Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Three Requests, Three Promises

20th Sunday after Pentecost
October 22, 2017
Exodus 33:12-23

            We’ve taken a few weeks off from focusing on the Exodus story of Moses and the Israelites. Today we’re going to return to it because of this really striking conversation between Moses and God. Last week we read about some problems, the story of the golden calf, when Moses took too long coming down the mountain and so his brother, Aaron, took charge. Aaron had all the people bring their gold and he melted it and formed it into the image of a calf for the people to worship. And, of course, God sent Moses back quickly to address this sacrilege. God threatens to destroy the Israelites, but Moses intervenes and reminds God of his covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and of how God was supposed to lead them to the Promised Land. Well, God relents, yet says that an angel will lead them to the Promised Land, because if God goes himself, he just might destroy them. It sounds kinda like God needs a time-out to cool down and remember that he loves his people. However, the people are upset that God isn’t going with them himself. God’s presence with his people is what makes God different from other gods. And will they really survive the journey if God isn’t with them?? Now, cue the conversation we read today. Moses makes three requests of God and God answers each one with a promise.[1]
            First, Moses asks to know God’s ways. Isn’t this a common request of God? Throughout the Bible, especially in the psalms: “Show me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths. Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.” Psalm 24:4-5. Even today, that’s often what we ask God. Show me your ways, God. Teach me. Direct me down your path. Sometimes we get a more direct answer from God, like in the prophet Isaiah, “Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it.’”[2] Isn’t it helpful when it’s that clear? “This is my way. Go here.” Of course, we don’t always follow God’s directions even when they’re that clear. However, in this case, God doesn’t answer Moses with a clear direction. Moses says, “Show me your ways,” and God says, “My presence will go with you and I will give you rest.” Moses asks to know God’s ways and God gives a promise of rest. Moses asks for knowledge and guidance and God answers with rest. Isn’t that curious? Moses is ready to be on the move, keep moving, go on to the next thing, let’s go, [pause] and the answer to his prayer is that God will give him rest. Has that ever happened to you? Where you’re moving and shaking and on the go [pause] and then everything comes to a screeching halt?
            What is God saying in that screeching halt? What is God saying when you hit a wall? I know in marathons or training or adjusting to new exercise programs, you’re supposed to have things in place for when you hit the wall so that you can keep moving and you don’t give up. Yet a rest is not permanent. It’s not giving up. Look at the 23rd psalm: “He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.” He makes me lie down, he makes me rest. Then he leads me beside still waters. Rest, and then he leads me. Restoration, and then he leads me. Rest comes first. We work from rest, rather than rest from work. It makes a difference.
            So, second, Moses asks God to be present with them on the journey to the Promised Land. We’re not sure we can make this trip without you, God. We need you with us. Not just an angel, we need you. And God answers with this promise of the divine name. He says, in effect, “I will do what you asked. I know you by name.” Now that’s the answer to prayer that we like! “I will do what you asked!” Yet God adds, “[it’s] because I am pleased with you and I know you by name.” There’s a reason God gives a direct yes to this request. God is pleased with Moses, Moses has found favor in God’s sight, and God knows Moses by name. The second part of this is true for us, too. God knows each of us by name. The first part, pleasing God, well, remember it’s not about works-righteousness, we can’t earn our way into God’s favor. It’s about faith, belief in Jesus Christ. And at the same time, if we truly have faith, then it will be shown by what we do, like you know it’s an apple tree because it has apples on it.
            A phenomenon called “prayer shaming” was brought to my attention recently; I had been unaware of it. One widely accepted thing to say after a catastrophe or tragic event is to say that “our thoughts and prayers are with you.” However, there’s increasingly becoming a problem with this, which is that the world thinks if we really were praying, then it would be a difference. After all, we believe prayer makes a difference, right? We believe God answers prayer, right? Not always directly, like when we pray for guidance and God says rest, but there is an answer that often requires us to then act. We pray for guidance and God says rest, we should then rest, and not try to keep going. We pray for people who are hurting and God says you can do something to alleviate their pain, then it’s back on us to do something, whether that’s to give money to UMCOR or donate items for relief buckets and kits or whatever it is God is calling you to do. And here’s where prayer-shaming comes in. Politicians say, “thoughts and prayers,” but nothing changes. The world hears us say, we’re praying. But they don’t see us do anything as a result of our prayers. They don’t see anything change as a result of our prayers. So, they say we don’t want your prayers. They’re not making a difference. And maybe there’s not a visible difference. Maybe there’s not a physical action God asks us to take. Or maybe we’re not actually following through and spending serious time in prayer. Pleasing God means we do what we say. Pleasing God means we bear fruit that show we have faith. Jesus says, “Each tree is recognized by its own fruit.”[3] What you say online should match what you do offline (off the computer). What you say Sunday at church should match what you do the other six days of the week. If we have put the time and effort into prayer, then there will be some fruit for it and when someone tries prayer-shaming, rather than getting defensive, we can honestly say, I did pray, here’s what God said, and here’s what I did in response to what God said. A lot of it is following through, and I know I fall short as much as anyone else. If prayer is something we want to focus on as a church, then we can certainly do that.  One summer at the church where I was the associate pastor, we held evening prayer once a week and what I remember clearest is the feeling of peace as I drove the half hour home on I-40 afterward. Prayer changes us, and that evening prayer made me calmer and I drove slower (which is to say, I went the speed limit, instead of over it). My frame of mind and my attitude were adjusted. That’s a visible difference as a result of an hour of prayer.
            Finally, the third request Moses makes gets the most interesting response from God. Moses asks to see God’s glory. “Show me your glory.” A much better catch-phrase than “Show me the money!” And God promises to make his goodness pass before Moses. But, no one can see God’s face and live (that’s where the Indiana Jones movie gets it from and why Indy knew to cover his face so he didn’t die). So that Moses doesn’t die from this encounter, God says, I’m going to put you in the cleft of a rock, so you’re surrounded on all sides but one by rock, and I’m going to put my hand over the opening until I have passed by. And then you shall see my back. Isn’t this interesting? “Rock of ages, cleft for me…” so that I’m not burned to a crisp while God passes by. So that I am not undone by my arrogance of trying to tell God what to do.[4] So that I may be saved from my sin. That’s what the rest of that first verse means. Remember Jesus Christ is our rock of ages… “let me hide myself in thee; let the water and the blood, from thy wounded side which flowed, be of sin the double cure; save from wrath and make me pure.” That’s 18th century-speak for Christ’s blood shed on the cross that saves us from our sin. We hide ourselves in Christ and God covers our sin with his hand of protection so that we’re not burnt to a crisp. So that we’re not undone by what we failed to do or what we did that we shouldn’t have done. God’s hand of protection, that’s what we get to feel when we’re hiding in the cleft of the rock. And what we get to see is his back, and not just his back, but then also the path of where God has been.
            So, let’s slow this down. When we are hiding in the cleft of the rock, when God has his hand of protection covering us, we know where God is, even though we can’t see him. We still know he’s right there, keeping us safe, seeing us through. We know he’s there, even when we can’t see him. Even in the darkness, even during the difficult times, even through the worst that may happen, we may not see God, but we can still feel his presence. And when we do get to see God, it’s after the fact. We get to see God’s back, after he’s been at work, after he’s passed through. We get to look back and say, “Ah, there was God.” It’s just like Jacob when he’s at Bethel and has that dream of the ladder with the angels going up and down it and God speaks to Jacob. When Jacob wakes up, he says, “Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it!”[5]
It is easy to miss God at work when he’s at work. It’s much easier to see where God has been afterwards. I think that’s because sometimes we get caught up in all the loose threads and incompleteness, like looking at a half-finished knitting project, or looking at the backside of a needlepoint.
We see all the problems and all the mistakes and all the places where we didn’t do a great job. God sees the finished project. He sees what can be. And we have folks here with that gift. I’ve seen it during the Tuesday afternoon craft sessions and other times. We have folks who look at messes and see what can be. And that vision is what we need. Lisbon moving forward is not going to look the same as the past. We need folks who see what is, and then what could be, moving forward. Not getting caught up in the loose threads or getting distracted by super glue that dried in the wrong place, but staying focused on what can be. 
It’s harder to see God at work when he’s at work. It’s harder to see him when he’s got his hand covering you. Perhaps that’s the time when you’re supposed to rest. Perhaps that’s the time when you’re supposed to listen in prayer. So that when he lets you out of the cleft, you’re rested and you know what God’s calling you to do and you’re ready to work. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Amen.



[1] Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary: Year A, After Pentecost 2, p. 90
[2] Isaiah 30:21
[3] Luke 6:44
[4] Preaching God’s Transforming Justice, Year A, p. 446
[5] Genesis 28:16

Friday, October 20, 2017

Live Out Your Salvation

Oct 8, 2017
18th Sunday after Pentecost
Philippians 2:1-13

There was an inspirational trio of sentences that gained popularity a few years ago, that started out in a country song.  The original lyrics were: “You’ve got to sing like you don’t need the money.  Love like you’ll never get hurt.  You’ve got to dance like nobody’s watchin’.  It’s gotta come from the heart if you want it to work.”[1]  Those lines were condensed to the more popular: “Sing like no one’s listening.  Love like you’ve never been hurt. Dance like no one’s watching.”  They’re encouraging because they’re a reminder that it doesn’t matter what others think of your singing voice, you should sing, anyway. In John Wesley’s Directions for Singing in the front of the hymnal he wrote to not be afraid of your voice “nor ashamed of its being heard.”[2]  Sing like no one’s listening; when it’s hymns you’re singing, it’s music to God’s ears, no matter whether you can keep a tune or not.  Love like you’ve never been hurt may be hard, also, because it’s taking a risk that you might be hurt again, and yet being bold and courageous enough to love again, anyway.  Love like you’ve never been hurt.  And many of us are self-conscious enough, that it can also be hard to dance like no one’s watching.  Unless you’ve trained for “Dancing with the Stars,” most of us don’t really want an audience when we dance.  When we don’t have an audience is when we feel the most comfortable cutting a rug.  So, what do you do, how do you act, when you don’t have an audience, when you stop being self-conscious and worrying about others’ expectations and just let yourself be free to be you?  Who are you when no one’s looking? How do you live?
            How do you “work out your salvation”, to use the phrase from Philippians? Whether anyone’s watching or not, the way Paul describes it is “with fear and trembling.” That’s one of those verses that is the same in practically every bible translation. “Work out your salvation with fear and trembling.” I only came across two that said something different. Eugene Peterson’s The Message paraphrases, “Be energetic in your life of salvation, reverent and sensitive before God.” And the New Living Translation puts it, “Work hard to show the results of your salvation, obeying God with deep reverence and fear.” How do you “work to show the results of your salvation”? How do you live out “your life of salvation”? Just to be clear, this is NOT works-righteousness, this is not what do you do to be saved or works that earns you salvation. We’ve been talking about that in the Galatians Bible Study, with that famous verse that so deeply touched Martin Luther and triggered the Protestant Reformation, “we are justified by faith in Christ and not by works.” Paul isn’t suddenly changing course from what he wrote to the Galatians to what he wrote to the Philippians. Working out your salvation is how we who believe live out our salvation. How do we live as a result of being saved? Hint: It should be different than before you knew Jesus. It should be different than if you didn’t know Jesus. Jesus should be making a difference in your life. If you’re living the same way you’d live if you weren’t a Christian, then, well, there’s a major disconnect there. What you believe affects how you live.
Living out our salvation is a direct result of how Jesus lives and who Jesus is. Working out our salvation is a result of Jesus. That verse begins with a therefore, it’s directly caused by the preceding verses, which are often called the Christ hymn. It is considered to be an early hymn in the church that Paul simply included in his letter, not one that Paul composed himself. And it primarily talks about how humble and selfless and obedient Jesus is. He “did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing.” And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death.” This is who Jesus is. Therefore, God exalted him and “gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” Amen. Yet Paul doesn’t stop there. He continued writing, “Therefore, my dear friends… continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling.” Therefore. Because Christ is humble and obedient and selfless, it means that we live out our salvation with fear and trembling.
Yet Paul doesn’t even stop there! “…Continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.” Live out your salvation… because God is at work in you. Now, as good Methodists we know this and we have a term for it, grace. God at work in us is pure grace. Prevenient grace, the grace from God working in our lives before we even know it or recognize it. It’s why we baptize babies, because we recognize that God is already at work in their lives, that God already loves them, and so when we baptize a baby, we are affirming this grace on behalf of the child and promising to raise the child in the faith until the time that the child is able to accept God’s grace for themselves.  Justifying grace is salvation; it’s saving grace. It’s being justified by grace, being made right with God through the atoning work of Jesus Christ on the cross. Because Jesus is humble and selfless and obedient, we are saved. Thanks to Jesus’ work, we are saved. The third grace we Methodists talk about, which I think is what Paul’s getting at here, is sanctifying grace. This is the sustaining grace as “we continue to grow in the likeness and image of Christ through the perfecting work of the Holy Spirit.”[3]  You see, we never stop growing.  Life isn’t over or on cruise control once you accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior. God is never done with you.  You may at times feel that you are done with God, or need a time-out, but God is never done with you.  Sanctifying grace empowers us for holy living. It is God working through us to make us more like him, more humble and selfless and obedient like Christ. “We continue to working out our salvation as we grow in faith.”[4] We become co-laborers with God in his work of saving the world. God stays at work in you, sanctifying you, making you holier, not holier than thou, but holier like Christ.
So, then, how do you live? Whether anyone’s watching or not, how do you work out your salvation? What’s it mean to do it with fear and trembling? Carefully, reverently, intentionally. If you want to live the life God has for you to lead, then you have to do it on purpose. You have to be intentional about it. You have to be intentional about joining with a faith community for worship. Otherwise, Sunday morning will roll around, and oh, well, I slept in if you don’t set an alarm, or it’s such a beautiful day, I’d rather be outside. If you don’t make your spiritual life a priority, then it won’t grow. We do it reverently, with respect, in awe, not so serious that we can’t take a joke, but recognizing that this is a holy place and a holy time. We are on holy ground: are you going to take off your sandals? Or are you going to sit and pluck blackberries and ignore the holiness around you? Living a life of salvation is one of humbleness, selflessness, and obedience. It includes respect for what’s going on around you and for fellow sojourners, who may or may not be in the same place on their journey, who may or may not see things the same way you do. And that’s part of what’s wonderful about the church. Folks from all different walks of life are part of our family. I work out my salvation with fear and trembling, alongside you, working out your salvation. How we do it will vary some. Yet the same characteristics should be true of all of us: humble, selfless, and obedient to God. Not considering anyone better or worse, respectful of each one’s journey, because God is at work in each one of us.
So, because Christ is humble and selfless and obedient, because we are to pattern our lives after him, therefore, we are to live out our salvation with fear and trembling, carefully, reverentially, intentionally, yet with the reassurance that God has been, still is, and will continue to be at work in us. That’s good news. God at work in us, even when we mess up, even when we say the wrong thing, even when we don’t do what we should have done, even when we don’t agree. God is at work in us, giving us the desire and the power to do what pleases him. We can’t do it on our own. We cannot sanctify ourselves. Only God can make us holy. Only God can make us more like his Son. Only with God’s help can we live out our salvation, with fear and trembling, recognizing holy moments and holy conversations and holy places, whether anyone else is around or we have to do it on our own. God is with us, through everything. Even sermon-writing. And we have to trust that. Trust God is moving and acting and working through us, whether we see the results or not, whether we’re in the midst of a storm or calm waters. Fear and trembling is a holy place to be, and it’s only by God’s grace that we ever find ourselves there at all.


[2] UMH vii
[3] James Harnish, A Disciple’s Path, Daily Workbook, p. 23
[4] Ibid.

Thursday, October 5, 2017

It’s Not Fair

World Communion Sunday
October 1, 2017
Matthew 20:1-16

            One of the ongoing arguments I remember having with my parents as a kid was whether or not life was fair. Something would happen and my mom would say, “Life’s not fair.” I’d retort, “Life is too fair!” And to my mind, fair didn’t just mean equal, it meant the same. My younger sisters had to be the same age I was when they got their ears pierced. On car rides, we alternated sitting in the front passenger seat so that we’d all have the same number of turns. Everything had to be fair. When I was a kid, I tried really hard to make life fair. But life’s not fair, is it? Sometimes bad things happen to good people. Sometimes the bad guys get away. Life’s not fair.
That lack of fairness is what I’m struck by in this parable that Jesus tells his disciples about the workers in the vineyard. It’s time to harvest the fruit in the vineyard, and early in the morning the owner goes out to hire day laborers who agree up front on their on their pay. Yet more workers are needed and so mid-morning the owner goes out again to hire more people, who also agree up front on their pay. The same thing happens at lunchtime and mid-afternoon and even late afternoon: more workers are needed to finish the day’s harvest and each time the owner finds more people and agrees on their pay before they start working. At the end of the day, all the workers gather round, those who have been there from sunup to those who didn’t come until late in the day. Everyone who worked received the pay they had agreed to. That’s fair, right? Everyone who worked received the same pay, no matter how long they had worked. That doesn’t sound fair, does it? The owner tells the workers who were there all day, “I am not being unfair to you, friend. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius? Take your pay and go. I want to give the one who was hired last the same as I gave you. Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?”[1] It doesn’t seem fair that those who worked from sunup got the same pay as those who only worked a couple hours. Yet each one received the pay they agreed to when they were hired.
It’s important to remember when we hear this story that we are not the owner of the vineyard. We are the workers. We are those who labor in God’s vineyard; God is the owner. And we should already know that God isn’t fair. Fifteen chapters before this in Matthew’s Gospel, during the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus has already pointed out that God “causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.”[2] We should already know that God isn’t fair. Yet we tend to identify with those earlier workers, don’t we? Those who have toiled all day, those who have been there from the beginning, those of us who have gone to church all our lives, those of us who have stuck it through, no matter what. It’s not fair. And it’s not. Someone who comes to accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior while on their deathbed still goes to heaven. It still counts. That’s what’s so amazing about grace. It’s unconditional love. It’s not fair. It’s not based on what we do. We don’t deserve it. We can’t deserve it. That’s why it’s grace. All we can do is accept it, at whatever point along our journey that we recognize it. For some of us who were baptized as infants, it was recognized and accepted for us. Others of us were older when we came to know that God loves us unconditionally. Abundant and unconditional love is not fair.
So, here’s the thing. God’s goal isn’t fairness. God’s goal is to give us what we need. In the Lord’s Prayer, we ask God to “give us this day our daily bread.”[3] We don’t pray for tomorrow’s bread; we don’t need it today! If it’s anything like the manna God gave the Israelites in the wilderness, it’s not going to be any good tomorrow, anyway! God gives us enough for today. There’s this verse in 2 Peter that I tend to think should be less obscure than it is. 2 Peter 1:3 says, “By his divine power the Lord has given us everything we need for life and godliness through the knowledge of the one who called us by his own honor and glory.” Did you catch that? “The Lord has given us everything we need for life and godliness.” Everything we need. Not everything we want. Not every creature comfort. But everything we need for life and godliness. How? Through knowing Jesus.
It does raise the question, though, what about those who don’t have everything they need for life? What about those who don’t have access to clean water and adequate food and housing? What about those who are sick and those who live in paralyzing fear? Well, there’s another “not fair” verse. Over in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus says, “to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from the one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded.”[4] On the one hand, that’s reasonable. If you’ve been given more, then more is expected of you. However, it’s not like you asked to receive more. And it’s not fair that expectations differ depending on how much you were given. To whom much is given, much will be demanded. We feel the weight of that because we are those to whom much has been given. It’s not fair that more is asked of us because we have been given more. And yet we can’t deny that we have been given more. We have been given so many, many blessings: living in this great nation, living here, in northern Howard County, being able to enjoy the beauty of God’s creation, being able to send our children to one of the best school systems in the country. One of the verses that I often think about with my appointment here is Psalm 16:6, “The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.” We have been given a lot, plus the responsibility to use it wisely, to use it to help those who have not been given a lot. It’s not fair that not everyone is given the same, and yet look at what we’ve done just in the past three months I’ve been here: with your help, the youth have put together cleaning buckets and hygiene kits to send those affected by the hurricanes and we’ve collected three boxes of children’s books to give to the Judy Center, which works for school readiness for young children from low income families. It’s not fair, no. Not for us, and not for those families. Yet, like Abraham, we have been blessed to be a blessing to others.[5] We use the blessings we’ve received to bless others.
Today, the first Sunday in October, is World Communion Sunday. It’s a time when we remember that the church is not just us, but the church is all around the world. We are part of a whole body of believers, with Jesus as the head of us. When we break the bread and share the cup today, we remember that Christians all around the world are doing this, too, with their own kind of bread and cup, in cathedrals and open air tents, the same liturgy in all different languages, because Jesus came for the whole world. 
It’s not fair. Yet the Bible never says God is fair. God sends rain on the just and the unjust. The Bible says God is love and God loves us more than we can imagine. God invites us to join him in sharing his love with the whole world, using the gifts he’s given us, whether they’re a little or a lot. There’s another verse, over in Luke’s Sermon on the Mount, where Jesus says, “Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”[6] How’s that for fairness? Do not be upset that God, like the owner of the vineyard, is generous. I know many of us, myself included, identify with those workers who came at sunup and worked all day. And when we dare to take a break, it never lasts long. After my husband and I got married, when I was in seminary, we picked a church to go to together, while we had the opportunity to do so before I was appointed somewhere. We went to worship, and we didn’t get involved. I had been on Ad Board, taught Sunday school, taught bible study, and been on the education committee at my home church. It felt nice to not be overly involved. The District Committee on Ordained Ministry found out and told me I had to get involved with the local church again. It was nice while it lasted. Some of us are those who have been working all day. We will receive our reward. And so will all of our co-laborers who make it to the end of the day, no matter what time they started. Because God is generous, we can be generous, too. It’s not fair. It’s abundant and amazing love. Thanks be to God.



[1] Matthew 20:13-15
[2] Matthew 5:45
[3] Matthew 6:11
[4] Luke 12:48
[5] Genesis 12:3
[6] Luke 6:38