To all five of my faithful readers: Have a wonderful New Year!
Here is a transcription of my latest "Letter from Home" from my Aunt Georgia:
Dear Matt,
It was nice of you to finally write back to me. You know, most people return letters after a few weeks. It’s called good manners. When you write back it shows that you care enough to think of someone else beside yourself, bless your heart. Even though you can’t manage to write a proper note, I hope you and your family had a good Christmas. I bet your kids was excited to unwrap presents. And if history repeats itself, I bet you took a long nap on Christmas day.
I spent Christmas with Willa Broadfoot and her family. I really shouldn’t call them her family. They aren’t blood family. After she left her husband Roddy a few years back, it came out that Roddy had a first wife that he never told Willa about. And didn’t that just crack her yaller! Her name is Nadine. I guess Roddy met her in his old wild-oat-sowin’ days when he worked as a sheepsherder in Texas. Roddy brought Nadine back up to the Ozarks where they set up a home in Chigger Falls, the county seat. Some people think Nadine is about as strange as a three dollar bill. Roddy left her after she claimed to see Santy Claus on a Christmas many years ago. Roddy claimed she was crazy and dangerous and he left her. Truth was, he was cheating on her with Willa, but neither Nadine nor Willa never knew the truth about each other. Well, one day Willa was shopping in Wal-Mart with Roddy, and as they was turning out of the hunting and camping aisle, they ran into Nadine. Nadine started throwing hugs on Roddy, and Willa couldn’t figure why this strange woman was grabbing at her husband in the test-line aisle. I guess it was all a little awkward. Roddy lives by a simple philosophy: Don’t complain, don’t explain, and for sure, don’t never confess! But standing there with Nadine huggin’ on him and Willa lookin’ on in a disapproving sort of way, Roddy realized that he would be better off trying to cross Hell while walkin’ on quicksand. He finally ‘fessed up and blubbered to Willa that Nadine was his ex-wife. If Willa was shocked, she never showed it. Being a woman of good manners, who always thinks of other people first, she invited Nadine over for coffee the next day while Roddy was at work carving walnut bowls in the factory. They got talkin’ about Roddy, and why he left her.
Well, wouldn’t you know, Willa and Nadine really hit it off. Nadine might be crazy, but she sure is fun. Well, Willa and Roddy eventually split, for reasons I won’t get into right now. But Willa and Nadine stayed friends. We’ve all been meetin’ and eatin’ together on Christmas day now for 15 years. I haven’t seen Santy Claus, but we sure have fun, Willa, crazy Nadine, and me. They invite me, the old widow along out of pity.
Christmas day is the best time of year for us. Dinner is always a turkey. The past few years I’ve brought a roast or ham to eat with it. Nadine’s mom and brother come over with her brother’s three kids. Roddy, the common ex-husband has not been welcome for 5 years now because of past hurts and problems, but this year I think Willa and Nadine may be on the verge of getting past all of that. Roddy and his new girlfriend and her kids may be invited to a New Year’s bash to try to mend some old fences. At Christmas we all converged on Willa’s house like the circus coming to town!!! Then the fun starts. We cook all day, with occasional breaks for beer, tea, stories, and general tomfoolery. We feast on turkey, roast beast, stuffing, sweet potato casserole, green beans, mashed potatoes, gravy, home made cranberry sauce (the canned stuff just won't do), Nadine’s famous Fig Newton salad, fresh rolls, followed by coffee and at least 2-3 desserts. It's generally ready by mid-afternoon, giving us plenty of time to relax for awhile before we start cleaning up the kitchen. Dress is ALWAYS casual. I wear my pants with the elastic stretch waist so’s not to suffocate after dinner.
There are times I really miss your Uncle Slim and the rest of my blood family, you know, my parents and sister, my cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents, and my nieces and nephews. So many are gone now. Died or moved away. I’ve had to learn to find another family out here in the country. After dinner, we're all fat, dumb and happy. Willa’s Christmas tree looks beautiful. We dim the lights so’s the room is lit only by the blinking tree lights. Then we listen to Nadine tell the story of how she saw Santy Claus while we all flop out on the floor, couch, chairs, where ever there's room (and there's not much with that many people so we tend to lay/sit real close to each other). She tells it the same every year:
I tried to wake up Roddy, but he was arranged on the bed like he was sleepin’ the sleep of death. Except he was snorin’ so loud, he could raise the dead. So I took matters into my own hands. I grabbed Roddy’s shotgun and went out the back door of the trailer. I looked up at the roof an’ I'll be darned! There was an old fat man and his munchkin friend climbin' into a big ol’ sled that was hooked up to a bunch of elk or caribou or somethin’. I mean, them suckers was a lot bigger than them stuffed ones that I seen at the Bass Pro museum in Springfield, and their antlers was huge. I think one of 'em might-a-been sick, though, cause his nose was all swollen an’ red. An I’ll be darned if didn’t think, “That big guy and his little friend are trying to rob us.” Jes' as I was raisin' the ol' 12-gauge to draw a bead on ‘em, ol' fatso started a hollerin' at his elks -- "On Dancer an' Prancer an' Donna and Quicken," or somethin' like that, anyhow – an’ then they done started flyin' off my roof!!! Now I ain’t no rocket scientist or nothin’, but I’m a educated lady an’ I know that stuff like that just ain’t s’posed to happen. But sure enough, them dudes was a flyin’ away like it was nothin’. It was a purty amazin’ sight, to tell ya’ the truth. With ol’ fatso an’ the munchkin an’ all them elks all flyin’ away there wasn’t nothin’ much else to see, so I done gone back inside to try to figure this whole situation out. I got to cogitatin’ about it over a glass Pepto Bismal on the rocks and fingered it might be best if I jes’ kept my mouth shut about it to Roddy. I mean, I jes’ fingered that he’d tell me I been drinkin’ too much (not that he don't do that a might already). An’ jes’ as I was figurin’ on convincin’ myself that maybe I jes’ had a little too much Pepto to drink an’ that maybe I jes’ imagined the whole thing, I swear I heard ol’ fatso say somethin’ off in the distance – “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!” That’s when I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. So I woke up Roddy and told him what happened. I guess I spooked him, ‘cuz he left a few weeks later, shakin’ his head and tellin’ folks that I ain’t got all my cups in the cupboard, if you know what I mean.
After hearing the story, and belly laughing for a few minutes, nobody wants to move, but eventually we have to clean that darn kitchen!!! Then we all go home with another day of warm memories to hold in our hearts until the next time. That’s Christmas with my Ozark family. Probably more than you wanted to know but you DID ask when you bothered to write me last.
Of course, we always take time to tell the real story of Christmas. The Bible says in the fullness of time Jesus was born into a difficult world. In other words, at just the right time, when God knew best just what we needed, God sent a Son. Pastor Sanford at the Jerico Springs Progressive Church of the Ozarks teaches that the Jewish people was expecting a Messiah –– someone to rescue the people. They was pregnant with hope that someone would step onto the scene to save them from day-and-night persecution and troubles. I guess it wasn’t easy being a Jew in those days. They was subject to Roman authorities. They was always kept a little bit apart and always treated like second class citizens or outcasts. But their faith told them that it was not always going to be like that and God was in the process of saving the people of Israel. The new Messiah, powerful and strong, would send the Romans running away with their tails between their legs
Can’t you just picture this Messiah? I would doubt that anyone had given much thought to the Messiah’s beginning, and if they had it would be like this: The Messiah would come with an army and wipe out the enemies of God. But God thinks and acts in ways that we can’t even imagine. A little baby to be the Messiah! Who knew? A child who would depend on his mother and father for all of his needs, for life itself, for the first several months of life, as all human babies do? A little ankle-biter who could not even be born in a room of a hotel, but in a barn full of animals?
Jesus came to the low folk. He came to plain ol’ ordinary people, like us. I guess that’s why I like to spend Christmas with run-o-the-mill folk like Willa and Nadine. They remind me of God’s grace. Being with them reminds me that when God sent us Jesus, we also gave us a chance to be part of a new family. Being with Willa and Nadine reminds me that God gave us a chance to forgive one another, and celebrate new life together. I don’t always have to be with my blood family, because God has put me in a new family. You see, Matt, baby Jesus is God’s free gift of love. The Savior was born, lived and died, and rose again so that we might be able to go right up to God and call him our Daddy. That same free gift of love claims each of us as God’s own children. Isn’t that amazing? God calls us part of His family. At times this is still too much to understand. So God sends the Holy Spirit to remind that we are children of God. We are part of the new family.
Anyway, you probably know all this. Send my best to your family from their crazy old Auntie in Jerico Springs.
Love,
Aunt Georgia.
Friday, January 5, 2007
Sermon for Christmas Eve
I stole the idea for this sermon from John Shea, "Have A Defiant Christmas, preached at http://www.csec.org/index.htm.
Some Christmas I am going to send out a Christmas card that will look like this. On the cover there will be three images. The first image will be a star brightly shining but it will be surrounded by darkness. The second image will be an evergreen but it will be surrounded by trees without leaves. The third image will be the traditional one, it will be a child wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger, but the child will be surrounded by a ramshackle stable. When you open the card, it will say in big bold print, “Have a Defiant Christmas!”
I assume my friends and family will call me up and say, “Matt, what is this about?” That will give me a chance to explain my insanity.
The first image is a light shining, but shining in the darkness. I love to drive around and look at Christmas lights. When I lived in Western NY, my favorite display was right across the street. In their yard was a plastic light-up nativity scene – the holy baby, Mary and Joseph. Mary and Joseph’s color was faded, but they still did the job, vigilantly watching the Son of God. Their glowing nativity tableau, however, did not have the usual shepherds and wise men. Instead, the manger was flanked by toy soldiers, Rudolph and Santa. They all looked comfortable together, a mix of Christmas symbols whose garishness caused me to chuckle every year.
You know what else I like to do? I’m going to do it tonight – it’s one of my Christmas traditions. I turn off all the lights in the house. The kids are in bed, the presents are wrapped, and there is nothing else to do but turn on the Christmas tree and watch the lights illumine the silent darkness of our home. Christmas is not just about light. It's about light in the darkness. Like the Gospel of John says, “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness can not overcome it.” Light has defiance as part of its character. It pierces the darkness but the darkness cannot overcome it.
The second picture on my Christmas card is an evergreen tree surrounded by lifeless trees. The image evokes a story from the Cherokee tradition called Why Some Trees are Ever Green. In the beginning the Great Mystery gathers all the plants and animals together, and the Great Mystery wants to give a gift to all the plants and the animals, but the Great Mystery does not know what gift to give to which plants and which trees. The trees and plants are gathered together and the Spirit says, “Try to stay up all night for seven nights.” Well the first night the young plants and trees, even if they wanted to, could not fall asleep. They were so excited. On the second night some dozed off. On the third night, in order to keep awake, the plants and trees began talking to one another. On the fourth, fifth and sixth nights, though, many fell asleep, until finally the Great Mystery arrived on the seventh night. The only plants and the only trees that were awake were the spruce, the fir, the holly and the laurel. The Great Mystery said, “What great endurance you have. Because you have stayed awake, I will give you the gift of being ever green, so that even in the dead of winter, when all the other trees have lost their leaves, your brother and sister creatures can look into your leaves and know that life is protected.”
So it is down to this day. In the dead of this season, when all the other trees lose their leaves, the evergreens stay green and stay awake. The evergreens are defiant. They live and they give us a sense of life.
My third Christmas picture is a child wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger. It is an image of love. The child wrapped in swaddling clothes means that the child is loved. The child is not abandoned, but enfolded and taken care of. The child is laid in a manger, a feeding trough, which symbolizes that this beloved child will be food for the world and give his life to all people. It all happens in a world where there is no room for them at the inn -- in a place where there is no hospitality, where they are not welcomed, where there is rejection. There is a defiance to the love of that baby. His is a love that beckons is from a land that lacks hospitality.
Three images: the light shines but it defies the darkness; the tress is green, but it defies the the death of Winter; the child is beloved but He defies a sense of rejection and inhospitality. I thought with these images on the cover of a Christmas card, people would understand the sentiment, “Have a Defiant Christmas.” But I suppose we really don't want a card like that. We want a card that is all light or all greenness or all love, but I do not think it is always the condition we are in when we celebrate Christmas.
There is a lot of darkness, barrenness and inhospitality in our lives. At Christmas time, we have a chance to defy them. The question is, how do we celebrate in a world that is not perfect? What might we have to do to defy them? Perhaps our health is not good. Maybe the ones you love and care for are failing. Perhaps you are waiting for test results over the holidays. Perhaps our finances are not where they should be. We need more money. Who doesn’t at this season? Maybe some of our relationships are difficult and in need of repair. Perhaps our job is not secure. Will we wait until there is all light, till there is all greenness, until there is only love in order to celebrate? Or can we defy that and celebrate in the midst of darkness and barrenness and lack of hospitality?
It seems to me the Christian tradition is powerfully consistent on this. We proclaim that our souls are deeply united to God. If we can get ourselves in tune with our souls, we may find a place where we can defy all that tries to tear us down and destroy us when the circumstances of our lives that are not completely where we want them to be. The problem is we are often not in touch with this deep, interconnectedness to the God.
There was once a German theologian named Meister Eckhart. He once said that each person has a vintage wine cellar but they seldom drink from it. We have to find the wine cellar in order to drink from it. A man once heard this quote and said to me, “I think I know what you were talking about. Let me tell you my story. I was a school teacher and at Christmas the kids always brought me gifts. They brought them in different types of boxes but after a while I was pretty savvy about what the gifts were. There would be a thin handkerchief box. I knew it was a handkerchief box and so instead of opening it, I usually just put it in the closet and then when I needed a handkerchief, I went and got it and opened it up. Well, one time I needed a handkerchief and I went and opened up a thin handkerchief box but there was no handkerchief inside. Inside instead was an antique pocket watch. I had an antique pocket watch all this time but I didn't know it because it was wrapped in a handkerchief box.”
We all carry treasures around like that in our ordinary lives and average bodies. Don’t be fooled. God’s light is in you. By God’s Spirit, you have the greenness of new life. It defies the adverse circumstances of our lives.
I do not know if I will ever send that Christmas card out. Knowing me, I will probably put it off. In the meantime, I leave you with a blessing this Christmas -- one that was written in 1513 by Fra Giovanni. “I salute you and there is nothing I can give which you have not, but there is much while I cannot give it, you may take it. No heaven can come to us unless we find it in our hearts today. So take heaven. No joy can come to us, unless it comes to us in this present moment. Take joy. No peace can come to us, unless we find it right now. Take peace.” And so at Christmas time, I greet you with the prayer that for you, now and forever, the day breaks and the shadows flee away.
Some Christmas I am going to send out a Christmas card that will look like this. On the cover there will be three images. The first image will be a star brightly shining but it will be surrounded by darkness. The second image will be an evergreen but it will be surrounded by trees without leaves. The third image will be the traditional one, it will be a child wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger, but the child will be surrounded by a ramshackle stable. When you open the card, it will say in big bold print, “Have a Defiant Christmas!”
I assume my friends and family will call me up and say, “Matt, what is this about?” That will give me a chance to explain my insanity.
The first image is a light shining, but shining in the darkness. I love to drive around and look at Christmas lights. When I lived in Western NY, my favorite display was right across the street. In their yard was a plastic light-up nativity scene – the holy baby, Mary and Joseph. Mary and Joseph’s color was faded, but they still did the job, vigilantly watching the Son of God. Their glowing nativity tableau, however, did not have the usual shepherds and wise men. Instead, the manger was flanked by toy soldiers, Rudolph and Santa. They all looked comfortable together, a mix of Christmas symbols whose garishness caused me to chuckle every year.
You know what else I like to do? I’m going to do it tonight – it’s one of my Christmas traditions. I turn off all the lights in the house. The kids are in bed, the presents are wrapped, and there is nothing else to do but turn on the Christmas tree and watch the lights illumine the silent darkness of our home. Christmas is not just about light. It's about light in the darkness. Like the Gospel of John says, “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness can not overcome it.” Light has defiance as part of its character. It pierces the darkness but the darkness cannot overcome it.
The second picture on my Christmas card is an evergreen tree surrounded by lifeless trees. The image evokes a story from the Cherokee tradition called Why Some Trees are Ever Green. In the beginning the Great Mystery gathers all the plants and animals together, and the Great Mystery wants to give a gift to all the plants and the animals, but the Great Mystery does not know what gift to give to which plants and which trees. The trees and plants are gathered together and the Spirit says, “Try to stay up all night for seven nights.” Well the first night the young plants and trees, even if they wanted to, could not fall asleep. They were so excited. On the second night some dozed off. On the third night, in order to keep awake, the plants and trees began talking to one another. On the fourth, fifth and sixth nights, though, many fell asleep, until finally the Great Mystery arrived on the seventh night. The only plants and the only trees that were awake were the spruce, the fir, the holly and the laurel. The Great Mystery said, “What great endurance you have. Because you have stayed awake, I will give you the gift of being ever green, so that even in the dead of winter, when all the other trees have lost their leaves, your brother and sister creatures can look into your leaves and know that life is protected.”
So it is down to this day. In the dead of this season, when all the other trees lose their leaves, the evergreens stay green and stay awake. The evergreens are defiant. They live and they give us a sense of life.
My third Christmas picture is a child wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger. It is an image of love. The child wrapped in swaddling clothes means that the child is loved. The child is not abandoned, but enfolded and taken care of. The child is laid in a manger, a feeding trough, which symbolizes that this beloved child will be food for the world and give his life to all people. It all happens in a world where there is no room for them at the inn -- in a place where there is no hospitality, where they are not welcomed, where there is rejection. There is a defiance to the love of that baby. His is a love that beckons is from a land that lacks hospitality.
Three images: the light shines but it defies the darkness; the tress is green, but it defies the the death of Winter; the child is beloved but He defies a sense of rejection and inhospitality. I thought with these images on the cover of a Christmas card, people would understand the sentiment, “Have a Defiant Christmas.” But I suppose we really don't want a card like that. We want a card that is all light or all greenness or all love, but I do not think it is always the condition we are in when we celebrate Christmas.
There is a lot of darkness, barrenness and inhospitality in our lives. At Christmas time, we have a chance to defy them. The question is, how do we celebrate in a world that is not perfect? What might we have to do to defy them? Perhaps our health is not good. Maybe the ones you love and care for are failing. Perhaps you are waiting for test results over the holidays. Perhaps our finances are not where they should be. We need more money. Who doesn’t at this season? Maybe some of our relationships are difficult and in need of repair. Perhaps our job is not secure. Will we wait until there is all light, till there is all greenness, until there is only love in order to celebrate? Or can we defy that and celebrate in the midst of darkness and barrenness and lack of hospitality?
It seems to me the Christian tradition is powerfully consistent on this. We proclaim that our souls are deeply united to God. If we can get ourselves in tune with our souls, we may find a place where we can defy all that tries to tear us down and destroy us when the circumstances of our lives that are not completely where we want them to be. The problem is we are often not in touch with this deep, interconnectedness to the God.
There was once a German theologian named Meister Eckhart. He once said that each person has a vintage wine cellar but they seldom drink from it. We have to find the wine cellar in order to drink from it. A man once heard this quote and said to me, “I think I know what you were talking about. Let me tell you my story. I was a school teacher and at Christmas the kids always brought me gifts. They brought them in different types of boxes but after a while I was pretty savvy about what the gifts were. There would be a thin handkerchief box. I knew it was a handkerchief box and so instead of opening it, I usually just put it in the closet and then when I needed a handkerchief, I went and got it and opened it up. Well, one time I needed a handkerchief and I went and opened up a thin handkerchief box but there was no handkerchief inside. Inside instead was an antique pocket watch. I had an antique pocket watch all this time but I didn't know it because it was wrapped in a handkerchief box.”
We all carry treasures around like that in our ordinary lives and average bodies. Don’t be fooled. God’s light is in you. By God’s Spirit, you have the greenness of new life. It defies the adverse circumstances of our lives.
I do not know if I will ever send that Christmas card out. Knowing me, I will probably put it off. In the meantime, I leave you with a blessing this Christmas -- one that was written in 1513 by Fra Giovanni. “I salute you and there is nothing I can give which you have not, but there is much while I cannot give it, you may take it. No heaven can come to us unless we find it in our hearts today. So take heaven. No joy can come to us, unless it comes to us in this present moment. Take joy. No peace can come to us, unless we find it right now. Take peace.” And so at Christmas time, I greet you with the prayer that for you, now and forever, the day breaks and the shadows flee away.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Sermon for Dec. 10, 2006, Advent II
Heralds of Jesus
Luke 3:1-6
We begin in the year 587 BC. If we could time travel to Jerusalem, we would see a city ravaged by war. Babylon, the merciless and dominant military power, has captured the King of Jerusalem and his family. One by one, The conquering army slays King Zedekiah’s sons as he is forced to look on. Men and boys are taken to the sanctuary of the Temple and killed. These moment of terror are the last things King Zedekiah sees before soldiers gouge his eyes out. The king and all of the Jewish survivors are shackled and marched across the desert to Babylon as political prisoners. It’s a lampoon of a victory parade as 15,000 prisoners march away from Jerusalem. Most of them will never see their homes again.
Israel’s prophets warned that their defeat was the punishment for Israel’s sin. The leaders hated justice and honesty, and led the people in the worship of the fertility gods of the other nations. God’s patience had run out. Judgment had come.
We don’t know much about what happened to the people of Israel over the next 70 years of exile in Babylon. We assume that the exiles built houses and farms and blended in with the general population. After generations passed, some forgot about their homeland. Yet, some never forgot Jerusalem. They longed for a day when their punishment would be over and God would bring them back to the Promised Land. One of these people was a prophet. Scholars call him “Second Isaiah.” We don’t know his real name or occupation. We only have his message, preserved in chapters 40-59 in the book of Isaiah. His prophecy begins with words of hope: “ ‘Comfort, comfort my people,’ says your God. “Speak tenderly to Jerusalem and proclaim to her that her hard service has been completed, that her sin has been paid for’” (Is 40:1-2).
God promises comfort. No more harsh words of anger and judgment. Now God promises a time when the exiles will return to their land. God will flatten all obstacles like hills, mountains and valleys. The people of Israel will find safety and security in their relationship with God. When that day comes, all who look to God will find salvation.
The Jews did return to the Promised Land, as the prophet foretold. The Persians came to power, conquered Babylon, and the Jews home. God opened a way through impassible forests, broken rocks, and sandy deserts for his people to return from exile.
500 years later, we read about a wild man living in the desert. His name is John. He might be the kind of person whom we wouldn’t want our kids to hang out with. He lives in the desert no man’s land of the Dead Sea. He wears itchy clothes made from camel’s hair, and eats locusts for lunch. I imagine him with long hair, twisted and matted from neglect. In my mind, John has a grizzly beard, and he smells. As he talks, his eyes wildly stab at his listeners. He is the fulfillment of prophecy, this weirdo in the desert. Luke tells us that God chose John to as a herald or forerunner of Jesus. He is the voice crying out the words of Isaiah, “In the wilderness, prepare the way for the Lord.” John preaches repentance and baptism so that all people will be able to recognize the coming salvation that is about to break in upon the world.
John the Baptist’s message is that there is hope in the wilderness. Wilderness is not only found in untamed domains of land. Wilderness is also the bare and threatening place in the hearts of humankind. In the wilderness times of life, we are stripped of comfort and pretense. It is the place where we meet God. I hear John the Baptist saying, “In the barren areas of your life, prepare the way for the coming King. In the frozen muck of your being, in the emptiness that the world has to offer you, get ready to come face-to-face with God’s salvation. The impassable forests of sin are about to be mowed down. The desert areas of dry religion are going to be removed. Everyone now ha a chance to see what God is about to do.”
If we listen, we can still hear the herald call of John today. It says, “Prepare the way for the Lord.” God is going to make a way to enter your life so that you can be transformed by God’s salvation.
We live in a world that needs to know about this saving touch from God. People need to know that there is hope in the wilderness – rescue from spiritual exile. Many of our friends and neighbors suffer in the wilderness areas of life and they need to know that God sends a message of Good News. I’m not just talking about head knowledge about Jesus. I’m sure that most Americans have heard the basics of the Christmas story: the baby, the shepherds, the angels, the manger. But how many hurting people have let the story speak to their souls? How many know that the child born in Bethlehem is also the King of kings and the Lord of lords? The world still needs heralds of Jesus – followers of Christ who go before him to prepare the way.
God can use you a messenger today. The world around you urgently needs men and women who have the courage to say, “No matter what you struggle with God has Good News for you. In the grip of sickness, there can be hope. In the turbulent ride of addiction, there can be peace. In the arbitrary disasters that hit without warning, there can be comfort. For those who go from religion to religion, from spiritual fix to spiritual fix, there is a firm foundation of truth in Jesus the Messiah. In depression, in disappointment, even in death, there is an assurance of new life through Jesus.
I’m not asking you to go to football games wearing John 3:16 placards. I’m not asking you to go knocking on doors or to hand out gospel tracts at the mall. Preparing the way for the Lord is nothing more than finding where people are hurting and offering faith in Christ as a pathway out of the wilderness. It’s all about relationships with one another, and connection with God. What the world needs is people who care enough to make those relationships – people who commit to loving others enough to show them how Jesus can make a positive difference in life. Some will do it like John the Baptist – publicly condemning authorities with brash actions. Others share the news of salvation through gentle words and loving gestures that speak from God’s heart through you. Being a herald means that we reach people where they are, telling them through words and actions that God has a path out of the wilderness. There can be comfort and safety in God’s presence.
Whether you like it or not, your life may be the only Bible some people will ever read. So today, go from here and be Good News. Let your life point to the Truth. Filled with the Holy Spirit, I hope you have the courage to be heralds of Jesus – living and speaking the gospel to a world waiting to see the salvation of God.
Luke 3:1-6
We begin in the year 587 BC. If we could time travel to Jerusalem, we would see a city ravaged by war. Babylon, the merciless and dominant military power, has captured the King of Jerusalem and his family. One by one, The conquering army slays King Zedekiah’s sons as he is forced to look on. Men and boys are taken to the sanctuary of the Temple and killed. These moment of terror are the last things King Zedekiah sees before soldiers gouge his eyes out. The king and all of the Jewish survivors are shackled and marched across the desert to Babylon as political prisoners. It’s a lampoon of a victory parade as 15,000 prisoners march away from Jerusalem. Most of them will never see their homes again.
Israel’s prophets warned that their defeat was the punishment for Israel’s sin. The leaders hated justice and honesty, and led the people in the worship of the fertility gods of the other nations. God’s patience had run out. Judgment had come.
We don’t know much about what happened to the people of Israel over the next 70 years of exile in Babylon. We assume that the exiles built houses and farms and blended in with the general population. After generations passed, some forgot about their homeland. Yet, some never forgot Jerusalem. They longed for a day when their punishment would be over and God would bring them back to the Promised Land. One of these people was a prophet. Scholars call him “Second Isaiah.” We don’t know his real name or occupation. We only have his message, preserved in chapters 40-59 in the book of Isaiah. His prophecy begins with words of hope: “ ‘Comfort, comfort my people,’ says your God. “Speak tenderly to Jerusalem and proclaim to her that her hard service has been completed, that her sin has been paid for’” (Is 40:1-2).
God promises comfort. No more harsh words of anger and judgment. Now God promises a time when the exiles will return to their land. God will flatten all obstacles like hills, mountains and valleys. The people of Israel will find safety and security in their relationship with God. When that day comes, all who look to God will find salvation.
The Jews did return to the Promised Land, as the prophet foretold. The Persians came to power, conquered Babylon, and the Jews home. God opened a way through impassible forests, broken rocks, and sandy deserts for his people to return from exile.
500 years later, we read about a wild man living in the desert. His name is John. He might be the kind of person whom we wouldn’t want our kids to hang out with. He lives in the desert no man’s land of the Dead Sea. He wears itchy clothes made from camel’s hair, and eats locusts for lunch. I imagine him with long hair, twisted and matted from neglect. In my mind, John has a grizzly beard, and he smells. As he talks, his eyes wildly stab at his listeners. He is the fulfillment of prophecy, this weirdo in the desert. Luke tells us that God chose John to as a herald or forerunner of Jesus. He is the voice crying out the words of Isaiah, “In the wilderness, prepare the way for the Lord.” John preaches repentance and baptism so that all people will be able to recognize the coming salvation that is about to break in upon the world.
John the Baptist’s message is that there is hope in the wilderness. Wilderness is not only found in untamed domains of land. Wilderness is also the bare and threatening place in the hearts of humankind. In the wilderness times of life, we are stripped of comfort and pretense. It is the place where we meet God. I hear John the Baptist saying, “In the barren areas of your life, prepare the way for the coming King. In the frozen muck of your being, in the emptiness that the world has to offer you, get ready to come face-to-face with God’s salvation. The impassable forests of sin are about to be mowed down. The desert areas of dry religion are going to be removed. Everyone now ha a chance to see what God is about to do.”
If we listen, we can still hear the herald call of John today. It says, “Prepare the way for the Lord.” God is going to make a way to enter your life so that you can be transformed by God’s salvation.
We live in a world that needs to know about this saving touch from God. People need to know that there is hope in the wilderness – rescue from spiritual exile. Many of our friends and neighbors suffer in the wilderness areas of life and they need to know that God sends a message of Good News. I’m not just talking about head knowledge about Jesus. I’m sure that most Americans have heard the basics of the Christmas story: the baby, the shepherds, the angels, the manger. But how many hurting people have let the story speak to their souls? How many know that the child born in Bethlehem is also the King of kings and the Lord of lords? The world still needs heralds of Jesus – followers of Christ who go before him to prepare the way.
God can use you a messenger today. The world around you urgently needs men and women who have the courage to say, “No matter what you struggle with God has Good News for you. In the grip of sickness, there can be hope. In the turbulent ride of addiction, there can be peace. In the arbitrary disasters that hit without warning, there can be comfort. For those who go from religion to religion, from spiritual fix to spiritual fix, there is a firm foundation of truth in Jesus the Messiah. In depression, in disappointment, even in death, there is an assurance of new life through Jesus.
I’m not asking you to go to football games wearing John 3:16 placards. I’m not asking you to go knocking on doors or to hand out gospel tracts at the mall. Preparing the way for the Lord is nothing more than finding where people are hurting and offering faith in Christ as a pathway out of the wilderness. It’s all about relationships with one another, and connection with God. What the world needs is people who care enough to make those relationships – people who commit to loving others enough to show them how Jesus can make a positive difference in life. Some will do it like John the Baptist – publicly condemning authorities with brash actions. Others share the news of salvation through gentle words and loving gestures that speak from God’s heart through you. Being a herald means that we reach people where they are, telling them through words and actions that God has a path out of the wilderness. There can be comfort and safety in God’s presence.
Whether you like it or not, your life may be the only Bible some people will ever read. So today, go from here and be Good News. Let your life point to the Truth. Filled with the Holy Spirit, I hope you have the courage to be heralds of Jesus – living and speaking the gospel to a world waiting to see the salvation of God.
Sunday, December 3, 2006
Sermon for December 3, 2005
The Days are Coming
Jeremiah 33:14-16
Luke 21:25-36
As we prepare our hearts for Advent, I invite you to listen to the Christmas Story.
“Once upon a time, a decree went out from Caesar in August that everyone should be taxed so that the deficit would not get too big. Joseph and Mary traveled to Bethlehem. Mary rode on a donkey named Rudolph, who was embarrassed to be seen carrying an unwed mother. He blushed so at the thought that his nose glowed red. Upon arriving at Bethlehem, they could not find a place to stay. (It was, after all, the Christmas season, and the press of tourists was crushing.) As they knocked at the door of the last inn in town, the innkeeper pushed back the shutter and threw up the sash. His figure appeared so nimble and quick. They knew in a moment his name must be Nick. Meanwhile in a field nearby, seven dwarfs who were shepherds were startled to hear a group of angels singing Handel's Messiah. At the end of the concert, they were told to stand up and to go to Bethlehem. So off they marched to the beat of their friend, the little drummer boy. When they arrived at the stable, they met Joseph, Mary, the child and a fat little man made famous in song, Round John Virgin.”
Christian Century magazine published this commentary on the secularization of Christmas in 1986. In the article, the author, Michael Martin, asked, “What if most of what people knew of Christmas was what they heard in Christmas songs and in fables told to children? Worst of all, what if all they knew about the Christmas celebration was how we actually live it?” What might the Christmas story sound like if it were told incorporating all the various myths, misunderstandings and attitudes that in fact saturate our celebration?
The author suggests that we mistake the true meaning of Christmas with the "Celebration of Santa Christ," the "Sweet Baby Syndrome," or, possibly, the "Mercantile Messiah Motif." Santa Christ is the jolly god who lives far, far away, and is only mentioned once a year. Actually, all mature people know that he doesn’t really exist; but he’s a convenient excuse for celebration. The prophet Jeremiah would not approve.
The Sweet Baby Syndrome celebrates the lovable infant in his crib, smiling and cooing. He doesn't make any demands on anyone; he just lies there and looks sweet. He spends most of the year in the closet with all the other Nativity scene supplies. But, once a year, we get him out, dust him off and say, “What a sweet baby.” Of course, we always put him back in the closet when the New Year begins. The prophet Jeremiah would not approve.
The Mercantile Messiah proclaims that Christmas is all about giving. “Christmas is all about giving, so let us sell you something that you can give to somebody else,” say the advertisements. What would Jeremiah say?
The problem with Santa Christ, Sweet Baby and the Mercantile Messiah is that they come and go but they never change anyone. They don’t reveal anything about God. They don’t make demands. Jeremiah longed for a different Savior. The text says, “He shall execute righteousness and judgment in the land.” Jeremiah knew that the people needed to inventory their lives and get rid of everything that did not reveal the true nature of God. He proclaimed a costly coming of the Messiah. God says, “The days are coming, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. In those days and at that I will cause a righteous branch to spring up for David, and he will execute righteousness in the Land.”
I invite you to listen to another Scripture reading – This from the mouth of Jesus as told by Luke. His followers ask him about future time of destruction. They want to know what to look for when the end is near. Jesus says, “There will be strange signs in the sun, moon, and stars. And here on earth the nations will be in turmoil, perplexed by the roaring seas and strange tides. People will be terrified at what they see coming upon the earth, for the powers in the heavens will be shaken. Then everyone will see the Son of Man coming on a cloud with power and great glory. So when all these things begin to happen, stand and look up, for your salvation is near!”
Stop for a minute with me and think about it. What does it mean when Jesus says to us that there is a day coming when the Son of Man will come to us in a cloud with power and great glory? What can these words mean in the midst of a busy life, a hectic life, a crazy life?
. . . a life where our kids expect to be driven here and there and ask for things that we just can't afford?
. . . a life where our employers expect us to work overtime,
. . . and our clubs, our church, and our sports teams ask for hours we don’t have?
What do these promises about the future mean when we are caught up in trying to do all we can do right here and now in the present - what do they man when we are struggling to live one day at a time - when we are trying to be all things to all to many people? What do they mean when we watch the news or read the paper and discover that senseless horrors continue throughout the world; that crime and starvation and terrorism and war and earthquakes and floods abound and indeed seen to be increasing?
To me they mean that I should rejoice, that I should stand up and watch and pray.
The promise of Christ is that the future is not going to be like the present. On that day, evil will perish and that a new heaven and a new earth will come upon us – a heaven and earth of everlasting peace and justice, joy and love.
Don’t get so caught up in the worries of this life that you are unprepared for the return of the Savior. Jesus reminds us to be alert to the bigger picture. Understand your place in the greater scheme of things. Be on guard.
Let me ask you, what one or two things do you tend to be so focused on that lose your context? What types of situations flood you with worry and cause your stomach to twist in knots, and your mind to lose perspective on the big picture?
When I was growing up in the 70's and 80's, I was sure I was going to die a slow death from the fallout of a nuclear war. There were two superpowers: the Soviet Union and the United States. We each had nuclear weapons. We each were held back from launching them by the certain knowledge that the other superpower would launch theirs ... but we knew that couldn't last forever. As children, we asked ourselves whether it would be better to try to survive a nuclear blast, or just be at ground zero during the attack. We decided it would be better to be near the blast, so we wouldn’t live to see the aftermath. When I was in high school, there was a television miniseries called The Day After that gave voice to what most people my age believed would happen before we had the chance to see old age. By mistake or intention, someone launches their weapons, and we launch ours, and the world ends -- fire, followed by ice, with famine and unspeakable global destruction.
Our worries may not be on a global scale. The toughest distractions are the personal ones. For instance, sometimes I become so focused on my work, I tend to lose sight of my place in the big picture. I can spend hours before the computer, and then rush around doing visits and getting ready for meetings and then going to them - that I forget what it is that I am proclaiming. I can miss my family’s joys and what it is God is actually doing all around me.
What about you? Do you ever feel lost in today -- lost in the concerns that this moment brings? Has your life been taken over by one worry or another so that you can’t appreciate what else is going on?
Jesus tells us in not to be distracted by the big issues: warfare, floods, famine, and creation seeming to fall apart. They are only signs that point toward a better future. Jesus also reminds us that personal worries can be more distracting than any civil war halfway around the planet. Those personal events are so dangerous because they are subtle and sneaky. We don't realize what is happening until it is too late. All of a sudden, we're trapped, feeling sorry for ourselves, working so hard, being so focused on one thing, that we miss the bigger picture.
That’s why Jesus tells us to be alert. To watch. To not be so caught up in the everyday things that we fail to look down the road and see the presence of God’s Kingdom with all its hope and promise.
Jeremiah and Jesus tell us about the signs of the coming of the kingdom so that we might ready ourselves for it. A righteous Branch has sprouted from David's line; and he will do what is just and right in the land. Look around you and prepare for Jesus to come. Spend this Advent in prayer and in hope, in righteousness and in love, knowing that as so many of promises of God were fulfilled at the birth of Christ, so too the rest will be fulfilled – to his praise and his glory.
Jeremiah 33:14-16
Luke 21:25-36
As we prepare our hearts for Advent, I invite you to listen to the Christmas Story.
“Once upon a time, a decree went out from Caesar in August that everyone should be taxed so that the deficit would not get too big. Joseph and Mary traveled to Bethlehem. Mary rode on a donkey named Rudolph, who was embarrassed to be seen carrying an unwed mother. He blushed so at the thought that his nose glowed red. Upon arriving at Bethlehem, they could not find a place to stay. (It was, after all, the Christmas season, and the press of tourists was crushing.) As they knocked at the door of the last inn in town, the innkeeper pushed back the shutter and threw up the sash. His figure appeared so nimble and quick. They knew in a moment his name must be Nick. Meanwhile in a field nearby, seven dwarfs who were shepherds were startled to hear a group of angels singing Handel's Messiah. At the end of the concert, they were told to stand up and to go to Bethlehem. So off they marched to the beat of their friend, the little drummer boy. When they arrived at the stable, they met Joseph, Mary, the child and a fat little man made famous in song, Round John Virgin.”
Christian Century magazine published this commentary on the secularization of Christmas in 1986. In the article, the author, Michael Martin, asked, “What if most of what people knew of Christmas was what they heard in Christmas songs and in fables told to children? Worst of all, what if all they knew about the Christmas celebration was how we actually live it?” What might the Christmas story sound like if it were told incorporating all the various myths, misunderstandings and attitudes that in fact saturate our celebration?
The author suggests that we mistake the true meaning of Christmas with the "Celebration of Santa Christ," the "Sweet Baby Syndrome," or, possibly, the "Mercantile Messiah Motif." Santa Christ is the jolly god who lives far, far away, and is only mentioned once a year. Actually, all mature people know that he doesn’t really exist; but he’s a convenient excuse for celebration. The prophet Jeremiah would not approve.
The Sweet Baby Syndrome celebrates the lovable infant in his crib, smiling and cooing. He doesn't make any demands on anyone; he just lies there and looks sweet. He spends most of the year in the closet with all the other Nativity scene supplies. But, once a year, we get him out, dust him off and say, “What a sweet baby.” Of course, we always put him back in the closet when the New Year begins. The prophet Jeremiah would not approve.
The Mercantile Messiah proclaims that Christmas is all about giving. “Christmas is all about giving, so let us sell you something that you can give to somebody else,” say the advertisements. What would Jeremiah say?
The problem with Santa Christ, Sweet Baby and the Mercantile Messiah is that they come and go but they never change anyone. They don’t reveal anything about God. They don’t make demands. Jeremiah longed for a different Savior. The text says, “He shall execute righteousness and judgment in the land.” Jeremiah knew that the people needed to inventory their lives and get rid of everything that did not reveal the true nature of God. He proclaimed a costly coming of the Messiah. God says, “The days are coming, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. In those days and at that I will cause a righteous branch to spring up for David, and he will execute righteousness in the Land.”
I invite you to listen to another Scripture reading – This from the mouth of Jesus as told by Luke. His followers ask him about future time of destruction. They want to know what to look for when the end is near. Jesus says, “There will be strange signs in the sun, moon, and stars. And here on earth the nations will be in turmoil, perplexed by the roaring seas and strange tides. People will be terrified at what they see coming upon the earth, for the powers in the heavens will be shaken. Then everyone will see the Son of Man coming on a cloud with power and great glory. So when all these things begin to happen, stand and look up, for your salvation is near!”
Stop for a minute with me and think about it. What does it mean when Jesus says to us that there is a day coming when the Son of Man will come to us in a cloud with power and great glory? What can these words mean in the midst of a busy life, a hectic life, a crazy life?
. . . a life where our kids expect to be driven here and there and ask for things that we just can't afford?
. . . a life where our employers expect us to work overtime,
. . . and our clubs, our church, and our sports teams ask for hours we don’t have?
What do these promises about the future mean when we are caught up in trying to do all we can do right here and now in the present - what do they man when we are struggling to live one day at a time - when we are trying to be all things to all to many people? What do they mean when we watch the news or read the paper and discover that senseless horrors continue throughout the world; that crime and starvation and terrorism and war and earthquakes and floods abound and indeed seen to be increasing?
To me they mean that I should rejoice, that I should stand up and watch and pray.
The promise of Christ is that the future is not going to be like the present. On that day, evil will perish and that a new heaven and a new earth will come upon us – a heaven and earth of everlasting peace and justice, joy and love.
Don’t get so caught up in the worries of this life that you are unprepared for the return of the Savior. Jesus reminds us to be alert to the bigger picture. Understand your place in the greater scheme of things. Be on guard.
Let me ask you, what one or two things do you tend to be so focused on that lose your context? What types of situations flood you with worry and cause your stomach to twist in knots, and your mind to lose perspective on the big picture?
When I was growing up in the 70's and 80's, I was sure I was going to die a slow death from the fallout of a nuclear war. There were two superpowers: the Soviet Union and the United States. We each had nuclear weapons. We each were held back from launching them by the certain knowledge that the other superpower would launch theirs ... but we knew that couldn't last forever. As children, we asked ourselves whether it would be better to try to survive a nuclear blast, or just be at ground zero during the attack. We decided it would be better to be near the blast, so we wouldn’t live to see the aftermath. When I was in high school, there was a television miniseries called The Day After that gave voice to what most people my age believed would happen before we had the chance to see old age. By mistake or intention, someone launches their weapons, and we launch ours, and the world ends -- fire, followed by ice, with famine and unspeakable global destruction.
Our worries may not be on a global scale. The toughest distractions are the personal ones. For instance, sometimes I become so focused on my work, I tend to lose sight of my place in the big picture. I can spend hours before the computer, and then rush around doing visits and getting ready for meetings and then going to them - that I forget what it is that I am proclaiming. I can miss my family’s joys and what it is God is actually doing all around me.
What about you? Do you ever feel lost in today -- lost in the concerns that this moment brings? Has your life been taken over by one worry or another so that you can’t appreciate what else is going on?
Jesus tells us in not to be distracted by the big issues: warfare, floods, famine, and creation seeming to fall apart. They are only signs that point toward a better future. Jesus also reminds us that personal worries can be more distracting than any civil war halfway around the planet. Those personal events are so dangerous because they are subtle and sneaky. We don't realize what is happening until it is too late. All of a sudden, we're trapped, feeling sorry for ourselves, working so hard, being so focused on one thing, that we miss the bigger picture.
That’s why Jesus tells us to be alert. To watch. To not be so caught up in the everyday things that we fail to look down the road and see the presence of God’s Kingdom with all its hope and promise.
Jeremiah and Jesus tell us about the signs of the coming of the kingdom so that we might ready ourselves for it. A righteous Branch has sprouted from David's line; and he will do what is just and right in the land. Look around you and prepare for Jesus to come. Spend this Advent in prayer and in hope, in righteousness and in love, knowing that as so many of promises of God were fulfilled at the birth of Christ, so too the rest will be fulfilled – to his praise and his glory.
Friday, December 1, 2006
Sermon for November 26, 2006 -- Christ the King
Serving the King
Revelation 1:4b-8 / John 18:33-37
When you think of Jesus - what image or metaphor do you comes to mind? Sometimes I think of Jesus as my brother and my friend -- someone who walks the journey of life with me, someone who talks with me and counsels me on the way, someone to whom it’s comfortable to talk and share life.
When you think of Jesus - what image or metaphor do you most often use? Some people think of Jesus as the good shepherd -- as one who guides and leads -- as the gentle savior who seek out the lost and injured sheep and carries the wounded and the lame on his shoulders till they are safe back in the fold.
What image do you have of Christ? How about Jesus as King? We don’t talk about that one much. Today we celebrate Christ as King. When I think about kings, here’s what comes to my mind:
« fairy-tale kings: benevolent, often dead, with a wicked queen
« king of the hill: the game where the strongest pushes everyone else off the hill
« “king me” -- checkers king jumps in all directions, taking over and winning
« The King - Elvis Presley - of which no more needs to be said
« the king in the “Wizard of Id - a self-centered bumbling dictator
« king o' the road - a wanderer with no cares
« A chess king - one of limited movement and power to protect
« Burger King – the only place on earth where you can have it your way.
Think about your images of Jesus and kings as we listen to an event from the life of Jesus as recorded in the Gospel of John.
John 18:33-37
Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, ‘Are you the King of the Jews?’ Jesus answered, ‘Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?’ Pilate replied, ‘I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?’ Jesus answered, ‘My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.’ Pilate asked him, ‘So you are a king?’ Jesus answered, ‘You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.’ (NRSV)
Let’s try to place ourselves in the year 31 AD. We are in Jerusalem in the Roman province of Palestine. In the eyes of Rome, this is a small but troubled land. The Emperor Tiberius has placed 500 Roman soldiers in the area under the full command of a governor named Pontius Pilate. It’s his sole duty to keep this tiny province under control at all costs. Pilate is an effective peacekeeper, but he is unpopular with the Jews in the area.
Whenever Pilate marches into Jerusalem, his guards carry Roman flags, topped off with a bust of the emperor, whom the Romans viewed as a god. The Jews consider this idolatry. They have asked Pilate to remove this image of the emperor before he enters the city -- not an outrageous request. Other governors had done it in the past. But Pilate refuses to pander to the superstitions of the Jews. Once day, when Pilate left Jerusalem for his palace in Ceasarea, a number of enraged Jews followed him home. Pilate evaded them for five days. Finally, he told the Jews to meet him in the amphitheater. The Jews arrived to the drawn swords of Roman soldiers. Pilate ordered the Jews to either withdraw their requests or be killed immediately. The Jews bared their necks, tempting the soldiers to strike. Not even Pilate could massacre these defenseless men. From that point on, the Jews knew Pilate could be manipulated to follow their will.
In another incident, Pilate took money from the treasury of the Jewish Temple to build an aqueduct. The people resented it and rioted through the streets. Pilate dressed his soldiers in civilian clothes and gave them concealed weapons before sending them into the surging crowds. At a given signal, the soldiers attacked the mob, stabbing and clubbing many Jews to death.
Once again, Pilate straddles Roman custom and Jewish law. Before him sits a Jewish prisoner from Galilee named Jesus. Religious leaders accuse the man of calling himself the King of the Jews, and they demand his execution. Pilate doesn’t have time to bother with these nagging people, so he gets right to the point and asks the prisoner, “Are you the king of the Jews?” The man calmly responds with another question. “Is that your own idea, or did you hear others saying that?” This upsets Pilate. He’s supposed to be asking the questions, and now this criminal is putting him on trial. “Am I a Jew?” Pilate cries. “Your people handed you over to me, not the Romans. What did you do, anyway?” The accused man is silent for a moment, then he answers the first question. “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest, but my kingdom is of another place.” Pilate thinks this is so strange. The criminal is not really defending himself. “So, are you a king then?” Pilate asks. Jesus replies, “You could say it that way. I was born for a reason–to come into the world to testify to the truth.” Pilate is getting confused. The prisoner is obviously not a military king, but he is still claiming to be a ruler. Pilate’s verdict: this man is harmless. He might be slightly crazy, but he’s innocent. He poses no political threat to the Roman Empire. Unfortunately, like most of his decisions, his choice to release Jesus will only make more trouble with the Jewish leaders. Pilate will ultimately cave into their demands and have Jesus put to death.
In this scene, Pilate is confronted with the true nature of Jesus’ kingdom. Jesus’ kingdom doesn’t fall within geographical or political boundaries. He has no soldiers to fight for him. Jesus is not a national hero. He doesn’t tame his subjects with force or manipulation. The kingdom of Jesus is different. King Jesus persuades men and women to follow him in spirit and in truth. Christ the King rules with love, and asks his subjects to love God and one another in return. In his kingdom, people relate to one another as servants. King Jesus rules the human heart and conquers the world with love, one single person at a time.
In one brief encounter, Pilate faced the reality of Christ’s kingdom. And Pilate has some choices to make. He can declare him an innocent man and let Jesus go free. Or, Pilate can accept the reality of Jesus’ words. He can allow the kingdom of Christ to do its transforming work of love in his own heart.
In the end, Pilate doesn’t make a decision for or against Jesus. He tries to remain neutral. He allows others to decide for him. Pilate will not even face the invitation of Jesus. He hides behind a compromise. First, he offers the Jews a choice–release Barabbas the insurrectionist or Jesus. When that doesn’t work, he has Jesus whipped and publicly humiliated, hoping that will meet the crowd’s taste for violence. This too fails. And with that failure comes Pilate’s fall from neutrality. Pilate fails to hear the truth, and orders the execution of Jesus, knowing the whole time that this King of the Jews is an innocent man. By the world’s standards Pilate was a successful man. He had made it to the top of civil service. Yet, here in the presence of this simple, disturbing Galilean, Pilate fails to see and accept the truth of Jesus.
History judges Pontius Pilate harshly. He was not necessarily an evil man. He had ambitions, and he misused his power. In the end, he was just an ordinary man. Perhaps we are more like Pontius Pilate than we care to admit. Like Pilate, we have goals and ambitions. Most of us are ordinary people. Today we come face-to-face with the simple honesty of Jesus Christ–the divine Lord who sits before us, inviting us allow him to rule the domain of our heart. He’s not going to force his way in. He’s not going to manipulate us or give us a guilt trip. He’s not going to play games in order to win our devotion. He simply presents us with the truth and waits for us to make a decision.
Like Pilate, we can stay neutral as we avoid Christ’s request to be in control of our hearts. We can choose to see Jesus as a harmless person who has no effect on our spirits. We can ask, “Jesus, are you a king?” but close our ears to his answer. We can see him as some great historical figure who has no impact on our lives today. But when it comes to Jesus, I have learned an important lesson: there is no neutrality. Being uninvolved only puts off the day when you will have to decide–are you part of Christ’s rule on earth, or are you working against it?
It sounds confrontational, but this is exactly what I have found so encouraging in my own life. Jesus loves us. He wants to be part of our lives. He is our sovereign leader and he calls each one of us to be a servant. I made a decision 18 years ago that changed my life. I said “yes” to Jesus and asked him to govern my life. Each day I get up and try to align my choices with what God wants from my life. Sometimes I don’t do very well. On a good day I take time to ask, “How can I serve the aims of your kingdom, Jesus? How can I yield my own will and my own desires to what you have planned for me today?” When I take time to be aware of God’s presence, I find that God usually sends someone into my life: someone who needs help, someone who needs to talk, someone who needs to be connected with the truth of the gospel, or someone to encourage me. It’s demanding work. It’s not something I do because I’m a minister. It’s what I do as an inhabitant of the Kingdom of God.
Jesus is our King. He is Lord of all. We don’t vote Jesus in by popular election. We don’t hold a convention to nominate him to the position. God has made him our leader. Jesus rules forever and ever. And one day, like it or not, every nation, every state, every individual person will see Jesus as he really is, The Christ, King of kings and Lord of lords, the Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the one who is, who always was, and who is still to come.
Is Jesus the sovereign Ruler of your life? Do you find you are part of Christ’s growing kingdom, or are you working against it by resisting his new government? Jesus calls us to hear, to decide, and to follow.
Revelation 1:4b-8 / John 18:33-37
When you think of Jesus - what image or metaphor do you comes to mind? Sometimes I think of Jesus as my brother and my friend -- someone who walks the journey of life with me, someone who talks with me and counsels me on the way, someone to whom it’s comfortable to talk and share life.
When you think of Jesus - what image or metaphor do you most often use? Some people think of Jesus as the good shepherd -- as one who guides and leads -- as the gentle savior who seek out the lost and injured sheep and carries the wounded and the lame on his shoulders till they are safe back in the fold.
What image do you have of Christ? How about Jesus as King? We don’t talk about that one much. Today we celebrate Christ as King. When I think about kings, here’s what comes to my mind:
« fairy-tale kings: benevolent, often dead, with a wicked queen
« king of the hill: the game where the strongest pushes everyone else off the hill
« “king me” -- checkers king jumps in all directions, taking over and winning
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Think about your images of Jesus and kings as we listen to an event from the life of Jesus as recorded in the Gospel of John.
John 18:33-37
Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, ‘Are you the King of the Jews?’ Jesus answered, ‘Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?’ Pilate replied, ‘I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?’ Jesus answered, ‘My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.’ Pilate asked him, ‘So you are a king?’ Jesus answered, ‘You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.’ (NRSV)
Let’s try to place ourselves in the year 31 AD. We are in Jerusalem in the Roman province of Palestine. In the eyes of Rome, this is a small but troubled land. The Emperor Tiberius has placed 500 Roman soldiers in the area under the full command of a governor named Pontius Pilate. It’s his sole duty to keep this tiny province under control at all costs. Pilate is an effective peacekeeper, but he is unpopular with the Jews in the area.
Whenever Pilate marches into Jerusalem, his guards carry Roman flags, topped off with a bust of the emperor, whom the Romans viewed as a god. The Jews consider this idolatry. They have asked Pilate to remove this image of the emperor before he enters the city -- not an outrageous request. Other governors had done it in the past. But Pilate refuses to pander to the superstitions of the Jews. Once day, when Pilate left Jerusalem for his palace in Ceasarea, a number of enraged Jews followed him home. Pilate evaded them for five days. Finally, he told the Jews to meet him in the amphitheater. The Jews arrived to the drawn swords of Roman soldiers. Pilate ordered the Jews to either withdraw their requests or be killed immediately. The Jews bared their necks, tempting the soldiers to strike. Not even Pilate could massacre these defenseless men. From that point on, the Jews knew Pilate could be manipulated to follow their will.
In another incident, Pilate took money from the treasury of the Jewish Temple to build an aqueduct. The people resented it and rioted through the streets. Pilate dressed his soldiers in civilian clothes and gave them concealed weapons before sending them into the surging crowds. At a given signal, the soldiers attacked the mob, stabbing and clubbing many Jews to death.
Once again, Pilate straddles Roman custom and Jewish law. Before him sits a Jewish prisoner from Galilee named Jesus. Religious leaders accuse the man of calling himself the King of the Jews, and they demand his execution. Pilate doesn’t have time to bother with these nagging people, so he gets right to the point and asks the prisoner, “Are you the king of the Jews?” The man calmly responds with another question. “Is that your own idea, or did you hear others saying that?” This upsets Pilate. He’s supposed to be asking the questions, and now this criminal is putting him on trial. “Am I a Jew?” Pilate cries. “Your people handed you over to me, not the Romans. What did you do, anyway?” The accused man is silent for a moment, then he answers the first question. “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest, but my kingdom is of another place.” Pilate thinks this is so strange. The criminal is not really defending himself. “So, are you a king then?” Pilate asks. Jesus replies, “You could say it that way. I was born for a reason–to come into the world to testify to the truth.” Pilate is getting confused. The prisoner is obviously not a military king, but he is still claiming to be a ruler. Pilate’s verdict: this man is harmless. He might be slightly crazy, but he’s innocent. He poses no political threat to the Roman Empire. Unfortunately, like most of his decisions, his choice to release Jesus will only make more trouble with the Jewish leaders. Pilate will ultimately cave into their demands and have Jesus put to death.
In this scene, Pilate is confronted with the true nature of Jesus’ kingdom. Jesus’ kingdom doesn’t fall within geographical or political boundaries. He has no soldiers to fight for him. Jesus is not a national hero. He doesn’t tame his subjects with force or manipulation. The kingdom of Jesus is different. King Jesus persuades men and women to follow him in spirit and in truth. Christ the King rules with love, and asks his subjects to love God and one another in return. In his kingdom, people relate to one another as servants. King Jesus rules the human heart and conquers the world with love, one single person at a time.
In one brief encounter, Pilate faced the reality of Christ’s kingdom. And Pilate has some choices to make. He can declare him an innocent man and let Jesus go free. Or, Pilate can accept the reality of Jesus’ words. He can allow the kingdom of Christ to do its transforming work of love in his own heart.
In the end, Pilate doesn’t make a decision for or against Jesus. He tries to remain neutral. He allows others to decide for him. Pilate will not even face the invitation of Jesus. He hides behind a compromise. First, he offers the Jews a choice–release Barabbas the insurrectionist or Jesus. When that doesn’t work, he has Jesus whipped and publicly humiliated, hoping that will meet the crowd’s taste for violence. This too fails. And with that failure comes Pilate’s fall from neutrality. Pilate fails to hear the truth, and orders the execution of Jesus, knowing the whole time that this King of the Jews is an innocent man. By the world’s standards Pilate was a successful man. He had made it to the top of civil service. Yet, here in the presence of this simple, disturbing Galilean, Pilate fails to see and accept the truth of Jesus.
History judges Pontius Pilate harshly. He was not necessarily an evil man. He had ambitions, and he misused his power. In the end, he was just an ordinary man. Perhaps we are more like Pontius Pilate than we care to admit. Like Pilate, we have goals and ambitions. Most of us are ordinary people. Today we come face-to-face with the simple honesty of Jesus Christ–the divine Lord who sits before us, inviting us allow him to rule the domain of our heart. He’s not going to force his way in. He’s not going to manipulate us or give us a guilt trip. He’s not going to play games in order to win our devotion. He simply presents us with the truth and waits for us to make a decision.
Like Pilate, we can stay neutral as we avoid Christ’s request to be in control of our hearts. We can choose to see Jesus as a harmless person who has no effect on our spirits. We can ask, “Jesus, are you a king?” but close our ears to his answer. We can see him as some great historical figure who has no impact on our lives today. But when it comes to Jesus, I have learned an important lesson: there is no neutrality. Being uninvolved only puts off the day when you will have to decide–are you part of Christ’s rule on earth, or are you working against it?
It sounds confrontational, but this is exactly what I have found so encouraging in my own life. Jesus loves us. He wants to be part of our lives. He is our sovereign leader and he calls each one of us to be a servant. I made a decision 18 years ago that changed my life. I said “yes” to Jesus and asked him to govern my life. Each day I get up and try to align my choices with what God wants from my life. Sometimes I don’t do very well. On a good day I take time to ask, “How can I serve the aims of your kingdom, Jesus? How can I yield my own will and my own desires to what you have planned for me today?” When I take time to be aware of God’s presence, I find that God usually sends someone into my life: someone who needs help, someone who needs to talk, someone who needs to be connected with the truth of the gospel, or someone to encourage me. It’s demanding work. It’s not something I do because I’m a minister. It’s what I do as an inhabitant of the Kingdom of God.
Jesus is our King. He is Lord of all. We don’t vote Jesus in by popular election. We don’t hold a convention to nominate him to the position. God has made him our leader. Jesus rules forever and ever. And one day, like it or not, every nation, every state, every individual person will see Jesus as he really is, The Christ, King of kings and Lord of lords, the Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the one who is, who always was, and who is still to come.
Is Jesus the sovereign Ruler of your life? Do you find you are part of Christ’s growing kingdom, or are you working against it by resisting his new government? Jesus calls us to hear, to decide, and to follow.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Two Sermons -- Nov. 12 & 19
I was lazy and forgetful last week -- so here are two sermons at once -- a two-part series from the Book of Esther. Your feedback is usually appreciated.
When God is Silent
Esther 1:9-2:18
November 12, 2006
I hear the same questions in my office all the time. “Where was God?” “How could any God let this happen?” 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 cancer? Why do few get fed 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. And for everyone who died in that attack, why do dozens more die throughout the world because of the terrorist whims of evil people?
Then there are the events that hit us in the gut–the personal events that cause us to questions God. People come to me and want to know WHY God didn’t protect them from the assaultive 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 such senseless things as spilling her milk; the little boy who was scared to death of his violent father, the family who lost a loved one to suicide or a fatal accident. Have you ever been through a time in your life when you needed a sign from God, and you got nothing? You yearned for one moment when God would show up, change life around, bring some comfort and justice, and all you heard was silence?
I wonder if the characters from the Book of Esther struggled with the silence of God. The book of Esther has a problem. God is never mentioned. We read the Bible to learn about God’s relationship with creation, and there is not one mention of God in the entire book. Martin Luther did not Esther included in the canon of Scripture. He said, “I am so great an enemy to the second book of the Maccabees, and to Esther, that I wish they had not come to us at all, for they have too many heathen unnaturalities.” The whole book could be taken as nothing more than chance and luck. A literary tale of how a young Jewish orphan just happens to become queen and save her people because she’s in the right place at the right time to.
The book begins on a whim of a king. King Ahasuerus gives a great banquet for all the leading officials and dignitaries of his kingdom. After much revelry, the king orders for his queen, Vashti, so he can show her off. Vashti refuses. In a fit of drunken rage, Ahasuerus, divorces her to set an example that wives are to obey their husbands. After he sobers up and cools down, he realizes that he had no queen. The divorce cannot be reversed, so the search begins for a new queen. All the beautiful young virgins in the provinces are brought into the harem so that the next queen can be found. One of the virgins is Esther, a Jewish orphan who’s being raised by her cousin Mordecai.
Esther is probably a teenager, no older than 16. Ripped out of the only life she knew by the whim of an impulsive king, Esther begins a year of preparation for her one night with the king. She is one harem girl in the middle of harem that likely numbered in the 1000s. She would probably spend one night with the king then be sent to the house of the concubines where she would live out the rest of her life alone and with no purpose, unless the king called her again. When her night came Esther went to the king. In the first coincidence of the book she found favor with Ahasuerus who made her queen. Shortly after this, coincidence number two happened: Cousin Mordecai finds out about an assassination plot and warns Esther who tells the king. The royal servants who planned the assassination are put to death. Later, a man named Haman rises to power and becomes the prime minister of the empire -- second only to the king. All of the king’s servants bow when Haman enters the court – all except Mordecai. Infuriated that Mordecai will not worship him, Haman plots to kill not only Mordecai, but also his whole race, the Jews.
A decree is sent to all the provinces and the Jews immediately begin to mourn. Mordecai mourns in front of the king’s gate in sackcloth and ashes. When Esther finds Mordecai, she has no idea what’s going on. Mordecai tells her about the decree and urges her to go to the king and intercede for her people. Esther won’t do it. She is afraid of the king. Anyone who goes to the king without being called can be killed. This is the king who got rid of his first queen on a whim. This king commanded that the engineers of a bridge he was building be thrown off the end of the bridge when they fell behind due to a horrible storm. When a father requested this king not to send his last son off to war, Ahasuerus commanded the last son be killed in front of the father, then had the father blinded so that the last thing he saw was his dead son. This was the king Esther was going to, without an invitation.
Mordecai reminds her that her position as queen will not protect her from the edict. Then he prods her: “Who knows? May be that is why you are here.” Who knows? maybe all of these coincidences happened for such a time as this. Esther agrees. She will go to the king–even if it cost her life. She will appeal for the life of her people.
I’ll tell the rest of the story next week. Let’s stop here and think for a moment. What stands out most about Esther is the fact God is never mentioned. It is truly a book of coincidences. That is why we need Esther. To often we think that just because there is no obvious working of God in the world that God is not working. Maybe that’s why we need the book of Esther in the Bible.
We need reminders that God’s presence in our world is not always obvious—even to those in the church. There are times in life when we wonder where God is. The book of Esther reminds me that we don’t have to be passive victims of the world’s evil. We don’t have to be scared into stunned silence as we wait for God to show up and save us.
In times of darkness, we are tempted to pull back from others, to 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, like Esther. Peacemakers are people who heal by pulling close instead of tearing apart. Peacemakers are people who get in touch with their own pain and disappointment with God, and then reach out to others who suffer.
Let me tell you about some a peacemaker. A girl grew up in a troubled family and suffered through weariness and depression. At 16 years she was wed in an arranged marriage. The marriage was not a happy one. The husband was a faithless, violent spendthrift who made his wife miserable. She spent the first five years of her marriage in silent, melancholy submission to her husband. For ten years the woman alternated between withdrawal and social activity; there were no children, although her husband had at least one child by a mistress. Then the wife experienced a religious conversion. At about the same her husband became bankrupt. The woman began a life of humble of social work---going into the city’s slums to help the sick poor. Eventually her husband gave his life to God and helped his wife minister to the poor. They moved into the slums and worked there, without pay. Three years later, the plague came to the city, killing 80% of those who lived there. The wife supervised those who cared for the dying. In the year 1496 her husband died and the wife continued working full time until her health began to fail. She died in 1510, worn out with labors of body and soul, and consumed, even physically, by the fires of Divine love within her. The woman’s name was Catherine. She is known in the church today as Catherine of Genoa. This is a woman who faced evil. She knew suffering and pain. At one point in her life she asked the Lord, “Why, Jesus, is there so much pain on earth? Why do people have to suffer?” And Jesus said back to her, “Catherine, if there were any other way, I would have thought about it a long time ago.” It seems that there is no other way to learn how to let go and to learn compassion. There is no other way that we can learn our limits and rely on God and others. Peacemaking is born our of suffering.
The other day I was talking with a Muslim friend who told me that in Islam, silence means acceptance. I think he’s right. Maybe God is silent because we are silent. Maybe God sometimes stays behind the scenes because God’s waiting for you and me to step up to such a time as this. Perhaps God speaks when we are filled with boldness and courage and take a stand against evil. Perhaps God speaks through the peacemakers.
If you see hunger, don’t shrug your shoulders and think about how terrible it is. Silence is acceptance. Buy some food, or give some of your own, to our collection for St. Luke’s pantry. Educate yourself about public policy. Did you know that nutrition and welfare programs together amount to only 3% of the federal budget? Foreign aid is less than 1%. Join the One Campaign or Bread for the World.
If you don’t like the current war, don’t wallow in your frustration. Silence is acceptance. Contact your representatives and let them know how you feel. Send care packages to troops. Disarm yourself from that which divides and dominates. Experiment with putting on the armor of God. Wrap truth around your waist and put on just actions like a Kevlar vest. Lace up your boots that prepare you to do the work of peace. Carry the defense system of your faith to protect you from the missiles of sin. Put on the helmet of God’s wisdom. And carry no weapon but the word of God. And pray.
If you don’t like what we are doing to our earth, then do something. Silence is acceptance. Measure your ecological footprint – inventory your lifestyle. Recycle more. Coordinate a drive for unusual recyclable materials. Conserve natural resources. Fall back in love with nature, and tell others about what you experience. If everyone were to make an effort to make even small changes, the impact could be great.
Did you know that 600,000-800,000 were trafficked as human slaves last year? 80% were female and 70% were trafficked for human exploitation – it’s the international business of rape and profit. Doesn’t that make you mad? Silence is acceptance. Donate your services to an anti-trafficking agency. Pray for victims and perpetrators. Use your influence in your circle of family and friends to raise awareness. Provide advocacy and intervention for slaves.
How about something closer to home – like poverty. The cure for poverty is for people to do something. Silence is acceptance. Volunteer at a street ministry or homeless shelter. Go volunteer with someone like Sr. Theresa in Bridgeport. Help build homes with Habitat for Humanity.
You get the idea. God is not silent. When evil abounds, God compels peacemakers to step up and speak. Still yearning for that one moment when God will show up, change life around, bring some comfort and justice. Maybe all you hear is silence. We can’t expect God do perform a miraculous intervention while we sit back and wait. God chooses you for such a time as this.
Holy Disobedience
Esther 7:1-10; 9:20-22
November 19, 2006
Last week we learned about Esther, a Jewish teenager who becomes the queen of Persia. King Ahasuerus chose her his new queen during a beauty pageant. Esther was raised by her cousin. His name is Mordecai. And then there is the bad guy of the story. His name is Haman. Haman is the king’s right-hand man, and he has an ongoing feud with Mordecai. Haman convinced the King that Mordecai and all of the Jews were plotting to overthrow the King’s authority. Haman convinced the King to set a date for the extermination of the Jews. The King had no idea that his new queen, Esther, was also a Jew. He sent a decree to all the provinces of the empire and the Jews immediately began to mourn. Esther had no idea about the edict. Mordecai told her about the decree and urged her to go to the king and intervene for her people. Esther was afraid to do it. She was afraid of the king. Anyone who went to the king without a summons could be killed. Mordecai reminded her that her position as queen would not protect her from the edict. Then he prodded her: “Who knows? May be that is why you are here.” Esther agreed. She would go to the king–even if it cost her life. She would appeal for the life of her people.
This is where we left off last week. Let me tell you the rest of the story. There is a Greek version of the story that has some verses not found in the Hebrew. It says: “In making her state appearance, after invoking the all-seeing God and savior, she took with her two maids; on the one she leaned gently for support ...while the other followed her, bearing her train. She glowed with the perfection of her beauty and her face was as joyous as it was lovely, though her heart shrunk with fear. As the king looked up, his features ablaze with the height of majestic anger, the queen staggered, changed color, and leaned weakly against the head of the maid in front of her. But God changed the king's anger to gentleness. In great anxiety, he sprang from his throne, held her in his arms until she recovered, and comforted her with reassuring words. "What is it Esther?" he said, " Take courage! You shall not die because of this general decree of ours. Come near!" Raising the golden scepter, he touched her neck with it, embraced her, and said, "Speak to me"
Instead of punishing her, the king is pleased to see her. Approaching the king, invites the king and Haman to a dinner party. When Haman finds out about the special invitation, he is in high spirits – until he sees his enemy Mordecai. At the very sight of Mordecai, Haman fills with rage. When Haman gets home, he complains about Mordecai to his family and friends. They suggest that he build gallows and request Mordecai be hung on it the next day.
That night, the king has insomnia. He orders a servant to read the book of the record of his reign. The servant reads the account of Mordecai – about how Mordecai saved the king’s life from a death threat. The king realizes that Mordecai has not been rewarded. At that moment, Haman enters the court, ready to tell the king about his plan to hang Mordecai on the gallows. However, before Haman can open his mouth, the king says, “Haman, what do you think I should do for a man I wish to honor?” Haman is thrilled. He thinks the king wants to reward HIM for his service. Haman says, “King, you should have a parade. Put your clothes on the man, sit him on a horse that you have ridden. Set a crown on his head, and have a prince lead him through the streets proclaiming that this is what happens for the man whom the king wishes to honor.” The king loves the idea and orders Haman to do this for Mordecai. Haman does as commanded then runs home humiliated to prepare for Queen Esther’s dinner banquet.
At the banquet, Esther presents her case to the king. She pleas for the life of her people whom Haman would have executed. On finding out Haman’s plot, the king leaves the room. When he returns, he finds Haman on the queen’s couch pleading for his life. Ahashuerus accuses Haman of assaulting the queen, and in an ironic twist, Haman is taken away to hang on the gallows he built for Mordecai. Esther once again intercedes for her people, and a decree is issued that on the day of the intended massacre, the Jews can defend themselves.
The Book of Esther reaffirms one of by beliefs about human nature. Call me a pessimist, but I believe that humans are violent people who behave on their hidden impulses. While we have the capability to do great good, many human actions are prompted by our jealousies and our desire for retribution. When angry, people tend to blame their problems on their adversaries. When left unchecked, this kind of anger becomes violent, even murderous. Primitive societies provided religious sacrifice as a substitute for the violence in society. Sacrifice regulated the violence and restored order in times of crisis. Sometimes the sacrifice took on the form of a scapegoat – or a surrogate victim. The violence of the community was put onto one person or group who became the sacrificial victim. Here’s how scapegoating works: Those in power make up a story about how all of life’s problems are caused by the victim. The group unanimously assigns blame, and the victim is killed, or cast out of the group. Once the victim is eliminated, peace comes to the group. Harmony is restored. The community feels purified of all its tensions and division – at least for a time. We see this kind of thinking from Haman. He uses his hatred and jealousy to fund genocide against the Jews. Mordecai and his people are accused of a crime that can’t be proven, and are doomed to die to atone for the blood thirst of the Empire.
This happens in churches, too. In times of high stress, we become less tolerant of other’s differences. We only want people who believe what we believe, sing our songs, give their money, serve on the right committees, and not ask too many questions. Eventually, an individual or a small group is labeled as harmful to the community. Gossip starts about “those people.” Soon, the church purges the impure elements from among itself, and a new feeling of harmony comes.
God calls us to something different. The Bible provides the first instance in history where God is on the side of the victim. Instead of being guilty, victims are innocent. Instead of being innocent, the persecutors are guilty. Instead of alienating outsiders, God goes to those on the margins of life and loves them. We believe in a God who is:
The God of the humble,
The Ally of the insignificant,
The Champion of the weak,
The Protector of the despairing,
The Savior of those without hope. (Judith 9:11)
God stands up for those with no power and no voice. God uses people like Esther – a teenage girl from nowhere who is willing to give up her life to save her people. People like Esther point us to Jesus Christ. People like Esther remind us that jealousy, hatred, and conflict do not get the last word. People like Esther direct us to Jesus who taught us to forgive as God forgives us – to love as God loves us – to serve others as Christ who became the servant of all.
We commit to standing with the powerless, and resisting the forces of injustice in our world. We don’t persecute the outsider. We embrace him. We welcome her. I don’t think we have to make grand gestures. We rarely get those opportunities. Most of life is filled with ordinary events and unspectacular choices. Our daily choices are still significant. Each day offers us the chance to creatively express our support for those living on the boundary. Each day gives us the opportunity to resist the powers cast them away as outsiders. Each day we are given the chance practice the alternatives to exclusion: love, forgiveness, and service.
Shortly after the turn of the century, Japan conquered and occupied Korea. Japan overwhelmed Korea with a brutality that would sicken the strongest of stomachs. One group singled out for concentrated oppression was the Christians. The Japanese refused to allow churches to meet and jailed many of the key Christian leaders. Anguish filled the hearts of the oppressed and kindled hatred deep in their souls. One pastor begged his local Japanese police chief for permission to meet for services. His nagging was finally accommodated, and the police chief offered to unlock his church for one meeting. It didn't take long for word to travel. Christians starving for worship quickly made their plans. Long before dawn on that promised Sunday, Korean families throughout a wide area made their way to the church. They passed the staring eyes of their Japanese captors, but nothing was going to steal their joy. As they closed the doors behind them they shut out the cares of oppression.
The Korean church has a reputation as a singing church. Their voices of praise could not be concealed inside the little wooden frame sanctuary. Song after song rang through the open windows into the bright Sunday morning. It was during a stanza of "Nearer My God to Thee" that the Japanese police chief waiting outside gave the orders. The people toward the back of the church could hear them when they barricaded the doors, but no one realized that they had doused the church with kerosene until they smelled the smoke. The dried wooden skin of the small church quickly ignited. Fumes filled the structure as tongues of flame began to lick the baseboard on the interior walls.
The pastor knew it was the end. With a calm that comes from confidence, he led his congregation in a hymn whose words served as a fitting farewell to earth and a loving salutation to heaven. With smoke burning their eyes, they instantly joined as one to sing their hope and leave their legacy. Their song became a serenade to the horrified and helpless witnesses outside.
In the decades that followed, the Korean’s bitterness passed on to a new generation. The Japanese, although conquered, remained a hated enemy. The monument the Koreans built at the location of the fire not only memorialized the people who died, but stood as a mute reminder of their pain. It wasn't until 1972 that any hope came. A group of Japanese pastors traveling through Korea came upon the memorial. When they read the details of the tragedy and the names of the spiritual brothers and sisters who had perished, they were overcome with shame. Their country had sinned. Even though none of them were personally involved (some were not even born at the time of the tragedy), they still felt a national guilt that could not be excused. They returned to Japan committed to right a wrong. They raised ten million yen ($25,000). The money was transferred through proper channels and a beautiful white church building was erected on the sight of the tragedy.
At the dedication of the new church, a delegation from Japan joined the relatives and special guests. Although their generosity was acknowledged and their attempts at making peace appreciated, the memories were still there. Hatred preserves pain. It keeps the wounds open and the hurts fresh. Christian brothers or not, these Japanese were descendants of a ruthless enemy.
The speeches were made, the details of the tragedy recalled, and the names of the dead honored. It was time to bring the service to a close. Someone in charge of the agenda thought it would be appropriate to conclude with the same songs that were sung the day the church was burned. The song leader began the words to "Nearer My God to Thee." But something remarkable happened as the voices mingled on the familiar melody. As the memories of the past mixed with the truth of the song, resistance started to melt. The normally stoic Japanese could not contain themselves. The tears that began to fill their eyes during the song suddenly gushed from deep inside. One Korean turned toward a Japanese brother. Then another. And then the floodgates holding back a wave of emotion let go. The Koreans met their new Japanese friends in the middle. They clung to each other and wept. Japanese tears of repentance and Korean tears of forgiveness.
Faith requires holy disobedience to the powers that want to keep us living in hatred. Faith requires resistance to those who want to claim their power and cleanse their souls by sacrificing victims. We are created for moments when we have to rely upon our deepest convictions to shape our decisions about what we will support and what we will resist. In fact, maybe it is in those daily choices that we discover the presence of God after all.
When God is Silent
Esther 1:9-2:18
November 12, 2006
I hear the same questions in my office all the time. “Where was God?” “How could any God let this happen?” 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 cancer? Why do few get fed 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. And for everyone who died in that attack, why do dozens more die throughout the world because of the terrorist whims of evil people?
Then there are the events that hit us in the gut–the personal events that cause us to questions God. People come to me and want to know WHY God didn’t protect them from the assaultive 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 such senseless things as spilling her milk; the little boy who was scared to death of his violent father, the family who lost a loved one to suicide or a fatal accident. Have you ever been through a time in your life when you needed a sign from God, and you got nothing? You yearned for one moment when God would show up, change life around, bring some comfort and justice, and all you heard was silence?
I wonder if the characters from the Book of Esther struggled with the silence of God. The book of Esther has a problem. God is never mentioned. We read the Bible to learn about God’s relationship with creation, and there is not one mention of God in the entire book. Martin Luther did not Esther included in the canon of Scripture. He said, “I am so great an enemy to the second book of the Maccabees, and to Esther, that I wish they had not come to us at all, for they have too many heathen unnaturalities.” The whole book could be taken as nothing more than chance and luck. A literary tale of how a young Jewish orphan just happens to become queen and save her people because she’s in the right place at the right time to.
The book begins on a whim of a king. King Ahasuerus gives a great banquet for all the leading officials and dignitaries of his kingdom. After much revelry, the king orders for his queen, Vashti, so he can show her off. Vashti refuses. In a fit of drunken rage, Ahasuerus, divorces her to set an example that wives are to obey their husbands. After he sobers up and cools down, he realizes that he had no queen. The divorce cannot be reversed, so the search begins for a new queen. All the beautiful young virgins in the provinces are brought into the harem so that the next queen can be found. One of the virgins is Esther, a Jewish orphan who’s being raised by her cousin Mordecai.
Esther is probably a teenager, no older than 16. Ripped out of the only life she knew by the whim of an impulsive king, Esther begins a year of preparation for her one night with the king. She is one harem girl in the middle of harem that likely numbered in the 1000s. She would probably spend one night with the king then be sent to the house of the concubines where she would live out the rest of her life alone and with no purpose, unless the king called her again. When her night came Esther went to the king. In the first coincidence of the book she found favor with Ahasuerus who made her queen. Shortly after this, coincidence number two happened: Cousin Mordecai finds out about an assassination plot and warns Esther who tells the king. The royal servants who planned the assassination are put to death. Later, a man named Haman rises to power and becomes the prime minister of the empire -- second only to the king. All of the king’s servants bow when Haman enters the court – all except Mordecai. Infuriated that Mordecai will not worship him, Haman plots to kill not only Mordecai, but also his whole race, the Jews.
A decree is sent to all the provinces and the Jews immediately begin to mourn. Mordecai mourns in front of the king’s gate in sackcloth and ashes. When Esther finds Mordecai, she has no idea what’s going on. Mordecai tells her about the decree and urges her to go to the king and intercede for her people. Esther won’t do it. She is afraid of the king. Anyone who goes to the king without being called can be killed. This is the king who got rid of his first queen on a whim. This king commanded that the engineers of a bridge he was building be thrown off the end of the bridge when they fell behind due to a horrible storm. When a father requested this king not to send his last son off to war, Ahasuerus commanded the last son be killed in front of the father, then had the father blinded so that the last thing he saw was his dead son. This was the king Esther was going to, without an invitation.
Mordecai reminds her that her position as queen will not protect her from the edict. Then he prods her: “Who knows? May be that is why you are here.” Who knows? maybe all of these coincidences happened for such a time as this. Esther agrees. She will go to the king–even if it cost her life. She will appeal for the life of her people.
I’ll tell the rest of the story next week. Let’s stop here and think for a moment. What stands out most about Esther is the fact God is never mentioned. It is truly a book of coincidences. That is why we need Esther. To often we think that just because there is no obvious working of God in the world that God is not working. Maybe that’s why we need the book of Esther in the Bible.
We need reminders that God’s presence in our world is not always obvious—even to those in the church. There are times in life when we wonder where God is. The book of Esther reminds me that we don’t have to be passive victims of the world’s evil. We don’t have to be scared into stunned silence as we wait for God to show up and save us.
In times of darkness, we are tempted to pull back from others, to 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, like Esther. Peacemakers are people who heal by pulling close instead of tearing apart. Peacemakers are people who get in touch with their own pain and disappointment with God, and then reach out to others who suffer.
Let me tell you about some a peacemaker. A girl grew up in a troubled family and suffered through weariness and depression. At 16 years she was wed in an arranged marriage. The marriage was not a happy one. The husband was a faithless, violent spendthrift who made his wife miserable. She spent the first five years of her marriage in silent, melancholy submission to her husband. For ten years the woman alternated between withdrawal and social activity; there were no children, although her husband had at least one child by a mistress. Then the wife experienced a religious conversion. At about the same her husband became bankrupt. The woman began a life of humble of social work---going into the city’s slums to help the sick poor. Eventually her husband gave his life to God and helped his wife minister to the poor. They moved into the slums and worked there, without pay. Three years later, the plague came to the city, killing 80% of those who lived there. The wife supervised those who cared for the dying. In the year 1496 her husband died and the wife continued working full time until her health began to fail. She died in 1510, worn out with labors of body and soul, and consumed, even physically, by the fires of Divine love within her. The woman’s name was Catherine. She is known in the church today as Catherine of Genoa. This is a woman who faced evil. She knew suffering and pain. At one point in her life she asked the Lord, “Why, Jesus, is there so much pain on earth? Why do people have to suffer?” And Jesus said back to her, “Catherine, if there were any other way, I would have thought about it a long time ago.” It seems that there is no other way to learn how to let go and to learn compassion. There is no other way that we can learn our limits and rely on God and others. Peacemaking is born our of suffering.
The other day I was talking with a Muslim friend who told me that in Islam, silence means acceptance. I think he’s right. Maybe God is silent because we are silent. Maybe God sometimes stays behind the scenes because God’s waiting for you and me to step up to such a time as this. Perhaps God speaks when we are filled with boldness and courage and take a stand against evil. Perhaps God speaks through the peacemakers.
If you see hunger, don’t shrug your shoulders and think about how terrible it is. Silence is acceptance. Buy some food, or give some of your own, to our collection for St. Luke’s pantry. Educate yourself about public policy. Did you know that nutrition and welfare programs together amount to only 3% of the federal budget? Foreign aid is less than 1%. Join the One Campaign or Bread for the World.
If you don’t like the current war, don’t wallow in your frustration. Silence is acceptance. Contact your representatives and let them know how you feel. Send care packages to troops. Disarm yourself from that which divides and dominates. Experiment with putting on the armor of God. Wrap truth around your waist and put on just actions like a Kevlar vest. Lace up your boots that prepare you to do the work of peace. Carry the defense system of your faith to protect you from the missiles of sin. Put on the helmet of God’s wisdom. And carry no weapon but the word of God. And pray.
If you don’t like what we are doing to our earth, then do something. Silence is acceptance. Measure your ecological footprint – inventory your lifestyle. Recycle more. Coordinate a drive for unusual recyclable materials. Conserve natural resources. Fall back in love with nature, and tell others about what you experience. If everyone were to make an effort to make even small changes, the impact could be great.
Did you know that 600,000-800,000 were trafficked as human slaves last year? 80% were female and 70% were trafficked for human exploitation – it’s the international business of rape and profit. Doesn’t that make you mad? Silence is acceptance. Donate your services to an anti-trafficking agency. Pray for victims and perpetrators. Use your influence in your circle of family and friends to raise awareness. Provide advocacy and intervention for slaves.
How about something closer to home – like poverty. The cure for poverty is for people to do something. Silence is acceptance. Volunteer at a street ministry or homeless shelter. Go volunteer with someone like Sr. Theresa in Bridgeport. Help build homes with Habitat for Humanity.
You get the idea. God is not silent. When evil abounds, God compels peacemakers to step up and speak. Still yearning for that one moment when God will show up, change life around, bring some comfort and justice. Maybe all you hear is silence. We can’t expect God do perform a miraculous intervention while we sit back and wait. God chooses you for such a time as this.
Holy Disobedience
Esther 7:1-10; 9:20-22
November 19, 2006
Last week we learned about Esther, a Jewish teenager who becomes the queen of Persia. King Ahasuerus chose her his new queen during a beauty pageant. Esther was raised by her cousin. His name is Mordecai. And then there is the bad guy of the story. His name is Haman. Haman is the king’s right-hand man, and he has an ongoing feud with Mordecai. Haman convinced the King that Mordecai and all of the Jews were plotting to overthrow the King’s authority. Haman convinced the King to set a date for the extermination of the Jews. The King had no idea that his new queen, Esther, was also a Jew. He sent a decree to all the provinces of the empire and the Jews immediately began to mourn. Esther had no idea about the edict. Mordecai told her about the decree and urged her to go to the king and intervene for her people. Esther was afraid to do it. She was afraid of the king. Anyone who went to the king without a summons could be killed. Mordecai reminded her that her position as queen would not protect her from the edict. Then he prodded her: “Who knows? May be that is why you are here.” Esther agreed. She would go to the king–even if it cost her life. She would appeal for the life of her people.
This is where we left off last week. Let me tell you the rest of the story. There is a Greek version of the story that has some verses not found in the Hebrew. It says: “In making her state appearance, after invoking the all-seeing God and savior, she took with her two maids; on the one she leaned gently for support ...while the other followed her, bearing her train. She glowed with the perfection of her beauty and her face was as joyous as it was lovely, though her heart shrunk with fear. As the king looked up, his features ablaze with the height of majestic anger, the queen staggered, changed color, and leaned weakly against the head of the maid in front of her. But God changed the king's anger to gentleness. In great anxiety, he sprang from his throne, held her in his arms until she recovered, and comforted her with reassuring words. "What is it Esther?" he said, " Take courage! You shall not die because of this general decree of ours. Come near!" Raising the golden scepter, he touched her neck with it, embraced her, and said, "Speak to me"
Instead of punishing her, the king is pleased to see her. Approaching the king, invites the king and Haman to a dinner party. When Haman finds out about the special invitation, he is in high spirits – until he sees his enemy Mordecai. At the very sight of Mordecai, Haman fills with rage. When Haman gets home, he complains about Mordecai to his family and friends. They suggest that he build gallows and request Mordecai be hung on it the next day.
That night, the king has insomnia. He orders a servant to read the book of the record of his reign. The servant reads the account of Mordecai – about how Mordecai saved the king’s life from a death threat. The king realizes that Mordecai has not been rewarded. At that moment, Haman enters the court, ready to tell the king about his plan to hang Mordecai on the gallows. However, before Haman can open his mouth, the king says, “Haman, what do you think I should do for a man I wish to honor?” Haman is thrilled. He thinks the king wants to reward HIM for his service. Haman says, “King, you should have a parade. Put your clothes on the man, sit him on a horse that you have ridden. Set a crown on his head, and have a prince lead him through the streets proclaiming that this is what happens for the man whom the king wishes to honor.” The king loves the idea and orders Haman to do this for Mordecai. Haman does as commanded then runs home humiliated to prepare for Queen Esther’s dinner banquet.
At the banquet, Esther presents her case to the king. She pleas for the life of her people whom Haman would have executed. On finding out Haman’s plot, the king leaves the room. When he returns, he finds Haman on the queen’s couch pleading for his life. Ahashuerus accuses Haman of assaulting the queen, and in an ironic twist, Haman is taken away to hang on the gallows he built for Mordecai. Esther once again intercedes for her people, and a decree is issued that on the day of the intended massacre, the Jews can defend themselves.
The Book of Esther reaffirms one of by beliefs about human nature. Call me a pessimist, but I believe that humans are violent people who behave on their hidden impulses. While we have the capability to do great good, many human actions are prompted by our jealousies and our desire for retribution. When angry, people tend to blame their problems on their adversaries. When left unchecked, this kind of anger becomes violent, even murderous. Primitive societies provided religious sacrifice as a substitute for the violence in society. Sacrifice regulated the violence and restored order in times of crisis. Sometimes the sacrifice took on the form of a scapegoat – or a surrogate victim. The violence of the community was put onto one person or group who became the sacrificial victim. Here’s how scapegoating works: Those in power make up a story about how all of life’s problems are caused by the victim. The group unanimously assigns blame, and the victim is killed, or cast out of the group. Once the victim is eliminated, peace comes to the group. Harmony is restored. The community feels purified of all its tensions and division – at least for a time. We see this kind of thinking from Haman. He uses his hatred and jealousy to fund genocide against the Jews. Mordecai and his people are accused of a crime that can’t be proven, and are doomed to die to atone for the blood thirst of the Empire.
This happens in churches, too. In times of high stress, we become less tolerant of other’s differences. We only want people who believe what we believe, sing our songs, give their money, serve on the right committees, and not ask too many questions. Eventually, an individual or a small group is labeled as harmful to the community. Gossip starts about “those people.” Soon, the church purges the impure elements from among itself, and a new feeling of harmony comes.
God calls us to something different. The Bible provides the first instance in history where God is on the side of the victim. Instead of being guilty, victims are innocent. Instead of being innocent, the persecutors are guilty. Instead of alienating outsiders, God goes to those on the margins of life and loves them. We believe in a God who is:
The God of the humble,
The Ally of the insignificant,
The Champion of the weak,
The Protector of the despairing,
The Savior of those without hope. (Judith 9:11)
God stands up for those with no power and no voice. God uses people like Esther – a teenage girl from nowhere who is willing to give up her life to save her people. People like Esther point us to Jesus Christ. People like Esther remind us that jealousy, hatred, and conflict do not get the last word. People like Esther direct us to Jesus who taught us to forgive as God forgives us – to love as God loves us – to serve others as Christ who became the servant of all.
We commit to standing with the powerless, and resisting the forces of injustice in our world. We don’t persecute the outsider. We embrace him. We welcome her. I don’t think we have to make grand gestures. We rarely get those opportunities. Most of life is filled with ordinary events and unspectacular choices. Our daily choices are still significant. Each day offers us the chance to creatively express our support for those living on the boundary. Each day gives us the opportunity to resist the powers cast them away as outsiders. Each day we are given the chance practice the alternatives to exclusion: love, forgiveness, and service.
Shortly after the turn of the century, Japan conquered and occupied Korea. Japan overwhelmed Korea with a brutality that would sicken the strongest of stomachs. One group singled out for concentrated oppression was the Christians. The Japanese refused to allow churches to meet and jailed many of the key Christian leaders. Anguish filled the hearts of the oppressed and kindled hatred deep in their souls. One pastor begged his local Japanese police chief for permission to meet for services. His nagging was finally accommodated, and the police chief offered to unlock his church for one meeting. It didn't take long for word to travel. Christians starving for worship quickly made their plans. Long before dawn on that promised Sunday, Korean families throughout a wide area made their way to the church. They passed the staring eyes of their Japanese captors, but nothing was going to steal their joy. As they closed the doors behind them they shut out the cares of oppression.
The Korean church has a reputation as a singing church. Their voices of praise could not be concealed inside the little wooden frame sanctuary. Song after song rang through the open windows into the bright Sunday morning. It was during a stanza of "Nearer My God to Thee" that the Japanese police chief waiting outside gave the orders. The people toward the back of the church could hear them when they barricaded the doors, but no one realized that they had doused the church with kerosene until they smelled the smoke. The dried wooden skin of the small church quickly ignited. Fumes filled the structure as tongues of flame began to lick the baseboard on the interior walls.
The pastor knew it was the end. With a calm that comes from confidence, he led his congregation in a hymn whose words served as a fitting farewell to earth and a loving salutation to heaven. With smoke burning their eyes, they instantly joined as one to sing their hope and leave their legacy. Their song became a serenade to the horrified and helpless witnesses outside.
In the decades that followed, the Korean’s bitterness passed on to a new generation. The Japanese, although conquered, remained a hated enemy. The monument the Koreans built at the location of the fire not only memorialized the people who died, but stood as a mute reminder of their pain. It wasn't until 1972 that any hope came. A group of Japanese pastors traveling through Korea came upon the memorial. When they read the details of the tragedy and the names of the spiritual brothers and sisters who had perished, they were overcome with shame. Their country had sinned. Even though none of them were personally involved (some were not even born at the time of the tragedy), they still felt a national guilt that could not be excused. They returned to Japan committed to right a wrong. They raised ten million yen ($25,000). The money was transferred through proper channels and a beautiful white church building was erected on the sight of the tragedy.
At the dedication of the new church, a delegation from Japan joined the relatives and special guests. Although their generosity was acknowledged and their attempts at making peace appreciated, the memories were still there. Hatred preserves pain. It keeps the wounds open and the hurts fresh. Christian brothers or not, these Japanese were descendants of a ruthless enemy.
The speeches were made, the details of the tragedy recalled, and the names of the dead honored. It was time to bring the service to a close. Someone in charge of the agenda thought it would be appropriate to conclude with the same songs that were sung the day the church was burned. The song leader began the words to "Nearer My God to Thee." But something remarkable happened as the voices mingled on the familiar melody. As the memories of the past mixed with the truth of the song, resistance started to melt. The normally stoic Japanese could not contain themselves. The tears that began to fill their eyes during the song suddenly gushed from deep inside. One Korean turned toward a Japanese brother. Then another. And then the floodgates holding back a wave of emotion let go. The Koreans met their new Japanese friends in the middle. They clung to each other and wept. Japanese tears of repentance and Korean tears of forgiveness.
Faith requires holy disobedience to the powers that want to keep us living in hatred. Faith requires resistance to those who want to claim their power and cleanse their souls by sacrificing victims. We are created for moments when we have to rely upon our deepest convictions to shape our decisions about what we will support and what we will resist. In fact, maybe it is in those daily choices that we discover the presence of God after all.
Wednesday, November 8, 2006
Sermon for November 5, 2006
Whose Side is God On?
Luke 4:16-21
“If you’re a rock worshiper and a tree-hugger and an animal-rights activist and an anti-war draft dodger, you might want to stay home and tune in to NPR on the radio because you ain’t going to have a good time [here this morning] you ain’t a flag-waving, Bible-waving American.”
Can I get an "Amen"? Anybody?
Those remarks come from the Rev. Jeff Fugate, a southern Baptist minister from Kentucky who has trying to get his congregation psyched up about an upcoming religious rally. Fugate’s “I Love America” sermon lived up to his billing. At the July 2 event -- which cost his church more than $50,000 to stage -- Fugate criticized liberals, homosexuals, cross-dressers, HBO, Hollywood stars, rock musicians and the U.S. Supreme Court, as thousands applauded. He told non-Christian immigrants to “leave your religions, your Bibles, all the other things back where you came from.” How did it become possible to say that to be a follower of Jesus is to be a flag-waving American? Or a flag-waving anything for that matter? Can we really claim that God is on our side and our side alone?
American or Iraqi? Christian or Muslim? Rich or poor? Married, single or divorced? Gay or straight? Patriarch or feminist? Child or adult? Patriots or Giants? (Honestly, people always ask me to pray that their sport's teams will win. They must have money riding on the game. I'm not sure whether God really cares about the outcome of sporting events.) Whose side is God on? One way can figure out whose side God is on is to look in the Bible and read about the people with whom Jesus spent his time.
I think this passage gives a clear answer to our question. Jesus unrolls a scroll from the prophet Isaiah, and reads passages about how God is going to restore the Israelite exiles. God will renew the people by being present with those who have been forgotten by society. The poor. The blind. The prisoner. Jesus takes that mission upon himself. He goes where God goes and does what God does. God again reveals himself as the loving Giver. Let’s take a moment to look at each of these categories of people.
The poor are mentioned first. The poor often had to sell themselves or family members into slavery to pay off debts. Jesus was filled with compassion for the poor, not only the spiritually poor, but also those who were socially and economically poor. When you realize how contemptible poor people were, you will understand how revolutionary Jesus was. In the Greek, the verb “I spit” is ptuoh. The word for poor or beggar is ptochos. I poor person was literally a “spit upon one.” Jesus seeks out these spit upon ones and says, “I have good news for you. The day of richness has come upon you.”
Then there are Prisoners. Some commentators think Jesus may have been referring to imprisoned debtors. These people lived behind bars because they owed something to someone. Jesus says that part of his mission is to proclaim freedom and forgiveness for debtors. Jesus forgives the offenses that shackle people. The world around us is also full of people who are imprisoned in fear, anxiety and doubt. Bars of depression, violence, loneliness, and greed cage in all kinds of people. Jesus knew that words of courage, peace, love and justice have the power to bring freedom to those who are imprisoned by situations of life.
A while ago a prison inmate wrote the following account:
Jesus spent a lot of time giving sight to blind eyes. For that matter, he spent a lot of time with sick people. Jesus was a healer who spoke words of wholeness. He prayed for healing for the blind, sick and lame -- people who were looked upon by society as liabilities. Jesus always found ways to be a healer of broken emotions, broken relationships, and broken communities. He knew that when you take care of the physical problems, it allows people to accept new spiritual realities. To the blind Jesus says, “I have good news for you. The day of a new, healing vision has come.”
Jesus also talks about Release for Captives. This phrase can also be translated as “forgiveness for the downtrodden.” Jesus committed himself to speaking words of forgiveness to those who needed to know the grace and mercy of God. Jesus experienced the injustices suffered by outcasts and he treated all people with fairness, and compassion.
Compassion is about opening people up to the reality of God’s love. Compassion has to do with suffering along with the downtrodden. Who is oppressed in our community? What about the grieving parent who is told that it’s time to get over the death of a child. What about those who work for a wage they can’t live on without going into debt, but who cannot get another job? What about those whose housing is appalling, but who can’t afford to move? What about those who may be earning big money, but who have to work every hour because otherwise they won’t get the bonuses or they won’t have the job security, and they won’t be able to pay their huge mortgage? Jesus is saying, “I have good news for you. The day of your release has come.”
Whose side are you on? The next time you are choosing sides for God, look around. Where are the weak and the powerless? Where are the ones that can’t defend or speak for themselves? Where are the ones who are trapped and can’t find the key to freedom? That’s where God will be. So be sure you pick the right side.
God’s on the side of the child, regardless of nationality, searching for a family in the rubble that was once home. God’s with the grief-stricken, the lonely, the desperate and the broken-hearted. Our God, who knows suffering so well, is with those like the disgraced criminal dying on a cross beside Christ. Our God, it seems, is rather passionately on the side of these so-called “losers.”
So, whose side are you on? Ever heard or said something like this:
Of course, you can’t solve the world’s problems by yourself. Most of these problems took generations and millions of people acting badly to create. One person cannot solve any of them acting alone during one life-time.
Even though you can’t do it all, does that mean you can’t do anything? You can’t hold one weeping, broken person in the circle of your love?
God is on the side of the poor, the prisoner, the blind and the oppressed. And through us God says to them, “Today, your day of freedom has come.” Whose side are you on, and what are you going to do about it?
Luke 4:16-21
“If you’re a rock worshiper and a tree-hugger and an animal-rights activist and an anti-war draft dodger, you might want to stay home and tune in to NPR on the radio because you ain’t going to have a good time [here this morning] you ain’t a flag-waving, Bible-waving American.”
Can I get an "Amen"? Anybody?
Those remarks come from the Rev. Jeff Fugate, a southern Baptist minister from Kentucky who has trying to get his congregation psyched up about an upcoming religious rally. Fugate’s “I Love America” sermon lived up to his billing. At the July 2 event -- which cost his church more than $50,000 to stage -- Fugate criticized liberals, homosexuals, cross-dressers, HBO, Hollywood stars, rock musicians and the U.S. Supreme Court, as thousands applauded. He told non-Christian immigrants to “leave your religions, your Bibles, all the other things back where you came from.” How did it become possible to say that to be a follower of Jesus is to be a flag-waving American? Or a flag-waving anything for that matter? Can we really claim that God is on our side and our side alone?
American or Iraqi? Christian or Muslim? Rich or poor? Married, single or divorced? Gay or straight? Patriarch or feminist? Child or adult? Patriots or Giants? (Honestly, people always ask me to pray that their sport's teams will win. They must have money riding on the game. I'm not sure whether God really cares about the outcome of sporting events.) Whose side is God on? One way can figure out whose side God is on is to look in the Bible and read about the people with whom Jesus spent his time.
I think this passage gives a clear answer to our question. Jesus unrolls a scroll from the prophet Isaiah, and reads passages about how God is going to restore the Israelite exiles. God will renew the people by being present with those who have been forgotten by society. The poor. The blind. The prisoner. Jesus takes that mission upon himself. He goes where God goes and does what God does. God again reveals himself as the loving Giver. Let’s take a moment to look at each of these categories of people.
The poor are mentioned first. The poor often had to sell themselves or family members into slavery to pay off debts. Jesus was filled with compassion for the poor, not only the spiritually poor, but also those who were socially and economically poor. When you realize how contemptible poor people were, you will understand how revolutionary Jesus was. In the Greek, the verb “I spit” is ptuoh. The word for poor or beggar is ptochos. I poor person was literally a “spit upon one.” Jesus seeks out these spit upon ones and says, “I have good news for you. The day of richness has come upon you.”
Then there are Prisoners. Some commentators think Jesus may have been referring to imprisoned debtors. These people lived behind bars because they owed something to someone. Jesus says that part of his mission is to proclaim freedom and forgiveness for debtors. Jesus forgives the offenses that shackle people. The world around us is also full of people who are imprisoned in fear, anxiety and doubt. Bars of depression, violence, loneliness, and greed cage in all kinds of people. Jesus knew that words of courage, peace, love and justice have the power to bring freedom to those who are imprisoned by situations of life.
A while ago a prison inmate wrote the following account:
In the summer of 1987, I had just finished my third year on San Quentin’s death row. I was getting ready to spend my time exercising when the guard told me, “You’re going to miss Mother Teresa. She’s coming today to see you guys.” Yea, sure. I thought this is just one more of those designs they have on us. But after awhile I heard the commotion and the bells went off, and I realized maybe this was true. “Don’t go into your cells and lock up. Mother Teresa stayed to see you guys, too.” So I jogged up to the front in gym shorts and a tattered basketball shirt with the arms ripped out, and on the other side of the security screen was this tiny woman who looked 100 years old. Yes, it was Mother Teresa. You have to understand that, basically, I’m a dead man. I don’t have to observe any sort of social convention; and as a result, I can break all the rules, say what I want. But one look at this Nobel Prize winner, this woman so many people view as a living saint, and I was speechless. Incredible vitality and warmth came from her wizened, piercing eyes. She smiled at me, blessed a religious medal, and handed it to me. I wouldn’t have walked voluntarily to the front of the tier to see the Warden, the Governor, the President, or the Pope. I could not care less about them. But standing before this woman, all I could say was, “Thank you, Mother Teresa.” Then I stepped back to let another dead man come forward to receive his medal. Then Mother Teresa turned and pointed her hand at the sergeant. “What you do to these men,” she told him, “you do to God.” The sergeant almost faded away in surprise and wonder.I think that’s what Jesus did. He reached across social barriers and touched prisoners.
Jesus spent a lot of time giving sight to blind eyes. For that matter, he spent a lot of time with sick people. Jesus was a healer who spoke words of wholeness. He prayed for healing for the blind, sick and lame -- people who were looked upon by society as liabilities. Jesus always found ways to be a healer of broken emotions, broken relationships, and broken communities. He knew that when you take care of the physical problems, it allows people to accept new spiritual realities. To the blind Jesus says, “I have good news for you. The day of a new, healing vision has come.”
Jesus also talks about Release for Captives. This phrase can also be translated as “forgiveness for the downtrodden.” Jesus committed himself to speaking words of forgiveness to those who needed to know the grace and mercy of God. Jesus experienced the injustices suffered by outcasts and he treated all people with fairness, and compassion.
Compassion is about opening people up to the reality of God’s love. Compassion has to do with suffering along with the downtrodden. Who is oppressed in our community? What about the grieving parent who is told that it’s time to get over the death of a child. What about those who work for a wage they can’t live on without going into debt, but who cannot get another job? What about those whose housing is appalling, but who can’t afford to move? What about those who may be earning big money, but who have to work every hour because otherwise they won’t get the bonuses or they won’t have the job security, and they won’t be able to pay their huge mortgage? Jesus is saying, “I have good news for you. The day of your release has come.”
Whose side are you on? The next time you are choosing sides for God, look around. Where are the weak and the powerless? Where are the ones that can’t defend or speak for themselves? Where are the ones who are trapped and can’t find the key to freedom? That’s where God will be. So be sure you pick the right side.
God’s on the side of the child, regardless of nationality, searching for a family in the rubble that was once home. God’s with the grief-stricken, the lonely, the desperate and the broken-hearted. Our God, who knows suffering so well, is with those like the disgraced criminal dying on a cross beside Christ. Our God, it seems, is rather passionately on the side of these so-called “losers.”
So, whose side are you on? Ever heard or said something like this:
“There’s so much pain out there. I suppose someone has to address it, but why should I have to do it? I mean, I’ve got my hands full right now, what with working 60 hours a week and my family and all. Besides, I’ve worked hard to get what I have. Why shouldn’t be able to enjoy it?”How about this one:
“Yes, I know. The world is full of injustice and all. It needs to be corrected, but that will take a better person than I. It will take a Martin Luther King, Jr., a Gandhi, a Mother Theresa. Maybe all three rolled into one. I can’t to that; I’m just an ordinary sort of person.”Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he had been asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child. The winner was a four-year-old child whose next-door neighbor was an elderly man who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old man’s yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his mother asked him what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, “Nothing, I just helped him cry.”
I’ve thought things like that myself. It’s a problem, because if Jesus reaches out as God’s loving Giver, and we are supposed to follow in his steps, the excuses don’t really do much but to perpetuate the brokenness of the world.
Of course, you can’t solve the world’s problems by yourself. Most of these problems took generations and millions of people acting badly to create. One person cannot solve any of them acting alone during one life-time.
Even though you can’t do it all, does that mean you can’t do anything? You can’t hold one weeping, broken person in the circle of your love?
God is on the side of the poor, the prisoner, the blind and the oppressed. And through us God says to them, “Today, your day of freedom has come.” Whose side are you on, and what are you going to do about it?
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