Living into the Comma

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday November 27, 2011, the 1st Sunday in Advent.

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Isaiah 64:1-9

Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19

1 Corinthians 1:3-9

Mark 13:24-27

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

Today is the first Sunday in Advent, and as we just heard, Advent means coming. This is the season when we prepare for the coming of the Lord Jesus into the world. In this month we will celebrate the breaking of the fully divine God of all creation into the weakest of all human forms, a baby born to a single mother in Roman-occupied Judea. We celebrate the Christ, the King of kings and Lord of lords, coming in the most humble of ways. But our Gospel reading doesn’t really point to this coming, it points to another coming.

Advent is from the Latin word for coming, but there is another word that is used for the coming of the Christ, parousia. Parousia is from the Greek word for coming. Because of its appearance in John’s Revelation,[1] it is most often used when describing not the first coming but what we call the second coming of the Lord. Since it is Jesus himself who describes the coming of the Lord in this gospel reading, it makes sense that he is describing not the first, but the second coming of the Lord.

This coming is the source of our Christian hope.

Our hope is not that “things” will come to pass. Yes, Jesus tells us to learn the lessons of the fig tree. He teaches us that we know the signs of the times. We should know what is happening. But this, this knowledge and ability to interpret the signs are not our hope. Our hope is not in what is coming but who is coming.

We do not place our faith in events or in things. We don’t place our faith in stuff or the structures we build; we place our faith in Christ. By the power of the Holy Spirit we place our faith in Christ.

This faith we have is not in some God we do not know. As well as we can know on this side of glory, we worship the God in Christ we know. This is the Christ who came to minister to sinners and to the poor. This is the Christ who defended the widow and orphan and traveler. This is the Christ who opens the kingdom of God to all who come. This is the Christ who came to heal the sick, not rub elbows with the elite. This is the God in Christ who ministers to humanity not despite our sinful nature but because we are his children, the children of God. This is the God who sent his Spirit to be with us, to indwell us, to walk beside us, to give us strength and support until he comes again.

This faith we have is not that the kingdom of God has fully come. Our faith is that we see as Paul said through a mirror darkly. We have seen God’s peace and justice at work, but we know that until he comes again we will not know this peace and justice fully. I have described this as “now and not yet.”

Christ has come, and when he came he emptied himself of his Godly status, becoming subject to the principalities of this life. He became subject to death, even death upon the cross, but Christ conquered death. He allowed himself to be subjected to death so that he could defeat death. He became subject to human justice so that he could bring his perfect justice. Christ has come. Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.

Yet despite this victory in Christ, a truth we know has happened, we know that it is not fully realized in this world. We know death is defeated, yet we face the death of our bodies and our values in a dozen little ways every day. Christ has come. Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. Still we continue to fight the battles Christ has won every day. The victory is won and the battle continues.

When we celebrate Advent we celebrate the coming of the Christ child, the baby Jesus. Today, today when we share this gospel reading we celebrate the Second Advent, the Parousia, the final coming in victory. Yes, we celebrate.

With this coming, with this coming in power, glory, peace, and justice, we do not ponder whether or not this will happen. The greatest hope we have is not if these promises will be fulfilled, but when. We are told that God’s word in Christ by the power of the Spirit will never pass away. We are told that this prophecy will come to pass. Our greatest Christian hope is that this will happen. True, we are not given an indication of when this will happen, but we are promised that it will.

Last week while talking about the sheep and the goats[2] I said, “It’s not up to us to decide who will be saved and who will not because Christ the King makes that decision.” In the same way, none of us knows when Christ will return. The son himself doesn’t even know, but we are not left to wonder if Jesus will come again, we are told he will. In the same breath we are told that he will, but not when. Last week I said “Taking time and energy [to decide who will be saved and who will not] ultimately distracts us doing what we are called to do.” In the same way, wondering when he will return also distracts us doing what we are called to do.

So we are warned to be on guard, to be alert. Like the old church sign says, “Scripture doesn’t say get ready, it says be ready.” Scripture teaches us to keep watch.

One New Testament scholar, a man whose main focus is the gospel of Mark,[3] believes that this gospel should be read backward. Story by story, it should be read from the end to the beginning, from the Resurrection to John the Baptist’s preparations for the coming. Our readings this Advent season reflect this. This week we read from a prophecy of the second coming. Over the next three weeks, we will read from the beginnings of Mark then John then Luke.

This reading shows us that Advent is a time of waiting. It’s a time of preparation. It is the time between when Jesus came and when he comes again. Our readings for Advent reflect this promise, and it reflects them in reverse. We start with the second coming this week and go to the first coming for the rest of Advent.

Last week Marie and I went to the cemetery and visited the mausoleum where Joe McDonald was laid to rest a couple of weeks ago. While I was there I recalled the wonderful stories about Joe’s life. I remember seeing everyone at the funeral home and here for the service. I remember seeing the tributes along with the pictures and scrapbooks. Standing at the wall I remembered the wonderful celebration of Joe’s life as we bore witness to the resurrection. (Service of Witness to the Resurrection is technically what Presbyterians call a funeral service.) There, at that wall, I gave thanks for the witness of his life and the promise of the resurrection.

As all of these glorious thoughts crossed my mind, one thing got stuck. Unless you knew Joe, or any of the saints whose names adorn the stones in the cemetery, all that you would know of their lives is summed up in a dash. Of the hundreds of people, family members, loved ones, and revered citizens whose last resting place is in Colonial Gardens cemetery; unless you know them from local history or in person, their life is summed up in a simple dash, a hyphen. That’s heavy lifting for a little hyphen.

One of the things we did in worship this morning is state what we believe using the words of the Apostles’ Creed. It wasn’t written by the Apostles’, but there is a historical element of the twelve in the creed. When it was written, it was envisioned that each of the twelve wrote one of the affirmations in the creed. So when we share our faith using the creed, it is as though we share the creed with the original twelve apostles and with all Christians throughout the ages.

Liturgy means “work of the people.” Reciting the creed, singing the Gloria and the Doxology, joining in confession and supplication, hearing and responding to the Word, these are just some of the elements that make up the work we do in worship. Worship, framed around the liturgy is our work. Stating what we believe is a part of that work, but there is something missing from the creed.

We say the words that shape our faith, yet we go straight from “born of the Virgin Mary” to “suffered under Pontius Pilate.” The creed takes us from the birth of Jesus to the Passion of the Christ, but speaks nothing of what happened in between. There’s only a comma. The entire life of Jesus of Nazareth, the life of the Christ is summed up in a comma. That’s heavy lifting for a little comma.

The Apostles’ Creed leaves the life and ministry of Jesus in a comma. It’s a shame that’s all there is, but if we were to begin to expand that comma we would have a creed as long as the gospels. John’s gospel even tells us that all of the works of Jesus could not be contained in that book, so in truth that comma can be expanded into something larger than scripture as we know it. So what is in that comma?

In that comma is life. In that comma is hope. Christ lives in that comma, we live in Christ. We are called to live into that comma. Our life and vocation is found living into the comma.

Today, Mark’s gospel invites us to consider the part of our lives that we find in the comma. The part of our lives we find in the hyphen. Looking at stone in the cemetery, all of the hyphens look the same, but we know this is not true. It is up to us to see where the Lord is leading us in this life. It is up to us to live into the comma and that is what makes Christians different from others in this life.

Walter J. Burghardt said, “Here is your Advent: Make the Christ who has come a reality, a living light, in your life and in some other life. Give of yourself… to one dark soul… with no conditions”[4] God leads us to make Christ a reality in our life and the lives of others. It is up to us to follow. It is up to us to live into our dash, to live into his comma.

Our reading from Isaiah tells of when the prophet spoke of the days to come. He spoke of the awesome things Christ does we do not expect. The first of these was God coming to earth. Today our reading, this first reading in Advent presents Jesus expanding Isaiah’s prophecy telling creation that he will come again. When he comes he will see the work of his hands in the work of his people. He will see his life as our living liturgy, his life as our work.

When we allow ourselves to be shaped by God as a potter shapes the clay; we live into the dash, we live into the comma. Advent means coming. Jesus is coming. Parousia mean coming, or more aptly coming back. Jesus is coming again. So let us be aware of both arrivals. The one we celebrate in about four weeks and the other which will come in God’s good time.

Together let us seek the word of God. Hear the word of God. Let us follow God’s word. This is how we do God’s work. This is how we live as God’s people.

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[1] Revelation 22:20

[2] The Decider, http://timelovesahero.blogspot.com/2011/11/decider.html, retrieved November 26, 2011.

[3] The Reverend Doctor John Alsop

[4] Burghardt, Walter J., “Sir, We Would Like to See Jesus.”  Paulist Press, 1982 in “An Advent Sourcebook.”  Thomas J. O’Gorman, Editor.  Chicago: Archdiocese of Chicago, Liturgy Training Publications, 1988, page 9.

The Decider

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday November 20, 2011, the 34th and last Sunday of Ordinary Time. This day is celebrated as Christ the King Sunday.

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Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24

Psalm 100

Ephesians 1:15-23

Matthew 25:31-46

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 Morrill Land Grant Act of 1862 set aside federal land in every state to establish a state university. The act required the universities to establish what we call today Reserve Officer Training Corps units. It also required instruction in agricultural, technical, and mechanical arts. The county extension service was also created under this act to improve agricultural and homemaking skills throughout the states. The Morrill Act created what we know as the A&M’s, A&T’s, and State Universities.

Because of the land donation, the law encouraged the universities to be built in rural and out of the way areas of the state. This helped reduce urban distractions that detract from higher education. Looking at the locations of the land grant schools in this region makes this point. Some of the fabulous cities which host these universities include College Station, Texas; Baton Rouge, Louisiana; Stillwater, Oklahoma; Manhattan, Kansas; Las Cruces, New Mexico; Auburn, Alabama; and the possibly aptly named Starkville, Mississippi.

Yet one hundred fifty years after the Morrill Act was passed, these university towns are among some of the most livable cities in America. Forbes list of most livable cities often include the land grant school cities of Madison, Wisconsin; Lincoln, Nebraska; and Fayetteville, Arkansas. The question of what shaped the quality of life in these towns is a chicken-and-egg thing; were these cities always livable or did the university make the city livable? The truth is that the university serves as a hub for business and industry and arts and leisure that make these cities livable. Without the universities these cities wouldn’t be destinations, they’d be the middle of nowhere.

Everyone wants to defend their alma mater, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but I ask: Would you want to go to College Station or Baton Rouge if it weren’t for the university?

There is one problem with the cities that host these universities. These small towns often end up with big city problems like poverty and crime. By the insulated nature of these communities and the university itself, these problems and others are often swept into corners and hidden. They don’t happen often, and that’s not bad news, but because of this lack of frequency first responders and law enforcement officials don’t have the experience their big-city brethren have.

Often, these issues are ignored hoping they will go away. A couple of weeks ago, these issues came together in a perfect storm of horror in at State College, Pennsylvania a former coach, at one time the heir apparent to become head coach, was named in a grand jury report concerning several horrible incidents of child abuse.

I won’t go into the full story as I know it; because not only do I not know the full story, but the full story hasn’t unfolded yet. Still, some things must be asked and answered. These questions include “Who knew what and when did they know it?” and “Who should have done what?” Pundits and parents are asking about the differences between fulfilling “legal responsibilities” and following “moral imperatives.” People don’t seem to be asking “Did this really happen?” In American jurisprudence this is important because every accused person goes to trial with the presumption of innocence. This question is also the reason people add the word “alleged” when specifying names and crimes.

There’s also an old expression for times like this, “There’s a special place in hell for someone who would harm a child like this.”

By the way, I’m not going into the similar controversy happening with the basketball program at Syracuse University because it is now just coming to light. That and the ‘Cuse doesn’t fit my “land grant school” motif.[1] This morning Marie asked me if coaches were becoming the new “Catholic Priests” and all I could say was “yes.”

So I want to reiterate this: I believe there is a special place in hell for someone who would harm a child like this. This is where we connect to our gospel reading this morning.

I have often undersold the story of the sheep and goats and that’s my loss. Jesus tells a wild, wild tale. Beyond a story, it’s in my opinion the wildest prophetic view of end times, the second coming and eternal judgment in Matthew’s gospel.

Our reading begins with the word that sets the stage for the apocalyptic prophecy, “when.” Using this definite adverb, Jesus begins by proclaiming this event will happen like it has already happened. “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory.” Jesus has told all of his disciples that he will come in his glory.

At this point, all of the nations come gathered; collected before Christ the King on his throne. There he separates the people just like a shepherd separates sheep and goats. These images are intentional. Jesus is referred to as the Good Shepherd in scripture so this is not an accident. In fact, these images sound a lot like our reading from Ezekiel. Jesus chose this image carefully.

The nation of Israel is often referred to as sheep. The Lord has had a special relationship nation of Israel since the beginning, since Genesis. These images and thoughts come together in verse 34 when King Jesus says to the sheep, “take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.”

This portrayal of the sheep is good as far as it goes. Matthew’s gospel was directed toward Jewish believers, but this particular prophecy also has an eye toward those who spread the word of the risen Christ and those who support those them. Those gentiles who support the Kingdom of Heaven, supporting the church and those who spread the Good News, they are also included in the sheep of this fold.

In this passage Jesus tells us that those who hear his voice work on behalf of his kingdom. This is true; the sheep of his fold are those who hear his voice and follow his commands. Those who love the Lord hear his voice and follow his commands. By this, some people say that we can be saved by works; some read this to say that if you’re good you will enter into the kingdom. We in the reformed tradition stand firmly against this. We are saved by grace through faith, and we demonstrate our faith in responding to God’s grace in word and deed. It is up to us to share the Good News of the risen Christ and support those who share the good news.

We need to remember that in the ancient of days there were those who persecuted Christians. There were Christians who are hungry and thirsty and there was no one to give them something to eat or a cool water to drink. There were evangelists who traveled to share the Good News who had no place to lay their heads. There were missionaries who were imprisoned for doing what the Lord called them to do. There were even rabbis who shared the difficult words of life, not just the popular ones, and they were cast aside because the message was too much for some to hear.

As true as this was then, it is just as true today. This passage is about the missionaries and evangelists who share the good news yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Even more so, it is for those who support them.[2]

What’s interesting about this passage is that everybody seems to be surprised to be included in either the sheep or the goats. Everyone asks “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?”

The righteous and the cursed both ask this question. Both groups, the sheep and the goats, don’t recognize when they have served and when they have failed. In Matthew’s reading, nobody really knows which variety of livestock they will be lumped in. Neither group can tell. They just don’t know.

So, this gets back to where I began. I do believe there’s a special place in hell for someone who would harm a child, but here’s the rub, it’s not up to me to decide who the sheep are and who the goats are. No matter what I think, no matter how “well qualified” I think I am to make that judgment; it’s not up to me. With what happened at Penn State, I am not qualified to decide who gets to go to the “special place.” The responsibility for that decision has been given by the Father to the Son to decide.

Returning to scripture, the answer to “who judges the righteous and who judges the cursed?” are right in front of us. Verse 32 tells us “[The Son of Man] will separate the people one from another. Verse 34 then tells us “Come, you who are blessed by my Father…” Matthew’s gospel tells us it is the Father who blesses the righteous who are separated from the cursed by the King at the final judgment.

As for the others, Matthew doesn’t call them the evil or the unrighteous; he simply calls them “you who are cursed.” Jesus doesn’t say who curses them; he just says they are cursed. To say they are cursed by the Lord is to say a defendant’s guilt is caused by the judge. The judge only put the state’s seal on the proceeding.

Matthew doesn’t say the devil is the one who curses them either. The devil and the cursed will share the same punishment, but the devil can’t force anybody to do anything. Tempt, yes. Coerce, no.

There is no time when it is up to us to decide who are the sheep and who are the goats. It is not up to us to decide who will be with Christ the King in the Kingdom of God and who will be with the devil in eternal torment. This is up to the Lord. So if we don’t decide who’s a sheep and who’s a goat then what do we get to decide?

We are called to make choices for our lives and our families. It is up to us to choose how we live. It is up to us as parents and as the Body of Christ to raise disciples who are able to make good decisions. Are we to choose the life scripture calls us to lead or are we to go and do what we want? Are we to be tempted to keep our own agendas or are we to work for the good of God’s good earth? Are we to reject the great unwashed or should we remember that when we do for the least of people around us in truth we serve the Lord?

It is our choice, and as for me and this house, we will serve the Lord.

We come together today on Christ the King Sunday to declare that God is sovereign. We come and testify that Christ is King. One of the king’s responsibilities is to judge creation, and Matthew shows us this will happen. He doesn’t say when, he doesn’t go into all of the twists and turns of apocalyptic prophecy. Matthew simply tells us the Son of Man will come in his glory and when he does he will sit on his throne and judge. Nothing more, nothing less.

Matthew doesn’t say that the goats will be sent in the realm of the devil. On the contrary, we read that those who are cursed will be sent into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. The devil isn’t the king of this kingdom, he isn’t the king of anything. He’s just another soul writhing in agony. Christ is the King of all creation.

It is up to us to judge our own behavior. It is up to us to judge the behavior of others to say “this is a good role model.” It is up to us to judge the behavior of others to say “that is no sort of behavior for me, for a follower of Christ.”

Christ is the king, we are the servants. It is up to us to share God’s word with the world and support those who share the word. It’s not up to us to decide who will be saved and who will not because Christ the king makes that decision. Taking time and energy to make this judgment ultimately distracts us doing what we are called to do. It is up to us to feed the hungry and give a cold drink to the thirsty, to offer shelter to the sojourner, clothe the naked, and visit the sick and imprisoned.

By this we don’t earn our salvation. By this we participate in the salvation of the world. By this we decide to join in with God’s redemptive work in creation.

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[1] Syracuse University has a historical connection to the United Methodist Church.

[2] “The New Interpreter’s Bible.” Leander Keck, General Editor, v. VIII, Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995, page 456.

Consequences

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday November 13, 2011, the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time.

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Judges 4:1-7

Psalm 123

1 Thessalonians 5:1-11

Matthew 25:14-30

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

I have said before that the source of our readings every Sunday is something called the Revised Common Lectionary. Lectionaries have been around since before the beginning of Christian worship. A professor once told a class at Austin Seminary that when Jesus was in the synagogue reading from Isaiah, that was a lectionary reading for that day.

It makes sense, back in the day, finding a specific reading wasn’t anything like it is today. The Isaiah scroll would have been huge, and finding one specific reading within that huge scroll would have been both difficult and time consuming. So it makes sense that the scroll would have been open to that reading when it was handed to Jesus. It would have been open to that reading because that was the lectionary reading.

The Revised Common Lectionary is the second generation of lectionary readings used by Protestants. The first is still used extensively by Lutherans and Episcopalians while the revised version is used more by Methodists and Presbyterians. The lectionary splits scripture into three different years, one year assigned to each of the first three gospels. John’s gospel is sprinkled among all three years, especially in Advent, Lent, and Easter. With these gospel readings there are also readings from the Epistles, Psalms, and Old Testament.

I like the lectionary because it provides me a discipline of reading through the year. It makes me take a hard look at specific readings and keeps me from focusing on just what I think is important or interesting.

That being said, it has holes. One of these holes is that the Old Testament is just too large to fit in the lectionary. There are over 150 weeks within the lectionary, but still a full third of the psalms and a major chunk of the law, prophets, and other writings are missing. Today gives us one example.

Over the three year course of the lectionary, our Old Testament reading this morning is the only time the book of Judges is read in worship. We don’t hear the stories of Samson and Delilah. We don’t get to hear the glorious call of Gideon. At that, we don’t hear the meat and potatoes of the story of Deborah and Barak, just this introduction to the story, and that’s a shame.

It begins with Deborah telling Barak, “The LORD the God of Israel, commands you: ‘Go, take with you ten thousand men of Naphtali and Zebulun and lead them up to Mount Tabor. I will lead Sisera, the commander of Jabin’s army, with his chariots and his troops to the Kishon River and give him into your hands.’” Glorious, isn’t it, but that’s not how it ends.

What comes up missing is Barak’s answer to Deborah, “If you go with me, I will go; but if you don’t go with me, I won’t go.” Deborah responds, “Certainly I will go with you, but because of the course you are taking, the honor will not be yours, for the LORD will deliver Sisera into the hands of a woman.”

This is how it happens too. In verse 17, after Barak and his army have routed Jabin’s army and Sisera is on the run, we meet Jael. She’s a lovely homemaker, the wife of Heber the Kenite. Sisera and Heber have done business in the past so Sisera thought Heber’s tent would provide safe haven. Not so much.

Jael covers Sisera with rugs to hide him. He feels safer. Sisera is thirsty so Jael gives him warm milk. He feels rested and falls asleep. But instead of hiding Sisera from his enemies, Jael kills Sisera with a tent stake through the temple. When Barak came looking for Sisera, Jael showed him where to find him, snug as a dead bug in a rug. Barak took the field, but a woman took the general of the army with rugs, warm milk, and a tent stake.

As I said, there are holes in the lectionary. We read the glorious prophecy that the army of the Lord will prevail under the leadership of Barak, but we don’t hear the consequences of his response, his defiance of God’s prophet. These are consequences worth hearing.

Our Gospel reading has its own consequences. Three servants, three slaves are trusted with the wealth of their master who goes away on a long journey. One slave is trusted with five talents, one with two talents, and the third with one. Each is given a very generous gift from the master. A few weeks ago we learned how much these are worth, so we won’t do that again. Let’s just say that these riches had value beyond imagination.

Let’s also remember that the master gave to each slave a number of talents according to their ability. The master didn’t burden the slaves with riches they were unqualified to handle. They had the faculties to work with what they were given. They were not given too much nor were they given too little. It’s the Goldilocks of trust, what they were given was just right.

The master’s trust was met with fulfilled expectations from two of the three slaves. The servants who were given five talents and two talents doubled their master’s trust. The servant who performed under expectation buried his treasure. It didn’t appreciate even one denarius in that hole.

Now, the master was away for a long time, scripture doesn’t say how long but in the history of the faith it is safe to say that “a long time” is a very long time. When he returned, the master settled accounts with the servants.

Those who doubled what the master gave received even greater in return. These servants were trusted with “a few things,” and anyone who can call even one talent “a few things” knows wealth far beyond my wildest imagination. In return for their faithful service, they are put in charge of many things and welcomed into the “master’s happiness.”

As you know, I look at several different translations to see how other folks render the scripture. In this case some translations say “enter into the joy of your master”[1] and another has the master saying “Let’s celebrate together.”[2] I’m not going to say that one is a more faithful translation or one is better. What I will say is that when you consider all of these translations together we get a glorious view of the master’s joy with these good and faithful servants and that is a wonderful thing.

The third, the one who was trusted with least didn’t live up to that much trust. He took the gifts of his master and put them in a hole in the ground. We need to remember that in the first century burying treasure in a hole in the ground was like an earthen safe deposit box. So if he wasn’t going to do anything with his master’s talent at least he did nothing safely. But where the servants who doubled their master’s talents were invited to share in his joys, this servant was given a different invitation.

This servant approaches his master with his dirty bag of treasure and says, “Master, I knew that you are a hard man, harvesting where you have not sown and gathering where you have not scattered seed. So I was afraid and went out and hid your gold in the ground. See, here is what belongs to you.”

In counseling there’s something called phenomenology. The simplest way I can explain it is that we create our own reality and respond accordingly. This servant feared his master and responded in fear. He felt the best he could do is return the talent unscathed. So how did that work out?

The master responds, “So you knew that I harvest where I have not sown and gather where I have not scattered seed? Well then, you should have put my money on deposit with the bankers, so that when I returned I would have received it back with interest. So take the bag of gold from him and give it to the one who has ten bags.” The servant who lived in fear, not despite his fear, was cast from his master’s sight.

As for the faithful servants, “whoever has will be given more, and they will have an abundance. Whoever does not have, even what they have will be taken from them.” As the master has already said, the faithful servants are welcomed share their master’s happiness. The third fearful servant, he was cast out of the presence of the master and into the darkness.

Oh, by the way, we don’t know, but perhaps the two other servants thought the same of their master. Their difference may not have been their opinion of the master, but their difference was their response. There are consequences we face in receiving and rejecting the gifts and talents of our Lord. We have heard them in Judges and we have heard them again in Matthew. God’s gifts are wonderful, and even more so are God’s rewards.

But there is one more consideration worth our attention. There is a question left unanswered in scripture I want us to wrestle for a moment. It’s a sensible question, it’s an obvious question.

What if the servant had lost his master’s fortune? What if not from theft or negligence, what if by circumstance and poor investing the servant had lost his master’s wealth?

It’s not as unusual as you might think. In this economy it’s probably more common than I think. In the past few years we can see how downtowns have turned over businesses. We can look at the Wall Street and banking debacle of a few years ago to see just how easy it is to lose five talents. Shoot, on Wall Street the losses surpassed hundreds of thousands of talents.[3] So how do we think this master would respond to losses if return of riches earned one slave a one way ticket to Weeping-and-Gnashing-of-Teeth-Ville.

Theologian Karl Barth once wrote that God created man in his own image and then man returned the favor. If we think our heavenly master would respond the same way a 21^st Century banker would react to a defaulted business loan we have committed the sin of creating God in our own image. What if the value isn’t in succeeding in the ways that we know using dollars and disciples and such? What if the value is in using the gifts? What if success is answering the call?

I believe that in the kingdom of heaven it is better to try and fail than to not try at all. It’s better to work for the kingdom and not see the results in our time than it is to see nothing and give up. I believe it is more noble to try and have faith that the master and the master’s talents are enough than it is to seek achievement in the short term that we can see and touch.

I believe it is more noble to have faith and use the gifts and talents God has granted us individually and as the body than it is to live in fear. Recently we read from Exodus “I the LORD your God am a jealous God,” so fearing God isn’t wrong. But if that is all, if that’s all we think of our Lord then we are guilty of using human economics, accounting, and legalism to define the power and the grace of God, and this is not our Lord.

Our Lord, the master of this parable, welcomes slaves to share in his joy. It’s humanly typical how the wealthiest and most powerful people in our world don’t welcome their servants to share in their joy. Our Lord offers his greatest gifts to us and simply demands we use them. Yes, the Lord is a fan of good stewardship (You knew this was going to be a stewardship sermon, didn’t you!), but the Lord measures our success in ways we cannot know.

It is better to use the time, talents, and treasure we have been given than not because even if it seems that we have lost all, we are not the judge of what losing all truly means. Ultimately, failure can be expressed in the old expression, “you can’t win if you don’t play.” We face the consequences of not living in God’s love, the God who shares the overflowing bounty of talents, who calls us use those talents.

So let us answer the call. Let us live into the best of our heavenly vocation with the talents God has given us. Let us share in the master’s happiness. Truly, the worst thing we can do is say, “No.”

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[1] New Revised Standard Version and New American Standard Bible

[2] New Living Translation

[3] A $700 Billion bailout comes to about 350,000 talents of gold at $58/gram.

After Awakening

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday November 6, 2011, the 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time.

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Joshua 24:1-3a, 14-25

Psalm 78:1-7

1Thessalonians 4:13-18

Matthew 25:1-18

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

Seminary is good about doing many things. One of them is turning the way a bunch of folks interpret scripture on its collective ear. One of those ear-turning things is that the scribes who wrote, copied, and edited texts would occasionally add stuff. Sometimes the additions were to make things more clear. Sometimes the additions were to advance an agenda. Sometimes the additions were to make the audience more comfortable with the word. You just heard me share one of those, verse 13 from our gospel reading.

This verse has Jesus telling his listeners to “keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour.” Actually, this translation is better than the New Revised Standard Version’s which renders this verse, “Keep awake, therefore, for you neither know the day nor the hour.” “Keep watch” makes some sense, but “keep awake” makes very little sense to me in the context of this reading. To see what I mean, I want to take a close look at the differences between the five wise virgins and the five foolish virgins.

Let’s begin with the obvious things. All ten of the women were virgins, bridesmaids in other translations. They all waited for the bridegroom together; they all had lamps; and they all fell asleep. This is why translating the phrase “keep awake” makes absolutely no sense to me. Why make distinctions between the ladies with the phrase “keep awake” if nobody keeps awake?

What happened next is interesting though. When they all awoke, they trimmed their lamps. For those of you who have never trimmed a lamp it’s not difficult. There are several different types of ancient lamps and they all work on the same basic principle. There is a reservoir that contains the oil and the wick. The wick is snaked up through a hole in the lamp. The oil is then absorbed by the wick and the oil which burns when lit.

In both only a little bit of wick burns as long as there is oil in the lamp. If there is no oil in the lamp, the wick itself begins to burn. If the wick burns too long, the oil can’t get to the end anymore and it will need to be trimmed.

By the way, the word we translate as “trim” is translated other ways in scripture. Everywhere else in the New Testament, this word means to adorn or to put in order.[1] I don’t think this parable calls us to bedazzle our lamps, so we can ignore that one. But when it comes time to put things in order, to put all things in order, this is an important note for the translation and for our lives.

I bring this up because as both the wise and the foolish virgins fell asleep, they must have asleep with their lamps burning. If they hadn’t what follows next would not be an issue. The wise virgins had their things in order, the foolish did not.

When they fell asleep, their lamps were lit. When they were awakened they were either going out or had gone out. None of them had oil left in their lamps, but only the wise women thought to bring an extra flask of oil in case the bridegroom’s already late arrival was further delayed.

Well, you know how the rest of this goes. The wise virgins refuse to give the foolish virgins any oil because there may not be enough for them if they do. Then in a land that is two-thousand years removed from the 24-hour mini-mart the wise virgins suggest the foolish ones find an oil merchant and get their own.

What makes this obviously a parable, a story based in literature, tradition, and wisdom but not in truth, is that the five foolish virgins were able to find a 24-hour mini-mart where they did secure oil for their lamps. In real life the chances of finding such a merchant would have been between slim and none, but in the parable it happens. By the time they return, the bridegroom has closed the door to the foolish ladies. They were summarily rejected.

So the difference between the wise and the foolish has nothing to do with sleeping because both groups fell asleep. The difference is that only five woke up prepared and ready to go in the middle of the night. The difference between the groups was how they prepared before they fell asleep and then what they did once they awoke.

The difference is that one group came as prepared as an Eagle Scout on a weekend campout and the other was rejected by the bridegroom. So as I said, it’s not really a matter of “keep awake,” at least not as far as I’m concerned. When you get right down to it, I prefer the New International Version’s translation of verse 13 that says “keep watch” better than the New Revised Standard Version’s, but honestly, in my opinion, it could have be translated better.

Another way this could have been rendered is for Jesus to say “be in constant readiness.” As for the language, any of these translations; keep awake, keep watch, or be in constant readiness are suitable. But these phrases all mean slightly different things. What I like about “be in constant readiness” is that you can still be ready and grab forty winks. But if you are constantly ready, you will have oil in case the bridegroom is delayed.

You don’t need much extra oil, enough to fill your lamp one or maybe two more times. The crier will tell you when the bridegroom arrives; you just need to have enough oil to keep your lamp lit. The wise women did this, the unwise did not.

But another way this can be translated is that Jesus warned his disciples not just to be awake, but to be alive, to be fully alive.[2] Jesus wants more than warm bodies.  He wants the church to be filled with people who are more than just awake. Awake is a threshold; alive, truly alive is what he wants the church to be.

Our Lord calls us to aspire to and to work toward the life He gives us and calls us to live; to be good stewards of the life, the world, and the gifts we have been given. Our goal, our call, our vocation is be the light of God in the world and to bring light into the world.

The most common way we bring the light is by doing good works. Praise God this part of the body of Christ does many good works in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.

We have opened our doors for community worship services and for civic organizations. We share worship with the community not only every Sunday, but with fellow Presbyterians on Ash Wednesday and Maundy Thursday. We hosted a group that helps teach people valuable life skills including budgeting and meal preparation. We hosted the youth of the First Methodist Church from San Angelo and their presentation of Matthew’s gospel in the musical Godspell.

We work to fight hunger and do the work of the greater church, through the Marshall Food Pantry. We also make contributions to Presbyterian Disaster Relief and contributions to the Presbytery for mission. We give time and energy to many good causes for the glory of our Father who is in heaven. But there is more, oh so much more we can do and need to do.

One thing we all need to do more of is to share worship. Here’s an uncomfortable question, “When was the last time you invited someone to come and worship with this part of the body of Christ?” The Rev. Mike Nelson tells this story about this:

When I was interning at a Lutheran Church in north Minneapolis, I had the privilege of sharing an office with Bob Evans, a retired pastor who served our congregation as voluntary “evangelism consultant.”

One week he had an insert run off for the Sunday worship bulletin that simply stated, “Surveys show that the average Lutheran invites someone to church once every 14 years.”

At the bottom he asked the tongue-in-cheek question: “How many of you are past due?”[3]

This is just one way we can trim the lamps of our lives. Don’t misunderstand me, I know that inviting someone to worship may cost more than we will ever find in our bank accounts.  Inviting others puts us individually and corporately on display. It puts us on the line to show that we worship and work for the glory of God in the world. What could cost us more than that?

This parable is loaded with many symbols. When this gospel was written these elements would have been important to all of its listeners. Jesus is known far and wide as the bridegroom.  While not mentioned by name in this parable, the church is called the Bride of Christ. The wedding banquet refers to the anticipated Messianic Banquet; a great feast for the faithful in the age to come that was a feature in Jewish and Christian speculation about the end time.[4] Oil is often used in scripture and in worship to represent the Holy Spirit. Sorry, there isn’t a scriptural parabolic use of the virgin, but interpreters instead liken them to the members of the church who will be sorted like the sheep and the goats in the end times.[5]

The symbols are glorious and illuminating, but there is still that same old problem of reading parables like watching “The Da Vinci Code,” filling in scriptural allusions like watching Tom Hanks fill in the blanks of Dan Brown’s prose.

What we can say is that the kingdom of heaven will be like a great banquet. A banquet the Lord our God hosts when all of creation is put into order. When through the Holy Spirit we work to do God’s will, we work to help put creation into order.

 Another interesting thing about the word English bibles translate as trimmed is that it comes from the same root word as the words for world, earth, and ultimately creation; the sum of everything here and now, all of the cosmos. In the common use of the word, it pointed to an orderly creation, a universe where all is beautiful.[6] So as the earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it, all of what is good and ordered and created is from and for the Lord. 

As we trim the lamps of our lives, we participate in making the orderly creation which God envisions. As we trim the lamps of our lives, we work to bring back toward Eden the creation our Lord began.

So this is our goal, this is our endeavor, this is our vocation; this is how we serve as good stewards over God’s creation. We let our light shine before others, that they may see our good works and give glory to our Father who is in heaven.[7]

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[1] Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, Gerhard Kittel, editor.  Vol. III.  Grand Rapids, MI, Eerdmans, 1965, page 867.

[2] gragorew, “A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and other Early Christian Literature.”  Revised and edited by  Frederick William Danker, Editor, based on Walter Bauer's Griechisch-deutsches Wörterbuch zu den Schriften des Neuen Testaments und der frühchristlichen Literatur, sixth edition,  ed. Kurt Aland and Barbara Aland, with Viktor Reichmann  and on previous English editions by W.F.Arndt, F.W.Gingrich, and F.W.Danker.  Chicago: University of Chicago Press, electronic edition 2000

[3] HomileticsOnline.com, Timothy F. Merrill, Executive Editor, http://www.homileticsonline.com/subscriber/illustration_search.asp?keywords=invite , retrieved November 8, 2008.

[4] Messianic Banquet, Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible

[5] New Interpreter’s Bible, v. viii, Leander Keck, General Editor.  Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995, page 450 and HomileticsOnline.com, http://www.homileticsonline.com/subscriber/btl_display.asp?installment_id=93000101, retrieved November 5, 2008.

[6] Kittel, page 868-880

[7] From The Second Helvetic Confession, Chapter XVI - Of Faith and Good Works, and of Their Reward, and of Man's Merit, paragraph 6..

Homily for Joe McDonald

The Service of Witness to the Resurrection was held for Mr. Joe McDonald. Mr. McDonald, a Deacon of the Church, passed peacefully in his sleep on October 21, 2011 at his home in Leesburg, Florida.

Our Old Testament reading comes from the book of Deuteronomy 33:27

The eternal God is your dwelling place,

and underneath are the everlasting arms.

Our Gospel reading comes from the Gospel of John 11:25–26

I am the resurrection and the life, says the Lord.

Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live,

and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.

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 I asked a member of the congregation about Joe, he said that even in his mid-70’s, Joe was a young man. The people of Marshall remember seeing Joe leaving the city limits in 2004 behind the wheel of his black Ford Mustang convertible. I don’t know how Joe would have responded if he had heard someone ask “What’s a 78 year old man doing driving a Mustang convertible?” But from the stories I have heard over the past couple of weeks, I imagine he would have said something like, “Doing quite nicely, thank you.”

Rest assured, when it came time to retire that black Mustang, Joe got something more sensible, his next Mustang had a manual transmission. (What, that’s not more sensible?) When his joints began to betray him, he traded that one for a sporty Cadillac with an automatic. Born the youngest boy of a family of five, only his sister Judy following Joe in the birth order, his sense of humor was developed early in this family of pranksters. That’s the source of the joy of life that appreciated fast cars.

Please don’t allow my words to let you think that Joe is all play and no work, this is not my intent. Upon graduating from high school here in Marshall, Joe enlisted in the Navy at the age of seventeen. He served as a medical corpsman in the Pacific theater during those last bloody months of World War II through VJ Day and beyond. This honed his sense of duty, his sense of honor, his sense of right and wrong and put those things to work in life. I guess what I’m saying is that Joe played hard, but only after he worked hard.

Chatting with Joe’s sons, they instilled this in me with several sayings Joe shared with them. He made sure his children knew that it “doesn’t matter what you do, as long as you do it to the best of your ability.” To that end, Joe shared and instilled a sense of right and wrong and a solid work ethic in his children. He taught them that by hard work and perseverance all things are possible.

Joe worked hard, and he shared the joys of life with family and friends. As his children transitioned from youth to adults so too did his relationship with them. Later, it included sharing some Neely’s Brown Pigs and a taste of grain and grape. As his children became adults Joe cultivated an adult relationship with them, though never afraid to be the father when the situation arose. This love and devotion was never more demonstrated than with his wife, the former Dolores Goforth of Karnack, Texas.

Joe loved his wife and loved his life. Whether parasailing in Mexico or cruising the St. John’s River, or traveling extensively with Dee after retirement, Joe loved life and shared it with all around him, which brings me to one more story.

Those of you who entered on the North side of the building noticed three rugged crosses on the lawn. Joe built those for the church. It was a glory to God and a surprise to everyone else. These crosses aren’t built out of flimsy plywood either; they are made to withstand the elements of an East Texas springtime. They were built to stand from Ash Wednesday to Pentecost, stand in the name of our crucified Lord.

I find it wonderfully and gloriously telling that Joe didn’t build one cross, he built three. Here in this sanctuary you will see one cross, the cross of our Lord, and this is appropriate for the sanctuary. When Joe built the crosses he did more. Surely, Joe built the cross which represents the one that bore Christ on Golgotha, he also built the crosses which held the men crucified alongside Jesus.

Death is an enemy. Its specter is not the shadow God intended to have following us all of the days of our lives. Joe instead lived, and lived well. He lived as Deuteronomy demands, with the eternal God as his dwelling place, he lived underneath the everlasting arms of the Lord. He lived knowing and celebrating the Lord who said, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.”

He showed this to us and continues to show this to us in the crosses he built. Joe’s hands and Joe’s life testify that Christ’s victory over death comes to life upon the empty cross. Joe testifies that this promise is for all of us by building not one but three crosses. He built not just the cross of Christ, but the crosses we all carry everyday. He testifies to the resurrection and the promise of new life for all in Christ.

Joe shared his faith and values with everyone who he met. He shared his faith and values with every relationship. He continues to share his faith and values with the testimony of his hands and his tools, his children and their children. He shared these things with the world, but he shared nothing with strangers because he had never met a stranger. Steven and David told me that Joe would say “I may have been right, I may have been wrong, but I am not in doubt.” Relying on the promises of things unseen, this sounds like the textbook definition of faith. It sounds like a strong faith. It sounds like Joe’s faith. Thanks be to God.

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Joe B. McDonald passed away peacefully in his sleep the night of October 21, 2011, at the age of 85 at his home in Leesburg, Florida. Born in Longview, Texas on February 24, 1926, to the late Charles Lee McDonald and Grace Sammons McDonald, Joe graduated from Marshall Senior High School, where he played center on a Maverick football team that included future NFL Hall of Famer Y. A. Tittle.

After his post high school stint in the Navy, Joe attended Southwestern Louisiana Institute, now the University of Louisiana at Lafayette. With the outbreak of the Korean War, Joe left college to join the U.S. Air Force where he served as a 2^nd Lieutenant. Joe returned to Marshall and worked for Thiokol at Longhorn Army Ammunition Plant in Karnack, Texas.

Joe married Dolores (Dee) Goforth on November 27, 1954 in Karnack, Texas. Joe and Dolores had three children, Stephen, Melissa and David. Joe served in various capacities at Thiokol, eventually becoming a safety engineer. He became Director of Safety at Thiokol in the late sixties and worked on projects diverse as the Saturn V rocket motor and the Pershing missile, as well as on the Gemini and Apollo rocket programs. In 1970 Joe accepted a position with Brunswick Corporation to be the Director of Safety at their Marion and Sugar Grove, Virginia plants, which manufactured both consumer and defense products. Subsequently he was transferred to Chicago, Illinois, where he became the Director for Safety for Brunswick and oversaw operations for more than thirty facilities located across the United States.

Joe returned to Thiokol in 1981. One of the highlights of his career came when he was chosen to participate in the elimination of the Pershing Missiles which he had helped build under the Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces Treaty (the INF Treaty) with the Soviet Union.

Joe lost his beloved wife Dolores to colon cancer in 1993. Joe continued to travel, often with his brother Jack and sister Judy and daughter Melissa. Joe moved to Leesburg, Florida in 2004 to be closer to his children and grandchildren.

Joe is survived by his sister Judy of LaGrange; son Steve and his wife, Cathy, and their son, Zachary of Orlando, Florida; daughter Melissa of Savannah, Georgia; son David and his wife Nancy and their children, Brandon, Bronwen, and Spenser of Tangerine, Florida and all the friends he made wherever he traveled.