tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27732343237440771922024-03-14T00:27:25.926-05:00It Seems To MeAmy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.comBlogger448125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-34653387314973318892019-09-04T17:47:00.003-05:002019-09-04T17:47:37.773-05:00It Seems to Me -- The End<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
have been telling myself to write this blog post for weeks now. I intended to
write it before I left <st1:city><st1:place>Shawnee</st1:place></st1:city>. I
expected to write it as soon as we were a little more settled from the move. I
planned on writing it as soon as the wedding was over. I anticipated writing it
before we left for <st1:state><st1:place>Minnesota</st1:place></st1:state>. I
was determined to write it while we were in <st1:state><st1:place>Minnesota</st1:place></st1:state>,
or at least on the way to <st1:state><st1:place>Kansas</st1:place></st1:state>
to settle Zach into school. I should have written it in the downtime between
returning home and starting my new call. But here I am, sitting at my new desk,
in my new office, in my new church home, three full days into the call, and I
am finally forcing myself to write this. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Why
am I procrastinating more than usual on a writing project I have set for
myself? Well, because this is it. This is the last piece I am writing for this blog.
I started this creative exercise when I answered the call to serve as pastor of United
Presbyterian in <st1:place><st1:city>Shawnee</st1:city>, <st1:state>Oklahoma</st1:state></st1:place>.
Seven plus years later, I have left that call. I am now the Head of Staff at
First Presbyterian Church of Pulaski, <st1:state><st1:place>Tennessee</st1:place></st1:state>.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
If you were paying
close attention to the first paragraph, you recognized that the last two months of my life have been filled
with change. Most of the changes have been good and filled with hope. The most joyous is that I have remarried a
wonderful, kind, funny, silly, lovely man named Brent Stoker. He is my best
friend and the love of my life, and I am sure you will hear more about him down
the road. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Yet, marrying
Brent – such a wonderful and unexpected enterprise – brought other changes. The
hardest one was leaving my church in <st1:city><st1:place>Shawnee</st1:place></st1:city>.
What a dear congregation, filled with so much love and so much courage. Leaving
them was harder than I could have ever imagined. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
But on the other
side of the sadness is the joy of moving home to <st1:state><st1:place>Tennessee</st1:place></st1:state>. Not only are Brent and I making a home for ourselves together, I have also
found a home in my new call to Pulaski. This congregation is filled with so
much love and so much courage. They fill me with hope. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Perhaps the two
most poignant changes in this sea of change has been sending my baby, my
youngest, my son, Zach, to college at KU in Lawrence, Kansas. I know Zach is more than ready for this transition in his life. I know he
will do well. I know it is time, and that this is what is supposed to happen.
But I miss him more than I can say. It is a quiet ache, always with me. But I
am happy for him and delight in the adult he is becoming. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
While Zach is entering
the wide world, my father, my dear, sweet dad, is seeing his world narrow. He is slowly leaving this one
for the next. When we said “goodbye,” to him in <st1:state><st1:place>Minnesota</st1:place></st1:state>,
I knew that it could very well be the last time I see him on this side of the
great divide between life, death and beyond. He is still with us, and I am so
grateful for that, but I anticipate the ache to come. It will be a quiet ache,
and it will always be with me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
With all of these
changes, I knew that another change needed to be made. It was time to end this
blog. I began it in the life that I have left. It is time for something new. I
intend to start a new blog in the weeks to come. I do not yet know what it will
be or where it will take me, but it seems to me that writing – even though I
procrastinate and delay it as often as possible – is the surest outlet for my
creativity, my imagination, my ponderings, my musings, my grief and my joy. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
So this is it. "It Seems to Me" has been a work of love. Writing in this space pushed me and challenged me and helped me grow. Thank you for reading it. Thank you for following. Thank you for
traveling this road with me. I know I’ll see you soon.</div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-73250111716992286412019-08-07T14:11:00.004-05:002019-08-07T14:11:37.857-05:00The Better Part -- Last Sunday at United Presbyterian Church<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>Luke 10:38-42</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="21" month="7" year="2019"><b>July 21, 2019</b></st1:date><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Two
statements. Both are true. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In
the last weeks, I have thought of nothing but this sermon.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In
the last weeks, I have thought of everything but this sermon. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
have both avoided thinking about it at all costs, and I have spent hours
ruminating on it. I have denied that it was coming, and I have worried that it
was coming too fast. I have done a million other things than write it, and I
have written it and rewritten it in my head. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>All
of these are true. And now that we have come to this moment, even as I stare at
the words on the page, I still cannot quite wrap my head around the truth that
I am standing here in this pulpit, in this church, in the midst of this beloved
congregation and preaching my last sermon as your pastor. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Everything
I have been doing these last weeks has been necessary. Everything has been
needed. I have had to pack. I have had to finish up projects. I have had to
complete to-do lists, and I have had to say my goodbyes to different people in
different settings. But in hindsight, much of it seems like a distraction. It
was easy to be distracted from the real and necessary work of preparing for
this moment. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In
our passage this morning, Martha is distracted. As you know from the other
times that I have preached on this passage, I bristle when we come to this
particular story in the lectionary. Not because it is not a good story. It is.
But I have said it before, and I will say it again; I think most
interpretations of this story give Martha a raw deal. Too many portrayals of
her make her out to be shrill and shrewish. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Jesus!
Don’t you see that I am doing all the work around here and my lazy sister,
Mary, is just sitting there?! Make her get up and help me!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
those same interpretations make Jesus’ words sound scolding and condescending at
best, disparaging at worst. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Martha,
Martha. You are distracted by many things. But only one thing is really needed
right now. Only one thing is absolutely necessary right now. Mary has figured
it out. Mary has chosen the better part. You should be more like your sister,
Mary.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
I don’t think Jesus was scolding Martha. I don’t think he was chiding her or
trying to treat her as some wayward child. I think, and I realize I could be
wrong but let’s assume I’m not, that his tone was gentler and kinder than we
read, interpret, or give him credit for. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Martha,
Martha. You are so distracted by things that ultimately don’t matter. But what
does matter is right here in front of you. You have this time to sit with me, this
time to learn from me, this time to be with me. That is what Mary is doing. Now
you do it too. That is the better part.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mary
was distracted. But she was also fulfilling her role in that household and her
role in that context and culture. She was supposed to tend the house. She was
supposed to show hospitality to guests. She was supposed to prepare food and
drink and make sure that everyone was taken care of. But what she was supposed
to do had gotten the better of her. While she was doing what was necessary, she
had lost sight of what was important. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
is easy to get distracted by all the things we think we need to do. But what
really matters is something else. What really matters, the better part, is
being here; being together; being in this moment now. I don’t want to miss this
moment now. I don’t want to rush through this sermon, worried and distracted by
all the other things I think must be done immediately. It is this moment that
matters. And it is this moment that is the better part. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Last
night at Sue Winterringer’s house, we were remembering my first night in <st1:city><st1:place>Shawnee</st1:place></st1:city>.
I was staying in her house. She and Jim were away. Mary Ann met me when I got
into town, showed me where Sue lives and helped me get settled. She also took
me to lunch at Chicago Street Deli and bought me a cookie. Talk about what
matters! But about <st1:time hour="2" minute="0">2 am</st1:time> I woke up
thinking I was having a heart attack. It turned out instead to be a gall
bladder attack, but I didn’t know that yet. All I knew was that I was alone in
a strange city, in a strange house and I didn’t know where the hospital was. It
all turned out okay. In fact it has become one of my favorite stories to tell.
It has become one of many stories from my time here. Like my first Christmas
Eve service when Zach set his bulletin on fire, and Phoebe, Mary and Mary Ann
rushed over and put it out. Thankfully, I did not actually see that happen. Or
do you remember the Advent at the old church when Phoebe and I sang a duet together?
Or how about the first time Brent came to see me and came to church with me on
Sunday morning. I will never forget Amybeth’s reaction to this handsome guy
visiting her pastor. I will never forget how warmly she welcomed him, and the
very knowing look she gave me. Do you remember when Alice and I would put a
stripe of purple in our hair every Sunday of Advent? Or the many different ways
we would find to celebrate Pentecost? Or the different projects we would give
all of you to help us accomplish? Do you remember the letters we had everyone
cutting out for weeks to create the titles of Advent and Christmas carols? I
will never forget Bill Weaver patiently cutting out letter after letter on
Sundays before church. If your name is not mentioned, please know that it is
not a slight. I could share stories and memories about each one of you, but we
would be sitting here for hours.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A
phrase I often hear when it comes to work and to life is that 85% is just
showing up. I know that I have not always been the most organized
administrator. I know that I haven’t stayed on top of every idea I’ve had or
brought every creative impulse I’ve known to fruition. But I hope that I have
shown up. I hope that I have shown up for you when you needed me. I hope that I
have shown up, because you all have certainly shown up for me and for my family.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>You
have shown up for all the plays and musicals and band concerts. When Phoebe got
the lead in Sound of Music, we had an entire Presbyterian row.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>You
have shown up for me when one of us has been sick. The night before Pauline’s
funeral when I got a stomach bug or food poisoning or some alien took over my
body and I was down for the count, Beth showed up with anti-nausea medicine and
comforting words. When I went through a divorce and our lives fell apart, you
showed up with love and compassion – for me, but even more so for the kids. I’ll
never forget Wanda walking into my office when I was having a bad moment and
just giving me a hug. I needed that hug. She showed up and you have shown up.
You have shown up for me. You have shown up for Phoebe. You have shown up for
Zach. You have shown up for us. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
when Brent came into our lives and made everything right again, you showed up
for him. You showed up with love and welcome and excitement, even though I
think many of you realized that eventually we would come to this day. You never
faltered in your hospitality and in your kindness. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>For
almost eight years you have shown up for me. You have taught me that the better
part is to not only be in the moment, but to be in the moment with kindness and
love. So I hope that I have done the same for you. I hope that I have shown up
for you when you have needed me, and even when you haven’t. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My
second Sunday in the pulpit was the 10<sup>th</sup> anniversary of September
11. I won’t say that it set a precedent necessarily, but it did push me to take
on tough things in my preaching. And I have. I know that I have pushed you. I
have challenged you. I know that I have preached some tough sermons over the years.
I know that I have called us out in those sermons. But I preached those
difficult sermons; I preached those touchy topics and hard passages, because
you gave me permission to. I was never afraid or worried, as I have been in
other churches, that I would be chastised for preaching a sermon that pushed us
to see ourselves in a less than glowing light. I can only thank you all again
and again, because serving you has made me a better preacher and a better
pastor. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
what I am most grateful for, what I am most thankful for, is that over and over
again you have shown me grace. You have not only shown me grace, you have
embodied it. You have been grace when my sermons fell flat. You have embodied grace
when I’ve forgotten to do something. You have shown me grace when I have messed
up or missed the mark. You have been grace to me at all moments, because you
are a gracious group of folks. You have shown me grace when I haven’t been able
to show it to myself. I can never thank you for that enough. When I find myself
in difficult situations, dealing with difficult people, I tell myself to
remember grace, to remember all the times it has been given to me, and that
makes those frustrating situations a little easier to bear; and it makes me
remember that the frustrating person in front of me is really just another
child of God, needing grace too. I learned that here, in your midst, at your
feet. I am so grateful. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
better part that Jesus spoke about was not that Mary was the better sister or
that Martha shouldn’t do what was expected of her. The better part Jesus spoke
of was in recognizing that some moments require letting go of everything else
and just being. Jesus was in their home, and everything else could fall away.
They needed to be with him. They needed to just be in his presence, at his
feet, learning, listening, with him. That was the better part. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
let us just be in this moment. Everything is changing, it is true. I am
leaving. My house is now in a moving van. I won’t be in this pulpit anymore,
and life will go on for all of us in new ways: in good ways, in exciting ways,
but not together. But for this moment, we <i>are</i> together. We are
worshipping with one another as we do every Sunday. We are lifting up prayers
and singing hymns and giving thanks. In this moment we are together and that is
the better part. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>(a
moment of silence)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
as this moment passes and we move forward in time to new moments, let us
remember that what keeps us going, that what gets us out of bed, that what
gives us purpose is hope. We do not lose hope. We do not lose hope when things
change. We do not lose hope when we say goodbye. We do not lose hope, because
God does not leave us. God does not forget us. God does not abandon us. God is
with us now, in this moment, and God is with us in the next moment and the next
and the next. God is calling us into the future. God tells us over and over
again that the future is in God’s hands. And those are good hands to be in. So
we move forward with hope and we move forward with love. That is the better
part. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Thanks
be to God. Amen.</div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-8044039220596647902019-04-23T18:27:00.000-05:002019-04-23T18:27:38.059-05:00I Have Seen the Lord! Easter Sunday<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>John 20:1-18</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="20" month="4" year="2000"><b>April 20, 2019</b></st1:date></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There
is something mysterious and wonderful about that time just before dawn. It is
an in-between time and the light reflects that. The light at that time of the
morning is strange. The light, pre-dawn, is not the velvety pitch black of <st1:time hour="3" minute="0">three a.m.</st1:time> But it is not the glowing light of <st1:time hour="9" minute="0">nine a.m.</st1:time> either. The sky is lightening but the
sun has not yet risen. There is light, but there is not light. Even as the
morning light grows and expands, shadows still linger. If you have been up and
outside at that time of the morning, it is hard to know what is what. It is
hard to know what you’re seeing. Is that a person sitting and thinking or is
that just an old stump? Did that tree move? No wait, it’s an animal. Objects
regain their sharp distinctions in the full light of day, but in the darkness
of early morning, lines are blurred and edges are indistinct. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
story of Jesus’ resurrection in John’s gospel tells us that Mary Magdalene came
to the tomb on that first day of the week while it was still dark. I suspect
that it was the darkness I have described. It was dark, but it was a moving
dark, a muted dark, a dark dancing on the verge of day. In this soft darkness,
Mary Magdalene made her way to the tomb. Maybe she thought she was seeing
things when she saw the stone rolled away. Perhaps she thought the diffused light
was playing tricks on her eyes. It was the shadows that made the stone looked
rolled away. Surely, the tomb was still sealed and Jesus’ lifeless body still
lay inside. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
no, this was no trick of light or shadow. This was real. The stone had been
rolled away. Mary assumed what most of us would. Jesus’ body had been taken,
moved, so that his followers could not recover him; a further punishment and
indignity on top of so much injustice. Mary did not hesitate or vacillate. She
ran to Peter and the other disciple, whom Jesus loved, and told them this
horrible news, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“They
have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid
him.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Peter
and the other disciple both set off at a run to see what Mary was talking
about. Although the other disciple ran faster and reached the tomb first, he
did not go in. He just looked in and saw the linen cloths. Peter, reaching the
tomb next, went inside. He too saw the linen wrappings that had covered Jesus’
body lying empty. And he also saw the cloth that had covered Jesus’ face, not
lying with the other ones, but rolled up and lying by itself. Once Peter went
in, then the other disciple followed. He saw the forsaken cloths and believed;
but as one commentator wrote, he believed without comprehension. Yet whatever
Simon Peter and this other disciple understood or did not understand, they did
nothing about it. They made no decision to act. They did not rush off to tell
the others. They said nothing else to Mary. They just returned to their homes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
Mary stayed. Mary stayed in that garden where the tomb was. She stayed even
though the stone had been rolled away and the tomb was clearly empty. She
stayed and she wept. She wept because Jesus her teacher, her beloved teacher
was gone. We are not privy to her thoughts, but we have a direct view into her
feelings. She wept at the absence of her Lord. And as she wept, she did what
Simon Peter and the other disciple had done. She bent over and looked into the
tomb. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Maybe
the half dark, half light had also played tricks on the disciples’ eyes; maybe
they were unable to see beyond who was <b>not</b> in the tomb, and perhaps the
angels who stared back at Mary were not there when Peter and the other disciple
peered into the grave site. But when Mary bent over and gazed in, she saw two
angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had lain – one at the foot,
one at the head. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They
asked Mary, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Woman,
why are you weeping?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“They
have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>No
sooner had these words left her lips, then she turned around and saw Jesus
standing there. Was it the strange darkness that kept her from really seeing who
was standing in front of her? She saw Jesus, but she did not see Jesus. She was
in a garden, and she assumed this man was the gardener. He asked her the same
question the angels had,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Woman,
why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Possibly
this gardener had the answers she so desperately sought.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sir,
if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take
him away.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
did not answer except to call her by name. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Mary!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then
her eyes were opened. Then she saw clearly. When her teacher called her name –
Mary! – she recognized Jesus. She saw Jesus. She knew Jesus. The darkness
finally lifted. What had once been blurry and confused was now clear. Jesus was
dead. But he is alive. He is resurrected. He is risen. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
did not come to Mary with an explanation of what happened in that tomb to make
it empty. He did not offer a doctrine of resurrection. He did not preach
theology of new life. He just called her by name – her name. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ultimately,
isn’t that how resurrection comes to us? Isn’t that how belief and faith
occurs? We can hear sermon after sermon, testimony after testimony about what
we should believe and why, but it is when we hear Jesus calling our name … Amy,
Brent, Lynn, John, Mary Ann, Beth, Barbara, Emily, Bette, Jack, Don, Wanda,
Thomas, Phoebe, Zach, and so on … that we believe? Isn’t it when Jesus calls us
by our names that we are able to proclaim “I have seen the Lord?!” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>God
loves the world so much that God resurrected God’s son, but God also loves us so
much, each one of us, that God resurrected God’s son, God’s self, for us, for
each of us. It is not either or, it is both and. When have you experienced
resurrection? When have you heard Jesus call you by name? When have you sat
alone in the dark weeping, distraught because all that you knew was gone and
all that you had hoped for was lost; and then Jesus called you by name, and you
saw, and you knew, and you believed? Because that is resurrection. It is more
than doctrine or theology. Words cannot describe it and ideas cannot contain
it. Resurrection is Jesus coming to us in our darkness, in our sorrow, in our
grief and calling us by name. I have seen the Lord in those moments. I have
seen the Lord in my darkness. I have seen the Lord when I thought all was lost.
I have seen the Lord, and my sorrow turned to joy, my desolation to hope, my
certainty of death transformed to trust in the new life, new thing God is doing
all around me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>On
this day of resurrection, on this day of celebration, on this day when we shout
“He is risen, He is risen indeed!” when have you seen the Lord? You have seen
him. I know it. That’s why you’re here. That’s why we are all here. Now tell
the world. Fill every silence with the ringing sound of the good news. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
We have all seen the
Lord! We have all seen the Lord! We have all seen the Lord! He is risen! He is
risen indeed! Amen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-79489431840555287612019-04-23T18:18:00.004-05:002019-04-23T18:18:46.841-05:00This Moment -- Good Friday<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>April 19, 2019</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>Ecumenical Service
at United Presbyterian Church<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
From
the manger to this moment</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
what
a narrow, winding path we’ve tramped.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
On a
starry night</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
we
peered with shepherds</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
into
the face of a newborn, </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
the
messiah newly born.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
We
added our voices </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
To
the angelic chorus </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
that
rocked the heavens</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
with
its raucous rejoicing,</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
and
returned home by another way</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
with
star gazers from afar.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
We
waited to wade in the </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
waters
of baptism,</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
dropped
our nets</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
and
abandoned our boats</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
when
the sound of his voice </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
reached
our ears </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
and
captured our hearts.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
Our
mouths gaped at the miracles.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
Our
eyes widened at the healings.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
We
could not understand that so many</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
could
be fed with so little bread.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
We
did not understand </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
or
grasp who He was.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
But when
He spoke of his death,</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
of
the cruelty, sorrow and agony </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
to
come</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
our
imaginations failed us.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
We
failed Him.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
From
the manger to this moment,</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
we
have not understood </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
or
believed </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
or
accepted</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
the
cross.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
Just
two wooden boards.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
Just
two wooden boards.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
But
nailed together </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
And
held aloft</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
They
are our heartbreak.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
They
are our salvation.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
He
is our salvation. </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
From
the manger to this moment</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
we
have come.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
In
three days </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
we
may dance in the streets with joy.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
In
three days we may make the world</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
ring
with our cries of celebration.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
In
three days he will rise once more.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
But
today, at this moment,</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
we
face his death</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
and
our complicity in it.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
Today,
at this moment, </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
He
dies.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
The
world is dark.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
The
powers and principalities have won.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
Yet
only for </div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
this
moment.</div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-20201671621642416792019-04-23T18:14:00.002-05:002019-04-23T18:16:30.110-05:00In the Doing -- Maundy Thursday<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>April 18, 2019</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>John 13:1-17,
31b-35<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
have reached the season of lasts. Last Sunday was the last Palm Sunday that
I’ll celebrate with all of you. Tonight is my last Maundy Thursday, tomorrow is
my last Good Friday … well, you get the picture. But as I think about all of
the lasts that are rapidly approaching, I’m also remembering my firsts. Tonight
I am specifically remembering my first Maundy Thursday service here in our
congregation. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
had led many other Maundy Thursday services before I came here, but there was
something different about our Maundy Thursday service in comparison to the
others I had been a part of. The first Maundy Thursday service that I led in
our church was also the first time I had ever led or participated in a foot
washing. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
My memory is fuzzy
on the particulars of how Alice and I decided to include the foot washing. I
suspect, although I cannot confirm this, that it was Alice who brought up the
fact that foot washing is often a component of a Maundy Thursday service. And
if she did say that, then I probably confessed to her that I had never done
that before. I had not even been here a year by that time, but I’m sure I would
have been comfortable enough with Alice to also say that I was extremely uncomfortable
with foot washing, and that I was unsure about taking it on in worship. Knowing
<st1:city><st1:place>Alice</st1:place></st1:city>, she probably assured me that
we did not have to have foot washing anywhere near our Maundy Thursday service.
And knowing me, I probably replied well now that we’ve talked about it, I feel
that we should go ahead with it. If it makes me this uncomfortable, it probably
means I need to experience it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Again,
my memory is pretty fuzzy, but I imagine a conversation like that or something
similar took place. What is most important is that we decided to wash feet.
Actually, we decided that I would wash feet. And I did. I washed the feet of
anyone who came forward. If you were there that night, you may or may not have
realized how nervous I was about doing this. I wasn’t sure if there was a foot
washing etiquette. Would I be turned off by it? What if I really hated doing
it, and was this setting a precedent I would never be able to get out of? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
is my job to be here tonight. This is a duty and a responsibility, and I take
that seriously. And part of our service is the foot washing. Yet, even if this
was not part of the job description and I had no obligation to be here, I would
still be here. I would still lead this service, and I would still do what I’m
going to do in just a few minutes: kneel down and wash your feet. Because far
from being a precedent that I don’t know how to change, the act of foot washing
in our service has made me appreciate and love this particular night even more.
And what is more, washing the feet of the people I serve has made me love all
of you even more. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When
Jesus washed the feet of his disciples, he was giving them an example of how to
love one another. You love one another by serving one another. Love is not
about how you feel, it is about what you do, how you act toward and live with
others. If you love one another, then you serve one another. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This
is all right and true and beautiful. It is also hard and can sometimes feel
almost impossible to live up to. But it has occurred to me that maybe Jesus
understood something that us regular folks struggle to get. We think that
loving leads to serving, and it does. I will say again that love is not a
feeling. It is not only a noun. It is also a verb. Loving is what you do. But I
also think that it is the serving that increases our ability to love: to do
love, and to feel love. The doing increases the loving. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
already cared about all of you when we shared our first Maundy Thursday
together. But after washing your feet, I loved you even more. Our feet are not
necessarily our most beautiful attribute. They get callused and tired and achy
and smelly and roughed up. Just by living we put our feet through their paces –
pun intended because I wrote it – every single day. But when you allowed me to
wash your feet, to see them in all their imperfections, you allowed me to see
you a little more deeply, a little more clearly. It was in the doing that I
learned even more about the loving. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In
washing the disciples’ feet, Jesus set his followers a new commandment: to love
one another as he loved them. That loving came in the form of doing, of
service. Jesus knew that the way to show their love for him was to show love
in the form of service to each other and to others. But maybe he also knew that
the more they served one another, the more they did for one another, the more
their feelings of love would grow and expand. Because I believe that it is in
the doing that we learn love. It is in the doing for others that we truly learn
how to love others. What would this beautiful and broken world that God gave us
look like if we took that out in the streets? What would the world look like if
we just realized that the more we do for others, the more we will love others? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
don’t know, but I can imagine. I can imagine because I know from personal
experience that it is in the doing that you learn the loving. I love you, so I
wash your feet. And when I wash your feet, I love you even more. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Amen
and amen and amen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-90795958809943295432019-04-11T15:22:00.001-05:002019-04-11T15:22:14.067-05:00Love Upon Love -- Fifth Sunday in Lent<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>John 12:1-8</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="7" month="4" year="2000"><b>April 7, 2019</b></st1:date></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<b><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></b>After
two weeks of traveling in three other countries, and trekking around <st1:country-region><st1:place>Israel</st1:place></st1:country-region>,
we had finally reached <st1:city><st1:place>Jerusalem</st1:place></st1:city>.
We were staying in the Palestinian quarter of <st1:city><st1:place>Jerusalem</st1:place></st1:city>,
and our group of travelers was scheduled to take an early morning tour of the
old city. I could not wait! I could not wait to see this ancient metropolis,
the one I had read about in scripture and envisioned in my imagination most of
my life. But as we were making plans for the next morning’s adventures my
roommate on the trip got sick; really sick. She had some ongoing health issues,
and the travel had just worn her out. She said she just needed a day to rest
and recover, and that I should go on the tour without her. But I was worried
that her sickness was more severe than she was letting on. And even if it
wasn’t, I did not want to leave her in our hotel room, sick and alone in a
strange country. What if something should happen? What if she needed something?
So I decided to stay with her that day. I went down to breakfast and told my
professors – the trip leaders – what was going on. On my way back to the room,
I ran into one of the hotel staff who had checked us into our rooms. I told him
what was happening, and that we wouldn’t be able to have our room cleaned that
day. He thanked me for letting him know, and we both went our separate ways. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
had been back in our room maybe ten minutes when there was a knock at the door.
I thought maybe it was somebody from our group checking in, but when I opened
the door, it was the hotel clerk I had just spoken with. In his hands was a
tray, and on the tray there was a teapot and some cups. He wanted to make sure
that we were all right, and to please let him know if I needed anything else.
Tears came into my eyes. He did not have to do that. There was no extra
incentive for him. It was just kindness. It was an unexpected act of kindness
and compassion that was sorely needed. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
What we have in
this story from John’s gospel is a moment of unexpected compassion and
kindness. Versions of this story are found in all four gospels. In both Matthew
and Mark, the woman who anointed Jesus with precious nard did so for the same
purpose as in John’s gospel; it was about Jesus’ burial. Yet in Luke’s gospel,
the woman who anointed Jesus was a sinner who realized how forgiven she truly
was, and anointing Jesus was a response to this forgiveness. In each version,
the woman’s actions were scorned. And in each version, the gospel writer
records that Jesus told the people who grumbled about her to leave her alone.
But only in John’s gospel, do we know her name. This woman was Mary, the
younger sister of Martha. Her brother was Lazarus. We presume that this is the
same Mary and Martha from Luke’s gospel. This is the Mary who sat at Jesus’
feet and listened to him while her sister, Martha, worked frantically to
prepare the meal and clean the house for the Rabbi. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Jesus was once
more a guest in the home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus; and as we learn in the
first verse, it was six days before the Passover, and Jesus had raised Lazarus
just before. Martha served the meal. Lazarus, who had been dead but was
resuscitated, was at table with Jesus and the others. I can well imagine that
there was a great deal of activity happening in every corner of the house. There
must have been noise and movement, talking and serving. And in the midst of all
this hustle and bustle, Mary took a large amount of perfume made from pure nard
and began to anoint Jesus’ feet with it. As she anointed his feet, she wiped
them with her hair. The perfume was expensive and it was rare. It was found
only in the Himalayan mountain range or in other remote parts of <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region>
and <st1:place>Asia</st1:place>. I suspect it would have been bought from
traders along the <st1:place>Silk Road</st1:place>, and I also suspect that
under normal circumstances it would have been doled out, drop by precious drop,
in order to prevent any waste. Waste was not on Mary’s mind however. We are not
told the precise amount that she used, but I imagine she was prepared to pour
out the whole lot, lavishly and lovingly on the feet of the Rabbi she loved. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>All
of those watching this had to have been shocked by Mary’s behavior, but it was
Judas who spoke up. He complained that if Mary had access to such an expensive
nard, why wasn’t it sold for a lot of money? That money could have been given
to the poor instead of poured out. In an aside, John explains that Judas didn’t
give a hoot about the poor. He only wanted the money for himself, because he
was a thief and stole from the common purse. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
immediately defended Mary’s actions, but his response is disturbing to our ears.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Leave
her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial.
You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“You always have
the poor with you?” That runs contrary to everything Jesus has said about the
poor and the weak and the vulnerable up to this point. Jesus’ whole ministry,
his whole life, was about taking the side of the poor, the marginalized and the
oppressed. He came for the others in the world – the forgotten, the lost, the
lonely. But in this story, his attitude about the poor seems almost cavalier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
biblical scholars that I read speculate that Jesus was not dismissing the poor.
He was referencing verses in the Old Testament that stated that there would
always be poor people and people in great need; therefore they should always be
welcomed and cared for. It is unlikely that Jesus suddenly decided that the
poor didn’t matter. But when Mary began to anoint him, he knew that this was a
moment of compassion and kindness that was not only nice but necessary. He was
still with them, still living, but that was about to change. He would soon die
a criminal’s death. The rituals and rites of burial would be denied to him
before his execution. Mary anointed him for his burial while she could. She
showed him love while she could. It was a moment of compassion.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
keep emphasizing the word <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">moment</i>
because this story is about a moment of compassion in the midst of many other
moments that were anything but. Knowing the larger context, knowing about those
other moments, is important for understanding what’s happening in this
particular moment. As it states at the beginning of the passage, Jesus was at
table in the home of Mary, Martha and Lazarus. Lazarus had been dead but was
now alive, raised only recently by Jesus from the tomb. Raising Lazarus caused
many people who witnessed this miracle to believe in Jesus. But it had also
frightened and worried many more. Once you’re dead, you’re supposed to stay
dead. That’s the only decent thing to do. If Jesus had the power to change the
order of life and death, then he was too powerful. The chief priests and
Pharisees knew that Jesus had to be stopped. If more and more people believed
in him, then the Romans would find out and destroy them all. Perhaps he could
bring others back from the dead, but surely he could not change that ending for
himself. So a plot to kill him was put into motion. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
must have been fully aware of this plot, because John states that from that
time on Jesus could not move about openly. He went to a town called Ephraim,
which was near the wilderness, and he stayed there with his disciples; until they
came to <st1:city><st1:place>Bethany</st1:place></st1:city> and the house of
Mary, Martha and Lazarus. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yet
this dinner party did not go unnoticed. In the verses following our story, we
learn that when people discovered where Jesus was, they came in great numbers
to see Jesus <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and</i> to see Lazarus who
was raised from the dead. This made the powers that be even more nervous.
Lazarus was literally living proof of Jesus’ power. Not only did Jesus need to
be silenced, Lazarus must be silenced too. Immediately after our story, a plot
to kill Lazarus was hatched. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
this is the context in which this moment – this moment of kindness and
compassion – occurred. Murderous schemes were in play both before and after. The
tension and fear must have been palpable. Yet in this time of fear and anxiety,
Mary, who once sat at Jesus’ feet to listen and learn from him, took a place at
his feet once more. And she anointed those dusty, dirty, tired feet with
precious perfume. She wiped the perfume away with her hair. It was an intimate
act, a loving act. No doubt her actions scandalized everyone watching, because
that kind of intimacy between a man and woman would never have been displayed
so openly; and it certainly would not have been acceptable in private for
anyone except a husband and wife. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yet
however inappropriate her actions might have been, however socially
unacceptable and taboo, it was not a time for following social codes or rules.
It was a time for compassion. It was a time for kindness. It was a time for love
upon love. Somehow Mary understood this. Maybe she realized what his disciples
could not; that she only had a short time left with her Teacher. She only had a
short time left, and in that moment the minister needed ministry. He needed
compassion. He needed kindness. He needed love as he prepared for what lay
ahead: pain, cruelty, betrayal and death. She responded to that need with her
whole being. That moment required compassion, so leave her alone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mary
did what Jesus had been doing all along; she showed extravagant, over the top,
abundant love upon love. The Greek verb used to express how she wiped his feet
with her hair is the same verb used to describe Jesus washing his disciples’
feet. Mary mirrored the abundant love upon love that Jesus showed and embodied:
to the poor and the vulnerable, to the lost and the alone, to those who would
betray him and to those who would walk away. Jesus was the incarnation of God’s
abundant and extravagant and over-the-top grace upon grace and love upon love. In
this moment Mary reflected that abundance. She mirrored that compassion. In
this moment showed that same love upon love. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>How
often do we find ourselves in moments where that love upon love is needed? Do
we respond with abundance, with excess, with extravagance or do we respond more
stingily? Do we mete out love and grace only in infinitesimal portions, guarding
it as though love could somehow be used up or run dry? How many moments are
there when we have the opportunity to show love upon love? How many moments are
there when we can also reflect the love upon love showed to us daily by God? As
we move closer and closer to Good Friday’s sorrow, be aware of those moments.
Look for them. Welcome them. Fill them with love upon love. Because the good
news is that God fills all of our moments with love upon love, if only we had
eyes to see and hearts to feel. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Let
all of God’s children say, “Amen.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-36283743060692307672019-04-02T12:24:00.004-05:002019-04-02T12:24:58.300-05:00Reckless Waste -- Fourth Sunday in Lent<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>Luke 15 </b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="31" month="3" year="2019"><b>March 31, 2019</b></st1:date><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
the scene opens, preacher is talking about the story we have in front of us
today: what’s otherwise known as the Prodigal Son. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“We’re all
prodigal children at some time or another,” the preacher tells his flock. “But
God can guide you home.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
congregation usually so engaged and attentive, always rewarding the good word
from their preacher with “Amens” and “Hallelujahs” are distracted. There is
another kind of music drifting up from the riverside. The soulful sound of
blues interrupts the preacher’s sermon. Not just any soulful sound of blues,
but blues being sung by the preacher’s very own prodigal daughter: Shug Avery.
In response, the choir is encouraged to sing, “God Is Trying to Tell You
Something.” And as they begin to sing, that refrain – God is trying to tell you
something – winds and drifts down to the folks jamming at the edge of the
river. Shug stops singing; listening, listening, listening. She smiles, a sort-of
sad smile, but the edges of that sadness are blurred by hope. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Speak
Lord,” Shug sings. “Speak Lord.” Then she begins to walk, and all the people
gathered around her follow. As she walks she sings, and as she sings, she
walks. She walks up the wooden dock. She walks up the long road, the dirt road,
and at the road’s end stands the church; the church that loved her, the church
that rebuked her. She walks faster and faster, singing louder and louder. It’s
as if the music is carrying her, calling her. The soloist in the choir can hear
her. The people in the church can hear her. Her father can hear her. She and
all the people with her walk and dance and sing their way into the church; Shug
is at their head, singing with joy, singing with love; just singing and crying
and crying and singing. The whole church is singing. The choir is singing. God
is trying to tell you something. Speak Lord. Her father has stopped preaching
altogether. He takes off his glasses and stares at his daughter who is coming
from a long way off. She walks up the aisle toward him and stops, staring back at
her father, singing and waiting and wondering. Would he cast her out? Would he
turn away? He doesn’t move. He stares at his daughter, and his eyes and his
face tell her what he cannot say. He loves her. He loves her. He loves her. She
moves toward him and when she finally reaches him, she throws her arms around
him. Slowly, as though he was trying to remember how, he wraps his arms around
her too. In the midst of the singing and the tears, she whispers in his ear, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“See
Daddy, sinners have souls too.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>God
is trying to tell you something. In the movie, <i>The Color Purple</i>, it was
this music that brought Shug Avery – this rebellious woman, this preacher’s
daughter who walked away from the life she was told she must live – back into
her father’s arms. It was this music that brought her to herself. And it was
hunger that brought the younger son back himself. It was hunger, and the
recognition that his wanton and wasteful ways had brought him to the point of
starvation, living with pigs, so hungry that he was tempted to eat the slop
that the pigs ate. That was the moment when he came to himself. That was the
moment when he realized that the hired hands on his father’s farm lived better
than he was living. That was the moment when he made up his mind to go home;
when he rehearsed what he would say to his father once he saw him. That was the
moment when this son, the one we know as prodigal, decided to go home, to
return to his father and his family, and ask for forgiveness. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“There
was a man who had two sons.” These words are so familiar and so famous that all
I have to do is say them and them alone, and you would most likely know exactly
which parable was about to come next. One commentator wrote that these opening
words to the parable of the man with two sons brings to a mind a story he once
heard about a man who went to the movies. The man saw the MGM lion roar and
thought that he must have already seen that movie, so he got up and left the
theater. This parable is so familiar to us that maybe you might be tempted to
check out a little bit. I mean after all, you’ve heard it and heard it and
heard it. What more can be said about it? What more do any of us need to know? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Believe
me; I struggled with this same idea from a preaching perspective. What else can
I say about this parable? What else can I do with it? But for a moment, just a
moment, let’s try to let go of what we think we know about this parable and
hear it with new ears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“There
was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father,
give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’ So he divided his
property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and
traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in
dissolute living.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
What did it mean for a son to ask
his father for his inheritance even before his father was dead? In essence the
younger son told his father, “Hey Dad! Drop dead!” Or “You are already dead to
me, old man, so give me what I will get when you actually are.” What a guy! The
first surprise of this parable – because that’s what parables are meant to do,
shock and surprise – is this, why did his father do it? Why did he give him the
money? Just because the son asked for it doesn’t mean the father should have
given it to him. We can speculate as to the back story about this family
dynamic all we want, but there is nothing in the text to suggest what that
story might be. What we have to wrestle with is what Jesus said. The younger
son asked for his inheritance and the father gave it to him. With all that
money in his possession, the son took off. He was ready to see the world. He
was ready to do some living. I suspect if I had been given that much cash when
I was younger, I might have done the same thing. I would have operated under
the same delusion as the younger son; that the money would last forever, no
matter how wasteful and wild I was with it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Well
we do know what happens next. The money is gone, the son is starving. He hires
himself out to work for a farmer and ends up living with pigs. Then he comes to
himself, and makes up his mind to go home and ask for forgiveness. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
as he approaches his father’s home, we readers get surprised a second time. The
father, who I suspect many considered very foolish for giving the son his
inheritance in the first place, does not react as he was supposed to. Shouldn’t
he have been furious with his son? Shouldn’t he have been somewhat reluctant to
welcome his son back home? Shouldn’t he have taken the son’s offer to be a
hired hand seriously? That’s what the son deserved after all. He deserved
nothing better than to live not as a member of the family, but as one of his
father’s workers. He was due no blessing. He was due no benefits. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
the father did not get that message. The father sees him from a long way off,
and was filled with compassion. He runs to his son. He throws his arms around
him. He kisses him. When his son begins his rehearsed speech, he cuts him off.
He calls for his servants to bring the best robe and put it on him, to put a
ring on his finger, to kill the fatted calf and get the party started. His son
was dead, but he is alive. He was lost, but now he is found! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
this was a man with two sons. The younger son was dead but alive, lost but
found. But what about the older son? If we’re honest, <b>really honest</b>, we
would admit that the older son is the only one in this story who acts as we
expect. He is doing his duty. He is being responsible. He is working in the
fields as he was supposed to, but he hears the music and the celebrating and
the party, and he asked one of the slaves what was going on. When they tell him
about his lost and found younger brother, he is furious! He refuses to come
into the house. He refuses to join the party. He refuses to celebrate his
younger brother’s return. His father pleads with him. Please son, please, come
inside, celebrate with us. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
the older brother would not be moved.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“’Listen!
For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never
disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I
might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has
devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!”
Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine
is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours
was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Don’t
you get it, the father said? Don’t you get it? Your brother was dead. But he is
alive. He was lost, but now he is found! We have to celebrate this. We have to
rejoice. But the older brother could not let go of his resentment. He could not
see that the new life of his brother warranted celebration. In his mind the
rejoicing over his brother was just another way that he, the older son, had
been mistreated, taken for granted and ignored. And as I said, if we’re honest,
we probably get that feeling don’t we? Maybe we’ve felt it as well. Maybe we’ve
felt that same resentment, that same burning anger, that same seething rage.
Maybe we’re feeling it right now. But what the father was trying to tell his
older son, and what the older son would not see, was that the rejoicing for the
younger son did not take away from the older one. There was room for both of
them. There was joy and love and celebration for both of them. But one was
dead, and was now alive. Couldn’t he see that? Couldn’t he understand it? Can’t
we? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Sometimes
we hear this parable as a call to repentance. If we just repent of our sins and
turn back toward God, look at the grace with which we will be greeted. But
while there is certainly abundant repentance and forgiveness in this story,
what I think this parable and the two before it really reveal is a glimpse into
the heart of God. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Remember
these parables begin with the Pharisees and scribes grumbling because Jesus was
eating with tax collectors and sinners. So Jesus told them three parables about
lost and found, dead and alive, so that they could see the heart of God. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
what is that we see in God’s heart when someone returns? Joy! Celebration!
Grace! Mercy! Love! If anyone is a prodigal in these parables, it is the one
who leaves the 99 sheep to find the one that is lost. It is the woman who
sweeps her house to find the lost coin. It is the father who welcomes his son
home with rejoicing. If there is a prodigal in these parables it is God. God
who loves so recklessly, so, some might even say, wastefully. It is God who is
the prodigal; God who refuses to give up on any one of God’s children. It is
God who is over the top with mercy, with grace, with abundant and overflowing
love. Does that mean that God loves the ones who are not lost less? No! But
when the lost one is found, God is not going to skimp on joy. Neither should
we. We see in these parables a glimpse of God’s heart. What would our families
look like, our neighborhoods look like, our communities, our country and our
world be like, if we could show to others even a fraction of the love and mercy
we are shown? What would every aspect of our lives look like if we could
replace resentment with joy, if we could celebrate instead of seethe? What
would every aspect of our lives look like if we could be as prodigal with our
love and mercy with others as God is with us? Maybe that is the question we
must ask this Lent and always.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Let
all of God’s children say, “Amen.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-36061222495535652572019-03-15T14:50:00.000-05:002019-03-15T14:50:08.813-05:00If -- Second Sunday in Lent<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>Luke 4:1-13</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="10" month="3" year="2019"><b>March 10, 2019</b></st1:date><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I’m
the first to admit that I have some definitive vices. For example, I love
sweets and food in general way too much. While I have plenty of others, one of the
vices that I don’t possess is gambling. That does not mean I haven’t gambled. The
first time I ever went to a casino was in <st1:state><st1:place>Minnesota</st1:place></st1:state>.
I went with my brother and sister and some other family members. My mom had
saved several rolls of quarter, and she gave those to us to spend. This is not
something that my immediate family does on a regular basis, so I’m not sure why
we planned this field trip. But I think our motivation was mainly to see what
it was like. After we were done, and after I spent the entire roll of quarters
on a slot machine with no winnings to show for it, I thought I could have spent
that money on so many other more satisfying things; like a book or make up or
chocolate. It felt like I had just thrown money away, which essentially I had.
So I don’t gamble. I don’t even buy lottery tickets, because to me buying a
lottery ticket feels more complicated than buying a latte. I don’t know what to
ask for, and I’m too embarrassed to ask anyone else to help me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
don’t gamble by going to casinos or buying lottery tickets, but I will enter
sweepstakes. Maybe that is also a form of gambling. I have learned that there
are a lot of sweepstakes to enter. You can enter sweepstakes through the Travel
Channel, through the Home and Garden network. Planning a wedding? Oh look,
enter this sweepstakes and you could win a dream honeymoon or enough money to
plan the lavish ceremony you’ve always wanted. I hate to admit how much money I
spent buying Yoplait yogurt a few years ago, because I was entering each
purchase into their sweepstakes for $100,000. I’m not proud of it. But I did
it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
I do daydream what I would do with money, should I win it. My musings generally
start with “<b>If</b> I were to win that money, I’d be very practical about it.
The first thing I would do is pay off my debt. I would set aside a huge chunk
of it for the kids. I’d help my mom and dad with anything they need. And, <b>and,
</b>I would give a large part of it to the church.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
feel good about myself for my imaginary generosity should I win a big
sweepstakes. And it is fun to think about what possibilities would be open to
me if I just had the cash. Think about how much good I could do for others!
Isn’t that wonderful?! Isn’t that great?! Except for the fact that it rests on
the word <i>if</i>. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>If</i>
is a small but mighty word. Add <i>what</i> to the front of it, and it holds so
much possibility and hope. What if we tried this new thing? What if we did
that? What if we looked at the problem this way? What if I did win a
sweepstakes, think about how much good I could do for my family and others.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
However, add <i>only</i>
to the end of it, and that hope is replaced with regret. If only I hadn’t done
that dumb thing. If only I had made better choices. If only I had worked harder
and daydreamed a little less. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If.
If. If. In the context of our passage from Luke, if holds other meanings. The
devil uses this little conjunction in his tempting offers to Jesus. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“If
you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“To
you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over
to me, and I give it to anyone I please If you, then will worship me, it will
all be yours.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“If
you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written, ‘He
will command his angels concerning you, to protect you,’ and ‘On their hands
they will bear you up, so that you will not dash a foot against a stone.’”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In
the first and the last temptation, the devil uses “if” not so much as a
question of Jesus being the Son of God, but as a certainty. If in these cases
also means “since.” If you are the Son of God and you are, then prove it by
doing this. <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And in the second
temptation, “if” has a conditional meaning. If you just worship me, I’ll give
you all this power. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
seems to me that “if” is the word of temptation. Clearly, it is in the way the
devil used it when he tried to lure Jesus to fall in the wilderness. And it is
in the other ways I described. Instead of dealing with the reality of my
finances as they are, I give into the temptation to dwell in daydreams about
money that will most likely never be mine. “What if I had a million dollars …”
And the “if” of regret is another temptation, another trap. While we should
have remorse for bad decisions and hurtful choices, to dwell on them
obsessively seems to me to be a denial of grace, a denial of forgiveness, and a
refusal to live in the present. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yes,
I think “if” is a word of temptation. It certainly seems to be in the way Jesus
is tempted in the wilderness. This story, found with variations in Matthew,
Mark and Luke, is where we get our understanding of the human Jesus being
tempted as we are, but without sin. Jesus heard the great tempting “if” of the
devil, but did not give into his luring offers. But what does this story mean
for us? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Is it just a story
of encouragement? See Jesus had willpower and self-control, we should too.
That’s great, until our willpower fails and our self-control seems to fly out
the window. When we see this story as one of encouragement only, then when we
fail, we fail not only ourselves, we fail Jesus. We fail God. Doesn’t that open
us to the temptation of “if only”?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
While this story
can encourage us and can give us hope, maybe it also instructs us on what temptation
and what power really are. Jesus is tempted by the devil to do things that
could be used for the greater good. Turn stones into bread. Feed yourself and
feed all of the other hungry people out there. Take control of all the kingdoms
in the world and rule them justly and wisely and with great compassion. Throw
yourself off a cliff and when God saves you, you will prove to the world just
who and what you truly are. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
It would be hard
not to be tempted by the “if’ the devil offers. But Jesus said “no,” to all of
it. Jesus didn’t say “no” because of some superhuman ability. Jesus said “no”
because the power that the devil offered, the temptation of the devil’s “if”
was worldly power. It was human power. It was the kind of power we think is
real and right and true. It was power of ability and power of strength and
power of proof. It was the tempting power of “if.” But I don’t think that’s
power as God understands it. I have a feeling that power is very different to
God. I think power as God understands it rests more in taking on weakness than
in showing strength. I think power to God is more about sacrifice than it is
conquest. I think power to God is more about faith than it is about proof. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
The devil used
that tempting “if” to lure Jesus into the trap of worldly power. But the devil
was right in one thing; <i>since</i> you are the Son of God. Jesus was the Son
of God. Jesus is the Son of God. Jesus knew who he was, and all the power in
the world could not convince him to betray that identity. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
If. Yes, it is a
word of temptation. But the good news is that it is also a word of hope. For as
often as we may be tempted by “if,” we also find promise in it. If we trust
God, we will not be left alone. If we believe in God, we will have abundant
life. If we follow in the footsteps of the Son, then even if we lose our lives,
we will gain them. If we follow in the footsteps of the Son, then we will know
love, real love, God’s love. And as we are loved, we are able to love others,
to give love away. That’s the real power. That is the hope of “if.’ </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Thanks be to God.
Amen.</div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-65251890461897551572019-02-12T11:41:00.003-06:002019-02-12T11:41:18.563-06:00If You Say So<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>Luke 5:1-11</b></div>
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<st1:date day="10" month="2" year="2019"><b>February 10, 2019</b></st1:date><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
only time I ever think to watch the game show, <i>Jeopardy</i>, is with my
parents. That’s one of the things we do when I visit. We sit in the afternoon
and watch <i>Jeopardy</i> together. This is not a forced activity; I like to
watch it with them. I suspect that I probably annoy them some, because I have a
tendency to call out the answer to a clue if I know it. But I always forget to
put it in the form of a question. What fascinates me about the game is when
they get to Final Jeopardy, which if you have ever watched the game show, it
comes at the very end; obviously. There is a final clue given, and the show
goes to a commercial break. When they return from break, each contestant has
made a wager and written down their answer. The wagers can be anything from 0
dollars to the total amount of their winnings. If a contestant thinks he or she
has the right answer, maybe they’ll wager everything they’ve earned. But if a
player isn’t so sure, maybe they wager a smaller amount, hedging their bets,
literally, so they don’t potentially lose everything. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
silly as it sounds, Final Jeopardy always puts me on the edge of my seat. Will
the current champion know the right answer and bet enough to win? Or will
another player make a surprise comeback by risking everything and then winning
everything? Sometimes there are spectacular wins, but there are also even more
spectacular losses. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If
we were to put this story from Luke’s gospel into a Jeopardy game, what would
it look like? </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Perhaps
Jesus would offer this clue: Eternal life with God and the greatest glory in
heaven and earth comes from doing this?</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Simon:
What is following you on the path of discipleship!</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ding!
Ding! Ding! You have won it all Simon Peter! And the crowds on the shore go
wild! </div>
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Except for that’s
not what happens, is it? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to trivialize this
story in any way. But the decision of the disciples to leave everything and
follow Jesus would make more sense in worldly terms if Jesus <b><i>had</i></b>
made a grand, extravagant promise of glory and eternal life. He does promise
them good things with God at other times, but not in this initial call, not at
this particular time. No, what Jesus said to these fishermen is this:</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Do
not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.”</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
how do they respond?</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“When
they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If
this were a game of Jeopardy, these fishermen would have wagered everything
they had on following a man with no immediate promise of reward. So why do they
do it? Isn’t that the ongoing question of this story? Why do these fishermen
leave their catch, leave their business, leave their families, leave everything
they knew and understood and follow Jesus – a preacher and teacher who came
from as humble of circumstances as they did?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In
some ways it might be easier to answer this question based on Luke’s account
than on the other gospels. In the other gospel accounts, I’m thinking of Mark
specifically, we are unaware of the fishermen having any knowledge of Jesus
before he walked by them and issued his call. But in Luke, we do know that
they’ve encountered him before. At least Simon Peter has. In verses that we
don’t read in chapter 4, Jesus healed Simon’s mother-in-law of a fever. Plus, this
whole story begins with Jesus preaching to crowds so great that they were
pressing in on him. Perhaps he felt that he might even be pushed into the sea.
So, Jesus climbs into their boats, which were moored there at the shore and asks
Simon to row him out away. There, from that boat, he continues to preach. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What
Luke tells us is that Simon and his partners had been out all night fishing,
but with no luck, no catch. No catch meant no profits for that day. No catch
most likely meant their stomachs would stay empty. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
fishermen must have been tired and discouraged. They were cleaning up their
boats and their nets, and probably making ready to head home until it was time
to fish again. One commentator wrote that Jesus was probably a bit of a
nuisance, climbing into their boat uninvited and asking them to row him out
into the water. But Simon was gracious. He did what Jesus asked. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Once
the sermon was over, he asked Simon to row him out into deeper water and put
out his nets. In Simon’s mind, he knew he had reached his limit and was ready
to give up. He said as much to Jesus. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Master,
we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I
will let down the nets.” </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If
you say so…Simon had witnessed Jesus’ power to heal. He and his partners heard
the words Jesus spoke to the crowds, and they saw the size of the crowds he was
speaking to. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Simon
must have understood, even just a little bit, that Jesus was someone special,
someone to be listened to. So although he was reluctant, he said, “if you say
so,” then he did what Jesus asked. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Whatever
doubts Simon had about this last attempt at catching some fish soon vanished.
There were so many fish in the nets that they started to break. There were so
many fish in the nets that the partners in the other boat had to be called to
help. There were so many fish in the nets that the boats were weighed down
almost to sinking. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Simon
knew that Jesus was someone special, but when that extraordinary, miraculous
catch of fish happened, Simon saw Jesus not just as a preacher or a teacher or a
healer, but as divine. He may not have understood what that meant yet, but I do
believe that he saw the divine in Jesus. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
think that is what his confession is all about. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Go
away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
seems to me that this was not so much a confession of sin, but as a recognition
by someone who has seen the sacred and the holy and realizes how unsacred and
unholy he is by contrast. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There
are many times when Jesus would pardon someone of their sins. But that is not
what Jesus did in response to Simon’s confession. Jesus did not say, “Go, your
sins are forgiven.” </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
said, “Do not be afraid.” </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
said to these fishermen-soon-to-be-disciples the same thing that the angels
said to the shepherds; the same thing Gabriel said to Mary. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Do
not be afraid” </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
with those words, Simon Peter and the others left their catch of fish on the
shore and followed. They wagered everything they had and they followed, not knowing
if their bet would be fulfilled, but they followed anyway. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Do
not be afraid is our promise as well. It is our assurance. Because we are
called to follow just as those fishermen were. We are called to go to the
unknown, to cast our nets into the deep waters, waters where we cannot see the
bottom. We are called to go on faith and trust, knowing nothing for certain,
but believing with our whole hearts. We are called to follow, and although some
may not think that the words, “do not be afraid,” are much to go on, we believe
and we trust that these four words represent a greater promise, a larger life
and the truest love. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Do
not be afraid. If you say so, Lord. If you say so. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Thanks
be to God. Amen.</div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-65349359674606468162019-02-05T10:32:00.003-06:002019-02-05T10:32:28.970-06:00Gracious Words?<br />
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<b>Luke 4:21-30</b></div>
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<st1:date day="3" month="2" year="2019"><b>February 3, 2019</b></st1:date><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>At
only 11, Akeelah is carrying the weight of the world on her young shoulders. At
least that is how it feels. Perhaps it’s not the weight of the world per se,
but it is the weight, the burden even, of other’s expectations, desires, hopes
and dreams. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Akeelah
is the lead character in the movie <i>Akeelah and the Bee</i>. It is one of
those moves that makes you think and makes you feel and makes you glad to be
alive. Akeelah is a spelling phenom from what would seem to be a stereotypical
urban, predominantly black neighborhood in <st1:city><st1:place>Los Angeles</st1:place></st1:city>.
</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Her
middle school has never held a spelling bee before, but to do so would put them
in the running for regionals, state and eventually the national spelling bee.
It would bring much needed attention to her school district, where even the
stalls of the girls’ bathrooms did not have doors. Just as sports brings money
into schools, a spelling has the same potential. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
I said, you know from the outset that Akeelah is a spelling phenom. She loves
the game <i>Scrabble</i>, and she loves words and language. It is a love that
her late father instilled in her. But she is an underachiever at school. She is
bullied. She tries to hide her intelligence because it makes her stand out too
much. It makes her a target for others’ anger and jealousy. But as Akeelah
begins to advance in the spelling bees, and as she is preparing to go to the
nationals, her classmates, her neighborhood, her family and friends all rally
around her. They want her to win. People from all over help her study and
memorize words. They are interviewed on human interest stories saying that they
want her to win because it would be good for all of them. It would be good for
their neighborhood to have a hometown girl go to the bee and win. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Akeelah
feels their love and support, but she also feels the pressure. She feels the
intense weight of their expectations. And for a moment she falters. She is
terrified to let anyone down. She even considers dropping out because she is so
afraid of failing. She realizes that she would not just fail herself; she would
fail everyone rooting for her. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
won’t tell you the rest of the story. But if you have not seen this movie, I
highly recommend that you do so. But it is a study in contrasts that while
Akeelah fears failing the people of her neighborhood, in effect her hometown,
Jesus had no such fear. He was not afraid of disappointing or displeasing or
angering the people he grew up with. That seems apparent in our passage from
Luke’s gospel today. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
have always read this last part of the story, which began last week, through
the lens that the people of Nazareth, the people who thought they knew Jesus
best, just could not accept that he was who he said he was. I think that may be
true in the other gospel accounts, but as I really studied what is happening
here, I’m not so sure that’s the case in Luke’s telling. It seems to me that
the people were initially just fine with Jesus. They were pleased and
accepting, and even proud of Jesus. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Verse
22 states it outright.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“All
spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his
mouth. They said, ‘Is not this Joseph’s son?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
think in the past I have heard a sneering tone in their exclamation about him
being Joseph’s son. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Isn’t
that Joseph’s kid, you know the carpenter from down the block? He’s gotten a
little bit big for his britches, hasn’t he?” </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
I think I’ve been wrong. I don’t think that was their tone. I do believe they
were amazed and pleased and proud of him. It would seem that the trouble was
not so much in what the people were thinking, but what in what Jesus was
saying. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Doubtless,
you will quote to me this proverb, ‘Doctor, cure yourself!’ And you will say,
‘Do here also in your hometown the things you did at <st1:city><st1:place>Capernaum</st1:place></st1:city>.’
And he said, ‘Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s
hometown. But the truth is, there were many widows in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Israel</st1:place></st1:country-region>
in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months,
and there was a severe famine over all the land; yet Elijah was sent to none of
them except to a widow at Zarephath in <st1:city><st1:place>Sidon</st1:place></st1:city>.
There were also many lepers in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Israel</st1:place></st1:country-region>
at the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman
the Syrian.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Is
it just me or was Jesus being the aggressor? The people were amazed at his
gracious words. But once Jesus pushed back at them, they were ready to throw
him off a cliff. Literally. They took him to the edge of the cliff, and wanted
to throw him off. But he passed through their midst and went on his way. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
what changed? What changed between his sermon and his remarks at coffee hour? Part
of me wishes that he would have done what other preachers have done; thanked
everyone, then left to go get lunch. That would have saved him a whole lot of
trouble. But Jesus did not avoid trouble, and it would seem that in this
instance, he was determined to create trouble.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
was that what he was doing? Was he creating trouble for trouble’s sake? Or was
he pushing these folks – maybe some who had indeed known him since he was a
small boy, had tousled his hair or told him to stop running or picked him up
and brought him to his mother when he fell and scraped his knee – maybe Jesus
was pushing them not to cause trouble, but to make them aware of their own
hypocrisy. Maybe Jesus wanted them to understand that he had come not for the
people who thought they were God’s own, but for the people who did not. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Think
about the two stories he quoted. There were plenty of widows in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Israel</st1:place></st1:country-region>
who needed Elijah, but Elijah went to a widow who was an outsider. There were
plenty of lepers in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Israel</st1:place></st1:country-region>
who needed healing, but Elisha was sent to heal Naaman, a Syrian, an outsider. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
was proclaiming in the verses he quoted from Isaiah; that the good news was
about good news to the poor, release to the captives, sight to the blind and
letting the oppressed go free. That was good news indeed, but it was good news
that was not only for the people who thought it should be for them. It was for
the voiceless and the friendless and the powerless and the marginalized. And it
wasn’t just for the outsiders, the others also; it was for them first. It was
for the outsider and the stranger. And I think that is what set off the people
of Jesus’ hometown. They would get no favors from their hometown boy. They
would receive no special status because of him. He was not there for them first
and only. He was there for the others. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
he was not afraid to tell them this either. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
was an uncomfortable truth. It was gracious words with a question mark instead
of an exclamation point. It was something that perhaps they knew, but did not
want to acknowledge. It was good news that seemed more like bad news. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
here’s the thing; the gospel is good news that may also seem like bad news to us
as well. The gospel calls our assumptions about who we are and where we stand
with God into question. It calls our presumptions into sharp relief. The gospel
may seem very much like gracious words with a question mark. The gospel makes
us uncomfortable because it pushes us to see beyond ourselves, to see beyond
what we think we know or understand about God, about Jesus, and about the
people Jesus came to stand with and eat with and be with. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>These
are gracious words, but they have a bite to them and a sting. They call us to
look at ourselves and our motivations and take stock of our lives. But whether
it seems like it or not, that is good news. Those are gracious words. And
thanks be to God for them. Amen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-27093168448804381382019-02-05T10:23:00.003-06:002019-02-05T10:23:46.357-06:00Anointed<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>Luke 4:14-21</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="27" month="1" year="2019"><b>January 27, 2019</b></st1:date><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
first time I was ever asked to preach was when I was in seminary. That may
sound like an obvious time and place to be asked to preach for the first time,
but many of my classmates and friends had preached before they ever came to
seminary. For some it was the act of preaching that opened them up to the
possibility of being called into the ministry. But that was not my story. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
was walking across campus, moving from one class to another, talking with a
friend of mine. I spotted my home church pastor also walking across campus and
called hello to him. Home church has a different meaning for me than some. I
consider my home church to be the church I joined in <st1:place><st1:city>Richmond</st1:city>,
<st1:state>Virginia</st1:state></st1:place> when I was an adult. I grew up in
another denomination, and I would describe that church as the church I grew up
in. But I don’t think of it as my “home church.” Since I was in seminary in <st1:city><st1:place>Richmond</st1:place></st1:city>
and my home church was in <st1:city><st1:place>Richmond</st1:place></st1:city>,
it was not unusual that I would see my pastor. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We
stopped and talked for a few minutes. Then he asked me if I would be back in <st1:city><st1:place>Richmond</st1:place></st1:city>
for the Sunday after Christmas. I told him, “yes.” And then he asked me the big
question…will you preach for me on that Sunday? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Will
I?!!! You bet I’ll preach for you! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
was only after we parted company, and I got back to my apartment later that
day, that the reality of what I had just agreed to hit me. I am going to
preach. I am going to preach the Sunday after Christmas. I am going to preach
in my home church the Sunday after Christmas. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
was both excited and terrified. A friend and I sat and read through the
lectionary texts for that day, so I could consider what text I might choose. My
dad kept calling me with suggestions for texts. His choice was that I should
preach the resurrection story from John’s gospel, focusing on Mary proclaiming
that she had seen the Lord. Then I could also proclaim that more women were
needed and necessary to proclaim God’s good news to the world. I told him that
while I appreciated his advice, that wasn’t particularly helpful for my <i>first
</i>sermon. Although now, I kind of wish I had preached that. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
spent most of my time at home studying and reading and trying to think about
what I would write. Finally, a few days before I left I wrote out the sermon.
It was still a rough draft, but I thought I pretty much had it down. My father
read it and got choked up. My mother read it and outright cried. Oh and just as
an aside, in the midst of all of this, I had been in a terrible car accident a
few days before Christmas. My mother’s car was totaled. I had been taken to the
hospital in an ambulance. I hurt my knee, but I was fine. Yet I suspect my
parents were emotional not just for the sermon, but also because I was alive to
write it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Finally,
I got back to <st1:city><st1:place>Richmond</st1:place></st1:city>. It was the
Sunday after Christmas. I was dressed professionally in a new skirt and blouse.
I stood in the pulpit and read the lesson I had chosen from the gospel of Luke.
Then I began to preach. I was so nervous, I just kept my head down at first,
afraid to look up at the congregation. My hands were flat against the pulpit,
pushing the pages of my sermon down as if I were afraid they would suddenly fly
away. But by about the second page, I had started to warm to all of this a
little. I got a little more relaxed. I was making more eye contact. I was even
ready to use my hands, make some gestures, become more animated. So I raised my
right hand to make a point, and as my hand lifted up from the pulpit so did the
page from my sermon that it was resting on. My hands were so sweaty from
nerves, that the page was stuck to my hand. I quickly batted it back down to
the pulpit, and carried on. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That
was my first sermon. And the sermon we read in Luke’s gospel was Jesus’first.
It actually may not have been Jesus’ first sermon. But it was his first public
act of ministry, and it took place in the synagogue where he grew up, in his
hometown of <st1:city><st1:place>Nazareth</st1:place></st1:city>. Matthew, Mark
and Luke all record this story of Jesus preaching to his home “church,” but
only Luke places it in this particular time frame. As I said last week, each
gospel writer’s choice of what they record Jesus doing first is significant. It
is significant because it not only sets the stage, as it were, for Jesus’
ministry in that gospel, it also gives us another indication of what Jesus was
about; what he cared about, what his focus and purpose was, and what God wanted
to reveal through him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
wedding at <st1:place>Cana</st1:place> in John’s gospel was a sign that pointed
to the abundance of God. In Luke’s gospel, Jesus preaches a sermon in his
hometown. And while the verses in this week’s part of the story stop at a good
place, or at least a calmer place, next week we’ll read further on and see just
how ugly things turn when a hometown boy reveals he is far, far more than what
the people expected. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
for now, we end with Jesus’ words, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in
your hearing.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If
the wedding at <st1:place>Cana</st1:place> pointed to God’s abundance, what is
being revealed in this passage? What was Luke’s purpose in situating this
hometown sermon by Jesus in the prominent position of his first act of public
ministry? Perhaps the word “purpose” is our clue and our key. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
was filled with the power of the Spirit. When he was handed the scroll, he
chose these particular words, this particular passage from Isaiah to read.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“The
Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to
the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of
sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the
Lord’s favor.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Filled
with the power of the Spirit, Jesus stood up and read this passage from Isaiah,
then sat down and said essentially, “And guess what? This isn’t just a random
passage about some other person. This is a passage about me. Today the
scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What
was Luke’s purpose placing this story here in the gospel? It seems to me that
it was to make clear Jesus’ purpose. In using these verses from Isaiah, Jesus
was making it clear not only who he was – the expected, long awaited Messiah;
he was also proclaiming to the people of his hometown what his purpose was and with
whom he aligned. He was anointed. The literal definition of <i>anointed</i> as
a verb is “to be smeared with oil.” But the religious, theological definition
is one who is set apart, one who has divinity conferred upon him or her. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
stood before the people who knew him since he was a boy and said I am the
anointed one. I have been set apart by God. And as the anointed one, here is
who I align with; here is who I have come for: the poor, the oppressed, the
blind. I have come to be with those who have no voice. I have come to be with
those who have no power. This is who I am and this is my purpose. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When
I stood and preached that first sermon to my home church, I was not declaring
that I was the anointed one. But I was stating – without even realizing it –
that not only did I sense a calling from God, but that calling may just bring
me to a pulpit to proclaim the good news of the gospel. That is not only my
call, but it is also my purpose. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
stood before his hometown crowd and declared his purpose. And the rest of the gospel
of Luke, and Acts, turns on that purpose: to bring good news to the poor,
release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and to let the
oppressed go free.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We
too have been called. We too have been anointed, set apart, with a purpose from
God. Does our purpose align with the purpose Jesus stated in this sermon? In a
few minutes we will hold our annual meeting, and we will walk our way through
the packet of reports and minutes and statistics. My challenge to me, to you,
to all of us is to hold what we do up to what Jesus’ purpose was and is. Are we
in alignment? Are we following in his footsteps? Are we bringing good news to
the poor, release to the captives, sight to the blind and jubilee to those who
are oppressed? We have to do this, not only today but again and again, because
our purpose should always be Jesus’ purpose. He was anointed, set apart, and we
are called to follow the path he chose. What is our purpose – as individual
Christians, as the church? Our purpose is Jesus’ purpose. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Thanks
be to God. Amen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-52562734558521659602019-02-05T10:14:00.001-06:002019-02-05T10:14:26.234-06:00Up to the Brim<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>John 2:1-11</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="20" month="1" year="2019"><b>January 20, 2019</b></st1:date><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
saw a great cartoon the other day. It depicted a human and two cats. The
perspective was from the human point of view looking at the cats. You never
actually see the human’s face. The cats both wear expressions of startled
horror. The only words given were what the human was obviously saying to the
cats.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
know, you can eat the food at the bottom of the bowl.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Perhaps
this is really only funny to those of us who own cats or who have spent any
time with cats. But if you have spent time with cats, you get it. You get it,
because this is true all over. Now I grew up in a dog family. We never had
cats. My dad is not a cat person, which is the world’s greatest understatement.
But for some reason I believed the myth that cats are easier to have as pets,
for renters and for people with busy families. And in some ways they are
easier; until it comes to the food at the bottom of the bowl. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My
cat Pippin lets me know in no uncertain terms that he has reached apparently
the inedible food at the bottom his bowl. Usually this happens about <st1:time hour="16" minute="30">4:30</st1:time> in the morning. He used to wake me up by
knocking one thing at a time off my dresser until I opened my eyes. I always
knew when I slept really deeply because I would wake up to a whole pile of
things knocked from my dresser to the floor. Now, he just sits by me on the
bed, staring. If I don’t stir, he bats me on the forehead. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
don’t know why cats get uptight about emptying their food bowls. Maybe it’s
because they are just cats, and the dregs of last night’s dinner are not good
enough. Or maybe it’s instinctive. Instinctively they know the danger of
scarcity, and once that food is gone, perhaps they won’t get anymore. So rather
than let it run out, they don’t eat it and turn instead to letting their human
know that it’s never too early to feed the cat. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
food may still have been plenteous at the wedding feast in <st1:place>Cana</st1:place>,
but the wine had run out. The crux of this story – that Jesus turned water into
wine – is fairly well-known in the larger culture. It’s something that you
might hear a reference to in circles outside of the church. But the depths of
this story, and perhaps even the “why” of this story, are less known. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
wedding at <st1:place>Cana</st1:place> is just that: a wedding. But unlike the
ceremony that I am currently planning, a wedding in Jesus’ culture was not just
a one day event; it was at least a three day feast. I have read other
commentaries that state it was a seven day feast. If you are planning to feed
guests a feast for seven days, food and drink would have to be well planned and
abundant. This was not just an issue of showing off. It was about hospitality.
Hospitality, as you may know, was the foundation of that society. Hospitality
was important. It was intentional. It was part of the Law. So for this couple
and their families to run out of wine was not just about bad planning or a
shortage, it was a lack of hospitality. And running out of wine would have
brought shame on them. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
hearkening back to the Old Testament, the wine was also seen as a symbol of
blessing. Running out was serious. No wine, no blessing. So perhaps this gives
us a better understanding of why Jesus was called in by his mother to do
something about the wine. But to our ears, it may still seem somewhat frivolous.
Especially as this is the first act of public ministry by Jesus in John’s
gospel. Mark begins with an exorcism. Luke, as we will read next week, has
Jesus preaching as his first act of ministry. Matthew tells of Jesus calling
for repentance because the kingdom of heaven had drawn near. But John states
that Jesus’ first act of public ministry was by replenishing the refreshments
at a party that had gone off the rails. Interesting choice. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yet
just as the wine symbolized something greater to the people at that wedding, in
John’s gospel wine also symbolized something more; something deeper and more
profound. Wine was an eschatological symbol. It represented God’s abundance and
glory and blessing in the time to come. If that was what wine symbolized, then
let’s think about how much wine Jesus produced. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
would seem that the mother of Jesus – never called Mary in John’s gospel – was
one of the first to realize that the wine was almost gone. She turned to her
son for help. Jesus’ response to her sounds rude to our ears; but I think
rather than rudeness it was about distancing. This isn’t our concern. My time
has not yet come. But like any mother, she didn’t accept his answer. Instead
she turned to the servants and told them, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Do
whatever he tells you.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If
Jesus was reluctant at first, he gave in. He told the servants to fill up the
large stone jars meant for purification with water. And don’t just fill them,
he told them, fill them up to the brim. They did as he told them. He instructed
them to draw some out and give it to the chief steward – perhaps the wedding
planner or head caterer in our time – and the steward was amazed at what he
drank. He didn’t know where this fabulous wine came from, but he knew it was
better than any wine he had ever tasted. He told the bridegroom, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Everyone
serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have
become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Clearly
this was not like the wine in a box we might serve today. This was the good
stuff. And it wasn’t just a taste, it was abundant. It was filled up to the
brim. It was overflowing, gallon after gallon after gallon. This was the good
stuff. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This
was the good stuff, filled up to the brim and overflowing for the newlyweds and
their guests. And this is the good stuff filled up to the brim and overflowing
for us. That is the key to this story, to this passage, abundance. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
is an abundance of wine, filled up to the brim and overflowing. And it is an
abundance of God’s love and grace, filled up to the brim and overflowing. That
is the deeper meaning of this miracle at the wedding in <st1:place>Cana</st1:place>.
In John’s gospel, miracles are never called miracles. They are called signs.
And what do signs do but point to something else? Billboards on the road are
not there in and for themselves. They point to something else. Jesus’ sign of
turning water into wine points to the abundance of God’s love and grace and
glory for us now and for us to come. How wonderful and amazing it is to think
of God’s grace in this way, to think of the abundance of God’s love and glory,
just filled up to the brim for us and for God’s world.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yet
with thinking about all of this abundance, I cannot help but think about those
people and places who are decidedly without abundance; whether it is of the
material or of the physical or the emotional or spiritual kind. And I cannot
also help but think of how rarely I’m willing to see abundance in my own life.
How often do I lead from a place of scarcity? How often do I think only about what
I don’t have, what I may never have? How different would my life be if I could
trust in the abundance of God? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
don’t think I’m alone in this. I suspect that we humans are more like the cats
I described at the beginning of this sermon. Don’t we worry that once something
is gone, there won’t be anymore? What would the world look if individuals
focused more on abundance than scarcity? What would communities look like? What
would nations look like if we saw abundance rather than scarcity; if we could just
see that there is more than enough for everyone? What would this world look
like if we all believed, if we all trusted that God’s abundance of love, of
grace, of blessing, of the good was more than enough for everyone? What would
this world look like if we trusted God and trusted that God provides not just
enough, but filled up to the brim and overflowing? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Thanks
be to God. Amen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-79291166043106128582019-01-18T11:55:00.003-06:002019-01-18T11:55:37.781-06:00Baptized by Fire -- Baptism of the Lord<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>Luke 3:15-17,
21-22</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="13" month="1" year="2000"><b>January 13, 2019</b></st1:date></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
I didn’t know the
term “storm chaser” when I was in high school. To be honest, I could not have
conceived of anyone actually wanting to get in their car and follow a storm to
see what it would do and where it would go. But had I known about storm
chasers, I would have predicted that a good friend of mine would have become
one. My friend loved thunderstorms. Whenever there was a thunderstorm while we
were in school, she would run to the window of the classroom. If she was home,
she would run out on her front porch. She loved to be close to the storm. She
confided with me once that the whole world felt electrified and exciting during
a thunderstorm. The world came alive in a thunderstorm. The storm’s wildness
and excitement exhilarated her, and she wanted to be as much a part of the
storm as possible. She wanted to be close to it. That’s why she would go
outside when a big one would hit. Like I said, if I had known that storm
chasers existed, I would have bet good money that my friend would become one.
We’ve lost touch since high school graduation, and I suspect that in the years
since, she has changed as much as I have. However some things don’t change. I
suspect that she still runs to a window or a front porch whenever a big storm
rolls in. I imagine she still thinks the world comes more alive when lightning
lights up the sky and the heavens open with a wild frenzy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
consider this person a friend, a good friend, but I was not like her. I’m not a
storm person, and I certainly have no future as a storm chaser. I don’t mind
rain and even some thunder, but a wild and wooly storm does not motivate me to
run to the window or go stand outside on my driveway. A wild and wooly storm
sends under the covers. When I was a little girl, a really bad storm sent me
under the covers in my parents’ room or my sister’s. The rain would beat so
hard on the roof of our house, it sounded like it was going to finally push
through the ceiling and flood my bedroom. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When
I read these gospel words describing the heavens opening, this is what I think
of – rain and wind and lighting and thunder – all crashing down around my
head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But in this passage from Luke,
when the heavens opened something very different happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In this instance the heavens opening brought
the voice of God, and the Holy Spirit descending on him like a dove. When the
heavens opened in this story from our gospel passage, God’s voice spoke to
Jesus, confirming his full identity, “You are my Son, the Beloved, with you I
am well pleased.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
heavens opening are actually a familiar theme in Scripture. We read it in those
scriptures concerning the end times. The opening of the heavens often signals
that God’s presence is near or that angels or other heavenly beings are about
to descend. The opening of the heavens signifies that God’s blessings, God’s
mercy and God’s power are being unleashed on the world.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>All
of this happens around the baptism of Jesus. Luke puts his own unique spin on
the baptism of Jesus. In many ways, the baptism is described more passively
than it is in Mark or Matthew, while John does not tell the actual baptism part
of the story at all. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like John, Luke does not offer us a particular
description of the baptism itself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What
we do read is that after all the people who came to John the Baptist were
baptized, and after Jesus himself was baptized and praying, the heavens
opened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We could assume from what the
text says that Jesus waited in line to be baptized, same as the other folks.
Something else to consider is that in Luke’s gospel, the story of the baptism
of Jesus follows the section where we learn that John has been imprisoned by
Herod. Those are the verses left out in today’s story. John addresses the
crowds that came to be baptized by him, first by calling them a brood of vipers
and relating baptism very distinctly to repentance and forgiveness. Then when
the crowds were duly chastised and wondered what they should do, he gave them
instruction on how to live as people who have repented and been forgiven. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
All of this leads
to the statement in verse 15 that the people were filled with great expectation
as to whether or not John was the messiah they had been waiting for. Scholars
suspect that this might have been more of an issue than we realize, because all
of the gospel writers go to great pains to show that John denied this
vehemently. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“I baptize you
with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to
untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and
fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear the threshing floor and to
gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable
fire.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
As John said, he
was not the one. He baptized with water, but one was coming who would baptize
with the Holy Spirit and fire. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
There are
different connotations to the phrase, “baptized by fire,” beyond these words of
John the Baptist. Martyrdom, being burned at the stake, was a baptism by fire.
From what I have read the Mennonites hearken back to this meaning when they use
this particular phrase. But there are other connotations as well. If you start
a new job and immediately have to deal with difficulties or emergencies, you
are often considered baptized by fire. One definition of the phrase is the
first time soldiers face real combat. Another definition I found states that it
is “any experience that tests one’s courage, strength, etc. for the first
time.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
But what does it
mean for us, for us who have been baptized by water, for us who will remember
our baptisms a little later in the service? What does it mean for us to be
baptized by the Holy Spirit and fire? Is this just a one-time event, or is it
something that occurs over and over again, whenever the Holy Spirit blows
through our midst? What does it mean for us to have baptism connected to the
act of winnowing, of separating the wheat from the chaff? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
If one
understanding of baptism is that it symbolizes our adoption into the family of
God, the body of Christ, the church, then does this mean that our baptisms
separate us from others? Does a baptism by fire separate the good from the bad,
the believers from the unbelievers? Is that what is happening in the winnowing?
That’s certainly what it sounds like. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
One commentator
wrote that the description of One to come standing with his winnowing fork,
separating the wheat from the chaff, terrified and disturbed her. It conjured
up images of a “farmer God,” standing on the threshing floor separating the
good folks going to heaven from the bad ones going to hell. But I wonder if
something else is happening. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
I have never seen
wheat winnowed, but apparently the wheat is picked up on the winnowing fork and
flung into the air. The wind does the work of separating. The wind pulls the
chaff away from the wheat, and then the chaff is burned. If this is what
happens to us with the coming of the Holy Spirit, with a baptism by fire, then
maybe it isn’t so much about us being separated from them; good, saved,
baptized ones from bad, unsaved, un-baptized ones. Maybe it is about the chaff
within us, within each of us being lifted away, separated out. Maybe the
winnowing happens within each of us. Being baptized by the Holy Spirit,
baptized by fire, might just be an experience of being shaken up, stirred up,
flung into the metaphorical air so that the wind can take away that chaff.
Maybe being baptized by fire is about burning away that within us which keeps
us from God, keeps us from being in relationship with God and with all of God’s
children. Perhaps being baptized by fire is what must happen, over and over
again if necessary, to burn away that chaff that exists in ourselves. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
I realize that
this does not necessarily sound comforting. Being baptized by fire is not a
sweetness and light, warm fuzzy kind of thing. But if our baptisms claim us and
name us, if they mark us as God’s own, then it seems to me that being baptized
by fire, being shaken up by the Holy Spirit, is also a part of the naming and
claiming and marking. It seems to me that to be baptized by the Holy Spirit and
fire is not about harming but healing. It’s not about separation into eternal
categories, but about being made more whole, more complete. It is about being
refined and cleansed and burnished and polished until we reflect ever more
clearly the image of the One in which we were made. Being baptized by the Holy
Spirit and fire is good news. It is good news indeed. Thanks be to God. Amen.</div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-20986263531982105272019-01-09T15:49:00.002-06:002019-01-09T15:49:11.974-06:00Our Light Has Come -- Epiphany<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>Matthew 2:1-12</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="6" month="1" year="2000"><b>January 6, 2019</b></st1:date></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222;">I wandered so aimless life filled with
sin</span><span style="color: #222222;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">I wouldn't let my dear savior in</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Then Jesus came like a stranger in the night</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Praise the Lord I saw the light</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">I saw the light I saw the light</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">No more darkness no more night</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Now I'm so happy no sorrow in sight</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Praise the Lord I saw the light<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Even if
you’re not a country music or a Hank Williams fan, you may recognize the
opening lyrics and chorus of Hank’s iconic song, “I Saw the Light.” As the song
goes, his life was shut up in darkness, sin and pointless wanderings away from
God. Then one day, “like a stranger in the night,” Jesus came into his life and
he saw the light. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This is a
great song. I hadn’t heard it in years, and when I was thinking about using it,
I went back and listened again to Hank Williams’ plaintive voice declaring that
out of a life of spiritual blindness and waste, he finally saw Jesus and he
finally saw the light. But did you know that the inspiration for this song
really was a light? It was not a celestial light from the heavens – although
perhaps it seemed like it was. It was a real, physical, tangible light. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Hank and his band were driving back to </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Nashville</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="background: white; color: #222222;"> in the dead of the night after a gig
somewhere. This was long before </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Nashville</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="background: white; color: #222222;"> had a skyline with light that
illuminated the landscape for miles. Hank looked out into that looming darkness
and saw the light of the WSM radio tower. WSM was and is the station for the
Grand Ole Opry, and its tower is unlike any radio tower that I have ever seen.
It stands like a strange obelisk, reaching into the sky; and on that night when
Hank Williams and his band mates were driving through the pitch black, the
light from the WSM tower must have seemed like the light from a lighthouse guiding
tired travelers home. Maybe it did indeed seem like a light from the heavens.
But however Williams perceived it, it inspired this song. Praise the Lord, I
saw the light!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222;">I’m not sure that Hank Williams would
have used this term, but what he described in the song was an epiphany. He saw
the light, and when he saw this light, it illuminated the darkness he had been
living in. If you’ve given any attention to your bulletin, you know already
that today is Epiphany. Today is the feast of Epiphany, and we are now entering
into the season of Epiphany; the season of light. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Although in our Christmas pageants we
conflate the shepherds and the wise men together, having all of them show up at
the manger on the same night, it is more likely true that the magi took several
months to make their way to Bethlehem. It would have been an arduous trip. I
have always been taught that these magi hailed from </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Persia</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">, but one scholar that I read just
recently stated that it is quite possible they came from </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Babylon</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">. The magi, the title that give us our
word, “magic,” were not magicians, but they were the astronomers of their day.
They studied the stars. And while art and pictures, such as the one on the
cover of our bulletin, depict three men on camels following a star, we don’t
really know just how many magi there were. Matthew’s text gives us no count.
They brought three gifts, so we assume there were three of them. Yet,
regardless of their number, these men who watched the sky recognized that a
great king had been born. They understood that this king was not your regular
royal, and making the trip to pay him homage was the only right response. They
saw the light. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222;">How interesting that in Matthew’s gospel
– a gospel which is considered by scholars to be a very Jewish centered gospel
– the first people to witness to the coming of the Light of the world were
gentiles. Not only were they gentiles, they were quite likely from the heart of
the empire that had conquered </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Israel</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="background: white; color: #222222;"> and dispersed its people to the far
corners of the earth. These magi were the epitome of outsiders, others. But
this did not prevent them from recognizing the birth of Jesus. Their otherness
did not stop them from understanding that with the birth of Jesus, the world
shifted. They were the other, but they still saw the light. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222;">And while it is tempting to
sentimentalize this story, just as we do the nativity in Luke’s gospel, the
danger it describes is quite real. Our verses stop before Herod executes his
horrific plan. But as biblical scholar Karoline Lewis wrote, Herod is a perfect
example of what happens when oppressive power is confronted with truth. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Herod was no dummy. He knew that what
the magi told him about the birth of a new king was a real threat to him and to
his throne. He showed that he was willing to eradicate that threat by whatever
means necessary. And he did. His quest to remain in power made refugees of
Jesus, Mary and Joseph, and it wreaked death and slaughter on innocents and
their families. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222;">No, the story of the magi, the story of
Epiphany is not a sweet story. Nor is it a sentimental one. But it is the story
of God that we see throughout the arc of the Bible. It is the story of God
working through unlikely people in uncertain circumstances to bring about God’s
purposes for this world, for God’s children, for us. The story of Epiphany is light
shining in the darkness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222;">The story of Epiphany is our story. We
still live in a dangerous and dark world. It is a world still filled with
Herods, willing to end threats to their power by whatever means necessary. But
our world is also God’s world. And God is still working God’s purposes through
unlikely people from unlikely places and in unlikely circumstances. God is
still calling us to see God’s light shining in the darkness. Epiphany is a
season, but it is also a reality. It is wherever we see the light of God. It is
whenever we feel compelled to follow a star. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Take a moment and think of when you have
experienced epiphany, of when you have seen the light of God. Take a moment and
remember your own stories. Epiphany does not belong to the magi. Epiphany is
ours. It is our moments of seeing the light. It is our witness to the birth of
a baby and to the resurrection of a Son. It is our stories. So think of a
moment, a time, a place when you have seen the light. Think of this and give
thanks that our light has come. I’ve seen the light. You’ve seen the light.
Praise the Lord, we’ve seen the light. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Let all God’s children say, “Alleluia!”
Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-88853586370125701202018-12-27T12:17:00.003-06:002018-12-27T12:17:43.532-06:00From the Little Ones -- Fourth Sunday of Advent<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>Micah 5:2-5a</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="23" month="12" year="2018"><b>December 23, 2018</b></st1:date><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<b><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></b>I
wonder sometimes if I am losing my ability to be surprised by the sadness and
badness of the world around us. I am often shocked, horrified, appalled,
saddened, angered, outraged, disgusted, dismayed and disappointed – but sadly,
I’m losing my ability to be surprised. I don’t like that. It suggests to me
that I am becoming cynical and skeptical and just plain tired. Another mass
shooting – I’m angry and sad and horrified, but not surprised. Another viral
video of racism on parade – I’m sickened and angry and frustrated, but not
surprised. A horrific natural disaster – probably made more extreme by climate
change – I’m worried and heartbroken and anxious, but not surprised. Terrorism,
horrified but not surprised. Disgraceful government antics – disheartened and
fed up, but not surprised. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Yesterday, I read
on a Presbyterian website that our sisters and brothers at First Presbyterian
Church had their church vandalized in the last few days. Someone or some ones
broke in and went on a rampage. Musical instruments in the sanctuary were
turned over and broken. The Christmas tree was knocked to the floor. Glass was
broken. Holes were gouged in tiled walls. It was far more than an act of
criminal mischief. There was hatred behind it. Again, I am horrified and
appalled and confused by such hatred, but I am not terribly surprised.
Considering the history our congregation has with acts like this, maybe you’re
not surprised either. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
I guess I’m just
not surprised anymore by the ways in which hatred and ignorance and fear
manifest themselves in our world. There is no way to hide from the darkness of
the world that surrounds us. There is no way to avoid the brokenness of our
world, of our species. We are caught up in it. We are also broken and wounded
and hurting. So as sad as I am to admit it, I am not very often surprised by
the dreadful ways our brokenness and sinfulness makes itself known. I don’t
like to admit that, but I think it’s true. Don’t misunderstand me. I am not
resigned to the brokenness. I am not immune to it. I rage against it. But I am
not surprised. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
here’s the thing, while the world’s brokenness may be unsurprising, our God is
a God of surprise. There are many names for God, but if God has a middle name,
it’s “Surprise!” It’s often said that since “Do not fear” is repeated 365 times
in the scriptures, we have a daily reminder to let go of our fear. I love that
and wholeheartedly subscribe to it. But to “do not fear,” I think we should
add, “but be surprised.” God surprises us again and again and again by working
through unexpected people in unlikely circumstances. God surprises us again and
again by bringing good out of bad, order out of chaos, and hope out of what
seems hopeless. God surprises over and over again by calling forth greatness,
hope and salvation from the little ones. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
darkness and brokenness of which I speak are not unique to us or to our
particular context are they? Micah and the people he prophesied to were no
strangers to the darkness. Our text from Micah is beautiful and poetic, but it
is set in a larger context. If we read beyond the verses selected for us this
morning, we will read about that darkness, about the ever-looming disaster that
Micah and the people of <st1:country-region><st1:place>Israel</st1:place></st1:country-region>,
of <st1:country-region><st1:place>Judah</st1:place></st1:country-region> faced.
In other verses he told the people that <st1:country-region><st1:place>Judah</st1:place></st1:country-region>
would be plowed into a field and that <st1:city><st1:place>Jerusalem</st1:place></st1:city>
would lie in ruins. Micah knew and understood just how dark, just how broken
the times in which he lived were. He did not mince his words about it either.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yet,
surprise! In the midst of all this darkness and brokenness and destruction –
much of which the leaders and the people brought on themselves – there is a
word of hope. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“But
you, O Bethlehem of Ephrathah, who are one of the little clans of <st1:country-region><st1:place>Judah</st1:place></st1:country-region>,
from you shall come forth for me one who is to rule in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Israel</st1:place></st1:country-region>,
whose origin is from old, from ancient days.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>From
<st1:city><st1:place>Bethlehem</st1:place></st1:city>, from one of the little
clans of <st1:country-region><st1:place>Judah</st1:place></st1:country-region>,
from one of the little ones, shall come one who is to rule in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Israel</st1:place></st1:country-region>.
And although this hearkens greatly to King David, who was also from <st1:city><st1:place>Bethlehem</st1:place></st1:city>
and a shepherd, the one who is to come will not lead as the former leaders, the
former kings have done. This one will lead as a shepherd leads. This one will
“stand and feed his flock in the strength of the Lord, in the majesty of the
name of the Lord his God.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This
one will bring true security. This won’t be the kind of security that the world
offers – financial accounts and video cameras. This will be the kind of
security that only comes from God. This will be the kind of security that comes
from the one who brings peace, who is peace. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>From
the little ones will come God’s salvation. From the little ones will come the
one who is peace. From the little ones will come the leader Micah and all the
other people longed for, waited for, hoped for. From the little ones will come
the one we too yearn and wait for, expectantly and with great hope. That is the
word of hope we have from Micah, and that is the story we read in Luke. I’m
assuming that God could not have chosen two more unlikely or unexpected people
than Elizabeth and Mary. Elizabeth, an old woman and Mary a young one, were
both expecting unlikely children in the most unlikely of circumstances. Elizabeth,
who was long past her childbearing years, was not expecting a son to be named
John. And when that baby, still tucked securely inside his mother’s womb, heard
Mary’s voice, he leaped for joy. The Holy Spirit did not wait for John to be
born to work in his life. Even in utero, John recognized the one, the One, who
was to come. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
what about Mary? Mary, so young and at least to worldly eyes of no great
importance, would bear the Savior into the world. Why would she be the one
chosen? She had no rank, no office. She was not situated in a palace as a
queen; instead she was a lowly young woman engaged to a carpenter. There seemed
to be nothing very extraordinary about her. She was just an ordinary young
woman preparing for an ordinary life. But surprise! Our God of surprises had
other plans and other purposes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>From
this little one would come salvation. From this little one would come new hope
and new creation. From this little one would come God’s great surprise. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Maybe
I have lost my ability to be surprised by the world and its brokenness, but if
Micah’s words teach us anything it’s that we should never lose our ability to
be surprised by God. Isn’t that what wonder really is? It’s always being
willing to be surprised, to be elated by the unexpected and the unlikely? Micah’s
word is a word of hope to a dark and broken world. From the little ones, the
unexpected ones, the unlikely ones God’s purposes will be fulfilled, God’s will
be done, God’s salvation will come. From the little ones. From the little ones.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Thanks
be to God. Amen. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-30847046308979787392018-12-26T20:46:00.000-06:002018-12-26T20:46:06.890-06:00Fields -- Christmas Eve Service<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Luke 2:1-20</span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Isn’t it a wonder <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">that God went to the fields <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">instead of the palace?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Isn’t it strange <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">that God chose a<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">young woman <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">and a carpenter,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">and a cattle stall?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Isn’t it amazing <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">that those heavenly hosts<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">filled the night sky with their songs for <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">shepherds not sovereigns?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Isn’t it a wonder<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">that God went to the fields <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">instead of the palace?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Of all the names we have<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">for God,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">maybe Emmanuel<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">God-with-us<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">is most apt,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">most fitting,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">most right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">At least on this night<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">this holy night,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">when God was born<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">as one of us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">This is the night<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">when mystery and matter meet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">This is the night <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">when a newborn’s cry <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">is another kind of heavenly song.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Making known <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">to the world<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">this world, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">our world<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">that God is here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">We are not alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">We are not abandoned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">We are not forgotten. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Do not be afraid. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Isn’t it a wonder<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">that God went to the fields<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">instead of the palace?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Who else lies <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">waiting in quiet fields<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">this night,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">this holy night?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">What others, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">outsiders,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">forgotten and lost ones,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">lie waiting <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">in fields<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">and deserts,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">alleys<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">and shelters<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">waiting to hear<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">an angel’s song?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Waiting to thrill<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">at the sound of good news,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">glad tidings,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">words of hope and joy and promise<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">for all? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">God still goes to the fields <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">before the palace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">God still chooses <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">young women, old men,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">carpenters and cleaners,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">waitresses and truck drivers,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">refugees and restless ones,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">and shepherds before sovereigns.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Isn’t it a wonder?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Isn’t it amazing?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Isn’t it good news,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">and glad tidings of great joy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">that God is our Emmanuel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">God-with-us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">God. With. Us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-90320820296707185992018-12-19T16:35:00.002-06:002018-12-19T16:35:51.257-06:00In Our Midst -- Third Sunday of Advent<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>Zephaniah 3:14-20</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="16" month="12" year="2018"><b>December 16, 2018</b></st1:date><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“My
life flows on in endless song, above earth’s lamentation. I hear the clear,
though far off hymn that hails a new creation. No storm can shake my inmost
calm while to this Rock I’m clinging. Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth,
how can I keep from singing?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>One
of the hardest parts of sermon writing for me is just getting started. How do I
begin? What opening illustration do I use? What will my opening sentence, my
first line be? I took enough journalism classes in college to know that the
leading line of any story has to be what grabs your reader, your listeners, or,
so it would seem, your congregation. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
I spend a lot of time praying and thinking and pondering what a sermon needs to
proclaim from beginning to end. And I was pondering this sermon, the words to
the hymn, “My Life Flows On,” kept running through my head. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“How
can I keep from singing?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
probably heard this hymn as a child, but if so I didn’t pay much attention to
it. But since the publication of <i>Glory to God</i>, our newest hymnal, I have
become a huge fan of this hymn. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“My
life flows on in endless song above earth’s lamentation. I hear the clear
though far off hymn that hails a new creation.” “How can I keep from singing?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Scholar
Deborah A. Block wrote,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“In
these weeks [of Advent] we hear from Malachi, Jeremiah, Zephaniah, Isaiah and
Micah. The prophet is as much the voice of Advent as is the evangelist. Why?
Prophets say what no one wants to hear, what no one wants to believe. Prophets
point in directions no one wants to look. They hear God when everybody else has
concluded God is silent. They see God where nobody else would guess that God is
present. They feel God. Prophets feel God’s compassion for us, God’s anger with
us, God’s joy in us. They dream God’s dreams and utter wake up calls; they hope
God’s hopes and announce a new future; they will God’s will and live it against
all odds. Prophets sing God’s song and sometimes interrupt the program with a
change of tune. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
These verses from
the prophet Zephaniah are an interruption in the program. They are a change of
tune. If we left out these verses, Zephaniah would be more a prophet of
lamentation and despair than rejoicing. But these verses? This song? This is a
song of joy. Zephaniah is not a regular in our worship. While we may read texts
from Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Micah and Amos on a more usual basis, Zephaniah
only appears twice in our lectionary cycle, and this Sunday is one of them. The
infrequency of readings from this prophet does not make his words less
important; on the contrary, when they appear we should pay more attention. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Zephaniah heard
his prophetic call and found his prophetic voice in the reign of King Josiah of
<st1:country-region><st1:place>Judah</st1:place></st1:country-region>.
According to scholars, King Josiah is remembered in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Israel</st1:place></st1:country-region>’s
history as the last good king, on par with King David. However, Zephaniah saw a
different reality. He saw corruption, idolatry and injustice. As prophets do,
he proclaimed to any who would listen that God’s punishment for these sins
would be on a cosmic scale. It doesn’t take a prophetic call to know that
eventually we all reap what we sow, and Zephaniah saw a harvest of great
calamity. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
But Zephaniah also
saw something else; a time when even God would sing a song of rejoicing. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“On that day it
shall be said to <st1:city><st1:place>Jerusalem</st1:place></st1:city>: Do not
fear, O Zion; do not let your hands grow weak. The Lord, your God, is in your
midst, a warrior who gives victory; he will rejoice over you with gladness, he
will renew you in his love; he will exult over you with loud singing as on a
day of festival.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Even
God will sing, and this song from Zephaniah calls us to sing as well; to
rejoice, to exult, to let go of our fear, and to trust that God is in our
midst. Zephaniah states that last promise twice. God is in our midst. God is in
our midst. The original audience who heard these words must have felt a mix of
skepticism and hope. Things were pretty bad. It would be easy to believe that
God was not only absent, but had abandoned them to themselves forever. But
Zephaniah proclaimed that the people were to sing with joy, to rejoice, because
not only was God in their midst, God would sing with them. God would exult with
them. God was in their midst, and God would join in the triumph song. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We
may not be on the verge of a Babylonian invasion as the people were in
Zephaniah’s time, but with the world as it is, it’s not hard to believe that
disaster looms on the edge of our own horizon. Injustice is rife. Corruption is
real. We are masters at creating our own idols. There seem a billion and one
reasons not to sing, and a billion and two more not to rejoice, but the promise
of Zephaniah that God was in the midst of the people of Judah is true for us as
well. God is in our midst. God is not silent or on a prolonged leave of
absence. God is in our midst. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>How
do we know that God is in our midst? Is it because we recognize God in the
kindness of one stranger helping another? Is it because we see God when the
morning arrives right on time after a long, dark night of the soul? Is it
because we meet God in a word of hope when we think that all is really
hopeless? How do we know that God is in our midst, even when we cannot see God,
even when we don’t recognize God? We trust and we hope and we believe, and we
accept that the moments of joy we experience – even when they are brief – are
of God and from God. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We
accept that the moments of joy we experience – even when they are brief – are
of God and from God.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That’s
what today is – a day of joy. It is the third Sunday of Advent and it is the
day of rejoicing. If you look at the light display done so beautifully by Jayne
in our window, you’ll see that the pink candle is lit. That’s the symbol for
joy. It is as if joy interrupts and inserts itself on this day. Joy and its
song interrupt our regular programming and insert a new tune. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>God
is in our midst, how can we keep from rejoicing? God is in our midst, how can
we keep from celebrating? God is in our midst, how can we keep from singing?
God is in our midst and God is singing with us. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“My
life flows on in endless song, above earth’s lamentation. I hear the clear,
though far off hymn that hails a new creation. No storm can shake my inmost
calm while to this Rock I’m clinging. Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth,
how can I keep from singing?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>God
is in our midst! Give praise! Give thanks! Rejoice! How can we keep from
singing? How can we keep from singing? Let all of God’s children say,
“Alleluia! Amen.”</div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-2582150379616669652018-12-05T14:13:00.001-06:002018-12-05T14:13:05.327-06:00The Days Are Surely Coming -- First Sunday of Advent<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>Jeremiah 33:14-16</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="2" month="12" year="2018"><b>December 2, 2018</b></st1:date><b> <o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“A
little bit of this. A little bit of that.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“A pot. A pan. A
broom. A hat.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Someone should
have set a match to this place years ago.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“A bench. A tree.
So what’s a stove? Or a house?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“People who pass
through Anatevka don’t even know they’ve been here.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“A stick of wood.
A piece of cloth.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“What do we leave?
Nothing much. Only Anatevka.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Others
may cry at the song “<st1:city><st1:place>Sunrise</st1:place></st1:city>,
Sunset,” with its lyrics about children growing up in a flash, in a blink of an
eye, and I do too – especially the older I get. But no song can move me to
tears as readily as “Anatevka.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
For those who may
not be so familiar with these songs, they are from the musical <i>Fiddler on
the Roof. Fiddler</i> tells the story of Jewish residents living in the little <st1:place><st1:placetype>village</st1:placetype>
of <st1:placename>Anatevka</st1:placename></st1:place> in late 19<sup>th</sup>
century <st1:country-region><st1:place>Russia</st1:place></st1:country-region>.
In particular it tells the story of Tevya, the poor milkman, and his wife
Golde, a woman who does not suffer fools, especially her husband, and their
five daughters. The story of the daughters focuses on the three eldest:
Tzeitel, Hodel and Chava. With all the amazing musicals that have been written
since the premier of “Fiddler on the Roof,” and there have been many, Fiddler
is still one of my favorites. Someday I’ll see it on Broadway, but for now I
find comfort in the movie version. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Anatevka” is sung toward the end of the
movie. The villagers have experienced the highs of a wedding and new babies and
the low of a small pogrom. I use the adjective small, because in the movie it
is a described as a “demonstration.” Although most of the villagers were unable
to read, news of violent and increasing pogroms against other Jews in the
country spread fast. Anti-Semitism was alive and well – then and now. Now the
people have gotten word that they are to be evicted from the only home they
have ever known. One man asks their beloved rabbi the question: </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Rabbi,
we’ve waited so long for the Messiah, wouldn’t now be a good time for him to
come?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
Rabbi responds with great stoicism and resolve,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Now
we’ll have to wait for him someplace else.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
the villagers try to wrap their heads around this new reality, they show the
same stoic acceptance as the Rabbi. Anatevka. A little bit of this. A little
bit of that. A pot. A pan. A broom. A hat. What do we leave? Nothing much. Only
Anatevka. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What
is so beautiful and powerful about this song to me, is that while it is sung
with resignation, implicit in the lyrics and in the performance is longing.
They long for what they will no longer have. They long for the home they are
leaving, even while they still stand within its boundaries. They long for
something that seems will never be theirs: a home that lasts, a place all their
own, a home that cannot be taken or moved. They can imagine this home. They can
see it in their minds’ eye: home. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
people of Anatevka were exiles in the middle of the only place they’d ever
known. It would seem that this is one of many ways they stood on the shoulders
of their ancestors; they who were also exiles. The people of <st1:country-region><st1:place>Judah</st1:place></st1:country-region>
and <st1:country-region><st1:place>Israel</st1:place></st1:country-region> were
exiled from their land, exiled from their homes, exiled it would seem even from
their God. God who had brought them out of the <st1:place><st1:placetype>land</st1:placetype>
of <st1:placename>Egypt</st1:placename></st1:place> must have seemed very far
away, as they learned how to adapt to a different culture, a different way of
being and doing. Lets not forget that the reason the people of <st1:country-region><st1:place>Israel</st1:place></st1:country-region>
and <st1:country-region><st1:place>Judah</st1:place></st1:country-region> were
in exile was because of their own transgressions. Defeat and exile by the
Babylonians was seen as punishment for their sins. The prophets, Isaiah, Amos,
Ezekiel, Malachi, Micah, Daniel, Hosea, and Jeremiah all warn the people over
and over again to consider the consequences of what they do, how they live, how
they treat others. To be a prophet was not necessarily to be gifted with the
ability to predict the future. To be a prophet was to hear God speaking, yes,
but it was also to interpret God’s word in the midst of circumstances. You
treat the poor, the widow and the orphan, unjustly and cruelly, that will come
back to you. You exploit the land and your neighbor; that will come back to
you. You turn your backs on the one true God and worship false idols and bow to
foreign gods; that will come back to you. And when it does come back to you,
when your sins and transgressions finally catch up with you, you will find
yourselves in a strange place, in a strange life, and you will long for home.
You will long for God. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Most
of Jeremiah is about the punishment of the people’s transgressions. As one
scholar put it, the punishment is so severe that even God laments. None of the
warnings were heeded, and now the people suffer. They face their apparent
extinction. But in the midst of this terrible suffering, there are verses of
hope. There are words of comfort. Even though their entire world is crumbling
down around them, they are called to imagine another way, another life. They
are called to hope. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“The
days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made
to the house of <st1:country-region><st1:place>Israel</st1:place></st1:country-region>
and to the house of <st1:country-region><st1:place>Judah</st1:place></st1:country-region>.
In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for
David; and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In those
days <st1:country-region><st1:place>Judah</st1:place></st1:country-region> will
be saved and <st1:city><st1:place>Jerusalem</st1:place></st1:city> will live in
safety. And this is the name by which it will be called: ‘The Lord is our
righteousness.’”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
days are surely coming. We are now in the season of Advent; as <st1:city><st1:place>Alice</st1:place></st1:city>
wrote in her newsletter article, we are in the sacred New Year. Advent does not
respect the logical progression of time as we understand it. It looks to the
future, even as it lifts up the past. We find our reasons to be faithful in
memory, but we also look forward to the days that are surely coming. Advent
encompasses what is called the prophetic imagination. Jeremiah, along with the
other prophets in our scriptures, calls us to imagine what the world can look
like and what it will look like. We are called in this passage from Jeremiah,
not only to trust that the days are surely coming, but to imagine those days;
to see them clearly and vividly and hopefully. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
days are surely coming, can you imagine it? The days are surely coming, can you
see it? The days are surely coming; can you feel your hope rising up out of the
ashes of the world that seems to crumbling all around us? The days are surely
coming, when a righteous Branch will spring forth from a burned out old stump.
The days are surely coming, can you imagine? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Just
as the people of Anatevka longed for home, and just as the people of <st1:country-region><st1:place>Judah</st1:place></st1:country-region>
and <st1:country-region><st1:place>Israel</st1:place></st1:country-region>
longed for home, Advent is our time to long for what can be. Advent is our time
to imagine what will be. Advent is our time to unleash our hope, to let it
loose and wild in the world. Advent is our time to imagine a world with no need
for refuge because all have a home, no need for food programs, because all have
enough to eat, no need for defense budgets, because wars will be fought no
more. Advent is a time to imagine and to hope and trust that the days are
surely coming. Thanks be to God. Amen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-12558576293288431232018-11-27T11:22:00.000-06:002018-11-27T11:22:03.554-06:00A New Kind of Royal -- Christ the King Sunday<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>John 18:33-38</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="25" month="11" year="2018"><b>November 25, 2018</b></st1:date><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This
may be a very big, very wrong assumption on my part, but I suspect that
everyone here as at least heard about a certain prince who married a certain
commoner last May. If my assumption is wrong – not everyone is as obsessed with
them as I am – and you don’t know who I’m referring to, I’ll fill you in.
Prince Harry, second son of Prince Charles and fifth in line of succession to
the throne of <st1:country-region><st1:place>England</st1:place></st1:country-region>,
married Megan Markle last May. Some of you may not care that Prince Harry and
Megan Markle got married, and that’s perfectly fine. But I would be surprised
if you didn’t know at least a little about them, because for one thing their
wedding was all over the news. Even more, it would be hard to have missed their
wedding because Megan Markle is not your typical royal. What has been so
surprising and so refreshing about this royal marriage is not just that it
happened, but because of who Markle is. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
She is American –
that should have been strike one. She is divorced – that should have been
strike two. And she is of a multi-cultural background. Her mother is African
American. Her father is white. That should have definitely been strike three. Once
upon a time, any one of those factors would have completely and utterly knocked
Markle out of the running to be royal. It has not been that many years since
Prince Harry’s great uncle abdicated his throne because he was not allowed to
marry his divorced American squeeze. Yes, I said, “squeeze.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
It takes
permission from the Queen for a royal to marry, and she gave her grandson
permission to marry this divorced American with a multi-cultural heritage.
Times are a changing, and those changes are even being felt in <st1:country-region><st1:place>England</st1:place></st1:country-region>’s
monarchy. While it would seem that most people have accepted, even embraced,
Megan as a new kind of royal – after all their wedding was watched by millions
of people around the globe, including yours truly – her marriage into the royal
family was not welcomed by everyone. One comment that was made by a person
connected with the British government was that Markle would “taint the royal
blood line with her seed, making way for a black king and a Muslim Prime
Minister.” I’m not making this up. I wish I were. But Megan Markle is a different
kind of royal. She is a new kind of royal; one that doesn’t fit the previous
mold of who a royal was and where a royal came from. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
If anyone did not
fit the mold of what it meant to be a royal, it would be Jesus. He was a new
kind of royal indeed. Our passage from John’s gospel may seem unexpected this
morning. The meeting between Jesus and Pontius Pilate is one we expect to hear
during Holy Week, but on Christ the King Sunday this exchange between Pilate
and Jesus rings true and relevant. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
The religious
authorities did not have the power to have someone executed. That was up to the
Roman state. That is why Pilate was brought in. These same leaders could also
not enter Pilate’s headquarters without becoming ritually unclean. So they had
Jesus taken to Pilate, but would not be there to witness the conversation
between the two men. The religious leaders wanted Pilate to do their dirty work
for them. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Pilate must have
understood this, and I imagine that if we could go back in time and listen in,
we would hear his understanding in his tone of voice. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Are you the King
of the Jews?” might sound more like, “So you’re the King of the Jews, are you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Jesus, ever aware
of the verbal traps laid for him, would not give him a direct answer in return.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Do you ask this
on your own, or did others tell you about me?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
King of the Jews
would have meant something different to the religious leaders than it would
have to Pilate. To Pilate, a King of the Jews would have been a political
threat, a potential political upstart. A King rising from the Jews might have
been someone poised to revolt against Roman rule and threaten not only Pilate’s
position of power, but Roman power as well. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
the religious leadership, those priests and scribes, saw the claim of Jesus
being the King of the Jews as someone believed to be anointed as Messiah. Jesus
was not just claiming to be another kind of religious authority; he was
claiming to be <i>the</i> authority. He was <i>the</i> Truth, <i>the</i> Way, <i>the</i>
Life. This was also a threat to their power. From both perspectives, from
Pilate’s and from the religious leadership, this threat had to be eradicated.
If there were going to be a King of the Jews, it could certainly not be this
particular man, this very different, unexpected, very new kind of royal. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
was definitely a new and, to some, an unwelcome kind of royal. His royalty was
what Pilate was trying to get at with his interrogation of him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When
Jesus responded with his question about who told Pilate about Jesus’ kingship,
Pilate answered,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m
not a Jew am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to
me. What have you done?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
still did not give him a straight or satisfactory answer. Instead he said, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“My
kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my
followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But
as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pilate
just wants an answer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“So
you are a king?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world,
to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my
voice.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What
is truth?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My
kingdom is not from this world. Jesus was a new kind of royal, and his kingdom
was a new kind of realm. Jesus’ answer was not so much about who he was, but
about where he was from. His kingship and his identity as king was and is tied
up in where Jesus came from, more specifically who he came from. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My
kingdom is not from this world. That means that it does not look like the
kingdoms of this world. It does not sound like the kingdoms of this world. It
does not seek to rule like the kingdoms of this world. It is not like the
kingdoms of this world. Jesus was and is a new kind of royal, which means that
his kingdom – the <st1:place><st1:placetype>kingdom</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename>God</st1:placename></st1:place>
– was a new kind of kingdom as well. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What
does this mean for us? What does it mean that Jesus, our Savior, our Sovereign
and our King is a new and unexpected kind of royal with a new and unexpected
kind of kingdom? I know that I have preached this before, but one thing that we
need to understand about the <st1:place><st1:placetype>kingdom</st1:placetype>
of <st1:placename>God</st1:placename></st1:place> is that it is not a
geographic location. It is not a particular place that you can point to on a
map or that you can journey to only in the next life. Amy Johnson Frykholm, a
writer for <i>The Christian Century</i>, wrote that she used to believe the
kingdom was something you could build, something that believers could
definitively grasp, but she has begun to believe that the <st1:place><st1:placetype>kingdom</st1:placetype>
of <st1:placename>God</st1:placename></st1:place> is something you see in
glimpses, something that you recognize in a flash of a moment, a glimmer of a
second. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Whatever
our understanding of the <st1:place><st1:placetype>kingdom</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename>God</st1:placename></st1:place>
may be, our clearest glimpse of it is through Jesus – this new kind of royal.
Through him we see that the <st1:place><st1:placetype>kingdom</st1:placetype>
of <st1:placename>God</st1:placename></st1:place> is built not on
authoritarianism but on servant leadership. It is built not on control, but on
hope. It is built not on power but on love. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Again,
what does this mean for us? What does observing Christ the King Sunday mean for
us? I think that recognizing that Jesus was and is a new kind of royal, with a
new kind of kingdom is a reminder of who we are called to follow and how we are
called to follow. How easy it is to get caught up in the trappings of this
world’s kingdoms. How easy it is to confuse this world’s kingdoms with the <st1:place><st1:placetype>kingdom</st1:placetype>
of <st1:placename>God</st1:placename></st1:place>. How easy it is to forget
that the King we are called to follow is a new kind of royal, with a kingdom
that is not from this world. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That’s
why this Sunday was established: as a reminder to believers of who they were
supposed to be following, to whom they were supposed to pledge their loyalties and
the kind of kingdom they were to participate in. So that is what we are called
to do as well: to remember that our King is a new kind of royal and that we are
called to follow him, to follow in his unexpected footsteps. We are called to
participate in his kingdom, right now, in this time and in this place; to
remember that the <st1:place><st1:placetype>kingdom</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename>God</st1:placename></st1:place>
is not just a destination we reach somewhere in the future, but it is way of
living. It is something that we glimpse in moments of service, in moments of
sacrifice, in moments of giving and loving. Our king is a new kind of royal,
with a new kind of kingdom and we are called to follow. Thanks be to God. Amen.</div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-44449814790170468992018-11-01T09:46:00.002-05:002018-11-01T09:46:57.515-05:00Blind Faith<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>Mark 10:46-52</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="28" month="10" year="2018"><b>October 28, 2018</b></st1:date><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
am title challenged. In other words, I struggle with coming up with titles for
my sermons, for anything I write. It isn’t that I don’t have the ability to
come up with a good or catchy title for something. But with short stories or
essays or poetry, the titles most often rise up out of what I’ve written. But
sermons are different. Sermons are tricky. Generally, I have to come up with my
sermon title before I write the sermon. That means that while I’m writing, I
worry constantly about whether or not my sermon actually reflects the title
I’ve given it. It’s not unusual for me to feel pressured by the title I’ve
chosen; especially when I think I’ve come up with something clever and catchy.
I have such a great title, but this sermon isn’t living up to it! I tell myself
not to get obsessed about it. Do people really sit there and wonder why my
sermon doesn’t seem to match the title? Probably not. But if you do, don’t tell
me. But it still bugs me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Brent told me a story
shared from his pastor about another preacher who hated coming up with titles.
He hated them so much that every sermon was entitled the same way; “Ponderings
On …” And then whatever scripture passage he was preaching on would finish the
title. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
If I used his
example, this sermon would be entitled, “Ponderings On Mark <st1:time hour="10" minute="46">10:46</st1:time>-52,” But it’s not called that. It’s
called, “Blind Faith.” When I told Brent the title, he thought I was referring
to the blues rock band started by Eric Claption, Ginger Baker, Steve Winwood,
and Ric Greich. But that wasn’t my inspiration. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
I also realized
after I chose this title that the expression, “blind faith,” is sometimes used
disparagingly. To some, blind faith means that the person with the blind faith
has just checked out on using their brain or reason or logic at all. You just
have blind faith in God or another person without any critical thinking to go
along with it. But I chose the title, “Blind Faith,” because it seemed an
obvious description of what is happening in this story. Bartimaeus was blind,
but he is an astonishing and incredible example of faith; therefore, “Blind
Faith.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Bartimaeus’ story
comes at the end of chapter 10, and essentially at the end of the first part of
Mark’s gospel. Immediately after this story, Jesus makes his “triumphal entry,”
into <st1:city><st1:place>Jerusalem</st1:place></st1:city>. He is moving ever
more quickly and inexorably toward the cross. But before he and the disciples
come to the Mount of Olives, and before he sends two of the disciples to fetch
a colt from a nearby village, and before he enters Jerusalem on that colt’s
back, and before the people lay palm branches and cloaks on the road to mark
his entry, Jesus and the disciples and the large crowd following along were
leaving Jericho. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Mark tells us that
Bartimaeus, or Bar-Timaeus, son of Timaeus, was “a blind beggar sitting by the
roadside. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out
and say, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!’” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Bartimaeus may
have been blind, but he was not deaf. He must have heard the commotion of a
large number of people, and the sound of so many feet walking past him. He must
have heard the babble of voices, the whispers of wonder, the cries of
expectation, the excited discussions about this Jesus in their midst. Perhaps even
before he heard Jesus and the disciples and the crowds walking by, Bartimaeus
had already heard rumors about Jesus, about what this strange man of <st1:city><st1:place>Nazareth</st1:place></st1:city>
was doing and saying. Maybe Bartimaeus just knew, just perceived in a way that
went beyond the physical senses, who Jesus truly was. However he knew about
Jesus, he <i>knew </i>about Jesus. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
He started
shouting to him, trying to get his attention. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Jesus, Son of
David, have mercy on me!” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
You would think
that the people around Bartimaeus would have recognized what an opportunity
this was for Timaeus’ son. Here is someone who could help Bartimaeus, heal
Bartimaeus. Instead they tried to hush him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Be quiet,
Bartimaeus!” “Stop shouting, Bartimaeus!” “Don’t bother the teacher,
Bartimaeus!” “Who are <i>you</i> to cry out to <i>him</i>, Bartimaeus?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
But all their
efforts to shush him, to quiet him, to stifle him, were naught. Bartimaeus just
shouted louder. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Son of David,
have mercy on me!” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Jesus heard. Jesus
stopped walking, stood still, and called Bartimaeus to him. I suspect that the
same people who were trying to hush Bartimaeus were now the ones encouraging
him to get up and go to Jesus. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Hush Bartimaeus!
Oh wait, he wants to see you. Go Bartimaeus!”<br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>However visually impaired
Bartimaeus may have been, he seemed to have no mobility issues. He didn’t just
get up from the side of the road, he sprang up. He threw off his cloak and
jumped up from where he was sitting and went to Jesus. Jesus then asked him a
question which should have seemed obvious. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“What do you want
me to do for you?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“My Teacher, let
me see again.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Without touching
him, uttering a prayer, or speaking other words that would seem to bring forth
healing, Jesus healed him. Jesus merely said to him, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Go; your faith
has made you well.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Immediately,
Bartimaeus, son of Timaeus, once a beggar by the side of the road, regained his
sight. He saw and he followed. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
What do you want
me to do for you? Perhaps Jesus didn’t ask that question to be obtuse or to
make Bartimaeus speak his desire. Perhaps that question was to get at the heart
of what Bartimaeus really desired. He wanted to see again. Jesus gave him back
his sight. When we think of a gospel with layers upon layers of meanings, we
most likely think of the gospel of John. But I think there are layers in this story;
there is more happening here, more being said, than a physical healing. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Don’t
misunderstand me. Bartimaeus was healed of his physical blindness. But there
was a seeing that went far beyond the physical. Bartimaeus could not see Jesus
to have faith in him. But still he saw. He believed. He did not seem to just
believe that Jesus was a healer. He called him “Son of David,” another way of
saying Messiah. He called him, Teacher, my Teacher. He shouted not for healing,
but for mercy. Bartimaeus had blind faith – not only because he was blind and
believed, but because he was able to believe without needing to see. Jesus gave
him back his sight, and what did he do? He didn’t run off and tell his friends
or return to his family. He followed. He followed. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
I’m not sure we
are called to have blind faith, the kind of faith that chucks off reason and
logic and thought. But I do think we are called to trust as deeply and as
surely as Bartimaeus did. I think we are called to see how we are blind; how we
walk through the world with blinders on: blind to others’ pain, blind to how
our actions affect others, blind to the consequences of our sin. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
The events of this
past week, of yesterday, call us to remove our blinders. The violence in our
world, in our country is real. As I was trying to ponder what to say in this
sermon, I heard about the deadly shooting at a synagogue in <st1:state><st1:place>Pennsylvania</st1:place></st1:state>.
People worshipping peacefully, observing the Sabbath, were gunned down by a man
with death and violence and distorted vengeance on his mind and in his heart.
They were our sisters and brothers. That man is our brother. The man who sent
pipe bombs to so many prominent people last week; he is our brother. Believe
me, I don’t like to call him that. I don’t want to admit that. I want to hate.
But I cannot have blind faith. Just as Jesus restored Bartimaeus’ sight, he
calls me to open my eyes, my mind and my heart. The people who are harmed are
our family, and the people who do the harm are as well. And just as I am called
to see this truth, to acknowledge it, I am called to live accordingly. And I am
called to accountability, to admit my own culpability in the brokenness and the
violence of our time. To have faith in Mark’s gospel is to follow Jesus; to
follow with trust and persistence, even when we doubt. But it is also to see;
to really, really see. We are called not to follow blindly, oblivious to the
heartbreak of the world, focused only on our own personal relationship with
Jesus. We are called to follow with eyes wide open, with hearts wide open, with
minds wide open, with hands wide open. We are called to follow and to see.
Jesus healed Bartimaeus. He gave him back his sight. But he also showed him
mercy. Isn’t that what we are calling for? Isn’t that what we need? Mercy. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Aren’t we all in
need of mercy? Aren’t we all blind in some way or another? Don’t we need to be
healed? Don’t we need to finally see, to really see as if our faith depends on
it? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Let all of God’s
children say, “Alleluia. Amen.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-69941071281644233552018-10-16T10:28:00.000-05:002018-10-16T10:28:00.830-05:00The Goods<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>Mark 10:17-31</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="14" month="10" year="2018"><b>October 14, 2018</b></st1:date><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Let’s
assume from the very beginning of this sermon that Jesus was speaking
absolutely and unequivocally truthfully. I know, I know, some of you – perhaps
all of you – are thinking, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Amy,
I always assume that Jesus was speaking absolutely and unequivocally
truthfully.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
have no quarrel with that. I would claim it as well. But stick with me on this.
Let’s all assume that Jesus was speaking absolutely truthfully in our passage
from Mark. And with that assumption in mind, let us hear again these words. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“As
he was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked
him, ‘Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?’ Jesus said to him,
‘Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the
commandments: ‘You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall
not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your
father and mother.’ He said to him, ‘Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.’
Jesus, looking at him, loved him, and said, ‘You lack one thing; go, sell what
you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven;
then come, follow me.’ When he heard this, he was shocked and went away
grieving, for he had many possessions.’ </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then
Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, ‘How hard it will be for those
who have wealth to enter the <st1:place><st1:placetype>kingdom</st1:placetype>
of <st1:placename>God</st1:placename></st1:place>!’ And the disciples were
perplexed at these words. But Jesus said to them again, ‘Children, how hard it
is to enter the <st1:place><st1:placetype>kingdom</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename>God</st1:placename></st1:place>!
It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who
is rich to enter the <st1:place><st1:placetype>kingdom</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename>God</st1:placename></st1:place>.’
They were greatly astounded and said to one another, ‘Then who can be saved?’
Jesus looked at them and said, ‘For mortals it is impossible, but not for God;
for God all things are possible.’”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Are
you still assuming it’s all true? And if you are, how are you feeling right
about now? I’ll be honest with you. I’m a little nervous. I’m more than a
little uncomfortable, because while I am not rich I have a lot of stuff. I own
a lot of things. I have a life filled with possessions. And I promise you that
when I leave here today I am not going to go out, sell my possessions, and give
the money to the poor. I’m not. However, as I have also agreed to assume that
what Jesus says is true, I will leave here disturbed by his words and
struggling with what to do with them. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What
do we do with these words, these unsettling and disturbing words about riches
and wealth and the <st1:place><st1:placetype>kingdom</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename>God</st1:placename></st1:place>?
First of all, let me share with you something that I learned only this past
week. If you have ever been told in a sermon, perhaps one delivered by me, that
the eye of a needle was a small gate into the city of <st1:city><st1:place>Jerusalem</st1:place></st1:city>,
used for camels, it’s not true. There was no such gate. There is no evidence
that any kind of gate like this ever existed. According to commentators and
biblical scholars, this was made up in the nineteenth century to spiritualize
this text. Why? Because thinking that Jesus was referring to an actual narrow
gate makes his words sting a little less. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
that’s what we want. We want his words to sting a little less; because when it
comes to wealth and possessions, this story about Jesus’ encounter with the
rich man stings. We don’t know anything about this man other than what we read
in the gospels. Sometimes referred to as the “rich, young ruler,” in Mark’s
gospel we only hear him referred to as a man. But whether we call him the rich,
young ruler or just know him as a man of means, the way he approached Jesus was
interesting. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
clearly was not a man looking to trick or ensnare Jesus as the Pharisees did.
He knelt before Jesus. The people who knelt before Jesus were the ones in need
of healing, either for themselves or someone they loved. The Syrophoenician
woman who begged Jesus to heal her child knelt before him. Jairus knelt before
Jesus and begged him to help his daughter. To kneel was to prostrate ones’
self. It was a gesture of humility and pleading. The rich man knelt before
Jesus. Clearly, he was seeking something he could not find on his own. He was
driven by a need that his wealth and possessions could not fill. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
he ran up to Jesus, knelt before him and asked the question, “Good Teacher,
what must I do to inherit eternal life?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus’
initial response seems strange. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Why
do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Was
Jesus engaging in mutual humility? Or was he pointing out to this man who had
plenty of goods that the real source of goodness was not found in people, not
even in Jesus; nor was it found in possessions, in stuff? The real source of
good, of <b>the</b> good, was only found in God. God alone is good. So even to
refer to Jesus as good was to miss the mark. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
went on to say, you know your commandments. You know what they are. You shall
not murder or commit adultery or steal. You shall not bear false witness. You
shall honor your mother and father. Jesus added a commandment; one that we
don’t find in the original Decalogue. He also said, “You shall not defraud.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Did
Jesus say this because this man gained his wealth through the defrauding of
others? Were his words based on an understanding that many of those who were
wealthy were so because of exploitation of others? We don’t know. Again, that’s
what Jesus said, and we are assuming that everything Jesus said was true. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
man answered Jesus saying that he obeyed all the commandments. He followed the
Law. He was not guilty of transgression against any of them. Then Mark tells us
something that we do not hear in any of other gospel accounts, nor do we hear
this in any story about Jesus. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Jesus,
looking at him, <i>loved him</i>.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
looked at this man, this rich man, who we assume had goods to spare, and loved
him. He loved him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
said, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the
poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
looked at this man. Jesus loved this man. And Jesus saw that even with all this
man had, with all that he owned, he still lacked something. He lacked something
that money and possessions could not fill. Perhaps it was that lack, that need
that drove this man to Jesus in the first place. Perhaps deep down the man
realized that he was lacking, that he had a void in his life that could not be filled
by stuff or things or wealth. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you
will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There
are so many things to be unpacked in this story, so many levels of meaning in
which to dive deeply. I could preach twenty sermons on it, and that’s a good
thing. This story pushes us not only to reexamine how we see wealth, but also
to consider how we see the poor. To be honest, this story is not just about
what Jesus said to some man a long time ago, it is about what he says to us
right now. It was not just the man who was shocked and grieved by Jesus’ words,
all the others around them were shocked as well. To be rich was a sign of
blessing. To be poor was a sign of God’s disfavor, even God’s curse. Are we
that much different today? Isn’t poverty more often viewed as a moral failing
and wealth a result of doing all the right things? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
did not chastise the man or reprove of him because of his wealth per se. But he
called him to see that his wealth, his possessions; the goods that he set such
store by were not really what was good. Only God is good. All good comes from
God, not in spite of God. Jesus did not condemn the man’s wealth nor did he
condemn the man. Jesus looked at him and loved him, and asked him to see good
in something else, something bigger, something better. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Sell
all that you own, give the money to the poor, then come and follow me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
called the man to be in a new relationship with the people around him, and
Jesus called him to be in relationship with him. Get rid of what distracts you.
Give away what binds you, and follow me. In Mark’s gospel especially, faith is
not assenting to or ascribing to doctrine or a set of rules. Faith is about
following. Faith is about relationship. If there is something that prevents you
from following or being in relationship, then let it go, give it up, give it
away. All those possessions, all those goods, they are nothing in light of
being in relationship with Jesus; of being in relationship with our good and
loving God. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What
Jesus said was true, and we have to wrestle with his truth. We have to live
with it. I’ve already said that I won’t leave here today, sell what I own and
give that money to the poor. I know that. But that does not excuse me from
taking Jesus’ words about wealth and following and faith seriously. I cannot
spiritualize this story away. I cannot write it off as being something
different from what Jesus actually said. For the rest of my life, I have to
face the fact that what I own can get in the way of how I live with others, how
I treat others, and how I walk in relationship and faith with God. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yet
here is the good news. Jesus looked at that man and loved him. Jesus looks at
us and loves us. Jesus loves us, in spite of the fact that we can so easily
fail to follow him, regardless of how many times we, like that man, walk away
from him. Jesus loves us in spite of ourselves, and what is impossible for us
is never, ever impossible for God. Thanks be to God. Amen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-67890575050110556772018-10-08T13:49:00.004-05:002018-10-08T13:49:44.326-05:00A Community of the Broken -- World Communion Sunday<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>Mark 10:2-16</b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="7" month="10" year="2000"><b>October 7, 2018</b></st1:date></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
sat there feeling hopeless. Shame and guilt washed over me in relentless waves.
The topic of our conversation had shifted, and one person dominated the
discussion. What is wrong in our society, he said, is that our kids are coming
out of broken homes. Homes with single moms, he said, and no fathers in sight.
It is these broken homes, these broken families that are at the root of our
crumbling culture. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This
was about six years ago. I was sitting in a ministerial association meeting –
actually, I was hosting it, because we were in the parlor of the old church.
The person talking was and is a minister in this community. It turns out,
although I didn’t know it at the time, that he too has been married and
divorced – more than once on both accounts. But I didn’t know that. What I did
know was that I was newly separated. I was now a single mother, and if I
believed what this man said, my kids were doomed. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
he continued to talk and talk and talk, I got quieter and quieter. I didn’t
know where to look. Catching the eye of another colleague was impossible. I
didn’t want to look at them. I was too ashamed. I just bowed my head toward my
hands, closed my eyes, and prayed that this rant would soon be over; that he
would either run out of steam and stop on his own, or that someone would
interrupt him. I don’t remember how it ended. I just know that it did. I held
it together until the last minister left, then I sat and cried. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
suspect that this other minister was not trying to shame me. I would like to
believe that had he known my situation, he would have held his tongue or at
least worked at some sensitivity. But even if he had done either of those
things, I doubt that my shame and guilt would have been abated. Even if he
would not have made any of those remarks, I would have still heard them. I was
saying them to myself every day. I didn’t need to hear a sermon about the evils
of divorce; I was preaching that sermon to myself on a regular basis. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Hearing
this passage from Mark may bring out those kinds of sermons in our heads. After
all, it would seem that this passage is designed for just that purpose. Jesus
was on the move again, drawing crowds and teaching them as they went. Into this
setting some Pharisees came to Jesus to test him. That might be a clue to us
that this passage is not just another way to condemn those who have failed in
their marriages. The Pharisees wanted to test Jesus, and we know that whenever
Pharisees wanted to test Jesus, there was more at stake. Testing was another
way to try and trick him. They wanted to catch him up in a trap of the legal
kind. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
Jesus never fell for it. He never gave them the satisfaction. They asked a
question about divorce, which was a legal issue, and he turned the law back on
them. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Is
it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What
did Moses command you?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“They
said, ‘Moses allowed a man to write a certificate of dismissal to divorce her.’
But Jesus said to them, ‘Because of your hardness of heart, he wrote this
commandment for you.’”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Because
of your hardness of heart … it wasn’t that Jesus didn’t take marriage
seriously. He quoted from Genesis to show the divine intent behind marriage. He
spoke privately to his disciples about remarriage being adultery. But he was
pushing them to see something more, something bigger.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Although
the Pharisees asked about the lawfulness of divorce, that legality was not
really in question. Even though divorce was frowned upon, it was assumed that
it would sometimes happen. It was perfectly legal for a man to divorce his
wife. And there was no long drawn out court process for this. He only had to
write a “certificate of divorce.” As I understand it, that was basically the
husband writing down, “I divorce you” and handing it to his wife. The reasons
for divorce could be as simple as the wife burning the husband’s dinner just
one too many times. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
was not countering the Pharisees test of lawfulness with more legalism. Jesus
pushed back on their hardness of heart. A divorce was a breaking of
relationship, and that breaking of relationship often left the most vulnerable
in society even more vulnerable. Women had no status or power outside of their
husband or other men in their family. To be divorced was to lose the protection
of that man. I have said it again and again, and I will keep saying it, there
is a reason why we so often hear about care for the widows and orphans. It is
because women and children were the most vulnerable in that society. Divorce
exponentially increased that vulnerability. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Up
to this point in the narrative, Jesus had been trying to teach the disciples
and the crowds that the <st1:place><st1:placetype>kingdom</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename>God</st1:placename></st1:place>
was for those who were vulnerable. It was for the least and the lost. Jesus had
already pulled a child into his lap and told the disciples that welcoming such
a little one, a vulnerable one, was welcoming him and welcoming the One who
sent him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Divorce
was a breaking of relationship that caused harm, real physical harm to those
who were left in its wake. I know that can still be said about divorce today.
It would seem that I am backing up the words said by that minister six years
ago; that the troubles of our society spring from the broken family. If only
families stayed together, all would be well. But here’s the thing: divorce does
happen. And it hurts. It hurts like hell. And it can harm. But brokenness is
not limited to divorce and divorce alone. We are broken; all of us. We are all
wounded in one way or another. We are all damaged by the struggles of life. To
live is to eventually be broken. To live is to eventually experience broken
relationships and broken hearts. You do not have to live through a divorce to
know that. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
what makes me so sad is that when it comes to church, when it comes to being
the church, we seem to forget this reality of the human condition. We seem to
get it into our heads that church is the place where only the really, really
good folks get to go. I have heard many people say that they were faithful
members of their church … until they got divorced. Then they no longer felt
like they could attend. They felt like they just weren’t good enough to sit in
the pews. It was as if divorce stained them so badly, they could not get clean
again. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When
I was going through my divorce, I considered leaving the ministry for those
same reasons. Who was I to stand in this pulpit and preach when I had failed so
terribly, so horribly? But <st1:city><st1:place>Alice</st1:place></st1:city>
told me something at one point that helped me more than she knows. She said
that going through this would make me a better minister, because I would have
even more empathy, more understanding for the pain others go through. I don’t
know if I have proof yet that she was right, but I do have hope. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>You
see we are all broken, in one way or another. Today as we celebrate World
Communion, I cannot help but think about all the people around the world who
will gather at tables and altars, in large cathedrals and small storefronts,
and take the bread and the cup. I cannot help but imagine all of the stories
that will be brought to those tables. I cannot help but imagine hundreds of
thousands of broken people gathering to hear the familiar words, “The body of
Christ, the blood of Christ.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We
are all broken. We are a community of broken people, but we are also a
community of blessed people. We are a community of blessed people because God
does not abandon us to our brokenness. God does not give up on us because we
are broken. God calls us out of our broken places, God calls to us in the brokenness
of our hearts. God calls us not only in spite of our brokenness, but maybe
because of it. God calls us and God loves us. God binds up our broken hearts.
God pours the balm of love and healing on the broken places and the broken
relationships. God calls us to the table, broken and blessed, and tells us the
good news that the kingdom is for the broken and the lost and the vulnerable.
God blesses us just as Jesus blessed those children. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We
are a community of broken and blessed people. May we acknowledge our
brokenness, and may we see the brokenness in others. Then may we reach out to
them in love and grace, just as God reaches out to us, with love and tenderness
and grace over and over again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We
are a community of broken and blessed people. Thanks be to God.</div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-16606134793317079072018-09-18T10:55:00.002-05:002018-09-18T10:55:12.782-05:00But What About You?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>Mark 8:27-38</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="16" month="9" year="2018"><b>September 16, 2018</b></st1:date><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
city was all about power. It was named for an emperor; in fact the city itself
was built for that emperor. The city’s every building, and every nuance of
architecture, was designed as a tribute to that leader. It was a city of
wealth. It was a city created to glorify a human being. It was a city of
ostentation. It was a city of power. It was a monument to all that worldly
success could bring. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Into
this city walked a teacher and his students. Others, many others, followed
along behind them. But it would have been clear to someone watching this scene
from afar that the twelve students grouped around the teacher were in a different
relationship with him than the others in the crowds. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They
walked into this magnificent city and the teacher asked his followers a
question. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Who
are the people saying that I am?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
students did not hesitate with their answers. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Some
say that you are John the Baptist. And other folks say that you are Elijah.
There are some that say you may even be one of the other prophets.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
teacher stopped walking, turned around and looked with great intent at his
students. There was a small but weighty silence, then he asked, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“But
what about you? Who do you say that I am?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A
person watching from a distance would have noticed how taken aback the students
were by this question. That silent observer might have seen the students look
down at their feet, shift back and forth, look at each other, afraid perhaps to
be the first one to speak. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Except
for one – one man who stepped forward, excited, head high and hands held out.
Clearly this one thought he had the right answer. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
are the Messiah,” he said eagerly, maybe even with a slight smile creasing the
corners of his mouth. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If
this one student, this bold student, expected accolades for getting it right,
he must have been disappointed. The teacher did not pat him on the back, shake
his hand or turn him around to face the others; an illustrious example of one
who pays attention. No, the teacher put a finger to his lips and told them not
to tell anyone else. Then with a renewed urgency, he began to tell them what
being the Messiah really meant. He began to tell them it was more than just a
title, a designation or a royal name. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
Messiah must suffer, he told them. The Messiah must endure pain and affliction
and then die. But after three days, he will rise again to new life. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If
the students were put off by their teacher’s earlier question, they were surely
shocked, bewildered, even appalled by what he was telling them now. The Messiah
suffer? The Messiah die? The Messiah rise again? None of this made sense. None
of this fit with what they had been taught. Nothing the teacher was telling
them connected with anything they knew before. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Maybe
the other students were frightened and confused, but the one, the bold one, the
eager one, he was angry. He stepped forward again, and pulled the teacher a few
steps away from the others. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Stop
it!,” he told his teacher. “Stop it! Stop saying these terrible things. You’re
scaring them! You’re scaring me! This is not what happens to a Messiah!
Suffering? Death? No, this is not what happens to the Messiah, the one we’ve
been waiting for!” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If
the bold one believed the teacher might back down, he was wrong. Instead the
teacher turned his back on him, looked at the other students and said,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Get
behind me, Satan! You are thinking about only human things, only human
concerns. But you are not thinking about God. You are not thinking about divine
things” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That
one student must have felt like he had been punched in the gut. How could he
have gotten it all so wrong? Only seconds before he gave the right answer. Now
the teacher had called him Satan. The teacher had compared him to the Most Evil
One. But there was no time to ask for more understanding or clarification.
There was no time to apologize or beg for forgiveness. The teacher called the
others, the crowds, who were watching this drama unfold. He called them to come
closer and told them that they had to make a choice. If they wanted to be his
followers, if they really, truly, most sincerely wanted to follow him, then
they must also pick up their cross and walk the path he walked. They must pick
up their cross and follow him. Not only must they pick up their cross, they
must decide if they would be willing to align themselves with him. Would they
be ashamed of him? Would they deny they knew him? Or would they be willing to
give up even their lives to follow? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“But
what about you?” he said. “Who do you say that I am?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Who
do you say that I am? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
one commentator put it, this is the moment in Mark’s gospel when we – those of
us who think we know the rest of the story – finally believe that the gap
between Jesus and the disciples’ understanding of Jesus will at last be
bridged. In some ways, this is the moment we have been waiting for. Jesus asks,
“Who do you say that I am?” and Peter, bless his heart, bold, impetuous Peter,
steps up the plate and hits a verbal home run. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
are the Messiah.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yes!
He gets it! Peter, at least, finally understands just who Jesus is. But as
quickly as we think the gap has closed, it reopens again; and it is even wider
this time. Peter may have gotten the title right, but not what the title means.
Jesus ordered the disciples to keep his identity a secret from others, but they
have to know, they must know exactly what the true definition of Messiah is. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>To
be Messiah is to suffer. To be Messiah is to die a violent death. To be Messiah
is to rise again. To be Messiah … but Peter was having none of it. As earnestly
as he uttered his confession of Jesus’ true identity, he even more earnestly
rebuked Jesus for expounding on the truth Jesus was determined to share. Just
as Jesus rebuked unclean spirits, he rebuked Peter as well. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Get
behind me, Satan!” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
had undergone great temptation in the wilderness, and now he told Peter that Peter’s
words were just another temptation. It was more of the same. To be the Messiah
was to reject the comforts of the world and to follow a different path, a
different way. It was not about enjoying suffering or hoping for suffering; it
was to accept that when you reject the world, the world makes you pay for it.
The people may not have been calling him Messiah, but the prophets they were
comparing him to suffered. John the Baptist spoke truth to power and paid for
it. Elijah spoke truth to power and suffered. Jesus knew that being the Messiah
meant suffering, because it meant rejecting success on worldly terms, and to
follow that Messiah, to really follow means the same for everyone who picks up
their cross.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His
question to the disciples was not just a test of their knowledge about his
identity. It was a question of their identity as well. But what about you? Who
do you say that I am also asks, who will you say that you are? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Karoline
Lewis said that is the hardest question of all, because answering who Jesus is
to us means that we also have to hold a bright light up to ourselves? If I
believe, heart, mind and soul, that Jesus is the Messiah; if I believe that
Jesus went to the hard places and ministered to the hard people; if I
wholeheartedly accept and believe and confess that Jesus as Messiah spoke truth
to power and gave hope to the hopeless, gave voice to the voiceless, then what
does that say about me? What does that say about how I am living, how I am
being, how I am following? Have I picked up my cross? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>To
answer the question, “What about you? Who do you say that I am?” is to also
answer a question about myself. You are Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God, and
I want to follow you. My identity is intricately connected to yours. So who I
say you are also says worlds about who I am. “Who do you say that I am” is a
question that I must hear and that I must answer over and over again; because
discipleship is a call, and it is one that we answer not just once but also over
and over again. It is a choice that we make. Picking up our crosses and
following Jesus is a daily decision. I don’t want to admit how many times I’ve
looked at my cross, then turned and gone the other way. But here is the good
news, and maybe it doesn’t even seem like good news, but it is. My cross is
still there, still waiting for me to pick it up. I can always make the better
choice. And I can always make that choice, because of God’s grace. God’s grace
offers that me choice every day. And God’s grace covers me on those days when I
cannot bear the weight of the cross I have been given. And it is Gods’ grace that
gives me the courage and the strength to try again, to choose again, to answer
the question one more time. “But what about you? Who do you say that I am?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
You are the
Messiah. Thanks be to God. Amen.</div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-68497550012822627342018-09-12T11:47:00.000-05:002018-09-12T15:50:09.851-05:00Room at the Table<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>Mark 7:24-37</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="9" month="9" year="2018"><b>September 9, 2018</b></st1:date><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Our
dog Boris was a wonderful dog. He was gentle and sweet-tempered. Before I had
human babies, he was my baby. I skipped a church meeting to stay home and
finish the Snoopy cake I was making for his first birthday and birthday party.
He was my kids’ first friend. When Phoebe had a sleepover, he let her and the
other girls paint his nails without a whimper of protest. He was such a good
and beloved dog; when he died we had a funeral for him. Along with our
neighborhood friends, Sam and Sonja, we gathered in the backyard to say
goodbye. We lifted up our prayers and memories, then at the end of the service
Zach and Sam brought out their Nerf guns. They raised them up and gave Boris
their version of a 21 gun salute. Zach told me they wanted to do that, because,
“that’s what you do when someone important dies, and Boris was important.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Boris
was a wonderful dog. I keep a framed picture of him in my den, because I will
always love him and miss him. I loved him and I love him. But there was a
moment in my life with Boris when I had to choose between him and Phoebe. As
the saying goes, I was getting great with child, and Phoebe was an energetic
two-year-old. We were outside on a spring day, maybe decorating the sidewalk
with sidewalk chalk. I don’t fully remember. What I do remember is that we
lived on a corner lot of two well-traveled streets. Phoebe decided to start
toward one street, and Boris decided to run toward the other. Cars were coming.
I chased Phoebe, which was not easy considering that I was, as I said, getting
quite great with child. I hoped that Boris would have enough sense not to get
hit by a car, but I didn’t hesitate to let him go while I went after my
daughter. It was more important to save her. No matter how much I loved Boris,
and I did and do. My child came first. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>You’ve
probably already guessed that everything turned out just fine. I caught Phoebe.
Boris stayed out of the street. Everyone was safe and well, and I have never
questioned the choice I made. I would suspect that none of you are questioning
that choice either. Of course, you had to run after Phoebe. Of course, you had
to save your child first before you saved your dog, no matter how beloved he
was to you. My reaction was the normal reaction of any parent, and that’s that.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It’s
all great, until we get to this passage in Mark’s gospel, and we read these
words of Jesus to this Syrophoenician woman. It would seem that Jesus puts into
words the choice that I made between my daughter and my dog. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Let
the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and
throw it to the dogs.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Say
what? While I don’t question my choice on that day so long ago; it was a choice
between an actual child and an actual dog. In this situation Jesus is comparing
this woman, a human being, to a dog. There are loads of justifications proposed
for why Jesus said this and how he said it; we’ll get to some of those. But
it’s important to look first at what is happening in this story.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
made his way to <st1:city><st1:place>Tyre</st1:place></st1:city> and <st1:city><st1:place>Sidon</st1:place></st1:city>.
This was Gentile territory. <st1:city><st1:place>Tyre</st1:place></st1:city>
was not only a Gentile region, but it also had a history of great animosity
toward the Jewish people. So not only was Jesus staying in a place that was
“other,” he deliberately went to a town where <i>he</i> was the “other.”
Culturally, he was the other in this situation. The text states that he did not
want anyone to know that he was there. Perhaps he reckoned that if he stayed in
a Gentile home, he would attract far less notice than if he stayed in a
predominantly Jewish setting. But that was not to be. Even there in <st1:city><st1:place>Tyre</st1:place></st1:city>,
his presence was not only noticed, but sought out. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A
woman heard about him. She had a daughter who was tormented by an unclean
spirit, and she wanted Jesus to heal her child. She knew Jesus could heal her
child. She went to where Jesus was staying and bowed down at his feet. She was
Syrophoenician; about as “other” from Jesus as she could possibly be. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“She
begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. He said to her, ‘Let the
children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw
it to the dogs.’” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There
it is. These are the words with which we must contend. We have to live with
them, sit with them, wrestle with them. What is interesting is that the woman
did not try to counter Jesus’ comparison of her to dogs. She didn’t argue that,
although I would not have blamed her if she had. Instead, she turned his
comparison on its head. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sir,
even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Her
answer and her unwavering faith and determination to see her daughter well
reached Jesus. He answered,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“For
saying that, you may go – the demon has left your daughter.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If
the woman spoke again, we do not have it recorded in this text. What we do know
is that she left, and returned home to find that her daughter was lying on the bed,
demon free. <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
I said, we have to contend with these words of Jesus. And as I also said, there
are a lot of justifications and explanations for why he said what he did, and
what his words may have actually meant. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>One
explanation that I have heard endlessly is that Jesus used a word for dog that
meant “puppy,” or “beloved family pet.” He was not referring to a wild dog in
the street. He was comparing her to a puppy. That may be true, but would you
want to be compared to a puppy? If your daughter, your child, was sick and you
were scared and anxious and desperate for her to be healed, is that the answer
you would want? It wouldn’t be my first choice. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Some
have postulated that Jesus was not being unkind, but that it was a matter of
timing. The time for the Gentiles would come, but not yet. It was not yet time
for the Gentiles to be pulled into the promise of God Jesus brought. That
promise was first for the children of <st1:country-region><st1:place>Israel</st1:place></st1:country-region>.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Again,
if this were your child, would you want to hear that it just wasn’t her turn
yet? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Nope. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Another
theory to explain these words of Jesus is that he was testing her. He was
testing her faith. Clearly her answer was the right one, and he told her so. She
passed! She won the prize. Her daughter was healed. But at what other time does
Jesus test someone’s faith before he heals them? He may have pushed people and
questioned the people around him. He certainly spoke hard truths, and he wasn’t
afraid to get angry if the situation warranted it. But when did he test someone
before he healed them? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Maybe
what we have to do, and I have said this in other sermons on this text, is
allow these words to be what they sound like. Jesus gave an unkind response to
a woman in need. We don’t want to do this because it runs counter to our
understanding of who Jesus was and is. But maybe that is exactly what happened.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We
believe that Jesus was both human and divine; fully human and fully divine.
Wouldn’t that mean that Jesus’ had human responses, and human frailties? Jesus
may have been tired and overwhelmed and needed a break. He went to this house
hoping not to attract notice. But even there he was found. And he was found by
this woman. Maybe in a moment of exhaustion, he responded to her the way we
might: sharply, curtly and with a lack of patience and compassion. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
she refused to be deterred. She refused to let it go or to slink away in shame.
Her daughter needed healing, and she would do anything to make that happen.
Maybe in this exchange, Jesus learned something from her. We have other
examples in scripture of people arguing with God, questioning God, negotiating
with God. We have other examples where people were determined to see God keep
God’s promises. Maybe that’s what happened in this moment. Maybe Jesus learned
something from her. Maybe he learned something about the scope of his own
mission. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Maybe
even Jesus learned that there is plenty of room at the table, for us and for
those we believe are “others.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tuesday
marks the 17<sup>th</sup> anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. It is
unfair to reduce the tragedy of that day and the reasons behind it to any one
single factor. Yet even as I say that, it seems to me that we humans spend a
lot of time believing that there is limited room at the table. September 11<sup>th</sup>
showed the terrible, destructive consequences of that thinking taken to its
extreme. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>If
Jesus could learn that there is room at the table, couldn’t we? If Jesus could
learn that healing one does not take away from the healing of the other,
couldn’t we? If Jesus could learn that the table is big enough and the world is
wide enough for all of God’s children to find a place, couldn’t we? Couldn’t we
finally learn that there is room at the table for all? May we learn that
lesson; may we learn it soon. Amen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2773234323744077192.post-51252502403603799192018-09-06T13:48:00.000-05:002018-09-06T13:48:02.958-05:00From the Inside Out<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b>Mark 7:1-9, 14-15,
21-23</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<st1:date day="2" month="9" year="2018"><b>September 2, 2018</b></st1:date><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There
is a humorous television commercial out right now – an ad for the pest control
company, Terminix. Here’s how it goes. The Terminix man comes to the door of a
nice home. The woman who owns the house is obviously relieved that he has
finally arrived. Clearly, she is in great distress about the puzzling pest
problem she’s facing. You realize why it’s puzzling when the two go inside. Her
home is immaculate, spotless, and sanitary to the nth degree. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
home owner takes the Terminix man into the kitchen, bemoaning as she goes that
she cannot fathom why bugs are coming into her home, because she keeps it
spotless. She tells him that there isn’t a crumb of food to be found anywhere.
To prove her point, she opens the doors to her pantry. There, in perfect order,
are neat rows of clear containers keeping her food secure. I believe they are
even arranged by color. When this woman said that not a crumb or stray speck of
food could be found, she meant it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
Terminix man has to give her the bad news that bugs don’t always come into a
home looking for food. They come to get away from the cold, to build their
nests and to reproduce. She cringes in horror at the thought, and the Terminix
man goes on to tell her how the company can get rid of the bugs and return her
home to its pristine state once more. At the end of the commercial, he makes
the mistake of putting his hand on her counter, leaving potential germs. She
quickly takes care of that by moving his hand and spraying cleaner on the spot.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
point of the ad is to sell Terminix. But it is a funny commercial, and what
makes it funny to me is this woman and what is supposed to be her over-the-top
neatness. But here’s the thing; while I might laugh along with others at this woman,
secretly I want her pantry. I want that kind of order. I want all of my food
packed securely into air-tight containers, and I want to have the kind of
pantry where they can all be arranged in neat rows, arranged, if not by color,
than alphabetically. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now
that my confession is out of the way, you’re probably wondering what the heck
this commercial has to do with our passage from Mark’s gospel. After all, Jesus
made no mention of clutter or insects anywhere in the verses that we read, or
in the verses that were left out. While the Pharisees and scribes did ask about
the lack of hand washing among some of the disciples, this was not an encounter
about hygiene. It was, instead, a confrontation about defilement. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Why
do your disciples not live according to the tradition of the elders, but eat
with defiled hands?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Looking
at this question through our particular modern lens, the Pharisees and scribes
don’t seem off base at all. We know about germs. We know that hand washing is
one very effective way of preventing the spread of sickness and disease. Every
public restroom you go in has a sign up saying that all employees must
thoroughly wash their hands before returning to work. Hand washing is a given
in our culture. But again, the tradition of the elders that the Pharisees and
scribes referred to was not about hygiene or sanitary practices. It was about
defilement. It was about being ritually clean or unclean. That’s why hands were
washed and food from the market place was washed; and pots, cups and bronze
kettles were washed. In one way it would seem that the world Jesus and these
religious authorities lived in was divided into clean and unclean. One walked
side-by-side with ritual uncleanness all the time. Because of that, observing
the tradition of the elders was necessary to avoid defilement. Just as the
woman in the commercial believed that keeping her home scrupulously clean would
deter insect infestation, the people in Jesus’ context believed that defilement
could be deterred and avoided by controlling their external reality. Defilement
came from the outside, so they worked on keeping that outside in check. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
Jesus turned that tradition on its head. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Listen
to me, all of you, and understand: there is nothing outside a person that by
going in can defile, but the things that come out are what defile. … For it is
from within, from the human heart, that evil intentions come: fornication,
theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy,
slander, pride, folly. All these evil things come from within, and they defile
a person.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“For
it is from within, from the human heart, that evil intentions come.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>From
the inside out; it seems to me that was the point Jesus was making. If you want
to know what defiles a person, look at what is on in the inside, not the
outside. I do not think in any way that Jesus was saying that the Law didn’t
matter or was unnecessary. After all, Jesus said that he came to fulfill the
Law. Even though what defiles originates from the inside out, outward laws are
still needed to restrain and constrain our worst impulses. Setting legal
boundaries on human behavior is part of what makes societies function. But
legalism is something else. That’s the issue that Jesus had with the Pharisees,
the scribes and the other religious authorities. They took the Law, capital L,
and expanded and extended it into lists of legal do’s and don’ts.’ They forgot
that the reason God gave the people the Law, was not for the sake of legalism
but for the sake of love. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jesus
spent a lot of time trying to get people to understand that; to understand that
the heart of God was the source of all love. So if you really want to know
where defilement originates, you have to look at the heart. Defilement comes from
the inside out, not the other way around. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yesterday,
Brent and I made a trip down to <st1:city><st1:place>Dallas</st1:place></st1:city>
to visit the 6<sup>th</sup> <st1:place><st1:placename>Floor</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>Museum</st1:placetype></st1:place>
at <st1:place><st1:placename>Diehly</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>Plaza</st1:placetype></st1:place>.
The former name for this museum was the Texas Book Depository. It was where Lee
Harvey Oswald was working when he became infamous for assassinating John F.
Kennedy, the President of the <st1:country-region><st1:place>United States</st1:place></st1:country-region>.
The 6<sup>th</sup> floor is where Oswald made what is called the sniper’s nest.
It is where he spent the day waiting for the president’s motorcade to come by,
and it is where he took his rifle and fired three shots. The first one missed,
the second hit the president and Governor Connelly, and the third one finished
its ultimate purpose. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This
was not a lighthearted or fun museum to visit. It was sad. It was incredibly
sad. It was haunting because unlike some museums, we could actually walk down
the sidewalk where Oswald walked when he left the building. My fiancée is a
self-described geek about this particular moment in history, so after we toured
the museum, we followed the path of both the motorcade and Oswald for the rest
of that day. We drove the route to <st1:place><st1:placename>Parkland</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype>Hospital</st1:placetype></st1:place>, where the president was
taken. We passed by the Trade Market where the president and the first lady
were heading for a luncheon, and where the president was supposed to give a
speech. Then we went to the boarding house where Oswald stayed during the week
when he was working at the depository. We drove by the house where Oswald and
his wife lived before they moved to a farther suburb, and we saw through a slat
in the fence the backyard where he had his picture taken with the rifle that
would be used to kill the president. We stopped at the spot where he gunned
down a police officer, Officer Tippet. It is a place where an historical marker
has finally been erected – not to remember Oswald, but to remember Officer
Tippet. And finally we went to the Texas Theater, now another historic
landmark, and saw for ourselves the place where Oswald was captured. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
was haunting to see all these sites, but even more than that it was sad; so
incredibly sad. What a waste of life. What a waste of potential and
possibility, and for what? I thought about it and realized that seven children
were left fatherless that day: President Kennedy’s two little ones, Officer
Tippet’s three children, and Oswald’s own two little girls. And why? For what? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
we were driving back to <st1:state><st1:place>Oklahoma</st1:place></st1:state>,
Brent shared a story with me from Oswald’s brother, Robert. Robert went to
visit his brother while he was in jail. Apparently Robert stared intently into
his younger brother’s eyes, trying to understand, to fathom what would have
made his brother do something like this. Perhaps he stared into his brother’s
eyes trying to see a glimpse of humanity that he hoped was there. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Oswald
told him, “Don’t stare into my eyes trying to find something, brother. There’s
nothing there.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That
which defiles, that which truly defiles, comes from the inside out. Certainly
our external circumstances help to shape us, even define us. But Jesus said it
is what lives in the heart that defiles. The violence that we do to one
another, the harm that we cause, the pain that we spread, that comes from
within. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
if that which defiles comes from the inside out, than isn’t it also true that
what is most good, most kind, most loving also comes from the inside out? It is
that goodness, that kindness and compassion and love that we seek to nurture in
this place. It is that which we seek to nurture when we come to this table;
when we remember Jesus through the breaking of the bread and the drinking of
the cup. And when we come to this table, we not only enlarge the goodness that
lies in our hearts, we see one another a little more as God sees us; we see one
another through Christ’s eyes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>May
our God of grace help us to share all that is good from the inside out, to give
more, care more, do more and love more. Thanks be to God. Amen.</div>
<br />Amy Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06216980604765946039noreply@blogger.com0