Tuesday, July 23, 2019

What’s Fruit Got to Do with It?


6th Sunday after Pentecost
July 21, 2019
Amos 8:1-12


            One of my favorite things about summer is the fresh fruit and vegetables. Whether you grow it in your own garden or pick it up at the local farm stand, or even what I get at Food Lion, it is all delicious! It’s no wonder Larriland’s pick-you-own is always busy whenever you drive by! Summer fruit is typically high in water content, it’s sweet, and it’s refreshing. What’s not to love? Most English translation of our Amos passage use the phrase “summer fruit.” God shows Amos a basket of summer fruit and then asks an obvious question, “Amos, what do you see?” Amos says, “A basket of summer fruit.” If he were a teenager he would have added a “duh” on the end. And God adds what appears to be a non-sequitur, “The end has come upon my people Israel.” Okay… it’s hard to see the connection there God, but sure, we trust you. However, this is actually a word play in the original Hebrew. “Summer fruit” isn’t the literal translation from Hebrew. It’s actually “ripened fruit.” In Hebrew, the word for “ripened fruit” is a homonym for the word “end,” as in the two words sound the same but have different meanings, like the number eight and I ate a banana. That’s how God then creates the wordplay to make the connection between a basket of ripened fruit and the end for the people of Israel. Here, we read from the NIV translation, which is one of the few English translations that tries to recreate the wordplay in English. God asks Amos, “What do you see?” Amos says, “A basket of ripe fruit.” God replies, “The time is ripe for my people Israel.” There is a sense of humor in the Bible. It doesn’t always translate either to modern times or to our language, but it’s there. What happens to ripe fruit that’s not eaten? It withers, rots, and dies. So, Amos gets to prophesy God’s judgment to God’ s people. Time’s up. The end is here. The time is ripe. God will spare you no longer.
            Amos isn’t someone you often preach on, he’s considered one of the minor prophets in the Bible, so let’s start with a little background about him. Of all the prophetic books in the Bible, both major and minor, his was written first, in the 8th century BC.  Amos was originally a shepherd, taking care of sheep like some of y’all, and he was from Judah, which was in the south. If you remember some of your history of Israel, Saul was the very first king, then David, who wrote the psalms, then David’s son, Solomon. And while Solomon was a great king in many ways, like he was famous for his wisdom and he built God’s temple in Jerusalem, he also led God’s people astray in other ways, with his 700 wives and 300 concubines, many of whom worshiped other gods, and so he strayed from the one, true God. The consequence was that after Solomon died, the country was split in two, Judah in the south and Israel in the north. So, Amos is from the south, and he’s sent to the north, to prophesy in Israel. One commentary I read said that “No other biblical book emphasizes the destructiveness of God as much as Amos.”[1] And there does seem to be a lot of that in Amos. Another vision in Amos is that of a plumb line, so that Israel can see how far they’ve strayed from God. There are a total of five visions in Amos: locusts, fire, the plumb line, the ripe fruit, and, finally, the destruction of the altar. These visions all have to do with coming judgment, with God’s judgment on Israel because they’ve strayed from God and they keep messing up and they don’t realize or care that they’ve strayed. They’re not singing, like we do in the hymn “Come, Thou Found of Every Blessing,” that “Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love; here's my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above.”[2] No, the time is definitely ripe for God to do something different.
The good news I found in my seminary Old Testament notes about Amos was a comment that Amos is a prophet of repentance, not a prophet of doom. There is a theme of life throughout his book which already implies the possibility of repentance.[3] There is still hope for God’s people. They are never without hope.  God never leaves us without hope. In Amos 5:14, God says, “Seek good, and not evil, so that you may live, and the Lord God Almighty will be with you, just as you say he is.” Amos is a call to repentance, to “hate evil, love good; maintain justice in the courts,” and in the gate.[4] There is hope, but things can’t keep going how they always have been, same ol’, same ol’. The time is ripe for change. It’s the end of business as usual.
            Why is it the end? Because actions have consequences. Look at what’s going on in Israel at this time. People are trampling on the needy. That’s like kicking a dog while he’s down. People are trying to do away with the poor of the land, whereas Jesus says, “you will always have the poor with you,”[5] and he was very concerned with the poor and how we treated them and whether or not we helped them. There were “merchants who could not wait for the religious holiday to end so they could get back to fleecing the poor with their high prices for grain.”[6] I know Thanksgiving isn’t a religious holiday, but that sounds an awful lot like Black Friday shopping creeping into Thanksgiving Day. Some retailers can’t stand having to close on a holiday; some consumers can’t, either. Hello, online shopping! Not only that, these merchants are using weighted, dishonest scales, they’re inflating the prices, and they’re shortchanging their customers. What this means is that “They do not trust God to provide for their well-being and instead take every opportunity to secure more for themselves, even at the expense of others.”[7] Do you trust God, or do you feel like you’ve got to matters into your own hands to make sure you’re looked out for? And, when you take matters into your own hands, does it hurt others? Her in Amos, God’s had enough. You were supposed to take care of the widow and the orphan and the immigrant and the poor and the needy, that instruction is all throughout Scripture, both Old and New Testaments. We are called to take care of those less fortunate than ourselves, not abuse them. There was even an article in the newspaper last week with the title, “Fines, jail, debt: Court policies can punish poor.”[8] It’s about low-income people who are imprisoned for not being able to pay a fine, and then they are charged a fee for being in jail, and so their debt has just kept increasing while they’ve had no way of being able to pay it. And you can say they shouldn’t have incurred the fine in the first place, yet even so, you have to give them a chance to pay it back, not lock them up and keep charging them more fees, which, again, is like kicking a dog while they’re down.
You see, in Amos and elsewhere, there is no separation between ethics and worship.[9]  Worship and faith go hand-in-hand with ethical practice. How you live shows what you actually believe. It’s like that now-dated saying of looking at your checkbook to see where your priorities are. God says there are consequences for disregarding the poor and afflicted. When you engage in unjust practices, it affects your relationship with God. “When we cast our cares on buildings, programs, and social status, we squander and ignore the word of God revealed in the biblical text and freshly revealed to us through Christian discipleship. When we fail to love our neighbor as ourselves, when we deny shelter to the refugee, when we judge the oppressed for their oppression, when we disregard the one because we are content with the ninety-nine, we have violated God with our evil. When we are complicit with evil regimes that rend children from their parents, delight in the destruction of others, and use people as a means to build wealth and power, we have violated God with our evil.”[10] As we sang in our middle hymn, which quotes from the prophet Micah, “We are called to act with justice, we are called to love tenderly, we are called to serve one another, to walk humbly with God.”[11] That rally that happened in North Carolina last week, that was not just or loving or humble. That was racism and hatred and evil, which we promise in our baptismal vows to resist.  There was nothing just or loving or humble about it. As God’s people, we are called to renounce evil and to work for good, we are called to love God and love our neighbor, whoever our neighbor may be.  
            And so, if you have found yourself complicit with unjust systems, then the time is ripe to do something different. And you’re in good company, because God decided the time was ripe to do a new thing, too. Even “though God established covenant relationship with Israel, their repeated unjust behavior prompted God to end the relationship, compelled to do something new.”[12] And the question is asked, “What are we doing with the word God has given us today?”[13] Are we seeking good and not evil, so that we might live? Are we living into what God requires of us, “to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God”?[14] I don’t know where you are with the personal side of this, if you’re praying, if you’re giving, if you’re speaking up and asking God what else you can do.
Here’s where we are on the communal side of it. At Administrative Board this past week we updated our mission and vision statements, the descriptions of what we’re about, our goals, why we do what we do, and what our vision is for the future. We didn’t get it in this week’s bulletin but it’ll be in next week’s and in the next newsletter. It had been 20 years since it was updated, it was getting a little overripe, so coming from the Great Expectations Team we formed when I started two years ago, and edited by the Administrative Board, here’s what we wrote:
Our mission is to make disciples by gathering for worship, growing in faith and in grace, and serving in love. From our roots in Christ, we nurture our community by welcoming everyone and reaching out to all who are in need. Specifically for 2019-2020, we will focus on ministry to and with children.
Our vision is to become a thriving congregation, rooted in Christ and nourishing our community. This includes becoming financially stable, having a high participation from our congregation, being hands-on, and being noticeably active in our community.
Our values that we identified, that already exist here, I’m just naming them, are Hospitality, Outreach, Community, and Children.
Is that who we are at Lisbon? Does that resonate with you? Do you agree with what your leaders have said about us and who we are called to be? If so, what can we do to continue living into that calling?  If not, what can we do to get there?
The time is ripe. The fruit is ripe. It’s delicious, but it will go bad soon if left out. Y’all know that. I’m preaching in a farming community. So what specifically is the time ripe for you to do? What can you do about the hatred and vitriol you witness? What can you do about the divisions in our society? What can we do to help make our community more just and loving and walking humbly with God? We start with ourselves. We don’t spread hatred. We call it out when we see it. We work to bridge the divide. We keep ourselves humble and close to God. We do the loving thing. At any crossroads, there shouldn’t even be a question of what to do, because the answer is you show love. We said we welcome everyone, no exceptions. And we said we want to help all who are in need, with no conditions. Let us start this morning with prayer.


[2] UMH 400
[3] Class notes, Old Testament 12, Dr. Stephen Chapman, Duke Divinity School, January 22, 2008
[4] Amos 5:15
[5] Matthew 26:11
[6] Feasting on the Word, Year C, Volume 3, p. 246
[7] Preaching God’s Transforming Justice, Year C, p. 324
[8] By Travis Loller, AP, printed in The Baltimore Sun, July 13, 2019
[9] Class notes, Old Testament 12, Dr. Stephen Chapman, Duke Divinity School, January 22, 2008
[11] “We Are Called” by David Haas, in The Faith We Sing, #2172
[13] Ibid.
[14] Micah 6:8

Monday, July 22, 2019

Summer and Winter: A Reflection

"Summer and winter, and springtime and harvest,
Sun, moon, and stars in their courses above,
Join with all nature in manifold witness
To thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love."

Verse 2 of "Great Is Thy Faithfulness" by Thomas Chisholm

I prefer summer. I want sunshine and warm weather. I like sundresses and bare feet. Heat doesn't bother me. I don't like being cold.

Now that it is summer, my 4 (almost 5!) year old son has announced that he likes winter better. He even tried to wear sweat pants and long sleeves until I took them all out of his dresser last week. Know why he wants winter? "Because then you could play winter hockey!" Groan. The real ironic thing is that I'm pretty sure last winter he said he couldn't wait for summer, and I had to hide all his shorts so he didn't wear them in 30 degree weather. The cold does not bother him. Oh, to be a 4 year old boy, who's only experienced 5 winters and 5 summers, all of them in Maryland.

Yet Thomas Chisholm wrote that summer and winter join in witness to God's faithfulness, mercy, and love. As tied and connected as I am now to this land, to creation, to the earth; I've lived through 2 winters and am on my 3rd summer here in Lisbon. Summer is different when you witness the spring before it - planting, watering, tilling - when you witness the corn grow from what appears to be an empty field to 6 feet high. And what appears to be an empty, dormant field covered in snow during the winter then becomes covered in crops spring, summer, and fall. It's different to witness all that, to live through it, to see the changes in the land, to see the farmers at work through each season.

I've never taken as many pictures of the sky as I have since moving to Woodbine, MD. Here is one for each season:

Summer
Winter
Spring
Fall

Tuesday, July 2, 2019

Spiritual Maturity


3rd Sunday after Pentecost
June 30, 2019
2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14; Galatians 5:13-25; Luke 9:51-62

            This morning we’re going to talk about spiritual maturity. It’s one of those odd topics, like humility, where if you say you’ve got it, then you don’t actually have it. You can’t claim to be humble, because that’s bragging and not being humble. Likewise, only the spiritually immature will claim to have reached maturity. The mature know that we are all still in the process of sanctification and expect to reach it one day. But we know that we still mess up sometimes, that we still fall short, that we are never not in need of grace and forgiveness. We are still learning. We are still growing. We are still going on to perfection.
            Now, just to be clear about what we believe about this as Methodists, prevenient grace is the grace that comes before we know we need God. It’s God at work in our lives before we even recognize it as God. Justification is the saving grace, it’s what Jesus did on the cross, atoning for our sins, making us right with God. Yet the Christian life doesn’t stop there, because then we move into sanctification, the grace that sanctifies us, makes us holy, perfects us, continues to work within us to make us ever more like Jesus. Along that path you become more spiritually mature.
            While there are many descriptions of spiritual maturity, we’re going to look at what our readings today can tell us about it. Last week we read about Elijah receiving help in the form of a mentee, Elisha, someone to train to become a fellow prophet, someone to pass the mantle to, literally. After Elijah is taken up into heaven, Elisha picks up Elijah’s mantle, which is another word for cloak, strikes the water, and asks, “Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah?” and God parts the water, just like Moses at the Red Sea. However, before that, Elisha does a very mature thing. When Elijah discovers that he can’t shake Elisha, that Elisha is determined to stay with him til the very end, Elijah says, “Tell me what I may do for you, before I am taken from you.” Elisha immediately replies, “Let me inherit a double portion of your spirit.”[1] Elisha has his answer ready. He knows what he wants from his mentor. And it’s not a material possession but his faith. Our faith is what we are to pass down to the next generation. Not necessarily our church buildings or property or books or customs, but our faith. Elijah agrees, Elisha can have it, as long as he stays around and watches when Elijah is taken from him.
            What Elisha does that is so mature is that he knows he can learn from his mentor, from those who have gone before us in the faith. He knows he doesn’t have to reinvent the wheel, he doesn’t have to start from scratch. We stand on the shoulders of those who have gone before us. We read their stories and learn about them and are inspired by their lives, folks like C.S. Lewis, Mother Teresa, Oscar Romero, saints whom you’ve known here at Lisbon, saints in your family, our ancestors in the faith. We are not so presumptuous or arrogant to believe that we are so special as to be first to have a relationship with God. We are the next in line and there will be others in line after us. It’s good news that we’re not starting with a blank slate but can learn about what our ancestors did when they were troubled or struggling or sick or even how they celebrated the good times. We don’t have to copy them; you know each generation does things their own way. But we’re inspired by them, we learn from them, and we’re reminded that we’re not doing this on our own. As Hebrews says, “we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses” so that we can “run with perseverance the race that is set before us;”[2] not because our ancestors ran an identical race, but because we know they got through their life journey and we can get through ours. Elisha didn’t have an identical ministry to Elijah; they’re two different people. But Elisha was still quite obviously Elijah’s successor as the main prophet in Israel.
            Before we get to our Galatians reading, let’s jump over to our Gospel. This is one of the harder of Jesus’ teachings. There are people who want to follow him, yet Jesus at the beginning lays out the cost. “The Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” “Let the dead bury the dead.” “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” This last one is kind of curious reading it in conjunction with Elijah and Elisha because when Elijah calls Elisha, Elisha also asks to go back to say goodbye to his parents, and Elijah lets him. Yet here, Jesus says no looking back. There are people who don’t follow Jesus because they don’t want to pay the cost. They don’t want to give up their time. They don’t want to give their money. They don’t want to have to recognize that they are dependent on God and not self-sufficient or self-made. They don’t want to make any sacrifices or change how they live or where they live. The spiritually mature know the cost of discipleship and are willing to follow Jesus, anyway. They’re willing to sacrifice, when that’s what Jesus calls them to do. Sometimes we sacrifice when we’re not called to, in order to make ourselves look good. “Look what I gave up, aren’t I such a good Christian?” Mature people don’t draw attention to themselves. They’re content to let their sacrifices go unnoticed because they know Jesus notices and they know they’re following him. And they’re following him because Jesus is calling them, not in order to look good or to meet a suitor or because they don’t know what else to do with their lives. The spiritually mature don’t cheapen grace, to use Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s phrase. He wrote, in his book “The Cost of Discipleship,” that “Cheap grace is the grace we bestow on ourselves. Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession...Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.” It says “anything goes” because I’m saved. Yet John Wesley believed that you could lose your salvation. He did not believe that “once saved, always saved.” Wesley preached against backsliding, to be on your guard against it, to not take your salvation for granted, which I think some of us do. Instead, we have to be intentional about how we live, to make sure we are ever growing in our faith, going on to perfection, being sanctified, rather than taking our relationship with God for granted.
            Finally, this morning we read that great passage from Galatians that ends with the list of the fruits of the Spirit. The spiritually mature show the fruits of the Spirit. Their lives have love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. They recognize Christ has set them free, not to live for themselves and focus on their wants but free to serve and focus on others. They don’t live however they want but live disciplined lives, using the spiritual disciplines to draw them closer to Jesus, not for their own edification but trusting God to be in the process of sanctification. And it is about trust. My daily devotional this past week included this quote from Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, a Jesuit priest in the early part of last century, “Above all, trust in the slow work of God. We are quite naturally impatient in everything to reach the end without delay. We should like to skip the intermediate stages. We are impatient of being on the way to something unknown, something new. And yet it is the law of all progress that it is made by passing through some stages of instability—and that it may take a very long time. Above all, trust in the slow work of God, our loving vine-dresser.” Sanctification takes time; it’s not immediate. Those fruits of the Spirit take time to develop and mature; y’all know that. I’ve been watching the corn grow for a few months now, and it’s at different heights in different fields. We are all in different places along this journey, and your journey is not the same as someone else’s journey, yet we are all committed to walking together. We bear each other’s burdens. We help each other along the way. That’s what the spiritually mature do. We know we’re in this together. You can’t get through this life on your own. You can’t be sanctified on your own. There’s a proverb in the Bible that says, “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens the wits of another.”[3] We are here to make each other better. To learn from each other, as Elisha learned from Elijah. To hold each other accountable, so that we don’t cheapen our salvation. And to help each other cultivate those fruits of the Spirit.
            In light of the fact that we’re all in this together, the whole human family, UMCOR, the United Methodist Committee on Relief, has offered a prayer for today for all the children who are suffering at our border. When we feel frustrated and helpless, one of the things we can always do is pray. Please join me in praying.


A Prayer for Suffering Children
God of All Children Everywhere,
Our hearts are bruised when we see children suffering alone.
Our hearts are torn when we are unable to help.
Our hearts are broken when we have some complicity in the matter.
For all the times we were too busy and shooed a curious child away,
forgive us, oh God.
For all the times we failed to get down on their level and look eye to eye with a child, forgive us, oh God.
For all the times we did not share when we saw a hungry child somewhere in the world, forgive us, oh God.
For all the times we thought about calling elected officials to demand change, but did not, forgive us, oh God.
For all the times we thought that caring for the children of this world was someone else’s responsibility, forgive us, oh God.
With Your grace, heal our hearts.
With Your grace, unite us in action.
With Your grace, repair our government.
With Your grace, help us to find a way to welcome all children everywhere,
That they may know that Jesus loves them,
Not just because “the Bible tells them so,”
But because they have known Your love in real and tangible ways,
And they know that nothing, absolutely nothing, can separate them from Your love.
Amen.


[1] 2 Kings 2:9
[2] Hebrews 12:1
[3] Proverbs 27:17

Wednesday, June 12, 2019

Unity in Diversity


Pentecost Sunday
June 9, 2019
Genesis 11:1-9; Acts 2:1-21

            The first computer in my house was an Apple IIc. Anyone remember those? Or have one? You had to insert a floppy disk start-up disk just to turn it on, and then you could put in the disk for whichever app you wanted to run. This is pre-internet days, no downloads here. You had to go to Circuit City or Best Buy or your local computer store to buy the software in person. The box for “Where in the World is Carmen Sandiago?” came with a copy of the world almanac so that you could look up the clues. There was another game we had for our Apple IIc that I played a lot, the name of which I can’t remember, but one step was a cryptic message which said, after you solved it, “Variety is the spice of life.” I never thought much of that as a kid, although I had experienced much diversity having already lived in Missouri, Texas, Maryland, and overseas in Egypt by that point in my life. I think I never thought much of it, because I had lived it, because I took it as a fact of life, so why did it really need saying? And why was it put in a kid’s computer game in the 1980s? Turns out that phrase was written by the English poet William Cowper in his most famous work, “The Task,” published in 1785. “Variety’s the very spice of life, that gives it all its flavour.”  In a poem whose rambling topics include the church, pastors, and preachers, William Cowper seems to have also summed up what happened at Babel and on Pentecost. Variety is the spice of life. Diversity is needed to give flavor to life. Too often Pentecost is read as a healing of Babel, as if Babel was a problem to be solved. But as you heard me read to the children in

Babel wasn’t a punishment! That word is nowhere in the story. Instead, God’s plan was bigger than anyone had dreamed! God’s plan is still bigger than we can dream or imagine. And variety, or diversity, is not a punishment but a gift from God. Listen to the story once more, this time from a new translation called The Voice:
“There was a time when everyone on the earth spoke the very same language. As many of these people began moving from the eastern regions into the western part of Mesopotamia, they settled down on a plain in the land of Shinar. Since stone was not readily available, they discovered how to make bricks and use tar for mortar to build their structures.
“People (to each other): Come on, let’s make bricks out of mud and bake them in the fire. Then we can build all we want. Let’s go build ourselves a city with a huge tower that reaches into heaven. That way we will make a name for ourselves. If we don’t, we’ll run the risk of being scattered all over the earth.
“The desire to settle in one place and build a city runs counter to God’s command to spread out across the earth. They want to make their mark on the world rather than conform to God’s plan for their lives. They want power and prestige. They want to ensure that they will not be scattered; that is, they want to choose their own destiny. But God has a different plan and purpose. God is the One who determines destiny.
“The Eternal One came down and took a look at the city and the tower the children of Adam were building. God was not pleased.
“Eternal One: Will you look at that! The people are all together on this. With one language they are able to start this kind of project. This is only the beginning of what they will do. Soon they will think they can accomplish anything and everything on their own. Let’s go down and break this up! If We confuse their language, they won’t be able to understand each other’s words.
“This is how the Eternal scattered people from Shinar all across the surface of the earth. Since they were unable to communicate, they stopped working on the city and went their separate ways. So this is why the city was called Babel: because it was there that the Eternal confused the language of all the peoples and scattered them across the surface of the earth.”
You’ll notice that the sin wasn’t pride but the myth and delusion of self-sufficiency. I can do it by myself. When we hear a two year old say it, what do we do as adults? We laugh, don’t we? It’s cute, and we know the toddler is learning how to put their shoes on, or whatever the skill may be, and they may or may not be actually able to do it themselves on this occasion. But they sure want to try. While much of our United Methodist liturgy comes from the Anglican Church, because we started as a revival movement within the Church of England, when we adopted the liturgy to form our own prayer book, we changed a few things, as you might expect. One thing we did was to shorten the responses in the baptismal liturgy. The answers in our hymnal all say “I do” or “I will.” In the Anglican/Episcopal Church, they say, “I will, with God’s help.” I will keep these vows to love my neighbor, with God’s help. I will resist evil, injustice, and oppression, with God’s help. When Methodism left England and hopped across the pond to America, we edited that liturgy with a bit of our American value of self-sufficiency, and just said, “We will,” implying we can do it by ourselves, without God.  [pause] As if we can keep our vows by ourselves without any help! You can’t keep your marriage vows by yourself because there are two people in a marriage! You can’t keep your baptismal vows or membership vows by yourself, because in baptism you join God’s family, and in becoming a member of a local church, you join that congregation. We’re all in this together. We cannot do it by ourselves, in spite of thinking like the people of Babel, “we can accomplish anything and everything on our own.” As if we don’t need God.
Another sin you may have picked up on was the people’s rejection of God’s mandate to spread over all the earth. By Genesis 11, God has already said this twice. God says it first in Genesis 1:28, with the instructions to Adam and Eve, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and take charge over it.” God repeats this instruction after the flood in Genesis 9:1. “God blesses Noah and his family, saying to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number and fill the earth.” It sounds like God is serious about this. Have babies and fill the earth. But, here in chapter 11, the people have stopped filling the earth. They’ve found a spot and want to settle down. They don’t want to fill the earth anymore. Instead, the people want to stay the same and preserve their uniformity. “They want to make their mark on the world, rather than follow God’s plan for their lives.” Sometimes the story of the tower of Babel is read as a critique of empires, which impose one dominant language over the empire in order to enforce unity and conformity. But God’s plan is bigger than our plan, especially if our plan takes God out of the picture and is directly contrary to what God has told you to do.
You know who else did something completely contrary to what God told him to do? Jonah. God told him to go to Ninevah, the capital of the Babylonian Empire. Jonah immediately hopped a ship going the exact opposite direction. God caused a storm on the sea, the sailors threw Jonah overboard in order to calm the sea, and after spending three days and nights in the belly of a whale, kinda like Pinocchio, when Jonah found himself back on dry land again, God again said, “Go to Ninevah.” And that time, Jonah went. He still wasn’t happy about it, but he went. The people at Babel said, “Let’s build a city and a tower so we won’t be scattered.” God said, “Uh, no. Scatter.” And you can almost imagine God flicking a finger scattering them off the tower and around the world.
God values our diversity. Otherwise Pentecost would have been everyone hearing the Gospel in one universal language, not everyone hearing the Gospel in their own language. Pentecost isn’t a reversal of Babel. It isn’t a healing. It’s a fulfillment. Go, fill the whole earth. And now that you’ve done that, hear the good news of Jesus Christ, each in your own native tongue. You can go a lot of places around the world today and speak English. But you know what the lingua franca used to be less than 100 years ago? French. And at another point in history it was Latin, the language of the Roman Empire. Variety means we’re not all the same. Diversity means we get to learn about other ways of doing things, that aren’t better or worse, just different. Different understandings, different approaches, different opinions, different ways of seeing the world. Diversity should not mean you have to build walls or put up your defenses or learn how to argue or how to protect yourself. Instead, diversity is God’s gift to us all. We’re not all the same, Pentecost kept those differences, didn’t erase them, but embraced the fact that God has made us all so wonderfully different. Thank God for that.


[1] God’s Big Plan by Elizabeth F. Caldwell and Theodore Hiebert

Tuesday, May 21, 2019

A Baptism Sermon on Water


5th Sunday of Easter
May 19, 2019
Revelation 21:1-6


            Water. We take it for granted unless there’s too much of it or too little of it. It’s something we all need; it’s necessary for life. That’s why it was such a big deal to find it on Mars a few years ago. And we tend to assume it’ll come out of the faucet when we turn the knob and will keep flowing until we turn the knob again. One of the shocks moving out here was the first time the power went out, and we learned that on well water, no power means no water. I’ve never lost water before; I’ve always taken it for granted that it will come out of the faucet. Yet the weird thing about water is that while it’s necessary for life, it can also kill life. Consider the record flooding of the Missouri River two months ago that left half of Iowa and 2/3 of Nebraska declared federal disasters. Water gives life and it can take life. Yet we know this, it’s as old as time. God flooded the earth yet saved Noah and those with him on the ark. When the Israelites escaped Egypt, Moses parted the water of the Red Sea and they walked through on dry ground. Then God closed the waters and the Egyptians who chased them drowned. The Israelites were saved by water; the Egyptians died by it. Water is also used to create. You can’t make a sandcastle without adding water to the sand. And, similarly, we are born through water as well, baptized by water when we join God’s family. In Revelation this morning we read, as we have read before in Isaiah, God proclaiming, “I am making all things new!”[1] One way God does that is through the waters of baptism. Now, in that same passage from Revelation, there were three references to water.
            The first one was in the description of a new heaven and a new earth (also an Isaiah reference).[2] The old things have passed away, and God also removes the sea. This may seem like a very curious thing to remove, because it’s not that there’s no water in the new heaven and new earth; we know there is, there’s the river of life, which we’ll get to in a moment. So, there’s water, but no sea. Know why? The sea symbolizes chaos and instability and evil. Think back to the beginning of creation in Genesis 1, “the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.”[3] The second thing God did, after creating light on Day 1, was on Day 2 and Day 3 to put the water in its place. God created a dome, to separate the waters, and then God gathered all the waters together in one place so that dry land could appear and could produce vegetation. Before there could be that, the sea of primordial chaos had to be organized, stabilized, tamed a little bit. It never is completely, the sea remains occasionally stormy, occasionally threatens, sends hurricanes. While a calm sea doesn’t make a sailor into an expert, stormy seas also separate us from each other. Stormy seas threaten to undo the goodness of God’s creation. And so here at the end of the Bible, as God brings forth a new heaven and new earth, the sea is gone, vanished, disappeared, and its absence is a sign of peace and security in the new creation. No more stormy seas to separate us from each other. No more flooding to destroy life. There is only water that is life-giving in this new creation, never life-draining.
            The second reference to water is in verse 4 where God wipes away every tear from your eyes. God does this because in this new creation there is no more death, crying, pain, mourning, sorrow, anguish, grief, suffering, or distress, and so there is no cause for tears of sadness. These are among the old things that are gone and passed away, the old conditions, the old order, the old ways. While we mourn their passing sometimes, there was another song from the recent remake of the movie “A Star Is Born” that isn’t getting airtime, probably because Lady Gaga doesn’t sing in it. Instead of a duet, it’s a solo by Bradley Cooper called “Maybe It’s Time to Let the Old Ways Die.” The first verse begins, “Maybe it’s time to let the old ways die. Maybe it’s time to let the old ways die. It takes a lot to change a man. Hell, it takes a lot to try. Maybe it’s time to let the old ways die.” And the last verse echoes the first, “Maybe it's time to let the old ways die. Maybe it's time to let the old ways die. It takes a lot to change your plans. Hella drain to change your mind. Maybe it's time to let the old ways die. Oh, maybe it's time to let the old ways die.” In the new creation, the old ways are gone. The old ways involve sorrow and crying and pain and death. The new ways do not. Isn’t that good news! In the new creation water no longer takes life and there is no more death or mourning or crying or pain.
            Finally, in verse six, at the end of our passage this morning, God offers the spring of the water of life. God offers this to those who are thirsty and at no cost, another echo back to Isaiah, this time to chapter 55 and the invitation to the thirsty that says, “Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost.” This is the invitation to all who are thirsty. That means it’s not for those who aren’t thirsty, and that means you have to want it. You have to know you’re thirsty and you have to want to quench that thirst. Otherwise, you’re not going to do anything about it. And then, both in Isaiah and here in the book of Revelation, God offers it freely. No charge. No exchange of goods. It’s a gift, with no strings attached. Another word for this is grace. I usually define grace as unconditional love, and that’s what God’s offering here: love, life-giving water, without any conditions. This is also a feature of the new creation instead of the old. Unlike the unjust economy of Babylon or Rome, or even today’s economy with tariffs and embargoes, this new creation is a place where life and its essentials are given as a free gift, without money, even to those who cannot pay for them, and there is no concern that they can’t pay, or will have to pay later. There’s no looking down on those who can’t pay. It’s offered freely to everyone who’s thirsty.
One more thing about this spring of life-giving water – unlike other springs and wells, this one won’t dry up. A few weeks ago I went on a walking tour of Silver Spring with my fellow pastors who are provisionally ordained and in the process, like me, towards full ordination. One of our stops was the site where the spring was where Silver Spring got its name from. Have any of you ever been there or know this story? Francis Preston Blair, a journalist and political advisor in the early 19th century came to that area seeking a place for his family to live that was a little bit out from Washington, D.C. His daughter found a spring with flecks of mica in it that in the sunlight, made the spring shine like silver. That spring is long since dried up and there’s a small park and plaque now marking its place. However, when we’re talking springs with Jesus, it’s more like his conversation with the Samaritan woman at the well in John 4. They meet at a well and Jesus asks her for a drink. She’s astounded that a Jewish man would ask a Samaritan woman for a drink. Jesus tells her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water… Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”[4] This spring of life-giving water is an eternal one that will never run dry. There’s not going to be a plaque that says, here was a life-giving spring. This is the spring of the water of life in the new creation. It gives life, not takes it away. Tears of sadness and despair and chaos are wiped away. And God offers to quench our thirst from a living and everlasting spring. What good news.
Now, there are a few implications of which I want to mention two. One is from a hymn I almost chose for today called “Freely, Freely.” It’s number 389 in your hymnal if you want to look it up later. The refrain says, “'Freely, freely you have received; freely, freely give. Go in my name, and because you believe others will know that I live.” We who have so freely received this life-giving gift of water are to freely share it with others. We don’t keep it boxed up or hoard it. We don’t bury it, like the third servant in Jesus’ parable of the talents, who buried his talent in the ground because he was afraid to use it. We don’t charge others for it. Instead, we forgive others just as we have been forgiven, like we say in the Lord’s Prayer. We love each other just as we have been loved, just as Jesus said in our Gospel this morning. This isn’t “love your neighbor as yourself” from the Old Testament.[5] This is “love each other as Jesus loves you.”[6] Unconditionally. Without limit. Not based on what you can do or what you achieve. No based on whether you agree on politics or share a lot in common or even understand each other. You can love someone without understanding them. You can be gracious and kind toward someone without knowing anything about them. We are all invited to the spring of the water of life. We who have already received are to now freely give.
            The second implication that we can do something about is those systems and institutions in place today that “create conditions such as tears, death, mourning, crying and pain that deny God’s purposes for life.”[7] There are obvious things like poverty and oppression and racism and sexism where you can examine your own biases and how you unwittingly contribute to their perpetuation and change your response. One of today’s biggest problems is what journalism calls “the big sort.” A Texas journalist named Bill Bishop published a book by that title ten years ago. It’s about how “Over the past three decades, we have been choosing the neighborhood (and church and news show) compatible with our lifestyle and beliefs. The result is a country that has become so polarized, so ideologically inbred that people don't know and can't understand those who live a few miles away.”[8] This division in our country is a cause of tears and grief and suffering and death. It is not life-giving. It’s creating chaos. It’s causing people to be thirsty for another option and this is what’s key. God is “at work through social process to replace circumstances that create tears, death, mourning, crying, and pain with circumstances that replace those things with mutually supportive, covenantal community.”[9]
That’s where the church comes in. We, God’s people in God’s world, are called to be a mutually supportive, covenantal community. We come from a variety of backgrounds. We don’t all agree on everything. Yet we have all received the water of eternal life. We have all been baptized into Christ’s Church and are all members of God’s family, brothers and sisters. Today we’re going to renew our covenant as part of K’s baptism. Listen to the different pieces, both the ones that you say and the ones that I say. It’s all there in your hymnal for you to follow along. We have been “given new birth through water and the Spirit.”[10] That’s the new creation that we were born into and join God in working to bring about here on earth. We “renounce the spiritual forces of wickedness.” We “accept the freedom and power God gives [us] to resist evil, injustice, and oppression.” And one of the promises we make to every baptized person is to surround them “with a community of love and forgiveness,” which means that unlike other places, we must be a community of love and forgiveness. We are called to live into the new creation and be a community of peace, not chaos, to let old things that are life-draining pass away, to wipe away each other’s tears when we run into conditions that deny God’s purposes for life, and work to change those conditions. Let’s begin.  If you’d please turn to page 33 in your hymnal and if K and her family and her godparents would please come forward.


[1] Revelation 21:5; Isaiah 43:19
[2] Isaiah 65:17
[3] Genesis 1:2
[4] John 4:10, 13-14
[5] Leviticus 19:18
[6] John 13:34
[8] From the back cover of “The Big Sort” by Bill Bishop, 2009
[10] UMH 33