Wise Words

14^th Sunday after Pentecost

August 26, 2018

Ephesians 6:10-20; John 6:56-69

“Sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me.” Anyone ever heard that? Anyone ever said that? The nursery rhyme first showed up in print in England in 1844 and later here in America in 1862 in The Christian Recorder.[1] I’ve never seen it in print, but I do remember hearing it on the playground as a kid. I may have even said it, because it’s the perfect comeback for when someone’s calling you names but you want to take the high road and not call them names back. Right? It’s saying that whatever you say can’t hurt me, words can’t give me a broken bone or a bruise and so I don’t care what you say. Yet this adage proclaiming indifference to what’s said isn’t really true. Words can hurt. Words can even have a physicality to them if you think about how you physically react to what someone says, such as taking a step back, or clapping, or laughing. And the scars from words can often take much longer to heal than bruises and scrapes and broken bones. Words matter. Words can hurt, and, thank God, can also heal.

Let’s begin with the words in our Gospel story this morning. Jesus has just finished this long discourse that we’ve been reading the past few Sundays in John 6 about eating his flesh and drinking his blood. At a glance, if you don’t dig into what Jesus is saying, it sounds a lot like cannibalism. Jesus says you have to eat him, and become like vampires and drink his blood. It’s a little bizarre and quite gruesome if you just take it literally. It is definitely a difficult teaching, and we have the benefit of knowing and receiving the tradition of holy communion! The disciples and early followers of Jesus didn’t have association yet. We in the church hear eat bread and drink blood and we think communion. Imagine if we didn’t make that connection! It’s no wonder that many disciples left Jesus after hearing Jesus say this!

Because so many turned back and no longer followed Jesus, the number of disciples went down to twelve, at least according in John’s Gospel. “So Jesus asked the twelve, ‘Do you also wish to go away?’”[2] Because if everyone else leaves, why wouldn’t they want to leave also? Or at least consider leaving? Yet Simon Peter, God bless him, gave this great answer of faith. He said, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”[3] Peter did not deny that Jesus is teaching them difficult lessons. He didn’t deny that the twelve hadn’t thought about leaving, also. Yet they had also put some major thought into it. There was nowhere else for them to go. Only in Jesus have they found words of life. Only in Jesus is their salvation. They didn’t know just how it was going to work out. Remember, Simon Peter was also the one who said he’d never deny Jesus and that the crucifixion didn’t have to happen. The twelve already knew by this point that following Jesus wasn’t going to be easy. They knew Jesus was going to say some weird stuff that was going to take them a while before they understood, if they ever understood at all. But they also already knew that only Jesus has those wonderful words of life. They weren’t going to find them anywhere else. That’s the wisdom that Jesus has and offers, those words of life.

Let’s take a look at another of those words of life that can also be a bit confusing. In Ephesians this morning we read about “the armor of God.” Paul describes the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, shoes that proclaim the gospel of peace, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. The sword of the Spirit is the only item of armor listed that is designed to be used offensively. And Paul says it’s the Word of God. Now, this isn’t the only place where the Word of God is compared to a sword. Hebrews 4:12 says “the word of God is alive and active, sharper than any double-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.” This sword isn’t a blunt instrument, and while it pierces and divides, it does so to get down to the root, to the heart, to determine and discern the matters of the heart. There is no hiding from this sword. It may even help you learn things about yourself that you didn’t know, about your deepest passions and desires. Psalm 37:4 says, “Take delight in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart.” Sometimes we don’t even recognize the desires of our heart until after God has given them to us. The Word of God gets down past the marrow, down into your heart and soul. It goes farther than a regular sword. This is a Word that is more piercing than sticks and stones; it can do a lot more than mere sticks and stones.

You know why this Word can do that, don’t you? Think of one of the names for Jesus: Jesus is the Word of God. The Gospel of John begins by saying “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God… and the Word became flesh and lived among us.”[4] This is Jesus. Jesus is the Word of God, the Word made flesh, God come in person to live among us. So of course this Word can pierce down to the heart. Of course this Word can knows the hidden desires of your heart. Of course this Word is alive and active and sharper than any sword. We’re talking about Jesus, Jesus who has the wonderful words of life, Jesus who is the wonderful Word of life. And so Paul writes to take with you “the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God,”[5] which is Jesus. Take Jesus with you, so that you can “stand against the wiles of the devil.”[6] Take Jesus with you, because our only important battle as Christians isn’t against any person or people but against the powers we cannot see but do serious damage to individuals, families, and communities. These are things like selfishness, greed, and cruelty, anger, partisanship, and envy. These are the things we need Jesus’ words to guard against, to remind us that he offers us words of life, words that build up, words that show love, words that heal, words that stand against and undo those evil powers. Words like, “I forgive you,” “I love you,” “You are beautiful,” “I’m so glad you’re in my life.” That is how you use words offensively, to undo the lies, the false words you’ve been told about yourself and to stand in the face of future words that are meant to hurt you. Words can hurt. Don’t deceive yourself. But Jesus offers words of life. They’re not all easy, they’re not smooth words, but they are the words of eternal life.

The others left Jesus because he wasn’t saying smooth words, and that happens throughout the Bible, throughout the life of the church. Through the prophet Isaiah, God says, “They are a rebellious people… who say to the seers, ‘Do not see,’ and to the prophets, ‘Do not prophesy to us what is right; speak to us smooth things, prophesy illusions, leave the way, turn aside from the path, let us hear no more about the Holy One of Israel.”[7] God’s people say this from time to time, foolish words of self-deception, or of not wanting to do the hard work of following Christ. Preachers do this sometimes, giving an easy sermon rather than one that convicts or corrects. Some of Jesus’ words are very straightforward: Love God. Love your neighbor as yourself. Others, like “eat my flesh and drink my blood,” can make you scratch your head.

But Jesus says, “It is the spirit that gives life… The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life.”[8] Read and listen to Jesus’ words with your spirit open to receive, read alongside God’s Spirit, let the story read you. Where do you find yourself in this story? Are you inclined to leave, like the ones who said this teaching is too hard? Are you feeling resigned, that there is nowhere else to go? Do you know and believe that Jesus is the Holy One of God? Do you trust that he has the words of life, and are willing to follow him, even when his words aren’t smooth, even when his Word divides joint from marrow and gets down into your heart? Are you willing? Are ye able, as the hymn asks, to be crucified with the Master?[9] Are ye able, to follow where he leads, down roads not of your own choosing, serving all of God’s people, wrestling with the hard questions, looking beyond the letter to the Spirit and to life? The answering refrain to that hymn says, “Lord, we are able. Our spirits are thine. Remold them, make us, like thee, divine. Thy guiding radiance above us shall be a beacon to God, to love, and loyalty.”[10]

Our answer is the same as Simon Peter’s, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know that you are the Holy One of God.” We don’t understand everything, but that’s why it’s walking by faith and not by sight. We just know that these are the wonderful words of life. And we know that words matter, more than sticks or stones. After all, we have all that armor so that we can stand against the devil’s schemes.  Put on that belt of truth, breastplate of righteousness, shoes that proclaim the gospel of peace, Hold on to that shield of faith, put on the helmet of salvation, and take up the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. With faith, not with understanding, we stand against those things that would tear our community and our families apart. Yet, as St. Anselm from the 11^th century put it, we have faith seeking understanding, and so we trust “we’ll understand it better by and by.”[11] Or, as Saint Paul said, “now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face.”[12] Things in the Christian life that don’t make sense is another sermon. This is about those “wonderful words of life [that] offer pardon and peace to all.”[13] May we share these words with all we meet as well.

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[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sticks_and_Stones

[2] John 6:67

[3] John 6:68-69

[4] John 1:1, 14

[5] Ephesians 6:17

[6] Ephesians 6:11b, NRSV

[7] Isaiah 30:9-11

[8] John 6:63

[9] UMH 530

[10] Ibid.

[11] UMH 525

[12] 1 Corinthians 13:12

[13] UMH 600

Got Wisdom?

13^th Sunday after Pentecost

August 19, 2018

1 Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14

Our Old Testament reading this morning sounds like a happy story. Solomon succeeds his father, David, as King over Israel. His reign is established. And in a dream, God offers Solomon whatever he wants. Open-ended question, “Ask for whatever you want me to give you.” Solomon talks about his father’s relationship with God, and then asks for wisdom. God is pleased with his answer and grants it. After all, this isn’t something that will benefit Solomon only but all of God’s people under Solomon’s rule. Then, as a bonus, God throws in wealth and honor, too, and, if Solomon keeps God’s commands like his father David did, then Solomon will also enjoy a long life. This sounds great, right? What leader doesn’t want and need wisdom? Plus the added benefit of wealth, honor, and longevity! Happy story. Or is it? You may have noticed that we skipped a chunk of chapter 2. You see, the lectionary edited out all the ugly parts. In those sections we didn’t read was about just how Solomon establishes his kingdom.  How do you establish yourself as king? You kill all other claims to the throne, who in this case, were Solomon’s half-brothers, some of whom were older than him and, therefore, had a more legitimate claim to the throne. And Solomon made a couple key political marriages. That’s how he established his kingdom. It wasn’t a smooth transition where David died and Solomon was immediately declared King. There was a little more political intrigue going on behind the scenes.

What I found interesting in preparing for this sermon was that all of the commentaries I read commented on Solomon’s character. Every single one felt the need to point out that yes, asking for wisdom was one good thing Solomon did, but that doesn’t mean that everything he did was good and wise. Solomon does not get the long life God offered him because he actually led Israel astray from God and his kingdom gets split up after his death. There are hints of that even in what we read, about how “Solomon showed his love for the Lord by walking according to the statutes of his father David, except that he offered sacrifices and burned incense on the high places.” That “except” is because those high places were the places dedicated to Baal, another god. Solomon worshiped God, which is good, but he didn’t worship him in Jerusalem, where the ark of the covenant was; he worshiped God at another god’s altar. And really, this just makes Solomon human. Just like any of the rest of us, he got some things right, like asking for wisdom. And then there are other things he could have done better.

Let’s start at the beginning. Solomon’s father was David, the shepherd boy who beat Goliath, the one chosen by God to succeed King Saul. And Solomon’s mother is Bathsheba. You may be familiar with the story of how David sees Bathsheba bathing, wants her, takes her, gets her pregnant, and then tries to set up Bathsheba’s husband so he’d think he was the father of the baby. But her husband is a good, upstanding soldier who won’t sleep with his wife while his brothers are in battle. So David puts him on the frontline of the fighting, where he is killed. Then David takes Bathsheba to his palace. The prophet Nathan calls David out on what he’s done, and that’s where we get Psalm 51 that we use often during Lent, because it’s a psalm of confession and repentance. That first baby Bathsheba carries dies, but the next baby is Solomon. So Solomon is not the oldest son of David, or even the second or third oldest. He is not set to inherit the crown. But near the end of David’s life, David decides Solomon should be the next king. So, Solomon has his father’s blessing, but then has to establish his rule by killing the other claimants, his half-brothers.

​Now, we’re up to chapter 3. As I mentioned, Solomon doesn’t sacrifice in Jerusalem, where God wants him to worship, but at high places that were holy to Baal. God seems to tolerate it at least, and appears to Solomon one night during a dream. Here is something Solomon definitely does right. He could have asked God for anything! Riches! Deaths of his enemies! World domination! But he asks for wisdom. He needs help governing and leading God’s people. He’s not afraid to admit to God that he needs help. He shows vulnerability in this request, which is not something a king can often show. But he admits to God that he needs help to be a good king. God gives him the wisdom he asks for, and then also wealth and honor, and conditional old age. And that’s where our passage ends. 

​Solomon wanted to rule wisely and render the best decisions for his kingdom. Seeking to live wisely is a process of constant discernment. What’s best? What will happen if I do this? What about that? Who’s affected? How are they affected? There are a lot of factors to take into consideration. Very few things in life are purely good or bad. And the line runs right down the middle of every human heart. That’s why the commentators want to present a whole portrait of Solomon, not just his wise side. The line between good and evil isn’t between groups or countries, good guys and bad guys, cowboys and Indians; the line is in the middle of every human heart. Each of us are capable of being wise; each of us have moments when we’re foolish. There are times we do a better job of loving our neighbor, there are times when we ignore the cry of the needy. That’s why we need confession, too, just like David. We need God’s help, too, just like Solomon. We seek to live wisely. Who doesn’t? We all want to live well and make good decisions. We all want to say words that are loving and healing and helpful. And the right choice isn’t always the easy one or the popular one or even the first one you think of. We all need wisdom.

            This past week I read a novel about a group of friends the summer before their senior year of high school.[1] One of the friends throws a party, with drinking, which the parents know about. The parents figured it was safer because then no one would be driving, everyone was welcome to spend the night, and it kept the kids all in one place. They’d done it many times before and there had never been any problems, until this one night. This one night a few of the kids decide to leave the party and go to McDonald’s. They don’t even make it out to the main road. Four of the kids die; one survives, the one who was sober, the only one who was wearing a seatbelt, the only one who recognized that the driver had had too much to drink to get behind a wheel. But she didn’t want to be “that person” who makes a big deal out of it. He said he was fine to drive; she decided to take him at his word. The novel is told from her perspective and does a really good job at wrestling with her feelings, her guilt, her trying to figure out if this one bad decision made her a bad person, if it defined her whole life. She grieved that it defined the lives of her friends who died, when she knew that there was so much more to them. She ultimately decides that the parents were good people who made a series of bad decisions that led to them allowing and enabling underage drinking. And as she eventually forgives herself for her role in everything, she determines that she is a good person, who made one very poor decision.

            That’s what I mean by the line between good and evil running down the middle of all of our hearts. We want to take people at their word when they say they’re okay to drive. We tend to succumb to peer pressure, at any age, and don’t want to make a big fuss about something when no one else is. We get away with bad decisions so often that we don’t think much of the next bad decision, because we assume we’ll get away with it, too.

            Solomon is known as a great king, renowned for his wisdom and his wealth. He’s the one God chose to build the temple in Jerusalem. Yet Solomon marries women from other religions who lead him away from God. He doesn’t seem to apply his God-given wisdom in all areas of his life. Solomon was a great king, yet also dangerously flawed. He’s hard to put in any one category, other than, he’s human.

            Today there is a strong tendency to emphasize a strong divide between right and wrong, black and white, good and bad, to the point that we demonize those we consider bad. Whether a political party or a religion or wherever else a line may be drawn, and there are so many places a line can be drawn: a TV channel, what kind of car you drive, where you do your shopping, what you believe about a particular issue, we tend to draw a line between groups. We find this tendency in movies, on TV, in sports, even in church, sometimes. This person is good; that person is bad. The truth is a bit more nuanced. Solomon was good in many ways, and he was not in other ways. He followed God in some things, he didn’t in other things. The same is true of us. We are wise about some things; we’re wise-asses in other things. Yet the Lord can redeem all things, make all things new. No one action defines your whole life, because Jesus already did that. The most defining moment of your life happened 2,000 years ago on a hill in Calvary. You are loved. You are forgiven. You are called to go and do the same. Love God, love your neighbor, love yourself. Forgive God, forgive your neighbor, forgive yourself. That’s living wisely.

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[1] If There’s No Tomorrow by Jennifer L. Armentrout

Friends (A Reprise)

12^th Sunday after Pentecost

August 12, 2018

Friendship Sunday

(Joint worship with Jennings Chapel & Poplar Springs UMC)

Job 2:11-13; Ecclesiastes 4:9-12; John 15:12-17

            If you’ve ever wondered if Friendship Day is one of those made-up Hallmark holidays, like Secretaries’ Day or Grandparents’ Day, well, it is, at least its early history in the United States. In 1930, Joyce Hall, the founder of Hallmark, wanted August 2 to be a day when people celebrated their friendships by sending cards.[1] However, in the 1930’s, people recognized this as a marketing and commercial gimmick and refused to participate in it, so that it largely died out by the 1940s. Yet other countries in Asia and South America had independently thought of the idea as well. And once I translated the day into Spanish, Día de la Amistad, I realized I was familiar with the holiday, because it’s celebrated in Central America. The year I lived in Nicaragua, on July 30, I was wished “Feliz Día de la Amistad” and I was even given a few cards, which reminded me the most of the Valentine cards that children exchange here in the U.S. A few years ago, the United Nations declared July 30 to be International Friendship Day. Many places celebrate it on July 30, like I did in Nicaragua; others move it to the first Sunday of August. We moved it to the second Sunday so that we could all celebrate it together. After all, many of the members of our three congregations know each other and are friends.

As you heard in our Scripture readings, friendship is a common theme in the bible, and there are many more passages I could have picked. I like the story of Job’s friends, because while most of the book of Job is speeches by these three friends, by Job, and by God, before his friends opened their big, fat mouths and said lots of unhelpful stuff, they sat with him. In silence. For seven days and seven nights. On the ground. And didn’t say a single word, “for they saw that his suffering was very great.”[2] These friends didn’t start by consoling him. They didn’t start by saying how unfair life is. They didn’t say a single word, but sat with Job in silence, and let him grieve. What a mark of friendship!  They know that “to everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven,” to quote from Ecclesiastes 3. That litany includes “a time to keep silence and a time to speak,”[3] and that’s a mark of a good friend. To know when to speak, and when to keep silent takes a lot of discernment. And if you were to keep reading in Job, you’d see that the friends let Job break the silence first. Job speaks first, before any of his friends, and his friends just listen. They let him speak first, before they offer their own words of comfort and advice. They just sit with him. This one action they did better than any of their words, because once they speak, they encourage Job to curse God and they say he must have done something wrong to suffer so greatly. The problem is that Job knows that he did not deserve this ordeal, and he knows that cursing God is wrong. Job curses other things, to be sure, including the day of his birth, but he does not curse God, like his friends suggest. These friends’ words aren’t good, but this first action, sitting for a week on the ground in silence, speaks volumes.

In our Gospel this morning, we have another action taken by friends. Jesus is speaking here to his disciples, and he says, “The greatest love you can have for your friends is to give your life for them. And you are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not call you servants any longer, because servants do not know what their master is doing. Instead, I call you friends, because I have told you everything I heard from my Father.”[4] “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”[5] Are the friends sitting next to you this morning ones for whom you would lay down your life? Would you give your life for your friends here at church? For your family? For your neighbors? Would you spend a week in silence with them, letting them grieve, if that’s what they needed from you? That’s the first action Jesus describes, giving our life for our friends.

The second one he says is that we are his friends if we do what he tells us. Jesus is explaining the relationship here, and it’s not king and servants, it’s not teacher and disciples, although those are all true, but Jesus and his disciples have become friends. Isn’t it nice when a hierarchical relationship levels out? Teacher and student become friends. Boss and employee become friends. Pastor and parishioner become friends. It doesn’t always happen, and we still serve King Jesus, yet the king calls us his friends. We are his friends if we do what he tells us. It doesn’t quite sound like true friendship with that condition on there, does it? And yet some friendships are conditional, or only for a season. Think of the school friend you lost touch with when the schoolyear ended. Or a friend from church you never heard from again when they moved away. Some friendships are only for a season, and it’s sad when the friendship dies, yet it’s also natural. There are some friends who are only in our lives for a season.  If everything has a season, like we read in Ecclesiastes, then that includes friendships, too. Most friendships end when “people no longer have the opportunity to be together in the same [place],” like at church or school or work.[6]   A study was done in the Netherlands that found that after seven years, 70% of a person’s friends had changed.[7]  Most of our friendships are only for a season.

However, some friendships do stand the test of time and last the rest of our lives, and that’s the kind of friendship Jesus is hoping we will have with him. How does our friendship with Jesus last? If we do what he commands us. And what does Jesus command us? He says that the two greatest commandments are to love God with all your heart, with all your mind, with all your soul, and with all your strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself. That’s how we are Jesus’ friends, by loving God, loving ourselves, and loving our neighbors. Now there are some people who are only seasonal friends of Jesus. They pray only when they’re in trouble. They come to church only when they don’t have something better to do on Sunday.  Or only when they like the pastor.  Or perhaps they’re “Chreaster’s”; they only come on Christmas and Easter.  Jesus is looking for friends, though, who are there through good times and bad, there on holidays and on ordinary days. Apparently 70% of your friendships are seasonal; your friendship with Jesus, however, should be in the other 30%.

Finally, in chapter 4 of Ecclesiastes we read this beautiful description of friendship. “Two are better than one because they have a good return for their hard work. If either should fall, one can pick up the other. But how miserable are those who fall and don’t have a companion to help them up!  Also, if two lie down together, they can stay warm. But how can anyone stay warm alone?  Also, one can be overpowered, but two together can put up resistance. A rope made of three cords is hard to break.” A lot of that is common sense, and yet on our own, we don’t put it all together and apply it to friendship. Yes, the thicker a rope is, the harder it is to break it. When my husband’s out of town, I add an extra blanket to the bed to keep warm. Yet I also remember a spring break mission trip in college when we spent one night just across the U.S. border in Ciudad Juarez. We each only had one thin blanket and it got really cold that night. I stayed warm by curling up in a ball and tucking my blanket in on all sides, but partway through the night another girl crawled into my bunk so that we could share warmth and have a double layer of blankets on top of us. There are times when you fall and you need help getting up, whether from a chair next to you or another person. And working with someone on a project to share the workload always makes it more bearable as you share the responsibility and then get to share in the enjoyment of a job well done.

            The implication that was stated in that article about making lasting friendships was that “if a friendship is meaningful, it needs to be nurtured.”[8] If you want your friendship to stand the test of time, then you have to invest time in it. In order to have a friend who will come sit with you while you grieve, you have to develop and nurture that friendship. It means simply having a relationship with Jesus is not enough; you have to nurture that relationship. Do things together. Talk together. And listen. Enjoy each other’s company. It’s part of the importance of date night for married couples, to make sure you continue to invest in and care for your relationship. No one will do it for you. Most of our friendships are seasonal, so make sure you put time and effort into the ones that you want to last. I trust that your friendship with God is one of them; that’s why churches offer bible studies and Sunday school, that’s why prayer here at church and prayer by yourself at home are so important. Spend time with God. Nurture that relationship. Call on him just like you would a good friend, to share good news and bad, to meet up for lunch, to give a helping hand. Don’t be the stereotypical teenager who only asks their parents for money. God’s not a vending machine. He’s the kind of friend who lays down his life for you. And asks that you would do the same. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Friendship_Day

[2] Job 2:13

[3] Ecclesiastes 3:7b

[4] John 15:13-15, GNB

[5] John 15:13, NRSV

[6] http://www.huffingtonpost.com/irene-s-levine/the-seven-year-expiration_b_208468.html

[7] Ibid., I couldn’t find the original study; just lots of articles citing the same study by Gerald Mollenhorst

[8] Ibid.

Called

10^th Sunday after Pentecost

July 29, 2018

Ephesians 4:1-16

“Live a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called.”

I did not grow up reading comic books or familiar with the stories of all these superheroes whose movies are coming out. I knew Spiderman from the newspaper comics. I knew Batman from the old 1960s TV show with Adam West and Burt Ward. I knew vaguely of Superman and Wonder Woman. All the rest of these guys have been new to me: X-men, Ironman, Ant Man, Captain America, the Black Panther. It’s been a whole new world that my husband has introduced me to. The ones that intrigue me most are the ones whose stories have biblical overtones, the ones whose values are Christian virtues of honesty, integrity, trust, the ones whose stories are about redemption, loyalty, and human frailty. Ironman is the prodigal son, he’s actually called that in the first movie and there were so many biblical references in that movie it was easy to craft a sermon around it. In addition to movies, Marvel Comics is also dropping TV series on Netflix. We’re currently in the middle of season 2 of Luke Cage. Luke went to prison for a crime he didn’t commit and while in prison, voluntarily went through some experimentation that left him with unbreakable skin and superhuman strength. Season 1 is the story of after he gets out of jail and now in season 2 he is reunited with his father, who’s a pastor. They have some great heart-to-heart father-son conversations, and Luke’s dad tells him that his power is a gift from God and that he has a calling. There are a few more details than that, but it’s the first time where a superhero’s power is attributed to God and where a superhero’s mission is called a calling. Luke has a calling, to use his power for good, to help people, to help bear the burdens of pain and brokenness and darkness, to free people from the oppression of the enemy.

We read this morning Paul’s encouragement to the Ephesians to lead a life worthy of the calling which you have received. This is what Luke tries to do. Live a life worthy of your calling, for you have been called by God. God graciously extended this calling to you. So, lead a life worthy of it. What does that mean? Well, it helps to know just what this calling is.

First, the first thing God calls you is his beloved child.  Before you were called anything else, before your parents named you, before you received nicknames or titles or labels, before you were told you were good at this and bad at that, God called you his beloved child with whom he is well pleased. Before you belonged to anyone else, you belonged to God. Before anyone else gave you a title or a name, God said you were his beloved child. Before anyone else knew your strengths and your weaknesses, God knew. Before anyone else tried to tear you down, God was there, building you up. You are God’s beloved. You were “intimately loved long before [your] parents, teachers, spouses, children, and friends loved or wounded [you].”[1] Listen to that voice that says, “I have called you by name, from the very beginning. You are mine… my Beloved… I have molded you together in the depths of the earth and knitted you together in your mother’s womb. I have carved you into the palms of my hands and hidden you in the shadow of my embrace… I have counted every hair on your head and guided you at every step. Wherever you go, I go with you, and wherever you rest, I keep watch. I will give you food that will satisfy all your hunger and drink that will quench all your thirst. I will not hide my face from you… You belong to me… Nothing will ever separate us.”[2] That is your calling. You belong to God. You are named as God’s own. The seal is placed on our forehead during baptism and nothing can undo it. Living into that life of the baptized, the life of God’s people, that’s what Paul’s talking about when he encourages us to live lives worthy of the call we’ve received. This isn’t making sure we’re worthy of God’s love or worthy of our call; we’re not talking about a burden of proof. This is worthy in the sense that our lives match the call we’ve received, that we’re following the call God has extended to us.

You see, as God’s beloved, God sends us into the world. God sends us into the world to show love, to bind the wounds of the brokenhearted, to offer a kind word, to join God in his work of redeeming and restoring the world. And it’s not so much a doing as it is a way of being in the world. As Paul tells the Ephesians, we are to be “humble and gentle; be patient, [and] bear with one another in love.”[3] What a difference a gentle touch can make! What a difference a kind gesture can make. Letting someone go in front of you. Sharing what you have. Smiling at someone who looks like they’re having a rough day. And bear with one another in love. It’s what we do here in the church. It’s what we do with our families. We love each other, we’re in this together for the long haul, so let’s figure it out. Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase of this verse is to say “Walk—better yet, run!—on the road God called you to travel. I don’t want any of you sitting around on your hands. I don’t want anyone strolling off, down some path that goes nowhere. And mark that you do this with humility and discipline—not in fits and starts, but steadily, pouring yourselves out for each other in acts of love, alert at noticing differences and quick at mending fences.” Pouring yourself out for each other in acts of love. That’s what it means to live a life that matches God calling you his beloved. Remember, God, in the person of Jesus, poured himself out in acts of love. God becoming incarnate, taking on flesh, being born as Jesus, right there is God pouring himself out, long before you even get to the cross. Jesus poured himself out in acts of love many times. We are called, we are invited, to do the same.

“God not only says, ‘You are my Beloved.’ God also asks, ‘Do you love me?’ and offers us countless chances to say ‘Yes.’”[4] Did you say yes at the grocery store, when another shopper pushed past you? Did you say yes, while driving, when another driver apparently didn’t know the rules of a traffic circle? Did you say yes, when listening to a friend who has made some very different decisions than you would have made? Did you say yes when you got up this morning, or did you grumble at having to get up? I still remember a retreat speaker I heard years ago talk about two different ways to greet the Lord in the morning. You can choose to say, “O Lord, it’s morning!” Or, you can choose to say, “O Lord! It’s morning.” How do you begin your day? At every point along your journey there is a choice to say yes to God’s calling and a choice to say no.[5] At each step you can choose to testify to love, to what Jesus has done for you, and act accordingly. Or you can say, no. In a few weeks we’ll read about disciples who left Jesus and stopped following him because his teachings were too hard to accept.[6] They couldn’t do it. And the truth is we couldn’t do it on our own, either. We can only accept God’s invitation to lead a holy life by God’s grace and with God’s help. We need Jesus, too. Because with his help, then we can live lives that are a fitting response to what God has done.  Then we can equip God’s people for the work of ministry and build up Christ’s body, the church. We are in the construction business, not the demolition business! We are here to help each other, to affirm each other’s calling as God’s beloved, to lift each other up when they fall. Because that’s what God’s family does.

Finally, while all are called beloved, while all are called to love God and love your neighbor, while all are to follow John Wesley’s three simple rules of do no harm, do good, and stay in love with God, sometimes there is a call within a call. You may have heard this phrase if you’re familiar with the life of Mother Teresa. At age 18 she became a nun, joining the order of the Sisters of Loreto and was sent to teach in the order’s schools in India. Eighteen years later, she received “a call within a call.” She discerned that God wanted something more from her, “to be poor with the poor and to love [God] in the distressing disguise of the poorest of the poor.” Her order gave her permission to follow this call within a call and she moved to Calcutta and replaced her nun’s habit with a white sari with blue border. At age 40, the Vatican gave her permission to organize the Missionaries of Charity and it was decades more before the world noticed her work.  Mother Teresa followed her call and offered the dying of Calcutta into her home to receive loving care and respect until they died. Mother Teresa knew she was God’s Beloved and she knew this was how God called her to share his love with the world.

Talking about “the world” can be such a vague and unhelpful term. Yes, broadly, we are called to share God’s love with the world. That’s the general call. Yet, there’s also a specific call, we are to share God’s love with people here, in this place, at this time. Here, where we’re planted. The description I find the most helpful in figuring out the details is the way author and pastor Frederick Buechner puts it, “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet.” This is the intersection of your gifts and passions with the world’s needs. What does our community need? What does our church need? What are your strengths and gifts? How would you love to serve the Lord?

God calls you Beloved. God sends you into the world. How do you live so that your life aligns with God’s call? How, specifically, do you build up the church? How do your gifts intersect with the needs of our community? Who are you going to choose to be, remembering that on that great day you’ll be called up and God will ask what you did with the gifts he gave you?[7] Live as people of peace, with humility, gentleness, and patience, pouring yourself out for one another in acts of love. And God will say, “well done, good and faithful servant.” You are God’s beloved, given to the world to bear witness to God’s love, sharing that no one has to prove that they are worthy of being loved, they already are.

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[1] Life of the Beloved by Henri Nouwen, p. 36

[2] Ibid., p. 36-37

[3] Ephesians 4:2

[4] Nouwen, p. 133

[5] Ibid., p. 134

[6] John 6:60-66

[7] Matthew 25:19

Given

9^th Sunday after Pentecost

July 22, 2018

John 6:1-15

This story of Jesus feeding 5,000 men plus women and children is a familiar one to many of us, so let’s change it up a little bit. What would it look like if it happened in a church today?[1] The Finance team would echo Philip’s concern that it would be really expensive to feed this many people. Those on Outreach might reinforce Andrew’s position that there’s not enough money in the budget to cover this project. Worship probably wouldn’t even give an opinion, because they’d be getting ready for the fast-approaching religious festival. The Trustees would help everyone get seated on the lawn, although some might worry about the effects of this event on the church’s landscaping. And if a church did act according to those caricatures, then they’d miss that a miracle was about to happen. Their expectations would be for things to go exactly as planned, no more, no less. Their actions would be simply to ensure the survival of the church, and not to allow room for God to work. Ministry is about doing your best, expecting others to do their best, and leaving space for God to break through. If you put God in a box, if you put the church in a box, then you’re going to miss ways that God can work.

The doxology we read in Ephesians is one of my top favorite verses in the Bible. “To him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us.”[2] God is able to do far more than anything we can ask or imagine. God can make a way where there seems to be no way. That’s what a miracle is. An eight year old who doctors didn’t think would live past age two. Surviving a car accident that totaled the car. Falling in love again after being devastated by an ex. Feeding 5,000 people with five loaves and two fish. Don’t put a limit on what God can do. Then you’ll miss what God is doing. And certainly don’t tell God “never.” I was so burnt out after finishing my master’s in education, I said I’d never go back to school. [Pause.] A mere four years later, I started seminary.

Dave showed me his Ironman pin last weekend. If he hadn’t told me that’s what it was, I would have thought he got it at Cokesbury or another Christian retailer. It said, “Anything is possible,” which is the trademark for the Ironman triathlons. It’s also a variation of what the angel tells Mary, just after saying Mary’s about to become pregnant with Jesus and her barren cousin, Elizabeth, is six months pregnant, “Nothing is impossible with God.”[3] Another way of saying this is what Paul tells the Philippians, “I can do everything through him who gives me strength.”[4] And, to the Ephesians, God can accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine through his power at work within us. Anything is possible with God. So don’t limit God. Don’t think God can do this but God can’t do that. God can’t redeem that person. God can’t use a certain person. God can’t act in this way. Unh-Unh. Anything is possible with God.

The second thing we learn about God in this story is that our God is a God of abundance. Our God is not a god of scarcity, which seems, ironically enough, to be in abundance these days. We hear from so many places: there’s not enough. I have to get mine now or I might not get it at all. I have to get what I want. I deserve what I want. Some of this scarcity is created: companies who only make a limited amount of product. Disney putting movies in a vault for fifty years, so you better buy it now! A mindset of scarcity is based on fear. There’s not enough room. There’s not enough food. There’s not enough money. There aren’t enough Tickle-Me Elmo’s or Build-a-Bear’s or whatever the latest craze is. We’re afraid that what we want is going to be sold out. I have to have mine, and I’m so fearful for it that I’m going to hoard it, I’m not going to share it, it’s mine and if there’s not enough, then too bad for you. Jesus tells a parable about a guy who says the exact same thing.[5] This guy’s a farmer, and a rich farmer, because he doesn’t do the work himself. He owns all the fields and has servants do the sowing and harvesting and stores his grain in bigger, better warehouses. He does not share his grain and you know he does not pay those servants well. What does God tell this rich businessman? “You fool! This very night you will die and then who will get what you prepared for yourself?” Jesus ends the parable by telling the crowd that “This is how it will be with anyone who stores up things for himself but is not rich toward God.” Those who stores up things for themselves have a mindset of scarcity. Not enough.

Those who are rich toward God share God’s mindset of abundance. “Give and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be poured into your lap.” This is the promise Jesus makes in Luke 6. Have a mindset of abundance, as in so much that everyone eats all they want and there are still twelves baskets of food leftover! Don’t worry about there not being enough to go around. There will be. There will be enough and more than enough. You don’t have to hoard it. Don’t be greedy. In the Lord’s Prayer we ask God to “give us our daily bread,”[6] not today’s and tomorrow’s bread, or next week’s bread. Just today’s bread. Enough for today. Let tomorrow worry about tomorrow.[7] You know when the Israelites tried to collect manna for tomorrow it went bad before tomorrow got here.[8] Trust that there will be enough. You don’t have to worry about getting your slice of the pie. God’s got a bigger pie. And more pie. I’m starting to get hungry here.

So, let’s talk about bread, and pie. When you pull that pie out of the oven and it looks all nice and hot and steamy and smells delicious (anyone else hungry yet?), does it ever look too good to eat? Not in my house! In my house it looks good enough to eat! I rarely have any qualms about digging in. But every now and then I pause first. I take a picture of the kids’ birthday cakes before we cut into them. Every now and then I pause to appreciate how the cake or pie or bread or whatever it is looks whole. But you can’t share it around the table if it stays whole. The birthday cake gets cut up. The bread gets broken. It has to be broken before it can be shared, just like I showed the kids at children’s time. You have to peel off the husk and the silk of an ear of corn in order to get to the kernels. A seed has to die in order to produce a plant. It may be the best seed there ever was, but it won’t reach its potential as a great crop unless you take it and plant it and the seed breaks open for the plant to grow.

This is where we’re getting with following Henri Nouwen’s “Life of the Beloved.” We are taken, we are chosen by God, we are blessed, and we offer blessing to others, we are broken, we know this, and then we are given, we are shared. We are taken, blessed, and broken, in order to be given for others. This is what Jesus did with those five loaves of bread and two fish. He took the loaves, gave thanks (blessed them), and distributed them among the crowd, meaning he broke them and he gave them out. Then Jesus did the same with the fish. And it’s the same pattern we do at communion. We take the bread, we bless it, we break it, and then it is given to each of us. The bread has to be broken in order to be given. And same with our lives. Nouwen writes that he “clearly does not mean that we should inflict pain on each other or others to make us better givers. Even though a broken glass can shine brightly, only a fool will break glass to make it shine! As mortal people, brokenness is a reality of our existence, and as we befriend it and place it under the blessing, we will discover how much we have to give – much more than we may ever have dreamed.”[9] And when we break bread together, when we eat together, whether here at church or elsewhere, it’s because we want to be give our lives to each other, it’s because we want “to be given to each other in our brokenness.”[10] I had lunch with a church member this past week and I’ll tell you, when the conversation really got going was when we each shared about our chronic health conditions and all the medications we each take and how often and for how many years! And it wasn’t a competition, there was no oneupmanship. It was a sharing and a building not of sympathy, but of empathy, because we each know what it’s like for the other. Sharing a meal together is vulnerable, because we don’t always know how others are going to react to our brokenness, because we’re afraid of showing our brokenness. My husband and I feel like eating out with our kids puts our parenting skills on full display, for better or worse. Yet the greatest gift you can give someone is the gift of yourself, warts and all.

You are a gift. No, you’re not perfect, no one is. Hopefully you’re aware of both your strengths and your weaknesses, or, your growing edges. And they are all there for you to offer to others. God can do far more with you than you can. Don’t hoard yourself up like grain in the rich fool’s barn. Don’t worry that you’re not tall enough, old enough, young enough, short enough, smart enough, good enough, or any other enough. You are enough. You are a gift. And gifts are made to be shared.

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[1] Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 3, p. 284

[2] Ephesians 3:20

[3] Luke 1:37

[4] Philippians 4:13

[5] Luke 12:16-21

[6] Matthew 6:11

[7] Matthew 6:34

[8] Exodus 16:20

[9] Life of the Beloved, Henri Nouwen, p. 110

[10] Ibid.