The True Miracle

I am blessed to know a lot of chaplains and religious leaders from many faiths and backgrounds. While we share and grow through the diversity of our experiences, the true gift is the camaraderie we have in a particular shared experience. We each want so deeply for the people we encounter to grow more deeply in their faith.

To grow in faith sounds simple enough on the surface but in reality most of us feel like Paul in his cry from Romans 7, “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” The truth is that all of us struggle to grow in faith in some way. It might be the adhering to spiritual practices or it could be the living out justice filled beliefs. Regardless of the particulars, faith is always marked by some sort of strife.

Next come the behaviors we use to cover our pain and sorrow. That too is varied in its expression. For some, they hide the pain by delving into false piety and “holier than thou” behaviors. Others of us take on the experience as a personal failing resulting in self-loathing. Still others work very hard to desensitize themselves and live in the proverbial bliss of ignorance.

We religious leaders bump up against these behaviors that are symptomatic of faith struggles both personally and professionally. Whether it’s congregational life, hospitals, or park benches the sore spots of our faith struggles are out there to be rubbed and made even more raw.

This is where that shared experience of clergy comes back. Our desire for people to grow either becomes a healing balm or an irritating liniment to those sore spots that reveal the faith struggle. When we are blessed to witness healing, it is a deeply meaningful experience as a person of faith. However, when that healing doesn’t occur it can be painful, frustrating, and even consuming when our own faith struggles take this experience personally.

I feel such deep sorrow when I watch other clergy become so wounded and discouraged with the strife they experience and the perceived lack of growth in their flock that it becomes a barrier to their own faith and participation in creation. All this leads me to what I see as the true miracle. To me, the true miracle is that in spite of humanity’s bent toward violence, destruction, and fearfulness healing continues to occur and the lives are transformed.

When we look throughout history, it’s remarkable that faith persists at all. The perception of “end days” violence today holds nothing against the atrocities against people, races, and nations throughout history. I personally might have lost faith in God if I had been part of the one million plus Armenians slaughtered in the early 1900’s or witnessed the inquisitions of the 12th and 13th century. Moreover, these are not isolated incidents. The pain and suffering of humanity when we look at the lives of everyday people has been and continues to be on a scale that most privileged people in the United States cannot begin to imagine. And yet, faith persists. The violence we wrought on one another cannot seem to squash the meaningful ways faith keeps us going despite all that we face.

We, as clergy, keep looking for people of faith to become something wholly different and completely transformed. I personally even preach about transformation in a way that unfortunately misleads people into thinking that they are chasing after a destination rather than an ongoing process that will be ever challenged and ever changing. But the reality of history and our daily lives is that of a process. We take steps forward that are met with a new challenge that could push us back.

Therefore, when we see people that work to stay bind to the injustice of the world or persons in the hospital who act “tougher than cancer,” we are seeing defense mechanisms that have been heaped on after experiencing so much disappointment and pain. Deep down they want to live a life of faithfulness that matches an unrealistic ideal. Deep down, that ideal crushes. But again, instead of completely running away, humanity finds a way to maintain some level of faith in spite of the struggles.

Truly I can’t tell you how many people I know that are completely unable to forgive themselves for their struggles in faith yet act content in their faith on the outside. Sadly, the notion of a loving and forgiving God is not near as difficult to grasp as the concept of forgiving ourselves. And still, we persist in faith.

The call of faith is tough and the notion of celebrating the journey is rarely upheld or practiced. We place too much emphasis on the destination or expect people to be at a point on their journey that is unrealistic given their experiences and level of faith. Yet, I suspect that reorienting ourselves to celebrating even the little milestones is what we need if we are to heal the sore spots that become barriers to healing. That healing likely won’t bring about a radical transformation in the church, but it is part of the ongoing work that counteracts the sorrow, fear, and destruction of the world. May we all be instruments of healing and peace that represent the true miracle of creation.

A Brief Encounter

Ordinary 22A – A sermon based upon Exodus 3:1-15

Good morning.  It is a true blessing to be back with you and I’ll be here for the next few weeks.  I’ve missed you but you’ve remained in my prayers.  And you’re never far from my heart, either.

Well, today’s scripture from Exodus is another one of those treasure troves of God’s wisdom.  I have chewed on it all week and kept hearing more revelation from God even though I knew I needed to narrow the focus.  So who knows, maybe I’ll preach this text again in a few weeks with a different focus.  But for now, we’ve got enough to chew on.

It’s that amazing story of Moses and the burning bush.  Moses was on his way to work and worried that he would be late but he turned to see what was happening up the hillside.  What was this fire that burned but did not consume the bush?  It turns out it was a message from God and a calling to do something remarkable.  God had heard the cry of the Israelites and wanted Moses to help in the work of spreading God’s liberation and justice.  Moses insisted that he would be too afraid to do this task.  He protested and told of reasons he could not do it but God’s call was still the same.   He wanted to know how this could be done.  And you know what?  God was not explicit on how this would happen even when asked.  God never offered a detailed roadmap of how to overthrow an empire.  But God’s promise to be with Moses through it all was loud and clear.

It’s a great story isn’t it?  It has all these amazing ways of thinking about it.  For example, we could ask what can we learn about God through this story.  What about what we can learn about Moses or human nature?  We could even ask about what we can learn about the life of people 3500 years ago.  But for this day, I think we might be well served by asking what we can learn about our lives today through this story.

What is it that we need to know so that we to can experience a life changing moment with God?  For Moses, this was just a brief encounter but it definitely changed the whole direction of his life.  So what are a few of the take-a-ways for our lives?

Well, for today, we’re going to focus in on three… how very three point sermon of me.  First, there are all kinds of burning bushes.  Second, we just might be missing some burning bushes around us already.  And third, following God’s call on our lives is not about having all the answers or always being fearless.

First, are there all kinds of burning bushes?  I know we read the stories of the bible and often wonder why doesn’t God light up a bush and talk to us sometime?  It would be much easier to have faith if God just spoke more loudly and clearly.  But even though we might like a burning bush or at least a nice email from God, God has already filled our lives with life changing messages that came in all kinds of forms.

For those of you who have felt the call to be involved in some sort of ministry or cause, how did you know that was the right thing to do?  Or when you were looking for a church home, how did you know this was the one?  And when you were struggling to find meaning, direction, or vocation, what led you down the path the fulfillment? 

See, I doubt it was a burning bush.  The answers to any one of those questions are going to be so varied among us.  It could have been a series of seemingly unrelated events that collided that made you see a certain direction… providence, if you will.  It might have been a still small voice that kept whispering the same thing to you over and over.  Perhaps it was a large event that happened long ago that changed you in a way that has altered your decision making ever since.  Regardless of what it looked like, if it was the right decision, it was God. 

God speaks to us in all kinds of ways.  God used Moses to speak to the Israelites and encourage them to believe that they would not always have to suffer.  God used passersby to tend to the wounds of an injured person.  God speaks through moments and whispers and people and God speaks to us in this time and place. 

It may not be a burning bush but unlocked, this bible has set lives on fire.  Social time between services may consume more donuts than a non-consuming flame but lives are transformed and the face of God is seen.  Vacation bible school, reaching out to one another as neighbors, community events, meals with loved ones, and ALL the countless ways we “hear” and “are” God’s voice in the world… oh yes, there are all kinds of burning bushes in our lives that set us on a path and guide us all the way.


Second, are there already burning bushes around us that we may have missed?  Well, let’s see.  There is a tale told by rabbis about why the bush was burning but not consumed.  I mean, for the purposes of delivering a message, does it really matter if the bush is left in ashes or not?  Well, as the story goes, the rabbis argued about this until one of them said, “The bush was burning but not consumed so that one day when Moses passed by he would finally notice it!”

If we re-read this passage, stopping to think that Moses might have missed it before, suddenly some of the language makes sense.  God put out this sign waiting for Moses to turn away from what he was doing long enough to notice it.  So, this bush needed to not be burned up by the flame.  It needed to last.

Now, whether or not the bush had been burning for years or just that afternoon doesn’t really matter. The point is that God did not put it right in front of Moses but rather it was off to the side and took some intentionality on Moses’ part to go to it.  The scripture says he had to turn aside from what he was doing to go over to the bush.

So, coming back to the idea that there are already burning bushes in our midst, how often are our lives like this? (walk past communion table in a hurry) Or this? (walk past communion table reading) Or this? (walk past communion table meandering) Or this? (walk past communion table on phone) Or this? (walk past communion table with a hurt back) Or this? (walk past communion table laughing) (Turn and finally notice the communion table)

The joys, the tears, and everything in between are always going on in our lives.  How often do we walk past the same thing and then finally one day see it?  I venture to guess, quite a bit.  And God knows that too.  Sometimes we probably do miss out on a message.  But for the big stuff, God keeps a bush lit for us.  That bush may have to be moved from place to place or time to time to keep up with us but it stays lit.

What do I mean by this?  Well, what would happen if we all took a bit to talk about the direction of this church?  I bet that conversation would end with some pretty amazing ideas about invigorating existing relationships or maybe starting new ministries.  It’s not that these are new ideas.  It’s just that we didn’t stop to notice them before now.

It only takes pausing for a bit and being willing to see something new or different to realize that God has set fire to a bush near each of us.  Maybe the message we’ve been missing is that of embracing something we weren’t sure we could handle.  It could be a message to forgive someone.  It might even be a calling to do something entirely different in our lives.  But the point is that when we are intentional to pause, look, and change course even a little, we always find a place God is speaking to us that we didn’t recognize before. 


So, to the final point, following God’s call on our lives is not about having all the answers or always being fearless.  If we know anything about Moses’ story, we know that he was plagued by repeated doubts, fears, and was nearly always asking God to “Prove it.”  And repeatedly God addressed the doubts, fears, and pleas to prove it with the reply “I will be with you.”

God’s greatest gift to Moses and to us is that we are never alone.  We are going to have fears and we are most definitely going to have doubts.  We are even going to be dissatisfied with the unclear plan we have in front of us and ask God to show us more of the road map.  But God’s constant answer is “I am with you.”  And then in due time, more is revealed.

So what does that mean in practical terms for us?  We need to keep our focus on what God has called us to do today and not let our anxiety and fear about the how all this is going to work out distract us.  And how does that happen?  We keep living as the body of Christ, watching and responding to burning bushes as they appear. 

Consider what the Pastor Nominating Committee does.  They join together seeking the voice of God each week.  Now I am positive they might prefer an obvious burning bush but the fact of the matter is that their ongoing relationship with one another makes them more and more aware of God’s presence and work in this place.  Their work is hard and produces a lot of fear and anxiety. I bet every one of them worry “what if we get it wrong?”  Have they missed a few burning bushes?  In this case, I doubt it.  But I am absolutely sure that God is with them.  They need only keep on the path before them until a new burning bush illuminates God’s way.  And we need to support them by offering encouragement and reminding them that God’s guidance will be present in this church, no matter what.

But the practical part of knowing God is with us even though we fear doesn’t end there.  When John Karins died last month, the presence of God was felt by his family because this congregation responded with love and support.  When the church needs juice boxes for vacation bible school, we bring them in.  When a hurricane strikes the east coast, we donate to the Red Cross.  When there is a new birth in our midst, we celebrate with one another. 

All of these things we do as the body of Christ, Emmanuel… God with us, are a constant reminder that we are not alone.  Our fears will find comfort in God and one another.  The path we should take will be made known if we hold together as a body.  Even the future of this church, it’s members, and it’s leadership are secure in the workings of God.  Our job is to keep moving forward as a body and being ever watchful for that next burning bush.  Amen.

Peace for What?

Peace for What? <–- audio file of sermon. A sermon based upon John 20:19-31

Good morning. First off, let me go ahead and acknowledge that you might have noticed something different about me today. Is it new glasses? No. Perhaps a new outfit? No. The answer is I shaved my head 2 days ago at a charity event raising money for and awareness of childhood cancers. Some of you know that I do this every year and it’s always a wonderful event. Actually, the child we honored at the event was in the hospital and unable to attend. But like I said, it was still a wonderful occasion and such a great cause.

And just so you know, it is okay to ask me questions about it. It is okay to stare. And if you ask, I’ll even let you rub my head. But when you look at my head, please remember all those who struggle with cancer and need our support and then say a prayer for them.

Okay, now back to the task at hand. What do we make of these disciples and of good ole doubting Thomas? This is a story that a week and a half ago, I was going to preach pretty much the same thing we usually do. I thought we were going to look at the struggle between intuition and fact and of the different ways of knowing. I thought we might focus on how Christ comes to us no matter what our needs are so we need not vilify Thomas for being slow to believe.

But then Sunday night our televisions, radios, Facebook pages, and text messages starting buzzing with news that the President would speak. Soon the word came out that Osama Bin Laden was dead. And from that point forward broke a frenzy of praise, sorrow, questions, debate, and doubt. And somewhere in all this, a few people paused to ask, “what should the Christian response be?”

What should the Christian response be to the death of a man who apparently has masterminded the deaths of thousands of innocent lives? What should the Christian response be to the death of a man who struck fear in the hearts of so many? What should the Christian response be to the death of a man who was also a husband, father, grandfather, brother, and someone’s child? What should the Christian response be to the death of a man who had become so consumed by hate and fear that he could not see the humanity in others?

Sisters and brothers, I’m not going down a road toward telling you what you should believe politically or think about Osama Bin Laden. But I am going down a road that points to what happens when we live behind locked doors.

Let’s take another look at this passage. The passage begins, “When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’”

See, when we think about this passage in time, Jesus had just been crucified and died. That very morning Mary and Mary had discovered the empty tomb. Jesus had appeared to some of them on the road and they were sharing the news. But the general feeling amongst all of them was fear. They were afraid for their lives and afraid for their futures. They closed themselves off and locked the door. But Christ comes through the barriers and says, “Peace be with you.”

Later in the passage, we have the same disciples only this time Thomas is also there and he has not believed that Jesus was truly resurrected. The passage reads, “A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.”

Here again we have the closed doors that are presumably locked. Even a week later, the disciples are hiding out rather than being out and about. And Jesus comes through the barriers to once again pronounce, “Peace be with you.”

So, what do we make of this? It would be easy to speed on past these verses and get to the story of Thomas’ disbelief. But I don’t think these verses are here by accident and I don’t think John went to the trouble of noting the closed doors if it weren’t an issue for us to learn from.

First of all I think we need to have grace and compassion in our hearts just as Christ did when we look at this story otherwise we get caught up in judgment. These people were scared. Jesus had been their companion and champion. They believed he was going to restore justice in the land. They hadn’t yet realized his justice would be of a more far reaching kind. So in their fear, they retreated to a home and hid out.

But Jesus came in and didn’t speak harsh words or judgment. He wanted them to be at ease and to release their fear. He greeted them with a wish and hope for peace in their lives. Christ wants them to not fear or to feel worse for their struggle. He wanted them to heal. His words were about understanding their experience and knowing that more than anything, they needed to let go of the fear and receive peace and the hope that springs from it.

This is truly an amazing model for our lives. It is an orientation toward people that begins with saying, “I want to know and understand you and your needs.” To have a starting place of grace and compassion in our hearts is a starting point of love rather than assessing, judging, categorizing, or any of the other countless ways we sum people up without first seeking to understand them and their experience.

When we are scared and either literally or metaphorically close ourselves off, what would it be like if someone who loves us came on in and spoke love and peace into our hearts, minds, and spirits? How would we react if that person looked at us with eyes of compassion that told us that our experiences and feelings are safe with them?

And looking outside of ourselves, what if we were the person who could be that voice of peace, love, and healing for the one who has walled themselves off? When we’re dealing with the person who lashes out at us, what if our starting place was that of looking into how someone got so overrun by fear rather than lashing back at them? What if our priority was to truly know and understand people and their experiences instead of quickly assessing what category they fit into?

Now coming back to where I started with the death of Bin Laden, I’m not saying that there isn’t a time to make people stand accountable for their crimes or that understanding why someone is fearful is an excuse for the way they may have hurt others. There is a time for that accountable justice. There is even a time and a place for those categories like liar, cheater, greedy, selfish, terrorist, and murderer. Those classifications can help us as a society understand who has been hurt and how to exact justice. But those categories should never be a substitute for seeking to know and understand one another. That’s just not what the Christian life is about.

The Christian life is found in our second point today. Christ’s peace and calling are to fling open the doors and live out in the world as agents of love and healing. Jesus said, “Peace be with you” not only as a way to still their anxious spirits but to clear the path to move beyond the fear and anxiety. Next, he breathed the Holy Spirit upon them and told them to go out and spread the Good News and extend the gift of the forgiveness of sins to all. Their job, their calling was to be out in the world. They had received the Spirit and the Spirit should not and cannot be contained behind closed doors.

So what does this mean to us? Well, more often than not, our fears come out in more subtle ways that are not directly damaging to others but cause harm we will never see. We wall ourselves off from certain “kinds” of people or places thereby cutting of relationship after relationship after relationship. We convince ourselves that our fears are actually wise judgments or well thought out beliefs so we don’t need to bother with this person or that group. We tell ourselves that “they” are sinners or liars or too uneducated to understand or too far beyond help. We convince ourselves that we need not worry about them because they don’t want our help anyway. We use words terms like “crazy liberal” and “snooty” to feel better about not looking at them as a whole person.

But maybe that’s just the problem. The message of Christ doesn’t start with figuring out what category someone fits in to or how to fix them. It starts with understanding. Instead of seeing “they” and “them” we need to see a person struggling or striving or searching and look more deeply into how that journey has shaped their life. When our starting point is that of trying to understand someone, the issue of helping will then naturally into place. And you know what else? We often find that we were helped in some way too.

Now, I’m not saying living the Christian life means to blindly walk up to a person who’s fear may have built to the point of violence. But I am saying that it means unlocking the doors of fear we’ve constructed for ourselves. It means gently challenging the fears of others by seeking to understand them and being open so that they can understand us. It means challenging our own fears by trusting in the peace of Christ to overcome all.

Does all this sound too big? Well, it starts here. The church is the proving grounds for how we’ll live in the world. We start with the people around us and let go of seeing the labels and the judgments and the walls that keep us from seeing the whole person.

With Christ’s peace, we can let go of seeing the person who snubbed us when we needed a friend or the person who complains instead of helping or the person who boasts instead of listening. And when we let go of the categories of judgment we might understand that we weren’t actually snubbed because the other person was deeply depressed at the time. And those complaints are just a mask for loneliness. And the boasting was just a mask for fear. If we can let the walls we have between us down long enough to understand one another, we’ll cultivate such a deep community we’ll have the strength to go out into the world and do this with others.

And we already do. Look at the Kairos ministry. That’s an amazing example of understanding that leads to healing. And I could stand here and name ministries and individual actions in this congrigation that over and over reflect the triumph of Christ’s peace and the healing of understanding. But today’s passage reminds us that there’s always more to be done.

The Christian response to Bid Laden’s death is not as simple as cheering or grieving. We must seek to be thoughtful and compassionate, appreciating justice yet seeking greater reconciliation. Christ’s call in the world always begins with peace that breaks down fear. That peace leads to understanding. And understanding leads to healing.

Sisters and brothers, whatever fears we are hiding behind or keep locked away, Christ breaks in past them and says, “Peace be with you.” As we leave here today, let us be bold to hear and receive that peace. Let us be brave to understand and be understood. Let us be trusting in Christ’s calling and be agents of healing and reconciliation in the world. Amen.