Bombshell Sunday

Easter Sunday

March 26, 2016

Acts 10:34-43; John 20:1-18

(Or watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0XTALqEetbY&feature=em-upload_owner)

            What was this past week’s bombshell news for you?  The terrorist attacks in Brussels?  Perhaps bad news from a doctor?  Or maybe bad news from a family member?  Bombshells are almost always bad news.  They are shocks, they are completely unexpected, and we do not like to be on the receiving end of them.  Even those of us who respond well to surprises or who are pretty easy-going and can adapt on the fly don’t like to get them.  We don’t want to hear bad news.  And we certainly don’t want to hear major news when we’re not expecting it and don’t get any warning about it whatsoever.  You know, when someone starts off by saying, “you might want to sit down first,” or prefaces the news with, “I have bad news,” or The Lord of the Rings meme that says, “Brace yourself,” you get at least a two second warning.  

Sometimes, though, people just blurt it out, without any heads-up at all.  This morning’s bombshell news doesn’t feel quite as drastic and shocking because many of us have heard it our entire lives.  The tomb’s empty.  Jesus is risen!  This isn’t bombshell news to us.  We knew Easter was coming.  We planned for it, with special music and flowers and Easter egg hunts and new clothes just for today.  Knowing Sunday’s coming can sometimes make it harder to get into the grief and sadness and betrayal of Good Friday.  As a pastor I have trouble planning and working on the next Holy Week service until we’ve gotten past the previous one.  It’s hard to write an Easter sermon on Good Friday.  Yet we know Jesus’ crucifixion was not the end, we know death does not have the last word.  We know and trust and believe there is resurrection. 

            However, those first three people reported at Jesus’ empty tomb did not have that advance knowledge.  They were living it, day by day, hour by hour.  They didn’t have ESP or a sports almanac from the future.  Now, the disciples did actually have warnings from Jesus, where Jesus told them that he would die in Jerusalem and that he would rise again after three days.  Yet the disciples never understood what Jesus meant when he told them those things.  Even today, the Gospel of John says, “They didn’t yet understand the scripture that Jesus must rise from the dead.”[1]  So, for Mary Magdalene, Peter, and the [air quotes] “other disciple,” who might have been John, finding Jesus’ tomb empty was a bombshell.  It was not what they were expecting, not what they had prepared for, not what they were ready to see, and they didn’t understand and probably had forgotten Jesus’ warnings from what must have felt like ages ago that this was coming.  They came to see the closed tomb, they came to mourn at Jesus’ gravesite, perhaps to place some flowers around it.  They came somber and grieving, and then they are startled and surprised and completely taken aback by this bombshell that the heavy stone has been rolled away from the entrance and Jesus’ body is missing!  Talk about a bombshell!  This wasn’t the plan.  This wasn’t how they were supposed to find things.  They came for some early morning peace and quiet, and instead, what do you mean Jesus isn’t there?!?! Mary Magdalene discovered it first, and then ran to get Peter and the other disciple, who then they ran to the tomb.  This is a major earth-shaking, life-changing bombshell!  Jesus’ body is gone.  And with these three who first discover it, we are given three different responses to the empty tomb.

            Peter, the last of the three to get to the grave, is the first one to go inside the tomb.  He looks around closely and is very observant.  Peter finds the linen cloths and the face cloth that is folded up in its own place.  This is Peter, who we just read about three short days ago when he denied even knowing Jesus.  Peter, whose name means the rock, who Jesus said he will build his church upon, who was handed the keys to the kingdom; he’s the slowest runner, and the first who’s brave enough to go inside the tomb.  Then, we don’t know anything more about his actions except that he goes home.  Peter sees, and he goes home.  He seems to be observant, yet skeptical, at least at this point in his life.  We know later that he figures things out, because we hear what Peter has to say about this day in our reading from the Acts of the Apostles.  Peter said, “We are witnesses to all that Jesus did both in Judea and in Jerusalem. They put him to death by hanging him on a tree; but God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses, and who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead.  He commanded us to preach to the people and to testify that he is the one ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead. All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.”[2]  That’s what Peter has to say.  He is a witness to what God did, and what witnesses do is testify, they share their story.  Peter was a witness to Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection, and so he shared his testimony to the bombshell news of the empty tomb.

            Then there’s “the other disciple,” the one who outran Peter to the tomb, yet did not enter the tomb until after Peter.  We’re told “he saw and believed.”[3]  Now, we assume he saw the same things Peter did, although there are no details, and it’s unclear exactly what he believes.  He doesn’t understand, either, though, because it says none of them did.  So, he believes, even though he doesn’t understand.  This reminds me of some church history and St. Anselm in the 11^th century who wrote that “I do desire to understand Your truth a little, that truth that my heart believes and loves.  For I do not seek to understand so that I may believe; but I believe so that I may understand. For I believe this also, that ‘unless I believe, I shall not understand.’”[4]  What St. Anselm is known for is the phrase “faith seeking understanding,” and it appears that’s where this “other disciple” is coming from as well.  For today, he believes.  And that is enough.  Understanding will come later.  He doesn’t have to understand the bombshell in order to believe it.  And he also goes home, along with Peter. 

            Finally, the third person at the tomb that early morning was the first one to arrive there and who went to get the others, Mary Magdalene.  She saw the bombshell news, and immediately had to share it with others.  When those others then left here again, she stays near the tomb, crying.  She did, after all, come to mourn.  Rather than believing and waiting for understanding to come later, she reminds me more of Jacob from the Old Testament, who wrestled with the angel all night long and would not let go until he received a blessing.  Mary waits.  She’s not ready to go yet; she pushes through and won’t let go until she receives a blessing.  Mary peeks in the tomb, and rather than finding it empty again, this time there are two angels, who ask why she’s crying.  Why are you upset?  Can you name the real reason behind why you’re crying? Mary says, “They’ve taken away my Lord and I don’t know where they’ve put him.”  I preached on that last Easter.  This year, though, let’s go past that, because as soon as she says that, Jesus appears.  And as soon as he says her name, she recognizes him.  And once she recognizes him, he sends her out. Now that she knows the rest of the story of the bombshell of the empty tomb, she is sent out to tell others about this bombshell news of Jesus’ resurrection. 

The Gospel of John does not judge or dismiss any of these responses.  John “simply reports them and then goes on to show how in every case skepticism, fear, and doubt are overcome by the presence of the Risen One.”[5] I mentioned last Sunday after we read the Passion that there are many appropriate responses, including the kid we could hear yelling downstairs, and that includes all of these ones as well.  There are many ways to respond to bombshell news, even more now that Facebook has added “reactions” besides the original “like” button.  The faithful response is any response that stays in conversation with the bombshell.  Yell, if you like, even, or especially at God.  He can handle it.  Or struggle with the bombshell until you get a blessing, like Jacob and Mary Magdalene, if you prefer.  Believe and wait later for understanding, like St. Anselm and the “other disciple.”  Or pay attention and tuck away those observations until a later time, like Peter and Jesus’ mother.  This morning we have a few responses to this good bombshell news that we will do together as our worship service continues.  I pray that at least one of them will speak to you, as we celebrate the bombshell that is actually Good News, that Jesus Christ is risen!  The tomb is empty!  It is not new news to most of us, yet it is earth-shaking, life-changing news that should make a difference in your life.  Jesus has defeated death and we need not fear it any longer.  Alleluia!

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[1] John 20:9

[2] Acts 10:39-43

[3] John 20:8

[4] From the “Proslogion” in Anselm of Canterbury: The Major Works, Oxford UP, 1998, p. 87

[5] http://www.umcdiscipleship.org/worship/lectionary-calendar/easter-day-year-c-2016

Journey: Confessions of a Reluctant Pastor (A Reflection)

(Written one month ago)

Oh my, what a journey we're on.  Pastoring's quite a journey, and it's not one I really expected to do.  I think at seminary, or after, I expected God to redirect my path again.  To say, okay, you got your M.Div., but you're not going to be a pastor.  You're going to do this instead.  I really didn't expect 100% to be a pastor, even during seminary.  And I wasn't ready to be a pastor, until that ten day Local Pastor Licensing School.  Boot camp.  The work you've been given to do, whether you want it or not.  I wanted to be a teacher.  I wanted to be a missionary.  I wanted to be a mother.  I never wanted to be a pastor.  Some days I still don't.  Some days, I do.

I wanted to be a mother, but I never expected a solid 24 hours of doing nothing but triage and cleaning up, like happened the weekend we all shared a 24 hour stomach bug.

I wanted to be a teacher, but I never expected the problems I had student teaching and with behavior management (partly because I didn't want to "manage" behavior in the first place).

I wanted to be a missionary, but I never dreamed that the nights when I complained to God that he could have at least sent me somewhere with air conditioning, he'd send me to pastor in Maryland.

Teaching in North Carolina
Teaching in Nicaragua
Pastoring in North Carolina
Pastoring in Maryland

Maybe I've simply come full circle and this is the answer to the prayer I didn't really mean (or only halfheartedly meant) about serving somewhere with air conditioning. Be careful what you wish for, huh? This is not what I meant, God! What about Costa Rica?  They have cooler weather and air conditioning is more common there.  Or Matagalpa, Nicaragua, in the mountains? Or... somewhere else?  Why am I needed here? I know, I know, the scandal of particularity. Still, not what I meant.  I didn't expect to become a pastor.

Yet God calls, and I answer.

Voluntourism Is Not the Same as a Mission Trip

When I shared this article http://almost.thedoctorschannel.com/14323-2/ on Facebook, it seemed to resonate with a lot of my Facebook friends, and I had credibility because they know all the mission work I have done over the years.  However, I felt the need to write about this topic from a Christian viewpoint. While I agree with most (not all) of what this author has to say about voluntourism, she is coming from a secular and humanitarian standpoint.  In my case, all of my mission trips, both domestic and international, both relief and development, including my three year commitment to serve in Nicaragua with Food for the Hungry, were because of my faith.  When you undertake a service trip because of your faith, it would seem that a few things are done differently. 

It would appear that the secular reason for doing such excursions is similar to too many Christians.  Many Christians say, “We’re going to do good because we’re Christians and we’re supposed to do good things.”  The humanitarian reason seems to be that we do good because we should help our fellow human, and so, again, we’re “supposed” to do good things.  I can’t address the secular reason; however, my congregations have repeatedly heard me address the first one.   There are lots of good things we can do because of our faith in Jesus.  Nonetheless, just because it’s a good thing doesn’t mean that God is calling us to do it.  I firmly believe that the good things we do as Christians should be the good things that God specifically calls us to do.  God doesn’t call all of us to serve regularly in a soup kitchen or to work for non-profits or to travel, domestically or internationally, on a mission trip. There are plenty of Christian organizations (I researched thirty of them before choosing Food for the Hungry) that do their good work without ever stopping to think about which good things God is calling them to do. God doesn’t call us all to the same work. 

As Paul explains in 1 Corinthians 12, God gave each of us different gifts, and we are to use those gifts to serve God.  I became a teacher because teaching is one of my gifts, and so I shared it as a school teacher, and now as a pastor. To figure out just where and how to serve, you have to find where your gifts and passions intersect with the world’s needs, to paraphrase Frederick Buechner (“The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet”).  The idea is to match your skill set with a need, and go from there.  My first international mission trip was as an interpreter (because I was studying Spanish) for a medical team, which my mom was part of because she is a nurse.  When I signed up with Food for the Hungry, we looked at Spanish-speaking fields that needed a teacher, and that’s how I ended up in Nicaragua. I taught in Nicaragua because I was a teacher in the U.S.; I hold two degrees in education.  It always greatly bothered me to meet untrained American English teachers, those who think that just because they speak English, therefore, they can teach it.  I had to submit my U.S. teaching license to get my Nicaraguan visa to show that I was a skilled worker in their country.

Perhaps when development work is approached this way, you can then avoid the grieving, bitter undercurrent in this author’s writing.  She seems to wish someone had told her that what she was spending her time and energy and money on was pointless and unhelpful to the supposed recipients.  It was almost ironic to see that her time in Uganda was included in her author profile at the end of the post. Thankfully, some Christian organizations do make it a point to make sure that what you spend your time, energy, and money on is beneficial to the host country.  As she points out, do your research and find out if the mission agency is “well-respected on the ground and is truly invested in the people or community it is there to help.”  If it’s a Christian one, I’d add to make sure that they are theologically sound, as well.  

The only way any organization can do this is by being in relationship with the host country (because otherwise how would you know what the needs are?).  When you do a mission trip because of your faith, because you believe and trust God is calling you to do this, then one of the things you know (or learn) is about the importance of relationships.  On all of my trips it’s always been stressed that one of the goals is the building of relationships, both with your teammates and with the locals.  I’ve worked alongside a homeowner helping to repair his house after Hurricane Floyd.  My college spring break mission trip to Mexico, which  was perhaps the most voluntouristic because all we did was paint a new parsonage for the local pastor, brought our team, made up of two college bible studies, together in a way that studying the Bible had not.  My sending church, who sent me to Nicaragua and later into ordained ministry, has been sending teams to Costa Rica for at least fifteen years to work with a missionary there whom we support. We’ve gotten to know him, his family, and his local church quite well over the years, and he always stops at our church when he’s State-side.

Mission trips, for me, have never been so much about being a tourist and sight-seeing as being a student and observing.  I’ve been known to ask all kinds of questions about what I see or what I’m about to eat and I often sit up front with the bus driver to get a better view of the land (and avoid motion sickness, to be perfectly honest).  I’ve always felt more like a guest than a tourist, which I suppose is related to how I approach such trips.  I am a privileged guest, not someone who knows how to do things better, because the truth is I don’t always know the best way to do things in my host context.  The three year plan for Nicaragua was to teach for two years in Nicaraguan schools, and then do teacher training the third year, since most local teachers had received limited, if any instruction in methodology.  Yet I wasn’t going to tell them how to teach until I had first taught in their classrooms. 

Finally, I really appreciate how the author distinguishes between the immediate need in relief work, in which case whoever volunteers for the job is great, and development.  Teaching people how to fish is important.  And yet the mission agency I served with went a step farther: our goal was to teach people to think about fishing, and so transform their world.  Development doesn’t go far enough, for Christians.  We don’t just want clean water for everyone, we want transformation.  We look for God’s kingdom come here, on earth, and that’s why we join in God’s work, where and how God calls us.

Fasting for Reconciliation: Feeling Grinchy

Piney Grove UMC & St. Matthew Lutheran Church

Lenten Services

March 16, 2016

Genesis 33:1-11; Acts 11:1-12; Matthew 5:21-26

            Tonight’s theme is reconciliation, and just a couple Sundays ago we heard that word also in our lectionary readings.  Our Epistle lesson two Sundays ago included 2 Corinthians 5:18, where we read “God… reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation.”  I commented on how the Good News translation of the Bible gave us a definition for reconciliation, because it worded that verse to say, “God… through Christ changed us from enemies into his friends and gave us the task of making others his friends also.”  So, reconciliation is changing from enemies into friends, and tonight we’re talking about fasting for reconciliation, so this is giving something up in order to become friends.  Have you ever done that?  It may be the friend you just don’t talk politics with, or they’re an avid Yankees fan, and so you talk about baseball in general and teams outside the American League East.  I have a good friend who doesn’t tolerate gluten and so we make sure to find restaurants that have a gluten-free menu when we go out to eat together.  I have another friend who’s vegan, and so she picks the restaurant, usually one I’ve never heard of, and, you know, I can usually find something to eat there, too.  It’s not a big deal to me, and it is to them.  I can go without meat or wheat gluten or chemicals in my food, and I won’t go hungry.  I can bite my tongue in a conversation and it’s not the end of the world. 

            In 1 Corinthians 9, Paul writes, “I am a free man, nobody's slave; but I make myself everybody's slave in order to win as many people as possible. While working with the Jews, I live like a Jew… In the same way, when working with Gentiles, I live like a Gentile… Among the weak in faith I become weak like one of them, in order to win them. So I become all things to all people, that I may save some of them by whatever means are possible.”[1]  For whatever reason, I’ve been reflecting more the past couple weeks on the mission work that I’ve done, and part of my philosophy is to adapt as much as reasonably possible to the host culture, and that’s all the more Paul is talking about here.  I mentioned last time my service in Nicaragua.  While I lived there, I lived with a host family.  I ate my main meal in the middle of the day.  I took quiet afternoons whenever possible, although didn’t often take a siesta.  I wore capris pants and sandals the most often and shorts and sneakers much less often because I wanted to blend in a little more.  While I loved getting a ride from someone who had a car, I often walked or took the bus or a taxi to get places.  And it made a difference to the locals that I lived as one of them, even though I was an American.  It made a difference in my witness.  It made a difference in their knowledge of just how committed I was to serving among them.  It made a difference that I wasn’t committed to an American lifestyle even while living in another country.

            What I think we worry about here is losing ourselves.  Is being a meat-eater a core part of my identity?  For my husband, yes.  For me, it’s small potatoes.  Did my style of dress really change that much in Nicaragua?  Not especially, because it was still me doing the shopping.  I just bought more of certain styles and less of others.  Does my identity revolve around when I eat my main meal of the day?  Not really.  My identity revolves around and is centered in being a beloved child of God.  That’s the most important part, and that part doesn’t change, no matter where I am serving.  In Maryland, I wear more sweaters and eat more fresh seafood than I did in North Carolina.  I also get to go to more Major League Baseball games.  And I LOVE the predominance of the color purple!  It’s my favorite color, and I didn’t even think twice when I bought a pair of purple pants a few months after moving here.  It didn’t occur to me until much later why the store even carried them in the first place.  Food, clothing, daily routine, these are all external factors that play a minor part in who you are, yet can play a major role in relationships. 

            What plays a factor into this choice to downplay your own personal preferences is humility, and we certainly see that in how Jacob approaches his brother, Esau, after many years of estrangement.  If you remember, Jacob and Esau are twins born to Isaac and Rebecca, and although Esau is the oldest, Jacob is the one God chooses to be part of Jesus’ lineage.  And their falling out happened when Jacob talked Esau into selling his birthright for a bowl of chili and then later tricked their father into giving Esau’s blessing to Jacob.  Isaac thought he was blessing his firstborn, yet he was mostly blind and Jacob, with his mother’s help, had covered himself in furs to pretend to be his brother, who was much hairier than him.  That story ends with Esau begging his father to bless him, also.  So, Esau has lots of good reasons to be mad at his brother and Jacob knows it.  After stealing his brother’s blessing, Jacob ran away and lived with his Uncle Laban for a time.  However, then he and his uncle play a game of tricking each other, involving Laban’s daughters, Leah and Rachel, and now Jacob needs to leave his Uncle Laban’s farm.  So, he sets out to return towards home, where he knows Esau is.  In the chapter before the passage we read tonight, Jacob sends presents and messengers on ahead to his brother, and the night before is when Jacob wrestles with an angel all night long, until the angel finally “cheats” and does something funky to Jacob’s hip.  Then we have the day of, and Jacob, who is now limping and worried about his messengers’ reports of Esau, is steeling himself to meet his brother.  He arranges his family just so, with this order of children and maids and wives.  And he went first, in front of them, “bowing himself to the ground seven times until he approached his brother.”[2] 

            You see, reconciliation, making friends out of enemies, isn’t something that just happens.  It takes work, it takes prayer, it takes thoughtfulness, it takes planning in order to maximize its chances of success.  It takes fasting, giving something up, whether it’s your pride, like in Jacob’s case, or toning down your hatred of the Yankees in order to get along with a Yankees’ fan.  In Peter’s case, as we read in Acts, it meant being willing to lay aside food laws, that God had put into place in the Old Testament, and as a good Jew, Peter had always followed.  “It was unlawful [even] for a Jew to associate with or to visit a Gentile,”[3] yet now God is saying “Do not call anything impure that God has made clean.”[4]  This sounds a little bit like last Sunday, when we read in Isaiah God saying, “Look, I am about to do a new thing!”[5]  Reconciliation is God doing a new thing.  One of the things we always have to remember is that only God can change hearts.  If there’s animosity like Jacob and Esau’s, if there are hard hearts involved, if there are deeply, deeply hurt feelings involved, then only God can heal the divide.  Perhaps this may be a good lesson for the politics in our country today.  I can’t soften your heart.  My 18 month old baby might be able to, but I can’t make anyone’s heart grow three sizes like the Grinch.  

That’s God’s work.  And that’s why we fast and pray and we turn it over to God and let him do his work.  We step out of the way, refraining from putting stumbling blocks in the way of others.  Each of us can get in our own way and put enough stumbling blocks in our own path.  We don’t need help from anyone to do that. 

            And that’s why, in this snippet from the Sermon on the Mount that we read, Jesus encourages us to make friends with each other, to not stay angry with each other.  Anger may be a cute little red guy in the movie “Inside Out,” but when he takes control for too long, it gets harder to let him go.  I’ve joked recently that I need to make a playlist, or a mix tape (I’m old enough that I’ve made as many mix tapes as I have playlists), and I need to include songs like “Let It Go” and Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off.”  Those are both songs about fasting for reconciliation, believe it or not.  Shake it off, let it go, those are other ways of saying fast, refrain from dwelling on those things, don’t let yourself get stuck down in the negativity or the criticism or the anger, or whatever it is that’s bothering you.  Instead, be reconciled to yourself, be reconciled to your friend, be reconciled to God.  Don’t be at war with yourself, or your neighbor, or God.  Change from enemies into friends, find some peace, receive others with open arms, just as Esau greeted Jacob, just as the father welcomed home the prodigal son in our Gospel lesson from Sunday.  Let it go, fast from the anger, take a break from it, stop dwelling on it, and turn back to God, turn back to the way that leads to life.

            One of my best friends is a Yankees fan, and in case you haven’t gathered, I am not.  They are my least favorite team in all of baseball.  But you know, we went to a Yankees’ game together a few years ago, and we both enjoyed it.  We both love baseball, it was each of our first and only time at Yankee Stadium.  I liked the game because the Yankees were losing for the first seven innings.  My friend liked the game because the Yankees came from behind and won the game.  It’s fasting to stay friends.  Fasting for reconciliation.  Giving something up, in order to turn from enemies into friends, or to stay friends and not become enemies.  May God give each of us the grace to shake off whatever we need to shake off, to turn to him when our hearts are hard, and to welcome with open arms those with whom we’ve argued.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

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[1] 1 Corinthians 9:19-22

[2] Genesis 33:3

[3] Acts 10:28

[4] Acts 11:9

[5] Isaiah 43:19

One Fish, Two Fish, Old Fish, New Fish

5^th Sunday in Lent

March 13, 2016

Isaiah 43:16-21; Psalm 126; Philippians 3:4b-14; John 12:1-8

(Or watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uExMkoAP7JY&feature=em-upload_owner )

            I’ve shared a little bit before about my call to serve God in Nicaragua and how from there God called me back to the States and to seminary and to become a pastor.  There’s one part of that story that I rarely tell, because I tend to think it’s not as directly relevant, and I try to keep my story as short and brief as I can.  When I got sick, when the rheumatoid arthritis had inflamed so many of my joints that I was put on bedrest, my country director, Kim, was out of the country.  I’d shared with her, as had my colleagues, about how bad it was and how many people, both Nicaraguans and Americans, were advising me to return to the U.S.  But Kim hadn’t seen me or talked with me in person yet.  And it wasn’t that she was doubting the severity of the disease, it was that simply having an illness doesn’t necessarily mean you pack your bags up and move.  Many missionaries stay in the mission field with a variety of diseases.  The difference for me was that through the arthritis, God was calling me to leave Nicaragua and return home.  The difference was God speaking this verse we read in Isaiah to me, “Look!  I’m doing a new thing!”[1] Before approving my early departure, Kim asked me to meet with Joel, a fellow American missionary, although serving with a different mission agency.  Joel had also developed a chronic disease, something similar to my arthritis, I think, during his time in Nicaragua, and had stayed on and worked through it and figured out how to treat it there.  We shared our stories, and I had one question for Joel, which was to ask if in the onset of his disease God had told him he was about to do a new thing.  Joel said no.  And that was the difference for me.  I didn’t end my time in Nicaragua early because folks advised me to, or because I could get better health care in the U.S.  I left before my contract ended because God said he was about to do a new thing, and when I asked God, are you sure, and I set out three fleece tests, just like Gideon did in the Old Testament book of Judges, God answered all three of them.  The scariest one, in hindsight, was probably the day that I prayed that if I was supposed to return to the U.S. and go to seminary, for God to make the arthritis so bad that I could hardly walk.  The very next day, the arthritis flared up in my knees so bad that it seriously hurt to walk and I spent most of the day sitting with my legs propped up and pillows under my knees.  I suppose it’s kind of a ‘be careful what you ask God for,’ but I wanted to make certain.  And when God says, “Look, I’m about to do a new thing,” he makes sure he has your attention and when you ask for assurance, he will give it to you. 

            When God originally spoke this word through Isaiah, he spoke it to a people who were being carried into exile, people being carried away from their homes by a conquering army.  God spoke this word to them to assure them that he would not forget them, that, to quote the New Testament, God would work through this awful thing for good,[2] and that a wonderful new thing was about to happen. That verse from Romans actually says, “God makes all things work together for good for those who love him.”  Even things like exile, even things like disease, even things like death, “in all things God works for good with those who love him.” God reminds his people that he is the one who can make a way in the sea, a reference to the parting of the Red Sea when the Israelites escaped Egypt.  He reminds his people that he is the one who can make a way in the desert and the wilderness, providing food, manna, and water for their survival.  He reminds his people that he made us, and he will not forsake us.  Remembering these things, God tells us, “Look, I’m doing a new thing!  Now it sprouts up, don’t you recognize it?” 

            And that’s one of the interesting things about this new thing, it’s already started.  In the Good News Bible, God says, “Watch for the new thing I am going to do. It is happening already – you can see it now!”  It is happening already, you can see it now.  There are at least a few new things happening in our midst.  If we were in a classroom instead of a sanctuary during Sunday worship, I’d probably pull out a marker and ask for examples and write them on a whiteboard.  New things are already happening in our midst, if we but pay attention. 

            Now, I do want to say a little bit about old things, because the verse before God says, “I’m about to do a new thing,” he says, “Don’t cling to events of the past or dwell on what happened long ago.”[3]  And at the same time we have this reading from the psalter about a previous time when God did a new thing, when God “changed Zion’s circumstances for the better” and restored their fortunes.[4]  So we know, God has done this before.  God did a new thing for Israel.  God did a new thing when he sent his son, Jesus Christ, into the world.  God did a new thing on the cross and in the grave, as we’ll remember and celebrate in a couple weeks.  God has done this before.  And we know that God has acted in our midst before.  God has acted here in our church, before.  God did a new thing in planting this church here.  God did a new thing in the previous ministries of this church.  God did a new thing when this church grew enough to support their own pastor.  God has done all this before.  We’ve seen him do new things before.  And yet, before God says, “I’m about to do a new thing,” God says, “Don’t ponder ancient history.”  Wait, what?

            So, here’s the thing about memory, and remembering former things. Memory can be a strength.  Knowing how we got here, remembering where we came from so that we can honor our roots and our ancestors in the faith is a good thing.  Remembering the past can help you survive.  Knowing about past mistakes can mean you don’t repeat them in the future and can lead to even greater future successes. [5]  Memory can be our reference point for interpreting events and life circumstances.[6]  Memory tells us who we are and helps us respect our past and how we got here.  However, unfortunately, memory can also be a hindrance.  You’ve heard of folks who are stuck in the past?  That happens when you continue holding on too tightly to the past.  Or perhaps people who view the past through rose-colored glasses, where they only remember the good and forget the mistakes?  Clinging too tightly to a memory can cause you to misinterpret life.[7]  If someone from the 1950’s were to show up in our congregation this morning, they’d be appalled by how many of us ladies are wearing pants, by any of us who are wearing jeans or sneakers, and by a female preacher.  They’d recognize that we’re in a church, but they might not be sure what else is going on.  “If you hold too tightly to former things, you will not be able to embrace new things.”[8]  There’s gotta be room for something new to spring up, much less flourish. 

            I remember the sermon illustration the senior pastor I served with at my previous church gave one time.  He was talking about how when he comes home from the grocery store, he wants to carry all the groceries in at one time, and so he loads up with big armfuls.  Anyone else do that?  Now, what happens when you get to your front door?  You have to put some of the groceries down in order to open it, don’t you?  You don’t usually have to put all of them down, but at least one hand has to be free to unlock and open the door.  God’s not saying forget who you are and where you came from.  God’s not saying to forget the past; he says don’t cling to it, don’t dwell on it.[9]  Keep some memories with you, and go on inside to the next thing.  There’s gotta be room for the new.  I had to leave Nicaragua to go to seminary.  In my case, I had to physically move in order for there to be room for the new thing. 

            I think we are in a season of God saying, “Look, I’m about to do a new thing!”  I think we’ve been here at least since I arrived, not quite two years ago, maybe longer.  I think God’s got our attention in a way he didn’t before, and I don’t say that to knock previous ministries or previous pastors; simply to say that we are in a different season now, a season of God on the verge of doing a new thing.  There may be things we have to move in order to make room for new things.  That’s part of why we’ve cleaned things out and are looking again at space we weren’t using.  What new thing can God do there?  What dreams and hopes do you have for those rooms?  Things aren't going back to how they used to be; y’all know as well as I do that life moves forward, and you can’t step in the same river twice.  The river keeps changing.  Life keeps changing.  Our church keeps changing.  And so as God continues to change us and mold us and shape us to be more like him, I know he also gives us hopes and dreams of what we might be, glimpses of what this church could look like, not five years down the road, but thirty years down the road.  We’re not changing for ourselves; we’re changing for the future, for future generations. 

            At the same time, we’re not completely discounting that God has been at work here in the past.  I legally changed my name when I got married, yet you’ll still see my maiden name on social media because I had a life before I got married, too, and I want folks from that life to be able to find me.  God doing a new thing doesn’t ignore or forget the old things he has done; that was the whole point of the psalm!  Rather than fixating on the old things, though, we can look at them like Paul considered his former things in the Philippians passage.  Paul remembers who he was and can boast about all these advantages and assets he had: born to the right family, upheld the law perfectly, knew the law inside and out, A student, and now considers it all as rubbish compared to knowing Jesus.  Paul knew what was important and what was not.  Today’s passage from Philippians ends with Paul writing, “It’s not that I have already reached this goal or have already been perfected, but I pursue it, so that I may grab hold of it because Christ grabbed hold of me for just this purpose. Brothers and sisters, I myself don’t think I’ve reached it, but I do this one thing: I forget about the things behind me and reach out for the things ahead of me. The goal I pursue is the prize of God’s upward call in Christ Jesus.”[10]  I don’t reach behind me; I reach for what is in front of me.  I know what’s back there, I remember what’s back there, and I know and trust and believe that God is about to do a new thing, and it’s that new thing that I reach for.  It’s that new thing that stirs my blood and gets me excited.  It’s that new thing that I want to know more about and see how God is going to act now and just what God is up to now.

---

[1] Isaiah 43:19

[2] Romans 8:28

[3] Isaiah 43:18

[4] Psalm 126:1

[5] Preaching God’s Transforming Justice, Year C, p. 161

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Ibid.

[9] GNT and CEB translations

[10] Philippians 3:12-14

Ungathered Moss

4^th Sunday in Lent

March 6, 2016

Joshua 5:9-12; Psalm 32; 2 Corinthians 5:16-21; Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

(Or watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5MKMmjU84A0&feature=em-upload_owner )

            One of the sermons that I best remember was given by a much beloved pastor of my sending church on his last Sunday.  He preached on Proverbs 1, the part where Wisdom is personified as someone who is calling out in the streets and speaking at the city gates and crying out at busy intersections.  This pastor talked about those busy intersections, and how it is your intersections with your environment, with yourself, with others, and with God that shape your life.  We are at one of those intersections  And this morning’s Scriptures are full of stories and descriptions of what happens at those intersections. 

            First, in Joshua, we find the Israelites who have just, finally, arrived in the Promised Land and are eating the first Passover meal with food produced from that land.  They have spent forty years wandering in the wilderness, being fed by manna that God provided for them.  Now, they are at the end of their nomadic life.  Moses, who got them out of slavery in Egypt and who led them in the wilderness, has died, and they have a new leader, Joshua.  Now, they have ended their exodus and crossed over the Jordan River into Canaan, the land flowing with milk and honey.  Now, they have stopped wandering and are starting to settle down, to put down roots, to farm the land.  They are at the next stage in their life as God’s people.  And listen to what God says to them, “Today I have rolled away from you the disgrace of Egypt.”[1]    Today, this is the intersection, where I rolled away from you your shame.  This is the transition point.  Leadership has changed from Moses to Joshua.  Food has changed from manna from heaven to food they gathered and harvested from the land.  Their lifestyle has changed from being wandering nomads to settled farmers.  And now God rolls away from them their disgrace at having been slaves in Egypt.  It’s a new life, a new start, a major transition point in the life of Israel. 

            Those forty years of wandering in the desert, along with Jesus’ forty days of being tempted in the wilderness, are the basis for the forty day length of the season of Lent.  The other allusion to Easter is in the word choice God made when he spoke that sentence to Israel.  “Today I have rolled away from you your disgrace.”  Because what else gets rolled away?  The stone door to Jesus’ tomb.  The Gospel of Matthew says that there was an earthquake, and then an angel came and rolled back the stone that sealed the tomb where they put Jesus’ body, and the angel sat on the stone.[2]  Just as God rolled away from you your shame, God also rolled away the stone door to the grave.  I realize we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves here and we’ve got three weeks to go until Easter, and Holy Week to experience first.  But, you know, the reason we say Lent is 40 days and not 46 days is because Sundays don’t count.  Every Sunday is like a mini-Easter, where if you’ve given up something for Lent you’re allowed to indulge, and a day, year-round, when we remember that we exist, that we have new life, that we come to church, because of Jesus’ resurrection.  God rolling away the stone is God claiming victory over death and God telling us that we don’t need to fear even the worst we can imagine.  God is not dead, because not even the powers of hell and death can hold him, and neither can they hold us.  In 1 Corinthians 15, Paul writes, “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”[3]  Talk about a life-changing transition point. 

            Our psalm this morning, curiously enough, is the passage that talks about sin.  The psalmist says that I did not acknowledge my sin, when I kept quiet about my wrongdoing, then my bones wore out and I groaned all the time.[4]  I think we have at least a couple Walking Dead fans here, and it sounds kinda like the psalm is saying you’ll act like a zombie and moan and groan and walk as if half-dead if you hide when you mess up.  The psalmist says, “My energy was sapped as if in a summer drought.”[5]  And then, I acknowledged my sin to God, and confessed what I did wrong, and God forgave me.[6]  God will forgive you, no matter what you have done.  The only unforgiveable sin is the one you don’t ask forgiveness for.  But when you do, then God will roll away from you your disgrace.  Then, you’re at another key intersection in your life, between a place of sin and a place of wisdom that comes with penitence. 

            This is the same thing we saw in our Gospel story this morning, what’s often called the parable of the prodigal son, and yet what could also be called the parable of the prodigal love of the father.  The younger son, who insulted his father by demanding his inheritance early and then ran away and wasted it, “comes to his senses,” is what we’re told, recognizes and acknowledges his fault, and goes back to seek forgiveness from his father.  The father forgives him, seemingly before the son even said anything, since he was out there, watching and waiting for his younger son to return.  He rolls away from him his disgrace.  What we don’t know about is the older son and if the older son forgives his brother.  The choices we make affect everyone and those intersections shape your life.  The older son, at least initially, stayed hurt by his brother’s betrayal of his family, and we don’t know at the end if he changed his mind.  It has the potential to be a transition point, if he so chooses. 

            Baptism is another transition point, not with stones but with water.  The drops of water roll away, wash away our disgrace and make us clean.  We read in 2 Corinthians this morning that “if anyone is in Christ, that person is part of the new creation.”[7]  “We no longer recognize people by human standards,”[8] now we look at people how God sees people.  Because of the waters of baptism, how God looks at people as his beloved children.  We look at people as our beloved brother and sister in Christ.  Sometimes we fight, sometimes we argue, ideally, we have each other’s backs and we stand up for our family.  But we know that “the old has gone, the new has come.”[9]  And because the new has come, we have to recognize people not as they once were, but as they are now.  And as they are now, is as friends of God, as the Good News translation puts it.  Other versions say reconciliation, but the Good News Bible gives a definition of reconciling, which is changing from enemies into friends.  Verses 18 and 19 read, “God, through Christ, changed us from enemies into his friends and gave us the task of making others his friends also. Our message is that God was making all human beings his friends through Christ. God did not keep an account of their sins, and he has given us the message which tells how he makes them his friends.”  Rolling away from you your disgrace is how God makes you his friend.  Baptism recognizes that God is already at work in you, rolling away from you your shame.  Baptism is a key transition point, so key that in the Protestant Reformation some reformers took it so far as to insist on a “believer’s baptism,” that is, the person had to decide for themselves when they came of age if they believed.  The Methodists believe that God is already at work in your life, even before you’re baptized, something called prevenient grace, grace that comes before. Then comes justifying grace, which I think you all are familiar with, even if not by those words.  It’s saving grace, it’s being justified by grace, being made right with God through the atoning work of Jesus Christ on the cross.  The last one is the one where we become more like Christ, and that’s sanctifying grace.  This is the sustaining grace as “we continue to grow in the likeness and image of Christ through the perfecting work of the Holy Spirit.”  You see, we never stop growing.  God is never done with you.  You may at times feel that you are done with God, or need a time-out, but God is never done with you.  “Sanctifying grace is where we figure out that it’s not ‘all about me’ and begin to participate in God’s redemption in the world.”

Now, we are at an intersection of figuring out that it’s not all about me, that church isn’t all about me, that church isn’t even all about our local church.  We have some growing pains going on, because change, even good change, is still change and still different and still painful.  Pruning hurts, to use a Biblical metaphor.  You trim a bush back so that it grows better, God trims you back, so that you grow better like him.  And it’s cutting something off, and even if the piece cut off was unhealthy, it’s still cutting, and it still hurts.  And even pruning for a good reason, so that new fruit and new leaves can grow, it still hurts.  We are in the midst of these growing pains.  We're at a transition point, and we don't know how long it will last.  We're in God's hands, and his timing is not ours.  Let us pray... 

---

[1] Joshua 5:9

[2] Matthew 28:2

[3] 1 Corinthians 15:55-57

[4] Psalm 32:3

[5] Psalm 32:4

[6] Psalm 32:5

[7] 2 Corinthians 5:17

[8] 2 Corinthians 5:16

[9] 2 Corinthians 5:17

Can you repeat that?

3^rd Sunday in Lent

February 28, 2016

Isaiah 55:1-9

(Or watch or listen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XVbd34ITRFs&feature=em-upload_owner )

            There is so much noise in our world today.  I don’t know if you’ve noticed.  Television, telephones, traffic, music, children chattering incessantly about pink mini wheats.  It was ironic, I was watching a promo video for a Christian video organization and they commented on how the world is busy and noisy, and then they showed a screen to promote their company which had nothing but screens, tablets and smart phones, that just screamed busy and noisy.  It’s almost as if we don’t know how to get away from it.  We don’t know how to turn off the TV, put down the phone, and just be in the quiet.  Well, I found some place quiet last week.  AJ woke up from his nap just when Isabel was going down for hers, so I had to get him out of the house in order for Isabel to sleep.  We went over to Marshy Point Nature Center; I’m sure most of you have been there.  The driveway is long enough, you can’t hear the traffic on Eastern Avenue.  It’s right up on the water, which was fantastic.  Other than AJ’s excitement about the water, it was quiet.  And you know what you can do really well when it’s quiet?  Listen.  Tucked in to this great passage from Isaiah with the invitation for all who are thirsty to come to the water and the end about how God’s ways are not our ways, in the middle of that, in verse 3, God says, “Listen, so that you may live.”  Listen, so that you may live.  Who would have thought that the key to living is listening?  The problem is we don’t see it modeled for us very many places, and there are a lot of things that keep us from listening. 

            One of the biggest problems, of course, is when you can’t understand the speaker.  They may be talking too fast, like I know I do sometimes.  The person may have an accent that you’re not accustomed to and so pronounce words differently.  Or it may be words that you don’t know, whether another language, or just highly technical vocabulary. I asked my husband for an example from his work, and said that one of the tools he uses for work is called a colorimetric testing apparatus used for volumetric precision verification of the liquid handling arm of Tecan’s laboratory automation systems, or as he calls it, a QC kit.   Or what’s preventing you from listening well could be a poor connection, where there’s just too much static or background noise to be able to understand what you’re hearing.  There are lots of external factors that play a part in being able to listen well.  This has been one of the problems with the rise of emails and texting.  Unless you know the recipient really well, you have to be a little extra careful when choosing your words, because inflection, tone of voice, and other clues we use to understand what is being communicated don’t come through, so you can’t always tell what is a joke and what is sarcasm and what is someone really upset.  Some things that keep us from listening are outside our control, and we simply do the best we can in spite of those things. 

            Other things that keep us from listening, though, are our own fault.  These have to do with what we’re thinking while we’re listening.  The best listening is listening that focuses on the speaker.  Unfortunately, it’s human nature to focus on ourselves.  Many times, especially today, we’re not doing a great job of listening because we’re thinking of our response to what we’re hearing.  We’re thinking of our own opinion on the topic, our own wants, our own fears, we’re thinking about ourselves and how is this going to affect me.  Too often, we’re not focused on the speaker and what they’re saying, we’re focused on ourselves and our reaction and what we’re going to say when the person finally stops speaking and it’s our turn to stop listening and start speaking.  Sometimes we’re so focused on our response that we interrupt the other person, we can’t bear to listen anymore! 

You know, we look forward to our turn to speak, we wait for our turn to talk; how often do we look forward to, and wait expectantly for, our turn to listen?  Both have to happen in any conversation, in any relationship.  So, perhaps we ought to give them at least equal weight, if not more emphasis on the listening, since apparently it’s the listening part that gives life, not the speaking part.  Listen, and you will live.[1]  Listen, and you will find life.[2]  There are times when God commands his prophets to speak, when God compels people to speak up, like Moses, who goes to Pharaoh to say, “Let my people go!”  Or the prophet Jeremiah, who complains that if he tries to hold back and not speak what God’s commanded him to speak, then it feels like a fire in his bones.[3]  Yet I can’t think of anywhere where death will occur as a result of not speaking.  The book of James says, “Be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger.”[4]  Here, through the prophet Isaiah, God says, “Listen and come to me; listen, and you will live.”  Listen, and you will live.

            This is a different kind of listening.  This isn’t listening in order to respond or to share your own opinion on the matter.  This is listening with a different purpose. This listening is done in order to live.  This listening is to understand the speaker.  And it’s part of loving the speaker.  Jesus tell us to love our neighbor as ourselves.  We certainly listen to ourselves, don’t we?  Do you listen to your neighbor as well?  It can be a hard skill to practice.  Just as speaking well is a skill, so is listening well.  Listen for understanding, not in order to prove that you are right, or to prove any other point at all.  You know, when we’re anxious or worried about something, we don’t listen well.  Have you ever asked someone to call back later, or tell you later, because you’ve got too much going on, you can’t listen to them right now?  Or, have you ever had something told to you, or asked of you, and you weren’t completely paying attention, and then it came up later, and you don’t remember any of it, or the details are different than what you thought, or you just knew of it, but not any of the details?  We don’t listen well when we’re preoccupied.  Instead, when we practice good listening, we do it carefully and deeply, listening with curiosity and compassion, we have a desire to understand and to connect.  That’s listening to live.  And we can’t do it when we’re overwhelmed, we can’t do it when we’re focused on ourselves, we can’t do it when we’re thinking about what we’re going to say as soon as we get a turn.  “Deep, careful listening with curiosity and compassion, a desire to understand and connect,”[5] that’s the way to listen that leads to life. 

            Listening is so important because it speaks to one of our deepest needs, to be, or to feel, understood.[6]  That someone else knows what you’re going through and has compassion; that other person has to listen in order for that to happen.  Quite often we focus it on us, for others to understand us.  Today, let’s put the shoe on the other foot and focus on understanding others, where they’re coming, what their needs and heartfelt desires are.  Listening acknowledges and honors the uniqueness of each one of us, regardless of whether we agree, regardless of what we think of the other person’s situation or lifestyle choices.[7]  Listening is a way to love.  The heart of good listening is authenticity, genuine curiosity, and caring.[8]  If you don’t know that your listener cares, then you’re not likely to feel understood.  So, as listeners, care for the person you’re listening to.  We could add to the Hebrews passage about entertaining angels unawares by saying, “Don’t neglect to open up your homes [or your hearts, or your ears] to guests, because by doing this some have been hosts to angels without knowing it.”[9]

            Relationships are speaking and listening.  We focus a lot on our turn to speak; let’s start putting more focus on our turn to listen.  Listen with your heart, listen with empathy, acknowledge the other person’s feelings.[10]  This is something I’ve started doing with Isabel when she gets upset, because she doesn’t even always know why she gets upset and she hasn’t learned the names yet for all of her feelings.  So instead of reacting to her outburst with an outburst of my own, when I can, I wrap my arms around her and I tell her that I know she’s feeling frustrated, or sad, or whatever the emotion is that I can best name as accurately as possible, and I give her the reason for the emotion, too.  “I know you’re sad because your TV show is over and you want to watch it more.”  “I know you’re frustrated because you want to play with that toy and your brother’s playing with it.”  More often than not, naming the emotion and the reason she’s feeling it calms her down and then she can move on to the next activity.  Now, with an adult, we might rephrase it a bit more gently.  “It sounds like you’re feeling sad because this happened.”  Or, “You’re really frustrated about this situation, aren’t you?”  Even as adults, we can’t always name our feelings or the reasons for them.  If someone is unreasonably upset, we might be able to gently point that out to them, as well, or the damage their words may be causing. 

As good listeners and people who love our neighbors, it’s one way we can show each other love and build each other up.  Because that’s why we’re in relationship with each other, we listen not just so we individually might live, but we help each other live, as well.  And helping each other live means doing things, like listening, that bring us together.  If you’ve ever noticed, listening so that you can respond tends to divide people.  Sharing your opinion without listening to others’ tends to bring us all down.  Listening to understand, though, can bring us together.  It’s part of how we build each other up, how we build up our church.  Speaking ill of others, and listening to other people badmouth others, brings us all down.  So, as a listener, when it’s your turn, you may want to gently point this out to the speaker.  Let’s bring each other up.  Let’s unite and not divide.  Let’s listen to each other.

---

[1] Isaiah 55:3, CEB

[2] Ibid., NLT

[3] Jeremiah 20:9

[4] James 1:19

[5] Where Angels Dare to Dance: Anxiety and Conflict in Congregational Life, by Dr. W. Craig Gilliam, p. 24

[6] Engage Conflict Well by JustPeace, p. 3

[7] Ibid.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Hebrews 13:2

[10] Engage Conflict Well by JustPeace, p. 3