Sermon for October 6, 2019

Abundant Bread

Preached by Pastor Matt Braddock

They found him on the other side of the lake and asked, “Rabbi, when did you get here?” Jesus replied, “I tell you the truth, you want to be with me because I fed you, not because you understood the miraculous signs. But don’t be so concerned about perishable things like food. Spend your energy seeking the eternal life that the Son of Man can give you. For God the Father has given me the seal of his approval.” They replied, “We want to perform God’s works, too. What should we do?” Jesus told them, “This is the only work God wants from you: Believe in the one he has sent.” They answered, “Show us a miraculous sign if you want us to believe in you. What can you do? After all, our ancestors ate manna while they journeyed through the wilderness! The Scriptures say, ‘Moses gave them bread from heaven to eat.’” Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, Moses didn’t give you bread from heaven. My Father did. And now he offers you the true bread from heaven. The true bread of God is the one who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” “Sir,” they said, “give us that bread every day.” Jesus replied, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry again. Whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. John 6:25-35

Thousands of people were out on the hillside where Jesus taught them. Now they are hungry. The closest followers of Jesus approach. “Jesus, people are really hungry, and all we can find to eat is a kid’s lunch with some bread and a few fish. How are you going to feed the people?”
Jesus says, “I’m not going to feed them. You are!”

Now the disciples face an overwhelming task: feed the masses with no apparent resources at all. Looking out on a landscape of scarcity, they don’t know what to do. They don’t have the means to feed these people. Someone suggests they send people away to the surrounding villages to find food. When things are tight it usually seems like it’s everyone for themselves.

But Jesus says, “No, you give them something to eat.” He shows the disciples how to put the people into groups seated on the grass. The answer to scarcity begins in breaking down the walls that keep us apart, giving people the chance to come out of their isolation and to connect with each other.

Then Jesus shows the disciples how to gather up what food they have. He takes five loaves and two fish, blesses and breaks them, and gives them to the disciples to spread among the people. Everyone eats. Everyone is full. Everyone has enough. A world of scarcity gives way to a world of abundance.
Some call it a supernatural miracle of multiplication of food. I think it’s a miracle of generosity erupting in their lives. Hearing Jesus teach all afternoon about a God who loves each of them and calls them by name, the people duplicate what they now see the disciples doing. They get into small groups bring out morsels of food they carried to get them through the day. They no longer feel the need to hide and protect what they brought just for themselves. They offer what they have. a morsel here, a piece there, a remnant here and a drop there, until all are fed … until all have enough. Bread is no longer a scarce resource to be hoarded. Bread is a gift from God to be shared and eaten together. A world of scarcity becomes a world of abundance.

This isn’t just an abstract sort of moral lesson – The fear of running out affects the way we live and the way we do ministry together. There’s never enough. That’s the message we hear and believe every day. We can so easily stumble into the trap of comparing the little we have to the size of the problems around us and giving up, or assuming whatever we do will be good, but not enough. But a shared morsel here, a piece there, a remnant here and a drop there, is enough.

The pavement swarmed with onlookers, cordoned off by soldiers and police. Thousands of Russians gathered to witness a procession of 20,000 German war prisoners through Moscow’s streets — German soldiers, heads down, thin and unshaven, wearing dirty, blood-stained bandages, hobbling on crutches or leaning on the shoulders of companions. The street became silent, except for the sound of shuffling boots and the thumping of crutches. The onlooking crowd was mostly Russian women with hands roughened by hard work and with thin hunched shoulders which had borne half of the burden of the war. Every one of them must have had a father or a husband, a brother or a son killed by the Germans. They gazed with disgust at the generals who marched in front, massive chins stuck out, lips folded disdainfully, their whole demeanor meant to show superiority over their enemies. The women clenched their fists. The soldiers and police had all they could do to hold them back. But then something happened to the crowd. An elderly woman in broken-down boots pushed herself forward and touched a policeman’s shoulder saying, “Let me through.” There must have been something about her that made him step aside. She went up to the prisoners and took a crust of black bread from inside her coat. She pushed it awkwardly into the pocket of a soldier, so exhausted that he was tottering on his feet. Then, from every side, women ran toward the soldiers, pushing into their hands bread, cigarettes, whatever they had. The soldiers were no longer enemies. They were people. And that’s how revolutions of compassion are born. In the bleakest moment, someone starts to recreate a miracle of generosity — the same miracle Jesus showed his disciples how to start centuries ago. Someone shares her bread with another who is supposed to be the enemy. Then, one by one, a parade of the oppressed becomes a march of compassion. The answer to scarcity begins in breaking down the walls that keep us apart, giving people the chance to abandon isolation and to connect with each other.

That’s what the church is supposed to be. At CCC we provide a morsel of healing for the brokenhearted, a piece of rest for the weary of spirit, a remnant of comfort for the suffering, a drop of courage for the fearful. Here we remember and celebrate that life has beauty and joy, meaning and purpose. We do not ever face the task alone. We know that we are stronger together, better together. We have a secret operation: a counterinsurgency of community.

The powers and principalities of this present age want us to isolate and divide us so we betray, fight, and kill. They want us to enemies and then parade them in the middle-of-the-road, hoping we will unite in our feelings of common anger and victimhood. They want us to believe that our meager individual offerings will never be enough to solve the problems around us, so we shouldn’t even bother to help. The best we can do is protect our resources, hoard them for ourselves, and take care of me and mine. I hate to admit it, but that message has slipped into churches. I see it all over, and unfortunately we at CCC are not immune.

Imagine this situation. Sometimes at church, some people get upset because they feel like they do all the work while others do nothing but get all the benefits. “I’m sharing my bread here, meanwhile others are coming all the time and they are not sharing any of theirs. I know they have bread to share, but they come here and just take and eat without ever giving anything back. It doesn’t seem fair.” Fair enough. We do want people to contribute their fair share. When everyone shares a little of their lunch, there is enough for all. No one goes hungry. However, think that way for too long, and resentment builds. The challenge here is not about fairness. It’s that we forget our gifts and resources are not ours. They belong to God.

In the village where I served my first church, there was an Assemblies of God pastor and his wife who ran a clothing room in a small storefront near the post office. They supplied a much-needed service to a farming community many migrant families who worked the agricultural fields in the growing and harvesting months. One day as I walked by, Pastor Ed had a huge delivery of oranges in his shop. I’m talking wall-to-wall oranges. Pastor Ed beckoned me inside. “Pastor Matt, would you and your family like some oranges?” As a stoic New Englander, I had an instant running dialogue in my head: “I shouldn’t take handouts. I did not earn those oranges. I have not shared anything in return. Certainly, there are people more in need than my family.” Then I asked out loud, “Ed, aren’t these for people in need? I don’t need oranges. I can go buy some and save these for people who are hungry.” Thrusting a box at me with a jubilant smile, Pastor Ed said, “Take them. God supplied these oranges. And God told me to give them away, no questions asked!” That was his whole philosophy. He did not own any of those oranges, so it was not up to him to decide who was worthy to receive. There was enough for all. No questions asked. I try to keep that in mind when I start feeling resentful because I think I’m contributing more than others. My job is to share God’s abundance in proportion to what I’ve received.

Taking more than what we need is also a problem. The Bible storytellers were consistently vexed by this. They told us about how God punished people who took extra for themselves at the expense of others. In our second reading, Jesus teaches about the Bread of Life and the Manna in the Wilderness. If you are not familiar with that story, when the people of Israel wandered in the desert for 40 years with Moses, God promised to feed the people every day. Each morning, a bread like substance called manna would fall to the ground. Each family could gather as much manna as they needed for the day. But manna was only good for one day. If you wanted to store it all up and stockpile your manna, you’d be sorry. By the next day, manna went rancid and become full of maggots. The only exception was the Sabbath. In preparation, a family could gather two-days-worth to honor the day of rest. The temptation is that when life feels like a desert and we want to hoard our resources, we forget that what we need is already here. When we cannot trust each other, then our tomorrows turn to worms.
We learn to trust that each of us will give and gather according to our need. When we feed and nurture out of our abundance, sharing our DAILY bread, we have enough.

Jesus can show us how to do miracles with whatever bread we are willing to give. Of course, all of us could do more if we had more. You could serve God in great ways if you won a million dollars in the lottery. If we had a bigger congregation, or a better building, or a bigger endowment, or any of a whole list of things we could come up with, we could do more ministry. But God does not need more from us than we have. The gifts you have are enough. You are enough.

In a few minutes, we will invite you to come to the communion table, the community table, where there is enough for everyone. Here we remember that our divisions vanish. Take a piece of bread and a dip it in some juice, and get the smallest taste of the abundant, everlasting feast to come. Come and be fed by the One who Bread of Life. No one has to be hungry or thirsty again, but it only when we recreate the miracle of gratitude, sharing a morsel here, a piece there, a remnant here and a drop there, until all are fed … until all have enough.

Sources:
crivoice. org/biblestudy/exodus/bbex22.html
http://danielflucke. com/abundant-offering/
https://cathedral. org/sermons/from-scarcity-to-abundance-2/tears. May we who share these gifts abundantly.

Sermon for September 22, 2019

Abundant Prayer

Preached by Pastor Matt Braddock

Philippians 4:6-8

It’s not too difficult to see that this is a fearful and painful time of history. It seems that that the powers of darkness are more visible than ever, and that we are being tested more severely than ever. Have you ever wondered what it’s going to take to survive our times? What is required of those of us who want to shine light into the shadows? What is required of those of us who feel called to enter fully into the agony of our times to offer a word of hope? In her song “If We’re Honest”, singer-songwriter Francesca Battistelli sings about one of the biggest struggles of our culture:

Truth is harder than a lie,
The dark seems safer than the light,
And everyone has a heart that loves to hide,
I’m a mess and so are you,
We’ve built walls nobody can get through

Many of us have grown tired, bitter, resentful, or simply bored. Where are we supposed to find nurture and strength?

You know what I don’t find helpful? It’s when I talk about my difficulties and someone else says, “I’ll pray for you.” It’s not bad or wrong. It’s just that I have some hang ups about it. Is that person going to pray, or is it just one of those phrases someone says to be polite? What exactly is the person praying for? Who are they praying to, and what do we all expect from this? Or maybe the person is uncomfortable with my vulnerability and says, “I’ll pray for you,” to get me to stop talking. Or, they disagree with me and pray that I will see the light.

The phrase, “thoughts and prayers” is now controversial. Thoughts and prayers are offered by politicians and public leaders after mass shootings to offer comfort. It gives politicians and public figures something to say that sounds sympathetic. Thoughts and prayers … at its best it’s a three-word sympathy card, spoken when there’s not much else that can be said. At its worst thoughts and prayers don’t offer much that is thoughtful and are about as far as one can get from prayerful. The backlash on social media criticizes “thoughts and prayers” as ineffective to bring about change, when it comes to preventable violence.

My biggest hang-up with prayer is that I don’t believe in a god who intervenes in our lives like a cosmic puppeteer in the sky. I’ve given up on the Big Guy or Big Gal upstairs who hears my prayers and then may decide to bend the laws of nature to answer me … or not. I’ve given up praying to the god who cannot or will not fix the plague of poverty, the deception of discrimination, and the wounds of war. Some want be to pray to a god who lets a multi-million-dollar football player score a touchdown over saving those suffering from starvation. It doesn’t make sense It’s a strange thought to think that God cares for the elite but not those suffering.

But here’s the thing: Just because my ideas about who God is are changing, I still believe in the power of prayer. I believe prayer has worked and continues to work miracles! I pray expecting it can make a difference. How do I think prayer works? The truth is, I just don’t know. I don’t know how prayer works. Prayer remains a mystery to me. I can’t do anything more than speculate, and I’m fully aware that I may have it all wrong.

I wonder if part of being human is the power to heal one another, to heal the planet, and to heal the world. There is tremendous power in the bonds between us, in the gentle touch we can offer one another, in the hospitable presence of love extended to our friends and even to our enemies. The power that lies in the connections between us is the power we access when we pray.

Prayer is vulnerability. Maybe that’s why I have such a reaction when someone says, “I’ll pray for you.” I want people to pray for me. I really do. But not in a cavalier way. Not in a way that makes someone superior to me. I do not like to be condescended to. If I risk being vulnerable to you in my sharing my pains and weaknesses, I want you to enter my pain with your pain, my weakness with your weakness. We seek help and healing from a place of mutuality.

It’s never easy to admit our faults and weaknesses, and then speak them to God. But it’s necessary. Vulnerable love is how we connect with each other.

It may be hard, but the best thing we could ever do
Bring your brokenness, and I’ll bring mine,
‘Cause love can heal what hurt divides,
And mercy’s waiting on the other side,
If we’re honest.

Many people hear vulnerability and think weakness. Genuine vulnerability is hard. It takes courage and boldness. It is also the beginning of true connection between people.

The power of Christ is the power of vulnerability. We can only be vulnerable with one another because God was first vulnerable to us. This is where the traditional language of falling to our knees in prayer and surrendering to God has the most power. We must make ourselves vulnerable to God. That’s the hardest part, but it’s the only way we can give our whole selves to God in prayer. God does not coerce or force God’s self on anything. God lures and draws everything into the divine adventure of justice and beauty, healing and wholeness. God calls and we respond. God does not force, act “supernaturally” or invade. God doesn’t manipulate. God calls.

I pray because God exists. In case you heard me differently earlier, let me be clear. God exists. I’m just not into God as the cosmic monarch whose will controls all things and rewards the rich. God exists in love. Love is God’s fundamental character. Love is vulnerable. God exists in all of our faults, in all of our mistakes, in all of our worries, and in all of our pain. If we come to God with our whole selves, we will experience something holy. When we are at our most vulnerable, that’s when God’s can be the most present. That’s when we find the courage to be vulnerable. For me, this is prayer.

Bring your brokenness, and I’ll bring mine,
‘Cause love can heal what hurt divides,
And mercy’s waiting on the other side,
If we’re honest.

What it’s going to take to survive our times? What is required of those of us who want to shine light into the shadows? What is required of those of us who feel called to enter fully into the agony of our times to offer a word of hope? It’s going to take some prayer … prayer that changes who we are and how we acts, prayer that moves us to embrace our neighbors in deep bonds of love, prayer that seek the healing that our world so badly needs. Pray without ceasing. Pray abundantly. Offer your requests to God as you open yourself to the power of love. Expose yourself to the divine who lives and breathes in you, and with you, and through you, and beyond you, so that you can become more fully human. Embrace all that you are. Embrace your humanity in prayer, embrace it in your life which is the greatest prayer you will ever pray. Feel the embrace of the bonds of love that bind us one to another. Be the love that is God in the world.

Bring your brokenness, and I’ll bring mine,
‘Cause love can heal what hurt divides,
And mercy’s waiting on the other side,
If we’re honest.

Let us pray:
We cannot merely pray to You, O God, to end war; for we know that You have made the world in a way that we must find our own path to peace within our self and with our neighbor. We cannot merely pray to You, O God, to end starvation; for You have already given us the resources with which to feed the entire world if we would only use them wisely. We cannot merely pray to You, O God, too root out prejudice; for You have already given us eyes with which to see the good in all if we would only use them rightly. We cannot merely pray to You, O God, to end despair; for You have already given us the power to give hope if we would only use our power justly. We cannot merely pray to You, O God, to end disease; for You have already give us great minds with which to search out cures and healing if we would only use them constructively. Therefore, we pray to You instead, O God, for strength, determination, and willpower to do instead of just to pray, to become instead of merely to wish.

https://pastordawn. com/2018/02/04/so-as-a-progressive-christian-how-do-i-think-prayer-works-a-sermon-for-epiphany-5b-mark-129-39/
http://www.bobcornwall. com/2010/05/what-difference-does-prayer-make.html
https://thethread.ptsem. edu/culture/vulnerable-god
https://lightbearers. org/blog/the-power-of-vulnerability/

Sermon for September 1, 2019

Thirsty for Justice

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

Matthew 5:6

Access to clean, safe, and affordable water is a basic human right essential for a healthy population, environment, and economy. Not everyone gets that right. The Commission for Racial Justice of the United Church of Christ first coined a term to explain why. About 30 years ago, the UCC came out with a report and coined the term, “environmental racism,” calling out corporate and government actions that result in the unequal exposure of racialized and low-income people to environmental dangers that threaten their physical, social, economic, or environmental health and well-being.

The Commission found a link between a person’s race and one’s likelihood of living near a hazardous waste facility. This ground-breaking report prompted numerous other studies that supported the UCC’s conclusions. Evidence mounted quickly saying that racialized and low-income communities bear a lop-sided share of environmental dangers and are victims of environmental racism. Some will go on the defense and argue that exposure to environmental toxins has to do more with income than race. But, signs indicate that race is more of a factor than class. In other words, if one were to compare a middle-class community of color to a low-income white community, and look at which community is more likely to have a hazardous waste facility near its neighborhood, the middle-class community of color would have a greater chance of being targeted for such a facility. In fact, in some cases, race is a more significant indicator of pollution burdens than income, childhood poverty, education, employment or home ownership.

For me, this is a faith issue. It is a thirst issue. Are we thirsty for justice? If we are thirsting for God to fill us, mold us and use us, are we also thirsting for all people to experience the same blessings? If others do not receive them, then my faith compels me to do my part to spread God’s love and compassion cover the earth, as the waters cover the sea.  And for me, it starts locally. People of faith are called to care for each of our neighbors, regardless of race, income level, or life circumstances. Can we look around us, during these dry and withered times, in our region, with our neighbors, and say, “We thirst for righteousness, God”?

There are important parallels between racism and climate change denial. Both ideologies protect the interests of a wealthy elite. Both continue to undermine the interests of the working class. Both are a form of willful ignorance. While researchers produce report after report detailing the cataclysm to come, Americans remain ambivalent about whether humans are causing climate change. To end the debate, citizens concerned about the steady rise in temperature should decide that climate denial, like racism, has no quarter in the public square. Advocates should call out climate deniers and shame corporations who associate with them. And journalists should refuse to give a platform to climate change denial.

Fighting both racism and climate change denial means treating these dehumanizing and dangerous systems of belief as outside the bounds of public debate. Denial of degradation is too ugly, too hazardous and too backward to be validated in the marketplace of ideas. While we are busy debating whether racism and environmental degradation are real, American businesses take taking advantage of racists structures and general ignorance to make money. Did you know that during the 2010 BP Oil Spill, incarcerated workers were hired from the prison system to help with the clean up? Inmates on the cleanup were forbidden to speak to the media about their work, which state agencies called ‘green jobs’. Inmates earned between $0-$0.40 an hour. So, BP and its subcontractors got workers who were not only deeply discounted but also easily silenced—and BP received lucrative tax write-offs in the process. In a region where nine out of ten residents were white, the cleanup workers were almost exclusively African-American men. The racialized nature of the cleanup was so conspicuous, Ben Jealous, who was the  president of the NAACP at the time, sent a public letter to BP demanding to know why Black people were over-represented in “the most physically difficult, lowest paying jobs, with the most significant exposure to toxins.” It’s environmental racism: the unequal exposure of racialized people to environmental dangers that threaten their physical, social, economic, or environmental health and well-being.

California hired incarcerated workers to help fight wildfires. While non-incarcerated fire fighters earned $22-$34 and hour, prison laborers earned $2 a day. And we know who most of the incarcerated workers are – they not white-collar criminals like Michael Cohen, right? We are talking about incarcerated Black workers brought up in a cradle-to-prison pipeline. The most dangerous place for a child to try to grow up in America is at the intersection of race and poverty. Black and Latino children are more likely to go to jail in their lifetime than their white peers not because of potential, but because of systemic inequity as a result of race and poverty. We should be very alarmed by the idea that the greatest predictor that a baby will succeed in life is the color of one’s skin and the family’s income level.

On a day like today when we commemorate the first enslaved Africans who were brought to this country against their will and forced to labor here, it’s hard to believe we, as Americans, are over the sin of slavery when we still find people laboring in similar situations today.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. Righteousness is not just the private practice of doing good; it sums up the global responsibility of the human community to make sure every person has what they need, that everyone pursues a fair sense of justice for every, and that everyone else, that we are living in right relationship with one another, creation, and God. Jesus instructs us to be passionate for social, economic, and racial justice. Resist systemic, structured, institutionalized injustice with every bone in your body, with all your might, with your very soul. Seek justice as if it were your food and drink, your bread and water, as if it were a matter of life and death … because it is. Within our relationship to the God of justice and peace, those who dedicate their lives to that struggle, Jesus promises, will be satisfied. It will take a long time, but our nonviolent persistence and truth-telling will eventually win out and bear the good fruit of justice. Truth is on our side; God is on the side of justice.

Sermon for August 25, 2019

Rejected!

Preached by Pastor Matt Braddock

---

Remember Junior High romance? I do. There was a girl. And there was a school dance coming up. Not just any dance – our fist middle school semi-formal dance. I was sure this girl would go to the dance with me. I thought she was pretty and fun. But mostly, I knew she would say yes. So, I did what many self-respecting 6th graders do. I had my best friend to ask the girl if she would go to the dance with me. As I saw it, there was only one slight glitch in my plan. My best friend always tried to convince people that he was a Martian who was left on earth as an orphan child. In hindsight, putting my romantic future in the hands of an orphaned Martian may not have been a good move. We all sat on the bleachers in gym class -- the girl and her friends on one side, my best friend and I on the other. He slid over to her, held up his hand in a sign indicating that he came in peace, and he said some words in Martian. As he said it he pointed at me and smiled. I buried my head in my hands. She looked confused. She apparently did not speak Martian. My best friend then leaned over, cupped his hand over his mouth and whispered something in her ear. She nodded and smiled. My friend quickly shuffled back to me, grinning. She said yes.

That next week, I was so nervous I got sick. My mother and I bought a wrist corsage at the hospital flower shop while visiting a relative. As I picked out my only tie. I knew my date would wear the white dress with the little red polka-dots. It’s the only one I ever saw her wear. I knew it was going to be a good night. Little did I know, It would be my first date with rejection.

We’ve all been there. We’ve all felt the stinging pain of rejection. We’ve been turned down dozens of times. Parents told us no. We’ve been rejected in romance. We have received rejection letters from colleges, or rejection from job applications. Many of us have stifled our life by heeding some misguided critic who implied we were not good enough. Beethoven’s music teacher called him a hopeless composer. Albert Einstein’s parents thought he was sub-normal. At his first dance audition, Fred Astaire was told that he was balding, skinny, and can dance a little. In the dead of night, Charles Dickens sneaked off to mail a manuscript, petrified that his friends would find out and ridicule him. The manuscript was rejected. More rejections pierced him before he won the hearts of millions with classics like Oliver Twist.

Part of what a family is for is to help individuals deal with rejection. A pioneer in family therapy at Chicago Theological Seminary used to say that a family is where you know you will never be turned away; where you will always have a place. Your family is supposed to be the group of people you can count on being on your side. Sometimes we have to find other families when our own doesn’t work. At its best, the Church is a family for us all. And sometimes it does work, at home, the way it is supposed to.

Family is where you know you have a place. The night of my junior High semi-formal, my family dropped me off at the school. I met my date there. She was a vision of beauty in her white dress with red polka dots and red carnation wrist corsage. We went and sat on the bleachers. As soon as the music started, I knew there was going to be trouble. I’ve always been too self-conscious to dance. I think my date wanted to dance, but I was terrified. I just sat on the bleachers and cracked jokes, hoping to compensate for my fear. Finally, she told me that she had to use the ladies room. She went in with a gaggle of her friends. A half hour later, she was still in there. Over the next hour, her friends would run out of the ladies room and ask me what I did to my date. She was in there sobbing out of control. I didn’t do anything. My poor dancing skills certainly should not have made her cry. She never came out of the restroom that night. I found a pay phone and called my parents to pick me up. I held it together until my father came to get me. I jumped into the front seat of his old silver pick-up, slammed the door. All my father had to do is look at me and ask, “What happened?” I cried all the way home that night. I had felt the first sting of rejection, and didn’t know what to do. I was so glad my father came to get me and bring me to the comfort of my home.

Sometimes the best antidote to rejection is a family that knows how to be a family.

Part of what is going in today’s story of Jesus is that outsiders become insiders, and people who should be insiders become outsiders. The people rejected by religion and society get special treatment from Jesus. Pharisees, scribes, religious officials, don’t get it. They won’t budge. They won’t leave the safety of their rules, regulations, and assumptions in order to entertain a new idea.
The most devout, the most committed, the most pious, are the very ones who hound Jesus, question him, accuse him, berate him, oppose him and ultimately kill him. There is an obvious warning here—not to the overt sinners of this world, but to people of faith. The faith community proved to be Jesus’ toughest audience. And the warning to the church today is contained in that deceptively simple but devastating conclusion.

Jesus moved on. He left. He didn’t have time to waste on people so certain of themselves, so rigid, so arrogantly exclusive that they could not hear, let alone believe, the good news of God’s unconditional love.

One of the reasons they rejected Jesus was their own rigid religiosity. But the other reason was that he was just Jesus. He was the carpenter, Mary’s illegitimate son. He didn’t look like a Messiah. He certainly didn’t act like the Messiah they expected. He didn’t look like or sound like a Word from God. He was just Jesus, an ordinary man, their old neighbor. Jesus cannot force them to believe in him or love one another, and so nothing new happens, no miracles, new birth, no Kingdom of God.
The good folk of Nazareth, in order to get it, are going to have to change the way they think. They will have to live more loosely with their traditions and be open to something new as it comes to them in the ordinary . . . the everyday . . . the commonplace.

How easy it is to miss goodness and beauty and truth—because we think we already know where and how to find it.

Martha Beck wrote a book, Expecting Adam: a True Story of Birth, Rebirth and Everyday Magic about the birth of her son, a boy with developmental disabilities. The Beck’s Harvard colleagues advised them to terminate the pregnancy because of the hindrance the child would be to their academic career. But Adam was born and changed the way his parents see life. Martha had to accept Adam’s difficulty in speaking. It was frustrating to him and heart breaking to her. At a particularly low point, she was in the grocery store with both of her children and told them they could each pick out a treat at the candy counter. Katie chose Lifesavers and a chocolate bar. But Adam went to a basket of red rosebuds and picked one out. His mother put it back and said, “No, honey, this isn’t candy—don’t you want candy?” Adam shook his small head, picked the rosebud out again, and placed it on the counter. At home the incident was forgotten.

But the next morning, there Adam was in her bedroom, with the rosebud in a small vase. Martha wrote: “I looked at him in surprise. I didn’t realize that he knew what vases were for, let alone how to get one down from the cupboard, fill it with water, and put a flower in it. “Adam walked over to the bed and handed the rose to me. As he held it out, he said in a clear, loud voice, ‘Here.’”
Sometimes goodness and beauty and truth come to us in unexpected and ordinary ways. Sometimes people close to us—children, parents, teachers, students, tutors, husbands, wives, lovers and friends—convey the truth and grace of God and God’s love in Jesus Christ.

He will be rejected, not only on this day when he read and spoke in the synagogue in his hometown, but officially by his religion and by the Roman governing authorities. He will be rejected dramatically by scribes and Pharisees and Priests and by common people caught up in a public spectacle. He will die alone, publicly humiliated.

He will give new meaning to ancient words written by one of his people centuries earlier—
“He was despised and rejected by others: A man of suffering and acquainted with grief.” (Isaiah 53:3)
It is the deepest mystery of our faith that God’s love was expressed through rejection and crucifixion. It is the deepest mystery of our faith that in his rejection we behold God’s deepest commitment and love for us. Whatever else happens to us, whatever rejections scar our hearts and mark our spirits, we are forever welcome and safe in God’s strong love. “Surely,” the ancient prophet said, “he has borne our infirmities he was wounded for our transgressions and by his bruises—by his rejection—we are healed.”

Sermon for August 11, 2019

It’s Only a Thought

August 11, 2019

A Living Sacrifice to God

And so, dear brothers and sisters, I plead with you to give your bodies to God because of all he has done for you. Let them be a living and holy sacrifice—the kind he will find acceptable. This is truly the way to worship him.*  Don’t copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God’s will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect. Because of the privilege and authority God has given me, I give each of you this warning: Don’t think you are better than you really are. Be honest in your evaluation of yourselves, measuring yourselves by the faith God has given us. Just as our bodies have many parts and each part has a special function, so it is with Christ’s body. We are many parts of one body, and we all belong to each other. In his grace, God has given us different gifts for doing certain things well. So if God has given you the ability to prophesy, speak out with as much faith as God has given you. If your gift is serving others, serve them well. If you are a teacher, teach well. If your gift is to encourage others, be encouraging. If it is giving, give generously. If God has given you leadership ability, take the responsibility seriously. And if you have a gift for showing kindness to others, do it gladly. Don’t just pretend to love others. Really love them. Hate what is wrong. Hold tightly to what is good. Love each other with genuine affection,* and take delight in honoring each other. Never be lazy, but work hard and serve the Lord enthusiastically. Rejoice in our confident hope. Be patient in trouble, and keep on praying. When God’s people are in need, be ready to help them. Always be eager to practice hospitality. Bless those who persecute you. Don’t curse them; pray that God will bless them. Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with each other. Don’t be too proud to enjoy the company of ordinary people. And don’t think you know it all! Never pay back evil with more evil. Do things in such a way that everyone can see you are honorable. Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone. Romans 12.1-18

I am going to ask us to do something most of us try hard not to ever do at church. I want you to take a moment to think of everything that’s weighing on your mind. Make a list. Big or small. What are your distractions and anxieties? What keeps you up at night? Take a minute or two and just brainstorm. And don’t worry, you won’t have to share.

I find when I allow myself to do an exercise like this, I identify worries I didn’t even know I was worried about. It’s amazing how much stuff we carry around with us all the time, isn’t it? It’s a wonder we get anything done at all! The great Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard called worry “the next day”, meaning that we do not know what is going to happen “the next day” and so…we worry! We often try to anticipate all that can go wrong and we make plans to get everything right. Winston Churchhill once said, “When I look back on all these worries, I remember the story of the old man who said on his deathbed that he had had a lot of trouble in his life, most of which had never happened.”

Our tendency toward negative thoughts about the past and future leads to a few difficulties, including:

• We discover emotional pain with negative memories or fears

• We get distracted from the present moment

• Our problem-solving abilities weaken when we over-focus on things outside of our control

Maybe you’ve experienced the difference between healthy and unhealthy worry. Healthy worry is a response to danger. It’s meant to protect us – it makes us run from unsafe situations. Unhealthy worry can’t tell the difference between a real and a perceived threat. Our brains can trick us into F.E.A.R.

Fantasized

Event

Appearing

Real

On a spiritual level, our tendency to worry ourselves through the past and fantasize about a terrible future creates distance between ourselves and God. When we don’t show up for the moment, we are unlikely to notice God with us, right here, right now. In my experience, God tends to speak in the quiet of the heart. A chorus of mental noise about an unpleasant past or a frightening future dilute God’s still small voice.

Just because we feel fear doesn’t mean there is danger. Just because we think something doesn’t mean it’s true. The alternative to the aimless wandering worry is what Romans 12 calls, “the renewing of our minds.” We can be transformed. The Greek word Paul uses here is related to the words metamorphosis and transfiguration. It means to change form -- a complete change from the inside out. It is not a one-time change, but a process in which our lives resemble God’s divine spirit.

In Romans 12:2, Paul’s grammar implies we cannot just transform ourselves. Our minds, our worries, our anxieties, our regrets, our actions – they are all made new with new input. In other words, we don’t get new results by doing the same old stuff.

The process begins with mindfulness. It’s another way of saying deep awareness of the present moment. Instead of worrying about our worries, mindfulness creates curiosity and acceptance about our anxious or wandering thoughts. 

My typical pattern goes like this. A negative thought enters my consciousness, and I begin to worry about it. The thought often comes with some negative voices from the past with messages that want to lock me into my current pattern of responses. I might indulge in some self-soothing behavior to ease the pain. One of my coping mechanisms is binge eating. I indulge the unhealthy worry with unhealthy action. I might feel bad and try to un-think the painful thought– just make it go away. Then what happens? Try it. Try to not think about a purple llama doing cartwheels in front of the sanctuary.

It does not have to be this way. What happens when a negative thought enters my mind and without judging or suppressing it I can say, “Hey, it’s only a thought. I wonder what that’s all about?” I can become curious. I can become present. I can become aware. I might ask: What physical sensations do I notice in my body as I think this—is there muscle tension, a shift in the breath pattern, quickening of the heartbeat, clenching in the gut?  Where do I feel this? How do I want to respond right now? Cry? Eat and drink? Judge? Isolate? Talk it out?

Notice, I did not ask any “why” questions. “Why am I feeling this way? Why did this happen to me?” I did not ask, “What’s wrong with me?” We don’t always know why a thought pops into our heads. Don’t go there.

Remember, I said our minds are made new with new input? Brain research shows that physical neurological changes occur in the brain when we practice mindfulness on a regular basis.  Mindfulness meditation quiets parts of the brain that react to pain and lights up parts of the brain that support happiness.  The brain is constantly rewiring itself. All the negative self-talk that has uniquely wired your brain and guided your worries and your actions for months or even years can change over time. So, don’t believe everything you think. It might not be true. Be patient with yourself. Be curious. Be kind to yourself and the people around you. Open-hearted waiting and gentle speech may enable our minds to re-wire old patterns and use our lives to inspire and uplift others.

Let us end as we began, with a time of silence. As you are willing and comfortable, with eyes closed and in the quiet of this moment, observe whatever arises to take your attention. Just watch it. Let it be. Don’t try to change it or fix it. If you have the urge to change or fix it, observe that desire. The object of your observation can be anything at all. A thought. An idea. A sensation -- something your body feels, something you hear. It can be an urge, a desire, a sense of needing to do something. Just watch the urge. Experience it with loving, non-judgmental, caring attention. Be a quiet presence, like a friend who stays close in silence with a loving attitude, toward your own inner experience …

There is an old, Medieval Christian prayer guide called The Cloud of Unknowing. The anonymous author offers this advice:

“If you want to gather all your desire into one simple word that the mind can retain, choose a short word rather than a long one. A one-syllable word such as ‘God’ or ‘love’ is best. But choose one that is meaningful for you. Then fix it in your mind so that it will remain there come what may. This word will be your defense in conflict and in peace … Should some thought go on annoying you, demanding to know what you are doing, answer with this one word alone. If your mind begins to intellectualize over the meaning and connotations of this little word, remind yourself that its value lies in its simplicity. Do this and I assure you these thoughts will vanish. Why? Because you have refused to develop them with arguing.”

I love that last sentence. Watch your thoughts and feelings, but gently refuse to “develop them with arguing.” They are just thoughts. Without engagement or resistance, these thoughts and urges and feelings will change over time and return into the atmosphere from which they issued forth as you are transformed by the renewing of your mind.

Sermon for June 16, 2016

Pride

The Stonewall uprising, which erupted 50 years ago this month, in the early hours of June 28, 1969 — is a patchwork of accounts. What we know for sure is that the police raided the Greenwich Village gay bar called the Stonewall Inn — and it wasn’t the first time. But this time, patrons had enough. The raid ignited a violent conflict, and then protests, that lasted for days. The lesbian, gay and transgender people who were herded out that night fought back: shoving, punching and throwing stones, bottles and bricks at police officers.

Aside from that, few can agree on almost anything other than that it was a messy evening that accelerated and defined gay rights.

Rising from the Stonewall Resistance, a group called the Gay Liberation Front formed the night of the uprising, and members spoke on the steps of Stonewall the second night. For the next year, they handed out leaflets announcing they were gay. They shared information about medical and legal developments affecting the community. One year after the uprising, the Gay Liberation Front organized the first gay pride march on the street where Stonewall is located, called Christopher Street Liberation Day. Thousands participated, heading straight up Sixth Avenue to the Sheep Meadow in Central Park for a “gay-in.”

In that year between the uprising and the march, they created the first transgender organization and the first L.G.B.T. community center.

And they were done being pushed around or aside by society. As one person said, “We were no longer were professional men and housewives pleading for our rights, we were demanding them. We would no longer let others label us.”

We’ve come a long way since then, I’d like to think. Those of you who attended Capital Pride last weekend went to a joyful celebration. Capital Pride was originally called Gay Pride Day.  The event was initially organized in 1975 by Deacon Maccubbin, owner of Lambda Rising Bookstore. He and his associates hosted the event for the first five years of its existence, until it grew to 10,000 attendees and spread over three blocks. These days, it draws 100,000 people and includes religious groups, and military color guards.

When I came to CCC in 2011, we were involved in making sure that marriage equality became the law of Maryland. There were plenty of defeats early on, but it was thrilling when the law was finally recognized in 2013. It was even more thrilling when the US Supreme Court struck down all state bans on same-sex marriage, legalized it in all fifty states, and required states to honor out-of-state same-sex marriage licenses. It was June 26, 2015.

Looking at LGBT rights these days, it seems to be a good news/bad news situation. The good news: Marriage equality is the law of the land according to the Supreme Court. The bad news: let’s not forget it was an ideologically divided court, and that today’s Supreme Court represents a threat to equality.

The good news: “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” was overturned in 2010. The bad bews: the current presidential administration proposes a transgender ban in the military, which is much worse than the original don’t ask don’t tell policy.

The good news: Last month, the U.S. House of Representatives passed the Equality Act after it was proposed 25 years ago. The Equality Act provides a blanket of protection against discrimination throughout the country. The bad news: until this is passed, only 20 states have outlawed LGBT discrimination. There are still countless states, even today, where one can be fired solely on the basis of being queer.

The good news: we have seen a wider acceptance of same-sex couples in the media and a growing acceptance of the transgender community. The bad news: In 2018, advocates tracked at least 26 deaths of transgender people in the U.S. due to fatal violence, the majority of whom were Black transgender women. Fatal violence disproportionately affects transgender women of color. The intersections of racism, sexism, and transphobia conspire to deprive people of employment, housing, healthcare and other necessities. Members of the LGBTQ community in our country still have to decide where and when it is safe to be out and accepted. There are whole groups of people who have to listen to the biases and misinformation that society communicates to them about their group. People simply can't fight effectively for themselves when they are told that the problem is their own fault or that something is inherently wrong with them.

The truth is, whether it is immigration inequality for same-sex couples, hate crimes, the rights of children of same-sex couples, or queer youth who are at a higher risk of suicidal thinking, members of the queer community face struggles that their straight counterparts simply do not. While coming out can be a source of pride for many, for others, coming out is damaging. Some people lose their families and their jobs.

Religious communities like CCC have a unique stage to bring these issues to light. It is part of our mission to fight bigotry and discrimination with love and understanding. We can fight for our cause while still embodying the same values we are fighting for. For some of us, it means lobbying our political public servants for equality. For others, being loud and making noise for equality is important. And let’s not overlook the fact that just standing in your own truth, in your community, is the most influential way to affect change. I believe that even a community like Silver Spring needs to hear clergy speak out. In our sermons, in public spaces, in off-handed conversations, the community needs to hear clergy support queer rights unequivocally. We have the power to de-stigmatize the words “gay” “lesbian” “Transgender” and “queer” just by our ability to speak them with ease.

It’s easy to think that just because we go to an inclusive church like CCC, other religious groups are also on board with queer rights. The Equality Act I just mentioned has been opposed by The Latter-Day Saints and the U.S. Council of Bishops, with their tired claim that enforcing LGBT Rights compromises religious liberty. A story came out yesterday about a Tennessee minister who preached a sermon calling for the execution of LGBT people. He said, "God has instilled the power of civil government to send the police in 2019 out to the LGBT freaks and arrest them and have a trial for them, and if they are convicted, then they are to be put to death.”

In a rising tide of hatred and isolationism, the power is squarely in our hands to teach that God is synonymous with love, and that the world we believe in, celebrates life and love. There must not be any confusion about whether we are pro-equality. I want everyone in our church, from our infants to our seniors, to know that our Open & Affirming covenant teaches that every soul is made in the image of God and is entitled to the same rights and respect as everyone else.

I believe that a house of worship is where one should bring their most authentic selves. Sexual orientation and gender identity are integral to a person’s understanding of who they are and how they experience the world. We must not ask anyone in our congregations to leave any part of their identity at the door of their church. So, we will continue to provide a spiritual home for the queer community where people’s lives are not merely accepted or welcomed, but celebrated, and our communities will be made stronger in the process.

Let us continue to build communities where people can be proud of who they are – communities our wounds are healed by deliberate listening and non-violent action. We do the work of liberating ourselves from hatred, beginning in the modest places of our longing souls and always reaching out with our words, our actions, our prayers, our love and our hands to all souls – to all souls. This is how we can be made whole again. This is how the world can be made whole again and all her people one.

For my reading today, I picked a quote from the Jewish sages: “You are not expected to complete the task, but neither are you free to desist from it.” The words embody what I think God expects of us. In partnership with God, we endeavor to make the world a more just place for the generations that will succeed us. May we have the strength, patience, love, and forward thinking, to strive to make our world as beautiful, lively, colorful, and diverse… as a rainbow.

SOURCES:

https://www.nytimes. com/2019/06/04/us/stonewall-riots-gay-pride.html

https://rac. org/sample-pride-shabbat-sermon-iii

https://reformjudaism. org/blog/2013/06/19/let-your-sermon-be-your-sword-celebrating-lgbt-pride-month-our-communities

https://www.cnn. com/2019/06/14/us/tennessee-preacher-cop-lgbtq/index.html

Breath of Life, create a spark of light in the hearts of your workers; empower those who strive to dismantle injustice surrounding the LGBTQ community, creating equity in a system of oppression. This month as we celebrate 50 years of PRIDE, renew the passion in us to continue to this holy work of welcome, inclusion, and celebration.

God of grace and mercy. Forgive us of love that is self-satisfied and teach us love that is self- and other-affirming. Forgive us of faith that makes us rush to judgment and give us faith that fills us with compassion. Forgive us of peace we have made with our divisions and unite us in peace that passes understanding.

Hear our groans, Holy Spirit, particularly to make a home in all churches that call themselves the body of Christ for all people. At times we are overwhelmed and hurt by this angry exclusion. At these times let us realize how much more hurt you are.

Today, we also pray for fathers. We honor fathers who have struggled to balance the demands of work, marriage, and children with an honest awareness of both joy and sacrifice. We thank fathers who, lacking a good model for a father, have worked to become a good father. We recognize fathers who by their own account were not always there for their children, but who continue to offer those children, now grown, their love and support. We support fathers who have been wounded by the neglect and hostility of their children.

Let us remember fathers who, despite divorce, have remained in their children's lives.

Let us remember fathers whose children are adopted, and whose love and support has offered healing.

Let us remember stepfathers who freely choose the obligation of fatherhood and earn their stepchildren's love and respect.

Let us remember fathers who have lost a child to death and continue to hold the child in their heart.

Let us remember men who have no children but cherish the next generation as if they were their own.

Let us remember men who have "fathered" us in their role as mentors and guides.

Let us remember men who are about to become fathers; may they openly delight in their children.

And let us praise those fathers who have died but live on in our memory and whose love continues to nurture us.

May all of us, no matter what our place in the cycle of life, experience nurture and love, and may we pass on that love to those we encounter on our own paths.