How Far Will You Go?
2 Corinthians 4; 1 Samuel 17
Have you met Goliath? Goliath is that immense giant of an obstacle that seems unbeatable and impossible to defeat. Goliath is that one huge problem that just might be your undoing -- a difficulty so great that it has you entertaining the thought that you are close to giving up.
Have you met Goliath? Perhaps you have met him in the past. Or maybe Goliath is troubling you even now. Sooner or later all of us have to face the giant. Maybe it is a giant sickness that threatens life, or a giant wound that festers in a broken heart. Maybe it’s a giant wedge in a relationship that keeps you trapped in lonely silence. Maybe it’s a giant amount of work that stands between you and your dreams, or a giant injustice you have to confront The question is: how do you respond? Are you going to give up the call to live as a person of faith and let Goliath win, or are you going to take a stand?
Have you met Goliath – the enemy who robs your life of hope and joy? 1 Samuel 17 contains some ideas we can use to confront and overcome giants. There can be power in this story if we can let it play out on the backdrop of our imagination. As you listen to the story, imagine Goliath as a symbol of the giants you face.
Setting the Scene
For most of his life, King Saul of Israel had been fighting for every inch of the Promised Land. Even though the land was “Promised,” it did not come easy. Most promised lands are that way - we have to work and struggle for them. Lately, the Philistines had been gaining the upper hand. King Saul grew old and weary and the battles with the Philistines had taken a turn for the worse. The Philistines unveiled their “secret weapon” - a nine foot nine inch giant named Goliath. Every day, this powerful, fearsome gargantuan taunted the Israelites, issuing a challenge that had King Saul’s army cringing behind their shields. There wasn’t a soldier in the camp who wanted to take on Goliath. Fear and despair took hold in the camp and ate away the courage of every soldier. Each day Goliath looked bigger and King Saul’s army felt smaller. On one particular day, Goliath began shouting insults to the soldiers of Israel and he challenged them to a fight. Let’s pick up the story in 1 Samuel 17:8-11.
Goliath stood and bellowed to the ranks of Israel, “Why bother using your whole army? Am I not Philistine enough for you? And you’re all committed to Saul, aren’t you? So pick your best fighter and pit him against me. If he gets the upper hand and kills me, the Philistines will all become your slaves. But if I get the upper hand and kill him, you’ll all become our slaves and serve us. I challenge the troops of Israel this day. Give me a man. Let us fight it out together!” When Saul and his troops heard the Philistine's challenge, they were terrified and lost all hope.
After hearing these threats, an adolescent shepherd boy named David looked around and asked, “Who is this person who is insulting the armies of God?” You see, David wasn’t afraid of the Philistine giant.
King Saul sent for David and this is the conversation they had:
David said to Saul, “Don’t give up hope, King. I’m ready to go and fight this Philistine.” Saul replied, “You can't go and fight this Philistine. You're too young and inexperienced—and he's been at this fighting business since before you were born.” But David said to Saul, “I've been a shepherd, tending sheep for my father. Whenever a lion or bear came and took a lamb from the flock, I'd go after it, knock it down, and rescue the lamb. If it turned on me, I'd grab it by the throat, wring its neck, and kill it. Lion or bear, it made no difference—I killed it. And I'll do the same to this Philistine who is taunting the troops of the Lord. GOD, who delivered me from the teeth of the lion and the claws of the bear, will deliver me from this Philistine.” Saul said to David, “Go, and the LORD be with you” (1 Samuel 17:32-37).
Instead of putting on armor and a sword, David chose to dress casually, carrying only a sling in his hand, with five smooth stones that he collected from the stream. He was ready for war.
Listen to what David said when he confronted Goliath:
“You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the LORD Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the LORD will hand you over to me, and I’ll strike you down. Today I will serve up the carcasses of the Philistine army to the crows and coyotes, and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel. All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the LORD saves; for the battle is the LORD’s, and God will give all of you into our hands” (vs. 45-47).
David took out a stone, and slung it and it struck Goliath on the forehead and killed him. The young, weak boy defeated his Goliath.
FIVE SMOOTH STONES
Goliath is going to stand before you in life. And not just once. When one conflict is over, another will come. Goliath will stand in your way and mock you. I need you to know something. When Goliath stands in your way, GOD will never leave you. When David fought Goliath, he didn’t put his trust in the standard resources of war. David believed that God would defeat Goliath. If David had bought into the standard thinking, he would have been killed.
When we come to those times of confrontation with Goliath, our first line of defense is our relationship with God. We must trust in God’s strength...no matter what others may consider the best way out of our difficulties. No matter what giants we may be facing, our problems can be solved by using the tools God has given us to defeat giants. God gives us five smooth stones.
What are your five smooth stones? What resources has God given you to fight Goliaths? I’ll tell you mine with one reservation. I don’t want you to assume that my resources will work for you. Yours may be different. Or, you might find that these work for you . . .
1. The stone of trust - trust not in my own power, not in the world’s weapons, but in God.
2. The stone of calling. When I get discouraged, I take time to reflect on my call to ministry. God chose me for a special purpose, in this special time and place. No one else gets to define that calling. It comes from God. I was given a distinctive Christian identity in the waters of baptism. God nurtures my identity at the Communion Table, and God continues to direct my steps.
3. The stone of outrageous hope - Emily Dickinson got it right when she wrote that hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all.
4. The stone of courageous confrontation - understanding, studying analyzing discussing debating isn’t enough. There comes a time when courageous action is called for – a decisive moment when we take our stand.
5. The stone of contagious creativity. We are created to be co-creators with God. Being in touch with me creativity helps me come up with ways to face the giants
A PBS program on the Library of Congress some time ago revealed something very interesting about one of our former Presidents. Daniel Boorstin, the Librarian of Congress, brought out a little blue box from a small closet that once held the library’s rarities. The label on the box read: CONTENTS OF THE PRESIDENT’S POCKETS ON THE NIGHT OF APRIL 14, 1865. April 14, 1865 was the night Abraham Lincoln was assassinated. There were five things in the box: A handkerchief, embroidered “A. Lincoln,” a country boy’s pen knife, a spectacles case repaired with string, a purse containing a Confederate $5 bill and some old and worn newspaper clippings
The clippings were concerned with the great deeds of Abraham Lincoln. And one of them actually reports a speech by John Bright proclaiming Abraham Lincoln as “one of the greatest men of all times.” Today that’s a common assumption. It wasn’t common knowledge then. In fact, Lincoln had more than a few critics during that time. He received an overwhelming amount of discouragement and ridicule. Lincoln carried around with him a few clippings from a few people who just happened to believe that he was not a failure.
Here are Lincoln’s five smooth stones. A few clippings in his pocket to remind him of who he was and what he could do. What are your five smooth stones when you face the giants?
God does not leave us to face challenges alone without something to help us. That’s why The Apostle Paul can say what he did in our first scripture reading: We’ve been surrounded and battered by troubles, but we’re not demoralized; we’re not sure what to do, but we know that God knows what to do; we’ve been spiritually terrorized, but God hasn’t left our side; we’ve been thrown down, but we haven’t broken. What they did to Jesus, they do to us—trial and torture, mockery and murder; what Jesus did among them, he does in us—he lives! Our lives are at constant risk for Jesus’ sake, which makes Jesus’ life all the more evident in us. While we’re going through the worst, you’re getting in on the best! We’re not keeping this quiet, not on your life . . . We’re not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without God’s unfolding grace. These hard times are small potatoes compared to the coming good times, the lavish celebration prepared for us. There’s far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can’t see now will last forever (The Message).
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Friday, June 1, 2007
Sermon for Pentecost, 2007
Life in the Spirit
Acts 2:1-21
When Chelsea Cawley sets her tongue on fire, people watch with rapt attention. Holding a small, homemade torch in each hand, the 26-year-old opens her mouth wide and touches the end of one torch lightly to her tongue, blotting it with a coating of fuel. With the torch in the other hand, she sets her tongue ablaze and sticks the flaming appendage out as far as she can. Some people in the audience scream, others cheer her on, but the majority just watch, spellbound, their own mouths hanging open.
Fire is an attractor, a narcotic visual force laden with potent symbolism. Combined with music and motion, it creates a dramatic, mesmerizing vision. Spectators can't take their eyes off those fiery orbs, licking brilliant tongues through the darkness, the intense heat and flame just inches away from scorching human flesh.
When I read this article on the Internet, I thought of the words of the prophet Jeremiah who said “God’s word was in my heart as a burning fire, shut up in my bones and I cannot hold my peace.” I can understand Jeremiah. I understand what happens to you when the Word gets in you; you forget yourself. You cannot hold your peace because God’s word cannot be contained. When God’s word gets in you, you must tell somebody what God has done for you. You must speak it, write it, sing it, hand-sign it, preach it through musical instruments. It is like a flaming fire within our bones that eternally burns and will not let us rest.
Have you ever felt that way – like your tongue was on fire with a message that needed to be shared? “A burning heart will soon find for itself a flaming tongue.”
The first Pentecost was like this. One hundred and twenty people were gathered together in a larger upper room. The disciples were moping around and trying to figure out what they were going to do now that Jesus was gone. All of a sudden, the Holy Spirit came upon them. Scripture says that there were tongues of fire above their heads. There was a wind blowing. In that wind and fire, the Spirit came upon the disciples. They began speaking in different languages so that all who were gathered together heard the message of God’s love in their own language. Some of the other people who were on the outside looked at them and said “ Those folks are all drunk”. The disciples defended themselves, “You know, it’s ten o’clock in the morning. We’re not drunk. This is something different. This is the Holy Spirit.”
Imagine a prairie fire in you mind. Pentecost was like a prairie fire, flaming across the Midwest on parched dry fields of grass. It was like a forest fire being driven by the wind, in a very dry forest with tinder wood. It was like a fire on an oil slick on the ocean, flames leaping across the water. It was like the flame of Jesus Christ was spreading across the whole world.
How did that happen? I know how it happened. “A burning heart will soon find for itself a flaming tongue.”
Those first Apostles who were filled with the Holy Spirit started a church, and then went to a second village or town, and started another church. They went to a third village or town and planted another church. Then they would go back to the first village or town. Do you know why? Every time they started a church, they left a group of people in that village who were committed to Jesus Christ. In the original Greek, they were called the laos, which means “the laity,” “the people,” “the people of God.” The Apostles always left people whose hearts were on fire, whose tongues were on fire, who hadn’t gone to the seminary, who hadn’t seen Jesus face to face, who hadn’t talked with him in the flesh. These were not the Apostles. These were not the twelve disciples. These were the people of God in each town who spread the Gospel from house to house, and neighbor to neighbor and friend to friend and family to family. This fundamental principle is always true; it is the laity, the people of God, who become inspired by the Holy Spirit. They are the ones, not the twelve, not the Apostles, not the pastors. It is the laity, the people of God, who go about winning souls to Jesus Christ and nurturing those souls into maturity.
“A burning heart will soon find for itself a flaming tongue.”
Well, that’s what happened in that first century. The year is now 2007, and the flame of Jesus Christ is still spreading like wildfire. The spreading flame of Pentecost is greater in this century than in the first century. It’s true! The spreading flame of Jesus Christ is greater in this century than in any other century of Christian expansion. Let me give you several examples of this spreading wildfire on our planet today. Today, on the average, how many people on this planet were baptized? 63,000! How many new congregations were formed today? 1600! Last Easter Sunday, how many people were gathered together in worship to celebrate the Resurrection of Christ? More than one billion people. 25% of the Earth’s population.
This flame of Jesus Christ is spreading all over the Earth like wildfire. Let’s talk about Africa. Africa is rapidly becoming a Christian continent. Namibia, for example, down in the southern tip of Africa; 50% of the people in Namibia are Lutheran Christians. 85% of black Namibia is Christian. That’s 20% “more Christian” than good old USA. Tanzania. Madagascar. These are Christian nations. The flame of Jesus Christ is spreading all across Africa. Every pastor and missionary knows this. Whenever the flame of Jesus Christ is spreading across village to village and town to town and city to city, across all of Africa, we know why: The laity always spark the great missionary expansions in every century. “A burning heart will soon find for itself a flaming tongue.”
Let’s go to South America – to Sao Paulo, Brazil. It is one of the largest cities in the world, at around 10.5 million people. That great city is heavily Roman Catholic, and the Roman Catholic community is very much alive. In Sao Paulo, Brazil, there are more than 80,000 Base Christian Communities. Each community is like a home Bible study group. Can you imagine it? In one city there are 80,000 home Bible studies groups. Do you think there’s a pastor in any of them? No! Each has a layperson who leads the Bible study and organizes of each of these 80,000 Base Christian Communities. It is a movement led by the laity. It’s spreading like wildfire. “A burning heart will soon find for itself a flaming tongue.”
Let’s go to another continent. Let’s go to Korea. A generation ago, Korean was 99% Buddhist. Today, 2007, it is 20% Christian...within one century! And the largest Christian congregation in the whole world is found in Seoul, Korea, with a membership of more than 500,000 members. This church didn’t begin as a missionary church from a mother denomination. It was founded and spread Korean lay people. The flame of Korean Christianity now spreads to Indonesia, and the Philippines. The Koreans are even sending missionaries to Japan. “A burning heart will soon find for itself a flaming tongue.”
Let’s talk about the good old United States. No, let’s talk the Town of Trumbull where we live, work and do ministry. Trumbull has a population growth rate of about 3.3%. The rate has been consistent over the past decade. You know how many members we gain in our church each year over the past decade? We don’t gain any. We lose about 6-8%. This is happening all over the United States. The proportion of the American population that can be classified as Christian has declined from 86% to 77% in one decade. The truth is that the mainline protestant churches have been on a steady decline from their high-water mark in 1955. Can it be possible that the laity is no longer on fire by the power of Jesus Christ? Is it possible for a church to gradually become a self-contained unit that has lost all sense of spiritual fire?
The big question for our congregation is this: Do we all understand, not only with our heads but with our hearts -- do we truly understand, that for us to be the church in the town of Trumbull, that “A burning heart will soon find for itself a flaming tongue.”
Welcome to Pentecost in the Year 2007! It’s time to open up to the mind‑blowing, heart‑ warming, life‑changing power of God.
The power of God can invade the body,
inflate the mind,
swell the soul,
lift the Spirit
and make us more than we ever imagined.
It'll make you young when you're old,
and it'll make you live even when you die.
The power and presence of the Spirit will disturb, delight, deliver and lift.
When God sends forth the Spirit amazing things happen:
barriers are broken,
communities are formed,
opposites are reconciled,
unity is established,
disease is cured,
addiction is broken,
towns are renewed,
races are reconciled,
hope is established,
people are blessed,
and church happens.
So be ready...God is up to something...
discouraged folks are cheering up,
dishonest folks are 'fessing up,
sour folks are sweetening up,
closed folk are opening up,
gossipers clam up,
conflicted folks make up,
sleeping folks wake up,
lukewarm folk, fire up,
dry bones shake up,
and pew potatoes stand up!
But most of all, Christ the Savior of all the world is lifted up.[1]
The Holy Spirit wants to ignite us to proclaim the gospel, to worship with awe, to serve the world with the passion of Jesus. Don’t miss out on what God wants to do in your life, because the Spirit is moving. So how about it? “A burning heart will soon find for itself a flaming tongue.”
[1]Rick Kirchoff, Germantown United Methodist Church, Opening remarks to the 2000 Memphis Annual Conference.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Sermon for May 20
The Limits of My Love
Luke 10:27-35 (Romans 7:14-25)
I would like to tell you something about me. It’s somewhat embarrassing, but I might as well be up front with you right from the beginning. It’s a sickness, really. And as much as I hate it, I can’t do anything to cure it. I begin to feel the pains of it about five minutes after I wake up – if it’s a good day. The malady affects me throughout the entire day. Occasionally it even bothers me in my sleep. Sometimes I barely notice it. At other times, I can ignore it. Most of the time, though, I just feel numb from it. It seems like the harder I try to fix it, the worse it becomes. Well . . . enough stalling. What you need to know about me is that I am a sinner.
I’m sharing this news because I have a wild hunch that I am not the only one suffering from this condition. In fact, I’m going to take a leap and guess that some of you here today might also be fellow sinners. It’s nothing we’re proud of – we’re not bragging about it. I just want you to be aware that there are some sinners sitting with you in your pews today. I don’t think they’ll hurt you or anything. In fact, most prefer just to keep their sins to themselves.
If you are a sinner like me, by the way, you are in good company. The Apostle Paul described our condition perfectly. He was one of us. He says that it all begins when we try to do good by following our interpretation of the Bible to the letter. We make a list of all the things we should and should not do so that God will be pleased with us. And then we begin our day checking the items off. “OK, God, today is a new day. I am not going to lie, and I’m not going to swear and drink – at least not too much. I’m going to eat well and exercise, and find some volunteer service to do. I’ll return my overdue library books, and I won’t yell at my kids when they drive me crazy. Today is the day I act like an angel.” Then what happens? I go to make breakfast and the kids start arguing, the dogs stand at the window and hysterically bark at something ridiculous like a blowing leaf; then my wife and I realize that we double-booked some events on the calendar and since we can’t be two places at once we nave to negotiate whose event is most important; and the overdue library books are lost. Welcome to the first 20 minutes of the day. This is the point where I do something I’ll regret later. So, I’ve decided to behave one way but then I do something completely different. I am resolved to do good and follow God, but I keep messing it up.
I think the lawyer in today’s Gospel reading might know what I’m talking about. If anyone knows what God expects, it is this man. In the days before printing presses, he’s one of the people who copies Scripture by hand. Unlike the general population at the time, he can read and write and he’s familiar with every detail of the Hebrew Scriptures. He’s a scholar and a teacher –an esteemed authority in the interpretation and application of the law.
One day this expert in religious law approaches Jesus – he’s actually trying to test Jesus. Scripture says he wants to justify himself. He wants Jesus to know that his knowledge about religious law is enough to make him acceptable to God.
So he says, “Jesus, what do you think I need to do to have eternal life?” Jesus says, “You are the expert in the law. You tell me.” The lawyer responds with a good answer. He quotes Scripture -- love God and love your neighbor. But, don’t be fooled into thinking that the Lawyer has a moment of insight here. Almost every Jew could summarize the law exactly as the lawyer has. You could have stopped anyone on the streets of Israel and asked the same exact question and you would have gotten the same answer. The Lawyer regurgitates information that he’s known since childhood, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength; and your neighbor as yourself.” It’s a good answer. He should have shut up right there. But he doesn’t. He looks for a loophole. He asks, “Who is my neighbor?” In other words, “OK, Jesus, I understand I’m supposed to care, but what are the limits of my caring?”
That sounds so much like me, sometimes! I want to know the minimal requirement. Tell me what the rules are, and I will make sure to meet all the requirements but nothing more. If I can’t meet the minimum standard, then I will try to redefine it in order to arrive at an even lower standard that is more achievable. For instance, God says to love the Lord with all of my heart, soul, mind, and strength. I know I can’t love God perfectly, so I reinterpret the command to mean that I’ll love God to the best of my ability. God invites me to love my neighbor, but I know there are some people who really annoy me. So I reinterpret the command to mean that I love everybody, but I don’t have to like them. I can see what the law-expert is up to. He’s trying to define the limits of love. He wants to make a list of his neighbors so he can respect those people and ignore everyone else. He’s really asking Jesus, “Who can I serve, and who can I bypass? What’s the least I can do to still be considered a good person?”
Jesus knows something that religious experts don’t. Jesus knows the difference between heart religion and works religion. It’s the difference between faith based on being and faith based on doing. Works religion wants to put a box around what God expects of us. Works religion says, “God requires this much of me – no more and no less. If I do these things I’ve satisfied my obligation to God.” It’s concerned not with the needs of others but with meeting my quota of good deeds.
Jesus says to the lawyer, “If you think you can get eternal life by fulfilling love’s minimum requirement, go for it. If you can keep the law perfectly then do it and you will live.” Then Jesus blows apart the lawyer’s narrow vision of love by telling a story of a traveler on the treacherous stretch of road between Jerusalem and Jericho. Stripped, clobbered, and left for dead, he is a random victim in a randomly violent world. Then, who comes along but a priest. If anyone could be expected to stop and help, it would be a priest. But wait. The priest is not only not coming over to help; he’s passing by on the other side of the road. No reason’s given. Some suggest that, as a priest, he feared being defiled by a corpse, but the truth is if a priest on a journey found a corpse, he had a duty to bury it. Perhaps it was fear. Those who beat the man in the ditch might be lying in wait to beat him as well. Perhaps it was simple revulsion. Have you ever come upon someone after a bloody accident? It’s ugly. Whatever the reason, he passed by on the other side. Some hero!
No matter. Here comes a Levite...an “assistant” priest. Maybe he will come through with some help. The text says he came to the place and saw the bloodied Israelite, and he too passed by on the other side.
Enter character number three - a Samaritan. The GOOD Samaritan! Nowhere else in the Bible do we find the words “Good” and “Samaritan” next to each other. For the people who first heard this story, the phrase “Good Samaritan” would have been an oxymoron - the only GOOD Samaritan would have been a DEAD Samaritan. No hero here. The hostility between Jews and Samaritans was hundreds of years old. Samaritans were seen as half-breeds who had perverted the Jewish race and profaned the true religion. The hatred toward Samaritans was so great that some Jews would go miles out of their way to avoid walking on Samaritan soil.
So, a Samaritan sees the Israelite, but instead of distancing himself, he comes closer. He’s moved with pity. The Samaritan bandages the man’s wounds. He brings the Israelite to an inn and makes sure that all of the expenses are paid in full. End of story. Jesus responds to the lawyer’s question about the limits of love with a fable and then he turns the question back to the lawyer: “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” The lawyer answers, “The one who showed him mercy.” The concept of a GOOD Samaritan is so distasteful that the lawyer can’t bring himself to even speak the name.
And what does Jesus say? “Go, and do likewise.” Jesus calls him towards heart religion. It is different than works religion. In heart religion, entrance into the kingdom isn’t granted because of what we do and don’t do. In heart religion, a relationship with God is not claimed. God gives it to us. God exposes my inability, cleans me up, and gives a new chance to live the values of the Kingdom – not because of what I’ve done, but because of God’s love for me. I still make bad decisions, but I’m no longer bound to the brutal tyranny of trying to always do good in order to make God smile.
What have you been doing to justify yourself before God? What is it that might be keeping you from accepting the fact that God’s love for you and everyone else is flooding over us at this very moment? What is going on in your life that tempts you to want to limit your experience of God’s grace?
· Some people will justify their behavior by bargaining with God. How many times have we said, “God, if you only do this one thing for me, I promise to be a good person” -- as if God could be manipulated by a promise of good behavior that we will never be able to keep?
· Others will justify their behavior by counting the cost. We are afraid that when Jesus ups the ante, the new requirement will be too hard and too costly. So we decide to stick to our plan. We like to figure out in advance how much we have to give up – how much our mercy is going to cost. But real love isn’t planned out like a trip itinerary or a balanced budget. Real love isn’t downsized when the costs creep too high.
There’s another option. It’s the model of the Good Samaritan. The Good Samaritan isn’t concerned with what is required or what is proper. The Good Samaritan isn’t thinking about meeting obligations. The Samaritan focuses on the injured person. And believe me, there are plenty of injured people around us – men and women with deep wounds and desperate needs; friends, acquaintances, and even enemies who suffer more than they let on. Jesus says that it would be better if there were more people who showed love without limits . . . if only there were more people who would think of the sufferer instead of the rules.
By the end of Jesus’ story, we learn something that is critically important to our faith journeys. The kingdom of God belongs to those who admit their weaknesses.
· It belongs to the sinners.
· To the small.
· To the broken and the imperfect.
· To the lost and the last.
· To those who have come to realize that all of our self-righteous behavior was really keeping us from loving God and loving our neighbor.
The kingdom is for those who, admitting their inability to make themselves right with God, have put their faith in Christ. It’s for those who wake up in the morning and know that we will mess it up, but who also appreciate new chances to practice unbridled, limitless love.
Luke 10:27-35 (Romans 7:14-25)
I would like to tell you something about me. It’s somewhat embarrassing, but I might as well be up front with you right from the beginning. It’s a sickness, really. And as much as I hate it, I can’t do anything to cure it. I begin to feel the pains of it about five minutes after I wake up – if it’s a good day. The malady affects me throughout the entire day. Occasionally it even bothers me in my sleep. Sometimes I barely notice it. At other times, I can ignore it. Most of the time, though, I just feel numb from it. It seems like the harder I try to fix it, the worse it becomes. Well . . . enough stalling. What you need to know about me is that I am a sinner.
I’m sharing this news because I have a wild hunch that I am not the only one suffering from this condition. In fact, I’m going to take a leap and guess that some of you here today might also be fellow sinners. It’s nothing we’re proud of – we’re not bragging about it. I just want you to be aware that there are some sinners sitting with you in your pews today. I don’t think they’ll hurt you or anything. In fact, most prefer just to keep their sins to themselves.
If you are a sinner like me, by the way, you are in good company. The Apostle Paul described our condition perfectly. He was one of us. He says that it all begins when we try to do good by following our interpretation of the Bible to the letter. We make a list of all the things we should and should not do so that God will be pleased with us. And then we begin our day checking the items off. “OK, God, today is a new day. I am not going to lie, and I’m not going to swear and drink – at least not too much. I’m going to eat well and exercise, and find some volunteer service to do. I’ll return my overdue library books, and I won’t yell at my kids when they drive me crazy. Today is the day I act like an angel.” Then what happens? I go to make breakfast and the kids start arguing, the dogs stand at the window and hysterically bark at something ridiculous like a blowing leaf; then my wife and I realize that we double-booked some events on the calendar and since we can’t be two places at once we nave to negotiate whose event is most important; and the overdue library books are lost. Welcome to the first 20 minutes of the day. This is the point where I do something I’ll regret later. So, I’ve decided to behave one way but then I do something completely different. I am resolved to do good and follow God, but I keep messing it up.
I think the lawyer in today’s Gospel reading might know what I’m talking about. If anyone knows what God expects, it is this man. In the days before printing presses, he’s one of the people who copies Scripture by hand. Unlike the general population at the time, he can read and write and he’s familiar with every detail of the Hebrew Scriptures. He’s a scholar and a teacher –an esteemed authority in the interpretation and application of the law.
One day this expert in religious law approaches Jesus – he’s actually trying to test Jesus. Scripture says he wants to justify himself. He wants Jesus to know that his knowledge about religious law is enough to make him acceptable to God.
So he says, “Jesus, what do you think I need to do to have eternal life?” Jesus says, “You are the expert in the law. You tell me.” The lawyer responds with a good answer. He quotes Scripture -- love God and love your neighbor. But, don’t be fooled into thinking that the Lawyer has a moment of insight here. Almost every Jew could summarize the law exactly as the lawyer has. You could have stopped anyone on the streets of Israel and asked the same exact question and you would have gotten the same answer. The Lawyer regurgitates information that he’s known since childhood, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength; and your neighbor as yourself.” It’s a good answer. He should have shut up right there. But he doesn’t. He looks for a loophole. He asks, “Who is my neighbor?” In other words, “OK, Jesus, I understand I’m supposed to care, but what are the limits of my caring?”
That sounds so much like me, sometimes! I want to know the minimal requirement. Tell me what the rules are, and I will make sure to meet all the requirements but nothing more. If I can’t meet the minimum standard, then I will try to redefine it in order to arrive at an even lower standard that is more achievable. For instance, God says to love the Lord with all of my heart, soul, mind, and strength. I know I can’t love God perfectly, so I reinterpret the command to mean that I’ll love God to the best of my ability. God invites me to love my neighbor, but I know there are some people who really annoy me. So I reinterpret the command to mean that I love everybody, but I don’t have to like them. I can see what the law-expert is up to. He’s trying to define the limits of love. He wants to make a list of his neighbors so he can respect those people and ignore everyone else. He’s really asking Jesus, “Who can I serve, and who can I bypass? What’s the least I can do to still be considered a good person?”
Jesus knows something that religious experts don’t. Jesus knows the difference between heart religion and works religion. It’s the difference between faith based on being and faith based on doing. Works religion wants to put a box around what God expects of us. Works religion says, “God requires this much of me – no more and no less. If I do these things I’ve satisfied my obligation to God.” It’s concerned not with the needs of others but with meeting my quota of good deeds.
Jesus says to the lawyer, “If you think you can get eternal life by fulfilling love’s minimum requirement, go for it. If you can keep the law perfectly then do it and you will live.” Then Jesus blows apart the lawyer’s narrow vision of love by telling a story of a traveler on the treacherous stretch of road between Jerusalem and Jericho. Stripped, clobbered, and left for dead, he is a random victim in a randomly violent world. Then, who comes along but a priest. If anyone could be expected to stop and help, it would be a priest. But wait. The priest is not only not coming over to help; he’s passing by on the other side of the road. No reason’s given. Some suggest that, as a priest, he feared being defiled by a corpse, but the truth is if a priest on a journey found a corpse, he had a duty to bury it. Perhaps it was fear. Those who beat the man in the ditch might be lying in wait to beat him as well. Perhaps it was simple revulsion. Have you ever come upon someone after a bloody accident? It’s ugly. Whatever the reason, he passed by on the other side. Some hero!
No matter. Here comes a Levite...an “assistant” priest. Maybe he will come through with some help. The text says he came to the place and saw the bloodied Israelite, and he too passed by on the other side.
Enter character number three - a Samaritan. The GOOD Samaritan! Nowhere else in the Bible do we find the words “Good” and “Samaritan” next to each other. For the people who first heard this story, the phrase “Good Samaritan” would have been an oxymoron - the only GOOD Samaritan would have been a DEAD Samaritan. No hero here. The hostility between Jews and Samaritans was hundreds of years old. Samaritans were seen as half-breeds who had perverted the Jewish race and profaned the true religion. The hatred toward Samaritans was so great that some Jews would go miles out of their way to avoid walking on Samaritan soil.
So, a Samaritan sees the Israelite, but instead of distancing himself, he comes closer. He’s moved with pity. The Samaritan bandages the man’s wounds. He brings the Israelite to an inn and makes sure that all of the expenses are paid in full. End of story. Jesus responds to the lawyer’s question about the limits of love with a fable and then he turns the question back to the lawyer: “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” The lawyer answers, “The one who showed him mercy.” The concept of a GOOD Samaritan is so distasteful that the lawyer can’t bring himself to even speak the name.
And what does Jesus say? “Go, and do likewise.” Jesus calls him towards heart religion. It is different than works religion. In heart religion, entrance into the kingdom isn’t granted because of what we do and don’t do. In heart religion, a relationship with God is not claimed. God gives it to us. God exposes my inability, cleans me up, and gives a new chance to live the values of the Kingdom – not because of what I’ve done, but because of God’s love for me. I still make bad decisions, but I’m no longer bound to the brutal tyranny of trying to always do good in order to make God smile.
What have you been doing to justify yourself before God? What is it that might be keeping you from accepting the fact that God’s love for you and everyone else is flooding over us at this very moment? What is going on in your life that tempts you to want to limit your experience of God’s grace?
· Some people will justify their behavior by bargaining with God. How many times have we said, “God, if you only do this one thing for me, I promise to be a good person” -- as if God could be manipulated by a promise of good behavior that we will never be able to keep?
· Others will justify their behavior by counting the cost. We are afraid that when Jesus ups the ante, the new requirement will be too hard and too costly. So we decide to stick to our plan. We like to figure out in advance how much we have to give up – how much our mercy is going to cost. But real love isn’t planned out like a trip itinerary or a balanced budget. Real love isn’t downsized when the costs creep too high.
There’s another option. It’s the model of the Good Samaritan. The Good Samaritan isn’t concerned with what is required or what is proper. The Good Samaritan isn’t thinking about meeting obligations. The Samaritan focuses on the injured person. And believe me, there are plenty of injured people around us – men and women with deep wounds and desperate needs; friends, acquaintances, and even enemies who suffer more than they let on. Jesus says that it would be better if there were more people who showed love without limits . . . if only there were more people who would think of the sufferer instead of the rules.
By the end of Jesus’ story, we learn something that is critically important to our faith journeys. The kingdom of God belongs to those who admit their weaknesses.
· It belongs to the sinners.
· To the small.
· To the broken and the imperfect.
· To the lost and the last.
· To those who have come to realize that all of our self-righteous behavior was really keeping us from loving God and loving our neighbor.
The kingdom is for those who, admitting their inability to make themselves right with God, have put their faith in Christ. It’s for those who wake up in the morning and know that we will mess it up, but who also appreciate new chances to practice unbridled, limitless love.
Sermon for Sunday May 15
The Patience of a Great God
1 Timothy 1:12-18
Every day brings us an array of things that try our patience. Mom’s, you know what I’m talking about. You buy something that needs to be assembled and the instructions don’t make sense. You toss 16 socks into a clothes dryer and you get only 15 back. Junior Highers. How about all those people who annoy us? Pokey drivers in front of you when you are in a hurry. People who let their dogs bark all night. Or the person ahead of us in the 15-item express line at the supermarket who puts 19 items on the belt, chats with an incredibly slow checkout clerk, fishes for a checkbook only after everything has been rung up, and then wants to review the bill. Strangers try our patience in lots of little ways, but they’re no match for members of our own family. The prime cases of annoyance are domestic. “When two humans have lived together for a while,” says C. S. Lewis, “it usually happens that each has facial expressions and tones of voice that are almost unendurable to the other.” I think we understand. It’s not that your family member does anything wrong, exactly. It’s just that once in a while she lifts her eyebrows in a certain way that drives you nuts. It’s just that he whines even when he’s not complaining.
How about those people who do the same annoying thing over and over again. They know it bothers you. They might even ask your forgiveness. But they just keep making the same mistakes.
But wait a minute. That describes all of us, doesn’t it – doing the same things over and over and over again . . . making the same mistakes all the time. Do you ever wonder if God gets tired of us–if God ever loses patience? Here is God, patiently trying to correct our behavior and help us grow up into the people we were created to be – and here we are, going our own ways, doing our own things, messing up, asking forgiveness, and then repeating the same old sins. In my own life, I rarely need to invent new sins. I just keep repeating the same old sins. At times I feel clumsy and foolish and useless. And at times I convince myself that there’s no way God could possibly forgive me again for the same things for which I’ve already asked forgiveness -- that just doesn’t make sense. I mean, eventually God has got to lose patience with me and just go ahead and give me a good whack upside the head. Right?
The Apostle Paul says no -- that’s not the case. God has unlimited patience. And no matter how many times we blow it, if we seek God’s forgiveness, God promises to forgive us again, and again, and again -- it’s unlimited.
Now let’s be clear. I’m not saying that God doesn’t take our sin seriously. Sin is deadly serious. And I am not saying that God doesn’t have standards. God clearly calls us to live lives that conform to the values of the Kingdom. There are real consequences in our lives when we disobey the standards that God has set in place. Our sin matters to God and brings pain and brokenness to our lives. But our sins, no matter how often repeated, can never come between us and the forgiveness offered in Jesus Christ -- because God has unlimited patience for you and for me.
Maybe you think your sin is too great for God to forgive. Paul certainly could have thought that. Listen to how he describes himself, a blasphemer, a persecutor -- a violent man. And then, just to make sure you understand just what a really lousy person he is, he calls himself the “worst of sinners.”
I bet you could come up with a list of sins in your own mind.
· You’ve let emotions like anger or selfishness or a judgmental spirit enter into your relationships.
· Or, you’re trapped in a cycle of addiction that you can’t seem to overcome and you feel like a failure.
· Or, you’re involved in a relationship that you know is destructive to you and your family.
· Or, you’ve taken some shortcuts at work or at home that you know aren’t ethical.
· Or, you’ve drifted away from God and you really don’t have a whole lot of desire to find your way back.
You’ve got your list, I have mine. Maybe you are thinking, “Worst of sinners? -- yeah, I know something about being the worst of sinners, and there is just no way God could possibly forgive the worst of sinners. There is no way God could ever forgive me for the things I’ve done.”
Notice Paul doesn’t say I “was” the worst of sinners. He says, “I AM” the worst of sinners, -- present tense. I am the worst of sinners, but here’s the good news -- that’s why Jesus Christ came into the world. Jesus Christ came to save sinners like Paul and sinners like you and sinners like me. And there is no sin that you or I could possibly commit that would be so great that it would exceed God’s unlimited patience and capacity to forgive.
There are some of us who have trouble with this idea of God’s unlimited patience because we think that God’s capacity to forgive is too small. And maybe we do that because we compare God’s capacity to offer forgiveness with our own ... and again, that’s just wrong thinking. God isn’t reluctant to forgive us -- God delights in forgiving us. God forgives all our sins, no matter how little and no matter how big.
Despite our mistakes, despite our pride and self-sufficiency, despite the times we turn away from God -- our sins aren’t too big for God to handle. God doesn’t put conditions on forgiveness. When we make the same mistakes over and over again, it doesn’t max out God’s patience.
And so Paul writes to Timothy:
I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display His unlimited patience as an example for those who would believe on Him and receive eternal life. (1 Timothy 1: 16)
And here is where the story comes home to you and to me. It’s as if Paul is saying:
If you don’t believe anything else, believe this: Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners. I’m proof -- Public Sinner Number One. I never could have made it apart from the love and grace of Jesus. And now God shows me off -- as evidence of endless patience. I am an example for those who are right on the edge of trusting God forever.
And maybe that describes some of us here today. Maybe we are right on the edge of trusting Jesus Christ forever and all we need to do is receive the grace and forgiveness that He freely offers.
Some of us are sitting here today and we know that we really are the worst of sinners ... and maybe we believe our sins to be too big or God’s forgiveness too small -- and we’ve never received the unlimited gift of love He offers. God’s gift is ours. We only need to turn to God and accept it. I don’t know what you’ve brought here with you today -- what sins are on your list or on your mind and heart. But I do know this: Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners. And so let me invite you, as we close in prayer, to take a few moments of silence, and in those moments, I invite you to come to God -- to turn to Jesus Christ and lay all your failures and all your mistakes and all your sins before Him. God really does have unlimited patience. God delights in pouring out love and grace and forgiveness on the worst of sinners -- like you and like me.
1 Timothy 1:12-18
Every day brings us an array of things that try our patience. Mom’s, you know what I’m talking about. You buy something that needs to be assembled and the instructions don’t make sense. You toss 16 socks into a clothes dryer and you get only 15 back. Junior Highers. How about all those people who annoy us? Pokey drivers in front of you when you are in a hurry. People who let their dogs bark all night. Or the person ahead of us in the 15-item express line at the supermarket who puts 19 items on the belt, chats with an incredibly slow checkout clerk, fishes for a checkbook only after everything has been rung up, and then wants to review the bill. Strangers try our patience in lots of little ways, but they’re no match for members of our own family. The prime cases of annoyance are domestic. “When two humans have lived together for a while,” says C. S. Lewis, “it usually happens that each has facial expressions and tones of voice that are almost unendurable to the other.” I think we understand. It’s not that your family member does anything wrong, exactly. It’s just that once in a while she lifts her eyebrows in a certain way that drives you nuts. It’s just that he whines even when he’s not complaining.
How about those people who do the same annoying thing over and over again. They know it bothers you. They might even ask your forgiveness. But they just keep making the same mistakes.
But wait a minute. That describes all of us, doesn’t it – doing the same things over and over and over again . . . making the same mistakes all the time. Do you ever wonder if God gets tired of us–if God ever loses patience? Here is God, patiently trying to correct our behavior and help us grow up into the people we were created to be – and here we are, going our own ways, doing our own things, messing up, asking forgiveness, and then repeating the same old sins. In my own life, I rarely need to invent new sins. I just keep repeating the same old sins. At times I feel clumsy and foolish and useless. And at times I convince myself that there’s no way God could possibly forgive me again for the same things for which I’ve already asked forgiveness -- that just doesn’t make sense. I mean, eventually God has got to lose patience with me and just go ahead and give me a good whack upside the head. Right?
The Apostle Paul says no -- that’s not the case. God has unlimited patience. And no matter how many times we blow it, if we seek God’s forgiveness, God promises to forgive us again, and again, and again -- it’s unlimited.
Now let’s be clear. I’m not saying that God doesn’t take our sin seriously. Sin is deadly serious. And I am not saying that God doesn’t have standards. God clearly calls us to live lives that conform to the values of the Kingdom. There are real consequences in our lives when we disobey the standards that God has set in place. Our sin matters to God and brings pain and brokenness to our lives. But our sins, no matter how often repeated, can never come between us and the forgiveness offered in Jesus Christ -- because God has unlimited patience for you and for me.
Maybe you think your sin is too great for God to forgive. Paul certainly could have thought that. Listen to how he describes himself, a blasphemer, a persecutor -- a violent man. And then, just to make sure you understand just what a really lousy person he is, he calls himself the “worst of sinners.”
I bet you could come up with a list of sins in your own mind.
· You’ve let emotions like anger or selfishness or a judgmental spirit enter into your relationships.
· Or, you’re trapped in a cycle of addiction that you can’t seem to overcome and you feel like a failure.
· Or, you’re involved in a relationship that you know is destructive to you and your family.
· Or, you’ve taken some shortcuts at work or at home that you know aren’t ethical.
· Or, you’ve drifted away from God and you really don’t have a whole lot of desire to find your way back.
You’ve got your list, I have mine. Maybe you are thinking, “Worst of sinners? -- yeah, I know something about being the worst of sinners, and there is just no way God could possibly forgive the worst of sinners. There is no way God could ever forgive me for the things I’ve done.”
Notice Paul doesn’t say I “was” the worst of sinners. He says, “I AM” the worst of sinners, -- present tense. I am the worst of sinners, but here’s the good news -- that’s why Jesus Christ came into the world. Jesus Christ came to save sinners like Paul and sinners like you and sinners like me. And there is no sin that you or I could possibly commit that would be so great that it would exceed God’s unlimited patience and capacity to forgive.
There are some of us who have trouble with this idea of God’s unlimited patience because we think that God’s capacity to forgive is too small. And maybe we do that because we compare God’s capacity to offer forgiveness with our own ... and again, that’s just wrong thinking. God isn’t reluctant to forgive us -- God delights in forgiving us. God forgives all our sins, no matter how little and no matter how big.
Despite our mistakes, despite our pride and self-sufficiency, despite the times we turn away from God -- our sins aren’t too big for God to handle. God doesn’t put conditions on forgiveness. When we make the same mistakes over and over again, it doesn’t max out God’s patience.
And so Paul writes to Timothy:
I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display His unlimited patience as an example for those who would believe on Him and receive eternal life. (1 Timothy 1: 16)
And here is where the story comes home to you and to me. It’s as if Paul is saying:
If you don’t believe anything else, believe this: Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners. I’m proof -- Public Sinner Number One. I never could have made it apart from the love and grace of Jesus. And now God shows me off -- as evidence of endless patience. I am an example for those who are right on the edge of trusting God forever.
And maybe that describes some of us here today. Maybe we are right on the edge of trusting Jesus Christ forever and all we need to do is receive the grace and forgiveness that He freely offers.
Some of us are sitting here today and we know that we really are the worst of sinners ... and maybe we believe our sins to be too big or God’s forgiveness too small -- and we’ve never received the unlimited gift of love He offers. God’s gift is ours. We only need to turn to God and accept it. I don’t know what you’ve brought here with you today -- what sins are on your list or on your mind and heart. But I do know this: Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners. And so let me invite you, as we close in prayer, to take a few moments of silence, and in those moments, I invite you to come to God -- to turn to Jesus Christ and lay all your failures and all your mistakes and all your sins before Him. God really does have unlimited patience. God delights in pouring out love and grace and forgiveness on the worst of sinners -- like you and like me.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Sermon for April 6, 2007
What is Perfection?
Matthew 5:48; 2 Corinthians 12:1-10
A few years ago, there was a full-page ad in USA Today sponsored by the sportswear company FILA. It featured NBA All-star, Grant Hill. There was a picture of Hill, and then it was surrounded by copy that stated: “This year Grant Hill led his team in scoring, rebounding, assists, and steals, led his team back into the playoffs, and led the league in triple doubles.” The ad continued by saying that Hill, “didn’t punch an official; didn’t demand a contract extension; didn’t dump his high school friends; listened to his mother; made his bed daily.” Moreover, he “promised to take shorter showers in an effort to conserve water; didn’t hurt a fly; chose paper over plastic; rewound tapes before returning them; put coins into other people’s parking meters.” In addition, Hill “kept his thermostat at 68; practiced what he preached; actually paid attention to the flight attendant’s instructions; donated a kidney; and vowed to do better next year.” According to this ad, Grant Hill was perfect
I suspect that, if we were totally honest, most of us would have to admit that we have a desire to look that good to others. We want people to think we’ve got our lives together—that we’re successful, that our kids are the best and our relationships ideal. We want others to think that we’re on top of our game, and that we would never make an error in judgment. If we were totally honest, many of us would have to admit that we have a driving desire to be perfect.
Perfection is defined in the dictionary as having no flaws or shortcomings; complete excellence. Kind of scary, isn’t it? Perfection is one of the most important characteristics of our culture. While we strive to make our lives look flawless, we also fall short of some sort of imaginary and unattainable standard. At one time, Martha Stewart might have been seen as the high priestess of perfection: one dare not let the mask slip, even in one’s home, where all is perfect, right down the last hand-stenciled napkin ring. Of course, now we know that even Martha Stewart can make mistakes. As hard as we might try to convince other people that we have the perfect life, something usually happens that trips us up.
Even so, many of us keep at it, and I think we do that because we’re searching for something. We want approval and love, and we get to the point of believing that the only way we can earn that love is by being perfect and never, ever, making a mistake or falling short. Rachel Remen, in her book Kitchen Table Wisdom, talks about this very thing. In fact, she goes so far as to admit that she is a recovering perfectionist. Remen is a physician who was trained by her father in the art of being perfect long before she entered medical school. She wrote, “As a child, when I brought home a 98 on an exam, he invariably responded, ‘What happened to the other two points?” ’
I read a story about the National Spelling Bee contest where the best school-aged spellers come to compete. The article said that the organizers of the event have had to set up a “comfort room” for contestants after they misspell a word. There they can go to cry in private and vent their frustration on a punching bag, and it helps them cope with the feelings of shame and the sense of failure that come with having gotten one word wrong after having spelled hundreds of words correctly.
The truth is that expecting ourselves or others to be flawless can lead to a miserable existence. Sometimes we create incredible stress in our lives when we try so hard to prove that we’re perfect people. We live in constant fear of messing up or being humiliated or embarrassed when we fail or make a mistake. Striving to present the perfect picture can lead to deadly results. I read a story about Countess Marie of Coventry who reportedly died of lead poisoning from all the make-up she wore in an attempt to portray the perfect look.
Actress Michelle Pfeiffer appeared on the cover of a magazine with the caption “What Michele Pfeiffer Needs Is -- Absolutely Nothing!” It was later discovered by a reporter, however, that Michelle Pfeiffer did need something after all. She needed more than $1,500 worth of touch-up work on that cover photo. From the touch-up artist’s bill, here is a partial list of things that were done to make Michelle Pfeiffer look beautiful: Clean up complexion, soften eye lines, soften smile line, add color to lips, trim chin, remove neck lines, soften line under earlobe, add highlights to earrings, add blush to cheek, clean up neckline, remove stray hair, remove hair strands on dress, adjust color and add hair on top of head, add dress on side to create better line, add forehead, add dress on shoulder, soften neck muscle a bit, clean up and smooth dress folds under arm, and create one seam on image on right side. Total price: $1,525.00
Perfection is costly–even disastrous sometimes.
The way in which we interpret God’s Word doesn’t help our situation, either. What do we do with a passage when Jesus tells us to be perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect? When God gives the divine mandate for us to be perfect, isn’t that just adding to our neurotic quest to reach the unattainable grail of flawlessness? Are we called to be perfect, like God, but simultaneously damned to always fall short of the goal? Does God really expect us to never fall short of perfection? Or, is it possible that we have a skewed reading of this text?
In Matthew 5:48 the word translated “perfection” is the Greek word telios. It actually means “whole or complete.” That which is telios fully realizes the purpose for which it is designed. A person is perfect when he or she realizes the purpose for which we are created and sent into the world.
So, in fact, it is not as much a scary word as it is a scary translation. “Perfection” does not mean to set forth an impossible goal, or that which must be attained at any cost. We get our English word “perfection” from a Latin word meaning complete, entire, full-grown. To be perfect, in the sense that Jesus means it, is to make room for growth, to allow for the changes that bring us into maturity.
Perfection, as our culture defines it, is simply not a part of the human condition, and it’s not intended to be. Being human by its very nature means that we are imperfect flawed creatures. But that’s not a bad thing. I believe this is where The Apostle Paul can help us. Paul says that he does not boast about being perfect. He doesn’t brag about how great and wonderful and faultless he is. He brags about his weakness. In fact God says, “My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Paul embraces weakness so that the perfection of Jesus Christ might be known. Paul says, “When I am weak, then I am strong.” Paul found the secret of real perfection–doing that for which we are created. Perfection, in a Christian sense, means becoming mature enough to share our weakness with others. Christian perfection demands that we become fully ourselves as God would have us. We are far from Martha Stewart land. I think that Jesus and Paul are urging us to live as whole people—people of integrity.
Shel Silverstein, wrote a story entitled The Missing Piece. This is the story of a circle that was missing a piece—a large triangular wedge that was cut out of it. The circle wanted to be whole, with nothing missing, so it went around looking for its missing piece. Because it was incomplete, however, it could only roll very slowly as it moved through the world. As it rolled slowly along, it had a chance to admire the flowers and butterflies and sunshine and other miracles of nature. The circle found lots of pieces, but none of them fit. Then one day it found a piece that fit perfectly, and the circle was very happy. Now it was whole with nothing missing! It was a perfect circle, and it could roll very fast, too fast to talk to the butterflies or notice the flowers. When it realized how different the world was when it rolled through it so quickly, the circle stopped, left the missing piece by the side of the road, and rolled slowly away.
In some strange way, we are more whole when we are incomplete. We are strong when we are weak. We roll toward perfection only when we are imperfect. Wholeness comes about when we connect with our limitations -- realizing that we are not perfect, can’t be perfect, and don’t have to be perfect. I believe that’s what God is asking of us—to be whole, not perfect. Wholeness is a matter of accepting and integrating all of whom we are—our strengths as well as our limitations, our good side as well as our shadow side. It’s allowing ourselves to admit and acknowledge that is who we are. To be whole means coming before God with all our faults as well as our virtues, and knowing that we’re accepted and loved.
I really like a story about the master psychologist Carl Rogers put it this way: “I let myself know that I am enough. Not perfect. Perfect wouldn’t be enough. But that I am human, that is enough.” I think that’s the very same thing God would say to us. No masks, no pretenses needed. To be ourselves, to be human—that is enough. Wholeness begins when we can make our peace with the fact that we are imperfect people, and God loves us anyway.
Sources:
· William Barclay, Matthew vol. 1 (176-178).
· Linda McCoy, “Mask of Perfection,” http://www.the garden.org/Sermon%20Archives/08 26 01.htm
· Kathleen Norris, Amazing Grace: a Vocabulary of Faith (55-57).
Matthew 5:48; 2 Corinthians 12:1-10
A few years ago, there was a full-page ad in USA Today sponsored by the sportswear company FILA. It featured NBA All-star, Grant Hill. There was a picture of Hill, and then it was surrounded by copy that stated: “This year Grant Hill led his team in scoring, rebounding, assists, and steals, led his team back into the playoffs, and led the league in triple doubles.” The ad continued by saying that Hill, “didn’t punch an official; didn’t demand a contract extension; didn’t dump his high school friends; listened to his mother; made his bed daily.” Moreover, he “promised to take shorter showers in an effort to conserve water; didn’t hurt a fly; chose paper over plastic; rewound tapes before returning them; put coins into other people’s parking meters.” In addition, Hill “kept his thermostat at 68; practiced what he preached; actually paid attention to the flight attendant’s instructions; donated a kidney; and vowed to do better next year.” According to this ad, Grant Hill was perfect
I suspect that, if we were totally honest, most of us would have to admit that we have a desire to look that good to others. We want people to think we’ve got our lives together—that we’re successful, that our kids are the best and our relationships ideal. We want others to think that we’re on top of our game, and that we would never make an error in judgment. If we were totally honest, many of us would have to admit that we have a driving desire to be perfect.
Perfection is defined in the dictionary as having no flaws or shortcomings; complete excellence. Kind of scary, isn’t it? Perfection is one of the most important characteristics of our culture. While we strive to make our lives look flawless, we also fall short of some sort of imaginary and unattainable standard. At one time, Martha Stewart might have been seen as the high priestess of perfection: one dare not let the mask slip, even in one’s home, where all is perfect, right down the last hand-stenciled napkin ring. Of course, now we know that even Martha Stewart can make mistakes. As hard as we might try to convince other people that we have the perfect life, something usually happens that trips us up.
Even so, many of us keep at it, and I think we do that because we’re searching for something. We want approval and love, and we get to the point of believing that the only way we can earn that love is by being perfect and never, ever, making a mistake or falling short. Rachel Remen, in her book Kitchen Table Wisdom, talks about this very thing. In fact, she goes so far as to admit that she is a recovering perfectionist. Remen is a physician who was trained by her father in the art of being perfect long before she entered medical school. She wrote, “As a child, when I brought home a 98 on an exam, he invariably responded, ‘What happened to the other two points?” ’
I read a story about the National Spelling Bee contest where the best school-aged spellers come to compete. The article said that the organizers of the event have had to set up a “comfort room” for contestants after they misspell a word. There they can go to cry in private and vent their frustration on a punching bag, and it helps them cope with the feelings of shame and the sense of failure that come with having gotten one word wrong after having spelled hundreds of words correctly.
The truth is that expecting ourselves or others to be flawless can lead to a miserable existence. Sometimes we create incredible stress in our lives when we try so hard to prove that we’re perfect people. We live in constant fear of messing up or being humiliated or embarrassed when we fail or make a mistake. Striving to present the perfect picture can lead to deadly results. I read a story about Countess Marie of Coventry who reportedly died of lead poisoning from all the make-up she wore in an attempt to portray the perfect look.
Actress Michelle Pfeiffer appeared on the cover of a magazine with the caption “What Michele Pfeiffer Needs Is -- Absolutely Nothing!” It was later discovered by a reporter, however, that Michelle Pfeiffer did need something after all. She needed more than $1,500 worth of touch-up work on that cover photo. From the touch-up artist’s bill, here is a partial list of things that were done to make Michelle Pfeiffer look beautiful: Clean up complexion, soften eye lines, soften smile line, add color to lips, trim chin, remove neck lines, soften line under earlobe, add highlights to earrings, add blush to cheek, clean up neckline, remove stray hair, remove hair strands on dress, adjust color and add hair on top of head, add dress on side to create better line, add forehead, add dress on shoulder, soften neck muscle a bit, clean up and smooth dress folds under arm, and create one seam on image on right side. Total price: $1,525.00
Perfection is costly–even disastrous sometimes.
The way in which we interpret God’s Word doesn’t help our situation, either. What do we do with a passage when Jesus tells us to be perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect? When God gives the divine mandate for us to be perfect, isn’t that just adding to our neurotic quest to reach the unattainable grail of flawlessness? Are we called to be perfect, like God, but simultaneously damned to always fall short of the goal? Does God really expect us to never fall short of perfection? Or, is it possible that we have a skewed reading of this text?
In Matthew 5:48 the word translated “perfection” is the Greek word telios. It actually means “whole or complete.” That which is telios fully realizes the purpose for which it is designed. A person is perfect when he or she realizes the purpose for which we are created and sent into the world.
So, in fact, it is not as much a scary word as it is a scary translation. “Perfection” does not mean to set forth an impossible goal, or that which must be attained at any cost. We get our English word “perfection” from a Latin word meaning complete, entire, full-grown. To be perfect, in the sense that Jesus means it, is to make room for growth, to allow for the changes that bring us into maturity.
Perfection, as our culture defines it, is simply not a part of the human condition, and it’s not intended to be. Being human by its very nature means that we are imperfect flawed creatures. But that’s not a bad thing. I believe this is where The Apostle Paul can help us. Paul says that he does not boast about being perfect. He doesn’t brag about how great and wonderful and faultless he is. He brags about his weakness. In fact God says, “My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Paul embraces weakness so that the perfection of Jesus Christ might be known. Paul says, “When I am weak, then I am strong.” Paul found the secret of real perfection–doing that for which we are created. Perfection, in a Christian sense, means becoming mature enough to share our weakness with others. Christian perfection demands that we become fully ourselves as God would have us. We are far from Martha Stewart land. I think that Jesus and Paul are urging us to live as whole people—people of integrity.
Shel Silverstein, wrote a story entitled The Missing Piece. This is the story of a circle that was missing a piece—a large triangular wedge that was cut out of it. The circle wanted to be whole, with nothing missing, so it went around looking for its missing piece. Because it was incomplete, however, it could only roll very slowly as it moved through the world. As it rolled slowly along, it had a chance to admire the flowers and butterflies and sunshine and other miracles of nature. The circle found lots of pieces, but none of them fit. Then one day it found a piece that fit perfectly, and the circle was very happy. Now it was whole with nothing missing! It was a perfect circle, and it could roll very fast, too fast to talk to the butterflies or notice the flowers. When it realized how different the world was when it rolled through it so quickly, the circle stopped, left the missing piece by the side of the road, and rolled slowly away.
In some strange way, we are more whole when we are incomplete. We are strong when we are weak. We roll toward perfection only when we are imperfect. Wholeness comes about when we connect with our limitations -- realizing that we are not perfect, can’t be perfect, and don’t have to be perfect. I believe that’s what God is asking of us—to be whole, not perfect. Wholeness is a matter of accepting and integrating all of whom we are—our strengths as well as our limitations, our good side as well as our shadow side. It’s allowing ourselves to admit and acknowledge that is who we are. To be whole means coming before God with all our faults as well as our virtues, and knowing that we’re accepted and loved.
I really like a story about the master psychologist Carl Rogers put it this way: “I let myself know that I am enough. Not perfect. Perfect wouldn’t be enough. But that I am human, that is enough.” I think that’s the very same thing God would say to us. No masks, no pretenses needed. To be ourselves, to be human—that is enough. Wholeness begins when we can make our peace with the fact that we are imperfect people, and God loves us anyway.
Sources:
· William Barclay, Matthew vol. 1 (176-178).
· Linda McCoy, “Mask of Perfection,” http://www.the garden.org/Sermon%20Archives/08 26 01.htm
· Kathleen Norris, Amazing Grace: a Vocabulary of Faith (55-57).
Friday, April 27, 2007
Sermon for April 29, 2007
Where is God When Evil Abounds?
Matthew 5:1-11 / Mark 15:33-37
I hear the same question all the time. “Where was God?” Sometimes people ask the question because they felt abandoned by God when they needed God the most. People come to me and want to know WHY God didn’t protect them from the abusive father, the molesting uncle, the bullying mother, the merciless teacher. They want to know WHY God would allow such things to go on -- The woman who was beaten as a child for something as senseless as spilling her milk; the little boy who was scared to death of his alcohol-crazed father, the family who lost a loved one to suicide, or cancer, or a fatal accident.
“How could any God let this happen?” The more we think about it, the more we question God’s influence in the world. I look into eyes that are overflowing with pain and confusion and grief and rage - and they demand an answer. Why a holocaust, God? Why do few get to eat while many more go hungry? Why do you allow people to suffer, God? Why September 11? Why were thousands of innocent men, women, and children were destroyed in senseless acts of violence? God, how could you allow dozens of people to randomly hunted and gunned won by a homicidal maniac this week?
The new face of terrorism gradually emerged for us on Monday as we heard about the massacre at Virginia Tech. Tuesday and Wednesday we heard about human cost of the killings in stark detail. We began to put faces with the numbers, and we wept at the senseless and brutal loss of life. We have now all seen the pictures and learned some of the stories of the beautiful, talented, motivated and hopeful people whose lives are now over.
We heard about Ryan Clark, the fun-loving, 4.0 triple-major, whose greatest joy in life was leading music at a conference for mentally handicapped children and adults. Prof. Kevin Granata had established himself as a leader in the field of reflex response especially as it related to the problems faced by those with cerebral palsy.
We mourn those who had established careers and were leaders in their fields, but our mourning is intensified when we realize that almost all the others who died in the bud of their promise. They were supposed to be living the college life that we, who are older, glorify as we look back -- they are the ones who would learn to paint broadly on the canvas of their lives as they loved, lost, laughed and listened to life. But Austin Clark will not be able to do that; nor will Caitlin Hammaren, or Emily Jane Hilscher, or Peruvian exchange student Daniel Cueva or Brian Bluhm.
The voices of pain and anguish echo across the centuries back to the days of Jesus and before...back to the dawn of time. And they always ask the same question...WHY? It’s probably the hardest question that has ever been asked. Jesus tells us that we’re in for rough times...that in the end there will be wars and earthquakes and famines and plagues and dreadful omens and great signs from heaven. Sometimes it seems as though those times are here. Just pick up the evening newspaper and its all there -- terrorism, wars, starvation, population-killing diseases, and on it goes. So why won’t a loving God do something about all of this mess? Didn’t God become incarnate in Jesus of Nazareth to make things better ...to redeem us from our sin and restore us to the loving arms of the God?
Try to imagine the scene that Mark depicts in today’s gospel lesson. We read about the Lord’s final frightening moments on the cross. The land is covered with darkness–a symbol of the darkness that is invading the world. Deserted and betrayed by his disciples, rejected and condemned by the nation’s leaders, taunted by the crowds, Jesus now experiences utter despair. At this moment, Jesus is fully one with us. At this moment, Jesus faces evil, pain, and death, and shares our human despair to the fullest. It’s as if Jesus is crying out with us, “God, WHY? Where are you when I need you?” And with a final cry of anguish, Jesus dies. Then something amazing happens. A Roman centurion–one of the executioners looks at the dead man and says, “Surely this man was the Son of God.” In Mark’s Gospel, no human being utters these words until this point. Now, a Roman soldier who was used as an instrument of evil, sees the truth, and acknowledges Jesus as God’s Son.
Here’s the point. Jesus knows all about suffering from evil and pain. He tells us that we will face violence. But he also tells us that we won’t be alone when evil abounds. Jesus knows what it’s like to feel abandoned by God. Jesus won’t be standing idly by when our hearts are breaking. Where is God when evil abounds? God is with us, reminding us that he sent his Son to fill our suffering with his presence.
In the days ahead, you will hear the news pundits shift their talk from empathy to action. Politicians will start calling for tough gun control laws. Security will tighten once more. Presidential candidates will try to exploit our fear for votes. In times of darkness, we are tempted to pull back from others and move into self-chosen exile. When we pull away from one another, evil festers. Any time we are torn apart from each other, evil has an opportunity to abound. But there is another way. Facing evil can lead us to become peacemakers. Peacemakers are people who heal by pulling close instead of tearing apart. Peacemakers are people who an get in touch with their own pain and disappointment with God and reach out to others who suffer. Peacemakers are those who have suffered with Christ, just like Christ as suffered with us. Because of their connection with the suffering of Christ, they have compassion, humility, and the desire to root out the weeds of evil.
Let me tell you about some peacemakers. Think back to the last school shooting in October, 2006. A deep sadness stretched across the rural landscape of Pennsylvania as the news spread that five Amish school girls were attacked by a neighbor in their one-room school. A 32-year-old milk truck driver shattered the innocence of Lancaster County’s Amish country when he attacked that schoolhouse. The sadness snaked along the backcountry roads with the parade of black buggies, as Amish families followed plain wooden caskets to church cemeteries. In the aftermath came a renewed call for better school security and gun control laws. But the greater story surrounding the Amish tragedy was the quiet grace of a deeply faithful and forgiving community. The Amish community really wanted the world to know that they forgive the shooter. They grieved for him and his family along with their own fallen daughters. In a day and age when civility seems lost and grace is in short supply, the Amish showed us what is meant to be peacemakers. One newspaper reporter write, “If only the grace that followed -- the faith that overrides pain, the generosity of spirit that inspires forgiveness, the goodwill that binds a community -- would also spill over, the world would be a much better place.”
Peacemakers are spiritual activists. They turn the world upside down by radically living out the Good News that God has not abandoned us. They do crazy things like forgive others. They allow themselves to mourn. They stand up for justice, and compassion and equality. They do it with humility, and sacrifice, and grace.
Listen to the story of another peacemaker. Liviu Librescu, was born in Romania only to be interned in a labor camp when Romania joined forces with Nazi Germany in the Second World War. He was then sent to a ghetto, and somehow avoided the fate of hundreds of thousands of other Romanian Jews killed by the collaborationist regime. He later found work at a Romanian aerospace company but his career was stymied in the 1970s because he refused to swear allegiance to Romania’s Communist dictator. On April 16, 2007, Liviu Librescu found himself pressed against the door of the classroom at Virginia Tech while shots were fired in the corridor and surrounding rooms. He stood firm, attempting to barricade the door, while his students clambered out of the windows. The professor e-mailed his wife to say that he had prevented the gunman getting into the classroom. However, the next e-mails received by the family were from students in the class informing them that Dr. Librescu had not survived the shootings.
Hard to imagine isn’t it – you live through a Nazi concentration camp only to be gunned down at random in a place that is supposed to be safe. But Dr. Librescu new pain. He knew suffering and sacrifice. He knew what it was like to be the victim of violence. So he stood between his students and a gunman and took a heroic stand – the stand of a peacemaker.
There are many peacemakers around us today. Can you be one of them?
Peacemakers learn to love those with whom we are in conflict. This is a challenge for most of us. First, we need to love, forgive and accept ourselves before we feel good enough to love our neighbors and our enemies. I really believe that a mind full of love cannot hold fear and anger at the same time. Perform a small, loving act toward an adversary. Act with compassion even if you feel rejected or offended.
Peacemakers see the image of God in everyone.
Peacemakers pray. We pray for ourselves for strength, patience and intelligence. We pray for guidance and wisdom to say and do the right thing as we walk on this path. We pray for each other, our leaders, our nation, all life, and the planet. We pray for our adversaries. Holding negative thoughts about others is counterproductive. It leads to polarization and alienation. Pray for their well-being, guidance and a positive resolution of any differences between us.
Peacemakers are alert for fearful or angry images that others want us to focus on. We can transform our consciousness by lifting our thoughts out of fear, anger and negativity by affirming the highest God-given qualities and virtues for ourselves and others.
Peacemakers let go of the obsession to dominate and always be right. They focus on the issues rather than attacking the opposition.
Peacemakers are not isolated from the pain and suffering of the world. As we let the pain in, we become transformed, compassionate and motivated to action.
Peacemakers commit to non-violent direct action as an appropriate way to demonstrate our protest to harmful and unjust practices. When evil abounds, we stand and say that God has not abandoned us and that God can be found among those who establish for the values of God’s Kingdom – love, peace, kindness, gentleness, and forgiveness.
Where is God when evil abounds? God is with us because God has faced the darkness has shown us the way to the light. And God is with the peacemakers, for they are the children of God. Our hearts go out to those who have lost much, and we pray the comfort that friends and a suffering Christ can provide.
Matthew 5:1-11 / Mark 15:33-37
I hear the same question all the time. “Where was God?” Sometimes people ask the question because they felt abandoned by God when they needed God the most. People come to me and want to know WHY God didn’t protect them from the abusive father, the molesting uncle, the bullying mother, the merciless teacher. They want to know WHY God would allow such things to go on -- The woman who was beaten as a child for something as senseless as spilling her milk; the little boy who was scared to death of his alcohol-crazed father, the family who lost a loved one to suicide, or cancer, or a fatal accident.
“How could any God let this happen?” The more we think about it, the more we question God’s influence in the world. I look into eyes that are overflowing with pain and confusion and grief and rage - and they demand an answer. Why a holocaust, God? Why do few get to eat while many more go hungry? Why do you allow people to suffer, God? Why September 11? Why were thousands of innocent men, women, and children were destroyed in senseless acts of violence? God, how could you allow dozens of people to randomly hunted and gunned won by a homicidal maniac this week?
The new face of terrorism gradually emerged for us on Monday as we heard about the massacre at Virginia Tech. Tuesday and Wednesday we heard about human cost of the killings in stark detail. We began to put faces with the numbers, and we wept at the senseless and brutal loss of life. We have now all seen the pictures and learned some of the stories of the beautiful, talented, motivated and hopeful people whose lives are now over.
We heard about Ryan Clark, the fun-loving, 4.0 triple-major, whose greatest joy in life was leading music at a conference for mentally handicapped children and adults. Prof. Kevin Granata had established himself as a leader in the field of reflex response especially as it related to the problems faced by those with cerebral palsy.
We mourn those who had established careers and were leaders in their fields, but our mourning is intensified when we realize that almost all the others who died in the bud of their promise. They were supposed to be living the college life that we, who are older, glorify as we look back -- they are the ones who would learn to paint broadly on the canvas of their lives as they loved, lost, laughed and listened to life. But Austin Clark will not be able to do that; nor will Caitlin Hammaren, or Emily Jane Hilscher, or Peruvian exchange student Daniel Cueva or Brian Bluhm.
The voices of pain and anguish echo across the centuries back to the days of Jesus and before...back to the dawn of time. And they always ask the same question...WHY? It’s probably the hardest question that has ever been asked. Jesus tells us that we’re in for rough times...that in the end there will be wars and earthquakes and famines and plagues and dreadful omens and great signs from heaven. Sometimes it seems as though those times are here. Just pick up the evening newspaper and its all there -- terrorism, wars, starvation, population-killing diseases, and on it goes. So why won’t a loving God do something about all of this mess? Didn’t God become incarnate in Jesus of Nazareth to make things better ...to redeem us from our sin and restore us to the loving arms of the God?
Try to imagine the scene that Mark depicts in today’s gospel lesson. We read about the Lord’s final frightening moments on the cross. The land is covered with darkness–a symbol of the darkness that is invading the world. Deserted and betrayed by his disciples, rejected and condemned by the nation’s leaders, taunted by the crowds, Jesus now experiences utter despair. At this moment, Jesus is fully one with us. At this moment, Jesus faces evil, pain, and death, and shares our human despair to the fullest. It’s as if Jesus is crying out with us, “God, WHY? Where are you when I need you?” And with a final cry of anguish, Jesus dies. Then something amazing happens. A Roman centurion–one of the executioners looks at the dead man and says, “Surely this man was the Son of God.” In Mark’s Gospel, no human being utters these words until this point. Now, a Roman soldier who was used as an instrument of evil, sees the truth, and acknowledges Jesus as God’s Son.
Here’s the point. Jesus knows all about suffering from evil and pain. He tells us that we will face violence. But he also tells us that we won’t be alone when evil abounds. Jesus knows what it’s like to feel abandoned by God. Jesus won’t be standing idly by when our hearts are breaking. Where is God when evil abounds? God is with us, reminding us that he sent his Son to fill our suffering with his presence.
In the days ahead, you will hear the news pundits shift their talk from empathy to action. Politicians will start calling for tough gun control laws. Security will tighten once more. Presidential candidates will try to exploit our fear for votes. In times of darkness, we are tempted to pull back from others and move into self-chosen exile. When we pull away from one another, evil festers. Any time we are torn apart from each other, evil has an opportunity to abound. But there is another way. Facing evil can lead us to become peacemakers. Peacemakers are people who heal by pulling close instead of tearing apart. Peacemakers are people who an get in touch with their own pain and disappointment with God and reach out to others who suffer. Peacemakers are those who have suffered with Christ, just like Christ as suffered with us. Because of their connection with the suffering of Christ, they have compassion, humility, and the desire to root out the weeds of evil.
Let me tell you about some peacemakers. Think back to the last school shooting in October, 2006. A deep sadness stretched across the rural landscape of Pennsylvania as the news spread that five Amish school girls were attacked by a neighbor in their one-room school. A 32-year-old milk truck driver shattered the innocence of Lancaster County’s Amish country when he attacked that schoolhouse. The sadness snaked along the backcountry roads with the parade of black buggies, as Amish families followed plain wooden caskets to church cemeteries. In the aftermath came a renewed call for better school security and gun control laws. But the greater story surrounding the Amish tragedy was the quiet grace of a deeply faithful and forgiving community. The Amish community really wanted the world to know that they forgive the shooter. They grieved for him and his family along with their own fallen daughters. In a day and age when civility seems lost and grace is in short supply, the Amish showed us what is meant to be peacemakers. One newspaper reporter write, “If only the grace that followed -- the faith that overrides pain, the generosity of spirit that inspires forgiveness, the goodwill that binds a community -- would also spill over, the world would be a much better place.”
Peacemakers are spiritual activists. They turn the world upside down by radically living out the Good News that God has not abandoned us. They do crazy things like forgive others. They allow themselves to mourn. They stand up for justice, and compassion and equality. They do it with humility, and sacrifice, and grace.
Listen to the story of another peacemaker. Liviu Librescu, was born in Romania only to be interned in a labor camp when Romania joined forces with Nazi Germany in the Second World War. He was then sent to a ghetto, and somehow avoided the fate of hundreds of thousands of other Romanian Jews killed by the collaborationist regime. He later found work at a Romanian aerospace company but his career was stymied in the 1970s because he refused to swear allegiance to Romania’s Communist dictator. On April 16, 2007, Liviu Librescu found himself pressed against the door of the classroom at Virginia Tech while shots were fired in the corridor and surrounding rooms. He stood firm, attempting to barricade the door, while his students clambered out of the windows. The professor e-mailed his wife to say that he had prevented the gunman getting into the classroom. However, the next e-mails received by the family were from students in the class informing them that Dr. Librescu had not survived the shootings.
Hard to imagine isn’t it – you live through a Nazi concentration camp only to be gunned down at random in a place that is supposed to be safe. But Dr. Librescu new pain. He knew suffering and sacrifice. He knew what it was like to be the victim of violence. So he stood between his students and a gunman and took a heroic stand – the stand of a peacemaker.
There are many peacemakers around us today. Can you be one of them?
Peacemakers learn to love those with whom we are in conflict. This is a challenge for most of us. First, we need to love, forgive and accept ourselves before we feel good enough to love our neighbors and our enemies. I really believe that a mind full of love cannot hold fear and anger at the same time. Perform a small, loving act toward an adversary. Act with compassion even if you feel rejected or offended.
Peacemakers see the image of God in everyone.
Peacemakers pray. We pray for ourselves for strength, patience and intelligence. We pray for guidance and wisdom to say and do the right thing as we walk on this path. We pray for each other, our leaders, our nation, all life, and the planet. We pray for our adversaries. Holding negative thoughts about others is counterproductive. It leads to polarization and alienation. Pray for their well-being, guidance and a positive resolution of any differences between us.
Peacemakers are alert for fearful or angry images that others want us to focus on. We can transform our consciousness by lifting our thoughts out of fear, anger and negativity by affirming the highest God-given qualities and virtues for ourselves and others.
Peacemakers let go of the obsession to dominate and always be right. They focus on the issues rather than attacking the opposition.
Peacemakers are not isolated from the pain and suffering of the world. As we let the pain in, we become transformed, compassionate and motivated to action.
Peacemakers commit to non-violent direct action as an appropriate way to demonstrate our protest to harmful and unjust practices. When evil abounds, we stand and say that God has not abandoned us and that God can be found among those who establish for the values of God’s Kingdom – love, peace, kindness, gentleness, and forgiveness.
Where is God when evil abounds? God is with us because God has faced the darkness has shown us the way to the light. And God is with the peacemakers, for they are the children of God. Our hearts go out to those who have lost much, and we pray the comfort that friends and a suffering Christ can provide.
Sermon for Jazz Sunday
I don’t know how many of you men have succumbed to Gillette’s latest shaving innovation, the outlandish six-bladed Fusion razor. Where will it all end? How many blades are enough? 8? 15? 20? To counter the Fusion frenzy, Cory Greenberg, new technology editor on the Today Show, ironically did a segment on what’s called wet-shaving. Wet-shaving uses an old school single blade safety razor, a badger hair brush and high-end English cream and lots of hot water. He says that wetshaving delivers not only the greatest shave you can possibly imagine, but it brings back the pleasant, gentlemanly Cary Grant ritual that you can only get at old-time barber shops. Millions of people all over the world watched the Today Show segment, and as ridiculous as it sounds, the ensuing rush on razors, brushes, and creams created a worldwide shortage of shaving goods—vendors who’d been beseeching the masses to throw down their Fusions, their Quattros, their Mach-3s, and pressurized cans of goo reported doing a year’s worth of business in a few days. Overnight, funky vintage razors that used to go for a few bucks on eBay suddenly began climbing to well over $100.
Fusions and Mach-3s and Quattros are safe, but ultimately they make life very boring. But isn’t that how we do it today? We don’t really want adventure. We don’t want risk. Oh, we dream about it. But our tidy lives show that we are more interested in safety and propriety.
Do you ever wonder what it might sound like if Marvin Hamlisch or John Williams or Philip Glass composed a soundtrack for your life? What would your love theme sound like? How about your victory anthem? What music plays in the background when you roll out of bead, or play with the kids, or drive to work in traffic, or cook supper? What if you were at Karaoke night, and had to pick the song that best fits your life? What would you sing?
For a lot of us, our life would be lived on the downbeat. The downbeat is the impulse that occurs on the first beat of a measure of music. So, if your song has four beats, the downbeat emphasizes beats one and three. " Lórd, DismÃss us wÃth Thy Bléssing ," or "O sáy ,can you sée by the dáwn's early lÃght ." One, two, three, four; left, right; left, right; this systolic-diastolic beat is as familiar to us as life itself
Downbeats are nice. They’re steady and predictable. Downbeats help us march through life with some regularity. No surprises. Just a steady beat.
Sometimes we live faith on the downbeats. We are such planners. We decide how God must come into human affairs. We treat it all with a public relations twist. We pick the time and place. We insure that the right people are there to meet God. We get the news release so everyone knows what to expect. We have some scripted ways that we want to hear from God. God becomes steady and predictable. We like it that way.
But what if God’s not safe? What if God is less like a Neil Diamond song and more like Duke Ellington. What if God doesn’t always work on the downbeats of life? What if God sings on the backbeat? The backbeat emphasis the second and fourth beat. The offbeat. It makes music exciting. Jazz musicians play on the backbeat, and wild things begin to happen.
My favorite Jazz singer -- St. Francis. Read his biographies, you can just hear his soundtrack. “Who can describe the fervent charity which burned within Francis? Like a glowing coal, he seemed totally absorbed in the flame of divine love. Whenever he heard of the love of God, he was at once excited, moved and inflamed as if an inner chord of his heart had been plucked by the plectrum of the eternal voice.” So writes one of Francis’s biographers in the year 1260.
So often I have a tendency to view the saints as people who were super heroes; men and woman of respectability and decorum. In other words -- totally unlike me. My problem seems to be not so much that I can’t do the right thing, but that more often than not, I'm not certain what the right thing is! Saint Francis wasn’t like that. He lived on the offbeat. Throughout the course of his life he steadfastly refused to join the ranks of the wise an. learned--of those, who were certain of the right thing. He remained a fool for God, and as such, was always open to rethinking the Holy Spirit’s inspiration
In Italy there is a little town where they still tell the story of the time long ago when the village was being continually terrorized by a ferocious wolf. So terrible had been the toll on the local chicken coops, and so huge, so clever, and so vicious had this wolf become in local legend that the villagers had decided to track down and kill the fearsome beast lest it slaughter them all some night in their sleep. A jittery militia armed with clubs and pitchforks had been assembled, and was just ready to depart on its mission of destruction when who should appear in the village square but St. Francis. Francis was able to persuade the villagers to temporarily set their weapons aside. Then he went out into the forest and had a long talk with the wolf. The wolf, was willing to leave his chicken dinners behind him in order to save his life, and all lived in peace. Francis had seen killing. He knew what it was like to suffer in prison, and to see people massacred around him. But, he also knew the peace of Christ, and showed us how to be instrument of peace to all creation.
Over the past several months I have been listening to the intensifying drumbeat of violence from around the world.. The wolf his howling around us–scaring us and looking to devour. Terrorists haunt air terminals, and blow themselves up on crowded street corners. Hostages are taken, assassins lurk in the shadows, and angry nations commit themselves to years of ruinous war. Wars rage in other places as well. Churches fight with one another. Families come to ruins out of anger. Lifelong friends now hate each other. It is always easier to get people to take up the sword than it is to get them to put the sword down, easier to inflame passions than to cool them off.
Who sings on the offbeat? Whose voices do you hear singing a song of peace and love and justice? I gotta tell you, I don’t usually hear the church. But shouldn’t I? Shouldn’t Christians be the first one’s to stand up and confront the evils and pains of the world with an alternative – with a song of hope that expresses God’s passionate and unpredictable love?
It might help a lot if we would allow ourselves to envision the world as Francis did. It’s the same way Jesus saw the world, by the way. They did not march through the world in conventional steps. They lived on the two and four.
Every day is ripe with potential for generosity, courage, mercy, transformation and freedom. There is something in us that responds profoundly to gentleness, to sacrifice, to tears and laughter – something that longs to reach out to others in generosity, openness, and trust. If anyone ever expressed that need, it was St. Francis in his offbeat prayer:
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.
Divine Master, grant that I may seek not so much to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love.
For in giving we receive, in pardoning we are pardoned, and in dying, we are born to eternal life.
Go out there and take a risk. Be a fool. Hear the call to be an offbeat Christian. Live on the two and four.
Living on the two and four means that we don’t just focus on the 16th century event that brought this church into existence
and rather follow the call to bring freedom and salvation to people through the insight God gave us through that event.
Living on the two and four means that we will identify the forces today that enslave people to this world's guilt and indulgence peddling
and bring them the gospel of grace in their context, religious or not.
The world doesn't need us singing the same old songs to ourselves
in the same old places.
It is time to sing the world a new song.
It is time to sing the world a love song:
To sing a lament where there is pain;
To sing a protest song where there is injustice;
To sing a lullaby to the lonely.
These are the offbeat songs that the Spirit sings.
May we have ears to hear and eyes to see. And voices to sing.
Fusions and Mach-3s and Quattros are safe, but ultimately they make life very boring. But isn’t that how we do it today? We don’t really want adventure. We don’t want risk. Oh, we dream about it. But our tidy lives show that we are more interested in safety and propriety.
Do you ever wonder what it might sound like if Marvin Hamlisch or John Williams or Philip Glass composed a soundtrack for your life? What would your love theme sound like? How about your victory anthem? What music plays in the background when you roll out of bead, or play with the kids, or drive to work in traffic, or cook supper? What if you were at Karaoke night, and had to pick the song that best fits your life? What would you sing?
For a lot of us, our life would be lived on the downbeat. The downbeat is the impulse that occurs on the first beat of a measure of music. So, if your song has four beats, the downbeat emphasizes beats one and three. " Lórd, DismÃss us wÃth Thy Bléssing ," or "O sáy ,can you sée by the dáwn's early lÃght ." One, two, three, four; left, right; left, right; this systolic-diastolic beat is as familiar to us as life itself
Downbeats are nice. They’re steady and predictable. Downbeats help us march through life with some regularity. No surprises. Just a steady beat.
Sometimes we live faith on the downbeats. We are such planners. We decide how God must come into human affairs. We treat it all with a public relations twist. We pick the time and place. We insure that the right people are there to meet God. We get the news release so everyone knows what to expect. We have some scripted ways that we want to hear from God. God becomes steady and predictable. We like it that way.
But what if God’s not safe? What if God is less like a Neil Diamond song and more like Duke Ellington. What if God doesn’t always work on the downbeats of life? What if God sings on the backbeat? The backbeat emphasis the second and fourth beat. The offbeat. It makes music exciting. Jazz musicians play on the backbeat, and wild things begin to happen.
My favorite Jazz singer -- St. Francis. Read his biographies, you can just hear his soundtrack. “Who can describe the fervent charity which burned within Francis? Like a glowing coal, he seemed totally absorbed in the flame of divine love. Whenever he heard of the love of God, he was at once excited, moved and inflamed as if an inner chord of his heart had been plucked by the plectrum of the eternal voice.” So writes one of Francis’s biographers in the year 1260.
So often I have a tendency to view the saints as people who were super heroes; men and woman of respectability and decorum. In other words -- totally unlike me. My problem seems to be not so much that I can’t do the right thing, but that more often than not, I'm not certain what the right thing is! Saint Francis wasn’t like that. He lived on the offbeat. Throughout the course of his life he steadfastly refused to join the ranks of the wise an. learned--of those, who were certain of the right thing. He remained a fool for God, and as such, was always open to rethinking the Holy Spirit’s inspiration
In Italy there is a little town where they still tell the story of the time long ago when the village was being continually terrorized by a ferocious wolf. So terrible had been the toll on the local chicken coops, and so huge, so clever, and so vicious had this wolf become in local legend that the villagers had decided to track down and kill the fearsome beast lest it slaughter them all some night in their sleep. A jittery militia armed with clubs and pitchforks had been assembled, and was just ready to depart on its mission of destruction when who should appear in the village square but St. Francis. Francis was able to persuade the villagers to temporarily set their weapons aside. Then he went out into the forest and had a long talk with the wolf. The wolf, was willing to leave his chicken dinners behind him in order to save his life, and all lived in peace. Francis had seen killing. He knew what it was like to suffer in prison, and to see people massacred around him. But, he also knew the peace of Christ, and showed us how to be instrument of peace to all creation.
Over the past several months I have been listening to the intensifying drumbeat of violence from around the world.. The wolf his howling around us–scaring us and looking to devour. Terrorists haunt air terminals, and blow themselves up on crowded street corners. Hostages are taken, assassins lurk in the shadows, and angry nations commit themselves to years of ruinous war. Wars rage in other places as well. Churches fight with one another. Families come to ruins out of anger. Lifelong friends now hate each other. It is always easier to get people to take up the sword than it is to get them to put the sword down, easier to inflame passions than to cool them off.
Who sings on the offbeat? Whose voices do you hear singing a song of peace and love and justice? I gotta tell you, I don’t usually hear the church. But shouldn’t I? Shouldn’t Christians be the first one’s to stand up and confront the evils and pains of the world with an alternative – with a song of hope that expresses God’s passionate and unpredictable love?
It might help a lot if we would allow ourselves to envision the world as Francis did. It’s the same way Jesus saw the world, by the way. They did not march through the world in conventional steps. They lived on the two and four.
Every day is ripe with potential for generosity, courage, mercy, transformation and freedom. There is something in us that responds profoundly to gentleness, to sacrifice, to tears and laughter – something that longs to reach out to others in generosity, openness, and trust. If anyone ever expressed that need, it was St. Francis in his offbeat prayer:
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.
Divine Master, grant that I may seek not so much to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love.
For in giving we receive, in pardoning we are pardoned, and in dying, we are born to eternal life.
Go out there and take a risk. Be a fool. Hear the call to be an offbeat Christian. Live on the two and four.
Living on the two and four means that we don’t just focus on the 16th century event that brought this church into existence
and rather follow the call to bring freedom and salvation to people through the insight God gave us through that event.
Living on the two and four means that we will identify the forces today that enslave people to this world's guilt and indulgence peddling
and bring them the gospel of grace in their context, religious or not.
The world doesn't need us singing the same old songs to ourselves
in the same old places.
It is time to sing the world a new song.
It is time to sing the world a love song:
To sing a lament where there is pain;
To sing a protest song where there is injustice;
To sing a lullaby to the lonely.
These are the offbeat songs that the Spirit sings.
May we have ears to hear and eyes to see. And voices to sing.
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