What Did You Expect?

Sunday, December 12th, 2004
Third Sunday of Advent (Joy)
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
Matthew 11:2-11

2When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples 3and said to him, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?’ 4Jesus answered them, ‘Go and tell John what you hear and see: 5the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. 6And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.’
7 As they went away, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John: ‘What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind? 8What then did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? Look, those who wear soft robes are in royal palaces. 9What then did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. 10This is the one about whom it is written, “See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.” 11Truly I tell you, among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.

What did you expect, people?

Did you really think that what you would find in the wilderness was a soft-spoken, gentle, meek, warm and fuzzy sort of a man, who would ask you to “please, if you don’t mind, could you, maybe, just maybe, if you’re not doing anything else important, um … sorry to have to use this word … but … repent? (pretty please with sugar on it and a cherry on top?)”

What did you expect, John?

You’ve been telling people for some time now what to look for, and here it is, all happening just like you and the other prophets said it would. The blind are seeing, the lame are walking, lepers are being healed, the deaf are hearing, the dead are being raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. What more do you want? What better proof do you need?

Sometimes there ISN’T so much lost in the translation, is there?

As much as I’ve grown to appreciate liturgy and ritual over the years, and the solemnity and weight that they can bring to a worship service, there is a definite risk in continuing in that – whatever form of … formality it takes, since there are variations. The forms of worship, such as the discipline of silence that we observed a few minutes ago, or the recitation of the Lord’s Prayer, or the congregational benediction we share at the end of most of our services, in the best sense of the word, lend a predictability to worship that we, being the creatures of habit that we are, find comforting and reassuring in their familiarity, that aspect of them that is most appealing is that in the midst of an unpredictable world, fraught with changing social mores, political upheavals, economic fluctuations, the possibility of waking up one day to a phone call telling of a dear friend’s death, or of a potentially fatal illness of our own, there is much that is reassuring in predictability.

What did you expect?

The thing is, we build up immunity to the predictable. Familiarity breeds contempt. Rote memorization does not engage the heart, just the brain. And the message, whatever that message is, gets lost in the memorization process. We love the old hymns, and we sing them with hardly a glance at the words, either by our eyes OR our hearts. That is why it’s good to occasionally listen to what you are singing, and THINK about the words. If we were to recite the Lord ’s Prayer each Sunday, as some do, it would fairly quickly become little more than a time marker for how far along we are in the service.

Up until a couple of months ago, at a certain point in each message, I would bring up the question “So what does this mean for Jerusalem Baptist Church at Emmerton?” You may or may not have noticed I stopped using that device. (For a while, I should say.) The reason is that someone whose judgment I trust implicitly told me one day that it worked for a while, but it had become the cue to mentally check out and start thinking about where to eat lunch, here comes the end of the sermon, and for the musicians to get up to the piano and the organ. Not that those are bad things, it just helps to occasionally shake things up a bit.

So there is God. Watching and waiting for the fullness of time. God has, through the prophets, let the people know what to expect, what to look for in the Messiah, and how to recognize him. For them, it’s been hundreds of years. As far back as anyone can remember, they’ve all been saying the same thing. And somewhere back around their great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather, it stopped being about the Messiah and started being about the way it was being said, or chanted, or phrased, and by whom, and how often, and on what days, and with what clothes, and with what … accessories.

What did you expect?

It would seem that nothing else was happening. At least nothing like what Isaiah had told of. Actually, yes, there were things happening. Israel got Judges, then some pretty good kings, then a great king, then a not so great king, then several not so great kings, then they got invaded, then the tribes got split up, and the northern Kingdom pretty much disappeared, and the last two tribes, this remnant, this runt of a country was left, constantly being kicked around by bigger neighbors, forced into exile by Babylonians, overrun by Egyptians, Syrians, a whole bunch of political disasters … so the people of Israel got tired of being kicked around, and started to look for a way out … and they were still reading these same passages, and they began to see them in light of THEIR circumstances …

What did you expect?

WE do that on a regular basis. We can’t help it. It’s part of what keeps the word alive for us.

So, what does God’s word have for us here, now, today, at Jerusalem Baptist Church?

Let’s change the emphasis of the question: what did you expect?

When you stepped into the sanctuary this morning, what did you expect? Did you sit in the same seat, smile at the same people and make the same comments about the weather to your neighbor? During the hymns, especially this time of year, did you simply mouth the words, or simply listen to others as they sang? During the discipline of silence, were your thoughts more on ‘how much longer this will go before he starts to pray?’ Or were you truly disciplining yourself into the silence?

What did you expect?

Today is the Third Sunday of Advent, the Sunday of Joy. We’ve observed the lighting of the candles of Hope, Peace, and today, Joy. Next Sunday will be the Sunday of love. As I mentioned on the first Sunday of advent, this is a time of anticipation – of waiting – of waiting for the coming of the Christ Child, and on Christmas Eve we will light the Christ candle.

At the beginning of the text this morning, Jesus tells John’s disciples who’ve come to ask him if he really is the one they’ve been waiting for to “go and tell what you have heard and seen.”

So we are about that business, still. 2000 years later. Going and telling what we have heard and seen God do in our own lives, in our own hearts, in our own families, and in the lives of those around us.

Our telling is to be … full of joy … shedding joy, reeking of joy, because it is the ultimate joy, to be called children of God.

Let’s pray.

Prepare the Way

Sunday, December 5th. 2004
Second Sunday of Advent (Peace)
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
Matthew 3:1-12

1In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, 2‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.’ 3This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said, ‘The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.”’ 4Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. 5Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, 6and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. 7 But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, ‘You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? 8Bear fruit worthy of repentance. 9Do not presume to say to yourselves, “We have Abraham as our ancestor”; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 10Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. 11‘I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 12His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."

Peace, like war, is waged.
Peace plans its strategy and encircles the enemy.
Peace marshals its forces and storms the gates.
Peace gathers its weapons and pierces the defense.
Peace, like war, is waged.
But Christ has turned it all around:
the weapons of peace are love, joy, goodness, longsuffering;
the arms of peace are justice, truth, patience, prayer;
the strategy of peace brings safety, welfare, happiness;
the forces of peace are the sons and daughters of God.

This poem by Walker Knight was what first brought to my attention the existence of the Baptist Peace Fellowship of North America. It was founded by a small group of people at Deer Park Baptist Church in Louisville, Kentucky, on March 31st, 1984.

The poem was first published in the Home Missions magazine in 1972. At the time I first read the poem, the country was not engaged in any sort of action that could be considered outright ‘war’ – at least not to the public’s knowledge. There were peacekeeping operations going on in the middle east as well as a couple of other places around the globe, but there was no military conflict comparable to the one that was going on at the time the poem was originally written – the Vietnam war.

Once a year, the Fellowship gathers for a retreat, to work out a continuing strategy to achieve peace in real, physical, tangible ways, primarily focused around issues of justice. Part of the tradition that has grown up around these gatherings has been that they are as much a spiritual retreat as a planning meeting. To that end, each year a passage of scripture is chosen as a theme around which to center that prayer and devotional time, and a banner is made, similar to the ones we would otherwise have hanging behind me on the wall, with the scripture on it.

This year, the man who was carrying the banner to the gathering was stopped, and the case in which the banner was carried was confiscated by agents at the airport. No reason was given for the confiscation. After a two week period, the man was notified that he could return and pick up the suitcase with the banner inside. That was, of course, after the gathering had taken place. No explanation was given, no apology, no reason as to why the banner was confiscated. The absence of the banner did not stop the retreat or the prayers for peace.

It seems that even today, there are those who would hold suspect any organization trying to promote peace in the midst of conflict, perhaps doubting the sincerity of the motives, perhaps questioning the validity of their call to prophetically speak against the grain of what would seem to be most things Baptist. We are, after all, the only denomination to have come out in favor of the war in Iraq. Perhaps it would do us good to lend an ear to those with whom we might disagree, there might be something to learn in the tension created between differing viewpoints.

There is another tension I’d like to talk about this morning.

One of the biblical names for Jesus is ‘Prince of Peace’. There’s a reason for that. He is the one who brings ultimate peace to our lives. It’s not always immediate, it’s not always smooth, and it is not free from rough spots. Anyone in this room can probably attest to that.

We heard a few minutes ago, Lindsey reading from the book of Micah, 4:3-4:

“He will judge between people from many nations. He’ll settle problems among strong nations everywhere. They will hammer their swords into plows. They’ll hammer their spears into pruning tools. Nations will not go to war against one another. They won’t event train to fight anymore. Every man will have his own vine and fig tree. And no one will make them afraid. That’s what the Lord who rules over all has promised.”

So it seems a bit jarring that the passage from Matthew this morning sets Jesus up as something of an instigator and not so much a peacemaker; the words are coming from John’s mouth, but they could just as well have come from Jesus’. “Brood of vipers” is not exactly what you’d call a ‘term of endearment’. It is not designed to “win friends and influence people”.

In this case, what it IS doing is speaking truth. Calling a spade a spade was something Jesus was both good at and unafraid to do. No matter WHOM he was talking to. He didn’t let the Pharisees get by without calling their bluff, or the Sadducees, or the Samaritan woman at the well, or the woman caught in adultery, or his own disciples. Though the ultimate result is and will be peace, the road to reach it is anything but smooth.

If we are called to be Christ’s presence in this world, we are called to be imitators of him. We are to be about the business of building the Kingdom of God – on earth. That is our duty, that is our call, that is our goal, because that is what we have to work with. We live in the present with our hope in the future. We live in the midst of turmoil and pestilence. We live in an age that does not know peace – true peace. It is reflected in so many ways. It is reflected in the incredible inequities we find in our very own society. It is reflected in the constant outbreaks of wars, and insurrections, and infighting between those who should be brothers, it is reflected in estrangement between family members, and broken relationships, and physical and emotional abuse, it is found in the horrible mistreatment of animals, in the exploitation of natural resources with little or no regard for the long-term consequences for our children and their children, it is found in the world at large turning a blind eye and a deaf ear to the masses of hurting and dying people who COULD BE helped, if we only had the heart.

Yes, we are working toward the hope of one day experiencing the Kingdom of God directly – when we are in God’s presence, but for now, we are to be

‘The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’

For those of you who were here last Sunday afternoon and evening, I believe we caught a glimpse of what it looks like to make that path straight. With over 60 of our Mexican friends in attendance, the presence of each of you around those tables, smiling and laughing, going over English vocabulary or working in the kitchen, preparing the trays, and yeah, even fretting about whether or not we were going to have enough food to feed everyone, you were preparing the way of the Lord.

Most often, we understand the second coming of Christ to be … shall we say, a … dramatic event. Not something that you might, say, sleep through; angels, and fire, and clouds of light, trumpets, the works.

Picture it, if you will, as unlikely as it may seem; a world that has been so infused with the presence and the work of the Holy Spirit, that the coming of the Kingdom is indeed like that of ‘a thief in the night’ – but in the best sense of the word. Unexpected, yes, but at the same time, the ‘after’ not greatly different from what was there ‘before’. Can you imagine, if we as the body of Christ were to carry out our calling as thoroughly and completely as we could, alongside every other member of the body of Christ? Can you imagine what the world would look like if most of the work of breaking in the Kingdom had already been accomplished?

It’s a dream, I know, perhaps an unrealistic one.

But then, what are dreams for?

Let’s pray.

The Lord Needs It

Sunday, November 21st, 2004
25th after Pentecost
Jerusalem Baptist Church
Luke 19:29-38

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

Here it comes.

We’re sliding right into it, just like we do every year. We’re moving into the holiday season. The one where everything becomes a blur, and there’s too much to do, too much to eat, too much to buy, too much to plan, too many parties to go to, too many rehearsals to attend, and way way way too much to think about to actually STOP and THINK.

So here’s my proposal. Set aside an hour a week over the next six weeks to stop and think. If that hour happens to begin around 11 on Sunday mornings, so be it. I hope we can work together on the proposal.

We’ve been in Luke for the last couple of months. Next Sunday will be the first of the church year, and we’ll switch over to the Gospel of Matthew. For now, we’re still in Luke.

As would necessarily be the case, the readings have been leading up to this point in the gospel account – the conclusion of the story, or perhaps it might best be called the culmination of the story. We find Jesus preparing the disciples for the entry into Jerusalem. He has just come from Bethany, home of Mary, Martha and Lazarus, and is stepping into what HE understands to be the end game of his life here on earth.

While it is crucial to incorporate the Easter events into our faith walk, into our understanding of how God has worked in history and continues to work in our lives, for everything there is, as we find in the third chapter of the book of Ecclesiastes, a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.

We are approaching the time of year when we celebrate the coming of the Christ Child, a time that we generally characterize as full of joy, hope, peace, and love. That is, of course, as it should be. The seasons of our lives are reflected in the seasons of the year.

We cannot, however, enter into a full-blown celebration of the birth of Christ without recognizing, without acknowledging the shadowside of the Christmas story. When we read of Herod’s order to kill all the boys less than two years of age in Bethlehem, we can readily identify the brokenness of the world …breaking into what we would like to consider the happiest occasion of all.

Similar sorrow has been inflicted in our memory with the downing of Pan American flight 103 over Scotland on December 21st, 1988, or just last year, where landslides in the Philippines killed hundreds almost exactly 15 years later. Can any of us say whether or not we remember that coming across the news? There have been any number of disasters that have struck on or around Christmas, some far away and some very, very close to home. They have all tinged our celebrations with a sense that, while there is much to celebrate, there is likewise much to mourn.

How many of us have our own personal stories of events that conspired to do away with any joy to be felt in the middle of the yuletide season?

One of the reasons we have elected to hold a grief recognition service in the midst of the holidays is specifically for that reason. Events that are out of our control occur in the lives of those both inside and outside of our family of faith that make the approaching holidays anything but jovial. There is precious little to celebrate when one is so overwhelmed with grief that simply getting out of bed is a milestone to be reached and passed.

So we find ourselves at the triumphal entry. A passage that, just like the birth passage, begins with a foretelling, and ends with praises being sung to God not by a choir of angels, but of disciples and other, one would hope, in the crowd, who lifted their voices together to sing “Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!" Does that sound familiar? We could almost call them bookends to Jesus’ life.

Briefly this morning, I’d like us to stop on the foretelling. That part where Jesus tells the disciples to go into town, and find the colt that has never been ridden, that is tied up, and untie him, and bring it to him.

In an aside that makes the story that much more memorable, Jesus tells the disciples, “if anyone asks you why you’re untying the colt, just tell them ‘the Lord needs it’. So the disciples head off to town, and guess what happens? Exactly what Jesus told them would happen. Down to someone asking why they were untying the colt. It seems a little odd, coming from a 21st century reading of the text, that the writer of Luke notes nothing other than the almost word-for-word correspondence between what was foretold and what was said. I can imagine that the conversation may have gone for a little longer than that which is recorded in the Gospel, and I can just as easily imagine that there was more than just the one question asked, and the one answer given.

It’s kind of that way with us, isn’t it? We’d like to tell every detail of an encounter, but we don’t always have the time, or the energy, to describe in minute detail exactly what happened, and how someone looked, or what they wore, said, or did. We more often than not boil a story down to the most relevant details, or try to, anyway. J

So the writer sticks to the most relevant message: “The Lord needs it”. It is brief, to the point, and specific.

The question though, changes for us:

What is it that we have tied up?

Can we look at our lives and identify things we are keeping from the Lord and his use?

There’s an issue here that I’ll touch on briefly: Does the Lord really actually “NEED” anything from us? We believe in an omnipotent God – an all-powerful God who acts in history and through the majesty of nature … what would God need of us? The short and simple answer is: nothing. The longer and more accurate answer is: everything. God can indeed do as God pleases. God has chosen to allow us the freedom to choose to follow, to engage, to enter into relationship with God. So in a sense, the Lord does need each of us, and of each of us, our all.

A few minutes ago I mentioned all the things that we are involved in or are going to be involved in over the next several weeks … TIME, I think, is an easily identifiable … commodity that we can easily keep from the Lord’s use. We can kid ourselves into thinking that time spent here at church is time dedicated to the Lord, and that would be true to a point, but time dedicated to the Lord is not the same as time with the Lord. So be sure to spend time in prayer, in studying his word, in … communing with the Lord, not only during the holiday season, but throughout the year.

The next thing the Lord needs is our effort. Effort and time are both closely related, but I think slightly different. Again, effort expended and dedicated TO the Lord is not the same as effort expended in SEEKING the Lord. The word is to expend effort not only outwardly, but inwardly as well. WORK at the relationship you have with the Lord, just as you would any relationship here on earth. It takes time to get to know someone. Knowing the Lord is no different.

Lastly, we are getting ready to meet to approve our budget for the next year. Does the Lord need our money? Directly: no. Entering into relationship with God through Jesus is a free gift of grace. There is no monetary price tag on that. However, as we read in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, we are the body of Christ, made up of many members, and each member having different gifts. As that body we have decided to congregate and associate here, in this building, on a regular basis. While Christ is the head of this body of believers, and is at the heart of what we do, working as we do in this earthly realm, this … temporal environment, we have made commitments, and have entered into agreements, and have promised to do things in the name of Christ and for his sake that require us to operate on a mundane level – dealing with money both given and spent. So as we approach not only the business meeting in a couple of weeks, ask yourself this question: am I holding back – am I tying up – what the Lord needs of me?

And that becomes the question for Jerusalem Baptist Church for each of us, as we enter the holiday season: What do we have tied up that the Lord needs of us?

Let’s pray.

Gain Your Souls

Sunday, November 14th, 2004
24th after Pentecost
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
Luke 21:5-19

5 When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, 6 'As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.' 7 They asked him, 'Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?' 8 And he said, 'Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, "I am he!" and, "The time is near!" Do not go after them. 9 'When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.' 10 Then he said to them, 'Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; 11 there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. 12 'But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. 13 This will give you an opportunity to testify. 14 So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; 15 for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. 16 You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. 17 You will be hated by all because of my name. 18 But not a hair of your head will perish. 19 By your endurance you will gain your souls.

Sometimes, being a Pastor requires you to go from one extreme of the human emotional spectrum to the other within a short period of time.

Last Saturday evening, while there was a wonderful birthday celebration going on inside the firehouse at Callao for Berenice, outside, there was a sad, stumbling fight going on between a man who had drunk himself almost into a stupor and just about anyone who tried to approach him to try to convince him to let them take him home. I went from taking Berenice on a short spin around the dance floor to stepping toward the man as he was kicking at another man who was trying to get him to settle down and go home and sleep it off.

Sunday, we attended the funeral of William B. Graham, in Irvington. He was an exceptional man.

We came home from that to news of Uncle John Parker's passing. It wasn't unexpected. We had just celebrated his 90th birthday, and he never fully recovered from the party. Kenneth, his youngest son, told me that he went home from the party and got back in bed and, except for a couple of instances where he got up and went to the table for a few minutes at a time, he never got back up out of bed.

On Tuesday afternoon, after stopping in to do my chaplaincy rotation at Riverside, I got a call from one of the ER nurses, asking me to come in. They had a bad situation coming in from Mattaponi, and needed a chaplain on standby. I know Leslie shared with you some if not all the details on Wednesday night. For those of you who were not here then, a woman 33 and a half weeks pregnant with her third child and second son had given birth unexpectedly, and the boy wasn't responding.

I arrived at the hospital within 5 minutes of being called, since we were in the parking lot at Wal-Mart when the call came in. When I walked into the ER, the nurse who had called me explained the situation, and asked me to stand in the entryway to the ambulance bay, to stand near the outer door to trigger the motion sensor to keep the door open when the EMT's got there.

As it turned out, the nurse who came through to meet the ambulance and unload the baby stepped up to the doors, triggered them, and reached up and flipped a switch that locked them open. All I did was stand, and hold a pan with a bag with some stuff in it from the house.

The nurse took the baby and immediately began to do CPR on him. He was tiny, and he didn't move.

They wheeled the mother into one of the empty bays and got her settled onto a gurney. My first impression was "she sure is taking this well." There was very little reaction from her. She was not screaming or crying. In fact, more than anything, she struck me as being angry. I stayed with her, introduced myself as one of the chaplains on call. After a few minutes, I went to check on how the baby was doing. There were no signs of life. I went back and stood by the mother. I asked her if there was anyone I could call for her. She gave me a name of a friend of hers to call. I did, but only got an answering machine.

Over the next few minutes, after going back into her, one of the doctors came over to let her know that it didn't look good. After he left I took her hand and just held it. She didn't say anything, but she began to silently cry. She held onto my hand very tightly.

I asked her if she attended church anywhere. She named a church up in King and Queen, but admitted in the same sentence that she didn't go very often. We had a few more quiet exchanges. Then the doctor came in and asked if she wanted to move into the room where the boy was being worked on. She did, and we got a wheelchair for her and wheeled her across the way. She sat and watched quietly as the nurses and Doctors did everything they could to revive her baby. Finally, the doctor asked her if it was okay for them to stop. She nodded that it was.

The nurses wrapped the baby and brought him over to his mother to hold. We wheeled her back into the bay where she was after she first came in. She held him, and just looked at his little face and cried some more.

Her husband came in then. He was a big man, easily 3 times my size. He broke down as soon as he walked around the curtain. After a few minutes of holding his baby boy, he asked if his mother, who was out in the waiting area, could join them. I went and got her, and as soon as she walked into the bay, you could almost see this 300 lb man become a little boy once again, crying and asking his mommy to "make it better".

Wednesday I drove to Lexington for Uncle John's visitation and funeral. Aunt Edith and he had been married for 7 years. They had just celebrated their 84th month-aversary two weeks before he died. Wednesday evening was filled with people who had come to know Uncle John since he'd moved to Lexington about 10 years ago, as well as good visiting time with David and Kenneth, his sons, and four other missionary aunts and uncles in addition to my parents, who had all gathered with everyone else to pay their respects to Uncle John. The funeral was much more a celebration than a time of mourning. There WAS that, of course, it is a part of any funeral. But the service looked back on a 90 year span of life - for the most part dedicated to the service of the Lord, an unwavering commitment to him and a faithful reflection of God's faithfulness in Uncle John's life.

I'm still trying to fit my brain around the week. To be confronted with the two deaths at opposite ends of the spectrum of human life and to try to bring them into some kind of coherent association, if not understanding, is proving to be difficult at best.

Before leaving the family at the hospital on Wednesday, I asked if I could pray with them, and in my prayer I asked God to help us live with the questions, and to be with us in our asking of them.

Jesus was addressing the questions the disciples had for him at the temple that day. They were commenting on the magnificence of the temple, the beauty of the stones and the gifts that were laid out by people coming to offer their sacrifices. There is a quality unique to the human spirit: curiosity, a thirst for knowledge, a desire to understand. In some way, I think if we understand something, an event, if we gain some perspective on it, grasp some of the factors that played into the outcome, we feel we have somehow managed … a kind of control over it. When faced with that proposition, we would quickly dispel it, realizing that understanding does not imply control, but before that, somehow in knowing "why" we find ourselves more inclined to accept a given event.

That is what was happening with the disciples. Jesus tells them the temple will be destroyed so utterly that not a single stone will be left standing on top of another. Their first reaction is "When? And how can we see it coming?" They were confronted with the possibility of an event that wouldn't even fit in their current understanding. They were sitting surrounded by a building that had stood for as long as any of them could remember. They were reeling, trying to find a reference point from which to begin to build their new understanding of the world. So they fell back on knowing as much as they could about the coming events.

I've heard sermons preached on this passage before, as I'm sure most of you have. As near as I can recall, those sermons primarily focused on the correlating of events listed in the passage with events listed on the front page of the newspapers or in the evening news on television. There may be some truth to that, but I don't think it is the message that Jesus intended us to hear. We are so easily distracted by the trees that we forget there is a forest. We are so consumed with predicting, with knowing, with having an inside track on what is going to come, that we lose sight of our reason for being here in the first place.

Jesus tells us 'Yes, there are going to be terrible things happening, things you can't even imagine. You might be betrayed by family, there'll be terrible natural disasters, there will be wars between nations the likes of which you've never seen, and can't begin to comprehend. You'll be taken prisoner for your faith and taken before judges and governors, people who have a say over whether you'll live or die."

So what does he tell us to do? Look at verse 14:

14 So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; 15 for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict.

That seems counterintuitive. That's a fancy word for 'It doesn't make sense." If you KNOW these things are going to happen, shouldn't you prepare? SHOULDN'T you get clear in your head what you'll say? What's the saying? The best defense is a good offense?

That's the whole point, Jesus is saying. If you prepare, you'll be relying on yourself to see you through. Where is the faith in that?

You are going to see and go through terrible things, things that shake your faith; things that will make you question your basic foundations. You're going to see a family lose a son before they even have a chance to know him. You're going to lose someone on whom you rely for wisdom, and guidance, and encouragement, and you will realize in that losing that your foundation needs not be on assumptions, and people, but on God.

The firmest foundation on which to build our lives is not made of cement, but of blood. If we work for the kingdom, and don't become distracted by these side issues, if we work to build our relationship with Jesus Christ, our foundations will stand.

Let's pray.

Seek and Save

Sunday, October 31st, 2004
22nd after Pentecost
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
Luke 19:1-10

1 He entered Jericho and was passing through it. 2 A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was rich. 3He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature. 4 So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. 5 When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, Zacchaeus hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.’ 6 So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him. 7 All who saw it began to grumble and said, ‘He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner.’ 8 Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, ‘Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.’ 9 Then Jesus said to him, ‘Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. 10 For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.’

Zacchaeus was a wee little man and a wee little man was he
He climbed up in the sycamore tree for the Lord he wanted to see
And as the Savior passed that way he looked up in that tree
And he said,” Zacchaeus, you come down!
For I’m going to your house today!
For I’m going to your house today!

How many of us have never heard the story of Zacchaeus?

How many of our earliest impressions of what it means to be a Christian come from nursery rhymes and Sunday school choruses? Can you identify the first time you heard about Jonah and the whale (NOT the big FISH), or Noah and the Ark, Daniel in the lion’s den?

Some stories stick with us. As children, we’re geared to focus in on those aspects of stories we hear with which we can identify … hmm … come to think of it, I suppose the same can be said of us as adults, as HUMANS.

If there’s no common ground, there’s very little to hold our attention, and so we move on – we listen for a couple of minutes and then mentally check out, assuming that there IS no common ground.

Let’s look a little more closely at the story. What is Luke trying to convey with this story – not ONLY in and of itself, but as a part of the tapestry woven together by the different stories that have preceded it and which follow it?

The last half of chapter 18 shapes our understanding of this text:

(18:15-17) First, people bring little children to see Jesus. The disciples rebuke the parents, but Jesus intervenes saying, "Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs".

(18:18-27) Then a rich ruler comes to Jesus asking how he might be saved. He goes away sadly after learning that he will have to sacrifice his riches. Jesus says, "How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!" Those who hear Jesus ask, "Then who can be saved?" Jesus replies, "What is impossible for mortals is possible for God".

(18:35-43) Then a blind beggar sitting at the side of the road shouts his plea for mercy. The crowd tries to quiet him, but the man persists. Jesus orders the man to be brought to him and declares, "Receive your sight; your faith has saved you".

In each of those instances, Jesus reverses the ordinary. He welcomes children and beggars, but places heavy demands on those whom others would welcome with open arms.

In the case of the rich ruler, Jesus leaves the door ajar. It is difficult for rich people to be saved, but God can save them. This leads naturally into our Gospel lesson, the story of Zacchaeus, a rich man who finds salvation. The rich ruler is too attached to his possessions to give them to the poor. Zacchaeus, on the other hand, voluntarily pledges to give half his possessions to the poor and to make restitution to any whom he has cheated. If he does what he says he will do, he will have voluntarily done what Jesus asked of the rich ruler (18:18-27).

In preparing for the message today, there’s an interesting tidbit of information that was brought out – in verse 8 - It is not clear whether Zacchaeus has defrauded anyone. His verbs, "give" (didomi) and "pay back" (apodidomi) are present tense (rather than future tense as the NRSV translates them) and may indicate that he routinely gives to the poor and offers restitution to those whom he has wronged. In other words, he might be innocent of any wrongdoing, and what we’re dealing with is Jesus making known that fact by publicly associating with Zaccheus. In a very literal sense, Jesus pronounces his blessing on Zaccheus and his household, and it is a transformational experience.

If we were to follow that perspective of the story, the focus changes substantially, but not ultimately.

Last week I referred to Zacchaeus and his "dramatic" turnaround. That is still the generally accepted understanding of the story: that prior to meeting Jesus he was a scoundrel, but that when he met Jesus here, in this story, when Jesus accepted him, trusted him, and sat and ate with him, he in turn learned to accept not only Jesus, but his community as well.

Consider for a moment the possibility that at some point prior to THIS particular encounter, Jesus had already had some influence on Zaccheus. Somewhere along the line, Zacchaeus was standing behind a group of people listening to Jesus speak – and something Jesus said triggered that change that we assume happened at the end of this scene – only before.

The problem is, everyone – and I do mean everyone - in Jericho can’t get past the fact that Zaccheus is the chief tax collector (v 7 – “ALL who saw it began to grumble”).

Typically, a chief tax collector contracted with Romans to collect taxes in a particular town or region, and paid a substantial fee for the franchise. He then subcontracted the actual collection of taxes. His profit was the difference between his franchise fee and the amount of taxes collected. The system was prone to abuse, rewarding tax collectors for excessive collections. If the citizenry rebelled, Roman soldiers stood ready to put down the rebellion (although a tax collector who provoked excessive rebellion risked losing his franchise). Jews despised tax collectors as mercenaries and thieves.

A leopard can’t change its spots, right? So what we’re dealing with here is prejudice. Prejudice on the part of the general population of Jericho towards this diminutive man, who has been fundamentally changed, but no one sees it because they still only think of him as Zacchaeus, the chief tax collector.

That seems to be the whole point of Jesus’ coming. He changes us. Dramatically, drastically, radically, sometimes slowly and sometimes suddenly, but he does change us. What he may be doing here with Zaccheus is broadening that effect.

As chief tax-collector, Zacchaeus was an outsider, a social leper. Jesus brings him inside again, declaring him to be a "son of Abraham," just has he has pronounced the woman crippled with a spirit of infirmity for 18 years a "daughter of Abraham" (13:16).

Zacchaeus is not saved in isolation. Jesus declares that "salvation has come to this house" (oikos -- which in this context implies "household" or "family"). Zacchaeus' salvation will affect the entire community as he provides support for the poor and restitution to those whom he has defrauded. A community could be transformed by the presence of a tax collector whom people can trust.

What does this mean for Jerusalem Baptist Church at Emmerton?

Perhaps this story says more about the community of Jericho than it does about Zacchaeus. Perhaps what we need to notice is the reaction of the crowd - and Jesus' actions in spite of them.

Maybe the message for us today is that we are to acknowledge - and celebrate - the transformative power of the Holy Spirit WHEREVER it moves - HOWEVER unlikely a place.

We dare not judge any person hopeless. Whether we are murderers, terrorists, racists, or rapists, gossips, liars, or gluttons, Christ seeks to save us all. Sometimes, against all odds, he succeeds.

Let’s pray.


with deep gratitude to Richard Niell Donovan

Justification


Sunday, October 24th, 2004
21st after Pentecost
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
Luke 18:9-14

9 He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: 10‘two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. 12I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.” 13But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” 14I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be
exalted.’

There’s a real drawback to growing up hearing the Bible read on a regular basis. I wouldn’t say I’ve been immersed in the Bible, though in comparison, I well might have been. There are still sections – largish ones – that are unfamiliar to me. But for the most part, those sections we most often hear preached on, or read from, are ones that I’ve become accustomed to hearing about.

The drawback is this: familiarity breeds contempt.

I don’t mean I’m contemptuous of the Bible in ANY sense of the word, but it’s the same idea that applies after you’ve written something. You get someone ELSE to proofread it. Because if you try to do it yourself, you’ll miss the obvious mistake because your mind doesn’t catch it as it goes by. You read what you intended to write, and not what you actually wrote.

So this text has been on my screen on the computer for the last week, and I finally sat down to concentrate on the finalization process of the message last night, and read the first part of the introductory sentence, and there it is, plain as day: a disclaimer.

He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt

The disclaimer has a purpose. It clues us in to whether we need to be listening or not. If you know you’re NOT righteous, then there’s no need to listen to the parable about to be told. Since we readily admit our own unworthiness, there’s no point in taking up room where someone else could benefit from hearing what is about to be told. So, just excuse me a moment while I mentally check out of hearing range and you just carry right on, Jesus. Tell them what you were getting ready to tell, and I’ll wait over here, where those of us who don’t need to hear this particular parable will be waiting for you.

Hmmm… then in spite of yourself, you start to tune into the rest of the parable, the Pharisee and the Tax Collector … let’s put it in a modern-day context, the Preacher and the Casino Owner … they both walk into the church to pray.

The preacher, in all sincerity, begins his prayer with thanksgiving – thanking God for making him … Holy. For making him a better person than the folks he’s been hearing about in the news recently; thieves, terrorists, pop stars that flaunt their less-than-exemplary lifestyles and laugh at those who try to point out that what they are doing is slowly eroding the fabric of the society in which we live.

He notices out of the corner of his eye the casino owner sitting quietly in the back corner, head bowed. He plows ahead with his prayer of thanksgiving to God for making him better than the Casino Owner there, in the back, everyone KNOWS there’s NO way HE’S going to turn over a new leaf … some people are just beyond reach.

“But I’m different, God, I fast twice a week, I tithe, I go to all the meetings I’m supposed to, say the things I’m supposed to, DO the things I’m supposed to, sing all the right ‘amens’… you can count on me, God, to do my part, and yours as well, for that matter …

Then we have the introduction of the second character. The Casino Owner.

Early in 1981, I was watching an episode of Hill Street Blues. The show broke a lot of new ground in its day. It was one of the first police shows that tried to be true to life insofar as it made the characters – ALL the characters – multidimensional. You got to know that both the policemen and women as well as the crooks and bad guys had both good and bad qualities, warts and halos, as it were. Looking back on some of the episodes today they seem a little more melodramatic than they felt at the time, but in some ways the producers were still working their way out of the old framework.

In the episode, the head sergeant, Esterhaus, is told that an old nemesis of his was caught walking into the precinct, and is down in the holding cell. Apparently the man had been imprisoned for several years, and there was a bitter history between the two. I don’t remember the ex-con’s name, but I remember the scene: Sergeant Esterhaus hesitates and seems to agonize over how to even approach the man – you get the impression that whatever the man was like, he was NOT someone you’d want to get on the wrong side of – and Esterhaus was DEFINITELY on his bad side. Towards the end of the hour, Esterhaus finally makes his way down to the holding area, and the man at first is in the shadows at the back of the cell.

Sgt. Esterhaus steps up to the bars and visibly steeles himself for an explosion of some sort – a ranting, raving, yelling, spitting, and cussing out from his longtime enemy.

It doesn’t happen.

The man steps out of the shadows and he’s decently dressed. His face is clear – clear in the sense that he’s not scowling or frowning, or spitting, for that matter.

I don’t remember his exact words, but the gist of what he says to Esterhaus is this:

“I just wanted to come by and tell you that I’m a changed man. I’m not the same man you put behind bars. I’ve been saved, and Jesus has changed me. I love you and Jesus loves you too.”

Though I’d only been back in the States for a little over 3 months, I’d already gotten used to born again Christians being … maybe not ridiculed, but more often than not being made into caricatures, either portrayed as hypocrites or simple-minded followers of some egomaniacal televangelist.

What was so stunning to me about this portrayal was that it did none of that. Esterhaus’ reaction to him was tentative, but willing to guardedly accept his assertion at face value. We never saw the character again. There’s no subsequent dialogue that throws any doubt on the man’s change. It was left at that. In short, it treated the character as genuine, as honest.

That is what happens in the parable. The Tax collector, an almost-universally reviled person in first-century Palestine, and probably most anywhere else they were found, is presented … unvarnished. There is no spin to be found on him. We find him in the midst of confession, and supplication.

“God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”

And it’s his only line!

He doesn’t go through a radical transformation, at least not in so many words. There’s no resolution to his tax-collector status – not in the same way that Zaccheus is reconciled with those from whom he extorted money. We don’t find this man returning four times what he stole to the people he robbed.

All he does is cry out to God, and admit he is a sinner.

And here’s the capper. Jesus concludes the parable in the very next sentence by telling the people who are listening (remember, they are the ones who ‘trusted in themselves to be righteous and regarded others with contempt’), that the tax collector, not the Pharisee, went home justified. That is, the Casino Owner went home with God’s blessing rather than the Preacher. And in case they didn’t get it, he spells it out for them: ‘for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted’

The two men in the parable were seeking justification before God. That is, they were seeking acceptance from God, seeking, as it were, salvation.

One, the seemingly more righteous of the two – the one who was doing all the “right” things – walks away unjustified. The other, the one whom proper society had turned away from, walks away justified. What’s the difference? As near as I can tell, the difference is in the heart, in the attitude of the heart. The Preacher believes himself capable of bringing something to God in exchange for justification. The Casino Owner recognizes that there is nothing he can bring to God to change HIS condition – nothing, that is, but a contrite heart, a broken spirit, a realization that it is only through the Mercy of God that we can approach the throne of Grace.

What does that mean for Jerusalem Baptist Church at Emmerton?

For one thing, it means that yes, we’re nearing the end of the sermon, but please don’t start shifting into ‘leave’ gear just yet.

What this means for Jerusalem Baptist Church is this: if we are to become a portrait of the kingdom of heaven, we need to be prepared to join in fellowship with people who know themselves to be totally reliant on God’s grace for salvation. We need to remind ourselves that, when all is said and done, on that crucial point there is no distinction between us. There is none more righteous than another. There are only receivers of the free gift of God through faith – as Paul says, lest anyone should boast. We boast in the grace of the one who calls us to himself.

Let’s pray.

Travel Tips


Sunday, October 17th, 2004
20th after Pentecost
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
2 Timothy 3:14-4:5

14 But as for you, continue in what you have learned and firmly believed, knowing from whom you learned it, 15 and how from childhood you have known the sacred writings that are able to instruct you for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. 16 All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, 17 so that everyone who belongs to God may be proficient, equipped for every good work. 4:1 In the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and in view of his appearing and his kingdom, I solemnly urge you: 2 proclaim the message; be persistent whether the time is favorable or unfavorable; convince, rebuke, and encourage, with the utmost patience in teaching. 3 For the time is coming when people will not put up with sound doctrine, but having itching ears, they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own desires, 4 and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander away to myths. 5 As for you, always be sober, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, carry out your ministry fully.

This message is really more of a letter, and though you’re all welcome to listen in, it is directed primarily at Hannah.

Hannah, I don’t remember all that we talked about that evening in April of last year when you told me and mommy that you understood what it meant to give your life to Jesus, and make him Lord of your life, I wonder if you do. I DO remember telling you that you’ll come up on times when you’re not sure. So let’s start from there.

The passage we all read from responsively a few minutes ago was part of a letter written by the Apostle Paul to a young pastor named Timothy almost 2 thousand years ago.

We need to stop before we go on and talk about what that means. ‘The passage’ means that what we read is part of a larger piece of writing. In this case, the larger piece of writing is a letter that the apostle Paul wrote to a friend of his named Timothy. Timothy was kind of like Paul’s son, but not in the normal way. Paul adopted Timothy as a son in Christ. That is, in a way, Timothy was probably more like a younger brother to Paul.

Anyway, there are several letters and writings that were put together a long time ago into what we now call the New Testament. The New Testament is divided into the first four books, which are called the gospels, which is short for ‘the Gospel according to Matthew, Mark, Luke and John’, and then comes the book of Acts, which is short for ‘The Acts of the Apostles’ which tells us about what the early church was like – how the first followers of Jesus Christ lived together and began to form the Church. It is followed by 21 letters and one apocalyptic book. Some of the letters, most, in fact, were written by the apostle Paul, like this one to Timothy, others were written by other people, some named and others not. When you open any of those letters to read them, never forget that someone, somewhere, a long time ago, was writing to someone else, trying to help them understand a little more about what it means to follow Christ.

We’ve been talking about the New Testament, and as you know, there’s an Old Testament as well.

The Old Testament is a lot longer than the New Testament, and a lot older. The Old Testament is full of stories of gardens, floods, battles and miracles, kings and prophets, poems and songs, and sayings, and laws. The first section is called the Pentateuch, which is the first five books of the Bible, Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy, which tell of the forming of the world, and the giving of the law to Moses. There are parts of those five books that move along really fast, like a good movie, say, The Prince of Egypt. But there are other parts that just go on and on and on, and seem to not really have any relevance to today, to what it means to follow Christ today, with things going on today, with the way your friends are acting today towards you. It’s going to be hard sometimes to find what it is exactly that sections of Deuteronomy say about life today. But hold on. That day will come. In the meantime, read some in the book of Psalms.

There are other sections of the old testament as well – the poetic, or wisdom books, which include Psalms and Ecclesiastes, and the Major Prophets and the Minor Prophets. They may sometimes run together, those Minor Prophets, and it may be hard to pronounce some of their names, or the names of the people they were speaking about and to. In fact, you’ll find that to be the case in a lot of the Old Testament. But please don’t let that stop you from reading it. I know you love to read, and if that love of reading extends to the Bible, so much the better.

The important thing to remember about them all is that they were all written under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. One way or another, God had a hand in this. Not only in how it came together, but in how it was first put down. What you are going to find is that the Bible is sacred not because of who wrote it, or because someone says it is, but because of what it is about.

You see, when Paul wrote to Timothy and said,

“All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness and how from childhood you have known the sacred writings that are able to instruct you for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus.”

He wasn’t including the letter he was writing right then in the ‘All Scripture’. He was talking about what they already had and accepted and understood to BE Holy Scripture – it’s what we call the Old Testament. There’s a connectedness between the Old Testament and the New Testament, though, that you can see when you step back from it some. There are places in the Old Testament that talk about things that, when you go to the New Testament and read, you find THAT was what the Old Testament was telling about. Here’s the thing: the latest part of the Old Testament and the earliest part of the New Testament were written about 500 years apart from each other.

We belong to a tradition that honors the Bible as the inspired word of God. As you get older, you might hear arguments about what ‘inspired’ means, and you may hear the word ‘inerrant’. Right now, all you need to worry about is this: God speaks to us through this book. Through these words, whether they are in the Old or New Testaments, God touches our lives, and changes us. It doesn’t always happen in the same way. That’s the neat thing about it. As you go through life, and read a particular passage, it may mean one thing to you at one age, and a few years later, you’ll go back and read it and it’ll mean something different. You see it from a different point of view. Neither I nor anyone can predict just how that will change, because it is the moving of the Holy Spirit that changes you by reading and by living it.

That was kind of what Paul was telling Timothy when he said that “the sacred writings … are able to instruct you for salvation through faith in Jesus.”

Paul goes on to tell Timothy to DO some things: proclaim the message; be persistent whether the time is favorable or unfavorable; convince, rebuke, and encourage, with the utmost patience in teaching.

So proclaim, be persistent, convince, rebuke, and encourage. But what do you think he was talking about? He was talking about the gospel. The Good News that Jesus Christ was God with us, reconciling us to God’s self and teaching us to live life fully – as fully as he did, as fully as God intended us to live it in the first place.

That means not backing away, not hiding, not avoiding something hard. I think you learned that from Mrs. Collins, practicing and working on your bridges and tick-tocks, and other gymnastic moves. It means always being willing to listen, willing to talk, willing to forgive, willing to hold out your hand and hold someone ELSE’S hand to pull them through a hard time they might be having. It means recognizing when you’ve done something wrong and hurt someone and going to that person and sincerely, honestly, apologizing and telling them it will not happen again and mean it.

It means not being worried about what other people think about who you sit with, talk with, are friends with, eat with, and share your life with. It’s about knowing that God loves everyone, and you doing the same thing.

It means not being afraid of the hard questions, and not being afraid of not getting an answer, because sometimes that’s what faith means – it means waiting patiently for an answer that might or might not come in this lifetime.

You’ll come across people in your life who will tell you they have it all figured out, that the Bible is not a mystery to them. They can give you an exact date for when the world was created, and for when it will end. They will tell you that things that are happening today or have happened recently are in the book of Revelation, written right at 1,900 years ago. There are people that will tell you that their answers are the only answers. I would caution you about them. Living out what we read in the word of God involves an active following of the Spirit of God. It means ‘checking in’ on a regular basis with the author. It means carrying on a conversation with God each and every day of your life.

Please don’t ever let God be boxed in by what someone tells you, that he was only active in a certain way thousands of years ago. The Bible is an overall testament to God’s being in relationship – God’s pursuing a relationship – with humanity. Do you know what pursue means? It means chase. God chases after us.

And the best example of that chase is Jesus. God sent his only son to love us and show us the way. And that is why we are called Christians, because we follow Christ. And following Christ means giving yourself up for the sake of Christ. It means putting others’ needs in front of your own. (You may want to remember that as you and Caleb and Judson get older.) It means loving your family – blood relatives or not – whether you like them or not, seeing them as God sees them, as worthy of the life of God’s son Jesus Christ as you are.

Never forget that the family of God is bigger than just the people in this room. Do you remember what we read last week in our Wednesday night Bible Study on Mark, where Jesus was told that his Mother and brothers had come to see him? He asked who his Mother and brothers and sisters were – and he said ‘Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.’ Don’t forget that the family of God is going to look as different from each other as you and I are different, even more so. And never, ever, ever forget to love them. Because that is how people will know you’re a Christian – by your love.

I love you Hannah.

Let’s pray.

Gratitude - in Percentages

Sunday, October 10th, 2004
19th after Pentecost (Communion Sunday)
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
Luke 17:11-19

11 On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. 12As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, 13they called out, saying, ‘Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!’ 14When he saw them, he said to them, ‘Go and show yourselves to the priests.’ And as they went, they were made clean. 15Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. 16He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. 17Then Jesus asked, ‘Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? 18Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?’ 19Then he said to him, ‘Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.’

“We have no way to thank you.”
“How can we ever thank you?”
“God will repay you.”
“Thank you so much, thank you so much, thank you so much.”

I suspect that if we went around the room, at one time or another, we’ve all … hopefully … been on the receiving end of one of those expressions of gratitude.

‘Was none of them found to return and give praise to God
except this foreigner?’

It almost sounds … racist, doesn’t it? At the least, it sounds … isolationist … Jesus, the savior of the world, the lamb of God, the author and redeemer of our faith, the one who came so that all the world would be saved, is now here, referring to the single one of the 10 lepers he’d just healed coming back to thank him, and seems to be able to think of nothing better to call him by than to highlight the fact that he is a Samaritan. It’s something you’d expect to hear from someone like …well, Peter, or Paul, before his conversion … or definitely the Pharisees … we could even read a little bit of exasperation in Jesus’ tone as he says it.

‘… none of them found … except this foreigner?’

In defense of the other nine, he had just told them to go and show themselves to the Priests. No mention of ‘go and be healed’, or ‘your sins have been forgiven’, or ‘your faith has made you whole’ – at least at the beginning of the passage. His response to their undefined request for mercy was a simple command: ‘Go and show yourselves to the Priests.’ So they did.

There was an understood subtext to what Jesus did. HE knew and THEY knew that, to meet the requirements of being declared ‘clean’, they needed to be examined by a priest, who would then declare them healthy.

I wonder if any of them asked themselves why Jesus told them to go see the priest when it was obvious to everyone that they were LEPERS. And as far as anyone knew, there was no cure.

Doesn’t it strike you as odd? I suppose it might not so much, since most all of us know the rest of the story. But the thought is, why do something that would only apply in a situation in which you’ll never find yourself again?

They were healed as they were walking.

There's an image for you. How often do we go along, walking on this pilgrimage of faith, only to one day look back and realilze that we've been healed -- sometimes of something we didn't even know we suffered from?

Imagine walking along a dusty Palestinian road, surrounded by your fellow lepers, maybe you’re in the middle of the group, and you’re looking down at the back of the legs of the man in front of you. You’ve grown accustomed to watching the step-shuffle, step-shuffle gait of him over the years you’ve been hanging out together. And as you’re walking along, you suddenly realize that the step-shuffle is changing … and before you know it … the gait is ‘step-step, step-step, and step-step’. It hits you – you take a closer look, and – yeah, I’ll be darned. Those toes are back on that foot!

Then you stop breathing. You look down at your own feet, your legs, your hands. And where there used to be gnarled stumps, there are now whole feet and hands – fingers just like they used to be – all there. You put your hand to your face and feel it – and realize you CAN ACTUALLY FEEL IT. Something you hadn’t been able to do for years – longer than you’ve been an outcast – the first symptom – losing the sensation in your extremities – predated by several years your ending up as a part of the ragtag group of outcasts who had to warn everyone as they drew near that they were

‘UNCLEAN! UNCLEAN!’

In New Testament times, those who suffered from leprosy were forced to proclaim their illness – literally – by yelling to anyone whom they saw coming that they were ‘unclean’ – to warn them off – or else risk becoming infected themselves. Thus they not only suffered the effects of the disease itself, but of the ostracism – the devastating effects of being cast out of their homes and families because of fear. Fear of contagion. Fear of infection, fear of guilt by association.

How often do we find ourselves separating ourselves from those we would consider foreigners in our midst? How easily – how much more readily do we identify what separates us rather than what unites us, what we have in common?

It struck me in this reading that the only one to come back was a Samaritan. Samaritans wouldn’t have been … eligible for a priestly blessing from a Jewish priest anyway, since by definition, they were unclean, leprous or not. Perhaps this man had less of an investment in completing the task that Jesus had given him. Perhaps he realized sooner than the others where the real source of his healing came from. It wasn’t going to be found in the priestly blessing. He knew that the change that had occurred in his life was from above, and nothing anyone could do here on earth would change that. Recognized or not, he knew himself to be clean.

Time and time again, we see Jesus reaching out to the fringe of society. To the outcasts, to the folks living on that ragged edge of humanity, who had been denied their identity as fully human by the norms of the society in which they lived. Christ takes that and turned it on its head (nothing new there). I suspect Jesus probably had an idea that exactly this WOULD happen – that as the lepers were walking towards the priests, as they became whole, they would become so enthralled with what they were regaining, what they were once again becoming able to participate in, that their focus shifted. They began to think more and more about what they could get out of the healing - their own personal gain - than what they could learn from the healing, what wisdom they could draw from their experience of being ostracized, of being shut out of their world only to suddenly and unexpectedly have it fall within their reach again.

Is that what we find here?

In a society that has taken the radical nature of Christianity and, to one degree or another, neutered it, made it in some ways a shadow of what it can be – a cataclysmically counter culturally transformative force in the lives of individuals and communities – and nations.

There are times when I think the worst thing that could have happened to the Christian faith was that it became acceptable to be one. That’s the contradiction, isn’t it? Such a powerful force, that it swept through the ancient world, and eventually took over the seats of power – and became infected by the very thing it was set against – that same power it acquired through acceptability. Becoming the norm rather than the exception.

Do we find ourselves here today celebrating communion as a statement of position, a heralding to the world that ‘here we are, we BELONG!’ with the implied counterpoint being ‘and you don’t’ or as a confession of our unworthiness in the face of such a sacrifice, and an expression of thanksgiving to God, who through Jesus reconciled the world to himself?

The beauty – and grace - is always in the invitation.

Christ invites us all to the table, Samaritan. Jew, or Gentile. It makes no difference to him. Male or Female, slave or free. We are all welcomed at this table. Because this table, this meal is the epitome of a welcoming feast.

For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, 24 and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, "This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me." In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me." For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes.

(1 Cor 11:23-26)

As Christ’s followers, we proclaim Christ’s death until he comes, through the sharing of the bread and the drinking of the wine. We do it out of obedience, out of the hope that we have in the promise that he WILL one day return. And so we come, regularly, earnestly, prayerfully, and worshipfully.

(Communion)

Let’s pray.

As Worthless Slaves

Sunday, October 3rd, 2004
18th after Pentecost
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
Luke 17:1-10

(From “The Message”)

1 He said to his disciples, "Hard trials and temptations are bound to come, but too bad for whoever brings them on! 2 Better to wear a millstone necklace and take a swim in the deep blue sea than give even one of these dear little ones a hard time! 3 "Be alert. If you see your friend going wrong, correct him. If he responds, forgive him. 4 Even if it's personal against you and repeated seven times through the day, and seven times he says, 'I'm sorry, I won't do it again,' forgive him." 5 The apostles came up and said to the Master, "Give us more faith." 6 But the Master said, "You don't need more faith. There is no 'more' or 'less' in faith. If you have a bare kernel of faith, say the size of a poppy seed, you could say to this sycamore tree, 'Go jump in the lake,' and it would do it. 7 "Suppose one of you has a servant who comes in from plowing the field or tending the sheep. Would you take his coat, set the table, and say, 'Sit down and eat'? 8 Wouldn't you be more likely to say, 'Prepare dinner; change your clothes and wait table for me until I've finished my coffee; then go to the kitchen and have your supper'? 9 Does the servant get special thanks for doing what's expected of him? 10 It's the same with you. When you've done everything expected of you, be matter-of-fact and say, 'The work is done. What we were told to do, we did.'"

(New Revised Standard Version)

Jesus said to his disciples, "Occasions for stumbling are bound to come, but woe to anyone by whom they come! 2 It would be better for you if a millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea than for you to cause one of these little ones to stumble. 3 Be on your guard! If another disciple sins, you must rebuke the offender, and if there is repentance, you must forgive. 4 And if the same person sins against you seven times a day, and turns back to you seven times and says, 'I repent,' you must forgive." 5The apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith!" 6 The Lord replied, "If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it would obey you. 7 "Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, 'Come here at once and take your place at the table'? 8 Would you not rather say to him, 'Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink'? 9 Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? 10 So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, 'We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!' "

Quick pop-quiz for you: subject is math. Don’t yell out the answer; just get it in your heads. The question: How much is too much forgiveness? …

Okay. Remember that answer. Keep it in the back of your heads. We’ll come back to it later.

Let’s get right to the text. We find Jesus still talking to the crowds around him … including Pharisees, and his disciples. And in this instance, we find a little clue as to who ELSE was around. Sometimes you find snippets, snapshots, if you will, of what the actual scene was when Jesus was talking. We find that here, when Jesus starts off talking directly to his disciples.

He’s not so much warning them as he is stating what was probably the obvious. None of them were strangers to hardship and violence and troubles, not with the Roman occupation of Palestine going on, and none of them would end up immune to any further hardships. Where is the place we most often hear of the apostles being after the resurrection and the birth of the church? Prison. Or at least, it SEEMS like the place we most often find them.

But back to the text: Jesus now DOES warn the disciples: if you are the SOURCE of the troubles, for stumbling, as the NRSV puts it, well … that’s not a good thing. In fact, you’d be better off dead than being the source of the problem. Like we’ve seen before, Jesus is not one to mince words.

The first time it was really made plain to me that what we read in the New Testament as being the conversations of people, or sayings of Jesus, or proclamations of the apostle Paul on his missionary trips, and not just words spoken stiffly, solemnly, as though … well … from behind a pulpit, I suppose you could say, was pretty recently. I was sitting in on a youth Sunday school class, and the teacher was quoting Matthew 16:18:

18 And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my
church,

The teacher made the comment that that was the verse that our Catholic brothers and sisters hold as a key moment in the history of the church, as being the point at which Jesus named Peter to be the foundational leader of the church. Her point was this: She said ‘I imagine if I were there, Jesus would be sitting next to Peter, or standing across from him, and would place his hands on Peter’s chest for the beginning of the verse (and I tell you, you are Peter) and for the second part of the verse (and on this rock …) he’d be gesturing to himself.” “You are Peter, and on THIS rock I will build my church.” It was intriguing to me that I’d never really spent any time thinking about what emphasis was being placed on which words in the sentences in the Bible. I’d seen the italicized words in the King James growing up, but that’s done for another reason.

We have another instance here of a gesture being ‘worded out’.

Picture it: Jesus is talking about facing hardship, and warning against BRINGING hardships. He looks around and there were probably kids running around playing. Their Nintendos had run out of batteries, they were bored. They saw a crowd and decided to investigate. One is running in front of Jesus just then, and as they go by, Jesus grabs the boy and says ‘Be careful! If you crush the spirit of even one of these dear little ones’ There’s no previous reference in the text as to whom Jesus was talking about, so we can only assume that he was talking about someone who was right there, standing next to him or running past him.

That might be an interesting exercise to do sometime: read passages and try to imagine what motions were going along with the words. (Just a thought.)

But now Jesus is coming to the meat of what he wanted to say. He presents the disciples with the real-life example that makes them sit up and take notice: if one of them sins, then the others must rebuke him. And if the offender repents, then there must be forgiveness.

Please note: he didn’t say “if there is repentance, then you can consider one of your options to be to forgive him”, or “you might want to think about forgiving him if there is repentance.”

In the NRSV, the word used is ‘MUST’. In both cases, for both things, they are not optional.

That is hard, but not unexpected. The capper, the demand that Jesus makes of his disciples then and us here today is the next line: Even if it’s personal against you and the offender commits the same act 7 times in a day and comes back to us after each time to ask forgiveness.

WHAT!?!?!?

Oh MAN! I was getting it fine up until that point. Treasure children, don’t be the source of evil, yeah, yeah, I got that part. I can DO that! I really can! Or I’m pretty sure I can!

Now you come out with WHAT??!!

That is nonsense! There’s no point in forgiving if the offender is not going to STOP doing what he’s doing!!! If he can’t stop, he’s sick. Stick him in a magazine rack and call him NEWSWEEK, ‘cause he’s got ISSUES!

A question you’ve heard a couple of times over the lasts few weeks, or something like it: what are we supposed to DO with that, Jesus??!! What did you mean??!!

The disciples come back to Jesus after he tells them to do this incredible thing – this continuous forgiveness in the face of seemingly remorseless sinning, and ask him to increase their faith, assuming that if they have more faith, they will be able to accomplish the task.

It’s a very human way of interpreting the example, a very natural one. It makes sense, doesn’t it? If we are going to do what you just asked us to do, which is OBVIOUSLY something only YOU, Jesus, can currently do, then we must be lacking something in order to accomplish it. That’s got to be faith. So Jesus, grow our faith, makes us spiritual giants like you so we can do this thing again and again and again.

It wasn’t until I read Peterson’s translation that it hit me what Jesus was saying. It’s NOT about having MORE or LESS faith. Faith is faith. You either have it or you don’t. If you have it, you’re my disciples. If you don’t, you’re not. This is not about faith. It’s about obedience.

Then he makes another motion, another gesture at another person in the crowd. Actually, he makes it to two people.

There is no mention of ‘worthless slave’ in the Peterson version of the text, most likely because, as a modern translation, there is no common cultural point of reference with slavery. The reference in Peterson is to a servant, which in our current society is not unheard of, though it IS somewhat rare. In most other ‘standard’ translations, we find some reference to the ‘worthless’ servant or slave in some form or another.

‘Not worthy to serve you’ (NIV), ‘unworthy slaves’ (NASB), ‘unprofitable servants’ (ASV, KJV), ‘unworthy servants’ (AB), the point does come across. If it comes across now, 2000 years after having been written in a culture that is radically different from the one in which it was originally spoken, can you imagine how much more it got across to those who were hearing the words for the first time? I can picture Jesus looking around at the crowd, spotting a wealthy merchant who has a slave standing beside him (or her), and launching into this part of the lesson, gesturing directly to the merchant and the slave. They’ve been following the argument from the beginning, but they weren’t quite getting it either.

I think Jesus was trying to tell them, and us, not only more about what it means to be a disciple of Christ, but also more about God. To show us what kind of God his Abba, his daddy, was and is. Set aside the question of the disconnect between what we (the offenders) say we are (repentant), and what we in fact ACT like (something less than that). Set aside the task of trying to figure out why the actions (repeated offenses of the same kind if not identical ones) are not in line with the words spoken (I’m sorry, please forgive me), and focus on the message.

This isn’t ONLY about what we are supposed to do – directly. It’s about what God does on a routine basis.

We say we’re sorry. We say we won’t sin again. And we try. We really do try. And we fail. Hard as we try, disciplined as we might become, righteous as we work toward being, we ultimately fall short. We may get close, but we ultimately don’t reach perfection in this life. Forgiveness is what God does. Borne out of God’s love, we come to him much more often than 7 times a day, repentant.

If we were to walk up to an apple tree, what kind of fruit would we expect to pull off it? grapes? Of course not. We would expect apples. Jesus is telling us that we as disciples of his must do what comes as part of the normal Christian life.

This is the example we have from God in Christ. Anything else would not be normal.

What does this mean for us here today?

As we read in Philippians Sunday before last, Jesus made himself nothing, a servant, obedient, even to death on a cross.

Likewise, we are to follow in his steps. Take on the mind of Christ, as Paul said, and become obedient. Obeying means, very simply: doing what we are told to do. If Jesus has told us to be bold and rebuke, we are to do so. If Jesus has told us to be gracious and forgive in the face of repentance, we are to do that as well. But we shouldn’t expect any special notice, any unusual recognition for it.

That’s what we’re SUPPOSED to be doing all along. That’s just part of being a little Christ.

Following Christ is not a matter of living our lives like WE want to live them and occasionally rising above that and glimmering with the light of Christ in us for a few minutes. It’s about learning to change our ways and conform them to his. Conform. Like form. Form WITH. BE LIKE.

So, the question again, from the beginning of the message: how much is too much forgiveness? You tell me. Christ tells us to ask God to forgive us our trespasses even as we forgive those who trespass against us. Can we imagine the situation if God were to run out of forgiveness?

Let’s pray.

Hearts and Minds

Sunday, September 26th, 2004
17th after Pentecost
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
Luke 16:19-31

19 ‘There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. 20And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, 21who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. 22The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. 23In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. 24He called out, “Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.” 25But Abraham said, “Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. 26Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.” 27He said, “Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father’s house— 28for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.” 29Abraham replied, “They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.” 30He said, “No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.” 31He said to him, “If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.”’

The night before last there was a story on the news, I can’t remember which station it was out of Richmond, but it was a story about how someone had set fire to a 6 week old kitten. The kitten survived, and is being cared for, but what struck me about the news story was that, in the course of introducing it, there were at least three different occasions where the anchor or the reporter warned the audience that ‘some of the images included in this report are graphic, and may not be suitable for all viewers.”

Just thinking back over the last few weeks, it feels like I’ve been doing a lot of confessing from up here.

Well, I’ve got another confession to make:

This is one of those parables that make me real uneasy.

Why?

Because it is so graphic.

There’s a man covered with sores,
There are dogs licking them,
There’s a place of torment,
There’s agony,
And there’s that statement at the end …

The one that basically says ‘you had your chance … and you blew it’.

It makes me uncomfortable because it goes against my concept of an ever-redeeming, loving and patient God. But then, this isn’t so much a statement about God as it is about us as humans, is it? it is an aspect of life and faith that we need to be reminded of – that we mentioned a couple of weeks ago – there are eternal consequences for temporal – or earthly – decisions we make.

Just like that news story brought to the forefront of my conscience the fact that there are broken people in this broken world who would torture animals, seemingly just because they can, and go on about their lives, with little or no regret or sense of guilt about what they’d done.

I’ll admit, there is DEFINITELY a sense of ‘just rewards’ being meted out at the end of this parable, but it still causes some discomfort, when I stop and think about how wealthy I am, in relation to the millions of starving people in the world, as Leslie mentioned in her report to the RBA Executive Committee Thursday night, the estimated 1 billion people in the world who survive on less than a dollar a day, THAT’S when I start to feel uncomfortable.

While there is SOME reassurance in the fact that this was a PARABLE, and meant to be taken more as an object lesson rather than a literal description of what might await us at the end of our lives, the point is still … pointed.

The juxtaposition of a beggar, named Lazarus (and a named character in a parable was unusual, to say the least), and a nameless rich man, and how their lives were here on earth and what happens to them in the hereafter … it just makes for a disquieting story.

But then, that was the whole point, wasn’t it? To make the folks who heard it uneasy. To make them THINK about how they were living their lives.

Jesus has been talking to and about Pharisees in the passages that led up to this one, and his whole thrust has been to lay before them the fact that they do not practice what they preach. Hop back up to verse 13 in the same chapter:

13 No slave can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth."
14The Pharisees, who were lovers of money, heard all this, and they ridiculed him. 15 So he said to them, "You are those who justify yourselves in the sight of others; but God knows your hearts; for what is prized by human beings is an abomination in the sight of God.

Jesus was being his usual ‘in your face’ storyteller with these people. It doesn’t get any plainer than ‘YOU ARE THOSE’.

And yet, what happened in the end?

They crucified him.

What happened after he rose from the dead?

They denied that it happened. They completely and utterly turned their backs to it, and pretended it never happened.

It is not a new phenomenon. Modern day psychiatry has named it appropriately: Denial. It is a psychological response to an event or situation that is simply too much to accept. We know it happens on an emotional and psychological level. It happens on a physical level as well. Have you ever heard of ghost pains? It’s where amputees still feel sensation from a non-existent arm or leg, even years after it is gone.

On a spiritual level, it is no different. How often do we close ourselves off to the possibilities when we are confronted with a spiritual event that goes against what we are used to, what we are comfortable with, what we can understand and predict?

What does that say about our ability as humans to deny the truth? To reject a revelation so transformative, so radical, so completely opposite to what we perceive the world around us to be, that we would rather hide our hearts and close our minds, shut out the possibilities God has in store for us if we only give in, and give up this utterly senseless notion that we are in some way able to control how and when God is going to move in, through, and around us?

It is for us to be humble, willing and obedient, not self-important or boastful of having an inside track on God’s will.

So what does this mean for Jerusalem Baptist Church at Emmerton?

The obvious, of course: We care for those in our community who need caring for. We care for each other – within the congregation and without.

The trickier part is keeping our hearts and minds … moldable, impressionable, and teachable. We keep an eye and an ear out for the voice of God in a whisper, in a presence, in a passing comment. We check our vanity and our position at the door and enter into this journey as fellow pilgrims, helping each other along while all the time following Jesus.

Let’s pray.