Running on Empty

This sermon was heard at St. Andrew Presbyterian Church in Shreveport, Louisiana on Sunday June 28, 2015.

2Corinthians 8:7-15
Mark 5:21-43

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

For me, some weeks the gospel takes a hold and insists on being preached in a particular way. Others it opens itself up and wishes me the best of luck. These are wonderful passages, glorious stories of faith, healing, and redemption. Power through weakness is a tremendous lesson that needs to be told. It needs to be learned. It needs to be shared. So often we hear “might is right” and in today’s readings, not so much. So in a week where so much has happened, how to approach these words?

Our reading today from Mark, the story of the hemorrhaging woman, is one of those gospel stories that you can’t hit head on, you have to come at it on a tangent. People who come at this head on do so because they think they know more than they really do. So what do we need to know that we don’t?

First of all, something we do know, doctors in the day were men. Well, up until the last fifty years that wasn’t so unusual, and fifty is probably generous. What this means for the passage is easy. What a male doctor knew about a woman’s bleeding was laughable at best but more likely disastrous.

Here’s what you may not know: Most doctors were slaves, house slaves where they earned their keep.

I almost hate to bring this example from popular culture, but as for its historical accuracy it had its moments. How many of you saw the TV show “Sparticus” on Starz a few years ago? One of the slaves who worked in the bowels of the Ludus, the gladiatorial school, was the Medicus, the doctor. The doctor tended to the free and the slaves, the rich and the poor. Of course the quality of care was directly proportional to your value the Lanista, the head of the Ludus, the master of the house. If you were Sparticus no expense was spared for your care. If you were a valued friend of the Lanista, no problem. If you were a dime-a-dozen slave girl you were cast aside before the Medicus finished the diagnosis. The point, the medical doctor was a slave, a slave without the status of the gladiators he would heal.

Kind of puts a new spin on “Luke, the good doctor,” doesn’t it?

Now let’s consider this woman from Mark’s gospel. She had been suffering hemorrhages for twelve years and had endured much under many physicians. Together, these two statements show us that she was a woman of means. Let me explain. If she didn’t have social status she would not have had entrée into a house with a physician. If she didn’t have the coin, she would not have been able to afford the sundries the physician would have needed or the payment the master would have required. Without money or status she would not have gotten any care; so in one way or another she was well to do, and more than likely she was well to do both socially and financially.

Forgive me for sounding crass, but I’m going to go out on a couple of limbs here. This kind of bleeding is most likely a feminine issue; possibly associated with childbirth, scripture gives us no clue and my knowledge isn’t adequate to provide a proper diagnosis. For the purposes of this narrative I would also guess she is a widow. I don’t believe a woman who is divorced, put out of her house by her husband, would have had the social standing to enter a fine house. Nor would she have had the financial capital to pay for her care. But in the same breath I can’t imagine a man who would stick with a wife who is (if she is Hebrew) ritually unclean. That is why I believe she is widowed.

So here she is, she’s in a socially precarious spot. She is bleeding. If Hebrew, she is unclean. Probably widowed. Children unknown. She has used her all money and her influence to try to find a diagnosis for her ailment. After twelve years she has run out of cash and favors and the doctors have been as effective as a bunch of shade tree mechanics looking under her hood and saying, “Oh, I see your problem.”

I have to add something here, if there’s a man in this sanctuary who thinks “I understand” please don’t say that out loud. We really don’t. We can try, but we really don’t. Look at the woman sitting next to you, see that smile? Yeah, that’s what I mean, we don’t know.

She has nowhere to go, so she comes to Jesus. She comes to Jesus believing if she can even touch the fringes of his robe she will be healed. Praise God! Praise the Lord! This is what happens!

Her faith in the power of Jesus, this is what saves her.

On Friday February 13, 2004 I was in seminary taking Mission and Evangelism. One of the things we had to do was a mission project so we could write a brief report. That semester I was also doing my internship at Central Presbyterian Church in downtown Austin. On this Valentine’s Eve, the weather was nasty. The temperature was below thirty degrees, it was rainy and sleety, and the wind was out of the north and whipping around the downtown buildings. The city mission agencies declared a Freeze Night meaning the emergency shelters would be open. A fellow seminarian, the Reverend Rick Brooks now of Dallas, he and I volunteered to man the shelter at Central.

We got there about 4:00 that afternoon to open at 5:30. We got the stuff for dinner ready and got the sleeping mats together for the evening. Rick had some writing to do so I set him up in the church library. Me, I had some reading so I set up downstairs in the youth room closer to the people.

About 7:00 PM, a woman came up to me and asked if I knew where to find a tampon. I had been working at the church for about six months had no idea if there was a mysterious stash of feminine hygiene products hiding in the church. I knew there weren’t any in the men’s rooms (duh!), but of course I had never been in the women’s. Like a dummy (I mean I had to ask but I still felt like slapping myself in the back of the head) I asked if she had checked all of the women’s rooms. She had and there weren’t.

I never felt more impotent in my life than I had in that moment. And as for where to find a tampon in downtown Austin on a Friday night, I was at a complete loss. I couldn’t leave and it wasn’t like she could go across the street to the fancy-schmantzy hotel to drop a quarter in the Ladies’ without being tackled by a valet before making it through the threshold. Such a simple request and I was at a complete loss. A woman hemorrhaging and there was nothing I could offer her except a stupid look, a bad question, and a vain apology.

Well, there is one thing I have done for her. At every church I have served since I made sure there are feminine hygiene products available in the Ladies’. I believe it is literally the least I can do.

These women were held hostage by their bodies and their circumstances. There was nothing they could do. They were going to bleed unless something happened. We know how their stories ended too. One was healed by the touch of Jesus. She touched the Christ, if just his robes, and by her faith in his power she was healed. As for the other woman, she came to the Body of Christ and while we were able to provide a couple of meals and a warm, dry place to spend a cold, wet night; I was unable to stem the tide.

There’s an old expression for this kind of situation, running on empty. Running on empty. Fatigue sets in, frustration amps up, despair rears its ugly head. Extremes of distress, horror, terror; these unwelcome guests make their way into your life.

But our reading from Corinthians show us that Jesus had his own version of running on empty. Could Jesus have opened up a can of all that’s holy on creation and set things straight? In the world of “coulda” the answer is yes. In a world where God is love the answer is no.

Paul tells the church at Corinth, “the generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich.” Love never imposes its will. Love that imposes its own will isn’t love at all. Love empties itself of power and glory so it may be offered freely; so that it may be accepted freely.

Out of running on empty comes the brilliance of running on something else. When you’re running on empty, fully and completely running on empty, there is only one place to turn. The hemorrhaging woman in the gospel was running on empty and when she turned to Jesus in faith, her faith in his power healed her. This is the power of faith in the Good News of Jesus the Christ.

Jackson Brown is a singer/songwriter who wrote some wonderful music in the late 70’s and 80’s. One of his best albums is 1978’s “Running on Empty.” A live album of newly released music, it chronicled what it meant to him to be on the road touring in the late 70’s. Through Brown’s eyes, his words and music made one of the best albums of the 1970’s. He sings:

I don’t know where I’m running now, I’m just running on,
Running on, running on empty,
Running on, running blind,
Running on, running into the sun,
But I’m running behind.

But here’s the thing about running on empty, when we’re running on empty, we run. We run on and we run blind. We run for money. We run for power. We run for prestige. We run for what makes us feel good. Sometimes we run for what makes others feel bad to make us feel good. We run into the sun thinking light and warmth are enough when in truth we’re running behind.

For Christians, for us, there is only one place to turn. The hemorrhaging woman in the gospel was running on empty and when she turned to Jesus in faith, her faith in his power healed her.

Jesus ran on empty. He could have picked up the power of God which is his, the power he was tempted with at the beginnings of the gospels of Matthew and Luke. He could have opened up a can of all that’s holy. He could have been the all-powerful God we often want him to be but then he would not have been the all loving God we need him to be.

Looking out at the road rushing under my wheels,
I don’t know how to tell you all just how crazy this life feels,
I look around for the friends that I used to turn to, to pull me through,
Looking into their eyes I see them running too.

The lesson of the hemorrhaging woman is that, like she did for twelve years, we rely on our riches and we rely on our status and we rely on our friends and these things don’t get us what we need or where we need to be. We rely on our strength. We rely on “might making right.” We run to places that seem right at the time, but in the long run are places we don’t need to be. It is better to run to our weaknesses because in our weakness the glory of Christ is made full.

Paul tells us that even Jesus, the Christ, the Messiah; Jesus emptied himself. Jesus is running on empty and by that the power of God is made full in him. So for us, when we run on empty and stop relying on our own wit and wisdom we let God lead our lives. In our weakness is God’s strength. It’s not about our glory, it’s the glory of God in Christ.

It’s time to stop the bleeding and lean into the outstretched arms of the loving Lord.

The Whrilwind

This sermon was heard at the Broadmoor Presbyterian Church in Shreveport, Louisiana on Sunday June 21, 2105.

Job 38:1-11
Mark 4:35-41

People talk about the patience of Job. As for me, I don’t know if he was patient or not. I mean he was abused for the amusement of Satan, which is more than just a proper name. Satan means “opponent” in Hebrew. Job was surely opposed. He lost everything but his wife and the servants who told him his kids were dead, his slaves were slain, and the livestock that wasn’t dead was taken.

To add insult to injury, he was then infected with enough boils that he must have looked like a steroid abuser without the muscular development. In an effort to help, his wife advises him to curse God and die. Then three friends show up and after waiting together for a week they ask him what he did wrong.

No wonder Job cries out, “Let the day perish in which I was born.”

So was Job patient? It sounds better than other things he could have been called. It sounds better than what he was called by his so-called friends. His friends blame him for what is happening to him. “You must have done something wrong.” “Your kids must have done something wrong.” “If you hadn’t done something wrong you could stand confident in your innocence in the presence of the Lord.”

They say, “Your sin undermines your worship.” “You must not know God at all” and the kicker, “your piety is the reason for your punishment.”

Job’s had enough of his so called friends. He argues back like a man with nothing to lose—and in an earthly sense he doesn’t. His friends are miserable at consolation. They actually speak falsely. They’re not helping. Job wants to know what in the wide, wide world of sports is going on.

The Lord hears it all.

Last week I told you in passing that I was a business major, but my first major was meteorology. Storms fascinated me, in fact, they scared me to death. I thought if I understood them better they wouldn’t frighten me.

Now, this was in a time when the radar products we have now wasn’t available. The paths of storms might have been known better to the professionals at the National Weather Service, but that sort of information wasn’t making its way to our homes. The first time I saw anything with storm tracking technology on television was in 1998. Then last month when Marie and I were here worshiping with you, while we were having lunch I got an alert on my cell phone about a Tornado Warning in Marion County and I could see the Hook Echo, a radar indication of a tornado, on my phone.

I feel better knowing where the chaos is and where it’s going, especially when it’s not heading for me. Who doesn’t? Working at the Motel 6 in Marshall, people are happy when I can tell them if the storm is bearing down on us and when it has passed.

Chaos, power, death; this is the whirlwind. The Hebrews knew this. The Hebrews knew the whirlwind was powerful. They knew it was mysterious. They knew it was unpredictable.

The voice of the Lord comes out of the whirlwind. Job wants to know what’s happening and why it’s happening to him and the Lord answers. Sort of. The Lord answers by showing Job how little he knows about the mystery of creation. Forget the mystery of God, forget the mystery of life, the Lord begins to tell Job how little he knows about creation.

Mark’s gospel gives us the Lord Jesus and another storm. Jesus and the disciples are on a boat on the sea during a tempest. Let’s remember that several of these disciples are fishermen, these guys know the dangers of the sea. These men knew that every year craft capsize and are lost. They knew people die every year on the water during storms just like this one. So what’s their Lord doing in the midst of this terror? Taking a nap.

Jesus is on the stern, resting on bags of ropes which could not have been comfortable. On that lumpy bag, being tossed on the sea; Jesus is sleeping while all around him is going to thunder. Finally someone asks the question of the hour, “Do you not care that we are perishing?”

I’m going out on a limb here, but that seems to be a universal question. “Lord, do you not care that we are perishing?” We have times in our lives, times of illness when we ask “Lord, do you not care that we are perishing?” There are times of oppression when we ask “Lord, do you not care that we are perishing?” There are times of anxiety when we ask, “Lord, do you not care that we are perishing?” There are times of fear when we ask, “Lord, do you not care that we are perishing?”

In those times Jesus looks at the chaos and says, “Shalom, peace,” and the storm is stilled.

Amazed and afraid the people ask, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?" A meteorologist can forecast the weather. A meteorologist can run a storm track to show where the storm is going, what way the wind is going to blow. Only God can calm the storm and the sea. Who is this? Who is this indeed. To take a line from C. S. Lewis, the disciples knew Jesus was good, but at this moment they could also tell he probably wasn’t safe.

Where is God? God is in the stern of the boat. God is in the whirlwind. Emmanuel, God is with us. When life has fallen apart around us, God is with us.

In the past several years Marie and I have been overwhelmed. Two churches have closed while I was their pastor. Medical bills reached epic and epidemic levels. We were covered in a mountain of debt. It wasn’t like we spent money on lavish vacations or high living. We even became homeless for a couple of months, with thanks to my boss for allowing us a room at the motel until we moved into a new apartment just yesterday. J. R. Briggs’ book “Fail, Finding Hope and Grace in the Midst of Ministry Failure,” calls this “non-moral failure.” I didn’t steal money or someone else’s affection, and yet…

Where was God? It was hard to see. It is hard to see, but God is right beside us. What if I hadn’t been working at the motel when we lost our old apartment? Marie was finally approved for full social security disability. It took way too long and that had financial consequences of its own, but she wasn’t denied in the end. As bad as our situation is, it could be far worse.

Last week I was working at the motel and got a Facebook post from the Rev. Sharon Risher, a seminary classmate and friend who is a hospital chaplain in Dallas. At 9:30pm on Thursday she posted this, “There had [sic] been a shooting in Charleston, SC @ Emanuel AME church. My home church! Please pray for all. Don’t have much info.” Eight hours later she posted this, “My mother was one of the nine victims killed last night in Charleston, SC. I’m at a loss and only know that the God I serve will receive her. Momma loved The Lord and her church. I know where she is, God will see my [sic] and my family thru. Thanks to all for your prayers, calls, and FB post. To God Be the glory. Pray without ceasing!”

I now have to add, it wasn’t until yesterday that I discovered that not only was Rev. Risher’s mother a victim of the shooter, so was her mother’s cousin. One family member is tragic. Two is reaching for a Job-like level of loss.

Where is God? In the midst of the whirlwind, chaos blows. The President calls for gun control. Fox and Friends calls for arming preachers. (Can you imagine me trying to get a “Dirty Harry” hand cannon out of these robes? I have enough trouble shutting off the microphone!) In the midst of the storm a lone gunman longs to ignite a 21st Century race war. In the midst of the danger lives are lost for the most flimsy of reasons and fingers are pointed for worse ones.

Where is God?

In the midst of terror and horror, in blood and death, as people use the tragedy of others to promote political agendas, where is God?

All I know, all I know is God is with us. God is with Job in sackcloth and ashes. God is with the disciples being tossed on the sea. God is with those who mourn in Charleston. God is with my sister Sharon. God is with us.

God is faithful when others are not. God is present when your friends judge you wrongly. God is with you when your closest confidants blame you for what get called “acts of God” which are anything but. God is with you when danger threatens your very being. God is with you when your livelihood is gone.

God is with you when a man who—I don’t have the words to describe—rips your mother and her cousin from this life because they’re black and love Jesus. God is with us when people take holy and personal tragedy to make political hay.

In our pain, in our suffering, when we are in the whirlwind being tossed like a salad, Emanuel, God is with us. God suffers with us. God mourns with us. God whose loving kindness is without bounds takes us and opens us and touches us.

The disciples ask who is this who can take our fear, or suffering, or pain, who is this who can take this away with a word of shalom, a word of peace? He is Jesus Christ.

Does this mean tomorrow I’ll be called to a new church for a wage that will settle my family’s financial woes and make student loan people will happy? No, but after not preaching for months, over the past several weeks I have served as a guest in three different pulpits and will be preaching and celebrating the sacraments over the next two weeks, so yes, we have been blessed.

As for what happened in Charleston, people are coming together in the name of the Lord to serve God’s people. Another seminary classmate has even put together a PayPal account to help Sharon with travel expenses. The President of the Carolina Panthers is paying the funeral expenses. God is with us calling us to be a blessing. We can’t bring back Rev. Risher’s mama or her mama’s cousin, but by the grace of God we can help her be with her family at this tragic time.

As for the mystery of the whirlwind, a friend shared these words from Rabbi Harold Kushner, “The role of God is not to explain and not to justify but to comfort, to find people where they are living in darkness, take them by the hand, and show them how to find their way into the sunlight again.”

We all live in the darkness, may we reach for the giver of light. May we then be the hands that takes others into the light again.

Amen.

How It's Made

This sermon was heard at Broadmoor Presbyterian Church in Shreveport, Louisiana on Sunday June 14, 2015.

1Samuel 15:31-16:13
Mark 4:26-34

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

I currently find the church today fighting about rules. Some people scour scripture looking for commandments, laws, rules, instructions—mitzvah. Fence posts that border a straight and narrow path to righteousness. Others look toward rules that are less formal. They look at stories and narratives and draw lessons from them. I confess, I love a good rule, but it’s the unwritten rules, ones learned by the examples of faith, that I find fascinating and more important.

Kingship follows a set of rules that have been handed down for generations. And let’s not think that Americans are immune to this. It was only a few weeks ago that American news followed the BBC awaiting the birth of Princess Charlotte, now fourth in line for the British throne. How do we know she’s fourth in line? Since 1689 the Protestant descendants of Sophia the Electress have formed the line of succession to the British throne. The first king in this line was George the First. Sure, there were about 50 closer blood relatives to Queen Anne, but they were all Catholic and the new rules, and blah, blah, blah, and et cetera, et cetera, et cetera… How well established is this line today? There are currently over 5,000 members of the royal family ranked in order for succession to the British throne and Charlotte is firmly in fourth place.

But there is also the informal; for those of you who prefer fiction, George R. R. Martin’s “Song of Fire and Ice” saga (or as it’s better known by its HBO title “Game of Thrones”) has such wonderful intrigue behind the Iron Throne that many of you are nodding your heads as I speak. (And isn’t the big question “Who is John Snow’s mother? Because if she’s a royal he may have a legitimate claim to the Iron Throne of Westeros and if that’s true… I’ll leave it at that. I’ve made my point.)

In the days of Samuel Kingship was just as formal and filled with intrigue. Saul was king. He wasn’t a good king anymore, but he was king. It saddened Samuel. He mourned the state of the kingdom, but the Lord had other plans, plans of succession that did not include the sons of Saul.

The Lord set Samuel on a mission, a mission to anoint the next king over Israel. The Lord even laid out an alibi in the event that word got back to Saul that the prophet was on the road. Samuel reaches his destination, sees the sons of Jesse, and declares “Surely the Lord’s anointed is now before the Lord.” The Lord replies, “Yeah, but slow down and wait for it. Don’t judge a book by the cover.”

Ordinarily, the line of succession would be Saul’s eldest son, Jonathan. The Lord had decided this wasn’t going to be the future of Israel. Seeing the progeny of Jesse, Samuel thinks he sees the next king of Israel in the eldest, but that isn’t what the Lord has in mind. Nor is the next son nor the next. Not even the seventh son, and seventh sons have a special place in the world, not even he is good enough for the Lord. It’s the least likely of all of Jesse’s boys, the youngest, the eighth, he is the Lord’s anointed. David is anointed by Samuel and the journey of the king who knew God’s own heart is begun.

King David knew God’s own heart and we ask what is the kingdom of God like? Jesus gives us so many images, today we are given two agricultural parables. There are many ways to interpret parables, but today I want us to take mystery from these parables.

“The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow and he does not know how.” Now I’m sure that some of these agricultural mysteries are now known, but hey, I was a business major in college. I’m amazed by the concept that from a single seed a plant will sprout. From that plant, a head of grain will rise. From that head, more seed will be formed. It amazes me, from a single grain many are born. From the poverty of one comes many, I find that glorious! And as Jesus says, it’s a mystery, we don’t know how this happens.

You know my penchant for the texts, so this is my tangent into that rabbit hole. One of the literary devices of Hebrew poetry like the Psalms is that in couplets the second half amplifies the first. Jesus uses that here when he goes from the general mystery of plant life to the specific mystery of the mustard seed. Jesus begins with a general and focuses it sharing how the very smallest of seeds can produce a plant big enough to provide shade; a plant big enough to house a family.

How does this happen? How does the glory of God work? How is the kingdom of heaven made? It’s a mystery.

You have heard me talk about some of my favorite TV shows. Another of my favorites is a Canadian show called “How It’s Made.” First run episodes are found on The Science Channel in the US and reruns can be found on Discovery. As the title suggests, the program shows how things are made. In a six minute segment, a voice over explains a manufacturing process as video takes us through it. I love it because while it demystifies a product, at the same time it opens my up new ways of seeing things. Things that seem simple show their complexity and things that seem complicated become simple. That yen and yang of mystery and demystification fascinates me.

Kingship, we know how it’s supposed to work. We know how a king is supposed to be crowned but that’s not how a king is made. What it takes to rule, well, that’s a mystery. We will come to know that David knows God’s own heart. David will be a great king. David will follow the ways of God. Well, for the most part he will. He will also fail. He will murder Uriah the Hittite. Yet, he is still the man who knows God’s heart, and that’s the mystery. As a piece of the eternal mystery we need to be good custodians of it.

So where do we begin?

We have to begin by knowing, and I mean really knowing that God is a rule breaker. Rules that we have established mean little to the Lord our God. The rules of succession are today’s example. David, the youngest son, the eighth son of Jesse is tapped by God to rule Israel. There is no earthly way that David becomes king, no way on earth! And that’s the rub. The way to David’s kingship is not an earthly way. The way to David’s kingship comes through the grace of God. Our understanding? Our wisdom? These are swept up in the mysteries of God.

Further, rules that come from God that we think we understand are still shrouded in Holy mystery. What we think we know we really do not, not as well as we think we do. Mark 3 provides an example with Jesus explaining the Sabbath to the people, his disciples, and the temple elite. The people who are charged to know, the people who are trained to know do not. Jesus shows them that the mystery is deeper than they have seen. The commandments, laws, rules, instructions, and even the mitzvah are fractured because we think we know more than we do.

Jesus shows us that what goes on behind the scenes, or in the case of the seeds and the plants what happens underground, is beyond not only our understanding but our control. Jesus shows us that we see a reflection on the surface of the water and tells us that these waters run deep. It’s what is below the surface that matters. It’s what we can’t see, it is in that mystery where God lives and works.

What this ultimately means is that as Christians we need to be a little softer with one another because we don’t always know what we think we do. We need to lean into the mystery of God in Christ. We need to open ourselves to grace because we don’t fully know the laws we think we think we know so well.

The brouhaha de jour in the PC(USA) concerns the 1001 Worshiping Communities initiative. If you want more details I commend you to the Presbyterian Outlook website with a cup of good coffee and the better part of an afternoon. In a thumbnail, four of the 1001 leaders took $100,000 from the initiative and created a corporation to set up New Church Initiatives in California. When the Presbyterian Mission Agency, the parent of 1001, discovered this they were not happy. The four men who organized the corporation met with PMA and the $100,000 was returned. From there, well, it gets a little hairy.

The way I understand it, when this began in October 2014 the four men were reprimanded and told to “go and sin no more.” Then on November 15, 2014 the four were placed on administrative leave and an investigation was launched. On June 1 the four were dismissed for ethics violations, which they evidently found out through the media after PMA sent out a press release. I grieve that I probably found out about their dismissal the same time they did through Facebook.

Since then there has been a storm in the Presbyterian Mission Agency. The agency spent $850,000 on their investigation and there’s still one more lawyer left to be paid. They spent a million dollars on $100,000 that had been returned! The four were dismissed the way you would fire a banking executive from ING (well, actually not, ING execs got bonuses, but that’s another story). They were not disciplined like Teaching Elders using the PC(USA) Book of Discipline. And the report, a report paid for by generations of Presbyterians who intended their donations to be used to spread the gospel, is under lock and key in Louisville, unseen even by the men who were dismissed because of its words.

Please understand, I don’t know what the report says. I don’t know what the investigation turned up. Were there ethical lapses as claimed? I don’t know. I do know that nobody ever claimed that what happened was criminal, nobody ever. That would be different.

What we do know is that in the ruckus in the church the PMA spent a million dollars on legal matters when it might have been better served to use church discipline instead. It spent a million dollars to find guilt. This is what happens when you treat pastors like employees, ministers like executives; and it’s not pretty.

If we as the church had the faith to lean into the mystery rather than rush into commandments, laws, rules, instruction, and yes, mitzvah, we may not be in this boat; and maybe that’s one of the harsh lessons we take from this. When we lean on formal laws instead of the example of Christ we leave no room for grace. When we seek commandments we bind ourselves to legalistic actions.

When we ignore grace, we only remember David’s crimes and neglect his kingship. With David and with these men we must remember they are servants of the Lord and they have erred. The question is “where do we go from here?” The question may even be “have we gone too far?” All I know is that it could have been different.

“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes-and ships-and sealing wax-
Of cabbages-and kings-
And why the sea is boiling hot-
And whether pigs have wings.”

Human beings are naturally curious. We want to understand. We want answers. We want to know how it’s made. We want to know how kings are made. We want to know what the kingdom of God is like. Today I invite you to relax in the mystery of shoes and sealing wax and cabbages and kings. Know that there are holy things we will not understand and because of this we need to cut one another some slack. When we rely on rules we will only find rule breakers. When we seek the Lord we can say there are mysteries we do not understand and we don’t have to understand them. When we seek the Lord we find forgiveness, we find grace.

Love God, love the mystery of the mustard seed and rest under its shade. Know the only truly worthy king is Christ our Lord. Know that when we rely on rules we miss opportunities for grace and spend a million dollars when it may be enough to say “I love you, I forgive you, now go and sin no more.” Through forgiveness, through grace, this is how peace is made.

Amen.

Enough Rope

This sermon was heard at St. Andrew Presbyterian Church in Shreveport, Louisiana on Sunday June 7, 2015.

1Samuel 8:4-11, 16-20
Mark 3:20-35

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

On my next birthday I am going to be 53 years old. To some of you I am old enough to be your grandfather. To others I am old enough to be your grandson. To my parents I am old enough to be me. Funny how that works out, isn’t it? What that age makes me is of an age that I love old cartoons, the ones I grew up watching in the 1960’s. In all honesty though, give me the ones that are just a little older than those. Give me the old Tex Avery MGM “Tom and Jerry” cartoons any day.

One gag that never got old in my seven year old head was any one of the half dozen Tom and Jerry cartoons that featured a bulldog named Spike. Spike was often tied up to his dog house and would chase Tom the Cat until he got snapped back when he reached the end of his rope. It was probably too violent and I probably laughed a bit too loud when Spike got snapped back.

On the other hand I was never comfortable with Tom teasing and taunting Spike and I would always be relieved when Tom got his. Spike would always find a way to trick Tom so the overconfident cat would get too close and Spike would be able to get Tom. Again it was probably too violent and I really did laugh too loud when Tom got what was coming to him. From a reformed theological point of view I was getting way too much amusement out of violent cartoon justice or instant cartoon karma and not looking nearly enough toward grace.

Our reading from Samuel comes at one of the hinges of history for the Hebrews, the moment when the people of Israel went from being ruled by Judges to being ruled by Kings. Two reasons were given for this change. The first is found in our reading and it’s every parent’s nightmare, Israel wanted a king because every other nation had one. The other reason is that the days of the Judges didn’t end well. The last verse of Judges reads, “In those days there was no king in Israel; all the people did what was right in their own eyes.” Let’s face it, when people, sin stained people do what is right in our own eyes, it doesn’t end well, the end of the book of Judges is just one fine example.

Unfortunately Kings are no less human than Judges and this isn’t starting on a good note either. Sure, Samuel’s kids aren’t the best, the elders of Israel say as much, but Samuel knows the people have a King. Samuel knows the people have the King of Kings and need no human king. Samuel knows this, and of course the Lord knows it too. And the Lord is gracious to Samuel telling him, “Listen to the voice of the people in all that they say to you; for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them. Just as they have done to me, from the day I brought them up out of Egypt to this day, forsaking me and serving other gods, so also they are doing to you. Now then, listen to their voice; only—you shall solemnly warn them, and show them the ways of the king who shall reign over them.”

Obedient to the Lord, I can see Samuel shrugging his shoulders. He goes to the people and tells them what the king they want will do for them. He warns the people, “These will be the ways of the king who will reign over you: he will take your sons and appoint them to his chariots and to be his horsemen, and to run before his chariots. He will take your male and female slaves, and the best of your cattle and donkeys, and put them to his work. He will take one-tenth of your flocks, and you shall be his slaves. And in that day you will cry out because of your king, whom you have chosen for yourselves; but the LORD will not answer you in that day.”

The people had taken just enough rope and were warned that they will be snapped back like Spike at the end of his leash. So do the people head toward renewal? No. Do they seek the prophets? Sorry, not tonight. They want a king. They want somebody human to lead them, or as Tex Avery would put it, to put the rope around their neck, draw the line in the sand, and whatever else happens before they get snapped back like Spike.

The people tell Samuel what they want. The Lord tells Samuel it’s not his fault. The world rejects the Lord, not the man. Samuel warns the people and the books of the Kings and Chronicles show that what is warned comes to pass. When the people cry out in the days of the kings the Lord does not answer, not on that day. The Lord gives the people enough rope and the people run to the end of it.

Since this isn’t a cartoon my seven year old self has quit laughing.

Our reading from Mark’s gospel shows us the beginning of the day when the Lord answers the cries of the people. As usual, it features more people trying to do the work of the Lord. Just three chapters into Mark and Jesus has been accused of blasphemy and of other less heinous acts against the powers of the church. He has forgiven sin. He has healed on the Sabbath. He has taken fishermen, zealots, a Roman collaborator, and a pair of guys so loud they are known as the “Sons of Thunder.” He has taken a guy who will question him at every turn, and a doubter. It seems the only person flying under the radar is Judas. So maybe it’s no wonder that the people who have “known him all his life” would be a little concerned.

Seen as a man, seen as a carpenter named Jesus from a backwater in Nazareth, he looks like a guy thwarting conventional wisdom, the faith of a thousand years. He’s a man turning the faith on its very ear, seemingly without the authority to do so. From all reports his family might have thought he was nuttier than a fruitcake.

The family tries to bring him home. Maybe they think he’s tired, it’s time for a break. Exhaustion is a very real possibility. They try to get him to come home. Scripture isn’t quite as subtle. “He has gone out of his mind!” “He has Beelzebul, and by the ruler of the demons he casts out demons!” Well, at least they give him credit for good work, eh?

But Jesus tells them, no. Satan can’t cast himself out. The kingdom divided against itself cannot stand, a house divided against itself cannot stand; and Jesus is talking about the kingdom of evil, the house of Satan. You can’t plunder the house of Satan without tying up the big man first. And then, boy, oh boy.

Jesus is doing the work of the Lord. The Lord has come, Emmanuel, God with us; he has come to set us free. Jesus is doing something new and all the people can do is try to tie the old ropes of the judges, the kings, the scribes, the Pharisees, and the temple elite into a lovely bow to snap this new prophet back into place. Snap him just like Spike.

If there is one thing though that we can see it’s this; first, the ropes that we use to tie up our lives will never be used to confine the Lord. The restrictions, the constrictions that we use to keep ourselves in line will never tie up the Lord. Not even our understanding of holy things like Sabbath will keep the Lord from doing what is needed even on the Sabbath. Earlier in chapter three this is shown as Jesus heals on the Sabbath and gets an earful for his trouble.

It’s not that Jesus doesn’t understand Sabbath, it’s more likely we don’t understand it. What Jesus knows as the Son of God is deeper than we can see in this mirror darkly. Regardless of the day, we tie ourselves to our kings and their rules when the King of Kings shows us the better way.

The other thing that is more important is that the Lord doesn’t use our ropes to let us hang ourselves. Now it’s true, the Lord allows the people of Israel to pick up enough rope to hang themselves and watches as they put themselves on the leash of a human king. The Lord has Samuel warn the people of what will happen if they stay the course and of course it does. The future of the Kings even comes to pass without the Lord jumping in the way. God doesn’t take a bullet for us to stop the kings. Crying for help in the days of the Kings the Lord does not answer, not on that day.

What the Lord doesn’t do is act vengefully. The Lord never says to the people, and allow me to quote a fine Catholic theologian, “If that’s the way that you want it, then that’s the way I want it more.”

The Lord loves the people enough to allow them to fail. The all-powerful Lord could whip the people into shape, but the all loving Lord suffers with the people as they seek their way until they find their way back. Yes, the Lord allows us enough rope, the Lord even allowed the Kings to enslave his own subjects with that rope, but the Lord will never hang us with it.

God is love. God loves us enough to let us be who we are. God loves us so much that the Lord never forgets that we belong to Christ even as we call him “possessed by the Lord of the Flies.” When people act like petulant seven year olds, a feat that is far worse at thirty-seven, forty-seven, and fifty-seven than it is at just-seven, God still loves. God even shows us that it is the human rulers who snap us back by the leashes we fashion, that is what causes the Spirit to mourn.

Sure it was funny then, and if I see those cartoons now I still might laugh. Tex Avery had a way of putting together cartoons—animators, artists, writers, and musicians—in ways that appeal to the funny bones of multiple generations. But Avery’s goal was always to amuse, to entertain. Thanks be to God our Lord doesn’t leave us to our own devices. Our hope is in the Lord who comes and is not offended by our foolish insult. Our hope is that the love of God never changes. Our hope is that we see that only God’s perfect love, not the ties that bind, are our salvation.

Amen.