Trust and Obey

Second Sunday in Lent – Year C

February 24, 2013

Luke 13:31-35

At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to him, "Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you." He said to them, "Go and tell that fox for me, 'Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.' Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, 'Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.'"

This week has honestly been tough for me.  As most of you know I find tremendous strength when I see people overcome obstacles.  I think I’ve mentioned before how if you want to see me cry you make me watch the Special Olympics.  When I see people who are succeeding in their own unique way, in the face of the obstacles that their body, or their mind, or that society has placed in front of them it makes my heart sing.  There have been multiple times my wife has seen me sitting literally inches in front of the television with tears streaming down my face watching the Special Olympics.

This week has been tough for me because of the events in South Africa involving Oscar Pistorius.  The tragic story of his shooting of his girlfriend has caused a rather large blemish to appear on his otherwise inspiring life story.  His story of being a double leg amputee who would not allow his condition hinder him from becoming a world-class sprinter was one of the great stories of the London Olympics last summer.  Now, all his previous history no longer seems to matter; he has been accused of shooting to death his girlfriend.

The actual events of that tragedy are still be determined, with the prosecutors putting forwards one story; while Oscar and his defense team have presented their own account of the evening.  The defense story is dependent upon a sense of fear and insecurity.  They claim that Oscar’s girlfriend slipped into the bathroom when he got up to close the balcony door in his bedroom in the early hours of February 14^th.  Hearing noises and gripped with fear that someone had broken into his home, Pistorius says he grabbed his gun, yelled for the intruder to leave and shot through the bathroom door before realizing the person inside might have been his girlfriend; thus, leading to her tragic death.  Being gripped by fear for his life and the life of his girlfriend caused him to make the most terrible of mistakes, according to the defense.

Fear is a powerful thing.  All of us have been afraid at one time or another.  Hopefully, few of us have truly been in fear for our lives.  We might have been scared of being hurt, or suffering in some way; but I would wager that for most of us our fear was based in the world of emotions rather than in potential bodily harm.  We get on a roller coaster and are scared.  We go through a haunted house and scream in fear.  Even if we were to stumble when we are walking, and as we fall fearfully throw our hands out in front of us, I don’t think many of us would be in fear of our lives.  Afraid?  Scared?  Without a doubt.  But in fear of dying, not very likely.

I wonder what it would feel like to truly be in fear for your life.  I wonder what it would be like to have someone come up to you in a public place and declare that you were marked for death?  How would you react?  How could you?  Would you be able to function?  Would you run and hide, try to get away?  Would you spend the rest of your days looking over your shoulder nervously wherever you went?  Would you even go anywhere?  Would you lock yourself away behind closed doors, refusing to come out (like the disciples did following Jesus’ crucifixion)?  Me, I have no idea how I would react.  And hopefully I will never discover how I would.

Today in our gospel lesson we see how Jesus reacts.  Some of the Pharisees come to Jesus with the news that Herod is seeking to kill him.  Jesus gets the news and rather than running and hiding, rather than cowering, rather than all sorts of things that I think most of us would probably have done, he reacts angrily to the news.  He’s doing stuff, he’s too busy to be killed right.  His time is coming, but not now; “Don’t bother me.  I’m busy.”

Jesus seems to have little or no fear when told of his being on Herod’s kill list.  But, Jesus had a much closer relationship with God than anyone else has ever had.  And, if there is anything we can take from the Bible it is that those who trust in God have no reason to fear; that God will take care of them, in this world and the next.

In our lesson from Genesis this morning (15:1-12, 17-18 ) we heard the story of Abram and God, and God’s promise to Abram that a great nation would be made from his descendants.  Abram scoffs, yet God continues, “Trust in me, put aside your doubts and fears.  Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.” It couldn’t have been easy.  There Abram was well-advanced in age, his wife getting up there as well.  The realistic hopes of a child being born were, well, zero.  There was no way.  Even if it were to happen, do you think Sara would have survived the pregnancy much less the birth?  There Abram was, he wasn’t even sure who this God was that was speaking to him.  He had worshipped other gods before.  Why should he trust this one?  “Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.”  

In our Psalm (the 27^th), the psalmist begins by saying, “God is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?  God is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?”  In verse after verse the psalmist puts forth his trust in God; when the worst is happening, what is to be feared?  God will take care of him.  Even as the words shift in the middle of the Psalm to a lament, it is still based in trust.  We see that trust expressed in words from the psalmist of not giving up, of searching for God’s way.  Trust that in the midst of the turmoil that the psalmist is experiencing, God will act, God will deliver.  The goodness of God will be seen in the land of the living.

In our reading from Philippians (3:17–4:1), Paul writes how our faithful trust and dependence on God alone, in the face of the difficulties and humiliations we may be experiencing, will allow those same burdens to be transformed into something for the glory of God.  Trust in God leads to blessings.  Our citizenship is in heaven, and God cares for his own.

God cares for his own, and Jesus laments with the voice of God, of how often God has desired to save the people of Jerusalem.  Seeking them, gathering them together, walking with them.  Yet, they turn away again and again.  The image of the hen and her chicks is hauntingly beautiful.  Anyone who has been around animals has seen parents defending their children, putting themselves between their children and oncoming danger.  The image of the mother hen sheltering it chicks is just such an image. 

One of my favorite theologians, N.T. Wright, paints a beautiful picture of the mother hen and her brood.  He makes mention of how following a fire in a barn, it is not uncommon to find the roasted carcass of a mother hen with her still living chicks gathered under her protective wings.  The hen literally gave of itself so that its chicks might live.  Is this the type of image that Jesus is hoping that we can connect with?  Is it this image of a mother who will literally do anything and everything in her power to ensure that her children will survive? This is the most clearly stated vision so far in Luke as to how Jesus views his coming death.  He will be like the mother hen who sacrifices her life so that her chicks will survive.  Jesus will give his life so that God's children may live.

One of the aspects of this image that I find most powerful is how the survival of the chicks is dependent on how close they are to the mother hen.  In order for the chicks to survive though, they must trust in the hen.  They must come as close as they can together under her wings.  If they wander too far, if they are not tight against her body, they will not survive.  The survival of the chicks comes about only if they give up their own wants and desires, and trust fully in the hen.  They must have faith that the hen (the source of their life) will be able to protect them from the fire.

That is a truth that we also must learn.  It can be tempting to go our own way, to trust in our own abilities, our own strengths.  But, one of the truths that we all learn is when we trust in our own ways, our own strength, we will all eventually fail.  Placing our trust in our own abilities, over that of depending on God for our lives will bring about failure.  It happens every time we walk away from God’s desires for us.  And it’s not just when we wander away from God’s desires, it happens when we shun even the loving protection and embrace of resting under the shadow of God’s wings.

The season of Lent is a time when we are called to become more aware of our way of life.  It’s a time when we become more attuned to how our footsteps are in line with, or not in line with the ways of God.  The faithful walk – the Lenten walk – is to seek out the desires of God, and rest under the shadow of his protective outstretched arms.  It is when we place our trust in the Lord above all other things that we may be confident that our reward will be great and we will be able to declare with confidence: “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!”  Amen.

Grace in the Wilderness

First Sunday in Lent – Year C

February  17, 2013

Luke 4:1-13

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. The devil said to him, "If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread." Jesus answered him, "It is written, 'One does not live by bread alone.'"

Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And the devil said to him, "To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours." Jesus answered him, "It is written,
     'Worship the Lord your God,
         and serve only him.'"
Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, "If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written,
    'He will command his angels concerning you,
       to protect you,'
and
   'On their hands they will bear you up,
       so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.'"

Jesus answered him, "It is said, 'Do not put the Lord your God to the test.'" When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time.

It’s hard to believe, but Lent is already upon us, which means that in 5 weeks it will be Easter!  And yes, it is early this year.  The history of Lent is somewhat fascinating.  It’s something we probably don’t think that much about, it’s just another one of those funny ways the church has decided to break up the calendar.  So what is Lent?

Well,simply put, “Lent is a season of forty days, not counting Sundays, which begins on Ash Wednesday and ends on Holy Saturday.  Lent comes from the Anglo Saxon word lencten, which means "spring."  The forty days represents the time Jesus spent in the wilderness, enduring the temptation of Satan and preparing to begin his ministry (our text for today).  Lent is a time of repentance, fasting and preparation for the coming of Easter. It is a time of self-examination and reflection.”  “Today, Christians focus on their relationship with God, with some choosing to give up something or to volunteer and give of themselves for others.” [1]

In the early church, Lent was a time of preparation for new converts.  Easter was not only the celebration of Jesus’ resurrection, the declaration of the new life that Jesus had brought into being, but the time when new converts were baptized.  What better way to symbolize the new life they were entering than to pass through the waters of baptism?  Lent was about getting oneself ready for Easter, getting oneself ready for baptism, getting oneself ready for the new life you were entering.  Lent was about coming face to face with the demons in your life, and declaring they would not have power over you.

This morning we heard the story of Jesus coming literally face to face with the prince of demons: the devil himself.  There is always a desire when we read biblical texts, to put ourselves into the story.  We want to find ways of applying the text to ourselves.  Jesus was tempted, we also are tempted, so the story is applicable to us too, right?  There is truth there to be sure, but let’s be really honest for a second.  Not a single one of us would be able to resist the way Jesus did.  Not a single one of us would be able to.  The story of Jesus in the desert, being tempted by the devil is about Jesus, pure and simple.  It’s about who Jesus is, who he understood himself to be, what his mission, his time amongst us was going to look like.  It’s not about us.

One of the things about this passage I find most interesting is the devil recognizing who Jesus is.  Some translations record the devil saying, “If you are the Son of God,” others have say, “Since you are the Son of God.”  The original language is much closer to the meaning of ‘since’.  The devil begins his argument by stating that Jesus is the Son of God.  That changes things a little.

“Jesus, you’re the Son of God.  Why are you suffering this way?  You have great power, do something with it.  You know you want to.  What would it hurt, it’s just a couple of rocks?  No one will ever know.”  “Jesus, you’re the Son of God. We both have an idea about what you’re here to do: transform the world, bring about a new way of living.  But, wouldn’t it be easier if you could just rule over everyone and tell them, command them what to do?  I can do that for you.  No suffering, no pain.  You can still get people to see the wisdom of your ways.  Just, do it this way.”  “Jesus, you’re the Son of God.  Don’t you think God will take care of you?  I mean, you’re the Son , right?  Why don’t you prove it?  Can you imagine how many people would come flocking to you if they saw God intervene to save your life?  Everyone would see how special you are.”  “What’s it going to hurt?  You still get your goal of transforming the way of life around here.  You are the Son of God.”

The devil certainly has a way with words.  When we are at our weakest, when we are most vulnerable is when the devil shows up with his arguments.  Feeling left out, here’s a group that will accept you.  Feeling poor, here’s a way to make a quick buck.  Feeling unloved, here’s an easy excuse for “love”.  Feeling like you aren’t good enough, here’s a message that you are better than you think you are.

When it comes to temptation and the skillful words of the devil one of the great stories is the one we heard this morning from the Old Testament.  How Eve and Adam (yes, he was there too) were tempted by the devil.  There they were hanging out in paradise, everything provided for them.  And the devil shows up and says they could have so much more.  Sure, God has provided all they need, but what if there were more?  What if they could grasp ahold of something, do something themselves to show that they were capable of providing for themselves.  What if they could show God that they didn’t need him quite so much?  I mean, they were made in the image of God, why couldn’t they do what they wanted to do?  They had the power to take control of the situation, do things their way.

Isn’t the temptation of Jesus that same test?  Isn’t the devil telling Jesus that he has the power to take care of his own needs?  That he has the power to ensure his own success?  That the goal of transforming the world, of making sure the message is heard by as many people as possible, is what’s important, not so much the way you get there?

Jesus’ rebuffs the words of the devil, in much the same way that he responds to his own insecurities in the Garden of Gethsemane, “Not my will, but thine.”  Even after 40 days wandering in the desert.  Even knowing he had the power to alleviate his own hunger and suffering, even knowing he had the power to make the coming years way more enjoyable, he doesn’t do it.  The words of the devil fail, where they succeed in the Garden of Eden.  Adam and Eve’s failure to trust in God for all their needs, to say that God was enough, caused life in the presence of God to change, brought about their expulsion from paradise.  Yet, Jesus’ trust in God was the beginning of the restoration of life in God’s presence, in paradise itself.

Last week, our text included the directive from God to, “Listen to Him”.  In Jesus we see someone listening to the voice of scripture, to the voice of God.  There are voices that are always swirling around us, sometimes loudly, sometimes softly, demanding our attention, urging and coaxing us to listen to them.  Are we listening to the voice of God, or to other voices?  Are we listening to voices that stir within us, pushing us in different directions?  What voices are tempting us?

Temptation is not about making someone do something, it’s about pushing someone toward deciding to do something they were capable of doing all along.  The devil doesn’t make you do it; the devil helps you find your way around the excuses and limits you have in place to prevent certain actions and behaviors.  The devil makes us see the options, we choose to take the path.  We choose not to trust in the promises of God.   Lent, trials and temptations, growing in faith; it’s about learning to trust in God.  It’s about learning to put God first in all things.  It’s about learning to put aside our own desires for success and honor.  It’s about learning not to test God, to determine whether or not God is there, whether or not God cares.  It’s sort of like marriage, as soon as one starts wondering or asking, "If you really love me, then . . . ." then one is no longer living by the marriage promise, but using it to manipulate the other.  As soon as we start looking for ways to prove God's presence, ways to prove God’s love, we are not living by God's word.  We are no longer living by faith.

Obedience doesn't come naturally, even to the best of us. But that's the reason the season of Lent is so important. If we can learn to recognize the voice of temptation during these forty days, perhaps we will be wise enough to know him when he speaks during the rest of the year.  God desires us to put our trust in him completely, totally.  There are so many things we could never do, so many places we could never go if it were up to our own strength, our own decisions.

Jesus was in the wilderness, in the desert; alone but not alone, weak but not weak.  When he could have easily chosen a different path, he chose obedience.  In the wilderness of our own lives, in the solitude of this holy season and throughout the rest of the year and our lives, may we trust in God and the grace he gives us, to choose not only who we are, what we will be and do, but also whose we will be.  Amen.

---

[1] http://www.umc.org/site/apps/nlnet/content.aspx?c=lwL4KnN1LtH&b=4841001&ct=3334445

And God's grace is for.....?

4th Sunday after the Epiphany - Year C

February 3, 2013

Luke 4:21-30

Then he began to say to them, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing." All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, "Is not this Joseph's son?" He said to them, "Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, 'Doctor, cure yourself!' And you will say, 'Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.'" And he said, "Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet's hometown. But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land; yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian." When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.

Last summer was my wife’s 25^th high school class reunion; and in a little over two years my class is planning on gathering to recall the stories of high school and share what has happened in the 25 years since we graduated.  Reunions can be a lot of fun.  All of us have had the opportunity of getting together with someone we haven’t seen in a while.  The years almost seem to melt away.  Whether it was 2 years or 20, we start over where we had left off.  My brother and I are like that.  We may go for months without actually talking to each other, and the moment we are together, it’s like we were never apart.

I enjoy being able to catch up with the lives and events that have happened in my friends lives.  But there is also something bittersweet in how the years melt away.  In the years we have been apart we have grown and changed, yet there is a tendency to remember the person who was rather than to see the person who is.  It’s sort of like when you see nieces and nephews or grandchildren after a long break, they have grown and changed in so many ways; yet, you still think of the way you bounced them on your knee, and are shocked to hear they are now riding a bike or have been to their first ‘big kid’ dance.

Then there are our classmates who have done well.  I have a classmate from Wartburg who has been on the forefront of creating drugs to fight cancer since she was on college.  I have another classmate who is hoping to find a publisher for his first novel.  Another classmate is the pastor of one of the biggest churches in Minnesota.  To the best of my knowledge, none of my classmates have struck it rich, and given lots of money back to the schools they went to.  I heard last week that Michael Bloomberg the mayor of New York City has committed to giving another $350 million to his alma-mater John Hopkins; that brings his gifts to that school to over a billion dollars!

I find it funny how schools tend to advertise their famous graduates.  Even towns will do their best to get something out of their famous former residents.  Here in Iowa, West Branch advertises itself as the birthplace of President Herbert Hoover.  John Wayne was born in Winterset.  The artist Grant Wood was born just outside of Anamosa.  Wrestling legend Dan Gable was born just down the road in Waterloo.  And, who can forget that Capt. James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise is going to be born in Riverside in the year 2233!

We take pride in the children that have grown up around us.  We think of them as part of who we are (even if we never met them).  When we get the opportunity, we want to celebrate their achievements, claim their being one of us, make them Grand Marshall of the Fourth of July parade.  As long as they don’t do anything to embarrass us, as long as they still say they grew up around us, as long as they come home and let us bask a little bit in their notoriety it all works out.

But what if that person we are so proud of having graduated from our school, gives a huge gift to the school down the road and ignores us?  What if that politician who grew up next door stops caring about his hometown and is more concerned with the capital?  What if our hometown boy who ends up playing in the Super Bowl doesn’t even mention his hometown, or his high school coach in interviews?  What if a member of our church dies and leaves a huge endowment to the church in the next town, and not to us?

Our text is really a story about the hometown boy returning in the midst of his growing notoriety.  The town is proud; this is one of their own.  But, things don’t turn out all that great for Jesus, or the crowd gathered at the synagogue.   I’ve heard some people say that Jesus was rejected and unable to do miracles in his hometown because the people couldn’t accept him for who he was, they all remembered too strongly the youth that had grown up in their midst, had play dates and sleep-overs with their kids.  But I don’t think that’s really what’s going on here.

If we look back just a few verses, the people were thrilled to have Jesus home.  They were eager to have him around, they gathered to hear what he might say, they wanted to see some of the miracles they were hearing rumors of.  So things started out well enough, then something changed.  Jesus explained in a bit more detail the full impact of what he had read, of what his coming meant, of how the Kingdom he was inaugurating was going to work.

Suddenly, the people weren’t so thrilled.  Jesus placed himself among the prophets of the Old Testament.  Prophets are interesting people, because pretty much all prophets are independent contractors; they work for God alone.  It doesn’t matter where they grew up, where they went to school, who their relatives are; they cannot be influenced by those connections.  They follow the guidance of God alone.  Jesus puts himself in that place, and suddenly the folks in Nazareth realized they weren’t going to get anything by riding on the coattails of their hometown boy.  His focus in ministry will not be on them but others; not on insiders but on those that have been excluded and pushed aside.  That’s not what they wanted to hear.  They thought that the Messiah, their hometown boy, was there to serve their needs, not the needs of others.

All of us want to have a gracious God.  We want to be able to proclaim that God is good, that God is a source of blessing.  But, what we really want to be able to say is that God is good to us.  That God has blessed us.  That we are special in God’s eye, at least more special than those people over there that are so messed up.  After all, the Messiah, he’s our home town boy, he’s our Messiah.  Of course he’s going to do special things in our midst.  Why wouldn’t he?

The people in Nazareth recognize and marvel at Jesus' "gracious words" (v. 22); but when illustrations of how God's grace has been given to outsiders are shared; their feelings turn to rage.  They are hearing that God does not act the way they want God to act.  They may claim God as theirs, but God claims a lot more than just them.  Do we really want a gracious God?  Certainly we do -- for ourselves; but can we have a gracious God if we don't believe that the same grace is given to those sinners outside our church doors, outside our faith traditions, outside our boundaries of acceptability?

It’s not a comfortable question.  The folks in Nazareth certainly didn’t like it.  But it’s a question we must be willing to challenge ourselves with, unless we want Jesus to do what he did on that day in Nazareth and pass through our midst and go on his way.  Amen.

Walk the Talk

Third Sunday after Epiphany – Year C

January 27, 2013

Luke 4:14-21

Then Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.

When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:
   "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
     because he has anointed me 
        to bring good news to the poor.
    He has sent me to proclaim 
        release to the captives 
     and recovery of sight to the blind, 
        to let the oppressed go free, 
    to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor."

And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."

I’m not sure if I can handle any more quotes.  In the new internet media world we live in, it’s not uncommon to see quotes from people being used on Facebook pages, or on twitter, or as the basis for posters or other such things on Pinterest.  Last week, on Monday, it was Martin Luther King Jr. day, and I saw and read numerous quotes from him on Facebook throughout the day.   I myself went to one of the many sites on the internet, searching through the many quotes by Dr. King to find the one that I felt I wanted to put on my Facebook page.  So, if I can’t handle any more quotes I guess I’m partly to blame.

All of us know people who like to quote verses from the Bible.  They sometimes seem to have the whole of scripture memorized.  You say something about how beautiful the day is, and they come back with a quote from Psalms about the beauty of the day palling in comparison to the glory of God.  You say something about how you feel a little under the weather, and they return with a scripture about healing coming from God to those who ask.  As people of faith we turn to our scriptures for help and guidance.  We turn to pastors and theologians for guidance in how we look and understand the Bible, how we can understand what it is that God desires of us, what it is that God has done for us.

One of the pastors that our country tends to look to for wisdom and guidance is Rick Warren, who is the pastor of Saddleback Church in Orange County, California; one of the most influential churches in America.  He has spoken and prayed with presidents and many leaders throughout our country.  In his extremely popular book A Purpose Driven Life, there are literally hundreds of scripture citations.  Multiple times on each page Pastor Warren cites scripture as the basis for how he advises his reader to live their lives according to the precepts and desires of God.  Yet, nowhere in the book does the passage we heard from Luke this morning ever get quoted.  This powerful, self-revelatory statement by Jesus about what his life and ministry were to be about is apparently not relevant (at least to Pastor Warren) in guiding his readers to have a “purpose driven life.”

Yet, it is this passage that Jesus chooses to read and interpret when he visits the synagogue on his hometown.  Jesus could have read from any place in the Hebrew Bible, he chose to read from this one.  He could have read any number of passages about salvation or sin, or the greatness of God, or the acts of God in the past.  He chose to read this one.  Jesus here states what it is he came to do.

This last week as a nation we watched as President Obama was sworn in for his second term as president.  We may have spent some time on Monday watching or listening to the day-long festivities and happenings on inauguration day.  We may have listened to his inauguration speech.  As citizens of the United States, we look to the President, and the Presidents words to guide us (whether we voted for him or not).  His words and actions are to be a vision for the country, the ideals of the country, the defense of our liberty and union.  As Christians we look to Jesus’ words to guide us.    

This was Jesus’ inaugural address in Luke, the first time Jesus spoke and shared his vision and intent for his coming ministry.  Yet, how often do we as a church think about Jesus’ ministry in his own words?  How often do we think about how we respond and mirror Jesus’ life and calling in our own lives and churches?  Jesus spoke of salvation in real world terms.  In the modern world, and church, we tend to focus very often on salvation in “other-world” terms.  Why?  Is it because we feel that there is so much to do that we feel we can’t ever succeed?  Is it because we feel somehow not up to the task?  Is it because to act to solve the real world problems would mean we actually had to get dirty?  Jesus focused his ministry on saving the people here and now, so that they may have life – life now.  The church seems to focus on saving the people here and now, so that they may have life later in eternity.

One of the truths that we must recognize is Jesus’ words only ring true when we admit and recognize that there are those that hear his words from places of poverty, captivity, blindness, and oppression.  That was his audience.  Do we count ourselves amongst these groups?  If we’re honest, there may be some of us, but for most of us we are blessed to live lives that are free from much that Jesus listed.  So we seek to find other ways to make Jesus words applicable to “us.”  If we can’t find a way in this world, then the next will do just fine.  Besides, we’re already Christian, so Jesus has already delivered us, “we’re doing just fine, thank you Jesus!”

But, the words of Jesus, the ministry of Jesus was all about freeing people from the things that bound, oppressed, controlled and hindered them in this world.  And, our calling to speak words of good news and relief is also in this world.  Yes, without a question there is an eternal aspect to the good news that we have heard and are called to share, but there is a real world aspect as well.

What would happen if the words of Jesus’ inaugural address were to be as engraven on our hearts in the same depth of meaning as John 3:16?  What if our guiding words were to bring release, sight, freedom?  What if we took seriously the call to set people free from the things of this world that limit and control them; from the powers of this world that treat them as less than human?  Hard words, and as we’ll hear next week, the response of the crowd in the synagogue was not that kind to Jesus’ words. 

What scandalized the people in Nazareth that day was the way in which Jesus offered God’s grace to everyone.  Sure, he spoke of the poor, the sick, the oppressed, the imprisoned.  But what made Jesus’ proclamation so shocking was the fact that he offered the blessings of God’s Kingdom not just to the “righteous,” but also to “sinners.”  The religious people of Jesus’ day expected God’s blessings for themselves. They believed they had earned them by their good lives.  And besides, they were God’s people after all, children of the covenant.  They were convinced that they deserved God’s grace, while the “sinners” (or at least people that were not like them, or as blessed as them, or as religious as them, or who didn’t go to their synagogue, or listen to the right teachers) deserved punishment. But Jesus came along offering God’s blessings indiscriminately to everyone. It’s hard to imagine anything more scandalous in Jesus’ day.

And if we are honest about it, it’s pretty scandalous and hard to hear in our day as well.  After all, we are the church.  We are the forgiven people of God.  We are the ones who have been in washed in the blood of the Lamb, sealed by the Holy Spirit.  We gather together knowing our place as the children of God.  It’s shocking how I have heard people throughout my life, good God-fearing people, people who grew up in the church, who go to church every Sunday become shocked, almost angry when they discover that the hope and goal of the Bible is that all people be saved.  The response that sometimes comes with this realization is, “If everyone is going to be saved, then why go to church?”

First, this is not about universal salvation.  But, it is about salvation.  It is about the way we understand salvation.  You see, the response they had was because they viewed salvation as something they took part in (you see, they went to church.)  But, salvation isn't primarily about us making the right choices or believing the right things. Salvation really isn't about us at all! It’s about God. It’s about God’s love for all creation. It’s about God’s plan to draw everything and everyone he has made into his love and into his life through his grace.

What this means for us is that we cannot view, the church, we cannot view ourselves as God’s “favorites” who receive “special” blessing over and above others.  It means that we all receive the gift of God’s grace that extends to everyone equally.  It means that no one can be viewed as outside God’s grace—no one is excluded; all are welcome.  And, as Jesus quote made clear, this is about here-and-now, not just in the age to come, in the Kingdom to come.  Quotes can be powerful things.  May God’s Spirit free us to be guided and empowered by the inaugural words of Jesus in our own lives.  You can quote me on that.  Amen.

L'Chaim - To Life

Second Sunday after Epiphany – Year C

January 20, 2013

John 2:1-11

On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, "They have no wine." And Jesus said to her, "Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come." His mother said to the servants, "Do whatever he tells you." Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. Jesus said to them, "Fill the jars with water." And they filled them up to the brim. He said to them, "Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward." So they took it. When the steward tasted the water that had become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the steward called the bridegroom and said to him, "Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now." Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.

One of the jokes about weddings that has a lot of truth in it is, “something always goes wrong.” It’s true. Sometimes it’s something that’s controllable in some way. Something that should have been planned for and arranged that somehow ended up being missed. But, most of the time it’s something no one could have foreseen or planned for. Someone sneezes at exactly the wrong time. Someone trips when walking up or down the aisle. The flower girl runs for the hills. The pastor flubs a line. Things happen. That’s life.

I actually find that those little mistakes in life are actually very relieving in moments of high stress like weddings. Once something has happened, you tend to relax a little, laugh a little, enjoy the moment a bit more. Everyone is nervously waiting for the shoe to drop, and breathes a bit of a sigh of relief when something finally happens.

Anyone who has ever been in a wedding, or helped to arrange a wedding knows that as much as we try to say it’s a joyous event, there’s a lot of stress and worry that goes along with it. You have the ceremony, the location of all the things happening over the day or two; who will take pictures? Who will preside? What about the bride’s dress? the grooms tux? Then there are all the arrangements for the rehearsal dinner, and the reception following the ceremony. Who is going to sit next to who? Are you going to serve the chicken, beef, or fish? Who makes the final decision on the wine used for the toast?

Every wedding that I’ve been to has had something in common: more than enough food. It seems as if they plan for about 20% more people than they know are coming, and perhaps they do. It would make sense. Could you imagine the mood of the reception if halfway through an announcement had to be made that the roast was done, the chicken was gone, and they were down to just a few servings of pasta. I think people would be mortified. I can just see the parents of the bride and groom huddled in the corner trying to decide which pizza delivery place to call. It would be a very uncomfortable position to be in, whether you were one of the guests or one of the hosts.

Yet, that was the situation Jesus and his mother, Mary found themselves in our text from today. They were guests at a wedding, when the wine ran out. Now, if we think wedding celebrations here are big events. In ancient Israel, they were huge. Wedding celebrations went on for a week! They were a huge community celebration. People came and ate and drank for days on end. The overflowing of food and drink was a sign of the overflowing blessings that were hoped to be experienced by the newly married couple. And the wine runs out! Talk about a disaster. Talk about a bad omen for the poor couple’s marriage. Not only was running out of wine a hugely disastrous event for the host, it was really bad karma for the bride and groom. And what was Jesus’ response to his learning of this terrible thing happening? “What concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come."

Well, that’s disappointing. What about Jesus’ empathy? What about Jesus’ love and caring? Who is this person? I wonder if there was a fair amount of unspoken, unrecorded information between Jesus’ statement and the next verse: “His mother said to the servants, "Do whatever he tells you."” I can see Mary looked with a shocked and disappointing look at her son, who she knows is so much better than how he just responded. Jesus looking back, with a “What?” sort of expression on his face. Then Mary, transforming her face into the one that all children know, and all mothers have mastered: that look of disapproval that demands that you change your behavior and mood. Then Jesus, seeing his mother’s disappointment lowers his face with resignation and nods slowly. His mother turns to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” I know the text doesn’t say it, I know that it’s a bit uncomfortable to think of in this way, but Jesus was fully human, and that means he was just as prone to being in a not-so-good mood as the rest of us, just ask that poor fig tree he was upset with along the road later on.

In the end, Jesus performs the miraculous, and 6 huge clay jars of water are transformed into the highest quality vintage. The wedding is saved. The bride and groom retain their honor, and Jesus gets his ministry off to a good starts. John says that this was the first sign Jesus did. It’s important to note that in John’s gospel, Jesus doesn’t perform miracles, her performs signs.

A miracle is an in-breaking of God’s grace into our lives, while a sign points to something that we are looking for, or are about to experience. Each of Jesus’ miraculous signs in John’s gospel point to something of importance, something about Jesus, something about the in-breaking Kingdom of God.

One of the images of the Kingdom, and of Heaven itself that we find throughout scripture is the feast. Isaiah’s 25th chapter has a beautiful image of God’s victory: “On this mountain the LORD of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of fat things, a feast of wine on the lees, of fat things full of marrow, of wine on the lees well refined.” (Isaiah 25:6 RSV) In Revelation, we read that those who are invited to the final marriage feast of the Lamb are blessed. Throughout his ministry, Jesus used parables with feasts to teach, and used a feast on the evening of his betrayal to share with his disciples the deepest truths and purposes of his coming. A feast, a table full of good things, is a sign of the Kingdom of God, of the Reign of God breaking in.

It’s a rather unfortunate thing that for many people church is viewed as boring, as being blah, as something you go to out of duty rather than the party you want to go to. Without doubt, there are times for deep thought and solemnity in the life of the church, but we gather before an altar that also serves as a table, we break bread together, we share in the feast of Christ. The in-breaking of God in our midst, of which the church is a sign, is portrayed as a joyous feast, a party. What’s boring, or solemn, or lifeless about that?

The first sign that John presents of Jesus is the changing of water into wine that the feast, the celebration, the party may continue. It’s a sign that Jesus is the Messiah who has come to fulfill the promises of old. The One who has come to bring on the feasting. Is that the image of Jesus you have? The life of the party? The one who provides the best food and drink, the one who stands and tells the best stories and jokes, the one who gives the best toasts?

If you ever go to a Jewish wedding or celebration, there is a toast that you will most likely hear, “L’chaim!”, “To life!” I’m sure that at the wedding in Cana, as the glasses full of wine were raised for seven days of celebration, you heard it many times, “L’Chaim!” And I’m sure that on that third day, after the first wine had run out, and Jesus provided the new wine, the shouts of “L’chaim” were probably even louder. The party has begun, the feast is in full swing, and then out of nowhere the wine improves, the quality of the feast takes a step up. Jesus steps in and takes the celebration to the next level. To life!

There are many different ways to think about the life which we have been blessed with. We may think of it is a journey. We may think of it as a burden we must bear. We may think of it as a blessing. We may even think of it as a party. A party where the guests come and go, yet the party continues. A party where there is laughter and joy, yet also moments of sadness and pain. A party where we may at times feel alone, a wallflower left to look with longing at the fun being had by others. A party where we never know what is going to happen next, who is going to engage us in conversation next. A party that as good as it is, can only be improved by the one whose coming, whose first sign, enabled the party to continue. The one who makes the party even better. The one whose presence brings with it the abundance of life, the blessings of life, the joy of the Kingdom, the feast of God. Jesus, the life of the party, the reason the celebration may continue, the one in whom we find our joy and the strength to shout, “L’chaim!”

I want to close with a few words from one of the most memorable songs in Fiddler on the Roof, “To Life” sung by Tevye and the men in the village in celebration of the betrothal of one of Tevye’s daughters to the butcher Lazar Wolf. In the midst of the hard life they led, in the midst of the presence of Russain soldiers who made their lives difficult, in the middle of a party that was far from being a party, they shouted out, “L’chaim!” How much more then can we, who have been graced with the presence of the life of the party himself, shout out, “L’chaim!” ourselves, giving praise to our God that gives us the sweetest of wine to drink?

To us and our good fortune
Be happy be healthy, long life!
And if our good fortune never comes
Here's to whatever comes,
Drink l'chaim, to life!

To life, to life, l'chai-im,!
L'chai-im, l'chai-im, to life!
Life has a way of confusing us
Blessing and bruising us,
Drink l'chaim, to life,

To life, l'chaim!
L'chaim, l'chaim, to life!
A gift we seldom are wise enough
Ever to prize enough,
Drink l'chaim, to life!

God would like us to be joyful
Even though our hearts lie panting on the floor;
How much more can we be joyful,
When there's really something
To be joyful for.

To life, to life, L'chai-im!
L'chai-im, l'chai-im, to life!
It gives you something to think about,
Something to drink about,
Drink l'chai-im, to life! l'chai-im!

Joy in a time of tragedy?

Third Sunday of Advent – Year C

December 16, 2012

Zephaniah 3:14-20

            This morning we lit our third advent candle.  It was pink.  All the other candles are purple, with the Christ candle being white.  So the fact that today’s candle is pink must mean it’s special in some way.  The third Sunday in Advent is the Sunday we celebrate and name with ‘joy’.  I don’t know about you, but after the events of the last few days I’m not sure if I can find much to be joyful about.

            The events that happened at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut on Friday have caused all of us to pause.  I know I hugged my girls a little closer that evening.  When horrific, terrible things happen we want to know why.  In the week before the latest tragedy we learned that the lives of two girls from just a few miles away have also been ended.  We heard about multiple shootings on the West Coast on the news.  We read about the escalation of tensions between Israel and Palestine.  We hear about the continuing events in Syria.  How many other little girls, how many other children, how many other people have lost their lives in the last week?

            It’s crazy.  We live in a world where it seems as if life is suddenly cheap.  It’s easier to get a gun than to see a doctor in many places.  There’s something wrong with that.  It seems as if every day we hear or read about some new atrocity rising up to replace the one from the previous day.  Unless of course it’s not quite as bad, then the old will remain until some new even worse or more exciting tragedy shows up.  Sometimes I don’t want to turn on my t.v. or computer; I don’t need, I don’t want, to see what new terrible thing has happened.

            Today we are supposed to be joyful.  Isn’t that what we heard this morning from the prophet Zephaniah? “Sing aloud, O daughter Zion; shout, O Israel!  Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter Jerusalem!”  Isaiah writes, “Shout aloud, and sing for joy!”  On any other Sunday I’m sure that we could easily gather around our Advent wreath, around our Christmas trees and sing songs of joy.  We could look at our children’s happy faces and smile with joy, and not sigh with relief that we have not had to face the terrible news that so many have had to deal with in the last few days.  Rejoice, be joyful – after all our candle is pink.

            It doesn’t seem possible.  It doesn’t seem right, appropriate, even decent.  How are we supposed to find joy when everything going on around us seems so dark?  How are we supposed to look forward with hope, when the dreams and hopes of so many have been so brutally snuffed out?  Is it even right that as people of faith we gather to celebrate this Sunday we call joy when joy is the last thing on our mind?  Our readings and liturgical calendar call us to cry out, “rejoice!”, when our hearts want to cry out, “Where is God?”

            We are not the first, and we will not be the last, who wonder about the presence of God in the midst of tragedy, the role of the spiritual when innocent lives are lost.  Two and a half thousand years ago the nation of Israel was in a state of chaos and tragedy.  The king of Israel at the time was Manasseh.  Manasseh was a puppet king for the Assyrians who had conquered the Promised Land.  The Assyrians were not what you would call nice people; and Manasseh was a puppet king in their image.  History and scripture has recorded that he was one of the most evil and wicked rulers that ever sat on the throne of Israel.  In 2 Kings we read how he defiled the temple with false gods, how instead of trusting in our God he turned to fortune tellers and magicians.  How he didn’t lift up those who followed the ways of God, but persecuted them.  We even read how he killed innocent children, how he practiced child sacrifice, going so far as killing his own son.  2 Kings tells us that “Manasseh spilled so much innocent blood that he filled up every corner of Jerusalem with it.” (2 Kings 21:16)  It was at this time, in this situation, in this time of darkness and evil that Zephaniah wrote his words.

            To be accurate, Zephaniah doesn’t start with joy.  The words we read today are the last verses of the scroll; and for most of the preceding chapters it was far from joyful.  Those preceding verses and chapters are filled with Zephaniah speaking in the voice of God, speaking out against the evil that was happening in Israel.  In words eerily similar to the emotions that many of us probably felt on Friday and since, he writes of a day “of fury, a day of distress and anxiety, a day of desolation and devastation, a day of darkness and gloominess, a day of clouds and deep darkness, a day for blowing the trumpet and alarm.” (2:15)

            So often in the face of tragedy and horror we want to make sense of it all, or explain it, or even figure out who to blame for it, but Zephaniah doesn’t do that.  He tells it like it is and what it is: horror, tragedy, suffering.    The setting may be different, but the emotions, the feelings we are experiencing of anger and pain, sorrow, desolation and despair are named by Zephaniah.  But, Zephaniah doesn’t just say that things are bad, he tells us that God is with us in it; that God is experiencing the same anger, hurt and mourning we are feeling.

            Then, at the very end of the book, Zephaniah makes the shift.  Not only is God with the Israelites in their pain, in their anger and sorrow, in their despair and tragedy; God was going to do something about it.  “Wait for me.  I will come.  I will remove the disaster from you.”  Not now. Not yet. Not joy realized, but joy promised. Not joy fulfilled, but joy coming.  Zephaniah does not declare that everything is alright, or even that it will be alright again soon.  Nothing about dead children is ever “alright,” whether two days or 2 and a half millennia ago, whether caused by a mass shooting or an abusive king, or war, or famine, or bullying, or addiction, or suicide, or cancer, or anything else.  He does not tell us to get over it, move on, or be happy.  The prophet speaks of joy because he wants us to know that in spite of it all, God still reigns. How could he speak of joy in the face of tragedy?  How could he not.  How can we not?

            It’s not about thumbing our nose at tragedy or despair.  It’s not about saying that it’s all in God’s plan, or God will make something good out of the bad.  It’s about proclaiming that no amount of darkness, no amount of tragedy can ever diminish, remove, stop the promise of God, that God would come, that God will rescue us; that God will be with us.  Emmanuel.

            The words of Zephaniah share with us the promise of God, “The time is coming when you will not fear evil ever again!  I am in your midst, and I will create calm with my love. I will heal the lame.  I will gather the outcast.  I will change your shame into praise.  I will bring all of you home.”

            In the darkest of night, a flickering candle can scatter the gloom.  At this time, in the midst of our questioning, our gloom, our sorrow, our anger and pain, we need the light of a pink candle more than ever.  The candle promises of light that is to come.  It promises of hope that will never go away.  We need the promise of joy, today, not because the joy is here; but because we need to know that it is still coming.

We may not feel it.  We may not recognize it.  We may not even want to see it, but it doesn’t mean that God’s promise of joy is not there, waiting to spring forth, waiting to become real, waiting to be amongst us.  Emmanuel.  In the midst of our fear, in the midst of our grief, in the midst of our anger and questioning, we hear the promise spoken again by an angel to shepherds on a hill,  “Fear not, for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy.”  Amen.

Kingdom of Grace and Peace

John 18:33-37

Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, "Are you the King of the Jews?" Jesus answered, "Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?" Pilate replied, "I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?" Jesus answered, "My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here." Pilate asked him, "So you are a king?" Jesus answered, "You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice."

As of a few days ago we have officially entered the holiday season. For the next month and a bit our already busy lives will become busier, and the amount of stress that we are all carrying will most likely increase. The holiday season is one that we all tend to both look forward to and dread at the same time. We look forward to the good times, the happiness, the joy of Christmas morning, the joy of a new year. Yet we also dread things. How will we ever use up all the leftover turkey? How will we deal with those extra holiday pounds that always seem to show up? There seems to always be something that we need to watch out for. As we get older we tend to be better and better in anticipating those potential headaches; it’s either that or we simply don’t care as much.

One of the things that we all have come to understand is that there are certain traditions, certain things that you have to do, and avoid doing at all costs. I’ve noticed that many of them involve the kitchen, or at least mealtime. This last week when we celebrated Thanksgiving, we had to have a roast in addition to a turkey because that’s part of the tradition (my mother-in-law doesn’t consider it a holiday meal without a roast.) I was also reminded that I was now the unofficial, official carver of the meat – which meant that there was absolutely no way any of the slices were the same thickness or size, or stayed the same thickness from the top of the slice to the bottom. Every family has its traditions, has its own unique way of doing things.

One of the hurdles that every couple that gets married, or gets serious has to overcome is learning the rules of the new extended family. The better one learns and masters the rules the happier the holidays and family get-togethers will be. You can always tell the new ones at the family functions, they are the ones who are being a little too helpful in the kitchen, the ones setting uncle Bob and cousin Jim near each other. They are the ones who put the potatoes in grandma’s special bowl. You must learn the ways of the family. We all have things to learn about life and this world.

How often have we observed a child making a mistake in a social situation and commented, “They need to learn the ways of the world.” We go to a mechanic to get our car repaired, and know that they will most likely try to get us to repair something that really doesn’t need to be repaired, because, “that’s the way the world works.” We see businesses and individuals achieving success and notoriety on the backs and hard work of others, and accept it because, ‘that’s the way the world works.” We all have our own memories and experiences when we learned how the world works; when we became hardened to the world around us. I think it’s funny how we sometimes speak of children not yet being jaded by the world, how they have not yet learned the ways of the world. And then we have Jesus’ comment about his kingdom and how it operates. Maybe there is even more to Jesus’ comment about children and the entering the kingdom than we thought.

Today we celebrate Christ the King Sunday. It’s the last day of the church year; next Sunday we begin Advent with its yearly time of introspection and preparation for the Christmas celebration. In recent years, many churches have renamed Christ the King Sunday, and are calling it The Reign of Christ. Most of these have done so because of the term ‘king’. Let’s face it, we’ve all lived in a democracy for so long that our understanding of a king is based on stories and movies. That’s one of the reasons. For others, the term ‘king’ is problematic because of other reasons having to do with the unfortunate misuse of power exerted by men in this world. I grew up celebrating Christ the King, it’s the way I think of this day; but, there is something to opening ourselves to thinking of it as The Reign of Christ.

When we focus on Christ the King, we focus on an event, a person. When we focus on the Reign of Christ we focus on a way of existence, an ongoing process of which we are a part, and can play a part. One way, we focus on the person, in the other we focus on the effects of his reign. A reign, a way of ruling, a kingdom that Jesus said is not of this world; that does not function the way the world thinks things should be. The world has lots to tell us about how we are supposed to treat a king. How we are supposed to quiver in fear at their feet. How we are supposed to avert our eyes not look at them, lest they become angry.

Jesus said to his disciples, “follow me”, not obey me, not worship me, not submit to me. To follow someone is dramatically different than those things. So often in the church we worship the Christ, rather than following Jesus. Jesus said his kingdom is not from this world, not of this world. The people Jesus was speaking to understood kingdom, understood empire in terms of the Roman Empire. The way Rome did things was the way they understood empire. Jesus said that his way was different. Power was not about how many legions of soldiers you had, or the number of people who cowered in fear and submission. Power was found in service and servanthood.

In Jesus’ kingdom, in his empire, the poor were not put aside as riff-raff, as those that you walked past on the street. The poor were seen as fellow people on the journey, as opportunities to prove that Jesus’ kingdom was truly present in word and deed. In Jesus’ kingdom children were embraced and welcomed as the gifts they were. In Jesus’ kingdom, the stranger and foreigner was welcomed as friends we have not yet met. The sick were cared for. The sinner was not shunned but welcomed into a community of love. In Jesus’ kingdom our belonging, our membership, our citizenship isn’t so much based on our declaration of, “Jesus is Lord”, as much as it is in following.

In the first century, declaring someone as Lord was dangerous. Caesar was, according to Roman Law, the only person to have the title of Lord. To declare someone else as Lord was to break the law, was to invite the punishment of the Roman Empire down upon your head, was to declare that you were part of something other than Rome; and in an Empire that sought for uniformity and obedience, it was a crime punishable by death if one did not recant. Nowadays, things have changed greatly. In this country, we can freely say Jesus is Lord without truly thinking about it. We can stand on the street corner and announce Jesus is Lord to passersby; we can go door to door in our neighborhoods telling people that Jesus is Lord and get little more than a chuckle or a door slammed in our face. The police would most likely not be called; you probably wouldn’t end up in prison. You may even be admired by many and get an article in the paper praising you for your great faith. Certainly you wouldn’t face crucifixion.

Things have changed. So the question we must ask is if Jesus’ kingdom is still not of this world? Something’s definitely different. Is it the world? Or is it the way we have allowed the world to infect the kingdom? Without a doubt there are some ways in which the kingdom has impacted our world. We speak more openly about freedom and equality. We speak more openly about the ways we are called to support one another, and care for one another. But, have we lost our edge? Is the church still a voice that declares that there is a different way of doing things? How different is the way of the world from the way things are within the church? There was a time when to declare oneself as Christian was to set yourself against the world, to place yourself in the minority. When was the last time the church was the voice that rang out against the world?

I just finished reading The Underground Church by Robin Meyers. I whole heartedly recommend it; I am sure it will open your eyes and challenge you as it did me. In the book Rev. Meyers speaks about the church’s need to reclaim its voice of opposition to the world. This rebirth of the church is what he calls the Underground Church. I want to close with a reading from the close of one of his chapters. When he speaks of radical, think in terms of not according to the ways of the world.

“In the Underground Church, not every action needs to be newsworthy to be radical. Visiting a nursing home is one of the most countercultural things a human being can do. All it takes is mindful noncompliance with the forces of death and division. All it takes is a refusal to accept the status quo when the status quo is immoral. If our good news is not bad news to those who steal the future, then what right do we have to sing our hymns about the “sweet by and by”? We should not make promises about things that we refuse to help deliver.

Gandhi once provided a list of seven social sins, which ought to animate the Underground Church, uniting both liberals and conservatives around principles worth fighting for. He said we must resist politics without principle, wealth without work, commerce without morality, pleasure without conscience, education without character, science without humanity, and worship without sacrifice.

Instead of offering up more tired arguments about theological and doctrinal “purity,” let us claim a future that we are simultaneously involved in creating. Christian eschatology is not escapism, not fear mongering, not the anticipation of the ultimate cosmic revenge. It is, as the great New Testament scholar and poet Amos Niven Wilder points out, the basis for Christian ethics. We behave justly in anticipation of a just future.

What could be more radical than that?” (The Underground Church, by Robin Meyers, p. 218)  Can we challenge ourselves to live our lives in the world, not seeking to escape from it, but instead seeking to live according to a different way? We are all in the world; but are we of it? Maybe we’ve learned the rules of the world a little too well. Lord, may thy kingdom come. Amen.