stewardship – Salvaged Faith

Return. Repair. Restore

Posted on October 31, 2021Leave a comment

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

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

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

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

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

They are about betrayal and reconciliation and forgiveness.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not once. Not twice. But three times.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Faith becomes about me, rather than we.

We see this when folks burnout.

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

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

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

Imagine if that is where those stories each ended.

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

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

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

They are about the restoration of dignity.

The restoration of broken relationships with our neighbors.

The restoration of our relationship to God.

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

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

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

Jacob is making amends for what he had stolen.

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

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

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

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

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

We simply work to care for one another.

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

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

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

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

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

Three questions follow their breakfast by the water.

Three opportunities to confess and proclaim.

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

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

Feed my lamps.

Take care of my sheep.

Feed my sheep.

Be about the work of the church.

Focus on what I have called you to do.

Love one another.

Be generous with what you have.

Forgive.

Repair.

Restore.

And you will find life and abundance.

Love God.

Love your neighbor.

Love yourself.

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

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

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

That burdens are as well.

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

May that story change our lives. Amen.

Let Go and Love

Posted on October 17, 2021Leave a comment

Text: Deuteronomy 15:1-2, 7-11; Matthew 19: 16-22

Over the last week or two, my husband and I have watched the first season of Netflix’s immensely popular Korean drama, Squid Game.

It isn’t a show I would recommend you run home and watch… it is incredibly and senselessly violent… but as I thought about our texts for this morning, I kept going back to the show’s premise.

456 players are invited into a game.

They are all drowning in debt.

Overwhelmed by what they owe.

And if they play and win six games, children’s games, they will receive the equivalent of $38 million dollars.

If they lose, they forfeit their life.

In an AP story about the series, Kim Tong-Hyung notes that the story is striking nerves in South Korea where debt is soaring:

“Many South Koreans despair of advancing in a society where good jobs are increasingly scarce and housing prices have skyrocketed, enticing many to borrow heavily to gamble on risky financial investments or cryptocurrencies. Household debt, at over… ($1.5 trillion), now exceeds the country’s annual economic output.”

You can’t help but notice those underlying concerns for a society on the brink because of debt as you watch Squid Game… televisions in the background of scenes echo these kind of sobering statistics.

And it isn’t just South Korea. Household debt in the United States just reached a new high at $15 trillion; the average debt among consumers is $92,727. This includes mortgages and student loans, as well as credit card balances… not all of which is unhealthy debt to carry. And yet the weight of those bills looms over us.

The players in the Squid Game are given a choice. They could live with the consequences of their debt or they could take a chance on a life where they would never have to worry about debt again.

But they would have to fight, and kill, and scheme their way to the top.

Unlike the show, where players are given a choice between life and death, scripture shows us a third way.

What if we were set free from the burden of debt… without having to harm or sacrifice or step on the lives of others?

If we go back to our text from Deuteronomy, that was God’s intention for human community.

Moses lays out what the ten commandments mean for their practical life with one another. We find instructions, laws, intended to help us love God, love our neighbor, and trust in God’s blessings.

And one of those rules is that every seventh year, the people were instructed to cancel all debts. Forgive the loan. Release the debtor. And if we read on through the end of the chapter, the call to set free any indebted servants or slaves.

This is because the burden of debt impacts not just the person who owes money, but their family for generations to come.

It impacts their dignity and their worth as a human being.

It creates classes and distinctions between us as people that are unhealthy.

As Lisle Gwynn Garrity writes in her artist statement, “the scheduled practice of releasing debts every seven years was designed to be both preventative and restorative. It prevented the wealth gap from growing beyond repair. It prevented systemic poverty from becoming strategic enslavement. It softened hearts turned cold and loosened fists clenched too tight. This practice of release reminds us that net worth is not synonymous with self-worth.” (A Sanctified Art)

I can’t help but think about the UAW strike at John Deere as I read those words. The reality is that there is a growing gap between the wages of workers and management. One of the primary concerns of labor right now is how to fairly share record earnings with employees and criticism over the drastic salary increases of the CEO.

Rules like these were intended to care for the dignity of each person and their relationship to the larger community.

But they were also a way to experience the continued blessings of God.

Just as God had set them free from the land of Egypt, so they were to set one another free.

Their communal economic life is to be rooted in freedom and stewardship and generosity. Rev. Pamela Hawkins writes, “Women and men are to embody God’s love for neighbors through practical, timely forgiving of debts and freeing of slaves, practicing a theology of liberation.” (CEB Women’s Bible, page 226)

And likewise, the people were called to be generous to those in need, lending freely to the poor. No matter if the person could repay. No matter if the year of jubilee was coming near.

The Israelites were called to freely give of their possessions, because as Elizabeth Corrie notes, “the land – and the wealth it provided – belonged to God. We show ingratitude when we refuse to share what was never ours to keep.” (CEB Women’s Bible, page 226)

We show ingratitude when we refuse to share what was never ours to keep.

Stewardship is the awareness that everything we have and everything we are is a gift.

A precious, precarious gift.

Not something to be hoarded but meant to be freely shared so that everyone we meet can receive these blessings of God as well.

But when we choose to play economic games that create winners and losers, the rich and the poor, slaves and owners… we have turned to a life of sin.

As Liz Theoharis puts it, it is, “…a sin against God if your brother or sister has to call out against you because you’re robbing their wages or because you’re not releasing their debts or because you’re making them slaves… the way you honor God is by how you care for yourself and your neighbor… There’s no way to be right with God if your neighbor is being oppressed.”

Which brings us to our text from Matthew.

A rich man approaches Jesus, searching for how to experience eternal, abundant life with God.

“Keep the commandments,” is Jesus’ answer… specifically all of the commandments that have to do with loving our neighbor.

Jesus doesn’t tell the man to say a particular prayer.

Or to focus on his own personal relationship with his Savior.

Jesus invites the man to take responsibility for the lives of his neighbors.

And while this man with many possessions replies that he has done this, Jesus pushes him further: “If you want to be complete, go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor. Then you will have treasure in heaven. And come follow me.”

You see, I don’t think we can separate this story of the rich man from our text in Deuteronomy.

He is living in a day and a time when the practice of Jubilee… the seventh year releasing of debts was not being practiced.

And yet, the reality of God’s intention for our human community remains the same.

Our economic lives and our spiritual lives are one in the same and we honor God by how we care for ourselves and our neighbors.

We honor God by being generous with the gifts we have received.

We honor God by being responsible stewards of what was “never ours to keep.”

We honor God by letting go of what we think belongs to us so that others might have life and life abundant.

And this man didn’t know if he could let go.

In preparing for today, I came across a wonderful piece by Leah Schade called “I want Jesus to Let Me Off the Hook: The Rich Young Man and Me.”

She describes what she wishes she found in this text:

“I can follow Jesus’ prescribed sequence in reverse! 1) Follow him. 2) get my heaven-treasure. 3) Give some money to “the poor.” 4) Sell off a couple of things I don’t want at a yard sale. 5) go happily on my way…

But it doesn’t work that way does it?” Schade writes. “Jesus was specific about the order of those verbs: go, sell, give, receive, follow.”

It is in letting go, in giving, that we receive.

It is in holding our wealth and our ways loosely, that we discover immense riches.

When we focus our lives on the needs of others, we will discover the path to God.

Or as Theoharis put it, we can’t forget the content of the good news Jesus came to preach: ” and that is release of slaves, remission of debts, and the year of the Jubilee.”

As we studied this summer, the first Christian community tried to live this out. They sold their possessions and gave it all to the community and there was no one in need among them.

They came to experience the joy of a life where the blessings of God were shared by one and all. A life where they truly loved God and loved their neighbors every single day.

They let go of class distinctions between the wealthy and the poor.

They let go of the power that money holds over their lives.

They let go of the shame of having too much or too little.

They let go and released it all and they rested and trusted in God’s blessings that poured into their lives.

Where do we find ourselves in this story?

We find ourselves in a world filled with debt.

A world with huge economic and social disparities between the wealthy and the poor.

In the final episode of Squid Game… and don’t worry, it’s not a spoiler… one of the characters ponders a life of poverty and a life of riches:

“Do you know what someone who doesn’t have any money has in common with someone with too much money to know what to do with?” he asks. “Living is no fun for either of them.”

But honestly, it isn’t just about the rich and the poor. We find ourselves in a world in which we do believe our self-worth is tied in with our net worth and so we have leveraged our lives to gain an illusion.

Or as Leah Schade points out… “most of us are just ‘desperately faking middle class.’ Many of us are just one disaster, one health crisis, one pink slip… away from losing everything…”

Because that is the thing, right… the lesson from Deuteronomy… whether we are rich or poor, the debtor or the collector, the slave or the owner… is all a twist of fate.

We find ourselves in a life and death struggle to keep moving up, everyone so desperately clinging to what we have, and frankly, it isn’t fun for any of us.

But there is another way.

What must we do to have eternal life? Real, true, abundant living?

A life filled with joy and treasures and community and grace and love?

e need to let go of the power that money holds over our lives.

We need to let go of our shame and our anxiety, our guilt and our greed.

We need to let go of the idea that the stuff we have will save us.

And while it isn’t going to be a popular idea… we need to release the people around us.

We need to let go of the idea that another person deserves to be poor or that someone has earned their wealth.

We need to set one another free from our debts and labels.

We need repent of how our economic practices have kept folks in generational poverty and have created divisions between us.

Because we were all slaves in the land of Egypt.

We were all formed from the dust of the earth.

We all have the breath of the living God within us.

We need to discover what it means to truly let go and love our neighbors.

Maybe then, we will discover once again the blessings of God that are so richly poured out upon us all.

For when we go to the world…

When we give all we think we possess away…

We will find the joy of abundant life.

Not just for ourselves, but for everyone we meet.

Amen.

Remember Enough

Posted on October 10, 2021Leave a comment

Text: Exodus 16: 1-18

Friends, over the next several weeks in worship, we are going to talk about how we connect our faith, our life, and our finances.

And while on one very practical level our stewardship time helps our church leaders to set a budget for the coming year, there is a much bigger reason that we take time every year to talk about generosity and stewardship.

Because even if we want to avoid the conversation, Jesus is very interested in what we do with our money and resources.

Your money story is a spiritual story and when we let God into this part of our lives, we find grace and love and transformation and joy.

Let us pray…

“Enough” by John van de Laar

Worry and stress are not hard for us, God,
We do them without thinking:

There is always the potential of threat
To our security,
Our comfort,
Our health,
Our relationships,
Our lives.
And we foolishly think that we could silence the fear
If we just had enough money,
Enough insurance,
Enough toys,
Enough stored away for a rainy day.
It’s never enough, though;
The voice of our fear will not be dismissed so easily.

But in the small, silent places within us is another voice;
One that beckons us into the foolishness of faith,
That points our gaze to the birds and the flowers,
That in unguarded moments, lets our muscles relax.
And our hearts lean into loved ones.;
In unexpected whispers we hear it,
Calling us to remember your promises,
Your grace,
Your faithfulness;
And, suddenly, we discover,
That it is enough.
Amen.

In the words that I just shared with you from John van de Laar, we hear echoes of the story that the world tries to tell us about money.

There is never enough.

We live with fear and stress and worry… and so much of that has been compounded by the pandemic and economic uncertainties and supply chain disruptions and… and…

There is always something out there with the potential to bring it all crashing to the ground.

Even in the moments when everything is okay…

When we find our footing…

When we have experienced a transformation for good…

We struggle to let go of the fear.

That is what we find in Exodus.

It is a story of a people who just a month and a half before were still in the land of Egypt.

They were living in “an economy of fear and deprivation,” writes Erin Weber-Johnson but God liberated them from oppression.

Can you imagine the joy and the freedom and the excitement of being able to write a new story for your life?

And yet they struggled to let go of their fear.

They were not yet sure what it meant to trust in God, they were already looking back upon their days in captivity with rose-colored glasses.

You see, they remembered that at the end of those days, they could sit by the fire and their pots were full and bread was plentiful… or at least it seemed that way in their memories.

They forgot that they could never produce enough to satisfy their oppressor.

Whether they lived or died, how many bricks they had to make, what materials they had to do so with… it was all based upon the whims of Pharaoh and their overseers.

The work was brutal and unending… or as Walter Bruggemann describes it “the endless rat race for sufficiency.”

Like livestock must be fed and equipment has to be maintained, the Egyptians knew they had to keep their workforce alive in order for them to work.

But it was never really enough.

The bare necessities of food and water… which the Israelites found themselves crying out for in the new barren land… are not enough

And to be honest, many of us experience this in our own lives, don’t we?

We work and we work, thinking eventually we might have enough money to provide for more than our basic needs… we work incredibly hard so that someday we might enjoy our life and by the time we get there we are too tired and worn out to experience it.

Our quest for “enough” is killing us.

Or perhaps your story is more like that of Pharoah.

We so fiercely guard what we have acquired that we begin to see outside forces as a threat to our power and position.

So we rail against taxes and we bemoan immigrants and we cry out about what belongs to us.

Or maybe it is far simpler… we hoard what we have without even being aware of the people we have impacted.

We have moved far beyond “enough”; filling our closets, and homes, and garages, and storage units with things and we cannot even remember why and we are too afraid or ashamed to consider the consequences of such a life.

Both of these stories are ruled by fear.

A fear that there never has been and never will be enough.

As Rev. Sarah Are writes,

Our anxiety is loud.

Our fear is loud.

Our anger is loud.

Our shame is loud.

Mental illness is loud.

Doubt is loud.

But there is another voice that is whispering in the background.

A voice that hovered over the waters of creation.

A voice that led the Israelites out of slavery with a pillar of fire.

A voice that promises not just to feed us, but to love us, to guide us, to give us rest.

When the Israelites found themselves in the middle of nowhere, utterly dependent upon God, it terrified them.

But that is precisely when God steps in and reminded them… I am enough. I will provide.

“At twilight you will eat meat. And in the morning you will have your fill of bread.” (Ex. 16: 12)

This food comes without requiring any labor other than stepping outside of their tent and gathering it up.

The only strings attached were that they didn’t take more than they needed.

If they did, it rotted and became infested with worms and stank.

OOF… Do you hear that… if we take more than we need it is just going to rot away.

And then, here was the kicker.

On the sixth day, they were told gather enough so that on the seventh they could rest.

God provided. God was enough.

You know, I got to thinking about that prayer that we say every single week in worship.

We ask for God to give us our daily bread.

Our manna from heaven.

And if you look at the Greek work that Jesus uses here it is: epiousios, which we understand to mean that which is necessary and sufficient, that which gives substance to our lives.

We are asking for God to teach us, shape us, remind us what truly is enough.

As we remember this story of manna in the wilderness, it wasn’t just about food.

It was also about learning who they were, who we are, as people who are loved by God.

It was about learning to obey God’s commands.

It was about learning to trust in God’s faithfulness.

It was about learning what it meant to share with one another.

And it was about learning to rest on God’s Sabbath.

And we are called to remember that our fears and our anxiety and what Walter Bruggemann calls “the endless rat race for sufficiency” (Money and Possessions), are never going to bring us enough.

We are called to remember God’s provision, God’s grace, and God’s faithfulness – not just with our minds, but to let these truths sink into our very bones and our daily existence so that we, too, will be shaped as God’s people.

You know… maybe the Lord’s Prayer should be our daily practice.

Our daily gathering of manna from heaven.

Our daily reminder of who we are and whose we are.

Because when we cry out, “give us this day our daily bread,” we are not simply asking God to make sure there is food on my table tonight.

We are asking for God to provide for all who hunger. To make sure that everyone has enough.

Those who hunger for rest.

Those who hunger for connection and relationship.

Those who hunger for liberation and freedom from oppression or addiction or worry.

We here at Immanuel believe that God is calling us to love, serve, and pray so that all who hunger might be fed by God’s grace.

We dream of a future where no one in our zip code goes to bed hungry at night.

We dream of a church where children and grandparents are growing together as they share meals and laughter.

We dream of a community where every need is met because we have so many volunteers at Immanuel willing to give of their time and talents and resources.

And that means putting hands and feet on this prayer and rolling up our sleeves and getting to work.

In our church money story, we can remember times we all rallied together to accomplish big things with God’s help – like when Faith Hall was built.

But with the uncertainty in the world today, stories of fear and scarcity and doubt start to creep in again.

We can get focused on making sure there is enough to keep the lights on and lose sight of God’s promises and faithfulness and who God has called us to become.

This fall, as our leaders wrestled with our goals for 2022, one step we knew we wanted to embrace was leading with mission. We want to be a church known for how we are reaching out to love our neighbor.

And so, we have a few goals related to that like focusing on a local 2022 Volunteers in Mission Trip, but we also discussed how we might have to adjust our own church money story to truly lead with mission.

We want to get to a place where 100% of our budget is supported by annual pledges SO THAT everything else that comes into our church, all of the other money and gifts that we receive can be given away.

We are trying to realign our own money story around what is enough so that we can turn around and bless our neighbors with everything else.

That is just one way that we are going to become the church God is yearning for us to be. A church where all who hunger are fed by God’s grace.

It is just one way that we are going to remember that God is enough. Amen.

Rejoice With Me!

Posted on October 25, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Psalm 98: 7-9, Luke 15:3-6, 8-9, 11-13, 20, 24, 28, 31

Every year, our congregation has a charge conference. It is our annual meeting to elect leadership, set goals for the future, care for those called into ministry, and more.
And it’s happening in just one week!
Next Sunday, November 1, we will have our charge conference online at 2:00pm. There will be a link on our website to join in, so be sure to check out the details and join us!

As we have been preparing for this meeting, I met with our Administrative Council Leadership and I asked them a question:
Do we have a future?
Now, that might seem to be kind of a stark and sobering question, but to be honest, there are churches out there that simply aren’t going to make it.
David Kinnaman with the Barna Group says that their research shows one in five churches are not likely to make it through this pandemic.
There are disruptions related to giving, the numbers who are able to gather, but also a lack of adaptation to the realities that are around us. I know of at least one congregation that simply has done nothing together as the church since mid-March. They have no online presence. They aren’t meeting outside. They are simply doing nothing.
So, do we believe we have a future?
Is Immanuel United Methodist Church going to make it?
When I asked that question in our Zoom Council meeting, someone immediately responded:
100% YES!
In fact, the energy level of our meeting rose as people got excited thinking about that future.
We talked about how we are providing connection and spiritual growth and it is something that people need now more than ever.
We talked about how new people have joined us online and during our evening vespers services and at our Zoo Day and how we are actually expanding our reach.
We were energized by the idea that what we are learning how to do together now is actually strengthening us for the ministry that God has planned for us.

You know, for months we have been focused on the moment….
This next week….
What we can do right now….
Analyzing the data so we can make the healthiest choices to do no harm….
We have changed on the fly….
We have created what is necessary to keep going…
And all along the way we have been trying to pay attention to who we are leaving out and missing and how we can do better.

When we were able to step back and step out of the fray of what is happening right now and look to the future, we were surprised by the sense of clarity and focus we had.
Because more than anything, this whole pandemic has helped us to home in on what is really essential and what is really important.
You see, there is a lot that we could do as a church, but there are really only a few things that we need to do:
• Keep our eyes on God who made us.
• Help people to know that they are not alone and that they are loved.
• Learn and share the good news of Jesus.
• Live out our faith by doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly.
We realized as we talked that not only are we doing those things, but we are actually doing them pretty well.
And we began to shift our mindset to realize that this is a season that we could see growth!
Not just growth in our numbers of people, but also growth in our love and knowledge of God.
Growth in our ability to respond to issues of injustice.
Growth in the ways we reach out to people that have been left out or disconnected.

And for the first time in a long time, it seemed like we really and truly had something to celebrate and be excited about!

We’ve been reading through Psalm 98 these past couple of weeks and today the end of the Psalm reminds us why we are rejoicing with all of creation.
It is because God is establishing justice on the earth.
So much feels troubled and broken, but the God who created it all is setting things right.
God sees the problems of this world and shows us a better way.
God calls us and equips us to be generous and loving and merciful and kind and honest so that all people… all the world… might be set right again.
I think part of the reason we have cause to celebrate is that what we see all around is that we actually have been following Jesus during this time.
We’re reaching out to the lonely and sharing our abundance with others and speaking the truth about the problems of this world and trying our best to respond with love and kindness.
We see evidence of how God is working through us to establish God’s will, God’s justice, right here and right now.
And the whole world rejoices along with God!

I was thinking about this idea of God’s justice and celebration and rejoicing when I read the parables of the lost in Luke chapter 15.
So often, we talk about them as if the lost coin, or the lost sheep, or the lost son were at fault in the situation. They rolled off or wandered away and when they repent or return home or are found, the rejoicing commences.
But New Testament scholar, A-J Levine invites us to flip the parable.
What if these instead stories were titled “The Shepherd Who Lost His Sheep” or “The Woman Who Lost Her Coin”? “The Father who Lost A Son”?
What if they are actually about the one doing the losing?
We might start to ask questions about whether or not we are paying attention to the people around us in our care.
Do we count who is present?
Do we notice who or what we have lost?
Will we make an effort to reach out and find them?

You know, this really came home to me when I thought in particular about that last parable of the father with two sons.
We always think about the first child who runs away and the great rejoicing and party when he is found.
But the second son is lost as well, right?
He is missing from the party.
The father in this story notices.
He runs out of the house and into the fields and meets him there.
The father begs for him to come in.
And the father reassures him: I love you. You belong to me and I belong to you.

That is what God does.
God knows who you are.
God sees who is missing and what isn’t working.
God’s heart breaks at the injustice and the disconnection and the harm we do.
And there is no length that God will not go…
No mountain God won’t climb…
No wall God won’t kick down…
Nothing that will keep God from establishing justice, wholeness, shalom, from making sure that God’s intentions are fully lived out on this earth.
Nothing can separate us, right?

And when even just one of us turns our hearts back to God…
or lets ourselves be found…
or experiences healing…
or is lifted out of our troubles…
or finds food and shelter or warmth…
oh… how the world rejoices…
How the rivers clap their hands…
How the sea roars…
How the mountains and hills sing together for joy…
What a day of rejoicing…

This church has a future.
And we have a future because we continue to keep our eyes on the God who made us through worship and devotion and prayer.
We have a future because we are paying attention to one another and we count and notice who is part of our community and are doing our best to reach out to help people know they are not alone and that they are loved.
We have a future because we keep the good news of Jesus at the center and we are learning and growing and putting that faith into action every day.
We have a future because we notice who and what is missing and we try to respond with food in our pantry and warm clothes for Joppa and by showing up at rallies in support of our neighbors… so that God’s justice, God’s intentions, God’s will might be done on earth.

Friends, there is a reason that our Ad Council got excited on that Zoom call.
It’s because when you see signs of the Kingdom of God, you have to rejoice.
When the lost are found, and the hungry are fed, and the sinners repent, and the lonely are surrounded with love… the whole world breaks out in song.

I’m so grateful for all of you.
I’m so proud of who you have been as the church in the midst of this difficult time.
And oh, how I can’t wait for that day when we can all get together… for real… with hugs and food and smiles and songs to celebrate in a fully embodied way all of the joy that is just welling up in my heart.
What a day of rejoicing that will be.

Symphony of Creation

Posted on October 18, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Psalm 98:4-6, Genesis 1-2, selected verses

Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth;
Break forth into joyous song and sing praises.

Can you hear the earth, the planet, the creation beneath and around us is bursting forth in song?
Do you hear the praise in the rustle of the wind in the trees?
Or the song of the birds?
Or the stirring of the crickets?

Many of us have spent more hours outdoors this year, walking on trails, taking bike rides, simply sitting on the porch.
When gathering indoors is risky, there is blessing in being able to take in a deep breath of fresh air and enjoying the world God has made.
It has been a great opportunity to take in the whole symphony of creation.
The interplay of sunlight and leaves.
The harmony of wind and wings.
The rhythm of footsteps.

I have read through the creation story in Genesis 1 numerous times, but it wasn’t until this past week that I was able to look upon it with fresh eyes.
I took a moment to focus just on the words of God in this text.
The commands.
The directions.
And I began to imagine God as a conductor, standing before an orchestra.

It was all a soup of nothingness, chaos, whirling, disconnected… like the sound of instruments as they each do their own thing, not paying attention to anyone else, but just on their own sound. No cohesion. No sense. No form.

But then the conductor raises their arms and begins to coax out unique voices and melodies…
Light!
Sky! Separate the water!
Land, appear!
Earth, green up!
Lights, come out!
Ocean, swarm!
Birds, fly!
Earth, generate life!

You see, God does not write solo compositions. God’s symphonies are complex and intricate. Each instrument playing its part, working together, creating harmonies.
Lyre and trumpets and horns…
Sunshine and cattle and fish…
They all have a part to play in the song of praise and goodness that God has designed.

And just when it appears to be finished, God adds one more part…
Humanity…
Us…
You and me…
Made in God’s image…
Reflecting God’s nature…
And God invites us to conduct as well…

I played the flute in marching band in high school.
Not only did we learn the instrumental parts, but we also had to learn our placements.
We had to learn to march and play at the same time.
We had to learn how to weave in and out of one another.
And although we couldn’t always see it, our patterns and movement created incredible forms and sound on the field.
But here is the thing.
Because of the direction we were moving, or our distance on the field, we couldn’t always see the conductor – the drum major – on the central platform.
And so we relied upon the other drum majors who were positioned a bit closer to us.
Their job was to keep their eyes on the central conductor and to keep in time with them.
Only then could all of us work together.
You and I…
All of humanity…
We are like those other drum majors.
Conductors with our eyes upon God, helping to shape the song of the universe.
Here is the thing I have learned about this song… this dance…
It doesn’t stay the same.
It moves.
It grows.
It changes.
Sometimes it soars triumphantly.
And sometimes it is a quiet whisper in the night.
As the world shifts and our situations change, the melody adapts as well.
You see, we are not called to inhabit only a singular tune.
We are called, to sing together.

Last week, I shared about how the Jewish faith found ways to continue singing, even though the melody had changed.
Sanctuary moved from the temple to the home.
The religious authority moved from the priest to the parent.
Prayer became less about sacrifice and more about an experience of God.
All around us, the melody has been changing and shifting and moving…
But friends, we are still singing.
And we are still singing together.

We transformed our week long Vacation Bible School into VBS-in-a-box and sent home packets of materials so that children of all ages could join us and learn what it means to be strong in the Lord.

We gathered to ring bells in a solemn memory of the lives that have been lost to Covid-19 – creating space for grieving and hope.
Whether you knew how to ring or not, all ages came together to help our neighborhood remember the lives of the people who have died.

Our Confirmation class adapted to a virtual format and continued to gather and learn together. They stood before the church in June to profess their faith and these amazing young people continue to offer their gifts through scripture and music and volunteering.
Bible studies and small groups have made a similar transition and we have lots of folks who are gathering to learn and pray and laugh together every single week.

We moved worship online and on the phone and recently outside. And in the process, we have found that there are people that we were not really able to connect with in the way we had done worship previously. Some of our homebound folks have felt incredibly disconnected, but now they are receiving a full order of worship and sermon each week in the mail. We have new people joining us online, and others connecting that have long been disconnected or moved away from our community. Each week, we have roughly 35 households connecting on Zoom, 40 on facebook, and 60 being reached through mail!

And, we’ve been able to take this opportunity to revitalize our organ so that when it is safe for us to gather together again, it is refreshed and restored and even better than it was before.
Your generosity continues to allow us to make decisions that are investing in the future of our church for years to come.

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”
Over this past year, we have widened our spiritual horizons.
We have learned a lot about what it means to be the church.
And what we have discovered is that it is less about a physical space or a building.
It is about the community.
It is about relationships.
It is about keeping our eyes fixed on God even though the way before us has been uncertain.
It has been about leaning into the songs and the scriptures that provide us comfort and remind us we are not alone.
It has been about hearing the call to live out our faith beyond an hour on Sunday morning… but out in the streets and at the food bank.
We have remembered our call to look out for our neighbors and to do no harm.
We have challenged one another to see the beautiful diversity of our world.
Has it been comfortable? Or easy? No.

But have we been faithful?
Have we done our best?
Have we kept our eyes on the conductor, the author of creation, the Lord of our lives?
That, I think we have done.
We have stretched and sometimes failed and tried again and kept working at the task that is before us.
The task that has always been before us.
To join our voices together in the song of creation.
To praise God and make a joyful noise.
Amen.

Singing in the Valley

Posted on October 11, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Psalm 23 and Psalm 98:1-3

In May of this year, my family gathered in northwest Iowa to bury my grandpa.
I stood in front of those loved ones and recited those familiar words of the twenty-third Psalm.
The Lord is my shepherd…
You know, we imagined that this was a temporary act of closure… a private graveside service that would give way to a much larger celebration of his life once the danger of the coronavirus subsided.
We are still waiting for that celebration.
I’ve walked beside so many of you through the valley of the shadow of death this year.
Your grieving, like mine, has often felt incomplete.

And I think part of the “incompleteness” is that there is so much to grieve.
There is so much we have lost…
So many we have lost…
So many ways of being that have been taken from us…
We have felt isolated.
Uncertain.
Alone.

And yet, we are not alone.
We are not alone in the sense that we are all going through this experience together.
And as a congregation, we are trying our hardest to help each one of you to feel connection in one way or another.
Whether it is a Zoom coffee time or a card from a child or a call from a staff member or a caring connection buddy, our hope is that you know that you are not alone.

But we are also not alone in the sense that the people of God have faced difficult times like these before.
We can often be so focused only on this moment in time, but if we zoom out and capture the larger picture of the biblical narrative, we find ourselves written into their stories.
Think of the ancient Israelites enslaved in Egypt…
Or the time of exile in Babylon…
Imagine what it must have been like to live through the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem by the Romans…
The heartbreak and disorientation, grief and doubt, suffering and loneliness…
We hold those things in common with these faithful ancestors.

And it was in those trying moments that the people of God needed to remember that they were not alone, because God had never left their side.
And they turned to songs like those familiar words of comfort from the 23rd Psalm.
This hymn is not simply a text for funerals.
It is something we pray when we are in the valley.
In the depths of despair.
When evil and death and enemies surround us.
It is a wilderness song.
Even the imagery of the shepherd, the rod and the staff, remind us of trouble:
After all, a shepherd’s rod would hold off predators;
A staff would hook around the neck of a sheep caught in a crevice or bramble.
It is a promise that in the midst of whatever difficulty we might face, God was there.
God is there.
God brings hope and comfort and restoration and hope.
It is a hymn, a poem, a song that we use to cry out from those difficult places and imagine a way forward…
Imagine the joy…
Imagine the abundance…
Imagine the possibility…
All by the grace of God.

I’m reminded of the words of Sandra McCracken as she explains what it is like to sing our way forward:

I wrote the title track for the album, God’s Highway, with a friend of mine, Thad Cockrill and playing through the song it was actually a really dark season for me. I was kind of in a fog. And as we were writing, I remember trying to write and express how I was feeling. Thad, very pastorally, said, “You know the old spirituals would sing not about where we are in the moment. Not ‘my feet are tired’ and you know ‘I’m in a fog,’ but ‘My feet are strong. My eyes are clear.’” This way of singing ourselves forward. Sometimes with tears, sometimes with defiance, sometimes with great celebration.

When we find ourselves in the valley of the shadow of death we have to find ways to sing our way forward.
Sing our way forward with celebration and with joy.

All of which brings us to Psalm 98.
Over the next few weeks, we’ll be exploring this hymn, this prayer, as we think about what it means for us to be “together for joy.”

And we start with just the first three verses.
Like Psalm 23, when we read behind the lines, we remember that life was not always so grand for the people of God.
Why else would we need God’s right hand and holy arm to bring us victory?
Robert Alter notes that this word, victory, is actually rooted in the Hebrew word for rescue, which reminds me once again of the Shepherd’s rod and staff. (The Hebrew Bible – The Writings, p. 231)
While the specific enemy might not be specified, we are singing a new song because God is the one who can rescue us from the chaos, the struggle, the uncertainty, the despair.
In the face of these enemies…
In the face of the nations…
In the face of all that would destroy us…
we experience God’s bounty, God’s abundance, God’s restoration.
It’s like a table, prepared for us, in the presence of our enemies.
Anointing and blessing and overflowing…
How could we not sing when we remember God’s marvelous love?
How could we not rejoice in the face of God’s kindness and faithfulness?

Praise lifts us up from the valley…
Raises our spirits from the mire…
Sets our eyes on the truth of who we are:
Beloved children of God.

“Praise is a ladder for our spirits, a gift to help us climb up out of the shadows and into the light to get a new perspective on things, if only briefly. Praise brings us back in touch with the truth of our situation.” (Together For Joy)

I love that line… praise brings us back in touch with the truth of our situation.
It reorients us.
It helps us remember what is precious and what is essential.
And that, simply, is God.

A couple of weeks ago, I attended the Leadership Institute through the United Methodist Church of the Resurrection.
One of our keynote speakers was Ronald Heifetz.
Now, if you have ever read anything about adaptive leadership in the secular world… Heifetz was probably behind it.
For nearly twenty years, he has been consulting and teaching about what it means to lead in the world today… especially in the midst of difficult circumstances that require us to build new capacity and change the way we operate.
What I really appreciated about this particular lecture, however, is that he shared from his own faith tradition.
Heifetz talked about how the Jewish faith adapted after the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem because of the leadership of Rabbi Yohanan ben Zakkai.
In this valley of the shadow of death, the Jewish people turned their eyes in praise towards God and discovered the truth of their situation.
They had to figure out what was precious and essential to their faith to carry forward.
They had to figure out what was no longer serviceable and needed to be discarded.
And that had to figure out what innovation would allow them to take the best of their history into the future.

Heifetz went on to talk about how the Rabbi helped the people to sing old familiar songs in new ways.
With the Temple destroyed, the sanctuary of God moved from a physical to a spiritual structure and became centered on the home. Wherever the family was, there would be a sanctuary.
The priestly functions were taken on by the parent in the home, who would recite the blessings upon the family.
Rabbis took on greater authority in interpreting the text for the time and place.
Prayer that was built upon sacrifice and petition became a matter of the heart and a personal experience of God.

In the midst of their crisis, in the midst of the valley, they learned that what was precious and essential was not the Temple itself, but their relationship with God.
The God who spoke creation into being.
The God who led them out of Egypt.
The God who had been with them through every valley and time of exile and trouble.
And that God was leading them into a new future.
Turning their hearts to praise, they knew they could trust in the marvelous things God had done… and would do… for them.
They discovered new ways of being together for joy.

In the midst of this moment in the life of our church, we are discovering what is essential and precious as well.
The love of Christ that binds us together.
The grace of God that overcomes our failures.
The challenge of the Holy Spirit that pushes us onward to the Kingdom.
We are discovering what old songs we can sing in a new way.
Next week, we’ll talk more about some of the joyful things we are discovering, but for today, let me simply say this:
You are not alone.
In the midst of the grief…
In the midst of the valley…
When you aren’t quite sure where you are going…
Fix your eyes on God.
Cling to the one who has never left your side.
And sing.

YES! We Are Able!

Posted on October 28, 2018Leave a comment

Text: Deuteronomy 8:11-18 and Mark 10:23-31

Last week, Pastor Lee from Women at the Well shared with us part of the story of the rich, young, ruler in Mark’s gospel.
This morning, we hear the second half of that story… the response of the disciples… our response… to the invitation Jesus offers this faithful follower.

Will you pray with me?

Over these last few weeks, we have been hanging out with the gospel of Mark and the challenging ways that Jesus calls us to follow.
Are we able to take up our cross and drink the cup of suffering?
Are we able to stand up for our selves or others?
Are we able to embrace difference and let others lead?
Are we able to see the vulnerable around us, especially children, and to see their gifts along with their needs?
Are we able to hear the truth about that one darned thing in our lives that keeps us from saying, “YES” with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength?

And after walking with Jesus through these chapters, I’m not surprised if we, like the disciples find ourselves frustrated when he tells us, “Children, it’s difficult to enter God’s kingdom!”
Whatever happened to, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light?”
Where are the promises that we will led beside the still waters and into green pastures?
Like James and John and Matthew and Andrew we cry out – “Then who on earth can be saved, Jesus?”

Because as must as we try, we find it awfully difficult to sacrifice our own well-being for the sake of others.
Fear keeps us from standing up for others or for ourselves.
Our need for control and stability gets in the way of our willingness to embrace and celebrate the differences among us.
We worry about what will happen if we let the kids run amok in our midst.
We are comfortable… oh so comfortable… with that one blasted thing that keeps us from standing in the life-giving stream of God’s love and grace and power.

Who can be saved?
Who is able?
Can anyone among us truly say, “YES?”

And then Jesus looks at us carefully. The Greek word here, emblepo, indicates that he is looking searchingly… clearly… directly into our very hearts….

“With human beings it’s impossible.”
We can’t do it.
There is nothing we can do or give or accomplish that will earn us a spot in God’s kingdom.
We are not able.

And that’s why the second half of Jesus’ words are so important:
“but… All things are possible with God.”

You see, our ability to be saved, our ability to enter God’s kingdom, our ability to follow Jesus, our ability to provide for ourselves or our families… none of it comes from us.
Nothing we are and nothing we have is the result of our own effort or striving or accomplishment.
It is all because of God.

As the early Hebrew community was told as they were being led out of Egypt, we need to remember, we need to never forget that it was God who rescued us from Egypt.
It was God who led us through the desert.
It was God who made water flow out of rock and sent mana from heaven.
It was God that led some people from Burns UMC out to a farmhouse on 49th Street to start a new faith community.
It was God that helped us lay the cornerstone for a new church to meet a growing worshipping congregation in 1968.
It was God that gave us the ability to build and pay for Faith Hall a decade ago.
It was God that has formed the faith of generations of children… who in turn have brought their children and grandchildren back to this place.
It was God that gave us the very breath of life and it is God that gives us the ability to work and to serve and to love and to follow.

Moses tells those Israelites in the desert – when you look around at your houses and your tables set full of food and when everything around you is thriving, don’t you dare think that it was your own strength or ability that accomplished these things.
Remember your God.
God is the one who has given us strength.
God is the one who has made us able.
God is the one who calls us… and then God equips us to answer, to follow, to say YES.

You know… I look out at the world on a week like this when evil and hatred and violence seem to be winning and I almost want to give up.
I don’t think I have the ability to stand in the gap.
I don’t have the energy to keep speaking out for the way of love and hope.
I don’t know how to change the hearts of others.

Do you ever feel that way?

But then, I come to worship.
I come to this place.
I hear these words of scripture.
I see your faces.
I sing with all of my heart these songs.

And I remember that it’s not all up to me.
It’s not my ability or skills or talents that will change this world.
But God can.
And God will.
If I just open up my life a little bit to let God use me.
If I set my fear and hesitation and need for control to the side and let God work through me.
If I place these gifts in God’s hands…
If I turn to others gathered here…
If we start with the things God has already given us the ability to do…
If we allow ourselves to be pulled, stretched, called…
If we count all of the blessings God has poured out into our life and if we just let go and trust…
God is able.
And God makes us able.

Able to give back.
Able to reach out in love.
Able to shine light in darkness.
Able to offer hope in the midst of despair.
Yes, Lord, We are Able…
And it is all because of You.
Thanks be to God… Amen.

Altars Everywhere!

Posted on October 22, 2017Leave a comment

Defiant Praise – John van de Laar
There are many doorways to cynicism, Jesus,
Many reasons for despair,
May causes for fear;
But there is no excuse for giving them ultimate power;
Not if we really believe what we claim to believe.

Resurrection is real, Jesus;
We have touched it, and seen it;
Our own lives bear witness to it,
And it constantly reveals itself in our world.
And so, in spite of the fear that nags at us,
In the face of the despair and cynicism that taunts us,
In denial of all that would seek to steal life away,
We offer you our love,
Our devotion,
Our lives,
As an offering of resurrection faith
And defiant praise.
Amen.

Over these past few weeks, we have been talking about what it is like to live in Scare City.
Our fear of not having enough or being enough made us want to build tall towers and make a name for ourselves.
Our fear of the unknown and what lurks around every corner kept us from stepping out in faith.
Our fear of those who are different – who live on the other side of the tracks – caused us to miss opportunities to share our gifts with them or to receive blessings from them.

Fear, scarcity, cynicism… these are all things that limit our ability to fully experience the life God has given us.
In our attempts to cling to what we have, we don’t allow ourselves to take hold of what is truly life.

Our scripture this morning comes from a letter written by Paul to a young minister named Timothy.
Timothy was having a tough time in his work. In many ways, he was living in Scare City, perhaps facing fears that he wasn’t good enough, he was too young and unexperienced; maybe he didn’t feel brave enough for what God was calling him to do.
Or maybe, he was a young pastor, sent to a church where everything was hunky dory and he was having a hard time helping the church to grow – both in numbers and in faith.
So Paul sent this letter as a form of encouragement that young man’s ministry and as a reminder of what was really important… and I’m finding it helpful and encouraging as well.
I think its important for all of us to hear this call to move out of our attitudes of scarcity and to move into a sense of God’s abundant grace and love in our lives.

Because, friends, that is our call.

We are called to dismantle all those symbols of fear and scarcity in our lives so that we can embrace God’s abundant, joyful, overflowing life.
In our worship space this morning, we have literally dismantled the scaffolding that symbolized over these past few weeks the towers we build, the corners, and the walls…
Instead, all of these pieces are now altar spaces of their own… filled with signs of God’s hope and love and mercy that pours out into our lives.
They are symbols of OUR resurrection faith and defiant praise of God in the midst of a world that so often seems scary and uncertain.

Paul’s letter to Timothy was filled with reminders of how he could shed those fears.
The instructions were meant to help him fight the good fight of faith and to take hold of the eternal life to which he was called and for which he made his confession.
Confession isn’t a word that we use every day in our faith tradition.
We confess when we have done something wrong or when we are sorry, but the way it is used here also means to confess what we believe to be true.
Jane Anne Ferguson reminds us that this likely referred to the confession that Timothy made in his baptism.
A confession that he was God’s child.
A confession that he would serve God and love his neighbors.

A confession not unlike the one that we make in our baptisms…

I’ve been thinking about those promises that we in fact made during our baptisms and how they connect with the fears and the scarcity that lurk on the edges of our lives.

[slides for baptism]
So often, the feeling that we are not enough and that we have to build towers to make a name for and protect ourselves… that desire to have more and more and more… well, those are the powers of consumerism and nationalism run rampant.
When our desire to earn and spend and save money becomes idolatrous… when our patriotism blinds us to our kinship with brothers and sisters of other nations… then it is time for us to remember our confession.
Will you let the Spirit use you as prophets to the powers that be?
We accept the freedom and power God gives us to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves!
That is resurrection faith. That is defiant praise. That is how we build altars everywhere in this world!

When our world is filled with jealousy, conflict, abuse, and rumors… when there is a constant state of bickering and violence shows up on our news every single day… when the threats of war and destruction loom over us… then it is time for us to remember our confession…
Will you turn away from the powers of sin and death?
We renounce the spiritual forces of wickedness, reject the evil powers of this world, and repent of our sin!
That is resurrection faith. That is defiant praise. That is how we build altars everywhere in this world!

Where there is division and anxiety over those who look different or speak different or come from different places. When we look out in judgment upon those who don’t have the things that we have or when we hesitate to see and name and celebrate the gifts of people we think are below ourselves. When we forget that we, like Paul, are completely unworthy of the love of God for us… well, then it is time for us to remember our confession…
Will you proclaim the good news and live as disciples of Jesus Christ, his body on earth?
We confess Jesus Christ as our Savior, put our whole trust in his grace, and promise to serve him as our Lord, in union with the church which Christ has opened to people of all ages, nations, and races!
That is resurrection faith. That is defiant praise. That is how we build altars everywhere in this world!

And we do so by going back to the basics. By remembering the faith of our ancestors. By using their struggles and blessings to guide and shape the way that we live our lives. We turn to those pages of scripture, like this letter to Timothy, to remind us of the calling that is at our roots. And so, we make our confession…
Will you receive and profess the Christian faith as contained in the Scriptures?
We affirm and teach the faith of the whole church as we put our trust in God, the Father Almighty, in Jesus Christ, God’s only Son, and in the Holy Spirit, one God now and forever.
That is resurrection faith. That is defiant praise. That is how we build altars everywhere in this world!

Like Timothy, we, too, have been called to a different kind of life.
We are called to “pursue righteousness, faith, love, endurance, and gentleness” (1 Tim 6:11) –those fruits of the spirit that we talked about all summer long.
Fight the good fight of faith…
Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and for which you made your confession.
Remember your baptism and be grateful.
Remember your baptism and be grateful.
Remember your baptism and be grateful.

Be grateful.
As 1 Timothy 6:6 reminds us, we are called to a life that combines godliness with contentment,
Gratitude and contentment are key and perhaps the only way we can truly move from a spirit of scarcity to one of abundance.
It is a reminder that we brought nothing into this world and we will take nothing out of it.
Paul urges Timothy to remember that those who desire to be rich and to have more get caught up in a cycle of self-destruction. Their lust brings nothing but trouble.
On the other hand, those who have wealth can become so full of themselves and obsessed with their money that it becomes a stumbling block to their faith.
As the Message translation puts it, “a devout life does bring wealth, but it’s the rich simplicity of being yourself before God…. If we have bread on the table and shoes on our feet, that’s enough.”

Bread on the table and shoes on our feet.
Friends, that is all that we really need.
That is what is important.
These are signs of God’s abundance that will transform this world.

Bread and shoes…

Bread on the table… a sign of the great thanksgiving and a reminder that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us.
A reminder of the abundant grace that has been given to us.
And a sign of the Body of Christ and how we are all united in this common mission.
And a loaf which is meant to be broken so that not just we… but others may be fed.
Bread symbolizes the ministries of our church where we praise God in our worship and we connect with one another around tables.

Shoes on our feet… because we have places to go!
Just as the first disciples were sent out into the world to baptize and teach and spread the good news, so we have been called to go from this place out into the world. After we have been fed by God’s word, we are supposed to share it.
We are supposed to carry it with us from this sanctuary so that we can transform this world.
Shoes symbolize the ministries of our church in which we teach and share the faith with young and old and in which we go and serve in places near and far.

Today… we have the opportunity to make our commitments for next year.
As a church, we have been deepening our vision and we believe that our love, service, and prayer in this world is meant to make an impact.
Just like bread is meant to be shared and shoes are meant to go out, when we deepen our engagement in this church and when we partner with others out in the world, things are going to happen!
You and me, right now, today, we are laying the foundation for the future ministry of our church.
And it will take all of us, making the commitment to personally engage in just a slightly deeper way for our church to grow and flourish and thrive.

If we are honest with ourselves… the foundation that we are laying today is not for us.
It is for the church of our children and grandchildren.
Some of us won’t be here in 10-20 years as our dreams for this place are being realized.
But for the sake of our children, for the sake of our grandchildren, for the sake of the neighbors all around us who are hungry and yearning for hope… we are called to this work.
We are called to fight the good fight.
We are called to do good.
We are called to carry this worship and word out of this place and bring light and hope and grace and mercy to all we meet.
We are called to be generous and to share.
And when we do so, we will take hold of what is truly life.

Thanks be to God!
Amen.