Pres House Blog

"Back in Grace" - Pastor Erica (sermon)

2008-03-30T10:33:00-05:00

This is the final sermon in the series, "Growing with Peter." It is based on John 21.

The journey home had been uneventful. A few miles out from the village, James and John caught up with Peter and Andrew. Together they traveled the remaining distance, the air growing thicker with the smell of the Sea of Galilee getting closer. They were engrossed in conversation, replaying all the events in Jerusalem that had astonished them all. The Lord had appeared briefly in the room where they had celebrated the last supper before his execution and blessed them with peace and the Holy Spirit. Then he was gone again.

Now some of the disciples were returning to Galilee, going back to their homes. At the edge of town, Peter noticed the place where he had first met the teacher, back when his brother Andrew had dragged him out to the desert. It seemed a lifetime ago when he was identified Simon, son of Jonah, and then renamed Peter by the Lord. As he entered into the village, he felt disoriented—everything looked the same, yet his whole world had been radically changed. The inside of him did not match the surroundings that he called home.

Peter’s wife and mother-in-law were waiting to welcome the men and had a meal prepared for them to eat. As he sat down, he recalled the day when the teacher had healed crowds of sick people right in his house. It was like a dream then, and even now he found himself almost wondering if it had really happened. The days passed, and Peter felt like a fish out of water, struggling to figure out how to be after all he had experienced with the teacher.

After a couple of weeks, Peter decided to make preparations to head out and try to live out the teachings of the Lord. He felt unsure of himself, especially after he had denied the teacher three times right before his execution. How could he be the rock upon which the church was to be built after his miserable failure? But he knew that he could not deny that the Lord was alive now and so Peter felt he had to do something despite his lapse in faithfulness.

He figured he would gather up the provisions he would need to survive on the road. He calculated how much money would be necessary to be away for a year, and then set out the only way he knew how to earn it. One evening, after a meal with some of the other disciples, he got up and said, “I am going fishing.”

The rest of them looked at Peter, and then got up to follow, saying, “We will go with you.” As they approached the lake, some of Peter’s old fishing buddies caught sight of him and yelled out hearty greetings, “Simon, Simon!” It was a bit jarring since he had been going by Peter for awhile now, and it reminded him of his former life as a fisherman. He greeted them and asked about their families and luck on the lake. Then all of the men began to prep the boats for the night’s work.

After pulling out his old fishing equipment, and checking to see that his nets were in good shape to use, Peter and the other disciples got into the boat and pushed off into the water. It felt good to be back in familiar work, and Peter soon stripped down to his undergarments so he could better maneuver the boat and nets. As they trolled his various favorite spots, Peter thought ahead to getting enough fish so he could begin his work for the Lord.

Hours passed and still the men had not caught anything. Soon Peter’s excitement turned to gloom when he realized that the night’s efforts were going to prove futile. How was he going to do anything if he couldn’t even acquire a single fish for a meal?

Suddenly he heard a voice calling to them. They all turned and looked towards shore and saw a figure standing on the beach. “Children, you have no fish, have you?” It was embarrassing to realize that their failed expedition had been observed by a stranger. Some of the other disciples dejectedly answered, “No.” Peter hoped that would be the end of the exchange, but the stranger called out again. “Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.”

It was a ridiculous request now that it was after daybreak, but Peter felt a familiar anxiety growing. He had been through this before. He and the other disciples threw the nets overboard and in time they felt the tug and pull of many fish swarming. They tried to reel the catch in, but the weight was staggering. One of the disciples immediately exclaimed, “It is the Lord!”

That was all Peter needed to hear, as he threw his clothes on. Eager to make amends and pay his respects to the teacher, he jumped into the lake though the boat was only a hundred yards from shore. He simply could not wait any longer and so he swam fiercely to get to him. Just as he reached the point where he could stand up, the other disciples pulled up next to him in the boat. They all waded up the shoreline towards the teacher, who was now tending a fire on the beach.

When they arrived, they could see lots of fish in the coals and loaves of bread sitting next to the fire. Before any of them sat down, the teacher said, “Bring some of the fish that you have just caught.” Sopping wet, Peter turned and quickly ran back into the lake. He was determined to obey the Lord in light of his previous letdowns. He heaved the net from the boat, and with all the strength he could muster, hauled it to the other disciples and teacher by the fire.

Standing there, drenched from both the lake water and physical exertion of dragging the fish in, Peter looked to the teacher for direction. The teacher gazed at him waiting. Not knowing what else to do, Peter got down on his knees and began to empty the net. It was only then that he noticed how enormous each fish was, every single one much bigger than any fish he had ever caught in his whole life. Any one of them would have been the talk of the village, and Peter pulled 153 out of his un-torn net.

Surrounded by the bountiful catch, he realized the immensity of what the teacher had provided. Here was more than enough to provide for his needs. Peter then remembered the words of the teacher, “Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, or what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?... your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” Peter put the net down, aware of the tangible lesson he had just been shown. He looked at the teacher who motioned him over. “Come and have breakfast.”

Peter joined the other disciples around the fire as the Lord took the bread and fish and gave each of them generous portions. They all ate hungrily, grateful for the abundance of food. After they had finished eating, it grew quiet and the teacher looked around at the disciples, letting his eyes rest upon each one. He seemed to have a private exchange with each of them, communicating silently a world of understanding.

When he turned to fix his eyes on Peter, Peter looked down at the ground. The memory of his failure was fresh in his mind, and he could still vividly recall how he had publicly denied knowing the teacher three times. It was made all the worse because he had been the most vocal about his devotion to the Lord, claiming that he would never leave him and would even die for him. Instead, Peter had betrayed the teacher and fled the scene, leaving him to die alone. Though the Lord had triumphed over it all, Peter was haunted by what he had done.

Finally, Peter forced himself to raise his head to face the teacher’s intent countenance. Instead of remaining silent like he had with the other disciples, the Lord spoke aloud to him. “Simon, son of Jonah, do you love me more than these?” Peter responded immediately to his question, anxious to tell the teacher that despite his blunders he was now more devoted than ever. “Yes Lord, you know that I love you!” He said to him, “Feed my lambs.”

Peter pondered his words as the fire crackled. He thought of all the crowds of people who had flocked around the teacher, wherever he went. Some sought healing, others food, still others were skeptics whose curiosity brought them to him. How did the teacher want him to respond to all these folks? He was surprised when the Lord’s voice interrupted his thinking.

“Simon, son of Jonah, do you love me?” Peter was confused by the second questioning. He did not miss that the teacher was calling him by his family name instead of the one he had given him, but he wondered why he was being asked once more. This time he resolved to look directly at the teacher so he could fervently express his faithfulness. “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” The teacher said to him, “Tend my sheep.”

Again Peter contemplated what the teacher was commanding him to do. He recalled the encounter that had solidified his decision to leave everything behind to follow the Lord. It was the first time he had experienced a miraculous catch of fish, and when the teacher had told him that Peter would now be catching people. He had wondered back then what the Lord had meant by that, but he was beginning to understand. As he was about to inquire more about it, Peter was stunned to be asked a third time.

“Simon, son of Jonah, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt and was stung by the teacher’s questioning. Three times he was being asked, and the weight of his three denials sunk in. The Lord’s death had been costly on many levels. His voice contrite, Peter answered him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.”

One last time, the teacher said to him, “Feed my sheep.” Then he came to Peter and put his hand on his shoulder, saying, “Very truly I tell you, when you were younger you used to fasten your own belt and go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.”

The words lay heavily upon Peter, as he gradually took in their significance. His whole life he had been strong in mind and body, doing as he wished. Even when he had left everything to follow the teacher, Peter had retained his autonomy and did not shy away from challenging him. He remembered the night when he had taken the teacher aside to rebuke him for talking about his imminent death. He had been shocked when the teacher had abruptly stopped him, saying, “Get behind me Satan!”

It was at that point when Peter began to really struggle with the Lord’s teaching, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” Peter sat with the teacher’s prediction, taking in the reality that the teacher’s fate was his fate. His love for the Lord would bind him through life and death. It was a serious calling, one that would involve all his passion and whole self.

The teacher took his hand off Peter’s shoulder and then extended it to help him to his feet. “Follow me,” he said and together they began walking away from the lake, away from Peter’s former life. He was filled with both comfort and nervousness, knowing that the Lord would always be with him but not knowing what lay ahead. Peter turned around to take one more glance and saw that one of the other disciples was following them.

“Lord, what about him?” Peter could not help but wonder about the others. Would they have to face death as the teacher had implied Peter would? Was there another way to be faithful to the Lord? The teacher took his arm and gently pulled him forward so that they continued their journey. “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? Follow me!” Peter looked at his Lord, and then fell into step beside him. It was enough, simply to know that the Lord would be going with him. Peter set off, ready to become a catcher of people.

"Go Tell Peter!" - Pastor Erica (sermon)

2008-03-23T14:05:00-05:00

This Easter sermon continues the series, "Growing With Peter." It is based on Luke 24:1-12.

They were headed south towards Jerusalem. With each passing town, Peter grew increasingly anxious, unsure of what lay ahead. After making their way up the Mount of Olives, they reached the crossroads of the town Bethany and Bethpage. The teacher sent two of the disciples to fetch a young colt and later in the day he mounted it and rode it into Jerusalem. Peter and the others followed, amazed at the crowds which gathered to greet him. They lay their cloaks upon the road, waved palm branches, and raised their voices in praise of the teacher. It was an overwhelming scene and Peter’s heart swelled with hope.

The commotion as they entered into Jerusalem also drew the attention of the religious leaders as they came to see why all the people were so excited. It was clear they were displeased and they shouted above the crowds’ joyful singing, telling the teacher to make the people stop. It was useless, however, and soon enough they left because more and more people gathered to praise him. Peter let out a triumphant cry as well, sensing that perhaps the teacher was mistaken in his past predictions. It looked as if the whole of Jerusalem was behind him and Peter could imagine the teacher victoriously ruling over the people.

The next week was a blur of activity with many hours spent at the temple teaching the crowds. The religious authorities were always lurking around, trying to catch the teacher in some kind of heresy. With each passing day though, Peter grew more confident that there was nothing they could do. The teacher was too smart for them and easily deflected their attempts to trap him plus there were constantly masses of people surrounding him. Things were looking up.

Soon the Festival of Unleavened Bread was upon them. Everywhere in Jerusalem there were signs of preparation as people hurried about getting a Passover lamb ready for sacrifice. The disciples asked the teacher, “Where do you want us to make the preparations for you to eat the Passover?” He gave them very specific directions about where to go and what to do, and when they carried out his instructions exactly as he had said, Peter was not surprised at the teacher’s foresight. After all, he had demonstrated again and again that his knowledge was beyond human understanding and his powers were from the divine realm.

Peter was looking forward to celebrating the Passover with the teacher and other disciples. In the past, he had enjoyed this annual holiday with his brother Andrew and their family. But it was much more about the feasting and time with family than anything else. Now though, he had a renewed sense of his ancestral faith and wondered in anticipation how this Passover would be different being with the teacher.

After they had all settled down around the room and were reclining, they began the feasting. Laughter filled the air as the disciples talked amongst each other, taking pleasure in having an evening of privacy away from the crowds. The teacher quietly observed them, and soon the talking faded as the disciples became aware of his stillness. Then he looked around at each of them and said, “Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me.”
There was a shocked silence as the disciples looked at one another. The teacher appeared agitated, and they were confused by this startling pronouncement in the midst of what was supposed to be a joyful banquet. All of them became greatly distressed and Peter turned to the teacher asking, really pleading him, saying, “Sure not I, Lord?” One after the other, all of the disciples asked him the same in anguished voices. After an eternal moment, the teacher answered them, “The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me.”

It was an ambiguous response since they had all dipped their hands in the bowl as they shared the Passover meal together. Before they could ask again, the teacher went on, “For the Son of Man is going as it has been determined, but woe to that one by whom he is betrayed!” The disciples were speechless, and that unfamiliar feeling began rising in Peter’s stomach, the one he had felt the first time he met the teacher. Just moments ago he and the others were in an exultant mood, but now they were all subdued having lost their appetite for celebrating with the teacher’s burdensome words.

A moment or an hour passed, Peter couldn’t be sure, and then the teacher interrupted the reverie. He took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” Each of them received their piece and ate it, not understanding what he meant. His next words unsettled them even more. After taking a cup and giving thanks he said, “Drink from it, all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.” The cup passed from disciple to disciple, as each one took a drink but still they could not comprehend his actions. Peter knew the teacher was passing something important down but was uncertain of how to respond.

It was quiet again as they lay in the room in heavy presence. The teacher began singing his favorite hymn, and gradually all of the disciples joined in. It was a song of praise yet their voices had a somber quality about it. After the last verse, the teacher rose from his place and exited the room. Not knowing what else to do, the disciples also got up and went to follow him because that was their custom.

Before long they were at the Mount of Olives, trailing after him on the road. The teacher stopped abruptly and turned to face them. His expression was sad as he said, “You will all become deserters because of me this night; for it is written, ‘I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.’ But after I am raised up, I will go ahead of you to Galilee.” None of the disciples knew what to say this second time either that the teacher spoke such condemning words. But Peter started to get angry.

“Though all become deserters because of you, I will never desert you!” He spoke without thinking as his emotions spilled out of him. His head was in a whirlwind as he felt both desperate and mad. He thought they had turned a corner when they arrived in Jerusalem, but now the teacher was headed down a path that was fatalistic for everyone. How could the teacher speak in such a manner when just hours earlier they were surrounded by awed crowds of people in the temple?

But he looked at Peter gravely and said, “Truly I tell you, this very night, before the cock crows, you will deny me three times.” Now Peter was outraged and offended—he was loyal to a fault and to have suggested three times in one night that he would be anything otherwise was too much. Hadn’t he left everything to follow the teacher? He retorted back to the teacher, “Even though I must die with you, I will not deny you!” The other disciples joined in with him, vehemently declaring their allegiance while the teacher simply listened.

Finally he turned and continued walking on, eventually entering the garden of Gethsemane. He told the other disciples to sit, but took Peter, James, and John with him further into a grove of trees. The teacher became even more distressed and agitated and Peter’s anger turned into fear. “I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and keep awake.” Then he walked deeper into the garden, leaving the trio of disciples alone.

They sat down and Peter realized how drained he was. It had been a roller coaster of a day and now, late into the evening, he only had a tree and hard ground to rest against. Time seemed to stand still as they waited for the teacher to return from wherever he had gone, and Peter’s eyes began to grow heavy with fatigue.

A voice was in his head, and as he awoke he realized that he had fallen asleep. “Simon, are you asleep? Could you not keep awake one hour? Keep awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” The teacher was standing over him and then leaving again. He looked around and saw that James and John were also asleep just a little ways from him. Peter struggled to his feet, but then sat down again as the teacher was already gone. He tried to pray but exhaustion overtook him once more.

This time the voice was much sharper and Peter bolted to his feet before he was even fully awake. “Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? See, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Get up, let us be going. See, my betrayer is at hand!” As Peter became fully conscious, he saw that they were no longer alone as a crowd of men was making their way severely over with clubs and swords. Judas, one of the other disciples, was ahead of the mob and rushed over to the teacher saying, “Rabbi!” as he kissed him.

Suddenly the crowd was upon them all and several men surrounded the teacher. Peter realized that they were about to arrest him and he reacted swiftly. Grabbing a sword, he swung towards the man closest to the teacher and struck off his ear. Before he could swing again, however, the teacher was rebuking him saying, “Put your sword back into its sheath. Am I not to drink the cup that the Father has given me?” Surprised, Peter dropped the sword and before he could do anything else the men had arrested and bound the teacher.

Chaos broke out and all the disciples fled the garden. Peter ducked behind a grove, and when the mob started on their way with their catch, he carefully followed from a distance. He recognized some of the faces as religious leaders and temple authorities, the same ones who had been lurking around the teacher earlier in the week. They made their way to a house near the temple, and stopped in the large courtyard. Peter went and sat across the way by a fire so he could see what would happen.

There were many people milling about the courtyard, curious about what was going on. Peter tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, but he noticed that he kept getting stares. Then a servant-girl, standing a little ways from him, pointed directly at him and said to the people around her, “This man also was with him.” Caught off guard, Peter quickly responded, “Woman, I do not know him.” He stood up and walked away from the fire, trying to shake off their glances.

After he saw that the group had left, he returned to the fire and sat down. He could see the teacher across the way, his hands bound and surrounded by guards. As he strained to get a closer look, he heard someone behind him say, “You also are one of them.” Whirling around he hastily got to his feet and backed away again from the fire, saying, “Man, I am not!” This time he exited the courtyard and started walking around the perimeter, trying to figure out what to do.

An hour later, he decided to risk entering the courtyard again to see what was going on with the teacher. There were more people gathered now, so many that Peter could hardly see him. He made his way towards the crowd but noticed the servant-girl from earlier staring at him again. She said something to a group of men who also turned to stare, and then one of them said loudly, “Surely this man also was with him; for he is a Galilean.” Others also turned to look at him and Peter began to panic. “Man, I do not know what you are talking about!”

At that moment, while he was still speaking, a cock crowed drowning out his words. The teacher turned and looked at Peter, their eyes locking. The prediction came flooding back into his mind, how the teacher had said, “Before the cock crows today, you will deny me three times.” A violent blow from one of the guard’s club broke their gaze as they began beating the teacher. Peter felt crushed and he rushed out of the courtyard with the sounds of the mob jeering in his ears. He ran as fast as he could, not knowing where he was going, and then in a desolate place, he collapsed onto the ground and wept bitterly.

* * *

Somehow Peter found his way back to the room where they had been celebrating the Passover. A few of the other disciples were there and as the hours passed, more returned. His brother Andrew came and together they sat in silence. Peter didn’t know if it had been minutes or years, but eventually James and John’s mother entered into the room and reported the devastating news. The teacher had been executed, crucified upon a cross. Screams and wailing filled the room as Peter’s whole body shook uncontrollably from the pain he felt searing into his heart. It was all over and he was swallowed in grief and despair.

* * *

Three days later, the disciples had just barely managed to pick themselves up off the floor. The previous days had been a nightmare of horrible news as the details of the teacher’s death trickled in from various sources. There was also a growing fear along with their sorrow because rumors swirled about the headhunting religious leaders. Apparently they had issued a warning to the citizens of Jerusalem to bring anyone associated with the teacher directly to them. Most of the disciples were trying to make rapid plans on how to depart from the city, but wanted to pay their respects to the teacher at the tomb he was buried in before they left.

Peter and Andrew were getting ready to leave when a group of women rushed into the room. Peter knew they had gone already to the tomb, getting up earlier than the rest of the disciples so they could anoint the body and lay the teacher properly to rest. He was thankful they had gone to prepare the teacher because he could not bear to see him otherwise, it was distressing enough.

But just as Peter and his brother had finished packing their bags, James and John motioned them over. The other disciples were trying to calm the women down, they were in such a state of frenzy. One of them had even fainted. When Mary Magdalene saw Peter, she made a beeline for him and kept exclaiming, “He’s gone, he’s gone!” Immediately that uncertain feeling began to rise in Peter’s stomach. He tried to understand what had happened as the women related their stories, speaking of angels and an empty tomb. Finally he gathered that they had seen a vision, telling them that the teacher had risen.

When the other disciples realized what the women were saying, they became scornful and did not believe them. They thought the trauma of the past few days had taken its toll and now the women were becoming delusional in their suffering. But Peter’s heart caught in his throat, and he quickly grabbed his bag and left the room. He ran as fast as he could, trying to remember the directions he had heard about how to get to the tomb.

Could it be? He racked his mind, trying to recall the teacher’s words to them. So many times he had blown the teacher off whenever he began speaking about his imminent death. Peter did not want to hear about suffering and defeat, but towards the end the teacher had become adamant. But if the teacher was alive now, his words had a whole new meaning. If he wasn’t in the tomb, then everything was changed.

He arrived at a small garden, the place belonging to Joseph of Arimathea. This was it according to the women. He followed the path and reached the tomb, hewn into the rock. A large stone was pushed aside, and the entrance wide open.

Peter stood there, his breath held as he tried not to think the unthinkable. At last he forced himself to step through his fear and into the tomb. There was no one there; it was empty of everything except some neatly folded linen cloths lying on a stone bench. He was amazed and then the women’s excited words echoed through his head, “He is risen! He is risen! The Lord is alive!”

Joy and anxiety both began to flood over Peter. Suddenly he knew exactly what to do. The teacher’s words came back to him about meeting up back at his home: “But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.” Peter turned away from the empty tomb, and exited the garden. He was going home, back to the Sea of Galilee and he couldn’t wait to see the teacher. His whole body trembled as he breathed in this new reality and hope. “He is risen,” Peter said softly to himself, and then beginning to run he shouted triumphantly, “He is risen! My Lord is alive! Christ has risen, indeed!”

"Rocky Times" - Pastor Erica (sermon)

2008-03-09T12:46:00-05:00

This sermon continues the series, "Growing With Peter." It is based on Matthew 16:13-26.

This was a new feeling for Simon Peter. A deep sense of belonging had taken root in him with the knowledge of the teacher’s love. After he had walked on water and been saved from drowning, Peter was confident that the teacher was for real, the one the prophets had spoken of. It was an amazing realization for him, shaping a new reality for Peter as he moved about under the teacher’s watch and care. Traveling around the region of Galilee, the past uncertainties he had held about his own future seemed to fade away—somehow he knew that the teacher would provide for him.

With his growing relationship with the teacher, Peter found himself more and more becoming the leader of the other disciples. It was a natural position for him, as the other men had gravitated towards him back when he was a fisherman. Peter liked being the spokesperson, and despite his limited religious credentials he was now seen by others as one of the more devoted followers of the teacher.

The group of them had journeyed through many of the lakeside villages, and so the teacher decided to head north, away from the sea. Peter did not often trek far from home, but was excited about the teacher’s next move. He had already experienced many of his miracles, a couple of them even personally. Recalling the time the teacher had healed his mother-in-law as well as the bountiful catch of fish that led him to leave everything behind, Peter expected that whatever lay ahead was sure to be even more impressive than the past displays of power.

After a few days on the road, they entered into the district of Caesarea Philippi. Peter had heard of the region from others, but had never been there himself. It was a popular destination because of its impressive geographical beauty and bustling commerce. Located in the foothills of Mt. Hermon, the city boasted many temples to the Greek god, Pan, and in fact was also known as Panias because so many people worshipped the god there. Everywhere the disciples and teacher traveled, they saw tributes to the half-man, half-goat god Pan.

Peter and the other disciples were absorbed in the sights all around them, admiring the lush vineyards and orchards. Soon they came to a gushing spring and stopped to take a break. As they were resting, many people passed them toting offerings on their way to worship Pan. The teacher rose and started walking in the same direction so the disciples got up to follow.

After walking through a forest, they came to a large cave carved into a sheer rock face that was over a 1000 feet high. The spring of water seemed to originate from deep within the cave, and many people were casting their sacrifices to the god Pan into it. Peter looked up and saw tributes to the god carved out on the rock above them—they had come to one of the sacred temples of Pan.

As he was taking in the whole scene, the teacher began to address him and the other disciples. “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” The Son of Man, it was the term that the teacher had been using to identify himself. Here, in the midst of the temple of Pan, the teacher was asking them what the consensus was by the larger public about who he was. It was a stark contrast between the stone carvings of Pan and the flesh and blood teacher.

A few of the men spoke up saying, “Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” Of course there had been buzz all around the region about the teacher. Many of the crowds who had come out to see him were convinced he was a prophet, but they debated about which one.

Then Simon Peter spoke up boldly, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God!” The words were out of his mouth before he could even really think; it seemed to have almost been a gut reaction to the question. The teacher looked at him with a smile and said to him, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven.” Simon Peter was surprised to hear the teacher call him by his family name because he had been identified as Peter since he had left home. He remembered the day his brother Andrew had led him out into the wilderness, the first time he had laid eyes on the teacher. Out there, the teacher had already known and identified him as Simon son of Jonah but then he had told him that he was to be called Peter, which meant rock. He was confused by the incident but had since forgotten about it. Now he was reminded and wondered again—why had he renamed him? The teacher seemed to know him in a way that even Simon Peter did not know.

As if he knew exactly what Simon Peter was thinking, the teacher spoke to him again saying, “And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” Standing under the huge rock, Peter felt a rush of exhilaration and was taken aback by the teacher’s pronouncement.

He had spent his whole life as a fisherman and very little time studying the scriptures or attending synagogue. His brother Andrew was the religious one. Yet here the teacher was proclaiming that Peter had a major role in his church and giving him special authority to lead it. Peter, the rock—he soaked in the new name given to him by the teacher. He realized that it was not by coincidence that the teacher had reasserted his name in this place, the rocky alcove filled with tributes to the god Pan. Simon Peter was being instructed by the teacher to fish for others, people like the ones bringing offerings to Pan. He was no longer to spend his time catching fish, instead he was to focus on catching people.

Days later, Peter was still relishing the special blessing and charge he had received. His newfound faith opened him to an increasing intimacy with the teacher as he shared all his thoughts and feelings. Whatever was on his mind and heart, whether it was worries about his family at home or trying to understand a new teaching, Peter found comfort in telling him. He was confident in the teacher and his own designated role given to him back in Caesarea Philippi.

But then the teacher began saying things that made Peter uncomfortable. Rather than staying in the region of Galilee, he wanted to go to Jerusalem. The disciples had already experienced the grilling that the elders, chief priests, and scribes had extended towards the teacher whenever they had the chance. Most of the disciples were like Peter, unschooled in the ways of the religious elite. It was no secret that these folks were just waiting for an opportunity to denounce the teacher as a false prophet so it was with good reason that Peter was wary.

Going to Jerusalem meant inevitable contact with the elders, chief priests, and scribes since that was their primary domain. Peter was never one to shy from a conflict or fight, but what the teacher spoke about seriously disturbed him. The plan didn’t entail any victorious showdowns, but instead he kept saying that he was going to be handed over to the religious authorities to suffer greatly, so much so that he would be killed.

Peter was flabbergasted. This made no sense to him—how could anything good come from the teacher being dead? Just when he had being growing close to him and confident of his power, the teacher was now switching course and deliberately walking into a death trap. And what about him—what about all the promises he had made about Peter being the rock and leading the church? How could he do that without the teacher’s presence?

He decided that he needed to confront the teacher. Though it had been less than one year since that fateful meeting in the wilderness, Peter could not imagine life without his Lord. And this was so out of character from his demonstrations of power. He felt something was off and that it was time to bring some sense to it all.

One evening, when the teacher was again telling the disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, Peter interrupted and took him aside. He was mad and had heard enough so he began to rebuke the teacher saying, “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you!”

Peter was going on as they were walking side by side, when the teacher stopped suddenly and turned sharply to face him. The look on the teacher’s face stopped Peter mid-sentence and he fell silent immediately. Fixing his eyes directly on him, the teacher said, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things!”

The words hit Peter like a slap in the face. He dropped his head from the intense stare, and after a moment the teacher walked away, leaving Peter to digest what had just happened. Only a few days earlier Peter had been called a founding rock and now he was named a stumbling block. The teacher’s impossible teachings came back to him, the ones he found incomprehensible and even a bit ludicrous. He could hear him now, speaking to the other disciples the same message again.

“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

Peter sank to the ground, hurt and confused. The intensity of the teacher’s words and expression were seared into his mind as he tried to make sense of why he had been rebuked. For awhile now the teacher had been speaking of the suffering and death he would be facing, and with each passing day his resolve seemed to grow stronger. Peter could not understand this which was why he had confronted him. The teacher was powerful and able to rally crowds together—why was he so insistent that things had to end in such a dreadful manner?

The way that the teacher had looked at Peter haunted him. It was a mixture of angst and fury, and it was clear that he was determined to end any more complaints or arguments about the path he had made up his mind to follow. Peter mulled it over and over. What did it mean to take up his cross and follow the teacher? How was he supposed to be the rock the teacher had named him if he was steadfastly marching towards a death trap? What were the divine things he needed to set his mind on instead of human things? Eventually Peter fell asleep exhausted.

He woke up to a gentle shaking of his shoulder, and groggily looked up to see the teacher’s face waking him up. There was no anger left, only compassion and peace. He extended his hand to Peter, pulling him up from the ground, simply saying, “Come.” Peter did not know what lay ahead, but felt certain that he wanted to stay with the teacher. It was enough for the moment and so he gathered his things up again, and left to follow him.

Boat of Indecision - Pastor Erica (semon)

2008-03-02T16:43:00-05:00

This sermon continues the "Growing with Peter" series. It is based on Matthew 14:22-33.

* * *

Simon Peter was exhausted. Lying in the hull of the boat, every bone ached from the months spent away from home following the teacher. He was having second thoughts about his decision to leave his fishing business, and wondered what he had gotten himself into. He replayed some of the events, trying to make sense of it all.

The first few weeks Peter found himself constantly astounded by the teacher’s powers. After healing more sick people in his village, the teacher decided to leave for another town. He got into one of Peter’s fishing boats and they set off to the other side of the lake. It was like his daily work routine, his fishing partners with him, only the teacher’s presence made it clear that they were not on the water to search for a catch of fish. Peter had rarely spent time on the lake apart from fishing, and he found himself strangely disoriented on his own boat without all his nets and equipment.

While Peter and the other disciples steered the boat, the teacher settled himself down and went to sleep. An hour passed and the lake started to get choppy as the wind picked up. Scouting the dark storm clouds on the horizon, Peter and his partners discussed the fastest way to reach the western shore. A couple of hours later they were still far from their destination and being buffeted by gale force winds. Amazingly, the teacher slept on despite the heavy rocking of the boat and splashing water.

Peter had been through many storms before and was confident in his abilities to safely navigate his boat. But as the dark clouds surrounded them and waves grew increasingly rough, the other disciples became visibly anxious. Peter, trying to stay calm, struggled against the wind to control the boat. It was useless, however, and seawater began pouring into it. Rocking turned to severe rolls and it was all the disciples could do to stay onboard. The sea tossed the boat around like a child’s toy, emptying itself of cargo while Peter and the others desperately clung onto its sides, terrified of falling overboard.

The noise of the storm was deafening, and though the men were shouting Peter could not make out the words. He saw one of them pointing towards the rear end of the boat, and was shocked to see the teacher, still asleep despite the violent squalls assailing them. He could not believe that in the chaos the teacher even remained in the boat since he could barely hang on. All of the men, Peter included, were stumbling their way over towards the figure. Their voices were drowned by the roaring of the sea, but as each man reached the teacher, their collective cry sounded out into the air, “Lord, save us! We are perishing!”

Through the spray of water, Peter could see that his eyes were open. No hint of panic or worry appeared on his face as the boat continued to sway violently. The teacher looked around at the disciples, his eyes pausing momentarily on each one. Then he murmured, hardly audible, “Why are you afraid, you of little faith?” Then he stood up effortlessly in the shuddering boat, facing the open water with raised hands, and commanded the storm to cease. Immediately the winds stopped and the boat came to a rest as the sea became dead calm.

The disciples were amazed and said to one another, “What sort of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him?” They did not have much time to chew it over as the boat arrived at their destination and the teacher was quickly on his way. The next few weeks were a blur of more miraculous displays of the teacher’s power. He healed sick people, gave sight to the blind, cast out demons, he even raised a dead girl to life! Peter’s confidence in the teacher grew with each demonstration of his abilities to do what no other person could. He began to think that his brother Andrew might be right, that the teacher was the Messiah who would deliver the Jews from Roman occupation.

Just as Peter began to put faith into this idea, however, the teacher began saying difficult things. He was preparing the disciples to spread the word around the region of Galilee, and warned them that they would be arrested by the governing authorities. Peter didn’t understand—why would anyone want to stop them from healing people and making them well? The teacher went on to say that they would be flogged and persecuted, all because of their association with him.

Then he said something that made Peter’s stomach turn. “Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child, and children will rise against parents and have them put to death; ²²and you will be hated by all because of my name…Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. ³⁵For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; ³⁶and one's foes will be members of one's own household. ³⁷Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; ³⁸and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

Peter was shocked. He thought he had already given up so much, leaving behind his fishing business, but now the teacher was demanding a ridiculous commitment. He couldn’t imagine turning against Andrew, his own brother. He couldn’t fathom not honoring his parents as they deserved to be. And he certainly could not conceive of himself getting anywhere near a cross, the horrific and cruel instrument that the Romans had invented to execute people. What kind of crazy teaching was this anyway?

His doubts about the teacher intensified when some old friends of Andrew came and found them one day. The men were disciples of the bug man, John the Baptist, and they had been sent to find out some information. John had been thrown in prison by King Herod, they reported, and he had just one question for the teacher. “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” Andrew was noticeably disturbed, and Peter remembered how his brother had been so convinced by his time in the desert with John that he too had left everything to follow the teacher. Was his old mentor having second thoughts as well?

As Peter mulled these things over, the teacher continued to talk in mysterious metaphors only making him more confused. In addition, he had stopped doing any miracles making Peter wonder if the past displays of power were just a dream, perhaps some forces of coincidence that made him see something more than was really there. And then bad news came.

Early one morning as they were getting ready to set out, Andrew’s old friends arrived again. The same ones as before, and it was clear something was wrong. In distraught voices, they reported to the teacher that John had been murdered, beheaded by King Herod, and they had just managed to recover his body to give it a proper burial. Andrew began to wail and the sounds of mourning were joined by his friends. Peter was caught between fear and concern for his brother, desperately wanting to return home but unsure of what to do.

He tried to comfort his brother, sitting in shocked silence while Andrew and John’s disciples lay prostrate, their bodies heaving from the sobs. Hours later, Peter saw a crowd approaching and he realized that at some point the teacher had withdrawn but was now returning to them with a multitude of people following him. He couldn’t believe it as this was hardly the time to be dealing with anyone, but there was nowhere to go to escape the masses since evening was fast upon them. After conferring with some of the other disciples, they decided to put forward a suggestion, really a strong request to the teacher that he send the crowd away. It seemed reasonable given the circumstances.

A group of them approached the teacher, who was surrounded by all sorts of sick and lame people. They said to him, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” It was as tactful as they could manage, when they all felt it was ludicrous to have thousands of people expecting them to do something in the midst of their grief. Surely the teacher could appreciate their distress.

But instead of agreeing, he responded, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” Stunned, the disciples looked at one another in disbelief. Did he expect them to make the trek into town to buy food for all these people, because they barely had enough to feed themselves. “We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish,” they implored him, their nerves shot from the last 24 hours. “Bring them here to me,” the teacher commanded. Peter did not know how much more he could handle. The extreme teachings, the death of John, and now their basic necessities taken away—he wanted out, now.

An extraordinary thing happened though that stopped Peter short. Before he could gather Andrew and their things up to leave, the teacher was blessing and breaking the bread, handing them out to the other disciples. As he gave Peter a heavy basket overflowing with fish, the teacher looked at him intently and Peter was reminded of his once sinking boat that had been overloaded with fish. He took the basket and started making his way amidst the families, offering as much fish as each person wanted to take knowing that there would be plenty more.

Finally, everyone seemed satisfied and the disciples collected the leftovers into twelve baskets. The teacher turned his attention to them and immediately made them pack up their belongings. He stood waiting by the boat, and it was clear to Peter that he expected them to get onboard right away, despite the late hour. After the last of them boarded, the teacher simply said, “Go,” and pushed them off and then returned to the crowds to dismiss them.

And so there Peter was, lying with the other disciples in the boat exhausted after the day’s events. After all his thoughts of leaving the teacher, Peter now had no idea where he had gone after dismissing the multitudes of people. The wind had picked up and propelled the boat far from shore. He fell asleep wondering how and when they would meet up with the teacher again.

It was early dawn when one of the disciples began to holler. Peter sat up to see what the commotion was all about. Straining to see what everyone was looking at, he saw in the distance a figure hovering over the water. At first he thought it might be a bird, but as it drew closer it was clear that it was the shape of a person. “It is a ghost!” one of the men cried out, and the rest of them were sent into a terrified frenzy.

A voice, however, broke through their fear and enfolded them in familiar words. “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” Peter leaned hard over the edge of the boat to try and make out the figure. His mind was racing with all the possibilities—could it be the teacher? Was he really the one the prophets had spoken of or was he just fooling himself into thinking so? How could he be certain that it was really worth leaving everything behind—his home, fishing business, family—to follow this person?

On an impulse, Peter blurted out to the approaching figure, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” The other disciples were flustered at his sudden outburst and attempted to persuade him to sit back down in the boat. Just wait, they pleaded, just wait and see what happens. But the voice summoned Peter, saying, “Come.”

And so Peter swung his legs over the side, his eyes fixed upon the figure. His heart was pounding in his head as he took the first step. As he felt the solid pressure pushing under his foot, adrenaline shot through him and he began walking boldly on the water towards the figure. After about ten steps, he was close enough to make out the features of the teacher. The weight of this realization made him falter—it was the teacher, with all his incredible powers and all his impossible demands. Why had he left the boat and the company of all the other disciples? Peter glanced around him and noticed the strong wind whipping the waves about his feet. He became aware of how vulnerable he was, out alone in the sea, and the panic started to rise into his throat.

He wanted to turn around and get back into the boat, but he was too far away. He began to sink into the lake, the frigid water making him gasp from its bite on his flesh. He saw the teacher’s figure and instantly, without hesitation, cried out to him, “Lord, save me!” Peter immediately felt a strong arm lifting him up and he found himself under the intensely tender gaze of his Lord. He said softly to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” Then the teacher firmly took his hand and led him back to the boat where the rest of the disciples were waiting to pull Peter back in.

As soon as they were both safely aboard, the wind ceased as if it were responding yet again to the teacher’s divine presence. Peter knew this second time was no coincidence, and there was only one appropriate response. Gratitude flooded over any lingering uncertainty and he fell down to his knees with the other men to worship the teacher, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God!”

A New Kind of Fisherman - Pastor Erica (sermon)

2008-02-24T14:57:00-05:00

This sermon is in the Lenten series, "Growing With Peter." It is based on John 1:35-42, Luke 4:38-42, & Luke 5:1-11.

"As I see it, we will never succeed in knowing ourselves unless we seek to know God." --Teresa of Avila

If somebody asked the question, “Who are you?” how would you answer? Perhaps you would tell them you’re a student or maybe you’d say where you worked. For those of you with Facebook accounts, you might tell them to look at your profile to find out not just your stats, but everything you’re into with pictures to illustrate. Of course, who you are might change on a daily basis, depending on what’s going on in your life. Here on campus, it seems there are many different roles you can try out. Who are you? Sometimes it’s the million dollar question.

We are in our Lenten Series, “Growing with Peter,” and each week we are taking a closer look at this one disciple’s faith journey. Today I’m going to be telling a story about him, using what we know from the various Gospels in the Bible, but also using my own imagination to paint a picture of the character Peter. I have taken creative license to flesh out the various incidents that we find in the scriptures to help bring his story to life. In reflecting upon who Peter was we may be able to step back and get a clearer sense of who we are. As we learn about this disciple of Jesus’, I invite you to imagine yourself walking in his shoes. Listen for your own story as we contemplate his.

* * *

Simon was a strong man, some might say stubborn. Raised by the Sea of Galilee, he and his brother Andrew spent their childhood years playing and fighting together as siblings often do. Confident as a youth and sometimes rash in his behavior, the other village boys naturally gravitated towards Simon, following his lead both into games and mischief. Andrew’s temperament was a bit meeker, and the other kids would on occasion tease him. But Simon, stronger, braver and always loyal, was quick to defend his brother and no one dared to cross him for fear of the consequences.

As the brothers grew older, they remained close as friends but their interests began to diverge. Andrew took after his mother, a bit more quiet and sensitive to those around him. He listened eagerly to the stories of his Jewish ancestors, and asked many questions about the temple in Jerusalem. Simon, more a person of action, loved to watch the men of the village down by the lake. Soon enough he began helping his father and uncles work the fishing boats, soaking up the attention he received from the other men who would often comment on how strong he was for his age. He quickly took to the craft and his young hands grew thick callous’ from spending long nights manning the fishing nets as he searched for a large catch.

As time went on and the brothers grew older, Simon and Andrew began spending less time together. Andrew’s religious devotion meant he was often at the synagogue listening to the teachings of the local rabbi. Despite his limited education and background, he had started to read a bit of the prophetic scrolls for himself. Simon, never understanding his brother’s fascination with matters of the temple, preferred to shoot the breeze with the other fishermen swapping stories about their adventures on the sea.

But the brothers remained devoted to each other, even if their days looked quite different. When their parents decided it was time for Simon to marry and take over the family business, it was Andrew’s suggestion of a certain young maiden that ultimately became Simon’s wife. Andrew worked hard to help his brother and wife start their new life together, building a home and getting them settled into the daily rhythms of being a family in the village. He was always reminding Simon to observe the Jewish festivals, and urged him to go to synagogue more often.

Though he loved his brother, Simon for the most part did not care to spend much of his time on religious matters and instead focused his energy on running the fishing boats. Years passed, and Simon’s reputation grew as a successful fisherman. He worked hard every night, and soon he had enough to buy another boat and bring on some other men to work for him. Villagers would tell of the time that Simon dived into the freezing lake to rescue a fellow fisherman who had fallen overboard. Or about his amazing ability to sense where the fish were and bring in a catch when other boats would come back empty. Simon became known as one of the leading fishermen not just in his own village, but also among neighboring towns along the lake.

Meanwhile, Andrew began talking about strange things. In fact, Simon was growing a bit worried about his brother. Some time ago there had been some buzz among the village people about a man out in the desert who ate wild locusts. At first Simon just scoffed as he and his partners would make disparaging comments about the “bug man” who was crazy in the wilderness. He disdained men who didn’t work hard to provide for their families.

But then he discovered that Andrew had been going out to see the so called bug man. One evening, when Andrew was having dinner with him and his wife, he confronted him. Rumors had been swirling around that a small band of people were now spending a lot of time in the desert, following after the bug man. “Actually”, Andrew told him, “I’ve been baptized by him and have become one of his disciples.” The brothers exchanged some tense words, and then finally dropped the subject after a sharp look from Simon’s wife.

Months went by and Andrew’s devotion to the bug man, called John the Baptist, only grew stronger. At best, Simon would manage to hold his tongue while Andrew went on and on about the prophecies. He couldn’t understand why his brother was doing this, and sometimes he would get frustrated with how he was wasting all his time in the desert instead of helping with the family business. Especially lately because Simon’s luck seemed to be running out. He was barely getting enough fish to keep the two boats he owned running and wondering if he might need to let some of his workers go. His days weren’t as busy since there had been less fish caught and therefore less to be sold.

Then one day Andrew came to Simon very agitated. “The one, the one the prophets have spoken about, the Messiah—I think I’ve found him!” He was so worked up that Simon couldn’t really understand him. The other fishermen were staring at them, empty nets hanging from their hands. Unable to really calm him down and talk some sense into Andrew, Simon finally agreed to go meet this man out of concern for his brother.

Tired, irritated, and feeling a bit belligerent, Simon was working up some choice words for his sibling. Andrew was leading him out to the desert in the middle of a workday, and he had left his boats unclean and unready for the next shift. Who was this man that had made his brother so unreasonable? Didn’t he know that their lives were already busy and that somebody had to attend to the family business? What kind of person spent all their time in the wilderness doing God-knows-what instead of something productive for the village? First it was the bug man they called John the Baptist, now his brother was rambling on about the Messiah. It was just too much for Simon and he was ready to finally straighten out not just his brother, but anyone else who got in his way.

He saw a small crowd in the distance, huddled around a figure that seemed to be teaching. As he drew closer, Simon cleared his throat, ready to confront the so-called Messiah. But with each step he took, Simon grew a bit unsure. There was an unfamiliar feeling rising in his stomach, and he suddenly didn’t feel so sure and confident. All his life he had been a bold person, but now he found himself at a loss for words. He stopped just short of the group and stared at the man, Andrew beside him.

And then the so-called Messiah looked directly at him in a way that Simon had never been looked at before. “You are Simon son of Jonah. You are to be called Peter.” Their eyes locked, and then the moment passed and the teacher went on addressing the group. Andrew was saying something excitedly to Simon, but he didn’t really hear him. He felt confused, still a little belligerent, but not sure of what had just happened. It was like this man had seen a part of him that even he was unaware of—yet how could that be? Without uttering a single word, Simon turned around and headed back to the village trying to shake it off. Back by the lake, he threw himself into the work of preparing the boats for the evening shift of fishing.

A couple of weeks passed and Simon’s routine of running the boats at night continued while Andrew now spent almost all his time following after the so-called Messiah. Privately Simon had told his wife about the incident, of how the man had somehow known his name, his father’s name, and then strangely had called him by a new name, Peter which means rock. Neither of them really knew what to make of it, and so Simon tried to forget about it and concentrate his energies on improving the family business. It was what he knew and who he was—a fisherman.

One morning though, his wife came to him anxious about her mother. Simon’s mother-in-law had been living with them since her husband had died. She had complained about not feeling well the past few days, and he had spent some extra time at the market trading the fish for some medicine. He left his partners to finish cleaning up the boats and hurried back to the house with his wife. His mother-in-law was lying in bed, flushed and moaning. She was barely conscious and breathing shallowly. Unsure of what to do, he began pacing back and forth. Clearly the medicine had not worked, and she seemed to be getting worse with each passing minute.

Finally, out of desperation, he began to recite some of the scriptures. He struggled to remember them, wishing that Andrew were there. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” His wife had begun crying, and he did not notice one of the servant girls had left the house. “He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters.” Simon’s mother-in-law seemed to quiet a bit, so he searched his mind for the rest of the words. “He restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake.” Simon did not notice the growing murmur approaching his house, as the familiar psalm became a prayer. “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me.”

At that moment, the man was beside him stretching his hand out over his mother-in-law and uttering things that Simon could not comprehend. He watched, as if in a dream, his mother-in-law rise from the bed and thank the teacher with a kiss on each cheek. There was noise all around him as the crowd that had entered into Simon’s house pressed in to get closer. As if from nowhere, suddenly there appeared many sick villagers whom sought out the man’s healing. Simon was again at a loss for words, and simply sat down and watched the unfolding drama, his mind blank. At some point Andrew was there, excitedly speaking to his wife and mother-in-law. Time seemed to stand still, as people came and went, his house the center of miraculous activity. Then the man was moving, heading out the door and Simon realized that hours had gone by and it was now dawn.

Somehow Simon roused himself from his trance, wondering for a second time what had just happened. As the days passed, word of the teacher’s healings spread and many people from all over Galilee came to the village. Strangers would stand outside his house, pointing eagerly and talking about the miracles. He no longer felt belligerent, but Simon was unsure of what to think. Twice now this man had crossed his path and both times Simon was left feeling uncertain about himself, something he was not used to. So he worked even harder at his fishing business, because it was the one thing that he did know about himself—he was a fisherman.

The teacher remained in their village and the crowds grew larger and larger. But Simon went on about his usual routine, fishing at night and trading during the day. Business still wasn’t doing great, and several evenings the boats would come back empty. Simon resolved to work harder, trying to maintain his reputation as a good fisherman, all the while keeping his distance from the crowds and teacher.

Then one morning, after a particularly long night, Simon caught sight of the crowds heading towards the lake. Looking around, he realized that the teacher was right by him and the boats. It was strange how the teacher always seemed to be suddenly present by him—it was unnerving though he was beginning to get used to it. He did not, however, want to be among the crowds who had taken to following and swarming around the teacher. He was not one of them. So he quickened his cleaning of the boats and nets, stepping out onto the shore so he could make his getaway before all the people arrived.

But then something unexpected happened. The man stepped into his boat just as he stepped off. Before he could say anything, the teacher asked him to put out from shore a little ways. Looking at the nearing crowd and his now occupied boat, Simon decided he couldn’t leave his boat, the source of his whole livelihood and for that matter, his whole identity with this strange man. He stepped back into his boat and pushed off because he too did not want to be pressed by the crowds of people.

Now he was stuck, sitting with the man as he taught the crowds from the boat. This was not what he had in mind and he wondered how long before he could reclaim his boat. Finally the crowds seemed ready to leave, either because they were satisfied by the teaching or bored because the man hadn’t produced any more miracles. When there were just a few people left, Simon lowered the oars back into the water, getting ready to row back to shore. However, the teacher interrupted him saying, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.”

Simon was dumbfounded. It was nearly noon now, with the sun blazing overhead. Even people who weren’t fishermen knew that you didn’t go fishing during the day, because the fish could see the nets. And he was exhausted after being out all night and stuck all morning in his boat. He stood frozen, not sure what to do. Andrew’s words began to sound in his head, “The one, the one the prophets have spoken about, the Messiah—I think I’ve found him!” That feeling of uncertainty started to rise, making Simon uncomfortable again. Because he did not know what else to do, he answered him: “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.”

After dropping the nets into the water, they quickly began to tug and pull. Surprised, Simon yanked on them to see what they were caught on. He quickly realized that there were fish in them, many fish. Straining to bring the catch on board, the nets began to tear. He couldn’t believe what was happening. His whole adult life he had prided himself on his fishing expertise, and here was this strange man who did not come from any sort of fishing background directing him to a huge catch. The teacher sat there calmly, watching him pull in fish after fish.

Simon signaled for his partners to come with the other boat to help. Several minutes later the net showed no signs of being emptied as the fish continued to pour onto the boats. The other men, at first elated with the successful catch and forthcoming wealth, soon grew quiet as they kept pulling fish after fish out of the net. The uncertainty that was in Simon’s stomach began to turn into fear as his boat became heavier and heavier with the load. All his life, all he strived to be as a fisherman, suddenly seemed oppressive with the mounting catch surrounding him. Then his boat began to sink, so heavy was the burden of fish.

In that moment Simon became overwhelmed. Who was he as a fisherman in light of this catch? What was he supposed to do with his life when the past months had been full of struggles to keep the family business going? As the water filled the boats, Simon snapped out of his reverie and saw that the man was still calmly sitting there, watching him. He suddenly felt like that rock, Peter, that the teacher had named him. A sinking rock as his whole identity was submerging him into the lake.

He stumbled across the piles of fish and fell down at the man’s knees. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore but sensed that the teacher had incredible, terrifying power. Feeling crushed by the weight of the fish in his boat, he cried out to him, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!”
And then the burden began to lift, with the water subsiding back into the lake and the boats stabilizing. As his breathing slowed, his vision also cleared and he looked all around him. There they were, hundreds and hundreds of fish, just lying there. The teacher stood up, reached out his hand to Simon Peter and said to him, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.”

Simon Peter took his hand and found himself off his knees, upright again facing the teacher. The boats were moving towards shore, filled with the miraculous catch of fish. With each stroke of the oar, Simon Peter knew that he was approaching a major decision. As the men docked the boats, the teacher stepped off and started walking away. Simon Peter looked at his boats, filled with fish, and then at the figure growing more distant.

No longer afraid, but still feeling uncertain, Simon Peter found himself trailing after the man. All he knew lay back with those boats and fish, but the teacher’s invitation beckoned to him. What did the man mean that he would be fishing for people? Where was he taking him? With a growing sense that this person held his destiny, Peter felt sure that he had to go. It was beyond reason and logic, he simply knew deep within himself that his life’s meaning and purpose was wrapped up with the man. As he hurried his pace to catch up, he realized that his partners were a little ways behind him. Grateful for the company, Peter paused a moment so that he was no longer journeying alone. Then together, they left everything and followed him.

Ash Sunday - Pastor Mark (sermon)

2008-02-10T23:37:00-05:00

Ash Wednesday 2008 had to be cancelled due to inclement weather in Madison. So we held an Ash Sunday service instead... This sermon is based on Luke 5:1-11.

            They had been fishing all night and had caught nothing. A very disappointing night it must have been. As they are washing their nets and packing up to go home Jesus comes along with crowd of people. He gets into Simon Peter’s boat and asks Simon to push off back into the water. After teaching the crowd from the boat Jesus then asks Simon to put his nets back into the water. There was a reason that he and his colleagues fished at night and not during the day – the fish could see the nets during the day and would avoid swimming into them. They were called trammel nets and were made of linen making them visible in the water when it was light out. There was no point in fishing with these nets during the day. But despite this and despite the fact that they hadn’t caught anything during the normal nighttime fishing period, Simon Peter agrees to do as Jesus asks and put the nets back into the water. That is when God shows up. A miracle happens. They catch so many fish that the nets cannot hold them all and they begin to break. When the fish are hauled up into the boats the boats begin to sink. What should have been a totally fruitless endeavor ended up being the most amazing catch they had ever experienced.

            Sometimes we are blessed with the opportunity to notice God showing up in our lives in dramatic ways like this miraculous catch of fish. Even though God is at work in the world all the time it is often hard to see it. But sometimes we have moments when we know God is there. When we are amazed by God’s presence, God’s power, God’s love. When we experience God’s grace. For me these moments often happen when I am playing with my girls. When Sophie laughs in pure delight or Emma gives me the warmest hug – I am filled with joy and gratitude to God for the gift of my kids. These moments come when we are looking at the sunset over Lake Mendota from the Terrace or in the quiet of a fresh snowfall. They come when a friend remembers your birthday or forgives your forgetfulness. God’s grace is even there when all we can do is get through one more day because the weight of life is overwhelming. In the big and the small God shows up. The journey of our lives is full of God’s grace.

            Today is the first Sunday in the church season of Lent. Lent is 40 days long beginning on Ash Wednesday and ending on Easter. Historically the Christian church would teach and prepare new Christians during Lent to be baptized on Easter. This tradition evolved into the practice you may be familiar with today of giving something up for Lent – chocolate, alcohol, video games, whatever. The point of that practice is to help us focus, to help us remember the season and contemplate the act of God dying on the cross and the resurrection of Christ on Easter morning. The 40 days are associated with the 40 days Jesus spent in the desert being tempted by the Devil before launching his ministry to the world. Lent is a journey. It is journey to the cross – to the place of God’s ultimate act of grace. It is a journey to the resurrection – to the place of God’s ultimate act of victory. This Lenten season at Pres House we are going to journey through Lent with the apostle Simon Peter. Peter is full of faith and doubt. He did amazing things and very stupid things. Through it all we are going to be looking for God’s grace showing up in Peter’s life and ours.

            That journey began this past Wednesday – Ash Wednesday. Like the traffic on I-90 Wednesday night, however, our journey has been delayed by weather. So we are experiencing the elements of Ash Wednesday today, this first Sunday in Lent. The journey begins with taking stock of ourselves and our position in light of God’s grace. Simon Peter was overwhelmed with the miracle he experienced, with the power of God’s grace showing up in his life. He was overwhelmed by the catch of fish. And his response is immediate, sincere, and heartfelt. He falls down saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!" When faced with God’s grace, when shown the power of God Peter is struck by the vast difference between himself and Jesus. He is struck by the wonder of this man Jesus and admits that he, Simon Peter is sinful man. A man full of weaknesses and failings. The parts of him that are not holy and not clean are made visible in the light of the majesty of God. And so he confesses his sinfulness. He admits his failings. He is honest with himself and with God in the presence of his friends. He makes a confession.

            Our culture does not usually encourage confession of mistakes. When politicians, business people or athletes are brought before congress to testify about some alleged misstep they rarely confess to anything. “I do not recall this” and “I cannot remember that” has become the response of choice. Along with a denial of whatever act he or she is being accused of. And that makes a lot of sense. In our legal system if you confess to a crime you are then subject to punishment. Confession is one of the most straightforward ways to convict someone of a crime. One summer in junior high school I spent a lot of time watching old Perry Mason re-runs. Do you remember Perry Mason? Those black and white murder mystery shows where the savy defense attorney Perry Mason would protect the innocence of his client by proving the guilt of someone else. In many of the episodes Perry Mason would gather evidence and then circle like a tiger around witness in the courtroom until he drove them crazy with his smooth talk. The show would end with a wild and unexpected confession from someone other than his client. Sometimes the confession would even come from a person in the crowd watching the trial. Justice was served when he or she was then arrested and taken off to jail. That is how our criminal system works, and often works quite well -- confession leads to conviction. Our images of Jack Bauer beating a confession out of someone on 24 have caused us to see confession as a sure way to end up killed or in jail or at least disgraced by society. Confession is not often portrayed in a good light.

            But that is exactly what Peter does in this story. He confesses his sinfulness and his mistakes. When faced with the wonder of Jesus he responds with confession. But this is where the Kingdom of God differs dramatically from our legal system. Instead of leading to jail and imprisonment, confession in God’s Kingdom leads to freedom. It is here that Jesus begins his ministry of forgiveness. He responds to Peter’s confession with the words, “Do not be afraid.” Instead of putting the handcuffs on him and leading him to jail, Jesus calls him to go out and share the good news – to become a fisherman of people. Instead of punishing Peter, Jesus forgives. He releases Peter to do great things. Peter’s confession frees him.

            I am not an expert on the Roman Catholic church but I think that there is something powerful about the act of confession that we don’t experience very much in the protestant church. That is why Ash Wednesday, or Ash Sunday as it may be, are critical dates on the calendar of faith. There is something important about admitting to God and to others the places that we fall short. Confession re-envisioned is freeing. It is freeing to be honest with ourselves and with others. To be honest with God. It is freeing to name the things in our lives that are not named. To bring out into the light the things that we keep in the dark. It is freeing to let down our barriers and take off our masks. To be real. Especially when we realize that God will not take that confession and use it to punish us or imprison us but to release us from bondage to ourselves and our mistakes. It is freeing to say, “I’m sorry.” Especially when we know that God forgives us.

"Who Cares?" - Pastor Mark (sermon)

2008-02-03T23:29:00-05:00

Based on Micah 6:6-8 and 1 Corinthains 1:18-31

Today we have the special treat of hearing some stories from two members of our community who did something a little different over the winter break. David and Alison joined a team from Covenant Presbyterian church here in Madison on a trip to Guatemala. They served as translators and had some great experiences but I will let them tell us themselves. Before they share I want to spend a few minutes reflecting on why someone would spend money and time to fly to a foreign country to serve with people who they’ve never met and are unrelated to.

This is the question I asked myself when I first heard about mission/service trips in high school. I had gone on an amazing trip to the mountains of Colorado with a church where we biked 250 miles over about a weeks time. We saw beautiful sites and had a blast flying down mountains at almost 50 miles per hour. Shortly after going to Colorado I heard about another trip that the church took every summer. This one was a little different though – it was to the Dominican Republic. The team spent about 10 days building an orphanage for kids. I like to travel and visit new places but as I heard more about the trip I had to wonder why anyone in their right mind would consider spending time and money on such an experience. It was almost 100 degrees during the day with 100% humidity. Team members worked hard all day doing manual labor with very few tools. To call the living conditions basic was generous. Huge bugs, mosquitos, outhouses, hand washing of clothes, unusual food – these were par for the course. Why would anyone want to play that game? But somehow, by God’s work in my life I guess, I found myself in the Dominican Republic a year later.

And it was worse than I had even imagined. There were 8 tarantulas waiting in the outhouse to greet us when we arrived – yes we counted. I slept on the roof of the building we were constructing because it was so hot “inside” at night. But then it would rain on us. I was too tired after pushing a wheelbarrow full of rocks all day up muddy hills to care about the rain. Or about the roaches that would crawl over and around us as we slept. The entire week I was dirty, hungry, covered in mosquito bites and exhausted. By the time we were on the airplane home I was spending most of the flight holed up in the tiny toilet trying to free my body of whatever bugs had made their home in my digestive tract. Why did I go on such a trip? Why would I care about the situation of people in a country thousands of miles away from my Midwestern home with whom I couldn’t even communicate because we spoke a different language? I had my own problems to deal with. Who can care about all the problems of other people in the world?

A quick survey of the news is all it takes to hear about problems so overwhelming it boggles the mind. Mass murder taking place in Kenya. New bombs in Iraq. Schools being burned down by the thousands in Afganistan. Chaos in Pakistan. Inflation in Zimbabwe that has made their currency less valuable than a piece of notebook paper. 60 million children around the world are malnourished. 60 million. Every year 2 million people die from Tuberculosis. And can you imagine being homeless here in Madison when it is 10 below zero? We could spend the next hour mired in the statistics and realities of our world. You get the picture. It is so overwhelming it is easy to give up hope and simply respond, “Who cares?”

A number of years ago I read the book, “The Fountainhead,” by Ayn Rand. The protagonist of her story is named Howard Roark. He is an architect who refuses to respond to the wishes and pressures of society that would direct his designs or his life. He is expelled from school because he insists on creating buildings that are not in fashion. He is fired from jobs because he will only draw exactly what he wants. He dynamites one of his own buildings destroying it because it is changed slightly during construction. He does only what he wants to do every moment of every day even when it causes others great pain. At the end of the book he triumphs over society as the hero - a powerful, self-sufficient man. He is perfect in his selfishness. As I read the book I was both repulsed and strangely attracted to this character. He is Ayn Rand’s hero because according to her: “Man—every man—is an end in himself, not the means to the ends of others. He must exist for his own sake, neither sacrificing himself to others nor sacrificing others to himself. The pursuit of his own rational self-interest and of his own happiness is the highest moral purpose of his life.”

This philosophy is disturbing to me as a follower of Christ. And yet it captures something that I believe lies deep within us all. It names openly the implications of Darwin’s concept of “survival of the fittest” – that life is a battle to survive and to thrive and we must be focused on ourselves in order to make that work. After all we each have our own problems. Our own financial difficulties. Family disputes. Bombed exams. Dashed hopes. Failed relationships. These are real problems. Why, how, should we care about others, especially people we don’t even know? There is enough to manage in life to just try to take care of ourselves and our families. Who can care about the problems of millions, billions of other people? It seems foolish to worry about all of that. It appears folly to think we can do something about it. It seems a mistake to waste our time and money on other people when life is hard enough for each of us. Why should we care? Any Rand speaks of this question when she says: “Now there is one word—a single word—which can blast the morality of altruism out of existence and which it cannot withstand—the word: "Why?" Why must man live for the sake of others? Why must he be a sacrificial animal? Why is that the good? There is no earthly reason for it—and, ladies and gentlemen, in the whole history of philosophy no earthly reason has ever been given.”

She is right. There is no earthly reason for altruism – no earthly reason we should care for others. In fact the entire Christian faith is in some ways foolish. Or at least it appears that way on the surface. 1^st Corinthians 1:18: “For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.” Look at that cross. It is an instrument of humiliation and death. The cross that is center stage in the Christian church is not a smiley face or a dollar bill or a diploma. It is not a self-help book. It is a symbol of sacrifice. God entered our world in Jesus Christ as a savior. But this savior did not dominate the world. This savior did not conquer with power and earthly victory. This savior did not exist for his own sake but sacrificed himself for others. He was the antithesis of Howard Roark. He poured himself out for others. He gave of himself. He cared.

Yes, it seems foolish. Counter-intuitive. Bizzare. Unlikely. And yet the Apostle Paul writes to the Corinthians that “God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God's weakness is stronger than human strength.” This same reversal of what seems to make sense takes place when we care about other people. It appears foolish to worry about anyone other than ourselves. But upon closer inspection and through real experience we find that caring for others is actually powerful. It makes us whole. When we care for others we realize that we are connected to each other. We are not alone. We are not self-sufficient. We are all in need of help and able to offer help. We have so much to learn. God calls us to care through the prophet Micah – “⁸ He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” This is not an arbitrary or random request from God. God knows that when we serve other people, when we care about their lives, we ourselves are made whole. Why do we care? – not because we are great and others are so pathetic that they need us to fix their problems. We care because God calls us to and caring makes us whole. To be truly human we must care. To be truly human we must enter into the lives of others to offer ourselves and to learn from them in the process. When we pour ourselves out for others we do not lose but gain.

It is all backwards. It seems foolish. And yet David and Alison are going to talk about how that happened to them in Guatemala. I know it happened to me on my first service trip to the Dominican Republic. As you listen to them share about their experiences think about ways you can care for others. Because even the best description of why we care is only the dimmest glimmer of really experiencing it for yourself. This semester Marcus is leading a Bible study exploring the history of Christian service using our passage from Micah as a guide. There are a couple more spots on the service trip to Kentucky over Spring Break which will be an experience of serving that will teach you a great deal. There are opportunities to care for homeless in Madison when we serve at the Men’s Shelter this coming Friday night and at St. Vincent DePaul the following week. We don’t tell you about these opportunities to make you feel guilty or harass you – we provide them because we believe that even though it seems foolish we are made whole when we give of ourselves.

So who cares? Who cares if there are tarantulas all over the outhouse - in the light of the joy of an orphan who now has a home? Who cares about sore muscles from a long day of work - when we gain so much from the families in Kentucky? Who cares if we miss some parties on Friday night - when we share a great moment with a guy at the men’s shelter? Who cares if there is a little less time to study when there is so much to learn from the world? Who cares if we can’t buy the newest cell phone because we spent money on a mission trip - but now have much more to talk about? Who cares about what we lose because what we gain in answering God’s call is so much greater? Who cares if it is foolish to care because in God’s kingdom that very foolishness is power? Who cares?

Saints in a New Year - Pastor Mark (sermon)

2008-01-20T23:13:00-05:00

This sermon was for the Sunday before Martin Luther King Jr. Day using the text 1 Corinthians 1:1-9.

It is a New Year. 2008. It always takes me a few weeks, sometimes months, to get used to writing 2008 when I have to put the date on some form or another. But here it is. And the new year always means new promises. Promises to others and promises to ourselves. Resolutions to do something different, better, healthier. Like study more throughout the semester instead of cramming the night before a midterm or final. Or exercising more. Or staying in touch with friends from home better. Maybe coming to church more regularly. A lot of people make a New Year’s Resolution to lose weight. To stick to that diet and really make it work.

When I was a freshman in college I had three friends who actually made a resolution to do the opposite of losing weight. At the beginning of spring semester, right at this time of year I was sitting with this group of three friends at dinner in the dorm dining hall. Obviously I am a pretty skinny guy. And I was back in college too, big surprise. Well all three of my friends were as skinny, or more so, than me. How the four of us ended up hanging out I don’t know. Our combined weight couldn’t have been much more than that of a large pro football player. And back then we were all self conscious about it. So one of the guys suggested a pact, a resolution. He proposed that we each try to gain 10 pounds by the end of the semester. A little less than a pound per week. There were lots of nods of agreement around the table. Yeah, let’s try to gain some weight so we will be more robust for the ladies (which of course was the point). I wasn’t quite as excited about the pact as the others. Sure, I would have liked to have beefed up a bit but I was realistic, pessimistic you might say. I hadn’t gained a pound since the beginning of high school and I didn’t see why I would suddenly start then. But I was all for supporting this goal of my friends. After a few minutes of excited chatter around the group about how great it would be to be bigger I asked an obvious question: How? How will you gain weight?

Silence.

Nobody wanted to take some kind of supplement – they couldn’t afford creatine and didn’t want to try steroids. Nobody wanted to drink milkshakes full of egg yolks or protein powder every day. Some of them didn’t even eat more than one or two meals a day – sleeping through breakfast and even lunch at times was preferable. And most problematic of all -- none of my friends wanted to work out in the gym. In fact they didn’t really want to do much differently at all with their lives to make their resolution a reality. Then the guy who came up with the pact in the first place proposed the answer: “we will come in the dining hall the minute it opens each night at 5:30 and stay until it closes at 8. While we are here we will eat the entire time as much as we can.” That was his plan for gaining weight. Overeating for a couple of hours each night. --- Which is pretty much what we had all been doing the previous semester already! – and we hadn’t gained a pound between the four of us. As you might guess the pact went on for a few weeks, nobody gained an ounce of weight and the whole thing was dropped before midterms started.

My group of friends from my freshman year of college isn’t much different than most people. We set out with great intentions making our New Year’s Resolutions but a quarter of us have given them up a before the first week of the new year is over. Have any of you given up a resolution yet? But yet we keep making them year after year. Why? Because we are masochists who want to set ourselves up for failure over and over again? Because we are hopeless romantics who think that each time will be different from the last? Maybe those things are true. But I think that at some level we keep making resolutions because we want to better ourselves. We want to grow. To be healthier. To be stronger. To do good things. And that isn’t a bad reason at all. As I sat down to write my sermon this week I saw a bookmark on the table that had a quote by Mary Oliver printed on it. It said, “What do you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” When we step back and pause for a moment we realize that life is wild. Crazy. Unpredictable. And it is precious. It is a gift more valuable than all the diamonds in the world. So it is a good thing to ask, “What am I going to do with my one wild and precious life?” Am I going to make the most of it? And how can I live better? At the core I think New Year’s Resolutions are an attempt, a poor one perhaps, but an attempt to answer that question.

In our scripture passage for today we read the beginning of the apostle Paul’s letter to the Christian church in Corinth. Paul challenges the Corinthian church to consider what they are doing with their lives – and he calls them to live as saints. This text from 1^st Corinthians is the lectionary passage for this Sunday. Today and for the next two weeks we are going to preach from the lectionary before the church season of Lent begins. The lectionary is a way of breaking down the Bible into pieces that can be read and preached on each Sunday. There are in fact readings for each day of the week. It is a historical tradition in many Christian denominations. The purpose was to be sure that people and churches heard parts of the whole Bible and that we don’t get stuck on only some passages of it. The lectionary that many churches use today comes from the Revised Common Lectionary that breaks the Bible into pieces that are spread out over a three year period before they are repeated. Each Sunday there is a passage from the Old Testament, a Psalm, a passage from one of the Gospels in the New Testament and a passage from the letters of the New Testament. The passages also follow the church calendar to include readings at Lent, on Easter, during Advent and Christmas as well as other special times in the church year. Today we are going to look at the passage from the letters from the lectionary for January 20th. The text today comes from Paul’s letter to the church in Corinth. Millions of people have heard this same scripture read in church today. We are bound together with Christians all over the world through common practices like the lectionary as well as a common faith.

¹Paul, called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and our brother Sosthenes,
²To the church of God that is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, together with all those who in every place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours:
³Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
⁴I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus, ⁵for in every way you have been enriched in him, in speech and knowledge of every kind—⁶just as the testimony of Christ has been strengthened among you—⁷so that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ. ⁸He will also strengthen you to the end, so that you may be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. ⁹God is faithful; by him you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.

This passage is Paul’s opening greeting to the Corinthian church. The church in Corinth was diverse, made up of Gentiles and Jews. It had developed factions within it vying for power and authority with leaders claiming different theological positions. People were ranked in a status oriented hierarchy, sometimes based on their spiritual gifts. The church had many gifts but they were not unified and in many cases were not using their gifts productively. Into this context Paul writes his greeting: “²To the church of God that is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, together with all those who in every place call on the name of our Lord… ³Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” This is quite an opening. No small talk, no inside jokes. Paul launches right into his message to the church in Corinth – you are called to be saints. You are called to make the most of your life. To take seriously your faith in Jesus Christ and let it show. And to start by recognizing that all of you are called to be saints, along with Christians around the whole world. Not just one faction or another. Everyone is equally sanctified and called to live as saints together. To be united in attempting to live out the gospel of Jesus Christ in the church and your lives. Paul goes on to remind them of the gifts that they have been given. Grace and forgiveness through Jesus Christ, spiritual gifts that can be shared, and strength from God who promises to make them whole and complete. They have a lot. They should use it for good rather than for argument and division. They are called to be saints. To make some resolutions and keep them.

But what is a saint? The catholic church has a particular definition of what makes someone a saint. But I’m speaking more generally. What does it mean to be a saint? Perhaps we can look at an example of someone who seems saintly to get an idea of what that involves. This weekend is a special weekend. Not just because of the Packers game or the beginning of a new semester. But because tomorrow is the day we remember Martin Luther King Jr. Each year in mid-January many people get a day off of work or school to honor a real American hero. But though it is very fitting to honor his life and death with a day, Martin Luther King Jr. day is also a reminder and a wake-up call. It is a chance to stop, remember his life and be inspired. It is chance to reflect on our own lives and the contributions that we make to the world. It is fair to say that Martin Luther King Jr. is a saint. And his story can be an inspiration to us.

Martin Luther King Jr. is inspirational because he was killed for his belief in the equality of all people and his commitment to the civil rights movement. He is inspirational because he marched, organized, and went to jail in order to make real change for all of us. He is inspirational because even though he and his family were threatened, beaten and ridiculed he held fast to a message of non-violent social change. His sermons and letters are a marvel of thoughtful, powerful, inspirational messages from God to humanity. He was a saint who gave so much for so many. But to this list I will add something that lies beneath all of King’s life and work and truly made him a saint – his faith in Jesus Christ.

At the age of six the young Martin Luther King Jr. was shocked to be sent home by a friend’s white father after being told that they couldn’t play together anymore because King was black. At the age of eight a white woman turned to young Martin in a department store sneering, “You’re the little nigger who stepped on my foot.” And then she slapped him. In high school returning to Atlanta from a speech contest on a bus King and his teacher were told by the bus driver to give up their seats to whites who had just gotten on. “When we didn’t move right away,” Martin recalled, “the driver started cursing us out and calling us black [SOBs].” They stood in the center aisle for the full 90 mile journey back to Atlanta.

King was subjected to the crushing racism and discrimination of the American landscape day in and day out. And yet he went to college at age 15, finished first in his seminary class, got his Ph.D and was named one of the top 5 students his professor at Boston College had taught in over 31 years – not to mention that he changed the culture, history and laws of our country forever. How did King survive a society that told him repeatedly that he was worthless? That he would amount to nothing. That he was the furthest thing from a saint. Certainly part of the answer is his faith in God.

According to the theologian James Cone, “No matter what whites said about blacks or what wicked laws they enacted against their humanity, the people [in the church King grew up in] believed that God had bestowed upon them a somebodyness which had been signed and sealed by Jesus’ death and resurrection.” Even in the midst of the overwhelming racism of daily life they claimed for themselves the gospel message stated in the first verses of Paul’s letter to the church in Corinth. We are saints. Through Jesus Christs’ death and resurrection we are made new. We are made into somebody. We are saints.

The first step in living as a saint is laying claim to the truth and joy that we have already been made saints by God in Jesus Christ. Paul begins and ends each of his letters with the message of grace. Our lives, our actions, our calling begins and ends with the grace of God. We have been made saints by God – the challenge is to accept that and then to live it out. To live into it. To act like the saints we are. It isn’t the great sermons and amazing sacrifices that make King a saint – it is the grace of Jesus Christ. It isn’t Martin Luther King Jr.’s death that makes him a saint – it is death of Jesus Christ. King embraced his God given sainthood. But King took his sainthood in Christ seriously. He didn’t take it for granted. He lived for it. He let it change his life. Unlike my friends who resolved to gain weight but did nothing about it, he took action each and every day to follow through on his resolution – on his calling to sainthood.

As I wrap up my thoughts today let me reword the opening of Paul’s letter and speak it to you as a blessing. Hear this message from me, from Paul, from God as you look forward into a new semester and a new year:
Pastor Mark, called to serve God as best as I can and seek the will of God, and my sister in ministry, Pastor Erica, share these words with you the community of God that is here at Pres House. To all of you who are made whole in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, together with people who seek Christ all over the campus and throughout the world, all joined together through God: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
I am thankful for all of you and grateful to God that each of us is made a child of God through the grace of Jesus Christ. You are a part of God’s family, not through your own work but through God’s gift to you. You are a gifted group of people. God has blessed with you skills, talents, bright minds and caring hearts. You have opportunities aplenty on this campus to learn, grow, study abroad, go on mission trips, live together, attend amazing lectures and meet incredible people – you are being built up by God to do great things. God will strengthen you this year even more. Take advantage of the opportunities offered to you. Be ready to receive God’s gifts. And take seriously your calling to live as the saints God has made you. This semester learn new things, make a new friend, be a new friend, do something difficult, live a little healthier, love a little more, pray a little deeper, take some good risks. Lay claim to your sainthood and let it change your life. God is faithful. Amen.

Hidden Characters of Advent: Elisabeth - Pastor Mark (sermon)

2007-11-25T12:19:00-05:00

This sermon is part of a series looking at the hidden characters of Advent. The scripture for this Sunday was Luke 1:5-25; 39-45; 57-66.

           Christmas starts earlier and earlier every year. We just had Thanksgiving but before it was even over, before it even began, we were heading full steam ahead towards Christmas. Christmas trees and ornaments. Friday sales. Pretty lights on the neighbors’ house. Reindeer on the roof. These things have begun in earnest. It is ironic that just hours after we give thanks for the abundance of the earth and God’s gifts we get up at the crack of dawn (or don’t even go to sleep at all) to head out to the mall and buy more things that we hope will make us happy. We jump straight from giving thanks to wanting more.

            You’ve probably heard this complaint about Christmas starting too early before. Every year around Thanksgiving you will find people grumbling about how all the holidays just run into each other becoming one big ball of stress and how there isn’t time to enjoy each one by itself. But I am not actually sure that Christmas starting earlier is a problem. Sure, I think the Thanksgiving/Consumer Friday combination is a bizarre and ironic pairing – though I must confess I have availed myself of Thanksgiving weekend sales with some joy. But perhaps it isn’t terrible that we begin thinking about Christmas early. Anticipating Christmas sooner rather than later could be a good thing. Emma has been talking about visiting her grandparents in California at Christmas since July. She uses the phrase, “I can’t wait to see them…” Which she has learned also means, “I am excited for Christmas…” Is it a problem to be excited for Christmas?

            The Christian church has for many centuries celebrated the anticipation of Christmas weeks ahead of time. Christians light candles, read the Christmas story and reflect on the message of God being born into the world as a tiny baby days and weeks before it actually happens. This time of preparation is called Advent. Advent is the time of year that when we look forward to, anticipate, and are excited about the coming of Christ at Christmas. It is like the churches’ version of blowout sales and Black Friday. And it takes place well before the event itself. Today we are beginning our Advent series here at Pres House. And this year we are looking at hidden characters of Advent – people who feature less prominently in the stories. Today we are looking at Elizabeth – the mother of John the Baptist. Because we don’t hold worship on Sundays at Pres House over the Holiday Break between semesters we don’t have a chance to meet for all four of the weeks of Advent leading up to Christmas. Our last Sunday together is the third week of Advent. So here at Pres House we move Advent up by one week and start it a little early. We do just what the big retailers do when they open at midnight on Black Friday. We move things up a bit. We start earlier. And I think that instead of being a problem, this move forward can be a good thing if when we do it -- we expect surprises. That is what Christmas, and our scripture passage for today, is all about – expecting surprises.

            There are four gospels in the Bible at the beginning of the New Testament that tell the story of Jesus. Luke is the third gospel. It is also the only one that tells this story of the birth of John the Baptist. John the Baptist appears as a grown man in the other three gospels preparing the way for the coming of Jesus the Christ. But even in his birth, as told here in the gospel of Luke, John prepares the way for Jesus. The story of John’s birth begins with his father Zechariah. Zechariah was a priest. He was also married to a woman, Elizabeth who came from the priestly line. Both of them are praised for being righteous and faithful followers of God. Zechariah is especially blessed on this occasion because he has come upon the honor of going into the sanctuary of the temple to offer incense to the Lord. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that was decided by casting lots among the priests who had not yet served in this way -- essentially by drawing straws. Zechariah drew the longest straw and gets to go into the sanctuary. The sanctuary in the temple is the place that the Jews held as most sacred because God was present there in a special way. Only Zechariah is allowed to go in while everyone else waits outside.

            So Zechariah is experiencing an incredible opportunity. It is the pinnacle of his priestly career. A once-in-a-lifetime chance to go into the very center of the temple, into the closest presence of God to offer praise on behalf of the people. But in my description so far I have neglected to mention a key fact in the story. Not all is well with Zechariah and his wife Elizabeth. Because they have no children. Elizabeth is barren. They are old and past the age of being able to bear children and they are alone. This is a major hole in Zechariah’s spiritual resume. It is like discovering that the CEO never went to college. Because for pious Jews at the time children were a sign of God’s blessing and favor. And a lack of children was a sign of a lack of God’s favor. Maybe even of punishment. It was a disgrace and a major source of sorrow for Zechariah and Elizabeth. Zechariah had prayed to God for a child. He had probably been praying for years, maybe even decades. But Elizabeth remained barren.

            So here is Zechariah going into the very presence of God in the sanctuary of the temple with this big weight on his shoulders and desire in his heart. His job is to light incense for God. To be the one who represents the rest of the people to God. He is going into a holy, sacred space where God dwells. A place where he might expect to actually meet God. A place where he might expect to encounter the very Lord he had been praying to and serving as a priest for his whole life.

            After entering the space Zechariah goes up to the altar to offer incense. As he goes to light it he turns and sees an incredible sight standing at the right side of the altar – an angel of the Lord is actually there in the room! The angel tells him that his prayer has been heard and that his wife Elizabeth will indeed bear a son. His son, to be named John, will be a great person who will lead many people back to faithfully following God. Wow! God shows up in that sanctuary with a message of joy and hope.

            But Zechariah doesn’t expect it. He wonders, quite naturally, how this can be true and how Elizabeth can have a child when it is clear that it is impossible by normal standards for her to get pregnant. Zechariah thinks, I know how babies are made and I can tell you, it just isn’t happening for us… The angel responds by telling Zechariah that what the angel has said will indeed come true and because he didn’t believe it Zechariah will lose the ability to speak until after the baby is born. Apparently the life-long priest offering incense in the sanctuary of the temple did not expect God to actually be there. The righteous blameless servant was ready to light incense but not to meet God in God’s dwelling place.

            I’ve spent a lot of time talking about Zechariah and no time yet talking about the person we are looking at today – his wife Elizabeth. That is because the insights we gain from Elizabeth come largely out of the contrast between her and her husband. So let’s look at how she responds to God showing up and giving them a child.

            After the first introduction of Elizabeth as a righteous woman and a daughter of the priestly line we don’t hear much about her until she conceives a child. When she conceives she remains in seclusion for 5 months. We aren’t sure why but perhaps she waits until she is showing so that when others see her they will know for sure that she is indeed pregnant. What is most amazing about Elizabeth in this story is that unlike her husband Zechariah she did expect surprises from God. When she comes out of seclusion and announces her pregnancy she says: ²⁵ "This is what the Lord has done for me when he looked favorably on me and took away the disgrace I have endured among my people." Elizabeth responds to God’s gift with immediate thanks. She didn’t see the angel in the sanctuary and her husband has not been able to talk to her about his vision because he’s been mute. But she is sure that this pregnancy is a gift from God and she is ready to receive it. Without cynicism, skepticism or disagreement. She expects the surprise of conceiving a child when it is clearly impossible without God. She is ready for God to heal the barren place in her life. This hidden character, the disgraced woman, is exalted over the pious priest in her simple acceptance of God’s ability to do a miracle and to show up in her life. The contrast between them is meaningful and enlightening.

            It forces me to consider what I expect of God. Do I expect God to actually show up in my life or am I cynically resigned to just reading stories about God at work in other people and at other times. Unfortunately I think that most of the time we do the later. We live like Zechariah. Even if we believe in God, pray and come to church we don’t actually expect God to show up. That later one is especially striking. What do you expect when you come to worship? To see your friends, to have a nice meal together, to sing along with some pretty songs, to try and stay awake while someone preaches at you? Those are all wonderful parts of worship – but they don’t exist for their own sake. Last year Emma took to running around our house yelling, “Bawk, bawk. I am a pastor, bawk bawk. This was around Halloween when she was dressed as a chicken. Apparently she associated pastors with clucking chickens. Pastors sound like that sometimes but even if every word we say isn’t meaningful to you our preaching is done for a reason. Travis leads us in musical worship for a reason. We take communion together each week for a reason. And we sit together at the dinner table for a reason. We do all of these things to make space in our hearts and minds for us to meet God. To encounter Jesus Christ right here in this space. Each week. So do you expect God to actually be here when you come to worship? A lot of the time, maybe even most of the time, we come to worship like Zechariah. We come with burdens, we come praying perhaps, we come into the sanctuary where our entire purpose is to commune with God – and yet we don’t actually expect God to be here.

            When I was in college I attended InterVarsity’s Urbana Missions conference. It is a huge gathering of over 20,000 people that takes place every three years during the week after Christmas. It is an opportunity to worship together, hear speakers from around the world and learn more about missions. At one of the evening sessions a highly anticipated speaker got up to share but he could not be heard. He had lost his voice. He was going to talk about the gospel message of the grace of God in Jesus Christ but the crowd couldn’t hear him. So the organizers got some people to stand up behind him on the back side of the stage, put their arms up towards him, and pray. As they prayed he began to speak and his voice returned. He delivered a powerful message of God’s love to all of us gathered there. It was a miracle witnessed by 20,000 people. We were amazed and excited by God showing up in that worship time. But within a few minutes after the session closed there were murmurings of skepticism around the campus. People began saying, “I heard that he took a few cough drops and that is why he was able to speak.” And others said, “Well it was cold outside. He probably got his voice back once it had a chance to warm up.” And so the discussions went. People went from being amazed by God’s presence back to the assumption that God couldn’t actually give the man his voice back.

            I’ll admit I was one of those skeptics. I don’t know how he got his voice back. Maybe it was a cough drop that helped. Or maybe the warm air inside. Or maybe someone praying was reminded by God to give him a cough drop… who knows. I don’t think it actually really matters. What makes me sad is that I along with many others didn’t actually expect such a surprise. We were all gathered in an indoor stadium for worship – but we didn’t actually expect God to show up. We were not open to the possibility that God could be there and could heal a man’s voice.

            I contrast this experience with my memories of Christmas growing up as a kid. I was so excited for Christmas morning that I would have trouble sleeping. Were any of you like that? Well I would try to tire myself out before going to bed so I could sleep. I would run around my room, do pushups and all kinds of other exercises to try and get tired enough to sleep through the night. I didn’t realize then that exercising right before going to bed actually does the opposite of making you tired. I did all this frenetic activity because I was excited for Christmas morning. Because I expected some wonderful surprises. My parents were great about putting together an excellent stocking of little gifts and lots of other amazing presents each year. They weren’t extravagant but they were very nice and each year I was very pleased with my haul. I knew that when I went downstairs I would find a pile of wrapped presents and underneath the paper I would find some great gifts. I expected a wonderful surprise on Christmas morning.

            Do you expect to get gifts at Christmas? Physical, material gifts? Do you expect to be surprised? I have to think that Black Friday and the shopping frenzy that we will experience from now through Christmas eve is all about expecting those surprises. Getting and giving surprises to family and friends. Unwrapping presents. So I have to ask then, if we expect presents at Christmas why shouldn’t we expect God at Christmas. Elizabeth did, not only did she receive God’s gift to her in the form of a son but she was also the first to prophesy about the child in Mary’s womb. Mary, a relative of Elizabeth, experienced a similar miraculous pregnancy – this one with out any sex at all – and came for a visit. When she came into Elizabeth’s house the women greeted each other with warmth. And then Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit ⁴² and exclaimed with a loud cry, "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. She was open to the surprise of her son John and to the surprise of Mary’s son Jesus. She expected God to show up. And God did.

            The story of Elizabeth ends with the birth of her son John. God fulfilled the promise that she would bear a son. But that wasn’t the only way God was present in her life. God showed up much more directly than even appearing to Zechariah in the sanctuary or answering their prayers for a son. God showed up as a human being – a tiny baby – in the child Jesus. God came into the barreness of Elizabeth’s womb and gave her a child. And God came into the barreness of the world – as a child. That is what Christmas is all about. What a surprise!

            So I don’t think it is bad at all if we start Christmas early. Let the anticipation, the excitement, the joy begin now. We don’t need any more sales at the mall. But we do need to expect some surprises at Christmas. So move up the date when we begin preparing. Go ahead. In fact, let some of that Christmas spirit spread throughout the whole year. Expect God to show up all the time. Instead of just anticipating presents look forward to God surprising you during this Advent season, this Christmas season. Expect God to meet you here in worship every week. And be ready for God to heal the barren places in your life each and every day of the year. If that is what Christmas is about then it can’t start a day too early.

Tables, Oil and Overflowing Cups - Pastor Mark (sermon)

2007-10-14T23:56:00-05:00

This is part of a series on Psalm 23.

I have grown to love fine dining. There is something incredible about gathering around a table with people I love and sharing a very special meal. I wasn’t always this way. For many years I didn’t understand what all the hype was about fine dining. I couldn’t understand spending large amounts of money on food. It just wasn’t a part of my world. That all changed one night a few years ago.

            When Erica and I were in grad school at seminary we became really good friends with two other couples who were also all students. Some of you met one of the couples on our retreat this weekend – Erik and Kate Weibe. The six of us moved into the same apartment building and started our seminary classes all together at the same time. While the three couples now have a total of 7 children, back when we started our programs none of us had kids. We spent a lot of time grilling outside our building, eating lunch in the cafeteria or sharing dinner together in one apartment or another. We sat around a table a lot. But there was one night that really changed my view of food. One of the men in our group – Jeremy – is an amateur gourmet chef. His favorite gift for Christmas or his birthday is to go to a fine restaurant for dinner. More than an I-pod, a new TV, tickets to a show or really anything else, Jeremy loves to eat the best food. He also loves to cook it.

            So one weekend he invited the six of us over for a home cooked gourmet meal. He spent the entire weekend shopping, preparing and cooking this meal. I think he ran the dishwasher 5 or 6 times in the process as he went through each of his pots and cooking implements over and over again. And that was before we even ate! Then we all showed up on the appointed night for the dinner. It started with a single shrimp on a fork for each of us. Yes, just one shrimp – but it the best shrimp I have ever tasted in my life. It had taken him hours of creating a homemade broth and seasoning and all kinds of other things I can’t even describe or understand to create one shrimp for each of us! We went on to eat 8 incredible courses including tapenade and crusty bread, creamy asparagus soup, hand-made ravioli, salmon, veal, a cheese course, sorbet in an almond crust bowl, and even hand-rolled chocolate truffles. Each course took hours of careful preparation and were made with only the finest ingredients. I have never had a meal like it in my life and I am not sure I ever will again. It was of course made all the more tasty by the presence of good friends and lots of laughter. It was truly a feast. It was an overwhelming experience. It is what I think of when I hear the words from Psalm 23 for today, “You prepare a table before me…”

            Today we are looking at the 5^th verse of the incredibly rich prayer that sustains us – Psalm 23. Last week we talked about fear. What are we afraid of? And what does God provide for us to guide us through our fear? ⁴ “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff-- they comfort me.” God’s discipline is a gift that helps us make it through the darkest valleys of our life. And then we read today’s verse: ⁵ “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.” In this verse the psalmist has made it through the valley of darkness, or at least a valley of darkness, in his or her life. And what is on the other side of this valley? A banquet table. A feast. An incredible meal where God is the host! As in the previous verse God is referred to here in the personal second person, “You prepare a table before me…” The personal, shepherd God prepares a feast for the psalmist. A feast of amazing quality. Perhaps a little like the 8 courses my friend Jeremy prepared for a group of hungry seminary students.

            I can think of another feast that I ate under very different circumstances that also reminds me of this verse. This one took place in a tiny mud hut in the rural mountains of Ethiopia. I was there with Erica leading a team of 10 people on a mission/work trip in partnership with Food for the Hungry. Part of our trip was to spend a night in the home of a local farmer – and it was literally a one room, mud hut. We helped hoe some potatoes fields in the afternoon and then as it began to rain we gathered around a small fire-pit in the home for the evening meal. This farmer lived on less than one dollar per day to feed his whole family. And yet they fed us a feast of sorts. His wife roasted fresh coffee beans over the little fire. She then ground them up with a rough mortar and pestle and brewed some coffee for us in a small black stone pot. Meanwhile they prepared a stew of potatoes and some spices. The whole group of over 15 people including the farmers kids squeezed into this tiny space around a small fire and shared a very simple meal of potatoes. But it was a feast of a different kind. Through an interpreter we shared with each other stories about our lives. The differences were obviously dramatic. It was difficult to even describe our life in the U.S. to farmers who had lived high in the Ethiopian mountains their whole life. And we couldn’t fathom what their life was like even while we sitting right there in their home. But we laughed and found much in common. And the family taught us a beautiful Ethiopian tradition, called: giving gorsha.

            Traditional Ethiopian food is not eaten with a knife and fork. It is instead eaten by tearing off a piece of injera, a pancake like starch made from teff, a local grain, and then grabbing pieces of food from a communal dish with the injera and putting it straight into your mouth. Giving gorsha is the practice of using a piece of injera to pick up food and then instead of putting it in your own mouth you put it in someone else’s mouth. You directly feed someone else at the table. It is a sign of respect, of honor, of love to feed someone else. It is also an amazing way of bringing people together and is quite intimate. There is an Ethiopian saying that is translated in English as, “gorsha and love both strike fear." They both strike fear because they are hard to do and at their best they come in large quantities. When you give someone gorsha, you're supposed to stuff their mouth full. The bigger the feeding the more 'love' you are showing them. So we all sat around this dark little hut feeding each other a meal of potatoes while the rain poured down outside. The food wasn’t gourmet in the usual sense. It wasn’t expensive. There definitely weren’t eight courses. But yet it was truly a feast. It was an overwhelming experience. It is what I think of when I hear the words from Psalm 23 for today, “You prepare a table before me…”

            As this psalm has made clear throughout, life is full of challenges. It is full of pain and heartache. God doesn’t make our lives a long exotic vacation. The psalmist knows this full well. He or she has experienced some very dark valleys and faced some very real fears. But even in the midst of this the psalmist is able to affirm that God is present like a shepherd with his sheep. And God prepares a table for us. God invites us to an incredible banquet table where God is the host! The rest of the verse fleshes out what this feast looks like and what we experience at God’s table. There are three key elements to God’s meal: first, when we are invited to the table we are seated at a huge party. We join the biggest, most expansive party ever thrown. Second, even though this party is huge, each of us is honored as a special guest. And third, the feast is full of so much goodness it is overwhelming. We are given SO much by the host of the table. God is an incredible host. We are invited to experience an amazing feast at God’s table. But when we sit down at the table we are also challenged to live a more healthy, loving, and giving life in response. Each of the gifts of the table comes complete with a challenge. So let’s talk a little bit about these three parts of the verse:

            “You prepare a table before me…in the presence of my enemies.” “In the presence of my enemies.” What does that mean? The language of this psalm has been so eloquent and full of faith and profound truth. It is an amazing piece of poetry. But this phrase sound out of sync. It sounds vindictive and spiteful. “I get to eat an amazing feast that God gives me right in front of my enemies who have to watch while they go hungry and see how blessed I am.” It sounds like the dream of going back to your high school reunion and pulling up in a Ferrari with a beautiful spouse on your arm and gold dripping off your body. And then strolling in to find the people who made your life miserable in high school dressed poorly, out of shape, alone, and depressed. That is a very real feeling we might have but it doesn’t seem very becoming of an author of one of the most beloved pieces of biblical literature ever written. So what is this part all about?

            Well, on one level it affirms that even the psalmist is human. Even the author of this amazing piece has the same human feelings of vindictiveness that we all have on occasion. It affirms that our feelings are real and can be honestly expressed to God. But on another level it says something even more important about God’s table: God’s banquet is open to everyone. Everyone, even the people we don’t like, even the people who have hurt us, even the people we consider losers -- they are all are invited to the table along with us. Desmond Tutu has said, “God does not share our hatred no matter what the offense we have endured. We try to claim God for ourselves and for our cause, but God’s love is too great to be confined...” God’s table is expansive. It is huge. Not even the tallest, or widest trees in the world could be cut down to make a table big enough for God to host the feast. The whole world is invited to the feast. When we come to God’s table we join the biggest party ever thrown.

            This is an incredible image of joy and unity and love. But it is also a challenge. Because it is hard to sit at a table with people we don’t like, with people we don’t agree with, with people that have done wrong to us or our loved ones. When you sit at a table with someone you have to look them in the eye. If you want the salt you have to ask them directly, “Please pass me the salt.” And that requires letting go of our hatreds. It requires forgiving the people seated around us. It requires humility recognizing that we are not the only people at the table and that God loves the other people there as much as God loves us. It is hard to remain enemies when you share a meal together. And so when we join God’s table we are also asked to forgive and share the love God has given us with the others at the table. We are called to reach out our hand, get some delicious food from God’s feast and instead of putting it into our mouths – give gorsha by reaching out to the person we like the least and giving them a taste of God’s love. Someone once commented to Abraham Lincoln, “Surely, you should try to destroy your enemies.” Lincoln replied, “Am I not destroying my enemies when I make them my friends?”

            God’s table is open to everyone. Everyone at the table is an honored guest. Everyone is special. And that includes us. The verse continues, “you anoint my head with oil…” Anointing is an act of recognizing someone as special. It usually involves pouring oil on a person, often their head. The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines anoint as: 1: to smear or rub with oil or an oily substance 2 a: to apply oil to as a sacred rite especially for consecration b: to choose by or as if by divine election. The last definition is the strongest – to choose by divine election. Anointing signifies being chosen as special – often for an important task. Queen Elisabeth was anointed with oil when she was crowned queen of England many years ago. Jesus himself was anointed with expensive oil by an adoring woman. The word Messiah actually means, “anointed one.” And here in Psalm 23 the Lord anoints the writer with oil.

            At the Lord’s table we are marked as special. We are honored guests. Like my friend who put so much love into his cooking and the Ethiopian farmer who gave even in the midst of his own dire need – we are honored as special. Much of the time we don’t want to stand out too much. It is embarrassing to walk into class late and have the professor make note of your tardiness in front of everyone. It is awkward to show up at a party dressed in a tuxedo when everyone else is in jeans. It is uncomfortable to stand out too much. But all of us want to be known in some way as special. We want to be recognized as being worthy of love and having value. We like to watch the Olympics because they provide athletes an opportunity to stand above the crowd and receive a gold medal for their specialness. We watch award shows like the Oscars and reality shows like America Idol to see who is the best. Who is the most special. At God’s table we are all given a gold medal. We all arrive on the red carpet. We are each special, honored guests of God’s banquet.

            And we are also challenged to use our gifts for something. The honored guest at a party often makes a speech. In the same way each of us are called to live as honored guests in the world – we are challenged to do something with our special gifts and not just keep them to ourselves. If you are a good dancer – share that with the world. If you are a good listener – care for others with your ears and heart. If you are good at doing research – dig into the truth of what lies around us. Whatever makes you special – use it to make a difference in people’s lives.

            The third experience of sitting at God’s table is that God provides so many good things for us. “My cup overflows.” The cup isn’t half empty or half full. It isn’t even just full to the brim. It actually overflows – pouring goodness all over the table so that it runs off the edge and onto your lap and down onto the floor. God’s goodness is excessive. It is over the top. It is immense. Does that seem like a hollow statement to make? There is a lot of suffering. There is a lot that isn’t good with life. It often feels like God’s goodness is far from excessive. The psalmist knows this about life. The psalmist has gone through dark valleys. This statement – “my cup overflows” isn’t some Hallmark greeting card line covered with pictures of cakes, hearts, balloons or cute teddy bears. It is a statement of faith and an orientation towards God that has come OUT of the full experience of disappointment and difficulty that life brings. It comes from the recognition that everything we have is a gift from God. Even our very lives. The challenge of sitting at God’s table is to accept the overflowing cup with gratitude – even when all isn’t perfect.

            Sometimes when I come home from work Emma gives me a crayon drawing she has done during the day. She runs up to me and says, “Daddy, daddy, look at this! This is for you!” And I take the drawing from her and say, “Thank you, it is beautiful! Thank you!” Now we must be honest. The drawing is not going to make it into any museum. As amazing as it is for a three year old it is not fine art by an objective measure. If I were to judge it by what kind of art I would buy at a gallery I would be disappointed. By that standard I would have to say, “Well Emma, nice try but you should really use different colors or learn how to draw those shapes better.” But of course I don’t see it that way. I see it as an expression of love from my daughter. I don’t care what it looks like. I just care that she gave it to me. I respond with gratitude.

            Life is not always exactly what we want. It isn’t the picture we would have painted for ourselves. It is disappointing much of the time. But when looked at it from a different perspective it is beautiful. Life itself is a gift from a loving God. When we recognize that we are not entitled to anything then everything we have is a blessing. G. K. Chesterton has said, “Children are delighted when Santa puts toys or sweets into their stockings. Shall I not be grateful when he puts in my stockings the gift of two healthy legs?” Infant babies have to interact with the world in order to really learn how to see. If they don’t then the light that comes into their eyes is just that – light with no meaning. Our experience shapes the light that hits our retina into images that have meaning. In the same way, our perspective towards God shapes how we interpret the reality of our life. Circumstances might not change but the way we experience them can. Often we divide life into two categories, the things we are thankful for and the things we wish would be different. True gratitude is accepting and embracing all of life. My cup overflows. Not all of what is in my cup is perfect. But it is all a part of my life. My cup overflows – and for that I am grateful.

"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want" - Pastor Mark (sermon)

2007-09-16T23:42:00-05:00

This is the first sermon in a series on Psalm 23.

         Psalm 23 may be one of the most well know parts of the Bible. It is a little bit like the pledge of allegiance. People might not be able to recite it word for word without prompting but we recognize it when we hear it, many of us know some of the words and phrases and we might even be able to join along with a recitation of it. This week we begin our series looking at this well know passage from the Bible. We will explore some of the common interpretations and reflect on it’s prominence in our social consciousness. But hopefully we will also begin to see it in a new light and claim it as our own in a new way. Hopefully we will see it with fresh eyes and hear God’s voice to us anew through the 57 Hebrew words found in the middle our Bibles. But before I begin I want to take a minute for us to think about what we already bring to Psalm 23 by sharing with each other. Question: what do you think of when you hear the words of Psalm 23?

           Psalm 23 is probably the first passage from the Bible that I remember learning as a child. I almost feel like I have known the psalm my whole life. I think this is because when I was little I had Psalm 23 hanging up on my wall in my room. It was a smallish framed piece of paper containing the words, “The Lord is my Shepherd I shall not want…” and so on printed in a nice calm color – blue I think. The words were accompanied by a romantic picture of a shepherd holding a staff surrounded by sweet fluffy sheep. I think they may have even been kicking back on some grass on the bank of a babbling brook. While the details are fuzzy now what I do remember is that it conveyed a sense of peace and calm. And so Psalm 23 entered into my psyche from a young age.

            I have another memory of Psalm 23 from much later in my life. A few years ago as part of my training to become a pastor I served as a chaplain in a trauma hospital in New Jersey. It was my job to visit patients and families who were sick and dying and try to offer them comfort. It was a pretty terrifying job, especially at first. So at the advice of a friend of mine I bought this little book here – a pastor’s cheat sheet of sorts. It contains scripture verses and prayers appropriate to use in a hospital. I went through it and made notes on my favorite verses and put in little bookmarks so I could find passages while my hands were shaking as families waited for me to say something meaningful at a time of sorrow, worry and loss. Some of the bookmarks are still here.

            Before my first week in the hospital was up I was scheduled to be “on-call” for a 30 hour shift. This entailed carrying around a pager that would regularly emit a loud and high pitched sound alerting me to some crisis occurring in the hospital – a trauma, a code blue, a death, etc. I was expected to join the rush of doctors, nurses and orderlies running to the emergency room to deal with whatever horror was on the table at that moment. About halfway through my first shift I was startled away of my nice tasty hospital food dinner by the sound of the pager. I called the number that showed on its screen and was asked by a nurse to come to one of the units in the hospital. A man had just died and his family requested the presence of a chaplain. So I hurried up the elevators clutching my little blue book and hoping I would have some words to say to them.

            When I entered the room, there were about 6 people standing around in silence. On the bed lay an older man looking quite peaceful. I came in and introduced myself as the chaplain in the hospital at that time. In all honesty I wasn’t too thrilled to be in that position at that moment. We all just stood looking at the face of the man lying in the bed. I knew nothing about him. His family knew everything. So I asked them to tell me a little bit about him and they shared a few memories. It was clear that his death had been expected and the family was as ready as they could be for it – but that didn’t diminish their loss. They had just lost a father, brother, and grandfather. After a couple more minutes of silence it became clear to me that I should do or say something. So I opened my little blue book and began reading --- Psalm 23 – “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…”

            Why, in the face of loss, did I turn to Psalm 23? We were in a large urban hospital in central New Jersey – about as far away from sheep and shepherds as could be. What did those words have to offer the family gathered to say goodbye to a loved one? Psalm 23 is very commonly associated with funerals and death. Why is that? And does it only speak about dying and not about living? Before I suggest an answer to these questions let me give you a little background about this psalm that we are going to look at for the next few weeks.

            Psalm 23 is one of 150 Psalms, or songs or hymns they might be called in the collection that became the Book of Psalms. They are written in Hebrew over a wide time period well before the birth of Christ. They are poetic literature which speaks truth about God in a very different way from other kinds of literature such as narrative story or propositional theology. The Psalms include great heights of praise and joy and thanksgiving for God as well as dark depths of despair and loss. They are full of emotion and feeling and have the sense of coming from the gut. Like music they speak to us in a unique and powerful way. Many of the psalms are credited as being written by King David – the most well known king of Israel. Scholars disagree on exactly how many of them were in fact written by David. David was known as a musician so it is likely that he did compose at least some of the psalms. But many that are credited to him use language that is dramatically different from the language of his time. In the ancient world it was an honor to attribute a piece of writing to someone else who was revered. Rather than being considered dishonest work or plagiarism it was common for authors to write things in the name of someone else. In the case of Psalm 23 it is impossible to determine for sure if David wrote this beautiful piece. He was a shepherd, however, so it is certainly very possible, likely perhaps, that he crafted this piece that features God as shepherd.

            That background aside, it is the metaphor of God as shepherd that gives this psalm it framework, its handle, and its thrust. “The Lord is my Shepherd.” We do not see shepherds and sheep most of the time in our everyday lives – especially here in Madison, but shepherding was a well known vocation in the time of this psalm. Shepherds were responsible for the safety and provision of their sheep. They were responsible for keeping the sheep alive. Shepherding was a 24 hour a day, 7 days a week job. There was no moment when a shepherd could clock out or take a day off while the sheep just roamed the hillside by themselves. The shepherd had to be with the sheep at all times. The term shepherd was also known in the Ancient Near East to refer to human leaders: kings and other rulers were ideally shepherds of their people. The good ones took care of their kingdoms and looked out for the best for their people.

           So this is the guiding image of God in this psalm. That God is a shepherd for us. God is with us to care for us and look out for us. And not only us as a people or a human race or a world but us as individuals. The psalmist make the bold claim – The Lord is MY Shepherd. In the midst of all the sheep and all the other things going on around me God cares about this one sheep, me. The gospel writer Luke tells the story of a shepherd who cares so much about the one, individual lost sheep that he goes out of his way to find it, put it on his shoulders and carry it back to the flock. This is what God is like. God cares for each and every one of you so much that God will seek you out when you are lost. In the gospel of John we read the words of Jesus himself saying, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” One author has described Psalm 23 as a Hymn of Praise for Divine Diligence.

            This raises a difficult question, however, about God’s role in our lives and in the world. If God protects us like a shepherd protecting sheep how can such terrible things happen in the world? God doesn’t seem to be doing a very good job of protecting a lot of the time.

            This week was the 6^th anniversary of September 11^th. September 11^th was one of those tragedies that raises a lot of difficult questions. Where was God when planes hit the buildings? And when people jumped out of the windows 100 stories above the ground? What happened to God’s protection on that day? Todd Beamer, a passanger on flight 93, recited Psalm 23 on his cell phone with the emergency call center operator just before his plane went down in Pennsylvania. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…”
            September 11^th is one of those events that everyone remembers what they were doing when they heard the news. Erica and I had just moved to Princeton, New Jersey to begin seminary a few days before the attacks. We had, in fact, been in New York City on Saturday, September 8^th and had marveled at the twin towers against the skyline. The morning of September 11^th we left Princeton to drive 45 minutes south to Philadelphia to meet a pastor doing interesting work in the inner city. We were listening to music and didn’t have the radio on as we drove. We arrived in Philadelphia and went into the church looking for the pastor. He welcomed us and then took us straight over to a TV in their fellowship hall, muttering something about planes and the World Trade Center. We began watching the TV just as the 2^nd plane hit. We stood speechless in front of it for some time before finally going to the pastor’s house, a parsonage just next door to the church. There we watched live on TV as first one tower and then the second came crashing to the ground while the reporters struggled to even say the news while holding back their own sobs. One of the most vivid memories I have is of the pastor we were with repeating over and over again, “Oh, my God, Oh, my God, Oh my God.” We spent the rest of the day in the living room of this person we had just met watching the horror unfold while Philadelphia closed its downtown, and its train system and while we tried to get in touch with family members who were supposed to be on planes that morning and friends who lived just blocks from the towers in Manhattan.

            “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.”

            In many ways that gut level statement captures what Psalm 23 is all about. Those three simple words, “Oh – my – God” are a prayer, a plea, a cry for help. They ask, “Where is God right now?” What is going on? I am scared, I am lost. What the _____ is happening? But they are also a claim, a statement of truth, an affirmation, even a prayer of praise. Oh my God! Be with me Lord. I have nowhere else to turn. I cling on to you. I submit myself to you. You are my God. You are my shepherd. The Lord is my shepherd!

            Nowhere in Psalm 23 are we promised that life will not be difficult. In fact it is full of dark valleys. It is full of fear, disappointment and loss. The hillside we sheep are grazing on is covered with thorny bushes that will catch and entangle us and wolves that want to hunt and eat us. The psalm does not say that the Lord, the shepherd will remove all the darkness and difficulty out of our lives. It doesn’t say that all will be great and sunny skies. But what it does say is that the shepherd is with us. God is with us. The first verse and the last verse of Psalm 23 contain the familiar term for God – Yahweh. God is surrounding us on all sides. Before us and behind us. The affirmation of faith contained in this psalm is not blind. We don’t blindly believe in a God that works magic. Instead we must place radical trust in a God that is with us even in the midst of the darkness. The darkness remains but so does God – and God is there with us in it. Faith is not a magical elixir that will free us from all things bad. Faith is the radical trust that in the midst of life God is present with us. And we are not alone.

            One of our greatest fears is to be alone. Who wants to have zero friends on facebook? I experienced that this past week when I finally joined! … One of the hardest things about the death of a loved one is that we are left feeling alone. That reality is what led me to turn to Psalm 23 in the hospital while a family said goodbye to a father, brother, grandfather. Death makes us feel so alone. And that ultimately, is the hope and promise of Psalm 23. Not that we won’t have to face tragedy and loss but that when we do we are not in fact alone. God is with us. Like a shepherd with his sheep, God is present with us. God walks alongside of us. The Lord is our Shepherd.

            And then the verse continues…The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. So God’s presence with us means that we won’t want for anything? Does that mean we should expect to get a new I-phone in the mail tomorrow? Or to receive straight A’s in class? Or to date the perfect person and have the biggest house and drive the fastest car? I mean those are all things we might want… But there is a problem with our English when we take this verse to mean that. The word “want” in English can have different meanings. On one level it means “desire” as in, “I want a new car.” But it can also mean almost the opposite. It can mean lack. As in, I am found wanting. Or I am not found wanting. Or there is nothing that I lack. Perhaps if we hadn’t gotten so attached to the traditional translations of Psalm 23 our modern bibles would read more accurately, “The Lord is my shepherd, I lack for nothing. Or even, “The Lord is my Shepherd, what more shall I need.”

            That is a challenging question for us. What more do we need? Much, if not most, of what we think we need we do not in fact need. We live a lot of our lives seeking after more stuff, more money and more things. It may in fact be that if you don’t already have something then you really don’t need it. Last night at dinner our 3 year-old daughter Emma said something pretty remarkable for a child. She said, “When grammy comes to visit next week we should tell her not to bring any more presents. I already have so many toys. We won’t have anywhere to put more things.” I am not sure that she really means this but her words are very true. We already have a lot of toys. We confuse God with Santa Claus and make our prayers into a list of what we want. That is not what this psalm is about. While we are certainly free to express our needs and desires to God this psalm is not about getting what we want. It is instead an affirmation of what we already have. The rest of the psalm is a description of what it looks like to live under the care of the shepherd God and lack for nothing. It is a marvelous picture of a faithful God. It is also a challenge to us to submit ourselves to this shepherd. To trust and to follow God. To let the Good Shepherd lead and guide us. We may continue to have questions and struggle with doubts. We will certainly face sorrow and difficulty and dark valleys. But we are promised that we will not walk through those valleys alone. We will not be alone.

            About 10 years ago a story and picture was published in a number of widely circulated magazines about two twins. The twins had been born premature and at that time premature twins were separated immediately and placed into individual intensive care incubators. One of the two began struggling more and more with her health. Her heart rate slowed and her temperature began dropping. She was not expected to live. A nurse in the neo-natal ward decided to ignore hospital policy and placed the healthier twin inside the incubator with the sick little girl. Almost immediately the tiny little baby threw her arm around her struggling sister and snuggled up close. Very quickly the sister’s heart rate began to speed up and her temperature began to rise. With the presence of her sister by her side the struggling baby regained her strength and survived. After seeing the miraculous change hospitals began putting multiple birth babies together in incubators. Here is the picture they call the “Rescuing Hug”: http://hugsheal.blogspot.com/2007/11/recuing-hug.html

            If you can catch even a glimpse of it - God is throwing an arm around you. God is reaching out to you to give you new strength and new life. God is present in your space. The shepherd God doesn’t show up just at funerals but at all times in life. Perhaps you will feel God’s touch in a moment of silent reflection, in a song or piece of art, in some wonderous thing you are taught in class, in a sunset over the lake or in the embrace of a caring friend. So lay claim to the words of Psalm 23 – you are not alone, God is with you. Follow the Good Shepherd and let Him lead you through dark valleys and each of the moments of your life. Because we are not alone: The Lord is our Shepherd what more shall we need?”

"Them Dry Bones!" - Dedication Sunday, Pastor Erica (sermon)

2007-09-09T13:26:00-05:00

This sermon was preached at the Pres House Dedication. The text is Ezekiel 37:1-14.

About seven years ago, Mark and I made the fateful decision to enter into seminary. Having lived my entire life in the San Francisco Bay Area of California, I was inclined to pursue our theological education on the West Coast where the surroundings were familiar and family was close by. However, after months of thinking, talking, and praying, we made our choice to head to the East Coast for our degrees.

I very clearly remember the day we packed up our Honda Civic—Mark liked to refer to it as our trusty little steed. We loaded it up with all our belongings and waved goodbye to our families as we drove away. We made it about one block before we had to pull over because we were crying so hard. I felt especially unsure about leaving everything I had ever known without a clear assurance that we would be returning home. California was to me, the promise land! I wondered why I had decided to exile myself from the promise land to the far-off and strange state of New Jersey. Well, after pulling ourselves together, we continued on our way and as we collected miles in our trusty little steed, my sadness slowly dissipated and in its place sprang a growing excitement for what lay ahead.

We had planned to drive our way across the country, making it a two week road venture in which we would see as many great sites as we could. Our first stop was Yosemite where we bought our National Parks pass. We marveled at God’s beautiful creation, took some pictures, and then hopped back into our little steed to press on. That night we camped out beneath a beautiful mountain, enjoying the stars and a meal over a toasty fire. In the morning we folded up our tent, checked the map, and then hit the road again.

Our next National Park stop was quite different from Yosemite. After chugging up a steep incline, we pulled over to get a view of the valley that lay beneath us. This wasn’t just any valley, it was the infamous Death Valley. Numerous road signs warned us about the lack of any service stations, water, or help if we chose to make the descent into the valley. A barren and dry land with nothing but intense heat waves lay ahead, and the signs made clear that we continued on at our own risk.

I started having second thoughts about visiting this national landmark. When all the signs say danger, and the place itself has “death” in its name, it makes one pause. Mark was much more confident in our trusty little steed, and finally convinced me that we should just drive through the valley rather than take a much longer route around it. I reluctantly agreed, trying to push visions of an overheated engine out of my head.

So we made our long way down into the valley and then across the valley floor. I could hear our Honda start to work harder so we turned off the air conditioning to avoid overheating. The knot in my stomach grew tighter as I held my breath, worried that our little steed would not be able to make the climb back out of Death Valley. Suddenly Mark pulled over and turned the car off to which I promptly exclaimed, “What the heck are you doing?!”

Unlike my own very conscientious awareness of the risks that lay all around us, Mark was excited and seemed a bit clueless of the dangers which surrounded us. “Look at those salt flats and ground breaking up! I want to get a picture!” Before I could say anything, he was out of the car with the camera like a naïve tourist, wandering further and further away. I wisely stayed put in the car, panicking as I could feel the heat cooking my body like the proverbial frog in a pot of boiling water.

After what seemed an eternity, Mark finally got back in armed with his pictures, including one of me sitting in the car looking very cross. To my relief, our trusty little steed started with no problem and we continued on our journey away from Death Valley and its surrounding towns called Badwater and Furnace Creek. Both those names indicated to me that people who had spent any significant time in this area spoke from experience—this place was not somewhere you wanted to stay.

Today’s scripture reading from the prophet Ezekiel recalls a similar valley. About 2500 years ago the people of Israel lived in exile, far away from the promise land and scattered around the Babylonian region. Cut off from their ancestral roots and crushed by a foreign power, the Israelites had endured a long season of suffering and their outlook was pretty bleak. One could imagine that the women and men of Israel experienced such hardships in their exile that they named their new homes, Badwater and Furnace Creek. They no longer had any hope that things would change; they believed themselves to be cut off from the presence of God.

It is in this setting that Ezekiel receives a startling vision from God. The spirit of the Lord brings him to a valley that is full of bones. Not just a skeleton here and there, but a vast array of bones covering the whole area so that one cannot even see the land beneath them. The ghastliness is not in the blood and gore, because in fact there are no body parts to be seen. The real shock is actually in how clean the bones are, how dry the bones are. What the valley indicated was a multitude of people who had not only died, but who were left without a proper burial so that scavengers had picked them clean; then the relentless sun dried them up even more. This valley truly deserved the name, Death Valley.

God tells Ezekiel that these bones are the house of Israel. This vivid image illustrates how the people feel and what they believe about their situation: “Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.” After years of languishing in exile, the Israelites are depressed and have given into despair. They do not see any future and they have been sucked dry of any hopes and dreams that they will return to the promise land.

Even Ezekiel, a faithful prophet, has doubts about the situation. God asks him if the bones can live, and he responds somewhat dubiously, “O Lord God, you know…” But then something unexpected happens; God gives Ezekiel a command: “Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the LORD. ⁵Thus says the Lord GOD to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. ⁶I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the LORD.”

So Ezekiel speaks the prophesy and to his astonishment, a rattling begins and bones start flying together, followed quickly by sinews, flesh and skin. Before he knows it, God has conducted an elaborate and amazing symphony of human creation, right before his eyes. However, Ezekiel notices that there is something missing—there is an orchestra, but no music. God’s breath has not entered into these newly formed bodies.

And so the instructions come again for Ezekiel to prophesy, to call upon the breath to come into these empty bodies. The word here for breath is ruah, which can also be translated wind or spirit. The word ruah recalls to mind God’s creation of humankind in the book of Genesis when God breathes the breath of life into the nostrils of Adam. This ruah is what ultimately makes us in the image of God, what makes us truly alive. Without ruah, we are simply bodies without purpose—though we may be intricately composed and beautifully made, we lack the breath of God that brings us to vibrant and full life.

Ezekiel calls for this breath to enter into the newly formed bodies where formerly there lay only dry bones. Ruah renews the house of Israel, breathing new life and purpose into a people once cut off from any hope. With ruah, the people of Israel once again understand that they have been created to be in a covenant relationship with God; they are to worship God and live as a people who seek to follow God’s commands. In the words of the prophet Micah, they are to be a people who do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with their God. This is the promise which God gives to the house of Israel— “I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live.” With ruah, they will be saved from their exile and once again be the people of God.

Looking back upon my seminary years in New Jersey, I can say that there was a period of time in which I felt I had been exiled to a place called Badwater and Furnace Creek. The turmoil that comes with uprooting from a home, the confusion of new ideas and challenges to a familiar faith, and an uncertainty about God’s call in my life started to dry me up. At one time I experienced the reassuring presence of God in my life, but during seminary I started to feel like the spirit of God, the ruah, had left me. I was becoming a pile of dry bones.

Many of you know what it’s like to be far from home and trying to process through all sorts of strange, new circumstances. Perhaps you too have experienced a season of dryness in your life, a time in which you felt robbed of hope and cut off from God. From all appearances, you were convinced that nothing could change the situation and things were destined to remain the same. A lingering depression, a broken relationship, a growing sense that God was absent from your life. Or maybe you’ve left that valley of dry bones, but you still remain an empty body without breath. The good news that we are reminded of from the prophet Ezekiel is that God intends to bring us back to life. God desires to put ruah into us, to breathe God’s spirit into our nostrils so that we become fully alive. Those piles of bones will be transformed into a wondrous new creation with the promise of new hope.

            Today at Pres House, we are marking a significant milestone in its hundred year old existence. The founders of this ministry had many hopes and dreams for the students who would call this place home. From those aspirations, hard work went into creating a beautiful chapel which would reflect the glory of God. The building in which we currently sit was finished during the Great Depression, a major feat considering the economic hardship of the times. Amazing as it was, however, it was just an empty body until ruah, God’s spirit, entered in and gathered a student worshipping community committed to following after the Lord. Some of you present here can attest to the vibrancy of Pres House in the mid-twentieth century which produced thousands of faithful Christian leaders.
            Over the years Pres House has gone through many different stages, much as we do over the course of our lives. And there were times when it felt a bit like a valley of dry bones. The vision to create student housing was born in 1907, but it became a lost dream for many years as resources and funding began to wane. Not only did the hope for housing fade away, but this building began to dry out as years went by without sufficient funds to upkeep it. There came a critical moment, not too long ago, when the building was almost sold. It seemed that the life of Pres House was coming to an end and it would be left in Death Valley.
            But then something unexpected happened. Ezekiel’s vision of the dry bones grabbed the imagination of some faithful modern-day prophets, and people in the area started to hear some rattling noises. Though Ezekiel hesitated to answer God’s question, “Can these bones live,” an emerging belief formed about Pres House’s bones. So to the question, “Can these Pres House bones live?” came a growing response, “O Lord God, you know!” And so the dream of the Pres House Residence started to take solid form.
Like Ezekiel’s amazing vision, the rattling noises grew louder and louder. Bones came together, as dirt was moved, foundations poured, and steel beams were erected. Then sinews appeared as pipes, hardware, and walls were constructed. Flesh formed as drywall, carpet, and appliances were installed. Finally skin covered the body as bricks and stones completed a beautiful new building, the Pres House Residence.
            For those of you who were in Madison one year ago, you can attest to how the dry bones of Pres House have come together. Not just next door, but also in this building that we are sitting in. The physical transformation of Pres House has been remarkable, but that is not what’s most exciting. Though we are pleased with the elegant architecture, fine craftsmanship, and aesthetic beauty, what brings us the most joy is that new breath has been inhaled into the nostrils of Pres House. It is not simply a physical restoration, but rather a spiritual resurrection.
We are here today because ruah, the spirit of God, has entered in and given us a renewed hope and dream. From those piles of bones that marked the broken parts of our lives, God conducts a magnificent symphony that we have never heard before. We experience a bit of Holy Spirit CPR as we are resuscitated and provided changed hearts and fresh eyes to see the purposes of God. As we receive ruah, we are empowered to do bold things such as seeking justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with God. This is ultimately what Ezekiel’s vision of the valley of dry bones is about. God promises to put new breath in us so that we can live as we were intended to live—ruah filled in the image of God.
On this Dedication Sunday we have gathered to claim this truth not just in our individual lives, but also for Pres House. Our imaginations have once again been let loose as the Holy Spirit brings an excitement for what this place can be. Can you picture it? A home where broken people can come and find healing for their wounds. A space where students discover how their gifts and passions can be used by God. A place where men and women grow into faithful servants who bring food to the hungry, help to the poor, and hope for the suffering. There are so many possibilities—God’s vision is boundless!
It is our dream that this growing community will be shaped by ruah into a people of God who breathe new life into this campus and city. That Pres House will be a windy place as ruah blows through, bringing forth changed lived and a real hope for our world. In the end, it is this spirit that makes Pres House more than a building; ruah, the breath of God, is what brings Pres House to vibrant and true life. Thanks be to our amazing Creator! Amen.

Be Mine (Sermon) - M.E.

2007-02-11T22:36:00-05:00

I had to trick Erica into going on a date with me. Yes, I had to be kind of sly. Well she didn’t think it was that sly but it worked. We had been friends for a long time. We worked together at a kids’ day camp during the summer between our sophomore and junior years of college. We took a class together. We went to the same church. We drove down to Yosemite from Berkeley to hike up Half Dome with some friends. So we had gotten to know each other pretty well. And she was quite attractive to me in lots of ways. So as we entered our junior year of college I was spending more time with Erica – and spending more time thinking about her. We studied together which entailed dragging a pile of books to a café that remained closed while we talked for hours. But we were still just friends.

I began to realize that my feelings might be more than that when I started looking out for her coming out of class. That fall I worked early in the mornings in one of the humanities buildings. After work I had some time to kill before going to my first class. So I sometimes found a bench outside to lie down on and take a little nap (remember this was in California, not Wisconsin cold!). One day early in the semester I saw Erica coming out of the classroom building next to the bench I was lying on. She stopped to talk for a few minutes. After that I began going to the same bench each day so I would have a chance to see her for a few minutes before class. That was when I realized that my interest in her might be a little more than just friends.

As the semester wore on we found more excuses to spend time together: meeting for lunch on campus, taking hikes in the hills above the city, even skipping class (gasp!) to hang out on the grass on nice days. It was a wonderful time in our relationship – we were just friends but just being friends was good enough. It was exciting and fun to get to know each other and enjoy each other’s company. Eventually, however, it got to be obvious that we were spending an awful lot of time together. So I decided to take a gentle step towards something more. I tricked Erica into going on a date with me.

It started out innocently. I asked her to go to the beach one Friday afternoon. So we drove to the beach and had a good time just hanging out. Afterwards I suggested we drive into San Francisco for dinner. From the beach that was north of the city we had to drive over the Golden Gate Bridge to get into San Francisco. The toll for the bridge cost $3. I had left my wallet in the trunk so as we got to the toll Erica pulled out some money to pay. I apologized for not having the toll money and then I said, “Okay, well if you pay for the toll I will pay for dinner.” It was a pretty ridiculous trade off – not at all equal. A dinner for toll money?! But I wanted to test the waters and see if she was willing to let me pay for dinner. I figured if she would then she was okay with a “date-like” night. If she was absolutely opposed to dating me she would refuse my offer to pay.

There was silence for a minute. Then she said something like, “Well that isn’t much of a trade off but...okay.” So it was going somewhere. Sometimes the littlest things carry the most meaning. After a nice dinner we drove back over the Golden Gate Bridge and went up to a lookout point over the city. We didn’t kiss, we didn’t hold hands, we didn’t talk about dating but it was definitely our first “date”. The rest is obviously history!

So why am I telling you a long story about my romantic past when we are supposed to be talking about a covenant relationship with God? We are in the second week of a two part look at a covenant relationship with God. Last week we looked at self-assertion against God in the form of complaint and lament. As we saw in the book of Job a real relationship with God involves arguing, complaining, and questioning. But a real relationship also involves giving ourselves to God. So this week we are looking at self-abandonment to God, praise of God. Next week is the dating, marriage topic. Why bring dating up now? I bring it up for a basic reason. Self-abandonment to God is about love. We abandon ourselves to God because God loves us and we offer praise because of our love for God. It is about love. And one of my most formative experiences with love takes place in the context of my marriage. Profound love occurs in a variety of different relationships – marriage is not the only place. It just happens to be an experience that I can talk about. So though I am using the example of my relationship with Erica I am not really talking about dating or marriage specifically – I am talking about love.

For our scripture this week I have chosen two different passages about love. One you are probably very familiar with – it is written on cardboard at sporting events and may be the most memorized verse in American Christianity. The other passage comes from a book that you may not know even exists in the bible – Song of Songs, or Song of Solomon as it is sometimes called. Song of Songs is a love poem between two lovers. It doesn’t contain a single reference to God or anything religious at all. It is, however, full of very explicit sexual imagery. And it is about love.

So let’s hear the first verse. John 3:16

God loves us. This is a phrase that is thrown around all the time in church. It is kind of old hat – but it is truly an amazing statement. The God of the universe loves each simple, flawed, human being with an incredible love. A love that led to God going to great lengths to have a relationship with us by sending God’s own son to live among us and ultimately die on our behalf. God loves us. God loves you.

Valentines Day is on Wednesday. The day of love. The stores are full of cheesy cards. Florists do good business selling red roses. Even Starbucks is getting in on the action by selling Valentines chocolate. But what does it mean to love? What is love? What does it look like to love someone and be loved by someone? Song of Songs captures in its erotic imagery some of the truth about love, not only romantic love, but love of other kinds. Song of Songs is the only book in the Bible that is dominated by a female voice. The passage we are going to hear from it begins with the female talking about the one she loves. Then she reports his words to her before it ends with her voice again. It is full of nature imagery and pet names between lovers. Listen to the beautiful poetry of love. Song of Songs 2:8-17

I don’t really understand poetry very well, but like music it captures emotion in a way that other kinds of literature cannot. Song of Songs captures the richness and complexity of love. Love is complicated. It is exciting and mundane, passionate and committed, up and down, it requires self-assertion as well as self-abandonment. It is a relationship and relationships don’t conform to rules, expectations or plans. They happen. The speaker in this passage is clearly overwhelmed with her feelings about her lover. She is attracted to him. And not just physically – they have a deep emotional connection. She admires him. And the man is equally enamored by her. When he speaks to her he asks her to come away with him to some unknown place so they can be together. Because of their love he feels like it is spring all around – everything is bright and lively. They revel in each others’ love. There is something so empowering about being loved by another whether that be a spouse, a parent, a close friend, a sibling...or God. Human beings are created to be relational and we thrive on love. But it isn’t all straightforward. The passage ends with the woman telling her lover to leave her and return at another time. She puts off his request that they go away together – at least for the time being. Even as she is overwhelmed by his love there is some resistance to the full commitment the relationship requires.

I said that after my first date with Erica the rest was history. Obviously that isn’t really true. Life and relationship don’t work like they do in the movies where there is a five minute montage of exciting dates set to fun music followed by the couple having sex or moving in together or getting married. Happily ever after doesn’t just happen. Relationships are complex. Erica and I went through numerous ups and downs and changes to our relationship – and we still do. After our first date we kept seeing each other until one day I called her and asked her to come over to my apartment so we could talk about our relationship. We needed to have a DTR – we needed to define the relationship because it was getting weird to say we were friends when we spent so much time together. So Erica came over and proceeded to talk non-stop for about 3 hours preventing me from bringing up the subject. It wasn’t until after mid-night that we finally got to it. And it turned out that yes, we were interested in each other romantically. Duh. But we still resisted the idea of being attached. So we said we were “seeing each other” instead of dating. I don’t even really know what the distinction was but we felt it important. Of course after a few more weeks, more dates and our first kiss we began admitting that we were in fact dating. We were a couple. Over the next year and a half we had romantic dates as well as study dates. We were excited to make out and we learned how to do mundane things like shop for groceries together. We expressed deep admiration and love for each other and we had loud fights. It was complex. It was real.

One of the fun things I remember we did for each other was to leave notes on each other’s car. We would often park our cars in the church parking lot for various volunteer activities we did there. If I was walking home by the church and Erica’s car was in the parking lot I would jot a little love note on a receipt or napkin or slip of paper and slip it under the windshield wiper for her to find when she came out. She did the same for me. Even though we saw each other a lot it was fun to know that we were thinking about each other. It is nice to get love letters!

As our relationship progressed it became quickly obvious that being in love required something of us. We could not live the same way we had before we were together. We had to make room for the other in our lives. We had to give something up. And we wanted to. We wanted to be together. We were in love. But it did require something of us. It is a small example but both of us gave up our athletic pursuits because of our relationship. Erica was close to getting her black-belt in Tae-Kwon-Do which required many hours of practice each week. I was dabbling in bicycle racing with the cycling team. Between classes, work, and church we had to give up our time spent on sports to make time for each other. We also had to give up dating other people. It is kind of obvious I couldn’t go on a date with Erica and then go make out with another girl the next day. That just doesn’t work. There is such a thing as a good form of jealousy. Lovers want the full devotion, time and interest of their beloved.

The word “my” is used 9 times in the passage from Song of Songs. “My beloved, my love, my fair one, my dove.” The lovers make a claim on each other. They are possessive of each other. The woman says, “My beloved is mine and I am his.” I am my beloved’s and he is mine. They demand self-abandonment from the other. Not complete absorption of one into the other – there are still two distinct people – but self-abandonment. To love you have to give yourself to another. Do you remember those little candy hearts you ate as a kid (maybe you still eat!)? One of the little phrases printed on the sickly sweet hearts is “Be Mine” Be mine.

I wanted to be Erica’s and for her to be mine. I wanted to give myself to her and receive her self-abandonment to me. And yet it is scary. It is risky. It requires commitment. It requires letting go of walls and opening ourselves up to another. During our senior year we began talking about the possibility of getting married. I was sure it was the right thing to do and Erica wasn’t sure she was ready. So we spent a day by ourselves out in nature thinking and praying about getting married. She came back ready to get married – but I came back with some doubts. Needless to say she was mad! Eventually I got over it and we did get engaged, the best decision I have ever made! But the commitment of marriage – the covenant relationship -- is scary. It is risky. It is overwhelming.

I am going on again about my dating and marriage life in a sermon about covenant with God, but I am going somewhere with this. A covenant relationship with God is much like a relationship between lovers. We are in a love relationship with God. At least we can be sure God is in a love relationship with us. Like the lovers in Song of Songs God is in a love relationship with you. Imagine God leaving you a love note on your car, your bike, in your backpack or your mailbox. Perhaps it would read something like, “Arise my love, my fair one, and come away with me. I have loved you since before you were born. I know your joys and your fears. You are my beloved. Come away with me. You are mine and I want to be yours. Come away with me my beloved.” Imagine a love note from God. The feeling of excitement of getting such a note. Of knowing that you are loved unconditionally. Of walking into a difficult situation in your life knowing – “hey even if this is a disaster at least I am loved. If I fail this test. If I have trouble with my health. If I lose a friend. At least I am loved. I am still sad. I still hurt. I still worry. But I am loved. I am loved by God.”

God has left us a love note. The Bible is a love note from God. But more amazingly God sent us a speaking telegram. A healing telegram. A sacrificial telegram announcing God’s love for us. God sent his only Son Jesus Christ that we may have eternal life! God has sent us a love note in Jesus Christ. We may find it hard to hear or hard to believe but we are assured that God loves us. God loves you.

And so we are invited into a dynamic covenant relationship with God. God has abandoned Godself to us. God wants us to reciprocate in a covenant relationship. We are free to complain and argue just I complain and argue with Erica at times. We are free to say sorry when we make mistakes and to receive forgiveness. We are free to remain ourselves in relationship with God. But we are also free to give ourselves to God. To abandon ourselves to our lover. That is what it means to praise God. Edward Buri, a seminary student, put it this way, “you are God’s and God is yours, let your hearts find their pulse from this knowledge.”

We spend time with the things we love. I love bicycling. I still ride. But I was willing to give up some of my riding to be with someone I loved more – Erica. We give ourselves to the things we love. We think about the things we love. We spend time on the things we love. Love relationships involve abandoning ourselves. As we abandon ourselves to God we are compelled to show our love. Songs of praise roll off our lips and prayers of thanksgiving fill our hearts. Our covenant relationship with God is the basis of our ethical decisions and actions. We don’t always want to follow God’s commands in our lives. But ideally we follow God’s laws because we love the God who made them. We read the Bible and pray because we want to spend time with the one we love. We care for other people because God (whom we love) cares for other people. We sing songs of praise to God and come to worship because of the joy of the relationship. Our covenant relationship with God requires commitment and it demands responsibility from us, not out of guilt, but out of love. I wash the dishes at home, don’t go out with other women, and spend time with Erica because I love her. Not because I am forced to but because I am in a covenant relationship with her.

Song of Songs is a poem about the fullness of a love relationship. What would a poem about your relationship with God sound like? Is it full of the excitement of admiration and longing? Do you look out for God coming out of class like I did for Erica? Do you have a pet name for God? God invites you to run away together. Do you? Do you run away with your beloved – taking the plunge into the covenant that is so rich with ups and downs, fears and joys, responsibility and passion? Do you spend time with God? Do you abandon yourself? It may be hard for you to feel this way about God – that is natural. Thankfully you can usually catch a glimpse of John 3:16 while watching a football game and there is a poem expressing God’s love for us already written. The truth is this: God is yours and you are God’s – let that love relationship fill you with joy, guide your life, and overflow in praise! “You are God’s and God is yours, let your hearts find their pulse from this knowledge.”

_{Note: Edward Buri quoted in "The Search for Covenanted Selves: Considering Twentysomethings Postponing Commitments," by Katherine Wiebe, 2005.}

Good News for the Poor (Sermon) - M.E.

2007-01-21T20:32:00-05:00

Scripture: Luke 4:14-21

Last Monday was Martin Luther King Jr. day. The stock exchange was closed, no mail was delivered and many people had the day off work to mark the birthday of a man who gave his life fighting for justice. Three years ago Erica went into labor with Emma on January 14^th the day before Dr. King’s birthday. We had hoped she would have been born on the 15^th so she would have shared the birthday of a man we believe was a truly a gift from God to this country. Unfortunately Erica’s labor was very long and Emma wasn’t born until mid-day on January 16^th. But that has now become a very special day for our family also. The week around the 15^th and 16^th of January is always meaningful to me. It is a time when I stop and reflect on gifts. The gift of my beautiful daughter and the gift of a prophetic voice.

Martin Luther King Jr. day is important. It is important not only because it honors the life and death of a great man. It is important because it reminds us of his work and his cause. A cause that is just as relevant and critical today as it was in 1968. It is true that in large part because of the work of Dr. King great strides have been taken in race relations and civil rights since the 1960s. There is much more awareness of racism and many institutional forms of discrimination have been removed. Before 1967 Erica and I would not have been allowed to marry in many states. Interracial marriage was illegal. In 1967 the Supreme Court ruled that bans on interracial marriage were unconstitutional. But there is still a long way to go. It wasn’t until 1998, 9 years ago, that South Carolina voted to remove their ban on interracial marriage from the state constitution. Just nine years ago! Of course it was only symbolic but even so a whopping 22 percent of voters opposed removing the ban from the constitution! Racism and racial tension is alive and well in our country. We do not live in a color-blind society and the playing field is far from level.

Dr. Cornell West, an African-American professor at Princeton University (also known for his cameo in one of the Matrix movies) writes about some of his experiences of racism. He tells of being refused a taxi ride in New York City nine times when he was trying to get to the photo shoot for the cover of one of his bestselling books. The title? “Race Matters.” He had to give up and take the subway. When he first moved to Princeton he was stopped three times by police for driving too slowly on a residential street. Racism is alive and well. And it isn’t always white racism against black people (although that is unfortunately very common). Racism occurs across all lines. Erica can tell you numerous stories of horrible comments made to her by people of all kinds of races. Just this past month a Latino gang killed a black 14 year-old girl in Los Angeles because they were simply looking for a black person to shoot. The story in the New York Times described her as “an eighth grader who loved junk food and watched Court TV with her mother. She had recently written a poem beginning: “I am black and beautiful. I wonder how I will be living in the future.”” Two weeks ago a Hmong hunter was killed by a white hunter in the woods here in northern Wisconsin. He was married and had five children as young as three years old. Many think it was racially motivated. It could be connected to another racially charged hunting killing that took place two years ago in Minnesota when a Hmong hunter shot 6 white men after they yelled racial slurs at him. Racism is alive and well from urban LA to the woods of Wisconsin.

But our scripture today speaks a message of hope into the reality of our divided world. One of the things that is often forgotten about Martin Luther King Jr. is that he was not just an effective organizer and a powerful speaker – he was a minister, a preacher, a Christian. He did the things he did out of a strong faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ. He embodied many of the teachings of Jesus in his work for justice. He wasn’t perfect, far from it, but God used him to bring good news to those who needed it.

This passage from Luke is Jesus’ announcement of his ministry. The people are already familiar with him and his miracles but it is here that he announces his presence as one sent by God. He enters the synagogue and joins a participatory gathering of people. Jesus gets up to teach, to preach from the scriptures. The passage he chooses comes from Isaiah. It is a passage associated with the expected Messiah – the savior of the Jews. Jesus reads from the scroll a beautiful message of hope, a message of restoration that had been originally written while the Jews were in exile centuries earlier. After proclaiming hope and restoration Jesus sits down. The people wait for something more. Then he announces that this prophesy about the coming Messiah has been fulfilled in their very presence. He is the one spoken about in the prophesy. He is the one who has come to preach good news to the poor!

One of the striking things about the words Jesus speaks in announcing the beginning of his ministry is the marriage of physical and spiritual, words and actions together as a seamless whole. The “poor” who are given good news are the spiritually poor as well as the physically poor. They are anyone who is oppressed, downtrodden, disliked or abused. Anyone without food or money. Anyone incomplete or damaged. Anyone hurting or lonely. The blind are those who cannot see spiritual truth as well as those who cannot see their own sandals. Throughout the rest of the gospel Luke narrates stories of Jesus continuing to teach spiritual truth as well as actually healing physical bodies and feeding hungry stomachs. The message that Jesus preaches in the synagogue that day is an active message. It is more than simply saying some words but it involves the whole self – the whole self of the one sharing the good news and the whole self of the one receiving it.

So what do the people do after Jesus announces that he is there to bring good news to the poor? Look at the next few verses. Luke 4:22-30. At first those listening respond positively to his message. It is a wonderful proclamation of hope after all and many of the people listening probably saw themselves in the message. Perhaps they were thinking Jesus might bring them deliverance from the Romans. But they are mistaken about the full import of his message. They misunderstand for one, who Jesus is claiming to be. They know him as the son of Joseph when in fact he is the son of God. And they like the message when it is directed at them but they aren’t so thrilled when Jesus goes on to say that the message is for a much wider group than those in the synagogue. In fact, he predicts rightly that the people in his hometown will reject him. Jesus didn’t come especially for them but for the poor of all kinds. As they begin to understand that he is claiming to be the son of God come to offer good news to the world their praise turns into fear and anger and they set out to kill him. Jesus escapes this time but it is a foreshadowing of what will come later on the cross.

There is something so true about this reaction. We want freedom, success, happiness, wealth – for ourselves. And we talk about how we want it for others, even for everyone. But do we really? In many ways we resist a message of good news to the “other” poor. The people outside our circle. I think this happens for two reasons. First, if it doesn’t appear to be our problem we don’t think much about it. Why bother with something that isn’t bothering me? I live this everyday as a white man. I rarely have to think about race, especially my race. It is not often that I am a minority – usually only when I am with my in-laws sharing a Taiwanese meal. When I drive I don’t worry about being stopped because of the color of my skin. Even though I am a second generation American the same as Erica I am never asked, “Where are you from” the way she is all the time. I am not really worried about the government wiretapping my phone because my skin is white and my last name is English. I simply don’t think about race unless I choose to. But millions of other Americans do. Race is always present. You can’t walk away from the way you look. And you shouldn’t have to. Minorities live with racial tensions every day. Every single day.

The second reason we aren’t always so excited about good news for the poor is that is might cost us something. It might cost us some of our income in the form of taxes if we are going to help poor schools that don’t get funded by wealthy parents. It might cost us some time to learn about the needs of the poor and get involved in their lives. It might cost us our comfortable position of power and privilege in order to make room for others. I might have to learn Spanish and Chinese and not just assume everyone will do things the way I do them. Ultimately it might cost us our prejudices and stereotypes.

When I was a graduate student at seminary I helped organize a workshop for incoming students on race relations. Believe it or not racism was alive and well even at seminary. Part of this process involved working with leaders of the various ethnic students groups. One afternoon I had a meeting with the president of the African-American student association. I told him that as a white man in a position of privilege at the seminary I felt that I need to do something to help my brothers and sisters who were more marginalized by the administration and their fellow students. As a white person I could speak to other white people and get beyond their complaint that minorities were always playing the “race card.” My friend agreed that this was true and was glad that I was making the effort. But he also challenged me on a fundamental flaw in my thinking. He said, “Mark, racism on this campus affects you too.” It doesn’t just hurt me - racism hurts you. I was still operating as if it didn’t matter to me. Sure I was thinking about it. And in a small way I was willing to give something up to help. But I was still operating in an us/them paradigm. My friend flipped it on its head and showed me that racism costs me too. At seminary it cost me the opportunity to be taught African-American theology because there was a serious lack of it in the classroom. It cost me the chance to hear from students of other races in our discussion classes because other white students would dominate the conversation and marginalize the minorities. It hurt me because my friends, my fellow Christian brothers and sisters are hurt by racism. It hurt me too. Racism hurts all of us.

In the same way we cannot ignore the plight of the poor in our cities. When others suffer we end up suffering too even if we don’t realize it. Racism leads to poverty, poverty often breeds crime, and crime robs us of lives and endangers us all. Discriminatory police practices destroy whole groups of people by putting them in jail and the ripples effect reaches all of us. We are all connected. We are connected as God’s children and we are connected in life. The internet and global business demonstrate that. The nation of Somalia is in utter disrepair and abject poverty. There is no government to speak of. And it is a breeding ground for terrorism which will extend its reach all across the globe. We are all connected. So the good news for the poor is in fact good news for us all.

Jesus preached good news to the poor. His message was one of hope, restoration, and of ACTION. God brings about restoration ultimately. Not us. But we are invited to participate. We are invited to act and be ambassadors of the good news to the poor of all kinds. To each other in this community, to homeless, to hungry, to prisoners, to the lonely, to those who don’t know the love of God. We are invited to participate. In a minute Hansi and Jeremy are going to tell us about their move to Milwaukee to serve a community that has serious needs and to be ambassadors of the good news. Over on the table by the door you will see applications for the Spring Break - Break with a Purpose mission trip. We will be going to inner city Chicago to learn about the needs of the poor, develop relationships with people of different racial backgrounds, and offer our selves as God’s servants. It might cost you your spring break and a few dollars but it is worth it because the poverty of people in Chicago is your poverty too.

I like Martin Luther King Jr. day because it is a reminder. It is a challenge. Dr. King was an ambassador of God’s good news to the poor. In 1968, just a few months before his assassination, he preached a sermon called Drum Major Instinct. At the end of the sermon he reflected on his own funeral. He said this, “If any of you are around when I have to meet my day, I don’t want a long funeral...Tell them not to mention that I have a Nobel Peace Prize, that isn’t important. Tell them not to mention that I have three or four hundred other awards, that’s not important. I’d like somebody to mention that day, that Martin Luther King Jr. gave his life serving others...that I tried to love somebody. I want you to say that day, that I tried to be right on the war question...that I did try to feed the hungry...that I did try...to clothe those who were naked. I want you to say, on that day, that I did try to visit those who were in prison. I want you to say that I tried to love and serve humanity...If I can do my duty as a Christian ought, if I can bring salvation to a world once wrought, if I can spread the message as the master taught, then my living will not be in vain.” --- My living will not be in vain. Amen.

Martin Luther King Jr. quote is from "A Testament of Hope," edited by James Washington, 1986, Harper Collins, NY.

Leap for Joy (Sermon) - M.E.

2006-12-17T19:21:00-05:00

This is the fourth advent sermon based on the scripture passage Luke 1:39-45.

I have gained a new appreciation for the Christmas story since having a child of my own. Emma was born in mid-January so the Christmas before her birthday Erica and I were waiting expectantly like Mary and Joseph for a baby to come. Now that we are expecting our second child I am thinking about this again as Christmas roles around. Especially this week. On Wednesday this past week we got to see our second child – a little girl – on the ultrasound! It is incredible what you can see with ultrasounds – they are even better than a few years ago when Emma was born. At one point the ultrasound technician commented that the baby looked like she was doing aerobics because she was moving her legs and arms so much.

I wonder what Elizabeth would have seen if she could have witnessed her baby, John the Baptist, leap for joy in her womb. What does a leap for joy look like? In the womb? It would have been pretty fun to watch on the monitor! That image in this passage is so striking – when Mary comes to greet her relative Elizabeth, Elizabeth’s baby leaps for joy in her womb. He leaps because Mary is also pregnant. Pregnant with the baby Jesus – the coming Messiah, the Lord, God entering the world as a human baby.

I don’t know what it is like to feel a baby inside my body and I never will. But I do know that seeing the ultrasound is pretty exciting! It was a joyful moment. I was high all day on Wednesday after we had been to the hospital to see it. And the whole process of having a child is joyful. Hard, exhausting, often frustrating – but incredibly joyful. Often when I go to pick up Emma at her daycare provider she greets me with the most amazing smile. She sees me and says, “Daddy!” as if she couldn’t imagine anything she would want more than to see me at that moment. There is absolutely nothing better in the world then the feeling of being her dad. Or when I come home from work and I can hear her yelling down the stairs for me before I even get in from the garage. There is nothing better in the world than being loved by my daughter. It is truly joyful. And a special gift.

As I reflected on this passage I wondered to myself – What is joy? What does it mean to leap for joy? I know the feeling of joy when I hug my daughter. But what about when she yells and screams at me and tells me to go away? I know the feeling of joy when I am caught of guard by a powerful piece of music or a moving story on NPR. But what about the constant news of death in Iraq? I know the feeling of joy when I am out hiking in the woods and the air is fresh, the birds chirping and the views amazing. But what about the fact that miles of forest are destroyed by the minute and species go extinct each day? Can there be joy in the midst of sorrow? Can there be joy in the midst of tragedy? Can there actually be joy in the world?

What is joy? Is it the excitement of getting a new I-pod for Christmas? Is it the pride of receiving an A on a paper? These things are nice but they are more about happiness or pleasure – not always true joy. Joy is deeper than happiness. It is more meaningful than pleasure. It is not something that we create or bring about. We can buy a new toy to feel happy or enjoy the pleasure of a good meal. Joy might be found in those things, but if it is it will be outside of our control. It springs up unexpectedly. It takes us over in a wave of surprise. It is a passing moment. A feeling that is so hard to describe. Like walking along lakeshore path and catching the sunset in an indescribable moment. Or hearing a poem that brings tears to your eyes. It is rooted in something beyond just the physical. I remember hearing a song when I was a kid that said something like, “Joy is not in how things go. Joy is in the hope and truth we know.” Cheesy but true. Joy is not related to the ups and downs of everyday life. To the things we have, the things we do, the things that we create. It transcends a good day and hopefully even a bad day. Joy is a gift. A gift from God.

A moment of joy might take the form of a hug. A smile. A memory. A reaction to music or art. Just lying in bed in the dark. It might pop up anywhere. Perhaps just for a fleeting moment. The passage we heard today from the gospel of Luke describes joy as emanating from God entering the world as a baby. Mary, the pregnant mother of Jesus, has come to visit Elisabeth. This story is only found in Luke – the other gospels do not include it. Mary was told by the angel Gabriel that she will bear a son – a very special child. Gabriel also tells her that Elizabeth is 6 months pregnant which is amazing since Elizabeth was quite old and had been barren her whole life. So Mary rushes to visit Elizabeth. She makes the journey of 70 miles by herself. It would have been highly unusual for a young, pregnant woman to go on such a journey unaccompanied. When she greets Elizabeth the baby leaps at the greeting. Twice in just a few short verses Luke notes that the baby leapt for joy when his mother was greeted by Mary. Elizabeth is surprised by the visit and surprised by joy.

Elizabeth proclaims that Mary is blessed and speaks of Mary’s baby as “her Lord” This is an incredible statement to make: a wizened old woman calling an unborn infant her Lord. After this proclamation of blessing from Elizabeth Mary sings a song of joy. Two women together. Two babies. All filled with indescribable joy.

Mary sings what is known as the Magnificat:
⁴⁶ And Mary said, "My soul magnifies the Lord,
⁴⁷ and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
⁴⁸ for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
⁴⁹ for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.
⁵⁰ His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation.
⁵¹ He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
⁵² He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly;
⁵³ he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.
⁵⁴ He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy,
⁵⁵ according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever."

Mary sings a song of joy about God. About who God is – a God that is holy, merciful and strong. A God who reverses social order and takes care of the downtrodden. A God who keeps promises. She sings a song of joy about who God is and who God will always be. This is more than a song of thanksgiving. It is more than her thanking God for giving her nice things or even for giving her a son. It is more than her just thanking God for what God has done – she thanks God for who God is, God’s very character. This is a song of adoration. A song of joy – praising God for who God is. Holy, merciful, strong and faithful. In fact, she might not even be that thankful that she will bear a son. She is not married and will be the disgrace of the town for having a child. Her life is more complicated than before. Much more complicated. It isn’t happy and easygoing. But it is joyful. She has been surprised by joy.

For that moment at least Mary and Elizabeth – and baby John – embrace the joy that has overcome them. The joy that has been given to them. But they didn’t receive it immediately. When Gabriel came to Mary to tell her the incredible news that she was going to be the mother of the Messiah, Mary was first perplexed, then incredulous and disbelieving before she finally embraced the message. When Mary first arrives at Elizabeth’s house Elizabeth questions why such a special blessing was given to her. Why is the Lord, God, present in her very house? Why does she deserve such a gift? They resisted the gift of joy because they felt undeserving. Yet it was given to them nonetheless.

It is appropriate for us to recognize the vast gap between us and God and to see that we are not deserving of God’s gifts simply on our own merit. But like Elizabeth and Mary we resist joy. We resist what God sends to us, what God gives to us. We strive for happiness – we seek fulfillment in material possessions, assurance in our accomplishments and companionship through relationships. But no matter how much we seek these things there is always doubt in our minds. There is always fear. Loneliness. And Self-doubt. We do not think we deserve joy. We don’t think we are worthy or valuable enough to receive it. Elizabeth had just been blessed with a child in her old age – a gift that could only have come from God. Yet she still questions her worthiness to receive the joy of Mary’s baby. We are fragile, lonely, worried people feeling unworthy to receive joy.

And yet it breaks into our lives anyways. God sees us as worthy. God sees us as valuable, lovable, worth caring for. On Christmas day 2000 years ago God deemed us so valuable God became one of us. God joined us in our fragile state and broke into our world bringing joy. Joy has entered our world. And it pops up in our lives. Even if we resist it. Even in the middle of sorrow and pain. Even when we feel rejected. Even as wars rage and forests burn. Joy breaks in. It surprises us. Joy showed up in Elizabeth and Mary’s bodies. Joy knocked on Elizabeth’s door. God came into their messy lives and brought joy. Christ’s birth was not simple – away from family, surrounded by animals, under the threat of being killed by King Herod. It was messy but joy broke in. And for a moment it overcame doubt and fear. And so John leaped. John leaped in his mother’s womb.

Erica and I just received the magazine our seminary publishes each quarter for alumni. It contains an article about art and faith. One of the pieces of art caught my attention. Art has a way of describing experiences and meaning in ways that words simply cannot convey. I went on the internet and found the piece that caught my eye. It is a painting by Vincent van Gogh called, “Prisoners Exercising”. At first glance it appears to be a group of people pacing around in circle surrounded by tall prison walls. They are weighed down by the condition of their lives and the walls around them. But if you look very closely – hard to do on this screen – you will catch a glimpse of a butterfly flying high over their heads. A glimpse of a tiny, beautiful lively butterfly present as they walk with heads hung low. This image strikes me as capturing the concept of joy far more effectively than my sermon today. Joy is like a butterfly that flits down into our lives – sometimes when we least expect it.

As we go through life we find it hard to see beyond the next step in front of us. We do not feel worthy of God’s love and acceptance. We sometimes even ourselves build the walls around us. But we might catch a glimpse of a butterfly. Even in the midst of deep pain we might catch a glimpse of a butterfly flitting in and around the paces we take. In death there are moments of family healing. In difficulty there are moments of learning. In sorrow there are moments of laughter. In uncertainty or fear there are moments of hope – hope in the promise of God. There are glimpses of butterflies.

But butterflies are erratic. They come and go as they please. They are difficult to chase and sometimes we get just a quick look at them. C.S. Lewis talks about the desire to experience joy again and again but the elusive nature of that experience. He says, “To get (Joy) again became my constant endeavor; while reading every poem, hearing every piece of music, going for every walk, I stood anxious sentinel at my own mind to watch whether the blessed moment was beginning and to endeavor to retain it if it did. [Sometimes] I tasted Joy. But far more often I frightened it away by my greedy impatience to snare it, and, even when it came, instantly destroyed it by introspection...” In trying to control it and make it happen, Lewis found that he ended up destroying it.

In that way too joy is like a butterfly. You cannot capture a butterfly easily. If you hold onto one too tightly you will kill it. You cannot predict when it will come or go. You can only enjoy it for the moment it is present.
Yet we look out into the field to see the butterfly again. We want to experience the indescribable feeling of true joy again and again. We long for it to fill our lives. Because joy connects to something beyond this world. It is a glimpse of heaven. Of God’s enormous love and acceptance of us. Lewis describes joy as an “unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction.” It is a desire that cannot be fulfilled by any action on our part or anything we control. Joy is elusive because it is a glimpse of what we long for beyond this world. No presents, no grades, no acclaim, no girlfriends or boyfriends, none of these things bring the fullness of God’s joy into our lives. They are wonderful pleasures for sure. But true moments of joy are the taste of God’s love, grace, and acceptance. Tastes of heaven. That taste of heaven is what Christmas is all about – the moment in history when God entered our world. When a tiny baby brought hope and a promise of new life to all people. That is the joy of Christmas!