Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Hope and the Least of These/Keep the Candle Burning

19th Sunday after Pentecost
September 25, 2016
Jeremiah 32:1-3a, 6-15; 1 Timothy 6:6-19; Luke 16:19-31

            Last week we talked a little about losing your religion. This week I want to talk about hope. Have you ever lost hope? Have you lost hope recently? How do you keep the candle burning? How do you keep from losing hope? With the news stories today, with more unarmed people being shot by police, with more riots and more protests, how do you stay hopeful?
As we continue with Jeremiah’s story today, he does something pretty outlandish. If you remember from last week, he’s prophesying to a people who know they are about to be conquered by Babylon. In fact, it’s gotten to the point where Babylon is now surrounding Jerusalem, the capital of Judah. The end is in sight. It’s just a matter of time. Jeremiah himself is in prison in the palace. This does not look good. Yet what does God tell Jeremiah? God doesn’t tell him to hold on or keep praying or keep the faith. God doesn’t tell him to rant and rave and yell at his enemies. God tells him to do something very specific, to buy his cousin’s field. Judah is occupied by Babylon, they are about to be conquered, the capital city and the palace are surrounded, and God tells Jeremiah to buy a field in Anathoth, a city that neighbors Jerusalem. It is likely already under Babylonian control. Yet that’s the land God tells Jeremiah to purchase, occupied land that Jeremiah may never even set foot on. And Jeremiah buys it. He does what God tells him to do. He buys this field that he never expects to be able to see, much less use. And the prophecy that goes along with it, the word of the Lord through the prophet Jeremiah, “Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, Take these documents, this sealed deed of purchase along with the unsealed one, and put them into a clay jar so they will last a long time. For thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: Houses and fields and vineyards will again be bought in this land.”[1] Yes, destruction and exile are imminent. Yes, life as you know it is about to change drastically. However, that is not the end of the story. The purchase of this field is a promise that God’s people will again return to this land. Yes, the Babylonians are about to take over. Yet God’s people can hold out hope in this promise that one day the exile will end and they will return to their homes. Now, we know from our perspective that this exile only lasted around 50 years or so. We know this, having the benefit of hindsight, but God’s people didn’t know that going in to it, and they needed a sign of hope that destruction and exile would not last forever. At their worst moment, they needed hope.
            We also find hope in our reading from 1 Timothy. Paul tells Timothy to “Tell people who are rich in the things of this life not to be proud and not to place their hope on their finances, which are uncertain. Instead, they need to hope in God, who generously gives us everything” we need.[2] Don’t put your hope in your money, in your possessions, in your material wealth. It’s uncertain; we can’t count on it. I think that’s a lesson we’ve learned well in recent years with the recessions. Money is unreliable; it will not keep you safe. Instead, put your hope in God. Put your hope in your creator, the one who made you and cares for you and loves you, unconditionally. Put your hope in God, who generously provides for you. God is steady and faithful and certain. This is all that faith is. Hebrews 11:1 says “To have faith is to be sure of the things we hope for, to be certain of the things we cannot see.” Put your hope in God. Have faith in God. Trust God. The present feeling of overwhelmingness and uncertainty and chaos and division will pass. It is not the end of the story. Put your hope, keep your hope, in God.
            Along with these readings from Jeremiah and 1 Timothy, we have this parable in Luke about Lazarus and the rich man. It’s a parable that Jesus tells to the Pharisees, who are described as “lovers of money.”[3] The disciples are probably overhearing this parable, but it’s primarily told to the Pharisees. We didn’t read the introduction to it, where Jesus tells the Pharisees, “You are the ones who make yourselves look right in other people's sight, but God knows your hearts.”[4] In other words, the Pharisees are the group who make sure that their outward appearance is perfect and righteous and blameless. They make sure people know when they’re fasting or praying or putting money in the offering. They want everyone else to know that they are good Jews. Yet Jesus says, God knows you really love money, even if you’d deny it, and he tells them this parable about a rich man, who doesn’t have a name, and a poor man, named Lazarus. Now, I want to be clear that the rich man’s sin wasn’t being rich. Where he messed up was in not using his wealth to help the poor, to help Lazarus. This rich man didn’t even notice the poor man sitting outside his gate, much less offer him a few crumbs, the leftovers, from his table. He did nothing to help out his neighbor, who was in desperate need.
            Lazarus would certainly qualify in that phrase, “the least of these” that Jesus uses in the Gospel of Matthew. In Matthew 25, Jesus describes feeding the hungry, welcoming the stranger, clothing the naked, taking care of the sick, and visiting those who are in prison. Then Jesus says, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these, who are members of my family, you did it to me.” And you know what difference those actions make? When you feed someone who’s hungry, when you welcome someone you don’t know, when you clothe someone who’s naked, you offer them hope. When you’re down on your luck and someone does something kind for you, it gives you hope. It reminds you that being down on your luck is not the end of the story. And that’s why Jesus came. In the beginning of Luke, when Jesus first begins his ministry, he quotes from Isaiah to say, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”[5] And then he says, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”[6] That’s what Jesus’ work is, to bring good news to the least of these, to bring hope to those who don’t have a lot of hope.
            Now, there are two ways we can approach this.[7] One is to ask who are the least, the last, and the lost? Who are the poor? Who are those who are on the margins of society? Who’s like Lazarus and left out? And how are we reaching out and offering hope to them? What are we doing to join Jesus in his work of bringing hope to a hurting world? Streets of Hope starts up again in a few weeks. I challenged y’all last year for 100% participation in this ministry for homeless men. I don’t know exactly, because people who prayed didn’t tell me about it, they weren’t a Pharisee to make sure others knew they were doing good things, but assuming most of y’all prayed, then I think we hit pretty close to 100%.
Cowenton: I know we had more folks involved in supplying and bringing the meals, and at least once we had too much food!
I’m going to challenge you again for this season to somehow participate in that outreach. I don’t know if Patrick shared with you when he was here in August about the name Streets of Hope. If I’m repeating, I apologize. “The purpose of Churches for Streets of Hope is to mobilize Southeast Baltimore County to work together in Christ-centered mission for the relief of our area's poor, distressed, and underprivileged so that they can spark hope in our community.”[8] The purpose of Streets of Hope is to spark hope in our community. How do you spark hope for the least of these? Have you noticed the homeless man standing on the street corner right here, at Pulaski and Ebenezer? Noticing him is the first step. Have you helped him? His sign says that a fire took everything; talk about not putting your hope in material wealth! Put your hope in God, and offer hope to the least, the last, and the lost as well.
            The other way to look at those without a lot of hope is to include ourselves in that group. When have you felt hopeless? When have you felt like an outsider? When have you felt put down, or like you were not enough? Have there been times when you’ve been the one who’s sick or in prison or hungry or lonely or in need of one of life’s basic necessities? Think for a moment about what that feeling was like, and then about what gave you hope. A time when you were new, or when no one was listening to you, or when you were isolated, what gave you hope? I’m assuming you didn’t go out a buy a field! Did someone call or visit you? Did you receive a letter? Did you play with your kids or grandkids? Did you pet your dog or cat? Did you go work in your garden? Did you come to church?
            There are two questions here, really. How do we reach out and offer hope to the poor and outcast? How do we offer hope and hold on to hope ourselves? We know that we don’t put our hope in our stuff or in our finances, because it won’t last. We put our hope in the one triune, eternal God. Romans 5 reminds us that when we hope in God, we are never disappointed. A new bible translation puts that passage as, “We also celebrate in seasons of suffering because we know that when we suffer we develop endurance, which shapes our characters. When our characters are refined, we learn what it means to hope and anticipate God’s goodness. And hope will never fail to satisfy our deepest need because the Holy Spirit that was given to us has flooded our hearts with God’s love.”[9] As we endure times of hardship, times when we are the least of these, we develop character and we learn what it means to hope. We learn how to keep the candle burning. “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.” Hope in God, not in your stuff. Relax your hand a little and hold a little less tightly on to your possessions. Instead, use what you have, use what God has given you, to offer hope to God’s world. Proclaim the good news that the Spirit of the Lord is upon us to offer hope to those who are hurting. It may be yourself, it may be a neighbor, or it may be a complete stranger, offer hope. Spark hope. Buy a field if you have to. Give away your leftovers if that’s all you feel you can do. Join God in this work of bringing hope to those who do not have it.



[1] Jeremiah 32:14-15, mix of NRSV and CEB
[2] 1 Timothy 6:17, mix of CEB and GNT
[3] Luke 16:14
[4] Luke 16:15
[5] Luke 4:18-19
[6] Luke 4:21
[7] Disciple: Becoming Disciples through Bible Study, Study Manual, 2nd ed., 1993, p. 158-9
[9] Romans 5:3-5, VOICE

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

What Balm?

18th Sunday after Pentecost
September 18, 2016
Jeremiah 8:18-9:1; Psalm 4; 1 Timothy 2:1-7; Luke 16:1-13

(Or watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nY41MBxfJxM )

            If I were to ask you out of the blue, what’s a balm, would you be able to answer? I think the place the word gets used the most often these days is talking about lip balm, which we often use interchangeably with Chapstick or lip gloss. So, what is a balm? What comes to mind when you hear that word? A related word is balmy, which makes me think of a weather forecast, you know, it’s going to be a balmy 82 degrees on Saturday. Usually it means the weather will be nice and warm and sunny. If you look it up, balmy means mild, refreshing, soft, and soothing.[1] And so a balm is something like a cream or an ointment that refreshes and soothes. It’s anything that heals, soothes, or alleviates pain.[2] It can be medicine or a heating pad or a phone call from a good friend. A balm is something that helps heal, that helps take away the pain.
            We hear that word this morning in our Jeremiah reading. The prophet Jeremiah lived during the 7th century B.C. If you remember your biblical history and the kings Saul, David, and Solomon, they were kings over Israel. However, after Solomon died, the country split in two: the northern kingdom was still called Israel; the southern kingdom became Judah. Israel was conquered by Assyria around the year 721 B.C., leaving just Judah, who was smaller and weaker. Jeremiah prophesied in Judah, after Israel fell and before Judah fell. Yet the writing was on the wall that it wouldn’t be long before Judah was conquered by Babylon, which happened in the year 586 B.C. And so Jeremiah cries out for his people, “Is there no balm in Gilead? Are there no doctors there? Why, then, have my people not been healed?”[3] Now, the other thing you need to know about this verse is about Gilead. It was the name of “a region east of the Jordan [River, the same Jordan River where Jesus was baptized, that was] famous for plants that were used for medicinal purposes.”[4] So, we have medicine, we have a balm, and we have a people who are hurting. That’s why Jeremiah asks, “Why, then, have my people not been restored to health?”[5]
            What do you do when you’ve tried all the medicine and there’s no healing? What do you do when the wound stays open? It’s easy to give up hope. I called my best friend from college, who’s a surgeon, to get a medical perspective. She said you keep the treatment going. The first goal is to get rid of all of the infection. Once you do that and the wound is clean, but still not healing on its own, then you go after the source of the wound. You figure out what’s causing it and address the root of the problem. If, after doing that, the wound still won’t close on its own, then you operate and make it close with a skin graft or stitches or whatever’s appropriate. However, my friend did acknowledge that sometimes it doesn’t help to find the source of the wound, and she gave the example of a pressure ulcer. She said it’s like you have a patient who’s a paraplegic and has bed sores. Those bed sores are pressure ulcers because the person is putting pressure on the wound, creating the ulcer. You know what’s causing the sores, but you can’t prevent them because the person is paralyzed from the waist down. All you can do is keep turning the person so that they lie on different sides and not always on the same one, aggravating the sores. The best you can do is keep the person comfortable, because you can’t completely get rid of the pressure ulcer. You can’t completely keep them from putting pressure on that sore, and so the wound stays open. That’s the science behind it. However, we are also people of faith, and so through whatever happens and whatever pain, we stay faithful.  Now, what it means to keep the faith and not lose your religion is going to look different for different people.
Jeremiah’s faithful response to his people not being healed was to lament. We hear it in the passage we read today, “No healing, only grief; my heart is broken. Listen to the weeping of my people all across the land: ‘Isn’t the Lord in Zion?’”[6] I could probably preach a whole sermon on lamenting, and maybe I will one day. “A lament is a repeated cry of pain, rage, sorrow, and grief” that comes out of suffering and a feeling of alienation.[7] It is a prayer to God that lets us express our anger and frustration that life is not how it should be and yet this kind of prayer also helps us “hold on to the compassion of God in the midst of [our] suffering.”[8] It is “hope that the way things are just now is not the way they always will be,” because the one who prays a lament truly “believes that God has the power to rescue and redeem.”[9] That’s the whole point of a lament. It’s a faithful response to pain and suffering because it turns to God. And it cries out to God, expecting and trusting and knowing that God has the power to heal. Isn’t there a balm in Gilead? Yes, we know there is. Isn’t the Lord in Zion? Yes, we know God is. Isn’t the Lord here? Yes, we know God is here. So, “why then have my people not been restored to health?” How come, God? What’s going on, God? It’s not fair, God. God, you can heal us, and only you. And we will wait until that time when God acts.
There’s an acronym I learned some years ago, so long ago that I can’t even remember when and where I picked it up. It’s PUSH. Has anyone heard of it? It stands for Pray Until Something Happens. You keep praying, you keep crying out to God, you keep going, for as long as it takes. You push through whatever setbacks and problems and mistakes and frustrations and confusion until you receive God’s blessing. It’s not unlike Jacob wrestling with that angel in Genesis.[10] Jacob wrestled with that angel all night long and would not let go until the angel blessed him. The angel asked Jacob to give up, but Jacob would not do it until the angel blessed him. You pray. You push through. You don’t give up. You don’t lose your faith. And we read in 1 Timothy this morning that we are to pray for all people.[11] So if you’re not in this position of lamenting and wrestling for yourself, pray and lament for those who are. Pray for a friend, pray for a relative, pray for a leader, cry out to God on behalf of those who are hurting. Why, O Lord? How long, O Lord? And encourage those who are hurting to cry out themselves. Each of us needs to struggle with God, and when we’re at a point when we can’t, then we need others to share our burdens, and cry out to God for us. Keep praying. Whatever form that prayer takes, you don’t actually have to be on your knees with your eyes closed and your hands clasped. You can pray on a walk. You can pray while throwing a bouncy ball at a wall as hard as you can.  It’s important that you keep praying, that you keep the conversation with God going, because you know what? God weeps and laments with you.
We believe the Bible is the Word of God, which means these are actually God’s lamentations, too. God weeps for God’s people. You remember the shortest verse in the Bible? “Jesus wept.”[12] Do you remember the context? Jesus’ friend, Lazarus, had died. Jesus knew Lazarus had been sick, and Jesus knew he was going to bring Lazarus back to life. Yet in the middle there, after Lazarus’ death and before Lazarus’ resurrection, Jesus weeps. Jesus is the balm in Gilead, he is the great physician, and he is the one who weeps for the wounds of his people. That is the last verse we read this morning from Jeremiah, “If only my head were a spring of water, and my eyes a fountain of tears, I would weep day and night for the wounds of my people.”[13]
We live in this in-between time, like after Lazarus’ death and before his resurrection. It’s the already/not yet of God’s kingdom. Jesus has come, and ushered in God’s kingdom, and yet it’s not fully here yet. We know things are not as they should be, and yet we know there is a balm, there is a cure. I know we get impatient waiting. I know we get impatient waiting for God’s kingdom to be here on earth as it is in heaven. I know we get impatient waiting for the Great Physician to heal. We know there is a balm, and yet we don’t always feel the relief from it. At our district clergy gathering this past week, when we celebrated communion our interim DS, Rev. DeLong, added a few words to the last supper part. He said as Jesus and his disciples were eating, Jesus told them, “I am everything you have hoped for.” Jesus is everything you have hoped for. He is the Messiah, the Redeemer, the one come to make the world whole again, the one come to make us whole again. And so we wait, and we look forward to that time when that happens, much like waiting during Advent for Christmas to arrive. As we read in Luke this morning, stay faithful until that time. As we’ll sing in our last hymn, while you wait, share Jesus’ love. Be expectant of healing to come. We are people of the resurrection. Thanks be to God. Amen.




[3] Jeremiah 8:22
[5] 8:22b, CEB
[6] Jeremiah 8:18-19a, CEB
[7] John Swinton, Raging with Compassion: Pastoral Responses to the Problem of Evil, p. 104
[8] Ibid., p. 105
[9] Ibid.
[10] Genesis 32:22-32
[11] 1 Timothy 2:1
[12] John 11:35, GNT
[13] Jeremiah 9:1, CEB

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

Grace Greater than Our Sin

17th Sunday after Pentecost
September 11, 2016
Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28; Psalm 14; 1 Timothy 1:12-17; Luke 15:1-10


            I don’t know about your family vacations, but in my family growing up, even when we went on vacation, we still had to go to church on Sunday. We went to church at the beach. If we were visiting relatives, we went to our relatives’ church. One Sunday stands out in particular, for the sermon. It was a United Methodist Church in the mountains of North Carolina and it must have been July or August because the pastor was new and new appointments always begin July 1. This pastor had decided to start at his new church with a sermon series on what he believed. Just lay it out, so that the congregation was clear on it and also reminded of our beliefs as Christians. The particular Sunday we were in town, his sermon was on sin and he began by saying, “I believe in sin.” It was an attention getter, and it’s why I’ve remembered it 20 years later. Sin does exist, sin is real. As Paul writes in Romans, “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”[1] We are not perfect. And so God sent Jesus into the world, to save us from our sin and make us right with God. Why do we need saving? Why do we need Jesus? Because we’re really good at doing the wrong thing. We are good at saying the wrong thing. We are good at keeping silent when we ought to speak. We are good at jumping to conclusions. We are good at being suspicious. We are good at not trusting. We are good at poor communication. We are good at focusing on ourselves. We are good at ignoring and not helping our neighbor. Through the prophet Jeremiah, God says, “My people… are experts at doing what is evil.”[2] And that’s a pretty fair description of human nature. We’re good at messing up.
            We’re usually especially good at our favorite sins. Which sin are you an expert on? Or which one have you rationalized to yourself that you don’t really need to change your ways? Are you often jealous, and say well, at least I’m not like that? Do you have a quick temper, and say, well, something’s got to be done, you can forgive me later? Do you hoard and not share what you have by saying, I have to make sure I have enough and look out for number one first? That fear of scarcity is how we justify all kinds of things. I only have so much love. I only have so much time. I only have so much money. God, I can’t love anyone else. God, I can’t give you more time. God, I can’t give you more, because then I won’t have enough.
And this is who the psalmist calls a fool, “Fools say in their hearts, ‘There is no God.’”[3] Another way of saying that we are good at living without God, or living as if God didn’t exist. A seminary professor I knew reportedly said that most American Christians today are “functional atheists,” as in, we live and act as if we don’t believe in God.[4] We don’t rely on God. We don’t talk to God, except maybe when we need something. We live as if it makes no difference that God raised Jesus from the dead. We live as if the most life-changing day was September 11, 2001, instead of the very first Easter morning two thousand years ago when Jesus was resurrected and defeated death and evil and sin once and for all. 9/11 is certainly the day the world changed in my lifetime. But the single day that makes the biggest difference in my life was not about destruction and chaos; it was about resurrection and new life.
We, like Paul wrote to Timothy, often act in unbelief.[5] We act as if we don’t have faith. We act as if we can handle this all by ourselves, thank you very much. We tend to believe more in the myth of self-sufficiency than in the truth of Jesus Christ. We, like Paul, are the chief of sinners.[6] We are fools when we act as if our faith makes no difference in our lives. The biggest problem is that it means we don’t need Jesus, and we are either hopelessly lost, or else we have to save ourselves. One of my favorite stories of 9/11 was how the first responders from the neighboring boroughs and suburbs went to New York immediately to go help. New York was not left to save itself. My mom’s cousin, who was an EMT in northern New Jersey, once shared how just about everyone called in sick to work that day and went to go help in New York. Their first thought wasn’t for themselves, it was for those who were hurting and in need. Yes, they went with protective gear and were trained in how to respond in emergency situations, but their training and their equipment isn’t only to save themselves, it’s to save others as well.
When we believe in self-sufficiency, then we are responsible for saving ourselves. When we believe in Jesus Christ, then he does the saving and we work with him in his work of saving the world. When we are part of God’s family, then we are our brothers’ keepers.[7]             And when we remember this, when we act as if Christ’s death and resurrection make all the difference in the world, when we turn back towards God and look at God and not at ourselves, well, Jesus says the angels rejoice and joy breaks out in heaven.[8] We are good at messing up. We are good at doing the wrong thing. But Jesus. “Christ came to the world to save sinners,” and that includes me, and that includes you. If you don’t think you mess up, then you don’t need Jesus. And I don’t know about you, but I mess up on a daily basis. I was reading a pastor’s memoir who explained that she meets with potential new church members, she tells them that at some point she is going to mess up and the church will let them down and she’d like them to decide now whether or not they’re going to stay when that disappointment happens. It’s too late for me to do that with y’all, but it’s a practice I may adopt for the next church I serve. I will, at some point, disappoint you, if I haven’t already. The church will, at some point, or multiple points, disappoint you. Some people leave when that happens. This pastor tells her potential new members, though, that if they leave, “they will miss the way that God’s grace comes in and fills in the cracks left behind by our brokenness. And that’s too beautiful to miss.”[9] All of us are good at messing up. And Christ died to save all of us. He shows us mercy when we act in ignorance or without faith. Thank God.
One other sin we’re good at is judging other people’s sins. Yet in the parables of the lost coin and the lost sheep, Jesus offers no reason why they were lost. He does not say what kinds of sins the person committed before turning their life around and changing their heart and their life. We know that Jesus often hung out with those who were considered the “worst” sinners, the prostitutes, the cheating bankers, I mean tax collectors, the drug dealers, the divorced, those whose sins were not socially acceptable. And yet what we hear with the lost sheep and the lost coin is that it doesn’t matter why they were lost, the shepherd and the woman still went looking for them. God still offers forgiveness. God still offers mercy. God still offers unconditional love. And if you truly accept it, then it does make a difference in how you live. Don’t live as a functional atheist. Don’t use God as vending machine, expecting to get out in equal worth what you put in. when you were baptized you marked as Christ’s own, which means the last word on your life is resurrection. It’s grace, it’s love, it’s restoration, it’s going home to heaven and never being quite comfortable here, because we’re looking for something more, which we’ll only find in heaven.
Each week, each day, we mess up. And yet Paul writes in Romans that “where sin increased, God's grace increased much more.” God’s grace is greater than our sin. Thank God. May God also grant us the strength and ability to forgive others and offer them grace when they disappoint us and sin against us. Only the first half of “forgive and forget” is biblical. We are to forgive, just as we have been forgiven. We are to offer grace, just as God offers us God’s grace. And those mess-ups become part of our story, just as they were part of Paul’s story. Paul spoke against Jesus, attacked Christians, and was proud. And Jesus showed him mercy.[10] Paul never tries to white-wash or gloss over his shortcomings. He doesn’t try to erase his previous life before Jesus blinded him on the road to Damascus. Paul doesn’t forget it or pretend it never happened. He simply thanks God for saving him, for offering him grace and mercy. Thank God for saving us, too. Thank God for offering us grace and mercy, too.



[1] Romans 3:23
[2] Jeremiah 4:22b, GNT
[3] Psalm 14:1
[4] http://tamedcynic.org/most-common-heresies/ (I couldn’t find the original Hauerwas source)
[5] 1 Timothy 1:13
[6] 1 Timothy 1:15, NKJV
[7] Genesis 4:9
[8] Luke 15:10
[9] Nadia Bolz-Weber, Accidental Saints: Finding God in All the Wrong People, p. 178
[10] 1 Timothy 1:13