Taste and See God’s Rescue

Format Image

Text: Psalm 50:7-15, Proverbs 27:23-27

When we get hamburger patties out of the freezer and throw them on the grill, we do so with very little appreciation for the cow or the farmer that feeds us.   

We have very little personal connection with the sources of our food when we go to the grocery store and purchase perfectly portioned packages of meat. 

Our relationship with the animal life of this world was intended to be very different.  We were made “in God’s own image,” so that we might “take charge of the fish of the sea, the birds in the sky, the livestock, all the earth, and all the crawling things on earth” (1:26). 

As the New Interpreter’s Bible notes, the command to take charge, to “have dominion… reveals that it must be understood in terms of care-giving, even nurturing, not exploitation… human beings should relate to the nonhuman as God relates to them.”[1]

And just as the fulfillment of our purpose was to love and obey God, so was it the fulfillment of the creatures to love and obey humanity. [2]

In the first chapter of Genesis, we find a paradisiacal vision with a vegan diet for all – only green plants for food; and no animal products are consumed by humans or creatures (Genesis 1:29-30).

By the time we get to the fourth chapter, however, humanity has been kicked out of the garden and the relationship between creatures, humanity, and God is forever changed.

And yet, God continues to provide and be in relationship with us.

We learn that the first children respond to God’s gift of life and provision is by presenting an offering from each of their resources… an offering of grain, and an offering from the flock. 

Each represented a sacrifice – food that would no longer be available for sustaining their family.  Yet the text tells us that Abel’s offering from the flock was more pleasing to God than Cain’s.

The text infers that it wasn’t the type of offering.  Rather, it was the spirit of the giver.

Yet Cain is jealous of his brother and this taking of the first animal life is followed by the taking of the first human one.

By the sixth chapter of Genesis, humanity has been devoured by sin and God wipes the slate clean with the Flood.

Both humanity and animal life is preserved through the ark Noah built.

Quick trivia question… how many of each type of animal did Noah and his family bring aboard the ark?  [PAUSE]

The answer is… it depends!

[slide:

“From all living things – from all creatures – you are to bring a pair, male and female, into the ark with you to keep them alive.” (6:19)

“From every clean animal, take seven pairs, a male and his mate…” (7:2)]

In some verses, it says two of each animal… but in other verses the text tells us that they brought seven pairs of the clean animals… the ones that could be eaten and sacrificed.

Which is pretty important, because as soon as Noah steps off the boat, he builds an altar and offers up some of these creatures to God.

This offering was not required. 

It was an expression of gratitude and a sacrifice, for these creatures were the only ones left on the planet which could provide for Noah and his family. 

God is pleased with this sacrifice and as God blesses Noah and his family, the meal plan given to humanity is adjusted.

Everything that lives and moves will be their food… with one caveat. 

All of creation is still a gift, and God still desires life, even amid our tendency towards destruction. 

So the blood is not to be consumed, and the spilling of blood among humanity is not permitted. 

Our responsibility remains to have power over… also known as responsibility for… all of creation.

We are still to practice dominion.

We continue to follow this thread to the book of Proverbs:

“Know your flock well;

Pay attention to your herds,

…Then the lambs will provide your clothes,

And the goats will be the price of your fields.

There will be enough goat’s milk for your food,

For the food of your house,

And to nourish your young women.” (Proverbs 27:23-27)

I think of my friend, Tim and his wife, Lori. 

They raise chickens on their farm out by Norwalk. 

Tim calls them “the girls” and he lets them out of the coop every morning, pampers them with great feed and treats from the garden, gathers their eggs, and safely tucks them in every night. 

Occasionally the chickens get territorial, and sometimes bigger ones would pick on the smaller ones, so multiple coops and a process for integrating new birds into the flock helped to manage that process.

Many of the cuisines of the world developed from what the land of the region supported holistically, rather than farmers trying to meet the demands of the market as we do today. 

Like the proverbs wisely suggest, these people understood their flocks well and understood that the well-being of their herds meant the well-being of their families. 

The scale of production was much smaller and many regional cuisines developed with more grains and vegetables than meat on their plates because the whole environment fed the people. 

They thought about how the grass and the lambs, the wool and the milk, the manure and the fig and olive trees were all intertwined with one another.

In his book, The Third Plate, Dan Barber is concerned about how we can care for flocks in a way that ensures this kind of dominion and stewardship. 

His restaurant, Blue Hill, is not only farm-to-table, but was actually built on his farm. 

It wasn’t too long, however, that he began to realize there was a problem with his efforts. 

They took wonderful care of their flocks and their pasture, moving the sheep to the freshest spots, letting chickens fertilize the land. 

It was the work of husbandry and shepherding and the spirit of the proverbs. 

Yet, when the first lambs were ready for the table, he observes that “we had sold out in the time it takes to eat a hot dog” (page 13).

The problem with how we eat today, especially in restaurants, is that we give the biggest chunk of our plate to the protein and it is not sustainable for the planet, farms, or our diets. 

We have taken the good gifts of God, gifts given to humanity even in the midst of our sin and rebellion, and we use our power over them to produce as much meat as fast as we can, often without regard for humane treatment or for the nutritional depth that comes from good husbandry.

It wasn’t always this way.

As Margaret Feinberg notes in her book, Taste and See, “Throughout the Torah, God instructs how to eat, when to eat, what to eat, and how much to eat… in an era before refrigeration and vaccines, these food laws kept the Israelites from becoming Ill.  They also distinguished God’s people…” 

She visits with the self-proclaimed “Meat Apostle, “ Matt Hamilton and he tells her that these ancient regulations still impact how we handle food today, because it keeps us safe. 

But these commands and teachings also speak of how we treat the flocks. 

God has always required that we do so mercifully and with care.

Butchering must be done in ways that avoid pain.

Modern science even tells us that calm and well-cared for livestock produce better tasting meat because a scared animal will cause adrenaline to rush through the body. 

In biblical times and many places around the world today, meat is not a staple, but a delicacy. 

It is expensive to raise meat… both in terms of time, land, and food. 

As Feinberg explains, “ancient Israelites knew the real value of the animal is found in the length of its life, not its brevity.” (p 149).  As the author of Proverbs tells us, these flocks provide milk and wool and offspring that will sustain the family over the years. 

So the offering of a year-old, unblemished lamb…

Or the butchering of the fattened calf when the prodigal son returns home…

These all represent sacrifices of not only food today, but of milk, wool, and income in the future.

And it was often only during these moments of holy worship and celebration that meat would have been consumed by ordinary folks. 

In a burnt offering, the whole animal would be consumed by fire – everything given to God.

For a guilt or a sin offering, the animal guts would be given to God and the meat would be reserved for the priests.

But in a fellowship or peace offering, the meat is divided between the priests and the one who made the offering. 

You see, these kinds of offerings or sacrifices represent our gratitude, our trust, and our obedience to the Lord. 

As Matt Hamilton says, “God wants a person’s best… and to trust him that when we sacrifice, he’ll provide the next animal for the offering” (p. 153). 

You see, it is not the taking of a life that is pleasing to God.

It is putting our lives in God’s hands. 

It is acknowledging our dependence upon the Lord. 

And that sacrificial act of letting go of your own power and property and placing your future in God’s hands… that is what is redemptive about our offerings. 

God gives the ancient Israelites the command to make these kinds of sacrifices, because the act itself formed them as people. 

Or as Feinberg puts it, “recognizing the high-cost world of livestock helps us understand the high-cost ask of God” (152).

God doesn’t want us to go through the motions.

God does not need our sacrifices.

After all, all of the creatures of this earth already belong to God.

As the Psalmist writes, the cattle on a thousand hills are the Lord’s. 

What God has always desired is that we walk gently upon this earth and bear God’s image to the world.

God wants us to practice dominion, responsibility, care towards all creatures.

God has given us the gift of creatures on land, air, or sea to be our companions and to provide essential resources for life. 

God desires for us to not take for granted what we have and to fulfill the promises we have made and to trust that God will provide and rescue us. 

God wants us to be reconciled to one another, to creation, and to the Lord.

And so, God ultimately made a sacrifice. 

The Lord, who is our shepherd, became the perfect, unblemished lamb. 

As Feinberg writes, “through the bloody mess of Jesus’s death… God experienced what we all experience living on this broken ball of dirt.” (p. 157)

Jesus entered into our pain and sin and became truly with us, Immanuel. 

He took away the barrier that sin places between us and true, abundant life. 

And Jesus calls us to do the same.

To stand beside and care for the vulnerable of this world.

To practice dominion and care and mercy.

To trust that God is with us in all that we do. 

And to act in ways that respect and honor the gift of life we have been given. 

May it be so. 

Amen.


[1] Terence E. Fretheim. NIB. Volume I. p. 346

[2] Ibid. I.5.

Like a Shepherd

Format Image

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

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

We are the living proof of the resurrection.

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

That’s all well and good…

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

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

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

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

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

Jesus proclaims, “I am the good shepherd.”

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

I know you…

I really know you…

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

And not just you.

All of the sheep. 

The ones right here…

And all of the ones out there, too. 

These words are so comforting. 

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

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

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

Let’s watch:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W_4S5yBkSpU

How many of you are that sheep?

Just me?

No? Of course not… it’s all of us. 

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

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

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

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

Oh, what wondrous love is this. 

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

It feels good to be loved like that.

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

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

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

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

How we are supposed to act.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We are commanded to love like Jesus loved.

What does that mean?

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

First:  we are called to relationship.

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

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

A thief seeks to harm others. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We care about what happens to them.

Second: we are called to look beyond this flock. 

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

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

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

We are simply called to love.

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

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

And goodness that’s hard to live out.

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

Who just can’t seem to get it together.

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

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

Someone that you have a hard time loving.

Do you see their face?

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

We are called to love our enemies.

To pray for those who persecute us.

To forgive over and over and over again.

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

Finally: we are called to love sacrificially.    

To lay down our lives for other people. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

What does it mean to practice the resurrection?

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

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

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

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

May it be so.  Amen.

Sing! Play! Summer! – The Old Rugged Cross

Format Image

Text: 1 Corinthians 1:18-29

A young rabbi found a serious problem in his new congregation.
During the Friday service, half the congregation stood for the prayers and half remained seated, and each side insisted that theirs was the true tradition.
Nothing the rabbi said or did moved toward solving the impasse.
Finally, in desperation, the young rabbi sought out the synagogue’s 99-year-old founder. He met the old rabbi in the nursing home and poured out his troubles.
“So tell me,” he pleaded, “was it the tradition for the congregation to stand during the prayers?”
“No,” answered the old rabbi.
”Ah,” responded the younger man, “then it was the tradition to sit during the prayers?”
“No,” answered the old rabbi.
“Well,” the young rabbi responded, “what we have is complete chaos! Half the people stand and shout, and the other half sit and scream.”
“Ah,” said the old man, “that was the tradition.”

Like that Jewish congregation of sitters and standers, one of the things that I appreciate about the people of Immanuel is that no matter what differences you have, you still come together to worship and serve.
There have been winners and losers and conflict in our history.
There have been folks who got their way and those that didn’t,
people who stayed and people who left.
Sometimes conflict appeared over silly little things.
And sometimes conflict brought to the center of our attention real problems that needed to be addressed by our whole community.

One of the things I love about turning back to these letters from Paul to the first Christian communities is that they help us remember the struggles we face today are problems people of faith have been facing for thousands of years.
There may not be much comfort in that… but at least we have good company!

Paul begins his letter to the church in Corinth by praising God for all of the potential of this amazing congregation.
But then he reminds them of the one thing that is keeping them from realizing God’s will in their midst.
“In the name of Jesus,” Paul writes, “you must get along with each other! You must learn to be considerate of one another and cultivate a life in common.” (message paraphrase)
Paul looks at this church and sees people who are wrestling for the spotlight.
He sees people who think they are right and everyone else is wrong.
He sees people who really do want to be faithful, but are going about it the wrong way.
They think to be faithful, they have to be on the “right team.”
So they pick sides.
They follow Apollos or Cephas.
They throw their lot in with Paul.
Some of them even go around saying, “to heck with all this division… I’m just going to follow Jesus!” And in doing so, they only stoke the fires of competition even more… because, isn’t everyone trying to follow Jesus? Who among us gets to claim that name more than any other?

In the worldly realm of politics, we see this all the time.
There are winners and losers on every issue.
There is competition for money and time and we don’t care who gets run over in the process.
We don’t care who our words hurt or what we do to our nation in the process.

I think about the crisis happening on our nation’s southern border.
Global Ministries and the United Methodist Committee on Relief (UMCOR) have declared today a Sunday of Solidarity with the Suffering of our Children.
They call us to pay attention, to pray, and to respond out of the love of Christ.
We need to become more aware of the devastating conditions in Latin American countries that lead families to pick up everything and risk their lives for a better opportunity.
I think about how complicated our asylum process is and how misunderstood it is by U.S. citizens.
We wrestle with the tension between security and compassion, safety and welcome and long for a solution that isn’t an either/or.
The reality is, this isn’t an issue between Democrats and Republicans, because policies of family separation began under the Obama administration and have simply been continued and enforced under Trump.
This past week, when a government lawyer argued against providing toothbrushes to children, the reality is, she was in court because of a violation of the Flores Agreement under the previous president.
We get so caught up in slinging words at one another and picking sides, that we have closed our eyes to an immoral response to this humanitarian crisis for years.
We become trapped in a cycle of blame.
We are unwilling to examine the problems in our own corner of the political spectrum.
Every side thinks it has the answer and is unwilling to listen to those who are most impacted by the decisions being enacted.

When Paul wrote to the Corinthians, he was aware that this continuous practice of win/lose partisan behavior ends up exacting a high cost.
It is not the politicians or the intellectuals or even the biblical scholars who will save us.
We won’t find our solutions by picking a side and tearing the other down.
The only answer that will really and truly bring life is found in the way of the cross.
It is sacrifice.
It is humility.
It is weakness.
It is utter foolishness.
It is everything.

George Bennard was born in Ohio, but grew up in Iowa as the son of a tavern owner and coal miner.
He came to faith as a part of a Salvation Army ministry in his early twenties and became a Methodist evangelist, traveling throughout the Midwest.
One of his journeys took him to Michigan in 1912-13 to help lead a revival and he found himself heckled and ridiculed by some young people in attendance.
Bennard felt low, shamed, let the words of those young people start to get to him…
The world doesn’t always understand the way of the cross.
But he kept his eyes on Christ and began to study and write about his experience.
The words began to flow and before long, he sat with his guitar and finished the song.

The Old Rugged Cross is an emblem of suffering and shame.
It is despised by the world.
It is full of shame and reproach.
And yet… to that very cross we are called to cling.

Paul tells that Corinthian church trapped in their conflict between who is right and wrong that they are called to become fools.
They are called to be the laughing-stocks of their community.
They are called to lay down their weapons of division and look out instead to where God is showing up in the world:
In the weak.
In the lowly.
In those who are considered nothing.
The good news that points to Christ on the Cross seems like sheer foolishness to those hellbent on destruction, but for those on the way of salvation… it makes perfect sense. (paraphrase of the Message).
The cross is what unifies us.
The cross is our standard.
The cross of Christ, his life, death and resurrection, should be the focus of all our decisions.

Faced with any conflict, we should cling to that Old Rugged Cross.
We are called to love as Christ did… sacrificially.
We are called to go to the margins, to the outcast, to the forgotten.
We are called to die to self, to leave behind security and safety in order to be in radical solidarity with others.

I think about Scott Warren, a teacher from Arizona who was arrested for leaving water and sheltering migrants from Central America in 2017.
He broke the laws of our country and found himself in prison because he took seriously the call of Christ to clothe the naked and give drink to the thirsty.
In the midst of a nation pointing fingers and arguing about laws, we are called to find a way through the chaos of difference… and the only path is through the cross.
And sometimes that makes us look like fools by worldly standards.

When we cling to the Old Rugged Cross, we allow Christ to transform us.
We become the crucified and risen body of Christ in the world…
We go to those who suffer and suffer with them.
We enter the lives of the broken and the lost to bring healing and hope.
We share our love and compassion and mercy and in doing so, we share the good news of the salvation with the world.

It is in the weak and the lowly and those the world declares are nothing that we find Christ.
So let us join our hearts in prayer…

(adapted from a prayer offered by UMCOR)
God of All Children Everywhere,
Our hearts are bruised when we see children suffering alone.
Our hearts are torn when we are unable to help.
Our hearts are broken when we have some complicity in the matter.
For all the times we were too busy and shooed a curious child away, forgive us, oh God.
For all the times we failed to get down on their level and look eye to eye with a child, forgive us, oh God.
For all the times we did not share when we saw a hungry child somewhere in the world, forgive us, oh God.
For all the times we thought about calling elected officials to demand change, but did not, forgive us, oh God.
For all the times we thought that caring for the children of this world was someone else’s responsibility, forgive us, oh God.
With Your grace, heal our hearts.
With Your grace, unite us in action.
With Your grace, repair our government and communities.
With Your grace, help us to find a way to welcome all children everywhere,
That they may know that Jesus loves them, Not just because “the Bible tells them so,”
But because we have shown them Your love in real and tangible ways,
And they know that nothing, absolutely nothing, can separate them from Your love.
May the cross of suffering and shame bring beauty and light and love and light to those who are the most in need of love.
And in loving them, in becoming fools for them, in denying ourselves and taking up Your cross, may we find life, too.
Amen.

Two Texts: Iran, Cuba, and the Gerasene Demoniac

Format Image

This month, our “Two Texts” series takes seriously the advice of Karl Barth… that we should take the bible and take the newspaper and read both.

All sorts of stories have caught our attention over the summer and have led us to wonder what the Bible might have to say about that.

What do people of faith have to say about these issues of our day?

And how do we, as a congregation with many different perspectives, look at these stories in a way that respects one another?

I and Pastor Todd can’t claim to be experts on world events, politics, finance and sociology. But we do know this book. And so our series this month will not dive into the details of policies, but will instead point us to biblical themes that have a bearing on our world today.

Will you pray with me…

 

I must start in our exploration of diplomacy in the midst of disagreements by reiterating a confession I just made. I am not an expert on these topics. In fact, the roots of both of the conflicts we will talk about today started before I was born.

In 1960, Cuba took over and nationalized American-owned oil refineries without permission or compensation.   The Cuban Revolution had overthrown the Batista regime, Fidel Castro was in power, and the United States and our economic leaders were … well… not happy. October 19th of that year began the United States embargo against Cuba.

Our national relationship with Iran also changed as the result of a revolution. In 1979, their United States supported leaders were overthrown. Eventually Iran became an Islamic republic, led by the Grand Ayatollah Khomeini. There were a number of factors that eventually severed relations between our countries, but perhaps one of the greatest began on November 4 of that year. A group, angry that Iran’s former leader had been allowed into the United States, took over the American embassy and held 52 diplomats hostage for over a year. Over the years that have followed, our sour relations have focused on the attempted development of nuclear weapons by their country.

Our anger, our fears, our troubled relationships have led us to keep both of these nations at more than an arm’s length. We see them as dangerous to ourselves and our interests. We have intentionally cut off our connection with both nations in an attempt to force them to change and keep ourselves safe.

 

When we turn to the pages of the Bible, I am reminded of someone else who was kept at a distance. In the region of the Gerasenes, there was a man no one could control. He had been possessed by an evil spirit and was causing chaos in his community. As the Message bible tells us, “no one could restrain him – he couldn’t be chained, couldn’t be tied down. He had been tied up many times with chains and ropes, but he broke the chains, snapped the ropes. No one was strong enough to tame him. Night and day he roamed through the graves and the hills, screaming out and slashing himself with sharp stones.”

 

How should we respond to those we fear? Or disagree with?

Do we keep them at a distance?

Do we try to chain them up and isolate them?

Do we prefer to turn our backs, avoiding them at all costs, while they in turn self-destruct?

That is what the people in the Gerasene region did. They were helpless. They were scared. And they kept their distance. Can we blame them? They are human like we are.

 

But what do we do about a whole country?

We think of this biblical story as the story of a single person, but when we dive deeper, this is a story about communities.

As Jesus approaches the demoniac (the demon possessed man) he tries to cast out the spirit. And he asks the spirit’s name…

“My name is Mob.” “My name is Legion.”

The spirit was not one, but thousands. A Legion is actually a military term for an entire unit in the Roman army… between 3-6,000 foot soldiers.

An entire community was living inside that man, tormenting him and everyone around.

So the larger community did what they could. They couldn’t cast them out. They couldn’t change the man, so they chained him up. They isolated him in the hopes that the spirits would leave.

Much like the larger world community has used sanctions and embargos and severed diplomatic ties with Iran and Cuba in order to protect ourselves and to force a change in the regimes of these places.

 

This summer, we have seen our diplomatic ties with these places soften a bit. We have reached a historic compromise with Iran that we are now debating in our own country. We have warmed up to Cuba and will soon be opening a United States Embassy there. We have reached out as a nation to talk, to imagine new possibilities, to rebuild relationships.

 

When Jesus approached the Gerasene Demoniac, nothing about the man had softened or changed. He was still as dangerous as ever. But through God, all kinds of healing are possible. Where the rest of the countryside had given up, Jesus knew that the man could be saved.

And so Jesus and the Legion had a talk. They negotiated. They each made some diplomatic concessions.

 

There are three larger themes I think we can point to in this story.

First, knowing Jesus had the power to cast them out, they begged Jesus to be merciful.

Power is a dangerous thing. In each of the conflicts mentioned, military power has been a thread of both disagreements – whether it was missiles pointed at our country or the development of nuclear weapons. But our nation also has a strong measure of power that has kept the other at bay.

Each week this month, we are also including a bulletin insert from the Social Principles of the United Methodist Church. Maybe we can think of this as our third text. These are the official positions of our church on some of the issues we are exploring today.

This one, in particular, challenges us to love our enemies, seek justice, and serve as reconcilers of conflict. It is a reminder that our first moral duty is to work together to resolve by peaceful means every dispute that arises. It is also a strong condemnation against nuclear weapons.

Above all, it is a reminder that our power to hurt one another is great. And as people of faith, our call instead is to always seek peace first.

Rather than destroy the mob of spirits, Jesus showed them mercy.

I mentioned at the start of the message this morning that I wasn’t even alive when these conflicts started, but I learned along the way that over half of the population of Iran wasn’t around for the beginning of this conflict either. Half of their population is under the age of 25. A quarter of their people are under the age of 15. They certainly didn’t start the conflict, but they are impacted by it.

Mercy in these situations looks like recognizing each nation as a part of the human family and prioritizing human values over military claims. It means listening to the hopes and concerns of the other as we seek a way forward.

 

Second, this story reminds us that there are no easy answers to these negotiations. There are sacrifices and consequences to be made along the way.

As Jesus showed the Legion mercy, he allowed them to enter a herd of pigs that were grazing nearby. As we heard our lay reader say, nearly two thousand animals were possessed and driven mad, they charged over a cliff into the lake and drowned.

While pigs are not clean animals and wouldn’t have been part of the diet of the Jewish families, this was a gentile region. Someone or many someone’s lost their entire herd that day. The economic livelihood of many families was probably destroyed.

Yet, you also have to consider that the economic well-being of the region was probably hampered to begin with if this possessed man had been terrorizing the countryside. Travelers and merchants probably avoided the area as much as possible.

Every negotiation has a give and take. Diplomacy is not easy and it is important to consider what must be sacrificed for the greater good. That doesn’t mean anyone will be happy… and the people of the region, though initially relieved were pretty upset with Jesus over the pigs.

In our diplomacy with Iran and Cuba, we might not all agree on the specifics of the deals. But we must remember that in all cases, a negotiation means we let some things go, so that we might reach other objectives.

 

Lastly, this is a story of reconciliation. Relieved, embarrassed, ashamed, the man who had been possessed by the Legion, now didn’t know what to do. He begged Jesus to allow him to run away with the disciples.

But Jesus refused. He ordered him to return to his own people, to his own community, to find his place there again.

In every encounter Jesus has with those who are displaced, shunned, or isolated, his end goal is to return them to their own community. It is not to rescue or remove them, but to reconcile them. Think of the Samaritan woman, or the prodigal son, the lepers or the hemorrhaging woman? In every instance, they are healed so they can return to their place in society.

If we are the Body of Christ, then we need one another. This church community needs those we disagree with and those we don’t understand. We all have something to teach one another.

On a global stage, we might not all share the same faith or belief systems, but we are all human beings. We breathe the same air and need the same water. Our economies and politics impact the people of this world, not only their leaders. Whether we like it or not, we are all in this together.

 

As we encounter the news and hear stories of our diplomatic ties to Iran and Cuba and other places where our relationships have been difficult, let us think of the Gerasene Demoniac.

Think of the man, the Legion, and think about how Jesus walked right up and offered a path forward. Not an easy path, but a just path, a merciful path, a path towards reconciliation.

May we seek these things in all of our relationships.

Amen.

Image: Second Coming of Christ With Two Gospel Miracles
Detail: Christ and the Gerasene Demoniac
Artist:  Alexey Pismenny

Who do you say I am?

I started reading Neil Cole’s Organic Church this morning.

I am highlighting like a fool, but one line caused me to stop and pick up my phone to blog:

Before one speaks about starting or growing churches, one simply must wrestle with this question: “Who is Jesus to you?”

Maybe what struck me so much about this is that less than a month ago, I heard that same phrase. A new pastor took up her post in our community and her first sermon answered this question.

She was inspired by a pastor, retiring from his church who ended his ministry with such a sermon. A parishioner came up after and said: “That was wonderful… Why did you wait so long to share with us who Jesus is?”

As a pastor, I talk about Jesus all the time.

I teach about his life and ministry.

I use big theological words like atonement and justification.

I share what Jesus asks us to do and be.

But, have I ever preached on “who Jesus is to me?”

To me, Jesus is God in the flesh. Immanuel, God-with-us.

One reason I was so excited to be serving at Immanuel UMC is because their very name captures who Jesus is to me.

I shared a few days ago about how much I love being an aunt and getting down on my hands and knees to play with the kids and that is what I feel Jesus has done for me. Jesus comes to us, wherever we are and meets us there. The love I have for them… My willingness to do just about anything for my niblings… is but a pale reflection of the lengths Jesus went to show his love for me. He suffered and died to save me from myself.

And that is because the relationship is always the most important thing with Jesus.

More important than rules or right answers, more important than our histories of successes or failures.

I didn’t earn God’s love… It was there.

I can’t do anything to lose it either.

God-in-the-flesh met me where I was… a young woman, full of plans for my life, naïve, hopeful, everything and nothing figured out…

But that’s not where it ends. It isn’t just a nice feeling of warmth and comfort and safety.  Love means wanting the best for someone, and God’s love saves us.

From ourselves.
From sin.
From false realities.

Love is full of expectation and dreams.

And somehow God kept nudging me to where I needed to be.

Jesus opened my eyes to see the broken of this world: some by their own making, others by the sin of others or our corporate betrayals. And Jesus asked me to love them… like I had been loved.

So what does it mean to be like Jesus? To follow this Jesus?

Jesus asked me to do whatever I could to challenge the things and people and structures that tear us apart. To be willing to put my life or safety on the line to meet another person where they are.

Jesus asks me to be in relationship with others. Because relationships are the center of our faith.

Jesus is God-with-us… He is relationship.

And as the Body of Christ, we are called to follow together. A community of accountability and hope that holds on to God’s expectations and dreams for our world. People who love and challenge one another and who seek to always build new relationships… Especially with those who have none.

That is who Jesus is to me.

Count the Cost

I have four different apps on my phone that are designed to help me get healthy and fit and lose weight.

 

One of them is a weekly meal plan full of healthy, high protein, low calorie dinner options. It comes complete with a grocery store list and nutritional information for each meal.

 

One of them connects with a wristband to track my steps and even monitors my sleeping habits.

 

One is designed to track my calories eaten and burned each day. It is like a social network to connect me with others who are working on the same thing.

 

The last, I use when hiking or running to track my speed and distance.

 

I have all the tools I need. I have a goal in mind. And yet, somehow I have gained five or six pounds since I moved to Des Moines.

 

Fundamentally, my lack of success has nothing to do with the tools at my disposal and everything to do with the fact that this goal is not a priority in my life. I am not willing to put it above all else. I’m not willing to let this goal change other aspects of my life. I know that to succeed, this priority is going to affect the amount of sleep I get and it will mean spending more money for healthier food options. It will reduce the time I spend watching my favorite t.v. shows and even require that I cook more meals at home instead of enjoying my husband’s super delicious, fatty, carb-filled dinners.

 

The truth is, you can have all the tools in the world and all the best intention, but until you lay out a plan, build in some accountability, and actually make the commitment to do whatever it takes to reach that goal… then nothing about your habits or lifestyle or physical body will change.

 

In our gospel reading this morning, Jesus shares with us an extraordinarily difficult challenge. “Whoever comes to me and doesn’t hate father and mother, spouse and children, and brothers and sisters – yes, even one’s own life – cannot be my disciple.” He asks us to “give up all of your possessions” in order to follow him.

 

Jesus isn’t asking you to turn right now to your loved one and treat them badly. He’s not asking you to leave home. He’s asking each one of us to take seriously the call to be his disciple and helping us to see that our intentions don’t really matter. Until we lay out a plan, build in some accountability and actually make the commitment to do whatever it takes to follow him, then our habits and lifestyle will never change.

 

Last week, we were reminded that the things of this world are impermanent and shaky at best. We heard the call to place our belief and our trust firmly on God and I’m sure a whole lot of us left worship last week thinking, YES! That’s what I need to do! That’s the kind of faith I want to have.

 

“My Hope is Built on Nothing Less than Jesus’ Blood and Righteousness”

“Yes Lord, Yes Lord, Yes Yes Lord!”

 

And yet, just like all of my good intentions about exercise and health, we have to be willing to let those words move from intentions and goals into an actual concrete plan that demonstrates commitment and sacrifice.

 

In your bulletins each week during this series, you will find a green insert that highlight some of the lessons we cover each week in the “Enough” study. I want to invite you to take that sheet out right now.

 

Today’s insert invites you to think about what God is calling you to be and to do. I want us to look at the side that talks about goals.

 

If God is our rock and foundation…

If God is the creator of our lives…

If Jesus Christ is calling us to follow…

Then, what are you supposed to be doing with your life? What is your purpose?

 

For very few of us, that calling involves some sort of professional ministry. And to answer that call took planning and commitment, money and time.

 

Most of us here in this room today, however, have a much higher and more difficult calling. You have been called to be lay persons in the church. You have been called to live out your discipleship where you are. At the office, on the soccer field, on the production line and in the classroom.

 

Sometimes, the work you give yourself to matches up with that call to live out your discipleship. Some of you could share how the act of caring for patients or helping someone plan for their financial future is your ministry.

 

Sometimes, however, our work simply provides the resources that allow us to live out our discipleship in other ways. We spend our retirement caring for neighbors and loved ones. We teach lessons and music to our little ones at the church. We volunteer with community agencies.

 

What gifts has God given you?

What is your purpose?

What is God calling you to do?

 

And once you have figured that out…

are you willing to sit down and count the cost?

Are you willing to give whatever it takes to get there?

Will you let God’s plans trump your plans?

 

 

One of the greatest adventures of my life was to engage in the work of Imagine No Malaria over the past two years.

 

Answering that call was extraordinarily difficult. After all… I already had a calling – to be a pastor, serving in a church. But I also began to see how my gifts tied in with what we needed here in Iowa… what we needed to accomplish what God was calling us to do.

 

I also discovered that God had some lessons for me along the way: the primary lesson being that when we have a mission and a calling, we have to do whatever it takes to get there.

 

Henri Nouwen writes that the work of “fundraising is, first and foremost, a form of ministry. It is a way of announcing our vision and inviting other people into our mission… We are declaring, ‘We have a vision that is amazing and exciting. We are inviting you to invest yourself through the resources God has given you – your energy, your prayers, and your money – in this work to which God has called us.’”

 

And all along the way, I witnessed people who caught that vision and heard the calling from God to end this preventable, beatable disease. And they made sacrifices to help other people live. Some families gave up cable t.v. to make a monthly gift. A nurse quit her job to work on our grassroots campaign. Lots of people made a significant three-year commitment to give to this work. One little girl gave all of her birthday money to help save the lives of kids just like her.

 

And we did that, because we counted the cost and we were willing to give whatever it took to make the goal of saving 200,000 lives a reality.

 

What is your purpose?

What is God calling you to do?

 

Once we answer that question, then we think about those things that are going to help us get there. Then we can think about the spiritual goals and the financial goals and the steps along the way that will help us to say “Yes” to God and set our own plans aside.

 

On the other side of this green insert is a budgeting worksheet. It helps us to gain an accurate picture of the priorities in our lives based on our spending and helps us reorient our financial priorities based on those goals and that purpose that is on the other side.

 

I have a friend and a colleague who recently shared that he used a budget just like this to help him make some big changes in his family. As he and his wife started plugging in the numbers, they were shocked by how much they were spending on transportation. My friend had just bought a new truck and while it was beautiful, the payments were hefty and it was a gas guzzler. And he hardly ever used it as a truck. When compared with the amount of money they were giving to the church and using to help prepare for the new baby on the way, they realized that if they were going to truly give to God and set a good example for their new child, the truck had to go. They sold it and bought a more affordable car. They allowed their spiritual priorities guide their financial decisions.

 

But I also want to emphasize that this accounting we do in our lives needs to cover more than just our finances.

 

What would happen if we did this same accounting of our time?

Where are you spending your time and energy?

Does it reflect your calling?

What do you need to let go of in order to give more time to God’s purpose for your life?

 

Jesus knows that discipleship isn’t easy. He knows that to follow him requires sacrifice… a giving of ourselves and a letting go of our wants and desires.

Jesus knows, because he has been there.

 

He counted the costs. He weighed the options. And he knew what it would take.

 

And today, he asks you to do the same.

 

He’s asking each one of us to take seriously the call to be his disciple. He is asking us to count the cost, lay out a plan, and actually make the commitment to do whatever it takes to follow him. When we do so and when we hold one another accountable to the choices we have made, then our lives will truly be transformed.

 

Are Ye Able?

I have just two simple questions for us to wrestle with this morning… First – what do you want? And second – are you willing to do what it takes to get it?

What do you want? And are you willing to do what it takes to get it?

Now – let’s be honest with one another… how many of you first thought of something you really want like a new car or a new house or retirement to come early? Show of hands =)

I hate to disappoint you all this morning, but I’m not one of those fancy television preachers that can promise fame and fortune and personal success if you just pray hard enough. Sorry.

No, I’m asking these questions – not because together they are the key to unlock a world of personal gain… but because they ask us if we are willing to lose everything.

What do you want? And are you willing to do what it takes to get it?

Some time ago, I had my congregation make a list of the five most important things in their lives. I asked them to write them down and to number them in order of importance.

I think that all of us found the task very difficult. While it might be easy to list those things that are really and truly important to us – our families, our work, our education, our faith – to place one of these things above the other, to make those kinds of choices is hard. It is hard because it means that some things in life – some things that we truly love – have to be placed second. Or third. Or stop becoming a part of our lives all together.

This morning, we are talking about allegiances, about priorities, and what we do when those priorities conflict.

As much as we love to talk about freedom here in the United States, the truth is, we are always, every day, constrained by choices. We are always, every day, limited in our ability to do one thing, because we have chosen to put another thing first. Whether it is our jobs or our families or a certain value like freedom itself – we live our lives so that that thing determines all of our actions.

Our courageous men and women in uniform understand this choice. Just as they are working tirelessly to defend the freedoms of others – they must sacrifice and put their own families on the back burner.

New moms and dads can attest to this fact – when a baby comes into your life – everything else stops. That infant child becomes the highest priority in the world to you… above work, about yourself, above everything.

And for most of us, we do that, we prioritize one thing over another because we truly love it. We love it so much that we would be willing to do ANYTHING for it.

We understand the word “sacrifice” when it comes to our jobs or our families…

But how often do we understand the word sacrifice when it comes to our faith?

I was driving around recently and caught a segment from BBC World News on the radio. It was a story about how the peace talks between Israel and Palestine are being perceived in Israel itself. One of the men being interviewed said very adamantly – I want peace, but I don’t want to surrender.

As I kept listening to him say those words: I want peace, but I don’t want to surrender, I found myself so frustrated by this attitude that says the only peace that is acceptable is the one that comes on my terms.

And I realized how often God must be frustrated with us… because we make the same choice. The only faith that is acceptable to us is the one that comes on our terms.

We want to be Christians, but we don’t want to surrender the things of this world.

Today in Luke’s gospel, Christ teaches us that we can’t have it both ways.

We can’t hang on to our own desires or hopes or dreams or things and also follow Christ.

We have to answer the question – What do you want? And are you willing to do what it takes to get there?

Do you want to be a disciple of Jesus? And if so, are you willing to do what it takes?

Photo by Michaela Kobyakov
Jesus looks out upon the crowd and asks us some questions. If you were going to build a house, wouldn’t you first sit down and figure out the supplies you needed and how much money it would cost? You don’t want to be stuck with a building you can’t complete? If you were a president going off to war, wouldn’t you first sit down and figure out how many troops you needed and how much money it would take? And if it was a fight you didn’t have the resources to win, wouldn’t you go to the other leader and surrender?

Take stock, Jesus tells us. I know you want to be my disciples – but are you willing to do what it takes to be one? Count the costs. Are they burdens that you are willing to bear?

Are you willing to hate your father and mother and spouse and child? Are you willing to give up your job and your security? Are you willing to give up your citizenship and your rights? Are you willing to lay it all on the line to follow me?

Hesitantly, we say yes – I want to be a Christian… but we wonder about where that line is.

You see, we draw our lines in very different places than Jesus would draw lines.

We draw lines around our family and say – I’m not willing to sacrifice this. Or we draw lines around our jobs – and will sacrifice it all for the next paycheck. We draw lines in the sand and say that this particular issue – whether it’s abortion or animal rights or Islamic religious centers or the creation of a Palestinian state – this issue is the most important thing and that we will never give up until we have gotten our way and if you stand outside of that line then you are the enemy. We refuse to surrender. We refuse to give in. And in the end, I think we loose it all.

Because you know what – Christ draws a line. He doesn’t draw it around our houses or cars or children or institutions or issues – but he draws it right down the center of our lives.

Remember, Christ turns the world as we know it upside down. To save your life, you must lose it. To be exulted, you must be humbled. To be first, you must be last.

Nowhere in the gospel does it say that if you go to church on Sundays and the rest of the week work really hard at your job and raise a good family then someday after you die you’ll go to this happy and wonderful place called Heaven. I wish it did, but it simply doesn’t.

No, the gospel tells us that we must hate our parents and our spouses and children and put it all on the line and bear our crosses – and then we will be his disciples.

Just bear with me for a second…

Because alongside all of those hard demands on our lives, there is the good news… Because the gospel also says that the sick will be healed. The gospel also says the poor will be lifted up. The gospel also says the oppressed with go free. The gospel also promises Emmanuel – God- with-us.

Those are the words and the promises that I find in scripture. I believe in the God that will set all things right… and that includes my sorry, screwed up life with all of this messed up priorities. I believe in the God that went to the cross to experience the agony of human suffering and who rose victorious on the other side. And I have to trust that if God says – turn it all over to me and I will make something beautiful of your life – that God means what God says.

Priorities and allegiances matter. What we want more than anything in the world matters. And Christ says that if we choose to be his disciples… if we chose to be known as his followers, then we are in the palm of God’s hand. We should not be afraid, because we have life in Christ. We will find our lives and our fullness, when we follow him.

Today – we are challenged to turn our lives over. We are challenged to surrender all of those things that we think we want and that this world tells us are so important. Here our lives are, Lord. Here we are, Lord. Use us to feed the hungry. Use usto heal the sick. Use us to lift up the brokenhearted. Use us to speak the truth in love to those who preach lies. Use us to stand with the oppressed. Use us to say “no” to a world obsessed with more. And if by chance the world turns against us – so be it. We will know who stands beside us.

My prayer is that we as a community can stand up and say to the world – We want to be Christ’s disciples – and we know what is asked of us. We are ready to live God’s kingdom in this world. We know what it asks of us. And we are not afraid. Amen.

what we owe God…

I’ve been thinking a lot about atonement theories as we journey through the book of Hebrews in worship.
Anselm’s understanding of atonement says that we owe an infinite debt to God because we have marred God’s honor.  Christ comes and pays that infiinite debt for us.  All fine and dandy. Thank you Jesus.
But in response, we often talk in the church about how much we owe Jesus for what he did for us.  We owe our entire lives in gratitude.

Does that just replace one kind of infinite debt with another?

I’m seeing that in Hebrews, there very much is more of an understanding of restoration of righteousness involved in the atonement.  The Hebraic understanding of atoning sacrifice is meant to restore God’s righteousness, set things right again.  And because we screw up so many times, we have multiple needs to seek atonement.  It’s not an infinite debt kind of thing, but a continual need for small re-alignments.  What makes Jesus so great, the High Priest, is that he can offer one sacrifice, himself, for all of us, for all time, for all of the multiple small and big sins and transgressions of our lives. The righteous order of the universe is cosmically shifted and balanced.

That’s mostly how I understand it… but then there is the passage in chapter 6 that talks about how when we backslide, we crucify Christ yet again… so maybe I’m off on that insight.