Redeeming Grace – LOVE

3^rd Sunday of Advent

December 16, 2018

John 1:1-5, 14, 16-17

(Or watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QsbXNo1bXsc )

            My husband is slowly turning the parsonage into a Star Trek house. First he got a couple of the special outlets that you can control from an app on your phone. Then, about a year ago, he got the Alexa dot from Amazon. It’s the little round speaker that’s connected to the internet and can play music or tell stories or answer random trivia questions. And the smart outlets are hooked up to it, so it can control the devices that are plugged into them, too. Does anyone else have one? A month or so ago a colleague here in Maryland shared on social media that her husband had programmed their Alexa dot so that rather than saying, “Alexa, turn on the lights,” the voice command is now “Alexa, let there be light,” and Alexa replies, “And God said that it was good.” I was so tickled by this that I told my husband, who programmed our Alexa dot to say the same thing, only he went a step farther and changed the command for turning out the lights. You say, “Alexa, let there be darkness,” and Alexa replies, “And God said that it was less good.” Now, that bothered me a little bit, it didn’t just seem quite theologically sound, although I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. So, my husband changed her response to: “And God said that it was less good, even though that’s not as theologically sound as some might like.” So, here’s the thing. God never says that darkness is bad. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that darkness is evil. That is not anywhere in there. We’ve created a false dichotomy whereby if light is good and darkness is the opposite of light, then darkness must therefore be bad. Darkness is not bad. You can’t see the stars if it’s not dark. You can hardly see the bright flame of a candle if it’s in broad daylight.

In the Gospel of John we read, “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness does not overcome it.”[1] The darkness does not overcome the light, nor does the light overcome the darkness. They both exist together. “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.”[2] In the beginning, there was God, there was the earth, although it was some kind of void, there was darkness, and there was water. Then comes the first dawn: “And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light ‘day,’ and the darkness he called ‘night.’ And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.”[3] God never judges the darkness. God never says it’s less important or less good. God says the light God created is good. And you need both the light and the darkness, both the day and the night, to make up one whole day. The nighttime is just as much a part of that cycle as the daytime. When light first begins to shine in the darkness, when the night changes to day, that’s dawn. The dawn pierces the dark night and transforms it. The sky begins to lighten even before the sun first peeps above the horizon. It’s reassurance that once again life continues. And here in the third verse of “Silent Night,” Jesus’ birth is called “the dawn of redeeming grace.”

Jesus’ birth is the dawn of redeeming grace. It’s the beginning of it. What is it? Well, grace is unconditional love, love with no strings attached, love that loves no matter what. That’s what makes it so amazing. That’s how John Newton went from transporting kidnapped people for sale across the ocean to becoming an Anglican clergyman. During one horrible storm, he, who did not believe in God, called on God for mercy. And God granted mercy. Afterward, John Newton “began to ask if he was worthy of God's mercy or in any way redeemable as he had not only neglected his faith but directly opposed it, mocking others who showed theirs, deriding and denouncing God as a myth.”[4] He was obviously not worthy. That’s what makes it grace, unconditional love. About 25 years later is when John Newton wrote “Amazing Grace,” drawing on personal experience with that unconditional love, with redeeming grace. Redeeming grace is unconditional love that redeems, that makes right, that restores, and delivers, and saves, and makes good on God’s promise to always be with us. It’s Jesus, “Son of God, love’s pure light.” Jesus is “the light that shines in the darkness.” Jesus’ birth is “the dawn of redeeming grace,” the unconditional love that can save us. 

Now, the Gospel of John only uses the word “grace” four times in the entire Gospel, and all four times are found here in chapter 1 that we read this morning. “The Word became flesh and lived among us. We have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”[5] John says Jesus’ glory is full of grace and truth. We talked last week about the glory of the Lord shining on the shepherds. Jesus’ glory, a glory of grace, unconditional love, and truth, is what shone on them. John’s second and third uses of the word ‘grace’ are in the same sentence: “From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.” From Jesus’s fullness, from his completeness, from his richness, we have all received, past tense; we have all already received, grace upon grace. We have received abundant grace, overflowing grace, amazing grace. There was grace, and then there was more grace, and then there was more grace, and then there was more grace: an abundance of grace, an abundance of unconditional love. I love you no matter what, and nothing can change that. Period. Finally, the fourth place John uses grace is to more fully define what to expect from Jesus. He says, “The law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.”[6] The law was given through Moses, the ten commandments, and the deuteronomic laws, which are those found in Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. Even though they weren’t all written in Moses’ lifetime, they are all attributed to him. The law came through Moses: Here’s how to live. Here’s how to be God’s people. Here’s what’s expected of you. Then grace and truth came through Jesus. I don’t know that there was a lot of falsehood in the law, but there wasn’t much grace. The law can be applied gracefully, or it can be applied stringently.

Let’s look at an example from John chapter 8. I’m going to use a paraphrase that was written by a colleague of mine from the Western North Carolina Conference.[7] “Once there was a woman who had broken the Law. Perhaps she had even broken the Law to help support her family. The authorities dragged the Law-breaker before Jesus. ‘The Law is clear,’ they said, ‘The Law says this woman must be stoned. What do you say?’ Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. He was silent. One of the authorities said again, ‘Jesus, the Law is clear. The Law says we must stone this woman. What part of illegal don't you understand?’ Jesus straightened up and said to them, ‘Let he or she who is without sin, let he or she who has never broken the Law cast the first stone.’ And then Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground again. He was silent. One by one, the authorities judged themselves: they dropped their rocks, and walked away. Jesus straightened up again and said to the Law-breaker, ‘Woman, where are they now? Has no one condemned you?’ ‘No one, sir," she said, her eyes fixed on his drawings on the ground. ‘Neither do I,’ the Judge said. ‘Go your way, and sin no more.’ Having saved her once, Jesus saved her again. The one who could, the one without sin, refused to cast a stone.”

Now listen to what’s going on here. “Jesus doesn't deny the need for Law. Jesus doesn't pretend that sin isn't sin. Jesus knows that wrong actions need to have consequences. He understands, ‘illegal.’ What Jesus apparently doesn't understand is throwing rocks. What Jesus apparently doesn’t understand is scapegoating another person or group of people to distract us from our own sinfulness. What Jesus apparently doesn't understand is refusing to apply the Law with wisdom, with understanding, with compassion, with thought of what is best for all, with grace. What Jesus apparently doesn't understand is forgetting that the Law was made for human beings, and not human beings for the Law. The Law is not equal to the Law-giver. Law cannot save. Law can never forgive. Jesus grants amnesty to the Law-breakers, because Jesus is above the Law.” That’s the grace and truth that came through Jesus.

And we have all received, out of his fullness, grace upon grace. His birth was “the dawn of redeeming grace.” How can we also share this grace? How can we nurture relationships that birth, multiply, and radiate grace in the world?  During a time that can seem as much about scarcity as about abundance – because there are only how many shopping days left? And how quickly do popular toys go out of stock? And only so many parking space, only so much time, only so much of your mental energy to go around… our God is not a god of scarcity. Our God is a god of abundance, of grace upon grace, of redeeming grace. How can we make this right? How can we be gracious? Wouldn’t you rather be known for being generous and loving than for being stingy and a stickler? Even when the world around us seems rushed and insisting on the importance of the abundance of things, let us be people who know there is enough time. There is enough. You are enough. And an abundance of grace, of love that says “I love you no matter what and nothing can ever change that,” is more important than things. We have received grace upon grace. Let us go and share that abundance of grace with everyone we meet. Because we will never run out. There is no end to it. If you’re feeling less graceful, then come spend some more time with the one who is redeeming grace personified. Let us offer grace upon grace to a world who has forgotten what grace is.

---

[1] John 1:5

[2] Genesis 1:1-2

[3] Genesis 1:3-5

[4] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amazing_Grace

[5] John 1:14

[6] John 1:17

[7] Rev. Jeremy Troxler, published 30 Nov 2018, https://www.facebook.com/notes/jeremy-troxler/the-law-breaker/10161288741580717/

Remembering Mr. Al

Service of Death & Resurrection

Al “Pop” Fredericksen

December 11, 2018, 11 a.m.

Psalm 91; Matthew 25:31-40

            Being on the ball, like he usually was, Mr. Al even planned many of the details of this service today. He picked the hymns we’re singing. It was important to him to have military funeral honors. And the last time I saw him, he asked me to officiate at the service. It was the first time I’ve been asked by the person and not by their family. But that’s how Mr. Al was. He took care of what God entrusted to his care. He took care of Ms. Shirley and his family. He took care of our church, serving this past year as our head trustee. And he always had a minute to spare to help anyone who needed help. I heard stories about Mr. Al helping out the customers on his mail route and the friends he bowled with and he LOVED helping at the Howard County Fair every August. You wouldn’t see him for two weeks, but you knew where he was. He kept moving, kept busy, not to keep busy; he kept moving because he kept serving, just as Jesus calls us to do.

            Matthew 25 is what came to mind when thinking about scripture for Mr. Al. First is the parable about the servants who have been entrusted with talents, or bags of gold, to take care of while their master is away. Two of the servants go to work and double the master’s money. When the master returns he tells them, “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and enter into my rest.” Likewise, Mr. Al was faithful with what Jesus entrusted to him. He worried about everyone else until the day he died, asking me even when he was in the hospital about things at church and with the parsonage and trying to take care of things and wrap things up. He was faithful, and has now entered into his Lord’s rest.

            Jesus follows this parable of the servants and bags of gold with the passage we read this morning about the shepherd separating the sheep and the goats. “The King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ And the people look askance at him, because to them, it was no big deal to do these things, they’re not even completely sure they did them. The King replies, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” I would venture a guess that there is no one here this morning who was not helped in some way by Mr. Al. He would do anything for anyone.

            Now, if he was helping you out of a scrape of your own making, he would tease you or otherwise make sure you knew you needed to accept responsibility for it. I had a problem with the garbage disposal at the parsonage last summer that I tried to fix on my own and ended up calling him about. He came out, and with my mom’s help, fished out a corn-on-the-cob holder that had gotten stuck in there, that I hadn’t found on my own. At the next Administrative Board meeting, during his trustees’ report, he had me tell the story of what happened. It felt a little bit like getting in trouble at Grandpa’s house and then having to tell my parents about it!

            Mr. Al loved Jesus, he loved his family, and he served everyone. And because of that attitude of love and service, people loved him. He looked for the good, and people appreciated that. He was personal, chatting up about anything and anyone, easy-going. Ms. Shirley told me that when he got upset with her, he’d go out and chop wood. And then Gary told me that when they had too much wood, they’d give it away! Even when upset, he figured out a way to use that energy for something good.

            But y’all don’t need me to tell you about Mr. Al. Most of you knew him better and longer than I did, and that’s what makes the past month so hard. It was sudden and unexpected for him to go from climbing ladders and blowing leaves off the driveway to going home to Jesus. We didn’t realize Jesus was going to call him home already. And yet with the psalmist we are confident that “Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” We can also “say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.’ Surely [the Lord] will save you… He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day… A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.” What a beautiful psalm of comfort and reassurance. It’s a reminder that God is there with you, too, no matter what’s going on. You are not alone. The Lord is with you.

            “Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call on me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation.” The Lord did it for Mr. Al. And  he will do it for you, too.

Glories Stream (JOY)

2^nd Sunday of Advent

December 9, 2018

Psalm 86:9-11; Luke 2:8-20

(Or watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y1pySWZyWGA )

            There was a daily comic strip that ran from 1981 to 2007 called “Kudzu.” It was about the Rev. Will B. Dunn and the folks in his town. It was a pretty southern comic strip; did it make it in the papers up here? There was one strip that I remember quite well. The first panel showed the good Reverend on his knees, praying, “God, send me a sign!”  The second panel shows Rev. Dunn, still on his knees, next to a large flashing neon sign with the word “sign” on it.  God answered his prayer; God sent him a sign. It may not necessarily have been a helpful sign or what Rev. Dunn was looking for, but God did what he asked. God gave him a large, bright sign that you couldn’t miss.

            We don’t know if the shepherds were looking for a sign that night in the fields outside Bethlehem or not. We do know that they got a large, bright sign that couldn’t be missed. An angel stood before them and the glory of the Lord shone around them. It must have been bright! I imagine the shepherds squinting as their eyes adjust from the dark of the night to the brightness of the Lord’s glory. One minute it’s business as usual, and the next minute, bam! Big, bright, flashing neon sign from God. While Rev. Dunn’s sign simply said, “sign,” this sign says much more as the angel has instructions for the shepherds.

This is the third time in Luke that an angel has appeared. The angel Gabriel comes to Zechariah to tell him he and his wife are about to have a son in their old age, the son who will become known as John the Baptist. Then the angel Gabriel goes to Mary, to tell her she’s also going to have a baby boy whom she’s to name Jesus. Luke says Zechariah is “startled and gripped with fear,”[1] and Mary is troubled and perplexed.[2] What’s different with the shepherds was that this time it’s not just an angel appearing; it’s an angel plus the glory of the Lord shining all around them. The shepherds aren’t just startled or perplexed, they are terrified. Their response is sheer terror.

            In all three cases, the first thing the angel has to address is fear. Zechariah, Mary, and the shepherds are all told, “Do not be afraid.” It’s one of the more common phrases in the Bible. God’s people are told this over and over. Fear not. Don’t be scared. It’s like reassuring children after bad dreams. The appearance of the angel and the sudden brightness of the Lord’s glory has the shepherds scared to pieces. It isn’t just unexpected. It isn’t just startling. It isn’t just perplexing. The shepherds are the hired hands, working the night shift, guarding someone else’s sheep, in someone else’s fields. They don’t want anything to go wrong. They don’t want any trouble. They don’t want anything out of the ordinary. But God has other plans for them. God wants these lowly hired hands to be the first ones to hear the good news of the birth of their savior. Yet to get them to listen, to get them to pay attention, the angel has to address their fear first.

            Did you know that when you are frightened, the intelligent parts of your brain stop working?[3] In other words, when you’re scared, you’re dumber. Your logical thought process is replaced by overwhelming emotions, and rather than taking the time to think things through, you either react quickly, the fight-or-flight instinct, or you freeze, like a deer in the headlights. You stick with short-term solutions and don’t even think about long-term repercussions. We are not at our best when we’re frightened. We don’t think logically when we’re overwhelmed, and we enjoy life a lot less. We stop seeing the good that is all around us.

            The angel’s first task is to get the shepherds ready to listen. Calm down. It’s okay. You’re safe. You aren’t alone. The sheep are safe. I’m not here to steal them. Take some deep breaths. Get your heart rate back down, come down off the ceiling, or out from behind a rock. You don’t need to be overwhelmed. You don’t need to be terrified. I’ve got BIG NEWS. I’ve got GOOD NEWS. Are you ready to hear it? This is wonderful news for all people. Your savior is born today in David’s city. He is Christ the Lord. The Messiah. Your savior. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger. The first sign leads to another sign, neither of which the shepherds were looking for in the first place!

            How often do we look for signs when we’re not sure what to do? God, if the phone rings, then I’ll do this. God, if I don’t make it to the next round in this computer game, then I’ll do that. In Psalm 86, the psalmist prays, “Teach me your way, Lord, that I may rely on your faithfulness; give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name.” God’s way is not always obvious and so it requires teaching in order to know it. God’s way is not obvious to the shepherds, they need telling what to do next and how to know if they get it right. And this isn’t a “teach me because I’m curious,” but a “teach me so that I may actually live it out and do it and follow it.” Our hearts are often divided and thus we’re unable to walk in God’s way. The fear that’s holding our brain hostage has to go. The overwhelming emotions have to subside. They have to go so that we can hear God’s voice, and not the voice of fear. They have to go so that we can live the life God is calling us to live, a life of peace and love and hope and gentleness. There is already enough hate out there; we don’t need to contribute to it. We can be people of peace. We can be people of joy.

            What good news am I missing? What don’t I see all around me that’s worthy of joy, because I’m distracted, or fearful, or jumpy? When I calm down my overwhelming feelings, when I let the intelligent, logical part of my brain take control again, what do I see and hear? What’s the good news? What’s right in front of me that will make me smile, if only I notice it?

            After the angel relieves the shepherds’ fears and gives them the good news and the next sign, a whole host of angels appears and praise God saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace and goodwill among people.” This apparently does not freak out the shepherds; by now they’ve learned to go with the flow and they know God is up to something. So once all the angels leave, the shepherds decide to go to Bethlehem and see if it’s true. Now, a couple things are interesting. One is that they leave the flock. Those sheep they were in charge of, who didn’t belong to them, who was their job to keep safe through the night? They leave ’em. They’re not worried about the sheep anymore. And the shepherds don’t leisurely make their way over to Bethlehem; no, they hurry. They have been told great news, if it’s true, and they want to go find out now. There’s a sense of urgency to see if their savior really has been born, if there really is a cause for great joy for all people. Wouldn’t you want to know? Is this really true? Is my savior really here? And they discover the answer is yes. Exactly what the angel told them is exactly what they find.

            Nowadays grades and news are posted online and you can find out in the isolation of your own room. Back in the day they used to post those things on community bulletin boards – here’s who got the top grades, here’s who got the internships, here’s who won the scholarship – and everyone crowded around to read the names, those whose names might be on the list more excited and nervous than the rest. The shepherds aren’t each apart in their rooms on their own computers finding out the answer is yes, they’re there in a place with other people around them. And so when they shout out “Yes!” or “It is true!” or “There really is a baby here!” or “The angel was right!” or “This is the sign!”, others overhear them and Luke says that all who hear the shepherds are amazed at what they say.  There’s been an angel sighting. More than that, there are shepherds who witnessed the glory of the Lord, the dazzling brilliance of God’s presence and power. The angel gave a sign and it came true exactly as promised. It is amazing.

            And the shepherds return to their flocks. They go back to where they started; only they are not the same. They are now glorifying and praising God for all they have heard and seen. Life goes back to normal, kinda. They’re still working the night shift, still caring for someone else’s sheep in someone else’s field. But now they know their Savior has been born. Now they know the “good news of great joy.” They have heard it, they have seen it, they have lived it. God came to them, out alone in the fields during the graveyard shift. They were terrified. But now they are joyous. They are not alone. They are not forgotten. God didn’t go tell the bigwigs first. God didn’t shine his glory on the landowners. God’s glory shone on these shepherds. And once they were willing to overcome their fear, once you scraped them from off the ceiling of their terror, once they heard the angel’s message and followed the sign, they were never the same.

            The shepherds weren’t out looking for a sign that night, but they sure got one. If you ask God for a sign, you may get one, although it may or may not be as helpful as you’d like, as Rev. Dunn discovered. If God sends you a sign that you weren’t expecting, however, it might just change the world. Keep your eyes open this Advent season. Pay attention to the beauty and joy all around you. Drive around and look at Christmas lights. If you’re not one that needs to find joy right now, help others find it. Be the joy others need to hear and see and feel.

---

[1] Luke 1:12

[2] Luke 1:29

[3] https://www.learning-mind.com/impact-of-fear-on-the-human-brain/

Heavenly Peace

1^st Sunday of Advent

December 2, 2018

Isaiah 2:1-4; 9:2, 6-7

(Or watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TptRqsvGZHo )

            I don’t know about you, but my week felt full of things outside of my control. A loved one called with the news that they have to change how they treat their chronic disease. A member from my first congregation that I served was deported back to Mexico. Mr. Al, as we know, is getting closer and closer to seeing Jesus face to face. A kid on the school bus said something mean to my daughter that she won’t talk about. My anxiety has been higher this week and I have felt helpless in each of these situations that pull on the heart strings. The truth is that I haven’t actually been helpless. I’ve prayed and I’ve listened and I’ve cried and I’ve waited and I’ve journaled and I’ve said, “I love you.” I’ve done what I can, the best I can. Yet I could not control the outcome of any of these situations. All I could do was listen and pray and hug and hope. And at least once this week, with each of these things, I felt anxious. I know I’m supposed to be a calm presence as your pastor, but I will confess that I am not always inwardly calm. I do my best to work out my anxiety on my own so that I can be calm around you. But if you’d found me at certain moments this past week, you would have found me in tears.

            And then this morning’s theme is peace. That tends to be how God works. A few years ago when I was getting ready to preach on Naaman and his leprosy, I got my own skin rash, poison ivy. The week I’m supposed to preach on peace, I was not inwardly at peace. We decided last summer to use this Advent worship series commemorating the 200^th anniversary of “Silent Night.” The song first debuted on Christmas Eve of 1818 in Austria, although Joseph Mohr had actually written the words two years earlier. Before Christmas Eve 1818, Joseph Mohr, a priest, took the words to Franz Gruber, a schoolmaster and organist in a neighboring town, and asked him to compose an accompaniment so that they could use it for Christmas Eve mass. Churches around the world sing this song at Christmastime, lighting candles, and somehow making a sanctuary full of people feel like a close-knit family, somehow transforming whatever else is going on into a time of peace. “All is calm, all is bright.” 

            You heard me mention at the beginning of the service about the Christmas Truce of World War I. Soldiers on the Western Front held a ceasefire for the holiday. And in the quiet, in the silence, in the calm, they could hear each other singing “Silent Night, Holy Night.” Recognizing from the melody that they were each singing the same Christmas carol in their native languages, they came out and met on the battlefield, not with weapons but with soccer balls and small gifts to give each other. Soldiers from opposite sides in the war came out and did this. Talk about a Christmas miracle, facilitated by this hymn! Talk about a time of truly “heavenly peace,” when God managed to bring about a peace that the soldiers could not.

            Each week we’re going to focus on a different verse. This being the first week of Advent, we’re looking at the first verse. First verses are often more well-known than the rest, in just about any hymn. And the theme for this morning is peace, as the verse ends by saying twice, “Sleep in heavenly peace.” Heavenly peace is different than earthly peace. When Jesus tries to prepare his disciples for his leaving and the coming of the Holy Spirit, an event around which the disciples have a lot of anxiety and zero control, one of the things Jesus tells them is “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”[1] Jesus gives them his peace. Jesus’ peace is different. Jesus’ peace isn’t defined by what’s lacking. It’s not the absence of conflict. Jesus’ peace is known for what it is, by itself, regardless of what’s going on. Jesus’ peace is calmness, quietness, and tranquility. And that can happen even in the midst of conflict, even in the middle of a storm, even in the middle of events going on around you that are outside your control. Jesus’ peace isn’t a lack of something; it is something in its own right, all by itself.

            When Jesus gives his peace to his disciples, they are not at peace. They’re really worried about where Jesus is going. They’ve left everything to follow him, and now he says he’s leaving them?? Sure, Jesus says he’s going to prepare a place for them, and he’s going to send the Holy Spirit, but they want Jesus here and now, in the flesh. This is the King they’ve risked all to serve. Jesus says he’s not going to leave them orphans. He’s going to send the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, the Comforter. And Jesus gives them his peace.

            Perhaps the most well-known description of Jesus’ peace is what Paul writes to the Philippians. Among other instructions, Paul tells them, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”[2] God’s peace is beyond our understanding. And we’ve seen people like this, people who are calm even in the midst of the storm going on in their lives. They say, “Yes, this is all going on. Yes, it is painful. Yes, it’s requiring a lot of change. But, my faith isn’t in the storm or the wind or the waves. My faith is in the God who created them. My faith is in the one who made the heavens and the earth. And I will not be shaken. Yes, there is injustice and pain and suffering and the world is not as it should be. That’s why I choose to join God in the work of redeeming the world, and I can’t do that well if I’m freaking out. I cannot enter this next season of my life well if I’m looking at the wind. It’s easy to look at the water and pay attention to the feel of the wind on your face. I love it on a good day. But in a storm I need to pay attention to the feel of Jesus holding me safe, the feel of his arms around me, the feel of the cup of his hand on my cheek. Jesus is my rock and I will not be moved.” That’s the peace that passes understanding. That’s the peace that Jesus offers. That’s the peace we so often feel when we sing “Silent Night” and hold our candles on Christmas Eve. God’s got this. I’m not in control. My choice isn’t whether or not to control a given situation; my choice is whether or not to join God in the work of redeeming the situation. And there’s peace in that.

            Jesus’ peace is different than the peace that others offer. Others offer a ceasefire; Jesus offers a chance to build a bridge and literally get to know the person you were shooting at yesterday. Jesus’ peace isn’t about just putting down weapons and hurtful words; his peace is about transformation. Look again at what we read from Isaiah 2. “Many peoples will come and say, ‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the temple of the God of Jacob. He will teach us his ways, so that we may walk in his paths.’ The law will go out from Zion, the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. He will judge between the nations and will settle disputes for many peoples. They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks.”[3] The swords and the spears, these instruments of destruction, don’t get destroyed. The weapons don’t simply get laid down, or put away, either. They get changed. They are transformed. Weapons of killing and destruction are not killed and destroyed. They’re changed from instruments of death into instruments of life. They become plowshares, the main cutting blade of a plow, and pruning hooks, both things that are necessary for new life. Swords and spears become items that are used for growth and cultivation and life. God redeems them and uses them for good. Rather than their original purpose of cutting down, God uses them for building up. Jesus’ peace isn’t just refraining from saying harsh words and putting away harmful things; it’s changing them into kind words and helpful things.

So, how can we transform our chaos and anxiety and divisions into calm and peace and bridges? How do get there, even before we sing “Silent Night” on Christmas Eve? More importantly, how can we do that all year long? Comfort items, like a baby blanket, can be helpful. Be at least a little wary of comfort food, because it tends to be full of carbs and sugar, but I get it, if that’s your thing. I shared with some of you, the night after I got home from visiting Al when he received the news about the terminal cancer, I baked brownies. That wasn’t just for the carbs and the chocolate, though; baking is a stress reliever for me. Know what your stress relievers are, and do them, especially the healthy ones. Also know that relieving stress is different than escapism. Alcohol is an easy example. One drink to take the edge off is different than drinking to the point of blacking out. And for an alcoholic, one drink is one drink too many, period. Know your limits, know your triggers. And more important than all this, know Jesus and accept the peace he offers you. It’s peace that might bring you out of your foxhole to go meet with the person in the foxhole on the other side. It’s peace that might just say, come, rest in me, and you take every opportunity you have to come to church and join in the community.

Where I found it this past week was on Thursday. Being commissioned, but not fully ordained, I’m required to go to monthly all day meetings for a program called “Residency in Ministry.” The morning session is ideally on something helpful, like leading a congregation through change, or better understanding the ordination process. The afternoon session we break into small groups with a leader who’s another pastor in the Conference and what’s shared is confidential. My small group works well together, and we begin the afternoon by each checking in. I went last this past week, and putting into words all that I had been feeling during the week, the reasons for the anxiety, and then sharing all that in a safe space, naming it out loud, was really helpful. Another thing that’s helped is an Advent song that is about waiting for Jesus, and not anticipatory, excited waiting, but a waiting that is longing. Waiting that has some lament to it. I may share the song at the Longest Night service.

            This Advent season, as we prepare for a baby who is born a King, as we get ready for Jesus to be born anew, I invite you to spend more intentional time with the one who is called the Prince of Peace. In Isaiah 9, we read that “Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end.” One more way Jesus’ peace is different. There is endless peace in his kingdom. It’s not going to run out. It’s not a temporary truce or time out. It’s a permanent way of being in the world. Be at peace. With yourself, with others, with the world around you. It doesn’t mean you agree with everyone or condone what’s going on. It means you know it’s beyond your control but it’s not beyond God’s. Pray for God to change the world. Pray for God to overcome the divisions and the hatred and the name-calling. And then do you part in helping God to redeem the world. When faced with the choice of acting in love or in spite, choose love. And ask God for the strength to love when you’re not sure you can, because you’ve found yourself face-to-face with the soldier in the foxhole from the enemy side. Heavenly peace is not the same as earthly peace. Thank heaven!

---

[1] John 14:27, emphasis mine

[2] Philippians 4:6-7

[3] Isaiah 2:3-4

Gather in the Harvest, Gather in the Kingdom

Christ the King Sunday

November 25, 2018

Joel 2:21-27

Or watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V25BmGq-Es4

I am up here with fear and trepidation, because I will be talking about harvesting, a topic many of y’all, if not all y’all, know a whole lot more about than I do. Plus, many of you have firsthand knowledge, which I do not. I think I shared last year when my family moved here, that although I’ve lived in many places and a few other countries, I had never lived anywhere this rural. There aren’t even streetlights! The parsonage is 2 miles from the nearest traffic light! The beauty of the land and the beauty of y’all have won me over. I love y’all and I love living here. I even thought I’d gotten used to it when a church member posted a picture online that threw me back into culture shock. He’d gotten a picture through his nightcam of two coyotes. Y’all. I’m used to the cows and sheep and goats and pigs and chickens and horses and deer. Did you know we live in a place with wild predatory animals? WHERE do I live now?? And are there other wild predators I should know about? [Answers included bears and bobcats.]

The wild predators in our reading from Joel were the locusts. They were so bad, they ate many years’ worth of harvest. It wasn’t just one bad year, it was years, plural. There have been some lean years for God’s people. And what does God say? “I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten.”[1] I will pay you back, reimburse you, for those lean years. How do you even measure the kind of payment for that? Monetary? Relationships? Quality of life? “I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten.” What are the locusts that have taken years from your life? Disease? Pride? Stubbornness? Fear? What is draining the life out of you? Name it. And then the next question is, is this still going on now? Are you still in the lean years? Or are you in the next season? Listen, this promise is for you. And Joel begins at the ground level, literally. “Do not fear, O soil; be glad and rejoice, for the Lord has done great things! Do not fear, you animals of the field, for the pastures of the wilderness are green; the tree bears its fruit, the fig tree and vine give their full yield. Be glad, people of Zion, rejoice in the Lord your God, for he has given you the autumn rains because he is faithful. He sends you abundant showers, both autumn and spring rains, as before. The threshing floors will be filled with grain; the vats will overflow with new wine and oil.”[2] God knows there have been lean years, and God promises to make up for them.

What’s interesting is that the first part of this chapter is the passage we read on Ash Wednesday, at the beginning of the season of Lent. Joel advises God’s people to, “Rend your heart and not your garments. Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love, and he relents from sending calamity.”[3] That section of repentance ends by saying, “Let the priests, who minister before the Lord, weep between the portico and the altar. Let them say, ‘Spare your people, Lord. Do not make your inheritance an object of scorn, a byword among the nations. Why should they say among the peoples, ‘Where is their God?’”[4] And then the Lord answers, “I am sending you grain, new wine and olive oil, enough to satisfy you fully; never again will I make you an object of scorn to the nations.” The repentance comes first, and then comes the Lord’s promise to fill the threshing floors with grain and the vats with new wine and oil and to make up for the lean years. What part are you playing in making the lean years lean? Is there someone you need to talk to? Someone you need to forgive? A fear you need to face? An old hurt it’s time to let go of? “Rend your heart and not your clothes;” change on the inside and not just on the outside, and come before God. Another way of putting this would be to say, ‘don’t feed the locusts.’ Don’t let the locusts take any more than they already have. Don’t feed them. Don’t be one. You’re not a wild predator.

Our job is to gather in the harvest. To gather in the grain, the corn, the hay, the whatever else has been planted and cultivated and nurtured. We’re to take care of the harvest; not harm it. Jesus says, “The harvest is ready, and it’s abundant, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.”[5] The harvest season has just finished here. Everything is gathered in. What is the purpose of the harvest? To prepare for winter, to be ready for the next season. To have enough food to last until springtime. The purpose of the harvest is to be ready for what’s coming next. So, if there have been some lean years, you might have gotten a little soft, not used to all the work of an abundant harvest. But Jesus says the harvest is going to be huge! God is going to make up for those lean years. Guess what? That means we have a lot of work to do!

While I took our Scripture readings today from the ones assigned for Thanksgiving Day, today is also the last Sunday of the church year. It’s New Year’s Eve, so to speak. And the last Sunday of the church year, the Sunday before we begin the new church year next week with Advent, is called Christ the King Sunday. It’s meant to celebrate the “kingship, or sovereignty, of Christ and the expectation of Christ’s coming again in sovereign glory which opens the Advent Season [next week]. We have more than a baby Jesus [coming] at Christmas; we have a sovereign Christ, [a baby who is born a king]. ‘Joy to the world! The Lord is come: Let earth receive her King.’”[6] That is some of the work we will be doing during the season of Advent: we anticipate and prepare for and receive King Jesus. But that’s not the work of the harvest. The work of the harvest is to gather people into the kingdom. It’s to get ready for that season of getting ready. We’ve got to gather in the harvest so that we’re ready to gather in the kingdom.

There’s a story Jesus tells about workers gathering in the harvest from a vineyard.[7] The grapes were ready to be picked and so the farmer went looking early in the morning to hire some workers. They agree to work for the day for one denarius. But the harvest is so big that by 9 a.m. the farmer is back out looking for more day laborers. These ones also agree to work for one denarius. The same thing happens at lunchtime and at 3 p.m., there is so much work to be done to bring in the harvest that the farmer keeps hiring more workers, promising each one a denarius at the end of the day. Well, guess what happens by the end of the day? They get the harvest in. The work gets done. But those who worked all day complain that it’s not fair that the others get the same wage that they do. The farmer says, “‘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?”[8] And Jesus ends the story by commenting, “So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”[9] Some of us have lost more years to the locusts than others of us. Some of us started feeding the locusts and had a hard time breaking the habit. Some of us have had more lean years and some of us have had fewer. God promises to make up for all the lean years, whether a little or a lot. We each get what we need. Your two lean years get repaid and your twenty lean years get repaid. It doesn’t mean God loves you any more or any less. It doesn’t mean you are any more or less worthy of inheriting the kingdom. None of us are. It’s only through King Jesus that we are made worthy.

Take, for example, Thanksgiving.  Believe it or not, the pilgrims weren’t worthy of the kingdom of God, either.  Time magazine had an article about Thanksgiving from a Native American viewpoint this past week.[10] As you may imagine, he pointed out how whitewashed the story of pilgrims and Indians eating a big feast together really is. The truth is that the Wampanoag tribe did help the first wave of Puritans who arrived in 1621, teaching them how to plant crops, which wild foods they could eat, and basically, how to survive. “The first official mention of a ‘Thanksgiving’ celebration occurs in 1627, after the colonists brutally massacre an entire Pequot village, then subsequently celebrate their barbaric victory.”[11] The idea of a holiday originally didn’t center around this at all, but around a day for gratitude and prayer and unity. This author said that many of his indigenous brothers and sisters refuse to celebrate Thanksgiving at all, but he’d rather change the focus to “values that apply to everybody: togetherness, generosity and gratitude. And we can make the day about what everybody wants to talk and think about anyway: the food.”[12] (This author is also a chef.)

Don’t feed the locusts. Don’t whitewash history, especially the lean years. Don’t pretend that they’re something they’re not.  Learn from them. Don’t gloss over someone else’s lean years, either. They are often full of pain. But as we gather in the harvest, consider those three values: togetherness, generosity, and gratitude. The harvest is gathered in by the cumulative work of the laborers, by our work together. One person cannot bring in a huge harvest by themselves. Abundance tends to lean toward generosity, although there are those who have little and are still very generous, as we talked about a few weeks ago. And gratitude. You know that line I say from the King James at the beginning of the prayer over the offering? “All things come of thee, O Lord, and of thine own have we have we given thee.” It’s from 1 Chronicles 29:14, the middle of a prayer King David makes after the people have very generously given toward the work on the temple. In the NIV version, which is what’s in your pew, King David prays, “Who am I, and who are my people, that we should be able to give as generously as this? Everything comes from you, and we have given you only what comes from your hand. We are foreigners and strangers in your sight, as were all our ancestors. Our days on earth are like a shadow, without hope. Lord our God, all this abundance that we have provided for building you a temple for your Holy Name comes from your hand, and all of it belongs to you.”[13] We learn generosity from God, the God who promises a complete repayment for the years the locusts have eaten. Change your heart and not your appearance, return to the Lord your God, whose kingdom is coming on earth as it is in heaven, the King who will make up to you all those lean years. 19^th century English pastor Charles Kingsley said, “Have thy tools ready. God will find thee work.” In other words, get ready to work. The harvest is abundant. It’s time to gather in the kingdom. And God’s looking for workers.

---

[1] Joel 2:25

[2] Joel 2:21-24

[3] Joel 2:13

[4] Joel 2:17

[5] Luke 10:2

[6] https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/resources/festival-of-christ-the-king

[7] Matthew 20:1-16

[8] Matthew 20:13-15

[9] Matthew 20:16

[10] http://time.com/5457183/thanksgiving-native-american-holiday 

[11] Ibid.

[12] Ibid.

[13] 1 Chronicles 29:14-16

Gather in God’s House

26th Sunday after Pentecost

November 18, 2018

Hebrews 10:19-25

(Or watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tn3JFVcWlY4 )

            A billboard campaign came out in 1998 in Florida called God Speaks.[1] It was sponsored by an anonymous donor who had this idea to use billboards to get people thinking about God. “Billboards would be put up with simple, easy-to-read messages in white type against a black board, all with quotes ‘signed’ by God,” but no logo, company name or any other identifying feature.[2]  You may have seen these even if you didn’t go to Florida, because in 1999 the Outdoor Advertising Association of America picked them up and started posting them nationally. Some of the original messages said, “I love you… I love you… I love you. God” and “That ‘love thy neighbor’ thing… I meant that. God.” One of the funnier ones said, “Keep using my name in vain and I’ll make rush hour longer. God.” Anyone remember these? There was another one that said, “Let’s meet at my house Sunday before the game. God.” 

Apparently these billboards did not make it to Maryland; no one in my congregation recalled ever seeing them. I know I saw them in North Carolina. Perhaps they weren't so nationally spread after all?

Meaning, before Sunday afternoon football, come to the pre-party at church. Some people use a big football game as an excuse to skip church. Others make it a point to come to worship first, even if they leave early. They know it is important to gather together at God’s house, and now you can come before the game or after the game if you come to our new evening service. The point is you come meet God with the community of faith. Let’s meet at God’s house, period.

            At children’s time, I asked the kids, why do we come to church? The children’s answer is to learn more about Jesus and to be with other people who want to learn more about Jesus. Yes, you can learn some about Jesus at home on your own. But you can learn more when you hear what other people are learning about Jesus, too. The best mission statement for worship that I’ve ever heard isn’t one I come up with on my own, but one I heard from someone else. She said, “The mission of worship is to build up the Body of Christ for its work in the world through encounter with the Holy Living God.”[3] Why do we gather? So that we can encounter the Living God, so that we together as the church, as the body of Christ, can be built up, so that then we can go “into the world to go and do likewise as disciples of Jesus Christ.”[4] That’s the point of the “sweet hour of prayer.”[5] It’s the time to intentionally meet with God. Verse two of that hymn says, “With such I hasten to the place where God my Savior shows his face, and gladly take my station there, and wait for thee, sweet hour of prayer.”[6] Do you ever hasten to meet with God? Do you ever hurry to church, at a time when you’re not running late? When’s the last time you were excited to come, when you looked forward to coming, when you couldn’t wait to see what God was going to do and how God was going to show up?[slower] Do you not think you should look forward to encountering the Holy Living God? Or are you afraid of what God’s going to ask of you? Do you want your life to be transformed, or don’t you? Do you want our church to be transformed, or not? Yes, change is scary. Yes, it means we’re not in charge of it; God is. Do you hasten to the place where God your Savior shows his face? Or do you come out of a sense of obligation, or habit, or because you have nothing better to do? I hope, and pray, that when you come to worship, you come expecting an encounter with the Holy Living God. I hope you come expecting God to touch you in some way. I hope you come looking forward, anticipating, what God might do.

            In Hebrews this morning we read, “Therefore, brothers and sisters, we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus. He opened for us a new and living way, through the curtain—that is, through his own body. We have a great priest in charge of God’s house. So let us come near to God with a sincere heart and a sure faith.”[7] What the author of Hebrews is getting at here is the old temple, the temple where Jesus worshiped, had a curtain blocking off the holiest part. Only the high priests were allowed behind that curtain. But, when Jesus died, on the hill in Calvary, over in Jerusalem, that curtain tore in two. Jesus is that great priest in charge of God’s house. And there is no more diving line; everyone can go into the most holy place. “Jesus has cleared the way by the blood of his sacrifice.”[8] We can walk right up to God, approach God ourselves. We don’t need a priest to intercede for us. It’s nice, and helpful, and a good act of communal faith for others to intercede and pray for us, but it’s not required like it used to be. We can have an encounter with the Living God without anyone else making it happen for us. That’s why we can approach the throne of grace boldly and confidently. That’s why we can expect God to show up. That’s why we can anticipate an encounter with the Living God, who will not leave us the same. So, “let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings… Let us hold on firmly to the hope we profess, because we can trust God to keep his promise.”[9]

            Lastly, “let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds.”[10] ‘Provoke’ is a word that is usually used with negative connotations. He provoked me; he started it. I was provoked by a rude driver; that other driver was rude and so I responded by being rude, too. But out of the three definitions for ‘provoke,’ only the first one is “to anger, enrage, exasperate, or vex.”[11] The other two definitions are neutral, not necessarily positive or negative. To provoke is also “to stir up, arouse, or call forth (feelings, desires, or activity),” such as “the mishap provoked a hearty laugh.”[12] The third definition is “to incite or stimulate (a person, animal, etc.) to action.”[13] These are the kinds of provoking we’re talking about here. There’s enough of the provoking to anger and exasperation. Let’s add more provoking to love and good deeds. That’s the appropriate provocation for the church. That’s how the bazaar and the candy-making happen. Ann and Puzz and Gayle and others provoke us to help out; they move us to action, to good action. This is the building up of the Body of Christ. This is part of why we come together every week. We encourage each other. We provoke each other to show love and to do good. We gather for mutual support and reassurance and inspiration. We come to listen to how God is moving in each other’s lives and to hear what each other is learning about Jesus. It’s why we share joys and concerns every week. Sometimes, we just need reminding who we are and whose we are. We need re-membering, as in to become a member again. This passage from Hebrews ends by saying, don’t “give up the habit of meeting together, as some are doing. Instead, let us encourage one another.”[14] When we get discouraged, when we are negatively provoked, that’s when we find other things to do than to come to God’s house. So instead, let us encourage each other and positively provoke each other to love and good deeds.

After all, we aren’t here for discouragement. We can get that just by turning on the news. No, we are here for an encounter with the Holy Living God, we are here to be touched by God, we are here to be transformed, so that God can use our transformed lives to transform the world.

This past week was the Bishop’s Pre-Advent Day Apart for clergy. The speaker’s theme was about taking the time to intentionally engage your soul in deliberate, sustained dialogue, what he called “soul talk.”[15] The very last point he made, at the end of the day, was that when you talk with and listen to your soul, you are blessed by an abiding sense of God’s grace. And he mentioned the great commission at the end of Matthew’s Gospel. The last verses of Matthew read, “Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them and said, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.’”[16] This speaker pointed out the audience to whom Jesus was speaking. In the crowd, some believed and some doubted. “When they saw Jesus, they worshiped him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them,” came to all of them, both those who believed and those who doubted. Jesus didn’t separate the crowd before making this promise. Both believers and doubters get the same promise. God’s grace is for everyone. God’s grace holds us even when we don’t, or can’t, hold back. It holds you when you’re discouraged. It holds you when you’re provoked. It holds you whether you’re in the habit of gathering at God’s house or not. Yet we gather together as the church so that we can encounter the Living God, so that we, the body of Christ, can be built up, encouraged, provoked to love and good deeds, so that then we can be sent into the world, believers and doubters, sharing the good news that God’s grace is for everyone. So, let’s meet at God’s house on Sunday.

---

[1] https://godspeaks.com/about/

[2] Ibid.

[3] Think Like a Filmmaker: Sensory Rich Worship Design for Unforgettable Messages  by Rev. Dr. Marcia Mcfee, p. 4

[4] Ibid.

[5] UMH 496

[6] Ibid.

[7] Hebrews 10:19-22a, mix NIV and GNT

[8] Hebrews 10:20, MSG

[9] Hebrews 10:22-23, mix NIV and GNT

[10] Hebrews 10:24, NRSV

[11] https://www.dictionary.com/browse/provoke

[12] Ibid.

[13] Ibid.

[14] Hebrews 10:25

[15] Rev. Dr. Kirk Byron Jones, BWC Bishop’s Pre-Advent Day Apart for Clergy, November 13, 2018, from my notes

[16] Matthew 28:16-20