Sunday, May 31, 2009

Unforeseen Hope

This sermon was heard at St. Mark Presbyterian Church in Dallas, Texas on Sunday May 31, 2009, Pentecost Sunday.

Acts 2:1-21
John 15:26-27, 16:4b-15

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen

There’s an old expression, “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.” We’ve heard it before, it means that it is better to take something certain than it is to risk more where you may lose everything. But when Jesus told the disciples “it is to your advantage that I go away,” we can well imagine the ancient equivalent of this old saw crossed their minds. Then again, the ancient equivalent came from Ecclesiastes 9 where the teacher says, “But whoever is joined with all the living has hope, for a living dog is better than a dead lion.”

A living dog, a dead lion? If the teacher was trying to tell the pupils that life is preferable to death the Apostles were in perfect agreement. They were with the Lion of Judah! Life didn’t get better than that. So the thoughts of Jesus going away, regardless of whomever would follow him would fill their hearts with sorrow. Of course their hearts were filled with sorrow. Jesus knew it and so do we. Oh yes, imagine the Advocate, but a bird in the hand…

Jesus had given them hope. Hope for new life. Hope for life eternal. They had seen and heard much. They had learned much too, but there was still much more to learn. For that, they need the Spirit of truth. What Jesus was giving them here was hope, hope that they could not imagine with his absence. He offers them unforeseen hope, the hope which was yet to come.

In John’s gospel, the apostles were promised someone who would be alongside them when the world prosecuted them and persecuted them. They were promised the Paraclete, one who would serve as their advocate. Outside of scripture, the word Paraclete often referred to a lawyer or attorney. The Paraclete is one who advocates on our behalf not before God but in God’s good creation. At this moment, they needed an advocate.

As the book of Acts begins, Jesus tells the apostles “not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father. ‘This,’ he said, ‘is what you have heard from me; for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.’” This wait could not have been comfortable. Given the events of the Passover, the apostles were marked men. The Romans knew this crew as rabble rousers. The temple leadership knew them as the worst kind of heretics. Yes, Jesus had returned to them, we have just read John’s report on that, but he was gone again. He had promised to return again, but he provided no estimated time of arrival.

They had received great promises. They had high hope. But the advocate, the Paraclete was still a promise, not a reality, not to them. They may have had all of the hope in the world, but with the reality of living in Palestine at that very moment, they would have been foolish if they had not felt fear.

It was at this very moment, on the day of Pentecost, that they were assembled together in one place. It was at this very moment that from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting.

This must have been even more frightening. They knew to be leery of the princes of this world. They knew the Governor and the Prelate and the Sanhedrin had them in their sights, but now the violent winds rushed down on them. I watched the Weather Channel on Tuesday night, I saw what was happening north of here. I saw Mike Bettis and the Vortex2 storm chasers in North Dallas talking about how difficult it is to chase storms in an urban area. I can’t imagine what it’s like to see that live from the front porch.

We may be talking about this scripture and praising God for the glory of the coming of the Holy Spirit, but on that day, they were in the midst of a violent wind filling the house where they were sitting. We talk about joy, they experienced terror.

Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared on them. By this gift, the apostles were able to communicate with the Jews from every nation under heaven who were living in Jerusalem. The crowd gathered and they were bewildered. Nobody needed a translator anymore. Nobody needed to find a common tongue, not anymore. The apostles spoke to the masses in their own tongues, the curse of Babel was broken for a great shining moment. There was joy and glory was given to God.

The people asked what this meant. And they heard the answer of the informed crowd. They’re drunk. Peter said that they weren’t drunk; after all it was only nine in the morning. Honestly, I grew up in Kansas City, the bars opened at 6:00 am six days a week. I’ve seen drunks at nine in the morning. But none of them could quote the prophet Joel.

In the latest issue of the Presbyterian Outlook Magazine, Jack Haberer writes:

There is a new wind blowing through the sometimes musty halls of American Churches, and it is sweeping away the hypocrisy, lack of social concern, and unnecessary cultural baggage accumulated by the mainstream churches through the years. Thousands of people, young in spirit, are turning away from the anti-intellectuality of separatist fundamentalism and from mainstream ecumenical liberalism…[and to]…a vital, open, and truly revolutionary answer to Christ’s call to “go and teach all the nations.”[1]

The Good News is that these words come to us with a joy and determination to leave unproductive church-ianity in the wake of a spirit led revival. The bad news is that these words don’t come from a new missional group. They don’t come from the writings of the emerging church either. They come from the pen of Richard Quebedeaux and were written 35 years ago.[2] Asking “What happened,” Haberer pines “The young evangelicals [of the 1960’s and 70’s] grew older.”

We know the statistics; the church has lamented them for over fifty years. But here’s a slightly different spin on them from The Mainline Evangelism Project. In 1960, twenty-six million people were members of the seven mainline denominations. That comes to 14.4% of the population. In 2000, the number of people who were members of the mainline churches fell to 21 million folks and the percentage of people who were members of these churches fell to 7.4% of Americans. The fall in the mainstream ranks is in raw numbers and even more so as a percent of the population. Our only consolation is that there is the company in this misery; these numbers pertain to all of the mainline denominations.[3]

Haberer does not see us as hopeless though, he continues in the Outlook, “we all do well to re-read the gospels’ stories. The clarity of Jesus’ vision, the strength of his resolve, the power of his appeal, the cost of his summons to follow … such words and actions have stood the test of time. Let us all catch that vision together and refuse to let it fade.”[4]

To recapture the Spirit of Pentecost, we must again learn to speak so that those who will hear us will understand we have something to say. And what a thing we have to say. We believe that faith makes a difference in our lives; and there are as many reasons as there are people. Some of the typical reasons include:[5]

· A relationship with Christ makes sense, it’s true
· I love God so much I want other people to know this joy themselves
· The church community provides a great way to serve others
· Life in the Spirit is exciting
· I used to be consumed with guilt and through the grace of Christ there is forgiveness
· I have seen miracles and I want others to know it’s possible
· Christ has changed my life

As the apostles shared with the world on the day of Pentecost, we too are called to share. Our stories tell others about who we are and whose we are. We all have stories, but we only share in the Pentecost when we share these stories. We are called to know our stories, the stories of our faith that shows others the difference a relationship with the triune God makes in our lives. And we must be able to communicate this story so that those with ears may hear.

We, we who carry the cross of Christ into the world must learn to speak so that the world may hear. The blessing of the Pentecost is the immediacy of the ability that the Galileans received to speak to the Parthians, Medes, Elamites, residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, and so on. But going back to what I said earlier, about the decrease in members in the mainline Christian churches, we don’t need to speak to just Asians, Arabs, Egyptians, and Libyans belonging to Cyrene; we need to speak to our neighbors.

We can gain wisdom on this matter from ancient Celtic Christianity.[6] In 563 AD, about a century after the death of St. Patrick, Columba sought off to an island off of the western Scottish coast. This isle would be his base to reach the Picts of Scotland. Columba took a sizeable corps with him and they learned the culture of the Picts. They chose to pay the price to understand the Picts. Columba’s way of doing mission was the opposite of the model James Michener presented in his novel “Hawaii.” They learned about the people, their language, and their culture. They sent out teams from their island settlement—a little place called Iona—and in 100 years the Picts were significantly Christian.

The lessons we take from this is that there people close to us who do not know the Word of God. We need to learn about how they speak and show them the Gospel in words they understand. Peter and the Apostles did this miraculously; Columba and the Iona community did this diligently. We need to learn how to share the story of faith so that those with ears may be able to hear the word of God.

We talk about speaking in tongues, this gift of the Spirit being the one most accented during Pentecost, but where at Pentecost we talk about speaking in foreign tongues, we have to remember that there is an entire generation of people in America don’t hear the word because we don’t speak their language. In this world of Twitter and Facebook, we need to learn how to take the message of God into the world in a new language, without compromising the cross of Christ.

So today, let us all regain the elemental presence of worship. We come to the font of many blessings overflowing with living water and remember our baptism. We come to the table with the cup and the plate to partake in the food that feeds our bodies and our souls. We hear the Word proclaimed and even more so, we come to know the Word Incarnate, the Son of God, the one who the Lord has set aside since before the creation, Jesus the Christ.

And today, especially today, we need to allow ourselves to be consumed by the fire of the Holy Spirit so that as steel is forged in the furnace, we may be made strong in the Lord for the Lord’s service. And we do this so that in the words of our Lord, “Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” By this, our hope is anything but unforeseen.

[1] Haberer, Jack, The Presbyterian Outlook. Vol. 191-20, June 8/15, 2009, page 5.
[2] Haberer cites Quebedeaux, Richard, The Young Evangelicals: Evolution in Orthodoxy. H&R, 1975.
[3] Reese, Martha Grace, Unbinding the Gospel, 2nd edition. St. Louis: Chalice Press, 2008, page 25.
[4] Ibid, Haberer
[5] Reese, Martha Grace, Unbinding the Gospel. St. Louis: Chalice Press, 2008, pages 19-20.
[6] Hunter, George C. III, The Celtic Way of Evangelism. Nashville: Abingdon, 2000, page 36.

Monday, May 25, 2009

Another World

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday May 24, 2009, the 7th Sunday in Easter.

Acts 1:15-17, 21-26
Psalm 1
1 John 5:9-13
John 17:6-19

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen

There is something tempting about escaping from the world. The travel industry and the real estate businesses know this. They spend millions to lure us to take luxury cruises where our every whim is met, to enjoy even fractional ownership in condos at the shore, to buy a second home on the mountains where we can leave our real life pressures behind. The want to leave it all behind is as old as scripture.

Religious faith may intensify the desire for escape from the world. Having glimpsed a vision of what is holy and good, the human spirit may hunger not for the promised splendor of luxury resorts, but for a community and a way of being that avoid the clamor and conflict of the world. The history of Christianity is filled with stories of such arrangements: monasteries, convents, reform movements, communal living, utopias, and retreat centers; small groups centered on prayer, study, and piety. These efforts attempt to create a space unencumbered by the world that allows for a fuller realization of a faithful, holy life.[1]

It appears that the desire to live apart from the world arose in the community addressed by John’s gospel. By the end of the first century, as conflict with the authorities increased, the members of John’s community were understandably attracted to a life of faith that would disengage them from the powers that were opposed to the gospel. How good it would feel to retreat into their own group, to recall the stories of Jesus, to sense his presence in their meals of bread and wine, to enjoy each other’s supportive fellowship, and no longer have to defend their beliefs and practices to a hostile world.

This reading from John’s gospel can be read as a sermon addressed to this desire for a more ingrown life in a separate world, another world of the Lord. The wisdom of this sermon, delivered as the instruction of Christ, is this; it provides an alternative to retreat from the world without giving into the pressures of the world. Again and again, we read that Jesus and his disciples “do not belong to the world,” that is to say the world’s claims do not shape their identity, faith, and values.

But at the same time, Christ is crystal clear that there is no escape from the reality of the world. He says, “I speak these things in the world so that they may have my joy made complete in themselves.” Christ speaks to them in the same world where they live and where they will find joy “in themselves” or in equally valid translation, “among themselves.” Yes they can be a community and yes, they can find joy in that community; but no, Jesus never abandoned the world and the community which is his body is not to abandon the world.

Jesus makes this point over and over. “I am not asking you to take them out of the world, but I ask you to protect them from the evil one. They do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world.” Instead of retreat from the world, Christ offers an alternative that can empower the community to live in the world without succumbing to its values and pressures. They are to stay in the world under the protective care of God. They are to live amidst all the knotted complexities of the world without getting themselves entangled.

The holiness they might have hoped to achieve by escape from the world is to be found not through disengagement but through the action of God and immersion in God’s word. “Sanctify them in the truth; your word is the truth.” Christ recognizes their desire to be holy but reorients the direction of their yearnings, turning them to the truth of God’s word that is revealed here in the person and work of Christ and the writings of scripture that are revealed in the here and now of God’s good creation.

This plea to remain in the world rises as Christ prays, “As you have sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world. “Sent into the world,” the exact opposite of getting out of the world, is key. In one clean, clear verse Christ reminds the church that the pattern of his own life was not escape from the world but engagement in the world, with all of its distorted powers and pressures.

John’s sermon is a strong argument for remaining in the world, addressed to a community that for good reason is exhausted by the world and ready to be done with it. We too live in a world that where we are exhausted with the world’s ceaseless corruption, and frequent feelings of despair over the inability to make a difference.

Who hasn’t returned from vacation looking tanned, rested, and ready to go, still with the mildly nagging thought, “Why can’t I feel like this all the time?” Perhaps the feeling we get after vacation isn’t supposed to last all of the time. John’s gospel would certainly be in accord with this.

Harley Davidson hasn't always had the kind of success or appeal it enjoys now. Harleys were the cycle of choice of the outlaw biker since before the first great biker melee, the July 4, 1947 Hollister biker riot.[2] Because of this bad press and a flood biker films produced from the 1950’s through the 1970’s; Harley chose to distance itself from this image.

But as quality Japanese imports and poor domestic product flooded the market, Harley Davidson stumbled close to bankruptcy. It was well into the 1980’s before the company leadership embraced the hard-core biker group that was showing incredibly faithful brand loyalty. To ward off the invasion of the Japanese bikes, Harley made a final, desperate bid for survival by focusing on its legendary connection with rebelliousness, sheer vitality and off-the-wall lust for the elemental life.

The strategy worked. Harley saved itself by embracing its outlaw image. Hog riders and cycle lovers want to see themselves as being part of another world no matter the role they play in the 9-to-5 as lawyers, accountants or business leaders. They feel unashamed and unabashed as they strap on their leathers and rumble off on their “Milwaukee monsters” to Sturgis.

The Sturgis Rally seemed to try to feed from both sides of the hog trough. At The Roadhouse in Eureka Springs, there is a lithograph from the 1999 rally. On it you will see thousands and thousands of bikes parked shoulder to shoulder with the GEIKO Gecko selling insurance across the street from a local store selling vital motorcycle accessories like leather bikinis.[3]

True riders have little time for the new breed of bikers out there; the growing cotillions of polished and well-paid professionals who have discovered that while they were bred to be businesspeople, they were born to be wild. While they make a living writing legal briefs, they really live to ride. They clatter away on computers in their corporate cubicles, and want to be outlaws on weekends, riding the roads with cup holders for double-decaf cappuccinos.

Bottom line? At the soul of the Harley is a rumble and a roar, an outlaw attitude that is positively otherworldly. To be a true renegade rider, you've got to put your hope of hog heaven above everything else.

There’s a message for us here, whether we're bike buffs or not. Jesus, in his great prayer in John 17, hopes his disciples will be willing to be of another world, to strap on the leathers of a countercultural spiritual life. Herein lies the problem.

Although we are called to a radical Christianity, too many of us are practicing a pastel Church-ianity that has lost sight of its original vision. We've become a gaggle of weekend riders rather than the gang of road warriors Jesus refers to in the prayer of our text. Our primary identity is an outlaw identity; outside the law, that is, and inside God's grace.

On our way to hog heaven, we've got to strap on the leathers: jackets, chaps, gloves and other protective pieces - a rebel getup that the apostle Paul describes elsewhere as the whole armor of God: A belt of truth around the waist, a breastplate of righteousness, a shield of faith and a helmet of salvation. The early history of the church is nothing if not a gallery of outlaw Christians ready to rumble: Paul, Peter, James and John, Ignatius, Polycarp, Justin, Cyprian, Tertullian, Anthony, Athanasius and Augustine. These are not cappuccino Christians.

Fortunately, their breed still exists. The church has Chuck Colsons who work in prisons; Mark Yaconelli who, with a Lilly Foundation grant, is introducing teens to Lectio Divina at Sleepy Hollow Presbyterian Church in San Anselmo, California; Bart Campolo, an evangelist with a buzz cut and combat boots working with the homeless and fatherless in the crack-sophisticated ghettos of Philadelphia; John Dilulio, a Princeton professor who has created a new project to help teens escape the cycle of poverty, crime and drug abuse; Eugene Rivers and his Azusa Christian Community in the inner city of Boston.

Committed Christians have got to hang tough, and be Real Riders; not just the “wannabees” so disdained by die-hard hogsters. Jesus knows that this is not always easy, especially when he is not physically present to guide us or when evil threatens to throw us off course. The challenge is always to remember who we are and whose we are: citizens of another world, a breed apart.

In the end, it's a trip to be an outlaw: to live outside the law of human expectations, and inside the grace of God. Harley Davidson got it right when it discovered that hog riders are tapped into another reality, one that fills them with joy as they slip on their jackets and rumble off to Sturgis. We, too, are part of another world: the countercultural, convention-confounding kingdom of God.

Not to mention rowdier, and a whole lot more joyful.

Resources
Troeger, Thomas H., John 17:6-19 Homiletical Perspectives article. Feasting on the Word, Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year B, Vol. 2. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2008, pages 547-549

Hog Heaven, http://www.homileticsonline.com/subscriber/btl_display.asp?installment_id=2692, retrieved May 17, 2009.

[1] Paragraph edited from draft regarding Utopia:
Ironically, the word Utopia gives us a clue that this life of perfection cannot exist on the earth as we know it. This English word has two different and opposite Greek renderings. One of these, the one we like best, means “good place.” Utopia is a good place where all is right in the world. The other, the one which brings the irony, means “no place.” In this rendering, Utopia is found no place on earth.
[2] Holister Bike Riot, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hollister_riot, retrieved May 23, 2009.
[3] Honestly, it’s the print by the door to the deck.
This paragraph was edited from draft regarding the 50th anniversary rally:
The 50th anniversary rally in 2000 hosted an estimated 633,000 participants, who created almost 770 tons of garbage, records according to the organizers. The 2008 only had 415,000 attendees and generated just 543 tons of trash. The 50th anniversary rally also recorded record numbers of parking tickets, traffic violations, and drug arrests. Unfortunately, arrests for non-traffic-and-drug violations are on the upswing along with calls to the Sturgis PD, Meade County Sherriff’s office, and Emergency Room visits. (http://www.sturgismotorcyclerally.com/questions-stats/images/rallystats.pdf)

Sunday, May 17, 2009

For Those with Ears to Hear

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday May 17, 2009, the 6th Sunday in Lent. Sorry for the poor sermon title.

Acts 10:44-48
Psalm 98
1 John 5:1-6
John 15:9-17

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen

The movie “Rudy” is the story of Daniel “Rudy” Ruettiger, a young man who wants to play football for the University of Notre Dame more than anything else in the world. Of course, this isn’t an easy road. Because of grades and money, he worked in a steel mill after graduating from high school. So when he decides to go to college he is older than most of the rest of the student body. Because of his relatively weak academic credentials, he starts his studies at Holy Cross Junior College in South Bend. At 5’6”, Rudy is also much, much smaller than any other member of the Fighting Irish.

But he works, and he prays, and he works and he prays. One of the relationships the movie focuses on is between Rudy and a parish priest in South Bend, Father Cavanaugh. Rudy, feeling the futility of his actions asks Father Cavanaugh about God. Father Cavanaugh says, “Son, in 35 years of religious study, I have only come up with two hard incontrovertible facts: there is a God, and I'm not Him.”[1]

There are several things that ring true for me in these readings from John today, and they bring me back to Father Cavanaugh’s words, there is a God, and I’m not Him.

To begin, if we are to do anything, we are to abide in God’s love. Abiding in the love of God expresses the central theme of our gospel readings last week and this week.[2] The relationship of God and Jesus with one another and with the community is one of presence and mutuality. Last week, we followed the imagery of how the vine symbolizes the way that the life of the Christian community is shaped by love and intertwined with the abiding presence of Jesus and the presence of the Father.

Our reading from 1John shows us how we are to abide in Christ, by obeying his commandments; commandments which are not burdensome. John’s gospel records Jesus saying that we are called to keep the commandments and abide in God’s love so that Jesus may take joy in us; and so that our joy may be complete.

We follow the commandments not so that we may lose our freedom, but so that our freedom may be increased in love. Dietrich Bonhoeffer writes:

Biblically, freedom means free for service to God and neighbor, freedom for obedience to the commandments of God. This presupposes freedom from every internal and external force that hinders us from this service. Thus, freedom does not mean the dissolution of all authority but rather means living under the authorities and obligations ordained and limited by the word of God… Freedom is not primarily an individual right, but a responsibility. Freedom is not primarily oriented toward the individual but toward the neighbor.
Jesus says “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” To Jesus, freedom and love is found in acting responsibly, sacrificing for friends. Friendship is defined by Jesus’ love. To be Jesus’ friend is to love Jesus and be loved by him.[4]

Jesus showed the ultimate exercise of freedom and the greatest act of love in giving his life for not just his friends, but to redeem creation through his blood upon the cross. This is our commandment, to love one another as Jesus loves us.

If you are wondering if laying down your life isn’t burdensome, I don’t blame you. But a little more explanation will help with that.

In this writing, the word burdensome deals with legal restrictions.[5] I used to work in two heavily regulated industries. I worked under a United States Education Department grant and I worked in the… well let’s call it the hospitality industry. Both of these things were loaded with burdensome regulation. In Kansas City, it is illegal for a patron of a bar to buy a cocktail for a female employee of that same bar, whether on duty or not. I suspect this ties into prostitution laws somehow.

When I worked under the federal grant, we were required to follow a huge book of regulations, the Education Department General Administrative Regulations, EDGAR. EDGAR was very precise, but it had one big loophole, whenever federal regulation ran contradictory to college regulation, the college took precedence. Believe me; getting a local grant administrator to follow that little gem, which is in the school’s favor, was tough. Add to that local regulations often came in the form of state laws and it took a team of lawyers to hire a math tutor.

Jesus teaches and John writes that love is not bounded by the burdens of the law. We hear “you shall love the Lord your God and your neighbor as yourself,” this greatest commandment of them all frees us so that we may be obedient to the needs of the community, not to the letter of the law.

Our readings also teach that we are the children of God and friends of Jesus. Our reading from 1John begins, “Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ has been born of God, and everyone who loves the parent loves the child. By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey his commandments.”

The gospel tells us that Jesus longer calls us servants “because the servant does not know what the master is doing;” he continues “but I have called you friends.” The friend of Jesus, like the child entering the family business, is taught the intricacies of the Father’s work. By this knowledge, we bear good fruit, the good fruit of the kingdom.

In his book “Palm Sunday,” Kurt Vonnegut speaks of the family brewing business, a business that closed around 1920 with Prohibition. In an interview, when asked what made their beer special, Vonnegut said that during the brewing process, there was a special ingredient added, which only two of the brew masters knew. This ingredient was added in secret, everyone else on the brewery floor had to leave. When asked what the ingredient was, he said, “Coffee.”

This is one of the joys of the family business. In a family business, there are quirky peculiarities that make a difference. This is seen in products like the Vonnegut family beer. This is the joy of learning from the Lord of all creation, so that we may learn the will of God and the special revelation of the word in Jesus Christ.

This can also be seen in processes. There is a famous story about the women of a particular family who always cut off the end of a ham, or a roast depending on the story teller, before putting it in the pan. A man who marries into this family wonders why and hears from three generations of women that they cut off the ends of the meat because that’s what their mother did. The man finally tracks the story down to the grand matron of the family who tells him that the reason she cut off the end was because her pan was too small for the entire cut of meat. She had to cut off the end so that it would fit in her pan and in the oven.

While this story talks about family life and the joy of children learning from their parents, it also makes one more important point. Sometimes, what we learn is not what was being taught.

Jesus tells us that he calls us friends because he has made known to us everything that he has heard from the Father. This is wonderful and glorious; Jesus has made everything known to us that he has heard from the father.

What is unfortunate is that like the following generations, we may think we follow when we really don’t. What is unfortunate is that while Jesus has made everything that he has heard from the Father known to us, our hearing is not perfect. Another way to say this is using the words of Father Cavanaugh, “There is a God, and I’m not Him.”

We are called to go and bear fruit, we are called to go to the Father with requests in the name of the Son, but we know that we do not always bear good fruit. We know that our prayers are not always answered in the ways we want them answered. This is no lapse on the part of the Father or the Son; it is a lapse that sin has laid upon our hearing. The shame is even when we want to follow in perfect accord; we are not able.

This is perhaps why it is important to hang upon this commandment, that we love one another as Christ has loved us. There is no greater love is this, than when we abide in God’s love and be Jesus’ friends; and to be Jesus’ friend is to love Jesus and be loved by him.

[1] “Rudy,” Internet Movie Data Base. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0108002/, retrieved May 16, 2009
[2] Study notes for John 15:9-17. The New Interpreter’s Study Bible, Electronic Edition. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2003.
[3] Bonhoeffer, Dietrich, I Want to Live These Days, A Year of Daily Devotions. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2007, page 136.
[4] Ibid. New Interpreter’s Study Bible
[5] Bauer, Walter. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature, Third Edition. Frederick William Danker, Editor. Chicago: University Of Chicago Press, 2001.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Vintage Stuff

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday May 10, 2009, the 5th Sunday in Easter.

Much of the information about trimming fruit trees came from this link:
Video featuring Roger Cook from Ask This Old House.

Acts 8:24-40
Psalm 22:25-31
1 John 4:7-21
John 15:1-8

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen

The next time you’re out on Highway 62 going to Harrison, take a look at the apple orchards on the east side of Green Forest. Think about big, full, lush apple trees laden with fruit and you will notice something different about these trees. They are neither big nor full nor lush. They are kind of spindly looking. There are leaves on the branches, but lush isn’t the word to describe them. They will qualify as “laden with fruit” though. There is an important lesson to be learned here, a tree can be ornamental or it can be fruit producing, not both.

Pruning a fruit tree is relatively easy.[1] It takes a few hours and the right tools to do the job. To prune a fruit tree, you’ll need a set of hand pruners, a pruning saw, and some bypass pruners to do the bulk of the work. You’ll also need a set of long-handled loppers to take care of the top of the tree. Using long handles is preferable to a ladder, because it’s harder to fall from the ground than it is from a ladder. You’ll also need a coat, warm hat and some gloves because pruning is best done in the winter when the tree is dormant.

You’ll also need to know about the tree. You’ll need to identify the central leader, the main trunk of the tree. You don’t want to lop off the central leader, that’s the spinal column of the tree. You will need to identify the flowering buds and the vegetative buds. You will want to keep the flowering buds because that’s where the apples will come from at harvest. But if you have say a foot long branch that has only vegetative buds, buds that just produce leaves, you can remove that. After all, the leaves don’t produce fruit.

You’ll need to do some shaping, making sure to leave the canopy branches remain intact. You will need to remove branches that are rubbing on one another. You will also want to remove small sucker branches. It goes without saying, but you need to cut out the dead branches too. They’re just trouble waiting to happen if they break and take down good branches.

Doing this, you reduce the number of branches that produce leaves, and you increase the amount of sap to flow to the branches that produce fruit. Whether you are running an orchard or you want the tree in your back yard to produce more and better fruit, you want more sap flowing from the central leader to the branches that produce fruit. That’s what pruning accomplishes.

One other thing is very, very important to know about pruning. If you are pruning an established fruit tree for the first time, there will be a lot of branches that need to be removed to optimize fruit production. This can’t be done all at once. This should be done over three consecutive winters, or else you will shock the tree. Bad pruning will hurt the tree more than it helps. It can even kill the tree if too much is taken at once.

Of course you will need to continue to prune the tree year after year. But with these techniques and after three years of hard pruning, it will be a breeze.

When finished, you will have a tree that produces a bounty of wonderfully plump and juicy fruit. But remember, the tree which produces the best and most is probably not very pretty. That’s just the way of life for a tree in the orchard. Glory is in fruit production; you can’t sell or eat pretty.

You know where I’m going with this. Jesus says, “My father is the vinegrower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit.” In the day, the people knew vines and dressing vines. They knew far more about viniculture than we do. Since dressing a vine is not so dissimilar from pruning a fruit tree; I hoped this would bring us all up to speed on what it means to prune.

What does this mean for us today? Let’s use what we are given in John’s gospel. There is the Father who is the vinegrower. There is Jesus the vine. There is the branch and that’s us. The fruit, well, that’s a wildcard isn’t it. John’s gospel leaves that one alone, not saying what the fruit is. Let’s just say that whatever the fruit is, it’s valuable and desirable.

Let’s begin with the fact that pruning involves cutting out what is unproductive and leaving what is. Let us also remember that pruning for productivity means cutting out things that may be very pretty, but add nothing to the harvest. As the branches in the tree of life in Jesus, we come off of the central leader. We are the branches off of the vine of Christ. The pieces that sport only vegetative buds have to go so the flowering fruit buds will get more and better nourishment.

Something that often catches our attention at this point is verse six where Jesus tells the people “Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire and burned.” This is a disturbing image because we hear Jesus talking about fire and really unsettling images come into our heads, not without good reason. The thought of being burned alive with all of the requisite screaming is seared into our imaginations.

But our reading from 1John teaches us that the pruning the Father does is done in love. Fear has to do with punishment, but pruning is not punishment, it is shaping us to bear much good fruit. This is done in love.

Still, what about the branches that don’t abide? Branches that aren’t a part of the vine will wither and die. Dead branches don’t feel the pain of the burning. Dead is dead and the dead branches have all ready felt the burning of death. The burning fire causes no further pain. Pruning smarts, and don’t let anyone tell you that it doesn’t. Pruning cuts out things that we have become accustomed to, things we might actually like, things that are pretty. That’s the hard part.

Burning is just disposing of what is no longer useful. Now living branches burning, we’d feel that, but those are two different things. It’s like comparing apples and a dead branch—two completely different things.

The French have been making wines seemingly since the creation of the grape. The French system of grading vineyards, le grand cru, is meant to continue the quality of vineyard. The grading system for wines begun in 1855 strives to guarantee that great wines continue to thrive.

Much of the wine purchased is named after the French regions where they were first created, including Burgundy, Chardonnay, Bordeaux, and of course, Champagne. Great wines come from great regions because of the great grapes grown on great vines. Did you know that in France it is illegal to call a wine by the name of a region unless it is in fact produced in that region? Champagne produced in Italy or in California is not by definition Champagne. It’s sparkling wine, in Italy it’s spumanti. This system prevents inferior wines from being called by superior names.

Let me not despair the American wine industry. Many of the original American wine growers were French transplants who came to the US bringing French vines to be more experimental with grapes and wines. Free of the 1855 restrictions and le grand cru, these new growers have created many wonderful wines, even great vintages, from a fusion of grapes and techniques.

But the production of all great wine is rooted in one foundational principle: “Great wine is always a reflection on the particular vineyard.”[2] Great wine will never be made from a vine that is not tended and pruned by the vinegrower. To bear the good fruit and produce great vine, the vines face ongoing pruning.

As the church, the people of God, to bear the good fruit of the perfect vine, we face continual pruning. There is always a season of trimming and weeding. By this, we are able to bear much fruit.

Remember what Jesus said, “My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.” The tree which produces the best is probably not very pretty. Remember those trees outside of Green Forest, fruitful does not mean pretty in appearance. That’s just the way of life for a tree in the orchard. Glory is in production. You can’t sell or eat pretty.

Remember too, pruning happens and cutting can leave marks and scars; and beware, cutting that is not done well produces big scars and can hurt more than help.

As such, the church of Jesus Christ will never grow unless we are pruned with care and grace by the great vinegrower. God wants to tend the finest vineyard, the one that takes the ultimate prize for le grand cru. May we, as disciples of Jesus, the true vine, embrace our role as branches—channels for God’s grace, so that when the world samples the fine vintage of God’s love and grace, they will want to know the winemaker![3]

[1] How To Prune A Fruit Tree, Ask This Old House, http://www.thisoldhouse.com/toh/video/0,,20053952,00.html, retrieved May 7, 2009.
[2] Much of this part and this quote in particular come from “How to Be a Branch, HomeliticsOnline.com, http://www.homileticsonline.com/subscriber/btl_display.asp?installment_id=93040454, retrieved April 22, 2009.
[3] Ibid.

Sunday, May 03, 2009

Wondrous Loving Faithfulness

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday May 3, 2009, the 4th Sunday in Easter.

Acts 4:5-12
Psalm 23
1 John 3:16-24
John 10:11-18

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen

We’re used to hearing “the Good Shepherd.” When we hear it we have a feeling that good means more than just “average” or “adequate.” It means far more than good. In this case, the Good Shepherd means more than “the great” or “the wonderful” or even “the stellar” shepherd. This is the exemplary shepherd. This is the shepherd par excellence. We use phrases like King of kings and Lord of lords to describe Jesus. In this same vein it is proper to call Jesus the Shepherd of shepherds.

The Good Shepherd, there is no more beloved image in Christian scripture than this. Of course we love the shepherd. The shepherd is the one who not only cares for the sheep; the sheep belong to the shepherd’s fold. And as we are told here in John’s gospel, the shepherd knows his sheep and the sheep know the shepherd.

But still, given the status shepherds had in ancient society, this isn’t much of a complement. In our culture, to call someone the Good Shepherd—even the Shepherd of all shepherds is like calling someone the best migrant worker ever.[1] Even at that, we’re talking about the young boy migrant worker, not the family patriarch or matriarch.

As connected as we are to the imagery of the shepherd, we must be connected to not only its beloved image, but its scandalous one too. Shepherds were boys, they weren’t men. They were given a very dangerous job. The pens they guarded were without gates as we know them, the boys themselves served as the gate. When a predator comes to get the sheep, they have to go through the boys first.

This is where comparing the shepherds to migrant workers falls apart. The migrant is a hired hand who moves on to the next crop after the harvest. Putting your life on the line is not something you expect the hired hand to do.

Fighting off the wolf at the door is not mercenary territory. If the worker is in it just for the denarius, they won’t be willing to put themselves on the line when crunch time comes. Someone working for coin can never be expected to put their life on the line. When the demon is at the door, you don’t want the butler to answer, you want family. This is the importance of the son as the shepherd. This is the importance of the Son of Man as the Good Shepherd.

One of the things shepherds bring to mind is the Children’s Christmas Pageant. This reflection on the pageant comes from Ralph F. Wilson, Director of Joyful Heart Renewal Ministries.

Angels are clean. Angels are beautiful. They seem almost otherworldly, since girl angels always seem to know their parts better than boy shepherds do. The angelic satin stuff goes pretty well in most Christmas pageants. The problems come with the shepherdly burlap part.

Wilson continues: Do you know what real-life shepherds were like? Townspeople looked down on them. “Herdsmen!” they’d huff derisively. Shepherds would work with sheep all day, sleep outside with the animals at night and then come into town dirty, sweaty and smelly, like the boys they were. Tradesmen in the marketplace would be polite enough. Shopkeepers would wait on them, but everybody was happy when they moved along. Burlap fits the part.

Angels get clouds and the Hallelujah Chorus. Shepherds get a stable. Maybe cattle lowing has a bit of romance; but conjure up the smells and the filth. This is no stainless steel dairy palace; it’s a crude cave for a barn, with good reason for straw on the floor. Not exactly the setting you'd choose for a birth if you had the luxury of planning ahead.

Angels seem appropriate to the birth of God's son. But straw and sweat and burlap do not.[2]

In biblical times, many different shepherds would pen their sheep together overnight. When it came time to separate the flocks to take them to their grazing areas, the shepherd would call out and his sheep would follow. The sheep wouldn’t follow a shepherd they did not know.

But the Good Shepherd tells those who with ears to listen that they are not the only sheep in his fold. He tells the people “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold.” We hear these words knowing that somewhere in this wide world, the grace and peace of the Lord Jesus Christ are not for us alone, there are other sheep in the fold and for this we praise God.

We just do it from the wrong side of the pen.

For you see, the people whom Jesus is addressing are named in John 9:40. With his discussion of the Good Shepherd and the sheep fold Jesus is responding to the Pharisees. It is Israel that is the sheep who know the voice of the Good Shepherd. The people who are Jesus’ own are the Jews, not us.

So often as Christians we think of ourselves as the first love of the Lord, and we are not. We are the other sheep. We are the sheep who do not belong to the named fold.

We aren’t first, but with thanks and praise be to the wondrous loving faithfulness of our Lord, we are next. It is together, not as separate peoples or different denominations but as the assembled children of God that we hear the voice of the Good Shepherd. When we hear the voice of the Shepherd we come together as one flock.

And it is for the shepherd’s love for his flock that he lays down his life. Every time the shepherd fills the gate, he protects the sheep from predators, predators that would think nothing of a stringy boy before getting to the fat sheep. From the Easter story, we too know how this pertains to us. Jesus lays down his life for us, and picks it up again three days later.

In a few minutes, we will sing our hymn of response to the love of God the Father and the work of the Son Jesus Christ, “Great Is Thy Faithfulness.” [3] We sing:

Join with all nature in manifold witness
To Thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love.

Great is thy faithfulness.
Great is thy faithfulness.
Morning by morning new mercies I see;
All I have needed thy hand hath provided;
Great is thy faithfulness, Lord unto me.
Later we’ll sing “What Wondrous Love Is This.”[4] We’ll sing:

What wondrous love is this that caused the Lord of bliss
To bear the heavy cross for my soul, for my soul.
We sing to the wondrous loving faithfulness of the God who comes and walks among us as a simple man; the God who voluntarily empties himself of his glory and takes upon himself the dangerous work of the shepherd; the God who not only lays down his life, put picks it up again for us. God incarnate lays down and picks up his life again of his own accord. He does this as the father has commanded. The Son of God and the Son of Man does as the lowliest shepherd boy, he does as his father commands.

The Hebrew word used for the love of God is hesed. Hesed is bold and unpredictable. It is unorthodox and unbound by convention and culture. It is a love which only God is capable; it is a love we are called to imitate and follow. We are called to be immersed in the hesed of the Lord. Only by first being immersed in this wondrous loving faithfulness can we share it with others.

Biblical scholar Carolyn Custis James writes hesed is “driven, not by duty or legal obligation, but by a bone-deep commitment—a loyal, selfless love that motivates a person to do voluntarily what no one has a right to expect or ask of them.”[5] By the wondrous loving faithfulness of Jesus we are saved; saved by who he is and what he does.

Our reading from 1John reminds us that as Christ laid down his life for us, we ought to lay down our lives for one another. Our response to God’s hesed, God’s wondrous loving faithfulness, is expressed by the Reverend William Sloane Coffin who said “duty calls only when gratitude fails to prompt.”[6] We are to faithfully respond to the love of God through thanksgiving.

Returning to the song “Wondrous Love”:
And when from death I'm free, I'll sing and joyful be,
And through eternity I'll sing on, I'll sing on,
And through eternity I'll sing on!
Let us sing on in thanks. Let us be moved by the bone deep commitment that motivates us to do voluntarily what no one has the right to ask or expect. Let us follow not out of duty, but out of gratitude for the Good Shepherd.

[1] Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor Eds. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008, pages 448-453.
[2] Ralph F. Wilson, "Burlap, Boys, and Christmas," The Joyful Heart, December 23, 1997, www.joyfulheart.com found at HomeliticsOnline.com, http://www.homileticsonline.com/subscriber/illustration_search.asp?item_topic_id=1661, retrieved May 2, 2009.
[3] Text by Thomas Obediah Chisholm, Music by William Marion Runyan, “Great Is Thy Faithfulness.” Carol Stream, IL: Hope Publishing Company. Copyright 1923, renewal 1951.
[4] American Folk Hymn, 1811
[5] Custin James, Carolyn, “The Gospel of Ruth, Loving God Enough to Break the Rules.” Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2008, page 115.
[6] Coffin, William Sloane, The Collected Sermons of William Sloane Coffin, The Riverside Years, Volume 1, Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008, page 354.