Image – Page 11 – Salvaged Faith

A Resilient Foundation

Posted on June 21, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Matthew 7:24-25; Ephesians 3:14-19

Who holds you up?
What keeps you from toppling?
In the midst of storms and fire and viruses and racism and accusation and conflict, how do you not fall apart?
When you are juggling kids and work and zoom meetings and the dog and the lawn needs mowed what are you supposed to do?

Consider the lilies, Jesus says just a handful of verses before our scripture from Matthew today… or maybe in our case, consider the trees.
How does a giant sequoia remain standing for not years, not centuries, but for thousands of years?

General Sherman is the world’s largest known tree and can be found in the midst of Sequoia National Park. As Lyons and Barkhauer remind us, it is:
“…not the tallest, nor the widest, nor the oldest, but don’t let the lack of superlatives lower your expectations. General Sherman is the largest by volume and by weight. A sign at the tree’s base states it could hold enough water to fill almost ten thousand bathtubs, and that it weighs about 1,385 tons. Estimated at 2,200 years old [my note – that’s older than Jesus!] – the tree is more than 36 feet across at the base and towers 274 feet above you.” (America’s Holy Ground, p. 201-202)

Think about what that single tree has withstood…
Earthquakes.
Wildfires.
Drought.
High Winds.
Humans.
And still it remains standing.

What can we learn from trees like this?
What lessons do they have to teach us?

I think the first lesson is that you have to have strong roots and a firm foundation upon which to stand.
Imagine the depth and the breadth of the structure that is required to support such an immense tree.
For millennia those roots have sunk deep into the rocky soil, pushing water and nutrients up the trunk to provide growth.
Without a strong foundation, it would topple over and collapse.

And we are the same way.
Without the foundations in our lives that give us support and structure, we, too, would collapse.
These verses from the gospel of Matthew come at the end of three chapters filled with instruction and encouragement about how we should live in the world.
The “Sermon on the Mount” teaches us what it means to be truly blessed…
That the Kingdom belongs to the hungry, the hopeless, and the grieving…
the humble, the harassed, and the peacemakers
Jesus tells us how to share God’s love with others…
And he stretches our understanding of the law so that it is fulfilled not by adhering to the letter, but the spirit…
He reminds us that it is not enough not to kill, we should not even be angry at one another…
That we should not simply refrain from adultery, we should not objectify others…
Turn the other cheek…
Love your enemies…
Stop showing off your faith for others and actually turn to God…
Don’t worry about yourself, but seek God’s kingdom…
Don’t judge others, but pay attention to the fruit you are producing in the world…

And then Jesus concludes this amazing teaching by saying:
“These words I speak to you are not incidental additions to your life… improvements to your standard of living. They are foundational words, words to build a life on.” (7:24 MSG).
These are not adornments or afterthoughts.
These are the roots.
This is the foundation.
This is the solid rock upon which everything else rests.
If these principles have not already formed the basis for our faith, for our lives, for our souls… then when the winds and rain and conflict and turmoil come our way… of course it will all fall apart.
Without a deep commitment towards others, a deep well of mercy and forgiveness, a deep sense that God is with us in the midst of anything we face, we will “become disoriented, unsteady, and unsure.” (p.203)
We will become angry and reactive and defensive when the winds of change or turmoil or conflict begin to blow.

And if that is how you are feeling in your own life… then we can start by shoring up those foundations.

We have to care for our own bodies and minds.
Just recently, we sent home to our families a “Guide to Self-Care” in the midst of this pandemic.
It contains very simple reminders of things we can do like get enough sleep, take time for friends, leave room for our feelings, and breathing.
There can be so much pressure and stress blowing in our lives right now and these simple things ground us in the moment.

We also can turn to and remember our own history and the people who have come before us.
Today, on Father’s Day, we are invited to remember the wisdom of our fathers and grandfathers and generations past who have taught us how to get through difficult moments.
From simple things like how they helped us to get back on the bike when we fell off…
To their own experiences with the civil rights movement, or how they responded to the polio epidemic, or how they kept going in the midst of a loss in their life…

Our forefathers, our ancestors, those roots of our family tree… they are a source of love and hope and strength during these tough times.

And then, we need to strength our faith foundations.
Turn to scripture.
Spend time in prayer.
Join a small group to re-center your faith.
Nurture the roots, the foundation, the ground in which you live and move and have your being.
That was Paul’s prayer for the church in Ephesus.
He was seeking to strengthen their faith and help them withstand whatever controversies or oppression they might face and so he prayed that God might give them strong roots in love.
He prayed that they would open their hearts and allow Christ to make a home there.
He believed that this would create a firm foundation of rooted and grounded faith. That it would build deep sustained roots would allow them to be able to grasp the width and length and height and dept of God’s love.
And he believed with these strong foundations, these amazing roots, that God could do amazing, miraculous, holy and wonderful things through the church.
That is my prayer for you, too.
That our own foundation and roots might be strengthen by one another and by God so that no matter what comes our way, our faith and our community will not topple.

But the other lesson that I think we have to learn from these trees is that what can appear to adversity can actually be the source of new life. We are learning that strong roots and solid foundations provide resiliency in the midst of storms that creates new opportunities.

I learned this week that giant sequoias need wildfires in order to continue as a species.
They are remarkably fire-resistant… some with bark up to thirty inches thick.
But more than that – without the intense heat of the fire, the sequoia cones cannot open to release their seeds.
Fire also clears away any of the clutter and overgrowth on the forest floor, creating space for seedlings to germinate and survive.

I think some of what we are seeing in our world today feels like that dangerous wildfire coming at us faster than we can run.
There is a lot of anger and frustration spilling out and we don’t know how to put it out or stop it or what to do with it.
But maybe it is a question of reframing.

First – where have I become afraid or anxious or reactive when I am actually more protected and safer than I thought?
Adam Hamilton reminds us in his book, “Afraid” that facts are more important than fear.
Taking the time to get the facts, to understand another perspective, to prepare yourself and create a plan… all of these are ways we can build up that think bark of protection that allows us to stand resilient in the midst of the turmoil.

Second – What is being revealed that we couldn’t see before with all of the clutter? As we notice things related to the coronavirus, or racism, or institutional and systemic practices… sometimes we get frustrated that they were not brought up or handled before.
But some things can only be seen in moments of chaos and conflict when everything else is cleared out of the way.
This moment has helped families to find respite from their busy schedules.
It has helped us to recognize the lonely and vulnerable who are our neighbors.
It has uncovered some of the problems with how we interact with one another we were too busy or distracted to see.

Third – we are seeing the seeds of this time and changes and new life and opportunities springing up all around.
Common sense reforms that make communities and police officers safer.
Real conversations about our history of racism.
We are building new ways of reaching out to one another like our caring connections groups.
Even online worship opportunities are impacting more people than we ever would have done had we remained within our walls.

God does not promise that wind and fire and turmoil and conflict will not come our way.
They most certainly will.
But God has invited us to claim a faith, to be grounded in love, to build our lives upon a firm foundation that can weather the woes of the world.
And with God’s help… with Christ living in our heart… with the Spirit providing strength… we lives we have built will not fall apart.
As Paul writes:
Glory to God in the church!
Glory to God in the Messiah, Jesus!
Glory down all the generations!
Forever and always.
Amen.

The Fragility of our Connection

Posted on June 7, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Philippians 2:1-8

Arches National Park is perhaps one of the most iconic and picturesque of the spots we will visit.
Three hundred million years ago, give or take, this land lay beneath an ocean. With the ebb and flow of the waters, salt deposits built up hundreds of feet thick.
Eventually, pressure turned some spots turned into sandstone. But as water eroded away the salt but not the harder rock, sandstone was left hanging over these empty gaps, leaving nearly 2,000 arches (America’s Holy Ground, page 31).

But as we mentioned as we began today, these arches are not sturdy or solid. Landscape Arch has seen a number of collapses and Wall Rock Arch fell apart one night in a huge pile of boulders in 2008.
They were formed under pressure and eventually pressure from the elements and human interaction will cause these connections to crumble.

When we planned this series, I wanted to focus on the strength of our connections, but I must confess that yesterday as I was thinking about this sermon I spent most of my day weeping.
Because the connections between us in this nation have never felt more fragile.
Because the tension in the air is palpable.
Because every post or story feels like to fans the flames of division.
And while I try to do better, and be better, I’m guilty of it, too, as I think about conversations I’ve had this week.
I so desperately want to be able to find words to make things okay, to soothe the wounds of our relationships, to seek peace, and there isn’t anything I can say.
I can’t make it better today for my neighbors who are black, indigenous, or people of color.
I can’t make it better today for my neighbors who are law enforcement.
There is too much that is broken and has already crumbled.
We can’t look away and pretend we didn’t see.
There is too much work that has to be done to acknowledge the pain and to hold one another accountable before we can even begin to live in peace.

This Sunday is Peace with Justice Sunday in the United Methodist Church.
Our Social Principles remind us that, “As disciples of Christ, we are called to love our enemies, seek justice, and serve as reconcilers of conflict. “ ¶165.C
As I have heard chanted at various rallies… not just this past week after the killing of George Floyd, but anywhere faithful people show up to seek change:
“No Justice. No Peace.”
As we state for this day, “…political and social turmoil can be caused by a number of issues including economic disparity, environmental degradation, gender inequality, racism and xenophobia, and illness and disease. If we want peace, we must be committed to disrupting these conditions and systems that perpetuate injustice.” (https://www.umcjustice.org/what-we-care-about/peace-with-justice)

Next week, our confirmands will stand up and claim their baptismal vows.
Not only will they take responsibility for turning away from their own sin and failings…
They will claim the freedom and power God gives them to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves.
We wrestled together with what that means, and all of their questions really got me thinking about what it looks like for me to claim that freedom and power, too.

What does it look like for us to resist those systems of injustice?
How do we begin?
How do we create the conditions for peace?
How do we seek justice?
How do we strengthen our fragile human connections?

There isn’t anything I can say in one sermon that can undo or fix systemic racism.
But we can talk about what each of us can do right now in our own personal relationships.

I found myself turning to Paul’s letter to the Philippians.
The church was experiencing a quarrel between two of their members – Euodia and Syntyche. We don’t know the details, but it had the potential to tear the church apart.
And so Paul writes to them these words… this is the Message translation:

“If you’ve gotten anything at all out of following Christ,
if his love has made any difference in your life,
if being in a community of the Spirit means anything to you,
if you have a heart,
if you care –
then do me a favor:
Agree with each other, love each other, be deep-spirited friends.
Don’t push your way to the front;
don’t sweet-talk your way to the top.
Put yourself aside, and help others get ahead.
Don’t be obsessed with getting your own advantage.
Forget yourselves long enough to lend a helping hand.
Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself…
he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave…” (Philippians 2:1-7)

When there is conflict and division in the world, the only way we can overcome it, Paul writes, is by putting ourselves to the side.
We have to start focusing on what is good for the other person.
We have to humble ourselves.
We have to stop and pause and focus on the love we have for Christ and other human beings FIRST.
That is the agreement that Paul is talking about… that we would agree in Christ. That we would agree to be like Christ. That we would agree to look upon one another with love.

I find it interesting in the message translation that Eugene Peterson uses the word “privilege” to describe how Christ emptied himself of his status as equal with God.
The Greek word Paul uses here, rooted in kenosis, describes what it means to divest yourself of what rightly belongs to you.
The only way that God in Christ Jesus could reconcile with us…
The only way that God in Christ Jesus could repair the broken connection with humanity…
The only way…
Was for Jesus to set aside his privilege and power and status and to become one of us.
And then, to set aside his life and to die for us.

Paul sees the division in that community, sees the conflict between these two women, and he asks them to be like Christ.
The only way we can have reconciliation and peace is if we let go of trying to be right.
We have to stop focusing on what is best for ourselves and start asking what is right for others.
I think it is important to note here that not all power and privilege is equal.
Jesus took on the status of a slave… and for slaves, for the oppressed, for those suffering injustice… there is no lower for them to go. There is no power to relinquish.
So part of adopting the mind of Christ is becoming aware of the systems in our society that have created differences in the way people are treated and the advantages they have.
We have to look at the ways inequalities are slowly but surely eroding the connections that we have built with one another.
How are our health systems, education systems, economic systems creating the conditions for life for our neighbors?
Where we benefit unequally from those systems, we are not called to dig in deeper, but to work to help others get ahead.

When Paul asks us to put on the mind of Christ, he is asking all of us to equate ourselves, to humble ourselves, to make ourselves lowly.
To walk in the shoes of those who have nothing left to lose.
To listen.
To learn.
When we live this way… putting others first, setting ourselves to the side… it has a transformative impact on the rest of the world.
As Paul goes on to write in the next verses, again this is the Message translation:

“Go out into the world uncorrupted, a breath of fresh air in this squalid and polluted society. Provide people with a glimpse of good living and of the living God. Carry the light-giving Message into the night…” (2:14-16)

We are to carry this mind of Christ with us everywhere we go.
In the letters we write to legislators.
In the attitude we strike towards those who disagree with us.
At the ballot box.
In the places we chose to shop.
With our families.
In the ways we stand up for those who are crying out for justice.

Think of yourself as Christ thought about himself.
And think of others the way Christ thought of them.
If we can start there, we have taken one step towards peace and justice.
And every step strengthens our connection.
May it be so. Amen.

Do you love me?

Posted on May 17, 2020Leave a comment

Text: John 14:15-21

If you love me, you will keep my commandments.

If you LOVE me, you will keep my commandments.

Do you love God? Do you love Jesus? My heart wants to say, YES!, I do! Of course I do!

I love God with all my heart, mind, soul, and strength! Don’t I? Do I? Do you?

If you love me, Jesus says, you will keep my commandments.

I think all of us are really trying to love Jesus, but if we are honest with him… and with ourselves… we are probably not keeping them, obeying them, living them as well as we should.

Maybe we should back up a step. What commandment?

Well, this passage comes from the gospel of John and just a chapter before, Jesus sits down the disciples and shares with them this last meal and he tells them:“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this, everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 13:34-35)

So…. If we love Jesus, then we have to love each other. And love each other in the way that Jesus loved us. I think we’ve been doing a pretty good job of that during this pandemic. You’ve been making phone calls and sending cards and checking in on each other. We’re making masks and picking up groceries and trying extra hard to be nice to the people we live with. We’ve taken care of each other as the church. And that’s a good thing.

But I also remember that John’s gospel is just one version of this commandment. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke’s gospels, Jesus tells us about the greatest commandment. A lawyer or a scribe comes up and wants to test him, so he asks what commandment in all of the scripture is the most important. What one law would sum up all the others? And there, we get some version of that phrase we know quite well: “You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.” (Luke 10:27, CEB)

This is where it gets a little harder. You see, our call isn’t just to love others in the church. Not just to love the people like us who do the same things as us. But to love our neighbors. Strangers. People we disagree with. Folks we can’t stand. Even when it is hard. Even when it is uncomfortable. Even when it puts our own freedom or lives on the line. Because that is how Jesus loved us.

These last few weeks, we have been exploring some of the resurrection stories of Jesus. Two weeks ago, we remembered how six of the disciples got in a boat to go fishing and Jesus showed up for the third time. When they dragged their catch to shore, there he was, waiting, with breakfast cooking on an open flame. But there is more to that story.

You see, after they eat, Jesus turns to Peter and asks him a simple question: “do you love me more than these?” Peter is a bit taken aback. He sputters out a response: “Yes, you know I love you.”

“Feed my lambs.”

It’s almost as if Jesus is pointing back to that conversation they had before his arrest… If you love me, keep my commandments. If you love me, take care of each other. If you love me, love your neighbor as yourself.

And it happens not once, not twice, but three times Jesus asks Simon Peter this question: “Do you love me?” And those three times are important. Because you see, three times, Peter turned his back on Jesus. Three times, Peter denied that he knew him. Three times, Peter chose to put himself before Jesus, before others.

Did Jesus turn away or cut him off? No… Jesus look at this imperfect, selfish, human being who finds it hard to keep his commandments… and keeps giving him another chance. Gave him the opportunity to redeem himself. A do-over.

We started out today thinking about whether or not we love God. Whether or not we are keeping the commandments. Whether or not we are loving others as much as ourselves. And we have fallen short. We haven’t always put that love into action. We’ve been selfish. We are human. And God keeps reaching out to us.

Today, you have a chance to show you love God by keeping his commandments. Whatever happened yesterday is in the past and if you offer it up to God it is forgiven and wiped clean. TODAY you can love God with your whole self by loving your neighbor as yourself. EVERY DAY you get a chance to start anew.

You know, here at Immanuel, when we talk about what it means to follow Jesus, what it means to be a disciple, we like to use three little words. Love, Service, and Prayer. In a way, it’s kind of how we sum up that great commandment. In everything we do, we try to make love, service, and prayer part of it. At the food pantry…. At Wednesday night supper… In small groups… In music rehearsals…In our interactions at school or work… Everywhere we go and in everything we do.

Today, we are marking the closing of another year of school at that means we have some high school seniors who are graduating. And one of the things about these young people is they get it.

They know who God is and they each, in their own way, are out there loving others and serving their neighbors, and prayer is an important part of who they are. And some of that is because they have amazing parents who have helped them to grow in their faith. But another part of that is because of you, the church. You’ve lived out what Jesus commands us in John.

[image of kindergarten bibles for Peter, David, Laurel, Ana, Rachel]

From the time they were knee high, you have been part of their lives, helping them to love, showing them how to serve, joining them in prayer. So thank you, for being a part of their journey…

Behind Closed Doors

Posted on April 12, 2020Leave a comment

Text: John 20:18-20

Almost every Easter, we focus on the tomb.

We focus on the women.

We spend all of our time and attention on that glorious moment when they discover the tomb is empty and Jesus is alive and they have a story to tell.

But this morning, I want to focus on the rest of the disciples.

As my friend, Rev. Allison Lanza, reminded me a few weeks ago, the rest of the disciples were not at the tomb.

They were not in the garden.

They were not taking risks and bringing oils to honor the body of their Lord.

As Rev. Lanza wrote,

“On the very first Easter the disciples were locked in their house. It was dangerous for them to come out… They were living in a time of such despair and such fear. If they left their homes their lives and the lives of their loved ones might be at risk.”

Only a few of us are able to gather here at this empty church to lead worship for this morning… just like only a few ever gathered to witness the empty tomb.

The rest of the disciples… the rest of the church… the rest of the faithful…

Well, you are home.

You are home where you are safe.

You are home where you are doing everything you can to protect your loved ones.

You are home because it is dangerous not just for ourselves, but for our vulnerable neighbors as well, to go out.

It is not irrational fear keeping you home… but very real concerns and worries and sensible measures that we need to take to care for one another.

This year, we may not be dressed up in fancy clothes and crowding into the pews.

One of our biggest disappointments might be missing out on that beautiful and delicious Easter Breakfast put on by VIM.

We aren’t watching the kiddos squeal and run past each other finding eggs and crashing after eating all the candy.

But maybe what we are experiencing this year is a glimpse into what that very first Easter was like for those who followed Jesus.

It wasn’t about candy or food or clothes.

It was a group of people who were grieving and lonely and scared.

They were heartbroken and frustrated.

Everything they had planned and all of the possibility vanished on the cross.

They were desperate for a glimmer of hope, a hint of good news, a ray of possibility.

We don’t have to imagine what that was like.

We are living it.

We have loved ones who have tested positive for Covid-19 and you are worried about them and unable to go visit.

We are longing for connection and know you shouldn’t risk it.

We are grieving people in our lives that we have lost but have been unable to go and properly mourn.

All of the plans that we had for this spring… concerts, games, graduation, weddings… heck, even simply barbeques or camping trips or playdates…

In the blink of an eye it was gone.

Postponed indefinitely.

We are desperate for a glimmer of hope, a hint of good news, a ray of possibility.

I have to be honest… somewhere early in the midst of this crisis, I suggested that we postpone Easter.

I just couldn’t wrap my head around Easter with the church filled up with people.

I couldn’t imagine laughing and singing and praising God and shouting CHRIST IS RISEN… without having all of you shouting it back to me.

And Easter is technically a moving holiday… we celebrate it on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the Spring Equinox… which is another way of saying, it doesn’t matter what day it is.

So I got this idea that we should just wait and sit in Lent for a little while longer and postpone Easter until that Sunday when all of us could gather and hug and sing and shout and stuff our faces with food.

But then I realized… this was not going to be a delay of a week or two.

And maybe more than ever we need a glimmer of hope.

We need a hint of good news.

We need to see that ray of possibility.

Easter wasn’t cancelled or postponed or forgotten because the disciples were huddled together, shut behind locked doors, closed off to the world.

Easter wasn’t limited to the few people who were able to gather at the empty church… I mean tomb… on that morning.

Easter wasn’t simply a rumor or a story told by others.

And you know what, that first Easter wasn’t even something the disciples had to risk their own lives to go out and experience.

No, John tells us in his gospel account that even there amid the apprehension and uncertainty and fear, the miracle of Easter showed up.

The resurrected Jesus somehow slipped passed those dead bolts and latches and stood among them.

Right where they were.

In the safety of their homes.

God-with-us… Immanuel.

On Easter Sunday, there were a few who were called to go out and proclaim the story.

In some ways, I resonate with Mary, tasked with bringing the news from the empty tomb to share it with all of you.

But not everyone could.

Not everyone was safe.

Easter was for them, too.

I don’t know what your Easter will be like this year, but here is one thing for which I am certain.

God is with you.

The Lord of Life is with you.

The Hope of the World is in your midst.

And when he showed up with those first disciples in their homes, the first words he uttered acknowledge their… our… difficult reality.

“Peace be with you.”

He didn’t scold them.

He didn’t open the doors and push them out into the world.

Jesus offers a word of reassurance.

He simply offers peace.

Peace unlike any else that the world gives.

A breath of the spirit that reminded them of the words spoken just days earlier as they gathered around the table in the upper room.

“do not Let your hearts be troubled and do not let them be afraid.” (John 14:27 NRSV)

“In the world you have distress. But be encouraged! I have conquered the world.” (John 16:33 CEB)

We sometimes think about peace as a calm.

Or as the absence of war.

But the Hebrew use of peace was an all-encompassing word of complete and total well-being.

It meant salvation.

It meant being “uninjured and safe, whole and sound.” [1]

Jesus stands in their midst, wounds still visible, and yet he reassures them that all is whole and well and that his earthly work among them is complete.

Jesus is our peace.

He is our shalom.

Through him, we are restored to God…

We are restored to one another…

And we are sent forth to restore the world…

My prayer for you, today, is that that same peace would show up in your homes.

That the Easter blessing of peace might find you wherever you are.

I pray that in spite of everything, you might be able to breathe in that gift of peace.

The apostle Paul knew a little something about being under house arrest, imprisoned, unable to go out and visit and care for those whom he had grown to love.

But even in a prison cell, the peace of Christ was with him.

And so his words to the people of Philippi, I share now with you.

⁴Rejoice^[^c^] in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.^[^d^] ⁵Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. ⁶Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. ⁷And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Wherever you are this morning, friends, let that Easter gift of blessed peace fill your lives. Amen.

[1] https://www.efca.org/blog/sunday-resurrection

An Act of Holiness

Posted on April 9, 2020Leave a comment

Text: selected verses from John 13

Never before in my life have I thought so much about washing my hands… how about you?

I mean, I washed my hands before… and I hope you did, too…

But never before did I see it as such a holy and important act.

A life saving act.

In the midst of this pandemic, washing our hands so frequently is flattening the curve.

It is giving our health care workers a fighting chance.

It is protecting the vulnerable in our midst.

Never before in our lifetimes was hand-washing such an act of service to our neighbors.

An act of service and humility and love just like Jesus shared with the disciples when he got down on his knees and washed their feet.

In the midst of Peter’s protest, he reminded them that this is not just an act of hygiene… not just something that he was doing to make them clean…

It was an act of holiness.

It was a means of grace.

It was a sign of love.

So tonight, gather at your table and to eat your supper and think about our call to love…

But before you do that.

Before you eat.

Take a moment and wash your hands.

If you are gathered with your family, crowd together around the sink and wash each other’s hands.

And as you wash your hands, think not just of hygiene.

Think not just of scrubbing germs away.

But remember that this is a holy act.

An act of love and service and humility and grace.

You Have Everything You Need

Posted on March 22, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Mark 6:34-44

This week, all of our lives changed.

I’m not just talking about this congregation…. Or people of faith… but everyone… everywhere.

Our lives were turned upside down.

We have had to stop.

Stay home.

Make adjustments.

For some, these are minor inconveniences.

For others, the impact of the coronavirus threatens their physical or financial wellbeing.

While our leadership here at the church has been busy putting into action plans that will help us to connect and care for one another, I’ve also been doing a lot of praying for our neighbors.

I’ve been thinking about people who don’t have a community of faith to encourage them or check in or point to hope during this time.

Our vision as a church is to be out there in the world, loving, serving, and praying, so that all who hunger might be fed by God’s grace.

So I’ve been asking… where is there hunger in our world right now?

How might we be called to respond?

In Mark’s gospel, Jesus looks out upon the crowds… the multitudes… the neighbors and strangers all huddled together and has compassion on them.

He aches in his very core for these people who are hungry for a word, a touch, a glimpse of something new.

So he stops everything he was about to do and teaches them.

Spends time with them.

Connects with them.

You know… he does what Jesus does.

After a while, the disciples start to notice their own stomachs growling.

It had been a long day.

Their own hunger and exhaustion and stress and concern was all they could think about.

“Send the people away,” the disciples urged.

“Let them figure something out for themselves.”

“That way we can figure out what to do for ourselves.”

It makes sense, right?

We’ve all been told to put on our own oxygen mask before we put one on someone else if we are flying.

We’ve all been told that we can’t continue to keep giving and giving and not take time to stop and refill our cup, too.

After all, this whole story begins with Jesus and the apostles in a worn out tired place.

They had just gone out to do a whole lot of ministry and had just returned.

In verse 30, it says that so many people were coming and going that they had no time to eat!

So Jesus invites them away to a quiet place to rest for a bit.

Only… when they get there, that’s when they get overwhelmed again by the crowds.

What is a weary disciple to do?

Jesus answer surprises us: Look at what you have.

Look at who you are.

Take stock of it all.

You already have everything you need.

Or rather… what you need, is what they need.

You are not different from them, or separate from them.

There is no “them” at all.

It’s just all of us.

Right here.

All stuck in the same place with the same needs.

So whatever we have to take care of ourselves, it’s good enough to share with everyone else.

What is the hunger of the world right now?

What are the needs in our community?

What are people longing for?

Well… what do you need?

Because… honestly… they are probably the same.

On a normal day… all we really want is to feel loved, accepted and comfortable in our churches. We want to grow in our faith.

In these kinds of times… those things are mostly true, too, but we also have some other needs.

Peace in the midst of anxiety.

Groceries in a time a social distancing.

Connection when all around us is isolation.

Stability when everything feels uncertain.

And what are the resources we have to meet those needs?

Well, we have words of comfort in scripture… but also things like prayer and breathing deep and the ability to turn off the news and watch the birds sing.

Some of us have the ability to go out and shop or order things online.

We have phones and cards and computers to build connection in new ways.

We have a firm foundation in God that we lean on in times of stress.

Those are our loaves of bread and fish.

And we could use them all to take care of ourselves… which we’ll do…

But what would it look like to place them in God’s hands and let these small simply things abundantly multiply and spill over and feed not only our bodies and minds and souls, but that of our neighbors as well?

In our study and prayers around “Unbinding Your Heart” and “Unbinding the Gospel” the fourth chapter and week is all about what people outside of our churches need.

And it’s really simple.

They want to know that they are loved by God and that the church loves them.

That’s it.

And most people, our book tells us, are open to becoming part of a faith community during a time of change in their lives.

At a time when they were seeking and open for something different.

A time… maybe not unlike now.

It’s why the crowds of people had gathered there in that deserted place to meet Jesus.

They were already looking…

Already seeking…

Already longing…

Already hungry…

As we take stock of our resources and check in with one another and build new online connections, I think that the very things we are going to be doing and starting are exactly the kinds of things that our neighbors outside the church are looking for, too.

I kept thinking about how we are putting together church groups so that we might connect and care for one another over the coming weeks and months.

And about the online opportunities we are starting.

And I realized that my neighbors, Cheryl and Ann, probably need the exact same thing.

They are an older couple and don’t get out much anyways and already experiences some isolation.

So I just walked over to their house and left them my phone number.

I told them that if they need someone to pick up groceries, to give me a call.

If they feel stuck inside, give me a call.

And maybe next week, if I get braver, I’ll invite them to join us online for worship.

We already have everything we need to share with others during this time.

We’ve got the love of God in our heart.

We’ve got a peace that passes all understanding.

We’ve got phones and computers and cards and pen and crayons to make connection.

We’ve got time… blessed time… to work on our relationships.

All we need… all that any of us hunger for… is to know that we are loved.

That we are not alone.

That someone is thinking about us.

Watching over us.

What a better way for us to go out there and be the church…

To let loose the good news of God on this world.

To share it with everyone.

Deeper Water

Posted on March 8, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Matthew 18:18-20, Luke 5:1-10

I’ll often come across a quote or a few paragraphs in a devotional that I’ll save for later, thinking – Ahh! This will make a good sermon illustration!

Today, as we think a little bit about diving into deeper water in our prayer lives, I remembered a story told by the seventeenth century French mystic Jeanne Guyon in her book, “Experiencing the Depths of Christ.”

But before I get to her writing, a little about Madame Guyon herself.

She grew up very religious, spending much of her childhood in a convent until she was forced into an arranged marriage at the age of 15.

By the age of 28, Madame Guyon was a wealthy widow with three surviving children.

But the piety of her youth was what drove her and she continued to have mystical experiences of God. She felt called to share these teachings and eventually left her children into their grandmother’s care and left behind most of her personal possessions to do so.

At one point, Guyon was imprisoned for her teachings on prayer, which focused on constant prayer and inward stillness which brings us into the presence of God. Her writings were considered heresy at the time because they prioritized stillness over vocal prayer and pious action.

So imagine this woman, who has not had an easy life. But through it all, she believed God was with her in the midst of her trials and suffering. Madam Guyon wanted others to experience the depths of a relationship with God that she herself had found.

She tells the story of a traveler who has embarked on a long journey… a quest of sorts. But when the man comes to the first inn along the way, he stops there and remains there forever.

Why?

“He has been told that many travelers have come this way and have stayed at this very inn; even the master of the house once dwelt here… Oh soul! All that is wished for you is that you press toward the end… Only remember this: Do not stop at the first stage.” (Guyon, Experiencing the Depths of Jesus Christ)

Do not stop at the first stage.

I wonder how many of us have stopped at the first stage of our prayer lives.

We recite the Lord’s prayer.

We have a few prayers we turn to before meals.

We might even have a daily devotional we pick up a few times a week that includes a prayer at the end of every reading.

But for many of us, we pray in much the same ways we did as children.

We learned some of the basics of prayer and then stopped at that stage along the way.

We forgot about our destination, what we were striving for in the first place: a life spent in the presence of God and a faith connected with the power of God.

While we spend a lot of time thinking about the prayer that Jesus taught us, we forget what else Jesus taught us about prayer.

Ask and it will be given to you.

Seek and you will find.

Knock and the door will be opened (Matthew 7:7-8 and Luke 11:9)

If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can move mountains… nothing will be impossible (Mt 17:20)

If we ask for anything in agreement with God’s will, God listens to us… we know that we have received what we asked from God. (1 John 14-15)

And from our gospel reading today:

What your bind or loosen on earth will be bound or loosened in heaven.

When just two of us get together and pray about something, God goes into action in response. (Matthew 18:18-19)

If we pray… stuff will happen!

Not little stuff… BIG. GIGANTIC. POWERFUL. MOUNTAIN SIZED stuff!

That’s what scripture tells us.

That’s what Jesus keeps reminding us.

Prayer is powerful.

So why is it such an after thought?

Even in the church, this institution dedicated to the teachings of Jesus, prayer seems to be icing on the cake, rather than the main course.

Think about our typical response to things.

When we see a problem or we have a goal, we create a team!

We have meetings and we plan and organize and we get approval.

And then we work.

We work our tails off trying to make something happen.

And at the end of the day we find ourselves so busy and exhausted and barely one step farther along the way.

Maybe, MAYBE, we had a devotion and a prayer at some step along that journey.

But not always. And not often. And not primarily.

Martha Grace Reese reminds us that churches are not declining or struggling because we are lazy.

We work really hard.

Maybe the problem is that we aren’t praying as much as we work.

In Luke’s gospel, Simon and James and John found themselves in this very situation.

They were hard workers.

They had been up all night and put in the hours.

And yet, they had nothing to show for it.

Until they listened to Jesus’ invitation to go a little deeper.

To row out a little farther.

To push beyond what they had always done.

Was it simply that there were more fish out deeper in the water?

Surely, that can’t be it… for they knew these waters like the back of their hand.

Was it that they just put in more hours of work?

A whole nights worth of effort didn’t accomplish what miraculously came in through one toss.

No, what changed is that they had spent some time with Jesus.

And they listened to what Jesus asked of them.

In “Unbinding the Heart,” Reese shares the story of the Benton Street Christian Church and their evangelism team.

As they got started in their work, Reese asked them to not make any decisions for three months to but simply spend their time in prayer.

This was incredibly difficult for this church full of do-ers and they got frustrated that the only thing they could report was that they were praying… but they did it.

They got together and prayed.

They prayed between meetings.

They prayed every day.

They got teased a little… but then they started getting prayer requests.

And by the time their three months of prayer was done, they had vision and energy and direction and one month later had fifty people involved in the ministry.

As one of the volunteers later said, “It was incredibly difficult for these four ‘can-do’ women to wait in prayer… a year and a half later, all four of us would say our prayer lives have been permanently impacted by this experiment… the entire church is still being impacted by this willingness to risk praying first.” (p30)

Isn’t that a funny phrase…. To risk praying first?

What risk is there in praying first?

What risk is there in stopping to ask God to be present and to guide our work?

I’ll tell you what the risk is…

Something might happen.

Something might change.

And it just might be us.

Richard Foster once wrote, “prayer is the central avenue God uses to change us. If we are unwilling to change, we will abandon prayer as a noticeable characteristic of our lives.”

Or to put it another way, if we are content with the status quo, we are probably not people who turn to prayer a lot in our lives.

The opposite is also true.

If we believe God is active in the world…

If we see that something needs to change…

If we want to transform our very way of being in the world…

Then prayer has to be part of the process.

It is key to the journey.

It isn’t just one stop along the way…. It is the very road beneath our feet.

Two weeks ago, our church leadership team thought together about the work we have before us this year and the role and responsibilities each of us will play along the way.

One of the things that we focused on was our vision statement.

Can we read that aloud together?

Through personal engagement in and partnership with our community, we will live a life of love, service, and prayer, so that all who hunger might be fed by God’s grace.

We’ve been working hard on making this happen.

We try to create opportunities for people to personally engage and reach out to our partners like CFUM and Women at the Well and Simpson Youth Academy.

We focus on physical hunger through our food pantry and meal programs.

We reach out to meet that hunger for connection and relationship.

But do you know what we haven’t done.

We haven’t invited all of you to pray about this vision.

We haven’t stopped to ask God to help us accomplish this work.

As much as we talk about love, service, and prayer… as much as we even practice intercessory prayer for one another’s joys and concerns… we have not prayed as a community for our work together as a church.

It’s almost as if we took all of the power of God to bring fruit and change and life to our congregation and we locked it up in a box.

Today… let’s set the power of prayer free.

Let’s let the good news of Christ loose on the world.

Let’s turn this work over to Jesus.

Just as Christ urged Peter, James and John out into deeper waters, this next week, each day you’ll get an email inviting you to pray for Immanuel.

Not just for our people.

But for the vision God has given us.

For the work before us.

Let’s not stop at the first stage.

Let’s not be content resting before our journey is complete.

But together, let us keep pressing onward, deeper, out into that place where the presence and power of God can truly change us and this world.

May it be so. Amen.

Getting Off the Mountain

Posted on February 23, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Exodus 24:12-18, Matthew 17:1-9

There are a number of places in scripture where the divine is revealed in those thin places where heaven and earth meet.

I think about Elijah hiding on the side of the mountain.

Or when Moses heads up the mountain and receives the word of God for the people.

Or our reading from the gospel today when Peter, James, and John travel up to the mountain top with Jesus.

You know… I was thinking about Moses’ time up on the mountain and this renewal leave that I just finished.

Moses took this time to head up the mountain and spend some time with God.

This is actually a story that we’ve looked at this past fall with our Bible study groups on Wednesday’s and one of the things we discover if we read ahead a few chapters is that the people started to get worried that maybe he wasn’t coming back!

Forty days and nights go by and for all they knew, Moses had been engulfed by the cloud and the darkness on the top of the mountain and they were on their own!

In fact, Moses only comes back in chapter 32 after they discover that the people down below have begun to rebel – forming a golden calf and offering sacrifices.

Well, good news friends… I’m not back because I’ve heard you were misbehaving!

But these mountain top experiences were all surrounded by something really hard.

They came in the midst of stressful and difficult times of ministry.

Persecution.

Exodus.

The first prediction of Jesus death and suffering.

They are transition moments that remind each of these people who God is… and who they are.

They remind them that God is there.

They remind them they still have a job to do.

And in many ways, that is what my renewal leave has been about.

In the midst of the mounting pressure and stress of our denominational life…

In the midst of staffing transitions…

In the midst of some personal relationship struggles that I needed to focus on…

This set-apart time to breathe, and sleep, and focus on God and finding a new balance and rhythm in my life has been so important.

So many of you have been asking already, and so that I don’t repeat myself a hundred more times… my work on renewal leave was pretty simple.

I completely disconnected from email and the constant call of social media.

I spent time every morning reading – scripture, books, resources to help ground myself in God.

I spent hours talking and cuddling with my spouse.

I hiked in the snow.

I didn’t set an alarm for an entire month.

I laughed a lot with friends.

I listened to the birds.

I made some really good homemade bread.

I had the opportunity to really drink deep from the living water and to fill my cup back up for the season ahead.

And I am so grateful that you have been supportive of this time away.

But in some ways, I also have a new insight into how Peter, James, and John felt at the top of that mountain.

They had been following their teacher for quite some time now and they had witnessed some pretty amazing things.

But they also had just learned how difficult the journey was going to be.

They were starting to experience push-back.

And Jesus had just shared with him for the first time that he expected to be executed.

He was calling them to lose their lives, too.

This trip up the mountain must have seemed like a welcome respite from the stress and strain of this work.

As they get to the top of the mountain, Jesus changes before their eyes!

His whole body radiates with glory and even his clothes shine… brighter than the sun!

And as their eyes adjust to this brilliance, two others appear… Moses and Elijah.

Our text says that Peter reacted in this moment.

He reacted by wanting to bottle it up and capture it right there, just like that forever.

He interrupts Jesus and Moses and Elijah and offers to build some shrines where they can sit down and get comfortable and just stay right there.

None of this talk about losing your life.

None of the persecution that was happening back down in the valley.

None of the stress.

Just this perfect presence of the divine.

Light. Life. Glory.

If you encountered it… you wouldn’t want to leave either.

When you have a chance to catch your breath and rest in God’s presence it’s awfully hard to not want to just stay right there forever.

Trust me… I’ve just had four weeks to dwell in this beautiful space.

And while I’m excited to be back, it was also really, really hard to let go of that precious time away.

I’d be fibbing if I didn’t admit that a part of me imagined what it would be like to just leave it all behind and stay in that place forever.

During Lent this year, as a church, I’m challenging you to participate in one of our small groups focused around the book, “Unbinding Your Heart.”

I think this particular study is so important right now, because in some ways, I think we have got a little comfortable.

We’ve taken rest in the familiar and the holy and everything we know about God and the church.

We get into our patterns and routines and sit in the same seats on Sunday mornings and like Peter and James and John have built a little beautiful shrine around everything we believe about God and church.

This holy place is amazing and we want to stay right here in our comfort zones.

But on the mountain top, the voice of God quickly sets things straight. Out of the clouds, the glory of God rumbles: This is my Son, This is my Beloved! Listen to him!!!!!!

Just as quickly as it appeared, the clouds and fog dissipated and three bewildered and terrified disciples opened their eyes to find their teacher Jesus, standing before them alone.

It was time to head back down the mountain.

It was time to get back to work.

You see, the mountain top is not a destination.

It is more like a rest stop.

It is a place to fill up your tank, to pick up some snacks for the road, to take a nap if you need to…

But it is not the be all and end all of the journey.

This mountaintop transfiguration comes at a key transitional moment in the gospel.

It is framed in Matthew’s gospel by these two predictions of his suffering, death, and resurrection.

Jesus has set his face towards Jerusalem.

The disciples were being called to leave behind the healing and teaching and instead to head straight for the seat of power.

They were being called not to violence or revolution, but a display of righteous love that would “refuse to play the world’s power game of domination, exploitation, greed, and deception.”[1]

In the church year, it is also a moment of transition.

We, too, are setting our faces towards Jerusalem as we enter the season of Lent.

This Wednesday, we will remember our mortality when a cross of ashes is placed on our foreheads.

We, too, will live together the last week of Christ’s life.

We, too, are called to live out God’s righteous love in a world that doesn’t always accept or understand it.

As people of faith, we were never called to build tents and tabernacles to enshrine these moments forever.

We can’t say – oh, well, we accomplished that, look how great we were, and be done.

We can’t neatly wrap up our faith with a bow and put it on a shelf.

We have to set it free.

We have to keep working.

We have to keep seeing what changes need to be made.

We have to keep following the guidance of the spirit.

And that means getting off of the mountain top, rolling up our sleeves, and getting to work.

We do it all, because Christ has already gone before us.

He is the one we are following down the mountainside.

Jesus showed us you can take a moment for affirmation and to rest in the glory of God, but then we have to be on the move.

We have to let the good news out.

That light that overcame Jesus on the mountaintop – the glory that transformed him into a dazzling visage – wasn’t meant for him alone.

Christ is the light of the world and he knew that in order for that light to dwell within each of us, he was going to have to shine even in the darkest places of the world.

He was going to have to confront evil powers.

He was going to have to withstand betrayal and abuse.

He was going to have to carry his cross and enter the grave of death.

And we can’t stay on the mountaintop either.

We can’t rest for a moment longer.

We have to come down and let that light of Christ shine through our hearts.

If you haven’t already signed up for one of our Lenten groups, I urge you to do so today.

They will be starting this week and next and the discussions we will have as part of them will help us learn what it means to get out of church… to get out of these shrines and tabernacles we have built… and go out there to where people are waiting and hungry for the good news of God.

It is a chance to spend some time listening to God, listening to Christ, listening to the cries of our neighbors.

It is a chance to push ourselves out of complacency and into the harder and more beautiful realm of real ministry.

It is a chance to unbind the gospel… to set it free from those quiet mountaintop moments so that every moment can be filled with the good news of God.

Friends, it’s time to listen to Jesus.

It’s time to let God’s light shine through us.

It’s time to plant the seeds of the Kingdom of God everywhere we go.

It’s time to get off the mountain.

[1] Rodney Hunter, Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol 1, page 454.