Sermon for Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Year C, "The Life that Really is Life," 1 Timothy 6:6-19

*I'm quite(!) delayed in posting this sermon, but I'm finally getting to it.

Sermon 9/25/22

1 Timothy 6:6-19

The Life That Really Is Life

Our text for today ends with a phrase I find so compelling, so thought-provoking. We’ll come back to what leads into it, but for now, we’re beginning with the ending. The author, a mentor writing to encourage a younger, emerging ministry leader, finishes this section with these words, this aimed-for conclusion:  “so that they may take hold of the life that really is life.” “Take hold of the life that really is life.” This is the goal. Now we have to figure out how our mentor tells us we disciples should get there. The phrase “life that really is life” implies that there is life that isn’t really life, and that we can, without realizing it, settle for this other life, this non-real-life life. Timothy’s mentor suggests that he knows how to tell the difference between non-real-life, and life that is really life, and how, then, to claim the life that really is life. 

So, do you have hold of the life that really is life? A couple of things pop into my mind. First, I think of great movie from the 1990s, The Truman Show. How many of you have seen that? One of Jim Carrey’s better films, the premise is that this man, Truman, unbeknownst to him, has been the star of a TV show his whole life. Everything in his life is a fake, so people could enjoy watching his life unfold for entertainment. Eventually, Truman realizes that his life isn’t really real life. And although the TV studio creator tries to convince him that this “fake” world Truman lives in is better, safe, less hurtful than life in the “real world,” Truman would rather take his changes. He doesn’t want a glossy masquerade of life, even if it is easier. He wants real life. 

Another piece of media: One episode of the TV show Scrubs featured a beautiful song by Colin Hay called “Waiting for my Real Life to Begin.” In the song, the narrator imagines themselves in different scenes - just about to leave on a ship and sail away, just about to slay a dragon and prove the hero. He’s just waiting, waiting for the “just about” to happen, waiting for real life to begin. But in the meantime, the person to whom he’s singing keeps urging the singer to live in the now. The lyrics go: “And you say, be still my love / Open up your heart / Let the light shine in / But don't you understand / I already have a plan / I'm waiting for my real life to begin. And you say, just be here now / Forget about the past, your mask is wearing thin / Just let me throw one more dice / I know that I can win / I'm waiting for my real life to begin. In this case, the sense we get as listeners is that while the narrator is waiting for his “real life” to begin, his actual real life, including an actual real person who loves him, is just passing him by. In both these examples, there is, as there is in our scripture text, a sense that there’s real life to be had, but that there are also many ways we settle for lives made up of illusions. How can we take hold of the life that really is life? 

Timothy’s mentor has some ideas for him about taking hold of this life that really is life. A key, I think, is in the verse first of our reading. We experience great gain in life when we pursue godliness - which means a life marked by devotion, piety, attention to God; and we experience great gain when we cultivate contentment in our life. Godliness and contentment.  Godliness isn’t a very common word for us to use anymore to describe ourselves, or others, and I think the strangeness of the world can make it feel like something we can’t pursue or achieve. Something meant only for holy and pious people - not us, not regular, ordinary people. But I see godliness as immersing ourselves in our relationship with God, tending to our relationship with God, tending to our spiritual lives. Of course, being part of a faith community is a way we can tend to our spiritual lives. The author wraps up godliness with words like faith, love, endurance, and gentleness. I think it is a way we connect with God and with one another. How are we tending to our souls on a regular basis so that we are forming our characters, practicing love until it is a habit? Godliness is just that, I think: a habit. We’re always making habits of actions and behaviors. But what actions, what behaviors are we making into habits? Godliness is a habit of waiting on God, listening for God’s voice, seeking after God, through prayer, through worship, through being part of a community of faith, through loving like Jesus loves. And godliness, our author says, is part of the path to the life that really is life. 

The other part - and that part where our author really spends his time, is contentment. To experience great gain, to really live, we must be content. I think we hear the word content and we think “happy,” but contentment is something a little deeper than we usually mean - or achieve - by chasing happiness. Contentment is deep satisfaction. It is a feeling that you already have everything you need to be satisfied with your life. Contentment means you aren’t ruled by what you want, what you think you need. It means your focus isn’t on getting more, and more, and more. Instead, contentment is a deep feeling of enough. Not just barely enough. But enough that your life feels quite full, complete. Content.

Ironically, the more stuff we have, the more money we have, the richer in things we are, the more difficult it is to experience contentment. That’s what our mentor warns about repeatedly in our text. “We brought nothing into the world, and we take nothing out.” “Those who want to be rich are tempted and trapped by senseless and harmful desires that lead to destruction. “The love of money is a root of all kinds of evil.” “In their eagerness to be rich, many wander away from faith.” “The rich shouldn’t be haughty.” “Don’t depend on riches.” “Only what God gives us makes us rich.” “Be rich in good works. Be generous. Be ready to share. Store up eternal treasure.” I count nearly 8 different sentences in this passage warning us that collecting things and money are more likely to lead us away from contentment than toward it. New Testament scholar A.K.M. Adam says that “the insatiable appetite for wealth narrows [our] field of vision; when [we gaze] fixedly at wealth, [we] cannot look around at [our] neighbors who demonstrate that riches are not necessary for abundant life.” (1) Instead of increasing our options, the pursuit of wealth limits our abilities when it comes to our ability to draw closer to God and one another, our ability to serve God and neighbor with our whole hearts. Whatever energy we spend seeking after accumulating more stuff, more wealth, more status, is heart and soul that we can’t spend seeking after God and God’s ways. Whether we consider ourselves wealthy or not, most of us are sure we’d be happier if we could at least get a little more. But the relentless pursuit of a little more and a little more means that we’re never content. It’s never enough. And if we’re never content? Then have we ever taken hold of the life that is really life?

We can read the mentor’s words to Timothy as I think they are meant to be - words a loving, wise, older friend or relative or guide wants to impart to a young person, one getting started, perhaps, in the next phase of life, so anxious to help them understand what’s really important in life, so wishing to help them thrive, to find joy. (2) The mentor wants Timothy to experience the life that really is life. What wisdom would you share with a young person just starting out about what really matters in life? What would you tell them is the most important thing to spend your time, your heart, your life pursuing? What would you tell them has brought you the deepest, most lasting joy? What would you tell them has brought you closest to God? And then, friends, are we spending our days following our own advice? Let us, too, set our hope, set our hearts, on God, who richly provides us with all we need to be content, and with that strong foundation, let us take hold of the life that really is life. Amen. 

1. A.K.M. Adam, “Commentary on 1 Timothy 6:6-19,” The Working Preacher, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-26-3/commentary-on-1-timothy-66-19

2. H/T to Sunggu Yang for this line of thinking, “Commentary on 1 Timothy 6:6-19,” The Working Preacher, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-26-3/commentary-on-1-timothy-66-19-5 

Sermon for the Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Year C, "God is Change," Exodus 32:7-14

Sermon 9/6/22

Exodus 32:7-14

God is Change*

I’m not sure our scripture text for today has made it onto many “favorite Bible passage” lists. I know it is not on mine! In this text, we see God’s reaction to what’s going on at the bottom of the mountain, the mountain where God has been talking to Moses, giving the law that will govern the people that God has just rescued from slavery in Egypt and led to “freedom.” What’s going on down at the bottom of the mountain, of course, is that the people, feeling abandoned by God and by Moses, come to Moses’s brother Aaron lamenting, “We don’t know what’s happened to that Moses guy who we’ve been following. He ditched us without explanation. So, please, make us some gods who will lead us, because we seem to have been left by the God we were following.” Aaron complies, and makes a golden calf, crafted from the donations of gold jewelry from all the people, perhaps items that were symbols of their enslavement. He declares the calf to represent the gods who have redeemed Israel, and the people celebrate with a festival day. 

Our text begins with God realizing what’s going on at the bottom of the mountain. God tell Moses: “Quick, get back down the mountain. Your people who you brought out of Egypt are acting perversely. They’ve quickly abandoned the path I set for them. So, go back down to them, these stiff-necked people, and leave me alone, so I can hang out and be full of wrath and plan how I’m going to consume them all. Don’t worry, though, I’ll still make you into a great nation.” (1)  

Moses, though, doesn’t take God up on this offer. Instead, as is Moses’s habit, he settles in for a good argument with God. Moses makes sure God remembers whose people these are. “God, why does your wrath burn against your people, the people you brought out of Egypt?” And Moses flatters God into wanting to save face in front of other nations: “Hey God, you don’t want the Egyptians to say you were a bad, evil God, right?” And Moses reminds God of history: “Hey, God, remember Abraham and Issac and Israel and your promises to them?” And Moses tells God: “You can change your mind about this.” And God does. God changes God’s mind. And the author of our text clearly takes a point of view - God changes God’s mind about God’s people. 

Like I said, I’m not sure how many people count this text as a favorite passage, because it is kind of troubling, isn’t it? Although there are plenty of biblical passages that mention God’s wrath, God’s anger, God wanting to punish, I know I’d mostly rather think about God’s love, God’s peace, God’s call to community. And here, God’s wrath and punishment isn’t even directed at enemies of God’s people, where we could at least get some satisfaction about seeing our enemies get their due. No, here God wants to ditch God’s people and start fresh with some new people for Moses, and Moses, the human Moses, has to talk the God of the Universe out of it, talk God down, calm God down, remind God of God’s promises. Troubling. 

So troubling, in fact, that many of the commentaries I looked at don’t really mention the content of our passage today in articles meant to be about our passage. Several commentaries focus on the “golden calf” scene of verses 1-6, even though they aren’t a part of the lectionary reading. The commentaries focus on our human sinfulness and propensity for idolatry. They have very little to say about God’s response, God’s behavior. Some scholars sympathize with the fear that the people probably felt, the trauma they’ve endured, and suggest a gracious response toward the people in our preaching to all that they’ve been through. But what they don't do is address how God responds in this text of ours, how Moses must plead with God for mercy. In fact, many commentaries don’t directly address God’s response in this text at all. I can only conclude that they avoid mentioning it because they don’t know what to do with a God who doesn’t fit the picture of God we have. Best just not to think about it. 

I can relate. I don’t think it ever gets easy to have our picture of someone be troubled by conflicted information, much less our picture of God. God is supposed to be our Rock. Dependable. Never wavering. The One on whom we can count no matter what. But what if God is inconsistent? What if God changes on us? How can we depend on a God like that? This isn’t a new question, of course, and the scriptures, naturally, don’t have a single answer. In contrast to our reading today, for example, 1 Samuel includes a verse which explicitly states: “[God] will not recant or change God’s mind; for God is not a mortal, that God should change God’s mind,” (1 Sam 15:29) almost implying that even questioning such is ludicrous. Many traditions proclaim that “God is the same yesterday today and forever,” a claim based on a verse from Hebrews (13:8) about Jesus. And God’s Immutability - God’s unchanging nature - is a teaching that is still a part of many Christian traditions. 

Still, ever since I took Process Theology with Dr. Keller during my time as an MDiv student some years ago, I feel like I’ve embraced a God who changes, that I desire a God who changes, who is responsive, who responds to the world, perhaps even responds to me, not with rigidity but fluidity. Passages like this, though, make me wonder if I’m really so ready for a Changing God as I say. Because this God doesn’t just change. God “relents” from wanting to destroy, to kill, to punish, to wipe us out. “And God changed their mind about the disaster they planned to bring on their people,” we read. Just barely shy of saying, “And God repented.” That’s how we often describe repentance, isn’t it? A change of direction? A change of mind? Reversing the course of our mind, our thoughts, our actions? Can we depend on a God who changes their mind? 

I think our impulse - my impulse at least, and maybe that of the commentaries I read this week - is to figure out how to let God off the hook of these difficult questions. But Moses never lets God off the hook here. Moses holds God to the high standard promised by God. Moses demands that God be all that God has promised to be. Although Moses has his own hot rage to reckon with later in this very chapter, Moses doesn’t hesitate to question God, demand of God, expect from God. Perhaps we can give ourselves permission to keep God on the hook, and ask God our toughest questions, and remind God of God’s promises to us. 

And then, we can follow God’s example. One of God’s repeated complaints about the people is that they are stiff-necked, or hard-hearted. Those sound to me like complaints about our unwillingness to be moved, to be changed. God changes. God relents. God, dare we say, repents. And every time I see a notation made about God changing their mind in the scripture, it is in the direction of mercy. When God changes their mind about a course of action, it is in order to forgive after all, to save after all, to continue a relationship after all, to offer grace after all. Do we change? And when we change, are we changing in the direction of mercy? If we’re meant to follow God, to imitate God, to try to pattern our lives after God, and God is a God who changes, then perhaps our biggest task is to learn how to change too. To relent. To soften our hard hearts. To repent, too. God doesn’t ask us to do what God doesn’t already do, already demonstrates for us. God changes. Will we? 

Friends, may we, like Moses, be persistent with God, wrestling with God for every drop of mercy promised, for every measure of grace - not only for ourselves, but for all who need it. And then let us do likewise: let us change, becoming people of mercy and grace, deeply moved by the world in which we live. 

“And then … God changed their mind.” Thanks be to God. Amen. 

* The title for this sermon comes from Octavia Butler's Parable of the Sower. 

1. Rolf Jacobson makes note of this “your people” focus in “Commentary on Exodus 32:7-14,” The Working Preacher. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-24-3/commentary-on-exodus-327-14

Sermon, "Discipleship by the Sea: Encounter," Mark 14:26-28, 16:7

Sermon 8/14/22

Mark 14:26-28, 16:7

Encounter

Pastor Beckie has shared with me that you’ve been in the midst of a worship series focused on “Discipleship by the Sea,” and she invited me to take up this week’s theme: encounter. I’ll admit that I’m a bit of a language nerd - I’m really fascinated by the meaning of words and how words can have similar meanings but with slight differences that communicate a different tone. And so when I read this week’s theme: Encounter - I was intrigued. I think of “encounter” as a simple meeting between different people or groups. An encounter. But I looked up different meanings of the word, and indeed, there are some nuances that set the broader word apart from the word “meeting.” Although “encounter” can mean just a casual meeting, it often has the sense of unexpectedness. If you encounter someone in your travels, the implication is that the meeting was unexpected or unplanned. The movie Close Encounter of the Third Kind might pop into your head - encounters with alien life would certainly fall for most into the unexpected category. “Encounter” can also imply an unexpected situation that is difficult or in some way hostile. For example, “we encountered an issue” suggests that this unexpected issue is not good, not a desired encounter. (1) Have you had these kinds of encounters? What comes to my mind is a time I was walking at Green Lakes State Park in Fayetteville, and I encountered a porcupine, walking directly on the footpath coming toward me. This encounter met all of the potential meanings - an unexpected meeting that was difficult, perhaps hostile. To make things worse, a runner coming from the opposite direction failed to notice the porcupine, and kept barrelling closer to me, completely oblivious, which in turn was causing the porcupine to pick up its pace. Thankfully, at the last minute, the porcupine veered off the path and into the woods. Phew! An unexpected, undesirable encounter. 

So what does it mean when we think about encounters in our life and discipleship with Jesus. Hopefully, something less prickly than a surprised porcupine! Our scripture texts, short snippets, give us just a glimpse at encounters. In fact, both texts primarily refer to anticipated but not yet actual encounters. In Mark 14, we find ourselves in the midst of the passion narrative - during what we call Holy Week. It’s what we call Maundy Thursday. Jesus and the disciples are at the Mount of Olives. They’ve shared, earlier, in the last supper. They’ve sung a hymn together, possibly a traditional Passover Psalm, like Psalm 114 that talks about “the seas turning back, rivers fleeing, rocks turning into pools of water, and flint becoming springs.” (2) And now, Jesus says to them: “You’re all going to desert me. It’s like what is written: When someone strikes the shepherd, the sheep scatter.” This time, this encounter with Jesus takes an unexpected turn. The disciples are undoubtedly shocked at Jesus’s words. We should note, too: although Jesus eventually singles out Peter and Judas for their impending denial and betrayal, Jesus calls out all the disciples, suggesting none of them will stick by his side consistently. But still, despite Jesus’s words, the most shocking part of all, perhaps, when we really let sink in what Jesus has just said to them is what he says next: “But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.” There’s a future encounter that Jesus is planning, despite the fact that the disciples are about to abandon him now and he  knows it. When things get hard, the disciples will not stick with Jesus, and he knows it, and still - he’s looking forward to what comes next, what comes beyond their darkest moments, to a season of return and recommitment. They’re about to abandon Jesus, but what is on his mind is a future encounter, where they will understand better what he’s been talking about, and where, in some ways, their true discipleship will really begin. 

I don’t know about you: but I’ll confess that when I think I’m about to be deserted, betrayed, abandoned by people, the last thing that’s on my heart to do is tell them how great it will be when we meet up in the future. This year was my twenty-fifth class reunion. I couldn’t attend, but it made me think a lot about how I feel when I run into various people from my past, people I haven’t seen in decades. Have you had that happen? You notice someone in the grocery store or on the street that you haven’t seen in years, and you have to decide: do you go over and say hello, or do you pretend you didn’t see them? Your response might depend on what your last interaction was like. I have some high school classmates where I’ll admit, I’d probably skulk away and try to remain unnoticed if I saw them! 

But that’s not the way of Jesus with his disciples. Hours before they leave Jesus devastatingly abandoned, he’s already planning on when he’ll see them next, promising a future encounter. And then this promise is echoed again at his resurrection. The women, encountering the unexpected - the empty tomb - are greeted by messengers in white who tell them to let all the other disciples know that they’ll be encountering Jesus again, in Galilee, just as he promised. In their darkest moments of grief, just like in their darkest moments of desertion and betrayal, Jesus makes sure the disciples know that what seems like the worst thing isn’t the last thing, it isn’t the end at all. There are future encounters with Jesus yet to come. What a relief! What a comfort! What a promise! 

Friends, there are so many places where we encounter messages like, “Last chance - act now” and “Time’s running out” and “Once in a lifetime opportunity.” Maybe there are some things where those dire messages are true, and we’ll never have the chance again to take some opportunity or make things right. But that’s not the way of Jesus. Jesus says, “I already know you’re going to desert me. Not just Peter, not just Judas. All of you. And even so: this is not our last encounter. We’ll meet again. There are more encounters to come. I’ll extend an invitation again.” Of course, even though Jesus promises more encounters, we don’t have to keep taking the second chance. We can act now. We can show up for Jesus right now, commit to discipleship now. A life lived as a follower of Jesus - that’s an abundant life worth living. But if we’ve had some encounters with the living God where we weren’t our best; if we have promised to follow Jesus with our whole hearts only to abandon him when things were hard; if we’ve missed out on Jesus’s call to us, then take heart. Even at our worst, Jesus promises we’ll meet again, and again, and always. Amen. 

1. Definitions from google.com

2. Imagery from Marcia McFee, Worship Design Studio (designer of the sermon series of which this sermon is part.) 

Sermon, "CreatureKind," Isaiah 11:1-9

Sermon 7/31/22

Isaiah 11:1-9

CreatureKind

I’m thankful for Pastor Joyce’s invitation not just to be with you in worship today, but also, more specifically, to talk to you about what led me to become a vegan and to commit to a focus on animals in my studies. I first became a vegetarian in college, years before I became a pastor, but in all of my years of ministry, I’ve never actually focused on why I’ve chosen the path of veganism in a sermon, and so Pastor Joyce’s invitation was a welcome request to think about sharing a passion in this particular way. Because indeed, for me, veganism is a spiritual commitment, and a part of expression of faith. 

Before I dive into this topic, though, I want to try to set you at ease. Food - what we choose to eat and why - that’s a really intimate topic. Even though we all eat, every day, for a variety of reasons, what we choose to eat is a topic that has been burdened with a lot of expectation and pressure from society and culture, from our well-meaning friends and family, and from ourselves. We wrap together what we eat with what we’re worth. We judge the food choices of others and we certainly judge ourselves. We struggle with disordered eating. And we blanket food with shame. I want to be clear that although I’m sharing about my journey, and how my relationship with food and animals is part of my faith commitments, I do not seek to shame or judge anyone who makes different choices than me. Food is a necessary part of life. But food, nourishment, is also a gift from God, and a source of joy, a blessing of community. My hope is that we all might experience food as just those things.

I first became interested in animal ethics when I was in high school. My older brother Jim had recently become a vegetarian. I was curious about his decision, and he told me he knew he wasn’t willing to kill his own food, and if he wasn’t willing to do the work of bringing meat to his plate, he didn’t want to eat it. He felt like we, particularly in the US, were disconnected from where our food comes from. I kept thinking about that, and watched him shift what he was eating, and then when I was a freshman in college, I followed in his footsteps and made the switch. My initial motivations, then, weren’t particularly spiritual in nature, but I quickly started to think about my decision in terms of my faith, because that’s what I tried to do with all of my life decisions: consider what God was calling me to do. 

The Bible has lots of different messages about animals. In the creation accounts in Genesis, God directs people to eat plants, but not animals. After the flood though, God says people can eat animals too. There are many laws described in the Torah, the first five books of the Bible, that give specific instructions for animal sacrifice as an offering to God, or for animals that are off limits to eat, considered unclean for one reason or another. Animals are included in Sabbath rest. In the text from Isaiah we shared today, the prophet imagines a future of peace, symbolized by loving relationships between animals and humans and predators and prey. When the prophet Jonah is sent to Nineveh to warn them of God’s judgment, humans and animals alike engage in acts of repentance. In the gospels, Jesus multiplies fish and loaves for the crowds, and directs his followers on fishing practices. He talks about the value of birds and flowers to God. Paul writes about the whole creation waiting with eager longing for redemption. Peter has a vision where God tells him he can eat animals that Peter thought unclean, for the sake of building relationships with new Gentile followers of Jesus. There’s no single message about animals in the Bible. But, they’re obviously important, since they’re mentioned so frequently. And God created them and called them good. So what can the role of animals in the BIble tell us? What can we conclude about our relationship with animals? 

Several years ago, I was presenting a sermon series on women in the Bible and I was preaching about Deborah and Jael in the book of Judges. Jael, if you aren’t familiar, is the woman who helps Deborah and the Israelites to victory by driving a tent peg through the skull of the sleeping military commander who was taking refuge in her tent. A very pleasant story. And I was struggling to figure out what to say about this memorable passage: what “lesson” did I want people to take away. And one of my colleagues reminded me that my task is to make sure I’m sharing the “good news” in the text, wherever it is to be found. That simple reminder helped me a lot that Sunday, and has helped me a lot in my preaching life since then. When we read a text, where’s the good news - the gospel - the message of Jesus? Where’s the message of God’s unconditional love? Where’s the transformational power of God’s reign on earth, right here and now? Where’s the good news? 

When I come to the scriptures thinking about animals, I have, at heart, the same question. Where’s the good news for animals? Is there good news for animals? If animals aren’t included in good news, why are they left out? And if they are, what does that look like? The founder of the Methodist movement, John Wesley, actually had something to say about my questions. Surprising to even to this staunch United Methodist, I learned just in the last couple of years that John Wesley spent significant time exploring the place of animals in the New Creation, the reign of God, in a sermon dedicated to the topic titled, “The General Deliverance.” Wesley insists that creatures have a place in heaven, where they, like human creatures, experience renewal and restoration. He writes, 

The whole brute creation will then, undoubtedly, be restored, not only to the vigour, strength, and swiftness which they had at their creation, but to a far higher degree of each than they ever enjoyed. They will be restored, not only to that measure of understanding which they had in paradise, but to a degree of it as much higher than that ...  The liberty they then had will be completely restored, and they will be free in all their motions … No rage will be found in any creature, no fierceness, no cruelty, or thirst for blood. (1) 

So, Wesley argues that: all animals are restored completely to their full selves in the new earth - not even just to the form and life they had in paradise, but something even better than that. They’ll be freed from both being recipients and perpetrators of cruelty. The suffering animals experience on earth will cease to exist in the new earth and heavens, and animals will experience “happiness suited to their state” “without end.” Further, he says that animals receive recompense for all they once suffered, and they’ll enjoy perpetual happiness.Thus, Wesley says, since God includes animals in God’s plan of redemption, we too ought to show mercy to animals. We should “soften our hearts towards the meaner creatures, knowing that the Lord careth for them.” 

In light of Welsey’s understanding of the place of animals in eternity, part of God’s redeemed creation, for me, part of the way I embrace God’s reign and redemption now is by seeking a life for animals now that mirrors what Wesley hopes for their eternal future. Any way we can embody God’s eternal reign in the here and now is what I think the good news of the gospel is all about. If God plans on redeeming all creation, including animals, and if God shows mercy even to animals, we can try to enact now as much as possible (on earth as in heaven, we might say) the vision we believe God has for the future. For me, veganism - eliminating all animal products from my diet, is a way that I try to embrace God’s reign, so that all creation might thrive now. 

In my school work and in my work with a Christian animal advocacy agency called CreatureKind, I’ve also been coming to understand more and more how concern for animals deeply ties in with my concern for people, particularly people on the margins. Rev. Dr. Chris Carter, a United Methodist pastor and professor in California, talks about how the systems of domination that try to show a sharp divide between humans and nonhuman animals are the same systems that also make a sharp divide between the ideal human: white heterosexual men in our culture - and humans who don’t “measure up”: women, people of color, and anyone else who isn’t the white male ideal. In fact, often, one of the ways people have belittled humans who “don’t measure up” is by comparing them to animals, animalizing them, trying to take away their humanity. I hope it is clear that this whole system - a system that creates an ideal human image that includes only certain races and genders and classes and types of people, and then makes everyone else less-than - is far outside of God’s vision for us, and for the earth. Instead, in love, God creates us in God’s own image, a part of the whole creation, all of which God calls good, and all of which God longs to see flourish and thrive. And so, for me, when I commit to compassion for animals, I’m also recommitting to pursue justice and right relationship with my human neighbors too. The deeper I dig, the more I see my commitment to animals as part of my practice of faith. 

I return to our text from Isaiah 11: 

The wolf shall live with the lamb,

the leopard shall lie down with the kid,

the calf and the lion and the fatling together,

   and a little child shall lead them.

7 The cow and the bear shall graze,

   their young shall lie down together;

   and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.

8 The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp,

   and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den.

9 They will not hurt or destroy

   on all my holy mountain; (NRSV)

This beautiful vision  is a text we normally hear at Advent. Perhaps we can only embrace such a vision of the future like Isaiah’s near Christmas, when our hearts are full and we’re anticipating welcoming the Christ Child. But I wonder: what is your vision of how things will be in eternity? And, if we pray that God’s will was done on earth as in heaven, what can you start doing now to bring God’s reign ever closer to earth? However each of us answers those questions, let’s do our best to be about the work of making our dreams with God a reality in the here and now. Amen. 

1. Wesley, John. “The General Deliverance.” Sermons on Several Occasions Vol. V. New York: Ezekiel Cooper and John Wilson, 1806.

2. Excerpts drawn from a blog post of mine, https://www.facebook.com/unitedmethodistanimaladvocates/posts/176050987624111. 

Sermon for the Fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Year C, "We've Heard of You," Colossians 1:1-14

Sermon 7/10/22

Colossians 1:1-14

We’ve Heard of You

“I’ve heard of you.” That simple sentence can be construed in some very different ways, ways that are completely opposite in implied meaning. When we say we’ve heard of  someone, we can kind of imbue that with a positive or a negative meaning, can’t we? Oh, I’ve heard of you - as in, “I’ve heard all the bad things about you, I’ve heard about what you’ve done, or what you haven’t done that you were supposed to do. Your reputation - your bad reputation - precedes you.” Maybe even now you’re thinking of someone that would make you say - or at least think - oh, I’ve heard of you in this tone. 

Or, “Oh, I’ve heard about you! People who know you speak well of  you. I’ve wanted to meet you. I’m excited to meet you.” Can you think of someone you were excited to get to meet, to know, because of all that you’d heard about them in advance? Whose good reputation precedes them? Whether or not the stories we tell about each other might cross the line from simply sharing our experiences to something more akin to plain old gossip, the reality is that we hear lots of things about lots of people, sometimes before we even meet them, don’t we? And what we hear of someone fills us with expectations about how our encounters with them will go. Sometimes our expectations are off base - but nonetheless, if someone has a reputation - good or bad - that we’ve heard of in advance - we form impressions of those people in our hearts and minds. 

When Pastor Anna asked me to preach this week, I looked over the lectionary texts for this Sunday - the schedule of scripture readings suggested for the Church year, and I was drawn immediately to our text from Paul’s* letter to the Colossians. In his letter to the community of believers at Colossae, he starts as most of his letters start, with prayer and thanksgiving for the faithful congregation he’s addressing. “In our prayers for you,” our text begins, “We always thank God for you.” What particularly caught my attention was the repeated focus on who has heard of what in this passage. Paul starts by saying, “we have heard of your faith in Christ Jesus; we have heard of the love you have for the saints.” (Saints were and are, really, anyone made holy by their relationship with Christ.) And then he says that the Collosians have heard of the hope that is laid up for them in eternity. Here, Paul means not just something they can claim in an afterlife, as he’ll explain later in this letter. Rather, Followers of Jesus claim the hope of eternity in the present, because they die and live with Christ. (1) The Colossians have heard of - and hope in - and experience a taste of eternity in the now. Paul goes on to say that since the day the Colossians heard of the gospel, the good news, their lives have been bearing fruit. In other words, there are tangible results from their discipleship, from their hearing the gospel. They heard and, and they are living it. Finally, Paul says that since the day he and his team heard of the faithfulness, of the love in the Spirit, of the fruit-bearing disciples of the Colossians - something Paul heard from Epaphras, who has been serving and ministering with them and corresponding with Paul - since he has heard all this about the Colossians, Paul and his co-laborers have been praying for their community, praying that they would be filled with knowledge, with an understanding of God’s wisdom, that they might continue to bear good fruit and grow in faith. Paul has heard good things about the Colossians. And they have heard and committed to living out the gospel. And in turn, Paul can only imagine and pray that they will continue to bear the fruit that comes from following Jesus, heart and soul. 

So my attention was drawn to all the “hearing” in this text because I have heard of you! I’m friends with Pastor Anna, and when you decided, as a congregation, to become a Reconciling Congregation, I saw her post of celebration on Facebook. She wrote, “If there is only one thing you hear today, let it be this: You are loved. I am so humbled to be the pastor of this church. What a statement!  What a love!  What a witness! Now the real work begins.” I’ve heard of you! Pastor Anna is often celebrating your faithfulness in her posts online, and this one really stood out. When she invited me to preach, it was the first thing I thought about: ooh, they just became a Reconciling Congregation! And if that’s what I’m thinking, I can only imagine how much of an impact this must have on people who have felt excluded from the church, or hurt by the church - for LGBTQ people to know without a doubt that they are welcome here: I bet many people have heard of you, and are making note of the welcome you’re extending. It’s so important. I have heard of you and your faith, and the fruit of your discipleship. 

Of course, what people have heard about us, and what we hear about them - it might not always be accurate. We should never assume we know a person’s character based on rumors about them. Still, though, what Paul says in his letter to the Colossians lines up with the kinds of things that Jesus says in the gospel. We’ll be known by our fruit - what is the fruit that our lives, our discipleship, is producing? If our lives are bearing good fruit, this is what people will hear about us. In fact, bearing good fruit, the evidence of our discipleship, of our commitment to following Jesus, is so important that it is part of our official membership vows in The United Methodist Church. We pledge to practice our faith through our prayers, our presence, our gifts, our service, and our witness. I think of the word witness as a kind of synonym to showing the fruit our faith in Christ produces. Think of a witness at a trial: a witness tells what they’ve seen happen. As Jesus-followers, we witness to what Jesus has done in our lives. We don’t have to do this with words, like door-to-door evangelists. Instead, I think the most persuasive witness we have is the fruit our lives bear - what we do, how we live because of our faith, because of our seeking to journey in the way of Jesus. 

So, friends, what have others heard of you and your faith? What fruit are they seeing that is growing in you? What is the witness your life is giving? If your life isn’t yet bearing the fruit you wish it would, what could you do to make sure that your actions are better aligning with your values, with your commitment to God? And, who is supporting and encouraging you in your journey, like Paul supported and encouraged the Coloassians? Who do you need to thank for lifting you up, and letting you know of the good they’ve heard of and seen in you? 

I also want us to look at things from “the other side.” What good fruit are you seeing from someone else’s faith journey? Whose faith have you heard of? And how can you give them a blessing of encouragement? Are you holding them in prayer? Not just saying, “I’ll keep you in my prayers,” but really lifting them up to God in your hearts? Who can you encourage as Paul encourages the Coloassians?  

Friends, I have heard of you. I have heard of your faith, and Pastor Anna’s faithful leadership, and I give thanks for you. I have heard of the love that you have for all the saints, and it makes a difference. I have heard of your good fruit that is growing in the world. What have you heard? And what is your life saying to others? May our lives be a witness to the life-giving, unconditional, and world-changing love of God. Amen. 

*I acknowledge that the authorship of Colossians is contested, but that authorship is not particularly relevant to this sermon. 

1. Schellenberg, Rayn, “Commentary on Colossians 1:1-14,” The Working Preacher,  https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-15-3/commentary-on-colossians-11-14-5