Starting Small

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall Texas on Reformation Sunday October 31, 2010, the 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time.

Habakkuk 1:1-4, 2:1-4
Psalm 119:137-144
2Thessalonians 1:1-4, 11-12
Luke 19:1-10

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

Scripture is filled with wondrous messages and warnings about children and the little ones. In Luke 17 we read, “Jesus said to his disciples: ‘Things that cause people to sin are bound to come, but woe to that person through whom they come. It would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around his neck than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin.’”

Luke 18 tells us, “People were also bringing babies to Jesus to have him touch them. When the disciples saw this, they rebuked them. But Jesus called the children to him and said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth; anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.’”

What is fascinating is that Jesus spoke of these categories of people separately; the little ones and the children. They are not the same.[1] When Luke’s gospel spoke of the little children in chapter 18 he truly meant the little children, but the references in chapter 17 did not. In the chapters before the presentation of the little children, Jesus was speaking with adults about adults; there were no children in these passages. This is a little confusing, and certainly is different from what I had thought all my life, but when Jesus was talking about “little ones,” he was not talking about children.

We need to ask ourselves what did Jesus mean when talking about “the little ones?” but we’ll get back to that. First though, I want us to look at something that everyone wants to joyfully consider on a sunny Sunday morning, what it meant to be a tax collector in ancient Jericho.

Now of course, public services are a necessary part of life and they have to be paid for and we pay for them through taxes. On Thursday, Marie and I got tags and paid the registration for our car. Part of the privilege of this was paying the Title Application Fee, the Texas Mobility Fund Fee, the TERP Fee, the Sales Tax Fee, the Windshield Sticker Fee, the Registration Fee with DPS, the Reflectorization Fee (this fee is so new that Microsoft Word doesn’t even consider “reflectorization” a word), the County Road Bridge Fee, and the Automation Fee for a Large City. What caused me to raise an eyebrow about these fees is that we didn’t either buy or sell a vehicle and we paid $90 in sales tax, so they’re going to hear from me tomorrow morning.

So given my question and the way they’re “going to hear from me tomorrow morning;” maybe, just maybe, the only thing worse than paying taxes is collecting them. I believe anyone working in the county assessor’s office would agree with this.

It just can’t be a joy to collect taxes. The very words “Tax Collector” cause even the most honest and diligent to shudder. But at least we don’t pay our taxes to some middle manager who runs a private state sanctioned tax collection service. This is how taxes were collected in the hinterlands of first century Rome.

Imagine how this would work on the local level today… Imagine local businesses being told to pony up the expected taxes for November today, the last day on October. In this system the collector begins by having to figure out the assessment. You have to begin with the expected revenue, and of course the collector is going to estimate high while the businesses will estimate low. Then the sales tax rates begin with 6.25% for the great state of Texas, then here in Marshall there’s another 2% split between the city, the county, transit taxes, and any Special Purpose Districts. Don’t feel bad though, if each of these special assessments were maxed out, we would be paying an extra 6.50% instead of just 2%. Imagine; there could be some places in Texas where special taxes can cost even more than the state’s 6.25% sales tax collection, but back to what we do have to pay.

So here in Marshall a business owner would need to fork over 8.25% of the tax collector’s expected revenue before one dollar of real revenue was raised or risk having the doors closed. While my little example begins with sales taxes, this isn’t the only tax assessed against local businesses that would be collected on the spot. If the business sells gasoline or alcohol there are taxes on those products that come out on top of regular sales taxes. Add the assessments against payroll; Medicare, Medicaid, and the Social Security Administration as they come in for their share of the pie. Then comes an assessment on real property, including land, building, inventory and so on. Then if you deal in tires, car batteries and hazardous materials; don’t forget the disposal fees that will need to be collected. I’ve failed to mention the collection of Federal Income Taxes, but at least Texas doesn’t have a state income tax or that would be collected too.

So now imagine you’re the person whose job it is to collect all of the taxes and see that it goes off to the proper bureaucrats at the seats of government. In ancient Rome, these taxes had to be paid by the collector in advance, so in my example, you can’t collect the taxes the day before they’re due because they have to get to Rome by the first of the month; postmarked by the 15^th isn’t good enough, oh no. So if you are the tax collector, you had better collect the all of the taxes early and often. Then you should even collect a bit more as a cushion because if they don’t get paid, it’s coming out of your pocket. The good news for the tax collector is that in the months where collections exceeded the estimate, the surplus is profit. That profit is salary.

As a first century assessor, collector, and clerk, Zacchaeus was in charge of gathering the taxes for Rome. As the head tax collector he was responsible for paying the estimated taxes to Rome in advance, and then collecting the taxes.[2] Of course, this becomes a losing proposition for a collector when people don’t pay their taxes because you can’t tell that to Rome. Rome says pay up and the head tax collector pays up, in advance.

This is why first century tax collectors would gouge the people who actually paid their taxes. They knew there would be some fat times and some lean times, so they made sure there was more than enough fat to cover the lean.[3]

It almost gives you a grain of pity for the hard work faced by the first century tax collector. Almost. Then again, it almost sounds like a protection racket. Almost.

Zacchaeus was a man. He was a head tax collector and he was short and he was rich and he was reviled by his people. And like every other tax collector, he overcharged the taxes he collected because he knew what could happen if he didn’t. But as a head tax collector, he had junior collectors who did the dirty work with the people while he did the work with the big boys in Rome. And through this, he became rich. And as a Jew, a son of Abraham, he was truly reviled by his people who made him rich doing Rome’s dirty work.

He was a collaborator. He was not a patriot.

As for our reading today, Zacchaeus was a wee little man and a wee little man was he. The glorious children’s song[4] tells us this and that’s what our gospel reading tells us, though in far less subtle terms. Our reading from the New International Version says without any subtlety that Zacchaeus was a short man. What’s interesting, at least to me, is that the New Revised Standard version says that he was short in stature and the New American Standard Bible says he was small in stature.

As I said earlier, “small” didn’t mean “young” or “child.” It meant small in a descriptive way, or as a noun it would be rendered “little ones” like in Luke 17. What did it mean to be little? Who were the little ones?

Well, Zacchaeus was pushed around by the crowds, so he could well have been physically tiny. The Greek word in the original transcript doesn’t exclude this definition, and it is surely the most common. So maybe Zacchaeus was the “Before” picture in the Charles Atlas ads. For those of you who don’t know Charles Atlas, that would be a PX-90 ad.

But being small could also mean being less, pitiable even. Jesus used the same word to describe the Rabbis, and surely they would not been confused with the seven dwarves as a group. Jesus used this word to describe their theology and polity as immature. They were small men trapped into a small world view making small decisions in a world that demanded more. The word had an edge of weakness to it, meaning that the entire being of a man was small and wretched; not just his stature.

So in a wonderful way, Luke might have been describing Zacchaeus as a physically short man, but also as a man who was small in more ways than just his height. The kind of man, the kind of Roman collaborator that could be shoved around and nobody would even want to come to his aid. Nobody would even care.

Yet attached to this word is a wonderful hope, a leaning toward a secret, concealed inner or future dignity.[5] Being small does not mean being small forever. Being small can be like a tiny acorn which can grow into the mighty oak, and Zacchaeus demonstrated this growth with his Lord.

So what made Zacchaeus right with God?

We read on and we read that Zacchaeus was overjoyed. Despite the snarky comments made by the people around him, those who call this tax collector a sinner; knowing the contempt they held for him in their heart, he gladly welcomed Jesus to his home. And Jesus followed.

Then, along the way, even before they reached the tax collector’s home, Zacchaeus stopped and announced his repentance, turning from taking taxes in excess. He cried out, “Half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.” Then Jesus declared, “Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham; for the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.”

So now we have the formula, give stuff to the poor, make reparations to those you injure, and salvation will come to your house. This is how we get right with God!

Not so fast.

This leap is easy to make, people often think you have to be “good enough” to get into heaven, or even be “good enough” before going to church. People often think you have to make up for your sins before Jesus can save you, but this is not so. In Ephesians, Paul writes, “For it is by grace you have been saved through faith.” We are not saved by our actions; we are saved by the actions of God in Christ. Through what Jesus did, his life, his death, his resurrection, by his work and Word are we saved.

So what of Zacchaeus’ response? So what of his repentance? Oswald Chambers says it well in this entry from his devotional work, “My Utmost for His Highest”:

“It is not repentance that saves me—repentance is only the sign that I realize what God has done through Christ Jesus. The danger here is putting the emphasis on the effect, instead of on the cause. Is it my obedience, consecration, and dedication that make me right with God? It is never that! I am made right with God because, prior to all of that, Christ died. When I turn to God and by belief accept what God reveals, the miraculous atonement by the Cross of Christ instantly places me into a right relationship with God.”[6]

So it wasn’t what Zacchaeus did, it was what Jesus did and continues to do. Zacchaeus responded, and he responded well giving to the poor and making reparations to those he injured.

On this Reformation Sunday, this is one of the great truths we learn. We can do nothing to earn our salvation. It is by grace through faith that we are saved. Jesus saves not despite who we are, but because of who we are. For Zacchaeus it is because he is a son of Abraham, for us it is because we are God’s people.

Yet if we stopped there, we would be taking that grace, that salvation, and handling it as cheaply as fallen leaves. Not only do we need salvation, we need to respond to our salvation. We need to add our obedience, our consecration, and our dedication for a full relationship with God.

One of the ways we do that is by following Christ’s lead. As Christ before us, we need to seek out and find those who are small, the little ones, because as we know from Luke 17, it is “better for him to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around his neck than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin.”

We need to start small. We need to find those who have been shoved to the margins of polite society. While the small are commonly poor and distressed, they may be rich and distressed like Zacchaeus. We need to greet them and meet them as Jesus did. We need to reach out to the small ones because there is hope that as we respond to our salvation, we can help others respond to theirs. This works both ways too; there is hope that as we help others respond to their salvation, we may respond to ours.

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[1] Kittel, Gerhard, The Theological Dictionary of the New Testament.” Vol. iv. Geoffrey W. Gromiley, Translator and Editor. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, page 659.

[2] Bamberger, B. J., “Tax Collector,” in “The Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible.” George Arthur Buttrick, Dictionary Editor. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1962, 21st Printing 1992, electronic version 2004.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Reference to the Zacchaeus song can be found at http://www.ebibleteacher.com/children/songs.htm#Zacchaeus. Videos of the performance of Zacchaeus can be found at http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=zacchaeus+song&aq=3. Both retrieved October 27, 2010.

[5] Kittel, page 652

[6] Chambers, Oswald, “My Utmost for His Highest, An Updated Edition in Today’s Language.” James Reinmann, Editor. Grand Rapids, MI: RBC Ministries for the Oswald Chambers Publications Association, Ltd., October 28 entry.

Gideon Sunday Children's Sermon

Sunday October 24, 2010 was celebrated as Gideon Sunday in many churches in East Texas. We thank our local Gideon camp for sending a wonderful speaker who brought the Gideon Report to First Presbyterian Church--Marshall.

So instead of the sermon, I brought the Children's sermon.

When the children came forward I asked one little girl to read from my bible the first sentence: In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.

She did such a wonderful job, that I handed her another bible and asked her to do it again. She looked at me and laughed, she said that she couldn't read what I had handed her. I told her to give it another try, but she could not. Well, considering I handed her a copy of the Hebrew scriptures I could hardly blame her for not being able to read it. Shoot, it took me long enough to be able to read it.

Then I gave her another bible and asked her to read it. She said she couldn't read that one either. I asked her if the letters were more recognizable and she said they were, but she still couldn't read it. Since I handed her a Greek New Testament, I didn't figure she could. But she did notice that a lot of the letters were closer to what she knew.

So I handed her one more bible, this one a Santa Biblia. While it was more and more familiar, she still couldn't read that.

I then told all of the kids that it is wonderful that we have bibles in languages that we can understand, and this is one of the things Gideons do, they distribute bibles in many different native languages, from Arabic to Vietnamese. This way people all around the world can see and read the word of God in their own language.

Then we thanked God that we had bibles in our languages and that because of the Gideons, bibles in many languages are shared with people seeking the word around the world.

BIG G, little g

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday October 17, 2010, the 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time.

Jeremiah 31:27-34
Psalm 119:97-104

2Timothy 3:14-4:5
Luke 18:1-8

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

Ancient Babylon had its stories, its own myths about their gods. Their creation story was written between 3,500 and 4,000 years ago and is found in a set of ancient writings called the Enuma Elish. The Babylonian creation myth is known as the story of Marduk and Tiamat.[1]

The story begins when Apsu, the god of fresh waters, and Tiamat, the goddess of the salt oceans, and Mummu, the god of the mist that rises from both of them, were still mingled as one. There were no mountains, there was no pasture land, and not even a reed-marsh could be found to break the surface of the waters.

Apsu and Tiamat became the forbearers of a host of gods including a great-grandson named Ea. Ea was the cleverest of the gods and with his magic became the most powerful of the gods, ruling even his ancestors.

Eventually, these gods caused such a ruckus that Apsu proposed to Tiamat that he kill all of their descendants. Tiamat did not favor this plan, but Apsu decided to set it into motion despite her objections.

Ea and his siblings became aware of these plans so he hatched a scheme of his own. He cast a spell on Apsu, and pulling Apsu’s crown from his head he slew him. Ea then built his palace on Apsu’s waters. It was there that, with the goddess Damkina, he fathered Marduk, the four-eared, four-eyed giant who was god of the rains and storms.

The other gods, however, went to Tiamat and complained that Ea had slain her husband. Aroused, she collected an army of dragons and monsters, and at its head she placed the god Kingu, to whom she gave magical powers as well. Even Ea was at a loss how to combat such a host, until he finally called on his son Marduk. Marduk gladly agreed to take on his father’s battle, on the condition that he, Marduk, would rule the gods after achieving this victory. The other gods agreed, and at a banquet they gave him his royal robes and scepter.

Marduk armed himself with a bow and arrows, a club, and lightning, and he went in search of Tiamat’s monstrous army. Rolling his thunder and storms in front him, he attacked, and Kingu’s battle plan soon disintegrated. Tiamat was left alone to fight Marduk, and she howled as they closed for battle. They struggled as Marduk caught her in his nets. When she opened her mouth to devour him, he filled it with the evil wind that served him. She could not close her mouth with his gale blasting into it. He shot an arrow down her throat splitting her heart, and she was slain.

After subduing the rest of her host, he took his club and split Tiamat’s water-laden body in half like a clam shell. Half he put in the sky and made the heavens, and he posted guards there to make sure that Tiamat’s salt waters could not escape. Across the heavens he made stations in the stars for the gods, and he made the moon and set it forth on its schedule across the heavens. From the other half of Tiamat’s body he made the land, which he placed over Apsu’s fresh waters, which now arise in wells and springs. From her eyes he made flow the Tigris and Euphrates creating a fertile valley. Across this land he made the grains and herbs, the pastures and fields, the rains and the seeds, the cows and ewes, and the forests and the orchards.

Marduk set the vanquished gods who had supported Tiamat to a variety of tasks, including work in the fields and canals. Soon they complained of their work and they rebelled burning their spades and baskets. Marduk saw a solution to their labors, though, and proposed it to his father Ea. He had Kingu, Tiamat’s general, brought forward from the ranks of the defeated gods, and Kingu was slain. With Kingu’s blood, with clay from the earth, and with spittle from the other gods, Ea and the birth-goddess Nintu created humans. On them Ea imposed the labor previously assigned to the gods. Thus the humans were set to maintain the canals and boundary ditches, to hoe and to carry, to irrigate the land and to raise crops, to raise animals and fill the granaries, and to worship the gods at their regular festivals.

This is the story of Marduk and Tiamat.

Now, the creation story we are familiar with from Genesis begins with a God whose love is so great that humanity is created to share that love. Humanity, we were created to be in relationship with God and to love God. Our world is not the remains of a dispatched goddess. We aren’t made of the stuff of yet another slain god. We aren’t substitutes for gods who went on strike for better wages or working conditions, or whatever reasons gods go on strike.

Let me just say, and I trust that you agree, I prefer the Hebrew creation story found to the Babylonian every day of the week and twice on Sunday. Created in a loving relationship by the Lord God is far better than being created as slaves of a demigod.

God whose name we spell with a “big G,” the Lord our God is to be loved and yes feared too. Those Babylonian gods, gods we spell with a “little g,” they simply were to be feared. This is the difference between the God Jesus refers to and the parable’s judge, the lord of the manor, a god over his own land.

This judge was the lord of his land. He had the power of life and death over his subjects. He didn’t fear God (with a big G) nor did he have respect for his people. He must have been a very powerful man and quite a piece of work. The way this judge reined his power would have made Marduk proud, but he had one thorn in his side, a woman seeking justice against her opponent.

Now the woman of this parable must have been some kind of persistent. A single woman would have had no social status in the ancient near east of this parable, and considering she was complaining to a man who had no regard for anybody, she must have been quite a thorn in his side. Actually, what is written in our bible “so that she won’t wear me out” can be translated as “so that she won’t keep beating me in the face,” which is several levels above merely annoying.

So because according to the parable she was such a pain in the neck, both figuratively and literally, she received justice. Jesus then compares this to the Lord God who will grant justice quickly to the ones who cry out to the Lord.

Let me just say, and I trust that you agree, I prefer the justice of the Lord our God to this little tin god every day of the week and twice on Sunday. Created in a loving relationship by the Lord God is far better than being slaves of a demigod.

Little tin gods; this expression comes from a poem called “Public Waste”[2] by Rudyard Kipling, the author of “Captains Courageous” and “The Jungle Book.” This poem is about Exeter Battleby Tring, an expert railway-surveyor who was the obvious candidate to manage “The Railways of State.” But since he did not come from the right social bracket; “the Little Tin Gods” gave him what CEO’s today call a “golden parachute” and appointed “a Colonel from Chatham” in his place. The reader who was not a part or the rich and elite could appreciate the frustration of Battleby Tring who was more qualified, but not one of them.

Here were the “little g” gods treating those around them like slaves created by the blood of lesser gods. Here were the “little g” gods who had neither regard for God with a “big G” nor respect for any of the people. In our gospel reading we are presented with a god of the manor who have what the world considers power over people and events and the Lord who is the King of Glory. The world has them both and it is up to the church, it is up to us to praise one and hold the other’s feet to the fire.

Scott McClellan writes about the “little g” gods of American politics in his book “What Happened?” He talks about how American politics has shifted from using power to change things and make them better to a position of gaining power for the sake of having power. He talks about a model of governing called “the permanent campaign” where governing is forsaken in exchange for maintaining power within one political party.

Let me take a little aside and say that McClellan was a George W. Bush insider and the theory of “permanent campaign” was created by Patrick Caddell, an advisor to Jimmy Carter. If how the people who govern us are guilty of this sin as McClellan says, it is not the property of one side of the political aisle or the other, it belongs to both. I like to say it like this, in government there are not too many Democrats or too many Republicans, but there are far too many politicians. Little tin gods are little tin gods whether they come from Kipling or from Babylon, red states or blue states.

Jesus says that the unjust judge will give the woman justice just to relieve his own discomfort. Our God will grant justice for his chosen ones who cry out to him out of love. But then he asks, when the Son of Man comes will he find faith on earth? For our Lord to find faith, we will need to be faithful to the God who loves and gives graciously, not the gods who want only fear and slavery, so we need to discern the differences between the two.

The Royal Canadian Mounted Police, the Canadian agency that has the responsibility for among other things detecting counterfeit money, has a very specialized training program. What they do not do is study the many, many ways counterfeiters find to copy currency. They do not study the latest trends in how criminals copy inks and make plates to create fake bills. They take the opposite approach. Instead of learning how fakes look, they study real Canadian dollar bills. These agents scrupulously study their own money. They study every little piece and nuance of their bills, the images, the inks, the typefaces, even the feel and smell of real money. This way they become intimately familiar with what real money looks and feels like.

They find it’s easy to spot a counterfeit when you know the real stuff.

For us, this is a lesson to be learned in finding the differences between gods, those we look at as “big G” Gods and “little g” gods. By being able to recognize God in our lives, we are better able to recognize the idols of our life and time; idols which make demands upon us like the gods of ancient times.

We find God in our scriptures. It is in the stories of our faith that we learn that the loving God wants a relationship with creation. It is in holy writ that we find an overflowing God who creates in abundance, not out of a need for slaves. It is in the Psalms and in our Call to Worship this morning[3] that we learn of God’s law and how it makes us wiser than our enemies because it is always with us.

Paul’s second letter to Timothy makes this point as he implores the young man to continue in what he has learned and firmly believed, knowing from whom he learned it. Paul reminds Timothy that all scripture is useful for teaching and training so that all who belong to God will be equipped for every good work. Paul even says that it is Christ Jesus who is the judge of the living, not some self-declared deity, someone who has made themselves an idol to be worshiped like a little tin god.

So yes, in our world, a world that no longer worships Marduk or Tiamat or Zeus or Apollo or any of the gods of ancient societies, we have “little g” gods of our own. So we are called to work like the Mounties and know who God is so that we will not be taken by false gods that come our way. We are called to seek God in scripture and in prayer. When we do this that we will be found faithful by the Son of Man when he comes again in glory. In Him, in his blood and righteousness alone is our hope.

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[1] The stories of Marduk and Tiamat can be found in Matthews, Victor H., and Benjamin, Don C. “Old Testament Parallels, Laws and Stories from the Ancient Near East.” Third Edition. New York: Paulist Press, 2006, pages 11-21 and at http://www.gly.uga.edu/railsback/CS/CSMarduk.html, retrieved October 15, 2010.

[2] Text of “Public Waste” can be found at http://www.readbookonline.net/readOnLine/2774/, retrieved October 15, 2010.

[3] Psalm 65

Telling Stories

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday October 10, 2010, the 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time.

Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7
Psalm 66:1-12
2Timothy 2:8-15
Luke 17:11-19

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

When Marie and I started dating, she was living in Grand Rapids, Michigan and I was living in Lamar, Colorado. She asked me what I was planning to do over the Fourth of July and I told her that I was planning on going to Central Missouri to see my parents. She said that she would love to meet my parents.

By the way, Marie says that she did not invite herself like I tell the story. But hey, I’m the one telling the story. So let’s continue…

I was taken aback. I had met Marie’s mom a couple of months earlier when I went to Grand Rapids, and I wanted her to meet the folks, but I was taken aback. There was a difference between “someday” and “today” and the sudden realization that someday was becoming today surprised me. Cool as a cucumber though, I said, “Sure, that would be great.”

So I got to Mexico, MO a few days before Marie’s coming. The folks were excited to meet her. They had never met “a girlfriend” before and since I was in my early 30’s they were just thrilled that I might not die alone.

The closest major airport was in St. Louis and that’s where Marie was flying into. About three hours before her flight was due to arrive, my dad said, “Get up Paul, let’s get ready to go.” I raised an eyebrow and said, “Well, I was planning on leaving in about a half hour.” “Nope, we’re going now.”

Here I am, thinking I’m a fully grown man, and I figured I could drive to Lambert Field and get Marie myself. Nope, we’re going now. “Er, Dad, I know how to get to the airport.” “Nope we’re going now and I’m driving.” There was nothing I could say to him; we were going to the airport and he was driving.

So we get Marie and her bags with no complications and we get in the van and head back to the homestead.

Now, something you need to know about my father is that he had a lot of little rules we had to follow. One of those rules was “Get my attention before talking to me.” So every time we wanted to say anything to him, we would have to begin by saying, “Hey, Dad.” He would then say “what” or something and then conversation could begin. He said it prevented a lot of repeating. The upshot of this, whenever talking with my dad, everything would begin with getting his attention.

Well, Marie is sitting in the back seat of the van, I’m riding shotgun, and Dad is driving. Suddenly Marie says, “Hey!” I turn around, look her in the eye, and ask, “What?” She takes her right hand, points out the window, and says “Hay!” It was time for a cutting and the huge rounds of hay were in the fields. Hay. There it was, big as life, hay, and I had been had. The smile on her face and the glint in her eye was something to be seen.

It could be a couple of hours from St. Louis to Mexico depending on the traffic around the airport and in the county around St. Louis, so we had been on the road a while. Suddenly, Marie cries out from the backseat, “Hey!” I turn around again and ask “What?” You see where this is going don’t you? Well I didn’t.

She points again; this time with her left, and says “There’s hay on this side of the highway too.” Marie is laughing at me, not really hard, but she was loving every minute of it. What I finally noticed was the look on my father’s face. He was trying so hard not to laugh out loud, not because he didn’t want to embarrass his little boy; I imagine he feared losing control of the car doing 70 on I-70.

When my mother heard the story, she was so proud of Marie. The family discovered that I had met my match.

Stories, I absolutely love stories. I love to tell stories. I love to listen to stories. I love to see how people’s faces change when they tell stories. When you hear people tell stories about their families you can see the love and the joy in their eyes and their smiles. Voices pick up in ways you just don’t get when going over the shopping list.

Stories are the narrative of who we are, they are the ways we share what is important to us. There are little nuances that come from stories that come from no communication. For example, in my little story you can tell that Marie is smarter than I am. (I don’t know if this is when I finally realized it, but at least I do realize it and that’s a start.) You can see that I have been well trained by my father. Even three years after his death, more than twenty years since I have lived under his roof, and I still “get your attention” before I begin to chat with you. You might even say that if you train me well enough, I’m obedient. Finally if nothing else, you can tell that, yes, I love stories.

So imagine our gospel story told by the tenth leper. One of ten who were at the side of the road, of course they weren’t too close to the road. They were required to keep their distance; their shouts of “unclean” kept the unsuspecting traveler from being exposed to their ritual impurity. Still they were close enough to recognize Jesus and the circus train that was with him along the border betwwen Samaria and Galilee.

So they cried out to him, “Jesus, Master, have pity on us!” What happens next? Jesus tells them “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” He doesn’t say “You are healed.” He doesn’t wave his hands. He doesn’t use water or balm of any sort. Nothing! He just tells them “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” An obedient sort, they go to present themselves to the priests. Then somewhere along the way they are cleansed. Then one, just one turns, finds Jesus, and gives thanks.

As our reading ends, Jesus does not remind him to go show himself to the priest, but he doesn’t tell him not to go to the priest. I’ve called him obedient, so let’s say that he is going to follow the first direction Jesus gave him, he’s going to show himself to the priest.

Imagine the cleansed man telling this story to the priest. “Hey, I was with those nine other guys you saw earlier. You should have seen us, we were ragged, unclean; we were a plight on our families. Then we see that Jesus guy, you know, the one everyone is talking about. Well we see him and we call out to him. We ask for compassion, we ask for pity, and he tells all ten of us to come and show ourselves to you.

“I mean, there was nothing. He didn’t do anything, he just told us to come see you. We didn’t know quite why, but hey, we would do as we were told. Suddenly, along the way, it happened, we were cleansed. I’m not quite sure when it happened, I really don’t know how it happened, but I know who made it happen, it was Jesus.

“Well, my mother always told me to be grateful, to give thanks, so I went back and found Jesus and fell at his feet and gave praise in a loud voice. I mean I gave THANKS and it was in a LOUD VOICE. Then he wondered where the other nine were. He even made a point to tell everyone who was travelling with him that I was a Samaritan, someone who was not a part of the nation of Judah. Then he told me to rise up and go. He said it was my faith that saved me.”

You might notice that I took a turn away from the text as it’s found in our English bibles. Most English language bibles render this sentence from verse nineteen “your faith has made you well.” Gloriously, this passage could just as easily be translated “your faith has saved you.”

The Samaritan tells the story of what Jesus has done for him. Jesus has made him clean; not for anything the Samaritan did, not for who he was, just for being a child of God and asking; Jesus made him clean. Unmerited favor, this is what we call grace. And through his faith he is saved. Today we still say that we are saved by grace though faith.

So what does this story tell us?

It tells us that Jesus heals and that Jesus saves.

It tells us that being grateful for what we have received is important.

Well, as I just said it tells us that the Samaritan was saved by grace through faith.

It also tells us that even the despised foreigner, which is what the Samaritans were in the eyes of the Jews, even the despised foreigner is a recipient of God’s good grace. We are even told to pray for their enemies, as Jeremiah told the exiles to pray for Babylon.

These last two items can be difficult for us to absorb, but what we would consider “difficult” is occasionally used by God in ways and for reasons we cannot fathom.

Jeremiah makes this point. The nation of Judah is taken to Babylon and the exile will be difficult. There is a prophet who says that the exile will not last long. Jeremiah says no. He says that the Lord of Hosts says build a house. Build a house? Why build a house if it’s going to be only a short time in exile? Exactly, it’s not going to be short, build a house. Sometimes, the word of the Lord is not what we want to hear.

Sometimes the Word of the Lord is “it’s gonna take some time this time.” Sometimes it’s that the despised Samaritan is the one who shows the gratitude all God’s people should show.

How important is the story of the grateful leper? Well, it’s important enough that Luke recorded it in his gospel. It’s important because it shows us how people responded to meeting our Lord. It’s important because even 2,000 years later, it still means something to us. It’s a story that is a benchmark story of the faith, particularly for the outsiders. It helps us define and share our faith.

In the notes from a congregational meeting, one of the things on this congregation’s wish list is that there be more witnessing. It may seem too obvious a question, but what do we witness? Well, the answer is that we witness Christ crucified, this is the story of our faith. We are to tell the world of our savior Jesus the Christ and what God intends for all creation. Well, that can be a mouthful. Some people have difficulty talking about it, I mean where do we start?

Well, if the story of our faith is Christ crucified, then the stories of our faith is where our lives cross this story. As a congregation we have several stories.

One of the stories of this congregation is the story behind “The Church of the Bells.”

It was almost twenty-five years ago that Elder Jesse Walker presented his dream of the Christmas bells to the Session beginning a special ministry that coincides with the city's Wonderland of Lights. When Mr. Walker told the Session what he envisioned, and the dimensions were worked out, and he was told that it would be well over twelve feet tall and nearly fifty feet long, he excitedly said “Yes, that’s just what I have in mind!” The goal was to complete 100 bells by June 30 and members young and old worked joyfully for six months to meet the deadline. Then it was time to work the next task, making the bells move when music is added. Then a third elder made the stereo clarion bells ring out with joyous music proclaiming the birth of the Savior.

What a proclamation to the community! The music and the lights, the setting and the bells; and people come by and see that there is a church in downtown Marshall that believes in the glory of the incarnation of Christ, the living person of God who came as a baby 2,000 years ago to live and show us how to live; and to die and show us how to live.

What a glorious story of this congregation.

I have one more story to share. A few months after meeting my parents, when I was still living in Lamar, Colorado, Marie decided to move to Colorado Springs. She thought (Hoped? Prayed?) I would eventually wise up and propose to her. She gave me a year to come to my senses. (It didn’t take that long, thank God.) So I went out to Michigan to help load the truck and help drive the nearly 1,300 miles in the U-Haul.

Now, something I learned dating Marie is that when she travels on the highway; when she stops, she stops at fast food restaurants. The restaurants are cleaner and there is someplace clean to eat and drink if you want. I tend to go to odd truck stops for the exact same reasons, fast food restaurants may be cleaner, but they are far less interesting.

Along the way, Marie said to me that she was thirsty and could stand to go through a drive-thru. I told her that I didn’t want to drive a U-Haul in a drive-thru, but the biggest truck stop in central Missouri was less than ten miles ahead, it was clean and we could stop there.

Then Marie said to me, “I didn’t say that.” As I was about to say, “Yes you did, you said…” Marie said, “I was thinking it, but I didn’t say it.” The look on my face must have been something else. So what did I learn from this? For me, this was as if God was looking right at me and saying, “All right boy, now that I’ve got your attention, ‘Listen to me, and don’t mess this up.’ ”

When people ask us what being a Christian means to us, we could talk about what God does for humanity, but without a personal connection telling the story may be just so many words that have been learned and spoken by rote again and again. It is where our lives intersect God’s purposes that important things happen, and it is when we share these stories with others that people can connect with us and with God.

So when people ask what it means to be a Christian, we need to learn how to say, “Well let me tell you a story…” God gives us a word to share with one another. Listen to the stories of God in your life, and share the word of the Lord.

Oh, the Places We'll Go

Dear friends and followers,
Thank you for your patience and your prayers. Marie and I have finally (happily! joyfuly!) arrived in Marshall, Texas and have begun serving as Pastor and Spouse. Today was my first Sunday in the pulpit at First Presbyterian and worship was glorious. So with no further ado...

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday October 3, 2010, the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time.

Lamentations 1:1-6, 3:19-26
Psalm 137
2Timothy 1:1-14
Luke 17:5-10

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

In literature, there are two models of optimism. One of them is Don Quixote. Quixote is the Man of La Mancha; he is the one who tries to cure the ills of his society through acts of chivalry. While part one is written as a farce, written to see how comical the life of a chivalrous man is when seen through the eyes of sensible readers, the second part is more serious and is focused on deception. The noble, if not a little mentally unhinged “Man of La Mancha,” becomes aware of how the world perceives him and how his nobility is mocked by those around him. Even his squire, the faithful Sancho Panza, makes sport of his master. While accidental, Panza’s deceit shatters Don Quixote. Eventually, the noble knight falls into a melancholy which is only “cured” when he regains his mental health. He dies a sane yet broken man. Alas, the tragedy of a broken man who realized he was a better man when he lived his delusions.

The other great model of optimism is Pollyanna. Pollyanna is a young orphan sent to live with her rich but stern Aunt Polly in Vermont. Pollyanna’s gift is that she can see the bright side of every situation through what she calls “The Glad Game,” an optimistic attitude she learned from her father. Her attitude and the game eventually rub off on the entire town and people begin to see their lives as half full rather than empty and futile. This is even true when Pollyanna is hit by a car and looses use of her legs. After some turmoil, Pollyanna finds her silver lining and is glad that she once had legs.

If there is one difference between these two literary optimisms it is this:

Quixote’s optimism is based on something inside of him, his chivalry and people’s reactions to it. Ultimately it becomes unrealistic; a foolishly impractical pursuit of principles marked with rash and lofty romantic ideals. Pollyanna’s optimism is based on gratefulness for what she has, which has nothing to do with other’s reactions. It’s not that she doesn’t realize that she is in hot soup; she knows that life can be harsh, especially for an orphan who goes to live with an aunt that doesn’t particularly want to become her guardian. It’s just that she knows what is good in her life and she chooses to celebrate goodness instead of pain.

Quixote tried to make grand gestures, he tilted at windmills; this is where we get the expression “tilting at windmills.” He tried to change great things by great acts. Pollyanna changed lives around her simply by counting her meager blessings and sharing them with others until thankfulness prevailed.

I mention this because of how it relates to our reading from Lamentations this morning.

The Jews call the book of Lamentations “Eikha” or in English, “How.” In this book of scripture, Jeremiah, on behalf of the Jews, cries to the Lord how horribly their world is crumbling around them. It’s a tragic time for the community. Jerusalem has become like a widow who mourns at the loss of her protector. She was a princess in the Lord’s world, but now she is merely another slave. Exile will be difficult, ripe with suffering and hard servitude. There will be no resting place; no place to rest, eat, or drink. The nation’s gates are desolate and its foes will become its master. The nation’s enemies will prosper and Judah will suffer.

This is how the book of Lamentations begins, with a full recitation of the woes of the nation of Judah beginning with the question “How lonely sits the city that once was full of people?”

Yet on the same scroll Jeremiah’s words come, words realizing that while even the thought of affliction and homelessness is wormwood and gall, there is one truth that comes to mind. There is one thought that will keep the people even in the midst of their exile: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end, they are new every morning, great is the faithfulness of the Lord.

Jeremiah knows that there is pain and struggle and strife, he has been prophesying this very pain, struggle and strife for a long, long time. The people just mocked him as he told them a hard rain was going to come and there was only one place to find an umbrella.

Jeremiah is not like Don Quixote who hopes and prays that the works of people, even good works by well meaning people, will make a difference. He is more like Pollyanna who knows that there is good; and in the case of Jeremiah, knows the source of all that is good is in the name of the Lord.

It is Pollyanna who takes even the smallest blessings of her life and makes them so that they become blessings for the world around her. It is through her attitude and her actions that she can see the blessings of the bleak world around her. As the Apostles cry out to Jesus asking for more faith, it is our Lord and Savior who says that even the smallest amount of faith, faith the size of a mustard seed, can do unimaginably mighty things.

So today, with our faith the size of a mustard seed, we are able to see and live the future that the Hebrews couldn’t even imagine in exile. Today we join with Christians around the globe and celebrate the meal that brings us all together. World Communion Sunday originated at the Shadyside Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh by The Rev. Dr. Donald Kerr in 1933. This was the darkest year of the Great Depression. The storm clouds of Nazism and Fascism hovered over Europe and threatened the entire world. As a faith response to these concerns, a group of leaders at Shadyside Presbyterian Church sought to do something both real and symbolic to proclaim that God is God indeed, in spite of politics, economics and future shock.

Still in our time when the Great Recession has been declared over by those who no longer suffer its effects, and still in our time when men and women fight oppression and terror overseas and at home paying the ultimate price for their work on behalf of a grateful nation where we reap the benefits of their sacrifice; still it is time for us to do what is both real and symbolic to proclaim to the world that God is God indeed. In the words of Dr. Kerr, “[World Communion Sunday] emphasized [sic] that we are one in the Spirit and the Gospel of Jesus Christ.”

According to our very own Book of Common Worship, “The [Lord’s Supper] was given by Christ himself. Before church governments were devised, before creeds were formalized, even before the first word of the New Testament was written, the Lord's Supper was firmly fixed at the heart of Christian faith and life. From the church's inception, the Lord's Day and the Lord's Supper were joined. Along with the reading and proclamation of the scripture, the supper has given witness to God's redemptive acts each Lord's Day, giving Christian worship its distinctive shape. In this sacrament, the bread and wine, the words and actions, make the promises of God visible and concrete. The Word proclaimed in scripture and sermon is confirmed, for all that the life, death, and resurrection of Christ means, is focused in the Sacrament.”

It is by this meal shared together with fellow Christians everywhere that we do more than share Dr. Kerr’s vision. It is the meal that nourishes Christians everywhere. It is the meal that our Lord ordained to feed his servants until he comes again in victory.

So today we share this meal, a meal we consider the outward sign of an inward grace. It is by grace through faith, faith the size of a mustard seed, faith the size of a little orphan girl, that we come and share the promise given us for new life in Christ Jesus. We do this for one reason, because in the words of Luke, we do as we are expected to do. To paraphrase the words of the New English Bible in verse ten of our reading from Luke, we are servants doing our duty. Today we do it together in celebration with Christians of all stripes.

We celebrate the Lord’s Supper, doing this in remembrance of our Lord Jesus Christ. We do this also to be fed to do the work of God, going where our Lord sends us, sharing what we are called to share with the world.

“Oh, the Places You’ll Go” was the last book written, illustrated, and published by acclaimed children's author Dr. Seuss before his death in 1991. About life and its challenges and written in the style of classics such as “Green Eggs and Ham” and “The Cat in the Hat,” “Oh, the Places You’ll Go!” is a popular gift for high school and college graduates every year because of its whimsical style and eye to the future. It is perhaps best known for the line, “Will you succeed? Yes, you will indeed. (98 3/4% guaranteed.)”

Oh, the places we’ll go. For Marie and I it is a joy and our distinct privilege to come together with you and share the mission of this part of the body of Christ. We come together with you in the sight of our Lord to do the work that we have all been called to do, and it is by this sacrament that we all come together to be nourished by the Lord our God. Do I know the shape and direction of that ministry today? Well, this I do know: That in the light of God, through discernment of the Holy Spirit, and in the power of our Lord Jesus Christ, all I can say is, “Oh, the places we’ll go.” After all, it’s 98 3/4% guaranteed.

Together we will go into God’s good creation taking the Word with us. As our acolyte Brionna leads us, where a little girl with faith the size of a mustard seed leads, let us go boldly into the world. Let us all take the light of God into the world.