Whole New Way

Acts 11:1-18; John 13:31-35
April 28, 2013
© 2013

Tenya Lake

Tuolumne Meadows

 

Big Oak Flat Road leaves the Merced River just before the entrance into Yosemite Valley and heads up to Tenya Lake, Tuolumne Meadows and Tioga Pass. Coming past Carlon Meadow the road goes through a dense conifer forest with deep gray granite boulders covered with dark lichens. Up ahead, sunlight illuminates a turn in the road. Rounding that turn opens a whole new world above timberline. Sunlight flashing off of brilliant white granite peaks above vivid green meadows laced with silver streams and jeweled with crystal lakes bounded by sturdy hemlocks.

Last Sunday you started to round a turn that will take you into a whole new world. Mike Snell will be your first new pastor in 25 years. You cannot see the full panorama yet, but you can see the road turning into a new landscape.

For three Sundays since Easter I have not preached for you: vacation in Wisconsin, youth Sunday and the choir cantata. The road for us is also turning around an unseen bend. Counting today I have five sermons in which to get you ready to welcome Mike Snell as your pastor. I feel the centrifugal forces as we speed down diverging roads.

In John 13:31-35 Jesus began his farewell to his disciples as his road turned toward the cross. At the Passover Feast that we know as the Last Supper, Jesus washed his disciples’ feet and warned them that one of them would betray him. With a code that only Jesus and Judas seemed to understand at the time, Jesus dipped bread in the bitter herbs and gave it to Judas who went out into the night.

When [Judas] had gone out, Jesus said, “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him.³²[Since] God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once.³³Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, ‘Where I am going, you cannot come.’³⁴I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.³⁵By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

This new commandment defines the entire discourse that follows in chapters 13-16. The word for “new” does not mean something different than what he has been teaching all along, nor different from the Hebrew Scriptures from Moses through the Prophets. Rather, this commandment is “fresh” with new vitality that they will need and that we still need in all its freshness. To love one another. Utterly simple.

The disciples were going to need to love each other through the grief of Holy Saturday and the confusion between Easter and Pentecost, and for the challenges of bringing the Gospel to a world they barely knew. In fact, Jesus made that love the driving engine of their mission. “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

People in today’s fragmented world are also drawn to Jesus by the love between those of us who are his disciples. This word from Jesus is the seed of the vision of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) to be a movement for wholeness in a fragmented world.

 

 

Jesus’ new commandment was put to the test immediately with Cornelius. When word of Peter’s mission to Cornelius got back to Jerusalem, he was not congratulated for spreading the Gospel, he was criticized for eating with a Gentile.

This may be the most important single story in the book of Acts after Pentecost. Luke told the whole story twice: once as an objective historian and a second time in Peter’s own words. It is the turn in the road that took the Gospel out of the Church’s comfortable Jewish context into a whole new worldwide mission for all peoples.

With great patience Peter explained step by step how all this took place: the coordinated prayers and visions of Peter and Cornelius, the confirming testimony of the six who accompanied him on this mission, corroborating witness of the Holy Spirit on Cornelius’ household.

Though Paul became the Apostle to the Gentiles, for Peter to open the door was strategically important. In rather dramatic fashion God moved Peter into a new venue for ministry, just as God is moving Mike Snell to minister here with you. Though I don’t see it yet, God is also moving Candy and me to a new arena of ministry.

Luke gave Cornelius all this attention to set a new paradigm for the Church. From then up to now, the mission of the church outside is our natural circles of social contacts. God has sent and continues to send us to unlikely outsiders.

Acts 10:2 describes Cornelius as a devout man who feared God, gave generously to the poor and prayed constantly. The angel who appeared to him said his prayers had been answered and his generosity to the poor had ascended as a memorial to God. God had answered his prayers and accepted his offerings before he even heard Peter’s sermon about Jesus. I don’t want to push too hard on this except to say we can trust God to handle our ambiguities better than we can. I suppose that if someone had murdered Cornelius before Peter got there, he would still have inherited the resurrection to eternal life.

After Peter told Cornelius’ story step by step, his critics were silenced and perhaps with some reluctance praised God that even Gentiles had been given the repentance that leads to life. Gentiles were acceptable as long as there were only a few of them, but when Gentiles became the majority, the leaders in Jerusalem took Paul to task. Acts 15 recounts the struggle to recognize not only that the Church would be diverse, but God intended the Church to be diverse. Luke told this story to confront our reticence to welcome outsiders. In Acts 10 the story starts with Cornelius, not Peter. The star is the outsider, not the longtime leader.

So we come full circle, back to Jesus’ assertion that everyone will know we are his disciples if we have love for one another.

I call this the love magnet. People in today’s fragmented world are drawn to Jesus by the love between those of us who are his disciples. As a congregation you are an expression of the vision of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) to be a movement for wholeness in a fragmented world.

We may nostalgically grieve the loss of the 1950s. That was when the United States put “In God We Trust” on the dollar bill and “under God” in the Pledge of Allegiance. That was when nuclear families living in suburbia became the standard. That was when churches grew at an unprecedented rate. Those days are not going to return.

Just as Cornelius called the early Church out of its comfortable enclave, his story calls us to an exciting mission in the fragmented society of the 21^st century. Those who claim no religious affiliation are the fastest growing demographic in the United States. Churches who grow will be those who welcome these outsiders who have no church experience or expectations.

The fragmentation of society is leading to polarization and tribalization of uncompromising hostility between groups. Rodney King’s words during the 1992 Los Angeles riots continue to echo, “Can we all get along?” Subsequent events shout, “No way!” Yet people are desperate for an alternative. This is Jesus’ mandate to us as his disciples in the 21^st century. “Everyone will know you are my disciples if you have love for one another.” In Matthew 5:46 and Luke 6:32 Jesus asked, “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you?” People who are outsiders to the church will not only notice us but be attracted to Jesus when we love each other while we disagree about theology, ethics, worship styles, politics and economics, while we have different personal styles and personalities. They will be drawn to Jesus when we lovingly welcome outsiders who are different than we are educationally, socially, ethnically, culturally. It is up to the Church to be a living alternative to polarized hostility.

I know this congregation is poised to grow and wants to grow. I know Mike Snell wants to lead you to grow. That will inevitably mean growing pains, just as the Jerusalem church had with Cornelius. You will feel uncomfortable with some new things you’ll be doing. You’ll be uncomfortable with different opinions about Pastor Snell. You’ll be uncomfortable with some of the “outsiders” who become part of the congregation. When you feel those discomforts, listen carefully for the Holy Spirit to whisper the words of Jesus, “Everyone will know that you are my disciples if you have love for one another.”

 

Missing Out

John 20:19-25; 26-31
April 7, 2013
Preached at Milwaukee Mennonite Church
http://www.milwaukeemennonite.org/
© 2013

 

In 2008 when I was the pastor of Central Christian Church in Dallas, TX, Merrill and Janna joined the church after he had been diagnosed with terminal cancer as the climax of a reluctant journey to faith after Merrill had retired as a successful investment broker. God, church and religion seemed unnecessary until confronted with premature mortality. Merrill was particularly reticent about claiming faith in Jesus in a time of crisis after a life of ignoring God. It seemed Jesus claimed Merrill and Janna more than that they claimed faith. I was privileged to accompany them.

That summer we had been planning our vacation that would take us to Candy’s Dad in Minnesota. A day or two before we were to leave, Janna called to ask me to come to the hospital since the doctors didn’t think Merrill would last the day. As I sat with the gathered family, Merrill seemed to rally, and the family went to lunch. Janna told me to go home, and she would call if anything changed. I had barely eaten lunch when Janna called to say Merrill had died while we were all away. Of course, I went back to the hospital immediately to be with Janna and the family. After a little while, they left the hospital feeling rather useless. Janna asked if I would stay with Merrill until they took him to the hospital morgue. The hospital chaplain and I spent most of the afternoon in silence and quiet conversation alongside Merrill’s bed.

Janna insisted that we not change our vacation plans. She would be happy to have the Associate Pastor, Todd Boddy, conduct the service for Merrill. Thanks to modern technology, I was able to give my own brief remembrance at Merrill’s service with my cell phone from Candy’s Dad’s living room in Minneapolis. Several times Janna told me how important my presence was at both hospital and funeral, even though I felt I had been absent.

Thomas missed out on being with the other disciples when Jesus appeared to them Easter evening. Here we are a week after Easter, in the evening. Will Jesus to show up? I suggest that Jesus extends grace for shaky faith through those who think they have missed out spiritually.

I’ve heard plenty of preachers criticize Thomas for not being with the disciples Easter evening. However, none of that is even hinted at in the Gospel. John 20:26-31 simply says…

A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.”²⁷Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” ²⁸Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!”²⁹Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

³⁰Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book.³¹But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.

Thomas missed out before. When Jesus told the disciples Lazarus had died, in John 11:16 Thomas said, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” At the Last Supper when Jesus said he was going to prepare a place for the disciples, in John 14:5 Thomas said, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”

Jesus obviously knew about Thomas’ doubt, but he did not scold. Instead, he invited Thomas to touch his wounds and see that it was him. We all know that when young children say, “Can I see that?” they mean, “I want to touch it.” With eloquent storytelling, the Gospel does not say whether Thomas touched Jesus. Some commentators make a huge point that Thomas didn’t touch, but I’m not so sure. I suspect the ambiguity is intentional.

When John’s Gospel reports Jesus’ healings and works of power, it does not call them miracles but signs. They are not offering proofs to support our faith. Rather they point to who Jesus is. Similarly, I don’t think Jesus was proving something to Thomas but offered a sign that he could be trusted for eternal life. Thomas, with all his doubt, still is a sign to those who believe without seeing. By missing out, not only on being with the others on Easter evening, but also missing out on immediate faith, Thomas still invites us to trust Jesus.

In college I read Graham Greene’s The Power and the Glory. 45 years later my recollection of the story is vague. Its main character is the unnamed “Whisky Priest” who has many personal moral and spiritual failings but persists in trying to serve the spiritual needs of poor folk in Tabasco, Mexico despite the violent opposition of the Mexican revolutionary junta in the 1930s. The “Whisky Priest” is something like Thomas. He would disqualify himself as a Christian and priest, yet he brings grace to many others who missed out.

The Christian Century recently published an interview with author Pico Iyer whose recent book The Man Within My Head reflects on Graham Greene. Iyer said that Greene called himself a “Catholic agnostic” who had faith (emotional connection with God) but not belief (rational convictions about God). Iyer calls him “the poet laureate of the half-believer, or the person who longs for belief.” (March 20, 2013, pp. 10-11)

Greene had gone to Tabasco, Mexico in the time of the revolutionary junta. He wrote about that in Lawless Roads out of which The Power and the Glory came. He said he first started to become a Christian because the faith of the peasants assumed such proportions that he couldn’t help being profoundly moved.

A man whose wife is a church elder once came to see me. He told me he would really like to have faith but just can’t seem to get there. Could I recommend something for him to read? He quickly amended his question. I don’t need arguments for God, Jesus or the Bible. I’m convinced about all of that already. What I need is to know how to release and trust. Whether they say it or not, I believe a lot of people are like that, and Thomas is their apostle.

Jesus told Thomas that we who would believe without seeing would be even more blessed than he was. I suspect most of us would like to have been present to see the risen Jesus. How are we more blessed? We are those who have missed out spiritually through whom Jesus extends grace for our shaky faith.

While I was in the middle of preparing this sermon, a friend sent me a link to a 2009 Esquire article by Shane Claibourne addressed to his “non-believing, sort-of-believing and used-to-be-believing friends.” He wrote of walking with some out of town friends in downtown Philadelphia. They encountered a street preacher standing on a box, shouting through a bull-horn alongside a coffin with a fake dead body in it. The preacher was saying that everyone was going to die and if you didn’t believe in Jesus you’d go to hell. Some people snickered. A couple of teenagers tried to steal the fake body. Claibourne said he wanted to jump up on the box with the preacher and shout, “God is not a monster!” He wrote that he has become convinced that Christianity spreads best not through force but through fascination.

We all encounter Thomases every day: people who are hungry for faith but just can’t seem to get there. They don’t need to be convinced; they need to be surprised by Jesus as Thomas was. In reality, we are a lot of Thomases sitting here as well. We’re sure we missed out spiritually. Jesus isn’t scolding you. Jesus is waiting for the right time to surprise you.

 

Can You Imagine a Castle on a Cloud?

Isaiah 65:17-25; 1 Corinthians 15:19-26; John 20:11-18
March 31, 2013
© 2013

 

If you had the power to fix whatever you think is wrong with the world, what would your new world look like? Artists often express these dreams with great eloquence.

Candy and I saw the Les Miserables movie at Christmas with our son Erik, having seen the stage play years ago in Philadelphia. Young Cosette’s song Castle on a Cloud is her dream of escaping abusive servitude and drudgery.

There is a castle on a cloud,

I like to go there in my sleep,
Aren't any floors for me to sweep,
Not in my castle on a cloud.

There is a room that's full of toys,

There are a hundred boys and girls,
Nobody shouts or talks too loud,
Not in my castle on a cloud.

There is a lady all in white,

Holds me and sings a lullaby,
She's nice to see and she's soft to touch,
She says “Cosette, I love you very much.”

I know a place where no one's lost,

I know a place where no one cries,
Crying at all is not allowed,
Not in my castle on a cloud.

John Lennon’s Imagine has become the anthem of a generation and identifies religion, nationalism, personal property and the expectation of life after death as the sources of injustice and suffering that need to be abolished. All of this is packaged as a winsome, lyrical invitation to dream.

Imagine there's no heaven

It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people living for today

Imagine there's no countries

It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people living life in peace

You, you may say

I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one
I hope some day you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions

I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people sharing all the world

You, you may say

I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one
I hope some day you'll join us
And the world will live as one

The scriptures that we read this morning are visions of God’s renewed world.

The vision of hope in Isaiah 65:17-25 answered the disappointments that came when the people of Judah returned from captivity in Babylon and realized that did not inaugurate the ideal world. Through the prophet, God promised a new heaven and a new earth, which is echoed again in Revelation 21:1. In a time when life was short and any hint of personal, eternal life was vague at best, the defeat of death was longevity measured by centuries and the age of trees. No longer would people work to enrich others but would enjoy the fruits of their own labors. The end of suffering and weeping is also echoed in Revelation 7:17. God will not only protect but rejoice and delight in all who live on God’s holy mountain.

The Apostle Paul’s great treatise on Christ’s resurrection in 1 Corinthians 15 jumps the vision of God’s renewed world a quantum leap ahead from where Isaiah left us. Longevity is no longer measured by centuries or the lifespan of trees but eternal resurrection. Justice and peace come not by restraining oppressors but by the destruction of every ruler, authority and power when Christ hands all the kingdoms of this world over to God the Father.

For centuries people have concocted all sorts of silly speculations about Mary Magdalene, though what the New Testament tells us about her seems more than fascinating enough to me. She is the main character in the account of Jesus’ resurrection in John 20. She, probably with a few other women, was the first to arrive at the empty tomb at dawn. She ran to tell Peter and probably John that Jesus had been taken out of the tomb. Peter and John ran to the tomb but returned to the others without seeing Jesus. Verses 11-18 report that …

… Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; ¹²and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. ¹³They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.”¹⁴When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. ¹⁵Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” ¹⁶Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means my Teacher).¹⁷Jesus said to her, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”¹⁸Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”; and she told them that he had said these things to her.

Mary’s experience with the risen Jesus was intensely personal. Whether the other women were there at that moment, John focused on the personal encounter between Mary and Jesus. Mary recognized Jesus when he spoke her name, and she called him “my teacher.” Emotionally overwhelmed, she clung to him, not wanting to let him out of her grasp ever again. He said, “Don’t hold onto me.” Something bigger was coming. He said, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, my God and your God,” bringing together the personal and the cosmic.

Mary ran to proclaim, to preach to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord!” Thus, as the first eye witness to proclaim having seen the risen Jesus, she is called the first apostle and the apostle to the apostles. Legend has it that she once had an audience with the Emperor Tiberius and told how she met the risen Jesus. The Emperor replied that no one could come back to life after a Roman crucifixion any more that the egg on the table could turn red. The story is that the egg on the Emperor’s table instantly turned red, and so many Eastern orthodox icons of Mary Magdalene show her holding a red egg. You can see some at the QR code or web site on the back of today’s bulletin.

The risen Jesus invites us to join him in God’s future that is at once personal and cosmic, immediate and eternal.

Back on August 19, my first Sunday to preach to you, I told of hearing Fr. Thomas Hopko speak on the spiritual life when he was Dean of St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Seminary in New York. He said that when he was a boy, his mother told him, “If you want to grow as a Christian, read your Bible, say your prayers, and go to church.” Then he said to us, “Now I am the dean of a seminary training people for a lifetime of ministry, and I tell them to read their Bibles, say their prayers and go to church.” As simplistic as it may seem, Jesus meets us in the pages of Scripture, in the quiet conversation of prayer and in the community of God’s people of faith.

Jesus also calls us out of ourselves into the world of struggling people he is loving and transforming, into his cosmic redemption of all humanity and all creation. I believe several of us saw that last Monday evening as we worshipped and ate with the people of Refuge Fellowship. As I listened to one angry young man complain that in this cold snap all the shelters were full, I remembered Jesus saying that the Son of Man had nowhere to lay his head. Every Monday morning, those who deliver Mobile Meals look into the faces of people, many of whom are struggling with decline as their lives draw to a conclusion. By reaching out to the hurting, wounded people around us we do much more than extend the love of Jesus to them, we join Jesus in his redemptive mission for all people in all times and all places. Beyond that, we see Christ looking back at us and smiling at us through tears.

 

God Meets Us in the Spaces Between … Humiliation and Exaltation

Philippians 2:5-11; Luke 19:29-44
March 24, 2013 – Palm Sunday
© 2013

Palm Sunday is a bitter-sweet day in the liturgical calendar. We want to welcome Jesus with cheers and not think too much about what’s coming on Friday. Those who don’t have a Maundy Thursday or Good Friday experience jump from “Hosanna!” to “He is risen!” without the Last Supper, praying in the Garden, trial and crucifixion. The seemingly anonymous overseers of the liturgical calendar have tried to remedy this by inserting Passion Sunday to focus on the events around Jesus’ crucifixion either the fifth or sixth Sundays in Lent. Few churches want to give up Palm Sunday festivities on the sixth Sunday, and observing crucifixion on the fifth Sunday, a week before Palm Sunday, is disturbingly out of rhythm.  

I have heard plenty of Palm Sunday sermons about fickle people who shouted “Hosanna!” on Palm Sunday and “Crucify!” on Good Friday. Unique among the Gospels, Luke is clear that these were two different groups. Vocabulary that is apparent throughout Luke becomes blatant from Palm Sunday through Good Friday. Luke calls those who welcomed Jesus on Palm Sunday “the people” or “the disciples,” meaning all of his followers not just the Twelve. And Luke calls the mob that cried for his crucifixion “the crowd.” Our English translations don’t always make this as clear as it is in Greek.

While John 12:12 emphasized that pilgrims who had come to Jerusalem for Passover went out to greet Jesus on Palm Sunday, Luke emphasized those who had followed Jesus from Galilee and witnessed his deeds of power shouted praises as they approached Jerusalem. This is not a conflict but the bitter-sweet way Luke 19:29-44 sets the stage for Jesus’ response as he came around the Mount of Olives for a panoramic view of Jerusalem.

Jesus’ Triumphal Entry concludes the transition we have been watching through Lent from Jesus’ ministry in Galilee to his destiny with the cross in Jerusalem. In this space, Jesus was teaching on the go and had become increasingly pointed, foreshadowing the climatic confrontation with the Temple leadership in Jerusalem.

When he had come near Bethphage and Bethany, at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of the disciples,³⁰saying, “Go into the village ahead of you, and as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here.³¹If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it.’”³²So those who were sent departed and found it as he had told them. ³³As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, “Why are you untying the colt?”³⁴They said, “The Lord needs it.”³⁵Then they brought it to Jesus; and after throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it.³⁶As he rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks on the road.³⁷As he was now approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, ³⁸saying, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” ³⁹Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, order your disciples to stop.”⁴⁰He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.”

⁴¹As he came near and saw the city, he wept over it,⁴²saying, “If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes.⁴³Indeed, the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up ramparts around you and surround you, and hem you in on every side.⁴⁴They will crush you to the ground, you and your children within you, and they will not leave within you one stone upon another; because you did not recognize the time of your visitation from God.”

For Luke, the bitter-sweet of Palm Sunday was not fickle people but that Jesus’ disciples enthusiastically shouting his praises, oblivious to his weeping over Jerusalem. Contemplating this incongruity opens a vista into our spaces between humiliation and exaltation, where we can listen for the voice of God to identify our growth zones.

Matthew 21:5 quotes Zechariah 9:9 to specify that Jesus purposely chose to ride a donkey as a sign of humiliation. Jesus presented himself, not as a conquering hero on a white horse but as a servant riding a beast of burden.

In the midst of the exhilarating exaltation of the cheers of his disciples, Jesus was insulted by the Pharisees. Even deeper, his humiliation was knowing that he would not be recognized by the Temple leaders in Jerusalem. He wept for the fate of Jerusalem. If only they recognized him!

In that space between humiliation and exaltation, Jesus yearned for the people of Jerusalem, and I believe for us to identify where we are growing in the things that make for peace: faith and harmony with God.

Philippians 2:5-11 is clearly a hymn of the New Testament Church. Scholars speculate whether Paul inserted a known hymn to make his point or whether he composed it himself. I’m inclined to think Paul used something the Philippian church already sang in worship, but I don’t think it matters. But recognizing how Paul introduced this exquisitely theological praise is critical. “Let this same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.” Paul is purposely practical!

Jesus leads the way for us through humiliation to exaltation. When you think you deserve some respect or appreciation, remember you are following the one who emptied himself of divine prerogatives to ride a donkey to the cross, weeping, not for himself but for people who couldn’t recognize the things that made for peace.

In your spaces between humiliation and exaltation, how can you listen for the voice of God to identify your growth zones? We may squirm, but these are not deficiencies as much as the zones where the Holy Spirit is encouraging us to grow. Do you feel your hackles coming up when someone challenges you? Maybe it’s when you’re sure you’re right and someone else tells you that they’re sure you’re wrong. Maybe it when you’ve made a decision that affects other people and someone questions your right or authority to make that decision. Behind the noise of your own heart, can you hear the whisper of Jesus saying, “Here is where you are growing now”?

Much has been made of Pope Francis being the first Latin American Pope, the first Jesuit Pope and the first Pope to choose the name Francis. Francis of Assisi never aspired to be a parish priest or bishop, much less a Pope. In fact, he clashed with Popes. Yet in 1208 Pope Innocent III had a dream of the Church sliding off its foundations, stopped by the little monk, Francis. You can see Giotto’s fresco of that dream with the QR code or web address on the back of the bulletin. Francis refused to be called the leader of the Friars Minor, “Little Brothers.” We know them as the Franciscans. Francis would have been horrified to have something named after him. He even refused to be the leader of the band of 12 brothers with whom he lived and served. Though others recorded some of Francis’ sermons, teachings and prayers (some of which are more legendary than historical), he never wrote with the idea of leaving a legacy. Nevertheless, Francis is one of the most influential Christian since the apostolic age. While claimed by Roman Catholics, Protestants and even non-Christians love Francis. Legend has it that in 1219, during the 5^th Crusade, Francis crossed enemy lines for an audience with the Sultan of Egypt who is reported to have said, “If more Christian were like Francis, I would consider becoming one.”

For centuries the Jesuits and Franciscans have been rivals, making Pope Francis’ choice of that name extraordinary. Pope Francis’ recent symbolic gestures and statements suggest he aspires to emulate Francis of Assisi. How that unfolds remains to be seen. But Francis of Assisi shows us the journey through humiliation to exaltation.

From Luke’s bitter-sweet account of Palm Sunday, as you join the cheers of the multitude of Jesus’ disciples, can you also watch Jesus weeping and hear him whisper, “These things make for peace. You are growing here.”

 

God Meets Us in the Spaces Between … Past and Future

Isaiah 43:16-21; Philippians 3:4b-14; John 12:1-8
March 17, 2013
© 2013

 

 

 

My friend Caela is a pastor in Indiana. She and her husband David have two preschool boys. While watching his Mom read the news on the internet this week, three year old Maitland said, “Oh, I see the Pope! Pope Francis. He is a pastor, just like my mama.” Of course, he is too young to grasp the many layers of irony that make us laugh at his observation. Yet, making the connection between a married, woman Protestant pastor and the Pope surrounded by centuries of tradition and trappings is something of a metaphor for living between the past and the future.

Thanks to Randy for the update from the Search and Call Committee today. Just as the election of a new Pope is a sign that we are living between the past and the future, anticipating a new pastor is an experience of living between the past and the future as a congregation.

We all knew from the beginning that as an interim pastor I would be with you for a brief but important time. Realizing that our time with you will be soon drawing to a conclusion, means that Candy and I are also aware of living in a particular space between our past and our future. We’ve begun to make lists of what we need to do here and in Dallas. After Easter we’ll be with our son David’s family and with Candy’s Dad in Milwaukee to dovetail future plans. I’ve had some inquiries for our next interim ministry but don’t know where God will take us.

Today’s Scripture readings are about emerging from the past so we can embrace the future. They can help us listen for God in the spaces between past and future. They prepare us for God to reverse our expectations.

Providing pastoral leadership and care while the Search and Call Committee looks for another pastor is only part of the ministry of an interim pastor. Equally important is creating a space between pastors that insulates the new pastor from comparisons with the previous pastor. In my time with you, I hope I have helped you listen for God in between pastors.

Isaiah 40-55 was pointedly applicable to Judah’s Babylonian Exile and prepared them to return to their homeland. 43:16-17 recalls God opening the Sea (of Reeds) so they could escape Egyptian slavery on dry ground. But when they were captives in Babylon, a desert rather than a sea was the barrier they would have to cross to get to freedom. Through the prophet, God promised a reversal of the escape from Egypt. Instead of dry land through the sea, God would make a river in the desert; instead of a pursuing army, God would use a pagan King to launch and finance their return to the Promised Land.

Isaiah 43:18-19 says, “Do not remember the former things or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing.” Paul was thoroughly familiar with the Hebrew Scriptures, so I wonder if he wasn’t thinking of that when he wrote in Philippians 3:13 that he was “forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead.” For Paul, the reversal was to relinquish the accumulation of his greatest religious credentials and accomplishments for a future of knowing Christ and attaining the resurrection of the dead. The space between Paul’s past and Paul’s future was to press on in the power of Christ’s resurrection and the fellowship of Christ’s suffering.

The prophet asked Judah, “Do you not perceive the new thing God is doing through you?” Seen from a New Testament perspective, Judah’s return from Babylon was far greater than the Exodus from Egypt, as it set in motion the coming of the Messiah. For Paul, relinquishing his own righteousness was far eclipsed by receiving the righteousness of Christ. On a congregational scale, I am convinced God is saying to this congregation, “In your space between pastors, the future I have awaiting you will far exceed the best of your past. I’m about to do a new thing. Can you not perceive it?”

Lent, also, is a space between the past and the future. We look back at our spiritual struggles and wandering, and we look ahead to redemption and resurrection. Lent is an annual reminder that we are neither chained to our past nor fully living our future. In Luke’s Gospel, we’ve been following Jesus through the spaces between his Galilean ministry and his redemptive mission at the cross. Today we jump to John 12:1-8 for a poignant, personal glimpse into one of those spaces. All four Gospels record a woman anointing Jesus. Scholars love to debate the identity of the women and the exact occasions of the anointings. That could be another fun Bible study, but too detailed for a sermon. I will tell you this much. Matthew 26 and Mark 14 are almost certainly reporting the same incident. I believe Luke 7 was a different woman much earlier in Jesus’ ministry. While I can’t prove it, I suspect John 12 is the same woman and incident as Matthew and Mark, that John has told in his own way of making the dramatic transition to the events of Holy Week.

Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. ²There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. ³Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. ⁴But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, ⁵“Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” ⁶(He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) ⁷Jesus said, “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. ⁸You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”

The dinner for Jesus at Bethany seemed to be out of gratitude for the raising of Lazarus. Though unlikely that Mary bought the perfume thinking of Jesus’ burial, he pointedly turned it into a stark precursor of his death.

When Jesus quoted Deuteronomy 15:11 about always having the poor, both the context of that verse and his own life, preclude using it to rationalize withholding generosity from the poor. By saying “you do not always have me,” he focused this occasion on his coming death.

For Mary to anoint and let her hair down in public to wipe the feet of a man who was not her husband was scandalous intimacy. I have posted some art work that gives a sense of this at the QR code or web address on the back of the bulletin. In these passages, I believe I hear the voice of God in the spaces between the past and the future inviting us to a similarly close relationship with Jesus.

In Isaiah 43:21, God called Judah “the people I formed for myself so that they might declare my praise.” Each time we see Mary of Bethany, she is an icon of deep closeness with Jesus: the dinner in Luke 10:38-42, the death of her brother Lazarus in John 11:28-33 and the anointing we read today.

When Paul wrote in Philippians 3:8, 10 that he wanted to know Christ, he wasn’t thinking of a seminary degree. He wanted to be so absorbed in Jesus that he could live every day by the power of Jesus’s resurrection.

Paul also knew that for Jesus’ resurrection to be his daily reality, not just a past event or future hope, he would also share the fellowship of his suffering. To be with Jesus in the spaces between the past and the future is to be with him wherever people suffer as you journey toward the future with hope.

As we read that Paul pressed “on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus,” we need to be careful to realize he had not just replaced one form of human spiritual exertion with another. Rather, like Paul we can be confident that Jesus has made us his own, so as we live in the spaces between the past and the future, we are increasingly congruent with Jesus.

God Meets Us in the Spaces Between … Failure and Forgiveness

Joshua 5:9-12; 2 Corinthians 5:16-21; Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

March 10, 2013
© 2013

 

Through Lent, we’ve been walking with Jesus toward Jerusalem and his destiny with the cross.

Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. ²And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”³So he told them this parable:

¹¹“There was a man who had two sons.¹²The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’ So he divided his property between them.¹³A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living.¹⁴When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need.¹⁵So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. ¹⁶He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything.¹⁷But when he came to himself he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger!¹⁸I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you;¹⁹I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.”’²⁰So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. ²¹Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’²²But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.²³And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate;²⁴for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate.²⁵“Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. ²⁶He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on.²⁷He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.’ ²⁸Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. ²⁹But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends.³⁰But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’³¹Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.³²But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’”

I.                I’m sure you recognized Jesus’ parable we usually call The Prodigal Son from Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32. As familiar as it is, as we listen to it we can hear God’s voice in the spaces between failure and forgiveness. Whether our own or someone else’s, God whispers, “All this is from me.”

A.           Without even considering its place in Jesus’ teaching, it is the epitome of the storyteller’s art. Compact with nothing superfluous, yet vivid in detail. Colorful, complex characters. Relational tension and drama. It was told. Jesus did not publish a collection of stories he wrote. These are meant to be spoken and heard. I tell these Gospel stories to give you a taste of that experience.

B.            This story has inspired great art. One of the best is Rembrandt’s Return of the Prodigal Son that hangs in the Hermitage in St. Petersburg, Russia. You can see it and others with the QR code or website on the back of your bulletin. One is a self-portrait in which Rembrandt portrays himself as the Prodigal living the wild life.

C.            I react with personal intensity to this story. As a kid watching something as innocent as Leave it to Beaver on TV, I would cringe when I saw a character headed for trouble and say, “Don’t do that!” Even telling the story this morning, something deep inside of me screams to the younger son, “Stop! You’ll be sorry.” And to the older son, “Go in with a smile and hug your brother, or you’ll regret it.” I ache for the unrecoverable losses in the story.

II.            Part of the powerful genius of the story is where Jesus ended, leaving us hanging with huge questions.

A.           First, did the elder son go into the party? If so how did he greet his brother? The younger brother was hoping to sneak home and blend in with the hired hands. How did he respond to becoming the center of attention? What tangle of emotions did the father experience as his joy at having the younger son home was tempered by the pain of what he had lost and the tension with the elder son?

B.            When the party was over, did the younger son work like a hired hand since he no longer had a stake in the estate? Did he live in the family house or the servant’s quarters? What happened between the brothers in their daily interaction? Did the younger brother save up money to buy a house in town and get another job? What happened to the father’s relationship with each of the sons?

C.            What happened after the father died? Who stood where at the funeral? If he was still working for the estate, was the younger brother fired? Were the brothers reconciled or did they go their separate ways, dissolving their relationship? Did they hold onto guilt and resentment?

III.       Jesus was prompting us to ask questions about ourselves. Do we have the same sense of entitlement as the younger brother? While you wouldn’t say it this way, do you think the world owes you something? Or do we have the same sense of entitlement as the older brother? “I work hard so I deserve my advantages?” Jesus was getting at something far deeper than the truism that privileges come with responsibilities.

A.           We read in Joshua 5 today about God rolling the disgrace of Egypt off of Israel before they celebrate Passover and enter the Promised Land. As a free people in their own land, they must never forget that God freed them from slavery and fed them in the wilderness.

B.            2 Corinthians 5:18 tells us that both our redemption from sin by Christ as well as our ministry of reconciliation that calls others to Christ, is all from God. Do not forget!

C.            Prosperity is spiritually dangerous. It distorts the way we view ourselves. Ego creep easily pushes God to the edge.

1.              In Deuteronomy 8:17 as Israel was preparing to enter the Promised Land, Moses warned them, “Do not say to yourself, “My power and the might of my own hand have gotten me this wealth.”

2.              In 1 Corinthians 4:7 Paul points directly at us. “What do you have that you did not receive? And if you received it, why do you boast as if it were not a gift?”

IV.      In this Lenten season of self-examination, Jesus’ story of the Prodigal Son prompts us to listen for God’s voice in the spaces between failure and forgiveness. Whether our own or someone else’s, God whispers, “All this is from me.”

The church I served in New Jersey had an extensive low-income housing ministry. In connection with that, Habitat for Humanity founder, Millard Fuller, came to speak. In some sense, he experienced the life of both the younger and older brothers. Far from perfect, yet used by God.

He paid his way through Auburn University with entrepreneurial projects such as a service so parents could send birthday cakes to their student children. With a law degree from the University of Alabama, he became a successful lawyer and businessman – a millionaire by age 29. But his marriage and family were in shambles.

In 1968 the Fullers liquidated their wealth, gave it all away to charity and moved into Koinonia Farm, a Christian community in Georgia. From there they went to Zaire (now DR Congo) as missionaries with the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). On returning to the U.S. they began a housing ministry with Koinonia Farm that eventually led to Habitat for Humanity.

Habitat for Humanity was already growing rapidly around the world when former President Jimmy Carter raised its profile considerably as the flagship global force for decent, affordable housing.

If you are familiar with Habitat for Humanity, you know about Millard Fuller’s volatile, stormy relationship there. Some of that stemmed from his entrepreneurial, take-charge personality and some from relational and marital issues. I am not intending to hold Millard Fuller up as either a hero and role model or as a fallen, disgraced leader.

Rather, looking through the lens of Jesus’ Prodigal Son story, we see that both great accomplishments and great mercy are God’s gifts. You and I are also younger brothers who have received extravagant grace from God. You and I are also older brothers who are in danger of forgetting that our greatest achievements are also extravagant gifts from God. So in the spaces between failure and forgiveness, listen for the voice of God.