Sermon for September 21, 2008

Core Values: Holding Traditions
2 Thessalonians 2:13-17; 1 Corinthians 11:1-7

In March 1638, a Puritan woman stood shamelessly before a gathering of Massachusetts Bay clergy. As many of her former friends from Boston watched, Pastor John Wilson read a writ of excommunication, casting Anne Hutchinson out of the church and the colony. She was charged with “lewd and lascivious conduct” for having men and women in her house at the same time during Sunday Bible study meetings. Later that month, Hutchinson and over a hundred supporters left for Rhode Island.

Anne Hutchinson converted to Puritanism through the preaching of English Pastor John Cotton. When Cotton migrated to the New World, Anne and her family followed. There she began to hold weekly women’s meetings in her home to discuss Cotton’s sermons. The meetings grew in popularity, and women began bringing their husbands. These gatherings evolved into question and answer sessions in which Anne often voiced her own opinions. She suggested that some ministers in the colony promoted a covenant of works, while John Cotton preached a covenant of grace. The works-versus-grace debate violently divided the community. Authorities took action. The clergy condemned Anne for claiming that God spoke directly to her soul, giving her inner direction and personal revelation. Her teachings angered and shocked the clergy who believed that prophecy ended with biblical revelation. And by holding public meetings for both men and women in her home, Anne had moved beyond her authority. Some of the clergy referred to Anne as “an American Jezebel, who had gone a-whoring from God,” and who should be, “tried as a heretic.” Anne had to confess to being “guilty of wrong thinking”, even though she did not really believe it. In 1638, with the words of the excommunication burning in her ears, Anne Hutchinson declared, “The Lord does not judge as man judges. Better to be cast out of the Church than to deny God.” She was banished from her community, and forged a new life in Portsmouth Rhode Island.

Eventually, Anne and her family moved to East Chester New York. Because of ongoing hostilities with the Dutch, Indians massacred Anne, her servants and five of her children. While this news horrified some her friends in the Massachusetts Bay community, others viewed it as God’s final judgment of her blasphemy.

The same issues raised by Anne Hutchinson are still very much with us today -- spiritual freedom, the role of women in the church, the issue of individual freedom versus being part of a covenant community. We also deal with the question of how we know God. Do we only accept tradition, or are new ways OK? How do we know when our traditions are life-giving and valuable? And how can we tell when our traditions imprison us? Keep these questions in mind as we read our second scripture.

You should imitate me, just as I imitate Christ.I am so glad that you always keep me in your thoughts, and that you are following the teachings I passed on to you. But there is one thing I want you to know: The head of every man is Christ, the head of woman is man, and the head of Christ is God. A man dishonors his head if he covers his head while praying or prophesying. But a woman dishonors her head if she prays or prophesies without a covering on her head, for this is the same as shaving her head. Yes, if she refuses to wear a head covering, she should cut off all her hair! But since it is shameful for a woman to have her hair cut or her head shaved, she should wear a covering. A man should not wear anything on his head when worshiping, for man is made in God’s image and reflects God’s glory. And woman reflects man’s glory (1 Cor. 11:1-7).

What are we going to do with that doozy? It’s in the Bible, so we traditionally affirm that God has something to say to us in these verses. Paul later says, “If anyone wants to be contentious about his, we have no other practice – nor do the churches of God.” Case closed. End of discussion. Really? How many women here will agree to wear head coverings as a sign of submission to men’s authority?

Our Puritan women ancestors covered their heads in worship. When our church was founded in 1730, men and women sat separately. Women were not allowed to preach or teach in worship. Yet, they were the backbone of the nonconformist movement. In Puritan New England, a woman’s duty was household religion. Women helped found new churches, participated in public demonstrations and acts of symbolic defiance. Women wrote, translated, and printed religious literature. Some women even became involved directly in the government and ministry of the church, especially in England.

But the tradition held firm – no women were allowed to preach or teach in church. The tradition directly the apostle Paul, who insisted it’s disgraceful for a woman to speak in church (1 Cor. 14:35). If a woman has a question at church, she should wait and ask her husband at home. Having been silenced, women like Anne Hutchinson turned to the Holy Spirit to find direct, personal revelation. The men who governed civil and religious life didn’t like it. As some women found spiritual freedom, authorities tried to repress self-expression. Later on, evangelicalism would foster this enthusiasm for the Holy Spirit that appealed to the powerless members of society.

In 2008, there are still Christian churches that don’t let women speak during worship. Women are excluded from authoritative teaching. They may not read scripture publicly. Why? Because Paul said so in the Bible. Because that’s our tradition, in word and in letter. In some Christian churches, women still need to cover their heads and wear long skirts to cover their legs.

At TCC, we’ve obviously gotten past this. The first ordination of a woman took place in a congregational church -- Antoinette Brown in 1853. Today, denominations like the UCC, PCUSA, and United Reformed Church will reject ministerial candidates who are against the ordination of women. Liberal mainline churches think that this issue is a no-brainer. Too bad this is not the case for all churches. In 1995, The Christian Reformed Church voted to allow women ministers. In 1998, the North American Presbyterian and Reformed Council suspended the Christian Reformed Church’s membership because of this decision. The Southern Baptist Convention, the largest protestant body in the US, actually revoked the ordination of women. In a statement issued in 2000, the Southern Baptists said, “While both men and women are gifted for service in the church, the office of pastor is limited to men as qualified by Scripture.” Their existing female pastors are allowed to remain, but no new female pastors will be ordained.

All of this is prolegomena for getting to my question. In our first reading, Paul says, “Stand firm. Hold to traditions.” During our cottage meetings last Spring, we affirmed that one of TCC’s core values is to honor our cherished traditions as life-giving witnesses to us and to future generations. But which traditions? We certainly don’t follow Paul’s teachings on women any more. How do we know which cherished traditions hold us back? How do we honor the traditions that help us live faithfully into the future? We need to find ways to hear God’s voice in our traditions and decide whether they are life giving or death dealing.

The story of TCC’s traditions takes on mythic qualities. Some of today’s church members still echo the sentiment of one local historian who wrote, “It can only be hoped that the legend is correct. Nothing could be more fitting than that a Puritan Church should take form, and its principles first be heard under the cathedralled trees in the wilderness of a new world of freedom.” The mythological significance of TCC’s founding continues to nurture the lives of its worshipers and helps define who the church is today. We believe that what we teach, how we express ourselves in worship, and how we live are important enough to pass on to others.

The church building itself has the ability to make the past come to life and reproduce the past. Sometimes I invite groups of people to sit in the sanctuary and tell me about meaningful experiences, remarkable sermons, and significant family events. As people talk, the walls come alive as if the space is able to hold these memories for generations. Some stories are forgotten, waiting to be heard again. For example, TCC’s first pastor, the Rev. James Beebe owned two slaves, Nero and Peg, who were admitted into church membership. Who tells Nero and Peg’s story as part of the living tradition? While we tell stories of a pleasant church home and cozy memories, we must also listen for the stories of those on the margins. As we tell our stories to future generations, we remember that there are hidden stories waiting to be told – unstoried traditions waiting to live.

When do we hear God’s voice in tradition? The word tradition comes from Latin. It can mean to hand on – as in passing on a teaching from generation to generation. It can also mean to hand over, as in betrayal. Our traditions can help us faithfully reproduce, or our traditions can betray us.

I propose that we test our traditions by listening for the voice of God in them as a community. Our traditions pull us forward to God. At the same time, our life-giving traditions anchor us to God. One of the earliest images of the church in Christian art is a boat. Throughout church history, warnings abound that we must stay anchored to the Bible and tradition as we enter the choppy waters of life. We remain grounded in our faith. We can become so grounded – so comfortable -- that we decide never to leave the docks. But don’t boats belong on the high seas? Shouldn’t a boat be in forward motion? How can the church move into the future when it’s anchored?

Imagine what would happen if we cast our anchor of tradition into the future and winched our way toward it. There is an ancient shipping practice called kedging. When storms or turbulent seas threatened a ship that was docked in a harbor, a crew of eight or nine sailors would be sent out in a launch. Their mission was to haul the ship’s anchor out into the sea as far as the chain would take them. The anchor would be let down and the ship winched forward into deeper water on the anchor chain. This practice also helps a boat move when there is no wind. Our job is to let traditions guide us into the future – to make our past current.

Some traditions are not worth passing on. They betray us. They do not deliver us to the future or firmly anchor us to God. When we identify a tradition that subjugates or suppresses another – whenever our past exiles, or excludes – it does not give life. We do not hear God’s direct voice in scriptural texts that marginalize or abandon others. If our traditions are not based on Christ’s self-giving love for all, then they are not of God. If our traditions lead to complacency or anxious over-focus on survival, they do not serve us.

On a dangerous seacoast where shipwrecks often occur, there was once a crude little lifesaving station. The building was no more than a hut, and there was only one boat; but the few devoted members kept a constant watch over the sea. They went out day and night, tirelessly searching for the lost. Some of those who were saved wanted to be associated with the station and give their time, money, and effort to support the work. New boats were bought and new crews trained. The little lifesaving station grew. Some of these new members of the lifesaving station were unhappy that the building was so small and crude. They felt that a more comfortable place should be provided for those who were saved from the sea. They replaced the emergency cots with beds and put better furniture in the enlarged building. Now the lifesaving station became a popular gathering place for its members, and they decorated it beautifully and furnished it exquisitely because they used it as sort of a club. Fewer members were now interested in going to sea on lifesaving missions, so they hired lifeboat crews to do this work.

About this time, a large ship was wrecked off the coast, and the hired crews brought in boatloads of cold, wet, half-drowned people. They were dirty and sick, and some of them were foreigners. The beautiful new club was in chaos. Immediately, the property committee hired someone to rig up a shower house outside the club, where victims of shipwrecks could be cleaned up before coming inside. At the next meeting, there was a split in the club membership. Most of the members wanted to stop the club’s lifesaving activities because they felt they were unpleasant and a hindrance to the normal social life of the club. A small number of members insisted upon lifesaving as their primary purpose and pointed out that they were still called a lifesaving station. The small group’s members were voted down and told that if they wanted to save lives, they could begin their own lifesaving station down the coast.

As the years went by, however, the new station experienced the same changes that had occurred in the old station. It evolved into a club, so another lifesaving station was founded. History continued to repeat itself, and if you visit that seacoast today, you will find a number of exclusive clubs along that shore. Shipwrecks are frequent in those waters, but most of the passengers drown.

Herein lies the role of tradition at TCC: tradition grounds us so that we have the courage to set sail. To move ahead in confidence by casting our tradition forward and grasping the hope that is set before us. We include everyone in what God has in store for us. Those who are long time members and those who are new comers, those who are comfortable an those who are drowning, those who are in the center of the action and those who sit on the margins – we all have a place in telling the traditions and moving forward together into God’s future.


Sources:

Nugent, Madeline Pecora. 1989. “Apologizing to Anne Hutchinson.” Christian Century 106, no. 10: 304-305. ATLA Religion Database with ATLASerials, EBSCOhost (accessed September 18, 2008). See also: http://www.annehutchinson.com/anne_hutchinson_biography_004.htm

Greaves, Richard L. 1983. “The role of women in early English nonconformity.” Church History 52, no. 3: 299-311. ATLA Religion Database with ATLASerials, EBSCOhost (accessed September 18, 2008).

http://www.religioustolerance.org/femclrg13.htm

Beach, E. Merrill. Trumbull: Church and Town. Trumbull, CT: The Trumbull Historical Society, 1955. 23.

Honoring the Past, Building the Future. Trumbull, CT: Trumbull Congregational church, 1992. 2.

Sweet, Leonard. Aqua Church. Loveland, Co: Group, 1999. 72-73.

Sermon for Sunday, September 14, 2008

Core Values: Prayer, Study and Service
John 8:31-41 (Ephesians 4:17-25)

“Jesus has a very special love for you . . .but as for me, the silence and the emptiness are so great, that I look and do not see, …listen but do not hear. Where is my faith? Deep down there is nothing, but emptiness and darkness. My God, how painful is this unknown pain. I have no Faith. I dare not utter the words and thoughts that crowd in my heart, and make me suffer untold agony. So many unanswered questions live within me I am afraid to uncover them because of the blasphemy. If there be God, please forgive me. When I try to raise my thoughts to heaven, there is such convicting emptiness that those very thoughts return like sharp knives and hurt my very soul. I am told God loves me, and yet the reality of darkness and coldness and emptiness is so great that nothing touches my soul.”

Guess who wrote those words. Mother Theresa, of all people! Her personal writings reveal that for the last half-century of her life she felt no presence of God whatsoever, neither in her heart or in worship.

In today’s reading, Jesus says, “You are truly my disciples if you remain faithful to my teachings. And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” But how many of us can truly claim that we know that freedom? If spiritual powerhouses like Mother Theresa struggle to know God, what can we expect for ourselves? How many of us here today can say we have remained faithful to Christ’s teachings and feel free from the cycles of depression, or addiction, or violence that life offers? How many of you came here today feeling that you remain faithful to God, but you secretly wonder if God notices, if God cares, if God’s presence truly has the power to transform you and your family?

In today’s gospel reading, we meet some people who also miss out on knowing God. They say, “We are children of Abraham.” They insist that their lineage guarantees them God’s blessing. They believe that birth determines character and that having the proper ancestors assures divine favor. They assume that their identification with Abraham should be enough to set them free.

Then Jesus, a child of Abraham himself, makes the social compass go haywire. He says they are not free because they have not made a place for his word in their lives. Knowing God’s favor has nothing to do with who your mom and dad are. Identification with God doesn’t depend on social status. Jesus insists that whoever is from God hears the words of God. If you don’t hear, you are not from God. Character and behavior determine one’s freedom, not one’s lineage.

One of our core values at TCC is that we are at our best when WE make room for God’s word. We insist that just having our names on the membership rolls of a church does not set a person free. God doesn’t pay attention to us just because we worship at the oldest church in town. What distinguishes true disciples of Christ is abiding in the Word, not loyalty to tradition. Freedom comes from remaining in God’s Word, and we do that through prayer, study, and service.

1. Prayer. If the truth sets us free, then prayer is how we listen for truth. Prayer is the act of seeing reality from God’s point of view. Prayer is about not losing heart when the heart seems empty. It’s about keeping a watch for God when tragedy destroys our cities and our families are scattered or destroyed. We pray even when we don’t always see God’s face or feel God’s presence. If we can’t pray, it’s because we do not believe that God acts, that God is a creator, that God takes a hand in reality. We get stuck because we do not believe God would want to change divine will to suit our prayer, to lead us to where God’s will and ours mingle in agreement.

Judaism has a concept called the Bat Kohl. It means “Daughter’s Voice.” Jewish mystics understood it as an audible voice from heaven and a manifestation of the Holy Spirit. Rabbi Rami Shapiro writes about his experience with the Bat Kohl. He experimented with an ancient Rabbi’s teaching about spontaneous, private prayer. The one praying pours out the heart to God, describing all one’s thoughts, feelings, problems and frustrations. Shapiro devoted himself to one hour of prayer a day. He prayed for weeks before he heard the Bat Kol, the Daughter’s Voice. For Shapiro, the Voice was clearly female, and it heralded an encounter to the Divine Feminine, God as Mother. He still hears the voice, and Her answer to his prayers is always the same: “Sweetheart, drop the drama and look at the truth, then you will know what to do, even if you choose not to do it. Here, let me help you.” Shapiro writes, “God’s help is rarely pleasant. Having my story wrenched from my grasp, being stripped naked emotionally and intellectually, and forced to see what is rather than what I so desperately want there to be, is humbling and often terrifying, and always profoundly liberating. And it is done with such love and compassion that in the end I fall into Her arms in selfless surrender.”

Prayer brings freedom. Prayer helps us discover the truth about who God is. Prayer reveals who we are. Prayer shows us the world for what it is, and gives us hope for its beautiful possibilities. Prayer help us find the truth.

2. Study. If prayer helps us listen for truth, study helps us know truth. Prayer helps us listen to our God who still speaks to us. Study confirms what we heard as we seek to align God’s voice with the words God has spoken through scripture. Does the thought of opening a Bible fill you with excitement? Do you listen to Scripture and read it expecting God to speak? Most people I talk to tell me that they don’t read the Bible because they don’t understand it. Some were raised in religious traditions where no one but the priest was allowed to read and interpret scripture. Some people are distracted by murders, holy wars, and fallacies in the biblical texts. Whatever the reason, we are left with a problem. The Bible is our holy book, and many Christians don’t know what’s inside. The most widely known Bible verse among Christians is “God helps those who help themselves”—and those words aren’t even in the Bible. They are from Ben Franklin.

Many of us in the church sit on our hands, thinking to ourselves, “I need more knowledge. I need to know God is real. I need a sign. I can’t do anything with my faith until I have more assurance.” Our core values affirm that we can know God through the study of Scripture, and that knowledge brings us freedom. I don’t want to limit the ways in which we hear God. God can communicate truth with us in surprising and unexpected ways. But we affirm that the predominate way to know truth is to study Scripture. When we open our sacred writings, God speaks to us as a covenant partner.

A couple of years ago, in the wake of the death of legendary ABC News anchor Peter Jennings, reporters reflected far and wide about his life. I remember one report centering on his love and admiration for America. Jennings, a citizen of Canada, always carried a copy of the Constitution of the United States in his back pocket. He marveled that a country as vast and diverse as America could be held together by a single document less than 10,000 words in length. Peter Jennings secretly became a citizen of the United States of America.

Our constitution, as the People of God, is the word of God. We would do well to carry it in our back pocket at all times and consult it often that it may become hidden in our heart and revealed through our life. Scripture nourishes of our vast and diverse life together as God’s people. Just as the Constitution of the United States outlines the articles of free people, so our scriptures bring freedom to the inhabitants of God’s kingdom. Read it, alone and together, and allow it to speak to you.

3. Service. In prayer we find the truth. Through study we know the truth. But we don’t stop there. We also serve others, and in service, we live the truth. God speaks to us because God wants us to respond. If we really understand God’s love and how God is speaking it to us, we will do something to let God know that we understand. Our duty is hear the Word, and to trust and obey it in life and death. We are liberators who free others from the shackles of despair with the Word of love.

In his book entitled The Man who Planted Trees, Jean Giono tells the story of a shepherd he met in 1913 in the French Alps. Because of careless deforestation, the mountains around Provence, France were barren. Former villages were deserted. Springs and brooks had run dry. The wind blew furiously, unimpeded by foliage. While mountain climbing, Giono came to a shepherd’s hut where he was invited to spend the night. After dinner, Giono watched the shepherd meticulously sort through a pile of acorns, discarding those that were cracked or undersized. When the shepherd had counted out 100 perfect acorns, he stopped for the night and went to bed. Giono learned that the fifty-five-year-old shepherd had been planting trees on the wild hillsides for over three years. He had planted 100,000 trees, 20,000 of which had sprouted. Of those, he expected half to be eaten by rodents or die due to the elements, and the other half to live.

After World War I, Giono returned to the mountainside and discovered incredible rehabilitation: There was now a forest, accompanied by a chain reaction in nature. Water flowed in the once-empty brooks. The ecology, sheltered by a leafy roof and bonded to the earth by a mat of spreading roots, became hospitable. Willows, rushes, meadows, gardens, and flowers were birthed.

Giono returned again after World War II. Twenty miles from the lines, the shepherd had continued his work, ignoring the war of 1939 just as he had ignored that of 1914. The reformation of the land continued. Whole regions glowed with health and prosperity. Giono writes, “On the site of the ruins I had seen in 1913 now stand neat farms . . . The old streams, fed by the rains and snows that the forest conserves, are flowing again . . . Little by little, the villages have been rebuilt. People from the plains, where land is costly, have settled here, bringing youth, motion, the spirit of adventure."

Acts of service are like spiritual reforestation. We dig holes in barren land and plant the seeds of life. Through these seeds, dry spiritual wastelands are transformed into harvestable fields. Life-giving water is brought to parched and barren souls. Lives are rebuilt. People begin to know healing and restoration. And that, my friends, is freedom.

Freedom is not about belonging to the right church, or the best family. It’s not about being at the right place at the right time. Jesus says it’s about take a new way of life—a God-fashioned life, a word-centered life -- a life renewed from the inside and working itself into your conduct as God’s character reproduces in you (Ephesians 4:25). We are at our best when we take time for prayer, study, and service. We listen, we know, and we live the word of God. And in the process, we find the freedom God offers the world.

Sermon for September 7, 2008

Our Core Values: A Vision for TCC
Micah 4:1-5, 1 John 4:21

In the course of history, big people with big ideas make a big impact on world history. Sometimes, people of little notoriety with big ideas make a small ripple on the lake of history. The ripple expands, slowly spreading out, gaining momentum, and reaching many over time. Micah is one of these people. Micah prefers the simplicity of the country to the commotion of city life. The capitol city Jerusalem offers nothing that he can’t get at home or just do without. And like many people who live in forgotten rural areas, Micah is a patriot. He sees what the national leaders do to his country and he is outraged. Greedy leaders kill others for money and power. The King of Judah raises taxes to build luxurious fortresses and palaces for himself while the common people in the country suffer. Nobles fleece the poor, judges accept bribes, and religious leaders are more interested in wealth than truth. And Micah is mad (see Micah 3:11; 7:1-7).

Micah knows history. He knows that God entered into a mutual covenant with Abraham. He knows that God promised to make Abraham’s future generations prosper if Abraham made every effort to worship and follow God alone. Micah knows history. He knows God rescued Israel from slavery in Egypt, and used the prophet Moses and the priest Aaron to lead them to the promised land. Micah remembers that in return for their salvation, the people promised to worship the God of Israel alone and to take care of each other. Micah knows history, but it seems like no one else does. In every sector of public life, the leaders don’t seem to remember God’s promises and their commitments. They don’t remember that God is reluctant to punish, and that there is sorrow in God’s anger. But Micah knows history, and the knowledge torments him. Micah not only knows where his people have been, he also clearly sees where they are.

The power of God comes upon Micah to declare his people’s sins to them (3:8). Micah hurls bitter words at his leaders:

Listen, you leaders of Israel! You are supposed to know right from wrong, but you are the very ones who hate good and love evil. You skin my people alive and tear the flesh off their bones. (3:1-2, NLT).

He relentlessly predicts disaster and disgrace for the leaders and the nation. And he stands utterly alone. Micah’s standards are too high, his stature is too small, and his concern is too intense. You wouldn’t invite Micah to a dinner party. He ruins gatherings with his doom and gloom. He never encourages people. He’s so negative. But Micah won’t back down. He knows that those who live selfish and luxurious lives on the backs of the poor, even though they offer costly sacrifices, suck the lifeblood of the nation.

Imagine Micah’s anguished frustration. He knows that severe punishment is at hand. He knows where Israel has been and where they are. He also plainly understands where they are going. And while it seems that Israel is facing some tough times, Micah sees the bigger picture. He knows that God has great things planned for Israel. Micah reminds them that one day a promised ruler from Bethlehem will come and lead Israel with justice–a true shepherd who will bring peace. He tells everyone that a religious and political revival like no one has ever imagined is coming. Jerusalem will become the most important place on earth. People from all nations will stream into Jerusalem to be in God’s presence. God alone will speak and settle international disputes. Poor farmers will no longer have to support a military state while their families starve, for all wars will stop and military training will come to an end. Swords shall be beaten into plowshares. True lasting peace and prosperity will reign. And Micah can put forth this awesome vision because he understands where they have come from, where they are, and where they are going.

Micah inspires me. I’m no prophet for sure, but in the big picture I am a little guy with big dreams who is ready to make a little impact with a big wake. It’s funny, though, how one’s perspective changes overtime. Especially with religious experiences. I’ve been baptized three times – my mother baptized me Catholic, then promptly left the Catholic church to join the Congregationalists. I was baptized a second time in the UCC. In my teen years, I walked away from the congregational church and became a born-again Baptist, complete with a third baptism. I’ve spent time worshiping with the Christian and Missionary Alliance in a YMCA, attended an evangelical liberal arts school with a degree in biblical studies, and was ordained in a very conservative Presbyterian church near Boston. I used to hand out biblical literature in shopping malls and preach the gospel from city park benches. I only listened to worship music, and I pledged that I would never let me love for God grow cold. I would drop by acquaintances houses unannounced and try to convert them to my brand of Christianity. For a while, it was a happy world. I knew what I believed. I knew where I stood. Today I stand in a different place.

I don’t know if I can pinpoint the exact date the change happened. When I look back at who I was and what I believed four years ago, I realize that I have redefined by beliefs since coming to TCC. I no longer believe what I preached and taught in the past. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure it out – what I believe and what I don’t, reconciling my views with my understanding of Scripture. I’ve come to think of life as a journey. We never arrive at the final destination of our faith while we are alive. As we travel closer to the heart of God, we get rid of heavy baggage that we don’t need. We pick up a few helpful items along the way. We try new things. We also continue to use the tried and true articles that have been helpful in the past. We look back where from where we’ve come, we take stock of the present moment with its challenges and blessings. But we also keep moving on. In that process, I have become that which I used to dread and fear the most. I’ve been trying to hide it with phrases like progressive evangelical, but the truth is, I’ve become a liberal (Some of you may hear this little confession of mine and become disgusted. You will hear the word liberal and fill it with your assumptions. It’s OK! I used to be in the same place as you. I still do it, too. We tend to think in terms of absolutes and categories).

So, let me tell you where my faith is going. I still listen for call of Micah and Jesus: to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim freedom to prisoners, recovery of sight to the blind, release to the oppressed, and the favor of God (Lk. 4:18-19). What defines me as a Christian is the quality of my love. For me, that means making faith a matter of community responsibility, not just personal commitments. It means remembering that being a Christian is more than personal piety–it has everything to do with how we work for justice, show mercy, and walk humbly with God (Micah 6:8). It means that I am no longer willing to prescribe what someone else’s Christian journey has to look like–not judging and condemning but learning the power of forgiveness and of being forgiven (Lk. 6:37-38). I want to walk with you on your path of discovery -- to help you find your own way as you seek to learn about what experiencing God’s favor means to you and those around you.

I believe that the possibility of a new way of life is the gift of God, whose beloved Son died for sin and rose to conquer it. My deepest conviction is that we are called to pour out our lives for one another as Christ Jesus did on our behalf. I believe that a world for God is a world transformed.
· It is a world where we are free to pursue the common good without becoming the enemy of a sullen, hostile, and suspicious government.
· A world in which the poor are fed.
· A world in which the homeless are sheltered.
· A world in which the prisoners are treated humanely.
· A world in which economic opportunity is shared by all, for the good of all.
· A world in which race is no barrier.
· A world in which love and fidelity is rewarded.
· A world in which soldiers' sacrifice is not wasted on vanity and greed.
· A world in which swords are beaten into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks.
· A world where we are united in our commonalities instead of excluded by our differences.
· A world in which neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us one from the love God has for us and that we show to one another.

That is my goal. That is my desire. That is the challenge I present to the status quo. That is where I am going. And I invite others to share their journeys with me as we seek to do God’s work and understand God’s plan together.

Let me tell you about a group of people I know. They live in a beautiful and vital town that seems to remain very stable, even when the world around them is falling apart. Their town was one of Money magazine’s best 100 places to live in the USA in 2007. These give money to their church and other ministries in the community. They have had some disappointments, some fights and struggles. They have also experienced great joys and successes. The people I have in mind do not primarily go to their church because they are drawn to congregational church government. They come because they want to be encouraged, and supported. They want to connect with God and one another. They want to raise their kids and grand-kids with strong morals and traditional faith.

If you haven’t figured it our yet, I’m talking about you. I think you are great. You keep things going, even in tough times. Money keeps coming. Sunday School continues. Volunteers step up. And despite ups and downs, you have made it clear that this church has an important place in your lives and in the community–that life would be poorer if there was no longer a congregational church on the corner of White Plains Rd. and Reservoir Ave.

But I need to ask, like Micah asked his people, and like I asked myself: where are you going? What do you stand for, and where will it take you? We are starting to get a glimpse of our future possibilities. After last Spring’s cottage meetings, the facilitators and I drafted a document called “Sustaining TCC at Our Best; A statement of Vision." I hope you have had a chance to look at this statement of the core values that the members and friends of this church expressed. Listen to what we affirm:

As members of the Trumbull Congregational Church, our common life is rooted in Christ’s greatest commandment – to love God and to love one another. In light of this shared value, we aspire:
· To see a deeper relationship with God through prayer, study and service.
· To honor our cherished traditions as life-giving witnesses to us and to future generations.
· To encourage hospitality, extending a generous welcome to all our members, friends, and visitors. No one is a stranger here.
· To grow a church family that embraces diversity within a safe, positive, and nurturing environment.
· To move beyond simple tolerance toward genuine understanding. We recognize that all people are free to make choices regarding their own personal and spiritual journeys.
· To listen attentively, seek others’ opinions, and understand that differing values do exist within our church family.
· To deal with disagreements constructively, communicating with others in a direct, caring, and responsible manner.
· To recognize that children and youth are a vital part of our church family and to welcome them into all aspects of church life.
· To express gratitude and support for the staff, church members and friends who volunteer their time and talents in support of the programs and governance of the church.
· To extend God’s love, through service and outreach, to t hose in the community and the world, as best as we are able.

Trumbull Congregational Church, you know where you’ve been. You know where you are. We are a mixed bunch here: liberals open to pluralism and free thought; Evangelicals with fervor and determination to follow Jesus Christ as revealed in Scripture; traditionalists and iconoclasts. But do you know where you’re going? Our vision for the future affirms that love covers differences and unites strangers. It is a high and hard calling because it is nothing less becoming a beacon to a world that rarely finds wider unity in sustained ways. It’s a vision of what it means for us to be followers of Christ. Do you know where we are going? The path is ahead, the path of Christ’s love ready for us to travel together. May God give us a new vision, and the courage to listen and follow together.

Sources:
· Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Prophets, vol. 1 (New York: Harper:1962), 98-102.
· George Robinson, The 12 Minor Prophets (Grand Rapids: Baker,1926), 94-105
· http://money.cnn.com/galleries/2007/moneymag/0707/gallery.BPTL_top_100.moneymag/68.html
· Life Together: An Agenda For Progressive Religion by Dan Schultz http://www.progressivechristianwitness.org/pcw/pdf/Expl_SchulzLifeTogether.pdf
· When Narrative Identities Clash: Liberals versus Evangelicals by Wesley J. Wildman, http://www.progressivechristianwitness.org/pcw/pdf/Expl_WildmanNarrative.pdf

Sermon for Sunday, August 31, 2008

What God Intends
Romans 12:9-21

Driving down White Plains Road, motorists see the street sign for the Trumbull Congregational Church. One of our deacons is in charge of updating the sign with quotes to entertain passing motorists. Once the sign said, “Don’t worry, Moses was also a basket case.” Another read, “Autumn leaves, Jesus doesn’t.” Right now the sign says, “God blesses us, even when we don’t sneeze.” I remember a moment about one year ago. Driving by the sign with a friend, my passenger read the latest message and groaned. It said, “Warning: Church may induce extreme bouts of happiness.” My cynical passenger turned to me and said, “It should be more like, ‘Warning: Church may cause extreme bouts of frustration.’ ” I laughed, knowing that his comments echo the response that many have towards church.

As a pastor, I am also frustrated by a religious institution that exists within twin realities. The first reality is that the church seems to fail in its mission. As one Christian theologian writes, “That the treasure of God’s grace reaches us surrounded by garbage will not seem surprising to anyone who is personally familiar with life in the church. Church history provides ample evidence of that garbage.” His words affirm something that I love and hate about the church: it is a human institution. We in the church make mistakes. We act like hypocrites. Idolatry tempts us as we seek to honor the values of God’s reign.

Another historic church document expresses the second reality of church existence. It states, “The Church of Jesus Christ is the provisional demonstration of what God intends for all of humanity.” This is an amazing thing to say, isn’t it? God is using us, here and now, to show our community what God intends! Though the church may slog through its garbage, we also embody Christ’s redemptive presence in the world. The church remains a place of haven, the bearer of living traditions and the unlikely body of Christ. However, like the passenger in my car, you may hear this affirmation of the church’s purpose and be tempted to say, “You gotta’ be kidding me! Can’t the church do better?” Welcome to the church, folks.

The Good News is that you just heard an invitation: right now, as you are, you can be a part of something -- specifically, a member of the Body of Christ. The tricky part is that the Body of Christ includes a lot of people who are every bit as difficult as we are.

A recent study claims that most churchgoers who abandon their weekly worship do so because they have had a dispute with a fellow member of the congregation. A disagreement on a range of issues, from the way the organ is played to the content of the sermon, was the reason that nearly three quarters of respondents to a survey gave for why they felt people had left the Church. People don’t usually leave over big doctrinal issues. Typical arguments take place over types of buildings, styles of worship, youth work. If not that, then they argue over the flowers.

Once people start arguing, it’s easy to keep it going. There are some simple steps you can follow if you want to turn disagreements into full-fledged feuds. Here’s what to do:

1. Be sure to develop and maintain a healthy fear of conflict, letting your own feelings build up so you are in an explosive frame of mind.
2. If you must state your concerns, be as vague and general as possible. Then the other person can’t do anything practical to change the situation.
3. Next, repeat these words to yourself regularly: “My mind is made up. Don’t confuse me with the facts.” Assume you know everything and you are totally right. It will help if you can misquote a Bible verse to clinch your case. Just make sure you do most of the talking.
4. With a touch of defiance, announce your willingness to talk with anyone who wishes to discuss the problem with you. But do not take steps to initiate such conversation.
5. Latch tenaciously onto whatever evidence you can find that shows the other person is merely jealous of you.
6. Judge the motivation of the other party on any previous experience that showed failure or unkindness. Keep track of any angry words.
7. Always view the issue as a win/lose struggle. Avoid possible solutions and go for total victory and unconditional surrender. Don’t get too many options on the table.
8. If all else fails, pass the buck! If you are about to get cornered into a solution, indicate you are without power to settle; you need your partner, your committee, whatever.

Of course, there’s another way. Our Reformed protestant tradition reminds us that the church is a servant for the reconciliation of the world. The local expression of the church is called to be a sign in and for the world of the new reality that God has made available in Jesus Christ. Our job is to communicate the reality of God’s grace to one another and the surrounding community.

Jesus gives some practical advice on how to handle arguments and conflicts within the church. Listen to what he tells his followers: “If another believer sins against you, go privately and point out the offense. If the other person listens and confesses it, you have won that person back. But if you are unsuccessful, take one or two others with you and go back again, so that everything you say may be confirmed by two or three witnesses. If the person still refuses to listen, take your case to the church.”

The first thing we learn is that we're to approach the person whose behavior hurt us directly, and privately. That way, the person you're speaking with has room to listen without losing face. And you have room to listen to other person, just in case your behavior has contributed negatively to the situation.

The quiet conversation isn't just a necessary step to a juicy public drama, nor is it solely an opportunity to try to get one's way. Our goal is reconciliation.

In other words, church conflict doesn't have to be a distraction from the mission of the Church; it can be a training ground for mission. It can even BE mission. As Christians, we believe that Christ is reconciling the whole world to God and to one another. So when two Christians take their conflict as an opportunity to practice reconciliation, the way they handle it can stand as a visible sign for we believe Christ is doing in the world. We are doing what God intends. Get it? We become an outward and visible sign of a grace that we believe is happening in a broader and more mysterious way in the world.

The bottom line is that Christian community -- all community, really -- is, as St. Benedict said, a “school for souls,” in which we learn not just how to live, but also how to experience abundant life. Jesus knew something that experience has affirmed for me: we understand best and deepest how God loves and forgives when we are, in our limited but growing way, extending that kind of love and forgiveness to others.

So when you meet people who are really difficult, stay in touch, and stay focused on God's love. Rejoice and be glad in that day. You get to love them. In the process you get a sense of how God loves you, and those who are watching get to see how much we mean it when we acclaim that the church is the demonstration of what God intends for humanity.

Trust me on this one: as long as you need everybody to be happy and agreeable, you'll always be anxious, but once you find and keep hold of the joy and peace the Spirit brings in the midst of working for reconciliation in a tense situation, you'll know a bubbling fountain of energy and freedom that can bring healing. Being human means that we will face times when we are angry, confused, or blind. Faithfulness to God can lead us to gratitude – an ability to focus on the good things God does in our midst, and not just on the ways we separate from one another. As Paul writes

... love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor. ... Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. ... Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are. Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all. If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.

Sermon for August Sunday 24, 2008

All or Nothing
Matthew 16:13-28

History records that he was a great man. Yet he had humble beginnings. He grew up in a small village, an ordinary boy who did not do much to draw attention to himself. He worked in the family business and did his best to grow up strong and healthy. Deep inside, however, he knew he had a special purpose – a destiny to fulfill. As he grew older, people began to notice that there was something special about this young man. He had talent and charisma. He was gifted like no other. It wasn’t long before he started attracting crowds. Thousands came to see and listen to him. He chose a small band of loyal companions who traveled with him everywhere he went. Many of them had given up their jobs just to be with their leader and take care of his needs. As his fame spread, some grew jealous of him. But his popularity only increased. He touched the lives of young and old alike, and brought joy and laughter to the downhearted. Many hailed him as a king. Toward the end of his short life, he suffered quite a bit. Some who followed him fell away and turned to others. He died alone. Those closest to him where left discouraged and confused. They never expected his life to end that way. Soon after his death, there were rumors that he didn’t really die. His followers spread the news all around. “He lives!” they said. “He is not dead!” Some claimed they actually saw him. Even today, many believe he is still alive. By now you’ve probably figured out who this great man was.

His name was Elvis Presley.

Funny how we can play with words, isn’t it? We use words to describe a certain reality. But the same words can turn reality on its head. Add different languages to the mix, and communication becomes more interesting. Our girls from Ethiopia use the word “kaka” a lot. Like English, if something is kaka, it’s dirty or yucky. We say, “Don’t touch that trash. It’s kaka!” Imagine if I said the same thing to a Swede. In Sweden, kaka means cake. Or imagine that I go to your house and you say to me, “Leave your shoes on the mats.” I will assume you want me to wipe my feet on the doormats you have by the door. Say the same thing to a Latvian, and see what kind of response you get. In Latvia, “mats” means hair. In Estonia, “mats” refers to a bumkin. Try wiping your shoes on a Latvians head and see what happens.

How do know what words mean? Have you ever thought about it? I can point at this item with onionskin thin pages and tiny print and say it’s a Bible. You all understand what I mean. But how? Some researchers say that words gain their meaning from relationships. To say “good morning” gains meaning from a relationship called a greeting. Each person takes a turn. There is typically an exchange of mutual glances or gestures and there are only a limited number of moves I can make after you say good morning to me. I can say “good morning,” or “how are you.” But you might consider it out of place if you said “good morning” and I responded by screaming or cuffing you in the head. And the words “good morning” don’t really mean anything outside of the act of greeting. If we are having an argument about immigration and I suddenly say, “good morning,” you might be puzzled. Words, then, gain their meaning through cultural understandings of reality.

So, if language portrays different understandings of reality, then how do we know the truth? How can we tell the difference between words that are true and words that are misleading? Truth telling is like playing a very specific game. When we engage in actions like describing, theorizing, or explaining, we follow specific rules that count as a proper description. Imagine a witness in court being sworn in to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth. The witness is then asked by a lawyer, “What happened this morning.” The witness is not allowed to just say anything, or to shout and jump up and down and start singing Swing Lo Sweet Chariot. We judge the words by how they function as truth-telling within the rules of the legal justice system.

If we take a word out of its context and place it within another, we call it a metaphor. The world is his oyster. Life is a bowl of cherries. The three-legged stool of social security. We don’t take these words literally, but they still speak truth to us. Consider what happens when disagreements turn into arguments. The experience is unpleasant. Voices are raised. Insults are exchanged. Instead of resolution, there is hatred. These outcomes can be tracked back to the metaphors we use to talk about argument. We says things like:
· Your claims are indefensible.
· I attacked every weak point in his argument.
· Her criticisms were right on target.
· He demolished her case.
· I’ve never won an argument with her.
· He shot down all my opinions.
In each of these statements, arguing is equated with war. Our words speak a certain truth that is appropriate to our culture. Win or lose. Kill or be destroyed. What would happen if we shifted the metaphor? What if we thought about arguing as a dance, or as space exploration? We might think of arguing as navigating towards resolution, or as a pirouette of ideas.

We set up these either/or situations with our words. Something is either true or false. Male or female. Free will or God’s will. Literal or Metaphor. All or Nothing. We often fail, however, to ask the deeper question: What kinds of people, institutions, laws, or faiths are favored when we speak in one set of terms as opposed to another? What ways of life are highlighted, and what ways of life are suppressed or destroyed?

In today’s reading, Peter makes a similar mistake. Peter gets an A on the first question of his test from Jesus. Jesus is the Messiah, God's anointed. The problem is that Peter is a victim of all-or-nothing thinking. Since Jesus is God's Messiah, God’s anointed savior, Peter assumes that Jesus is going to bring down Rome and marshal in the political salvation of Israel. Dying on a cross does not fit into that picture.

Jesus then uses a metaphor. He says to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan.” Let’s not be so hard on Peter. When he calls Jesus the Messiah, he speaks truth. He follows the rules of his time and culture about who the Messiah is and what he will do. He doesn’t understand that Jesus the Messiah works in opposition to the prevailing values, assumptions, and goals of the culture. Impetuous Peter is quick to blurt out that Jesus is the Messiah. It’s a good first step, but Jesus changes the rules of the game. This Messiah will suffer, and be killed, and rise on the third day. Peter thinks about God with the metaphor of power. Jesus thinks of the Messiah through the metaphor of a suffering servant. And all who come after Jesus must also take up crosses instead of weapons of power, and follow the suffering Messiah in order to find their lives.

What would you say to Jesus if he asked you the questions he asked Peter. “Who do you say I am?” Let’s think about some of the metaphors we use in our culture. For some people, God is the resident policeman, ready to pounce on you every time you do something wrong. As an old George Jones song says, “God’s gonna get’cha for that. There’s no place to run and hide, ‘cuz he knows where you’re at.”

Some people compare God to a wise old grandparent who is revered but hardly aware of the complexities and problems of life today. Author David Sedaris writes about his experience with his great grandmother – an old-school Greek Orthodox women dressed in black, burning incense, and referred to as YaYa. YaYa’s health fails, so the family reluctantly moves her into the family home. Sedaris writes:
My brother and I came to view our YaYa as a primitive version of an ATM machine. She was always good for a dollar or two, and because we were boys, all we had to do was open her car door or inform her the incense had just set fire to one of he embroidered cushions. I saw her as a benign ghost, silent and invisible until you needed a little spending money. One could always change the channel while YaYa was watching TV there was no need to ever ask. She could go from the Sate of the Union Address to a Bullwinkle cartoon without ever noticing the difference. You might sit with her in the living room, but never were you forced to get her snacks or acknowledge her in any way.
This is who God is for many people: silent and invisible but always present. Out of touch, slightly generous with a handout, but otherwise harmless and easy to ignore.

In church, we often call God Father. It is a metaphor for understanding some attributes of God. For some, this is a comforting image. For those who had bad relationships with their fathers, it’s a harder metaphor to grasp. Some people think of God as mother. But there we go again, falling into the trap of all-or-nothing thinking – coupling words together in pairings in which one has to be better than the other.

Maybe your idea God is the sentimental, meek-and-mild one who helplessly loves everyone. Some people picture a God who always lets them down. For others there is no God at all. How about you? What do you believe?

~~~~~~~~

The islands around Indonesia are the most beautiful in the world – crystalline tropical water, beautiful reefs with fish colored in every hue of the rainbow, powerful waves and tranquil bays. Tourists, surfers, and scuba divers from around the world have discovered these hidden jewels and pay lots of money to enjoy this unspoiled aquatic playground. But many of the locals won’t swim. Neither will they surf, wade, bathe, or do anything else that places their bodies near the ocean. For some, the fear of the water is so powerful that, even though they are surrounded by water and must sail in fishing boats to earn a living, many of the islanders have not learned how to swim. Why do they deny themselves the pleasure of exploring the natural wonders all around them? Because a long time ago, someone told them that the ocean was full of demons and that swimming in it would bring harm to them and their families. Many Indonesian islanders still believe it.

Just as these people miss the joy of frolicking in the surf, so there are people today who miss out on the great joy of knowing God. They believe that God is a cosmic killjoy who wants to take away their fun and make their lives dull, boring and utterly miserable. Nothing could be farther from the truth. But our words, the words that have become culturally acceptable ways for relating to God, sometimes fail us.

God is bigger than our perceptions. When we look inside of ourselves to try to understand God, we say, “God, you must only exist in the ways that I see, or hear, or touch, or feel you. I only know you through MY form of worship, MY style of prayer. MY views are the only correct ways to understand you.” The God-of-my-knowledge is not really God at all. I often hear people say that we put God in a box. We put boundaries around God and only allow God to respond in predictable ways. But I think it’s the other way around. We put ourselves in a box, closing out ears when the God of the universe speaks our name, closing our eyes surprises acts, numbing our senses to God’s all-embracing love.

We glimpse more of the true character of God when we focus on following Jesus, the suffering Christ. When we focus on yielding our lives to Christ, we discover one who shakes loose all the incomplete images of God we have cherished. Through Christ we can begin to understand that God is not impersonal and indifferent, but a living, personal being who is active and interested in creation at all times. God is not weak, ineffective, or petty, like our own relationships can sometimes be. God relates to us, and in the relationship, we discover truth. God shows gentleness, tenderness, sympathy, patience, and compassion. And God is overwhelmingly majestic in greatness.

Who do you say Jesus is? And what does Jesus tell you about God? Is he completely human or completely divine? Savior or moral teacher? Judge or friend? Son of God or son of man? Historical figure or mythological character? All or nothing? How about this for an answer: For once, let’s just keep quiet. Instead of the insistence of our words, let’s take some time to listen to what God has to say. We might just see the tiny God of our words evaporate, and we’ll be left in the presence of a mystery we will never fathom or control. We might even sense the loving and broken hearted at the center of things. We might even hear the call to pick up our crosses and follow. We might even encounter Jesus.

Sources:
Invitation to Social Constructionism by Kenneth Gergen
Your God is Too Small by J.B. Phillips
Naked by David Sedaris

Sermon for July 20, 2008

Rebuilding the Walls: The Opposition
Nehemiah 4:1-4:23

Do you remember what you were doing on December 22, 1984? In New York City it was a cold evening, a mere three days before Christmas. A man entered a subway car. He was 37 years old. Thin, almost frail. Balding and bespectacled. An electronics buff. Law abiding and timid. Certainly not the description you would give a vigilante. Certainly not the swashbuckler you would cast to play Robin Hood or the hero that you would hire to portray the Lone Ranger. But that didn’t bother the American public when this timid man’s story came out.

The unassertive passenger sat down next to four youths. They were a somewhat boisterous group, and the 15 or 20 other passengers moved to the other end of the subway car. One of the four, Troy Canty, asked Bernhard Goetz how he was doing. Then, brandishing sharpened screwdrivers, the teens threateningly encircled Goetz and ‘asked’ him for five dollars. Goetz took out a .38 caliber Smith and Wesson revolver and fired four shots at each of the four youths. He walked over to one of the youths who was seated next to the conductors cab and said “You seem to be all right; here’s another” and fired a fifth shot into his body. The youth, Darrel Cabey was turned away from Goetz and the bullet entered his left backside, severing his spinal cord. A passenger pulled the emergency cord. The train screeched to a halt and many of the passengers fled onto the tracks. A conductor approached Goetz and asked if he was a cop. When it became apparent that he was not, the conductor asked him for his gun. Goetz refused to hand it over, walked quietly to the front of the car and out the door. He jumped to the tracks below and disappeared into the dark of the subway tunnel. Three of the young kids lay bleeding on the floor of the train and Darrel Cabey sat wounded and paralyzed in the end seat.

Ray Kerrison, of the New York Post, wrote, “By their own admission [the teens] singled him out because he looked like the weakest target on the car. The total thug mentality -- hit the most helpless . . . So the play was four brutes against one sap -- or so they thought -- and if anyone doubts the potential violence these robbers could have inflicted on Goetz, they have only to study their subsequent criminal careers.”

About a week later Goetz walked into a police station in Concord, New Hampshire and gave himself up. He was turned over to New York authorities on January 3, 1985. Goetz instantly became a hero. A popular actress sent him a “love and kisses” telegram. “Thug-buster” T-shirts began to appear on the streets of New York City. A rock group wrote a song in his honor. People gave money to go toward his defense. Goetz was acquitted by a jury of all counts of murder, and was only found guilty of endangerment. Radio talk shows were deluged with callers. One radio host said, “They won’t let it go.” It’s not hard to see why.

Bernhard Goetz was an American fantasy come true. He did what every citizen wants to do. He fought back. He kicked the bully in the shins. He punched the villain in the nose. He clobbered the evil one over the head. This unassuming hero embodied nationwide anger, a passion for revenge. The outpouring of support gives clear evidence. Not much has changed. People are mad. People are angry. There is a growing, pent-up boiling rage that causes us to fondly remember the man who says, “I ain’t takin’ it no more!” and then comes out with a smoking pistol in each hand.

We’re tired of being bullied. We are sick of being intimidated by others. We’re angry at someone, but we don’t know who. We’re scared of something but we don’t know what. We want to fight back, but we don’t know how. So, when a modern day Wyatt Earp walks on the scene, we applaud him. He is speaking for us. “Way to go, Thug-buster. That’s the way to do it!”
Or is it? Is that really the way to do it?

An interesting side note to the story. In 1996, 12 years after the shootings, while OJ was filling the airwaves with the trial of the century, Goetz was sued by the paralyzed Darell Cabey in a civil suit. Goetz was found liable and ordered by the court to pay $4.3 million.

Let’s think about anger for a moment. Anger is a peculiar and predictable emotion. It begins as a drop of water–an irritant. A frustration. Nothing big, just an aggravation. Someone gets your parking space. Someone cuts you off. A waitress is slow when you are in a hurry. The toast burns. Yet, get enough of these innocent drops of anger and before long you’ve got a bucket full of rage. Walking revenge. Blind bitterness. We trust no one, and bare our teeth at anyone who gets near. Many become walking time bombs, ready to explode.

Now, is that any way to live? What good has hatred ever brought? What hope has anger ever created? What problems have ever been solved by revenge?

I would like to ask that to the enemies of Nehemiah in chapter 4.When Nehemiah arrives in Jerusalem in chapter 2, a man named Sanballat isn’t very happy. Initially Sanballat’s emotional discomfort with Nehemiah seems to be a minor irritation. He doesn’t really take Nehemiah’s presence very seriously. After all, what could one man do, even with the king’s approval? But once Nehemiah begins to rally the Jews, and pick up and rebuild the broken walls of Jerusalem, Sanballat’s displeasure intensifies. What was once a drop of minor irritation becomes a bucket full of hatred against this perceived threat to the security of the region. Sanballat, a leader in neighboring Samaria, feels like his power is slipping away from him. His reaction is a blend of fear and anger, with a tinge of insecurity. His report to his associates may have sounded something like this:

Nehemiah is a man to be reckoned with. He’s no fool. Under his leadership, these Jews are really serious about rebuilding the walls. They’re not as feeble as we think. They’re actually planning to restore Jerusalem and live in it, and they’re not wasting any time. They plan to complete the task as soon as possible, actually rebuilding it from dusty rubble. If they succeed, they will threaten our whole economy.

Sanballat’s angry opposition is popular with his friends. They get ready to attack and eliminate the threat. By the way, take note, this is neither the first nor the last time a group will try to eliminate the Jews from the Promised Land..

Nehemiah’s response to opposition is unexpected. Before anything else, Nehemiah goes to God. He prays. He aligns himself with the will of God. He refuses to drink from the cup of revenge. He will not be filled with bitterness and malice. No, Nehemiah prays. Then he rallies the people to continue with the hard work and protect the city.

How do people handle opposition? Today’s Scripture gives to views. Two methods. Nehemiah faced opposition, and he ardently sought after God’s will. Sanballat also felt that he faced opposition from Nehemiah and the Jews. Sanballat faced his opposition with vengeful rhetoric and violent conspiracies.

How do you face opposition? How do you handle it when you know, without a doubt, that you have a God-sized task to accomplish and someone or something is standing in your way? I don’t know about you, but I tend to give a knee-jerk, reactive response. To my disgust, I can be a Sanballat.

So, what do we do? We can’t deny our anger exists. Neither can we deny that there are those out there who will, at all costs, resist our efforts to redeem our culture for Christ. If we are called to be the wall builders of a new generation, we go into knowing that there are those out there who will try to destroy our work. So, what do we do? How do we harness anger? Perhaps a good option is found in Luke 23:34. Here, Jesus speaks about the mob that killed him. “Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”

Have you ever wondered how Jesus kept from retaliating? How did he keep his control? The answer lies in the second part of his statement: “for they do not know what they are doing.” Listen carefully. It’s as if Jesus saw in their faces not hatred but confusion. It’s as if he regarded them not as a militant mob of opposition, but, as he put it, “sheep without a shepherd.” And when you think about it, they were shepherdless. They didn’t have the faintest idea what they were doing. Neither did Sanballat. They were all mad at something they couldn’t see, so they took it on, of all people, God. But they didn’t know what they were doing.

And for the most part, neither do we. As much as we hate to admit it, we are still shepherdless sheep. We can’t answer our own questions about love and hurt. We can’t solve the riddle of aging. We don’t know how to heal our own bodies or how to get along without own mates. We can’t keep ourselves out of war. We can’t even keep each other fed. The point is this: uncontrolled anger, even if it seems like it’s in the public interest, won’t better our world. But, sympathetic understanding will. Once we see the world for what we are, we can help. Once we understand ourselves, we can begin to operate not from a posture of anger, but from compassion and concern. We look at the world not with bitter frowns but with extended hands. They are extended in prayer. They are extended in invitation. They are extended in peace. We realize that the lights of this world are out and a lot of people are stumbling in the darkness. So we light candles. We realize that the walls of society have collapsed and people are roaming around without boundaries. So we build walls. Instead of fighting back, we help out. We go where we are needed the most. We care for the poor. We love the less privileged, and we put away our guns.

One more story:
I remember a sunny December in Western New York. I took some members of our youth group to a place called Hope House in Buffalo. Men who have just got out of prison live at Hope house as they transition back into society. It hasn’t always been a halfway house, though. Hope House used to be a rectory where a priest lived. About 10 years ago, a priest lived in the rectory. He was known for his compassionate and loving outreach to the poor and needy of Buffalo. One night Father Bissonet heard a knock on the rectory door. He opened the door and saw two teens that he knew from the neighborhood. They were looking for food, so Father Joe Bissonet let them in. He could smell the alcohol that had saturated their systems. Before he knew it, the young men tied Father Joe up. Apparently, they didn’t intend to hurt him. They just wanted food and some money for drugs. Father Joe never resisted.

It must have happened quickly. By the end of the evening, two drunk and drugged up young men had stabbed Father Joe to death.

Today the rectory is called Hope House. It is a transitional home for men coming out of prison who are trying to pick up the fractured pieces of their lives. The room off the kitchen where Father Joe was murdered is now a chapel.

When I went there, the house was run by Sister Karen. Her hands were extended in welcome and grace. Lives were being transformed by the power of love. As she told the story of Hope House, you could sense her commitment. You could feel the love of Christ. Sister Karen was on the forefront of the non-violence movement in Buffalo. She led prayer vigils at murder scenes. She conducted anti-violence programs at schools The very room where Father Joe died is the place where nine ex-offenders joined hands with Sister Karen in prayer -- and in the midst of the prayer, lives were changed. Men were reborn and given a new chance in life.

In 2006, Sister Karen interrupted a burglary. A parolee, one of the hundreds of ex-convicts who lived at Hope House, was stealing her cell phone. The criminal heard sister Karen coming. He hid behind the door. As she entered the room, he grabbed her from behind and murdered her. The killer later confessed he put her body in the bed so it looked like she was sleeping. He then drove to a drug spot and traded the phone for a rock of crack cocaine.

Hundreds showed up to Sister Karen’s funeral. It is believed to be the biggest in Buffalo history. At the base of the altar was a dove-shaped sign. On it was a slogan Sister Karen came up with, part of a non-violence campaign she planned to launch. The sign read: "I Leave Peaceprints." She hoped it would inspire people to leave peace behind them wherever they go. Since the funeral, more than 4,000 of these signs have gone out, with more being made each day, and they've sprung like flowers on lawns across Buffalo. Rather than turn people against ex-offenders, Sister Karen's death has brought greater commitment to the work she did. Anonymous checks have come in to Bissonette House to ensure it keeps running. Volunteers have come forward and they have renewed resolve and focus, determination and forgiveness. And Sister Karen still leaves her peace prints.

Was Father Joe dumb to let those men in? I don’t know. Was Sister Karen being naive to live as the only women in a house of former inmates? I don’t want to make that judgment on your behalf. All I know is this: They looked their enemies in the face, and they said, “I love you.” They were wall builders kept on praying and working as the world worked against them. We can be, too. The choice is always before us.

Sermon for July 13, 2008

Rebuilding the Walls: The Work
Nehemiah 3:1-32
July 20, 2008

Everyone at the State University knew that Donner Hall had the best parties. All night dancing and beer guzzling attracted the largest weekend crowds by far–especially on the notorious second floor. By midnight every Friday and Saturday, the entire second floor was three inches deep in smashed beer cans and stale potato chips. And every weekend, by around 7:00 AM the next morning, all of the garbage was removed. The second floor residents assumed that the diligent and committed custodial staff came bright and early, before anyone woke up, to sweep up the mess. Early one Saturday morning, Chris, still hung over from Friday night’s party, stumbled out of his bed to head for the bathroom. Noticing a freshly vacuumed second floor, he mumbled to himself, “I guess the janitors came early again to get rid of the mess.” On reaching the bathroom, however, his nose warned him the mess was not completely eliminated. A partygoer had gotten sick on the bathroom floor, and someone was mopping it up. Chris thought, “I’m glad this janitor is doing the dirty work so we don’t have to.” At the sound of Chris’ shuffling, the supposed janitor looked up. Shocked, Chris realized that the person on the end of the mop was Marco, his next-door neighbor. “Marco, man, what are you doing?” Chris asked. Marco answered simply, “I’m cleaning up.” “Why? You weren’t even at the party last night.” Marco replied, “Because I’m a Christian.” No janitor had ever cared enough to clean up all those mornings. It had been Marco the whole time. Think about it--What kind of person scrubs another person‘s filth up off the floors? What kind of person would do that kind of secret, demeaning work? People who care deeply about others – people like parents. People like nurses. People like Christians. Here’s what I want us to consider today. Is it really the calling of the Christian to get sweaty and dirty as we work in the muck and waste of the world?

Last week I tried to make a case that we live in a regressive society. In times like ours’, there’s more anxiety in all people. Heightened anxiety stirs up chaos and irresponsibility in society. We look for the quick fix that will bring some temporary relief to the stressors of life. We become focused on taking care of ourselves more than the common good. For many, life has become a matter of survival. Because of that, I think the walls of society are caving in around us. Institutions that were once the foundation of our society, like family and church, are no longer functioning in ways that protects us. Some of our boundaries are crumbling down, leaving us wide open to danger.

A society without boundaries needs wall builders: called people who will stand up on principle and say, “We have had enough! The walls are crumbling around us, and we believe that God wants something else from us and for us”? The world needs people who will work for peace, and reconciliation, and love. Upholding these ideals has always been the church’s calling., and we have fulfilled them with varying degrees of success and failure in our history.

Today we are going to explore the work of wall building. The work of serving. How do we work in love? How can we move from mediocrity to greatness? Once we identify our core principles, how can we use them to make a difference? Let’s see what Nehemiah has to say. We were introduced to Nehemiah last week. He serves in the Persian court as the cupbearer to the King. He and his people are Jews who have been living in exile. After hearing reports on the condition of Jerusalem, Nehemiah asks the King for permission to return home. Around the year 450 BC, Nehemiah arrives in Jerusalem and begins the work of restoring Jerusalem’s walls.

It would be easy to pass over chapter 3 in Nehemiah’s wall-building journal. As a matter of fact, the chapter is boring. I can’t even read it without the fear of putting you to sleep because it’s so mundane. I printed it out in today’s bulletin. Just look at that list. It’s filled with names that are difficult to pronounce, information that seems to repeat itself, and chronology that seems meaningless. This may be the only sermon you ever hear on one the Bible’s many lists. Let’s not be too quick to disregard it, though. I think we can hear God’s voice in the Bible, even in those lists!

Nehemiah’s mission is all about doing work, and work can be mundane sometimes. Rebuilding the wall around Jerusalem was an enormous task, especially with the hostile conditions they worked under. Nehemiah rose to the occasion. He and his small band of workers must have labored night and day to put the plan into place. Hidden in this chapter are some great principles that apply to working as Christian wall builders.

PRINCIPLE #1: Get everyone in place.
Sometime today, take this passage home and make a mark every time you see the following phrases: “next to him” “next to them” “after him” or “after them”. My version records these phrases 28 times in 32 verses. Rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem didn’t just happen by a miracle from God. Everyone was strategically placed for the work ahead. Lots of careful, behind the scenes planning happened to ensure that every area of the wall had someone working there.

What a vital lesson when it comes to our own mission and ministry. If we want to be a church that is serious about loving God and loving one another, we can’t do it in a sloppy haphazard way. Outreach doesn’t just happen. It’s usually not a spontaneous effort. It means coordination and organization. Christian Education doesn’t just happen. It takes many people to carefully and prayerfully plan the next steps. If we wait for something to “just happen”, then it will never happen. When we see God at work–when we hear our calling to be the new wall builders in a crumbling society--then that’s our cue to organize for some hard work.

Thomas Berry is a professor who wrote a book called The Great Work. Berry states that our time and our generation have great work to do. He describes this work as carrying out the transformation of a civilization, overseeing “the transition from a period of human devastation of the Earth to a period when humans would be present to the planet in a mutually beneficial manner.” He calls this our “privileged moment.” To participate in it, is our moment of grace. He goes on to say that this is not a role we have chosen but rather one given to us by the “power beyond ourselves.” If we accept this great work and make fundamental changes in our lifestyles, our economic system and our political priorities, then the planet survives and flourishes. If we do not accept this great work, we risk at best an uncertain future for us, our children, our grandchildren, not to mention all the millions of God’s other beloved creatures.

I believe that the church is called to this great work. This is the church’s moment of grace. This is our privileged moment. In the face of widespread economic injustice, horrific poverty, the spread of virulent disease, serious human rights issues, our job is let rulers, and authorities, and society at large know that this great earth, this holy creation, has some problems. Thomas Berry puts it this way in his poem entitled “Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front,”

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go.
Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection

The first job of wall building is to get everyone in place to take hold of our privileged moment. That’s what Nehemiah did. His first act of restoration was not to go out and collect stones. The very first thing he did was to get the community together to do its great work. We see their names here in this list. The wall builders for our age will need to start the same way.

PRINCIPLE #2: Everyone is invited to be a wall builder.
Here’s another interesting fact in this list: Nehemiah was successful in getting men and women of all ages from all walks of life to participate in rebuilding the wall. There were priests, goldsmiths, perfumers, temple servants, and merchants. It was a cooperative effort. One of the verses says that Shallum, an official of Jerusalem, worked side by side with his daughters. It would be easy to miss that bit of information, but it’s significant. Whole families worked together to rebuild certain sections of the wall. Everyone was involved in its success.

Which raises the question: can one person build a wall? Can one person alone do all the work? Some try. I don’t think it’s a smart strategy. God-sized tasks take more than one person. The pastor can’t do it alone. The officers or deacons can’t do it alone. Sunday school teachers can’t do it alone. We can’t depend on the Trustees or Youth Group to do it all. Wall-building is a community effort. It takes focused, diligent labor from people of all ages, from all walks of life, with different talents and abilities, all for the common purpose of inviting others into the secure walls of community.

Charles Osgood tells the story of two ladies who lived in a convalescent center. Each had suffered an incapacitating stroke. Margaret’s stroke left her left side restricted, while Edna’s stroke damaged her right side. Both of these ladies were accomplished pianists but had given up hope of ever playing again. The director of the center sat them down at a piano and encouraged them to play solo pieces together. They did, and a beautiful friendship developed.
We need to work together! What one member cannot do alone, perhaps two or more could do together—in harmony.


PRINCIPLE #3:There are many ways to get people to work, but mutual encouragement is the best motivation

A ten-year-old boy was failing math. His parents tried everything, but to no avail. Finally, at the insistence of a family friend, they decided to enroll their son in a private Catholic school. After the first day, the boy’s parents were surprised when he walked in after school with a stern, focused and very determined expression on his face, and went right past them straight to his room, where he quietly closed the door. For nearly two hours he toiled away in his room - with math books strewn about his desk and the surrounding floor. He emerged long enough to eat, and after quickly cleaning his plate, went straight back to his room, closed the door, and worked feverishly at his studies until bedtime. This pattern continued ceaselessly until it was time for the first quarter report card. The boy walked in with his report card—unopened—laid it on the dinner table and went straight to his room. cautiously, his mother opened it, and to her amazement, she saw a bright red “A” under the subject of MATH. Overjoyed, she and her husband rushed into their son’s room, thrilled at his remarkable progress. “Was it the nuns that did it?”, the father asked. The boy only shook his head and said, “No.” “Was it the one-on-one tutoring? The peer-mentoring?” “No.” “The textbooks? The teachers? The curriculum?” “Nope,” said the son. “On that first day, when I walked in the front door and saw that guy they nailed to the ‘plus sign,’ I just knew they meant business!”

People will always work out of fear or guilt, but it’s not a good motivator. The best motivation is when we can truly encourage one another in love. It’s interesting that Nehemiah mentions 75 people by name and, in many instances, recognizes their accomplishments. He also mentions at least fifteen groups of people. Nehemiah was a hero-maker. He knew who worked, and what they accomplished. He praised others as a way to motivate them to do their best. Wouldn’t it be great if we all could put an end to guilt trips and manipulation, and instead we all encouraged each other to be Christ’s servants?

Lee Iacocca once asked legendary football coach Vince Lombardi what it took to make a winning team. The book Iacocca records Lombardi’s answer: There are a lot of coaches with good ball clubs who know the fundamentals and have plenty of discipline but still don’t win the game. Then you come to the third ingredient: if your going to play together as a team, you’ve got to care for one another. You’ve got to love each other. Each player has to be thinking about the next guy and saying to himself: If I don’t block that man, Paul is going to get his legs broken. I have to do my job well in order that he can do his. The difference between mediocrity and greatness is the feeling these guys have for each other.”

In other words, love, support, and mutual encouragement are the best motivation to get hard work done.

Wall building is hard work. It takes vision and patience. It requires sweat and frustration. But here’s one more principle. Nobody else is going to do the churches job. Nobody else is going to start picking up the pieces of society and building walls that invite people into the secure and safe arms of Christ. It’s the church’s job. May we cast aside our anxiety and insecurity, our fears and even our apathy, and start building the doing the work to which God calls us.