You Can Go Home Again

Sunday, January 19, 2020

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-24

 

Do you know that feeling of wanting something and not knowing what it is? Many of us have that feeling late at night as we stand staring into the refrigerator, hungry for something, but not seeing exactly that we want. We finally settle on something – and it fills the hole in our stomach – but often it doesn’t really satisfy.

I think we come to worship on Sunday mornings with the same sort of desire – we want something although we can’t quite name what it is – yet we have a deep sense that we can find it here.  Sometimes we do find it – and we leave here knowing we have encountered the living God. Other times we leave longing for more. Our hearts are restless, we are hungry; we are craving something that we can’t quite describe. And we know we won’t be whole until we find it.

Every marketer knows about this restless desire – it is how human beings are wired. We humans go out into the world, searching for that thing that will satisfy. We scan Amazon or Ebay, or we wander through Tanger Outlets or Walmart, or we watch the Home Shopping Network, searching – searching for something that will quiet our cravings, at least for a while. And often we even buy something, only to get it home and realize that we don’t really feel any better – our hearts are still restless. And we all recognize that buying the newer, bigger, better version also doesn’t ultimately satisfy our deepest desires – and yet we still want it.

Some of us take this desire to the next level. We turn to alcohol or drugs, and they do quiet our cravings – sort of. Or we become hoarders, accumulating all sorts of stuff – but it is never enough. Or we turn to sex or pornography, hoping to satisfy our deepest desires. Or we become work-a-holics, thinking we can change the world if we just work hard enough. And it is never enough. We are never satisfied. We are always restless for something more.

We often call today’s parable the Prodigal Son, which speaks to his actions – he certainly spent his money recklessly. Today I’m going to call this parable the Restless Son. He was clearly searching for something. If you think about it, he had everything. Clearly his father was quite wealthy. I imagine that his father was a farmer, with land and animals and a beautiful home and servants. There was abundance, and life was good. But the younger son was restless. This life wasn’t satisfying to him. Even though he had everything he needed, he was looking for something more.

I suspect many of us can relate to the Restless Son. Many of us have had the experience of wanting something more than what we found at home. It is not at all unusual, especially for a young adult, to go out into the world and push limits and explore possibilities, hoping to find his or her heart’s desire.But in this parable something unusual happens; the restless son is bold enough to ask for his inheritance first. It is as if he is saying to his father, you are as good as dead to me anyway, so give me everything that will be mine when you die. Then I can leave this place and find the life that is truly life.

And the amazing thing is that his father gave him exactly what he wanted. He divided his estate between his two sons and gave the restless son his portion. And off the son went, with his pockets full of money, not looking back at all, ready to satisfy his every desire in a foreign land. The grass is always greener on the other side.

But here’s the thing. He spent and he spent and he spent and he squandered everything – he spent it all buying the most extravagant items, throwing the biggest parties, and enjoying the most beautiful women. And after he spent all his money, there he was – friendless and hungry, and in a foreign land. He had had a lot of fun, but none of it had really satisfied.

Most of us have never carried our desires to quite this extreme. And yet, according to Dave Ramsey, the average American is $34,000 in debt. We haven’t received an inheritance from our parents – instead we have received credit. And some of us have squandered our resources. Others of us have done good things – like go to school or buy a car. But still, at the end of the day we are craving something more, and now we are stuck with all these bills!

At this point shame kicks in. I can’t tell you how many people I’ve talked to who say, “I want to come to church, but I need to get my act together first.”  Or, “I want to tithe, but I am in so much debt.” Or, “I’ve screwed up so badly that no one will ever want to be my friend.” It is so easy to be ashamed of the many different ways we have tried to satisfy our desires. Think of Adam and Eve. They realized they were naked after eating the apple, and they were ashamed. None of us is immune – this is our human condition – we are all hungry for something more, and yet, when we taste what we thought we wanted we realize our nakedness and we become ashamed.

The restless son was clearly ashamed. He had nothing. In fact, as a good Jew, he was willing to settle for eating the same food the pigs ate just to fill his stomach. How could he have stooped so low? In that moment he realized just what his father had given him and how he had thrown away everything that was truly of value. And in that moment, like the alcoholic who takes that first step, he acknowledged that his life had become unmanageable and he needed help.

Thankfully, most of us never get to that point. Our lives don’t become unmanageable. We are able to muddle along, paying the minimum on our credit cards and hiding our shame. We do a good job of pretending that everything is okay. We work and we spend time with friends and we come to church, and we never talk about just how unsatisfied we really are. And perhaps we fill our days with enough activity that it is only as we stare into the refrigerator late at night that we truly realize just how much we long for something more – and it really isn’t a late night snack.

Augustine said that our hearts are restless until we find our rest in God. The restless son finally realized that even his father’s servants had it better than he did. His father was gracious and kind and abounding in steadfast love. It was worth swallowing all his shame and guilt and going home.

Here’s the thing. We know God is gracious and kind and abounding in steadfast love. We know it. And yet we want to keep our feet in both worlds – we want to be able to come home to God and still live in the foreign land we call our daily lives. Our daily lives aren’t quite bad enough for us to call them unmanageable. And so we try to satisfy our desires both ways – through our faith in the living God and through our faith in our culture.

You can’t live in both worlds and be truly satisfied.

Brothers and sisters in Christ, God wants all of you. Our hearts are restless until they find their rest in God, and God alone. This is the first step toward embracing simplicity: letting go of the desires of this world and coming home. Now I’m not telling you to stop loving your family – our God is a deeply relational God, a God who loves us and calls us to love one another. And I’m not telling you to stop working or to quit doing the things you love to do either – these are all ways we live out our God given calling in the world. 

What I am inviting you to do is to put God first in all things. Put God first in your week. There’s a reason we are here on Sunday – it is the first day of the week. We start our week in worship. Put God first every morning. Start your day with prayer and devotion. Put God first in your giving. Give God the first portion of your income and the first fruits of your harvest. And put God first in your relationships. Let God’s love guide your actions and your speech. Desire God more than anything else.  

Something amazing happens when we put God first in all things. We realize God has been standing there the whole time waiting for us to come home. God has been watching for us. And when we appear on the horizon, ready to reorder our priorities, God kicks into high gear, getting ready for the biggest party we’ve ever seen. And we are welcomed home with open arms. We are welcomed as a child and not a servant. We are welcomed and called beloved. And our deepest desires are finally satisfied.

Come home. Let go of your earthly desires and embrace our God who desires deeply to be in relationship with you. God is waiting for you with open arms, eager to greet you with the biggest party you’ve ever seen. We get a foretaste of that feast right here at this Table – a reminder that God so loved the world that he gave his only Son. It is a simple feast of bread and juice, a profound foretaste of God’s abundant grace, given for you and for many.

Come home. And embrace God’s amazingly simple gift of grace poured out for you and for many through the gift of God’s only Son.

Return To Me (Ash Wednesday)

 Joel 2:1-2, 12-17

March 6, 2019

Being fully human is unspeakably difficult. Life is hard – we are constantly bombarded by the challenges of this world. Every day we are being asked to make decisions that can leave us feeling really good or totally inadequate. And then the unpredictable happens – we get sick, or someone we love dies, or we end up in an accident – and we feel fragile and small, and so human. And when we are able to look beyond our own lives, we see systemic injustice – and we are overwhelmed. How do we live faithfully in this world?

Being fully human is unspeakably difficult. We hide parts of ourselves, we guard our hearts, we pretend to be able to function normally so that we can get through the day. And many of us get so good at this that at times we can’t even tell the difference between our true selves and the person the world sees. But when we stop to think about it we know. Deep down we know when we are being our authentic selves and when we are acting. And when we are honest with ourselves, we long to be our authentic selves – the way God sees us. But being fully human really is unspeakably difficult.

The thing is, being our authentic selves often leaves us feeling so very vulnerable. I’d much rather hide the hurt and act like everything is okay – like I can handle it. I prefer to plaster a smile on my face and pretend I’ve got it all under control, rather than face up to just how inadequate I feel. But every time we deny our authentic selves we also denying Jesus Christ. Every time we act like we’ve got it all together, we are saying that we do not need God. And the truth is that we need God each and every hour of each and every day.

For example: We are going along like we’ve got everything under control and then something happens and our worlds are turned upside down. And so often our response is to do our best to pretend that everything is okay. Our culture teaches us to do this. You can do it. Be strong! You’ve got what it takes.

But sometimes we simply can’t – the devastation is more than we can bear. For the prophet Joel is was a plague of locusts that literally destroyed everything, leaving God’s people utterly destitute. Even the animals were starving. It really must have felt like the end of the world. Our “crisis moment” may not be as dire, but it is still very real. Often we are left wondering which way to turn.  If we are honest with ourselves we are scared. And God speaks into our terror: “Return to me with all your heart.”

I have read this passage hundreds of times and every time I’ve read it I have heard it as a call to repentance. Do the right thing. Turn away from your sin and turn to God. Confess your wrongdoings so that you can follow the right path. And this is a fitting theme as we start Lent. God calls us to give up bad habits and take on good ones. We hear Joel’s words – return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning – and I think of the word contrition. Regret and sorrow for past wrongdoings. But the locust infestation was not the result of sin. It was a natural disaster, like an earthquake or a hurricane.

This made me wonder if maybe I had been reading this wrong. And it turns out that the Hebrew word used here isn’t “repent.” It really is return – come back. And when we hear it this way we hear a completely different message. It is more like God is saying, I’m still here. I’m still waiting. I still love you. And I want you to come back to me – I want you to come home. Think of the Father waiting for the Prodigal Son to return home. We are hearing the deepest yearnings of God’s heart. “Return to me!” Come and open up your hearts to me. Rend your hearts and not your clothing – quit acting. Quit hiding yourself from me. Tear open your heart and trust me. Give me your authentic self with all your imperfections and I will enrich your life in ways you cannot possibly imagine. You can trust me. I will love you no matter what. I promise.

God loves you. God calls you. God longs for you – for the authentic you in all its brokenness. “Return to me with all your heart.” Hear what Joel says: “Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and relents from punishing.”

For me, recognizing that God isn’t pointing to my sin, but rather to the fact that life happens and we get lost, changes everything. As we start our 40 day journey to the cross we are simply acknowledging that being fully human is unspeakably difficult. And it is difficult both because we have made mistakes and because life gets in the way. The market crashes. Our expenses exceed our income. The dog gets sick. Your pastor gets vertigo. And we get lost.

And yet, here we are. Yet. What a funny word. Paul uses it repeatedly in the letter to the church in Corinth: “We are treated as imposters, yet we are true; as unknown, yet we are well known; as dying, yet we are alive; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing everything.”

Brothers and sisters in Christ, on this day we are reminded that God is in the grace business. Right when we feel the most inadequate, the most overwhelmed, God loves us unconditionally. Right when we think we have absolutely nothing to give, God affirms that we have everything we need. Right when we think the world is going to end, God’s abundant grace renews us and brings us joy. Right when we think we are utterly alone, God welcomes us home.

And as ashes are put on our foreheads, reminding us that we are dust, God is leading us to that day when the tomb will be empty and death will no longer have dominion over us. So today we are in death, yet we are promised life!

Being fully human is unspeakably difficult. But with God all things are possible. With God all things are possible.

Here we are, at the beginning of our journey to the cross. Another Lent begins. And God is inviting us, “Return to me with all your heart.” God calls us. God yearns for us. And returning to God becomes both urgent and necessary.

More than that, hearing and responding to that call takes all of us. We cannot do this alone. We cannot find our authentic selves without the help of others.  We need each other. We need good Christian friends on this journey to give us the courage to be fully human. We need examples, so that we know we are not alone. We need the gift of community as we seek to be our most authentic self, true to God and to one another.

But this doesn’t happen over night. That is why God has given us forty days. As we embark on this Lenten journey, each Sunday will have blessings that God has left us, like a trail of breadcrumbs, that lead us into wholehearted, resurrected lives. Fed and nourished in this way, we can endure any calamity, and yet we anticipate new life. The Heart of all hearts will not leave us in a land that has been made desolate by locusts. Each Sunday there will be a signpost that marks another step toward home, toward Life, toward the rising that takes place once we are brave enough to rend our hearts, tearing them open and giving them fully to God. 

Who Baptized Jesus?

Read Luke 3:15-22 for context.

 

The baptism of Jesus is one of the few stories recorded in all four gospels. In all four gospels it marks the beginning of Jesus’ ministry in Galilee. In Mark’s gospel, we see Jesus for the first time at his baptism, just 9 verses into the book. Matthew and Luke have extensive birth narratives, and Luke tells one story of Jesus as a 12 year old; still, we meet the adult Jesus for the first time at his baptism.  Even in John’s gospel, where it is clear that the Word was with God in the beginning, we see the incarnate Word, Jesus, for the first time at his baptism.

There is no question that this is significant. Baptism marks a beginning in all four gospels. And in all four gospels the Spirit descends in bodily form, like a dove, making it abundantly clear that God is physically present and evident for all to see. And then a voice from heaven speaks. Everyone recognizes that this is the voice of God the Father pouring out blessings upon blessings upon his beloved Son.

When a story shows up in more than one gospel it is always a good idea to compare the various versions, looking for similarities and differences. Much like listening to several different witnesses in a court of law, the testimonies point to the commonalities and they also inevitably tell us something about the witness. The fact that I might notice a detail that you miss, or that you might highlight an aspect that seems unimportant to me speaks more about us, as the witnesses, than it does about the event we witnessed.

There is no doubt that the four stories of Jesus’ baptism tell us a lot about the gospel writers. Mark is simply proclaiming the good news: Jesus was baptized by John at the Jordan. In Matthew, there is some question as to whether John is worthy to baptize Jesus. Jesus explains that this is how it is supposed to be and John consents. In Luke, we do not know who baptized Jesus, because John has just been locked up in prison. None-the-less, Jesus is baptized. John’s gospel infers baptism, but we are left wondering whether Jesus was baptized or not. Still, in all four gospels the Spirit descended in bodily form, like a dove and rested on Jesus.

I think these differences tell us more about our gospel writers than they do about Jesus. Clearly they questioned the purpose of baptism – well, except for Mark. Mark’s gospel is the earliest gospel, and clearly Mark saw the baptism of Jesus as his initiation into ministry. On the other hand, the author of John’s gospel wonders why anyone would baptize the Lamb of God who is without sin – the one who has come to take away the sin of the world. And Matthew wrestles with whether John is worthy to baptize the One who is more powerful than he is. After all, John’s baptism is a baptism for repentance, and Jesus will baptize with the Holy Spirit and fire.

Luke solves Matthew’s problem by throwing John into prison, leaving us all wondering who baptized Jesus. I must admit that I have always found this deeply disturbing. We have all grown up “knowing” John baptized Jesus in the Jordan. And yet, there it is, in black and white. Herod shut up John in prison and then Jesus was baptized.

What do you do with a Biblical text that is disturbing? Apparently I have avoided it, choosing to preach the story of baptism in Mark’s gospel even when the lectionary assigned Luke. In retrospect, that was cowardly of me. After all, Biblical texts are meant to be wrestled with. But there’s something even more telling: the committee who put the lectionary together – the three year cycle of scriptures that the Catholic church and most mainline denominations follow – skipped verses 19 and 20. Even the lectionary, in telling the story of Jesus’ baptism in Luke’s gospel, conveniently ignores that fact that John has been imprisoned.

Friends, we are no longer in a place where we can ignore difficult texts. As we start this study on The Way Forward, I think the most difficult conversation we will have will be about scripture. What do you do when it is there in black and white – John has been shut up in prison and then Jesus was baptized? We can’t be like the lectionary committee and simply skip those verses. And we can’t choose to ignore them and focus on something that is more comfortable.

I love how God works. In the midst of my wrestling this week, my daily devotional by Richard Rohr has been focusing on scripture. A few days ago this is what he wrote about reading scripture:

“Offer a prayer for guidance from the Holy Spirit before you make your interpretation of an important text. With an open heart and mind, seek the attitude of a beginner and learner. Pray as long as it takes to feel any certitudes loosen.”

Let me pause here: Pray as long as it takes to feel any certitudes loosen. I first had to identify my certitudes. Why does it matter who baptized Jesus? Why am I so certain that it had to be John? How do I let go of my certainty and seek the attitude of a beginner and learner?

Rohr goes on: “Once you have attained some degree of openness, try to move to a position of detachment from your own egoic will and its goals and desires—to be correct, to be secure, to stay with the familiar. This might take some time, but without such freedom from your own need for control, you will invariably make a text say what you need and want it to say.”

And I can’t help but laugh. Even the lectionary committee, in their need for control, tried to make the text say what they needed and wanted it to say. Of course Jesus was baptized by John! But not in Luke’s gospel. So now we must all ask the Holy Spirit to speak the truth into our desire to be correct, secure and familiar and to show us all how to read this text.

Rohr continues: “Then you must listen for a deeper voice than your own, which you will know because it will never shame or frighten you, but rather strengthen you, even when it is challenging you.” (Friday, January 11, 2019 – see https://cac.org/beginners-mind-2019-01-11/ for the full reflection.)

Friends, listening for that deeper voice than your own is far from easy. In the same way that each gospel writer tells the story of Jesus’ baptism through his own lens, we read the story through our own lens. And our lenses have their own certitudes and insecurities, their own fears and desires, their own degree of tolerance of the unknown.

So we faithfully read scripture by starting in prayer. Lord, let my certitudes loosen and give me the heart of a beginner. Help me step away from my own goals and desires to hear what You, Lord, have to say in this text.  Let me hear your voice and not my own.

And God speaks: It doesn’t matter who baptized Jesus. In the same way, it doesn’t matter who baptized you. It simply matters that you have been baptized. I am reminded of the conflict at the start of Paul’s letter to the Corinthians. There were divisions among them as some said, “I belong to Apollos,” and others said, “I belong to Cephas,” because that is who baptized them.  Arguing about who baptized you simply leads to divisions. What matters is that you were baptized into this one body we call the church.

In the same way, it doesn’t matter whether you were dunked or simply had three drops of water placed on your head. And it doesn’t matter whether you were baptized as an infant or later in your life. What matters is that on that day you entered into a life-long relationship with God and with the church.

Now, over the years many of us have strayed from our baptismal vows. Some wrestle deeply with God, others find it easy to remain faithful. Some leave the church permanently, others return.  We are all at different places in our journey of faith. Still, in our baptisms God spoke a deep truth to each one of us: “You are my beloved child; with you I am well pleased.”

There it is in black and white: You are my beloved. You are deeply loved by God. Turn to your neighbor and say to them, “You are deeply loved by God.” And more than that: God is well pleased with you. Turn to your neighbor and tell them, “God is well pleased with you.”

Friends, I’m not trying to make the interpretation of scripture easy. I’m not looking for simple solutions to difficult texts. I believe the knowledge that we have all been baptized into one body and the assurance that we are all deeply loved by God stand as promises – we can’t let go of these truths. At the same time, they challenge us to be open to the Holy Spirit who descended like a dove on Jesus, and then drove him into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. They challenge us to be open to the Holy Spirit who fell on the disciples like flames of fire at Pentecost and gave birth to the church. They challenge us to trust that, just as God showed up at our baptism, God shows up as we seek to learn and grow and follow Jesus more faithfully.

What on Earth Am I Here For (5): Does God Suffer?

Preached Sunday, October 14, 2018

For context read Exodus 3:1-10 and Luke 9:18-27

 

Does God suffer? Theologians have been debating this question for centuries. Does God suffer? Historically theologians have argued that God cannot suffer. If God is pure light, utterly perfect, and all goodness then there can be no darkness in God; and if there is no darkness in God then there is no suffering in God.  As far back as the 2^nd century, people have argued that God is holy, eternal, perfect, and unchanging. Therefore God cannot suffer.

You may wonder, as I did, about the cross. Didn’t God suffer in Jesus Christ on the cross? Theologians have gotten around this by saying it is the humanity of Christ that suffers and not his divinity. I, personally, cannot readily separate Christ’s humanity from his divinity. If Jesus is fully human and fully divine then God suffered on the cross. Some might argue that it is only God the Son who suffered. But I simply cannot imagine God the Father being unmoved as God the Son suffered and died. Without denying that God is holy and eternal and perfect, I believe God suffers – I believe God not only witnesses, but experiences suffering. After all, our God is a deeply relational God. How can God be unmoved by the suffering of humanity?

Just look at our Old Testament lesson for today. God is speaking to Moses, saying in verse 7, “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed I know their sufferings.” God not only sees and hears our misery, God knows our sufferings. This isn’t just head knowledge; God’s heart has been deeply touched by the suffering of God’s people, moving God to action. God has chosen to come down and deliver God’s people through Moses. God suffers when humanity suffers and longs to diminish our suffering.

I share this argument with you because our fifth and final purpose for being here on this earth is mission. Rick Warren says that as a Christian our fifth purpose is to be sent into the world to share the good news of Jesus Christ with others. But what exactly does this mean? What does it look like? How are we called to participate in God’s mission here on earth today? How is God coming down to deliver God’s people through us today?

My mission professor at Duke, Bishop Kenneth Carder, asked us this question: What if our motive for mission is to help diminish the suffering of God? What if Moses’ motive for going back to Egypt was to help diminish the suffering of God by freeing God’s people from captivity? What if the reason we are here on this earth is to help diminish the suffering of God?

Let me turn this into a mission statement: We are here on this earth to help diminish the suffering of God so that God’s kingdom will come on earth as it is in heaven. How would we live our lives differently if these words were printed in the bulletin each week? We are here on this earth to help diminish the suffering of God so that God’s kingdom will come on earth as it is in heaven.

I suspect this resonates with many of us. This is the reason we opened a food pantry. This is the reason we provide snack packs for kids at BEJ. This is the reason for the Pastor’s Discretionary Fund. This is the reason we support orphans in Zimbabwe and Malawi. This is the reason we are partnering with Cokesbury United Methodist Church in Stedman following Hurricane Florence. We long to diminish the suffering of God by alleviating the suffering of God’s people. We long for that day described in Revelation 21 when the home of God will be among mortals and God will dwell with us and we will be God’s people. And God “will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more.” In other words, God’s kingdom will be here, on earth as it is in heaven.

This is our goal. This is God’s mission for us on earth. We long to diminish the suffering of God as we seek God’s kingdom.

So. This led me to pull out Walter Brueggemann’s book on mission.[1] Walter Brueggemann is an Old Testament scholar and theologian. I’ve heard him speak several times and I deeply respect his wisdom. He is quick to point out that mission is so much more social action. When we embrace God’s mission – when we truly let God work in us and through us as Moses did – we must hold together in tension both evangelism and social action. We must hold together in tension both proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ and loving our neighbors. I love this. Mission is both evangelism and social action. Diminishing the suffering of God takes both evangelism and social action.

There is no question that evangelism is a vital part of God’s mission. Just look at the Great Commission in Matthew 28: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded.”  Evangelism is a command, not an option. Go! Proclaim the gospel. Share the good news of Jesus Christ. Invite people to repent, be baptized, and embrace the new life we have found in Jesus.

And there is no question that mission as evangelism diminishes the suffering of God. When we proclaim release to the captives and set at liberty those who are oppressed – when by the grace of God an alcoholic is set free from the chains of addiction – when by God’s grace someone who is tormented by demons is set free to be fully alive – when the waters of baptism truly wash away sin and bring us into new life – then the suffering of God is clearly diminished. Indeed, God delights every time a person is brought from death to life – as we sing, “My chains are gone, I’ve been set free! My God, my Savior, has ransomed me.” This is abundant life! Our mission is to proclaim this good news.

And yet, diminishing the suffering of God takes both evangelism and social action. As James writes “If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,” and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that?” Proclaiming the gospel without meeting the basic needs of others is faith without works – and faith without works is dead. (James 2:15-17)

Which brings me back to Walter Brueggemann. He argues that the conservative churches too readily reduce mission to evangelism risking, in his words, “reducing the danger of the Bible to confessional safety.” In other words, salvation is simplified to believing on the name of the Lord Jesus Christ! And liberal churches too readily reduce mission to social action attempting, in his words, “to avoid the dramatic system-shattering claim of the gospel.” At an extreme, liberals embrace works without faith, meeting needs without transforming lives.  He goes on to say that so-called conservatives and so-called liberals might both do well to embrace the radical, subversive, risk-taking nature of the gospel of Jesus Christ – embracing the both/and nature of God’s mission here on earth. After all, we all long for suffering to come to an end. We all long for the victory of God over death to be a victory over all creation. We all long for nothing less than the transformation of the world.

What if our mission here on this earth is to help diminish the suffering of God so that God’s kingdom will come on earth as it is in heaven? Do you hear how radical and subversive and risk-taking this mission really is? It is so much more than telling the world about Jesus. And it is so much more than feeding the hungry and clothing the naked and visiting those who are in prison. Genuine transformation – change that shatters the systems of fear and injustice and power that dominate our world – authentic conversion to the way of Jesus, the way of the cross, the way of suffering – holds together both evangelism and social action.

And we aren’t very good at this. Our hearts are in the right place – we want to diminish the suffering of God – but we aren’t really willing to take up our cross. Speaking for myself, self-sacrifice is far from easy. Taking risks is, well, awfully risky. Standing up for what I believe inevitably upsets someone, and I’d rather be a peacemaker than a rabble rouser. In addition, I’m much too attached to my lifestyle and my stuff to truly deny myself and take up my cross and follow Jesus on this road marked with suffering. 

While I really do want to diminish the suffering of God, I want this work to be relatively risk-free. While I gladly pray, Thy kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven, it is much harder for me to actually enter into the suffering of others as God did in the Exodus through Moses, and as God did through so many of the prophets, and as God did by taking on flesh in Jesus Christ. The truth is that God will work in me and through me and even in spite of me – if I will only remember that God is in charge, not me. God is in the driver’s seat, not me. And God longs to diminish the suffering of each and every person I meet. If only I would get out of the way and let Him!

We are here on this earth to help diminish the suffering of God so that God’s kingdom will come on earth as it is in heaven. This is our mission. This is our goal.  How is God calling you to participate in this mission? What does embracing this mission mean for your ordinary everyday life?

Let me leave you with an observation from Brueggemann: “The issue [of mission] is that the life of creation, the fabric of human community, is deeply in jeopardy among us. The crisis concerning [mission] is a ‘world question’ and not a ‘church question.’ Our common jeopardy is very large in terms of arms and chemicals, terror, and massive international indebtedness. The jeopardy is very local in terms of drugs and violence, fear, greed, and isolation. That old world of alienation can not much longer be propped up, either by the military will of the super-powers, or by the economic coercion of the markets, nor by well-meaning ideology that passes for religion.” No, we have been shown a more excellent way – the way of the cross – where “word becomes flesh, sovereignty becomes compassion, weakness becomes strength, foolishness becomes wisdom, suffering becomes hope, vulnerability becomes energy, death becomes life” (46-47).

And when we embrace this all encompassing view of mission the suffering of God is diminished. Thanks be to God!

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[1] Biblical Perspectives on Evangelism

What on Earth Am I Here For (4): Shaped to Serve

Preached Sunday, October 7, 2018

For context read John 13:1-17 and Philippians 2:1-13

 

We are shaped for service. This is Rick Warren’s fourth reason for our being here on this earth, and yet in my mind service is the door – the gateway – the window into our purpose for being. What on earth are we here for? We are here to serve. We are shaped for service.

Think about it. Most mothers, when they first lay eyes on their newborn, feel called to serve. They give of their time and their energy – even when they are utterly exhausted – to serve the needs of their child. As their children grow the character of their service changes. Still parents have this desire to meet the needs of their children, sometimes serving to the point of spoiling them!

We are shaped for service. As a young adult I felt this in my bones. My job working in a lab had meaning to me because I was doing research on schizophrenia. My work had the potential to help others. And in my spare time I loved helping out with the Eno River Association, keeping trails clean and volunteering with their annual fundraiser. I felt like my small contributions helped sustain our beautiful park systems.

We are shaped for service. Consider the number of professions that are service oriented. Teachers, counselors, therapists, nurses, doctors, pastors, aides, plumbers, repairmen, and housekeepers, just to name a few. Most people in service professions choose to be there because they want to serve. They want to make a difference in the lives of others. They find meaning as they touch lives, extend a helping hand, offer healing, and bring joy into the lives of others.

We are shaped for service. When the mainline church in the United States started losing sight of this deep truth, people found other ways to serve. From the mid 1800’s to the early 1900’s all sorts of service organizations sprung up – from the YMCA and the Boys and Girls Club to service organizations like Kiwanis and the Ruritans and the Lions.

And the church remained involved in service through other organizations. Dorothy Day started the Catholic Worker Movement to deal with hunger and homelessness in New York City, and the Methodist Women were formed in response to women’s issues both at home and abroad.

I believe this desire to serve is in our cumulative bones. It’s God’s prevenient grace – that grace that precedes human action and reflects God’s love for all of creation. It’s the seed God planted in all of us – a longing to make the world a better place, not just for ourselves, but for all of God’s creatures.

And yet, sometimes we forget to water that seed. Sometimes the noise of the world is too loud. No wonder we need to sing, Tune my heart to sing thy grace.

Rick Warren wrote, way back on Day 5, “The way you see your life shapes your life” (44). He then asked, “How do you see your life?” He goes on to say, “I’ve been told life is a circus, a minefield, a roller coaster, a puzzle, a symphony, a journey, and a dance. People have said, ‘Life is a carousel: sometimes you’re up, sometimes you’re down, and sometimes you just go round and round.’”

How do you see your life? Where do you find meaning in your life? Does your life feel purposeful? Or does it feel more like a minefield? Or a carousel? Are you using your God-given gifts and talents? Or have you gotten lost in the midst of our power-hungry, consumer-driven, “it’s all about me” society?

Unfortunately, while many people embark on a career path with a desire to serve, the day-to-day reality often feels more like an endless and thankless to-do list. Others embark on a career path for all the wrong reasons – money, power, prestige. Sadly, their daily work may feel more like a necessary evil to be endured so that the bills can be paid.  Still others get lost – thinking their gifts are inadequate, their talents are not good enough – that they have nothing to offer, no skills for service. They’ve completely lost sight of the reality that God has uniquely gifted each one of us for service.

So: How do we re-capture that desire to serve? How do we discover that passion and excitement for service? How do we uncover our God-given gifts?

In a sense it all starts with a simple question: How do you see your life?

Jesus, knowing that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table on that night when he knew he would be betrayed, took off his outer robe, tied a towel around himself, and poured water into a basin. Then, with a smile on his face, he began to wash the disciples’ feet. One at a time, he washed their feet, drying them with the towel tied around his waist.

I imagine the fear and uncertainty he might have felt as he washed the feet of Judas, his betrayer. I imagine his frustration as he washed the feet of Peter, the rock, who didn’t understand what was happening. I imagine his awareness of the dark night that still lay ahead of him – arrest, trials, beatings, humiliation. At the same time, in that moment I imagine the intimacy of his touch, the look of love on his face, his sheer joy in making his last act on earth an act of service. In the assurance of God’s promises, he took on a task that only the lowliest of the low would have ever done; in joy he washed the dusty and smelly feet of those he loved the most. Truly loving them to the end.

Even as he faced death, Jesus so clearly saw his life as a life of service. Jesus chose this path. As the Christ Hymn reminds us, Jesus, though he was in the form of God, emptied himself, taking the form of a servant. Jesus came, not to be served but to serve. And he served with joy all the way to the end.

Years ago I went to visit Pansy Riley when she was in a small assisted living facility. That particular day, as I walked into the small living room, almost every woman in the facility was sitting there with her socks and shoes off. And this woman was washing their feet and trimming their nails – taking her time with each woman, with each foot. There was this joy on her face as she lovingly cared for each woman. And this energy filled the room as the women talked and laughed together.

As we age it gets harder and harder for us to reach our own feet. And our nails and calluses get thick and tough. Taking care of our own feet becomes a real chore, and even an impossibility. And truthfully, taking care of old feet is unpleasant work. But this angel of a woman felt called to serve the elderly in this way. She loved these women by caring for their feet. Just like Jesus.

We are shaped for service. Not all of us are called to wash feet. But all of us are called to serve. All of us are shaped for service. And Jesus has shown us the way through love and humble service – through self-sacrifice and commitment to something bigger than ourselves – by dying to ourselves so that the whole body can truly thrive. It’s all right there for us to see in Jesus.

Brothers and sisters, we already know all of this. We already know that it is in serving others that we feel the most alive. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, deep in your bones. So my question for you is, “How is the way you see your life shaped by your service to God and neighbor?”

To make this more practical, think about what you will be doing tomorrow. Are you getting on the treadmill that is your job and just waiting for 5 o’clock so you can go home? Will you spend the day complaining about your to-do list, fretting about politics, and feeling immobilized by a sense of helplessness? Will you just go through the motions? Or will you see every person you meet and every task you are given as an opportunity to serve? The truth is that an attitude of service can transform an ordinary day into a joy-filled, life-giving day. We were made to more than just survive. We were made to thrive!

And service can take so many different forms – from simply meeting someone’s eyes as you talk with them so that they know you care, to dropping everything on your to-do list to help someone in need, to intentionally using your gifts to make a difference in the world.  When we see our lives through the lens of service we can’t help but see every human being as a beloved child of God and every situation as an opportunity to share the love of Jesus Christ. When we see ourselves as God’s helpers here on earth, no task is too small and no obstacle is too large. When we see ourselves as servants of the Master the answer to the question, “What on earth am I here for?” might be as simple as “To let you know that you are deeply loved.”

We are shaped for service. How do you see service shaping your life?

What On Earth Am I Here For (3): Comm-Unity

Community. When we break this word apart we have comm– and –unity.  The prefix “com” means with or together. So community means “with unity” or “together in unity.” We were made for community – to be together, in unity.

Years ago when I put up my first bird feeder I expected to see Cardinals – the beautiful North Carolina red bird. But I had never paid enough attention to notice anything about the rest of the birds. There were Cardinals and there were brown birds. But then the brown birds started coming – Chickadees and House Finches and Tufted Titmouses and Nuthatches and Wrens and Gold Finches and Woodpeckers. And I’ve even seen a Baltimore Oriole!

As I paid attention I discovered that even the Cardinals weren’t all the same. Some males are more vibrantly red than others. Some females are more brown. And they have their own personalities. Some birds chase everyone away from the feeder before they eat. Some birds hop from one hole to the next, looking for the tastiest morsel. God’s diversity is displayed every day right at my bird feeder.

We all know that human beings are equally diverse. We are black and white, tall and short, big and small, female and male. We are rich and poor, country folks and city folks, blue and red. God’s diversity is displayed for us every day right before our eyes. And, we are all created in the image of God!

Community. With unity.

Here’s the thing. We humans have a tendency to see our differences and divide into factions. You like light blue, I like Duke blue. And some of you like red. You like vanilla, I like chocolate. And some of you like strawberry or butter pecan. And while our ice cream preference may not divide us, the way we read scripture can. You say the Bible is inerrant; I say the Bible is the inspired word of God. You say “Thou shalt not kill” means even the ants deserve to live; I say it is okay to eat meat.

Friends, if we let our differences divide us we will eventually be left standing alone without community. Just consider all the greens in the crayon box. There’s bright green and bottle green and Christmas green; there’s pine green and sea foam green and pea green.  Crayola has 50 different greens! We are all different. Uniquely gifted. Created for a purpose. No two people are the same.

Community. With unity. Paul writes, “I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, ² with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, ³ making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” He goes on to remind us, “⁴ There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, ⁵ one Lord, one faith, one baptism, ⁶ one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.”

The truth is that being in community is hard. Making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace is hard. Too often we are like children – we insist that we are right. It’s my way or the highway! And, because we are grown ups, instead of throwing a tantrum we simply choose to ignore the person who disagrees with us.

No wonder there are more than 3000 different denominations in the United States – never mind all the non-denominational churches. Martin Luther never set out to form a new church. He wanted to reform the Catholic Church. In the same way, John Wesley never set out to create a new denomination. He wanted to reform the Church of England. But our human tendency is to cling tightly to what we know. Our human tendency leads us to go our separate ways. And then we point our finger at “them” and say that “they” are wrong.

And here’s the thing. All of us are guilty of pointing a finger at the other. Of thinking of ourselves more highly than we ought. Of undoing the very thing we were created for. Community. With unity.

One Lord, one faith, one baptism. Lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called. There is nothing more rewarding. And there is nothing more difficult. Leading a life that is worthy of Jesus Christ calls for humility, not pride. It calls for gentleness, not arrogance. It calls for patience, not intolerance. It calls for love, not hate. One God and Father of us all.

Paul challenges us, “We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro,” choosing sides and building walls. As Christians, as followers of Jesus Christ, we are called to a higher standard. We are called to work for peace and unity. We are called to grow up in every way into Christ, promoting the growth of the body of Christ and building one another up in love.

There’s nothing easy about this. Just consider speaking the truth in love to someone. Say, for example, that you have noticed that someone is making a poor choice. Why is it that we are more likely to go tell our friend about the poor choice that person is making than to go to the person and, with gentleness and in all humility, point out what they are doing? Why do we choose gossip over the hard work of speaking the truth in love? And why, when someone offends us, do we sometimes feel like we have the right to bully them instead of engaging them in meaningful conversation that is mutually edifying? Why do we tear down instead of building up? We all know there is nothing easy about speaking the truth in love. It takes practice. It takes trust. It takes humility. It takes discernment and prayer. It takes courage. It takes being in a loving relationship – and that takes time.

Christian maturity is a life-long journey. God wants us to grow up in every way to be like Christ. Martin Luther described maturity in this way: “This life, therefore, is not godliness but the process of becoming godly, not health but getting well, not being but becoming, not rest but exercise. We are not now what we shall be, but we are on the way.”

Christian maturity is a life-long journey. We are becoming more and more like Christ. We are on the way. And, we are not alone. We have been given a community of people to share this journey – to love us – to cry with us – to hold us accountable. And we have each been given grace according to the measure of Christ’s gift. Some of us are prophets; others are teachers. Some of us are good with numbers; others of us are good with people. Some of us love working with children; others of us love working with tools. Some of us have the wisdom that comes with experience; others of us are at the beginning of our Christian journey. And it takes all of us to be the body of Christ.

After worship today I have a meeting with the Lay Leadership Team. Our task is to prayerfully consider the leadership of this congregation for 2019. In a small church some people end up wearing several hats and sometimes we are missing the gifts we need. It sometimes feels like we are the body of Christ, but we have two hearts and we are missing a kidney or a foot. And we all know that if a foot is severed from the body it will shrivel up and die.

This brings me to our devotions for this week. You were formed for God’s family. On day 17, Rick Warren writes, “We are created for community, fashioned for fellowship, and formed for a family, and none of us can fulfill God’s purposes by ourselves” (132). He goes on to say “a Christian without a church home is like an organ without a body, a sheep without a flock, or a child without a family. It is an unnatural state” (134).

Now I feel a bit like I’m preaching to the choir, because you are here. You are participating in our daily devotions. You are part of a small group. You are doing your best to grow up in Christ – to become spiritually mature. But we all know people who are missing. People who have severed themselves from the body permanently. People who feel like an appendix – as if the body can take them or leave them. (By the way, there are no appendixes in the body of Christ!) People who go from one body to the next, never fully committing themselves to one body, one church home. People who fail to recognize that when they are missing we are incomplete.

Preached Sunday, September 23, 2018

For context read Ephesians 4:1-16

 

Consider this. You can’t really draw a tree with one green crayon. Every tree is made up of dozens of shades of green. And we can’t really be the body of Christ without all the diversity God has created.

I started today by talking about community. With unity. Together in unity. Notice the word isn’t com-uniformity. Unity is not uniformity. We are strongest when we embrace all of our God given gifts.

Eugene Petersen writes in The Message translation, “God wants us to grow up, to know the whole truth and tell it in love—like Christ in everything. We take our lead from Christ, who is the source of everything we do. He keeps us in step with each other. His very breath and blood flow through us, nourishing us so that we will grow up healthy in God, robust in love.”

Friends, here is the good news. Christ is the source of everything we do. Christ keeps us in step with each other. His very breath – the Holy Spirit, the wind from God – fills us and inspires us.  His very blood flows in us and through us. And together, as the body of Christ, each and every one of us can grow up, building one another up, becoming more godly, getting healthy, and growing into the body – the family – the community God has called us to become. Thanks be to God!

What On Earth Am I Here For (2): Spirit and Truth

Preached September 16, 2018

For context read John 4:1-26 and Deuteronomy 6:4-9

 

What is worship? I think we often misunderstand this word, thinking that it refers to a particular style of music or liturgy or preaching. People will say, “Our worship is a blend of traditional and contemporary music.” And this is an accurate description of what happens at 11 o’clock on Sunday. But worship is so much more than music. Worship is so much more than what we do on Sunday morning. Rick Warren says, “Anything you do that brings pleasure to God is an act of worship” (66). My worship professor at Duke said, “Faithful worship is the way God forms us through the story of Jesus Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit in the practice of living according to the Truth. Worship begins with what God does in us” (Phillips, 2006, 17). What I hear when I hold these two perspectives together is that true worship includes both embracing what God is already doing in us – the ways God is shaping and forming us through the story of Jesus Christ – and responding faithfully, which brings pleasure to God.

So, what is worship? Worship includes every act that deepens our relationship with God. Years ago, when I first participated in Disciple Bible Study, I remember talking about worship. At that time I had a very concrete understanding of worship as something that happens at 11 o’clock on Sunday morning. I’m not even sure I saw prayer as an act of worship at that time. Someone in the group shared an image that stuck with me. He said, worship actually begins when we open our eyes Sunday morning and continues throughout the day. We worship as we prepare our minds and bodies to come to church. We worship as we give thanks for the food that nourishes us. We worship as we travel to church – especially when we are able to experience God’s creation on our way. We worship as we greet one another before the opening hymn. And then we worship through singing together, hearing God’s word read and proclaimed, and sharing a meal. And then, when we leave this place, we worship around dinner tables with family and friends. And through the afternoon we worship by giving our bodies rest or by gardening or by reading a good book. And at the end of the day as we crawl into bed we worship as we give thanks for a day of Sabbath rest.

The intentionality of this practice truly sets Sunday apart, marking it as the Sabbath. It also opens the door to understanding worship as something we can participate in at any time and in any place.  This is what drew me to the story of the woman at the well.

Contrary to all custom, this woman is not only talking with Jesus, she is debating with him. She points out “You say that the place where people must worship is Jerusalem” (Jn 4:20). And there is truth in this. Jews were expected to travel to Jerusalem for high holy days – it was as if God could only be found in the Temple. It strikes me that sometimes we still do this today. We limit God to this sanctuary and this hour, or we limit God to our daily devotion and our time of prayer. We fail to see that God wants to be in our lives 24/7.

Jesus replies to the woman, “The hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem... The hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as those who worship him” (4:21-23).

Jesus is turning the concept of worship upside down with this statement. First, notice that we don’t have to go to the temple or a mountain or any special place to worship. Instead, Jesus makes it clear that the Father is seeking us. Friends, this is good news! God pursues us. God constantly seeks to be in relationship with us. Rick Warren talks about this in terms of friendship – God longs to be our friend. I see this relationship as even more diverse and dynamic – God’s love for us is like the love of a friend, the love of a parent, and the love of a spouse all rolled into one. God loves us with a depth and breadth that cannot truly be expressed by any love we experience on earth. We can only begin to imagine the fullness of God’s love for us. And God deeply desires that we love – that we learn to love – that we practice this love – that we live this love – in return. As the Shema states, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.”

This brings me to the second point. True worshippers worship in spirit and truth. They don’t just worship at the Temple. Worship is so much bigger than that! We worship in response to God’s love for us. We worship when we delight in God. We worship when we invite the Holy Spirit to work in us and through us and even in spite of us. We worship when we seek the truth. Jesus said, “I am the way and the truth and the life.” It is in and through Jesus – the living Word of God – that we are able to worship in spirit and in truth.

But what is truth? In a world of fake news, where we disagree on just about everything, and question everything else, worshipping in truth is anything but clear. What does it mean to worship in truth?

First of all, it means worshiping with our hearts and our minds. God-pleasing worship is deeply emotional and deeply thoughtful. And this means that worshipping in truth is slightly different for each one of us. Rick Warren writes on Day 13, “If God intentionally made us all different, why should everyone be expected to love God in the same way?” In other words, the best style of worship for you is the one that most authentically represents your love for God.

Certainly, there are truths we all share. We believe in God the creator. We believe in Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh. We believe in the resurrection. We believe in the power of the Holy Spirit. We believe that we are the body of Christ. And we believe that these truths draw us together in love and send us forth to serve.

And yet each of us lives out these truths differently. I want to share Gary Thomas’s nine ways people draw near to God. This is also drawn from Day 13. Listen for the ones that best describe you. He writes: “Naturalists are most inspired to love God out-of-doors, in natural settings. Sensates love God with their senses and appreciate beautiful worship services that involve their sight, taste, smell, and touch, not just their ears. Traditionalists draw closer to God through rituals, liturgies, symbols, and unchanging structures. Ascetics prefer to love God in solitude and simplicity. Activists love God through confronting evil, battling injustice, and working to make the world a better place. Caregivers love God by loving others and meeting their needs. Enthusiasts love God through celebration. Contemplatives love God through adoration. Intellectuals love God by studying with their minds” (105).

I love this because it makes it okay that I love God through nature, and I love God through our liturgies, and I love God by studying God’s Word. There is a naturalist and a traditionalist and an intellectual in me. And I love that some of you love God by being an activist or a caregiver, and others of you love God through solitude or contemplation. And that together, with all of these different gifts and approaches, we love God in Spirit and Truth. This is our worship. This is what leads us to be the body of Christ in this place.

This brings me back to the question that is shaping our church-wide, 40-day spiritual journey: What on earth am I here for? The most basic answer is that you are here, on this earth, to worship God – to bring pleasure to God.

So I wonder, what does this look like for you? How might God be inviting you to worship in spirit and truth? What might you need to let go of so that you can worship God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength? What hurts and fears keep you from loving God completely? In addition, what practices do you need to pick up or do more faithfully? Are you open to letting God work in you to bring about the kingdom and in the process discovering God’s will for you?

John Wesley wrote this wonderful prayer called the Covenant Prayer. This week, as I have reflected on God’s desire to be in an intimate and life-giving relationship with us, and as I have reflected on the obstacles that keep me from worshiping in spirit and truth, I remembered this prayer. I hear in this prayer a deep surrender to God that opens the door and creates space for infinite possibilities. Will you stand and pray this with me?

I am no longer my own, but thine.

Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.

Put me to doing, put me to suffering.

Let me be employed by thee or laid aside for thee,

exalted for thee or brought low for thee.

Let me be full, let me be empty.

Let me have all things, let me have nothing.

I freely and heartily yield all things to thy pleasure and disposal.

And now, O glorious and blessed God,

Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,

thou art mine, and I am thine. So be it.

And the covenant which I have made on earth,

let it be ratified in heaven. Amen.