Ladies and Gentlemen and Children of All Ages

This sermon was heard at the Broadmoor Presbyterian Church in Shreveport, Louisiana on Sunday July 7, 2013, the 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time.

2Kings 5:1-14

Psalm 30

Galatians 6:7-16

Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

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

During last week’s sermon,[i]  the Reverend Freeman told a story about his grandfather the Reverend Freeman. Jim’s grandfather was a talented man. Among his many skills was the ability to ride his bicycle’s handlebars facing the back wheel, his feet pedaling backward to move the bike forward… while juggling. That must have been a sight. In the story, a member of the congregation loaned Grandpa Pastor Freeman a plot of land so that he could plant a garden. On the day he began to till the plot, everyone came out to watch him work the land.

Already having the title of today’s sermon in mind, my first thought was, “Ladies and gentlemen and children of all ages! Step right up! Step right up and see the Plowing Pastor! Can he plow a straight line while facing backward on the Tilling-Two-Wheeler-of-Death? Watch and see as he attempts to juggle the seed into the farrows!” and that’s when the high school band drum line kicks in to increase the tension until the cymbal crash and trumpet voluntary at the end of the stunt.

So that was just me, huh?[ii]

“Ladies and gentlemen and children of all ages…” Whenever we hear these words we know that something exciting is going to follow. This is the cry of the Ringmaster, the Master of Ceremonies under the big top who lures our attention to the center ring, drawing our attention to what’s important. In fact, the only reason the Ringmaster is important is to draw our attention to the main attraction.

This is what Paul is getting at in his letter to the Galatians. He’s trying to make sure that nobody gets suckered into the bad P. T. Barnum sideshow the Scribes and Pharisees are trying to get the church to buy. Our reading from the New Revised Standard Version is a very good translation of what Paul says; but the New Living Translation has fewer $5.00 words and better English sentence structure. This makes Paul’s intended message more transparent. Verses 12 and 13 read:

Those who are trying to force you to be circumcised want to look good to others. They don’t want to be persecuted for teaching that the cross of Christ alone can save. And even those who advocate circumcision don't keep the whole law themselves. They only want you to be circumcised so they can boast about it and claim you as their disciples.

Paul is telling us these church leaders make lousy ringmasters. They aren’t drawing the Galatians to what’s important. Their evangelism is for their own benefit, not for the church. They are trying to sell a bill of goods they don’t keep because they can’t. They aren’t pointing to what’s in the center ring. They are trying to draw attention to themselves so their peers will think they’re big shots. Their goal is to bring people to themselves, not to Christ.

Paul even says that whether they are circumcised or not doesn’t matter to Jesus. It’s not the flesh that matters. Paul says what counts is whether or not they have been made a new creation. It’s not what we look like as much as what we become and what we do as a new creation that makes a difference to the Lord. It’s people who live as a new creation that truly come to know the peace and mercy of God.

Let me make this clear—I don’t think this can be said often enough—our salvation does not hinge on what we do. We are saved by grace through faith. What matters to God is that we are transformed and how we are transformed by our salvation. If our transformation is only skin deep, it won’t matter much to us, the world, or to God for that matter. If we aren’t transformed by our salvation, it’s like being a dried out piece of clay in the potter’s hand. The potter’s hand is the one place where clay can be made into something useful, but dried out it’s nothing more than a lump. As Paul says, we reap what we sow.

A tale of transformation is found in our gospel reading. Many of us know this reading well, the “Sending of the 70.” [iii] What we know is Jesus sends these believers out to all of the cities and places he intends to visit. These men who were sent are sent with a mission. They are sent with instructions, and some new rules.[iv] First and foremost, Jesus says pray. They are told to pray first then act.

Jesus sends them with two pieces of advice. He tells them it’s dangerous out there and travel light. As Jesus sends them he says, “Go on your way. See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves.” Or in the words of Cat Stevens, “Hope you make a lot of nice friends out there/But just remember there’s a lot of bad and beware.”[v] Under those circumstances, this is good advice; when in danger, it is best not to be burdened by stuff.

These instructions also mean they will have to depend on the Lord for their provisions, and not their packing skills or wiles.

 

They are told when they enter a home to say “Peace to this house!” If the peace is shared, the peace will remain. They are told to stay and accept their hospitality. This way they rely on the Lord for their safety, their lodging, and their sustenance. They aren’t supposed to scope out town looking for a better offer. They are to rely on the Lord to show them where they are supposed to be so that they may do remarkable things.

 

If the peace is not shared, it will return to them. Then while leaving, they are to knock the dust from their feet in protest.

Then too, some of Jesus’ instructions will make them uncomfortable along the way because they aren’t all kosher. One is to greet no one along the way.

 For travelers in this time, greeting involves ceremony. When I lived in southeast Colorado it was traditional when driving down the street to wave to everyone. I was told if you didn’t wave to a neighbor when you passed them on the road then they wouldn’t talk to you again until after church on Sunday. Because your neighbor snubbed you at church, everyone would know you had snubbed your neighbor during the week. If you have a Facebook or Twitter account you know what that means for this century. In a time when greeting someone on the road could lead to an hours long ritual, Jesus tells his disciples to forego ritual and go.

The following command is given twice. When they enter a new town and its people welcome them, they are to eat what is set before them. This command can be difficult for a Jew who keeps a kosher table. Casting aside familiar dietary restrictions in favor of crawfish étouffée would be very difficult for them.

 

Jesus’ ministry was focused on the Jews, but he would be traveling through gentile cities too. Since his recon teams would be going there first, they had to be ready for what was ahead of them. So he gives new rules my earthly father would approve, eat what’s put in front of you and clean your plate.

Jesus’ final piece of advice, his last new rule is to deliver the one message of the coming of the Kingdom of God. He tells them to deliver this message whether facing acceptance or adversity. When they are welcomed into a new community they are to say, “The kingdom of God has come near to you.”  When they are not welcomed they are to say, “The kingdom of God has come near.”

For those who know the peace of God, this will be a blessing, “The kingdom of God has come near to us.” For those who reject God’s peace, this is more a warning than a blessing.  It sounds like a holy version of “Wait ‘til your father gets home.”

When the circus comes to town there is a group that comes a day or two before the show to prepare for the arrival of the main caravan. They do the last minute publicity. They scout out laundromats, grocery stores, gas stations and other places that are important for a traveling show. Jesus sends the seventy to do the advance work and give a taste of what the kingdom of God is like.

Then after the seventy return to home base, they report their wonderful success and Jesus affirms them saying (again from the New Living Translation) “I saw Satan fall from heaven like lightning!” Then Jesus gives them the advice Paul gives the Galatians; don’t brag about what you’ve done. Don’t rejoice “that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”

In this day and time we are called to be the next seventy, sent where our Lord sends us. In prayer we are to seek the way. We are to travel light and beware. We are to rely on God alone and eat what we are given. We are to offer God’s blessing… in one way or another. By the power of the Holy Spirit we are to point to God and God in Christ, not to ourselves. And in Christ, by Christ, and through Christ we are transformed, just like the original seventy 2,000 years ago.

We are to cry out, “Ladies and Gentlemen and Children of all ages! Step this way! Everyone’s welcome!” Then by the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ we may all come into God’s glorious presence where we may survey the wondrous cross together. This is what we have been sent to do.

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[i] Freeman, The Reverend James, “Of Chariots and Plows.” Heard at the Broadmoor Presbyterian Church, June 30, 2013, the Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time.

[ii] I was prepared to say “Okay, so that wasn’t just me, nice” if the people had responded.

[iii] Or “the 72” depending upon your translation, but I preached that several years ago.

[iv] Culpepper, R. Alan. “The New Interpreter’s Bible.” “Luke” section.  Leander E. Keck, Senior New Testament Editor.  Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995, page 222.

[v] Stevens, Cat, “Wild World.”  Off of “Tea for the Tillerman.” 1970.

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.

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[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. 

His Vision, Our Mission

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday July 29, 2012, the 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time.

2 Samuel 11:1-15

Psalm 14

Ephesians 3:14-21

John 6:1-21

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

There is something that scripture does that is both disturbing and reassuring; it shows the heroes of the faith, the people of God, with all of their warts. Today’s Old Testament reading is the prototype. David is known as a man after God’s own heart. The second and one of the greatest kings of Judah, he is the recipient of the Davidic Covenant, God’s promise that David will always have a descendant to reign on the throne of Judah.

Today, we learn of David’s unsavory side. We read that even David can be led by his urges and do something so deplorable that he is willing to do things even more horrible to cover it up. Lies and murder, adultery or sexual assault—David’s acts without apology. This is the great King David. This is the King of Judah.

In Second Samuel, a book that records the works of the King of Judah, this is the sort of thing that would hardly be recorded to glorify the king. This would be like President Nixon writing about Watergate or President Clinton writing about Monica Lewinsky for the history books. It is hardly likely, yet this is what scripture does with all of its heroes. Scripture points to the warts and scars of the heroes of the faith. In scripture we read about David and Bathsheba. In scripture we read about Paul persecuting the church. In scripture we read about Peter’s denial of Christ in the wee hours of the day of Christ’s crucifixion.

In a letter to Mandell Creighton dated April 5, 1887, Lord Acton wrote, “Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”[1] This certainly applies to David in this reading. There are many places where he broke from his responsibilities to the kingdom and the people in this passage. 

We learn that it is springtime, the time of year when the Kings lead their armies into battle. Then we learn that David stays in the splendor of his great palace while Joab wages the war in Rabbah. Considering what is written in this story, I imagine it’s a very hot day in the city of David. It’s so hot, that the city is living on the roofs of their homes. This wasn’t uncommon, in fact the rooftops served as an extra room, a patio. Can’t you just see this, David laying out on some sort of 11^th Century BC chaise lounge, with some sort of 11^th Century BC deck umbrella covering him from the setting sun, while the evening breeze washes over him? It’s positively decadent. 

David awakens and takes a stroll on the rooftop where he sees a beautiful young woman bathing herself on a distant rooftop. Like a voyeur with the world at his beck and call, he asks someone to find out about her. A trusted advisor answers, “Isn’t that Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam, the wife of Uriah the Hittite?” David really doesn’t care who she is, or whose daughter or wife she is, he is smitten. And with absolute power, he can do something about being smitten. 

Bathsheba is called to the palace and the royal bed chamber. If we are to take scripture at its word, in a minimalist sort of way, she spends one night before leaving. If we are to consider human nature and the biology of the human body, she spends closer to two weeks in the bed chamber of King David. Bathsheba stays long enough in the palace to be with David until she becomes pregnant.

In this piece David is written as a lothario taking this war off to stay at home and Bathsheba is faceless. In fact, this story is so vague that it is silent about whether she is a willing partner in adultery or if she is coerced into this relationship by the king. In the meantime, Uriah risks his life on behalf of David and the kingdom. 

Uriah—here’s a man with integrity. The Hittites were a race of warriors, so Uriah is a mercenary. As with any mercenary, he is in the war for the money. But his concern is not with his purse alone. Uriah is a god fearing man; his name even tells the world “the Lord,” Yah, “is my light.” David, the chosen one of the Lord is Uriah’s earthly king and Uriah serves the Lord and David. Uriah is the “flame of the Lord” in David’s kingdom.

Well, David is in a bit of a pickle. The wife of the “flame of the Lord” is pregnant and the husband Uriah cannot be the father of the child. Unless David acts swiftly, this isn’t going to look good on his performance review. So David calls Uriah back to Jerusalem, ostensibly to hear about the battle, but in reality, he does this to cover his shameful actions. Uriah doesn’t bite.

David invites Uriah to go home and spend some time with the family; to go home and wash his feet. Some time ago, the BBC and ABC had a television show called “Whose Line Is It Anyway?” In this show, the cast would improvise scenes around various games and settings. One game was called, “If You Know What I Mean.” The object of this game was to take ordinary sounding phrases and make them sound risqué by tacking on the phrase “If you know what I mean.” So when David invited Uriah to go home and wash his feet, David didn’t really mean go wash his feet… “If you know what I mean.”

But Uriah would have none of this; instead Uriah stays with the slaves. This thwarted David’s plans, David’s cover-up. Between Levitical code and personal faithfulness to King David, the battle, and his comrades in arms, Uriah refuses to go home and partake in the pleasures of home while the battle rages. Uriah stays with the slaves and other servants of David, faithful to all. 

Uriah explains it this way in verse eleven, “The ark and Israel and Judah are staying in tents, and my commander Joab and my lord’s men are camped in the open country. How could I go to my house to eat and drink and lie with my wife? As surely as you live, I will not do such a thing!”

Uriah swears his fidelity to the kingship of David, and David tries to get Uriah drunk so he would go home and wash his feet, if you know what I mean. Uriah remains faithful. Finally, David writes an order to Joab that seals Uriah’s fate. Uriah is so faithful that he delivers his own death sentence. A fate which is executed in verse 17, Uriah is killed in battle with many other troops. Uriah is faithful to the law, to the custom, to his King, and to the Lord. David is faithful to his urges and his desire not to get caught.

I began by talking about the heroes of the faith and their warts. And surely, these heroes are just as human and prone to sin as any other human being. The difference is while they may be the heroes of the faith; they are not the heroes of scripture. The hero of scripture is not just any human being. The hero of scripture is and always is the Lord, the triune God.

As promised last week, today we also heard the stories of the feeding of the 5,000 and Jesus walking on the water. Admittedly we are reading it from John’s gospel, not from Mark’s. That may seem a bit odd but that’s the way the lectionary gives it to us. Going from one gospel to the other gives us some differences, the biggest is the crowd wanting to take Jesus and make him king in John’s gospel. Other than that, there are no important differences between the stories that surround these readings other than their placement within Jesus’ ministry.

To be honest, for our purposes this morning, I don’t know how much it matters. In both there was more to come in the ministry of the Lord and that may be the point. Regardless of the rendering or placement, both stories show us that God is faithful. God’s plenty and abundance overcomes creation and feeds 5,000 men, not to mention any number of women and children, at the Sea of Galilee. God’s power over creation so complete that over what we consider dangerous circumstances, Jesus walks on the water. In danger and fear, God in Christ is present.

There is another story of the presence of God, this one in the dire circumstances of the German concentration camp Auschwitz. It is from the book “Night” by Elie Wiesel. During the hanging of a young boy, which the camp is forced to watch, the main character hears someone ask: “Where is God?” Where is God, indeed? Not heavy enough for the weight of his body to break his neck, the boy dies of asphyxiation, slowly and in agony. Along with the other prisoners, Wiesel files past him, sees his tongue still pink and his eyes clear, and weeps. Here, the story asks that question again:

Behind me, I heard the same man asking: Where is God now?

And I heard a voice within me answer him: ... Here He is—He is hanging here on this gallows.[2]

Where was God in the midst of pain, suffering and despair? Where is God in the cold, and hunger, and the tortured body of boy hanging on a gallows at Auschwitz? God is there, God is hanging on the gallows too.

God’s love is always with us and this isn’t to say that because God is present there will be no pain. In spite of the pain and because of the pain people inflict upon one another, God is present and God suffers as we suffer. God rejoices as we rejoice. And this love is greater than we can ever truly know or understand. 

In our Old Testament reading, David is unfaithful to the nation by staying home in the springtime when the Kings went to war. David is unfaithful to the vows of others when he summons Bathsheba. David is unfaithful to Joab when he takes a valued soldier from the lines. David is unfaithful to the law when he connives a cover up to hide his infidelities. Finally he is unfaithful to creation when he has Uriah, the flame of God, snuffed out. 

In our Old Testament reading, Uriah is faithful to the Lord and to the battle. Uriah is faithful to his King and to his wife. Uriah is faithful to his commander and his comrades in arms. 

It is shameful to see David benefit under these circumstances and Uriah die betrayed by the ones he loves, but this is the way of people, not the way of the Lord. God shows the highest faithfulness to David in keeping the covenant. God shows the highest faithfulness to Uriah by suffering alongside him during his darkest hour. God is faithful to Bathsheba by giving her a son, Solomon, who will become the wisest of all of the Kings of Judah. God is ever faithful to the nation fulfilling the Davidic covenant in the chosen one, Jesus the Messiah. 

God is faithful to us that he suffered death, death on the cross, that we may have eternal life. I do not pretend to understand this. Instead, I rejoice in the one whose power is at work within us. The warts of the people are outrageous, and God is faithful. In a world that is filled with pain and strife, God is faithful.

In a world where we abandon one another like David does Uriah, God does not abandon us. God is faithful. In a world where we come with blemishes, the Lord uses us as we are and by the power of his Holy Spirit makes us more than who we ever thought we could be. As John writes, Jesus knows what he will do, and as he did with his disciples on that hillside he will use us to do it.

God shares our suffering and God shares our joy. This is what makes God the hero of scripture instead of any person. God is eternal, God’s love is abundant, and God chooses to share this abundant life with us. God makes this choice not because we deserve it, but because God wishes to share this gift of grace with us.

Because of this, we are called to do what the people in John’s gospel did not do. John writes the people came, but they came on their own. We are not only to come, but we are to bring our neighbors with us. We are to share God’s gift with the world. Not because anyone deserves it, but because as the 5,000 were fed, there is plenty and we are called to take and eat. Taste and see that the Lord is good—and faithful. That is his vision. This is our mission.

---

[1] Respectfully Quoted: A Dictionary of Quotations Requested from the Congressional Research Service. Washington D.C.: Library of Congress, 1989; Bartleby.com, 2003. www.bartleby.com/73/.  July 30, 2006.

[2] Wiesel, Ellie, “Night.” New York: Hill & Wang, 1960 (page notation from Bantam Paperbacks edition 1982, pages 61-62).

Unforeseen Hope

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let's Start at the Very Beginning, A Very Good Place to Start

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday June 15, 2008, the 11th Sunday of Ordinary Time.

Genesis 18:1-15
Psalm 116:1-2, 12-19
Romans 5:1-8
Matthew 9:30-10:8

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

“Let’s start at the very beginning; a very good place to start; when you read you begin with A, B, C; when you sing you begin with do, re mi.” This is the very beginning (a very good place to start) of the song “Do, Re, Mi” from “The Sound of Music.”[1] Sage advice in any situation, and a model for our gospel reading this morning.

The wonder of the beginning of this passage is the way it starts with a recap of Jesus’ ministry to date. It’s like watching the tube and hearing the phrase “previously on …”

Jesus went all about the cities and villages and teaching in their synagogues. Jesus is not traveling willy-nilly through the countryside. He is traveling with a purpose; he is going to cities with Jewish populations. He is going to synagogues to teach. He is not in the city square or in the marketplace speaking to the world, not yet. He is in the synagogues speaking with the people of God.

Remember, this is Matthew’s gospel, the gospel written to the nation of Israel. It makes sense that Jesus brings his message to the people of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob first; after all, it’s his community, these are his people. He’s starting at the beginning, with his people, God’s chosen people.

He goes and teaches in the synagogues. He brings the proclamation of the good news of the kingdom. He shares again and again the teachings of the Sermon on the Mount. He shares again and again his grace healing disease and sickness. He restores people to their families and to right relationship with the Lord God.

He sees the people as sheep, harassed and helpless, distressed and dispirited. Without a shepherd, they are a people scattered, hungry for leadership. And Jesus has compassion for them. He cares for them more than they could ever hope or imagine. This is when he calls to his disciples “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.”

In this one swift motion, Jesus goes from describing the people of God as a listless flock of sheep, to a bountiful crop ready to be collected. This is not an image of sheep to the slaughter; it is the picture of the people of God being called to worship. It is an image of the inbreaking of the kingdom Jesus promises his people. It is a look what is happening at that moment, happening in this moment, and still to happen in the future.

Jesus then makes a specific request of the disciples. He charges, he calls them to ask the Lord of the harvest to send out the laborers. He doesn’t tell the synagogue to go out and grab a scythe and start bringing in the crop. He tells the people to pray that the Lord to send out laborers.

This is an important turn; it isn’t a request to ask the Lord “what are you going to do with me?” It’s a solemn prayer that the Lord do what the Lord will do. This isn’t the prayer of Monty Hall and “Let’s Make a Deal” screaming “Pick me! Pick me!” This is the Lord’s Prayer, “thy will be done.” This is the call from Isaiah 6 asking “Is it I Lord?” Jesus doesn’t ask us to begin by giving directions; we are to pray to receive direction and to follow.

This is when Jesus makes the important distinction between disciples and apostles. In the gospel, most of the time when we read the word disciple, it points to any adherent of a particular movement or leader.[2] Even in the gospels, “disciple” probably doesn’t point just to the twelve unless the text specifically says so. So in the verse where Jesus tells the disciples to pray, he surely is calling on the twelve, but he also includes the multitude in the synagogue. Now, Jesus summons his twelve disciples and sends them out as apostles. After all, that is what “apostle” means, the one who is sent out.

He sends them out giving them authority, his authority over unclean spirits to drive them out and to cure every disease and sickness. He sends them out to proclaim the good news saying the kingdom is at hand, the kingdom has come near. This is where starting our reading where we did was beneficial. We begin our reading with Jesus going out and about proclaiming the gospel and healing every kind of disease and sickness. Then he commissions, he ordains the twelve to do the same work giving them the same authority.

He calls and commissions the apostles. He doesn’t call just anybody; on second thought, yes he does. Jesus calls very ordinary people. He calls Simon and James and John who are partners in a fishing business with Simon’s father. John would become known as the beloved disciple and Simon would become known as Peter, the rock upon which the church is built.

Matthew the Roman collaborator was called to go out as was Simon the Cananaean, or as he was more commonly known the Zealot. Of course, this list wouldn’t be complete without Judas Iscariot, the one who betrayed him.[3] He too was sent to tell the people of God that the kingdom is at hand.

The only qualification they share is that they are following Jesus. They not are called out because they are special. What makes them special is the one who called them out. He calls together people who probably would not share a meal together much less a mission if it were not for the one who calls them. They were very ordinary men, being called to do extraordinary things with the only authority that makes it possible.

Qualifications are an element of our Old Testament reading this morning too. It begs the question “What makes Abraham and Sarah so special?” Why are they selected to violate the rules of biology and bear children long after their tender years have passed them? We might assume it was because they followed the hospitality codes of the day, providing food and drink to weary travelers. As much as both of these statements are true, scripture makes no connection between the two. These are just as likely to be completely unrelated events as they are cause and effect.

But Abraham and Sarah can claim only one special status, they were chosen. They were chosen to go to from their homes. They were chosen to see the Lord appear at the Oaks of Mamre. They were chosen to entertain visitors. They were chosen to learn through experience that there is nothing too wonderful for the Lord.

The twelve were chosen, and this is what makes them special. They were ordinary work-a-day guys with day jobs and families. They had no special nature that caused them to be chosen. There was no glow. We need to remember this.

They were the twelve, no better or worse than any other human being. Yet while one of them was certainly willing to perform one of the most horrific acts of betrayal recorded in history, others became the first leaders of the church.

Returning to the reading, once chosen, they were given their commission. The commission gives them their call, their authority, and the power to fulfill his instructions. They were given what they needed to do the work of the Lord, including one additional instruction, they were also given limitations.

It seems odd to talk about the limitations, but their commission only went so far. They were told not to go among the Gentiles and they were told not to go to the cities of the Samaritans. In the end there are some reasons for this we can glean from history. The first, again, the Gospel of Matthew was the missive to the nation of Israel. It is only logical that the twelve would not send the Good News to the Gentiles, not yet.

Since the twelve were all practicing Jews, it would have further been unlikely that they would even want to go to the Gentiles. In Acts when Peter finally goes to the home of Cornelius and eats, it is only after a vision from the Lord repeats itself three times telling him to go and eat.[4]

Also in Acts, we learn of a third reason Jesus expressly limits the twelve from going to the Gentiles and Samaritans. Jesus sends another; this mission field belongs to Saul of Tarsus, the one who becomes the Apostle Paul.[5] The mission to the Gentiles and Samaritans wasn’t the work of the twelve because it belonged to someone else, someone who would come later. And as the Pharisee of Pharisees, Paul was more unlikely to go to the Gentiles than any of the other twelve apostles.

So it is only one more indication of the sovereignty of the Lord that the one who would be sent is the most unlikely one of them all.

So let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start. Let us begin by remembering, knowing the Lord Jesus. We need to come together and share the joy of knowing who he is and what he has done. As the people of God we further need to see the people he sees, and see them, see us as both the scattered sheep looking for a shepherd and as the harvest ready to be gathered to the house of the Lord.

We need to begin by praying for those who will bring in the harvest. We need to pray for the people and organizations of the church that do missionary work both works of proclamation and works of service in the nation and around the world. Pray for the groups that have signed what is known as the Dallas Covenant, a group of Presbyterian Mission organizations from all political stripes of the church who have come together to do the work of mission in the church.[6]

Pray too for the nominating committee. It is their job to discern who will be called to shepherd this part of the body of Christ; to lead the church, local and universal, into the future. It will be their job to search from among us to discern who will be called to continue God’s work in the world. And as we pray, don’t be shy to pray “Is it I Lord?”

The last information Jesus gives the disciples before they are sent is that they received their call, their Christian vocation without payment and so they must give without payment. Honestly, I don’t like this translation because of our economic mindset toward payment.

Other translations say “freely you have received, freely give.”[7] And as they have freely received the freely given gift of grace through Jesus Christ our Lord, this is the message the apostles take with them. It is the message we have received and we take with us. Whether into the soul, the session, or the world, this is the word we are called to take with us.

As we have freely received, remember to pray for those who will be sent into the harvest. And also remember the Lord takes pleasure in having us respond, “I will go Lord, if you lead me.”

[1] Rogers and Hammerstein
[2] Disciple, Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible
[3] Random thought that doesn’t belong in this sermon: Often in the church and in church work you hear about individuals or even congregations with way too much conflict being called “clergy killers.” Every pastor wants to avoid the clergy killing congregation. Strangely, Jesus called a “clergy killer” to be one of his apostles. Honestly, I don’t know what this means, but I believe it must be considered—clergy killers exist and Jesus knows it better than any of us ever will. And no, I am fortunate—I have not met a clergy killer in my present posting.
[4] Acts 10:1-33
[5] Acts 9:1-18
[6] For more information about the Dallas Covenant, check out http://www.pcusa.org/pcnews/2008/08450.htm, retrieved June 14, 2008.
[7] New International Version, New American Standard Bible, New Living Translation among others.