The Point of Giving, a sermon

(This sermon is available in audio format - Click here.)

A number of you in my first year here have sat down with me and gone over your funeral plans.  I know that someone other than myself was the one to prompt you to do so, but I appreciate that you are taking the initiative.  It shows you care about how you will be remembered, and you are providing a role model to others.  Far too many people leave such things to their grieving loved ones.  What sort of decisions are they going to make on our behalf, at a time when they are so full of stress and pain!

I was listening recently to the NPR program, Marketplace Money with Tess Vigeland, who was interviewing Linda Stern, a financial correspondent for Reuters who recently penned an article entitled, “Lessons from my mother’s money.”  Vigeland and Stern offered the advice to listeners to get one’s affairs in order, make sure that papers are ready, providing details to others for what to do in case you have a devastating illness or die, and bank accounts that someone you trust might use in order for your needs to be met while you are incapacitated.

Another portion of the show included Tess and economic editor Chris Farrell were offering advice to a listener who was mired in credit card debt... eighty-five thousand dollars worth.  The listener did not begin by announcing the hole he was in.  He simply admitted that he and his wife were in a hole, paying more than their monthly minimum on their cards, but that the credit card companies had bumped their annual percentage rates to nineteen percent and above, and now they were challenged to pay even the minimum anymore.

Tess and Chris expressed her concern and offered the twofold suggestion that the debtor – any debtor – should examine whether or not they could pay off their debt in about five years or less, and that if not, they might want to consider bankruptcy.

No matter what, they strongly suggested, the couple should look into credit counseling and see whether their counselor might work out a deal with the credit-issuing banks in order to expedite the payoff of the debt.

The point of Marketplace Money that day was the point of that program every time it airs, and the point of so many other, competent, personal finance radio and TV programs:

• Do not render yourself a victim.  
• Or, if either someone else or you yourself have managed to make a victim out of you, then work to turn the tables.

Now, I know I say "work to turn the tables" at the risk of sounding like someone pitching the plot of the next Bruce Willis movie.  When I say, “turn the tables,” I don’t mean revenge.  I mean self-improvement. 

And – tough as it may be for many of us to hear – self-improvement, self-reliance, is the point of just about the entire platforms, of the Republican Party, the Libertarian Party, and many populist movements.  With political rhetoric sounding the way it is in the country, lately, we can sometimes forget the fundamental and genuinely good, affirmative bases on which certain groups were built.

That anti-victimhood message is also, incidentally, the same point of every twelve-step program in existence – to recognize that you’ve fallen BUT THAT YOU CAN GET UP!  It’s the reason for counseling and spiritual direction and psychoanalysis – to discover the patterns that we have inherited or come to practice, and to DEVELOP NEW, HEALTHY PATTERNS.  It’s why it’s so important for us to learn to eat healthily, to exercise regularly.

We cannot afford to be victims.  No one can afford to be a victim. 

I don’t even refer to people with cancer or HIV or any other debilitating illness they’re trying to shake as victims, if I can avoid it.  You see, victims are eventually overwhelmed by their circumstances.  Victims suffer or die at the hands of others who are out to get them.  And to say that cancer or HIV or any other debilitating illness should create a victim implies that the disease has a personality, the way ancient people used to speak of demons.

Granted, our circumstances may seem overwhelming at times, but it is absurd ever to speak of Christians as defeated.  It is contradictory to speak of Christians as victims.  To a person, in the case of every disciple, we may have been knocked down, but we’re getting up.

This is the point of the gospel... the good news.  Is.  That one whom we had assumed to be a victim was actually the victor.  And so it is for us.

So, the point of giving, for Jesus, is that the ability to give implies agency; it implies power.  The point of giving is to demonstrate that we are not poor, no matter how bleak our situation may appear. 

By giving, the oppressed person can assert that he or she is no longer beset by circumstances.  By giving, the outcast may announce that she or he cannot be marginalized.  By giving and giving and giving again, with full knowledge that what they do may not budge those who seek to ignore them, the weak become strong; the broken attain wholeness; the empty are filled by the abundance of God.

We can do as we do, because we can afford to.  Nothing shall be impossible for God, and therefore everything shall be affordable for us.

Somebody might take that wrong, and think that I am saying we should all live opulent lifestyles.  I’m not.  In fact, the argument is for a simpler lifestyle whose basis is generosity.  Look at all Christ says we can afford:

(From Luke 6) 27 Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, 28 bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.  29 If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt.  30 Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again.  31 Do to others as you would have them do to you.
      34 But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return.  36 Be merciful, just as your Abba is merciful.
      37/38 Do not judge, do not condemn; forgive, and give; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.

This is the reason why, this time of year, the Stewardship Committee and I remind us of what may be possible – the step up, the approach to, or the achievement of, the tithe.

The point of giving is to liberate the disciple from the captivity of victimhood.  You cannot believe in Jesus Christ, you cannot find healing in his name, you cannot believe the testimony of the empty tomb, and still imagine yourself a victim!

This is the point of giving, says Jesus.  This giving is the action that makes the good news authentic.  This is the way we turn the tables on our victimhood.  This is the way we turn things around.

The world economy is pathetic right now.  Worse than that, it’s scary.  Millions of people are in debt; the governments of many countries are on the brink of default; this is the worst economic slump since the Great Depression.  It’s making victims of a lot of people.
 
But that economy is not our economy.  That economy is market-based.  Our economy is God-based.  And God has enabled us to step out from the tombs which once held us captive.  We can step up, as our Stewardship Committee representative here has encouraged, and let our giving be a measure of our faith. 

Maybe it’s not yet the measure we would have it be.  We may have spent differently, invested differently, because of choices we made based on that market economy.  That will monetarily effect how we participate in God’s economy.

Things change, though.  That’s why we’re here in the church, isn't it.  Because things change.  Even for the better, things change.  Things have changed for us, and we know we can count on things to keep right on changing.

The point of giving and giving and giving endlessly, the way our Abba does it, is so that we may count ourselves blessed – not victims but victors – and know that we will give as we will, because we can afford to. 

God has made giving affordable for us.  Indeed, we have nothing to lose, based in God’s system.  Nothing shall be impossible for God, and therefore everything shall be affordable for us.
Thanks be to God.  Amen.

Remembering "Peace Be Upon You!' - September 11, 2011

Our Peace Be Upon You! event on September 11 may not have been profoundly noticed in the press, but its impact on the wider interfaith community has been recognized in a number of settings. 

Publicity and posters were distributed throughout the St. Louis area, to churches and other faith-based groups and organizations, and leaders of numerous communities have expressed their regret that they were unable to attend.  However, there were a lot of activities scheduled for the day by a number of different institutions, organizations, and faith communities.  In addition to our own event on the tenth annual observance, there were two major sports events occurring, a community remembrance service sponsored by Gerber Chapel, and, scheduled at the same time, concerts at Webster University and Sheldon Auditorium and a United Way day of service attended by numerous members of the St. Louis Muslim community.

So, attendance at afternoon workshops stood at about 40, including presenters and the participants in their opportunities for children, youth, young adults, and adults. 

Children explored the ideas of kindness, cooperation, and peace with First Congregational Director of Religious Education Tracey Harris.  Youth heard from representatives of Cultural Leadership, a program for African American and Jewish students in our area to unite them on the common ground of Civil Rights.  Young adults and I considered the commonalities and differences of Christianity and Islam.  And keynote speaker Dr. Khaled Abdel-Hamid, a popular Islamic lay leader in the St. Louis area who is well-versed in Qur’anic studies, shared with adults his insights on current events and Islam.

For the keynote address, entitled “Peace Be Upon You!” and attended by about twice as many people as the afternoon’s workshops, Dr. Hamid walked listeners through passages from the Qur’an which encourage cooperation and understanding especially between the Abrahamic “people of the Book” who practice the faiths of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.  He sought to offer hope for a more enlightened culture, like that of 10th to 14th Century Spain, for which so many moderate and liberal Muslims are nostalgic.  During that period in history, the Moors – a North African Islamic people – ruled Spain and permitted religious freedom and citizenship for Jews and Christians.

The time for questions included an objector of Egyptian origin, like Dr. Hamid, who challenged the speaker’s interpretation of the Qur’an, which in its second chapter allows destruction of nonbelievers and is used often by oppressive Islamic governments to practice cruelty against non-Muslims.  The objector, who may have been a Coptic Christian remembering persecutions in the land of his birth, refused to assent to Dr. Hamid’s sympathies that attacks on Christians and Jews by Muslims are criminal even according to the Qur’an.  But he also raised the awareness of the group about just how polarizing the malpractice of religion can make the oppressed as well as their oppressors.

In a more relaxed conversation after the conclusion of the event, Dr. Hamid noted that, if the objector was in fact a Coptic Christian refugee from Egypt, then the two of them had much more in common than they had separating them.  “I came to America,” he said, “because of the way I saw my religion being misinterpreted and misused in my homeland.  I prefer to be the citizen of a country where religious freedom may be practiced by all, rather than religious tyranny practiced by a some.”  (Some participants believed that they had heard the man say he was a convert from Islam to Christianity, which, if his conversion happened while he lived in Egypt, would have made him even more likely a victim of persecution than had he been born into a Christian family.)

Concluding the event, I observed that I am disinclined to continue Peace Be Upon You! as a September 11 observance.  I then referred to a community service event sponsored by the United Way on September 11, and populated strongly that day by supporters of the St. Louis chapter of the Council on American Islamic Relations (CAIR).  I suggested that September 11 might more suitably become a day of service similar to the Martin Luther King, Jr., holiday in January, and urged First Congregational and other Christian communities to partner with CAIR and Jewish community service groups on both those days, for the sake of bridging interreligious divides.

Peace Be Upon You! as an annual discussion about interfaith concerns for peace and justice may continue, hosted by our church, but maybe we can find a less potent day.

The text of Dr. Hamid’s keynote address is available from the media table in the Narthex or by clicking here.  A copy of his English and Arabic parallels of the second chapter of the Qur’an, are also available for download here.

"O Beautiful" (sermon, May 29, 2011)

This weekend is the prelude to Memorial Day, or formerly Decoration Day – an occasion for the solemn recognition of the gifts and sacrifices of those who died in service to their country, or of veterans who died after their service. You probably know that the holiday was instituted, for the recognition of service by Civil War veterans, from a grateful people.

First Congregational Church of Webster Groves has their share of people to be remembered on this day...

Everett R. Belt, Jr.

Thomas Harkey

William K. Holaday

Ted Meyer

Wesley Perkins

Glenn Loren Moller, Jr

There is just at this moment a certain temptation to sing, "Onward, Christian Soldiers," as was done rather often, from the late 1800s until about thirty years ago, very often on the Memorial Day holiday. But the song isn’t about soldiers, really – at least not in the customary earthly sense of the word.

Most mainline clergy nowadays find the martial imagery of the hymn grossly distasteful. The notion of "Christ the royal Master [leading] against the foe" with any armament of death-dealing is an offense to most of our sensibilities. As a result you won’t find it in any mainline Christian hymnal published since 1985.

The song is both more and less than what most people imagine it to be. It was written in one night by a schoolmaster, Sabine Baring-Gould (later, Rev. Baring-Gould), in Wakefield, Yorkshire, England, in 1865 as a new marching song for the boys of his school to sing in a parade. The tune to which it was originally sung – a melody of Haydn’s – is not the one which we associate it with. "St. Gertrude," the tune to which we sing it, was composed by Sir Arthur Sullivan – yes, of Gilbert and Sullivan!

And though the lyrics may resonate with the ironic armor imagery found in works of the apostle Paul and others regarding the strength and the fortitude we discover by the grace of the Holy Spirit’s presence in our lives, the fact that we would sing it on a day when we are speaking of real soldiers makes for some very dicey stuff.

The whole point of Paul referring to "the whole armor of God" is the thickness of his irony, as here in Ephesians 6. The apostle surely meant to indicate that the power of having God in one’s life should so thoroughly enliven one’s spiritual well-being that the very instruments being used by the Romans to oppress and persecute Christians should remind the faithful of their own inner strength.

Such fortitude is especially necessary for some, through the challenges they face just by being different. Christians on the margins tend to have a taste of what it might have been like for all Christians in the First Century. (I wonder whether the recipients of the words of Psalm 144 and Ephesians 6 would have read or heard both those passages and taken them with the grain of salt that most of us do. Or would they have found comfort? It’s hard to say.)

But what is easy to say is that the conditions of persecution persist, and those of us who do wear "the whole armor of God" have an obligation to defend the plight of the downtrodden, and to expose what formerly had been hidden – especially when it reflects profoundly well on individuals from oppressed groups. And so, that is what I am about to do with you now: to expose what formerly had been hidden.

Are you ready for this? Because I am obligated by my commitment to the liberation we may all come to know through Jesus Christ, to help to liberate the oppressed.

Surely all of us have sung the familiar song, "America the Beautiful." In 1931 it was in contention with "The Star-Spangled Banner" for adoption as the national anthem. It lost out, but not for anyone’s lack of love for it.

"America the Beautiful" has a story that goes with it which few people know. You may have heard some of the story, namely, that its writer composed it during a visit to Pike’s Peak. The rest of the story is not only interesting but, actually affirms the different-ness that has existed among the American people for some time and now is finally beginning to be celebrated.

Katherine Lee Bates was author of the poem, "America the Beautiful." She was the daughter of a Congregationalist minister. When she penned it, Ms. Bates also was a professor of English at Wellesley College in Massachusetts – a school for women.

She was unmarried, but Dr. Bates did live in a relationship that, for historians, is somewhat enigmatic. There are powerful indications of what the relationship was like – very loving letters between herself and another professor at Wellesley, and a book of poems Dr. Bates wrote upon her companion’s death.

For twenty-five years Katherine Lee Bates lived with Dr. Katharine Coman, from 1890 until 1915 when Dr. Coman died. Dr. Coman was the founder and chair of Wellesley’s Department of Economics.

There were other such relationships during the time which have not escaped the notice of history. They were called, "Boston marriages." In a Boston marriage, two career women chose to live together rather than to become wives and mothers. There is some argument about whether these were indeed lesbian relationships, but the commitment of the participants invariably bore a marked resemblance to the cohabiting we see now between same-sex partners who unabashedly confess to the nature of their relationship.

The foremost among Boston marriages was probably that of Frances Willard, founder of the Women’s Christian Temperance Union, and her twenty-two-year companion, Anna Gordon. But Jane Addams and Mary Rozet Smith, who made Hull House in Chicago possible for more than twenty years, were also remarkable in that regard.

This was the period Susan B. Anthony came to call, "the epoch of the single woman."

For Dr. Bates it was also 1893, and Wellesley College paid its faculty at that time $400 a year plus meals and laundry. Well, it turns out, $400 a year didn’t go very far. So, to supplement income faculty would write books, do lecture tours, or take summer jobs teaching at other institutions. Dr. Bates had taken the summer of 1893, to teach at Colorado College in Colorado Springs. While there, she and some colleagues decided to scale the 14,000 feet of Pike’s Peak.

 "We hired a prairie wagon," Bates would later recall. "Near the top we had to leave the wagon and go the rest of the way on mules. I was very tired. But when I saw the view, I felt great joy. All the wonder of America seemed displayed there, with the sea-like expanse."

The opening lines of a poem, celebrating "spacious skies" and "purple mountain majesties," formed in her mind. Like Sabine Bering-Gould in composing "Onward, Christian Soldiers," she completed the poem in one sitting, though she perhaps with a bit more sophistication.

She submitted the poem to The Congregationalist, the national periodical of the Congregational-Christian churches, and it first appeared in the issue of July 4, 1895. The poem finally caught the eye of the nation in the Boston Evening Transcript in 1904. Shortly after that, it was set to the music of Samuel Ward’s "Materna," and the rest (as they say) is history.

We enjoy a rich culture thanks to the contributions of folk whom the mainstream have very often elected to ignore. Granted, sometimes this may be because those same folk have elected to hide in plain sight, like Dr. Bates. Still, this wide variety of people makes America beautiful in a rich diversity of ways and colors and cultures. And, surprising as it may sometimes seem, we have men and women willing to live and die for that same rich culture full of such a variety of people expressive of themselves in such a multitude of ways!

If there is a great desire of God among us in this day and age, I believe it may be that we grow to appreciate and even embrace that very diversity in which we have been created and in which we are being creative ourselves.

I may have difficulty singing "Onward, Christian Soldiers." In fact, I DO have difficulty singing, "Onward, Christian Soldiers," but that's my problem, not yours. And I cannot deny how it has stirred the hearts and minds of so many faithful, perhaps even you. I rest in that, despite myself.

I will never sing "America the Beautiful" without remembering that it was written by a woman who, from all appearances and by any modern-day measure, was a lesbian. I rest in that, as well.

On this prelude to Memorial Day, as we honor those who have gone before us in service, or who having served have then gone on before us, as we pray that they may rest in peace, let us pray for the living that we may rest in peace as well.

Vietnam

World War II

"Stones" (sermon, May 22, 2011)

Scriptures from the Revised Common Lectionary for Year A, Easter 5, May 22, 2011:
Acts 7:55-60; Psalm 31:1-5, 15-16; 1 Peter 2:2-10; John 14:1-14

Our scriptures today come from the Revised Common Lectionary, the three-year rotation of readings offered by an interchurch body once called the Consultation on Church Union (now called, Churches Uniting in Christ).  The purpose of the unified sequence of readings is to give us mainline Christians something like one voice, making us seem like one people on the one day of the week when we are both the most united and the most segregated, by culture, tradition, format, and style.

So, blame the composers of the Revised Common Lectionary for coming up with this at first apparently misbegotten set of rocky references.  Maybe they meant to create this stony blend in order to demonstrate the plethora of purposes to which stones may be used.  And, what is more, the precise purposes for which we – individually and as a church – have been designed.  But it also puts me in mind of how much throughout history, even up to the present, we have used our religion as a cruelly-aimed stone against people we dislike or who dislike us.

We should be stones...

In Psalm 31, God is lauded as our Rock and our Refuge; in Acts 7, we see the stoning of Stephen; then also John 14, in which Jesus figures himself as a masterbuilder; and finally my own subject matter for now, First Peter 2, encouraging us to think of ourselves as building materials for a new and spiritual temple dedicated to God.

I want to concentrate on our reading from First Peter and to suggest the possibility that we may be at one with God by understanding and cultivating a character for ourselves like that which Christ revealed – accepting and affirming others regardless of differences – living lives that emulate his.

Strangely enough, the author of First Peter encourages us to pursue this, emphasizing how we are like "living stones." 

You would think that the impermeability and hardness of stones would make for us a metaphor for being isolated and closed off, but that is not the case! We are to be living stones, hewn and polished and fitted together into a great and brilliant temple for our God.

Sadly for the Church, this is usually an ought-to-be statement rather than a statement of reality.  Throughout our history, and especially since Christianity became a major Western religion, it has been less common for us to behave as if we are stones being built into a temple, and more as if we are using our religion as a stone to smite perceived foes and competitors.

Our religion is part of ourselves, but historically Christians have used bits of our religion, to abuse others.
The Church has been notorious throughout history, even up to the present, for having exercised a cruel measure of power against others who resisted the good news we were professing because they thought that the good news wasn’t all that great.

Lately and historically, we have also seen people who are either innocent or naive who suffer because they have believed in the missiles church leaders were throwing. Whether they were misguided folk throwing themselves to the lions in ancient Rome, or Rapture-believers giving over everything they own and survive on, these unhappy few suffered because of the stupidity of others. Both of these examples were simply trying their best to do what they had heard God would have them do in order to demonstrate their faithfulness. More's the pity.

Mind you, using their religion as a weapon (and losing innocents who got caught in the crossfire) is probably grounded in the persecution Christians received at the hands of others for the first three centuries of our existence: They once stoned Stephen? Well, then, we’ll just stone them back!  But, based on the knowledge of grace and peace taught to us by our Redeemer, it is indefensible, nowadays and ever since the Fourth Century when we became a world power, revenge is out of the question. 

In other words, we have been justifying our bad behavior of unjustifiably stoning others, using rather selectively the language or meanings we have found in the Bible.

Take as one example our historical responses to Jesus’ words to Philip in the fourteenth chapter of the gospel according to John: “I am the way and the truth and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through me.”

These words have been used and, let’s be blunt, abused by Christians for centuries.  They have served as words of comfort in nearly every funeral service I have ever performed, but outside of funerals, the saying has been anything but comforting. Instead, we have tended to use them to create an elitist, exclusionary attitude among Christians, against people of other religions or of no religion at all. We living stones have had a common tendency to hurl this saying like a weapon, when we should not.

Some, like the scholars in the Jesus Seminar, have counter-argued that Jesus never actually said these words.  In fact, according to a majority of the Jesus Seminar, Jesus himself never said anything that has been recorded in the gospel according to John.  Rather, John is a voice of Christian tradition as it would have been heard in the late First and early Second Centuries.  The voice of Christ here, they say, is actually the voice of the early Church.

I can neither confirm nor deny this claim, and (frankly) neither can the Jesus Seminar.  It’s just their best guess.  Mind you, it’s a pretty good guess, I’m sure.  But I suspect that the reason for them arguing against these words coming out of Jesus’ mouth is that they want to discredit the abuses for which they’ve been used.

Unfortunately, by claiming that Jesus never said what he says in John, the Jesus Seminar pretty effectively challenges the authority of John’s gospel when, in fact, what it would be far better to do – for the sake of Christian history and tradition – would be, to make an alternative interpretation of the gospel as accurate as possible.  Because even the strictest readers of the gospel have to admit, the saying, “I am the way and the truth and the life; no one comes to the Father except through me,” can have numerous meanings. 

The first meaning you might find, is the most traditionally recognized: Jesus is the only way to heaven.  I’ll admit right now, this might be what it means.  It might have been what Jesus meant.  Given what else we know about Jesus, however, if most of the rest of the sayings attributed to him are true, then to affirm in these words some sort of exclusive right to heaven for his followers is ridiculous.  And, further, to use these words to marginalize and exclude, or even villify, others is sinful.

You see, in John and all the other gospels, Jesus has numerous encounters with non-believers, or – at least – people who do not believe in God the way that he does, and in two cases (that of the Canaanite or Syrophoenician woman whose daughter is demon-possessed, and that of the Roman centurion who appeals to Jesus on behalf of his dying slave) Jesus actually praises them for their faith... a faith or a religion which is not the same as his. 

Furthermore, no Gentile whom Jesus helps is ever reported to change stripes.  But all are deemed worthy at least of recognition and honor by God’s very own Son.  This appears to me to indicate that the idea of faith or belief in Jesus as the only way to heaven is at least somewhat questionable.

Jesus lived in a pluralistic society much like ours.  And nowhere other than here in John, chapter 14, in this moment at the table of the last supper, has it been alleged that Jesus himself claimed for his followers exclusive access to God.  Heaven would appear, instead, to be attainable by people who – perhaps unbeknownst to themselves or even despite themselves, or (even more!) despite the efforts of Christian believers – happen to act as if they trusted in God.  As if is close enough, it is clear: so stop worrying about what other people think or believe, and work on yourself!

One more way of interpreting the saying,“I am the Way and the Truth and the Life,” is to hear in those words first of all the words “I am.”  For Jesus, a Jew, to be speaking these words is in a very important sense for him to be acknowledging and revering the Holy Name, "I AM THAT I AM" –  אֶהְיֶה אֲשֶׁר אֶהְיֶה – pronounced Ehyeh asher ehyeh. (Exodus 3:14)

Thus, “I AM: the Way and the Truth and the Life” (or “Yahweh [is] the Way and the Truth and the Life”) could be viewed as a statement of reverence for the Creator – Jesus’ own personal creed, you might say.  (see The New Interpreter's Bible, Vol. IX, p. 568: note for John 4:26)

With these words in John 14, Jesus might not be referring to himself (or, at least, not himself alone), and neither would he be doing so in the five other “I am” statements and discourses in John (“I AM” – the Bread of Life; the Light of the World; the Good Shepherd; the Resurrection and the Life; the True Vine). 

Throughout John, Jesus by these statements affirms and extols the presence, the power, and the faithfulness of God.

Read in this way, for him to say “No one comes to the Father except through me” is his faith-filled exclamation.  The Messiah here proclaims his cosmic role for the persecuted and long-suffering people of God. 

Maybe it’s time-bound affirmation of protection as salvation, a word for a particular empire.  Maybe it was as much as for him to say to Rome, “If you want to claim the lordship of the earth for yourselves, to usurp the one true God, you’ll have me to deal with me.”

But maybe it’s less time-bound, and as I consider many of us to believe.  Maybe anyone who wants to get to heaven will eventually have to go walk in the ways and teachings of the Christ.  “No one gets to the Father except through me,” could be the crowning affirmation that there is something timeless, something religiously boundless, something that everyone in the end must face.  The only way to know God is to practice compassion.  The only sure measure of whether you save yourself and others will be in whether your life unfolded as Jesus’ did: Did you live and love and show compassion and die to yourself and find new life?

Not everyone can handle that rock of a religion.

The stone that the builders rejected is the chief cornerstone, and how shall we – living stones with our Messiah – not be joined together into a spiritual house, a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God – honoring our God, defending God’s people!

Jesus is our builder and our cornerstone, our keystone: our way, our truth, our life!  We have come to this moment, this place, through the one who is our rock, our refuge, our first and only and insurmountable line of defense against Rome – the evil and the cruelty of this world – and who is shaping us living stones to be for the world as Christ is for us. 

So, we must not, we may not, we shall not use Christ’s words as projectiles and blunt instruments – slinging religious stones to exclude or isolate those others who are just as beloved of our God as we are, whether they are faithful to related traditions, to other traditions or to no tradition.  Goodness is goodness, in God’s eyes, and should be so in ours as well; righteousness is righteousness; and in a world so bent with misery, shame, and cruelty, in a world so broken and torn by sin, we – like Jesus – shall recognize and receive righteousness where it resides...

But we must, we may, we shall continue to express the invitation as well!  God is our way, our truth, and our life, and anyone who would practice as we practice and live as we live, with the assurance of salvation (of the presence of the Holy Spirit in our trials and rejoicing), must eventually and ultimately go through Christ.  The realm of heaven is at hand for everyone, everyone, and Jesus presents us an acceptable – albeit also challenging – way, truth, life.  The compassionate among us invite others to travel along with us, so that we may all anticipate and endure whatever joy or hardship may come.

We are stones hewn for building a temple not made with hands, a realm not seen with the eyes... for salvation, and neither we nor the religion we profess ought to be used for the destruction of others.  We are living stones fitted together for the protection of the vulnerable and the similarly compassionate, not for their abuse.

May God bless us, to not only possess Christlike faith but to express it and live it, as well.  Amen.

Hey, FAMILYRADIO.ORG! See you, next week!

Sunday, May 15, 2011, was Good Shepherd Sunday in the course of the Revised Common Lectionary.  We opened the service with a presentation of this video, a set of images prepared by Walter Trachim to accompany the gorgeous "23rd Psalm (dedicated to my mother)" by Bobby McFerrin.

This sermon then followed:



“The Polite Invitation”
(LISTEN TO THE AUDIO VERSION OF THIS SERMON AT http://tinyurl.com/3ea49eg)

Signs up everywhere lately proclaim a false gospel, threatening people with the end of the world – with hell and destruction – unless they repent by this Saturday.

I am inclined to post a response in our signboard, tomorrow.  A tweet, which I will also post on our Twitter page and Facebook page:

HEY, FAMILYRADIO.ORG! C U NEXT WEEK! :-D @FIRSTCHURCHWG

I find it beyond tiresome to still have to address mistaken Christianity in this way, this late in the history of our religion. But some people continue to remain unenlightened, continue to propagate a message of salvation which is only focused on the afterlife, persist in representing a false gospel.

There is so much to do in this life!  So much abuse and cruelty that deserves to be confronted and prevented...

There is too much wrong-hearted religion passing itself off as Christianity nowadays.

How about a polite invitation, rather than a threat!

I will acknowledge that this may seem a little goofy, but I think I shall never be able to read the gospel text we read today in the same way again, now that I have seen the movie, Babe.

Now, maybe some of you haven’t seen it yet, or don’t know about it.  It’s not new; it came out in 1995, based on the 1983 novel, The Sheep Pig, by Dick King-Smith (which was retitled, Babe – The Gallant Pig, for U.S. publication).

By now, you can guess the concept of the film.  Those of you who are now looking forward to seeing the film without knowing it’s ending need to know now that I am about to tell it to you.  But this film is not exactly what one could call plot-driven.  It is predictable and espouses the customary democratic ideals of independence and self-determination over against heavy-handed authoritarianism.  You will watch it and say to yourself, “I’ve seen this story before.”  What is unique is not the plot, but the puppetry, trained animals, and special effects... which were some of the first really successful computer animation seeming to make real live animals talk.

So, those of you unable to forgive me beforehand for revealing the ending of a movie you haven’t seen, I will do something I rarely do.  I will encourage to tune out of the sermon now (work on your grocery list, whatever...), and join the rest of us somewhere around the words:  “Now I assure you there is plenty more to watch...” which I promise I will say loudly enough so that they jar you back into listening.

OK, so... First of all, Babe is about this pig, who since he is a pig is slated for the block, but who along the way discovers a certain gift he has for herding sheep.  His owner is a farmer named (of all things) Hoggett, who at first unknowingly encourages Babe’s herding behavior by bedding Babe with his border collies, but who later intentionally cultivates the gift.

Notable for the sake of the plot, Babe approaches herding from a different means than the border collies.  They nip and chase the sheep.  As a result, the sheep do not distinguish these protector dogs from any other long-toothed predators and therefore call them, “wolves.”  They hate the growling, snapping beasts, and act stupid simply to annoy them.

The pig in his touring about the farm meets an elderly ewe who befriends him and becomes something of a grandmotherly mentor figure, who gives him the clue that politeness and hospitable-ness are the ways to win friends and influence sheep.  He follows her advice.

One day, straying away from the barnyard into the sheepfold, Babe discovers that he has as much capacity for rounding up the livestock as any dog has, and with greater consistency and success than chasing and biting produce.

Eventually, and here’s where the scripture connects, Hoggett enrolls the pig in a sheepdog competition (how he does this I will leave to your viewing pleasure).  When Babe and the collies learn that the contest sheep only respond to dog-style herding techniques and treat Babe’s greetings as if they are deaf, one of the dogs runs back to their own sheepfold and (believe it or not!) speaks with the sheep there.  Then, swearing him to secrecy, the sheep tell him the muttonesque equivalent of a password which will get the contest sheep to do exactly what Babe asks.

The dog returns just in time to get the secret code to the pig, and Babe wins the day, directing the six sheep around various barriers and into a circle drawn on the grass.  The last, and brilliant, coup which had me laughing until I cried, the first time I saw the film, was Babe’s cutting technique. 

The Sheep Pig



Babe
— MOVIECLIPS.com

Now, working on a ranch as a youth, I have used horses and dogs to “cut” sheep and horses, which is to say “separate a herd into one or more groups”.  Cutting can be a maddening exercise even the most experienced herder and dogs.  It’s nigh unto impossible unless you can exercise the utmost patience and calm.

In Babe’s routine, there are six ewes — three with collars and three without — inside a circle, and he says, and I quote, “Now, ladies, if those of you with the red collars would kindly step outside of the circle and into the pen, I would be most grateful.”  And, docilely, with true determination to make their porcine brother look good in the face of a thoroughly doubting crowd of humans, the three do exactly that!

Then, the three last are penned, Hoggett says, “To me, pig,” Babe comes to heel, and the crowd goes insane with applause and cheers.  Beneath the cheering, the farmer gazes admiringly down at his well-heeled porker and says, “That’ll do, pig,” which is of course about as thrilling a bit of praise as one is ever going to hear from an Anglo-Saxon farmer. It translates roughly to "Well done, thou good and faithful servant!"

Now, I assure you, that there is plenty more to watch and lots more conflict than I have presented to you in this digest of the movie, but this much is what I thought might help to illustrate the text of the gospel:

The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep.  The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice.  He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.  When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. (John 10:2-4)

Do you see why I cannot help but think of that film, when I read this scripture?

I mean, if you think about it, being a follower of the Christ puts us in this curious reality, in which a bridge has been formed between us and the One who knows what we need.  In response, we do the will of the One.  Or at least so goes the scripture.

Look, it goes this way:  The gospels all demonstrate how when Jesus would speak to the disciples, they tried their level best to understand, but did not, no matter how hard they tried...  I mean, they caught much of the ethical meaning of Jesus’ teachings.  But most of the morals Jesus taught about were pretty obvious anyway, and all of them had been said before by other prophets.

It was not until that third day of Jesus’ death that, it is said, the disciples actually understood the impact of what he had been saying.  It took that key event — Jesus’ destruction and restoration, his death and resurrection — for it finally to occur to anyone exactly Who Jesus Was or Had been... or Is!

They had thought he was just another man, but he was not.  He was the shepherd and the gate of the sheep; by Christ we find our direction, through Christ we go to safety.  The word of God is spoken and we know the voice of the One who is our defender, our protector; that word we heed.  And when another voice comes on the air, or a thief comes over the fence, we know the voice of our shepherd; we will not be called away, lured away, or carried away.  Christ is there for us, inviting us politely, assuredly.

Mind you, for some, the invitation may not have seemed so polite.  But usually, that is because we have neglected to pay attention to the invitation, and we have as a result sent ourselves careening off in wrong directions – 

• of abuse and addiction, 
• of self-gratification at others’ expense, 
• of ignorance and disregard of the needs of others, 
• of insistence that we have all the answers when in fact what we specialize in is questions..!

For those, the call, the invitation to “repent and believe the good news that God is near and God’s realm is at your fingertips” has sounded harsh and uncivil.

It matters that we hear the Shepherd’s voice, it matters that we live as our Shepherd lived, take upon ourselves the word of God the way Jesus lived the word.  It matters what we do, how we are perceived, where we lead and where we follow.  It matters.

There is so much to do in this life, for the sake of saving the world!  There is so much abuse and cruelty that deserves to be confronted and prevented...

There is too much wrong-hearted religion passing itself off as Christianity nowadays, which only perpetuates those same cycles of cruelty, abuse, and violence..!

How about a polite invitation, rather than a threat!

Sensational Faith (sermon, Mothers Day, May 8, 2011)

The audio version of this sermon is available at http://tinyurl.com/3d55trk
To begin, let me tell you that this past Thursday I preached in the chapel at Eden Seminary a sermon based on  1 Peter 1:17-23, which brings forward much theologically about spiritual rebirth, but which also attributes to God the Father the capacity of giving birth.  Not wanting to limit the power of God, I posited that we need to be about the business of recognizing that God is also Mother, if God is giving birth to all of us.

Today, I want to address the story of the Road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13-35), which brings up some of the issues that we will have to be ready to wrestle with, if we are to find new and appropriate ways to refer to God, given our modern conditions of living in a democratic society in which people are to be recognized and respected as equals.

In this story, we meet two disciples, the name of one of whom is Cleopas (or Clopas, who is often speculated also be Alphaeus with his name spelled differently from one Greek testament to another). More precisely, these two are probably the parents of a disciple, James the Less, who in one gospel is referred to as James son of Alphaeus. The reason I speculate that they are James' parents is because in one of the gospels there is a Mary wife of Clopas standing at the foot of the cross with Mary Magdalene and Jesus' mother and aunt (John 19:25), while in the others "Mary the mother of James the younger and Joses" is identified as being there (Mark 15:40, Matthew 27:56, Luke 24:10), and in Mark 16:1 a certain "Mary mother of James" approaches the tomb with Mary Magdalene and discovers that a resurrection has taken place.

So, if one of the travelers is Cleopas and the other unnamed, chances are that Mediterranean modesty is prevailing in the story, and the author is choosing not to mention that the other is Cleopas' wife.

Anyway, here's the story... Two disciples of Jesus, at the end of one incredible, jarring weekend, are on their way home to recuperate.  And as they walk back, they meet another traveller going the same way.  This fellow traveller asks them what’s up, and they wonder at the fact that he hasn’t heard the news about what has happened to all those Galileans who rolled into town, last Sunday.  So they tell him about it, and he says something like, “Oh, that!  Well, don’t you know that that was bound to happen?”

And the first traveller says, “You mean, because the Romans are a violent police state who will not put up with rousers of the rabble?”

And the third traveller says, “No, that’s not what I mean.  I — ”

And the second traveller says, “You mean, because the temple authorities are vicious, cowardly people who cannot bear that someone would challenge their monolithic power?”

And the third traveller says, “No, that’s not what I mean either.  I — ”

And the first traveller pipes back in and says, “You mean, because the mob in Jerusalem is no different than the mob in Rome and, as we learned with Julius Caesar, will blow in whatever direction the popular wind seems to be blowing?”

And the third traveller says, “No, not that either.  I — ”

And the second traveller interrupts once more to say, “You mean, because. . .  I think we’ve run out of becauses.  What do you mean?”

And the third traveller says, “I mean, if this Jesus of yours was who he said he was, that is the Messiah, then what happened to him is exactly what should have happened. . . at least, according to what the Law, the Prophets, and the Writings say.  Listen. . .”  And with that began a conversation which made hearts to burn in the breasts of their bearers.

Farther along their way, the three travellers come to a place in the road where the third says that he has to go another way, on to his own home.  But the other two are so rapt by what he’s been saying that they insist he not go on yet but join them at home and have a meal with them.  Besides, dusk is coming upon them, and it will soon be too dark to travel safely.  And so, apparently convinced, the third turns aside with them.

They arrive home and prepare dinner.  And the conversation continues.  The stranger asks them to tell him more about Jesus of Nazareth and his teaching, and they do.  And he remarks and seems to marvel at the wisdom of the carpenter of Nazareth.

When finally the meal is served, the common bowl is placed at the center of their table, wondrously aromatic.  The two are famished, and they assume that their seven-mile colleague must be also.  The two ask the one if he wouldn’t mind saying the blessing over the food.  The first takes the loaf and blesses it saying the Hebrew grace for bread, “Baruch atto Adonai elohenu, melech ho’olom, ha-mo-tzee le-chem me’en ho-o-retz.”  He breaks the bread, then, and offers each a piece.  They watch in awe as he sets the bread before them.

They’ve seen and heard this before: on a plain with thousands of people but only five loaves and a couple of fish; in countless dining rooms; and just three nights before at their last supper together with...

The first of them, finding his voice, says, “Hey, wait a minute!  I know you!”

And the second of them says, “Yeah, you're — ”

And the third of them vanishes.

I just have to wonder... How is it that when these two disciples see Jesus, they do not recognize him?  I mean, according to John the evangelist’s telling of this story, beyond the recognizability of Jesus’ face, there were also his wounds still visible in the resurrected body that would have indicated to them who he was.  Granted, this is Luke’s version of a post-Resurrection story, but surely, you cannot hide wounds like those.

Now, maybe Jesus was wearing a hood, gloves, and shoes, but even if that is the case how do we explain that Resurrection Jesus can be both walking with these two and – on this same night – be in Jerusalem consoling the Ten gathered in the Upper Room?  A resurrected body is still a body, and a body cannot be in two places at once.  Maybe when he disappears from Emmaus, he shows up in the Upper Room, but trying to come up with explanations misses the point.


Resurrection Jesus in this story of walking along the Emmaus road is like Resurrection Jesus with Mary Magdalene or Resurrection Jesus with Thomas — unrecognizable as himself until he does something familiar.  I don’t know how she mistook him for the gardener; I don’t know why Cleopas and his traveling companion (probably his wife Mary) didn’t recognize Jesus on their walk.  I don’t know how Thomas could have been doubtful and could have thought that that figure before him on the second Sunday could have been someone else.

What I do know is, in John Mary hears him say her name.  At this sojourn on the way to Emmaus, Jesus breaks bread, the same way he had done, three nights before, when he said, “Whenever you do this, remember me.”  And Thomas, though he may not have recognized the man, recognized the wounds and actually put his fingers in them.

Here, I have managed to identify (oh, I think) five different ways for us – if we cultivate for ourselves a relationship with Jesus – to recognize that we are not alone, and that we travel not only with those obviously on the journey with us, but that we have Christ as our companion.

Such a time will arise when we like Thomas are willing to look upon another’s sufferings, wounds, and scars, and to know the truth.  There Jesus is.

Such a time will arise when another allows us to touch those same wounds and scars, and to comprehend the full power of recovery and restoration.  That is what resurrection bears in its fullness – completeness, even despite great pain.

Such a time will arise when we like Mary are in our own misery, despair, and loss.  If we will but listen and pay attention, someOne will be saying our name comfortingly, assuring us not that our woe is unwarranted but that it will not defeat us.  The Resurrection is real, and Christ is risen.

Such a time will be found in more mundane times, such as when we sit down to a meal, break bread (oh, when we break bread!) and smell the richness of the moment, taste its wonders!

Oh, and one more!  Such a time will arise when we are engaged in discovering, uncovering, and recovering what all This means — this faith, this hope, this love.  We will be in probing conversation about our experiences in light of the Bible – the Law, the Prophets, and the Writings – and our hearts will burn.
It is when Christ offers us the obvious for recognition’s sake, that we know “that’s the One,” “Christ is here right now!”

Sight, touch, smell, taste, hearing – our senses and our sensations inform us of our relationship with the One who unites us with God.  For us, the depth of believing doesn’t necessarily come from good Bible study or unquestioning obedience to God’s will or the best practices of stewardship or even regular attendance in worship; it comes from our attention to our relationship with Christ, from allowing our attention to be drawn toward Christ.

On Ash Wednesday, I smudged foreheads and the backs of hands with a blend of burnt Palm Sunday palms and olive oil (BTW, hang onto your Palm Sunday branches until next Fat Tuesday, when I’ll burn them).  I did a footwashing demonstration with a few readers on Maundy Thursday, and then with Linda Smith anointed the lot of you with oil scented by frankincense and myrrh; plus, I sprinkled everybody here on Easter.  I raise the elements during communion, not in order to mark the moment of transubstantiation but in order to take a moment to pause as Christ paused in blessing at the table in Emmaus.

Faith is not just in the head, not just in the heart.  Christian faith is designed to be in the hands, in our noses, in our mouths, in our eyes, our ears.

Emmaus is not bound to one location, nor one time, anymore than our experience of faith is limited to what we perceive with one sense!  Emmaus is here in the heart.  And everywhere, we are meeting that mysterious stranger (in hood and gloves and shoes), our hearts burn as we talk about the book, our eyes are opened when we smell the meal and break the bread, and we meet the traveler again familiarly when we gather to share and gain experiences.

Easter Invitation

This video is best viewed full-screen and with the sound ON.

Be sure to watch to the end!