singing – Salvaged Faith

Recognizing the Messiah

Posted on January 19, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Isaiah 49:1-7, John 1:29-42

It only takes a spark…

As I’ve shared with you in the past, my extended family has often been to Hawaii together. My grandpa and grandma were fairly blessed in their life and made the decision long ago to spend their money bringing us together than leave money to be fought over.

So growing up, what made these trips awesome was not just the location, but the uninterrupted week or two with family – playing, swimming, hiking, laughing.

One of our favorite adventures to do each trip is to hike the Diamond Head crater.

According to the souvenir t-shirt, the hike is:

0.7 mile long trail which is unpaved and has an uneven rock and dirt surface that may be loose and slippery in places. It leads through a dark tunnel and involves climbing a steep, 99-step concrete stairway and narrow spiral staircase inside an unlit bunker. The hike took about an hour up and 45 minutes back down.

Now, in reality, that’s not a bad trip… but when you consider that we normally make the hike with kids under the age of six, the trek suddenly becomes much longer.
Little feet get tired quickly and usually by the time we get a third of the way up the crater, someone wants to be carried.

So, I decided to start singing.
A simple call and response song the kids could repeat and had energy to keep their feet moving.
“the littlest worm”

Others chimed in and pretty soon, our whole group was singing our way up the crater.
We sang all sorts of camp songs and before the kids knew it, we had made it all the way to the top of the crater – and no one had been carried!

All it took was someone singing that first note and lighting the spark.

In many ways, that is what John the Baptist did so many years ago.

As we read this morning in the gospel, John saw Jesus walking by and said something.

Well, he didn’t just say something – John the Baptist called out: Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! Quite an introduction if you ask me!

The next day, John saw Jesus again and he shouted again, “Look! Here is the Lamb of God!”

And when his disciples heard it… they started to follow Jesus.

Not just that day. They stayed with him and then they too began to tell others the good news about Jesus.

It only takes a spark.

What does it mean to recognize the Messiah?
What does it mean to catch a glimpse of the light to all the nations?
And what does it look like to not just recognize this light, this Messiah, but to follow?
Does our encounter with this light of the world shape how we interact with others? How we share the good news?

In David Kinnaman’s 2007 book, unChristian, he presents research from the Barna Group on how young adults view Christians. Words like “antihomosexual”, “judgmental”, “hypocritical”, and “old-fashioned” top the list.
And not by slight margins. Over three-quarters of those interviewed would use those words.
We just can’t downplay, Kinnaman writes, “how firmly people reject – and feel rejected by – Christians.” (p19)

Those words might be surprising to you, but I’m married to someone has often said those exact things. Our friends are mostly outside of church circles, looking in, and they would say the same things.

And I think it is because somewhere along the way, we lost that first spark of John the Baptist and Andrew and Peter.

We find ourselves living in one of two extremes…

Sometimes the church claims to have the truth and light and acts with moral superiority over those who do not. Our light shines for others, but it is like the cold light of a neon sign – barking out truths, but not sharing the warmth of God’s love with them.

On the other hand, sometimes the church is turned inward on itself and afraid of what people will think if we talk about God. We are like those who have hidden their lamp under a bushel basket and the world can’t see the grace and mercy of our faith, because we are too timid to share it.

When you think about which of those two extremes gets more media coverage… which is more in the face of people who are outside the church and maybe it’s not so hard to see why those stereotypes of Christians among young people exist.

I think in many ways, this congregation is more like those in the second extreme.

I know that if people on the outside really got to know you and how you love and follow Jesus those adjectives wouldn’t be the first things that came to mind.

But are we actually out there, breaking down those barriers and stereotypes?
Does the fact that we follow Jesus make a difference in how we treat others?
Or, have we kept the good news locked up tight in our hearts?

Today is Human Relations Day and we remember that the church is called to: “recognize the right of all God’s children in realizing their potential as human beings in relationship with each other.”

On this day we remember that the light within us was meant to be a light to the nations and every person is a beloved child of God.

It is a reminder that the love of God that flows through us must be shared through actions as well as through words.

It is a reminder that a spark becomes a blazing fire only when we seek out others for the journey.

Look at those first followers of Christ, who selflessly loved other people and shared the light of God with them.
Daniel Clendenin at Journey with Jesus writes about how they chose to follow Jesus in words and deeds.
Like the Christ that they followed, they broke down social barriers.
They ignored religious taboos that judged people as clean or unclean, worthy or unworthy.
They subverted the power structures of their time that separated people by wealth, ethnicity, religion and gender.
And they didn’t allow their own interests to cloud the message about who Christ was, and is, and is to be.

First, look at John the Baptist.
He selflessly proclaimed Christ to the extent that his own followers left him.

While we sometimes think of John the Baptist as a solitary radical who lived in the wilderness and ate locusts, he had disciples.
These were people who believed his message and committed themselves to learning from him and supporting him.
Yet John did not allow his own interests get in the way of his message.

When he cried out that Jesus was the Lamb of God, his own followers stood up and literally began following Jesus down the road.

This spark that was let loose could not be controlled and like John the Baptist, we must be willing to let people follow another road and to go a different route if that is how they can best be in relationship with Christ.

I was a chaplain at a hospital one summer and met a woman newly diagnosed with leukemia.
She was terrified of death, of her “unfinished business” and wanted to know about God.
I had many conversations with her over the weeks and then months as she waited for a bone marrow transplant. We talked about Jesus and heaven and prayed through the psalms.

I felt like her pastor… but one morning I walked in and another was standing by her bed.
He was the pastor at her grandma’s Baptist church in her hometown.

I have to admit… I was a bit jealous and territorial at first. But as heartbreaking as it was, I knew it was better for her to build a relationship with this pastor. By doing so, she could follow Christ more closely and have a church community to walk with.

Like John the Baptist, I had to let her go.

Sharing the good news of God isn’t about numbers or competition in how many followers we have.
It’s about working together to bring about the Kingdom.
And so John let his followers go.
He knew the light of Christ was bigger than his one small spark of light.

Second, look at how Christ himself invited those first disciples into a relationship.

When they heard this was the Lamb of God, they ran down the road to catch up to him.
And Jesus turns around and simply asks them: What are you looking for?

He doesn’t spout off four essential things you need to know to be a Christian.

He doesn’t make them pass a litmus test on what they believe about him.

He doesn’t ask them to join in the “sinner’s prayer.”

He asks them what they are seeking.

What are we looking for?
What do we hope to find?
Their response was really simple… maybe because they didn’t really know what to expect:
I want to know where you are staying.

And Jesus says: Come and See.

This short exchange between two seekers and Jesus tells us a lot about how the light of Christ can shine in our lives.
They are curious. They don’t have all the answers.
And Jesus gently affirms that reality.
He invites them to dip their toes in. To check it out for themselves.
He welcomes them into his life, knowing that by being in relationship with him, their lives will be transformed.

We don’t have to have it all together to follow Christ.
We don’t have to have a blazing fire built up in our hearts.
It only takes a spark.
Just a spark of curiousity.
Just a spark of desire for the God who created us.

This spring, I attended a continuing education event with Rev. Lillian Daniel, who leads a congregation in Dubuque.

She talked about how there are a lot of people in this world who identify as nones, who have no faith community they might identify with.

Some of those folks she describes as “dones.” Maybe they were part of a church. Maybe they were harmed or pushed away by people inside the church. But for whatever reason – maybe even those adjectives and stereotypes mentioned before – they are done with the church.

But there are others who are “nones” but maybe could better be described as “not yets.” They don’t know what they are missing. They are curious. They might walk into a church building and have no idea what a hymnal is or when to stand or sit and what they should wear.

But that doesn’t mean they aren’t curious.

That doesn’t mean they don’t have question.

That doesn’t mean a spark isn’t ready to ignite in their hearts.

If we follow Jesus, that spark will be enough to get us started.
Along the way, the more we see and experience and share our lives with God, the more the light of Christ will grow in us.

What I find amazing about this story is that after just one night in the presence of Jesus, Andrew decided he had to tell someone about his experience.
That little spark of light within him began to burn, began to glow and shine for others.
Andrew ran home and found his brother Simon.
And he didn’t just tell Simon about Jesus.
Andrew actually took Simon to meet him.
He helped Simon experience Jesus for himself.

Think about that difference.
That difference between telling someone about the love of God and helping them to experience it.

When we invite other people to ‘come’ – do they ‘see’ Jesus in our congregations?
Do we live our lives out there in the world in a way that others don’t just hear about Jesus, but actually experience the light of God through us?

Relationships are the primary way we share the good news of God with others.
And when we are truly in relationship with others, those negative stereotypes fall away.
We can be present, listening to their questions more than sharing our answers.
We can be honest about our own struggles, rather than worrying about appearing perfect. Because let’s be honest… we aren’t perfect and pretending to be so is where that whole “hypocritical” stereotype comes from.

During the season of Lent, coming up in about six weeks, we are going to explore together what it means to take that light out from hiding under the bushel basket.
What does it mean to unbind the gospel, to let the good news loose in our lives?
I’m really excited about the opportunity we are going to have to pray together and to learn new ways of sharing our faith with others.

Because you see, when we have a relationship with Jesus… when we follow him… it is not just something we have chosen to believe.
It is something we have experienced.
And it is a spark we can’t help but share with others.

I think in many ways, that tendency to want to hide our light under the bushel basket, to keep it locked up tight is precisely what Christian author Marianne Williamson was thinking of when she wrote:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small doesn’t serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

That spark of light is within you… don’t hide it.
You are a beloved child of God.
So let the love of God shine out through you!
Through you, through us, through this church, God’s salvation can truly reach the ends of the earth.

Spirit of Singing Along

Posted on July 8, 2012Leave a comment

The sorcerer and the eunuch.

As we continue to follow the Holy Spirit through the lives of the apostles, we come upon two men who have very different attitudes towards the work of God.

In the course of his ministry, the deacon Philip will encounter many people who hear and believe the good news about Jesus Christ… what is it about the sorcerer and the eunuch that make their stories so special?

I believe it is the contrast between their responses that is so telling.

One arrogant and brash, the other humble and full of questions.

For one, the power of the Holy Spirit is a commodity to be bought and sold, possessed and tamed.

For the other, that power is precious, mysterious, and a gift to be treated delicately.

Like with the story of Mary and Martha, we are given a chance to examine our lives, find where our tendencies lie, and invited to choose a better way.

The first major difference in these two stories is how each of them is introduced to the Holy Spirit.

In the case of the sorcerer, familiar with magic and illusion, the Holy Spirit is seen from a far. Here is a man who has heard the good news of God and joined the fellowship of believers. He has in some ways left behind his old ways, but he still desires to be the center of attention. He still wants to draw a crowd. And so when he sees the apostles laying hands on people so that they could receive the Holy Spirit, he suddenly wants their job.

So he runs over to them and throws down a bag of coins… “I want to do that, too!” he begs. “Give me that authority.”

The sorcerer believes the Holy Spirit is something to be possessed. The sorcerer wants a new bag of tricks for his show.

On the other hand, the eunuch has the Holy Spirit brought to him. We can see how she is working behind the scenes… leading Philip to take a certain road, telling him to walk alongside the cart. She has already been present in the life of this eunuch who is reading the scriptures, hoping to understand them. And so, when he hears the good news, and an oasis of water suddenly appears alongside their desert road, he asks – what would stop me from being baptised too? It is not a demand, it is a humble question of faith.

In our journeys of faith, sometimes we get jealous of what other people have – faith that seems so strong, a prayer life that seems so powerful. We often struggle with what we don’t have.

Maybe you have uttered the phrase, “I wish I could pray like so and so” or “if only we had a choir or a praise band” or “I wish I could read the scriptures like that person.”

There is nothing wrong with wanting to grow in our faith. There is nothing wrong with seeing what other people are doing and seeking God’s guidance about the ways we can live out our faith.

But in the stories of the sorcerer and the eunuch, we are invited to see that it is not what we don’t have that matters…. what matters is what the Holy Spirit has already brought into our lives. We can be so busy looking at what others have and what we desire that we can’t see the gifts right in front of us. One of the things that we will explore later this morning in our workshop is the idea that we don’t have to have a fancy choir in order to be faithful to God… we each have a voice that we can use, we each have a part to play in our time of worship. Just because we don’t have robes and lights and big voices does not mean that there isn’t a song to be sung.

The other major difference between these two characters is what they are hoping to gain through the Holy Spirit.

While the sorcerer had once been the center of attention, he finds that notoriety fading as a new player, the deacon Philip, comes on the scene. Suddenly, it is someone else doing the healing… someone else drawing the crowds… and the sorcerer himself is astonished by the power that the followers of Christ possess.

But as soon as he perceives the source of this power, he wants it for himself. He wants to again be someone that others flock around. He wants to have the magical ability so that he can carry it to some far off place and again be on the stage with people at his feet. Our sorcerer is a performer and faith is a tool, a prop, to get him what he wants. Or maybe its not even quite a cynical as that… Faith is now a part of his life – but he can’t quite give up his old ways and he transforms the faith rather than allowing it to transform him.

Notice, no where did I talk about a community, or a group… faith for the sorcerer was all about himself and what he could use it for.

On the other hand, our eunuch wanted to be included. He wanted to belong. He wanted to be a part of a community that understood.

Our text tells us that this African man was coming from Jerusalem where he had probably spent time in the temple worshipping. And yet, as a eunuch, the fullness of worship would have been closed off to him. He would only have been allowed into the Court of the Gentiles. Gary DeLashmutt writes that because of his social standing as a “sexually altered black man from a pagan country” doors were automatically closed for him. Who knows what his experiences had been in Jerusalem… how many times he had been turned away…

In spite of his standing in the court of the queen of Ethiopia… in spite of his wealth… in spite of all the power he could and did possess, the eunuch knew that he could not buy a place in the family of God. He knew that there were countless barriers in his way, but all he wanted to do was to belong.

In spite of the threat of further rejection, the eunuch persists and when he and Philip come to that small oasis of water by the side of the road, he asks a heartbreaking question: “What would prevent me from being baptized?”

He wants to belong. He wants to join in the fellowship. And he found in Philip a person who, according to DeLashmutt, “understood that his standing with God was based not on his ethnic identity, moral record, religious heritage, etc.—but through Jesus’ death alone… He understood that Jesus loved this eunuch and was able to give him new life just as he did Philip.” So he leads him down to the water and our eunuch is baptized.

Although our story says that he went on his way rejoicing, we do not know the end of his story. We don’t know where he goes or how his life and his faith continue in the story of God. But we know that want he wanted was to belong… and when someone finds true welcome, they in turn want to pass it on.

In the stories of the sorcerer and the eunuch, we find a performer desiring a stage and a person seeking a home. In their contrast, we are reminded that faith through the Holy Spirit is not about me or you, but about us.

Diedrich Bonhoeffer once wrote: “It is not you that sings, it is the church that is singing, and you, as a member… may share in its song. Thus all singing together that is right must serve to widen our spiritual horizon, make us see our little company as a member of the great Christian church on earth, and help us willingly and gladly to join our singing, be it feeble or good, to the song of the church”

Many of you are here because you have already found a spiritual home… you have found a community of people to join your voice to. But at some point in your life, perhaps you, like the eunuch, were searching for a place to belong and a song to sing…

There might not be anything in our text this morning about music, but we have talked about stories and bodies and hopes and dreams and who is welcome and what we want and all of those things have everything to do with singing.

As Colleen will share with us later this morning, music is powerful. It calls us into being as a community. It gives us a common language. Singing takes our whole selves – mind, body, and soul.

Don Saliers, a United Methodist pastor and the Director of Sacred Music at Candler School of theology writes: “through the practice of singing, the dispositions and beliefs expressed in the words of the hymns – gratitude, trust, sadness, joy, hope – had become knit into their bodies, as integral parts of the theology by which they lived.”

When we sing together, we are reminded that faith is about US not about me. When we sing together, we are taught again and again about the faith in our music. When we join our voices together in song, we are telling the world that we belong to God and telling God about this world that we care so deeply about. When we sing together, we are passing on the theology of our mothers and fathers to our children and our grandchildren.

Let us not be sorcerers who want to control and possess the power of God, singing by ourselves – or even worse, letting someone else sing for us while we sit back and watch.. but like the eunuch, let us humbly seek to join our voice with the song of faith that has been sung for so long. Let us celebrate the faith we have found, and like Philip, not be afraid to pass it on.