Sermon for January 27, 2008

The Life of Holiness
1 Peter 1:13-16

Therefore prepare your minds for action; discipline yourselves; set all your hope on the grace that Jesus Christ will bring you when he is revealed. Like obedient children, do not be conformed to the desires that you formerly had in ignorance. Instead, as he who called you is holy, be holy yourselves in all your conduct; for it is written, ‘You shall be holy, for I am holy.’

It was the late 1920’s when a woman and her new husband moved into the man’s old family home. It wasn’t much of a home, but it was all they had. Over the next ten years, however, the couple managed to save just enough money to tear down the old house and build another next to it. It was to be their home for the rest of their lives. To cut back on the expense of the new place the husband, without informing his wife, decided to reuse many of the materials from the old house in the construction. He used old facings and doors, and many other pieces of the finishing lumber. When it was completed, the woman was finally permitted to inspect her new home. As her husband walked her through it, tears streamed down her cheeks. They were not tears of joy, however, but sadness. As she looked around she saw the same old doors that wouldn’t shut properly, the same crown molding that was split and riddled with nail holes, the same unfinished window trimming. In fact not much of the new house was very new at all. So on what should have been one of the better days of her life, she eventually sat down and had herself a good cry. Her husband was confused at her response. “I’ve built you a new home,” he objected. “No, you didn’t,” his wife responded. “You just rearranged the old one.”

It seems to me like a lot of people in our churches today approach the Christian life in much the same way as this man approached the construction of his “new” home. Rather than opening ourselves to becoming completely new in Christ, we ask only that God remodel us so that we are just a little better version of what we were before. God is not interested in reconstructing our knotty ways and worn patterns of living. God is in the business of making us into new creations that are the visible representation of Jesus Christ in this world (see 2 Corinthians 5:17 & Romans 6:4). This process by which Christians are constructed into the image of Christ is called sanctification. The word means, “to make something holy.”

Now let’s face it--the idea of holiness may be a bit old-fashioned. To some, the word “holiness” conjures up images of bunned-hair, long skirts and black stockings. For others, the idea of holiness is associated with an offensive “holier than thou” attitude. Others associate the word with specific prohibitions–don’t smoke, don’t drink, don’t dance. I think these ideas miss the true concept. To be holy is to be morally blameless. It is to be separated from sin, and therefore set apart for God. Let me say it another way; God expects every Christian to be on a constant campaign for excellence.

I think everyone who claims to be a Christian should ask him or herself this question: Is there evidence of practical holiness in my life? That is, if you were to look at your life through God’s eyes, would you be happy with what you see? The problem is this–we are called to be on a constant campaign for excellence, but at the same time, we don’t take sin seriously. We label sins according to those that are really bad, and those that are tolerable. For instance:
· Adultery is bad a sin, walking through the mall and checking another person out while your spouse isn’t looking is not so bad a sin. (By the way, your spouse probably saw you doing it).
· Lying is bad sin, shading the truth a little is not so bad a sin
· Swearing is bad sin, gossip is not so bad a sin.
· Murder is bad sin, hating your neighbor is not so bad, because after all your neighbor really is a miserable person.

There is a difference between Scripture’s attitude about sin and ours. Scripture says, “Make it your aim not to sin” (1 John 2:1). Our goal is more like, “Make it your aim not to sin very much.” In other words, don’t sweat the small stuff.

On an April night in 1912, more than 1,500 people died when the luxurious 900-ft. long cruise ship Titanic hit an iceberg that sank the ship. At least that’s what schoolteachers and screenwriters taught us. An international team of divers and scientists now challenge that theory. Using sound waves to probe through the wreckage, they discovered that the damage was surprisingly small. Instead of a huge gash, they found six relatively narrow slits across six watertight holds. The salvage team also recovered several of the rivets that secured the damaged hull. Analysis revealed the rivets were made of low-grade steel. Some scientists now propose that the Titanic sank not because of a collision with an iceberg, but because of a few small rivets of inferior quality. Had these rivets held, the ship might have survived the impact of the collision.

The failure of a tiny rivet can sink a colossal ship. We, too, can be sunk by small sins, tiny omissions, compromises that seem inconsequential. And while these failures may seem invisible to others, they have a way of doing visible damage and leading to bigger downfalls.

Peter presents a different standard. He writes, “Just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do.” Holiness is something God wishes for us simply because it is the best way to live. Sin disrupts and fragments our lives -- a poison that destroys us. God’s plan, on the other hand, completes our lives and makes them full. God is holy. God is pure. God is without moral blemish. Holiness is part of God’s nature. And because God is holy, God pays attention to sin. I think we need to cultivate the same attitude toward sin that God has. We can’t accept any sin as a regular feature in our lives. If we want to have lives of integrity and holiness, we begin by realizing that sin is sin. Once we realize this, God can help us to resist its alluring yet destructive trap.

Peter gives a great piece of advice for those of us who desire to pursue holiness. He says, “Prepare your minds for action; discipline yourselves . . . do not be conformed to the desires that you formerly had in ignorance” There are three different images used here.

First Peter says, “Prepare your minds The Greek literally reads, “Gird up the loins of your minds.” Picture a Middle Easterner with long flowing robes. The robes got in the way of physical activity unless they were tucked up under the belt. This left his limbs free for action. Peter is saying that if you seek holiness, free yourself up for some tough mental and spiritual work.

Next Peter says, “discipline yourselves .” Peter’s talking about having clarity of mind. He suggests having alertness and steadiness in the face of oncoming temptations.

We are also counseled to nonconformity. Peter uses the Greek verb suschêmatídzo. It is related to our English word “scheme”. Peter’s saying, “Don’t let tired and worn patterns schematize your life. Don’t let the desires of the world force you into their pattern. Don’t fit yourself into that old structure”

Here’s the deal: God wants you to be holy. God doesn’t want you to sin. We’ve established that. But here is why: God wants you to be holy because you are a person of worth and dignity in his eyes. You are a person of purpose. You are created in the image of God and God doesn’t make junk. You are the only one like you. Once you are gone, the earth will never see another person like you. God doesn’t want you to take the beautiful, worthwhile person that you are and waste it away by trying to look like someone else’s design. We are created in God’s image, and we spend our time trying to conform to the world’s pattern. Peter says don’t be a conformist. Be a transformist. We become transformists by learning how to deny temptation. It’s a slow and painful process, filled with failure. Old desires and sinful habits are not easily dislodged. Breaking them requires persistence, often in the face of little success. But this is the path to holiness that we tread, painful though it may be.

At this point, let me make something clear. If you are trying to be a morally upright person just because I’m giving you a guilt trip, forget it. It won’t work. Our holiness before God depends entirely upon the work of Jesus Christ for us by God’s will. If the hand of God in Christ has ever touched you, then holiness is your calling.

If you, as a devoted follower of Jesus, want to be transformed, let me offer some tips on how to carry out your side of the deal.

Holy habits are developed with repetition. Most people don’t play the piano like Adam Podd after their first lesson. You parents of teens know that your kids aren’t expert drivers after their time behind the wheel. Habits, both good and bad, only develop through frequent repetition. We need to acquire the habit of saying “no” to sin while also developing the habit of saying “yes” to things that are good, pure, and true.

Avoid the “just this once” syndrome. I read about an experiment in which some scientists made cocaine available to monkeys. The monkeys were allowed to pull a feeding lever that released cocaine into their feeding trays. Soon the monkeys became addicted. They found that if allowed to, the monkeys would keep pulling the lever and taking the drug until they died of overdose. Then the scientists began to withhold the fix when the monkey’s pulled the lever. Over and over the monkeys pulled, trying to get the cocaine, but none came out. They continued to pull, not 10, not 100, not even 1000, but 12,800 times! We say that we will only indulge a behavior just this once, and tomorrow will be different. Deep inside we know that tomorrow it will be even more difficult to say no. So, be strong and don’t make an exception for any sinful behavior.

Don’t be discouraged by failure. Gen. Patton once said, “Success is how high you bounce when you hit bottom.” We will make mistakes. We will have to face our failures at holiness. But then what do you do? Thomas Edison’s manufacturing facilities in West Orange, N. J., were heavily damaged by fire one night in December, 1914. Edison lost almost $1 million worth of equipment and the record of much of his work. The next morning, walking about the charred embers of his hopes and dreams, the 67-year-old inventor said: “There is value in disaster. All our mistakes are burned up. Now we can start anew.” We become failures when we give up or stop trying. Don’t give up. God is rooting for you, and God is working, by the presence of the Holy Spirit, to transform you. The good news is there is forgiveness, second chances, and a God who gives us the power to get up and try again.

God loves you. God has the best planned for you. That includes living holy lives. Later in his letter, Peter says these words; they are also my words of blessing and encouragement to you as you continue your campaign of excellence unto the Lord: You are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who has called you out of darkness and into his marvelous light.

Souces:
Jerry Bridges, The Pursuit of Holiness (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 1978), 13-14, 18-19.
James Bryan Smith, A Spiritual Formation Workbook (New York; Harper, 1991), 39.

Exercises in The Holiness Tradition

Today’s sermon begins our exploration of practical methods for growing in our faith. The result of these exercises is a greater ability to obey the commandments of God. With practice, you will find that God begins to mold and shape your life. As we explore different traditions, you are asked to choose an exercise and practice it for a week. Don’t forget to keep your emphasis on God, not on the method. Feel free to modify the exercises to fit your needs. These ideas come from A Spiritual Formation Workbook by James Bryan Smith.

1. Pray that the Holy Spirit purify your heart and mind and then listen. God works from the inside out. Set apart a substantial amount of time (say one hour) for a deep heartfelt prayer. Ask God to clean and purify you. The key to the effectiveness of your prayer will be your willingness to surrender control of your life to God.
2. Try a 24-hour fast. When we fast, we say “no” to uncontrolled appetites of the body and seek mastery over them. The practice of fasting reveals hidden things about us – short tempers, selfishness, the inability to delay gratification, etc. A simple way to begin fasting is to fast from lunch to lunch, skipping dinner and breakfast in between. Be sure to drink plenty of water.
3. Go a day without saying anything negative. In the morning, pray that the Spirit will guard the door of your mouth (Psalm 143:3), preventing you from saying anything negative. It’s OK to be honest, but not critical. Search for ways to be positive about everything around you and be bold in offering compliments when you can.
4. Go a day without saying anything dishonest. Do not be manipulative with your words. Let your yes be yes and your no be no.

If you have any other ideas, questions, or concerns, feel free to contact Pastor Matt.

Sermon for January 6, 2007

Arise and Shine
Isaiah 60:1-5, 9, 19-22


With a new year ahead of us, I thought it would be interesting to look up the top 10 under-reported news stories of 2007. These stories come from Time.com. Story #1 – There is a refugee crisis in Somalia that rivals that of Darfur in Sudan – over 1 million Somalis fled their homes in 2007 due to civil unrest. Another story: 41 countries have confirmed cases of extensively drug-resistant TB. And the region with the highest level of TB treatment failures is Europe. Here’s another story from Africa: Tensions are once again building between Ethiopia and neighboring Eritrea. Each country has at least 100,000 troops poised for battle on their borders. This story comes from CNN. Trafficking in human beings – slavery, in other words -- is the third biggest criminal industry on the planet. Only the trade in guns and drugs exceed the sale of people on the global scales of illegal enterprise. Two million people are taken, or sold, from their homes into a life of forced labor. An estimated 30,000 girls are trafficked into the sex industry every year. A few years ago I ran across a story about another group we rarely hear about: the Bajadores of Nogales, Mexico.

Nogales is a dusty Mexican town about 60 miles south of Tucson. A tall steel and concrete fence marks the border, barring illegal immigrants from the US. This town has ballooned from a sleepy village of 13,000 to its present population of approximately 160,000 in the last 45 years. 80% of its inhabitants live in wood and cardboard settlements with no services of any kind.

A few years ago, The Economist, the international news magazine from London, printed an article about the abandoned children of this town,

Some as young as six, who live in old storm drains 20 feet below the ground amid the sewage and garbage that seeps downhill from Mexico to Arizona. Abandoned, abused, doing whatever it takes to stay alive, the children have made these sewers and the streets around the sewage outlets their own. There are estimated to be at least 200 of them. Many are brain-damaged from the stolen additives, spray paint and other substances they use in a constant effort to stay high and escape their wretched reality. Disease and violence are a fact of life . . . Known as bajadores, or tunnel rats, they run drugs for the cocaine cartels, rob unwary passers-by, and attack people being sent through the tunnels and across the border by the smugglers of illegal immigrants.

What despair and hopelessness! But these children are not alone in their despair. How many more thousands and millions of people are there in similar situations. The other day I was reminded of the movie Requiem for a Dream. That movie scared the beejeebers out of me as I watched the self-destruction of good people who are hooked on drugs. I was reminded of how many seemingly normal teens and adults will totally destroy their lives in vain attempts to escape reality. How will they find a way out of their darkness?

How many people do you know who find life worthless and meaningless, and find now way of escape? How many here at Trumbull Congregational Church this morning, beneath a veneer of smiles and calm, are frustrated, angry, feeling trapped

in a marriage that is not at all what was anticipated,
in a dead end job, hopes for advancement dashed,
in a home where you feel unmotivated and misunderstood?
How many have feel betrayed by those they trusted?
How many have received some terrible news and don’t know how life will go on?

Today God has a word for those who are caught in traps, to those who feel despair; to those who think there is little worthwhile left in their lives.

Chapters 60-62 of the prophet Isaiah present a glorious vision of the promises to God’s people, to those who turn and depend upon God. These chapters picture a God who will bring light out of darkness, who will cause those who were lost in darkness to shine. God will substitute freedom for the prisons that bind us, gladness for mourning, shouts of joy for humiliation. All tears will be wiped away, all wrongs righted and paid for, and God’s people will be the delight of the Lord. Here’s my question: How can you be sure that you will share in this glory? How can we make sure that we are among those who experience this hope?

Let’s try to put this passage in perspective. Seventy or so years before this word, God’s people were taken over by the armies of Babylon and marched into exile. Babylon’s armies destroyed the land, and smashed the temple in Jerusalem to the ground. Some Israelites remained in their devastated homeland, but most were forced to live as vanquished slaves in a foreign land. When Cyrus, King of Persia, conquered the Babylonians, he let the Jews go back to their homes in Israel. It was taken as a sign of the Lord’s favor, and the third generation exiles eagerly began to go home and rebuild what was taken from them.

However, in the years immediately following the rebuilding, there were signs that the path to reconstruction would not be as smooth as they thought. Rebuilding foundered in the midst of partisan bickering. And the number of those returning was more of a trickle than a mighty stream. On one hand, the people had the promises of the prophet Isaiah who predicted a magnificent return of God’s chosen people. On the other hand, the reality was that they lost hope.

For the Jews, it was a disappointing time of hardship. They felt lost in darkness. The situation was so bleak that many people predicted the death for all the returning exiles. I can just hear the people asking, “Where is God? Does God even care about us? After all of these pie-in-the-sky promises, where is God now when we are facing death and darkness? Does the Lord care?”

It’s a good question. Does God see the injustice and hurt and pain of the bajadores and the homeless victims of disaster? Does God bother to notice those who are depressed and despised, those who are sick and surviving, those who are in the darkness of dying? Does God hear the cries of those who are lost and alone? Does God care about you this morning?

Today God speaks to the darkness. “Arise, shine, for the light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.” To people who walk in darkness, God gives a great light. To those who are lost in shadows and gloom -- to those who are moaning in pain, God replaces that darkness with the brightness of God’s presence. In today’s reading from Isaiah, there are images of the sun, of God rising and shining on his people, resulting in the same folks who were lost in darkness becoming light themselves!

In fact, in 60:5, we, God's people, are said to be radiant. Radiant! Whenever I hear the word “radiant” I have to think of Wilbur the Pig in Charlotte's Web. Remember, Charlotte, the clever spider, saves Wilbur from becoming pork by writing words in webs above his stall. She first weaves “some pig” to the astonishment of everyone around. But her second word is this one: “Radiant.” Radiant: shining, glowing, beaming, brilliant. Giving off light. God says this radiance is characteristic of all of us together, of the entire people of God. And as Isaiah writes in 62:1, our righteousness will then shine like the dawn. God replaces the gloom in which we are lost with light. We ourselves, individually and corporately, become light, as God works to save us.

God does some thing else in the passage. God replaces sorrow with joy. The contrast with earlier chapters of Isaiah cannot be more striking. Grief, humiliation, sorrow, weeping will all be changed, as we will be overwhelmed with joy and gladness.

God’s word is not just blind idealism in the face of pain. God is not just telling us to buck up and get on with life. God is offering transformation. God says, “This is my promise. Turn to me and I will transform your sin into righteousness! Turn to me and judgment will become mercy! Turn to me and I will exchange your sorrow for joy and turn your darkness into light.” And you know what else God says? It will happen swiftly. The fulfillment of the promise come at just the right time.

Return for a moment with me to the bajadores of Nogales. The same news article I quoted earlier tells of a ministry to these forlorn children, a ministry that provides shelter, food, education, and listening ears to these who are in despair. The name of the ministry: Mi Nueva Casa, my new house. A shelter from the storms raging around the lives of these children, a place of refuge for those who have never had a real home.

God offers us a nueva casa, but one that provides much more than relief of our physical needs. God’s message to those in despair is here: “ARISE! SHINE! I will substitute good for bad, I will redeem the lost! Justice will be done, evil will be beaten, and I will set all things right!”
~ Do you sometimes feel like a bajadore, a tunnel rat, when God has a new home prepared for you? Arise and Shine!
~ Did you come here discouraged this morning? Arise and Shine!
~ Are you disappointed with what life has thrown at you? Arise and Shine!
~ Did you come here with a heavy sadness on your heart? Arise and Shine!
~ Are you enslaved by sin and longing for righteousness? Arise and Shine!
~ Are you crying out for justice? Arise and Shine!
~ Are you lonely? Arise and Shine!
~ Are you sick? Arise and Shine!
~ Do you yearn to find some peace in a fallen world? Arise and Shine!
~ Are you longing for God to do something new and wonderful in your life? Arise and Shine, for the Light has come!

New life begins today. God’s promise to us today is that God brings us light and life. Sin and darkness will be obliterated. God will put all right, and we will share in the greatest joy imaginable. Your sun will never set again, and your moon will wane no more. The Lord will be your everlasting light, and your days of sorrow will end.

Sermon for December 16, 2007

Joy of Mary
Matthew 1:18-23; Luke 1:26-38

There was a perfect man who met a perfect woman. After a perfect courtship, they had a perfect wedding. Their life together was, of course, perfect. One snowy, stormy Christmas Eve this perfect couple was driving along a winding road when they noticed someone at the roadside in distress. Being the perfect couple, they stopped to help. There stood Santa Claus with a huge bundle of toys. Not wanting to disappoint any children on the eve of Christmas, the perfect couple loaded Santa and his toys into their vehicle. Soon they were driving along delivering the toys. Unfortunately, the driving conditions deteriorated and the perfect couple and Santa Claus had an accident. Only one of them survived the accident. Who was the survivor?
Answer: The perfect woman. She’s the only one that really existed in the first place.
A Man’s Response: So, if there is no perfect man and no Santa Claus, the perfect woman must have been driving. This explains why there was a car accident.

The longer I’m married, the more I realize that there are some real differences in the ways my wife and I go through life. There seem to be some differences between Mary and Joseph when they first receive the news of Jesus. The first is given in the Gospel according to Matthew.

This is how Jesus the Messiah was born. His mother, Mary, was engaged to be married to Joseph. But before the marriage took place, while she was still a virgin, she became pregnant through the power of the Holy Spirit. Joseph, her fiancé, was a good man and did not want to disgrace her publicly, so he decided to break the engagement quietly. As he considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream. “Joseph, son of David,” the angel said, “do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife. For the child within her was conceived by the Holy Spirit. 21 And she will have a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” All of this occurred to fulfill the Lord’s message through his prophet:
“Look! The virgin will conceive a child!
She will give birth to a son,
and they will call him Immanuel,
which means ‘God is with us.’

I can imagine how Joseph must have felt. The poor guy comes home from a hard day’s work at the carpentry shop. He cleans up a little and goes out to see his wife-to-be at her parent’s house. When he gets there, she pulls him aside to a private spot and says, “Joe, I’m pregnant. This angel appeared to me and told me I’m going to give birth to God’s Son. Then the Holy Spirit came and put a child in my womb” . . . I don’t know . . . I guess if I were Joseph, I’d be a little upset. My first thought would be that my fiancée was fooling around behind my back. Of all the excuses, this one would have seen most pathetic. Notice that the text calls Joseph just, which probably means he was careful to observe the law. According to Jewish law, if a virgin promised to a man had sexual relations with another, she and the other man could be punished by death. But not wanting a public scandal or a harsh punishment, Josephs decided just to divorce her. He would publicly declare that she had been defiled, and the marriage contract would be annulled.

It’s not until the angel appears to Joseph that Mary’s bizarre story is confirmed. The angel then tells Joseph to take the woman home to be his wife. Good News is about to be proclaimed to the entire earth. The long-awaited hope of a Messiah will be fulfilled.

Joseph models one that people act when they are confused and uncertain. Mary offers another response to the situation.

Gabriel appeared to her and said, “Greetings, favored woman! The Lord is with you!” Confused and disturbed, Mary tried to think what the angel could mean. “Don’t be afraid, Mary,” the angel told her, “for you have found favor with God! You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be very great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David. And he will reign over Israel forever; his Kingdom will never end!” Mary asked the angel, “But how can this happen? I am a virgin.” The angel replied, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the baby to be born will be holy, and he will be called the Son of God. What’s more, your relative Elizabeth has become pregnant in her old age! People used to say she was barren, but she’s now in her sixth month. 37 For nothing is impossible with God.” Mary responded, “I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.” And then the angel left her.

I have a difficult time relating to Mary. Her unselfish attitude makes me uncomfortable. Here is a young lady, maybe as young as 15. She is pledged to be married to a working man. Her future seems to be shaping up well. All of the sudden, out of nowhere, this angel appears and tells her that she is going to give virgin birth to God’s Son.

I would not have been happy with news like that. As a matter of fact, I would be scared out of my wits. I would have complained. I would have said , “You know, I’m really not worthy of such an honor, sir. Maybe you should find someone else. I’m sure Sarah down the road wouldn’t mind giving birth to the Son of God. Maybe you should give her a try. If you need anything else, though, don’t hesitate to call.” Because of this news, she would be outcast from society. People would accuse her of adultery. If she told the truth, people would think she was crazy.

Mary’s real attitude confirms my own selfishness. She doesn’t try to get out of it. She doesn’t even sound uncomfortable. She says, “I am the Lord’s servant. May it be to me as you have said,” She later praises God saying, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.” These are not words of disappointment. They are acclamations of praise. I am humbled by her acceptance of duty. Her faith and willingness leave me astounded.

There’s something different between the reactions of Mary and Joseph. Joseph tries to find a way out. God has to send a messenger to get him to change his mind. Mary’s obedience is marked by instant joy. Her excitement bubbles out in splashes of praise. She goes a step beyond obedience. In the midst of uncertainty, doubt, and anxiety, she expresses her trust in God. She had the faith to understand that the world would be changed through her.

On the surface Mary and Joseph’s story may seem far removed from us. After all, not many of us can claim to have had a virgin birth induced by the Holy Spirit. But think about the feelings and reactions that lie underneath. How do you react to troubling or confusing news? What do you do when everything seems to be going wrong? How do you respond when the future seems uncertain?

Some of us react like Joseph at first, trying to run away or avoid the problems. It may very well take something miraculous to help us regain focus.

There is another attitude – a posture like Mary’s – trust that God has something wonderful planned for your life. It’s the knowledge that God wants to do great things through you, just as you are. In the midst of our despair . . . our fear . . . our uncertainty, we know that God can transform us. God turns fear into courage. God transforms uncertainty into assurance. God can take despair and turn it into a song of praise.

During Advent, we remember that there is who shows us the full scope of God’s love. His name is Jesus. When we hear and believe the Good News that God has come to bring wholeness and new life to all, our lives will be transformed. Jesus Christ, God With Us, has come to mend fractured lives. We are changed when we meet Jesus. This is cause to rejoice and sing!

In the end, it doesn’t matter whether you are a typical man or a typical woman . God looks at the heart. God is searching for those who can look upon the future with joy.

I hope you can find the joy and hope of God this Advent season. In the face of fear, loneliness, and uncertainty, may you know peace.

Sermon for December 2 -- Advent 1

The Radiance of Christ
December 2, 2007

I learned about Jesus' birth while wearing a bathrobe. Each Advent season I got a part in the Christmas pageant, generally as either a shepherd or a wise man. At the appropriate moment, I shuffled into place and said my line—usually only one, occasionally two -- “Let us go to Jerusalem!” or “We have seen his star shining in the east.” The idea was to show Jesus' birth as history, but effort at historical authenticity never went too far. I always thought we should have real sheep and camels in the pageant. My ideas were always overruled by the Sunday School superintendent.

There are troubling parts of the Christmas story that were never told. Herod’s slaughtering of the innocents doesn’t get a lot of stage time in Christmas pageants. But it’s part of the story. We are not even aware of another violent subplot to our Christmas story. It comes from the Hanukkah story. Hanukkah is not the modern Jewish alternative to Christmas. The holiday actually began 200 years before the birth of Jesus. Hanukkah is the story of the survival of the Jewish religion against impossible odds. It is the story of a bloody fight for Jewish independence. It was a world suffering from political and religious stress, a world more like modern Afghanistan or Iraq or Israel than anything I learned by wearing my bathrobe during a Christmas pageant.

After Alexander the Great died, his empire was divided into different regions. Israel and its surrounding countries were ruled by a dynasty called the Seleucids. Our story begins with the reign of a Seleucid king named Antiochus IV. He decided that all of his territory would become unified under Greek language and culture. He sent messengers to Jerusalem, instructing Jews to stop practicing their religion and to adopt his national unity religion. Antiochus banned sacrifices in the temple. To make his point, he sacrificed a pig on the temple altar and erected a statue of Zeus in the holy place. The Jewish religion was outlawed. Anyone who resisted was executed cruelly.

In reaction, the priest named Mattathias and his sons led a bloody guerrilla uprising against Antiochus and his successors. They mostly succeeded, winning some independence for the Jewish state. On the eve of battle, the troops prayed to God for victory. They fasted, they read the Law. They were pious, devoted Jews. They were also courageous and ferocious Jews whose bravery ultimately defeats their enemies. The greatest hero was Judas Maccabeus, an outstanding general who led his outnumbered army to victory upon victory.

Hanukkah began when the victorious Jews returned to their desecrated Tample and rededicated it to the worship of God. That’s why Hanukkah is sometimes called the Feast of Dedication. We read about Jesus attending the Feast of Dedication in the Gospel of John.

In Jesus' day, 200 years later, the political situation remains strikingly similar. Instead of the Seleucids, the Romans now Rule. Instead of Antiochus, Jesus faces King Herod, the vicious puppet King of Rome. Instead of The Maccabees, Jesus is born to a world where a group called The Zealots oppose Rome through violent resistance. There were other groups who chose peaceful responses like Saducees, Pharisees, and Essenes. They all defined themselves by answering two crucial questions: "What do we do about Rome?" and, "What kind of people should we be?" These are the same questions asked today by Kurds facing Iraq, by Palestinians facing Israel, by Basques facing Spain. They are, by their nature, highly emotive questions, and they frequently lead to violence.

The birth of Jesus inaugurates a new way to answer those questions. He is called the Prince of Peace. He is a new king, born in humility. In his adult life, Jesus does things that anger almost everybody. To the Zealots he is not enough of a revolutionary. Jesus rejects the way of the Essenes by mixing with and ministering to society. He horrifies the Pharisees in his disregard of ceremonial purity. The Sadducees call Jesus a blasphemer.

Jesus is also anti-Maccabean. Understand the impact of this. It’s the same as saying that an American is anti-George Washington – against the revolutionary heroes who defined our nation. But Jesus resistes the ways of the Maccabees. When someone strikes you, he says, turn the other cheek. When someone forces you to carry a load for a mile, give him another mile. Love your enemies. Judas Maccabeus could not have followed Jesus without giving up the way of revolt and taking up his cross.

Against the backdrop of Jewish History, Jesus changes the terms of Israel's faith. The natural tendency is to accentuate our differences with our enemies, to draw clear lines and to assault the foe head on. That’s part of the story of Hanukkah. Jesus, however, does not follow the script. Jesus suggests that the truly evil empire is not headquartered in Rome. The power to do good or evil resides in human will. We can choose to hide our light, or we can choose to let our light shine. For some, it may shine like a beacon – like a Christmas star. For others, the light may shine like a humble Hanukkah candle. Either way, light shines in the darkness and exposes the places where evil intentions lurk.

Hanukah is time to remember when the Jews took back their Temple and rededicated it to the worship of God. They relit the temple torches, celebrating that the light of God had returned to the people.

Our second gospel reading tells the story about Jesus being transformed into radiant light on the mountaintop. We usually read that story right before Lent. But imagine if this is really a Hanukkah story. I think Matthew wrote his gospel as a collection of Jesus stories for Jewish worship. The earliest Christians were still considered themselves Jewish. They wanted to hear the stories of Jesus during their important holidays. The synagogue had a liturgical year in which the great moments of Jewish history were relived. Matthew’s gospel allowed worshippers to remember Jesus in the context of their own worship. And the text for Hanukkah would have been the story of the transfiguration.

In this story, Jesus becomes the new temple on whom the light of God rests. Jesus becomes the new meeting place between God and human life. Hanukah celebrates the light of God being restored to the Temple. Transfiguration celebrates the light of God resting on Jesus.

Well, up to this point you put up with a lot of history and theological thinking. Here’s the point. The radiance of Christ does not shine upon you. It shines from within you. We need to go only as far as our own hearts to make contact with the divine. Life might be better if we can remember that this Advent season. The light of Christ can transform our lives and the lives around us. But in doing so we will be challenged to change. The radiance of Christ challenges us to see who we really are, and love each other not just because of what we know but also in spite of what we know about each other. We very easily choose to live in darkness if it were not for the light of Christ that calls us, and compels us to live a new way as co-creators of a new life of peace and justice. We are challenged to help create a world where the meek will come out on top; the hungry go to the front of the food line; the powerful wash the feet of the homeless; where children are protected and life is cherished. We work for justice, seek peace, give ourselves away in service to others, love our enemies, show respect to the elderly, honoring one another and ourselves.
Take some time to reflect this Advent season about who you are. Even as we live our lives in this world, we don’t belong to it. We belong to God. So let God’s light shine.

I close with poem from Marry Oliver called “When Death Comes.”

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder
if I made my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.

Sermon for November 18, 2007

Who do you say I am?
Matthew 16:13-23

A man was looking for a job and he noticed that there was an opening at the local zoo. He asked about the job and found that the zoo had a very unusual position to fill. Apparently, their gorilla had died, and until they could get a new one, they needed someone to dress up in a gorilla suit and act like a gorilla for a few days. The man was to just sit, eat, and sleep. His identity would be kept a secret, of course. Thanks to a very fine gorilla suit, no one would be the wiser. The man tried on the suit and sure enough, he looked just like a gorilla. They led him to the cage; he took a position at the back of the cage and pretended to sleep. But after a while he got tired of sitting, so he walked around a bit, jumped up and down, and tried a few gorilla noises. The people who were watching him seemed to really like that. When he would move or jump around, they would clap, and cheer, and throw him peanuts. So he jumped around some more and tried climbing a tree. That seemed to really get the crowd excited. They threw more peanuts. Playing to the crowd, he grabbed a vine and swung from one end of the cage to the other. The people loved it. Wow, this is great, he thought. He swung higher and the crowd grew bigger. He continued to swing on the vine, and all of the sudden the vine broke. He swung up and out of the cage, landing in the lion’s cage that was next door. The man panicked. There was a huge lion twenty feet away, and it looked very hungry. So, the man in the gorilla suit started to jump up and down, screaming and yelling, “Help! Help! Get me out of here! I’m not really a gorilla. I’m a man in a gorilla suit. Heeelllp!” The lion quickly pounced on the man, held him down and said, “Will you shut up! You’re going to get us both fired.”

Sooner or later we all get found out. It’s only a matter of time before who we are becomes obvious to everyone. Why is it that we find it difficult to be who we really are? Sometimes I wonder if we are ashamed. Shame is an experience of the eyes. If I were to trip and fall flat on my face in the privacy of my home I would not feel ashamed. If I fell flat on my face in front of you all, I would be embarrassed. Shame is a dreaded, deep-seated, long-held terror come true; what we have feared has actually happened. We’ve been found out. We are frauds in a gorilla suit. The dark secrets of our lives have been exposed. Who we are and what we do comes into the light and makes us vulnerable to others’ opinions.

We tend to blame wounds to our self-image for most of the pain in our lives. We were called lazy when we forgot to make our beds, ugly when we failed to get a date, stupid when we did not excel in school. Each comment attacked our worth, we felt exposed and undesirable, and then–get his now–we began to hate whatever part of us caused the pain. If it’s our nose, then we will hate our face; if it’s our voice then we will whisper; if it is our past then we will hide it away and run the opposite direction.

Many of us have a fear that if our dark soul is revealed, we will never be enjoyed. No one will want us. We will be unloved and unlovable. Have you ever had a fight with your spouse or a good friend that ended with sharp words and angry accusations? You’re mad, and you turn away from the person you love in fury. You are so distant, the other person might as well be on the other side of the universe. After a while, you realize that your words were immature and cruel. And you think, “I wonder if this person will ever talk to me again.” You want to say you’re sorry, but it seems empty. Something holds you back. Shame fills your body like cold water rushing through the hull of a sinking ship. You are afraid of rejection–scared that the person you love will be disgusted with who you are.

Does shame have to govern our lives? Today we heard a scripture in which Jesus asks an identity question. Who do you say I am? I listened to that question, and began to wonder, do we take time to really know one another, or do we hide, ashamed what will happen if someone gets to know the REAL you? Look around you today. Each person here has a story – heartaches, wounds, summits of great success and valleys of defeat. There are stories of victory, stories of rejection, and stories of trying to make it through each day, one day at a time. Every one here has done something that he or she has regretted – each of us has times when we wish we could turn back the clock.

Imagine this scene with me. If you are comfortable, I invite you to bow your heads and close your eyes. This may be the only sermon you ever hear where the preacher actually tells you it’s OK to close your eyes and relax. Take a deep breath. Feel the air coming into your nose, your mouth, your lungs. Let your body relax a little. Breathe deeply. Be aware of your body, any feelings you may have. Let any thoughts or feelings go, and just focus on the moment – on the breath. Now I want you to imagine yourself in the scene from today’s Gospel reading. You are on the road between Jerusalem and Galilee with Jesus and the disciples. Peter is leading the way, as usual. You are bunched together with the followers of Jesus. Jesus is a little way behind the group, walking by himself. You decide to drop back and walk with him for a while. You slow your pace, and soon you and Jesus are walking side by side.

Take time to notice what Jesus looks like to you. What do you think his voice might sound like? What color are his eyes? What does he wear? What does he smell like? What would you want to say to him?

As you walk along, Jesus speaks. He calls you by name and asks what’s on your mind. You remember a prior conversation between Jesus and the disciples when Jesus asked them, “Who do you say I am?” You decide to ask the same question of Jesus. Even tough it sounds strange, you ask it anyway. “Jesus, who do you say I am?”

Imagine what Jesus looks like when he smiles at you. He says, “That’s an excellent question. Listen very carefully to my answer. All that I am about to say is true. I want you to pay special attention to the words I use to describe you – the ones you really like as well as those you have trouble believing. Remember, every word I say is true of you. Now listen with your heart, as well as with your mind and ears.

You are chosen and dearly loved by God.
You are the salt of the earth.
You are the light of the world.
You are God’s child, prized and treasured by God.
You are my friend.
You are a saint.
You are forgiven – past, present, and future.
You are and always will be an object of God’s love.
You are a citizen of heaven.
You are a temple of God – God dwells within you.
You are a new creation – a new person.
You are God’s coworker.
You are God’s workmanship – a masterpiece, unique in the entire world.
You are righteous and holy – in you there is no flaw.
You are the chosen one of God.
You are dearly and uniquely loved by God.
You belong to God and God belongs to you.
You are the one who will always be with Christ.
You are a source of delight to God.

When you are ready, you can open your eyes.

I did not make these affirmations up. They are not my inventions. They are the words of the Bible. In all my studies of the Bible, I have never heard Christ say, “You are fat and ugly and people hate you.” I have never heard Jesus say, “God thinks your lazy, and stupid and you have a big nose.” I have never heard Jesus say, “You will never amount to anything.” You may have heard those things, but never from the mouth of Jesus. What do you think? Is it difficult to believe that the wonderful things Jesus said are true about you?

Jesus speaks a new message of love to us. You may have been taught that you have to meet certain standards in order to feel good about yourself. Jesus says something different. You are completely forgiven and fully pleasing to God, and you no longer have to fear failure.

You may have been taught that you must have the approval of others to feel good about yourself. Jesus says something different. You are totally accepted by God. You no longer have to fear rejection.

You may have been taught that those who fail are unworthy of love and deserve to be punished. Jesus says something different. You are deeply loved by God. You no longer have to fear punishment, nor must you punish others.

You may have been taught that you are what you are – you cannot change – you are hopeless. Jesus says something different. You have been made brand new and complete in Christ. You no longer need to experience the pain of shame.

This time of year, we are always reminded to count or blessings to be thankful. So, while you gather with family and friends, and eat turkey and potatoes and stuffing, we give thanks. I want you to remember something. You are a source of delight to God, and God counts it a blessing to have you around. God is thankful for you.

Sources:
Jeannie Oestreicher & Larry Warner, Imaginative Prayer for Youth Ministry (El Cajon: Youth Specialties, 2006).
Robert McGee, The Search for Significance (Houston: Rapha, 1990).
Rick Marshall: Life Connections (Claremont: P&F Publications, 2004).

Sermon for November 11, 2007

Well, I thought I’d do something a little different and share with you a letter from my family in Jericho Springs, MO. You might enjoy hearing about some of the happenings at the Jericho Springs Progressive Church of the Ozarks. I don’t think I’ve ever told you about them before. My Great Aunt Georgia is a long-time member there. In fact, my family has been attending there for generations. Anyway, it’s a place like most other home churches–muddling through the same old issues and made up of the same old wonderful people, with a few colorful characters and one or two certifiable nut cases thrown in–my family excluded, of course. Anyway, here’s the letter.

Dear Matthew,
I woke up a few days ago craving apple butter, and I don’t know why. It’s not like I eat the stuff, ever. But it was a powerful hankering, and I figured I’d better not fight it. You go around fighting hankerings, and you’re just begging for trouble. By the next day, I was standing in my kitchen coating two slices of Wonder Bread toast with the stuff. And it was good. I’ve been flat-out eating it. Every morning I wake up and think, “Who am I? How did I get here? Hey, I have apple butter!” Within minutes I’m prowling downstairs, looking like a rabid wolverine with apple butter foam smeared all over her mouth. How does a person just suddenly desire obscure condiments? I remember a similar situation years ago with deviled eggs. I just couldn’t get enough of those tasty little suckers. Your Uncle Slim nearly had to perform an intervention during that one.

I like to mix my food together. Even as a kid, I’d routinely shove everything into the middle of the plate, and toss it like a salad. It made for an unpredictable and often delicious surprise. I’m a natural born mixer.

My sister Molly, on the other hand, would see this happening and react like she was viewing a grisly crime scene. She is the type who requires at least an inch-wide barrier between every item on her plate. If, through some unforeseen series of events, a green bean happens to flirt with the gravy, the meal is ruined. May as well just toss it all in the garbage.

Your cousin, Daryl Bob Broadfoot, would become ill if he saw you put cream in your coffee and didn’t stir it in right away. He’d sit there with beads of sweat popping out on his forehead, then finally crack beneath the pressure: “Stir it! For the love of all that’s holy, stir your coffee!!”

I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I guess it’s good to know a little about your family history.

Do you remember Sunny from the Jerico Springs Progressive Church? Her real name is Sunshine. She always acts like the whole world is constantly putting her down with their eyes. She decided to change her image, so she’s been strutting around the county wearing a Hillary Clinton jumpsuit o’ power, hoping to get some respect. She comes over to the farm every now and again, and we watch the stories together in the afternoon. One day we began seeing commercials for the so-called KFC “Famous Bowl.” It was a mixture of mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, cheese, and chicken, I thought: yum. When Sunny saw it, her lower jaw retracted and she hollered, “Dangit, that’s disgusting I wouldn’t feed that slop to a starving mutt.” I guess she’s not a food mixer.

That’s been several months, and I never found myself in a situation where I was able to sample that delicious-looking bowl of “slop.” There are only two known KFCs in our area, and both are pretty far off the beaten path. They’re in parts of the county you only visit when you need a propane tank filled or a cow butchered.

To be honest, I’ve never felt a strong urge to visit Kentucky Fried Chicken. Until last week, that is. I was out running errands one day, and the commercial suddenly began playing inside my head. Without realizing what was happening, I’d whipped the steering wheel violently to the right and was headed for KFC in Chigger Falls.

I was under the impression there are now two bowls: one with chicken on the top, and another with country fried steak, or somesuch. But the KFC in Chigger Falls only offered the chicken variety. Not a problem, since I’d planned to go with the classic version anyway. But where’d I get such a notion? Had I dreamed it? Sweet fancy Moses, please tell me I wasn’t dreaming about country fried steak bowls!

A teenage girl met me at the take out. She looked like Mortician Adams in a visor hat and she wore the expression of someone smelling gym socks that’ve been suffocating under the laundry pile. She passed my lunch to me through a window and thoughtfully included a packet containing a wet wipe and a spork. I peeked into the sack with anticipation. The plastic dome over the bowl was fogged-up and dripping with the condensation of brown gravy.

When I got home our dog Loverboy sniffed the bag of food and his eyes almost popped out of his head. I’d never seen such a reaction from that hound. He began prancing on his tiptoes and turning tight circles in the middle of the floor, shaking like Janet Reno on a hayride. I hoped he wouldn’t just give in to the chicken frenzy and make a leap for my throat. But he was right, that thing was putting off one spectacular aroma, and I couldn’t wait to get at it. I sat down at the dining room table, broke the seal on my spork bag, and lifted the dome off my lunch. That’s when my stomach sank like a cement row boat. The Famous Bowl appeared to have already been eaten at least once. It looked like a pipin’ hot bowl of Alpo covered in cheese. No wonder Loverboy wanted it so bad.

But, of course, I ate it anyway. The chicken was tender and tasty, not the kind with the hard breading that tears holes in your gums, or anything like that. The gravy was delicious, and there was so much salt and fat, my heart is still cutting in and out – and it’s the arrhythmia of love.

I got thinking about all my food cravings and then I began to wonder if Jesus was a mixer or a divider. Pastor Sanford at the progressive church read a strange gospel lesson the other day. Jesus had just been bickering with the Pharisees about what makes a person unclean. The Pharisees had a problem with people eating unblessed food with dirty hands. Jesus said “Ya’ll listen and get this straight. It’s not what goes into a people’s mouths but what comes out of it that debases them. What comes out of the mouth springs from the heart.” Right after that, Jesus meets up with a woman who’s not from Israel. She’s a gentile, and Jesus is not supposed to be talking to her. She wants Jesus to heal her daughter. Jesus just ignores her. The disciples gather ‘round Jesus and say, “Tell her to scram.” I expect Jesus to ignore them, and reach out, and fix her problems all up. Instead Jesus says, “I was only sent here to fix my people. It’s not right to take bread from children and throw it to a hound dog.” She’s a pushy woman, though. She’s not giving up without a fight. She says, “Yes sir, but even a hound dog gets some scraps from the table.” Then Jesus says, “Ma’am, you’ve got a lot of faith. You may have whatever you want.” The gentile woman’s daughter is healed in that instant.

Now what do you make of that? Is Jesus a mixer or a divider? We all know people who are dividers. They think religion is all about keeping themselves pure and holy. They want to make their faith about giving to the church and being a member of the Bible reading circle and serving on the church board. That kind of religion is far too easy.

I think Jesus caught on to that lesson when he was learning what it meant to be the Savior. Yeah, you read it right. I don’t think being a mixer came to Jesus automatically. I don’t think Jesus had his act all together right from the beginning. He had to learn like the rest of us do. That’s part of being human. Jesus was changed when he met that pushy woman. He chose to act in compassion when no one would have faulted him for moving on. He chose to listen and to heal, and to change his mind.

It’s hard to love the unlovely and the unloveable. It’s hard to help the needy at the cost of ones own time and money and comfort and pleasure.

Maybe this woman taught Jesus something about heart-stopping passion. Maybe when she was done, Jesus felt the arrhythmia of love. And when he felt it, he learned a little bit more about what it would mean him to be the Savior of the entire world. I dunno. Just a thought.

There will always be dividers. And I’m not talking about food anymore. Most politicians are dividers. They thrive on discord. Makes it look like they’re actually doin’ something. If people started getting along, they would be out of a job. Divide and conquer. It happens in families. It happens in our village. It even happens at the Jerico Progressive Church. I’m so glad Jesus learned a different way. Without his gamble on grace, we would never be challenged to be mixers like he was. You know I’m not a gambler, but it’s the best phrase I can think of. When we open our arms to others, we take a risk. We don’t know whether the other person will understand, or whether our actions will be appreciated. But embrace is grace, and grace is always a gamble.

I’m done preaching. That’s your job, anyway. I think I’m going to turn in early. Last night around midnight my phone rang. It was one of those sounds that sends a tiny chill up your spine. If a person’s calling that late at night, something must be wrong. Visions of dead relatives danced through my head. Massive heart attacks, head-on collisions, hot water tank explosions . . . my mind cranked up in a hurry. It was just Sunny, wanting me to help her remember all five members of the Brat Pack. And if you think I’m joking you’d be terribly wrong. For the record, I could only come up with four. I always have a mental block on that British lady’s man – Lawford was it? Anyway, It’s been my experience that a person needs to be wide awake before she’s able to pull names of entertainers out of thin air.

Write back soon. Love,
Aunt Georgia

With thanks to Jeff Kay at The West Virginia Surf Report for making me gut laugh!

Sermon for October 28, 2007

The Confident Sinner

To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, Jesus told this parable: "Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: 'God, I thank you that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.'
"But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, 'God, have mercy on me, a sinner.'
"I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted."
-- Luke 18:9-14

I used to have real problems with church people. About 15 years ago I had an experience that changed my spiritual life. I became what some might call a Bible-believing Christian. I converted into a person who was really serious about Christianity. I mean REALLY serious. I not only took my Bible to church with me every Sunday, but I normally carried one with me wherever I went. I had a Bible at work. I carried it in the car with me. I read it every chance I could get, and it didn’t matter who was watching. In fact, it was better if a lot of people saw me so that they would know I was serious about being a Christian.

At that time the faith was new to me and I was enthusiastic and eager. Winning souls for God was important to me, prayer was important; enthusiasm in worship was important. And, while I was being a very good Christian, I began to feel that I was some kind of minority within the church.

During worship services I would look around, and I saw that many people there did not read their Bibles, they did not sing the hymns loudly, they did not seem to pray, nor did they like fellowship with their brothers and sisters afterwards over a cup of coffee.

Have you ever done that, by the way -- you know -- check out what other people are doing during worship? Looking to see if they are singing, or if they close their eyes during prayer time or doodle on the bulletin during the sermon, or if they are putting anything in the offering plate when it goes by. Well, I did it.

I noted that many in my congregation seemed more concerned that the service was over exactly one hour after it began so they could get home and eat than they were about the actual worship they were involved in. I also noted that only about 10% of the congregation ever bothered attending the weekly Bible studies and prayer meetings and that most of them had never really grasped the fact that the gospel message is one of grace - instead of works – that Jesus died not to reward people who act good all the time but so that sinners can approach the throne of God and find a welcome that they do not deserve.

I had real problems with some of the people in the church. To my eyes the church was full of hypocrites . . . full of people who could barely talk the talk, let alone walk the walk.

One of the biggest issues I had at worship services in those days were the prayers of confession that were often printed in the bulletin – just like the one printed in our bulletin this morning. I don’t know about you, but sometimes I still have a strong reaction to the words that I find in prayers of confession that have been written by other people. The fact that those prayers were prayers of confession didn’t bother me. I knew I was a sinner. What bothered me were the kinds of sins that were often listed in the prayers: things like neglect of the poor, selfishness, ingratitude, racism, and similar offenses. I found it hard to pray some of those prayers because I knew in my heart that I had not done any of that stuff. I was not especially selfish or neglectful of the poor. I wasn’t a racist. I wasn’t ungrateful for all that God, and indeed other people, did for me.

All things being equal, I was on the right track. I gave a substantial amount to the work of God each year, a tenth of my income in fact, and that tithe was more than most others in the church gave, even though they had far more income. I went to prayer meetings every Wednesday night, and I worshiped almost every Sunday morning, even if I had company coming over for lunch. I even went caroling at Christmas at the homes of shut-ins, and helped out whenever I could with church suppers and special events.

Not bad, huh? I know that many of you out there have had a similar journey. You have been faithful. You have been generous. You have worked hard and asked nothing in return. Like me all those years ago, you too have realized God needs many workers to make the Kingdom grow. Like me, you knew too that your efforts have made a difference both to others and to you.

In Jesus’ day, the Pharisee acted kind of like I did. Pharisees were really good people. They were respected. People looked up to them as an example of pure devotion. Pharisees were super-religious men who were extremely careful about obeying the all of the religious laws. When the Pharisee prayed, everyone listened up. And those listening might say, “I really admire that guy’s commitment to religion. If anyone is going to heaven, it’s that Pharisee over there.” The tax collector was at the very bottom of the religious food chain. If you had been a good Jew listening to Jesus, when he mentioned the Pharisee you would have cheered, “Yeah! Hurrah for the good guy!” When He mentioned the tax collector, you would have booed. But Jesus is always full of surprises. If we were listening to Jesus, we might expect him to praise the impeccable faith of the Pharisee. Instead, he holds up the sinner as the model of real faith. Something is not right here.

I invite you to hear today’s reading from Luke’s Gospel once again – but let’s put it in a different context. Hear now a reading from the Gospel According to Pastor Matt:

As Deacon Proud walked into church one Sunday morning, he was disgusted to see Lenny Lowlife there. Lenny was a drug pusher who had just gotten out of jail. Deacon Proud warned some of the ushers to keep a close watch on Lenny because he was a no-good loser. Before the offering, it was Deacon Proud’s time to pray. He walked with an air of importance to the microphone and began to pray using his religious tone of voice, “Heavenly Father, I thank Thee that I’ve been a deacon in this church for 30 years. I even remember when my grandfather built this holy edifice with his own two hands. And I thank Thee that I haven’t missed a single Sunday for over ten years. There were times, O Lord, when I was sick, but I came anyway. And Father, thou knowest I used to sing in the choir, until I was persecuted by the song leader who wouldn’t sing my style of music–but I can endure persecution just like Thou didest. Thou hast blessed me financially so I’ve been able to give unto you much more than 10 percent. I thank thee that I’m morally pure for I don’t drink much, and I don’t cuss on Sundays, and I don’t smoke unfiltered cigarettes and I don’t use drugs or sell them like someone who is among us today. Lord, we need more people just like me in our church. And, Lord, help everyone to come out tomorrow night at 7 p.m. at Oak Park field to watch our church softball team beat the Baptists again, and bless the gift and the giver. AMEN.”

After napping through much of the sermon, Deacon Proud strolled out of church feeling good about himself because he made it through another Sunday.

Meanwhile, Lenny Lowlife was slouched on the back pew. After hearing a message about God’s forgiveness, he slipped to his knees, and began to pray. Holding his face in his hands he sobbed quietly, “God, I’m the dirtiest sinner in this town. I’m so sorry. I don’t deserve it, but is there any way you can wash away my filthy mistakes? Please, God, I need you!”

I tell you, it was Lenny, not Deacon Proud, who went home that day right with God.

It’s one thing to be thankful for what God does for us -- for the blessings we see all around us. It is quite another thing to compare ourselves to one another and to thank God for the differences, as if somehow we are better than that poor miserable tax collector over there, better than that druggie who’s wasting his life, better than that single mother who drinks too much, or that clumsy idiot who is our fellow worker, or the parishioner who sits next to us and seems to have no real faith at all.

But we still do I, don’t we?

While we have breath, we must fight the temptation to make ourselves feel better by comparing ourselves to someone else. How do we do it? Eastern Orthodox Christianity uses a prayer called the Jesus prayer. It comes straight from this passage in Luke, and it goes like this: “Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner. Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner. Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

Words to live by. Words to cultivate in our minds and hearts that we might know the true joy of salvation. There is a beautiful promise in today’s Gospel lesson: “All who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.” Christ’s words are also a challenge -- a challenge because it’s very hard not to exalt ourselves. It’s hard not to think that I am better than that person over there: that tax collector, that sinner, that arrogant person, that cheat, that hypocrite, that klutz, that liar, that domineering person. It is very hard, but it’s not impossible.

We do not have to think that we have the one right answer; that because we do this or that thing better, or more often than others, we are somehow better people, wiser people, or holier people than those who do it poorly or less often than we. We do not have to think that because we are more diligent at serving God inside the church and out, or attend worship more often than most other people, that we are somehow more important, or more faithful, or more loved by God than they are. There is an old Hasidic saying that goes like this: “The person who thinks he can live without others is mistaken; the person who thinks that others cant live without him is even more mistaken.”

As it turns out, it is actually damaging to our faith when we come to God and pray like the Pharisee: “O Lord, I thank you that I am not like other people: like John or Suzi, like my parent or sibling or my fellow worker.” No, I think God is looking for confident sinners – people who know they have blown it and still have enough faith to come before the throne of grace and pray, “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner.”