Sermon, "The Holy Club: A Matter of Faith," Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16, 32-40, 12:1-12

Sermon 6/23/19

Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16, 32-40, 12:1-2

The Holy Club: A Matter of Faith

Today we’re continuing in our sermon series on The Holy Club. The Holy Club, remember, was the name given to John and Charles Wesley and their friends who started gathering regularly - several times a week - to encourage each other in their discipleship, to be accountable to each other in their faith journeys. As part of this plan of accountability, they had a set of questions - twenty-one (ish, depending on how you count) that they would use for self-reflection, and then share their reflections with their group. And during this series, we’re trying to follow along with them.

You can see in your bulletin insert the next set of questions from the twenty-one that we’re focusing on today: When did I last speak to someone else about my faith? Am I defeated in any part of my life? Am I proud? Am I self-conscious, self-pitying, or self-justifying? Do I thank God that I am not as other people, especially as the Pharisees who despised the publican? Is there anyone whom I fear, dislike, disown, criticize, hold a resentment toward or disregard? If so, what am I doing about it? Do I grumble or complain constantly? Is Christ real to me? Like last week, I find all of the questions challenging: I’d have to acknowledge, if I’m honest about these questions, that sometimes, for example, what I’m doing about the feelings of resentment I have toward someone is nurturing them, rather than working for healing and reconciliation. But today, we’re particularly focusing on the theme of “faith,” having faith, growing faith in our discipleship journey, and so I’m particularly keyed in on the first and last question on that list.

First: When did I last speak to someone else about my faith? When we asked ourselves this question at Bible study last week, I asked the class to further narrow the question: When did you last speak about your faith to someone who wasn’t a part of this congregation, to someone who wasn’t perhaps part of any congregation? You might think that as a pastor, I have this question in the bag. I talk to people about faith all the time, right? And truly, I do. But if I am not careful, not intentional, I spend so much of my time attending to the ins and out of our church life here, in this place, that I’m not spending nearly as much time talking to folks who aren’t connected to this faith community or any faith community as I think God calls me to be. I have to be intentional about cultivating relationships with folks who aren’t already moving in the same circles as I am. And what’s more: I have to be interested in real relationships with people. If I’m trying to get to know people just enough that I can tell them how much better off they’d be if they shared my faith? Well, people will not be impressed by that kind of inauthenticity! Sharing my faith with others also means living without fear of whether others will like me or not. I’m not saying we’re meant to boldly thump people over the head with our faith. In my experience, that basically never produces the desired results! But I’m saying: sometimes claiming the faith of Jesus is hard. We might feel uncool, out of step with culture, old-fashioned somehow, or like we’ll be labeled as overzealous, self-righteous folks. It can be hard to talk about our faith when it would be easier to get along if we stayed quiet. Easier, for sure. But if we’re not sharing our faith with others, and our faith is a significant part of who we are, then we’re never be able to share our full selves with others if we keep holding back. Sometimes young people are our best models for sharing faith sincerely, sharing their whole selves without editing because of how they might be received. That’s one of the things I appreciate about Taylor sharing today: Taylor is pretty transparent. She’s sincere, and you don’t have to wonder about the things that are important to her, because they shine through. How well do the people in your life know what’s important to you? Do they know how your faith shapes you?

The last question asks: Is Christ real to you? How would you answer this question? Some days, maybe you struggle to say yes. Or maybe it’s easy for you to affirm this statement all the time. And if that’s the case, I’ll ask a follow up: How do you demonstrate it? How do you show that Christ is real to you? What evidence is there in your life that Christ is real to you?  

Our scripture text today is from the book of Hebrews. Hebrews 11 has been one of my favorite chapters of the Bible since I was little. It is a beautiful litany of the ways in which people all throughout the stories in the scriptures relied on their faith in God to help them do the seemingly impossible, to confront injustice, to stand up in the face of persecution, to travel to unknown places and face hostile opposition. It’s a litany of people who heard God’s promises, believed them, and lived their lives accordingly, even when they didn’t get to see those promises come to pass in their lifetime. I encourage you to read the whole chapter.

The author writes, “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” After listing many we might think of as biblical “heroes,” the author says, “All of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them.” And he concludes, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.” For every name listed in Hebrews 11, God was very real to them, and it showed. Because their faith in God was firm - not because they were so wonderful, but because they believed that God was truly so wonderful - they were able to live faithfully, serve faithfully in God’s name.  

As we reflect on these Holy Club questions today, as we’ve listened to Taylor’s testimony, as we are full of hope for the lives, for the futures of the people we celebrate today: the newly baptized, our friends heading to a new place, our graduates entering a new season of life, as we hear the litany of faith in Hebrews, I have a few questions of my own to add to Wesley’s.

What have you done by faith? In other words, what has your faith enabled you to do that you couldn’t have done or wouldn’t have done otherwise?

Who is in your cloud of witnesses? The author of Hebrews lists so many from the biblical witness. If you had to write your own version of Hebrews 11, whose faith stories are the ones that are shaping and inspiring you, beyond the pages of the Bible?

Have you endured consequences for your faith? What helps you get through, when keeping faith is hard?

What promises of God can you see being fulfilled in your life, but maybe still at a distance? Today when I think of Hadley and Sutherlynn, Shea-Marie and Taylor and Emily, Cadie, Kelly, Ayse, Killian, Bryn, and Rhydian - I see people in whom the promises of God are at work. And the unfolding of some of these promises, I hope we get to see up close, as young lives unfold in our midst, and with our support. And some of these promises we’ll see unfold but from a distance. Wherever we are, wherever we go, whatever we encounter: God is faithful. Christ is real. And God’s promises are realized in their time. That’s a blessing worth sharing, a faith worth sharing. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Sermon, "Strengthen Your Core: Presence," Hebrews 10:19-25

Sermon 4/29/18

Hebrews 10:19-25

Strengthen Your Core: Presence

On a scale of 1-10, how present are you today? In early 2016, this photo of young people at a museum in Amsterdam, in front of Rembrandt’s painting Night Watch, went viral.[1] It was taken in 2014 sometimes, but in the way of the internet, somehow sparked interest in early 2016. “Oh, young people and technology!” people lamented. “They aren’t even paying attention to the beautiful artwork that is right next to them.” Of course, the true story was a little different than a bunch of teens ignoring the art around them. There at the museum on a school trip, they had been instructed to read more about the artist on an app on their phone. Other photos of the class show them absorbed in looking at the paintings. A picture taken out of context, it seems. There was a provocative article written in response to the quick criticism: “This Photo Went Viral Because We Love Shaming Teens For Using The Technology We Give Them.”[2] (emphasis added) Some other images to consider: This photo, taken during the presidential election campaign season in 2016, of Hillary Rodham Clinton with a crowd full of people wanting “selfies” – which meant they all actually turned their back on her. She was right there! But everyone was facing the other way.[3] Or this image that shows the difference in the crowds waiting for the announcement of a new pope: Pope Benedict in 2005, and Pope Francis in 2013.[4] (All those lights are phones, not candles!)

            It’s easy to blame technology, meant to make it easier for us to communicate, easier than ever to stay in touch and stay connected, for making us less and less present. I know I’m guilty of this myself. If I’m waiting in a checkout line, I’m probably playing on my phone instead of chatting with the person ahead of me. If I need to eat a meal alone, use my phone as a wall of sorts: I’m not alone, not bored, not just sitting there. I’m doing something important! A working lunch! But I think technology, as with most things, is just the tool, the tool that we can use in good ways and bad, in ways that enhance our lives and detract, in ways that magnify our impulses. And our impulse, apparently, is to disengage rather than engage, to isolate rather than build up relationships, to wall ourselves in, rather than break down barriers. Our technologies, I think, have just made it easier to follow through on those impulses.

How present are you today? “As members of the body of Christ and in this congregation of The United Methodist Church, we will faithfully participate in the ministries of the church by our presence.” Not present like gift – that’s next week! No, we vow that part of our faithful core-strengthening discipleship comes by showing up! In some ways, this seems like the easiest one of all, doesn’t it? Support the church by your presence? Well, you’re here, aren’t you? I mean, isn’t this sermon a bit like preaching to the choir? You’ve all come today to be in this time of worship when you could be doing any number of other things. You’re here! You showed up! Done, right? And indeed, I am so thankful that you are here, that of all the things you could be doing, what you are doing now is gathering together with a group of journeyers on the way, praising God, and trying to listen for God’s direction in your life. That’s a part of showing up that means a lot. And when we make the vow to participate in the ministry of the church by our presence, actually showing up to worship and to ministry and mission events – that’s a very serious part of what we commit to doing. I do not take it for granted, your presence. The presence of each one of you. But it’s more than that.

            Today we heard a lesson from the book of Hebrews. This anonymously authored book is counted as an Epistle, a letter, but it is really more of a sermon than a letter. Hebrews contains some of the most moving sections in all of the scriptures. You’re probably most familiar with Hebrews 11: “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen,” which the author follows with a beautiful litany of how people responded to God and how we are called to do likewise: by faith, by faith, by faith. Our Adult Sunday School class has spent a lot of time working with through Hebrews together.

Here in this section we find the author reminding us that because of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, we are able to draw even closer in relationship to God. We are able to come into God’s presence without a barrier, without a curtain that keeps us separated, as did the designs of the temple in Jerusalem that kept people away from the holiest place where it was thought God would dwell. Because of Jesus, we can claim the gift of being invited into God’s very presence. The author goes on to tell us how we ought to come into God’s presence though: by seeking to have a clean heart and a clear conscience, by holding fast to our faith, “provoking” one another to good deeds and loving actions – I love that language, that idea of provoking each other to do good – not normally how we try to provoke one another, is it? – and by meeting together, encouraging one another as we prepare our hearts and lives for God’s kingdom. Apparently, gently encouraging people not to skip out on worship and fellowship isn’t new! The author of Hebrews says we shouldn’t “neglect to meet together, as is the habit of some” (emphasis added), but rather we should encourage each other. So, we can experience God’s being full present to us, especially because of knowing Jesus, and in turn we are meant to be present and encouraging to one another, building each other up in faith, love, and good works. Being present is about our presence with God, and our presence with one another. God and neighbor, a pairing that has a familiar ring to it, doesn’t it?  

            In Jesus, we find the one who is God’s presence embodied, God-in-the-flesh. God, already ever-present, becoming one with us, because we still didn’t seem to get it – God’s inescapable presence. In the gospels we see Jesus demonstrate the power of being present. Yes, Jesus’ ministry was about his preaching, teaching, and healing. But I think one of the most powerful things Jesus did was spend time with people. He spent time with all kinds of people that most went out of their way to avoid. And in these instances, it isn’t always the content of the conversation between Jesus and the person that the gospel writers viewed as significant. It was the very act of Jesus spending time with others that was powerful. It was Jesus eating dinner with Zacchaeus. Jesus spending time talking to women as equals. Jesus spending time in regions filled with Gentiles. Jesus eating meals with Pharisees and sinners and prostitutes and tax collectors – Jesus honored them all with his presence, with his time, with conversation, with relationship, and made them feel, maybe for the first time ever, worth it. His presence was powerful. And so is ours! Giving someone the gift of your presence is just that – a gift you have to offer. A gift we too often withhold, intentionally or unintentionally. Just yesterday, I was visiting with someone who was near tears telling me how lonely she feels, how rare it is that people come to visit her. Just showing up was a gift I could offer, and it humbled me to have my time so valued, when I can so easily mentally check out of being fully present. How present are you? Are you present in your own life? Are you present here? In your relationship with God? With those around you for whom your presence could be a gift of love and hope?

In one of my Doctor of Ministry classes, one of the most challenging, one that required our deep, active participation all day every day, the professor had us start each class by rating ourselves – in our notebooks, not out loud, but just for ourselves – on a few questions. And the first question was always, “On a scale of 1-10, how present am I today?” It was a helpful question to ask. Some mornings I was ready to go, excited. Some mornings I didn’t feel very present at first. But just asking the question reminded me that I wanted to be fully present to my classwork. Why would I bother spending money and time to take a class for a degree that I don’t have to have, unless I was going to be fully present for everything I was meant to be learning? I wanted to be present. And asking the question helped me remember that. 

            This week, I want you to ask yourself that same question. Not just at the start of the day, but several times a day. On a scale of 1-10, how present am I? You can start right now, in the quiet of your mind. On a scale of 1-10, how present are you in worship right now? And then ask yourself that question all week long. How present are you at work? At school? How present are you when you’re driving? When you are at the store? How present are you when you speak with your children or your parents or your spouse or your friends? How present are you at meetings? At church? When you volunteer? When you walk down the sidewalk? When you interact with a cashier? How present are you when you talk to God? When God is trying to talk to you? How present are you in your life? 

            Ask yourself that question, and see if you can figure out if you are showing up to life. What areas of your life do wish you were more present for? What things might you have to tune out so that you can focus on being present to God and neighbor? Can you start making sure that you are really present with your family? With friends? With those in need? In the life of this congregation? In your relationship with God? God is here. The curtain, the veil is drawn back in the work of Jesus, and God is as close to us as we will let God get. Always present for us.  God is always here, and here is always wherever you are! And everything God does is an attempt to get us to show up too, to realize God’s presence, to be fully present ourselves, to invite others to start showing up too. God is here. Are you?

            Amen.

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[1] https://twitter.com/ChrisGunness/status/688112250607939584

[2] http://www.scarymommy.com/teens-on-phone-rembrandt-the-night-watch/

[3] https://petapixel.com/2016/09/27/hillary-clinton-photo-snapshot-selfie-generation/

[4] http://www.steves-digicams.com/news/the_papal_ceremony_shows_an_abundance_of_smartphone_and_tablet_cameras.html#b

Sermon, "Prayerful: Communion," Hebrews 11:1-8, 13-16, 23-40, 12:1-2

Sermon 11/1/15

Hebrews 11:1-8, 13-16, 23-40, 12:1-2

           

Prayerful: Communion

How would you define a Saint? What does it mean, to be a saint? I’ve been reading a little bit about different religious traditions and what they understand by the term “saints.” Some traditions understand the term saint in more formal ways – there’s a process to be officially named a saint. And others have a more fluid understanding of what it means. How about you? How do you define a saint? What is a saint? In most any tradition, the folks I encounter are sure of at least this: A saint is something other than themselves. I can’t say I often hear people identify themselves as a saint. Are you a saint? And yet, regardless of tradition, if, instead, I ask folks to name those who have been saints in their life, those who have died, those who are living, people can usually quickly tell me people they view as saints.

            There are many ways to define the word “saint,” but here’s what I’ve found most compelling. A saint is a person who has an exceptional degree of likeness to God. Or, a believer who is “in Christ” and in whom Christ dwells. I imagine that might well describe the people you’d call saints in your life. People who make you feel like you’ve drawn a little closer to God from being around them, from knowing them, from loving them. People who you interact with and think, “I caught a glimpse of Christ today.” Is this not what it is to be saint?    

             Today, we reflect in particular on the communion of saints in the body of Christ. When we say the Apostles Creed, we say that we believe, among other things, in “the holy catholic church, [and] the communion of saints. Here, catholic, with a small c means the church universal, literally “according to the whole” – the whole collective Christian church, the body of Christ in the world. And the communion of saints means the spiritual unity of the whole body of Christ, living and dead. It acknowledges that our connection to our loved ones, and our brothers and sisters in Christ doesn’t break with the barrier between life and death. They are still a part of the church, still a part of the body of Christ, just as are we. The communion of saints means that we are bound up together with all who came before us, in our own individual lives, in the life of this congregation and its predecessors, throughout Methodism, throughout church history, throughout our biblical heritage. Their story is our story, still. We’re just part of a later chapter of this one great story God is writing with creation.    

            In our book study, Bearing Fruit, we were talking this week about congregational creation stories. Apple Valley has a creation story. Not just our beginnings a decade ago, but our creation story includes our predecessor congregations. Why did Navarino and Cedarvale and South Onondaga and Cardiff become churches? What events led to their creation? What vision of ministry did the leaders of those faith communities have? Each generation of faithful disciples tries to live out the promises of God, tries to express, to realize God’s reign, God’s kingdom on earth, in their corner of the universe. That’s what we see in our reading from Hebrews. The author crafts this beautiful litany that is the story of God and God’s people. It’s a story of generation after generation acting in faith that God fulfills the promises made, that we may catch glimpses of God’s promises fulfilled, even as they are still unfolding, still expanding, beyond what any one person, any one generation sees. Even as we bear good fruit for God today, we plant seeds that won’t bear fruit in our own time, but in the generations yet to come, who also will seek to be faithful to God’s promises. It’s our story with God, and it makes us – you and me – part of this communion of saints – as much as we seek to live into God’s promises, as much as we seek to fulfill God’s vision for the world as much as we can, in our time, in God’s way for our lives. When we do this work, when we, by faith, like all the people in our reading from Hebrews, when we live into and live out of God’s promises, we are part of the communion of saints, the great cloud of witnesses.

A saint, I said, is a person who has an exceptional degree of likeness to God. Or, a believer who is “in Christ” and in whom Christ dwells. I don’t think this happens by accident, like you might accidentally be someone’s doppelganger. If we are to have a “likeness to God” – if we are to be people in whom Christ dwells, I think we practice. We work at it. That’s what it means to be disciples – students of Jesus, who are trying all the time to be more and more like their teacher. And so I have a task for us, to practice our discipleship this month. Last year I asked you to count your blessings during the month of November. I asked you to think about, every single day, at least 5 ways in which you are blessed, by posting on facebook, or writing it down, or keeping track in some other way. I have them here – your scrap papers, your notes, printouts from online, even a calendar page with blessings filled in on every square of the month. So we know we are blessed.

            I also asked us to think, last year, about how we are called to be blessings to others. God is the source of our blessings, but we also have the opportunity to offer blessings to others through our actions, through our love, through building each other up, through our words of affirmation. And that’s what I want us to focus on this year. Every day, I want you to think of a way you can bless someone, a way you can build up the community – not just the community of Apple Valley, but your work or school community, your family, your neighborhood, your global community even. I’m challenging all of us, each day of November, to bless someone else’s life. And I want you to be on particular lookout for people who might not usually get blessed by someone else. People, perhaps, that might not usually get blessed by you. People who are in some way not valued very much by society’s standards. Perhaps you’ll take this month to particularly seek after the sick and homebound, those who are living in nursing homes. Maybe you might focus on ways you can bless people who work in all sorts of customer service jobs – the person working at the convenience store, or at the fast food place. How often are they blessed by someone? Praised for their good work? Prayed for? Maybe you’ll bless some single parents. Some parents who stay home with children. Some local politicians – maybe even the ones you didn’t vote for. Maybe you’ll think of people you know who are struggling with addictions, or who have been in trouble. Maybe you’ll find that you have the power to bless someone who you’re usually fighting with. Even if you know there’s no way they’ll offer a blessing in return. Perhaps especially when you know that. You can choose the best way to do this, to offer your blessings. You can tag someone on facebook and tell the world how blessed you are to know them. You can write them a note, or make a phone call, and just tell them how much you value them, and God values them. You can do a task for them – help them with the dishes, or run an errand for them. Find someone’s boss and tell them what a good job their employee is doing. Tell a parent how great their child is. Every day, for 30 days, I want you focus on how you can be a blessing to someone else. We’re writing our part of the story, our story with God, our story of the communion of saints, of which we are part, and which we are growing into, the more and more we model our lives so that others see in us a likeness with God.

            Aside from the communion of saints, the other time we think about communion is of course when we share in the sacrament of bread and cup together. There are a few names for this holy meal. Some call it the Lord’s Supper. We sometimes call it the Eucharist, which means literally the Thanksgiving or more fully, thanksgiving for the good gift of grace. Sometimes it is called simply the Breaking of the Bread. But we most often call it communion, which means, “sharing in common.” This word for communion comes from Paul’s writings, in 1 Corinthians, when he says, “The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion (the sharing together in) the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion (the sharing together in) the body of Christ?” It is in this holy meal that we find that we have communion in so many senses of the words. We commune with God, and with the real presence of Christ as we embody Jesus in the meal and as we are sent forth from the table into the world to serve. We commune with our brothers and sisters in Christ too – across time and space. On World Communion Sunday, we particularly focus on our connection across space, meditating on how we are bound together by the sacrament with Christians all over the world. But on All Saints Sunday, we focus on how we are bound together across time. We come to the table just as our forefathers and foremothers in faith came to the table. Just as the early church did. Just as the disciples came together with Jesus. As we come to the table, we are bound together, sharing in common with them this holy meal, not just by remembering the past, but as we reflect on how we are bound together in the present, and how even our futures are bound together as we work for the fulfillment of God’s reign. And so as we share in this common meal, we are bound together with the very people who we have lifted up today.

            We’ve been focusing on being a prayerful congregation. And the whole service of communion is prayer. The special prayer we share in as we ask God to bless our communion is called the Great Thanksgiving. And indeed, our thanksgiving is great, as we reflect on the fullness of God’s grace in our lives, grace that binds us together in the body of Christ, with all the saints of God, past, and present, and yet to come. Thanks be to God for this communion. Amen.

Sermon, "Seven Habits of Highly Effective Disciples: Presence," Hebrews 10:19-25

Sermon 2/2/14

Hebrews 10:19-25

Seven Habits of Highly Effective Disciples: Presence

“As members of the body of Christ and in this congregation of The United Methodist Church, we will faithfully participate in the ministries of the church by our presence.”

            Many of you have heard me joke before that I consider a mildly overcast cloudy day with a low probability of precipitation to be my favorite weather for a Sunday. See, in my experience, you don’t want snowy weather, of course – slippery roads always impact worship attendance. You don’t want it to be too cold or too rainy either – hard to talk yourself out from under the covers on a day like that, when instead, you can worship at Church of the Divine Mattress. But you also don’t want it to be too nice out either. Sunny, gorgeous, warm days aren’t good for worship attendance either, when everyone decides they’d rather worship at the Church of the 18^th Hole instead. No, for optimal worship attendance, a mildly overcast day – not too cold, not too warm, not to sunny, not to snowy, but just right, like porridge for Goldilocks – that’s the perfect weather for everybody to show up for worship.

            Ok, I jest, a bit(!). We’re in the midst of sermon series on the 7 habits of highly effective disciples. We’ve talked about our life’s thesis statement – our purpose statement. And now we’re looking at our life’s supporting paragraphs, the evidence in our lives that proves our purpose. Last week we talked about prayer, and today, we’re talking about presence. Not presents as in gifts – that’s next week, actually. But rather, presence – as in – showing up.

            In some ways, this seems like the easiest one of all, doesn’t it? Support the Church by your presence? Well, you’re here, aren’t you? I mean, isn’t this sermon a bit like preaching to the choir? You’ve all come today to be in this time of worship when you could be home fixing your food for the Super Bowl, or recovering from last night’s ‘Cuse/Duke game. You’re here! You showed up! Done, right? And indeed, I’m thankful that you are here, that of all the things you could be doing, what you are doing now is gathering together with a group of journeyers on the way, praising God, and trying to listen for God’s direction in your life. That’s a part of showing up that means a lot. And when we make the vow to participate in the ministry of the church by our presence, actually showing up to worship and to ministry and mission events – that’s a very serious part of what we commit to doing. But it’s more than that.

            Today our scripture lesson is from the book of Hebrews. We don’t know who wrote Hebrews, which is really more of a sermon than a letter. But despite our not knowing who authored the text, we find in Hebrews some of the most moving sections in all of the scriptures. You’re probably most familiar with Hebrews 11: “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen,” which the author follows with a beautiful litany of how people responded to God and how we are called to do likewise: by faith, by faith, by faith.

But here in this section we find the author reminding us that because of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, we are able to draw even closer in relationship to God. We are able to come into God’s presence without a barrier, without a curtain that keeps us separated, as did the designs of the temple in Jerusalem that kept people away from the holiest place where it was thought God would dwell. Because of Jesus, we can claim the gift of being invited into God’s very presence. The author goes on to tell us how we ought to come into God’s presence though: by seeking to have a clean heart and a clear conscience, by holding fast to our faith, “provoking” one another to good deeds and loving actions – I love that language, that idea of provoking each other to do good – not normally how we try to provoke one another, is it? – and by meeting together, encouraging one another as we prepare our hearts and lives for God’s kingdom.

The scriptures attest to the gift of God’s presence. I think particularly of the recurring theme of thankfulness for God’s presence in the Psalms. Psalm 139 in my bible is titled, “The inescapable God.” I love that. The psalmist asks, “Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there. If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast.  If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light around me become night’, even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is as light to you.” In this case, the psalmist’s tone lets us know that sometimes he wishes he could escape God’s presence. But it isn’t possible. God is always with us. I’ve tried to stop in my prayers asking for God’s presence, because that’s a given, unchangeable; and instead I’m thanking God for God’s presence.

            In Jesus, we find the one who is God’s presence embodied, God-in-the-flesh. God, already ever-present, becoming one with us, because we still didn’t seem to get it – God’s inescapable presence. In the gospels we see Jesus demonstrate the power of being present. Yes, Jesus’ ministry was about his preaching, teaching, and healing. But I think one of the most powerful things Jesus did was spend time with people. He spent time with all kinds of people that most went out of their way to avoid. And in these instances, it isn’t always the content of the conversation between Jesus and the person that the gospel writers viewed as significant. It was the very act of Jesus spending time with others that was powerful. It was Jesus eating dinner with Zacchaeus. Jesus spending time talking to women as equals. Jesus spending time in regions filled with Gentiles. Jesus eating meals with Pharisees and sinners and prostitutes and tax collectors – Jesus honored them all with his presence, with his time, with conversation, with relationship, and made them feel, maybe for the first time ever, worth it. His presence was powerful. And so is ours! Giving someone the gift of your presence is just that – a gift you have to offer. A gift we too often withhold, intentionally or unintentionally.

I think of that commercial – I wasn’t sure even what product it is for and had to look it up to find this image (bad job commercial!) but I knew the “plot” of the commercial well. Schoolchildren are putting on a concert for their parents, singing, while the parents, with iPads and smartphones and cameras and other devices try to get the best shots and recordings of their kids performing. They get closer and closer and push and shove, all to capture the special moment – all of them, except, of course, the smug parents who have the cool technology that allows them a high-quality zoom without leaving their seats. The question I’m left with, though, is: was anyone actually listening to the concert? Don’t get me wrong. I love photography – it is an art form. But if we’re honest, most of us aren’t really photographers. I encountered this commercial coming to life when I attended Sam’s kindergarten graduation last year. Everyone, me included, was busy trying to record and photograph the graduation. I wonder how much we missed in the process! I mostly remember being frustrated with the kid who kept standing in front of Sam on the risers, blocking my good picture. It definitely isn’t just teenagers. And it isn’t just technology. Our dependence on our technological devices is just the current way we avoid being really present. Just the current way we put up a wall between us and everyone else. Everywhere you go, you see people who are at an event, with people, but they still aren’t really present. Their attention, their minds, their spirits are somewhere else entirely. There, but not really there. Are you present in your own life? Are you present here? In your relationship with God?

In my last Doctor of Ministry class, the one I took over the summer, the professor had us start each class by rating ourselves – in our notebooks, not out loud, but just for ourselves – on a few questions. And the first question was always, “On a scale of 1-10, how present am I today?” It was a helpful question to ask. Some mornings I was ready to go, excited. Some mornings I didn’t feel very present at first. But just asking the question reminded me that I wanted to be fully present to my classwork. Why would I bother spending money and time to take a class for a degree that I don’t have to have, unless I was going to be fully present for everything I was meant to be learning? I wanted to be present. And asking the question helped me remember that.  

            This week, I want you to ask yourself that same question. Not just at the start of the day, but several times a day. On a scale of 1-10, how present am I? You can start right now, in the quiet of your mind. On a scale of 1-10, how present are you in worship right now? And then ask yourself that question all week long. How present are you at work? At school? How present are you when you’re driving? When you are at the store? How present are you when you speak with your children or your parents or your spouse or your friends? How present are you at meetings? At church? When you volunteer? When you walk down the sidewalk? When you interact with a cashier? How present are you when you talk to God? When God is trying to talk to you? How present are you in your life?  

            Ask yourself that question, and see if you can figure out if you are showing up to life. What areas of your life do wish you were more present for? Can you start making sure that you are really present with your family? With friends? With those in need? In the life of this congregation? In your relationship with God?

            God is here. God is always here, and here is always wherever you are. And everything God does is an attempt to get us to show up too, to realize God’s presence, to be fully present ourselves, to invite others to start showing up too. God is here. Are you?

            Amen.

Sermon for Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost, "Let There Be Peace on Earth"

Sermon 8/29/10

Luke 14:1, 7-14, Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16

Let There Be Peace on Earth

"Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me; let there be peace on earth, the peace that was meant to be/ With God our creator, children all are we. Let us walk with each other in perfect harmony. Let peace begin with me; let this be the moment now. With every step I take, let this be my solemn vow: to take each moment and live each moment in peace eternally. Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me." This short and simple hymn takes seventh place in our congregation's top-ten hymn list.

According to their company, Jan-Lee Music, “Sy Miller and Jill Jackson were a husband and wife songwriting team, who, in 1955, wrote a song about their dream of peace for the world and how they believed each one of us could help create it.” Jill was a former actress, having starred in many Westerns in the 1930s, and Sy was a composer for Warner Brothers. Jill wrote lyrics. Sy composed music. “They first introduced [Let There Be Peace on Earth] to a group of teenagers selected from their high schools to attend a weeklong retreat in California. The young people were purposefully from different religious, racial, cultural and economic backgrounds, brought together to experiment with creating understanding and friendship through education, discussion groups, and living and working together in a camp situation.” Sy Miller describes how it happened:

He said, “One summer evening in 1955, a group of 180 teenagers of all races and religions, meeting at a workshop high in the California mountains locked arms, formed a circle and sang a song of peace. They felt that singing the song, with its simple basic sentiment – 'Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me,' helped to create a climate for world peace and understanding. When they came down from the mountain, these inspired young people brought the song with them and started sharing it. And, as though on wings, 'Let There Be Peace on Earth' began an amazing journey around the globe. It traveled first, of course, with the young campers back to their homes and schools, churches and clubs. Soon the circle started by the teenagers began to grow. Before long the song was being shared in all fifty states – at school graduations and at PTA meetings, at Christmas and Easter gatherings and as part of the celebration of Brotherhood Week. It was a theme for Veteran’s Day, Human Rights Day and United Nations Day. 4H Clubs and the United Auto Workers began singing it . . . It was taped, recorded, copied, printed in songbooks, and passed by word of mouth. The song spread overseas [and around the world.]” (2)

For Jill Jackson, the song had a more personal meaning. According to peacehistory.org, Jackson spoke of her early life—how she became an orphan as a young girl, and her difficult journey through foster care, that led her into despair and attempted suicide. She describes that it was then that she realized the presence of a higher power in her life and how she eventually came to [develop] the song. She said, “When I attempted suicide and I didn't succeed, I knew for the first time unconditional love—which God is. God is unconditional love. You are totally loved, totally accepted, just the way you are. In that moment I was not allowed to die, and something happened to me which is very difficult to explain. I had an eternal moment of truth, in which I knew I was loved, and knew I was here for a purpose." (2)

“Let There Be Peace on Earth was awarded the George Washington Honor Medal by the Freedoms Foundation at Valley Forge for “Outstanding achievement in helping to bring about a better understanding of the American Way of Life.” It also received a Brotherhood Award from the National Conference of Christians and Jews.” In Sy Miller’s words again: ‘This simple thought, 'Let There Be Peace on Earth, and Let It Begin With Me' first born on a mountain top in the voices of youth, continues to travel heart to heart – gathering in people everywhere who wish to become a note in a song of understanding and peace—peace for all [human]kind." (1)

So today we have this peace song, and we also have our gospel lesson from Luke. Jesus is giving something of an etiquette lesson, with, of course, his own unique spin. He’s at the house of one of the leaders of the Pharisees, eating a Sabbath meal, and we read that he’s being closely observed by those who are there. No doubt, some of the religious leaders are just looking for Jesus to do or say something that they can criticize. But Jesus is also closely observing the guests. We frequently see Jesus at meals in the gospels, and he often uses mealtime as a teaching time. He watches how the social hierarchy plays out at meals. He sees people wanting the seats of highest honor. People sit according to status, and everyone seems eager to show off how important they are by where they’re sitting.

But Jesus tells people to do just the opposite of what they would normally: When you're invited over to a wedding banquet - don't choose the best place - choose the worst. Why? Well, you don't want to be embarrassed and asked to move to a lower place so a more important guest can take a seat! Those who exalt themselves are humbled, but those who humble themselves are exalted. In the next example, Jesus advises that those who host a dinner should not invite relatives, friends, and rich neighbors, but should instead invited the poor, crippled, lame, and blind, those unable to return an invitation. Don't look for repayment from humans, Jesus urges, but from God, whose rewards much more valuable.

Jesus' advice, as usual, goes against some traditional understandings his dinner guests would have had. His suggestions might sound to us just like savvy suggestions for maintaining a good public image. But actually, behaving as Jesus suggested - choosing the lowest seat at a meal, missing an opportunity for recognition by inviting less-than-classy people to a meal - these actions would have made a person seem quite odd if not altogether offensive. It's hard to find something to compare this to today - our culture and customs are so different. But actually, maybe we can relate. At today’s wedding receptions, guests are often seated at numbered tables in assigned groups. The wedding party sits at the front table. The other guests are seated usually based on relationship to the bridge and groom. Family and close friends are at tables close to the front table. Those who are acquaintances are likely to be farther away from the action of the reception. Perhaps we can connect to Jesus' words after all.

But what does this parable have to do with peace? Well, what I like about Jesus’ teachings is that what he teaches is something you can do. Conversely, we should also note that Jesus never instructs you to tell someone else how to do it to do it right. Jesus tells you to go sit at the lowest place, you to humble yourself, you to invite the poor and the lame and the blind to your meals. He doesn’t tell you to tell others to do it. He tells you how to do it, live it. Now, I don’t mean that what he teaches isn’t challenging, that it doesn’t require us to change our lives. But what I mean is: what Jesus teaches is always within our grasp to do. It doesn’t require committee meetings or organizations or institutions. If we actually just did what Jesus said to do – well, the world would very quickly be a different place. But what Jesus says to do doesn’t require some special skill set. It doesn’t require a certain degree or level of education. You don’t need training to follow Jesus’ instructions. You don’t need to be a certain age – you won’t be too young or too old to follow Jesus’ instructions here. You just have to listen to what he says, and do it. And here’s the thing: if everybody did it – well, imagine what might happen, what might be possible.

For me, the key to our hymn this week about peace on earth – well, it’s the second part of the first line that’s so important. “Let it begin with me.” When my brothers and I would get into arguments growing up, (which we never do anymore, of course) my mother would often say, “How can we expect there to be peace in the world, if we can’t have peace in our home?” Of course, this would induce some secret eye-rolling in us – at least we agreed on that – but I’ve always remembered it. How can we have peace in the world, if we can’t have peace in our home? In other words, why would we expect the whole world to do something that we’re not willing to do ourselves? When Sy Miller and Jill Jackson worked on this hymn, they did it with a group of teenagers who were ready let peace begin with them. And so they were able to transcend all the differences in their group – different religions, genders, races, classes – and together, because each person was committed to the task – they made a space of peace, and shared a song of peace that truly has spread around the globe.

I’m generally not a fan of saying that something is “between me and God.” What’s between me and God, according to Jesus, is all of our neighbors. But here’s one way we can be self-centered: Let it begin with you. It is to you that Jesus is talking when he teaches. It is only you that you can change. It is only you who can make you follow Jesus’ teaches. Let there be peace on earth. Let there be disciples who follow Jesus. Let there be people who humble themselves so that others might finally be exalted. Let there be those who reach beyond all that boundaries and barriers we create between ourselves. And let it begin with you, with me. Amen.

 (1) http://www.jan-leemusic.com/Site/History.html

(2) http://www.rotaryfirst100.org/library/music/peace.htm

Sermon for Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost, "Here I Am, Lord"

Sermon 8/8/10

Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16

Here I Am, Lord

            Today we’re talking about a hymn that tied for fourth place in our Top Ten list, “Here I am, Lord.” Like we talked about with On Eagle’s Wings, Here I Am, Lord is also a song that is a product of a time of musical renewal after Vatican II in the Roman Catholic Church, when changes made allowed the Mass to be celebrated in the language of the people, and music to be more reflective of contemporary styles. The author is Dan Schutte, who wrote these words in the 1980s. Schutte was a founding member of the St. Louis Jesuits, a group of Catholic Jesuit musicians who focused on comteporary music for worship. Dan himself shares on his website what let him to write “Here I Am, Lord.”

            He says: When I was a young Jesuit, studying theology in Berkeley, California, a friend came to me one day asked me for a favor. "Dan, I know this is late notice, but I’m planning the diaconate ordination ceremony and need a piece of music set to the text of Isaiah chapter 6." He saw the look of shock on my face knowing I was well aware that the ceremony was only three days away. I told him that I was sick with an awful case of the flu and didn’t know if I could compose anything suitable in that short time. He encouraged me and I told him that at the very least I would try to complete something in time for the ordination.

I had always loved the particular Scripture passage (Isaiah 6) where God calls Isaiah to be his servant and messenger to the people and Isaiah responds with both hesitation and doubt, but also with a humble willingness to surrender to God. If it was going to work, it would have to be God's power and grace making it happen. Much like Isaiah I was not very sure that I could meet the request my friend had made, but I was willing to try.

I remember sitting at my desk with a blank music score in front of me and asking God to be my strength. As I sat there praying for help, I remembered also the call of Samuel, where God came calling in the middle of the night and asked Samuel to do something beyond what he thought he was capable of. I worked for two days on the piece and I remember being exhausted. I was making last minute changes to the score as I walked it over to my friend who lived several blocks away. I remember being very unsure of myself, but hoping that it would be what he had wanted for the ordination. And it was ok. It was more than ok. From the very beginning, people loved the piece and clearly identified with the dialogue between God and us that is the core of the song. In the years following, so many have spoken to me or written how they had their own experience of God "calling in the night" and being given the courage to respond.

For me, the story of “Here I Am, Lord” tells of the God who overshadows us, giving power to our stumbling words and the simple works of our hands, and making them into something that can be a grace for people. The power God gives is far beyond what we could have planned or created.

            Our epistle lesson for today from Hebrews is a chapter full of people who responded to God’s calling in the night with a bold, “Here I Am, Lord” – send me! In elemnatary school, at one of those end-of-the-year Children’s Sunday programs, my class was responsible for each student picking out and reading a favorite Bible passage. This passage from Hebrews was one of my favorites and one that I chose to read. Something appealed to me about the poetry of this passage – the repeated rhythms of “by faith, by faith, by faith,” and all the Bible stories I knew seemingly wrapped into one. In today’s selection we get a cut. We start out with perhaps the most famous verse about faith in the whole Bible. The author’s definintion: “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the convication of things not seen.” Then the author continues, describing the faith of the ancestors – here we read of Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Jacob, but the author also writes of Abel, Noah, Enoch, David, Gideon, Samson, and others. It is a litany of faith, of those who responded to God’s call by faith.

            What do we do by faith? And how do we hear and respond to God’s call faithfully? I think that we do things by faith every single day. Beyond trusting that it is the wind that we can’t see that makes the breeze, I think it takes an amazing amount of faith just to live in this world. Sometimes I think about driving a car, and the amount of faith it takes to trust that the hundreds, maybe thousands of cars we pass will all stay in the right lane. We have to have faith in all those drivers. We usually don’t even give it much thought, and yet we’re putting our faith in other human beings who we’ve never even met. I think we perform similar acts of faith every day, in the everyday things of our lives.

            And yet, when it comes to having faith in God, we’re challenged. We’re overwhelmed. We’re full of doubts. We feel like we’re not up to what God asks of us. We’re not sure God really calls us, and we’re definitely not sure how to respond to that call. If we can have faith in each other, most of the time anyway, why is having faith in God so hard? Why is believing that God calls us so hard? I’m starting to think that part of the problem is that we make faith, God’s call, answering God’s call, such a special, unique thing in our minds. It’s kind of the same problem we have with prayer. Remember, when we talked about prayer earlier this summer, we talked about how prayer is just that – talking. It’s just that we’re talking to God. But we give prayer that special name and add all this pressure to be perfect and eloquent, and we’re suddenly a mess about talking to God. I think maybe it is the same way with faith, and answering God’s call. We have faith in things all the time. And we’re looking for direction, meaning, all the time. And then God enters, putting faith in us, seeking faith in return, and trying to give us direction, and we’re suddenly a mess.

            So why is having faith in God so hard? I think maybe we equate 'having faith in God' with the belief that God will make sure everything goes smoothly in our lives. If we only have faith, we will prosper. If we only have faith, we will be protected from harm, from evil, from disaster, from pain and loss. We set ourselves up to believe that our faith in God is actually faith in God as a sort-of guardian angel or something. But we limit ourselves and our faith, and we certainly limit God with that view of faith. For better or worse, faith in God does not guarantee us some shield of protection - at least not the kind that prevents bad things from happening in our lives. I've seen many people come to struggle and have doubts in faith because of a death of a loved one, because of loss or hardships suffered, seeing these events as a sign that God is not really there, or God does not really care, signs that faith in God is not warranted. If we’re trying to have faith in God as guardian angel, our faith will disappoint us!

But our whole biblical witness calls out to us that this is not what faith is, or what faith has been through the ages. Jesus tries to warn us throughout his teaching that our faith in God will likely cause us suffering, persecution, and bad intentions from those around us - our faith in God is no promise of a contented life, at least by society's standards. Indeed, if you read over today's passage from Hebrews, and read the rest of the chapter that we didn’t read this morning, you'll see a litany of people who had faith in God but who did not exactly have the most peaceful lives as a result. Abel is mentioned as a man of faith, and Abel was murdered by his own brother because of his faith and his brother's lack of faith. Moses had faith to lead the people from Egypt, yet never made it to the Promised Land that God described. And the author mentions the countless others who, in faith, were tortured, flogged, imprisoned, or killed throughout Christian history. On top of that, we read: “All of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them.” This is what your faith may bring you!

But before we get discouraged and figure that maybe we don’t want faith, we must turn back to the question. What is our faith all about? Our faith is in God – not God's magical powers to bless us – but in God and God's never-ending unfailing love for us. It is our faith in God, our knowledge that God loves us that gives us strength even when we have made mistakes, have sinned, have caused pain and hurt to our neighbors. It is our faith that supports us even when our lives are filled with loss or stress or worry or hardships. Our faith is in our God, that God is always with us and loving us, no matter what. It’s pretty hard to find that love anywhere else. It is faith like this that allows us to take the life-changing risks like those that the people of faith recorded in Hebrews took. They risked home, family, status, all their possession, security, shelter, even their very lives to follow God's call because in their faith they knew that God loved them and God would go with them.

Answering God’s call is actually pretty simple. We need direction. God offers one. God says, “Here I am. Where are you?” And we respond: “Here we are, God.” We follow, answer, not because we are guaranteed success in every detail, but because our faith prompts us to share the love of God that we have with others. Our hymn today is about faith and where faith will lead us. If we insist that our faith in God guarantee our protection, guarantee things go a certain way for us, our faith probably won't take us very far. But if we realize our faith in God provides us with what we really need: the knowledge of God's loving presence – then there's no limit to where God will take us.

Here I am, Lord. Is it we, Lord? I have heard you calling in the night. I will go, Lord, if you lead me. I will hold your people in my heart. Amen.