Mother’s Day has become an important day on the Church Calendar. We rightly celebrate those who sacrificed to bring us into the world. Instead of the traditional two-rose vase, our church has three roses. The red rose is for all living mothers, still around to bless us. The white rose is for those mothers who are no longer with us, but whose influence is still powerfully felt. We add a pink rose. This is so no woman will need to dread Mother’s Day because she is not a biological mother. There are many good women who are unable to bear children. That need not be a stigma. Adoptive Moms and others who mothered young people into the Christian faith; who taught us to pray and the revere the scriptures. There are so many contributions by mothers past or present, and in any other way to nurture God’s children. Happy Mother’s Day! 

 The Preacher Says:

            Maybe ya’ll have heard the latest hit from Political Correctness absurdity: “master bedroom.” “Owner’s Suite” is much less offensive, sexist, racist. Before long Mother’s Day may be next, as the institution of marriage is in a state of flux. But without a doubt Proverbs 31 was written for RI moms: V. 21 “She’s not afraid of snow, and all her children are dressed in red!”

            Tony Campolo once told me he was preaching on this text to a youth group, and began with Vs. 10: “Who can find a virtuous woman, her price is far above rubies?” And before he could finish, some wise guy yelled, “What’s Ruby’s price?” (He’s coming in Sept for our 375^th anniversary celebration. Tony will tickle your funnie bones.) But motherhood is no joke.

            Just as there’s no one biblical view of marriage, neither is there one biblical view of motherhood. No simple set of instructions on how to be a mom. St. Paul had some specific rules about how fathers should relate to their sons. But he doesn’t mention their mothers. However there are several biblical-but-not-sentimental case studies. The scriptures are too realistic for sugar-coated idealism. They hide neither the successes nor failures of those who brought us into the world. Some succeeded wonderfully, and others failed miserably. Something can be learned from each on this 99^th Mother’s Day.

            One of the earliest biblical Moms is Rebecca. She and Isaac had twin boys. Her story in the Book of Genesis can be defined as “deception:” the age-old no-no of showing favorites between her kids. For some reason she just cottoned-to Jacob more than Esau. While that is natural, it need not be detrimental. Like when she plotted against her blind husband so her fave could gain the advantage of the birthright that rightfully belonged to the elder son. This unfairness contributed long afterwards to Jacob’s dishonesty. He learned it from his Mamma. Her scheming was formative and ensures that those who play loose with the truth can expect more of the same from their kids.

            Another Mother is Jochebed, the mother of Moses, who was “resourceful.” When she gave birth to her son, she was a slave down in Egypt. As the Hebrew nation grew too large, Pharaoh passed a cruel law: all the newborn were to be destroyed. Jochebed evaded detection by hiding her son in a floating bassinette among the bullrushes of the Nile. So when baby Moses was discovered by Pharaoh’s own daughter, she was so impressed at his mother’s ingenuity, that instead of whacking him, she adopted him! We see where Moses got the imagination to one day become the Deliverer of the people of God. What a great leader he grew up to be! Gave to the world the ten commandments and ethical living. Is it any surprise that one of them says “Obey thy father and mother?” Moses was blessed to have a mother with creative resourcefulness. She found a way, under horrible circumstances, to give her son an opportunity. It’s an inspiring example to all mothers.

            By contrast, there is Herodias, an infamous mother, who lived during the time of Jesus. She had a checkered marital career, divorcing her husband Philip, to marry his brother Herod Antipas, who was Tetrarch of Galilee. She did it because something was in it for her. When John the Baptist exposed her infidelity, she wanted his head on a platter! And got it, by manipulating the king into a promise when her daughter Salome performed what later came to be called the “dance of the 7 veils.”  Herodias used her daughter to get what she wanted. This time her treachery took the life of a good man. Jesus said of him, “there was none greater than John.” Hers is an extreme example, but it still shows up in today’s mothers.

            Because it’s so easy to confuse our love for a child with absorbing the child, where they become an extension of her own personality. I’ve had street people come in holding up their babies, while asking for a handaout. It’s Herodias deja vu: to live out our desires through someone else. Herodias represents the domineering, my way or no way mothers, who not only warp their kids but do great harm to others. Check out that raving Chechnyan mother Zubeidat’s influence on her sons: “I don’t care if my son is dead!” Or somebody else’s 8 year old son.

            And then there’s Mother Hannah, among the famous Moms in all the Bible. Her son Samuel, became one of Israel’s greatest prophets. The word to describe Hannah fits most Moms: “dedication.” She was barren and wanted to conceive so badly she made a pact with God: If he would give her a son, she would regard him as a hallowed gift from heaven and raise him in the temple. The realization that our children don’t belong to us, but come through us, from God, is the beginning of wisdom. Baptists don’t baptize infants but we do have infant and parental dedications at the church, because of the inspiration from Mother Hannah. Dedication to good parenting is the one thing guaranteed to make the world better.

            The next Mother is not mentioned by name in the Bible. She’s known only in relation to her two sons: James and John, who were disciples of the Lord. This woman was overly “ambitious.” Her singular appearance was to hit-up on Jesus to reserve a place of honor for her boys in the coming kingdom of God. She couldn’t help herself: typical Jewish Mamma. She wants only the best for her boys! She could just envision James on the left hand and John on the right hand in glory! (And her next to them?) Pushing her sons on somebody else betrayed her driving expectation that characterized her method of mothering. “My sons will be better than everybody else’s!”  And I will be viewed as exceptional because of their standing.

             Is it any wonder that their nicknames were the “sons of thunder?” As again, a mother’s aggressive arranging is transferred to her kids. How unfair to endow a child with an unrealistic sense of superiority! God help the child who can’t live up to irrational expectations! It’s demoralizing to anyone to never be able to please the most important person in your life. Or live up to the grandiose hopes laid upon you by a “prestige-conscious” Mamma. It takes a delicate balance, because we all want our kids to do well. We properly take delight in who our children are and enable them to strive to better themselves — but not in order to out-do somebody else’s kids. Too much ambition for our offspring can be debilitating. Ask those Samaritans that the “sons of thunder” tried to get Jesus to nuke!

            I recently watched a re-run of the classic Tom Hanks film, “Forrest Gump.” Sally Field played the role of a great Mom. Opposite of Mrs. Zebedee; incredibly patient, who kept her frustrations in tow. It paid off in molding a beautifully, simple, well-lived son, by teaching him how to love somebody.

            There’s one other unnamed mother who epitomizes motherhood at its best. It’s a story about how to settle an unusual dispute: two women, fighting over the same baby! One was the real mother, the other one was a fake. These ladies shared a house together and each of them had children about the same age. One of the mothers accidentally rolled-over on her son and woke up the next morning to find him dead. So while the other mother slept, she swapped the dead baby with the live one and at sun-up all hell broke loose! “This is my baby! No it’s mine!”  The conflict couldn’t be resolved so they came before King Solomon. And the first thing he did was to call for a sword! Why does he want a sword? Lord have mercy! He’s gonna slice-the-kid-in-two and give half to each mother! I think he was just kidding, because at this staggering suggestion, the real mother reacted in horror and sacrificed her motherhood to save the life of her baby. The pretender gave herself away by agreeing to the proposal. That’s how Solomon determined the true mother and awarded her with the rightful custody of her child.

            This incident not only displayed the wisdom of Solomon but it also reflects on what makes a good mother: to sacrifice her own desires for the welfare of her children. The best word to describe this biblical mother is “sacrifice.” That’s why we have Mother’s Day. Just as every mother suffers physically in birthing a baby, even more so, raising a child from womb to tomb involves so many costly acts of self-giving. It’s impossible to number them all. What St. Paul wrote applies to good parenting: one who “believes all things, bears all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

            There’s one other thing I would point out that comes from having a Mom and living with a good one for over 50 years: Motherhood is an open-ended challenge. I think it’s understandable to look upon our kid’s behavior as a reflection on ourselves. To some extent that may be true. But in the end they are free to determine the way they will live. Giving birth just sets the stage for what’s to come. The rest depends on what they do with it. Thankfully, most do good things. But some aren’t above doing awful things. Having a baby won’t automatically turn a woman into a saint! Some women rise to great heights; others give in to their lower temptations. Motherhood is ultimately determined by what each woman and her child makes of it. The decisive factor is not physical but spiritual.

            In one of the non-canonical apocryphal books, there’s a mythical tale about a religious man who was jealous of Jesus’ reputation, because Jesus’ innate goodness made his own religion appear to be lacking. So he decided to bring Jesus down a notch by humiliating him in public. He devised a plot: To trick Jesus by holding a baby bird, asking whether it was dead or alive. If Jesus said “dead,” the man would open his hands and say wrong, “He’s alive.” If Jesus said “alive,” he would squeeze the life out of it and say wrong, “It’s dead.” Either way Jesus was bound to be discredited.  Confident of his ruse, he approached Jesus and said: “I have this baby bird in my hands. Is it dead or alive?” After a long pause, Jesus bent over and wrote something in the dirt: “The answer is … in your hands.”

            That is the most profound biblical insight into motherhood. No specific instruction; but many examples, that teach us: motherhood is what each mother chooses to make it. So what kind of mothers will you be?” The answer is … in your hands.

 Providence Prayers: Mother’s Day May 12, 2013

            Here in this house of prayer, where we become a part of something bigger than we are, Lord God, accept our gratitude for all the ways we are blessed.  While the headlines beat us down, may this place revive our spirits in a world that kills the things it loves and hates. For meaningful worship, good music that lifts us, and the scriptures, inspiring us with the hope that tomorrow will be better than today, we give Thee thanks.

            Because we can learn to pray only by praying, we bring before Thee now, our prayers, unfinished as they always are. But ever thankful for this family of faith, that keeps us from resigning ourselves to that which ought to be resisted.  For those who grace our lives by giving us to see the interim character of the little systems in which we take such pride. May this hour remind us of the big picture. For this historic congregation and those within it who translate the wisdom of the past into guidelines for the future. And those in the present who translate their faith in Christ into nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and service seen only by Thee.

            Out of Thy infinite love our Father, minister to us according to our several needs. We pray for our families. Give us mastery over our moodiness and petulance; the ability to smile, even on the worst of days; the stamina to persevere when the prize eludes our grasp; the courage to resume life alone, after parting from a companion of many years; the faith to believe that you are, even when it doesn’t look like it; the grace to admit our mistakes and the humility to accept forgiveness. While we need each other to lift us out of ourselves, remind us that what holds us together keeps others away. For all of our false starts and broken promises grant us the faith to see Thee as Thou art, so that we may praise Thee as we ought.  Through Christ our Lord.

  On the Sixth Sunday of Easter, the text for today is from John’s Gospel, where seven of Jesus’ disciples led by Peter, are back to fishing where they began, at the Sea of Galilee.  For them it was a wise move.  But for Jesus, it created a crisis that called for his special attention.  They were not having much luck fishing.  When Jesus helped them make a huge catch, they recognized him. This story shows what his closest followers did after the episodic events of Easter and how the risen Lord fills both empty nets and empty hearts by challenging us to “tend his lambs and feed his sheep.”   

Hear the Sermon.

The Preacher Says:      

            Till this past December, the last pre-owned car we bought was in the 20^th century. It was 14 years old when we traded it. Operating that car was simple. But between 1999 and 2011, the model we purchased, is too smart for me! It has buttons that I’m not sure what they do. Yeah we read the directions! But after 55 years driving, I need directions? I can make it start. It’ll go and stop and back up with a camera! That’s all I need to know. I leave rest to Libby and get back to doing something I know how to do. Technology is off the map. The speed of life jerks us around, without the luxury of time to absorb it. So we watch as sane people try to make sense of the recent irrational evil up in Boston.

            That’s precisely where we find Jesus’ disciples in the 2^nd ending of the 4^th Gospel. They’d been riding an “emotional roller coaster” since Good Friday. Then came Easter. Trying to keep up with Jesus will wear you out, so they decided to return to something they’re good at ‑- fishing. Their theological underpinnings yanked out from under them:  how does God fits into this world with so much evil in it? Most folks hope God will just do whatever God does, without involving us too deeply. It’s understandable to wanta step aside, as the world turns. But the surest thing I can say about the Season of Easter is: God’s not finished with us yet. He pursues us as Jesus did the disciples up in the Galilee; prodding us not to give up on our mission in life.

            The Sea of Galilee was a safe harbor for the disciples. It was a long way from Jerusalem. For the fishermen, it’s what they knew, and done for years; before Jesus showed up and called them to follow him. Now that Jesus wasn’t around full-time anymore, no need to be “fishing for men.” They’re outa their league at that anyhow. So they returned to their vocation of fishing for fish. But they weren’t very successful at that anymore either! But they still had the gift of another day, and they tried to make the most of it. Sort of.

            On an earlier day, Jesus challenged them to “drop their nets and he’d light up their lives!” They were captivated by his magnetism. It was the privilege of a lifetime, to witness the miracles of God. The lame walked, the blind saw, the deaf heard, and the naked clothed and the hungry were fed. Think of the Sunday School class they attended, to be taught the Bible by the Guy who inspired it! And then that fateful day, when Jesus got himself crucified for sedition. Then the 3^rd Day. Their heads spinning, as the women reported that Jesus came back from the grave, broke the chains of death! Harken back to that day Jesus gave Simon Peter instant status when he’d be “the rock” on which his church would be built. “Visions of sugar plums danced in his head!” Alas, Simon’s loyalty turned out to be worse than Judas.’ He only gave up on Jesus one time.

            Maggie Thatcher is said to have said: “If you want something said, get a man. If you want something done, get a woman!” It sure sounds like her. That’s Jesus with his disciples. The time for words is over. It’s time to get something done. It’s not enough for Peter to say he loves Jesus; even 3 times. Jesus said, “It’s time to tend my lambs.” I’m sure those of us who are fortunate enough to still be here understand the grace of another day. Those who left us yesterday have run out of tomorrows. How blessed we are to enjoy the grace of this day! Because after so many days, who doesn’t take them for granted? The scriptures are full of grace-days. When Zechariah and Elizabeth were beyond the age of bearing children, John the Baptist was born. Elijah, was at the point of suicide when God said “Stop pitying yourself and get back in the fight.” Paul was confronted on his the way to Damascus to persecute the church; then started planting churches.

            Today’s gospel is a story of somebody who felt outa place, being given a 2^nd chance. As we move through our 375^th anniversary celebration, what a day it was when God granted Roger Williams, the grace of another day on this continent. And look what he did with it! And that’s the thing about days. We’re all alike in that, everybody has days. It’s what we do with them that matters. We come to church to think about that. Because a lotta people do awful things with their days. When life ambushes at Saturday night’s parties, Sunday morning worship allows us to pause, and seek the will of God for our lives.

            I’ve never seen much future in developing a theology of the afterlife. It’ll all pan out in the end. But everybody has some view of heaven: Streets of gold; white robes; musical harps; angelic choirs. My Daddy asked me once, “I Wonder if there’ll be fishing in heaven?” I couldn’t tell him no. No doubt Jesus’ disciples would love it! Cause fishing is a constant exercise in hope. Why not? My view of heaven – is being given the gift of another day; in another way, in another place. Not to vegetate but to cultivate. There’ll be no need for rocking chairs! Maybe motorbikes, but no rocking chairs! When Peter tried to go back to his boat and rocking chair, John shows how God can be a bigger interruption than any terrorist! Jesus reappeared after Easter to disrupt the disciples and provide them with a dose of reality; renewing their call to serve.

            Too often we’re like that cartoon of the man with frizzed hair, legs trembling, shirttail hanging-out, saying, “Doctor, I’d like to see things a little less clearly!” Just to float around in our safe harbors; retreat into the consolation of “what we’re good at.” How irritating to have to grow, or try something new. To look forward instead of backward.   What if Peter had been like one of these May Day protesters, “Let somebody else feed your lambs. Loving you should suffice?” How much can a guy take? This isn’t fair.” Yeah if it was “fair” it wouldn’t be grace. So another day is an occasion to not make the same mistake twice; to turn your creeds into deeds.

            The grace of another day brings with it the challenge to change. Maybe you’ve seen that “holy guacamole” slogan: “Prayer changes things.” To which I like to add: “If not it changes us.” Some changes are welcome: Getting well from surgery; graduating from school; moving to a better situation. But most changes get us out of our routine because all transitions are ambivalent. In every change, we stand to gain something we didn’t have; and lose something we had. Jesus’ appearance to the disciples meant they had to change; to face what they were running from. Facing something we dread, distorts how we see ourselves, and others, and God.

            Mark Twain said, “You can’t see clearly when your imagination’s out of focus.” That’s why Jesus appeared by the sea — to refocus  his  fledgling church. “You can’t see clearly when your faith’s unfocused.” John’s focus is on the disciples. Because it’s hard to imagine what Jesus must’ve felt. Those on the boat were the heart of the team he spent his ministry preparing. Everything he did depended upon them. And they’re spending the night fishing? Didn’t anything he stood for get through to them? Was it to all end there, full-circle, where it began? Only 7 of the original 12 were left. And all they had, is what we have — the grace of another day. Another day for Peter to make amends; still time to become the fiery preacher of Pentecost; to reach out to the Gentile Cornelius, to be delivered from prison; to deserve to carry the “keys to the kingdom,” to live up to his name “Rocky;” and then to finally run out of days in Rome, where he was martyred.

            I recently saw the move “Flight,” starring Denzel Washington.  I recommend it. It’s about a plane crash, but it’s more about addiction. So like with Simon Peter, there’s plenty of lying, denial, and failure. Even though he was a brilliant pilot, who saved lots of lives in a crisis. After much misery, in terms of destroyed relationships, he finally faced his dilemma and for once, told the truth – admitting that he was stoned when the plane went down. He could’ve lied again and gotten away with it. But because this time he manned-up, he ended-up being sent to the penitentiary, where he had no choice but to be sober. The final line in the film was classic. He’s speaking to an AA group describing his painful story: “This may sound strange to ya’ll, coming from the jailhouse. But for the 1^st time in my life … I’m free.” That’s the best thing about having days – even behind bars, we can turn it around — if we have the guts to face whatever it is we’re running away from.

            Another day. So common. Just a little thing. 24 hours. They come and go with regularity. For the miserable, they never seem to end. For the happy, they fly by way too fast! It’s the way we navigate through this thing called “life.” Nevertheless, Jesus makes it clear that the gift of life is not to be taken lightly. The worst thing anybody can do is waste a life: theirs or somebody else’s. God knows, sooner or later the day’s coming when there are no more days.

            That’s when Jesus got out of his pastoral role with Peter and into the prophetic role: “Someday, when you grow old. You’re gonna stretch out your hands, and somebody else will take you to where you don’t wanta go.”  Taken! Do you feel the helplessness of that? He’s telling not just Peter, but all of us: now is your opportunity to get it right. Like the hymn, “Dear Lord and Father of Mankind” puts it: “In simple trust like theirs who heard, beside the Syrian sea, the gracious calling of the Lord. Let us, like them, without a word, rise up and follow thee.”

 Providence Prayers: (5/5/13)

            Gracious God, we thank Thee for the gift of another day to straighten out the messes we’ve made. We confess that often we are tempted as Simon Peter was to retreat from what we know we must do. Give us the courage to answer again your call to be your people on this day and in this place. It’s so easy Lord, to go back to the old ways, and familiar routines. It’s one way we feel at home in an unpredictable world. How do we find the strength to leave our way of life behind and step out into something new?   

            The radiance of your presence only underlines the absence of our faith.  Forgive us for letting living take the place of loving.  Once you called us to follow, now show us how to serve: all you place in our path–the stranger, the sick, the desperate, the grieving and the suffering; those who have a hard time believing in themselves.  We would not forget all who face difficult decisions, which once they are made, have definite consequences. 

            On this fine day we proclaim with our lips that you are the Son of God! May we leave this place more able to show in our lives that we are the people of God. With our words, we confess our love for you. With our deeds, enable us to confess your love for the world. Through Christ our Lord.

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            In the Season of Lent, on Maundy Thursday, we gathered for worship that ended with the Last Supper. Today we gather in the Season of Easter to celebrate the First Breakfast. Come, let us gather around the Banquet Table of God and have breakfast!

Our scripture lesson for the Fifth Sunday of Easter comes from the pen of the Apostle Paul, to his favorite church in Philippi. The Apostle highlights his pride and confidence in his Jewish heritage. Then, utilizing the language of “gain and loss,” he reports how he traded his way of being religious, based on human works and past performance for righteousness based on divine grace, and future possibility he is yet to achieve. Paul strives for the goal to be like Jesus, but faith means it’s a process, not an achievement. Thus, to be “mature in Christ,” is an honest recognition of the incompleteness of our existence. 

Hear the sermon.

The Preacher Says:

            The wisdom literature in Ecclesiastes is eternally true: “there’s a time for everything under the sun!” Today we might re-word it: “There’s a TV show for everything you can think of.” Unbelievable stuff like Honey Boo Boo, the Kardashians or that marriage-gown thing. Gag! But the one that bothers me most is “Hoarders.” In our Sun City days our church had a ministry of selling the belongings of widows who died, with no kin to leave it to. I’ll never forget one house. Corner lot. Desert landscape. It was a nice house — on the outside. But the inside was stuffed to the brim, with so much junk you could barely move.  There was a tiny pathway between stacks of books, trinkets, 50 pairs of shoes and 10 bathing suits, never used. But it was there, taking up space.

            It reminded me of the on-going conflict with my wife about buying things. I am losing that battle. And have been for a long time. She and I are just wired differently. I can get by with a lot less. So when I go to the grocery store, it’s to get what I’m out of. Only that and no more. She comes in with 4-5 boxes of stuff and no place to put it! In case we might need it, which we usually do. Eventually. Sometimes when she’s away I’ll slip and get rid of stuff. Or put it someplace, out of sight. I think it’s because I have a knack for the obvious: Take care of what you have. When it breaks and of no value anymore, then toss it away. Simple, right? But then I got married. And the recipe changed. Now it’s take care of what you have. And pile it in the closet or the garage, or haul it around in the car! Which becomes a moveable closet! The latest surprise came this morning when I got in the shower there was a bunch of floating medicine bottles in a container. When I inquired as to what that might be, the reply was to “keep you on your toes!” You’ll have to ask her about that one!

            Every time we move, we get rid of stuff that we no longer need. For awhile. For awhile, everything has a place. Soon, stuff has a way of accumulating. If you have a place to put something, you’re gonna put something in it. Shelves. Attics. God help those with a basement! Ya’ll know what I’m talking about? I suspect this is common for everybody’s house; as ordinary as living in a family. We have things. And things get used. Then they get used up. And when the useful becomes useless, it’s appropriate to dispose of it. But on rare occasions, somebody throws something away that is valuable. Sometimes it’s a mistake. Sometimes it’s a life!

           When we lived in Portland, Or we’d take those who came to visit the great Northwest, to the End of the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center. Housed in a huge Conestoga wagon, complete with canvas roof, it portrayed the treacherous trek of those migrating westward, who traversed the great Plains and the Rockies and the snow. They frequently had to unburden the wagons that were too heavy to continue. When they got to the Barlow Road near Mt. Hood, they had to lower the wagons with a rope wrapped around a tree, over a deep ravine. Some weighed a couple of tons and had to be reduced. Often they crashed below. But it was worth the gamble; the advantage being, it kept them from having to float down the perilous Columbia River.

            The Bible knows about this. Jesus’ disciples were on board a ship in a storm. They had to bail out the water or be swamped. In the Book of Jonah, HE was the cargo tossed overboard, for survival’s sake. In our case it’s the luxury of having too much. For those on the frontier and the boats, it’s a matter of life and death. Even that which was valuable had to go, for a greater good. This experience of lightening our load is the topic of today’s scripture lesson. It fell to St. Paul to throw away something very valuable. He wrote about it in a letter to his favorite church in Philippi. Oh Paul loved that place! He has a revealing phrase about how valuable his religious up-bringing was to him. (Vs.  4-6). Paul was proud of his heritage; his Hebrew background; a Jew among Jews. He could out-brag any rabbi. He saw himself as wealthy, but not for what he has. His pride lay in who he was. His genealogy, his connections. Belonging to the House of Israel meant everything to Paul. And rightly so. The Jews kept the flame of faith burning when the rest of the world was in darkness. Moses gave us the ten commandments and ethical living that shaped three great Abrahamic religions. His pride in his identity was without peer.

            Now around here, it’s fashionable to rebel and give up your early religious training or become the polar opposite. Except that some rapper went the other way, and joined with the Amish! But I come across people who experiment with a different religion for notoriety. I recently heard an enlightened student who came to Brown as a “secular humanist,” tested them all and finally settled on the Islamic faith. Others just give up on God and their early church training altogether. Especially if they were “made to go to church.” So they can’t wait for the freedom to jettison all that old fashioned stuff! Or become a Jew.

            That’s not how Paul got there. He wasn’t a Jew because he gave up something to be Jewish. He as born a Jew. Got it through his mamma’s milk. He wasn’t religious because his elitist buddies thought it was hip. Circumcised on the 8^th day. That’s not cool! His tribe was Benjamin. Smallest in size, but gave Israel her first King, for whom he got his name, Saul. He was proud of that, not ashamed! He was even proud of being a Pharisee, that a lotta folks disparage. Not Paul. Because the word “Pharisee” is harmless; it just means somebody who loves and lives by the Bible. Some in our day would make that something to be ashamed of. Not Paul. When the temple was destroyed by the Babylonians, guess who came up with the idea of a synagogue? The Pharisees. They preserved the Hebrew faith in exile, when there was no temple, and it could’ve been dispersed among the pagan culture. Paul was proud of that and lived by the Book. So whoever threatened or weakened or mocked the scriptures, had to answer to him!  Nobody could be more Jewish than Paul. His background, his training.

            And yet … this same guy said, “I count it all as garbage!” This is not a man who regrets his past; or somebody burdened with guilt for being privileged, or resentful of “being made to go to church.” Not at all. Everything Paul cited from his religious heritage made the world a better place. All of it was admirable. None of it is comparable to what we hear when some ne’er-do-well gets miraculously converted and gives up drinking or drugs or sex or whatever…and cleans up his life, now that he’s “found Jesus.” This is not foregoing bad habits, or “lay the Devil down” theology. Before he met Christ on the Damascus Road, you’d find plenty of good things. “Nevertheless,” he “counted it all as loss.” Why throw away something good? If it wasn’t what we see on college campuses today, what else was it?  “Well I reckon all my friends are quitting the church, and denounce their parent’s efforts to ‘train up a child the way he should go,’ and become an agnostic or something.” That wasn’t Paul.

            Then why on earth? He didn’t have to. Nobody made him. Any church would love to have Paul as a member! He wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. He was honest, a social activist, could sing and pray and preach, followed the 10 commandments. And he was a tither! No church would say no to Paul. Or he could do what a lotta folks do, just come to church, pick and choose what suits you. Who would’ve faulted him? Why throw away what he just called good? It might’ve had something to do with Jesus. (Ya’ll knew Jesus was around there someplace, didn’t you!) Paul did what Jesus did, descended into greatness. “He emptied himself, left heaven behind and became one of us, and was obedient to the death, even on a cross.” If Christ could do that, how can we do any less? 

            One of the in-words awhile ago was “Upward Mobility.” That wasn’t his direction. His is “Downward mobility!” Seated at the RH of God the father in heaven, with all the perks therein: Streets of gold, 10,000 angels, Mormon Tabernacle Choir, praise, joy. But he said goodbye to all that, to come down here and live and die among his “frail children of light.” How can we be content to just tack-on a little church here and there, just enough to ensure our destiny? How can we push our own agendas, our own achievements, when these two left it all at the heavenly dump to become servants?

            I think I know why Paul did that. Because he believed that if you’re gonna be a Christian, then you oughta be like Jesus. Good religion is as simple as that. And take all those other good things we do to the dump. God keeps yelling: “Don’t sweat the small stuff!” Our pride in being correct; our causes, our agenda; our calendar to which we may or may not add a little church … take it to the dump, so we can be like Jesus. That’s how Paul believed. Be like Jesus, turn your nouns into verbs: to love, to faith, to give, to serve, to bless somebody.

            Now don’t get me wrong. Paul would be the first to admit he hasn’t arrived yet. He has a long way to go to be like Jesus. But that’s his goal. I can’t think of a better one. He’s single-minded in trying to be like Jesus. Running toward the finish line: heart pumping, temples pounding, muscles aching, face sweating … striving to be like Jesus. Now we all know Paul is a rare bird. Few people take Jesus as seriously as he did. But I got this “bee in my bonnet” to tell ya’ll about him in the context of the worship of God. Because every once in awhile, somebody comes along like Paul and wants to be like Jesus — just in case it might be one of you.

 Providence Prayers: (4/28/13)

            Grant us O God, in this hour of worship an eye for beauty, an ear for truth, and a heart that hungers after Thee. We thank Thee for being so easy to find ‑‑ wherever there is love.  May this worship give us a heart without boundaries, trials that make us strong, sorrow that makes us human and mistakes that keep us humble. Show us that to live more abundantly, we must not let our materialism blinds us to our mission. 

            Jesus showed us “the way, the truth, and the life,” but we prefer our own prescriptions to his. Instead of searching for truth, we’re in denial. He taught us to love, we’d rather win. He stooped to the lowly, we try to impress the powerful. We prefer the admiration of others than to make you smile. Some like Jesus are losing their lives to save it, others take life and lose it.

             Equip us to watch over this flock that’s been entrusted to our care, the stranger, the sick, the lonely and isolated, the grieving and the successful.  Challenge us and encourage us O God, for we need both direction and consolation.  May this hour lift all who are downcast by the inexplicable quirks of life.  Grant us what we need to be more like Jesus: a sharp mind, a tender heart, a forgiving spirit, indifference to style, respect for the scriptures, a readiness to pray, clarity of vision of to act courageously even if it’s costly and the grace to be possessed by something worth serving.

            As we strive for ways to keep our footing in a slippery time, we pray for insight in dealing with humanity’s greatest problem: trying “to gain the world but not lose our souls.” May it be our joy and uppermost intention to rest in Thee, work for Thee, to become like Thee.  Through Christ our Lord.

Our text for the fourth Sunday after Easter comes from St. Paul’s Corinthian Correspondence.  The Apostle is astounded that some were “denying the resurrection.” He did not take it lightly and pushed the skeptics in the church to think through the implications of their position. The resurrection of Christ is the keystone in the arch of the Christian faith.  Remove it and the entire arch crumbles. If the resurrection was a hoax, “we are of all people most pitied.” So Paul concludes with a reaffirmation of Easter: “But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have died” (v. 20). Our destiny is indissolubly linked with the destiny of Christ.  That should be a reason for hope.

Hear the sermon

The Preacher Says:

            All the religions of the world have similarities and tenets that set them apart: like re-incarnation, idol worship, holy war, (or unholy as it were). But among the world’s religions, one thing distinguishes Christianity from the others — resurrection. No immortality.  Resurrection. We’re in the season of Easter, so my question is “what’s at stake in the resurrection?” Christianity stands or falls on that.

              Resurrection can’t be proved or tested, like gravity or true north. It is non-material reality. And that’s why Paul was pushing it so hard at the church in Corinth. Those folks, like us, were fervent materialists: big eaters, binge drinkers; gargantuan appetites in every department. And they liked their religious truths with immediate results. No inconvenient dangling. Anything that happened outside of their daily experience didn’t interest them much. The Corinthian philosophy was: grab all the gusto you can get and “let the dead bury the dead.”

            On the other hand Paul believed life is more than what we see, taste, touch or smell. He encountered an invisible, spiritual dimension that was as real as the nose on their faces.  And if they missed out on it, then they were “of all people to be most pitied.”  (Some manuscripts say “miserable.”) But he couldn’t let ‘em slide on this because of his experience on the Damascus Road; where a flash of light and a voice out of nowhere brought about a complete transformation in his world view, by Someone who’s supposed to be dead and gone!  That’ll get your attention!

            He learned all he needed to know about resurrection in that one blinding moment, namely, that this thing we call “God” is way bigger than anything we can imagine. So he postulates: if God can raise the dead ‑- and if we can believe that God can raise the dead -‑ then our despair is temporary and our hope is invincible.  Not because we figured it all out, but because God knows how to “breathe new life into dry bones” (Ez. 37:1-14).

            The Apostle’s task wasn’t easy. Try talking to someone today about “resurrection” and see the response. Still he persisted because of what’s at stake.  Everything in life or death depended upon it. Throw that out and this is all there is. Lord I hope not! So Paul was incredulous that some would question the validity of resurrection.  He bolsters his point with “if/then” logic. “If there’s no resurrection, then Christ was not raised. And if Christ was not raised, then our preaching is in vain…your faith is pointless…you’re still in your sins.  And we’re without hope.”

            “If this life only,” is the only one there is; bound only by birth and death, “We are of all people most miserable!” “If this life only” is all we get, then Christianity is the hoax of all history. And there’s no such thing as “little green apples,” or forgiveness or grace of mercy.  Without a resurrection the gospels are fraudulent fairy tales.

            Everything rides on it. Without the third day, Good Friday is meaningless; Jesus is a cruel joke; and this historic Meeting House, 375 years old would, after all be … just a museum. If there’s no Easter, the Church is even more irrelevant and out-of-step with our entertainment-addicted, status-seeking, power-hungry culture than we think. Death is the end of the story; and God’s vaunted “crown of creation” is just an accidental phenomenon of evolution — no different from armadillos or daffodils. Everything’s up-for-grabs “if Christ has not been raised.”

            So Paul digs deeper into this bedrock-truth of our faith, reminding us of the most poignant pain of all, that our deceased loved ones have perished. Man that one hurts. With our minds we might entertain such a thought, but not with our hearts.  Love won’t allow it. Remove the promise of a future existence and even love will wither like a week-old Easter lily. The deepest affections we’re capable of as human beings are at stake — if there is no resurrection.

            Paul keeps probing, making his case: the meaning of life is at stake if death has the final say. And every substantial thing about us winds up in the cemetery. Stand over an open grave where hearts are crushed and tell them “Sorry folks, this is it. You’ll never see ‘em again!” Throw mud in their face?  That’s the best we can do — if there’s nothing after now. 

            Graveyards are time-bound, good for only about 30 years.  After that, nobody will be left alive who knew us. And it’s just a date on a granite stone. Those who think they have forever are too busy partying to bother with God. So you better get all you can while you’re here. Because when dying-day comes, it’s all over. You know a lotta people believe that. Or live like it. Paul encountered plenty of “This life only” folks in his day too. Maybe Shakespeare got it right. Is life merely “a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing?” I don’t find anything attractive about fatalism. I can see why many believe it’s just “this life only.” But if that’s the case we may as well “Eat, drink, & be merry, for tomorrow we die,” and cast our lot with the Epicurians.

           But today’s world seems to be full of Corinthians! Continually polarized into competing ideologies; each rooted in its own quest for power. Like Eddie Cochran’s song, “There ain’t no cure for the Summertime Blues.” “I called my congressman and he said nope. I’d like to help y’son,but you’re too young to vote!” Do anything for votes. That’s because there seems to always be something or other at stake. 

            What’s at stake if Christ is not raised is the character of God. Or if there even is a God. It’s mind-boggling to try to comprehend how our lonely blue planet just accidentally showed up one day. In precisely the right orbit, with water, oxygen, and sunlight.  Not too cold like Mars, or too hot like Venus.  All that had to happen for us to be here, just a coincidence of blind nature? What’s harder to believe?

            I can’t conceive of a Creator lighting the flame of human personality somewhere along the process of becoming, only to snuff-it-out like a cheap candle! Or fill our hearts with purpose and hope only to turn us back into dust! God has more character than that. God has one Son without sin, but none without suffering. And somehow, someway I believe the good will be victorious over all the suffering, injustice, the bombings, and cruelty; that the abyss of love is far deeper than the abyss of hate. St. Paul rightly insists that the resurrection is “of first importance.”  Foundational to everything that matters. I’ve bet my life on it … most days. I hope I’m betting on it the day I die. 

            The Boston Marathon blast has been non-stop on the news this week. And to a lesser degree those in Texas. Nobody seems to care much about them. But our hearts go out to all those touched by the madness. I know what it’s like to be blown up by dynamite. And survive, though my grandfather did not. I was 4 and still recall the heat, the noise, the shrapnel, shards of glass. In 1947 they lacked the technology of today. So we knew the why but never the who. But I’ll never forget the words of our local physician, Dr. Sharp, sewing me up with over 100 stitches and no morphine. I was trying to be brave. He said, “Hang on, little Danny. It’ll take more than that to stop you!”

            Isn’t St. Paul saying the same thing to the Corinthians? What’s a little thing like death to somebody like Jesus? It’ll take more than that to stop him! The spikes that pierced his hands and feet couldn’t penetrate his truth: “Today you will be with me in paradise!” The spear in his side couldn’t touch his faith. He died with the point of a sword in his side, not the handle in his hand. “Forgive them for they know not what they do!”  The mockery couldn’t affect his love: “Woman behold your son!” When he cried “It is finished,” it couldn’t shake his soul, because “Into Thy hands I commit my spirit!”  Mother Nature blotted out the sun at noon.  And a hardened Centurion was eternally impressed: “I’ve never seen anybody die like that!” 

            On Calvary, as no place else in the universe, we see the heart of God exposed. Death did the worst it could do to its Creator, and while we were at our worst, Christ was at his best. Jesus’ himself warned: “Fear not those that kill the body, and after that have no more that they can do…”  That’s “this life only” talking. There’s plenty more God can do! Talking resurrection puts you in the realm of the eternal.

            A wealthy young man who had everything going for him except for one thing, approached Jesus one day, with an important question: “What should I do to inherit eternal life?”  “Ah nothing much, just sell all you have, give it to the poor, come and join me and be one of my disciples.”  He came to the right person with a good question, and got the right answer. But he couldn’t take that next step. Too much was at stake.

            Even though you can’t take it with you, if this life is all there is, that’s understandable.  But we better be very careful about telling God “no.”  Because he’ll let us.  The young man had it all, except for “one thing he lacked,” and he “went away sad.” And “we are, of all people most miserable,” if we can’t accept Jesus rising from the grave. Like the rich young ruler, it’s your call. But you can say “yes” to God. And see where that gets you.

            I admit that Paul sounds like he’s trying to argue people into the faith.  But I’m not.  I’m just trying to be faithful to my calling.  Because resurrection can’t be supported by human reason anymore than it can be verified by human experience.  It comes at us another way. Every time I’ve presided over a grave side … not a single person has come back, that I know of. I can’t say that about Jesus.  I know, there’s scant evidence.

             All we have are the stories based on illogical events of people we never knew. But because of them, we still have a church, that we can belong to or not, that offers us a choice; whether to believe the stories or not. The way I see it, if we believe the stories and they turn out to be wrong; well we haven’t lost a thing. We’ll just be duped, gullible, dead. But … if we don’t believe the stories and we turn out to be wrong; well I reckon we hit the heavenly jackpot! 

            So what would you rather be wrong about?  Death?  Or life?

Providence Prayers (4/21/13)

            We relish the Season of Easter, Lord, mindful of the discrepancy: a time of hope and joy, coupled with the coarsening of our culture, and some still make room for alienation and violence.

            As we look to the world above us, we’re reminded that the more we know of Thee, the more we realize the need to know Thee more. In a world that is cautious about believing anything it can’t see or measure, help us to see the unseen with the eyes of faith.

            As we look to the world below us, we hear the worn-out complaints about all that’s wrong with organized religion. Maybe we could use a little more of it. May Jesus’ modesty curb our status‑seeking, his humility melt our pride, his purity condemn our lust, his love for people shame our love of things, and his sense of mission challenge our aimlessness.

            As we look to the world within us, we’re prompted to lay our many needs before Thee, so varied that no one prayer can say it all.  Make us grateful that our ways are known unto Thee; that faith outlasts the night; that Thy judgments are redemptive; and Thy mercies sure. Grant us the ability to overcome whatever in us runs counter to Thy will, and the courage to keep spreading the light Jesus came to share.

            As we look to the world around us, give us compassion for those grieving the inexplicable losses this week, and those who live and die as though there was no Easter, who can’t seem to recognize that at the heart of things, love reigns, and heaven cares.

            Help us to be at peace in the confidence of our faith, and live out our lives as best we can, in trust that the love we’ve met in Christ Jesus will someday rule the world. May that “kingdom … come on earth, as it is in heaven.” So shall we continue to have unfailing cause to bless Thy name. Through Christ our Lord.

We have a problem. We have a woman problem. We have a Baptist woman problem. The problem is: Numerous Baptist women have taken being a Baptist seriously. And that has created a problem for a multitude of Baptist men!

I love being Baptist. Baptists stand for principles that are dear to me. Apparently those principles are dear to a long, long list of Baptist women who for centuries have loved being Baptist.

Four hundred and four years ago Baptists emerged in England. In 1611 Thomas Helwys wrote a document declaring that this new group of believers believed in free will, and that each church would elect its own officers, including preaching elders and men and women deacons. In 1612 in another document he insisted on religious liberty for all. Ever since then some Baptist groups have practiced these basic Baptist principles better than others. These principles give men, women and a church a lot of freedom, and with it responsibility. Today I want to focus on what these principles mean to women.

History is crammed full of stories of various religious groups using their power to restrict women. Our news reminds us frequently of how Islamic groups control women in their region. Islamic leaders have spent centuries placing women under strict control. So have Christian leaders. Eastern Orthodox Christians, Roman Catholics, Mormons, and various denominations including many Baptists have insisted that women have restricted, sometimes very restricted, roles in the church. But Baptist histories share the inspiring stories of men and women who valued Baptist principles, and therefore celebrated the gifts of all. Let’s consider the impact on women of three of those core Baptist teachings.

As Baptists, we love the doctrine of the priesthood of the believer or soul freedom. (Soul freedom was a term Roger Williams liked.) For centuries Christian churches insisted that only the priest had the right to read and interpret scripture and only the priest knew God’s will for any person. Baptist and other Protestant groups reject that teaching. We believe that each person has the right to read and interpret the Bible for herself or himself, and the right to find God’s will for her life or his. Not only do we believe we have the right, we believe we have the responsibility to do so. Reading God’s word and discovering God’s will for our lives cannot be outsourced to another person! Over the centuries, some men tried to claim that only they could and should determine God’s will for women, but in every century, some women have not allowed others to strip them of the responsibility that was theirs. When women heard God’s saying, “you will receive the power of the Holy Spirit, so be my witnesses” they understood their responsibility to tell the good news wherever God called them. These women believed that God did not give them a pass on that duty.

When God gave Dorothy Hazard the gift of preaching to Baptists in 17th century Bristol, England, she simply could not and would not let that gift waste away. She loved God too much to waste the gift divinely given. Not long afterward Mrs. Attaway, known far and wide in England for her good preaching was often called the mistress of all she-preachers. In America Hannah Lee and Margaret Clay were early Baptist preachers in Virginia. Margaret Clay was even arrested along with 11 male preachers for preaching without a license. Martha Stearns Marshall was known in Virginia and North Carolina for her preaching and praying. Accounts from that time say she “melted the people into tears.” Preaching was just one of the ways that Baptist women responded to soul freedom—finding what God called them to do. No clergy or religious board made that decision for women who valued Baptist principles. These Baptist women and many others responded to Jesus’ call to “ be my witnesses” and that was soul freedom!
A second teaching very important to Baptists deals with authority. Who or what is our ultimate authority? Some churches have a person who is recognized as the authority. Baptist decided very early that our sole authority, our only authority, would be the scripture. We believe in Bible freedom. Sometimes we call ourselves People of the Book. That is the reason Bible study is so important to Baptists.

For over 400 years women in Baptist churches have taken scripture very seriously. When Jesus said, you will be my witnesses in every part of your world, it never occurred to some women that they were excluded. Of course, they would follow Jesus’ teachings. For instance, Helen Barrett Montgomery was a faithful member of the First Baptist Church of Rochester, New York. In college she developed a love for Greek and later a passion for missions. For ten years she was president of the American Baptist Women’s Missionary Society, traveling to mission fields, writing books on missions, as well as leading that national organization. In 1921 the American Baptist Convention elected her as its president. In the meantime Montgomery’s love of the scripture and the Greek language led her to translate the entire New Testament from Greek into one of the first modern English translation, from which Dan read this morning. Helen Barrett Montgomery was God’s witness in her Jerusalem, her Judea, many of the Samarias around her, and even to the end of the world. Like other faithful women and men, Bible freedom was a responsibility that Montgomery took very seriously.

Baptist women across the ages have taken heard God speak to them through scripture. They have responded to God’s call to be a Bible Study teacher, to work with the poor, to lead children, to preach, to provide food to those in need and the list goes on. When women study God’s word they answer God’s call to serve.

A third Baptist teaching that Baptist women value, is the autonomy of the local church or church freedom. Baptist churches can be most frustrating to put it mildly. I roared out of the parking lot of my church so mad many years ago that I thought I was going to rip the steering wheel out of my car. I could not believe what my church has just done. After a blue ribbon committee had worked hard for over a year to propose a new day care program for our church that would serve our community, a couple of people raised concerns about the effect on the family and my church narrowly defeated the proposal. I could not believe we had done something that to me was so stupid. I was one more angry woman as I jerked my car out of the parking lot. I live about two miles from my church. By the time I pulled into our driveway, I was thanking God that I belonged to a Baptist church. I still thought it was a very bad decision, but I was pleased that we made that bad decision ourselves. No person, no national board made that decision and told us to do it. We did it ourselves. That is the beauty (and sometimes the frustration) of being Baptist—we call our own shots. We decide what we believe God wants our church to do. We don’t let anyone else do that for us. And that is the reason some Baptist churches support preaching woman and other Baptist churches believe women can serve best out of the pulpit.

Did you know that Baptists have a motto? It is just seven words: “Nobody can tell us what to do!” In a nutshell, that is this third Baptist principle. Church freedom is one of Baptists’ most unique features. We believe that every church is accountable directly to God. There is no person or group who interferes with that relationship, Ida May Hays served Southern Baptists for 30 years as a missionary in Brazil. When she told her church that she was retiring and returning to the states, the church said they wanted to ordain her before she left. Since Hays had not asked the church, she was surprised, but accepted their affirmation of her work and call, for she like other women missionaries had preached many times. When Ida Mae Hays returned to the States, a church in Weldon, North Carolina that had never had a woman pastor, called her to be its pastor. Two Baptist churches on two continents recognized God’s gift to Hays and acted on their own to affirm her ministry and gifts. Ida Mae Hays was God’s witness to the ends of the earth and then back to Judea.

A Baptist church not too far from me recently dismissed the young woman who served as their director of children’s ministry because her home church had ordained her. That Baptist church believed that only men could and should be ordained. Each Baptist church has the right and responsibility of making its own decision regarding women in ministry or anything else. That is the Baptist way. Baptists believe in church freedom. A Baptist woman usually chooses a Baptist church that reflects her understanding of women’s role in a church.

Soul freedom means that we have a right, and responsibility to find God’s will for our life, and then try our best to do it.
Bible freedom challenges us to be good students of the Bible and do our best to live what we learn from it. Church freedom means that our church is responsible to God. We have no other authority for what we do or don’t do as a body of Christ.

In other words all three of these basic Baptist principles make it clear that we cannot outsource our responsibilities as individuals or as a church. We believe God wants us to relate directly to him, know his word and be church where we are. Thank God for the many women who have joined men in taking those beliefs seriously.

There are times when even these principles clash. Sometimes an individual’s freedom to interpret scripture is in conflict with the church’s freedom to define its beliefs. In 1634 some Christians in Boston were debating the question raised in 1 Cor. 11:13 about women wearing veils: Is it comely that a woman pray unto God uncovered? John Cotton thought it was no problem for women to be unveiled. In Salem, Roger Williams argued that female members of the Salem congregation should wear veils in church and in any public assemblies. Although Williams continued to agitate for veils as one historian put it, I could not determine how that conflict was resolved. [Gustad, 33] That tension between soul freedom and church freedom still exists in many churches. Some Baptist leaders today claim the authority to prevent women from some roles or practices and their churches often agree. In these cases women do not have soul freedom, Bible freedom or church freedom.

Baptist women are a problem. Sometimes problems are good. When all the tickets are sold to an event and no more seats are available, that is a problem, but a good problem. If a food pantry doesn’t have enough shelf space for all the donations it receives, we say that is a good problem. When women take being Baptist seriously, it is a problem, a good problem. Baptists then have more voices, more workers, more leaders, more ministers, more people sharing the good news and doing God’s work in the world. Our duty as every woman, man, girl and boy, is to take being a Christian seriously and if we are Baptists, take being a Baptist seriously. Our duty as a church is to provide a community of faith that nurtures every girl and boy to hear God’s call for her or his life and use the abilities God gives them.

Each church plays a pivotal role in shaping the lives and faith of its people. Elizabeth Bellinger speaks for many women when she says, I listened to the Story, and I believed. When as a child the community of faith told me Jesus loved me and when they demonstrated that love through their lives, I believed. When I sang ‘We’ve a Story to Tell to the Nations” I believed. When in Baptist Student Union, we sang “Be Thou My Vision” I believed. When in seminary I was shown God’s grace, I believed. In word and music and example, the Story was heard and believed. I am a product of the system in which I was raised. I listened to what it was saying and acted upon what I heard.

What messages are young girls and young boys getting from their experience in the First Baptist Church in America? What kind of witness is this church here in your Jerusalem? What gifts has the Holy Spirit showered on women and men, girls and boys in this church? Are those gifts encouraged or squelched?

We may have a problem when we take our faith and our Baptist principles seriously, and it will be a good problem. What if this church encouraged every person toward true soul freedom, taking seriously a personal relationship to God? What if this church became more diligent about Bible study, enabling its members to experience the joy of Bible freedom? What if this church used its church freedom to dare to be what God wants in this community?

What if this church took being a Baptist more seriously? What difference would it make in your life, in the life of this church, in the life of the community, and in the world? Whether female or male, take being a Baptist seriously! Use your soul freedom, your Bible freedom, and your church freedom– for they are gifts to be treasured.

Hear the sermon.

Today’s scripture covers the week after Easter. For once, the Biblical story parallels our own time frame. I wonder if it also parallels our mood. As we gather today one week after Easter, is there a sense of letdown after all the hoopla and hallelujahs of last Sunday? Did all that majesty and glory have any long lasting effect on us or did we just go back to our old routines? We find the disciples still somewhat baffled a week later. They were profoundly affected by the crucifixion – experiencing fear, grief, despair, guilt, and probably anger and frustration. Then the amazing, sudden appearance of Jesus, transforming their sorrow into joy. It is hard for us, who have known the end of the story all along, to begin to imagine how they felt.

Picture this. It’s spring and you are outside, perhaps pulling weeds or mowing the grass in your yard, maybe taking a walk or lazing in the sun on RISD “beach” behind the church. Then you see Jesus with some of his followers walking down the street. You recognize him because you have seen him speak on a couple of occasions. You were so impressed with both his person and his message you decided to take advantage of any opportunity to see or hear him. And suddenly here he is – on the street right in front of you! Then he comes directly to you and says, “Follow me.” You are stunned. ‘What does he mean? Why would he would single me out?’ you think and then, ‘I wonder where he’s going?’ You realize that you don’t have anything planned for the afternoon and decide you might as well go and see what happens. An afternoon stretches into days and then weeks. Jesus is so compassionate and wise you are drawn to continue with him. This man is changing your life and how you look at the world. Eventually you decide to take a sabbatical from your job or school and become a member of his ministry team. He has a vision of the way life and the world should be – a vision that you want to be a part of and to share with others. Years pass and you grow close to him as well as his other followers. But then there begins to be signs of trouble. Not everyone is so enthralled with his way. Not everyone wants changes in their lives. Jesus himself begins to make strange and dire predictions that he will be executed. Eventually it becomes scary to be in the city and you spend a lot of time in small towns and the countryside. However, one April you venture into the city again and Jesus is accosted by police who claim he is disturbing the peace.

A mob gathers and detractors start a riot. Violence escalates rapidly. You are terrified as you realize your life is in danger. Should you run and hide? Wait and see what happens? Jesus is seized by the angry mob and beaten severely. You slip away, run home and hide out. You learn later that the police took him away and he died in custody from his wounds. One of your members claimed the body and buried it in the North Burial Ground. You are devastated. You find yourself sobbing at the loss of this wonderful friend. How could such a terrible thing happen to such a good man? Soon, though, more practical thoughts begin to enter your mind. What will happen next? What will happen to me? Will the mob come after me too? And, if they don’t, what will I do next? It will be hard to pick up my career or education again after being away for three years. Then an even worse thought comes to you – could I have been wrong about him? I have always been a rational person – not one to go off on a whim and not easily fooled by people. Have I given up everything for a fake? But he was so loving and compassionate and so close to God. Your mind reels as your thoughts fly back and forth. Eventually you conquer your fear enough to meet with the other followers in a private home. While you are meeting one of the women who was part of your group comes running in all excited saying she has seen Jesus – that he is alive! No one really believes her – wishful thinking of a grief-stricken woman. But then Jesus himself is suddenly there. Is it him? How can that be? Is he angry with me because I ran away? “Peace be with you,” he says. He shows his wounds and everyone is convinced. Again he says, “Peace be with you.” And then, saying: “As the Father has sent me so send I you,” he breathes the Holy Spirit on you and is gone. You feel you have been taken up into a whirlwind – joy, fear, confusion. For the last three days you have experienced the whole spectrum of emotions. Now you don’t know quite what to feel or think. You look at the others and know that like you they are wondering, “What next??”

I suspect the disciples were going through this same spectrum of emotions. Small wonder that a week later they were again huddled together in the house. Wondering not only what would happen next but also what should they do next. How does one respond to such unprecedented events? In the meantime they have met up with Thomas who wasn’t with them when Jesus appeared and doesn’t believe their story. It’s interesting to me that he wanted to stay associated with these crazy, delusional people. But, they seem to understand his position. After all they didn’t believe either until they saw Jesus’ wounds. You’ll notice in the scripture it says Jesus showed them his hands and side and then they believed. So they made Thomas feel welcome and really where else could he go? So they were all together a week later and again Jesus appeared to them. After seeing Jesus’ wounds Thomas not only believes it is him, returned from the grave; but he calls him my Lord and my God.

We are told to believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and we will be saved. But we are not told how to believe. All of the disciples were told by the women who went to the grave that Jesus had risen; but Luke tells us that the disciples deemed their words “idle talk” and didn’t believe them. Even after they saw him they believed with difficulty. According to Luke they were terrified and thought he was a ghost. Only when they saw his hands and side did they believe. So then how are we to believe today? Many of us have heard these stories all our lives. Often what we hear as children we just accept. But it seems to me that for that childlike belief to mature into faith, we too need personal encounters with the risen Christ. I remember years ago a member of this church responding to the question “Why do you believe in the resurrection?” by saying I believe because of my life experiences. To truly believe, I think we either have to have experienced resurrection ourselves (on a metaphorical level) or to have had experiences in which we recognized the hand of God. The times when in the middle of problem solving or a creative endeavor, you come up with an idea that you would never in a million years have thought of on your own. Or when in the midst of deep distress, you are suddenly overcome by a sense of peace and knowledge that all will be ok. Or when you see a beautiful sunset or hear a beautiful piece of music or read a beautiful poem that touches you and you suddenly see the world in a different way and feel connected to everything. Times when you are lifted out of your usual rut and are aware of some indescribable “Other.” Sometimes the recognition comes in retrospect. We think, ‘how did I ever get through that difficult time on my own’ and realize that perhaps we didn’t do it on our own, maybe we had help. Sometimes we see it in another’s life when we see a friend or family member transformed by the events in their lives. Each time these experiences occur, our faith is deepened and we become more able to recognize the hand of God in our lives. Jesus just popped up at unexpected times after his resurrection, catching the disciples unaware until they recognized him. It is the same for us – it is up to us to be on the lookout.

We all experience times of doubt. So we can identify with and even be comforted by the disciples doubt. I think Thomas is a model for how to deal with that doubt. He could have shaken his head saying it can’t be true and thrown in the towel. But he hung in there. He didn’t hide or deny his doubts. He faced them. And, he continued to hang out with the believers until he too experienced Jesus as the risen Christ. The disciples are also a model – in accepting the presence of an unbeliever and giving him the time he needed until he came to believe. I tend to think that people who claim never to have had any doubts probably haven’t thought about their faith very much. It is in facing our doubts and working through them that we grow in our faith. And we are blessed if we have a congregation of nonjudgmental people who allow and help us to grow so that we too may proclaim in all honesty Jesus as Lord.

Jesus it seems is amazingly patient with us – as he was with the disciples. He didn’t chastise them for not believing the women. He didn’t even mention the fact that they all betrayed him by running away. In fact, In Mark’s gospel the young man in dazzling white who greets the women at the empty tomb and tells them Jesus has risen, tells them to tell Peter and the other disciples that Jesus has gone ahead and will meet them in Galilee. It has been suggested that Peter was invited specifically by name since he had denied Jesus three times and might be afraid to show up because of his enormous guilt. There’s no way to know if that is true or not – but what a lovely thought. Jesus’ greeting, “Peace be with you,” suggests forgiveness. How can we be at peace when we are burdened with guilt? He refers to them as brothers – he clearly holds no grudges. He simply tells them to believe. There is no discussion of theology, no explanations. He had after all told them beforehand what would happen. And when they do accept him, the very next thing he tells them is that he is now sending them out just as he had been sent. He is giving these people who had betrayed and abandoned and doubted him the responsibility to carry on his mission! We don’t have to be perfect. Jesus accepts us and can use us for good just as we are right now, if we are willing to serve. Perhaps Jesus knew that it would take time for the disciples to process all that had happened and gave them a week off to sort through it all and try to make some sense of it. However, he didn’t coddle them at all. “Believe,” he said. He gave them the Holy Spirit and told them to get to work. No dithering about how it all happened. No heavy discussions about meaning. No quibbling about who was in charge. No explanations and not even reassurances that they would be successful. Just go out there and transform the world.

In chapter 14 John quotes Jesus as saying “Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves.” If you can’t believe what is said about me, then believe because of what I do. Also, remember when John the Baptist’s followers asked Jesus if he was the one they were waiting for, he replied,” go tell John what you hear and see – the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up and the poor have good news preached to them” (Mt 11:4-5). Jesus doesn’t ask us to believe rhetoric but what we see. Likewise he doesn’t ask for philosophies but action. It is in serving and seeing God working through us that we come to believe. Time wasted in looking for proof can get in the way of experiencing what God is doing in the present. So, though we may feel a letdown after the high excitement of Easter, God challenges us to get out in the world and live our ordinary lives in such a way that others can see in us the peace and joy that comes from a relationship with God. So that through us they too may come to believe in God’s love for them.

Mark’s Easter story lies on the border between Saturday and Sunday. That’s because the central focus in his gospel is the cross. So the oldest account ends in silence, rather than hallelujah; no leap of joy, only running away in fear. For Mark Easter did not eradicate Good Friday, but vindicated it. What the women find early on the first day of the week is the stone was rolled away, the tomb empty, and a young man dressed in a white robe, who announces that Jesus is risen. Instead of telling Peter and the disciples, they run away, dazed and afraid, “Saying nothing to no one.” The reader is drawn into the open-endedness, left to decide whether Mark’s Gospel ends or begins the story. Thus, fear and silence don’t seem inappropriate for Easter morning. In time, they will eventually find their tongues and they will bear witness.

The Preacher Says:

Our text this morning is the earliest account we have of Easter, from three eyewitnesses. And it begins with everything pretty normal. When somebody dies, it’s appropriate to visit the cemetery where they’re laid to rest. Out of respect, Salome and the Marys showed up at the garden tomb with spices to anoint Jesus’ body. So good, so far.

But then all hell breaks loose! Or heaven as it were. The grave’s been opened, the stone rolled away. And a dazzling young man, isn’t much help. He just said Jesus was already gone, when he dropped a bombshell that we haven’t caught up with yet: “Jesus has risen as he said. Go tell the disciples and Peter that he goes ahead of them to the Galilee.” The first “dead man walking” was just too much. Instead of going to deliver the good news, they went the other way in shock and awe. And “they didn’t say nothing to nobody.” (Greek has no grammatical problem with double negatives.) It’s an unusual way to conclude a Gospel! You’d expect ecstasy, but they were stuck dumb. It leaves us wanting, doesn’t it? But I find it striking that those closest to God have the least to say about him.

            I think the original ending of Mark got lost. Yet maybe his version of Easter says something that the more elaborate, church‑refined, assured words of Matthew, Luke and John don’t say. Nobody’s gonna write a majestic hymn based on Mark. And if you’re looking for resurrection pounded into you in technicolor, with earnest conviction, argued scientifically or evoked poetically, with talk of crocuses, bunnies, and butterflies in the springtime…forget it. Mark’s story of the empty tomb is a train without a caboose! Most scholars believe, and I concur, that our earliest gospel concludes with an open‑ended‑ending.

Have you ever been to a movie where the people didn’t didn’t leave at the end?  After it’s over, for those in the theater it isn’t over enough. It goes with you after you leave. Steven Spielberg’s “Saving Private Ryan” did that. It’s about extreme courage and sacrifice on the battle field that left you speechless: “Tell me I’m a good man!” Those around me just sat in silent respect as the credits rolled.

Come to think about it, maybe those well‑meaning 2^nd century scribes who added several verses to Chapter 16 of Mark, were onto something. What they tried to do is what we all have to do with the resurrection … finish it ourselves. Maybe he’s not ending the story, but beginning another. Mark cottons to brevity. He omitted Christmas and muted Easter! That’s why few preachers will be using Mark today. He typically left us some jagged edges, exposing his pastoral wisdom. By refusing to tie the loose ends of the gospel into a tidy bow of fleeting consolations, what he lacks in romance, he makes up for with realism. Unlike the other evangelists, Mark records no resurrection appearances. No surprises on the Emmaus road; no slipping through the walls of the upper room; no fish breakfast on the beach.

That the women simply couldn’t find the words to say, I find  completely understandable. Stumbling over somebody freshly raised from the dead doesn’t come along every day! Deferential reverence is appropriate for Easter. We have to give them some time to doubt this. The disciples sure questioned it. Matthew says “They worshiped him, but some doubted.” Luke is far-out, “they disbelieved for joy!” John said Peter’s gone fishing and Thomas “wouldn’t believe it till he touched the scars.” The air is thick with ambivalence. Mark is certainly in keeping with the others to allow these women some time for the viability of resurrection to soak in on them. Or it could be that this news was just too true to be good. They could get whacked for telling it! Imagine the risk they’d be taking. “Look, this Jesus whom you wasted on Friday, he’s alive again!” Maybe that’s why they clammed up. Fear tangles our tongues.

I’ll never forget that evening worship service when the preacher called on my Daddy to pray. And he wouldn’t do it. You could feel the tension. I elbowed him, “Just say ‘dismissed’ and let’s get outa here!” And the preacher called on him again! And he still wouldn’t pray. Or maybe he’s praying that the damn preacher would quit calling on him! You just don’t do that. Those were the days when I thought my Daddy could do anything. And he could. Except pray in public. Finally the preacher mercifully mumbled something and we vacated the premises. My Daddy would give the shirt off his back to help somebody! “Just don’t ask me to pray in public.” And I’m thinking “We pray to God not the public!” But if I ever get to be a preacher, I’d never call on anyone to pray without asking them first. That has served me well.

“Please don’t ask me to say anything!” Does that not show how difficult it is to say something important in front of your peers? That’s our first Easter witnesses. They see something; they hear something, but they can’t say anything. Have you noticed that the birth, crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus were all enshrouded in darkness? Nobody saw him rise from the grave. This is something strictly between Jesus and God. Maybe God thinks these majestic moments are too sacred to be gazed upon. Intimacy requires a proper distance. Knowing us, somebody would start a “reality show,” to make money off of it! When will we ever get it? Some things are true if whispered, but cheapened when shouted.

Or they might’ve kept their tongues because of their apprehension about how they’d be heard. I mean “rising from the dead!” What if I stood up on Thayer St. tomorrow: “May I have your attention please? I just wanted to tell ya’ll that Jesus Christ is risen from the dead!” Say ya’ll and see what happens. Who’s this weirdo? Somebody hep ‘im. Bless his heart. Yeah, I can understand their silence.

We come to church on Easter to hear the announcement: Jesus Christ is risen from the dead! Because Easter belongs to the church. It’s something those who believe say. It’s not for the public. Because the Risen One never made an appearance before the general public. Always and only to those who believed, in private. Now if I’d been running the Easter show I’d line up the Pope with some of that fancy white smoke! Man the Catholics know how to do it! With those hip red gowns and gold caps! Get some stately ecumenical preachers behind him for a foto op. Parade Jesus around; show him off at the Oscars, now that’s a surprise appearance! Trot him back before Pilate. And for all those political and religious dudes: Boo! That’ll teach ‘em! But God did it his way. Our way just shows how small we are.

It’s unrealistic to think any commonwealth could sustain the real meaning of Easter. That belongs to the church, not the state. “Christ is risen!” is a distinctly Christian message, that’s amazingly being degraded these days.  If we got invited to the White House Egg Roll, with rabbits and ducks; or it’s just another drunken spring break at the beach, from the extreme rigors of school. It’s not the government’s fault or the society’s fault. Because Easter belongs to the church! And it is for the church to proclaim.

We can’t continue to “say nothing to nobody.” But we can say: God gives life to the dead! He’s been doing it since creation morning. The resurrection is another re-creation out of the chaos. Our God knows his way out of a grave! When Abraham and Sarah were way beyond the years of child-bearing, little Isaac showed up! “Isaac” means “laughter.” They giggled real good, because they thought they were too old to have a son. But God can wake up brittle wombs!

Jesus was crucified, dead, and buried. Ask Salome and the Marys, they’ll tell us he’s dead. The Centurion knows: “Never have I seen a man die like that.” Ask his Mamma: He’s dead. The Beloved Disciple, standing beside her. Yep, she’s right. There’s no denying it. One thing God’s got plenty of that we don’t, is life. And time. Unlike us, God needs no clock. And he never runs out of life. So Jesus said to Martha: “I am the resurrection and the life, do you believe that?” She said she did. Do we?

There’s a moving story about a witness at the Nuremburg trials who shrewdly escaped the death camp in World War II, by hiding out for some time in an open grave in a Jewish cemetery in Poland. During that time, he saw a young woman give birth to a child in one of the graves.  She was assisted by an old grave digger. When the baby first cried, he prayed, “Dear God, have you finally sent us the Messiah? Who else but a Messiah could be born in a grave?” Or raised from one! Does stuff like this ruin Easter? Or is this what Easter’s really about?  Nevertheless — the Lord God Almighty is the “Author and Finisher” of our faith. The gospel he began, he will complete. Because he gives life to the dead –we can turn unfinished endings into new beginnings.

Considering everything, Mark’s unusual ending to his Gospel, however you prefer to interpret it, I think it fits rather nicely into life as we know it. “When the Sabbath was over, the Marys and Salome, brought spices to the sepulcher to anoint him. But they fled from the tomb, trembling in astonishment … and they said nothing to no one, for they were afraid.”  They didn’t see Jesus, only an empty tomb. So he’s out and about around here someplace. But of his story, and ours, there is no end.

Providence Prayers. Easter Sunday, March 31, 2013

As we enter once again into the holiest of holies of our faith, Living God, we’re reminded that Easter’s not about believing the impossible, but trusting the invisible. We are keenly aware of our inadequate efforts to describe the indescribable. Let no hesitation in our attempts to believe, no heaviness of circumstance, no familiarity with Easters past, deprive our spirits of this day’s happiness.

We pray for those whose lot in life makes doubt easier than faith; for the recently bereaved, disappointed by overwhelming loss; for those who used to believe in God, but still miss him; for all who’d be happier if they owned less and trusted more.  May this hour of worship “roll away the stones” and empty the emptiness in our souls. Grant us the good sense to surrender to Thee everything that’s dead in us … our stillborn dreams, our unhealed wounds, our disturbing anxieties.

We pray for those who live with a sense of running out of what they need; and the raw anger it creates. Those running out of time; out of health; out of work, out of safety, out of hope. Likewise, those running out of excuses, and alibis, forced to assume the blame for their decisions. Those running out of faith, finding it easier to criticize and attack the faithful.

We pray for our church, reading from a Book that reads us. Make us the kind of Baptists with an attractive faith, not repulsive: disciplined and informed; generous and compassionate; venturesome and joyful.  Let the hope of resurrection-light that streams forth from a borrowed tomb in Joseph’s garden, shine on our world, illumine our neighbors and invigorate us, through Christ our Lord.

            The Garden of Gethsemane frames our text for the beginning of Holy Week. There Jesus prayed selflessly while one of his disciples had already sold him out to his opponents and three other disciples slept. Jesus experienced deep anguish and loneliness at their failed loyalty. “My soul is sorrowful.” He only wanted them to “watch and pray,” to stay close, but not too close. They left him alone to pray. This was his prayer: “Nevertheless, not as I will, but thy will be done.” If we were granted only one prayer to pray, could we do any better than that?  

The Preacher Says:

            A few days after Palm Sunday, the Gospel of Luke says Jesus paid a visit to the Garden of Gethsemane, and prayed what has to be the greatest prayer ever prayed, characterized by one strategic expression “nevertheless.” The magnitude of that word we’ve yet to realize. In English, it’s a combination of three words. But in the Greek, it’s a tiny two-letter conjunction: “ti.” A minuscule word, with massive significance — because everything hinges upon it.

            What if Jesus had insisted on his will vs. God’s? I mean he’s tight with God. Stands to reason that God might cut him a little slack. Like Paul, who didn’t beat-around-the-bush with his “thorn.” Without equivocation he wanted it removed. He prayed three times for God to heal him. But “God’s grace would have to do.” Jesus left a small opening for God’s will to prevail. “Let this pass from me … nevertheless.” Jesus knew his time was short. There’s so much trauma beneath the surface in this peaceful garden. Jesus is sweating prayers while the disciples are snoring away.

            The first part of his prayer applies to us, when we find ourselves up against something bigger than we are. Who hasn’t prayed “Let this pass from me” or for our loved ones? In the second part of the prayer is the central test of our lives: whether we have the guts to take the next step and get to: “Nevertheless.” That utterance is one of the most momentous in our vocabulary because it brings Gethsemane’s wine press home to each of us. It’s a “road less traveled,” because  multitudes never take it.

            Admittedly there’s sacred mystery in this garden pray-off, as two separate wills compete. And Jesus lost. “If possible, don’t make me have to go through that.” That’s the easy part. Then comes the hard part. It’s all for naught unless we finish with magnanimity and humility. Though our petition be denied, though our calling is costly, though we remain handicapped, though adversity ambushes us, and still not give-in. That takes great courage.

            The Bible has seen this before. The Book of Daniel describes three brave young men in Babylonian exile: Shadrack, Meshack, and Abednego. They stood up to King Nebuchadnezzar, and faced dire consequences, if they refused to bow down before a golden idol. “We have no need to answer you in this matter O King. If we are tossed into the fire, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the fiery furnace. But if not…” What faith it takes to go from there!  (Nevertheless) “we will not worship the image you’ve set up.” Unforgettable in the spellbinding memory of humankind are the courageous souls who’ve passed the nevertheless test.

            Judaism still celebrates Queen Esther’s bravery on the Feast of Purim. This young Israeli beauty had everything to live for, no need to risk her life. Still she pled with the King to spare her people in captivity when they faced annihilation: “Perhaps she’s been sent for a time like this.” That scene has been replicated many times through the ages. “If I perish, I perish,” she said.

            It’s one thing to have faith in God when life goes our way. It’s Holy Week and the crowds are shouting on board with the program; palm branches are strewn in our path. Faith comes easy. But four days hence, we’re in Gethsemane, with a cup to drink; under the shadow of a cross, the heart pounds: “Let this pass from me.” Then the real test – whether we’ll have what it takes to meet whatever confronts us? Unless we’re very lucky, we all have some nasty stuff on our plates.

            There are two kinds of faith in God. One says IF, the other says THOUGH. IF all goes well, the masses are applauding in approval, people parading. I hesitate to call that faith, because it’s more like magic. Then there’s “THOUGH” faith. Though evil wins; though I can’t get what I want. “Gethsemane’s dark and a cross looms, nevertheless, I still won’t quit on God.” That’s when faith cost something.

            The scriptures are full of this “If-then” dilemma. The most blatant example is Jacob: “IF God be with me, and protect me, and give me bread to eat, and clothes to wear; give me a JC Penney credit card! THEN the Lord shall be my God!” If God meets my conditions, then I’ll believe in him. Fair weather faith will collapse in Gethsemane.

            Then there’s the real thing. Like Job, “Though he slay me, yet will I trust him.” Or David, “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” When life calls for Gethsemane’s guts, and not Palm Sunday’s hosannas — that’s the nevertheless test. I run into people often who are sweating it out in their own Gethsemanes. Where darkness abounds. Where there’s no other option available. The cup must be drunk to the dregs. Friends seem oblivious to the agony. Alone in the shadows. That’s when a strange light dispels the darkness. That’s when our fiber is most tested. As it takes night time to see the stars, even so Gethsemane reveals our mettle.

            Palm Sunday represents popularity and success. Hosannas fill the air, kids roll out the green carpet. Gethsemane represents suffering and failure. Hopes are dashed, prayers denied, sweat becomes blood, a good man relinquishes control. Yet it’s out of the world’s Gethsemane’s that have come those we find it impossible to forget.

            One of the most neglected mysteries of human life is the amazing success of failure. Christ on the cross is a cruel catastrophe. Let’s just be honest  about it. Every Spring when Holy Week comes around, and we confront his death, we’re celebrating a failure — in a culture that will do whatever it takes to win. A life was lost, not saved. His family thought he was crazy; his friends betrayed him; the church rejected him, the state wasted him; God abandoned him. Not one single victory! But it isn’t over yet! Given the extent of his colossal collapse, how do we explain the inexplicable — that 2000 years later, with absolute reverence, we still gather to celebrate so great a failure? This is the power of goodness to overcome evil. In a situation so ominous it’s hard to imagine. Yet a man rises above it to such heights and takes hold of millions of followers with him over time.

            When compared to the so-called successes of the mighty civilizations that have come and gone, we’re still remembering him. All because when all seemed lost, he said “Thy will be done.” Show me somebody who can do that and I’ll show you somebody who belonged to something that made him more than himself. Jesus was himself + that which he gave himself to. Something he stood for and was willing to die for. It’s not unusual to see people belonging to something. Everybody belongs to something. Mostly though it’s something that diminishes them; drugs, the party scenes, short-cuts, crime, debauchery – things that pulls us down and makes us less than God intends us to be. What Jesus stood for made him more not less.

            Only when we have that element in our own lives can we behave like the Master in Gethsemane. The difference between a good man and a bad man is in the choice of our causes. Pick your causes well. Those that makes you more not less; that makes other more not less.  We’re cursed today with all these “special interests,” Dudes that cause special problems. But mostly the “interest” is in themselves. There’s a lot of money in it. Lobbyists are paid big bucks to advance somebody’s cause.  It seems like every day now, somebody does something radical to make a name for himself. Maybe you noticed that cop who left behind his “manifesto?” Just an attempt to justify aberrant behavior.

            Another guy who knew he wasn’t long for this world left this hopeless word behind before committing suicide: “A man has to be made of steel to endure this world today.” Like a lot of parting shots, it’s revealing. But I beg to differ with the sentiment. No, we need not be made of steel. But we should be made of loyalty, and dedication to something worthwhile; with commitment to great aims that go beyond our private self-interests. And what do I get out of this? No need to be “made of steel,” but we ought to be made of allegiance to the will of God for this world, that our children are going to have to live in; devotion so real that the Gethsemane prayer will rise as our own natural expression: “Nevertheless, not my will but Thine be done.” Now that’s what I call a prayer! I guarantee you it’ll be a cold day in hell when somebody leaves THAT for a manifesto!

            A new statue was recently added to the Capitol rotunda in Washing, DC. There wasn’t a lot made of it. Just a plain woman is portrayed seated, wearing a hat, clutching her purse. The Speaker said this when her likeness was dedicated:  “Here in this hall, she casts an unlikely silhouette ‑‑ unassuming in a lineup of proud stares, challenging us to look up and draw strength from her stillness.” Rosa Parks’ fame came from sitting! All she did was sit … on a bus in Montgomery, Alabama. But she sat — so Martin Luther King could walk. And he kept on walking to the mountain-top — up to Memphis, TN. There he was assassinated outside his motel room, where he was staying in order to stand up for garbage workers!

            Yeah, like Moses, here were two of God’s choicest children who were denied the privilege of entering the promised land. We might well wonder if God can do better than that. Nevertheless.  Dr. King said “Not my will but thine be done,” and gave his life, to make it possible for others to get there.  That’s another Gethsemane we’ll never forget! I remember the last time he preached. He said, “I’d like to go in with you” — “if it be possible…” (That little opening, just in case). “If it be possible…” This time it wasn’t … “nevertheless.” And the hinges of history started to swing.

 Providence Prayers: (3/24/13)

            Merciful Father, as we approach once again the hallowed ground of Gethsemane and Golgotha, we gather on this Day of Palms because we believe in the Living God, whose ways are not bound within the narrow limitations of our stunted ability to know. And our wonder that life so divinely ordered can never be ironed flat, or reduced to the rigid limitations of the ordinary.

            Holy Week reminds us of the contrasts between Sunday and Friday; that life is full of highs and lows, exciting events that cannot be tamed.  Father forgive us, for wasting our passions only on ourselves. Loose the “hosannas” bottled up inside of us and awaken the child within us as we scatter our well pressed garments in the pathway of the King on a donkey. May this hour offer us another chance to get it right.      

            Ours has become a world where only the terrorists seem to believe in a cause worth dying for. Inspires us in this worship to stand for something worth living for; to make God smile, even if it makes others mad.  So we pray for those whose actions make them targets of our criticism rather than the subject of our prayers.  Illumine the way for the bewildered. Grant peace to the distressed. Companion the disappointed. And befriend the bereaved.  May our comings and goings from this old Meeting House keep expanding our horizons and help us to mold a faith that lifts people, with joy that builds community, and a religion that places its faith where it ought to be, in Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

Today’s scripture passage is a continuation of last Sunday’s  story from the Gospel of Matthew where Jesus and Peter go at it. This is the initial prediction of the crucifixion and cross-bearing in today’s Lenten lesson tied up in a little but potent word “must.” Matthew’s signal that what’s coming down is of necessity for Jesus, but something which his followers were not prepared to hear. In both private and public instruction to the disciples and the multitudes Jesus declares that suffering and sacrifice are inherent to the gospel. Utilizing strong language, with rebukes and counter-rebukes, the prediction of the passion in Matthew is portrayed by argument and name-calling between Peter and Jesus. But the hand-writing is on the wall.

Hear the sermon

The Preacher Says:

After 2 millennia, the death of Jesus still lies at the center of Christian reflection. Far more than just “a meditation during Lent,” for St. Paul, it was all-consuming. “Christ crucified! To the Greeks, foolishness; to the Jews, a stumbling-block.” What is it to us?Rome made the cross of Christ the primary symbol of Western Christianity. In Constantinople in the east, it’s the empty tomb.

For the gospel writers, it placed a great demand on their faith. It fell to them to make sense out of something that made no sense, namely, trying to blend the crucifixion of Christ with the grace of God. Only Matthew and Luke thought Christmas was important enough to mention. But all 4 gospels devote 1/3 of their narratives to Good Friday. In today’s text, Matthew alludes to it 11 chapters before it happened. Jesus is at the foot of Mt. Hermon up north, in the Galilee, where he pointed his friends to Mt. Calvary in the south, in Jerusalem.

The nub of it was when Jesus said he “must go up to Jerusalem where he will be killed, and on the 3^rd day, be raised from the dead.” There’s no whining; no victimization, or how unfair it is. No ifs, ands, buts. Just the open embrace of what lies ahead. You could call it courageous or crazy. Some think Jesus had a death wish or a martyr complex. I can see how somebody would think that. So what happened to free will? What’s the source of Jesus’ excruciating sense of necessity? How can anything so traumatic be part of the will of God?

There’s gotta be some other way. That was Peter’s position at Caesarea-Philippi. And it only got him in trouble. We’re not used to Jesus reverting to name-calling, but here he did. “Get behind me Satan!” Strong stuff. Jesus wasn’t playing around. In our day, we know the harshness subsided on the 3^rd day, because they softened the crucifixion somewhat. That’s when it was first interpreted as the gracious hand of God, rather than the violent terror of man.

They looked again at the Old Testament stories in light of the cross with a hermeneutic that is foreign to us today. It was a method of interpreting current events, as if they were intended to be that way all along. The flow of inevitability. There are lots of biblical examples. Looking back on the betrayal of the Lord by Judas Iscariot, the church said, “He was a devil from the beginning.” But after the conversion of Paul, the church took it the other direction, saying he was “set apart from his mother’s womb.” The result reveals the purpose. So the purpose of Jesus was to be crucified. No way around it. He must…be crucified. The Apocalypse put it this way, “The Lamb slain from the foundation of the world.” But it was for our redemption from the beginning. 

When Jacob’s favorite son Joseph was finally reconciled with his brothers, who previously sold him into slavery,  Joseph said, “You intended it for evil but God intended it for good.” God’s been in the business of turning evil into good for a long time. Jesus “having to go to Jerusalem” poses a threat to our most prized possession  – religious liberty; the freedom to choose our own destiny. Isn’t our real problem with “Matthew’s have-to” that we grant no quarter in our lives for that confining word … must?

Telling somebody they must do something comes across as pushy. Pushing folks can damage our fragile psyches. With benefits nowadays, some folks don’t have-to go to work. Nothing says you must go to college. And certainly nobody must go to church.  Are people thus compelled with shoulds and oughts impulsive or in need of therapy?  Or could our resistance to must and have-to feed into our modern rejection of responsibility and accountability? As long as we can blame somebody else for our faults, must is way too demanding. Who likes feeling like they must get out of bed and face freeway traffic, or study for exams, or shovel snow? Must takes away our Apps button! Oh we like our options. Alternatives. Wiggle room. How inconvenient to be put-upon, boxed-in with obligations or expectations. Give us a world with no assignments. No offering plates. No checks or balances.

Consider anybody who accomplished something noteworthy. There’ll be a must on the inside of them somewhere. You won’t get to the Final Four without a strong sense of must. It takes hard work, and admitting and learning from your mistakes, discipline. Abraham Lincoln, Thomas Edison, Winston Churchill are a few who had failed in the early tasks undertaken by them.  Michael Jordan was without peer in basketball. So he decided to try his hand at baseball. A reporter asked: “But what if you fail?” He said, “I’m not afraid to fail.” That’s why he was great.  Paul McCartney was turned down for the Liverpool Cathedral boys choir back in the ‘50′s because the choir master said “He couldn’t sing!” Even Walt Disney was fired from his newspaper job, because his boss said “he lacked imagination and creative ideas.” He filed bankruptcy more than once before envisioning a place called “Disneyland.” These are exemplary because in spite of their failures, they kept on trying every time they missed the mark. Failure is temporary. Quitting is permanent.

There’s a reason I call my wife “Wonder Woman.” She has a servant’s heart. She volunteers with FEMA and the Blood Bank. Water Fire escort. One thing she’s not is lazy. But everywhere we’ve lived and she gets a job, I know why they wanta keep her. She has a track record like that all across this country.   She works Friday and Saturday on midnight shift as dorm-mother over at the Avalon. 12-8 am. Then goes home for some shut-eye? Noooo. She washes her face and comes over here to church first! And I gotta be on-my-toes just to keep her awake during the preaching! And all of those full-night-sleepers out there, who never bother to darken the doors of a church; they “have it all, but still lack one thing.” There’s no must.

Or the Apostle Paul. Converted as an adult to a new religion. Sick much of his life, spent more time in jail than behind a pulpit. Shipwrecked, stoned, beaten, dis-respected by his church. His heart set on taking the gospel to Spain and ended up in house arrest in Rome. Ask him “Hey Paul. Isn’t missionary work a piece of cake? “If I preach the gospel, I have nothing to boast about. For an obligation has been entrusted to me, necessity is laid upon me” (I Cor. 9:16). Holy Guacamole! May God give us more like that.

Or Jesus. “We must needs go through Samaria.” Why is that laudable? Cause everybody else went out of their way to detour around Samaria! But Jesus goes out of his way to bless those nobody else would. Why tarnish your reputation by talking to a Samaritan woman? And He who “made of himself no reputation,” just said “I must.”

Great people do what they have-to, because they’re inwardly possessed of something noble. And that is the key to any worthwhile accomplishment. We never know what we can do till we have-to. That’s when we find what we’re made of.  Unwarranted dependency deprives us of dignity. There’s no fulfillment in entitlement. Or having something done for you by somebody else. There’s no must, in parking on somebody else’s nickel. Jesus said “The road is broad that leads to destruction.” “Few there be that find it.” Could he be talking about “his frail children of light” being more interested in alternatives than achievements?

So how do we get that must? From whence cometh our have-to’s? It has to come from the inside. The drive of necessity isn’t something we can fabricate. You can’t buy it at Walmart. You either have it or you don’t. Other than the military, where else can we go to develop character today? Church is one place that should help us get it. If our religion doesn’t do anything for our character, it’s not worth having. There are things you can’t make somebody do. You can’t make a student learn. How do we make people love? I wish we could manufacture that! Or make somebody come to worship? Those are things you have to want. Nobody can do it for us if we don’t want it.

I have great respect for the Coast Guard because they’re dedicated to saving people’s lives in danger. Up in Alaska fierce storms hit and ships break apart. There’s a small window of time for rescue. In a recent storm the captain ordered the lifeboat to be launched. But with the tide running out to sea and the wind whipping up, one of the crew protested, “We can go out, but in this gale we won’t come back.” “Launch it anyhow,” said the Captain. “We have-to go out. We don’t have-to come back.” Ah the honor of having-to do something! Nothing could stop them. “Neither height, nor depth, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor anything else in all creation…”

Every-day folks might think people like that are obsessed. But they’ve come to see that their calling is more important than how they happen to feel about it on any given day. The people who are really burdened out there are those who get up in the morning, and go to bed in the evening, struggling with  great issues like: what shall we eat? What shall we drink? What shall we watch? Wherewithal shall we be clothed? Then get up the next morning, and go back to bed … night after night, week after week, year after year. Then they grow old and die … without ever having a burden!

So. If you’re one of the few blessed with having an inner must to guide you; a have-to that puts fire in your belly; if you’ve been given a burden from God, thank God for it! That happens to be the way the story of our redemption begins: “From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go up to Jerusalem and suffer and be killed and be raised on the 3^rd day.”

ProvidencePrayers: (3/17/13)

We bow before Thee in prayer, our Father, the source of all things good. May this hour of worship remind those of us who are inclined to remember what we lack, not to forget what we have. We bless Thee for the change of the seasons; the gradual warming of springtime; green grass, budding flowers and all the colors that edge us into summer. We thank Thee for the sharing of ideas, the strength of having convictions, our ability to hope and the power of divine truth on the human spirit. Center our far-ranging lives in Thy grace, that in whatever time or circumstance, we might celebrate Thy presence. Grant us the stamina to stay with it when it becomes our lot to have to endure hard times. For behind the fronts we struggle to maintain, there lurks a self that is doubtful of its ends, unsure of its worth, unhappy with its prospects, and annoyed with its limitations.

Bless us individually and corporately according to our several needs. Vitalize our worship. Energize our hearts. Inspire our souls. For the sick, we ask Thy healing touch. For the lonely, Thy companionship. For the undecided, Thy wisdom. For the bereaved, Thy encouragement. Make real to us in this hour, the life that Jesus came to bring, lest the cares of self or society rob us of the joy of being human, knowing that of such the story of our lives is made. Like our Lord, keep us true to our best insights all the way to the end and beyond. Through Christ our Lord.

            Today’s scripture passage is crucial in determining how the disciples viewed Jesus and their understanding of what he was doing. This is the first time the word “church” occurs in the gospels. Here Jesus makes a promise of a church that will be his church and cannot be overcome even by death itself. It is also here that Jesus conferred the continuity between himself and the church on not just Simon Peter, but all the apostles. Down through the ages, these stalwarts have been the responsible persons who preserved and faithfully passed on to the church what Jesus said and did.

 The Preacher Says:

            It’s not like Jesus to care about what others think of him. But Matthew tells of a time when he did just that. Jesus was a man of towering inner strength; confident, self-directed, his own man; truthful rather than tactful when it was impossible to be both. He thumbed his nose at his captors: “No one takes my life. I lay it down on my own.”  And yet, even Jesus cared what others thought of him. I guess it’s just human nature. According to Matthew, Jesus felt the need to pull away for some intake. So they retreated up to Caesarea-Philippi to get a report from his colleagues; to take stock of their work together so far.

            I don’t think it’s from a perspective of a poor self-image, or a need for approval or anything psychological. But it is theological. So he gave a pop-test to the disciples about what they’re hearing about how he’s perceived on the streets? “Who do the people say that I am?” They say, “John the Baptist, or one of the prophets: Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Elijah.” That’s a pretty tall line-up! But that’s the easy part of the quiz. Then Jesus turned to them: “Well who do you say that I am?” It’s one thing to say what others think; just a mundane recitation. But to say what you think — it’s no longer just a book report for the Teacher. But now it becomes a confession of faith for the Preacher.

            The typical order of worship where I grew up ended with an invitation. It wasn’t intended to be “welcoming,” but a time for people to make spiritual decisions. Mostly it was a way to join the church. Sometimes the invitation hymn lasted longer than the preaching! It was important because preachers were measured by “how many” came forward.  They’d get rid of those who didn’t measure-up and find one who could have ‘em streaming down the aisles! That’s why some preachers would sing a hymn twice, while the roast is burning! It’s a shallow, numerical approach to evangelism, with that “every-head-bowed, every-eye-closed” strategy. Just in case somebody “got saved,” after the preacher was done preaching, the audience was invited to “come forward” and join the church.

            If you waited too long, the hymn would be almost over before the preacher could get his little blue card filled out. You could mark one of 3 places: 1) Salvation. 2) Re-dedication. 3) church membership/baptism. When the invitation hymn ended, the preacher would read which box you marked, while you stood in front of all those people and confessed Jesus Christ as Lord. Going forward, filling out a card is rooted in Billy Graham revival methods and quite an ordeal for people unfamiliar with the process. Over the years as I’ve become more practical. I mercifully set-up “the Inquirer’s Room,” which allows for more time and less public pressure. Standing in front of all those people can be intimidating. The preacher didn’t intend to put us on the spot but when he said “Who do you say Jesus is?” that’s what it felt like. Staring down that lonely aisle seemed like a mile long! Because at the end of it, is that little blue card. And then you had to say “who you think Jesus is!” In my little hometown, they think that’ll make a man out of ya’!

            And wouldn’t you know after I did all that, they took me back to the preacher’s office for further quizzing! (That’s where I got the idea for an Inquirer’s Room!) Then at the evening service (you had to go to church twice in those days). It was announced that: “One came forward and didn’t quite understand. But we’ll proceed with baptism anyhow.” Joining the church can be unnerving with all that “going forward” stuff! It’s not like joining a golf club or the Y. Joining the church is not about what others think, but who you believe Jesus Christ is. Cause what others say’s just a rumor. But what do you say? Now you’re in church!

            Everyday we see people say all kinds of things in public, they’d like to walk back. I’ve had my share of those. But some I’ll let stand. About the time I joined the church I joined the Scouts.  We had to make a pledge in front of the troop: “On my honor I will do my best to do my duty to God and my country.” Next door over at the court house, every day somebody puts their hand on a Bible and raises the other hand. “Do you solemnly swear that the testimony you’re about to give is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” Yes sir. In vacation Bible school we “pledged allegiance to the flag of the USA.” Then we “pledged allegiance to the Bible, God’s holy word.”  Public pledging means more than what we say in private. When you say something in front of other people, who know you and know what you said and whether you meant it or not, it carries more weight. But none of that compares to standing in front of the church and saying: “I believe Jesus Christ is the Son of God and accept him as my Savior.”

            My home church was correct when the preacher allowed-as-how “One didn’t understand all it meant when I confessed Christ as Lord.” And I don’t pretend to know all that it means to this day. But I believe this: Jesus of Nazareth was sent by God to redeem us and offers the best way to live that anybody else has put forth yet. I believe that. I can’t explain every facet of the mystery of the Son of God, crucified and risen on the 3^rd day. But something happened or we wouldn’t be here today. People don’t willingly die for a lie they fabricated out of wishful thinking!

            Confessing Christ implies faith in God and support for his church. And a lot of people today resent both. The most-offended think the church is bad because it stands in the way of their political agendas. So they go around attacking something they claim they don’t believe in! What kind of sense does that make? Like Theodore Beza said awhile back, “The church is an anvil that’s worn out many a hammer.” The latest little hip hammers, like secular-progressives or objectivism crop up but the church keeps wearing them out! I don’t claim to understand all the mechanics of divinity. And I won’t bore you with wordy definitions of dogma that religious adherents relish in. That’s easy enough to narrate. But it’s repetition not profession. The two are not the same, by a long shot.    

            After all these years, since I was 8 years old, I never stopped believing that Jesus is the one who most shows us what God is like. That’s why I’ve spent a lifetime everywhere I’ve lived just “telling ‘em the stories of Jesus.” Most everybody likes to hear about Jesus.  In the Fourth gospel Phillip wanted to be close to God. “Show us God and we’ll be satisfied.” “If you have seen me, you’ve seen God.” That is the most staggering statement any human being ever uttered! It’s not enough to say “I believe there’s a God.” That’s just common sense. How do you think we got here, just accidents? That the earth just happened to spin in the proper orbit around the sun, not too hot, not too cold, with water and oxygen, so life could evolve? That no mind lies behind all this lacks credulity. Some try to keep a foot in both camps, and prefer the God you experience through nature. Or in fine arts; or lovely music; or out-on-the-golf-course-deities.

            Well then who do we say God is? The Bible says God is like Jesus. That’s enough for me. When the Pharisees caught Mary Magdalene in the act of adultery, they brought her to Jesus. “What do you say about her?” He said “The one without Sin cast the first stone.” That’s what God’s like. Or when he hugged the little children on his lap and blessed them, that’s what God is like. When an unclean leper cried out to Jesus, “Please help me.”  He goes “I will. Be clean.” God is like that. Or that time his disciples were arguing over which one’s the coolest. And he took a “towel and a basin of water” and stooped down to wash their dirty feet. That’s what God’s like. When he shouldered that old rugged cross up Mt.Calvary and would not come down, although he could have. God is like that.

            We don’t ask those who decide to join with us in this historic congregation a lot of probing questions. Nor do we perform intrusive background checks or test for gender or sexual preferences or race of even if you’re from the south someplace! That doesn’t mean we don’t have standards. Our proud stand for religious liberty and the separation of church and state means we stay out of divisive politics. We also expect you to confess your faith in Jesus Christ as the Son of God. We have to expect that. Otherwise we wouldn’t be a church. We’d be just another community organization. I think most people here have some kind of semblance of faith in God. Or at least try to.

            Then after the disciples confessed Christ, Jesus said “Hallelujah! Now go out and tell everybody you meet!” Nah, that’s not what he said. He said the opposite in fact. “He warned the disciples that they should tell no one that he was the Christ.” Matthew’s surprise is a warning! To tell or not to tell? I’ve run into that before. When the President came to our church during my Silver Spring days, it’s not like any other Sunday. Saturday night, the White House called and said, “Tell everyone you can.” And just as we hit the phones an hour later, the Secret Service called. “Don’t tell anyone!” I guess they had different agendas!

            Matthew’s Jesus is more in line with the Secret Service than the White House. I’m not sure why. It could be the disciples were still a little green at this. Simon Peter knew just enough to be dangerous! Yet he ended up with the “keys to the kingdom!” Sometimes you have to wait on other people. If they’re not ready to hear it, there’s no sense telling them anything, if they won’t listen. Nowadays, people are too busy chasing after lesser gods to give the Lord any quality time. You’d be wasting your breath. So let’s just admit that there are times we should not say Jesus is the Son of God. But there will come a time when that is the most important thing anybody could ever say. Because there are eternal consequences.

            There’s a lot in the scriptures I don’t understand. But we don’t have to know it all to believe a little. The Bible says “mustard-seed faith” will do! Without understanding the trinity we can still believe enough to say “The Lord our God is One Lord, one faith, one baptism.” You don’t have to be a scholar to recognize that Jesus is the “best of the breed,” of whom it was publicly announced from heaven, ”This is my beloved Son in whom I am well-pleased.” I believe that. And today’s as good a day as any to say so.

 ProvidencePrayers: (3/10/13)

            Lord, too many of us are living today with a sense that all we once prized is being inexorably diminished. Others seem all too happy to see it go. Today we remember those whose hearts are heavy, whether we’re coming or going.  Our faith teaches us that you are never nearer to your own than when our systems quake and our idols fall.

            Minister Thy grace to us out of Thy infinite power to bless. As time takes its toll and the outer nature alters, invigorate the inner spirits of all who bothered to come to worship today. Renew our minds with the mind of Christ, so that relationships matter more than money and the kingdom of God counts more than the kingdoms of this world. Give us clear sight to see our sins, and the grace to confess them, the will to forsake them and the wisdom to learn from them, that we may grow into the persons you intend for us to be.

            May this hour instill within us, the resources to face our challenges with courage and confidence. May it remind us that our ways our known to Thee; that faith outlasts the night; that Thy judgments are redemptive; and Thy mercies sure. May our time together in this Meeting House enable us to accept the fact that you are, and the love we have known in Jesus will someday rule the world.  Through Christ our Lord.