When forgiveness gets down deep inside to that place we’d rather hold on to, that place where we hide our failures, that place we push down our insecurities; when forgiveness gets that deep inside – that is the moment when Jesus Christ lifts us up to healing and wholeness.

4/10/2016

John 21:15-19

15 When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?’ He said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my lambs.’ 16A second time he said to him, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ He said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Tend my sheep.’17He said to him the third time, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, ‘Do you love me?’ And he said to him, ‘Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my sheep. 18Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.’ 19(He said this to indicate the kind of death by which he would glorify God.) After this he said to him, ‘Follow me.’

I suspect it’s easy for most mainline Christians in America today to name one of the most essential parts of what Jesus did on Easter Sunday. Jesus Christ forgives my sin. I am forgiven, alleluia! That’s not something to hard to rattle off and that is something I suspect most people with any knowledge of the church at all might name as the point of Christianity.

What is sin? That’s a harder question. What does forgiveness do? Maybe I could say it gets me to heaven, maybe it sets me free…but what I’m free from and for is a harder question; what heaven means for me here and now is not self evident. Who is the I that is forgiven? It would take days for me to even scratch the surface of who I think I am and there’s no telling what all Sallie could name that I might miss.

And in the face of the uncertainty and the ambiguity of definitions, it’s easy to retreat back to that simple foundational truth of our faith – Jesus Christ forgives my sin. Period. End of story. And in a sense it is the end of the story, in those five words is the essence of the faith. There’s a reason so many people might name that fact as the essential part of what Jesus did on Easter Sunday. It’s not wrong; but there is so much more depth and meaning to the abundant life Christ is and makes possible if we are willing to drill a little deeper and ask the harder questions. Not just what is sin, but how have I sinned? Not just what does forgiveness do, but how does forgiveness change me? Not just who am I, but what is my place in the body of Christ?

To ask these questions is to begin to probe the mysteries of God and of salvation. These questions require a certain amount of self awareness and submission. Being self aware isn’t easy because it forces us to consider those parts of us we’d rather deny; the parts we’d rather not be there and would do just about anything to get rid of or at least not have to deal with. For me, one of those parts is the voice that says you’re not good enough. I sometimes start strong! I’m a pastor. I can start to spin the drain thinking I just made a mistake. That mistake hurt someone’s feelings. I’m stupid for doing it. I should be better than that. I’m a pastor. And it gets worse. I’m a screw up. I better keep it all inside. I don’t see why anyone would want to hear from me, I’ll probably just make the same mistake again. I’m a pastor… That voice can be so defeating when I think about it that I’d rather just deny it’s there. But denial only lets the voice grow stronger under the strong person becomes the weak person becomes the sad and dejected mess. Self awareness is hard.

Submission is no easier for me. Submission is a four letter word when I’m having a bad day and I’ll bet it is for some of you too. You are free to be anything you want to be – we are told early and often by our culture. Whatever is holding you back from being free is a problem to be overcome. Don’t submit to anything, we are told. Pull yourself up and you can get through anything, you can become anything you want to be. Submission can be treated like that thing that happens when I am defeated and I fail to reach my potential and I just give up and let go of control and get defined by someone or something in my life.

Self-awareness and submission are difficult to embrace and difficult to sit with. Both require us to let God in and to give up control of what happens next. As appealing as it might be to think that I can decide who I’m going to become and simply take control and make that happen, so much more is possible when we encounter the love and the life that God desires for us. The kind of love that makes possible a new kind of life is shown to us through the story of Jesus and Peter by the fire in John’s gospel. Peter takes a moment to sit with the Lord and through the Lord’s embrace Peter is restored to a life he never could have created for himself.

Our reading from John’s gospel comes to us from the very end of the book. The life and Ministry of Jesus has already happened. Good Friday has come with all its confusion and chaos and hurt and brokenness that led Jesus to the cross. The tomb was closed for 3 days. And on that first Easter morning the women had found the empty tomb and went and told Peter of the good news. Here we find Jesus sitting with the disciples around a fire by the lake just a few days later. And after breakfast, Jesus turned to his disciple named Peter and began to question him.

“do you love me more than these?’” Jesus asked him. He said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my lambs.’ ok, so far. Jesus asking Peter to affirm his love, no big deal. And then a second time Jesus asked, do you love me?’ He said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Tend my sheep.’ I don’t know if Jesus wasn’t listening the first time. It’s a little weird since I’m sure Jesus knows the exact depth of Peter’s love, so it’s odd that he’s asked again. But he’s Jesus, whatever. He gets to ask what he wants. But then it happens a third time. “do you love me?” Jesus asked. Peter felt hurt this time. And he said to Jesus. ‘Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my sheep.”

It is strange that Jesus would ask Peter 3 times. It feels almost cruel to keep pressing deeper and deeper and deeper. But to understand this moment between Jesus and Peter we have to go back to another campfire just a few days before. Peter, The Rock upon which Jesus said he would build his church, was standing around a fire at the same moment Jesus was being put on trial and questioned leading up to the crucifixion. Jesus had told Peter he would deny Jesus three times. Peter was adamant that he would not. He would go to the cross with Jesus if he had to, he would never deny his friend and his Lord.

But standing around that fire a young woman asked him, aren’t you one of his disciples. And Peter said no I do not know the man. And a short time later he was asked again aren’t you one of Jesus’ disciples? And again Peter said I do not know the man. That’s not me. You must be thinking of someone else. And a third time he was confronted. He was asked are you not one of Jesus’ disciples? Peter knew the consequences of saying yes, he knew the fear inside of him holding him back. And so again a third time he denied it. He said I do not know that man. And as Peter said this the rooster crowed. What Jesus told him had to come true. He had denied his Lord and his friend three times.

And so we move back forward in our story, back to the disciples sitting around a fire after the resurrection. Jesus questioned Peter 3 times. Do you love me? Do you love me? Do you love me? Each time Peter felt the question go deeper and deeper and deeper inside of him. Lord, you know I love you! Feed my lambs. Lord, you know I love you! Tend my sheep. Lord, you know I love you! 

In this moment Jesus guides Peter to experience his forgiveness. When forgiveness gets down deep inside to that place we’d rather hold on to, that place where we hide our failures, that place we push down our insecurities; when forgiveness gets that deep inside – that is the moment when Jesus Christ lifts us up to healing and wholeness. Jesus was offering the chance to be restored. Forgiveness is not complete in the words we say. Forgiveness isn’t finished when you accept my apology. The forgiveness of Jesus restores Peter back to relationship. Forgiveness overcomes the betrayal and the broken promises Peter made. Around this campfire, all that Peter had done wrong as he stood by a fire just a few nights before, it all was washed clean by the forgiveness of Jesus.

In this story of deep forgiveness and restoration I invite you to look deeply into yourself. The good news, is that through the grace of God we are offered the same chance to be forgiven as Peter. What is it that sits deep within you, what is it that you want to hide from me and from God? What is it that you hold so tightly inside that you just can’t let go? Jesus tells us to look deeply inside of ourselves and see that, that is the person I love. Jesus says submit your life to me and follow where I lead. It is you that I love, imperfections and all!

[Closing meditation]

You are a beloved child of God, wonderfully made, relentlessly pursued. You are restored by the grace and love of our Lord.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, you are forgiven. Amen!

As followers of God, we can never settle for a world of the haves and the have nots. There is too great a chasm between the two, too great a separation to be left alone. That’s not a call for you to give all you have to someone else, but a challenge for you to live all you can with someone else – with someone who doesn’t look and act and think like you – someone who needs the gifts you have to offer; and someone whose gifts you didn’t even know you needed to receive.

If we do not work to overcome the divides; if we do not encounter the love of God that heals our wounds and overcomes our brokenness – then we might as well be the rich man eating sumptuously every day. And if we do not commit to being good stewards of the many blessings God has given us, we cannot hope to transform the world.

9/25/2016

Luke 16:19-31

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

Luke provides some of the most powerful and fascinating imagery in all of scripture. Never one to mince words, Luke directly and concretely challenges us to recognize the practical nature of discipleship. Following God is in no way relegated to some spiritual, ethereal, other realm for Luke. I’d argue that we dramatically over spiritualize most of scripture, but Luke leaves no room for that at all. Matthew records Jesus saying blessed are the poor in spirit – Luke records blessed are the poor. There are 11 parables told by Jesus that are unique to Luke – at least 9 of them are directly about our relationship to money in the here and now – and all 11 have very concrete implications for how we relate to God’s children – whether through service, or second chances, or compassion.

Today’s reading is one of those parables unique to Luke’s gospel. And it leaves an unforgettable impression about the urgency and importance of God’s call toward practical, concrete, and present focused discipleship. I have to take you back through the imagery of the passage here, because it is meant to push you and challenge you and deeply motivate you.

[Rereading the passage with a focus on the details]

Yikes. That is not a message to be taken lightly. The consequences and the dangers of failing to heed the warning of Jesus in this parable are as severe as they come. This is one of those few passages in Scripture in which the imagery of Hades as a place of torment and fire actually has legs. Almost all of that imagery that we find so popular today actually comes from later writings, like those of Dante. But here we are confronted by the possibility of severe torment if we do not change the way we live. Do good in life, care for those who need it, embrace the practical, concrete, specific call to live a life of discipleship in the here and now. Do not dare live like the rich man, the message goes, or your fate may be like his.

……………………

Welcome to our 2016 stewardship campaign. 🙂 I know what you’re thinking, bear with me a minute. Stewardship is that time of the year when we renew our commitment to God and one another. Church is the place wherein we work to fulfill our part of God’s mission and we cannot possibly do so without making a commitment each year to various types of ministry and service. Our mission here in this congregation is Encounter Love. Grow Together. Inspire Change. So each of the next three weeks, we’ll be focusing on one aspect of our mission before tying it all together and making our commitment on October 16th. Today’s focus is on the first part of the mission – Encounter Love.

I have to imagine that many of you are wondering what on Earth the fire-and-brimstone imagery of our Parable from Luke has to do with encountering God’s love. That’s a fair question to ask. It comes to mind so readily because of how easy it is for the overly emotional, powerful, dramatic, scary imagery to actually mask what the underlying call to action looks like in practice. If your focus remains on avoiding torment and if you think that simply shouting out warnings about the dangers of Hades will change the world, then you’ve missed the point.

Warnings and consequences are most of what Moses and the prophets had to offer. If the world hasn’t changed yet, it’s not going to do so just because you take it up a notch and add in the imagery of a rich man in flames. I love the way the parable ends. The rich man wants his brothers to change their ways – but Abraham says, if Moses and the prophets haven’t work, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead. It’s like Jesus and Luke know something that the listeners and readers need to know – someone will rise from the dead. That someone will change everything by ushering in the new life God promised through Moses and the prophets. That someone will have quite literally raised a man named Lazarus from the dead not long after telling this very parable. But none of that will convince the stubborn.

We could stop here and just leave it a hopeless mess. I guess we better hope for bad things in life so that the after life will bring joy. Luke does say blessed are the poor and blessed are the hungry and those who weep. Let’s get that out of the way now. But at least two details should remind us that hopelessness about the present is not the point of the story; one detail from the story and one detail about the story teller. Jesus, the storyteller, was never one to shy away from people on any side of a spectrum. Zacchaeus was a tax collector, one of the more wealthy and more despised people of his day – Jesus called him out of the Sycamore tree and said I’m going to share a meal with you today. On the far other end of the spectrum, countless sick and poor and destitute people found a generous friend through the presence and the healing touch of Jesus.

To think that this life is supposed to be awful requires that we ignore Jesus’ desire to be in relationship with people on all sides of life and to empower them to live abundantly. It’s the same reality that was at play in our scripture about the table a few weeks ago – Jesus says the one who is seated at the lowest end of the table will be exalted to sit in the place of honor. And we sometimes take that as a call to brag about being the most humble person ever. Jesus is not giving a formula – for every bad thing now you get one good thing later and vice versa. No, Jesus desires that we find abundance when all God’s children are seated at the table together, no one more valuable and comforted, no one more disposable and broken – than the rest.

And one detail regarding the story itself – it is odd that in Jesus’ parable, the poor man is given a name and not the rich man. How many stories can you come up with, in the bible or in the news, in which it is the poor and powerless character that is named? The disciples are seated around a table – and an unknown woman comes and washes Jesus’ feet. Pontius Pilate holds the power to take Jesus’ life – and Pilate’s wife without a name is afraid of what might happen next. The headline reads “such and such multimillionaire CEO defrauds a bunch of unwitting and unnamed people.” In this scandal with an athlete or a politician, there’s also some nameless victim out there.

There are, of course, good reasons to hide the names of the poor and powerless in many situations. But in doing so we run the risk of dehumanizing and silencing the very people who may never have the opportunity to be heard. We like to think we know all there is to know about the big name – and we can then mourn the loss of potential or chalk it up to a mistake in judgement. All the while, the person most affected, the person whose life may be upside down forever, is treated like a number in the stats, or even worse, treated like the downfall of a hero. That’s why it strikes me as deeply significant that the poor and the powerless man, not the rich and the powerful man, is the one given a name by Jesus in the parable. The poor guy isn’t some throwaway figure just used to make a point – he is humanized and valued and made into the more unforgettable character in the story. That’s why the parable is referred to as Lazarus….and….some rich guy. The poor in this life is lifted up, even as the rich in this life is brought down a notch.

Jesus never shied away from people on either side of life and his parable powerfully lifts up the poor as the rich is brought low. The point of the parable is not to make you see the risk of being happy in this life and therefore try to delay any joy for the next one. The point is to recognize the giant chasms that exist between us in so many different aspects of life and to experience the urgent call to end them. The chasm between Lazarus and the rich man in the afterlife is no more real or wide than the chasm that existed on earth; no more real or wide than the chasms that exist between us now. Economic lines. Racial lines. North against South. Conservative against Liberal. The wrong side of town. The wrong ethnicity or nationality or family of origin. I could go on for hours naming all the divisions we see so present in our world – and not a single one of those chasms is desired by God. One body, one people, one kingdom – that is the vision God has for God’s creation.

As followers of God, we can never settle for a world of the haves and the have nots. There is too great a chasm between the two, too great a separation to be left alone. That’s not a call for you to give all you have to someone else, but a challenge for you to live all you can with someone else – with someone who doesn’t look and act and think like you – someone who needs the gifts you have to offer; and someone whose gifts you didn’t even know you needed to receive.

If we do not work to overcome the divides; if we do not encounter the love of God that heals our wounds and overcomes our brokenness – then we might as well be the rich man eating sumptuously every day. And if we do not commit to being good stewards of the many blessings God has given us, we cannot hope to transform the world.

If you are a part of this church family, that means God’s love has started the process of transformation in your life. If you are not a part of this church family yet, it is my hope and prayer that you would encounter God’s love in our midst. That’s why we are focusing this week on our commitment toward the first portion of our mission. I am asking you to make two, simple, practical commitments this year. Attend worship when you are in town and able, and also pray for the people of this church this city and all God’s creation. You’ll also have the chance to share any new commitment that you’d like to make, but that doesn’t fit neatly in a check box.

I’m asking you to make these commitments so that this would be a place in which all God’s Children are invited and embraced to encounter the love of God for themselves. You’ll notice in each area of commitment this year, but especially in this first week, there is a shift in the focus of our commitments. I’m not asking you to make these commitments for the sake of your own spiritual life and health – I’m asking you to make them for the sake of the person sitting beside you and especially for the sake of the person who may never step foot in this building, but so desperately needs to know the love of God. Encounter Love in our life together – be the place in which all God’s children encounter that life changing, bridge building, love that leads to abundant life. There is no chasm too wide. No division too deep. We are one in the love and grace of God.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

God has always chosen and used broken and imperfect people to build the kingdom of God. There never was and never will be a perfect group of spotless Christian people. But every time we gather, we remember that God has always invited us to be the hands and feet of Christ. God has always empowered us to be salt and light. God has always chosen us to be the vehicle through which God will love and transform the whole world.

2/12/17

1 Corinthians 3:1-9
3And so, brothers and sisters, I could not speak to you as spiritual people, but rather as people of the flesh, as infants in Christ. 2I fed you with milk, not solid food, for you were not ready for solid food. Even now you are still not ready, 3for you are still of the flesh. For as long as there is jealousy and quarreling among you, are you not of the flesh, and behaving according to human inclinations? 4For when one says, “I belong to Paul,” and another, “I belong to Apollos,” are you not merely human?
5What then is Apollos? What is Paul? Servants through whom you came to believe, as the Lord assigned to each. 6I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. 7So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth. 8The one who plants and the one who waters have a common purpose, and each will receive wages according to the labor of each. 9For we are God’s servants, working together; you are God’s field, God’s building.

Paul can be kind of a condescending jerk. I know you’re not really supposed to talk bad about high, holy, church leaders like Paul, but it’s true – he can be a condescending jerk sometimes.  “And so, brothers and sisters, I could not speak to you as spiritual people, but rather as people of the flesh, as infants in Christ.” Paul, the great leader of the faith and the planter of many churches, writes this in his first letter to the Corinthian church. “I fed you with milk, not solid food, for you were not ready for solid food. Even now you are still not ready, for you are still of the flesh.”

The nerve of that guy! I know it’s probably easy to hear Paul’s words in a more hopeful sense, “don’t worry, you’re young. You’ll get there, keep going and growing!” That treatment of Paul’s tone comes from the same place that leads us to assume the most angelic dispositions of everyone in scripture. But it’s also quite wrong. Paul is no better or worse than us, just like every other leader and author and writer but Jesus. And Paul comes off like he’s talking to a bunch of little petulant children who can do nothing right. It’s hard to read the whole letter and not see some condescension from Paul come through here.

3 years ago I preached for about 6 weeks in a row on this letter to the Corinthian church and the title of that series of messages was Being Church – it was like a 101 course for how to be church well. And what you find any time you study that much of this book is that a better title for the way Paul actually talks would be “Y’all are terrible at this game.” To preach about 1st Corinthians as a church 101 manual requires us to learn almost exclusively from their mistakes. The letter reads much more like a point by point checklist of what they got wrong; then Paul offers various kinds of correction and encouragement to do it better. Leadership, the Lord’s Supper, Spiritual Gifts, marriage, lawsuits, care for the widows, diet and idols, authority, resurrection – all of it was handled poorly in the Corinthian church. And Paul didn’t hold back in telling them so.

You were infants when I brought the faith initially. You are infants still. I fed you milk. I gave it to you the easy way. And still you didn’t get it. You’re still infants now, you’re still not ready. Paul sure knows how to be a buzzkill. It’s a good thing we’ve solved all those problems they were facing back then………

That was sarcasm, if you didn’t catch it. It’s actually a little depressing to read on and see the specific thing that Paul is calling out at this point. He continues – “For as long as there is jealousy and quarreling among you.” “are you not of the flesh, and behaving according to human inclinations? For when one says, “I belong to Paul,” and another, “I belong to Apollos,” are you not merely human?” Division over leaders – some in Corinth choosing Paul who started the church. Others choosing Apollo who stayed behind to keep things going. Factions forming around one personality set up against another. I belong to Paul… I do not belong to Apollos. I belong to Apollos…I do not belong to Paul. Sound familiar to anyone?

I don’t know what you see, but I swear every day it seems to get worse – we seem to retreat further and further into the right or the left and never the two shall meet. It’s not always conservative vs liberal of course, but it is I choose one and NOT the other – it’s rich against poor – rural against urban – Texan against Cowboy…maybe that’s not too bad – here in our town there’s a tension between the long time small town residents and the just moved out here big city transplants – there’s people who want everything to go back to the 1950s glory and some who want to completely wipe away the past. The divisions are there, I know you feel them in at least one arena of your lives. If churches are any better it is usually because they’ve run off those who don’t look and think and act alike.

Why are divisions so deep? That’s clearly the rhetorical question on Paul’s mind as he continues. “What then is Apollos? What is Paul? Servants through whom you came to believe, as the Lord assigned to each. I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth.” That’s a beautiful reminder from Paul. Paul’s job was to come and plant the church, to get things off the ground. Apollos’ job was to stay and nurture and work in Paul’s absence. But God gave the growth. God did the hard part. God did the only part that really matters.

So, Paul concludes this part of the letter, “neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth. The one who plants and the one who waters have a common purpose, and each will receive wages according to the labor of each. For we are God’s servants, working together; you are God’s field, God’s building.” It’s not about the credit or the factions. It’s not about the leaders or the best ideas or the most important stage of church growth. Paul and Apollos – everything they did was about working together to see the growth that God would bring about.

That’s a message much easier said than implemented. The leaders and groups you care most about – they don’t really matter. We’re just in it together, trust God in all things! The sentiment is nice, but I don’t imagine you’ll change the world and end the division just by saying it.

I’m not going to solve the world’s divisions by the end of this sermon, but I do want to offer 1 reason division is so hard to overcome, 1 reason to be full of care  in how you respond when you hear the words of whatever side you don’t agree with, 1 reason it’s OK to admit that we’re still infants in Christ, and 1 reason to stay hopeful in spite of it all.

First, 1 reason division is so hard to overcome. When people say “I believe” what they really mean is “I am.” Modern society doesn’t foster the kind of families and communities that accept and encourage and uplift each other in strength and through weakness. It’s super easy and common to equate the things I choose to believe or the people I choose to follow with my deepest identity. So when someone challenges the things I say I believe, it feels like they’re saying I’m not good enough or I’m not OK. No matter how intellectual or analytical we may think we are, what’s at stake runs a lot deeper when we try to talk across the dividing lines.

Second, 1 reason to be full of care when responding to the other side – no matter which side that may be. The words we say often hide the things we feel. I’ve had to learn this the hard way, but you can figure out a lot if you really pay attention. The best example I can offer of what I mean were words spoken by a clergy colleague a while back. This colleague was a fairly calm introverted guy. He told me that he had felt a deep calling to be a new church start pastor and it was his passion to make it happen. I could see the passion as he spoke. Then he began pontificating on the stats and the probabilities that every new church start pastor would be an energetic extrovert. He said calm introverts are rejected from those positions.

Can you hear what he was saying? My greatest passion in life and ministry is to start a new church. Introverts don’t get to do that. I don’t get to do that. I am being rejected from fulfilling the passion God has laid on my heart. You can hear a lot if you’re willing to actually listen. I want to suggest two particular phrases for you to hear differently, one more for the right and one more for the left – I’ll hopefully get myself in trouble with everyone this way.

Black lives matter has become one of the rallying cries for a variety of protests within African American communities. It’s especially common in response to incidents in which a black person is killed by a police officer, but the roots of racial tensions and protests run a whole lot deeper. I’m sure you’re aware there have also been similar phrases popularized as a response to that movement – blue lives matter expressing support for police; all lives matter expressing that it’s a mistake to focus on any one group. I’m not going to wade too deeply into the waters of whether the initial word choice was the best because I’m the last person who could understand all the dynamics in play.

I’m not going to tell you whether to support any of the response movements, but I am asking you, again, to listen more closely to the words that started it. Black lives matter. You don’t choose those words because you’re a little upset or something bothers you about society these days. Movements like this don’t catch fire unless they touch a deep hurt down inside a lot of people. You only choose those words when you’re ready to say I don’t feel like my life matters to you. I don’t feel like you actually care if I live or die. And if you have no idea why a black person in America today could possibly get to the point of feeling that way, then before you say something in response, talk to someone who knows. Have an actual conversation to hear the experiences and understand the words behind the words.

Most of the time, our rhetoric is a shield so that we can say just enough to hide the depth of the fear or pain or anxiety that really lives down deep inside. On the other side of the aisle, the most catchy polarizing phrase has been “Make America Great Again.” Implicit in the promise is the anxiety that America is not great and is in desperate need of revival. Again, I would say, if you don’t understand why that slogan would catch fire in someone’s heart, you need to hear their story before you can hope to bridge the divide. If we don’t create the spaces where we can know and be known by people on opposite sides of the aisle, then we’ll never really hear what other children of God are trying so hard to say. If we don’t listen first, nothing we say in response will benefit anything.

Third, I offer 1 reason it’s OK to admit that we’re still infants in Christ. I’ve just said that people equate the beliefs and words they profess with who they are. And I’ve argued that some of the more well known movements represent deep hurts and fears and anxieties. The easy response is to say I must be wrong. Life is really not that bad. I didn’t do anything to cause this. Those other people need to get over it and grow up like me. You can deny the seriousness of the brokenness people feel, but to do so is to deny the heart of the gospel message.

While we were sinners, Christ died for us. We say those words in our communion liturgy all the time; but we could just as easily say while we are still infants, Christ died for us. Christ paved the road that we never could. Christ brought healing and wholeness and life itself through His life, death, and resurrection. The point was never for us to be good enough so that we could get through life without God. We are not in control. We are made new only when we submit to the grace of God that goes before us long before we even know God is there.

And finally, 1 reason to stay hopeful in spite of it all.  God has always chosen and used broken and imperfect people to build the kingdom of God. There never was and never will be a perfect group of spotless Christian people. But every time we gather, we remember that God has always invited us to be the hands and feet of Christ. God has always empowered us to be salt and light. God has always chosen us to be the vehicle through which God will love and transform the whole world.

What is milk today is the easy self help, God loves all, kumbaya faith that we sometimes need to hear. Solid food is the radical kind of choice Jesus actually made to risk his life in order to love the unloveable; his choice to tear down so many walls that God’s people had built. Moving to solid food starts with finding our identity in God and in this community of support and encouragement. It spreads when we are willing to listen to our neighbors, to hear their words, and to embrace their stories, no matter how uncomfortable we get. Turning to solid food is possible only by the grace of God and it reminds us that by God’s grace, we are becoming more than we could imagine on our own.

Paul can be a condescending jerk sometimes, but Jesus Christ humbled himself because we weren’t strong enough to do so. As far as anyone could look down on us, Christ lowered himself farther to heal our deepest divisions. None of us is the author of this story, God alone gives the growth. Seek out the solid food, and be willing to change the world.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

In Christ we see that to do justice is not to get what you deserve. To do justice is to give until it hurts and all things are set right. To love kindness is not to let anything and everything go. To love kindness is to value the person above the rule; to aim for the new life that is possible rather than settle for the way things have always been. To walk humbly with your God is not to hide from every confrontation or keep quiet about your faith. To walk humbly is to give up control and stop thinking that any of us could come up with a perfect list of the fundamentals of anything meaningful.

1/29/17

Micah 6.1-8

6Hear what the Lord says: Rise, plead your case before the mountains, and let the hills hear your voice. 2Hear, you mountains, the controversy of the Lord, and you enduring foundations of the earth; for the Lord has a controversy with his people, and he will contend with Israel. 3“O my people, what have I done to you? In what have I wearied you? Answer me! 4For I brought you up from the land of Egypt, and redeemed you from the house of slavery; and I sent before you Moses, Aaron, and Miriam. 5O my people, remember now what King Balak of Moab devised, what Balaam son of Beor answered him, and what happened from Shittim to Gilgal, that you may know the saving acts of the Lord.”

6“With what shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before God on high? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old? 7Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?” 8He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?

The best and worst moment in a college class is on that first day when the professor hands out a syllabus that lists all the important dates and topics for the class. Not always, but quite often, the syllabus tell you every requirement you need to know in order to make your way through the semester. It’s the best moment because as soon as you have the syllabus in hand you know exactly what you need to worry about and how much work will be required to make it through. It’s the worst moment because in that instant, you know exactly what you need to worry about and how much work will be required to make it through.

There was a running joke that wasn’t really all that funny when I got to Duke. It was said that Church history 13 was a rite of passage for Duke Divinity school students – and they weren’t wrong. CH 13 is one of the first semester courses taken by every student in the program and it covers the time of Christ up to the Reformation. And on that first day we got the syllabus; sure enough, we knew exactly what we needed to worry about and how much work would be required. Within the syllabus were the exact prompts and due dates for papers and every question that might be asked on the final. No surprises. No changes. No doubt what was expected. Page after page after page of questions and essays to think through. And I’ve never been more nervous or studied harder for a class than that one.

In college, I had a very different experience with a professor by the name of Dr. Austin. He had a PhD in philosophy and taught several of the basic Philosophy courses at A&M where I got my undergrad degree. There was an online tool at the time where you could go and check out the historical grade distribution for each professor. His was something like 97% A’s. Frankly, I’m not sure what the other 3% could have done to not get an A. Every class had three papers required. And as long as you turned in all three by the time grades were due, I’m not sure he ever gave anything less than an A. I’ve never felt more relaxed or self assured than when I took a class with Dr. Austin.

Subject matter aside, if you had the choice, which kind of class would you take? The mountain of requirements in front of you from day one? Or a guaranteed A as long as you did just about anything? I doubt I need to hear your answer to know what most of you are thinking. Take the A. If you want the challenge with Dr. Austin, you can make yourself study harder, but if you get behind in CH 13 there is no hope.

The choice seems easy in theory; but people don’t actually work that way much of the time. In many ways the tension between these extremes is the same kind of tension we feel in how people ought to live faithfully. On the one side, you have the hard line, legalistic, Pharisee-like sticklers for every rule. The requirements are clear and laid out. Everyone knows. Everyone has to follow. And the mountain of rules and regulations seems and in fact is insurmountable for anyone trying to live up to the vast set of requirements.

On the other side, you have the laid back, take life as it comes, hedonistic anything goes hippies. The requirements are…..love?? Jesus got you. Don’t worry, be happy. It’s about Jesus more than you anyway and when the time comes to get the grade, there’s nothing you can do to separate yourself from the right side of the non existent line. Just submit anything, and forgiveness is yours.

The weird thing we find is that there are just as many if not more people who choose the more restrictive option. Fundamentalism is the name we give to the more extreme examples of the mentality. There are varieties of fundamentalism out there – the more obvious tend to come from religious traditions like evangelicalism. That form of religion makes a list, sometimes so explicit you can even find it in bullet points on a church website – these are the fundamentals we believe, and if you disagree you cannot be one of us.

It varies a bit, but in this kind of Christian fundamentalism, you’ll tend to find things like 6 day literal creation as the only valid belief, inerrancy and/or infallibility of scripture, women can’t lead men, Jesus is the only ticket out of eternal conscious torment of hell, probably a concrete statement on human sexuality, and any number of other things might make the list.

I suspect you’re familiar with that kind of fundamentalism, whether or not you agree with it. But there are plenty of other forms out there. Scientific fundamentals are rarely so overtly listed out, but it would include points like – if you can’t prove an idea empirically it’s not worth considering; God is not a valid consideration for any theory; what you believe is irrelevant to what is true; evidence, evidence, evidence! – and the list could go on.

I don’t have the time or energy to express all the dangers of the political fundamentalism we keep seeing in the news. Black or white; with us or against us; America or the world; every talking point is an either or proposition that you love or hate and there is no in between. Healthcare, immigration, sexuality, states vs nation vs globalism, trade, safety, regulation – on and on and on the list could go. Whether you celebrate or fear the movement, you cannot deny that almost every day this nation is becoming more and more entrenched in various kinds of fundamentalism.

It may seem strange, but people love it. Someone is out there adding page after page after page to the syllabus – if you’re with us, you have to believe this and this and this; our kind of people do and support these 3-5000 things. Are you with us or not? And people eat it up – even in spite of ourselves, we love to have that kind of clarity. People would rather accept requirements they hate than wander aimlessly without rules or expectations. It’s not a new problem either.

In the days of Jesus, it was the Pharisees who most clearly represented that sort of fundamentalist thinking. They were a particular party within Judaism that was all about the laws of Moses. The Pharisees named and tried to follow every conceivable law in the Old Testament. The absurd consequences of that desire can be shown in two very brief encounters in the gospel of Matthew. Both involve the concept of work on the Sabbath. If you remember back in Genesis, God created the heavens and the earth in 6 days and rested on the sabbath, the 7th day. Because God rested, the Israelites were commanded to also rest on the Sabbath day.

This was a sacred command to the Pharisees, and they would bring serious charges against any Jew that failed to meet their definition of rest. In one encounter, the disciples were hungry on the Sabbath. But to do so much as pick heads of grain was considered work. So when the disciples chose to eat rather than starve, the Pharisees pointed out their law breaking ways. That same day, Jesus went into the synagogue, their house of worship, and there he healed a man with a shriveled hand – awful! Terrible choice! Also work, also illegal on the Sabbath.

In each case, as in so many others, Jesus pointed out their hypocrisy and absurdity. The law was made to give life; not to take it away. But the choice to value law and order over any and every other consideration had taken the Pharisees completely off course. And yet, the Pharisees would not have made it into scripture were it not for the influence they had over the children of God. The choice to value a concrete, structured list of rules over all else is not a new thing.

Even further back, we find the same appeal of fundamentalism at play in our reading from the prophet Micah. Micah speaks first in the voice of the Lord and then offers the only appropriate response. On behalf of God, Micah complains to the Israelites – what have I done to you! How have I worn you out! All I did was save you from slavery in Egypt. I sent leaders to redeem you. I protected you all along the way. Why are you deserting me!

Micah offers the response – With what shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before God on high? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?” He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?

The whole system of sacrifice and offering was never the point of the law. And yet those black and white rules, the clarity of a system were so enticing that Israel time and again abandoned God in the process of embracing the fundamentals. In Micah, God is calling them out on it. I saved you, why do you go astray? God says. And the response – should I sacrifice again? Should I return to the letter of the law and give up thousands of rams, ten thousands of rivers of oil? NO! That’s the clear implication. God has told you what is good. Not legalistic fundamentally sound sacrifice. The lord requires of you to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God. That’s it.

But to accept that simplicity wasn’t easy back then and it’s no easier now. People still love the challenge and the rules and the clarity of all kinds of fundamentalism. There’s something deeply and inherently human about wanting to define our identity in the terms of a larger community. No matter how self destructive or problematic that community might be, we long to take part in something clear and will overlook a multitude of sins if we get to be on the inside.

The failure of the global Christian church to embody the grace of God doesn’t come from a lack of effort or a rejection of the gospel. The failure comes from our inability to embrace and embody the more compelling story of love and redemption found throughout scripture and fulfilled in Jesus Christ. People don’t latch on to fundamentalism because it answers all their questions and fits perfectly – we latch on when there is not a safe place to be embraced just as we are and transformed into the people God desires that we become.

When the only alternative to a regimented, clear, strict CH 13 kind of life, is a free to be and do anything Dr. Austin kind of life – I can totally understand why someone would choose clarity and purpose over obscurity and aimlessness. But when it comes to a life of faith, these are not the only two choices. In reality, each is it’s own kind of mirror image fundamentalism.

The more compelling, more basic, more transformational story is the life of faith that God makes possible through Jesus Christ. Micah points us toward this reality fulfilled in Christ by sharing these few simple words – He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?

In Christ we see that to do justice is not to get what you deserve. To do justice is to give until it hurts and all things are set right. To love kindness is not to let anything and everything go. To love kindness is to value the person above the rule; to aim for the new life that is possible rather than settle for the way things have always been. To walk humbly with your God is not to hide from every confrontation or keep quiet about your faith. To walk humbly is to give up control and stop thinking that any of us could come up with a perfect list of the fundamentals of anything meaningful.

The new life made possible in Christ is our identity. It is the greater story in which we find our lives and our choices and our future. It is not us against the world, nor is it a refusal to pick sides. The story of Jesus Christ is us for the sake of the world. It is the invitation to take part in God’s mission to make justice, kindness, and humility permeate all creation. That is a story worthy of our lives. That is an identity worthy of the sacrifice; a life ready to make a difference. Do what is required of us. Submit to the love of God, and be ready to change the world.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

In which Joseph writes a not so flattering Yelp review of the inn…

“At it’s heart, the Christian faith is about making room where there is none…

What begins as a story with no room in the inn, ends with a story of room for all who are willing to come and see. Jesus constantly pushed the boundaries to invite others closer to him. He lived his life unafraid to let people in and by doing so empowers us to know and be known…

To be loved with and even through our failures and shortcomings is the most profound kind of love we can hope for. In Christ, we are loved not because of our ability to be perfect, but through our willingness to be vulnerable. We are accepted not because of the value we add to some divine economy, but because we are God’s children.”

Luke 2:1-7 – In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. 3All went to their own towns to be registered. 4Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. 5He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child.6While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. 7And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

I can only imagine the yelp review that would have resulted if Mary and Joseph had given birth to Jesus in this day and age. I can picture the image of them sitting up late that last night, out back in the manger because their reservation got lost and this was the only option. When we read a biblical story, we often put little halos above the heads of the main characters and imagine them as softly spoken and willing to go along and be nice no matter what happens. That’s wrong. The people in scripture are real people – no less angry or annoyed; no more holy than any of us.

[I can only imagine the kind of yelp review Joseph would have given of the manger if Yelp existed at the time…]

It really must have been quite the story and quite the experience for Mary and Joseph. I’ll bet they shared it at every opportunity for years to come. And, if they had any choice in the matter, I’ll bet they never went back to that same inn. But it’s funny how things turn out sometimes. That helpless little child couldn’t even find room enough in the inn. And yet he would grow up to be the one to help us all find room in the family of God. At it’s heart, the Christian faith is about making room where there is none.

Making room is easy when there’s no one else involved. You can live the frontier dream with nothing but grass as far as the eye can see. Making room is much more difficult when it involves letting someone else into our lives. Ask any parent how things change when a younger sibling is born. Life is often a dance between conflicting desires. I want all this space and to keep everyone from invading my elbow room. But, I don’t want so much space that I start to feel isolated and alone. I want to keep a few secrets to myself because everyone would run if they knew the deepest parts of who I am. But I don’t want to be so private that I no longer know and am known by others.

Back and forth we go, wanting to let people in….and keep them out at the same time. Romanticism is probably the easiest coping skill to deal with the conflict. Just assume it’s all good – or at least good enough. It’s especially easy to do in remembering the big events – things used to be perfect – and if the present doesn’t hold up to the standard, we at least have the memory of the good old days. Romanticism is so enticing because the alternative is so terrifying – admitting that things aren’t great means letting people get too close for comfort. If you’re close enough to let me down, you’re not far enough away for me to stay in control. And the easier choice – the choice our culture relentlessly pushes us toward – is to avoid any situation where pain is a possibility.

What we find in the story of Jesus Christ is exactly the opposite. We find in the story of Jesus that God so loved the world that he came close enough to feel the pain of rejection Himself. When we speak of the passion of the Christ, passion is not some romantic notion of strong desire and a burning heart for humanity. The passion of the Christ is the willingness of God to feel our deepest hurts and to know our darkest hour. And rather than wallowing in self pity or getting trapped in despair, what happens next in quite the opposite. When God makes room for us to feel what we feel – when God takes on the struggles of our hearts to know and be known – in that presence and in that space, there is healing.

The first Christmas morning, Christ came down to make room where there was none. In this one chaotic moment, we see Jesus making room for the fullness of all that we are. There was room for the imperfect parents of Jesus. Despite our desire to see them as calmly majestic angels in disguise, they were no better and no worse than two unwed pregnant teens today.

There was room for the local shepherds. They were just a bunch of guys in the field with nothing of value but the clothes on their back. They simply came and saw the little child lying in a manger. Then they went and told the story to anyone who would listen.

There was room for the well to do wise men. These foreigners came to visit Jesus from the East and had nothing in common with him. They simply came and brought their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

Even the livestock and nature found room by his side in that chaotically beautiful moment in the manger; when God came down to make room where there was none.

What begins as a story with no room in the inn, ends with a story of room for all who are willing to come and see. Jesus constantly pushed the boundaries to invite others closer to him. He lived his life unafraid to let people in and by doing so empowers us to know and be known. His life is a reminder that so much more is possible when we don’t settle for the illusion that life is good enough, but we seek to know the fullness of the love and life Jesus Christ makes possible. It’s not that hard to see the beautiful potential of being known and loved just as we are … But it is even easier to know the fear of letting someone too close. Jesus’ desire to love and make room for everyone was so popular and easy and obvious…. that it led him to the cross. I can only imagine what he would have written to his parents on his last night on earth if he’d been given the chance.

[Dear Mom and Dad…]

Of course, we know Jesus never sat down to write that letter to his parents. But His life was just that kind of love letter to us all. To be loved with and even through our failures and shortcomings is the most profound kind of love we can hope for. In Christ, we are loved not because of our ability to be perfect, but through our willingness to be vulnerable. We are accepted not because of the value we add to some divine economy, but because we are God’s children.

No one predicted that a life that began like it did would lead to where it did. The gift of Jesus is not the predictable joy that makes for a great holiday special – it is the hope that love is present no matter how chaotic or stressful or frustrating life becomes. In the midst of that dark night, in the chaos of that manger bed, the light and life of the world was born. Make room in your heart for Jesus Christ this Christmas night. Let Christ come near enough that you know and are known by Him. At the table of grace, Jesus Christ has made room for us all.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

“Until we learn to truly listen, until we care more about how someone else feels than about the letter of the law, until we stop forcing our agendas and start treasuring children of God, the world isn’t going to change.”

Sometimes being seen and heard is all it takes for everything to change. That’s a fundamental conviction I carry with me in all that I say and do as a pastor. We don’t need to put on some idealized or cartoon-ish mask of holiness and perfection. We aren’t called to say the right “church words” or hide behind Christian sounding concepts and ideas. We need to be seen and heard for exactly who we are – and to realize that through Christ we are loved and treasured all the more for it. If we know that kind of embrace, there is nothing we cannot do or face in life. If we never find it, no amount of knowledge or action or fight will stop the ground from shaking beneath our feet.

To be seen and heard does more to empower the life changing work of God’s grace than any tidbit of knowledge or interesting idea or compelling argument ever could. The most pressing and needed work of the church is to create the space in which God’s children from all walks of life are able to come together and experience what it means to be seen and heard. To be treasured is to know the sure foundation of the love of God, AND to offer that love to neighbors near and far.

TRANSCRIPT:

Date Given: 6/18/2017

Exodus 19:2-8

They had journeyed from Rephidim, entered the wilderness of Sinai, and camped in the wilderness; Israel camped there in front of the mountain.3Then Moses went up to God; the Lord called to him from the mountain, saying, “Thus you shall say to the house of Jacob, and tell the Israelites:4You have seen what I did to the Egyptians, and how I bore you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself. 5Now therefore, if you obey my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my treasured possession out of all the peoples. Indeed, the whole earth is mine, 6but you shall be for me a priestly kingdom and a holy nation. These are the words that you shall speak to the Israelites.” 7So Moses came, summoned the elders of the people, and set before them all these words that the Lord had commanded him. 8The people all answered as one: “Everything that the Lord has spoken we will do.” Moses reported the words of the people to the Lord.

“I hope you have a son just like you.” My dad used to say that to me a lot. I’m not sure exactly what he meant, but he only seemed to say it after I did something stupid or stubborn. So, I don’t think he meant it as a compliment. But I would always get a smug smile on my face and respond – “Thanks dad. I hope I have a son just like me too.”

My dad and I have always had a pretty good relationship. I was never the rebellious child, which Sallie would tell you is probably quite the understatement. My personality and sense of humor were quite a bit like my dad growing up. I always thought I was his little mini me – and maybe one day I’ll have a mini me too. More recently I’ve realized that I’m actually more like my mom in quite a lot of ways. The clearest example of that I’ve shared with most of you before – my dad had a heart attack several years back while we were out at my in law’s lake house. You’d think panic would be the order of the day, but my mom and I simply got into the car and drove him quickly, but safely to the nearest town to meet the ambulance. Nice and calm as ever; until the emergency part was over.

I imagine being so much like my mom is actually what has helped my dad and I get along so much over the years. But whatever the reason, I am quite thankful to have the dad that I have. I even lucked out and have a great father in law that I love and respect as well. I don’t know that it would actually be a good thing to have a son just like me, but I absolutely hope that if I have a son, he will feel just as loved and treasured as I do.

I could probably stop right about here in this message on Father’s day and end by simply saying that God loves and treasures us even more than an earthly father ever could. That would probably be a fairly accurate message in its own rite, but it would stop short of the entire point scripture is trying to make when it talks of God as Father, or love, or pretty much anything else.

Today’s scripture reading has us joining with God’s people in the midst of the exodus. God had told Abraham and Sarah to get up and Go, their children would be blessed and become a blessing to all the nations. Abraham and Sarah’s descendants found themselves enslaved in Egypt after a few generations, until finally Moses came and led God’s people out of bondage and toward the promised land. The people have just arrived at Mt. Sinai after leaving egypt, where God gave the law that would give shape to their lives and the promise of what God had in store for God’s people. This is one of those moments when everything changes; a moment that sets up and defines all that is to come.

Our scripture tells us – they had journeyed from Rephidim, entered the wilderness of sinai, and made camp there in the front of the mountain. Moses acted like a spokesperson for God. He went up to the mountain where God called to him and said, “Here is what you are going to tell my people. You’ve seen what I did.” It was with many signs and wonders and deeds of power that God broke the bonds of slavery. Like a powerful and majestic eagle, God carried the people out of Egypt. “If you obey my voice,” God said, “and if keep my commandments and you shall be my treasured possession.” The whole earth is mine anyway, but you will be a priestly kingdom, a holy nation.

Moses told the whole crowd what the Lord had said and of course the people said Amen. “We will do everything the Lord commands.” Now I don’t know how much of the Old Testament you’ve read, but I have to say first that it did not take long for God’s people to go back on that whole promise to do “everything that the Lord has commands.” It was just a couple of chapters later that they were making an idol of the golden calf and I could easily take up the rest of your time with stories of how far short they fell from actually following the commands that God gave to them, whether that be the big 10 or all the rest. Everything did not mean everything for long.

But here’s the really remarkable thing. No matter how conditional God’s statement sounds, God’s people were loved and treasured by God even when they did not meet the conditions. God may have said, if you obey my voice and keep my covenant, then you’ll be treasured; but the many deep failures of God’s people never cut them off from the faithfulness of God. God loved and treasured this people no matter how far they fell or how much they screwed up. They had their ups and downs, but God is faithful even when we are not. God showed us faithfulness once and for all by sending His only Son. Jesus died and rose again because we are God’s treasured possession.

And like I said, we could stop here and have a really nice little Father’s day message. Our heavenly father treasures us, just like he treasured the Israelite people in the wilderness at Sinai. Now let’s all hug one another and sing kumbaya because it’s great to feel loved and treasured. But to stop here would miss the entire point of being blessed beyond measure as God’s treasured people.

Feeling treasured, feeling loved by someone in our lives is perhaps the single most important thing that makes it possible to live and move through life – no matter what happens next. But to stop at the point of feeling treasured far too easily encourages us to turn inward, to focus on me and my needs, to think that love is some kind of zero sum game – if someone else feels loved and treasured that must mean I am loved and treasured less.

That’s not at all the way God’s love works. Focus on self is not at all the point of God calling us a treasured people. To be treasured is to know God’s love that cannot fail and never ends – AND to be that kind of presence to the people in our lives. That’s how God transforms the world. That has been God’s plan all along, starting with Abraham, made explicit through Moses on Mount Sinai, fulfilled and perfected through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. We are the sons and daughters of God. God loves us beyond measure in the hope that all our sons and daughters, all our neighbors near and far will feel just as loved and treasured as we are.

The most challenging part for us is that so many of God’s children do not yet feel as treasured as we each are. Without that solid foundation, without experiencing what it is like to be called a treasured son or daughter; it becomes so much more difficult to love and relate to one another. It becomes so much easier to draw the little boxes in the sand that we so often love to create – we pick sides, we lack trust, we fear difference. I don’t have to tell you how far down that road we’ve gone as a nation in recent months.

Just this week, the police officer who shot and killed Philando Castille in a routine traffic stop was acquitted. The single most tragic aspect to me is that we can’t even seem to mourn together. We can’t find it in our collective heart to deeply lament such a tragedy no matter what we think about laws or race or police or guns or anything else. We all have to pick our sides first, tell our opinion of what mattered and why and how we’ve come to think about it. There’s no space allowed to say Philando’s mother has every right to be mad as hell, even though I understand why the jury made that choice AND even though something has to change so this doesn’t keep happening.

Until we learn to truly listen, until we care more about how someone else feels than about the letter of the law, until we stop forcing our agendas and start treasuring children of God, the world isn’t going to change.

It’s so easy to see difference, to watch someone fail, to expect nothing more and to make all the wrong assumptions. We see good guys and bad – black and white – plain and simple – but that is so rarely if ever the truth of the matter. Inside us all is a little kid – desperate to feel loved, wanting to be treasured by mother and father, in need of that sure foundation. And we almost never give each other the space to express those desires that reside deep within our souls.

I want to read you a couple of poems. These were put together by a group called Iconoclast in Houston. Iconoclast works with low income schools and juvenile detention centers in Houston. They provide the space for kids to express themselves through art. These are 3 poems from 2 of the juvenile detainees.    [POEMS]     

I don’t know the full stories of these 2 youth, but I can tell you I’m amazed by their willingness to get to the place of deep honesty that it takes to write down these words. Underneath all the bravado and any veneer of accomplishment or success or toughness in life, we all come from the same place – wanting to be heard, needing to be embraced – hoping to be treasured and loved. If you have never felt the depth of God’s love, if you’ve never heard that you are God’s treasured son or daughter – it is my deepest hope that you would find God’s open arms waiting for you here.

And if you have felt that kind of love, if you know how treasured you are, it’s time to get to work. God’s love doesn’t stop with us, we are invited to be signs and instruments of God’s love for our neighbors near and far. We are called to look beyond the lines in the sand and the limiting boxes that we so often put people in. We’re called to make space for God’s children to be who they are and to be loved all the more for it.

That’s exactly the opportunity we’re seeking to embrace in our next season of life together. We desire to know that the love we have experienced from God, the love and legacy passed down from our mothers and fathers in this church, that love and legacy from their mothers and fathers in the faith long before that – to know God’s love doesn’t stop with us. God’s love empowers us to walk beyond the walls and go beyond the boxes of the way things have always been.

God called the Israelite people His treasured possession on Mount Sinai – and thus began a whole new way of life for God’s people. We are still God’s treasured possession even now – and thus we begin a whole new chapter in our life together. Now is the season, this is the time – to be sure that the love of God does not, cannot, and will not end with us. It is our hope that all our sons and daughters, all our neighbors near and far, will feel just as loved and treasured as we have been. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

“In the still small voice of the cross of Christ, God declared once and for all that there is nothing we can face in life – nowhere we can go – no fear we can feel, no challenge we can face – where God has not already gone before to bring us back to Him and make abundant life possible.”

1 Kings 19:9-15

This has to be the single most challenging sermon I’ve given – both for how difficult it was for me to get through and also for the sense in which it undermines a lot of popular assumptions about what the Christian faith is and is for. A bit of background you should know before listening to the sermon – last summer we had a variety of really stressful things happen all at once. You’ll hear enough to gather a lot of the details, but what may not be evident is that this sermon came just after our last appointment with an infertility specialist. After trying for a couple of years overall and for several months or so with the specialist, we had just found out our last round of treatments didn’t work. This sermon came in the midst of grappling with what to do next.

Since that time, we’ve decided to adopt and we’ve gained a great deal of peace with that decision; but this sermon came at one of the most chaotic and challenging times of my life. In many ways, it is the most deeply personal way I could articulate an answer to Jesus’ question, “Who do you say that I am?” Between this and the previously posted sermon, “Here is the Lamb of God,” I think I’m finally beginning to articulate an understanding of my own theory of the atonement – one based on vulnerability and relationship far more than debt, victory, substitution, or ransom.