Sunday, September 30, 2012

Us

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday September 30, the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time.



Esther 7:1-6, 9-10, 9:20-22
Psalm 124
James 5:13-20
Mark 9:38-50

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 PC(USA) Book of Confessions makes up half of the denomination’s constitution. Along with the Book of Order, these documents help us understand who we are and how we work together to be the church. To continue with my recent “political” trend, these documents help us work together in “the arena where conscience and control meet, where ethics and power collide, and where we must work out the tentative and uneasy compromises that make it possible for us to live together.” For us, to live together as the Body of Christ.

This is what the Book of Confessions says about itself in the introduction:

The creeds, confessions, and catechisms of The Book of Confessions are both historical and contemporary. Each emerged in a particular time and place in response to a particular situation.

This is important, the documents in “The Book of Confessions are both historical and contemporary.” They were written in a specific time and place in history and theology. For example, the Nicene and Apostles’ Creeds were written in a time when defining who God is and how the three persons of God are described meant something. These were issues that raged from the first through the eighth century when these creeds were first contemplated and ultimately finalized. That makes them historical. They are contemporary because even though the urgency of these issues is long in our past, they still mean something to us.

Continuing from the introduction:

Thus, each confessional document should be respected in its historical particularity; none should be altered to conform to current theological, ethical, or linguistic norms. The confessions are not confined to the past, however; they do not simply express what the church was, what it used to believe, and what it once resolved to do. The confessions address the church’s current faith and life, declaring contemporary conviction and action.

Of course that’s not completely true. For example, there are some things in the 16th and 17th century confessions and catechisms that the introduction says “contain condemnations or derogatory characterizations of the Roman Catholic Church.” In fact, Chapters XXII, XXV, and XXIX of the Westminster Confession of Faith have been amended to remove anachronous and offensive language.

This is explained by another note saying “While these statements emerged from substantial doctrinal disputes, they reflect 16th and 17th century polemics. (Polemics, who says that anymore?) Their condemnations and characterizations of the Catholic Church are not the position of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) and are not applicable to current relationships between the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) and the Catholic Church.”[1] These polemics have a little asterisk so the reader will know which is which.

I say these things because something the confessions do is help us understand our roots and our beliefs. They help us understand who we are in our faith. They also help us understand the exact opposite; they help us understand who we are not. The anti-Catholic polemics in the Westminster Standards are one example. Many other examples are found in the Second Helvetic Confession where we decry the heresies of the Manichaeans, Valentinians, Marcionites, Jews, Mohammedans, Monarchians, Novatians, Praxeas, Patripassians, Anthropomorphites; and the followers of Sabellius, Paul of Samosata, AĆ«tius, Macedonius, Arius, and that takes us to the end of Chapter III of XXX. Let’s just say the guy who wrote this confession[2] had a grip on who we aren’t.

Esther’s story begins with who she was. She was the Queen of King Ahasuerus, ruler over one-hundred-twenty-seven provinces from India to Ethiopia. Now, Esther was not the first Queen. When Vashti, Ahasuerus’ first queen, refused him she was removed from her royal place. Through twists and turns that make stories like this wonderful to tell and hear Esther becomes queen.

She had a secret too. She was a Jew.

Haman is mentioned in our story and he’s the villain. Esther’s uncle and guardian Mordecai failed to bow to the King’s gods and idols. This ticked Haman off. He hatches a plot to hang Mordecai and sell all of the Jews into death—not slavery, but death. Our reading is the thrilling climax of how Esther thwarts Haman’s plan. The ending includes Haman’s fate, hanging on a gallows 75 feet high, a gallows he himself had built for his mortal enemy Mordecai.

Mordecai was just a thorn in Haman’s side, a thorn he thought he had plucked. Haman thought he was big stuff because Queen Esther invited him to a banquet. He thought it was a case of us and them until he discovered that he was them. Ahasuerus made it known that as for him and his house, Esther was Queen and her family was safe.

Ahasuerus made it known that Queen Esther and her people were “us” and not “them”.

I love that story! It’s a story of adoption. It’s a story of love. It’s a story of risk and reward. We need to remember that not only was there no guarantee that Esther’s ploy would work, there was no guarantee Ahasuerus would even consider hearing her plea. It’s a story of having nothing to lose. It’s a story of big risk and big reward. There would be no bailout if Esther failed. It’s a story of knowing who you are and finding your role in the grand scheme of things.

Mark teaches this lesson too. Our reading from last week shares an embarrassing moment for the disciples. Walking through the Judean countryside they begin to argue with one another about who was greatest. Jesus asks what they were arguing about then he hears the answer every parent hears from the back seat after asking “What did you say?” “Nothing!”

So Jesus tells the disciples and all who will listen today that to be first you must be last and servant of all. He presents a child; one of the weakest members of the household to show whoever welcomes a child like this welcomes him and the Father who sent him. This is quite a change from what they knew. It’s different from what we know too.

So John, sounding like a “Son of Thunder” comes crying out to Jesus, like a little sister tattling on her older brother, “We saw a man driving out demons in your name and told him to stop because he was not one of us.”

What did he want? A cookie? Nanny-nanny-pooh-pooh. Well, this is not what Jesus would say is it?

Jesus tells the truth. This guy can’t do a miracle in the name of the Lord in one breath and curse him in the next. No, he’s not a part of our inner circle. He’s not one of you, but he is still one of us. And whoever is not against us is for us.

By the way, he doesn't say “anyone who is not for us is against us.” No, if they’re not for us they’re not a part of the community; but I can’t say they’re our enemies, not based on this. What he does say is those who are not against us are for us.

Usually we believe that whoever is not for us is against us. But Jesus does not say that. Jesus says “Whoever gives you a cup of water in my name because you belong to me will not lose their reward.” Whoever blesses you because you are a part of the body of Christ will not lose their reward.

Jesus says people will have to make a decision, they can choose to be a blessing or not. It’s not enough to just say, “I believe” or even “I don’t believe.” We have to do something with our belief before it becomes meaningful. If we do nothing with our faith we might as well believe nothing. But when we respond to Christ and those who Christ sends, even if it’s just with a cup of water (which in ancient Palestine wasn’t always a small thing), we will not lose our reward.

Beware though; if we cause a little one who believes to sin then our reward will not be grace and peace. We might as well be tied to a millstone, one so big that it needs a beast of burden to roll it over the grain. We might as well be tied to that rock and sent to the bottom of the sea. If drowning in the sea is the good news, the bad news must be horrible.

Remember too, if the hand causes us to sin and it is better to amputate than to face the unquenchable fire where “their worm does not die and the fire is not quenched,” imagine how awful our fate will be if we cause one of Christ’s little ones to sin. Most folks say amputation is an exaggeration Jesus uses to make a point, but compared to worms, and fire; it’s not so bad. Now that’s a scary point.

By the way, if you are unsure about what I just said, particularly the part about “if they are not for us they are against us” not being the same as “if they are not against us they are for us” I understand. All our lives we have been told we have to consciously make a decision; the kind that we say with our tongues. I think Jesus is telling us we are called to act and our actions speak louder than words.

If you want more let me remind you that there is no mention of God by name in the book of Esther. So let me ask you this, can this be a Godly story without the mention of God; only the mention of God’s people, those who keep his commandments? Not only do I say yes, but the people who set our canon of scripture think so, including the writers and editors of Westminster Confession of Faith, which lists the books of the Bible.

As for who these little ones are? Jesus is purposely evasive on this. Last week we read that Jesus brought a child before them. This child represented lack of strength, power, and status. This week we hear about “little ones.” Surely this child would be a “little one,” but there are others. Jesus did not use the same word for “child” and “little one.” The “little ones” are more than children. They are new believers. They are the weak. They are the elderly. They are the people we talked about last week without power.

It’s not going out on a limb to say that the Jews who had been sentenced to die in Esther’s story were “little ones,” the ones without political power (well, known political power) who were sentenced to become victims on Haman’s whim. But this does not happen. Haman dies after plunging to his death on his own gallows. This is a turn of fate worthy of Mark 9:42-48.

Last week I asked “where’s the joy?” It was a good question. Last weeks sermon had a lot of important stuff, but darn little joy. This week, well, there are warnings in our reading from Mark. There are some consequences to the truth found in Esther. But there is a more wonderful truth than warnings and woes.

Last week I said, “The disciples thought they and Jesus were ‘us’ and the rest of the world was ‘them.’” John makes this boo-boo again! (If you ever thought you have a lot to learn, just imagine what John felt like right then.) It’s not us and them. We are us. All of us are us. Those who follow and serve Christ are “us.” Those who serve the people who serve Christ are “us.” Whoever is not against us is for us! Whoever gives you a cup of water in Christ’s name will not lose their reward!

Jesus came to save us all. He did not come for us to leave them. He came for all of us. This is why he came, not for some but for all. Now it’s up to us to respond to God’s invitation in Christ. Jesus didn’t come to leave behind any of the creation he came to redeem; and come he did.

God came into this world, fully human and fully divine—more divine than we can imagine and because of sin more human than we will ever be—and he came to invite us to join him in love and peace. Jesus calls us to join in full relationship with him. Only through relationship will our lives be what he wants and expects from his disciples.

I mentioned our Constitution in the beginning of today’s sermon, what I failed to say is something that should go without saying, yet must be said. There is one document that rises above our Constitution, and that is Holy Scripture; the full testimony of the Old and New Testaments which is the Word of our faith. The person of Jesus Christ is the fullest measure of that faith ever known on this earth, God’s special revelation to us. He joined us and he wants us to join him. Now there’s the joy.

[1] The Office of the General Assembly, “The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), Part I, Book of Confessions.” Louisville, KY: Office of the General Assembly, 2004, Preface. (PDF Edition, pages 5-6)
[2] Heinrich Bullinger 

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Us and Him

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday September 23, 2012, the 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time.



Proverbs 31:10-31
Psalm 1
James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a
Mark 9:30-37

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

As many of you know, I use a set of readings every week in worship that was developed cooperatively by two groups, the Consultation on Common Texts and the International English Language Liturgical Consultation. Over nine years they collected and selected texts with two basic goals, sharing the Gospel and hearing the full range of scripture. Something else they tried to do was assemble readings without intentionally creating worship themes most of the year. Of course during the Advent, Christmas, Lent, and Easter seasons along with special holy days, the selections are more thematic.

Occasionally though, it is the responsibility of the folks who plan worship to wonder “What in heaven’s name were these folks thinking when collecting and arranging these texts?” Our gospel reading today falls into that category.

When we last left Mark’s gospel, Peter had just said Jesus is the Christ then was promptly and not so graciously reprimanded for telling Jesus how to be the Christ. Then Jesus predicted his passion and told his disciples what it takes to follow him. This is the passage where Jesus tells everyone, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me and for the gospel will save it.”

Last week I said[1] that our world is political. In the words of Reinhold Niebuhr: “Politics is the arena where conscience and control meet, where ethics and power collide, and where we must work out the tentative and uneasy compromises that make it possible for us to live together.” By “our world” I meant our whole world, church and state, sacred and secular, public and private; the whole world is political. Given that the world and the church is nothing less (but surely more) than how people work out living together on God’s good earth, we live in a political world.

I also made the point of saying that God’s politics and American politics are not the same. Among other things, American politics have become about gaining power for the sake of having power, not about improving the life of Americans. By watching television and hearing political discourse, our political process seems now to work from a place of fear of what will happen when so-and-so is elected. I believe as William Sloane Coffin once said, “While love seeks the truth, fear seeks safety.”[2]

There’s an old expression, a ship is safe while in port, but that is not where ships are meant to be. Power is supposed to be used and it is to be used to make life better. Power is to be used. If we do nothing, if we try to save our lives, we will lose them. When we are willing to die for something great we are great.

So what comes next as we enter chapter nine? What comes between this reading from last week and our reading this week? After about a week’s time there’s this little thing that happens on the side of a mountain, the Transfiguration. Peter, James, and John meet Moses, Elijah and Jesus. This was quite a moment.

Then after they came down the hill they come upon the disciples and a whole lot of people screaming and yelling. That must have been a let down. You come literally from a mountain top experience to people yelling. On second thought, Peter building those shelters sounds like the thing to do. Yes, there is miraculous healing, but it’s time for Jesus and the disciples to get out of town.

This is where we pick up with our reading. It was some time later, maybe a few days later give-or-take a day. I say this because the way scripture reads “They left that place” means more than “They left that place.” It means some time passed between the healing and where we are now. So a few days later give-or-take later they were on the back roads of Galilee. They weren’t on the main roads because Jesus didn’t want anyone to know they were on the road. Our Lord was looking for a little alone time with his disciples for a time of fellowship and discipleship.

So he taught them, he repeated his Passion prediction. “The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into the hands of men. They will kill him, and after three days he will rise.” The disciples don’t understand. We get it; then again we’ve heard this story and its outcome often. As for the disciples, well, it was all new.

I wonder if they understood the words, but couldn’t wrap their heads around the possibility that it could actually happen, and what it really means. I also wonder how many people today can’t wrap their heads around the possibility that it could actually happen, and what it really means.

This is the first story in our reading today. There is another whole story, Jesus defining leadership. Anyone who wants to be first must be the very last, and servant of all.

Then Jesus does the unthinkable, he took a little child in his arms and said to them “Anyone who welcomes a little child like this on my behalf welcomes me.” What makes this unthinkable is that children were the least in the society. Children were completely without standing or power. Jesus brings someone without standing and says those who welcome the weakest on my behalf welcome me.

I’ve noticed American politicians don’t spend too much time breaking bread with the huddled masses yearning to breathe free these days. Political dinners that run $50,000 a plate and up are closer to the norm. There is Thanksgiving of course, where politicians will serve dinner at a shelter for a while, on camera. Of course, Jesus would rather us welcome the weak, the poor, and the homeless 364 days a year and take one day off rather than the other way around. Jesus would have us do this because anyone who welcomes the weak on his behalf welcomes not only him but also the Father who sent him.

This must have convicted the disciples who had just argued with themselves who was the greatest. They were concerned with their place in this life when their master was concerned with their place in life eternal.

These two readings seem unrelated. One was on the road and the other was in a home. One was on route and the other was at destination. These types of road shows aren’t that hard to connect, but there is something more that connects them.

To truly understand what’s going on, to truly understand what Jesus is trying to say, Jesus requires time with his disciples. Jesus desires a relationship with his disciples that require nurture. In truth, it is impossible to truly be a true disciple of Christ without spending time with Jesus.

What’s even more difficult to get a hold on is that the time they spent together on this earth was not enough. One of the glories of the Last Supper is that Jesus rushes to teach his disciples as much as possible as quickly as possible. It’s like a teacher doing a review session before a big exam, and the disciples faced quite an exam.

Even more difficult is that only when they saw Jesus again, after the resurrection, did they really begin to understand what had happened. Only after the resurrection could they begin to understand what Jesus meant when he said that he would be betrayed, killed, and rise again. Only after it happened did they begin to understand what it meant.

It meant that all the power of Rome and the Temple could bring him death, but it could not keep him from defeating death. All of the power of the people, the nations, the power elite, could not keep Jesus from doing what he had come to do, pay the horrible price so that we could be in full relationship with God.

Jesus tells us that yes, we have power. We have great and terrible power, but we should seek his power. We should seek his purposes.

When looking over what I was going to say this morning, I began to wonder, “Where’s the joy?” Here’s one answer to that question: Jesus came to reconcile all of us, all of us, with what God envisioned before the beginning. By his life, he shows us how to live. By his life, death, and resurrection he shows us that we are called to live eternal life by him today, not some later time after our death in the heavenly realm. Life is more than something to be endured, it is a joy to be shared and Jesus joyfully shares his whole life with us, calling us to share his joy with all creation.

So what does this mean to us this election season? What does it mean when all of our leaders embrace $50,000 a seat fund raisers among the elite, seeking the best place at the table? What does this mean when all of our leaders embrace the powerful over the powerless? What does this mean to us when we want to live forever, not realizing that’s what’s going to kill us all? What are we to do?

First things first, we must acknowledge that if we come at the facts with our minds made up then the facts will support what we already know. I recently read of a preaching professor who wondered how a student, a young man whose faith tradition was different from her own and her seminary, she wondered how the way he analyzed scripture always led him to the place he had planned to go all along? She thought this was odd until she figured out the answer, she does the same thing. Everybody does the same thing!

It’s difficult to break the bonds of our preconceived notions so that we can learn something new, but the gospel requires us to look at things in the new light of Christ. If we don’t open ourselves to the new things Christ continues to do, we will never move beyond who we are now, and who we’ve been before.

Next we must acknowledge that the way our government works right now is flawed. Whether it’s the permanent campaign that seeks to hold power, or the slavery of a system that forces people to scratch for almost nothing just to stay alive, or whether it’s favoring moneybags who have come a long way in the economic recovery of the past five years with increasing corporate revenue and near record high stock market values without creating jobs; what we are doing is flawed.

There’s enough blame to go around, but we will never be strong as long as we worry about who’s right and who’s wrong.

Here is our shame, right now our government operates on the principles of us and them. All of us should be very afraid of them. They’re on the border, they’re hoarding, they’re working the system, they’re coming to get you and they’re coming to get your stuff. They’re coming to bomb us back to the Stone Age or they’re going to tax us back to the Stone Age.

And this is what happens when our leaders focus more on the things of the world than on the things of God.

By the way, if you’re going to ask me who “they” are, well, I won’t. For one, I don’t really think I know. There is so much information with so little analysis and so much analysis with so little information that figuring this stuff out is a full time job.

Another is pastorally; I know if I find and then share an answer then I’m going to upset someone. This way I have a better chance of upsetting everyone the same. But if what I have said makes you uncomfortable, we should remember that as many have said, “the purpose of the gospel is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable,” I’m comfortable with that.

As for the whole church and state thing, well, that’s the state’s matter and not mine. Still, Neal, Tom, and Georgia[3] would remind us all that properly maintaining our tax status is important.

There is still one more thing to be said about our leaders, about how we judge those who govern us. This again from William Sloane Coffin: “There are three kinds of patriots, two bad, one good. The bad ones are the uncritical lovers and the loveless critics. Good patriots carry on a lover's quarrel with their country, a reflection of God’s lover's quarrel with all the world.”

This brings us to our point of view; the one Jesus was sharing with his disciples all along. The disciples were in an “us and them” modus operandi. The disciples thought they and Jesus were “us” and the rest of the world was “them.” Jesus teaches that this is not so. Jesus is Jesus. He is himself. Everything else is us. Jesus came to save us all. It’s not “Us and Them,” it’s “Us and Him” and he came to join us fully human to share our life, to be in full relationship with us. Jesus calls us to join in relationship with Him. Only through relationship will our lives be what he wants and expects from his disciples.

In the end, that’s what the folks who put together the Lectionary want us to see, that Scripture is filled with God’s love played out in relationship with all creation. As Christ is with us, we are all in this together.

[1] http://timelovesahero.blogspot.com/2012/09/this-sermon-was-heard-at-first.html
[2] Coffin, William Sloane, “The Collected Sermons of William Sloane Coffin, The Riverside Years.” This sermon came from 1977.
[3] Church accountant, treasurer, secretary

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Political--Not Partisan

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday September 16, 2012, the 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time.



Proverbs 1:20-33
Psalm 19
James 3:1-12
Mark 8:27-38

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

Published in 1964, “Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer” by C. S. Lewis[i] takes the form a collection of letters sent to a fictional friend named Malcolm. About ten years ago, Christian book publishers were revisiting this form of literature. Wm. B. Eerdmans published “Letters to New Pastors,” the Michael Jinkins foray into this genre.

Instead of one recipient, Jinkins letters are received by several. Among the recipients are a man seeking spiritual direction, a woman having difficulties in her vocation and at home, and a man suffering from burnout. The first letter is to a new pastor named Malcolm who writes in one letter that he “hates church politics.”[ii]

Jinkins answers Malcolm’s concerns deftly reminding him that he grew up in the church, his parents were elders in the church, and if it weren’t for politics there wouldn’t be a church. Jinkins calls church politics “a group of people trying to work out how we live together.” In fact that’s how Jinkins defines politics in general, “people working out their common life, people negotiating their values, beliefs, and aspirations, and the varying degrees of influence necessary to promote the values and beliefs they hold precious and the aspirations they think are worth the work.”[iii]

To Jinkins “the church is more than that, but it is certainly not less than that.”[iv]

From modern media, television, radio, papers, magazines, internet; it’s difficult for me to find similarity between what passes for politics and Jinkins’ definition. Too often all I hear is yelling. I hear emotional arguments. I have even heard people ask not to be bothered with facts while making a point. There is information and bad information. There is rumor and innuendo.

As Mark Twain once said there are lies, damn lies, and statistics.

Here’s my point, setting aside how we exercise our partisan political process, politics is about how we live together.

The word political comes into our language from the Greek word for city. It has entered our lives in some very familiar place names, Indianapolis, Minneapolis, and the ever popular Metropolis. Geographers use the term “megalopolis” to describe a large area that includes several major cities and their hinterlands that form a geographic economy. Simply, politics has to do with how a community operates.

I mention the difference between textbook politics and the current American version of politics because of something President George W. Bush’s second Press Secretary Scott McClellan, wrote in his book “What Happened.”[v] McClellan talks about how American politics has shifted from using power to change things and make them better to a pattern of gaining power for the sake of having power. He talks about a model of governing called “the permanent campaign” where working out our common life is forsaken in exchange for maintaining power within one political party.

Let me take a moment to point out that as McClellan noted President George W. Bush’s administration worked under the principles of the “permanent campaign;” the concept itself was created by Patrick Caddell, an advisor to President Carter in the late 1970’s. If the people who govern us are guilty of this sin as McClellan says, then it is not the failing of just one side of the political aisle, it belongs to both.

Then Jesus said, “You do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men.”

This gem came after one of the most dramatic scoldings found in the New Testament. It is heard after Jesus calls Peter “Satan” and tells him to back off. Of course, this happened because Peter told Jesus that he was all wrong about what it means to be the Messiah.

Jesus tells his disciples what it will take for him to be the Messiah, the Christ; this after Peter rightly says Jesus is the Christ. People had guessed that Jesus was one of the ancient prophets, or maybe the reincarnated John the Baptist. Peter is the one who when Jesus asked “Who do you say I am” proclaimed “You are the Messiah, the Christ.”

Jesus told his disciples what shape it would take. It would take suffering. It would take rejection by the most powerful people in the land. It would take physical torture. It would take his very death.

I wonder if at this point Peter quit listening. I don’t really blame him if he did. Yes he should have been paying more attention, but after hearing this litany of woe the internal cries of “Oh my Lord, no, this cannot be!” must have been deafening. Whether this is what was happening or not, Peter completely missed the part about the resurrection.

Peter heard that his Rabbi, his teacher, was going to be treated unbearably. Peter heard his friend was going to suffer. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. I wonder if any of us would be different, hoping and praying such wretchedness would not come to your friend and your Lord, but that is not what the life and the resurrected life of the Christ is about.

Jesus promised pain and suffering and he promised his light at the end. Then, to make his point, to make the truth known, Jesus calls all of the people with ears to hear and feet to gather and receive the truth. He calls everyone to know the cost of following him. “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it.”

This is the problem I have with Caddell’s “permanent campaign,” there is no sacrifice. Anything that could cause controversy, anything that can cause the nation to feel the slightest distress is avoided completely. As much as can be swept under the national rug is, despite the twenty-four hour news cycle.

These days most news organizations are little more than a place for merchants to sell their goods. Each network becomes a niche for a particular set of viewers—customers. “News programs” are just the bridges that link one set of commercials to the next.[vi] So if something comes up that isn’t supported by the mission of the network or the whims of its viewers, it is often ignored or discredited.

That’s why I watch “The Daily Show” on Comedy Central. They try to discredit everything, including themselves, all for the sake of the laugh. Of course, that’s their corporate mission. This irony escapes no institution, including the church.

On Friday, Harriette, Tom, Lisa, and I were in Fort Worth for the Presbytery meeting. By the way, if you ever considered hating church politics, this was the time. The meeting featured two major pieces of business, one of which included a “Covenant Agreement” in its appendix. The agreement reads:

In order to: promote the ongoing faithfulness of our members in the work of the Mission of God through Jesus Christ; exercise “mutual forbearance”; treat others with respect regardless of theological and ecclesiological differences; and work for fairness to all parties in our decisions, therefore, the Presbytery Council of Grace Presbytery and the congregation of the space for congregation name Church of space for name of city, Texas covenant to follow this Procedure and abide by its terms as a way of discerning God’s will for the relationship between the congregation and Grace Presbytery.[vii]

After this paragraph there is space for this document to be dated and signed by the congregation’s pastor and Clerk of Session, the Presbytery Council’s Moderator and the Stated Clerk of the Presbytery. The proposal attached to this covenant did not pass. If it had, I would not have signed it.

The reason comes from the Ordination Vows taken by every Elder, Ruling Elders and Ministers alike. One of the constitutional questions we all answer is “Will you fulfill your ministry in obedience to Jesus Christ?” My vows do not ask me to fulfill my ministry in obedience to a piece of paper.

Elders are also asked if we will, “sincerely receive and adopt the essential tenets of the Reformed faith as expressed in the confessions of our church as authentic and reliable expositions of what Scripture leads us to believe and do,” and “be instructed and led by those confessions as you lead the people of God under the authority of Scripture, and be continually guided by our confessions?” This piece of paper and its covenant do not carry the weight of the essential tenets of the faith. Neither will you find such a document or a place to sign on in any of our confessions.

Elders are also commended by ordination vows to “be governed by our church’s polity, and abide by its discipline.” We are also to be “a friend among your colleagues in ministry, working with them, subject to the ordering of God’s Word and Spirit.” (Sounds like our Call to Worship from James, doesn’t it?) Friends, if I will not abide by the polity of the denomination and the rules of the presbytery, surely one more sheet of paper will not secure my allegiance.

Friends, when I am not a gracious Elder, one more sheet of paper will not make me that way.

Our vows, the vows all elders take, detail ways which make us better Elders; enabling and encouraging us to live into these vows, spreading the Gospel, and being better children of Christ.

This covenant, even more than adding one more layer of “assurance” in a world filled with uncertainty and sin, is warned against in Matthew 5:37 when Jesus says to the crowds “Simply let your ‘Yes’ be ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No,’ ‘No.’” In the case of this “Covenant Agreement,” the Presbytery was being asked to take an oath to a process written by men.

This I could not in do. If push had come to shove and I was required to sign this paper, it could have been at the expense of my ordination. I do not think it would have, but it surely could have been taken to Presbyterian courts which can suspend or revoke my ordination. But Jesus asks “For what good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?”

Is it worth the integrity of the Word to sign a piece of paper promising to obey a policy that deals with what Jesus calls “the things of men,” above “the things of God?” I say no.

If you wondered what all of the hullabaloo is about, I’m not saying. In fact I have not told you what it was about. I have even taken the name of the procedure out of the covenant. The reason why is because it doesn’t matter. It just doesn’t matter what this whole thing is about. It doesn’t matter because if it’s not one thing it’s another. If it’s not one “thing of men” it’s another. It doesn’t matter because if I am not asked to sign a loyalty oath today, I may be asked to sign one tomorrow.

This is the bad side of the nature of politics, sometimes we are asked to set aside our convictions, our beliefs, our values for someone else’s. To our Lord this is not important because we are being called to a standard more important than “permanent campaigns” and “loyalty oaths.” We are called to lose our lives for the sake of the gospel because that is the only way we can save our lives.

Jinkins ends his letter to Malcolm paraphrasing the theologian Reinhold Niebuhr: “Politics is the arena where conscience and control meet, where ethics and power collide, and where we must work out the tentative and uneasy compromises that make it possible for us to live together.”[viii] In the church, the only source of political power, the only judge of how we live together is the Lord our God.

My sermon title today comes from the realization that our world is political. Considering that the world and the church is nothing less (but surely more) than how people work out living together on God’s good earth that should be evident.

What our faith is not about is partisan politics along the lines of how it is demonstrated in our nation. God is sovereign above all, certainly sovereign above our political parties. God is not bound to our partisan ways. God works to bring reconciliation to the world, which is contrary to the permanent campaign that seeks to do nothing more than hold and gain power for its own sake, not for the sake of citizens. It is when we see beyond our divisions that we begin to work together, not ashamed of the Son of Man, becoming an instrument in the coming glory of God.

[i] Lewis, C. S., “Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer.” (1st American ed.), New York: Harcourt, Brace & World 1964.
[ii] Jinkins, Michael, “Letters to New Pastors.” Wm. B. Eerdmans: 2006, 39-44.
[iii] Ibid p. 40, italics original to the text
[iv] Ibid p. 40, italics original to the text
[v] McClellan, Scott, “What Happened: Inside the Bush White House and Washington's Culture of Deception.” New York: PublicAffairs, 2008.
[vi] This point was actually made about all television in Dan Jinkins book “Life Its Own Self, the Semi-Tougher Adventures of Billy Clyde Puckett and Them.”
[vii] Grace Presbytery Stated Meeting Docket, Vol. 33, No. 4. Book 2, inserted page.
[viii] Jinkins, Ibid. p. 44. Jinkins footnotes this reference to: Neibuhr, Reinhold, “Moral Man and Immoral Society.” New York: Scribner, 1932, 1.4.

Sunday, September 09, 2012

Focusing on Distraction

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday September 9, 2012, the 23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time.



Proverbs 22:1-2, 8-9, 22-23
Psalm 125
James 2:1-10, (11-13,) 14-18
Mark 7:24-37

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 “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” British science-fiction-slash-comedy author Douglas Adams wrote about a computer named “Deep Thought” who was created to answer the greatest question of all: the question of life, the universe, and everything. It took thousands of years before the computer gave the original programmer’s great-great-great-et cetera-et cetera-et cetera grandsons the correct answer: forty-two. Yes, the answer to the question of life, the universe, and everything is forty-two. Realizing this answer would not satisfy the waiting crowd, these sons of sons began to really worry about what would come next.

Of course Adams’ book doesn’t leave us hanging. He goes on into a total of five books in what is known as “The Hitchhiker’s Trilogy”[1] before it was all said and done. But the answer to the question of life, the universe, and everything is forty-two? A whole number? No wonder the grandsons were feeling antsy. As for me, I would have imagined the answer would have been a fraction like “Pi” or some odd mathematical constant like “e” or an even weirder imaginary number “i.” By the way, if you don’t know what these numbers are, that’s my point—the answer should be something more mysterious than the product of six times seven.[2]

I bring up these weird statements because this week Jesus’ life is filled with weird statements.

It begins as Jesus left the place where he had just told the Scribes and Pharisees that their vision was too small. He told them that their purification might keep their digestive system kosher, but their minds and mouths were another matter, one not handled by their careful washing. So Jesus heads northwest to the region of Tyre and Sidon, or in English, gentile country.

Now, Jesus did not come to this place to teach, if he had he would not have snuck into a house. Why did Jesus sneak into town? Was it because his own church government wasn’t happy with him? Was it because he wanted to go to the sea for a religious retreat where he wouldn’t be distracted? Was it because someone offered him a place up north to take a rest? This is one of the times I get to say “I don’t know and it may have even been none of the above.” Scripture doesn’t tell us why, but it does say “He entered a house and did not want anyone to know it,” which means he did not come to teach. For that, he would go where he could be found.

He is found, of course. In gentile country he is found by a gentile woman, a Greek from Syrian Phoenicia. This woman is out of Jesus’ circle on so many levels. She is a woman in a man’s world. She’s a gentile in the presence of a Rabbi. She’s a Greek in a land far from home. In gender, race, and residence—she has no place in the world of Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus is well aware of this. Her daughter, a little girl in a grown man’s world which gives her less social standing in front of Jesus than her mother, this woman’s daughter is demon possessed and she knows Jesus can help.

Last spring, the Lifetime TV Show “Army Wives” had an episode where a company of soldiers was ordered to rescue some aid workers. When they got there, the aid workers wanted to take the orphans too. The Colonel said no, his orders were clear, no orphans. He was begged to call HQ to see if the orders could be changed. HQ said no changes, aid workers only. They begged, but the Colonel said no, he couldn’t change his orders and he wouldn’t disobey them either.[3] Maybe this was why Jesus did what he did. His standing orders had nothing to do with the gentiles, not then anyway.

Jesus says “Let the children eat all they want for it is not right to take their children’s bread and toss it to their dogs?” This is what Jesus says. Jesus! The guy who we see walking with the little children, all the children of the world, divides them between his children and their dogs. Israel is the children of God; Mark’s rendering of this story makes this point crystal clear. Then some people try to soften this. They say that Jesus is calling the gentile children puppies, cute little pet puppies.

In seminary they teach that if there are two different ways to read scripture, go with the toughest one. God doesn’t take the easy way out and neither should our interpretation. Yes, the word for “dogs” could be translated “cute pet puppies,” but I want us to consider something more likely, something tougher. I want us to consider Jesus called the gentile children a pack of stray dogs, the kind the animal control officer takes to the shelter.

If Jesus saying your children are no better than stray dogs, as weird statements go, that’s weird enough for me. But it gets even weirder when the woman calmly reminds him even “the dogs under the children’s table eat the children’s crumbs.”

Those of you with children or grandchildren and pets know what this is; someone throws something on the floor and the dog gets it, but this week, another image crossed my mind. Imagine Jesus laying out the miracle of God like Cheerios on a high chair tray. Now imagine the little ingrates who either know no better or just want to act bratty throwing those oaty-oh’s on the floor. The Scribes and Pharisees throw the word of the Lord like so many Cheerios to the ground. Can you blame the dogs for eating their fill?

There’s a Greek woman from Syrian Phoenicia who says no. There’s a gentile woman who says that if your own people won’t taste and see the Lord is good there are others who will. As someone said during our study on Thursday, Jesus was schooled. Jesus was taken to the woodshed of the Lord by a woman with no social standing.

Jesus was humble and righteous enough to know when he had been schooled though. For her reply, her hopeful, faithful reply, her intercession was granted and the demon was gone.

Jesus was looking for one thing, but got something completely unexpected. This would have come to nothing if he weren’t willing to focus on the distraction.

So then Jesus went to the Decapolis, the ten cities. According to Mark’s gospel Jesus took the long way there too. He went somewhere between thirty to fifty miles or maybe even further out of his way to get to the Decapolis. This could mean one of several things. Maybe Jesus needs a new travel agent. Maybe the authors and editors of this part of the gospel needed a map. The reason I think is likely is that Jesus wanted to take the long way. Jesus wanted some time on his own.

So for whatever reason, after taking the scenic route, Jesus comes to the gentile region west of the Sea of Galilee. There a deaf man with a speech impediment was brought to him. His friends begged Jesus to lay his hands on the man.

Important historical note! At this time, things like birth defects were chalked up to sin. Somebody sins, and this is why Tony is a deaf-mute. Was the little girl in the last narrative demon possessed or did she have some kind of medical seizure disorder? Well, from our reading we know what the doctors of the day had to say about that.

So Jesus takes the man aside and to make a long story short, he opens the man’s ears and loosens his tongue. He can hear well and speak plainly.

The people were overwhelmed. Despite the Lord’s wishes, the people proclaim, “He even makes the deaf hear and the mute speak.” Of all things, what makes that proclamation interesting is the word “even.”

Sure, bum rushing a demon out of a little girl; it takes someone special to do that. To make the deaf hear and the mute speak; to heal a birth defect—a birth defect rooted in sin—that requires God. Only God can forgive sins. When they said “He even makes the deaf hear and the mute speak” they weren’t just talking about special ability, they were saying that he does things only God can do.

If Jesus had stayed to the beaten path and ignored the distractions, we would have none of this. Jesus focuses on the distractions around him and this becomes his mission. A broader mission than the one he had only a half chapter earlier. We learn something very special from these very odd narratives from Mark’s gospel. We learn first about not faith that can move mountains, but actions that can restore the world.

These people, the woman and the friends, they had heard of Jesus. He was not their savior, he belonged to Israel. In the midst of the social and racial distance between them, these people knew that Jesus could and would work a miracle in their lives. They knew, somehow, someway they knew Jesus would save their friends and family from the separation sin and disease put in their way. They knew Jesus would save them.

They knew what James writes,

What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save him? Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, “Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.

Suppose a brother of sister is without clothes and daily food? Dang, the Greek woman said as much to Jesus, and she dared him not to respond to the needs of the people Jews saw as less. Yes, Jesus shied away from this new mission to start, but he came around. The twin controversies of a woman confronting the Lord and the Lord being schooled were tremendous, but not so much that her desires were not heard and healed.

The faith of the gentile mother and the deaf-mute’s friends was not dead. They brought their concerns to the glory seat of Christ where they were heard and healed. By their faith in Christ and their actions; a little girl and a full grown man are restored to their loved ones and their place in the community. This is a glimpse of the restoration Christ promises to us all. These two are returned to the people who love them. They now have the opportunity to lead full rich lives.

This is the hope of all Christians today—restoration, reconciliation with God. This is a restoration of more than our health, it is a restoration from the wages of sin and a reconciliation with the Lord our God which has been broken since the fall. This is the community from which sin separates us. In Mark’s distractions, a mother reminds Jesus of his present and future mission. Later in this trip, Jesus demonstrates he has learned that lesson with the men in the Decapolis.

Jesus could have hung a shingle and said, “Gone fishin’,” but when confronted by the distractions life put in his way he responded with care. He balked first, but Jesus answered when the new call came into his life.

We too need to stand up for others like Jesus did, even when it’s an interruption, a distraction. We need to look around into the faces that do not look like us and see what the Lord is calling us to do. Some days we too need a reminder as harsh as the one Jesus received. Even when our distractions are controversial, they aren’t nearly as controversial as the one Jesus got in this reading.

“Deep Thought,” the super computer from “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” told these fellows that while the answer they received to the question of life, the universe, and everything is correct, they had no idea of what the question really is. Later author Douglas Adams answers the question of life, the universe, and everything; and the answer is “What do you get when you multiply six by nine?” This answer is not expected for at least two reasons. The first reason is that the ultimate question should be more than a math equation. The second is that when you multiply six by nine, the result is fifty-four, not forty-two.

This teaches us that sometimes the questions and the answers don’t add up to us, but they do to a greater power. In the book this power is a super computer. In our world the power is God who wants us to be reconciled to the Lord and to one another. Sometimes when we don’t get what we expect we end up playing favorites, the kind of favorites Marie warned us about in today’s children’s sermon; the kind of favoritism Jesus scolds the Pharisees about, the kind Jesus himself practiced with the gentile woman. When we are able to focus on the distractions, sometimes—that’s just where God wants us to be.

[1] The final paperback called it “the increasingly misnamed Hitchhiker’s Trilogy”
[2] On a side note, I took two semesters of calculus in high school and retook them in college, eventually earning “C” grades. That said, I have no idea how to use e, not a bloody clue!
[3] UPDATE: One of the aid workers stayed behind and the kids were rescued which caused a controversy. The Colonel and his company were absolved of wrong doing, they did not disobey an order and they stayed within their pay grades. 

Sunday, September 02, 2012

Family Squabbles

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday September 2, 2012, the 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time.



Song of Solomon 2:8-13
Psalm 45:1-2, 6-9
James 1:17-27
Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

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 April 2012, Texas Monthly magazine ran a cover story on Outlaw Country Music. Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, and Kris Kristofferson were on the cover. (It’s understood that Waylon hated the term “outlaw country,” but hey, if the shoe fits…) It was a good article with lots of insights about the roots of the movement and the people who made it happen.

One of the anthems of Outlaw Country is the song “Luckenbach, Texas.”[1] As many of you know it’s a song about a couple whose “successful” of life has put strains on their marriage and finances causing them to feud “like the Hatfields and McCoys.” It seems a bit of a stretch to compare the 70’s version of modern life to a murderous blood feud that was nominally started over a pig. On second thought, that sounds about right. Family squabbles, be they about money or time or land or honor or whatever, are still family squabbles.

I bring this up because this week I was challenged to consider what this gospel passage means if you think about it as a family squabble. The first thing it would mean is that there is a family connection. Since this conversation was about how Jews exercise their faith, it definitely qualifies as a faith family squabble, and few squabbles are bloodier than squabbles about faith.

Mark 7:3-4 tells us what was going on with this squabble. The Pharisees and all the Jews (meaning the Temple leadership) held to the traditions of the elders when interpreting the law. Because of that, they would ceremonially wash their hands before eating. Since their food needed to be ceremonially clean too, they observed other traditions about washing cups, pitchers, and kettles. These traditions were the way they interpreted the law, not the law itself.

So to sell to the scribes and the Pharisees, merchants would have to follow those traditions too. This added a whole layer of things market merchants would have to do if they intended to sell to the leaders which increased the cost of the production without promise of sale.

Being holier than Jesus, the temple elite ask why the disciples don’t “follow the traditions of the elders instead of eating their food with unclean hands.” This is an interesting question because there are two ways to look at this cleanliness. The leaders could be asking Jesus why his disciples eat with dirty hands rather than washed hands, but that is not likely. Probably they are asking why his followers eat with “ordinary” hands and not “sanctified” hands like them.

I take this latter interpretation to be more likely because Jesus invokes the prophet Isaiah to warn the Pharisees and all with ears to hear that they are hypocrites, pretenders, who honor God with their lips but not with their hearts. They live according to their traditions instead of the commands of the law. They have let go of God’s ways and replaced it with their own. In this case, with their hand washing, they have made it so that what goes in is more important than what comes out. That’s the squabble, the Pharisees demand more and the disciples are following Jesus instead of them.

Using Isaiah, Jesus says their worship is in vain. He says, No, that is not my way.

Presbyterian Family Connections
In your bulletin today, Georgia has included a picture called “The Presbyterian Family Connections.”[2] The first time I saw this image was about ten years ago and I can’t decide whether this made everything more clear or more cloudy. What in the early 1700’s had a single beginning split in 1741 and reunited 17 years later.

Later in the 18th Century, Presbyterians in three distinct branches split into five by the turn of the century. We have split and reunited with fellow Presbyterians several times over the past three hundred years. There are two distinct branches of the church called the Evangelical Presbyterian Church. The only reason this image ends in nine different Presbyterian branches is that the tenth that broke off this year hasn’t been added yet.

On a side note, it makes me smile sheepishly to consider the name “Orthodox Presbyterian Church.” I love all of my brothers and sisters in the faith and I know we have our differences. I am with the branch of the denomination that fits me best, but I shudder to think that any fellow Presbyterian denominations could be considered “unorthodox.” Such was the theological climate in the 1930’s, and it’s not so different than it is today.

We all have our squabbles. Marie and I once actually belonged to a congregation that had one of its worst arguments over carpet color. ClichĆ©, yes, but that doesn’t make it less true. The spat over the carpet divided the Ladies’ Circle.

Another squabble this congregation suffered was two different controversies over speaking in tongues. That’s right, this happened not once but twice. As for the semi-official opinion of Grace Presbytery, they would just assume we never speak of it. Considering the squabbles that follow, I understand their opinion.

I don’t know the Presbytery’s view on carpet.

So family squabbles have existed in the church since there has been a church. The example Jesus presents us today is a squabble that predates Christianity as a faith. This squabble has to do with how people lived their Judaism. It’s really a squabble we won’t really fully understand because we don’t have an oblation ceremony, a ceremonial washing.

As for the first major Christian squabble, it was settled in 35AD at the Jerusalem Council. Found in Acts 15, the council decided that the new gentile believers did not have to become Jews before they became Christians. It also decided that while the new believers did not need to be circumcised, but they still needed to follow the Jewish dietary restrictions, keep a kosher table.

What’s funny is that these days we circumcise most boys and hardly anyone keeps a kosher table. This is just the way we have worked out that particular family squabble and did it in the exact opposite way of the orthodoxy established between Peter and James.

In their own ways, these things like washing, circumcision, and even carpet are things we establish to help us live faithfully. Yes, even carpet—imagine someone coming in late with the click of a heal, clomp of a boot, or slap of a flip-flop. Carpet means something. It’s when these things get in the way of us following the commands of God; this is when we get into trouble.

Jesus tells us what kind of trouble in verses 21-22. From within come evil thoughts and evil intentions. These evil intents lead to evil acts. Evil acts lead to, well, evil acts are contrary to the ways of God.

The way we are called to live is found in our reading from James. He teaches that every good and perfect gift is from above. It comes from the Father of us all. God creates us so that we may be a kind of “first fruit,” a blessing on all creation. James further teaches us that we are to keep a rein on our tongues, and if we don’t our religion is worthless. He then says, “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.” It is by giving and sharing that we live and serve God as the first fruit of life.

Our Old Testament reading was from the Song of Songs. Scholars have different views of why this belongs in Scripture. Some say it is a collection of songs Solomon sang to his beloved. Others say it is a metaphor for how God loves creation or the church. Today I want us to look at it from a different perspective. I don’t want us to look at it as a way to love, but as a way to be loved.

The song tells us God so loves us all. God loves us in ways we can never imagine, but the song shows us a specific way that we are loved. God loves us with strength and vitality; leaping like a gazelle or a young stag. God loves us so much that we are begged to follow, “Arise my love, my fair one, and come away.”

God loves us in a way that ends the long cold winter of sorrow and shame, pain and discontent. Beauty arrives in God’s love. Flowers appear and the song of the turtledove is heard in the land. Figs bloom and fragrant vines grow.

Then God says, “Arise my love, my beautiful one, and come with me.”

Lord, let us hear this command. We must discard the discord and the rules that people put in the way of faith. Let us hear that in God’s eyes we are all beautiful. We are beautiful and we were made to be loved. God wants us to be loved. As the first fruit, God wants us to love one another. We will never do this as long as we erect barriers. These obstacles will always get in the way of loving and being loved. Our family squabbles keep us from being the church God calls us to be.

It is up to us to consider what we do, everything we do, and decide what’s window dressing and what’s important to the faith. It’s up to us to look at everything; worship, mission, hospitality, study, everything; and decide what are the commands of God and what are the traditions of man. We need to get rid of everything that gets in our way, no matter how much we love it. Because if it gets in the way of God’s commands God does not love it.

Our lives are filled with stresses, and like the couple in the Luckenbach song those things are killing us. But there’s a line in the song, one that comes right before the chorus, which should be our guide. Waylon sings, “Maybe it’s time we get back to the basics of love.” That’s it friends. The way we live our lives and our faith is killing us and the Church, not just the Presbyterians but all denominations. And I say “Maybe it’s time we get back to the basics of love.”

It’s what James says. It’s what Solomon sings. It’s what Jesus says when he says the two greatest commands are, “You shall love the Lord your God and your neighbor as yourself.” It’s not time to throw out the baby with the bathwater, we should never discard what is important; but it is time to do as Jesus and Waylon require. It’s time to get past our family squabbles and get back to the basics of love.


[1]Luckenbach, Texas (Back to the Basics of Love) by Chips Moman and Bobby Emmons, 1977.
[2] Presbyterian Family Connections, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Connection2_900.jpg, retrieved August 26, 2012.