Tears of Hope

I’ve spent most of today crying.  This isn’t really surprising if you look at the current circumstances of my life.  My mother has terminal cancer, my work has some difficult pieces of conflict that will not have resolution for some time, and I have other family circumstances that I’m not free to discuss publically but worry me to literal sickness and fill me with dread.  But it’s not those things per se that have left me crying today.

Today, I’m crying because of a wonderfully whole yet complicated sense of vulnerability.  Last night at work, I sat with a family who discussed their child’s illness and I was struck in a different way by their experience of fear and dread.  I heard it in a way I had never fully understood emotionally even though I did intellectually and academically.  I heard their fear of death and it struck me in a deeply personal way. 

See, I’ve spent most of my life outrunning a legacy of abuse, crushing depression, and illness that have left me feeling as though my death would be a welcome thing.  In spite of my desire for my suffering in this world to end, I’ve pushed forward and lived what others would consider a full life.  I’ve cultivated a family, friendships, and pastoral relationships in a way that reflect my faith that every moment matters in spite of my desire for my suffering to end.

But a funny thing has happened over the past few years.  I’ve experienced healing in ways I didn’t imagine and I hope isn’t done yet.  I’ve moved into and through the suffering to a place of peace with most of it.  Some of it will always be there but I have a growing sense that I am not just my suffering.  Maybe a better way to say it is that I am now living more and more because I love life and not in spite of suffering.

Oh sure, I still have bad days and I suspect my predilection toward suicidal thoughts will always be there but it isn’t all I am.  Yet I’ve had to ask the question “who am I if I’m not suffering?” because so much of my identity has been built around my deep understanding of that experience.  Some would tell you that one of the reasons I’m such a good friend and chaplain is that people sense I truly understand their sorrow and I’m not afraid to go to the dark places with them.  In part, I believe that’s true. Nevertheless, I have a growing suspicion that it’s not the whole story.

All of this brings me to my tears of today.  Since listening last night to that family’s fears of their child dying, I keep flashing on my own precious life and all the things I don’t want to lose or leave behind.  I keep thinking of my wife, daughter, brother, and others who I love so deeply that their loss would break my heart into a thousand pieces.  I keep thinking about my own tenuous health and how desperately I don’t want to leave those things behind.

For the first time in my life, I love more than I hurt and so I want to cling to every precious second I have with those people.  Before, their loss would have been more shattering to an already pulverized soul.  Now, love lives so much larger that the thought of losing them or leaving them fills me with vulnerability and brings tears to my eyes in an ironically hopeful way.  I say ironically hopeful because it has taken finally outrunning my longing for death to realize that my new fear of death reflects healing and restoration.

I don’t know what all this will mean for my work as a chaplain.  I can’t imagine that it’ll have a negative impact.  But that’s not really today’s concern.  For now, I’m crying.  I’m crying for fear, for hope, for love.  And these tears are sacred.  Amen.

Living Among Us

Advent 3B – Living Among Us – sermon based upon Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18 & John 1:1-14

Good morning.  We’re halfway through Advent which brings us nearer and nearer to Christmas.  As we’ve been journeying to Bethlehem, we’ve been exploring the themes of our Advent devotional.  So far we’ve looked at the extraordinary faith that it took to journey under such conditions and the unexpected peace that was found in an unlikely place.  This week, we’re going to focus on new life.

New life is a phrase that can mean lots of different things to us depending upon where we are in our own lives.  It can be the very literal experience of having a child.  It can also be an equally momentous occasion of a radical transformation where we find new life through the healing of an old wound.  For example, think of helping someone else through their grief with the power of our own experience or the use of a painful encounters like bullying to help support others.  New life can also be in finding new worth for something that was previously cast away.  An example of this might be the renovating of an old building to usefulness or tapping into an old hobby for new pleasure.  We’ve even used our God given skills to bring new life through organ donation.  And each day we wake up and move forward in hope, we are claiming the promise of new life.

We could make long lists of our experience with new life and we should be able to do this.  Why should we?  Because as our gospel lesson says, “What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”  See, by our faith and I would suggest by our very God given nature, we are seekers of life.  We find darkness and destruction unpleasant, even unbearable.  But life… now that’s something we really crave.

We crave it and God provides it.  God’s love poured out on us and the glimpses of joy we receive when basking in that love are amazing experiences of life.  Those feelings like our Psalm talks about of being held, understood, loved, known, supported, and special invigorate in us a sense of life and liveliness.  To be fearfully and wonderfully made is to know life while at the same time having a sense of just how fragile and precious it all is.  It’s diving into the wonder and experience no matter what the journey may bring.

So, let’s think back to Jesus’ birth for a moment.  The past few weeks, we’ve talked about the uncertainty of this time and journey for Mary and Joseph.  They moved forward in faith and hope but it was still an anxiety filled and treacherous time.  In the time of the Roman Empire, over 30% of all babies born would die before they were a year old.  Compared to today, far less than 1% of babies die in this country.  I think the number is something like 0.6% infant mortality rate.

I believe the courage to bring a baby into a world where you know that 1/3 of your children will die young is pretty remarkable.  And even if the baby lives, lots of other dangerous things awaited.  The average life expectancy in that time was only 28.  If you were lucky enough to avoid being in the army and you made it to adulthood, you might live to be 52 but that was a very hopeful expectation.  So when ask what new life means in Bethlehem, I think we need to stop and realize that it means far more than what we might see at first glance here in the modern era.

You see, I think we don’t realize that when Angels foretold of this special baby becoming a special man, that was nearly unheard of in that time.  Birthrights, future prospects, and such were not things that were typically discussed until a child neared adulthood because there were too many things that could go wrong.  So when we read of God’s promise to this family that a child would be king, we are reading of something that is not only miraculous from a spiritual standpoint but also a miracle in a very practical way as well. 

But assuming that we can wrap our minds around how amazing this story is, we are still left trying to figure out how to take this remarkable narrative and combine it with our God given desire for new life and do something useful with it.  We know the true meaning of Advent and Christmas isn’t in shopping and gift giving or in decorations or holiday treats.  There’s nothing wrong with those things but it’s not what that precious birth or the Word becoming flesh is all about.  So what is it that ties all this together for us in our daily lives?

Well, in our gospel lessons the previous two weeks, we read Christ’s birth stories.  They tell us of a special child who was coming to be a special leader, Emmanuel… God with us.  This week’s gospel lesson reminds us that Christ lived and lives among us even still as the true light of God in our lives.  As much as we love the birth stories in Matthew and Luke, I have to be honest and say that I find the true meaning of Christmas in this passage from John.

Let’s re-read part of this passage from John chapter 1: It goes,

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him.  But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.

What we’re really talking about here is creation.  God brought all this forth.  And why?  Was it to prove God’s powerfulness?  No.  At its very core, all of God’s actions are born out of love.  This light that brings things into being is a rich and full metaphor for love.  The act of bringing a child into the world is an act of love.  God’s reaching out to Mary and Joseph and all creation to become flesh and live among us is an act of love.  Our craving for life is an act of love.  The shedding the commercial elements of Christmas to get to the real root of God’s gift is an act of love. 

Everywhere we look in this story, our lives, and God’s promises, we see that God is constantly reaching to us in love and the gift we receive in that is new life.  This birth is “not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.”  New life is always about love and hope and promise in God.  And new life is our gift to claim each and every day with the enthusiasm of a child opening the biggest Christmas present under the tree.

See, much like the way Scrooge in A Christmas Carol comes to live with Christmas in his heart every day of the year; we too can do that by embracing the love and new life that God offers us each day.  Love that heals, hope that builds vision, peace that comforts, and faith that guides are ours when we open ourselves to what Christ has for us and God provides to us.  This Word that became flesh, Emmanuel, God with us, is truly full of grace and truth.

But just like Mary and Joseph found it hard to claim God’s promise and new life in the face of so much danger, we too often find it difficult to claim new life in the midst of grief, worry, doubt, financial struggles, and other hardships.  We may not face the same trials as Mary and Joseph but life is still fragile and complicated by adversity.  Yet, our hope always lies in God and the promise of new life that is offered to us just as it was to Mary and Joseph.

Sisters and brothers, Advent, Christmas, and the journey to Bethlehem are times to recognize how remarkable God’s love is and the new life that can be found in Christ.  The opportunity to embrace new life, renewal, and hope are rooted in the gifts God implants within us.  God leads us through all that happens in our lives showing us ways to remember who and who’s we are.  Life in Christ can be new life each and every day, redeemed and renewed.  May we receive the love that God is pouring out and let it breathe new life into this holiday and all days.  Amen.

Peaceful Refuge

Advent 2B – sermon based upon Psalm 34:1-7, 15-22 & Luke 2:1-20

Good morning. As we continue to make our way toward Bethlehem, we are looking more deeply at some of the gifts that Advent brings. In case you missed it last week, each week in worship we are tying in the theme from the Advent devotional in a variety of ways.  The music, liturgy, and even the scriptures have been chosen to walk us through the true gifts of this season.  This past week, we've explored the gift of faith.  On this second week of Advent we're looking at the gift of peace.  And new life and love are the themes we'll connect with in the coming weeks. 

So today, we have a story of what it looks like to  have nearly everything you think could go wrong, go wrong and still it turns into the best Christmas ever... well, I guess it's the first Christmas ever.

All joking aside, it really is one of those stories that we might be tempted to rush to the happy ending and say it all worked out.  But it wasn’t easy to get to that happy ending.  A nine month expectant mother and her fiancé had to take a dangerous trip because the government needed to tax them.  Upon arrival, there wasn’t room for them in the inn nor did they have the money for a nicer place.  We can assume they didn’t have family in the area either.   They were all alone and in a bind.  But they found refuge in a barn and in the end discovered blessings and a peace they could have never imagined.

Most of us are unlikely to have such an experience that is still being told over 2000 years later but it is much like many experiences we have all had.  For example, on the way to what was supposed to be a special dinner out for my grandmother’s 75th birthday, we got a flat tire.  Then, I stained my shirt changing the tire. At this point we’re running late and if you knew my grandmother, you’d know that punctuality is next to Godliness.  By the time we got to the restaurant, we were so late they gave away our reservations.  So, we walk down the road to a greasy spoon diner because it's the only place without a wait and we're tired and hungry and cranky by this point so we go in. 

Once inside, we meet a server who smiles and treats us like family.  She brings us coffee without asking because she can see we're cold.  She tells the soup is no good but the meatloaf is outstanding.  And it turns into an evening of comfort and refuge in an unlikely place.

That is a true story and I can tell you lots of others.  In my work at the hospital, I meet people all the time who think the worst thing that could ever happen to them would be for their child to be sick and in the hospital.  They cry with agony and worry about how they don't think they can handle it.  They wonder where God is and why this is happening.  They feel alone and lost in a strange place.

But if they keep their eyes open and don't succumb to the despair, what they find is people that have their best interest at heart.  They feel hands of care and concern that will hold them in the tough moments.  They experience support that comes in unexpected forms and packages.  And most importantly, they find God working in their lives, even in this unfamiliar and scary place.  I can't tell you how many families when referring to the hospital say to me something like, "This place has been the home we never expected and blessing we didn't know we needed."

Life is like that.  Just when it isn't going the way we wanted, we find that God has prepared a place for us where we least expected it.  And God is like that.  When we toil in the brokenness of the world, God reaches out making a safe harbor in humble and unexpected places. 

So, what do we make of all this?  Why is it that sometimes we find God in the dark places and sometimes we don't?  Is it that God wants to help us some of the time and other times we're on our own?  Is it that God picks and chooses on supporting us?

Well, I don't think it works that way.  From what we learn in this scripture and what I've seen working at the hospital and in my own life, I believe that God is always reaching and supporting us even if we can't always see it.   And more than that, I suspect that we would be far worse off if God weren't constantly reaching toward us to help and support us.  Oh, it’s true that sometimes we succumb to despair or become blinded by bitterness or get lost in the mire of worry so much so that we can no longer see God's work and provision for our lives.  But when we can stay open to God's work, amazing things happen.

Let’s think back on this story for a minute.  If Mary had let the worry of such a long journey overcome her, we wouldn't have such an amazing birth story.  If Joseph had let the frustration about having to travel at such an in convenient time blind him, he might have mouthed off to the inn keeper and not even gotten to use the barn.  If the shepherds had been more concerned with their own matters, they would have missed seeing the young messiah.  Things in this story weren’t going so well for them but they kept journeying forward faithfully.  And because they did, they found God’s love and provision laid out for them.

See, this journey toward Bethlehem is one of unknowns and fears like we talked about last week.  But faith is journeying forward anyway.  Yet, God gives us more than what we need for just a faithful journey.  We can find peace along the way.  We can know safe havens and helpful nurture.  We can experience God's love and work for us that is present and reaching to us even when we can't yet see or receive it.  But when we can, peaceful nights of sleep, calm in the storm, and blessings in the midst of difficulty are there for us to claim.

So how do we tap into God’s support for us when we’re just nearly so overwhelmed that we can’t take another step?  How do we keep from letting frustration about our circumstances and disappointments get the better of how we deal with it so we can be open to the peaceful refuge God has offered?  And what does that refuge even look like?

Well, just like in our biblical story and the stories I told, it requires openness on our part to believe in and see God’s blessing in the tough times.  I’m not saying that we have to just be optimistic.  Being optimistic is not always realistic.  For example, we can’t use positive thinking to take care of mortgage difficulty or brokenness in our relationships.  Optimism alone in such situations would leave us homeless and alone. 

Instead, openness to the goodness around us is more like faith than optimism.  It’s listening to that inner voice to pick up the phone and call a friend for help rather than toughing it out alone.  It’s allowing ourselves to see something differently so that we recognize the blessing instead of seeing just another obstacle.  It’s knowing that we are really not alone and that if we hold fast to what is truly important, we will find safe harbor even if it doesn’t look like what we expected. 

Sisters and brothers, the journey to Bethlehem was a tough one but God provided from them in ways they didn’t know and couldn’t expect.  Still today, God is working in our lives to help us along the way.  As we journey in faith, may we always be open to the peace and refuge that God offers regardless of what it looks like.  May we support one another to ease the burdens.  And may we truly experience God’s provision for us when we need it most.  Amen.

Building The Kingdom

Ordinary 27A – Sermon based upon Psalm 19 and Matthew 21:33-46

Good morning.  It’s good to be with you on this World Communion Sunday.  It’s a special day when we pause to recognize in gratitude all the different peoples and cultures in which Christianity and the fellowship of the table thrive.  So you might be wondering what today’s scripture message does to uphold that notion because on the surface, it just doesn’t seem to fit.

I mean here we have this story of gang like violence where the workers of a vineyard scheme against the owner, selfishly claim their own superiority, and even brutally kill the owner’s servants and son.  So what is up with this passage that it shows up in the lectionary on World Communion Sunday? 

This passage is one of those parables that stands out from Jesus’ usual teaching parables.  This parable does not use story telling to reveal something of the nature of God, as do so many others parables. One of the reasons is that rather than being aimed at the every day folks of faith, this one is aimed at the religious leaders.  So this parable that seems to have been misnamed “the parable of the wicked tenants" really should be something else. The tenants, of course, play a major role, because Jesus is pointing to the way the Pharisees have mistaken their leadership over Israel for outright ownership of Israel.  But the real focus of the parable is to clarify who Jesus is.

Now when I started writing this sermon, I thought I’d spend a lot of time talking about the history of what all the symbols mean and what it’s getting at but I’m going to do something else instead.  So, I’m going to give as quick an overview of the historical and symbolic significance and meaning as I can.  And then I’m going to move forward to something more practical.  But if you feel like you missed out on some of the nitty gritty of deciphering this passage, just ask me later and we can discuss it for hours.

So we have this cast of characters.  The tenants represent the religious leaders who are more concerned with their own wealth and status.  They want to “inherit” is rightfully Jesus’.  They are responsible for pointing Israel to God, yet they have instead pointed her to themselves. The indictment, then, is not against the people Israel per se, or even against the temple "institution," but rather against God's appointed leaders.  The slaves symbolize prophets sent by God to call the leaders back to God’s purposes.  The son represents Jesus, the son of God.  And the owner represents God. 

Well, the tenants kill the slaves and the son in an attempt to claim the inheritance from the owner.  But then the owner comes and restores the son that was previously cast off… killed.  And all of this points to how amazing the works of God are.

Who is Jesus according to this parable? He is the Son who has come to reclaim what rightfully belongs to his Father. He is the Son whose mission is violently rejected by the Father's own tenants. He is the Son whose rejection is vindicated by the Father. And he is the Son whose vindication prompts the final judgment of the unfaithful tenants.

In coming to reclaim what rightly belongs to his Father, the Son sets out to restore the world to its divinely created order. One need only look at Jesus' ministry to see what this looks like: the sick are made well, sinners are restored, and God is praised.  In short, Jesus brings wholeness to a broken world, providing glimpses into what he elsewhere calls "the kingdom of heaven."

So that is the somewhat quick overview of this passage.  But there’s a part I want to zero in on.  Verse 40 reads, “Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?"

That’s really the million-dollar question, isn’t it? What will he do to them? What will the one in charge do to those who have blatantly, flagrantly disobeyed and violated their roles?  They’ve even committed murder.

Well, listeners said the owner should kill them all and start fresh.  But let’s go back to what all this symbolizes.  Is that what God did to the Jewish leaders?  Is that what God does to religious leaders today that go awry?  Is that how God deals with any of us in our failings? 

No it is not.  Jesus may have been pointing to himself as the savior but he was also pointing to a God that never gives up on God’s people.  This parable tells us that the son who has been killed… you know, Jesus will be restored and become the cornerstone, holding all of this together. 

God’s work is not that of smiting and smacking us down when we fail.  God’s work is that of restoring and reconciling us.  God raised up his son and restored him for the goodness and healing of creation. 

This stands in stark contrast to persons of faith in that time and still today who act with self serving intentions.  They call for judgment of those around them.  They use the failings of others to feel superior while ignoring the log in their own eye. They see control and conquest rather than reconciliation and healing.

But before we get too carried away with all these “they” do this and “they” do that’s, we need to be humble enough to see that sometimes we all fall into that kind of judgmental thinking.  We get focused on our particular ways of doing things and turn those into our standards instead of using God’s measuring stick of love and mercy.

And I think that is the real point of this parable today.  Jesus was talking to the Pharisees but if Jesus told us this parable today, and we replied with “kill the tenants,” I hope we would be able to see that the message of Jesus being a conduit for restoring the kingdom through peaceful means instead of vengeful ones would sink into our hearts and minds.  I hope we could see God’s interest in making creation whole rather than clear cutting the land.  And I hope we can receive the healing of that part in us that calls for retaliation so that we can be co-creators with God in building the Kingdom.

So here we are.  It’s World Communion Sunday where we celebrate the way God has reached out with wide arms to the world.  We collect the Peacemaking offering that goes to programs both near and far that work to be beacons of God’s peace, love, and mercy.  And even if those things weren’t going on, we ourselves need a good bit of God’s love and mercy rather than the judgment and shame we so often heap upon ourselves and one another. 

Sisters and brothers, we’ve gone all the way from a bizarre parable of gang like violence to God’s message that healing comes through the peaceful and loving reconciliation through Christ.  That’s one wild journey.  But I think it mirrors our own experience.  We have no trouble imaging the violence but we have trouble making the leap to peaceful healing.  But that is the point. We don’t have to make the jump.  Christ made the leap for us.  And thanks be to God for that. 

Our charge is to be humble and open to God’s work of healing and reconciliation. May we be every willing to be part of the Kingdom God is building with us.  Amen.

Of Patriots and Prophets

Ordinary 14A - A sermon based upon Matthew 5:38-48

Good morning. When I left here last week I was aware that we would have patriotic music and a flag pole dedication today. I was also aware that tomorrow is Independence Day so I wanted to work the sermon into the theme.

But when looking at the bible, that’s harder to do than you might think. You see, God, Jesus, and the prophets of the bible spend more time speaking against governments than nearly any other single thing in all of scripture. Yet, governments throughout history have prayed for and claimed God’s favor in the name of their nation.

Truly, the history of humanity has all kinds of governments claiming God’s support and provision. They range from governments like ours which uphold virtues of justice, equality, and liberty to dictatorships and tyrants like Hitler and Nazi Germany. So, how do we know that we’re being patriotic in a way that has honor and integrity?

See, I think we live in a time that it’s easy to be cynical or overzealous about patriotism. Our cultural climate and the events of the world almost make us go to one extreme of excessive skepticism or the other of unencumbered dedication. But national allegiance, like faith is not that easy. Being an engaged citizen of a nation, state, city, community, or even a congregation takes work that can’t be boiled down to either / or kinds of stances.

So, where can we find guidance on what patriotism looks like? Well, I think there are several biblical passages we could look to for guidance on this but for today, we’re looking at part of Matthew chapter 5. As Christians, I think Jesus would tell us that our patriotism should look pretty much like our faith.

The hallmarks of our faith are about glorifying God and living our salvation and freedom from sin in a way that works for the healing and betterment of others. That hymn lyric, “They’ll know we are Christians by our love” comes to mind.

In today’s scripture reading, we get a very straightforward message from Jesus about how to live in community and even in the world. The message is that we love. We love our neighbor. We find ways of loving our enemy. We go the extra mile to care for those in need. We don’t lash out at others. And we humbly acknowledge that God is already working in others and for others in ways we don’t always recognize or understand.

Now that last one may seem like it doesn’t fit in that list but it does. Jesus says, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.” God’s provision is being poured out on all, not just the good people or the right nations or a certain kind of people. And we are responsible for being bearers of love in all people’s lives with the hope that we all cultivate greater awareness of the One from whom all blessings flow.

Now that’s a tall order for sure and it leaves some questions that I think we should at least pause to think about even if we can’t answer them with fullness and certainty. The first question we might should think about that comes from applying this biblical passage to our lives as nation citizens is, do we put the names of God and Christ on everything and do we spend time trying to prove God’s involvement in events of the world? I don’t raise that question to sound antagonistic. Given the deeply divided debates in this nation about displaying the ten commandments and prayer in schools, it seems to be a worthy question. Do we spend our time proving that God has a hand in Government and world affairs?

First, I want to suggest that much of what comes up in this sermon looks very different for each and every one of us because we each have different gifts and responsibilities. So what our civic actions look like are different much like we each have different functions in the body of Christ. But to start to answer this question I think we can go back to the question of does it look like our faith? If the hallmarks of our faith are, as was said earlier, to glorify God and to uplift others, does spending so much arguing really do either of those?

It seems that repeatedly the biblical message is about getting out there and doing the work of love rather than arguing whose ideas are better. Perhaps a better use of time for most of us… keep in mind I’ve left the door open to the idea that some of us are called to do that kind of work… but for most of us our time would be better spent being beacons of love, justice, and mercy rather than pouring so much energy into arguing for who’s faith gets the credit.

This leads to the question can a nation claim God? Well, I think nations, groups, and people should claim when they recognize something as being a gift from God but we must be careful to not claim God’s preference for one nation over another. Just like the Matthew text says that God pours out provision on all, we must first hear that God’s preference is for humanity, not a particular nation. It may be that the United States can trace ideals of justice, freedom, and liberty to Christian beliefs but we by no means have a monopoly on God’s desire for all to experience justice and freedom from that which binds us. So, when we claim God’s presence and work in this nation, we must first claim God’s overarching love and work for all humanity.

Now I think we should pause here for a moment and lift up calling in the body of Christ that can really help us here. When asking the question of what nations should be doing and how we as Christians should be participating I left the door open to the idea that some are called to be civically engaged in different ways. And I think no discussion of patriotism is complete without honoring the calling of the prophet.

In biblical times, the prophet did the same as today. This is the person who stands up and says what goes against the flow but brings us back to the ideals of honoring God and making God’s creation a better place. Prophets are the ones who make us see differently and wonder more deeply. They are the ones that often make our blood boil and step on our toes. They are clarifiers and proclaimers of God’s voice in the world and if we are to be both faithful Christians and patriots, we would do well to listen to them.

Take for example, Martin Luther King, Jr. In his Nobel Peace Prize speech, he said, “Man must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love.” Dr. King was a voice that repeatedly called us back to passages such as the one from Matthew. He was saying that we have to find peaceful and loving ways of dealing with conflict. Lashing out is not an option. Embracing our enemies with love is the only way.

And don’t think that there are no living prophets right now. There are plenty. Archbishop Desmond Tutu, Susan Burton, and Robin Blakeman come to my mind and if you don’t know who the last two are, don’t worry. They work on local levels and will never gain national attention but they are prophets of God nonetheless.

So what does all this mean for us? What do we need to be doing to cultivate love and glorify God on this Independence day and all days? Well, I think we do get involved. Our Christian calling tells us that we are to act for and on behalf of the poor and the ones without support. We do this within our faith community through all kinds of outreach programs but we can also do it through civic action. What about helping out with after school reading programs or letter writing to politicians for education funding? Some of us even hear God’s call to protect others and go into military or public service. The list of things that our faith might compel us to do when we act as a citizen of the United States is endless.

And that’s a real gift of our faith in this nation. We do have the freedom to grow in our faith out in the light of the world. And because of that freedom to engage our religion so openly, we can do even more to help bring about justice in the world.

Sisters and brothers, it is right and good that we celebrate fellowship with our family, friends, and community this weekend. Celebration is holy and a gift from God. But as we move past the festivities and cook-outs, the invitation of Matthew 5 is to ask what more can we do to bring about an experience of God’s love in the world and then go and do it. And that is patriotism we can live into. 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.

I, You, and We

I, You, and We <-- audio file of sermon based upon Jeremiah 29:1,4-7

Good morning. Last week we studied a pastoral letter from Paul to Timothy and his church. It was a letter of encouragement and a calling to stay connected with their core gifts and faith. This week we have a letter from Jeremiah which is also a pastoral letter but one that is prophetic. Paul’s letter was telling people how to cultivate faith here and now. Jeremiah’s letter is looking toward the future and setting out the vision of how to still be a thriving people in the future.

Even though we only read a small piece of this letter, it’s part of a larger letter that to the Jewish people while they were in exile. See, to really get the most out of this passage, we need to understand what was going on that Jeremiah was sending this letter. It’s a very painful time for the Jewish people. The Kingdom of Judah fell to the Babylonians and now the Jewish people have literally been deported to live in exile. Their homes have been taken, their religious center in Jerusalem has been destroyed, and everything they ever knew and trusted was turned upside down.

So here they are, living in Babylon amongst people and customs unknown to them but things aren’t safe and secure here either. This was a period of deep unrest throughout the fertile crescent. Empires had and would continue to rise and fall, taking lots of innocent people with them. The Jewish people were probably living amongst lots of people away from their homelands and the Babylonians could fall at any time uprooting them all once again.

This is a time of unrest, fear, and deep concern for their future. And it’s in this moment that Jeremiah writes to them saying,

Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.

You see Jeremiah was telling them to continue to do the everyday things that it not only takes to survive but to thrive. Continue to have children. Continue to cultivate relationships. Multiply.

Now, we need to be clear that this was a very different time and place than where we live now. Relationships were usually not about love. Marriages in that time were more like contract law, trade agreements, and alliance building for the safety of people. Few people in the bible or any ancient texts are said to have married for love or even come to love their spouses because this is a very different time of desperation. But what is clear is that in land full of danger and a time when babies and mothers died 50% of the time, having children was absolutely essential for people to survive so Jeremiah was clear that they needed to increase, not decrease.

Which all this leads us to what I think is the most important verse in the passage where Jeremiah tells them, “seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.” “For in its welfare you will find your welfare”… That must have been pretty hard to hear as a Jew in exile. I imagine it was hard for Jeremiah to say. I mean, here’s this prophet who is usually offering messages of revolution and thundering power who is telling people to pray for and work for the betterment of the community they find themselves in. This must have seemed offensive to people who had been deported and robbed of the homes they once knew. But it is God’s message to them through the prophet Jeremiah nevertheless.

Just like Jeremiah knew their survival was wrapped up in continuing to have children he also knew that their future was now intertwined in the safety of the Babylonians. To work for peace in Babylon was to work for peace in their own homes and vice versa.

Now this is a pretty hefty message in just a few short verses. A good summary of this passage might be, to truly prosper, we need to take care of our own house as well as the house of others by working for peace and safety. But what does this mean to us? In this country, babies and mothers survive nearly all of the time. Instead of dying at a rate of better than 50%, they survive over 99.5% of the time. And we have the privilege of entering into relationships for reasons of love, not just survival. So what does Jeremiah’s message of I take care of my house, you take care of yours, and we take care of each other’s houses mean here and now?

Well, I think it means quite a bit actually. It is true that we are a far more privileged people than what the Jewish exiles were. But we still experience our own sense of exile and if we don’t personally, I guarantee you that others around us do. Look around… there are people out of work and living in economic exile. Sometimes that exile even means moving to a new place that take away all that is familiar just to find work. There are others of us that make moves to accommodate family needs like caring for an aging parent or being near schools that are good for our children. But while these moves are the right thing to do, they uproot us from home and force distance between us and what is familiar. Still others experience emotional and literal exile of being marginalized because of race, class, relationships, age, violent neighborhoods, and so much more. We need only read the headlines of bullying and the sorrow of isolation to know that many are living in exile among us.

This passage offers us a key piece of wisdom in the face of all our life circumstances. Safety and peace are the pathway to the future. Our own homes are at their best when we make a place of peace and safety in which to grow, love, and live. Our neighbor’s homes are at their best when they are safe to be who they were created to be. Our communities are at their best when we know we’ve got each other’s backs.

On this day, it’s Domestic Violence awareness Sunday in the Presbyterian Church and I believe this passage most definitely has a message to us on that subject too. If safety and peace are the pathway to the future, then they are the pathway to the future for us all. It can’t be that only some of us are safe while others are not. That’s the whole thrust of this passage. “For in its welfare you will find your welfare.”

Domestic violence has staggering statistics.

• A woman is beaten every 15 seconds in this country.
• Domestic violence occurs at least once in two-thirds of all marriages.
• 600 people are victims of sexual violence each day in the US. Only 53% are reported to the police. Few are ever prosecuted.
• 40% of teenage girls age know someone their age who has been hit or beaten by a boyfriend.
• More than three million children witness acts of domestic violence each year.

It doesn’t take long to become depressed when we take all this in. And statistically we all know people who are abused or are abusers… maybe even ourselves.

The statistics and the reality are so staggering that it’s hard to get our footing and figure out what to do about it. But this passage offers the key… safety and peace. Our own homes should be safe havens. If our homes currently have violence or relationships that aren’t loving and life filled, there is hope in redemptive love. Reach out for help. Reach to your neighbors. There is help and support. We can journey together and find strength as a community we didn’t know was there before.

If our homes are safe and loving places, make them available to others. Be the listening ear to our friends. Make it safe for our children to come talk with us as well as our children’s friends. We know that the first outcry for help usually comes to friends or to the parents of friends.

And don’t be afraid to do something. The effect of early and loving intervention in people’s lives cannot fully be accounted for. We are called to be in community… their welfare is ours. It is our job to offer support and be a safe haven. It is also our job to report crimes and seek professional intervention. But we are not called to be the saviors of others. We are not the police and therapist to our loved ones. We are their loved ones. But our community is large enough that we have professional organizations to offer help such as domestic violence shelters. If you are ever unsure of what resources are available, reach out to the police department, a pastor, a therapist, or someone else well connected with resources to help.

Sisters and brothers, Jeremiah tells us to “seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.” In making our own homes and relationships safe places for thriving, we find our own welfare. In reaching out to others to help them have a home of safety, they find their welfare. I, you, we… we’re all wrapped up in this together. Whether it’s the emotional exile of depression or the exile of a violent home, we are in this together.

Seek peace. Be a safe harbor for others. And pray and work for the betterment and peace of the community. It was God’s will for the exiles and it’s still God’s will for our lives today. Amen.