Thursday, March 9, 2017

Vows and Other Four-Letter Words: Pray

1st Sunday in Lent
March 5, 2017
Matthew 4:1-11


I trust everything went well while I was gone. It was a wonderful time of rest and renewal, and time apart for my husband and myself. Now I feel a bit more ready for Lent, which can be a difficult season. In fact, before I left, I went to the Bishop’s Pre-Lent Day Apart and the title of the day was “Lent and Other Four Letter Words.” I don’t know about you, but there are times Lent feels like a four letter word. Now, I’d already been planning to go through our membership vows for the first five Sundays in Lent. I’ve now reworded each vow into a four-letter word. To refresh your minds, those vows you made are “to faithfully participate in the ministries of the church by our prayers, our presence, our gifts, our service, and our witness.”[1] Every time someone else joins the church, every time there’s a baptism, and most recently two months ago when we remembered Jesus’ baptism, we promise again. We frequently renew our vows, not just on special anniversaries that are decades apart.
The first vow is that you will participate in the ministries of the church through your prayers. When you joined this church, no matter how long ago or how recently it was, you promised to pray. That’s the first vow, and that’s what we are focusing on today, in case you didn’t get all the clues from the songs and sermon title. You vowed to faithfully participate by your prayers. Turn prayer into a four letter word: PRAY. Have you noticed it’s easy to talk about prayer? And it’s harder to actually get on your knees and pray? And if you have arthritic knees like me, harder to sit still and pray, or focus your thoughts and pray, or just be still and pray. There’s something about turning prayer into a four-letter word, about turning it into a verb, and then intentionally doing it.
Of course, we have different ideas about what it looks like to pray. Do you usually put your hands physically like this, like the statue I showed the kids? Some of us do; I don’t. I’ll hold my hands, I’ll keep them still. But even before my wrists became arthritic, I still didn’t hold them palm to palm. I remember groaning out loud when one of the kids on the TV show, “Seventh Heaven,” knelt next to his bed and folding his hands just so to pray. It just felt so cliché and there are so many other ways to pray!! You can walk, stand, kneel, sit, lie down, drive, play, sing, be silent, sit in the back pew, sit in the front pew, sit on a bar stool, stand at Camden Yards! Praying can happen anywhere, and with just about anything! You can pray with your Orioles’ jersey, pray with prayer beads, pray wearing a prayer shawl, pray while reading the Bible, pray while talking with your family, pray while preaching on prayer! (Oh Lord, don’t let me mess up!)
Now, what’s this have to do with our lectionary reading this morning? Take another look at that Gospel of Matthew we read. It comes at the end of Jesus 40 days in the wilderness. 40 days being the same length as the season of Lent, which we began on Ash Wednesday. The first verse says, “The Spirit led Jesus up into the wilderness so that the devil might tempt him. After Jesus had fasted for forty days and forty nights, he was starving. The tempter came to him…” I don’t know about you, but when I get tempted, either I give in immediately and unwrap that chocolate bar, or, I tell myself “no.” Yet sometimes that chocolate bar can look pretty good, and then I’ve got to do something a little more drastic, like hide it in a cabinet, or walk out of the kitchen and go find something else to do so that I’ll forget about it. It works sometimes, right? But sometimes it takes hold in your mind and you can’t forget it. What do you do then? Throw it away? Give it away?
Look at what Jesus does. Satan tempts him with food, and Jesus responds with Scripture, “One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” Satan tempts him again, and this time quotes Scripture, from Psalm 91, “For he will command his angels concerning you, to guard you in all your ways.” And Jesus responds with an even older Scripture, from Deuteronomy, “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.” Finally, Satan tempts Jesus with power, and Jesus says, “Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.” Would Jesus have been ready to answer the tempter if he had not spent time praying in God’s Word? Seeking to find a way through? When temptation comes, when you’re in the wilderness, when you don’t know which way is up, when you’re overwhelmed, when you don’t know what to pray, go spend time in the Bible. Pick a favorite verse or just open it randomly and start reading. All praying is, is talking with God.  And when you don’t know what to say, let God go first. Prayer should be a conversation, which means both people get to talk and both get to listen.
            One of the funnier points the presenter at the Bishop’s Day Apart made was a gentle reminder that we are the children of God. God is our parent. God is not our child and we the parent of God. We are not even the teenager of God. You are a child of God. And as children, our conversation with God, our prayers, are going to reflect that. Sometimes, like stereotypical teenagers, we do ask things from God, like God, can I have some money? Other times, though, it’s simply bringing situations to God. Telling God about your day. The ancient prayer of examen is done at the end of the day, looking back over the day, and looking to see where God was in each thing that went on. Or you could be a child asking God about something, you know, tell me about sunsets, tell me about how the world works, just like children do. Now, I suspect God gets as tired of all the why’s as any parent. But not all conversations are asking for something, and not all prayers should be asking for something, either.
            I once heard the types of prayers put into the acronym, ACTS. You know, like the book in the Bible, A-C-T-S. A is for prayers of Adoration, times when we praise God. Look at that beautiful sunrise! God, how great thou art! I often choose a praise hymn to begin our worship service, because it sets the tone and the reminder that this time of worship is about God. Let’s praise God! C is for Confession, which we do at least once a month when we have communion. I hope you do it more often and can own up to when you’ve messed up and need to make something right. Since Lent is a time of repentance, we’re going to have a prayer of confession in worship each week during this season. T is for Thanksgiving, and this is probably one of the more common prayers we give. Thank you, Jesus, for this food. Thank you, God, for healing. Thank you, Lord, for a phone call from a good friend. Thank you, Jesus, for a close parking space! Or any parking space at all in December! Finally, S is for Supplication, which is a fancy word for ask, and something we do a lot, too. I remember a bible study I was in a while ago when the teacher said, “God is not a vending machine.” You don’t get to put your quarter in, or your dollar bill in, and receive exactly what you want. God doesn’t work that way. We ask, and God tells us to ask, to the point of even saying in the book of James, “You do not have because you do not ask!” We are supposed to ask God for those things which we need, those things which our heart most desires. But don’t be a teenager about it. Rather than asking for things, perhaps ask God to show you more, to help you understand, to gain in intangible things, like love and grace and understanding and patience and peace. Those prayers become more conversations with God, rather than a yes/no question.
            So that prayer is more of a conversation and less talking in your head, pull out your Bible. See what God has said in the past and what God is saying now. Pray. Talk with God. You promised to do it, and you promised by your prayers to faithfully participate in the ministries of this church. The ministries are not the same as they’ve been before, and that’s good. If we’re going to be around for another generation, then we have to focus on that next generation. We’re not here for ourselves.

Cowenton: Remember our mission. Rooted in Christ, that’s what we’re doing here in worship, that’s what we do in bible study, that’s what we do when we read the Bible, that’s what we do when we pray, so that we can nurture the community. So that we can share God’s love through ministries like Streets of Hope and EIO. So that we continue our original mission of providing Sunday school to children. The whole reason this church came to be, right? The kids needed Sunday school. Support that through your prayers and your other vows, which we’re going to talk about over the next four weeks. You promised to be faithful, and the eleven kids we now have in our children’s Sunday School need you to be faithful, and need you to pray for them. And pray for their teachers and their parents, while you’re at it.

Both: The future is going to look different than the past, and that’s ok. One of the places I went last week in Zurich was to an old Roman viaduct. As the Roman Empire spread throughout Europe 2,000 years ago, they built infrastructure, like roads and viaducts, which were to transport water. Well, there are still some remains of that 2,000 year old viaduct in Zurich, and the Swiss have transformed it and used it and are still doing so. About a hundred years ago, when they put their train system in, they put train tracks right over top of the viaduct. Saved them from having to build a bridge, and used an old thing in a new way. Recently, a few years ago, they starting filling in the arches of the viaduct and the ground level is now full of stores and cafes. Something old being repurposed. The original structure of the viaduct is still there, you can’t miss it. Yet it has been transformed into a way that it can be used now and not just remain as ruins. 
(I'm standing on top of the first row of arches, so that the stores are beneath me, as you can see in the distance, and the train tracks are on top of the second row of arches.)

It’s something to be in prayer about with God. Excuse me, it’s something to pray about and talk about with God. Even on some of the oldest buildings in Zurich, which go back to the 1200’s, there are cranes and renovations as they preserve what’s good about the structure and the unique designs and the cobblestone streets, and yet they are renovating so that something new can happen. It’s pretty cool.
            So, this week, your four-letter word is PRAY and your challenge is to intentionally do it every day. If you already do that, make it three times a day. If you need help, give me a call. Or if you need a Bible, give me a call. There are lots of free versions you can download onto a tablet or smartphone if you have one of those. Talk to God, listen to what God has to say to you. And, it might help to write it down, or highlight it, or something to remind you. Or write a bible verse out on an index card and tape it to your mirror or your coffee pot or somewhere you’ll see it and remember.
            Let us pray together…




[1] UMH 38

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

How To Be Perfect without the Pressure

7th Sunday after the Epiphany
February 19, 2017
Matthew 5:38-48


            One of the kids’ current favorite movies is an animated comedy that came out in 2012 called “Wreck-It Ralph.” It’s one of those kids’ movies that also has a lot for the parents or adults who watch it with the kids. Wreck-It Ralph is part of an arcade video game which has 8-bit graphics, a throwback to 1980s video games with cameos by Sonic the Hedgehog and Pacman and Q*Bert. Ralph is the bad guy in his game, though, and he’s tired of being the bad guy. 

The good guy is Fix-It Felix, Jr, which is the name of the game, and when he fixes things he gets freshly baked pies and a medal at the end of the game; whereas Ralph gets thrown off the roof into a mud pit. Ralph doesn’t mind that, because it’s part of the game. What he minds is that even when the arcade is closed and there’s no game going, the other characters in his game still ostracize him and treat him as the bad guy. They can’t see him as anything else. When they throw a party for the 30th anniversary of their game, they don’t even invite Ralph. Fix-It Felix is the hero, even though Felix would have nothing to fix if Ralph didn’t wreck things in the first place. The storyline of the movie is how Ralph learns to be more than just a bad guy, and how the other characters of his game learn that there’s more to him than just wrecking things.
            I mentioned last week that the previous Friday I did a memorial service for a member of our community, and how that person wasn’t a great guy in some ways; he was an alcoholic. Yet his family also stressed to me how generous and giving he was, living out what Jesus says in our Gospel reading this morning: “When someone asks you for something, give it to him; when someone wants to borrow something, lend it to him.”[1] Jesus says to “Live generously.”[2] And that is what this person did. He wasn’t perfect, he didn’t have it all together; but he had that part right. I mentioned the service to a colleague of mine this past week and he told me that I got it right because I saw this guy as a whole person. The alcoholism was not the whole story on his life. The generosity was not the whole story on his life. They were both two parts of it; the good and the bad. And we all have that in each of us. We all have things we do well, teachings of Jesus that we excel at; we all have parts that we get right. And we all have parts that we struggle with. And all of that together makes up who we are.
            You see, who we are in our worst moments is not all of who we are. Who we are in our best moments is not all of who we are, either. Any snapshot of you is not going to tell the whole story, and that’s important to remember. Any title or role you have is not the whole story. You are more than the sum of all of these parts. You are not only a teacher or a mom or a caregiver or a driver or a cook. If you remember Psalm 139, “You are fearfully and wonderfully made.”[3] God intricately weaved you together in the depths of the earth.[4] God knows you better than you know yourself. And you can’t just look at one part of your life and say that’s who you are, that’s what defines you. There’s more to you than that.
            A link came up in my Facebook memories this past week that I had shared two years ago, and some of you read it and liked it two years ago. It was an open letter to 20-somethings who were caught in the anxiety of perfectionism and over-achieving. Generally speaking, we’re teaching our young people that they have to be perfect, and not only that but join the perfect sports team, go to the perfect school, find the perfect mate, do the perfect job. We’re setting the bar all the way up here, and it’s creating a lot of anxiety when we fail. I can remember in my 20s struggling with the idea of soulmate and, when dating a new guy, wondering “is he the one?” There is a lot of anxiety and pressure over this. The newest parenting book I’m now reading is called “The Gift of Failure,” reminding us parents that it’s okay for our children to fail, because that’s how they learn and how they become independent and how they become creative thinkers and contributors to society. We’ve got to let go of that perfectionism for our children and for ourselves. None of us is perfect. And what we think in our least perfect moments, what we think when we’re in the pit of despair, is not the whole picture.
            Part of that letter from Facebook says,
“We’re tempted to believe there is no cause for hope. We’re tempted to believe that at stake in every relationship is the possibility of finding our soulmate. We’re tempted to believe that the dissolution of intimate relationships means cruel rejection of our identity rather than deliverance from a potentially unhealthy union. The clock ticks, and we name each tick a curse rather than thanking God for the gift of time. We fail to see the world the way it really is.”
And it continues,
“Beloved child of God, set your eyes on the truth about the world and determine to live in that world, and not in the false world in which despair is possible. That’s not the real world. None of the stories we tell ourselves in our despair are truthful descriptions of the world. The truth about the world is that you do not have to become because you already are. God has already declared you worthy. You don’t need to achieve that. You simply need to embrace it. Luxuriate in it. And allow yourself the time and space to learn what it means to live as one already declared precious by God.”[5]
            God has already declared you God’s child, beloved and accepted by God. Wonderfully made by God. Fully known by God. Important to God. So all this striving, trying to be perfect, sometimes down to the minutiae of saying the perfect thing and wearing the perfect clothes, it’s tiresome. It’s tiring and it wastes our time and energy. We’re not perfect. To say so is to lie. Yet to give up hope and despair is also a lie. We are not who we may think we are at our worst moments. There’s more to us than that.
            So, all that being said, what are we supposed to do with the last verse of our Gospel passage today? It’s usually translated as, “Be perfect, therefore, just as your heavenly Father is perfect.” There are two modern translations that do not say that. One says, “Therefore, just as your heavenly Father is complete in showing love to everyone, so also you must be complete.”[6] Yet even being told to be complete can add undue pressure. The other translation is the one I put for our call to worship this morning, because I think that translation we can work with a bit easier. It says, “You’re kingdom subjects. Now live like it. Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you.”[7] Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you. God is generous and gracious towards us. God gives us everything we need, and then some. God is kind, compassionate, considerate, and good to us. Therefore, we are to behave that way and with that attitude toward others. That’s how we live in to the perfection God calls us to, that’s how we fulfill the Jesus’ teaching to be perfect, how the other translations put it.
            In Methodism, we put grace in three categories. Prevenient grace that comes before we even know we need God, that allows to get to know God. Saving grace, or justifying grace, which makes us right with God through Jesus saving us on the cross. And the last one is sanctifying grace, or perfecting grace. One of the questions asked at ordination is do you believe you will be made perfect in this lifetime, and you’re supposed to answer yes. It’s a hope, it’s something not yet realized, it’s the goal we seek, as we try to become more like Christ. As United Methodists, we believe we are going on to perfection. What that looks like is generous and gracious living, being generous and gracious toward others, because God is generous and gracious toward us. It’s kind of like that other bible verse where we’re told to love each other, because God first loved us. God loves us, therefore, we are to love each other. God is complete in showing love to everyone, God is perfect, God is generous and gracious toward everyone. Therefore, we are to be the same way. With God’s help, we can do it.



[1] Matthew 5:42, GNT
[2] Ibid., MSG
[3] Psalm 139:14a
[4] Psalm 139:15b
[6] Matthew 5:48, CEB
[7] Ibid., MSG

Tuesday, February 7, 2017

Clean the Windows

5th Sunday after the Epiphany
February 5, 2017
Isaiah 58:1-12; Matthew 5:13-20

            This passage from Isaiah is one of my all-time top favorite Scripture passages. There was a time when it was my top favorite. It was how God got me to Nicaragua. It convicted me so thoroughly of the need to serve others and not focus on myself or my wants. There’s a lot in there, and this morning, we’re going to unpack it from the end.
            The end is this beautiful description of wholeness and healing and restoration and redemption. Isaiah says, “then your light shall break forth like the dawn and your healing shall quickly appear… The Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail. Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.” Doesn’t that sound lovely? Light, healing, strong bones, a well-watered garden, a spring of water that will never run dry. Rebuilt ruins, foundations raised up, breaches, gaps, chasms, repaired and overcome. “You will be called Mender of Broken Walls, Restorer of Livable Streets.” Who doesn’t want to be called that? Who doesn’t want to fix what’s broken? We’re not talking about fixing what ain’t broken; we’re talking about fixing what is broken. We all know things that are broken. Relationships, systems, communications, probably at least one thing here at church, no matter how hard our trustees work. Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to fix things? Wouldn’t it be nice to have everything working properly? Anyone disagree? Good, because that’s the whole premise of this sermon, is that you do want health and wholeness and restoration. If you like things broken and left broken, I’ll see if I can find a counselor for you ;-)
            So, that’s the end goal, that’s the vision. Things made right. Breaches repaired. Streets restored. Ruins rebuilt. With plenty of water and light, two of the things necessary for life. How do we get there? Isaiah talks about two categories of actions, two types of things to do.
            The first one is what got me to Nicaragua. “Loose the bonds of injustice, undo the thongs of the yoke, let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke… Share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin… offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted.” That is directly what God calls us to do. Isaiah is speaking for God here. These are specific things God wants us to do. And the list should sound familiar. It’s not too different from what Jesus says in Matthew 25 about visiting the sick and those in jail, clothing the naked, welcoming the stranger, feeding the hungry, and giving something to drink to those who are thirsty. This list in Isaiah is not any different. And the good news about a list like these is that there’s usually at least one thing we’re good at or that comes naturally to us. Maybe you’re good at visiting, or you’re good at feeding the world, or you’re good at giving away your clothing, or feel especially called to serve with persons who have lost their homes. There’s enough on this list that you probably pretty regularly do at least one of these activities. Maybe you even do two or three of them on a regular basis. My challenge to you is to try one that you don’t normally do, one that doesn’t come naturally or easy for you. You could even make it into your Lenten discipline, since we’re only a few weeks ago from the beginning of Lent. If you haven’t been involved in Streets of Hope, maybe it’s time to try. If you noticed your closet or dresser is bulging, maybe it’s time to go through your clothes and give away the ones you don’t wear or don’t need anymore. If you don’t often go visiting, we have a list of members who are sick and shut-in who would love to see you. If you tend to be shy and not welcome a strange person, perhaps it’s time to put yourself out there to be friendly. Know what you’re good at and where your strengths are. And be aware of which part of that list makes you shy away and say, “please don’t ask me.” Consider giving that activity a try. At least once. Sometimes we get to stay in our comfort zones; sometimes God calls us out of them. And if you haven’t been out of your comfort zone in a while, then it’s time. Visit the sick and those in jail, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, and feed the hungry. It’s really not a very hard list; it just requires you to put in a little elbow grease and intentionality to make it happen.
            That’s the first category of things to do to bring about healing and wholeness and restoration. Pay attention to and spend time with those in need, and provide for those needs when it’s within your ability to do so. By focusing on others, you will then accomplish the second group of things, which is a list of what not to do: quarrel, fight, hit each other violently, oppress your employees, do whatever you want, point fingers, pass the blame, don’t take responsibility, only look at after yourself, and speak evil. It’s quite a list, isn’t it? And just like the first one, I’m sure there’s one of those sins we commit more often than the rest. Do you have a quick temper? Do you think you earned the right to do whatever you want? Are you quick to point out others’ shortcomings? Do you get a kick out of stirring the pot and creating drama? God says to “remove the yoke from among you.” What is holding you back? What is tying you down? What has you, figuratively or literally, in chains? And what is tying us down as a church? What’s preventing us from reaching full restoration and health? We’ve made a lot of progress the last three years. I know you felt somewhat abandoned and forgotten and forsaken when I arrived, but you are not. The Conference is paying a lot of attention to us. And they wouldn’t be if we were still doing business as usual like we used to do. But things have changed, and mostly for the better. Change is hard. Healing is hard. Fixing a broken street or a breach in a dam is hard. And it takes time. That’s why we’re not done yet. So, what’s the next yoke to break? What’s the next chain to break that’s holding us down? I know not everyone loves me, so perhaps your answer is me. Or perhaps you can easily identify something else. Give it some thought, give it some prayer.
            “Breaking chains” was actually the prompt of my writing this past week. I have a friend from seminary who was in a spiritual formation group with me called “Writing as a Spiritual Discipline.” She was a year behind me and ever since she graduated, we still write together once a week. She texts me a prompt, we both write, and I call her after about twenty minutes and we share both our writing and what’s going on in our lives. With the prayer that it’s helpful and might get ideas going for you, I’ll share a few of the chains I listed this past week when I wrote with her. These are in no particular order, just a stream of consciousness list: sleep-deprivation, disease, unmet expectations, fatigue, overwhelmed, stress of moving in five months, more to do than I can physically do, untimely interruptions, and lack of stamina. Those are what I’m struggling with and I ask your prayers to help me with them. If you’d like my prayers as well for something particular, please, just let me know. You should know by now that all you have to do is tell me. And if you put it in writing then I’m less likely to forget it.
            “If you remove the yoke from among you… then your light will shine in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday. The Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail. Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.” All you have to do is remove the yoke on you and take care of those in need. Easy enough to say, right? Hard work to do. As I mentioned last week when I shared about moving, we do still have work to do. We still have five months together. Let’s keep moving toward that place where “there is no darkness at all. The night and the day are both alike. The Lamb is the light of the City of God. Shine in my heart, Lord Jesus.”[1]
For Jesus’ light to shine through, sometimes we have to clean the windows.  Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, visit the sick and those in jail. Quit pointing fingers, quit gossiping, quit putting chains and limits on yourself or on others, don’t speak evil, of anyone. If you can do that, “then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly.” That’s how we work our way to health and wholeness and restoration and rebuilt ruins. That’s how we fix the ruins. Working together, not against each other. Working out in the open and not in secret. Meeting the needs of people we encounter as we have the ability to do so. Not the desire to do so or the natural tendency to do so, but what’s within your ability. Then Jesus’ light can shine through you, and shine through our church, and others will see Jesus through you. As Jesus said in our Gospel reading this morning, “let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” May it be so with us as well. Amen.



[1] “I Want to Walk as a Child of the Light,” UMH 206

Tuesday, January 31, 2017

"Everyone Needs Compassion"

3rd Sunday after the Epiphany
January 29, 2016
Isaiah 9:1-4; Psalm 27; 1 Corinthians 1:10-18; Matthew 4:12-23


            This past week my husband took an extra-long time to take out the trash. When I realized he’d been gone a good fifteen minutes and the dog was at the back door ready to come back in, I put on my coat and went to go look for him. I found him about halfway between our house and the trashcans talking with a couple in the parking lot. It turned out this couple was homeless and had been for about two years. They put their items in a storage unit and have been living at the Colony Inn, there on Pulaski Highway. They share a room with their son, who is an addict and quite violent when he is drunk or high. Most nights they wait around the Royal Farms gas station for a while and slowly walk back, hoping he'll be passed out in the room by the time they get there. I first met them at the beginning of this month. The wife called because her husband had been in the hospital and in paying that bill, they didn’t have enough to pay the week’s hotel bill. The husband was back at work; his next check would come in five days. So I went over and paid maybe $100 to cover the balance. She said out of 30 churches she called, I was the only person who would help them. That night out in the parking lot was so cold, and already late, that my husband decided to just take them to another hotel to have a safe, warm place to rest for one night. When he learned that they hadn’t eaten since the day before, he told them to help themselves to the snack bar and charge it to the room, and to not forget the continental breakfast in the morning so that they could have a warm meal before they left. They were incredibly grateful.
            I don’t share this story to make me or my husband look good or for y’all to judge us or question what we did or even to make you feel bad. I share it as an example that everyone needs compassion. Everyone needs love. Everyone needs hope and grace and forgiveness. Everyone needs a God who can save, and that’s what we have to offer that is different than any other religion. Our God saves. Jesus came to save.
            Y’all know I like to read young adult fiction and in the past few months I’ve discovered a new author, Rick Riordan. He’s jokingly called the “storyteller of the gods” because his books involve various gods from ancient mythology. This includes Greek mythology with Zeus and Hera and all those guys, Egyptian mythology, with the sun-god Ra and Horus and Osiris, and a series I haven’t read yet with Norse mythology. And while I studied some of those mythologies in school, I never considered what those gods would be like as gods. They are not gods who save. They are not gods who redeem. They are gods who are petty and petulant and jealous and capricious and pick and choose who they will help. Our God is not like that. Our God is a God who saves. Our God is a God who redeems. Our God is a God who offers hope and compassion and forgiveness and grace and love to everyone.
            Not only does our God do that, but our God invites us to join him in his work of redemption and salvation and love and compassion and good news. That’s what we have going on here with the calling of the first disciples. Jesus isn’t just inviting Andrew and Peter and James and John to follow him for three years and then go back to their homes completely unchanged or unchallenged. Jesus is inviting them to join him in his work of saving the world. Jesus invites us, too. You know that when I pray over the offering I often say something to the effect of asking God to use it and us to further God’s work in the world. This is what it looks like. Offering grace. Offering opportunities for redemption. Offering peace and goodwill. Offering love. God works with us and through us to do all those things.
            Our Old Testament passage was one that should have sounded familiar because we just read it a few weeks ago on Christmas Eve. “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light.” That great light is Jesus Christ, and yet sometimes how that light is seen is through us. You know, “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine…” That’s one way we join Jesus in his work of redemption and offering hope. Sometimes the only light people may see is that one that you shine on their lives. Sometimes the only love people feel is the love you show for them. Sometimes the only way people have hope is because you hold that hope for them. Everyone needs a Savior, and we know that that Savior, the only God who saves, is Jesus Christ.

            Now, if you’re wondering where I’m getting some of this, what’s been running through my mind for almost two weeks now is the contemporary Christian song called “Mighty to Save.” It came out of Hillsong Church, a Pentecostal megachurch in Sydney, Australia. Part of their ministry is a huge music ministry, including writing and recording many of their own songs, which have become well-known around the world. “Mighty to Save” came out in 2006, and was on the CD I listened to on my way to my Board of Ordained Ministry meeting last week. It begins by saying, “Everyone needs compassion, a love that’s never failing, let mercy fall on me. Everyone needs forgiveness, the kindness of a Savior, the hope of nations.” I’m going to play it for you and pray that some part of it may speak to you as it has spoken to me the past couple weeks. This is why we do what we do. This is why Jesus calls us and invites us to join him. It’s because everyone needs compassion, and love, and hope, and forgiveness, and grace. 

(Watch/listen to "Mighty to Save": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Lab0SHGXkA )

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

God Doesn’t Play Favorites

Baptism of the Lord
January 22, 2016
Acts 10:34-43; Matthew 3:13-17

Or watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jLcNjvoinwo

            When I was little, my Grandpa had nicknames for all of us grandkids. I’m the second oldest grandchild, and so I don’t know that the tradition continued by the time the 17th grandbaby was born, but it was there for at least the first ten of us or so. And, as the oldest granddaughter, my nickname was princess. Can I tell you how special this made me feel? Grandpa called me ‘princess.’ The only other nickname I can remember was for the next oldest granddaughter, who for a while he called ‘baby.’ Princess is way better. Yet somewhere around when the number of grandchildren hit the double digits, it was less and less common to hear our nicknames. You see, my grandparents didn’t want to play favorites. And what happens when your relatives play favorites? Your aunt goes to visit your one cousin way more than she ever visits you. Your grandparents financially help out a different family member but seem blind to your need. We were at a family reunion last weekend, which is why I was out, and it wasn’t too bad, other than that my family of four kept a low profile. It was my stepdad’s mom’s 90th birthday, and if anyone other than my stepdad had been asked to make the arrangements, we wouldn’t have been included. But when his mom told him to invite the whole family, my stepdad included us stepkids as well. We went because it was important to him that we go, but not everyone was really glad that we were there. Exclusion and favoritism pit people against each other and that does not inspire us to love each other.
            We have another family reunion of sorts in our Gospel this morning. Today we’re celebrating Baptism of the Lord and Jesus is baptized by his cousin, John. John tries to exclude Jesus from baptism, saying no, I should be baptized by you. But Jesus answers him, “Allow me to be baptized now. This is necessary to fulfill what God requires.”[1] And John agrees and baptizes Jesus. We read this passage every January as we go through Jesus’ life and we take this Sunday as an opportunity to remember our baptisms, remember when we joined God’s family, whether we actually remember it or it’s more of an honorary remembering. In a bit, we’ll reaffirm our baptismal covenant, reminding ourselves and each other what was promised at our baptism. It’s a beautiful liturgy, remembering the covenant and how we’re all part of God’s family.
            Now, here’s the thing about God’s family. Sometimes some of the members play favorites, just like some of our relatives. However, God does not play favorites. God does not favor one gender or one country or one people over another. It’s kind of like that hymn we just sang, “This is my song, O God of all the nations...”[2] We are all God’s beloved and God loves all of us unconditionally and wants abundant life for all of us. Originally, a long time ago, yeah, God favored Israel. And the Old Testament is the story of the covenant between God and Israel. Then God sent Jesus, because he loves the whole world. And you better believe that God including people besides Israel was a big deal. That’s what at least half the book of Acts is about, and here in the middle we have today’s passage where Peter, the head apostle in the early Church, stands up and says, “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him.”[3] God does not show partiality, to Jew or non-Jew, to male or female, to slave or free. That’s from Galatians 3:28, actually, and a New Testament professor of mine who specialized in Paul believed that that summed up Paul’s whole Gospel. We are all one in Christ Jesus. In today’s categories we might say that God does not favor man or woman, American or not American, documented or undocumented. God loves all of us and invites all of us to be part of his family.
            One of the things I was complimented on in my Board of Ordained Ministry exam this past week was what they called my “expansive view of God’s kingdom.” It rather surprised me. United Methodist policy is an open table when we celebrate communion. We don’t put any restrictions on it like other denominations do. Catholics have to be Catholic and have recently gone to confession. In the Episcopal Church I grew up in the Book of Common Prayer says that only “Baptized Christians are invited.”[4] Other churches you must be a member of that particular church. But we say that God’s table is for everyone. Everyone is invited, everyone is welcome. And we always have enough for all. The other vision I think we are always striving for is the one from Revelation where John of Patmos says he sees people from every tribe, language, and nation worshiping God together.[5] And for me, that’s all of it: figuring out how to be church together. Figuring out how to worship together the same God who loves us all even though we are all different from each other.
We are all part of God’s family. God loves us all, equally. God doesn’t have favorites among us. There are disadvantages to that, because it’s always nice when you’re the favorite, right? You get more attention, get more gifts, you feel more special. However, your feeling special comes at the cost of someone else feeling less special, someone else getting less attention, someone else feeling left out. And that’s the advantage to God not playing favorites. God loves us all equally, that means everyone is offered love. It means everyone is included. It means everyone is welcome. It means not just that everyone is not just welcome, but everyone is greeted with open arms and a warm hug. Not everyone accepts the welcome, not everyone accepts God’s love, and that’s ok. The offer still stands. It’s not a limited time deal. “In every nation anyone who fears God and does what is right is acceptable to him.” May we also be found in that number. Amen.




[1] Matthew 3:15
[2] “This Is My Song,” UMH 437
[3] Acts 10:34-35
[4] Or I might be wrong about this. When I went back to BCP to add the footnote before posting to my blog, I couldn’t find it. Can anyone familiar with it help me out?
[5] Revelation 7:9-10

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

The Trouble with Presents

Epiphany of the Lord
January 8, 2016
Matthew 2:1-12


            Did anyone have any trouble with Christmas presents this year, where the gift you gave was an absolute dud? Or where you found yourself looking at your loved one, wondering silently or out loud, why did you give me this? It happens sometimes, right? It’s the risk in giving gifts. Sometimes what we think is the perfect gift for someone isn’t received quite that way. Or sometimes what someone is so excited to give us, we aren’t quite so excited to receive. We learned this year at my house that, according to my mom, my daughter is just like I was when I was a kid and can’t keep a secret from mom. My mom and my husband put up a valiant effort. All I knew was that she had an idea of what to get me and you could get it at the mall. They managed to keep it a secret until about two days before Christmas, when my daughter accidentally spilled the beans. Or maybe the trouble is you don’t know what to get someone. I learned this year with my middle sister that donating to charity in her and her husband’s name was a perfectly acceptable gift. It never would have occurred to me, because it’s not something we’ve ever done for each other before. But when I was asking for ideas of what to get her and her husband, she mentioned it. So, that’s what we did. Other times, though, the problem is that you feel like the person already has everything they need and everything they want. What do you get the person who already has everything? It makes it that much harder, doesn’t it?
And what would you get a King?! I’m sure over in England young Prince George of Cambridge and Princess Charlotte received many nice baby gifts when they were born. Perhaps some monogrammed towels or something. But what do the wise men bring baby Jesus? The only thing remotely useful was the gold, because Mary and Joseph could use that to pay the innkeeper or perhaps to help pave the way for their trip to Egypt. But frankincense? Was it to mask the odor of the animals in the manger or something? And myrrh??? A spice used to embalm a dead body is not exactly an appropriate gift for a child. Maybe Wednesday Addams might appreciate it. The wise men bring gold, frankincense, and myrrh to give to Jesus. Why? Because they correspond to what are traditionally called the “offices” or the work of Jesus Christ. Gold because he is a King. Frankincense because he is a priest. And myrrh, which I’m hoping isn’t too much of a stretch here, goes with his office of being a prophet. John Wesley stressed the balance of preaching Christ in all his offices, and so we’re going to touch on each of the three this morning.
The first one is probably the easiest. We’re used to talking about Jesus as King. We even have Christ the King Sunday as the last Sunday of the church year, the Sunday before Advent begins. We’re used to King Jesus, a ruler, a sovereign, our Lord, the big guy upstairs who’s in charge. Jesus is the one who reigns forever, the eternal king. We know Jesus is royalty, we know we live in God’s kingdom. I’ve preached on that before. So, let’s move on.
Jesus is also a priest. In Hebrews it’s explained that Jesus is the great high priest, the one who intercedes for us before God. Historically, that was the role of the priest, or the pastor. The priest talked to God for the people and talked to the people on behalf of God. He was the intermediary, the go-between (and traditionally it was always a ‘he’). The Protestant Reformation changed some of that, with the idea that people could directly approach God and didn’t need a priest to intercede for them. You don’t have to tell me what you want to tell God; you can tell God directly yourself. And you can listen to God directly yourself. You don’t need a go-between, or a translator. You’re probably now wondering why I’m here and why you’re here and if I haven’t just talked myself out of a job. Or, rather, I’ve talked Jesus out of a job. Anyway, we believe that Jesus interceded with God on our behalf, and only because of Jesus do we dare approach the throne of grace with boldness. Jesus is why we have access to God. I’m here to remind you of that. Incense is still burned in some high church services. Has anyone ever been to one? Probably the worst was the baccalaureate mass when I graduated from college. I went to a Jesuit university and so it was a high Jesuit mass, where I was told the Catholics didn’t know what was going on, either. 

And when they brought in the incense in the thurible, they didn’t just gently swing it up the aisle. Oh no. They shook it over our heads on both sides of the aisle! They made sure we were thoroughly blessed and sanctified and ready for mass. And we know that Jesus sanctifies us and makes us holy.
Finally, Jesus as Prophet. Prophets are those who reveal God’s will, who enlighten our minds and teach us. Prophets speak the Word of God and teach the people. Yet, it is also dangerous to be a prophet. Jesus even says that prophets are rejected in their own hometown, just as Jesus was driven out of his home town of Nazareth. Prophets are often killed, martyred. People don’t always want to hear God’s will. They don’t always want to hear God’s Word. In some church services, and sometimes what we use for our opening prayer, is what’s called a Prayer of Illumination, praying to God to open our minds and our hearts that as the Scriptures are read and proclaimed we might hear with joy what God says to us today. We have to get ready to hear God’s Word. Can you imagine hearing it and not being ready? It’d probably be like being hit with a 2x4 or run over with a semi. Or else it would just make no sense at all. One reason we come to church is to hear and read God’s Word together, to prepare ourselves together to read it and to receive it. And if you’re not in a posture to receive, it can virtually impossible to receive anything, you know? You’re in the middle of your shower and someone hands you a birthday present. What are you going to do with that? You’re not in a position to receive it. You’re liable to yell at the person who’s trying to be nice and give you a present! That’s why prophets often get their heads chopped off. That’s why you need myrrh. Not many prophets reach old age. The words they speak are sometimes a little too harsh, a little too hard, calling for too much more than we’re willing to change or sacrifice. Even Jesus gets crucified. The myrrh given to the baby foreshadows the cross on Good Friday. The last verse of the hymn we just sang (“We Three Kings,” UMH 254) says Jesus is “King and God and sacrifice.” Sacrifice is the Prophet’s role as they are often asked to give up a lot to speak God’s Word. Even Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice, giving his life for us.

John Wesley said that we are to preach Christ in all his offices, Prophet, Priest, and King, and to balance them. Yet, we don’t have a Christ the Prophet Sunday, or a Christ the Priest Sunday. I don’t know, maybe that’s what Good Friday and Easter are all about, and they just get a different name. We all have our favorite ways to think of Jesus, whether it’s friend or brother or shepherd or king or on the cross, or risen. We all have our preferred images of Jesus, whether the picture up here on the wall, or surrounded by children, or with sheep, or the picture from Revelation of “behold, I stand at the door and knock.” This Epiphany, I pray that a new way is revealed to you, that you are able to look at Christ in a new light, in a new role. Perhaps as priest, perhaps as prophet. Bring in the balance you were missing. It’d be like if you only ever read one of the four Gospels; it’s time to read the other three. Branch out a little bit, stretch a little. It may be uncomfortable at first. You may be ready to crucify Jesus again, or me. Find a different image or idea of Jesus than the one you usually think of, and see what happens. We don’t get to shape Christ, and we don’t get only our favorite parts of him. We get the stories we don’t like as much, either. Maybe you’re a bacon lover and you hate that Jesus cast a whole herd of pigs off a cliff. Or maybe it’s something else Jesus does that you just don’t understand. Overturning tables in the temple. Telling us to give all we have. To turn the other cheek, when someone slaps us. To forgive those who wrong us. To not repay back evil for evil but to love our enemies. Jesus says a lot of hard things, there’s gotta be at least one that rubs you the wrong way. If you need help looking for it, give me a call. One of the books I inherited from my Grandpa when he retired as a pastor is called “The Hard Sayings of Jesus.” Sit in an uncomfortable space. Find Jesus there. Find grace there. Let something new be revealed. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Wednesday, January 4, 2017

Bad News Right after Christmas

1st Sunday after Christmas
January 1, 2017
Hebrews 2:10-18; Matthew 2:13-23

            The other day in the car, my daughter asked for the “true love” song. And I had to stop and think what on earth is the “true love” song? Are we talking about a love song? Are we talking about a song from a Disney movie? What did she mean? And then I stopped being awestruck and decided to be practical and think, we’ve only been listening to Christmas songs. We’ve only had Christmas carols on in the car and at church. We haven’t played any other songs. So, is there is a Christmas song with true love…? Aha. Did you figure out which song is the “true love” song? It was “The 12 Days of Christmas,” which we had just sung at home the night before. The 12 Days of Christmas are now most famous as a song about someone receiving lots of presents from their “true love.” However, I assume at least most of y’all are familiar with the Christian context for the 12 days of Christmas; it’s how long the Christmas season lasts in the church. Just as we go through four Sundays of Advent and 40 days of Lent, each season in the church has a certain amount of time that it lasts. And Christmastide is twelve days long, from Christmas Day, December 25th, through January 5th, which is also known as Twelfth Night. It ends then because January 6th is when we celebrate Epiphany, or the coming of the wise men, which we will celebrate in church next Sunday. However, the Twelve Days have been celebrated in western Christianity since before the Middle Ages and were traditionally a time of celebration.
This year, I learned something new about that tradition, which is that the twelve days each traditionally celebrate a feast day for a saint.[1] Christmas Day, of course, is about the birth of Jesus. December 26th remembers St. Stephen, the first Christian martyr, whom you can look up in the book of Acts in the Bible. Stephen was the one chosen by the disciples to take Judas’ place, so that there would still be 12 disciples. However, he’s arrested and stoned by the authorities for claiming that Jesus is the Son of God. Today, the 8th day of Christmas, honors Mary, the mother of Jesus. Back on Wednesday, the 4th day of Christmas, was what is called the Feast of the Holy Innocents, or sometimes, the massacre of the infants, and it stems from the text we read for our Gospel lesson this morning.
So, we know pretty well the Christmas story, right? Jesus is born in a manger among all the animals because there’s no room in the inn. God sends an angel to tell some shepherds, who immediately come to see Jesus. And then next to see Jesus are the wise men. After they leave, Joseph has a dream in which an angel tells him to take his family and flee to Egypt because King Herod is about to begin a massive babyhunt to search for baby Jesus and kill him. So, at a tender age, baby Jesus and his parents become refugees and immigrants. They leave their home country because of political persecution. They flee for their lives, because it is too dangerous to stay. 

(Stained glass window at St John's Episcopal Church, Kingsville, MD; the only one I've ever seen depicting this part of Jesus' life, fleeing as a refugee with his family)

We talk about Jesus being fully human and living through every human experience and so understanding what we go through. Our Hebrews reading this morning put it that “Since the children are people of flesh and blood, Jesus himself became like them and shared their human nature… This means that he had to become like his people in every way…”[2] Well, here’s one of those ways Jesus became like us that we don’t talk about very much: Jesus was a refugee. Jesus was an immigrant. The Holy Family leaves, during the cover of night, to go to a foreign country, where you can be sure they didn’t have all the proper papers for entry and they certainly didn’t have the years it often takes to legally enter and stay in our country.
Let’s add a little context as to just why baby Jesus was such a threat that Herod was willing to commit mass infanticide. There’s one other place in the bible where we read about a King killing baby boys and that’s at the beginning of the book of Exodus. This is when the Israelites became slaves in Egypt and the Egyptians wanted to subdue and oppress them so much that the Pharaoh decreed that all Hebrew baby boys should be killed at birth. There were two midwives who worked their way around this and managed to save some, and there was a mother who managed to save her baby boy, by putting him in a basket in the Nile River. That baby boy was Moses, and he was indeed a threat to the Pharaoh, as he was the one God used to free God’s people from slavery and oppression.
Now, we have another baby boy who is a threat to the King, because he’s also called a King. When the wise men go to King Herod, they ask for the baby who was born King of the Jews. Except, King Herod is King of Palestine, where the Jews live, and he worked hard to become King! Herod the Great ruled Judea from the year 37 BC to the year 4 BC.  He was appointed by the Roman Empire, by Caesar Augustus, yet he had to fight for four years to firmly take control of his kingdom and so he never felt his power was fully secure.  Herod’s kingdom was only 1,350 square miles, slightly larger than Baltimore and Harford Counties put together, and he built at least seven major fortresses so that he was never far from a defensible stronghold.  He was known for rebuilding the temple in Jerusalem on its grandest scale ever, and this is the temple that Jesus and his disciples knew.  Some of those are the reasons he is known as Herod the Great.  Yet, King Herod was also known for ruling with an iron fist, violently suppressing all opposition and not above killing his own family members, such as his first wife, his brother-in-law, and three of his own sons, when he suspected them of wanting his throne.  You can see that King Herod wasn’t be above killing a baby, either.
King Herod was furious that the wise men didn’t come back to report to him what they found, as he had told them to, and he gave orders to his soldiers to kill all the baby boys in and around Bethlehem who were two years old and younger. This is what we call the massacre of the innocents, or the holy innocents. Little children who had done nothing wrong other than to happen to be born around the same time and the same place as baby Jesus. The story is often used to highlight children who suffer and die as a result of abuse, neglect, poverty, war, slavery, or any other reason that is completely no fault of their own. These are stories that need sharing and suffering that needs alleviating.
There are other children who suffer and sometimes die as a result of being refugees and immigrants, and I think we often miss that Jesus and his family had to leave their homeland for a foreign country because of the very real threat of death. A refugee is a person who has been forced to leave their country in order to escape war, persecution, or natural disaster, and who cannot safely return home. It’s estimated that “every five seconds a person is displaced in the world today.”[3] We know we’ve certainly been hearing a lot more about it in the news today, especially Syrian refugees fleeing to Europe. Chances are that you know someone who left their home country and come to the U.S. because it wasn’t safe for them to stay where they were. One such person is Pastor Jorge, my Associate at Piney Grove in charge of Hispanic ministry. The church he pastored in Cuba was growing so large so quickly that it was seen as a threat by the Cuban government. So, the Cuban government threatened Pastor Jorge. That’s why he came to America four years ago, without his family. He’s here as an immigrant; he’s not claiming asylum, and so he’s not included in any refugee statistic. Yet he left his home country because of the very real threat of political persecution. There are many stories like his, including Jesus’.
Let us remember the “bad news” of Christmas along with the good news. Yes, Jesus is born! And then Jesus and his family had to flee persecution and become refugees. This morning let us remember not just innocent children who suffer, but especially children who are displaced from their homes, fleeing war and conflict with their families. When I taught English as a Second Language at an elementary school in North Carolina, many of my students fell into this category. Born in another country, yet coming to America at a young age to join their parents in the American dream. In some families, the parents came first and worked for a few years before sending for the children to join them. Other families took their children with them, barefoot and in rags, crossing the border. It is not our place to judge the parents; it is our place to love the children and work to alleviate the suffering and culture shock caused by immigration. Our Hebrews reading reminded us that Jesus was just like us, human in every way. Elsewhere in Hebrews it says that we are to always welcome the stranger, to show hospitality, knowing that sometimes when we do so, we entertain angels unawares. This year, let’s include in that peace and goodwill to each other peace and goodwill toward the stranger as well. We never know when we’re about to welcome an angel, or Jesus and his parents, a family in search of refuge. May we be that place of refuge for others. Amen.