed for Bathsheba.
Everything changed for every single one of those disciples who put down their nets and their tax bags and decided to follow Christ.
But you know what… they didn’t have to do it alone.
And when someday, we find the courage to say yes to God, we will not be left on our own either.
Because while God freely chooses to use ordinary people to accomplish his will – God also gives us everything that we need.

Starting next week, with this new year, we are going to spend a few weeks working and praying and studying together and thinking about what it might mean to say yes.
What it might mean to truly follow Christ.
What it might mean to allow God to transform our lives.
I’m excited about the journey… I hope you will be too.

The Real Housewives

Posted on September 27, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Romans 16:1-16

Last week we explored the nuts and bolts of what a house church was, how it functioned, and who was part of it.

One of the things I lifted up is that while occasionally they would have had traveling preachers and apostles come visit, for the most part, these communities spent time reading and listening to scripture together.
They read from what we now consider the Old Testament.
And they received and read aloud letters from those who had known and experienced the good news of Jesus Christ.

The Book of Romans is one such letter.
Before Paul ever has the opportunity to travel there, he sends along his instruction and his teaching.
He wanted to share God’s good news with them and help them navigate some of the struggles they were experiencing.
And so for Christians in Rome, the very first time they would have heard these words, would have been gathered together in their homes.
It would not have been something they sat down to read.
It would have been something they heard.

My colleague Carol Ferguson writes about what it must have been like:

Can you imagine you are alive in 56AD, in the greatest city in the world, the heart of the empire, a place teeming with people, a place teeming with religious faiths and shrines of every description, a place where the spoils of nations are paraded through the streets, where a few coins will buy you a spot to watch gladiators kill each other for fun, where emperors are worshipped as gods?
Can you imagine that you are gathered together with a motley crew of compatriots, some wealthy and some poor, soldiers and serving girls and socialites, some with Jewish roots and some Gentile, because you’ve heard a letter from Paul—the Paul, the one whose letters are prized across the empire—is on its way?

Close your eyes and picture yourself there…
Crowded together others in a home, some standing, some reclining, children running around…
You can smell the food cooking from the nearby kitchen and the sweat of the day’s work…
And then you hear a voice reading aloud the words of Paul…

A quick question… as you place yourself here… whose voice did you hear?
Was it a man’s voice?
It’s Paul’s letter of course, so maybe that feels natural.
But when we turn to the words of Romans chapter 16, what we find is the introduction of Phoebe.
Paul takes time here at the end to lift her up and introduce her, giving her authority and credibility.
He asks them to welcome her and take care of her.
This was a common practice, so that the community receiving the letter would know that this person has the authority to not only speak, but also interpret what was within.
Jann Aldredge-Clanton describes Phoebe as a coworker of Paul’s “and as a minister of the church in Cenchareae… [she] led the community and presided over worship. And independent woman of some wealth, Phoebe was also a benefactor of Paul and many others.” (The CEB Women’s Bible, p. 1432)
And so after she carried that letter from Paul onto the streets of Rome, she would have been welcomed likely by Prisca and Aquila and the “church that meets in their house.” (16:5 CEB).
They would have gathered to sing and pray.
And break bread.
And then Phoebe would have stood in their midst and spoken.

Lest we think this was some kind of fluke and Phoebe was just one woman with a particular exceptional gift, the introductions at the end of Romans continue.
Paul gives his greetings to the leaders of the house/churches throughout this region, to other ministers of Christ who have been traveling, to friends he has met along the way and those who are family.
There are twenty-nine names listed here…
And ten of them are women.
Phoebe… the minister who brought the letter
Prisca… who is mentioned before her husband as the leader of the house/church… someone who was known to help mentor visiting teachers like Apollos.
Mary, the twins Tryphaena and Tryphosis, Persis… all women who have labored in Christian ministry for God.
Junia, who along with her husband, was not one of the 12 apostles, but possibly part of the 72 sent two by two by Jesus in Luke 10.
Rufus’s mother, possibly the widow of Simon of Cyrene who carried the cross of Christ.
Julia, who likely hosted one of the house/churches in Rome with her spouse.
Nereus’s sister, who probably played the same role.

I think we have typically thought back to this time and considered the place of women to be subjugated to men.
We have imagined them as housewives who cared for the family and took care of the home.
We couldn’t picture women active in ministry and if we did, they were always eclipsed by the work of those famous male apostles.
It feels relatively new for us to consider female as clergy.
In the United Methodist tradition, while John Wesley licensed women to preach, and women were ordained in the 1800s, they were only granted full clergy rights in 1956.
In other traditions, leadership by women is still rejected.

But scripture, history, and archeology paint a really different picture.
We find women leading ministry not only in the early church, but also in Jewish and Roman cultic traditions as well. Gravestones identify women as leaders of synagogues, elders, priests, and more.
In addition, many women ran their own household’s without mention of a husband, like Lydia an independent businesswoman who hosted Paul in Philippi, or Nympha who led the house church in Laodicea.
The stories of these women and others throughout scripture, show that women were essential ministers of the gospel.
They not only established house/churches, but also carried the good news from place to place.
It wasn’t some egalitarian dream world – but there was a place for the leadership of women.

Yet, Carol Ferguson notes:

As Christianity became more structured, more institutionalized, rules forbidding women from preaching or teaching—which itself suggests that it was happening—begin to appear. And in time the church was able to forget, and argue that women couldn’t lead because women had never led—a circular argument that short-circuited thousands of years of gifted, called leaders from leaving their mark on the church.
Sometimes you can still see the eraser marks in our scripture.

Ferguson lifts up a few examples.
First, there is Phoebe, herself.
In the original Greek, she is called a diakonos. It is used in talking about commissioned ministers of the Gospel, ministers with significant status, and deacons who had official duties within the church. It can also mean someone who serves another.
I looked this passage up in my favorite bible this week and the CEB translations reads:
I’m introducing our sister Phoebe to you, who is a servant of the church in Cenchreae.
It feels more like someone who cares for the church, instead of leading it.
With that one choice of how to translate a word, Phoebe becomes a servant rather than an official minister of the gospel, even though the context reminds us that as a wealthy benefactor, Phoebe herself would have had many servants in the traditional sense.

Someone else who gets erased from this passage is Junia.
Paul tells us that she came to Christ before him.
She was imprisoned with him for the crime of being a Christian.
She, alongside her partner Andronicus are called not just apostles, but prominent among the apostles – those who are sent by Christ to share the good news.
But for centuries, the name Junia was translated as Junias.
Theologians argued it had to be a man’s name, because women couldn’t be apostles.
We imposed our understanding of the place of a woman upon the text, rather than let the text change how we thought about the ministry of women.

I recently have been studying the sisters, Mary and Martha, from Luke’s gospel.
There, too, we have an image of women who are busy doing housework, serving the male disciples… or at least Martha is doing the serving.
Mary is described as slacking off, listening to Jesus instead.

But the word used in this passage to talk about the work Martha is doing is diakanos.

Mary Stromer Hanson lifts up a compelling argument based on this text.
Earlier in this chapter, Jesus sent out thirty-six pairs of disciples in ministry, likely including women, maybe even Junia and Andronicus.
They are to go out into towns and spread the good news and to establish themselves in a home… the very first iterations of this house/church model.
Jesus then himself enters a village and is welcomed and received into a home by Martha.

Now… here is where Hanson’s argument gets really interesting…
While modern translations say that Martha had a sister, Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching.
Grammatically, this could instead be translated:
Martha had a sister, Mary, who also sat at the foot of the Lord.
Meaning, they both were disciples of Jesus who listened to and followed his teaching.
Martha, it goes on to say, is distracted….
Distracted by what?
My bible says “getting things ready for their meal.”
The Message says, “by all the things she had to do in the kitchen.”
The King James Version reads, “Martha was cumbered about by much serving.”

But do you know what the word used here is?
Diakanos.
What if, Hanson argues, Martha, who has opened her home, is not preoccupied by the cleaning and the cooking… but by the ministry she is supporting in her own house/church.
In the community that she has been called to establish to spread the good news of Jesus.
Martha is suddenly transformed from a frantic housewife into a dedicated minister of the Lord.

We imagine Mary sitting there besides Jesus, refusing to help, but Hanson argues that grammatically, it doesn’t actually appear that Mary is there at all.
She has left.
Possibly, Mary was one of the seventy-two, sent out by Jesus in this act of ministry, while Martha supported that ministry from her own home.
Martha isn’t worried about Mary not drying dishes.
She claims to be overwhelmed by her work of ministry in the community, but Jesus sees past that concern to offer a word of comfort:
You are troubled about your sister being away. You are worried about what might happen to her out there in this risky ministry of evangelism. You want her to come home and serve in this way instead.
But she has chosen a good thing.

This long list of leaders at the end of Paul’s letter to the Romans are filled with servants of the Lord, ministers of the Gospel, leaders of the church.
Today, looking back, we might find the inclusion of so many women surprising.
But they simply were doing their part to bring folks together around the good news of Jesus.
Whether that meant traveling or opening their homes or preaching or leading.

And that’s what we all have done in these past six months.
We have opened our homes to God and led the people we love in the faith.
I love the way my colleague, Rev. Carole Ferguson describes this transition.
Whether or not we thought of our selves as leaders, we’ve all be worshipping in house/churches.
And you have made it happen.
You set up Zoom or Facebook so it would stream to your TV.
You brought your spouse a cup of coffee to sip during worship.
You yelled at your kids to come and watch.
You typed out prayer requests for friends and loved ones in the chat.
You lit a candle on your desk.
You sang along to the hymns.

Paul wrote a letter to the community of believers in Rome, but it was each of those twenty nine names listed at the close of this letter that did the hard work. They were the ministers.
They stepped up to lead and worship and support the ministry.
I can stand here and write and deliver a sermon, but you are the leaders of this church.
So, say hello to Karen.
Say hello to Dawn and Scott.
Say hello to Herb and his mother.
Say hello to the children in the Wright home who lead us in worship.
Say hello to Shirley and her sister-in-law, Sandy and Bob.
Say hello to the church that meets at the home of the Lockins and Osthus and Gordon families.
We have 255 households in our congregation, so this could take a very long while, so I will just say this:
Hello and greetings and love to all of you, faithful ministers of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Keep up the good work.

Sermon adapted from: https://carolhferguson.com/2020/07/12/ladies-of-the-house-church/

The Redemption of Scrooge: Bah Humbug!

Posted on December 2, 20181 Comment

Text: Isaiah 9:6-7, Luke 1:46-47, 52-55

One of my favorite Christmas movies every year is that timeless tale by Charles Dicken’s – a Christmas Carol. For those of you who haven’t seen it or visited the story for a while, it takes place on Christmas Even. Ebenezer Scrooge is a wealthy and stingy businessman who has no joy in is heart.
And like the plot of most good Christmas stories… trust me, this same story can be found in just about every Hallmark movie out there… the poor soul who is greedy and unhappy and without love in their heart discovers the true meaning of Christmas along the way.
This particular story begins with three ominous words: Marley was dead.
Scrooge’s business partner had died and this particular Christmas tale turns into a ghost story – with Marley haunting him from beyond the grave.
Marley appears, restless, dragging along clanking and heavy chains that represent the greed he exhibited in his life. He cannot find peace and is doomed to carry those burdens forever.

In the gospel of Luke there is a parable of the rich man and Lazarus.
Lazarus is a poor man, covered in sores, who spends his days at the gates of the rich man’s house. But the rich man never finds compassion for this neighbor who is always within his sight.
Both die.
Lazarus is carried up to heaven by the angels and the rich man is carried to the place of torment. In his suffering, he begs for mercy and compassion, but it cannot be given. So he asks just one more thing – to be able to warn his family not to make the same mistakes that he has made.
Marley, too, is hoping that Scrooge might learn from his mistakes, repent of his sin, and find redemption before it is too late.
Unlike our gospel parable, Marley gets the chance to speak from beyond the grave. He sends three ghosts throughout the tale to help Scrooge discover that he is traveling on the wrong path. Over the next three weeks of the Advent season, we will hear the message that each has for Scrooge… and for us… so that we, too, can arrive at Christmas and learn how to keep it well.

What are these sins of Scrooge and Marley?
Simply put, they loved money more than they loved other people.

Like the rich man in Luke’s parable, they could not see the value of another human life beyond the economic value of how much money that person could make for them.
That word, economy, is the basis for where we begin our story.
Economy actually comes from two Greek words: oikos, meaning house… and nemein, meaning manage. It is a word to describe how we manage our household, our affairs, our own material resources.
When Scrooge is visited by Marley in the middle of the night, he cannot begin to understand why his partner has been tormented so. Together, they had been focused on wealth, counting every penny, looking out for themselves. By worldly standards, they were both economic successes.
“You were always a good man of business, Jacob!” Scrooge cries out.
And here, Marley is able to call out the error of their ways:
“Business!” he answers, “Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence were, all, my business.”
Or rather, they were supposed to be.
But Marley and Scrooge had mixed up their priorities.
They were so focused on themselves that they never looked out for others.
They, like the rich man in the parable, didn’t realize that God’s economy has a different standard.
Our household extends beyond simply those who reside within the walls of our home, our community, or our country.
We are children of God, were are family of one another, God’s household encompasses our neighbors – rich and poor – stranger and friend.
And in God’s economy, how we manage our resources, how we value the life of another person, and the generosity of our hearts towards another human being are what matter.
Now, in death, Marley can see the plight of the poor… he hopes that Scrooge might see it before it is too late.

Dicken’s begins A Christmas Carol with the words, “Marley was dead,” and in so doing sets the stage for how redemption might appear in the life of Ebenezer Scrooge.
In the same way, our gospel stories begin with the introduction of someone who is going to forever change our lives. We are reminded of the promises of the past, the words of prophets like Isaiah, that a Savior is coming who will change the way we, too, see the world.
A young woman named Mary is visited in the middle of the night by an angel who announces that she will soon bear a child.
And Mary breaks forth into song, recognizing that this child who was to come would not only bring about redemption in her life, but in all lives, for all time.

Like Lazarus, in that parable of the rich man, Mary can see the plight of the poor and lowly. She has experienced it. And, she understands that God’s economy is different from that of the worlds. As her voices rises to the heavens, she tells of how God will bring about redemption by turning the economic values of greed and gluttony upside down.
“God has pulled the powerful down from their thrones and lifted up the lowly. God has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty-handed. God has come to the aid of the servant Israel, remembering God’s mercy, just as promised to our ancestors…” (52-55)

When Scrooge looks out upon his neighbors with their generosity and singing and love for one another, his only cry is “Bah! Humbug!”
He cannot yet envision how God is working to create peace and justice for all people.
He cannot see the value of his own employee, Bob Cratchit, much less the others who inhabit his community.
As Matt Rawle writes in his book, The Redemption of Scrooge – “When prosperity becomes the only measure of a godly life, the poor are vilified, the less fortunate are assumed to be lazy, greedy, and apathetic… mission work becomes something done for the poor rather than an invitation for the voiceless to speak.” (page 27)
God’s salvation, God’s justice, God’s economy is bigger than how much money we have in our bank account.
After all, our salvation is not based upon a figure or a math equation, but upon the gift of a child.
The gift of a child.
It is not something we can earn or create ourselves. It is pure grace, freely given, bestowed upon the deserving and undeserving alike.
As Isaiah reminds us, this son who will be given to us, this Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal One, Prince of Peace, has come, will come, is coming to establish endless peace with justice now and forever more.
This peace is not something we can earn or buy.
But we discover it in the compassion we share with one another.
In the love we are shown by the kindness of a friend.
In the household we create when we see each person we meet as a child of God.
May it be so. Amen.

Prepare the Way

Posted on December 3, 2017Leave a comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eve Meets Mary

Posted on November 26, 2017Leave a comment

Lately, as I’ve made my way home from work here at the church, I can see the stars in the sky. And it’s not because I’m here until 10pm.

No, the days are growing shorter… the air colder…
This is the time of year when we are preparing ourselves for the longest night, the winter solstice, and while the daylight wanes, we are clinging to reminders that better days are ahead.

Right here, in the midst of this season of darkness, we remember that it is in the darkness that new life comes.
The bulb has to be planted within the cold, dark earth to bring forth its buds.
Babies grow and are formed in the dark warmth of the womb.
And in this “bleak midwinter” we set out our evergreens and yule logs to remember that resurrection and eternal life are ours.
We are waiting, you see, during this time of Advent for the birth of the child spoken of by prophets… the Savior, Messiah, Prince of Peace, Light of the World.
And… as people born on this side of his birth, life, death, and resurrection… we are still waiting.
Advent you see, is not only a season of remembrance. It is also a time to look forward. The fullness of that kin-dom that Christ came to bring has not yet fully been realized.
All we have to do is open the newspaper to know that God’s will has not been done on earth.
We are still waiting.

Earlier this week, I heard news reports that the Island of Puerto Rico still only has power for 46% of its residents. The devastation of Hurricane Maria was so severe that months after the winds and rain poured down, rural areas still do not have any access to resources.
But not only Maria… the impacts of Hurricane Harvey in Texas and Louisiana are still being felt.
While it is not as present in the news, the continual onslaught of storms in Louisiana has had a doubled impact because of the simultaneous destruction of wetlands. The dead zone in the Gulf created by run-off farther up the Mississippi and the altering of the flow of the Mississippi for human habitation has devastated the area. The US Geological Survey now reports that nearly 1,900 square miles of land have disappeared in the last seventy years.
Sometimes, the sin and destruction and pain of this world is almost too much to bear.
Sometimes, it feels like we have been waiting too long.
Sometimes, it is hard to have any hope when we look out at reality.

Maybe that is why I find so much comfort in the words of The Archbishop of Denver, Charles J. Chaput. He defines hope as a choice, “a self-imposed discipline to trust in God while judging ourselves and the world with unblinkered, unsentimental clarity.”
Those words remind me that hope is not a naïve sentiment or wishful thinking.
We can look out unfiltered at the world that surrounds us… and we find hope at the intersection of what we see and our faithful trust in God
Hope doesn’t shirk away from problems or difficulties, but enters into them, confident that God will be there and will bring order, life, and joy out of the chaos.
That hope is not only for you and me. It is for all of creation. This whole world is waiting with us.

In Paul’s letter to the Romans, we are reminded that “the whole creation waits breathless with anticipation for the revelation of God’s sons and daughters. Creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice – it was the choice of the one who subjected it – but in the hope that the creation itself will be set free from slavery and brought into the glorious freedom of God’s children. We know that the whole creation is groaning together and suffering labor pains up until now.”

Whatever was intended for creation, with the tree of life and fertile land and those first humans holding dominion over it all, is not what we experience today. When we read through those first chapters of Genesis, there is no mention of rainfall or storms, no death, no decay, only life, and life abundant.

Our faith explains the brokenness of creation – the cycles of destruction, natural disasters, violence, and death by pointing to a single moment: When Adam and Eve ate of the forbidden fruit in the Garden (Genesis 3:6-7).
At that moment, everything changed.
That first sin, that first rejection of God’s intentions, had an impact on the entire world! God confronts Adam and Eve and there is not only punishment for the snake and the two humans, but as Genesis tells us, “cursed is the fertile ground because of you; in pain you will eat from it every day of your life. Weeds and thistles will grow for you, even as you eat the field’s plants; by the sweat of your face you will eat bread – until you return to the fertile land.” (Genesis 3:17-19)
We acknowledge this pain of creation even in the songs we sing this time of year. We proclaim how “fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains repeat the sounding joy”…. But we also sing about the groaning of the earth itself and its longing for redemption… “no more let sins and sorrows grow, nor thorns infest the ground.” (Isaac Watts, Joy to the World, UMH #246)

And as our Advent candle reading from Isaiah lifts up, it was not only the first sin of Adam and Eve that impacted creation, but as we continue to sin, the earth dries up and withers. (Isaiah 24:4-5)
Theologically, we are called to remember that our selfishness, our disobedience, our breaking of the covenant impacts the physical world around us. Because of our continued sin, the whole of creation is trapped in a cycle of death, enslaved by decay, and waiting to be set free.

So where is the hope that Paul writes of in Romans? Where do we turn for hope as we look out at the groaning of creation today?

One afternoon I stumbled upon an image that took my breath away.

It was drawn by Sister Grace Remington who is a member of the Cistercian Sisters of the Mississippi Abbey here in Iowa. It depicts Eve, clad only in the flowing locks of her hair and clutching that forbidden piece of fruit. Her leg is entwined in the grip of a snake; her head hung in shame. Evil, sin, and death are her legacy. It is our legacy.
But with one arm, she reaches out and places her hand on Mary’s womb.

Mary stands there full of grace and mercy.
She gently touches the face of Eve as if to tell her it is okay. She holds her other hand over Eve’s and together they feel and experience the life of the one who was coming to redeem and restore all the creation.
There is hope.
When Paul writes about the groaning of creation and all of God’s children, he describes that pain as nothing compared with the “coming glory that is going to be revealed to us.” (Romans 8:18)
And then in verse 22, he uses the Greek word synōdinō to portray this reality; a word used only once in scripture to describe the agony of childbirth.
Creation is suffering labor pains.
Something new is about to be born.

In this season of Advent, this image of Eve and Mary fills my heart with possibility and invites me to hear the words of Romans 8 in a different light.
So often, I hear the frustration and groaning of the text, instead of diving in to see the good news.
Yes, the world around us is groaning, but they are labor pains. Creation itself is about to be delivered, to be release, to be set free to become what God fully intends for it.
In his letter to the Romans, Paul keeps pointing back towards Adam, because in those first human beings, we see God’s ultimate intention for the human race.
Paul believes that in Christ, in that child that would be born of Mary, the human project finds it’s completion (Jospeh Sittler).
In the beginning, there was a part for humanity to play – tending the garden, carrying the image of God, helping all of creation to thrive.
And now, as Christ is born into our lives and we claim the Spirit of God that sets us free, it is our job to take up that role once again.
As this image conveys, in Christ, we find release from our temptations… that snake of sin that would bind us is being stomped on by Mary.
In Christ, we find forgiveness for past transgressions… the head hung in shame and guilt is gently touched, the hand is embraced.
The way we have lived on this world – using and abusing God’s gifts for our own intentions – doesn’t have to be the way that we move forward.

In fact, Paul tells the Romans that those who have been set free by the Spirit of Christ have an obligation to live as God’s sons and daughters right here and now.
Not for our sake.
Not for selfish reasons.
But because the whole earth is waiting for us to do so.
The love and mercy of Christ reaches out to us as the descendents of Adam and Eve and yes, we are offered forgiveness, but more than than, we are empowered by God’s Spirit to live differently.

Paul believed that God linked the restoration of creation with you and me, and so I find hope in this season of Advent in the possibility that people of faith can help to change the tides of decay.

All throughout this season, we will highlight some of those stories and ways we can make an impact, but these Christmas Trees here at the front of the church remind me of one…

In the midst of that loss of habitat and wetlands in the Louisiana delta, people are working to restore the wetlands and help mitigate the impact of storms by collecting used Christmas trees.
As they deposit them into threatened bayous, they become the basis for new marsh vegetation and they help to reverse erosion.

We have a choice of how to live on this earth and whether or not we will obey the call of God to care for all of creation.
Just like this image of Eve, may we be transformed by the birth of Christ into our lives, so that we might be the hope for the world.

NOTE: This sermon is an adaptation from chapter one of my book, “All Earth Is Waiting.”

A Different Kind of Proof

Posted on March 28, 2016Leave a comment

A man named Bob Ebeling thought he was a loser.

Mr. Ebeling was an engineer on the Challenger Space Shuttle and discovered that the O-ring seals in the rocket might not hold up in the cold temperatures of the 1986 launch.

He and fellow engineers pleaded with NASA to stop the launch, but they decided to go ahead anyways.

He went home, knowing the shuttle would explode. “And it did, 73 seconds after liftoff. Seven astronauts died.” (NPR 2/25/2016)

In an interview with National Public Radio, Mr. Ebeling shared that for thirty years has been carrying the guilt and the burden of the loss of life on that day.

Lots of people told him that it wasn’t his fault…

That he had done everything he could…

But he couldn’t forgive himself.

He believed one of the mistakes God made was picking him for the job.

And because NASA and the contractor in charge of the launch had never given him confirmation that he had done the right thing, he didn’t believe it.

What fascinates me about this story is that Mr. Ebeling did the right thing. He told the truth. He did everything he could to prevent the launch. And after his story first aired in January of this year, calls and letters poured in to his home. People who had been close to him. People who had worked with him. Complete strangers who had been moved to write and let him know that he wasn’t a loser, but a hero.

And yet, he wouldn’t believe… he couldn’t forgive himself…

Unless there was a specific act of proof – a call or a letter from NASA themselves.

I hear in his story the same kind of need to know and to find proof that I hear in our gospel lesson this morning.

Women trek to the tomb are the break of dawn. And they have no idea what to make of the stone rolled away. The body of their Lord is no longer there. What they are experiencing doesn’t make any sense until the angels appear and remind them what Jesus had told them: that on the third day, he would rise. And they remember.

Can you imagine their amazement?

They rush back to the disciples and tell everyone about what they have discovered. They tell them about the tomb. They tell the crowd: He Is Risen!!!!

And no one believes them.

They need proof.

They need something more concrete.

They need to see it to believe it.

And so Peter runs to the tomb himself, looks inside, and sees nothing but a cloth.

And the scripture says… he returned home, wondering at what had happened

But what I find amazing is that this account leaves out a key detail: It never says he believes.

And I think if I had showed up there, I would have been surprised and amazed, but I’m not sure I would totally understand what had happened.

I think he was unsure.

Filled with doubt and questions.

He didn’t have enough proof to believe that what the ladies had told him was true.

Unless there was a specific act of proof…

Friends, it isn’t easy to believe the story that we share with you this morning.

Resurrection? Yeah, right.

We haven’t seen it or experienced it.

We can’t go back in time and run to the tomb ourselves.

Angels aren’t popping in to worship this morning to tell us how it is.

If even the disciples had a hard time believing, how are we supposed to understand this good news?

Where is the proof? Where is the concrete evidence?

Mr. Ebling wanted a word from specific people in order to forgive himself.

And he got it. He got a call on the phone from one of the vice presidents for the contractor, Thiokol who told Mr. Ebling – you did all that you could do. (NPR)

And George Hardy, a NASA official involved in the Challenger loss wrote to Mr. Ebeling – “You and your colleagues did everything that was expected of you.”

And it started to make a difference.

And then came a statement from NASA itself: “We honor [the Challenger astronauts] not through bearing the burden of their loss, but by constantly reminding each other to remain vigilant… and to listen to those like Mr. Ebeling who have the courage to speak up so that our astronauts can safely carry out their missions.”

That was it. That was the thing he wanted to see and hear. The proof he needed to let go of his burden of guilt.

The disciples wanted to see it with their own eyes… to touch their Rabbi with their own fingers.

And Jesus appeared to them.

He showed them his hands and feet. He ate a piece of fish with them. He personally reminded them of everything he had said – that he was supposed to suffer and rise from the dead on the third day.

They got the proof they wanted.

But there is something that those disciples didn’t quite understand…

something that Mr. Ebeling didn’t quite understand…

something that we don’t quite understand whenever we are looking for a specific piece of proof or evidence… something concrete to demonstrate truth.

Yes, Jesus gives them the proof they wanted – he shows them his physical resurrected self – but the proof they needed was still to come.

Jesus isn’t there to show them his body. He is there to send them forth to live out his message.

“A change of heart and life for the forgiveness of sins must be preached in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. Look, I’m sending you to what my Father promised.”

What if we have it all wrong?

We always say, “seeing is believing.”

But what if DOING is believing?

What if in the very act of living out the resurrection and the good news of Jesus Christ we find the proof we are looking for?

What if we are looking for proof instead of living out the proof with our very selves?

You see, Jesus, didn’t ask us to intellectually understand the resurrection.

He didn’t ask us to be able to explain it scientifically.

He doesn’t want us to have a philosophical debate with people about it.

Jesus wants us to live it.

To change our hearts and our lives.

To go out in the world and turn it upside down.

He started a resurrection insurrection and Jesus rebelled against the powers of evil, sin and death… and now he calls us to follow him in turning the forces of destruction on their heads.

It is in the process of living it, that we discover just how true and real the power of the resurrection is.

Over the last few weeks here at church we have been reading this book, Renegade Gospel. And it hasn’t been an easy book. The author has challenged us time and time again to get out there and live our faith!!!

That has been a hard message to swallow, because so many of us feel like we aren’t doing as much as Mike Slaughter asks of us. We feel guilty because we don’t go as far as he asks us to go. We aren’t sure we are ready to give it our all.

But what Slaughter reminds us in the very last chapter is “that an abundance of faith is not necessary.” Jesus told the disciples that faith as small as a mustard seed could change the world. “It’s not about how much faith you have, but how much of what you have that you commit to action.”

You don’t have to believe every single word of the gospel to live out the power of resurrection.

You can have all kinds of doubts and questions and you can still live out the power of the resurrection.

I’m begging you… don’t sit back, waiting for definitive concrete proof before you decide to become a Christian.

I’m not sure it’s there.

But what I do know is that when I live out my teeny tiny little mustard seed faith and trust in the power of resurrection, I find intangible, mysterious, holy truth everywhere.

I find it in this room when I hear the stories of healing in this life and in the celebration of a life that will continue in the next.

I find in in a letter I received from one of you this very morning that describes how you have awakened to a new understanding of faith and discipleship.

I find it at the food pantry in the hope that comes to life on the face of a mom who was desperate.

I find it in the pile of goods and sleeping bags and food that are outside the sanctuary, waiting to be delivered to homeless people through Joppa.

I find it in the discovery on a child’s face when they learn a new word.

Mike Slaughter writes that “the resurrected Jesus revealed himself to his followers in a very personal and real way. But he made clear its impossible to know him apart from the commitment to become intimately involved in his life and mission. Intentional participation in his life and mission is part and parcel of faith. Faith is a verb!!!”

So friends, don’t wait for proof.

Don’t spend thirty years of your life waiting for some kind of external validation.

Just follow Jesus.

Go where he sends us.

Join the incredible movement to transform this world!

Live it out by showing forgiveness and grace to every person you meet.

Live it out by praying for the sick.

Live it out by loving the unloveable.

Live it out by holding the hand of someone who is dying.

And you will find the proof you are looking for…

Because Christ is risen!

See(k)ing Jesus

Posted on March 13, 2016Leave a comment

I’m sometimes asked what the difference is between Christians who are out there serving people in the world and regular, ordinary people, who are out there serving.

So many of our businesses here in Des Moines are great proponents of volunteerism. Every time we go to a Meals from the Heartland event, or collect stuff for the food pantries or the schools I hear about Wells Fargo or Principal or Hy-Vee doing the same sort of thing.

Is there anything different about the character or the content of what we do as people of faith?

Most days, if we are honest, probably not.

Should there be?

Absolutely.

But what is it?

Mother Teresa was once showing a bishop the community she served. It is said that she asked the bishop, “Would you like to see Jesus?” She then took him around a few corners to a man laying on a leather pallet who had clearly visible things crawling on his body. The bishop stood there in shock, but Mother Teresa knelt down and wrapped her arms around him, holding him like a baby in her arms.

“Here he is,” she said. To which the bishop replied – “Who?”

“Jesus” was her answer. “Didn’t he say you’d find me in the least person on earth? Isn’t this Jesus challenging us to reach out and love?” (wright-house.com/religions/Christianity/mother-teresa.html)

Seek and you will find.

That is what our gospel reading says.

Or as Michael Slaughter reminds us in “Renegade Gospel” – the passage uses the present continuous tense… Ask and keep on asking… Seek and keep on seeking…

The bishop wasn’t looking for Jesus and couldn’t see him in the suffering of the man on the pallet. But Mother Teresa was. She was looking for him every day. She was seeking Jesus every day. She knew that in every moment she was serving, she was doing it to Jesus.

Seek and keep on seeking and you will find.

The problem is, we aren’t always paying attention to Jesus.

I think one of the fundamental differences between Judas Iscariot and Mary in our other gospel text this morning is that the first was focused on himself and the second was seeking Jesus.

As _________ shared with us this morning, Jesus and the disciples were with Mary, Martha and Lazarus in Bethany. And in the midst of the gathering, Mary takes this extravagantly expensive bottle of nard and anoints Jesus feet with the ointment.

This story itself appears in different ways in different texts.

In some cases the woman is unnamed, in another she is Mary Magdelene, and here she is identified as a different Mary.

In Matthew and Mark, the story comes earlier in the timeline and the woman anoints his head – a prophetic act that symbolizes his kingship.

But here, H. Stephen Shoemaker points out, that she anoints his feet, which would signal instead his imminent death. She, unlike the disciples, unlike Judas or Peter, had already accepted the true meaning of his teaching- that he was about to die. (Feasting on the Word)

There Jesus was, in the flesh, right in front of both of them.

Seek and keep on seeking and you will find.

But the gospel of John points out that Judas was so focused on that bag of money and his own selfish interests that he wasn’t even paying attention to Jesus.

Mary, on the other hand…

Mary sees Jesus in front of her, plain as day. She sees the suffering he is about to undergo. She sees his fear and pain. She sees his holiness.

Mary knew that this might be the last time she saw Jesus before he made the final trip to Jerusalem.

She knew their time together was short.

And she knew she could do this one thing for him. She anoints his feet in an act of worship showing her love and reverence for him. That was all that mattered.

When I heard that story about Mother Teresa, embracing the man who was suffering, I thought of Mary and Jesus. The tenderness of the physical touch. The dignity bestowed. The compassion and love that were offered through the embrace.

Love is costly.

Whether it is expensive perfume or the risk of embracing a diseased stranger, love is costly.

To use a word we shared last week – love is prodigal.

It is extravagant and sometimes appears wasteful. It is overwhelming and too much. And sometimes, by its very nature, it is immensely temporary.

In his reflection on this text, William Carter notes:

“Lots of extravagant gifts are put into the air, where they soon evaporate. A church choir labors to prepare and intricate anthem, and three minutes later it is gone. The teacher prepares the lesson, stands to deliver, and then the class is adjourned. Mourners provide large arrangements of flowers to honor those whom they grieve. Saints donate large sums of money for their congregations to spend. Why do they do this? Love has its reasons.” (Feasting on the Word)

Where Judas saw wastefulness and a hit on his personal pocketbook, Mary saw an opportunity to pour out extravagant love to her Lord and Savior.

Even his excuse – Hey! We could have spent this money on the poor – comes off as a limited perspective. For Jesus, in turn, quotes from Deuteronomy 15:

“Give generously to needy persons. Don’t resent giving to them because it is this very thing that will lead to the Lord your God’s blessing you in all you do and work at. Poor persons will never disappear from the earth. That’s why I’m giving you this command: you must open your hand generously to your fellow Israelites, to the needy among you, and to the poor who live with you in your land.”

And what I can’t help but hear in his response is the reminder that while Mary had the opportunity to pour out extravagant, generous love to Jesus in that moment, in just a few weeks, he would be gone.

And then, their responsibility, OUR responsibility, is to pour out that same extravagant love to the poor in our midst.

Give generously.

But you see, Jesus changes the dynamics of that exchange.

Because, now, it is not simply because it is a command from God on high.

Now, we do so, now we give and love and get down on our hands and knees to serve because whatever we do for the least of these, our brothers and sisters, we are doing it for Jesus.

That, friends, is the fundamental difference that we can offer the world.

We can love our neighbors as we would love Jesus, himself, present in front of us.

As we serve the homeless here in Des Moines – and a group is going out to do just that with Joppa this afternoon – you can serve them as you would serve Jesus.

As Slaughter writes in chapter four, “When Jesus walked Planet Earth, everyone could see him in the flesh – friends, followers, and foes. We no longer have that opportunity. Now that Jesus’ physical presence is removed, the world can no longer see him, but we can. Those who are born of the Spirit are able to experience and see him today. When we ask, seek, and knock in expectation, we find what we are looking for.” (p. 82)

Seek and keep on seeking and you will find Jesus right in front of you.

Too often, we miss out on the opportunity to truly love extravagantly because we are too focused on ourselves.

Or because we are going through the motions.

Or because we simply aren’t paying attention… because we don’t realize Jesus is right in front of us.

The world can no longer see him… so they do good deeds and they serve their neighbors and think nothing of it.

But friends, the essential character of HOW we serve is different, because when we look into the eyes of someone who is sick or dying or struggling, we don’t see an opportunity to do good… we can see Jesus.

When did you see Jesus?

When did YOU last see Jesus Christ?

When did you interact with him?

When did you hold his hand?

When did you share a meal with him?

When did you visit him?

When did you offer him a cup of water?

And when you saw him… how did you show your gratitude and love to him?