Sunday, November 14, 2010

No Crisis? No Problem!

You’ve probably seen that old favorite Christian bumper sticker slogan: “No Jesus, no peace.  Know Jesus, know peace!”  I recently came up with a new version: “Know crisis, know care.  No crisis, no care.”  

You see, my church is starting a teaching series on distinctively Christian care giving.  And as challenging as it can sometimes be, it’s still relatively straight-forward to care for people who have certain kinds of specific problems.  When someone: loses their job; is in a car crash; gets told they have cancer; loses a loved one; is divorced by their spouse; and things of this nature, they are experiencing acute crises and we KNOW they need help. 

Any Christian community (and even secular groups) will rally to the need for help, raising funds, providing meals, gathering resources, and otherwise rounding up and providing whatever sort of tangible assistance is needed by those in crisis.  “Know crisis, know care.”

More mature Christian communities will also work to provide intangible needs, like a sympathetic ear to listen, spiritual guidance, prayer, worship, and (perhaps most valuable of all) the simple presence of another.  Offering the compassion of Christ to those in need is important to distinctively Christian care.

But there is a dark side to this equation.  While those with overt crises receive care, those without apparent crisis are easily overlooked.  Since crisis-based care is necessarily REACTIVE, it isn’t engaged until some circumstance puts it into gear.  Only in crisis does the care machine start rolling.  Without crisis, care is easily overlooked.  “No crisis, no care.”

There is a better way, though: “No crisis? Know care anyway!” 

As Christians, we have a duty to be part of a small group for our mutual support, for fellowship and learning, for accountability and CARING.  We owe it to our small group to know them well enough to know when they need our care.  We also owe it to our small group (and to ourselves!) to allow ourselves to be known, so they can know when we need their care. 

That’s the best way to experience Christian care whenever it’s needed, and not just at times of crisis.  And wouldn’t we all benefit by frequent and on-going care giving and care receiving in the midst of a group of people we know and love?

But we also need to be alert for people without the relationships to supply this kind of non-crisis care.  There are many people – even WITHIN our Christian communities - who need care but are not in crisis, people living lives of quiet desperation, in dire need of loving attention, invisible to the “care machine” and not part of small group where they might be cared for.

We need to watch for these “outsiders,” these people on the fringe, people who need to be asked or invited into relationship.  We need to continually ask ourselves “Who can I care for today?”
And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you, that person will certainly not lose their reward. Matthew 10:42



Friday, September 17, 2010

Don't Let those Dogs Out!

My dog Lily loves to run! When she tears off at top speed after a ball or a deer, it is beautiful to behold. She runs like a thoroughbred racehorse, body long and extended, and her feet pounding the ground as she runs by sound like small hoof beats.


She also sometimes runs like a creature possessed, with a wide stance, haunches tucked under, and her tail strangely cocked. She is running after nothing, just running because - for some doggie reason I don't understand - she simply must.

When she runs for any reason, she is used up afterward. Her feet drag. She sprawls somewhere to pant and cool for a bit, then curls up on her bed to sleep. One good running session will settle her for the day. And sometimes I take advantage of that fact!


You see, Lily is a very excitable dog. If people come to our house, she gets so overwhelmed with doggie joy that she simply cannot contain herself. The best I can do is shoo her out the door to run it off, encouraging her to take a couple laps around the yard to take the edge off before we try to greet the guests again. Better still, if I know people are coming, I can take her out for a run before they arrive. That way, she is already tired when they arrive, and she more quickly settles, loses interest, and goes to nap in her bed.


I realized a few days ago that I was trying the same strategy with my "inner Pharisee." You know the inner Pharisee - it's that legalistic, judgmental, self-righteous corner of the psyche. It's the part that is always evaluating others by various rules and standards and in such a way that others are always coming up short and itself is always the superior example of doing things right!


The inner Pharisee loves a chance to get out of its kennel and "run" - thinking about all the ways it is superior and others are inferior. It gets excited when it considers an area where it feels especially superior - it can barely contain itself in its desire to think about how wonderful it is!


A circumstance arose where I felt entitled to judge another person by "the rules" - rules I feel rather passionate about! - and I considered the other person to be severely lacking. And I thought to myself that if I indulge my little Pharisee - let her go on and on about all the ways this other person broke the rules - then she'd get tired and shut up for a while. And if she shut up, it would be easier to interact with the person I was judging. I treated that excited little Pharisee like I treat Lily when people come - I let that dog out and encouraged her to run!


I think many of us make this mistake - indulging our self-righteousness (or any bad thought habit) for a while, believing it will "get tired" and subside and be easier to deal with later. And, of course, it feels quite satisfying to watch that dog run - it makes us feel good about ourselves, albeit at the expense of others...


But here's the problem: letting our dogs out to run may quiet and satisfy them for a little while, but over time it just makes them stronger and ever more eager to run. We are, in fact, training and conditioning them to run. Oops! There's the law of unintended consequences in action!


But in Christ there is a better way. St. Paul says to "take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." (2 Corinthians 10:5) Thoughts and ideas have consequences - shut out unrighteous thoughts, don't indulge them for even a moment. For Jesus himself warns us:
"Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." (Matthew 7:1-2)
Don't let those dogs out! Don't encourage them to run! To do so is to be led astray.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Investment Opportunity

My husband and I are taking a personal finance course. The main point of the teaching is that debt is bad. We’re to avoid debt, pay off the debts we have as fast as possible, then going forward, buy only what we have the money for and save up beforehand for large purchases. Because, according to Proverbs 22:7 “The rich rule over the poor, and the borrower is slave to the lender.” And who wants to live as a slave?

It’s a great message and terrifically counter-cultural, because we live in a world driven by debt. Everywhere you turn there are advertisements of one sort or another encouraging you to buy now and pay later. Because by golly, we deserve to have what we want, and we deserve to have and enjoy the things we want RIGHT NOW! Our culture believes that only the naïve and unsophisticated actually save for something before buying or *gasp* pay with hard cash. (are those little green slips of paper even real money?)

And that is the behavior of the masses. That’s what “everybody” does. But that’s not what the truly wealthy people have done. Folks with millions in the bank now didn’t bog themselves down with credit card and other consumer debt in order to play with toys they couldn’t afford. Folks with millions in the bank now started out by living well under their means, and using what they saved to invest and grow their wealth. Only once they become millionaires did they buy the expensive toys, because then they could go buy them and pay with cash in hand.

That’s a great lesson and always applicable in the world of money. But as I was thinking about this idea of debt, and the rule of avoiding debt if you want to gain real wealth, it occurred to me that there is one area in our lives where debt cannot and should not be avoided.

There is one facet of life where we MUST incur debt, but where “everybody” steers clear of it. And that area is the salvation of our souls, because you can NEVER “save up” enough good or righteous behavior to “buy” your salvation. You simply can’t earn it. The same masses – the same “everybody” – who are so eager to whip out the plastic and dig themselves deeper in debt for the latest toy or gadget, are strangely unwilling to take on debt to save their souls.

But why not, why are they unwilling to take on spiritual debt? There is so much good to be had! From the moment you accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior, you are his. You are saved, you are free. You get to enjoy all the benefits of salvation and a personal relationship with God RIGHT NOW! Just like thatnew living room furniture you just charged, you enjoy your new status in the family of God immediately. You don’t have to wait while you save up, because you can never be good enough.

And so many people have it all backwards. They rush into financial debt and become the slaves of their creditors. But they avoid the spiritual debt that would actually set them free! How very confused, and how very sad they are.

Like those who are rich in dollars, the spiritually wealthy people have also gone against the behavior of the masses. The spiritually wealthy have put themselves in debt to Jesus. They’ve acknowledged their inability to be “good enough” or to save themselves. They’ve gotten on their knees and begged mercy and forgiveness, and found themselves crowned with the glories of Heaven.

Trust Jesus: He’s the best investment you can possibly make.

Free yourself from the chains on your neck, O captive Daughter of Zion.
For this is what the LORD says: "You were sold for nothing,
and without money you will be redeemed." (Isaiah 52:2b-3)


Monday, June 14, 2010

Faith Is a Gift

(a sermon for St. Andrew's Episcopal Church, Ada, VA, June 13, 2010)

The Readings for the Third Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 6, Lectionary Year C):
1 Kings 21:1-21a, Psalm 5:1-8, Galatians 2:15-21, Luke 7:15-21

Pondering these readings, I was struck by all the people behaving badly. First we have the story of Ahab and Jezebel conspiring to steal the land of hapless Naboth. Naboth just wanted to keep his family’s land. And when Jezebel saw her husband Ahab all petulant and pouty and depressed at not getting what he wanted, she conspired to have Naboth killed so Ahab could have what he wanted. Talk about people behaving badly!

In the reading from Galatians, Paul is talking about justification coming through faith and not through works of the law. And why did he have to remind the Galatians of this? Just before this passage, Paul tells us that Peter has been refusing to eat with Gentile believers so that Jewish believers won’t take issue with him. Peter has gotten particular about following the eating requirements of Jewish law – with doing “works of the law”. Paul’s discussion of faith and works is inspired by Peter behaving badly towards fellow Christians in order to comply with the law.

And then we come to the Gospel reading. Simon, a Pharisee has invited Jesus into his house for a meal, and even respectfully addresses him as “teacher,” yet he fails to offer him the basic hospitality of the day, and hospitality was a big deal at this time. He fails to provide for Jesus’ feet to be washed, and when a sinful woman steps up to do the job the Pharisee has overlooked, all he can think about is the woman’s sinfulness. His own oversight in hospitality never comes to mind.

Yes, the Bible is filled with stories of people behaving badly, and doesn’t that line up perfectly with our own experience of the world? We live in a world filled with sinners, and the news headlines are always brimming with the latest in crimes and bad deeds, large and small. And this despite the fact that, as our Psalm this morning says, “you are not a God who takes pleasure in wickedness, and evil cannot d well with you.” Thankfully for us all, God is willing to tolerate our wickedness and evil ways for a time, or we would all be in big trouble!

Yes, our world and our readings this morning are filled with “people behaving badly.” But what about the one person in our readings who is explicitly labeled as bad, the “sinful woman”? When we look at the purported sinful woman, we find a very different sort of behavior. The “sinful woman” in the gospel reading provides the personal service to Jesus that has been overlooked by his host. She washes his feet, not with water, but with her own tears. And she dries them not with the towel, but with her hair. And she anoints his feet with expensive perfume, which may well have cost all that she had.

It embarrasses me even thinking about the scene. This woman holds nothing back, spares no dignity for herself. She is unreserved and unabashed in her lavish service to Jesus. Why? Why this extravagant gift of her person and her resources to Jesus?

Jesus later says to her, “your sins are forgiven.” And why is this sinful woman forgiven, when the Pharisee is not? We often give the Pharisees of the Bible a bad rap because most of them oppose Jesus. But they’re not bad people. They very much want to follow God’s rules. They spend their lives studying the law and trying to live it out to the most minuscule detail.

So I’ll say it again: why is the sinful woman forgiven and the Pharisee is not? It’s because of their attitude of heart: the heart of giving versus the heart of getting. The Pharisee is operating out of a “getting” heart. The Pharisee is focused on his own actions. He looks to himself and what he can do in order to earn his salvation from God. The Pharisee follows the law to be right with God, and since the Pharisees were the best law keepers around, they were pretty confident that between them and God things were pretty good. They may have a few small stumbles here and there, but in general there’s not much that God needs to forgive them for. That is the mindset of the Pharisee: intent on “getting” his own salvation from God.

The sinful woman, however, is operating out of a “giving” heart. She knows she’s an outrageous sinner, and that she can never do enough to get right with God. She’s done so many sinful things, it’s too much to think about. There aren’t enough sin offerings in the world for her to get right with God. And so when she hears the Good News, believes in Jesus and finds herself forgiven and made right with God, she is overwhelmed with love for her unexpected Savior and wants to give him all that she can. And this is the mindset of the sinful woman: overwhelmed by God’s grace and intent on “giving” to the one who saved her.

Jesus’ little story of the two debtors, one with a small debt and one with a large debt, perfectly illustrates the difference between the Pharisee and the sinful woman. As Jesus says, “the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.” And that one who loves little is the Pharisee, which reminds me of a book I just read called “The Prodigal God,” by Tim Keller.

Tim Keller takes a close look at the story of the prodigal son. I’m sure you’ve heard of this story. A man has two sons. The younger son demands his inheritance from his father, then goes off and squanders it on high living. When he finally decides to come home, destitute, and prepared to beg for a place as a hired hand, the father welcomes him back with great joy and restores him to the family as the son. The elder brother who stayed at home is offended by both his brother and his father.

Interpretations of this parable usually focus on the loss and restoration of the younger brother, even though Jesus was also telling this story of the prodigal son to an audience of Pharisees, and the Pharisees are likened to the older brother. What Tim Keller points out that both of the sons were lost, and that both of his sons just want what they can get from the father.

The younger son goes the way of outrageous sin to get “stuff” from his father. He demands his inheritance, and blows it. But when he returns, he is forgiven.

The older son goes the way of conformity to get “stuff” from his father. He follows the rules and expects to get his inheritance in due course. Why does he follow the rules? In order to get the inheritance. But unlike his young brother, the older son feels no need of his father’s forgiveness. Instead, he is self righteously angry about his brother’s bad behavior and his father’s generosity with the estate he expect to be his one day. The older son is more lost than the younger, because he doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong…

Keller’s point here, is that we need to repent of the very reasons we ever do anything righteous. If we are righteous in order to get things from God - things like a promised inheritance, a blessing, even salvation itself – then we are lost.

Love is the only motivation of true righteousness. But we humans so easily take the Pharisee’s path of righteousness - righteousness in order to earn salvation. The Pharisee’s way puts us in control. We follow the rules. We think we’re good with God because we’ve done what we think he wants. But the Pharisee’s path makes it very hard to see our sin. We focus on how well we are following the rules instead of how far we are from God. But it’s the very knowledge of how sinful we are that breaks our hearts and changes us – changes why we do thing.

The sinful woman knows her sin and does her works of service out of love for the unmerited salvation she’s been given. The Pharisee does his works of service to earn his own salvation. And there’s a huge difference of heart between those two.

Consider for a moment this bit of scripture from our Galatians passage. “A person is justified (counted as righteous) not by the works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ.” Now let’s add this saying of Jesus from the Gospel of John (6:44): “no one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him.” Take these two together and we get this fact: it’s faith in Jesus Christ that saves us and that faith itself is a gift from God! God grants us faith – we don’t create it in ourselves. The Father draws us.

If God gives us faith as a gift, then the works that we do in response to that faith is our contribution. That's our part. The faith itself is God’s – choosing to respond is ours. A devotional book I’ve been reading put it well, from the perspective of God speaking to us: “You have faith in Me; this is good but faith without works is dead. Faith I can give you as a gift, but the works I can do through you only when your ego moves out of the way. For they are not your works, but My works, just as Jesus said, ‘I must work the works of Him who sent me.’ (John 9:4)” (from “Come Away My Beloved” by Frances J. Roberts)

“Faith without works” is like a two-part epoxy glue that hasn’t been activated. If you go to the hardware store and buy some epoxy, you’ll get a package with two tubes of chemical, tube A and tube B. If you make the mistake of trying to use either tube separately, you’ll find that the glue will never harden. It stays soft and runny and isn’t much of an adhesive. It’s only when the two ingredients are mixed together that the epoxy is activated and can form a strong bond.

God gives faith. God gives opportunities for us to do his works. Unless we accept his gift of faith and use that gift to do the works he’s given us to do, unless we mix tube A and tube B, there is no glue! Either one alone is insufficient, but together they are powerful!

The things we do out of love for Jesus Christ are strong epoxy. The sinful woman has that kind of epoxy. She was given faith, and accepted it. And the intimate and extravagant service she gives Jesus in response is the activated glue, and it is powerful indeed.

The Pharisee will never “stick” – he’s missing faith. He keeps trying to get saved, to get things from God, by his own actions. The Pharisee needs to “let go and let God.” He needs to let go of trying to pay his own debt – whether it’s tiny or huge – and accept and only Jesus can pay it, and in fact has already paid it!

We need to accept the faith we’ve been offered, AND RESPOND TO IT, and stop trying to glue our lives together with ineffective unmixed epoxy. We need to give up our own efforts, and accept the salvation that Jesus has already provided for us, let His love save us – let God save us!

And when we give up our own efforts and let God save us, then we will respond by doing God’s works in the world. Like the sinful woman, we will freely give loving, selfless service to God and others. Instead of working to save ourselves, we will do works that flow out of the sure knowledge of Jesus Christ’s saving love.

Will you pray this prayer with me?

“Father, give me the grace to accept that no matter how hard I try, I cannot save myself. Help me to let go of the ways of heart and mind I use to try to earn my own salvation, and to accept instead the gift of faith you freely offer. Activate that faith with works of love, and show forth your power to change the hearts of your people. And please, Lord, start with me, an outrageous sinner. Amen”

Thursday, May 6, 2010

To Love for the Glory of God

a sermon prepared for St. Andrew 's Episcopal Church, Ada, Virginia, May 2, 2010
5th Sunday of Easter, Lectionary Year C: Acts 11:1-18; Psalm 148; Revelation 21:1-6; John 13:31-35


“Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once.” Glory, glory, glory, there is an awful lot of glory happening here! Some form of the word glorify is used five times in just two short sentences.

But all that glorifying seems just a bit misplaced to me. Think about it: the setting is the Last Supper, and Judas has just left to go betray Jesus. One of Jesus’ closest companions has just left to betray him. And instead of speaking of sorrow or disappointment that one so close should stoop so low, instead of that, Jesus speaks of how he has been glorified. His torture and death lie before him in a few short hours, and instead of recriminations Jesus speaks of glory.

Glory. Really? Now? In the face of betrayal? The disciples don’t yet realize that Judas has left to complete his betrayal, but they do know that one of their number will betray Jesus. They know, because Jesus just told them so in the paragraph of Scripture that comes before our gospel reading this morning. “One of you will betray me….” Jesus tells them, “…It is the one to whom I give this piece of bread.” Jesus knows who will betray him. Yet in the face of betrayal he speaks of glory.

Now, just to make sure we’re all on the same page here, let’s clarify what we’re talking about when we speak of “glory”. It has several shades of meaning that include: praise, honor, and distinction given by common consent; a source of honor, fame, or acclamation; a state of splendor or magnificence; or adoring praise and worship. I don’t know about you, but betrayal by a friend or companion is not generally the sort of thing I think of as a source of glory, a source of honor, a state of magnificence. It seems that Jesus was confused, if betrayal inspires him to speak of glory. But I’ll come back to that again a little later.


Next, from the glory of betrayal, Jesus moves on to instruct his disciples to love one another as he loved them. Jesus loved his disciples but one of them turned on him and betrayed him anyway. And what will Jesus get in exchange for his loving care of his disciples? Betrayal. Desertion. Torture. Persecution, mocking and jeering from the crowds. And all this followed by a hideously painful death on the cross. That sounds like the polar opposite of glory to me.

And yet it is love that Jesus calls us to. To love in the same way that he himself loved us. Love that led to death… Thankfully, we are not called to do anything quite so difficult as what Jesus did. Jesus died for the sins of the entire world for our sake, once for all. Just once. So there is nothing quite that difficult for us to do, because Jesus already did the hardest part. And thankfully, we live in a part of the world where we don’t generally need to risk our lives to share our faith or love our neighbor, although not everyone is so lucky.

But even if we don’t need to risk our lives, loving others is still difficult. And Jesus’ command to us to love one another raises two main questions. Who are we to love? And what does it mean to love? Even the early disciples had trouble answering these questions. And these were people who saw and remembered Jesus death and resurrection, or who heard the gospel from others who had seen Jesus death and resurrection!

Our reading from Acts tells of how the Jewish believers criticized Peter for eating with uncircumcised men, with Gentile believers. You see, there was a conflict in the early Christian church. There was a group of Jewish Christians who believed that Gentiles must become Jews first, and be circumcised and live by Jewish law, in order to follow Jesus. This group still observed the dietary rules of Jewish custom, which made some foods okay to eat, and others not okay or unclean. To eat unclean food, or to eat with unclean people, would make one unclean.

But these Jewish Christians forgot that Jesus himself ate with sinners and tax collectors, people who were unrighteous and most likely unclean. And what were they thinking, when they judged it okay to refuse to eat with others who also claimed to be following Christ? How did that demonstrate loving behavior?

These Jewish Christians sound a lot like Pharisees! They are concerned with following the rules, and not so much concerned with loving their neighbors. In fact, they probably didn’t consider Gentile believers to even be their neighbors.

Even Christians can behave like Pharisees, and the religion of Pharisees is all about “me”. I follow rules so I can be righteous. I do these things so I can get to heaven. Others must follow rules so I can look good. Others follow rules so I can feel good about how I measure up. The religion of the Pharisee is all about what “I” do, not about what Jesus did. The religion of the Pharisee is driven primarily by love of self, not by love of God.

The sort of love that Jesus urges us to, however, is not about ourselves, but about God and about others. Authentic love is all about the beloved, and not at all about self. Just listen to these words about love from the well-known passage in first Corinthians Chapter 13. “Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things.”

Jesus did all these things for the sake of his people. And when you consider his crucifixion and death, he most especially “bore all things”, and “endured all things.” And why? Why did Jesus bear all things and endure all things? Did he do this for his own sake? Was Jesus personally glorified as he was crucified and died? Did he find praise or honor or splendor for himself? No! He was reviled and mocked.

So why? Why did he do it? Jesus endured crucifixion and death for love of God the Father. He endured suffering and death so that the Father would receive glory; so that the Father would receive praise and honor and fame and magnificence.…

Let’s look back at the “glory” passage at the beginning of our gospel again. “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once.” Do you see that Jesus is glorified because God is glorified? And look how God glorifies Jesus because Jesus first glorifies God. It sounds a bit confusing, but the bottom line is this: there would be no glory for Jesus if God were not also glorified.

Think about it: there is nothing inherently glorious about suffering and dying. There is nothing inherently glorious about being wrongly accused. Praise, and honor, and distinction – glory – only accrue when things are done for love of God. Actions are glorious and worthy of praise only when done with a heart for the beloved.

And with that in mind, let’s remember Jesus instruction: “just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.” So how does Jesus love us? Jesus loves us because he loves the Father. If we are to love like Jesus, then we also must love others because we love the Father.

As soon as I do something for my own reasons and not for love of God, then that action no longer glorifies God. If I do something for my reasons, then I do that thing to glorify me, to bring praise, honor, and distinction to myself. And what I do for my glory does not glorify God - even if it happens to benefit others in the process.

For example, how many politicians have we seen who say they are promoting this cause or that legislation for the sake of others, but who really just seek their own advancement? And how many church leaders work in their churches for the sake of self-glorification rather than God’s glorification? How many businesses do good works merely to improve their image… and their market share?

And closer to home, how many of us help the poor and needy only because of the opinion of others - only so that others will think well of us? How many of our “good works” are actually motivated by love of God, and not by self-interest, or self-righteousness, or rule-bound Pharisaical Christianity? That is a question that we should each ponder in our hearts: what are we doing for our own sakes, and what are we doing for no other reason than that we love God? Would our answers show us to be loving the way Jesus loves?

And that thought will bring us back to the question I left dangling earlier – that Jesus seems confused, if personal betrayal by Judas inspires him to speak of glory. Betrayal and glory are clearly not related, right? Well, in this case, WRONG! In this case, betrayal leads to glory, because Jesus is submitting to betrayal out of love for the Father. And his submission to suffering and death – even death on a cross – is the means of saving us all. Jesus selfless act that saves us, brings glory to the Father because it was done for the Father’s sake. And that is how Jesus loves… and how we also are to love.

God reaches out to us in love, so that we, in turn, can reach out to others in love.

And to God be the Glory!

Monday, March 29, 2010

Pride and Predators

(a sermon prepared for St. Andrew 's Episcopal Church, Ada, VA, March 28, 2010)
Lectionary Year C, Palm – Passion Sunday: Palms:
Luke 19:28-40; Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29; Passion: Isaiah 50:4-9a; Psalm 31:9-16; Philippians 2:5-11; Luke 23:1-49

The premise: “Pride turns People into Predators.” It’s a catchy little phrase, but what does it mean? And how does this relate to our readings? Let’s start by considering the people part.

“People” means simply human beings: creatures created in the image of God, with the ability to think and feel and act; beings with the free will to choose their actions, and minds able to consider the consequences of those acts; men and women with imagination to create new things from the materials and ideas around them; individuals, yet made to live in community and relationship with others; people created live in love with one another and with God.

As people, we are the crowning glory, the final flourish, the finishing touch of God’s creation! Wow – what potential we have as people of God, created in God’s image!

Ah, but too often we behave more like predators than the people we were created to be. The definition of “Predator” is “an animal that naturally preys on others.” So first and foremost, a predator is an animal, and animals survive by following their instincts of self-preservation.

A carnivore doesn’t stop to think about whether or not it’s right to kill and eat another creature. If you find yourself facing a hungry lioness, you’d better have a side of beef handy to feed that big cat, or she’s going to kill and eat you without a second thought. The lioness will have no regrets, no second guessing her actions, wringing her lion paws and wondering “if I’d waited a bit longer perhaps something else would have come along to eat so I wouldn’t’ve had to kill that nice lady…”

Animals don’t think like that. Animals don’t think and reason, they don’t distinguish between good and evil. They have no morals. All they know is what they’re programmed to do to survive. If they’re hungry, they kill to eat, and if they’re threatened, they attack to survive. They prey upon other animals naturally – it’s their basic inclination, they were created to behave that way.

Now, you may be thinking “well, sure, a wild animal will behave like that. But I KNOW my dog loves me, and would never try to eat me even if he were starving.”

Your dog may be your devoted companion, but your dog is in it for the kibble! Dogs are social creatures. On their own in the wild, they live in packs and hunt in packs. Their hunting is most successful when the best hunter is the leader. The whole pack prospers by following the lead of the strongest dog, the wiliest hunter. The pack members behave in ways that make the top dog like them, because if the top dog takes a disliking to you and drives you out of the pack, you’ll have a hard time surviving on your own.

Its instinct to seek acceptance from the pack leader - that’s ultimately what inspires the apparent devotion of your pet dog. Fido’s behavior may feel like love, but Fido’s devotion is as much about self-preservation and instinct as the hunting behavior of a hungry lioness.

So, what does it look like when people start behaving like predators, like animals, following survival instincts? Well, our two gospels stories, the Palms and the Passion, show us two different ways this animal behavior can look.

In the Passion story, we see Jesus attacked by the chief priests and scribes, the elders and leaders of the Jews in Jerusalem. They arrest him, accuse him, beat him, take him to the Roman authorities and demand his death because they’re threatened by his teachings. Theirs is an unthinking, animal-like response to the threat of Jesus. There is no love or humanity in it. Teeth bared and claws slashing, they lash out against the perceived threat like a cornered lion.

In the Palm story, the animal behavior is more subtle. The people aren’t attacking Jesus, they’re welcoming him and cheering his arrival. Ah, but why? Look at the motives of a typical man in the street and we’ll see the animal-like behavior.

You see, the Jewish people have been awaiting a Messiah, a powerful king to restore Israel to the glory of former days under King David and King Solomon. Crowds have been following Jesus, watching him perform deeds of power: healing the blind and lame, feeding multitudes. And now he’s entering Jerusalem. What the people see is a new King arriving.

They see a new and powerful “top-dog” stepping up into leadership. This new “pack-leader” will increase their status, create better conditions for the Jewish people and make them successful in all they do. The people are looking out for themselves as they cheer the Messiah and welcome him with palms, paving his way with their garments. They seek his favor much as your dog does. They’re securing their place with the new pack leader. There’s no love in it.

And as soon as it’s clear he’s not the sort of powerful King they were expecting, not a new top-dog, they turn and follow the Jewish leaders in attacking Jesus and demanding his death. The crowds turn their loyalty to another top-dog (the Jewish leadership) that seems more likely to help them survive.

So far we have people and we’ve seen how they can act like predators, like animals. Now let’s look at how pride fits into the picture.

First of all, let’s clarify what pride is. Pride is that deep pleasure or satisfaction you get from achievements: things you’ve achieved yourself or things achieved by your family, clan, team – by some group that you feel close ties to. Pride can also come from having “something” that others admire, like money or power, beauty, wisdom, status (or the latest electronic gadget).

To have pride, first you’ve got to place a high value on “something”, and then having or possessing that special “something” inspires the pleasure and satisfaction of Pride. Pride comes through doing or possessing. It’s about having prestige in your own eyes or in the eyes of others, or both.

The Jewish people were proud of their special status as the chosen people of God. It gave them pride that even though they were under the thumb of Rome right now, their God was going to vindicate them by sending a Messiah to end their suffering and oppression.

So when it looked like the Messiah had arrived, it was pride that inspired the people to jump on the Jesus bandwagon. They wanted to be part of what Jesus the Messiah was going to accomplish. They wanted the special status they could get by joining this latest Messiah movement. But Jesus didn’t turn out to be the kind of Messiah the people were expecting.

That’s when the pride of the Jewish leaders took over. The chief priests and elders and scribes had a long, proud tradition of having a special place among God’s special people. But Jesus’ teaching about the kingdom of God didn’t match up with what these leaders believed. Jesus’ teachings threatened the pride they took in their special place in God’s order. And it was the threat to their pride that inspired them to seek Jesus death.

“Pride turns people into predators.” Pride inspired the crowd to their self-serving cries of “Hosanna!” And pride goaded the Jewish leaders to demand Jesus’ death. When we people fail to exercise our uniquely human ability to love, we’re no better than animals.

“Pride turns People into Predators.” And it can do the same thing to each of us. When the things that give us pride are threatened, we tend to behave badly. We oppose and threaten and vilify the people or ideas that threaten us. And we’ll jump blindly onto the bandwagon of any cause that seems likely to succeed, just so we can take pride in being on the winning team – whether or not the cause is truly right and good.

As people, as human beings, we might perhaps take pride in being created in the image of God. But even the most righteous person has squandered the potential to live in love as a fully human being, created in the image of God. Since Adam and Eve, all have sinned and all have fallen short of the mark.

As Christ followers and people of God, the only source of pride we should indulge is pride in the Gospel message – that Jesus Christ came to save sinners - that God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son.

And Jesus himself is the only person to ever live the fully human life that God desires each of us to live. To exercise discernment and judgement, to choose good and not evil, to create and enjoy and live in relationship with God and people. To love God and to love our neighbors: that’s what it means to be the human beings God intends us to be.

The antidote to our sinful pride in our own achievements and possessions is shown forth in the life of our Savior, and is so beautifully stated in the reading from Philippians:

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,
who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death--
even death on a cross.
Jesus didn’t take pride in His equality with God. It was not the thing that gave pleasure and satisfaction to His life. Only relationship and love with the Father gave Jesus meaning in his life, therefore, he could set aside all things – even life itself - for the sake of that love.

I invite you to join me this Holy Week in following Jesus example, striving to set aside the sinful pride that inspires us to behave as animals, and indulge instead in the humility of Christ, the only thing that will make us the fully human beings we were made to be.

Amen

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Splendor, Righteousness, and Hopeful Expectation

(a sermon for St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, Purcellville, VA, December 6, 2009)
Lectionary Year C (RCL), 2nd Sunday of Advent: Baruch 5:1-9; Philippians 1:3-11; Luke 3:1-6; Canticle 16 (Luke 1:68-79)

[May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Your sight, O Lord.]

Hey, guess what! Something wonderful is coming! Bet you can’t guess what it is! What’s coming? CHRISTMAS! Well, that wasn’t very hard to guess after all, was it?

Actually it’s pretty easy to tell when Christmas is coming, because the signs of it are literally everywhere. Christmas sale ads and Christmas specials fill the television. Stores and offices are decorated in green and red. Christmas songs are playing everywhere. Holiday parties dot the calendar. Homes are tricked out with lights and inflatable figures and the days get shorter and darker. Even on the roads, cars are driving around with trees tied on top and the toll-booth attendants are wearing Santa hats. The signs of the season are too widespread to miss!

But just in case we miss all those other signs, here in the church, we have the season of Advent (which started last Sunday) to remind us that Christmas is coming. In fact, the term “Advent” is from a Latin word that means “coming.” But Advent is much more than just the weeks we spend getting ready to celebrate Jesus’ birthday.

I found a nice description of what Advent is about on Wikipedia, which says: “the season of Advent serves as a reminder both of the original waiting that was done by the Hebrews for the birth of their Messiah as well as the waiting of Christians for the second coming of Christ.” So Advent is a two part season: while we wait for December 25th to remember Jesus birth, we’re reminded that we’re STILL waiting for Jesus to come again.

So how do we respond to that? Jesus is coming!! – what do we do?!

Well, let’s consider the readings we have today.

In the reading from Baruch, the prophet is addressing the city of Jerusalem at the time of the Babylonian exile. The city is desolate, her children - her people – have been carried off to Babylon, but the prophet reminds Jerusalem that God will lead her people home. So, we find Jerusalem waiting for God to come.

And what is she to do while she waits? The answer is in the opening lines of the reading: “Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction, O Jerusalem, and put on forever the beauty of the glory from God. Put on the robe of the righteousness that comes from God; put on your head the diadem of the glory of the Everlasting…. Arise, O Jerusalem, look toward the east, and see your children gathered from west and east at the word of the Holy One.”

So, what’s that mean? What’s Jerusalem called upon to do while she waits? Well first of all, she’s to remember that she’s waiting for something - something good. “The garment of sorrow and affliction,” that bad attitude that “my life is terrible, woe is me!” – that mindset needs to be taken off and got rid of. Instead, she needs to put on an attitude that reflects the glory of God. Despite her circumstances, she’s called to display God’s splendor and righteousness, even as she “looks toward the east,” expectantly watching for signs of her people’s return.

So we’re called to three things while we wait for God’s coming: we’re called to reflect His Splendor, live His Righteousness, and await His coming with Hopeful Expectation.

Superficially at least, we do a pretty darn good job of displaying splendor as we wait for December 25th. Christmas is nothing if not a splendidly beautiful celebration. We prepare by decorating our homes with the natural beauty of God’s greenery, and the created beauty of lights, and ornaments, beautifully wrapped packages, delicious food, carefully crafted music and entertainment, and well-planned gatherings of the people we love. It’s splendid and it’s glorious and it’s why everyone loves Christmas. Because we’re created in the image of God, our desire to create and live in a world filled with splendid and beautiful things is an expression of the God-image in us.

But…, the call to righteousness and the call to hopeful expectation of God’s return are often lacking in our Advent preparations. They’re certainly lacking out there in the world, but they can be lacking even in here….

So what do we do about that? How can we respond to this call to righteousness? The gospel reading from Luke shows the way. John the Baptist is “the voice of one crying out in the wilderness ‘prepare the way of the Lord.’” John’s job is to announce that the kingdom of God is near – the Messiah is coming – Jesus is coming! And as John makes his announcement, he tells the people how to respond.

John proclaims “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” That is how to prepare. That is how to put on the robe of righteousness. Repent. Be washed and purified and forgiven for your sins. When we sinners repent, God counts us among the righteous.

Repentance and forgiveness are how we “prepare the way of the Lord” in our hearts. The reading from Luke refers back to the words of the prophet Isaiah, and I love the imagery of this passage.
“Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

Living in this world is hard on your heart. It gets wrinkled and pitted and bent out of shape; scarred, and warped, and abused. Poor heart! Between the abuse that’s inflicted on it from the outside, and the abuse we subject it to from within, our hearts are difficult terrain for Jesus to travel through, filled with highs and lows, crooked spots and rough patches. But when we prepare a way for the Lord - when we repent and are forgiven – we put on righteousness and our hearts are filled and restored, smoothed and repaired, made into a straight, level path for our Lord to travel.

In fact, the need to repent in order to prepare for the coming of Jesus is why Advent was originally a penitential season, much like Lent. That’s why the candles of our Advent wreath are purple, the color of penitence, and why some churches still use purple vestments and hangings during Advent. It’s important during this season of Advent that we repent and be forgiven in order to receive our coming Savior. That’s our call to righteousness.

And, conveniently, our reading from Philippians addresses the call to await God’s coming with Hopeful Expectation. With Christmas in our culture being what it is, it’s easy for our hopeful expectation to extend no further than the hope that Santa will bring that expensive iPhone or Wii console or diamond tennis bracelet, or that out-of-touch Aunt Gertrude won’t get you yet another “Dancing Santa” Christmas figure.

Paul’s words to the Christians in Philippi address a much larger hope and a much greater expectation than the trivial matter of what gifts will wind up under the Christmas tree. Paul says, “I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ.” And Paul’s prayer for these people is that “in the day of Christ you may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God.”

Our hopeful expectation is that God will complete the good work he has started in our lives. And that He will complete it by the time Jesus Christ comes again. As we say in the Nicene Creed, Jesus “shall come again in glory to judge the living and the dead.” We have to trust that God’s work in us will be completed by the time of Jesus’ second coming so that when we are judged, we will not be found lacking in righteousness. That is our very hope for salvation.

The question is, has God started a good work in you? If you’re here, it’s because God has drawn you here. But do you know Jesus? Have you accepted him as your Lord and Savior? Has knowing Christ changed your life? God has drawn us here to this community of Christians to hear his life-giving word, and to accept Jesus as our Lord and Savior. And if you’ve already accepted Jesus, then this is another chance to reaffirm that faith, to repent of the ongoing sins that plague us all, to marvel in the splendor of God’s presence.

The splendor and beauty of God that we reflect into the world with such abundance at this time of year, can only be fully enjoyed when we’re filled with the Hopeful Expectation of Jesus’ coming in glory, as our Savior – the one whose perfect Righteousness WE can receive when we confess Him as Lord -- when we repent and are forgiven.

Hey, guess what! Something wonderful is coming! JESUS is coming!

What are you going to do about it?

Amen

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Why Have I Forsaken You?

(a sermon for St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church, Ada, VA, October 11, 2009)
Lectionary Year B (RCL), 19th Sunday after Pentecost: Job 23:1-9, 16-17; Hebrews 4:12-16; Mark 10:17-31; Psalm 22:1-15

“My God, my God why have you forsaken me? And are so far from my cry and from the words of my distress? Oh my God, I cry in the daytime, but you do not answer; by night as well, but I find no rest. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Such poignant , rending words from Psalm 22! Words of heartbreak and anguish. The words of one who is suffering and who feels utterly alone - abandoned by people and even by God.

According to tradition, these words were spoken by King David during a time of great trial, although we don’t know the particular circumstances. Jesus also spoke these words, as he was dying on the cross, and in fact, he was quoting from this very psalm.

You and I also, we speak them - feel them – these words of abandonment. And how often we feel forsaken by God! When the bill collector is at the door. When the doctor’s prognosis is bad. When our children have run amok. When our loved ones are hurting. When we are hurting. “God – how could you let this happen? Why have you forsaken me?!”

It’s such a very human way to feel! I love that about the bible – that the people in it are so unapologetically human! God’s people are not “super saints”, they’re not perfect people who have it all together. God’s people are people with faults, people who fail. King David, who wrote this Psalm, accused God of abandoning him. At other times, he committed adultery and even murder. And yet, David is called a man after God’s own heart.

This imperfect humanity is on display throughout the entire Bible, including our gospel reading this morning. Just look at the Rich Young Man we heard about in Mark’s Gospel. I think he’s feeling pretty forsaken, too.

You see, he thought he had his act pretty well together, and he came to Jesus – the new teacher in town - for some advice on how to get eternal life. He had everything else covered; he had all the stuff that money could buy to provide him with a happy life in this world. He even had all the boxes checked in the “religious obligations” column: no murder, no adultery, no stealing, no lying, honor your parents. I also imagine he regularly went to the temple to offer the appropriate sacrifices, too.

But now there’s this exciting new teacher making the rounds, who has the aura of authority about him. So this rich man wants to make sure he’ll make it to the next world, too. And since he does at least as well as everyone else in fulfilling his religious obligations, I don’t think he expected Jesus to tell him to do anything he couldn’t manage. He’s rich, and he’s got his life under control. What could anyone ask of him that he couldn’t make happen?

And of course, Jesus tells him to do the one thing he will not do. Jesus asks him to give up the very thing that makes this wealthy gentleman a rich man: his possessions. Jesus pricks him in his idol: “Sell all you have and give the money to the poor.., THEN, come and follow me.”

The man goes away sorrowing. He feels forsaken, separated from God. Just like any of us might feel forsaken if God seems to be asking something of us that we are unwilling to give – or unwilling to give up.

And that shows us the catch, the wrong way of thinking that’s going on when we feel that God has forsaken us. Because who, after all, is doing the forsaking? Is God forsaking us, or are we forsaking God?

The verb “forsake” means “to leave altogether or abandon; to give up something formerly held dear or renounce.” So if God is forsaking us, then God is abandoning and renouncing us. God is turning away from us.

But that, my friends, just ain’t true! God does not forsake us – ever! God is always there, waiting for us to turn to him. God does not abandon us. In fact, as unbelievable as it may sound, God longs to be in relationship with us.

And that reminds me of the poem “Footprints in the Sand”. Let me read it to you:

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky. In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there was only one. This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints. So I said to the Lord, “you promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there has only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?” The Lord replied, “the years when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when I carried you.”

We are so quick to judge God. Even the person in the poem, who had a relationship with God, immediately assumed that God had left her when she needed him the most, when in fact, that is when the Lord was helping her the most.

No, the truth is that we are the ones who do the forsaking. We forsake God. We leave him, and abandon him. We give him up and renounce him for the sake of our precious idols.

We are the ones who put the distance between us and God. Every time we willfully choose to sin, we step away from God. Every time we doubt God’s good intentions for us, we step away from God. Every time we choose our will over God’s will, the gulf widens. Every time God speaks words of life to us, and we go away sorrowing because we will not follow them, we push God away.

We are not forsaken. Even when it’s not our personal sins hurting us, but just the sin and evil in the world that’s making us hurt and suffer – when the Doctor says “it’s cancer” or when some natural disaster strikes - even then it is we who push God away. We push God away in our hurt, with accusations of “How could You let this happen! Why!?” Instead of turning to God for the comfort that he offer us, we turn to him with anger and accusations.

And even then, God does not forsake us. Even though we forsake God.

The only person forsaken by God was Jesus. How ironic, that the one person who had the most intimate and close relationship with the Father, the one who was willing to give or to give up anything and everything, the only one who truly deserved to NEVER be forsaken was the only one to be forsaken by God!

And all for our sake… For us, for we fickle people who turn away from God of our own accord time and time again. So that we might never have to know the full horror of what being REALLY forsaken by God might feel like.

My God, My God, why have I forsaken You? Forgive Me!

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Unrighteous Anger

a sermon for St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church, Ada, VA
August 30, 2009, 13th Sunday after Pentecost
The readings: Song 2:8-13; James 1:17-27; Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23; Psalm 45:1-2, 7-10

“Anger” – it’s such an unassuming sounding little word, and yet seems to be everywhere these days. If it’s not in your face, then it’s simmering just below the surface, ready to boil over.

And the Road Rage crisis on our highways is a great example of how the simmering anger so many people live with can erupt in the blink of an eye. You make one wrong move on the highway – not driving the way Joe Schmoe thinks you should drive, or *gasp* making an error in driving judgment – and the next thing you know, you can find yourself part of a road war… whether you want to be or not.

I did a quick internet search for “road rage accidents” and got thousands of stories. When you read them, you just shake your head and think “what is wrong with these people?” A car and a pickup are driving down the road, the pickup passenger throws a beer bottle out the window that nearly hits the car. At the stop light, the car driver tells the pickup passenger that they almost hit the car with the bottle, and the next thing people are out of their cars, the car driver is beaten and hit on the head with a bottle, and one of the pickup passengers is stabbed by the car driver, and several people are on the way to the hospital.

Here’s another: A motocylcist gets frustrated with a motorhome travelling at 55 mph, so passes it, pulls in front, and slams on its brakes. The motorhome couldn’t help running over the cyclist, who was dragged for 75 feet under the motorhome, and died at the scene.

Or this: angry commuters in California forced the highway department to completely close a stretch of road they were widening, because of at three incidents of motorists angry about the possible delay. Two of them hit the highway flagman in order to drive through the construction zone when it wasn’t their turn, and a third also shot the flagger with a BB gun as they drove through. All because they were angry about the delay – so now everybody gets to take a nice long detour until the project’s finished.

We live in an angry, angry world, where the angry people spend their time justifying and explaining why they’re angry – and why it’s okay for them to indulge that anger. Here are some examples:

There’s not enough money, not enough leisure time, too long of a drive to work, the boss makes unreasonable demands, if the kids are still at home they don’t listen and if the kids are grownups they never call. We’re overweight and under-exercised, or dealing with painful health problems. The spouse isn’t making me happy any more, or the ex isn’t abiding by the terms of the divorce settlement. “Nobody understands how hard it is to be me! If they did, they’d get angry, too!”

When you focus on those difficult things and hold onto them, they build up pressure that makes a person frustrated, irritated, irate, stressed, enraged, exasperated, annoyed, infuriated or just plain riled up. We have become a nation of angry, angry people, most of whom think that getting angry is OK – as long as I’m the one getting angry!

The reading from James gives us a different message, though, doesn’t it? “Let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness.” And let me just repeat that last bit because it has the key: your anger does not produce God’s righteousness. It can’t. The only thing your anger can produce is your righteousness. Your righteousness is also known as self-righteousness, and we all know self-righteousness isn’t a good thing. One definition I found said that self-righteousness is “hypocritically pious - a feeling of smug moral superiority derived from a sense that one's beliefs, actions, or affiliations are of greater virtue than those of the average person.” Definitely not a Godly was to think!

And isn’t that just where road rage comes from, and a lot of other rages, too? From that smug sense that your way is better than all the other drivers, that you drive better, and that your driving superiority entitles you to punish or chastise drivers who offend your sense of what’s right on the road. It’s also self-righteousness that goads people into other sorts ofbad behavior in public places - the sense that “I know the right way and they aren’t doing it right and it’s my duty to tell them”, or “my errand is more important than any one else’s in this line, so I’m entitled to make a fuss until I get to my turn.”

“My anger” produces “my righteousness” which inevitably leads to bad behavior.

We can see this going on in our gospel reading, too. The Pharisees are criticizing Jesus disciples because they haven’t completed the customary ritual handwashing before they ate. It’s not that the disciples hands were necessarily dirty, it’s just that they hadn’t completed the stylized ritual washing meant to cleanse from contact with anything ritually unclean. The Pharisees speak from a sense of smug moral superiority and the sure knowledge that they know better than the average person. The Pharisees are self righteous to the core. And their anger and irritation that Jesus’ disciples are not following Jewish customs does nothing to bring about God’s righteousness in the world.

The Pharisees are angry because their self-righteousness has been offended, because the rules they’ve spent their lives supporting are not being followed. They’re not angry because they’re particularly worried about what God would think, and Jesus knows it. He calls them on their hypocrisy when he quotes from Isaiah: “this people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.”

So there we have the problem. We are filled with anger from our offended self-righteousness. We’re not so much concerned that God’s will has been contradicted but that our will has been contradicted. Just like the road rage driver isn’t angry because the governments driven rules have been broken: but rather because his or her own ideas of how traffic should behave have been broken.

We may honor God with our lips, but our hearts are often far away. So how do we fix that? What’s the cure? How do we get our hearts and lips in agreement? The cure is righteousness – not self-righteousness but God’s righteousness, and “righteousness comes with the unity of word and deed.”

Miriam Webster says that to be righteous is to act in accordance with divine or moral law; to be free from guilt or sin. So, to be righteous we need to actually follow God’s law, not just hear it then do something else So you are righteous when you hear God’s Word, you learn God’s word, and your responses, your deeds, are in accordance to that word.

James speaks to this also. He says, “be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves.” James is saying that what you hear and how you respond have to be in sync. Then he goes on to compare the doers with the hearers, using the idea of what happens when you look at a mirror. Now, I don’t think his meaning is particularly clear, so let me explain what’s going on here.

When you look at yourself as reflected from God’s word, you see yourself and all your shortcomings - all the places we don’t measure up to God’s standards, all our sin. It’s like a woman looking into a mirror and seeing that her hair’s mussed up, her makeup is uneven, her shirt’s buttoned crooked, her slip’s hanging out, and there’s a great big run down the front of her stockings. When you hear what God expects, when you consider his word, his law, you realize you’ve got a lot of things wrong.

Now, the person who only hears the word is like a person who looks in the mirror, sees all of the fashion flaws, but continues on their way, fixing nothing. They put their shortcomings and problems out of their mind, forgetting them, instead of putting any effort into fixing them. In just a very short time, it’s as though they never saw that mirror in the first place. For the person who only hears, any notion that they have sin or shortcomings or issues to work on quickly fades to a distant memory.

On the other hand, the person who hears and does the word is like a person who looks in the mirror, sees the fashion errors, and stands there fixing themselves up. Our woman gets out the comb, touches up the makeup, straightens up her clothes, and plans a trip to the 7-11 to pick up a new pair of pantyhose. What she see inspires action, and her actions help her remember where the problems are, what needs fixing, where things tend to get askew. Responding to what God’s Word shows you about your life helps you remember where you tend to sin, how you often go astray, so you can be vigilant.

So what about all that self-righteous anger? What we do with that? How do we overcome the tendency to road rage, or food store frustration, or phonecall fury? Here’s another word from James: “your anger does not produce God’s righteousness, therefore rid yourselves of all sordidness and wickedness and welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls.”

When we look in the mirror of God’s Word, when we own up to the ugliness in ourselves that we see there – the anger and other “evil intentions of the heart”, that ugliness will motivate our doing! Because what is the gospel, the good news, if not the message that Jesus Christ came to save sinners, sinners who peered into the mirror of God’s Word and saw the ugly reflection that greeted them. Sinners who saw the ugly truth and yet found that they – yes, even they - could be forgiven. Just as they are. Fashion flaws and all.

The forgiveness available to us as repentant sinners will fill us with such relief and joy, that we can’t help but go out and do something about it.
Amen.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

With All Your Might

(a sermon for St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, Purcellville, VA, July 12, 2007)
6th Sunday after Pentecost: 2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19; Ephesians 1:3-14 ; Mark 6:14-29 ; Psalm 24

As I was thinking about our readings today, a scene from “The Blues Brothers” movie came to mind. Have you seen “The Blues Brothers”? Basically, John Belushi and Dan Akroyd play Jake and Elwood Blues – “the blues brothers” - and they’re on a mission from God. They need to raise $5,000 to save the orphanage they were raised in. Early in the movie, an old friend tells them they need to get to church, and somehow they wind up at a black Baptist church, where worship is lead by a character played by the one and only James Brown.

This preacher quickly inspires the congregation, who start speaking and then shouting in response to his message. And when that preacher starts to sing, everyone’s on their feet, and people start dancing until the whole congregation has joined in, and the intensity just builds and builds. They’re leaping and running and bounding around the sanctuary in their enthusiasm and joy.

Meanwhile, at the back of the church, the Jake and Elwood stand out like a couple of sore thumbs, impassive and unmoved in their dark suits, dark glasses, dark fedoras - merely watching the worship going on before them. Until… until it all changes when the brothers get a sudden inspiration of how they can raise the money they need. A light from heaven shines on Jake, and he realizes they can re-form their old band and raise the money. Filled with that inspiration, they both join in the joyous dancing of the congregation.

And that whole scene captures the feeling of our Old Testament reading. “David and all the house of Israel were dancing before the LORD with all their might.” And just so you don’t miss it, it’s in the passage twice: “David danced before the Lord with all his might.”

This is what David and the Israelites were doing as they transported the Ark of God from the town of Baale-judah, back to David’s new capitol city in Jerusalem. They were bringing the visible presence of God to dwell in their midst, and so they danced before the Lord with all their might. And it could well have looked a lot like that worship scene from the Blues Brothers.

But isn’t it a bit unusual to think of dancing as a thing to do “with all your might”? When I think of doing something “with all my might”, dancing is not one of the things that comes to mind. I asked a couple of friends, and their first responses were of two sorts. The first was physical labor - like exercise, gardening, pushing a car out of the snow, opening a jar, splitting wood – things that require the concentrated application of your full physical strength to accomplish. The other sort was heart labors, like loving or praying – things that require the concentrated application of your heart.

How curious, then, to think of dancing “with all your might”, unless you happen to be a dancer. Dancing is just about having fun, right? Where’s the concentrated application of strength? Where’s the concentrated application of heart? What’s the thing to be accomplished?

Well, in the case of David and the Israelites, the thing to be accomplished is worship. What we have in this story is a picture of worship. David and people dance before the Lord with song and music, with instruments and shouts. After the Ark is put in place, offerings are made to God. David blesses the people in the name of the Lord. Food - a meal - is distributed to the people, and then everyone goes home.

It’s just like what we do here at St. Peter’s. We sing and make music to the Lord. We bring offerings. We share a meal in the Eucharist. We are blessed. And then we go home.

There are a couple of differences between what we do in worship and what David did in the particular story we’re looking at today, but the one thing I want to consider is how we express ourselves in worship.

David and company danced with all their might before the Lord. In that Blues Brothers scene, the congregation was dancing in the aisles. I’ve never seen anything even close to that here, with the possible exception of when we played “Carter Says” last week. When we get wild and crazy, we might be so bold as to raise our hands as we make our offering.

I’ve heard Episcopalians referred to as “frozen chosen”, and our worship here is definitely formal, it’s generally restrained, and it’s carefully ordered. And when you consider the contrast between what we do, and the picture of David’s unrestrained exuberance, it might make you wonder whether our worship is okay. Whether it’s adequate. Whether we need to loosen up and dance in the aisles ourselves.

My answer to you is this – “It Depends.” It depends on whether we’re worshipping with all our might, or whether we’ve just shown up to put in an appearance and go through the motions. Remember, to do something with all your might, is to do something that requires a concentrated application of strength or heart.

In David’s case, they applied both their muscles and their hearts to their dance of worship before the Lord. Our manner of worship doesn’t really require the application of muscle, although some might agree that kneeling through the entire Eucharistic prayer can require strength of body and will to accomplish. So that leaves the application of heart. Are you applying your whole heart to worship this morning? Are you giving it your all?

You really cannot answer “yes” to that question unless you know who it is that we’re here to worship. True worship – whether exuberant or more restrained – will always flow from a heart-knowledge of God – who He is and what He’s done for us.

That’s the key question – who is our God? You can be easily mislead if you listen to the wrong people. Even back in Jesus’ day, when his ministry was in full swing, and people were flocking to hear him teach and experience his healing touch, even then most people didn’t know who he really was.

That’s where our gospel passage starts this morning. King Herod thinks that Jesus is John the Baptist come back to life. The people think that Jesus is Elijah returned, or perhaps some new prophet like the prophets of old.

You can hardly blame them for getting it wrong, though. The Jews of Jesus’ time were not expecting God to take on flesh and dwell among them. The Messiah they were expecting was not God incarnate, but a man anointed to do God’s will and to free the Israelites from their bondage to Rome – a new David - a warrior and a politician, not a humble teacher and healer who ultimately got himself killed.

But what excuse do we have for not understanding who Jesus is? We know that he was killed – fully dead – then raised to new life, defeating death in the process. It’s all in here – in the New Testament - a powerful witness to Jesus’ life and work and identity. Why don’t we all believe it? Why do so many people poo-poo this testimony? “Jesus was a good man – a wise teacher – but he wasn’t REALLY God. He wasn’t REALLY raised from the dead. It’s all just a metaphor, or maybe a conspiracy by the disciples – but it didn’t REALLY happen like that!”

If you listen to people who are preaching that sort of message about Jesus – you are not going to understand who he really is. Instead, listen to God’s own testimony from the Bible. Listen to words like these that I’ve taken from our epistle reading, so beautifully summarizing what God has done for us – and who we are in Him!

“… God blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing….
He chose us in Christ… to be holy and blameless before him in love.
He destined us for adoption as his children….
In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses.
In Christ we have also obtained an inheritance… so that we… might live for the praise of his glory.”

Letting that kind of information penetrate from your head into your heart - truly acknowledging who our God is, who Jesus is – that’s what transforms us. Until you find that sort of heart-knowledge and understanding, you’ll be like Jake and Elwood Blues, standing at the back of the church, looking on curiously but not participating, and certainly not understanding what everyone is so excited about.

I can personally vouch for this truth because I myself spent many years sitting in these very pews, looking on curiously but not fully participating, and certainly not understanding what everyone was so excited about. It was only when the truth made it to my heart that I finally “got it” – that I finally had some notion of the wonder and glory of what God did for me and for all of us.

And if we live our lives in praise of that God – that God who has done so much for us - then we will surely worship “with all our might”. Whatever our worship together may look like, whether it’s dancing in aisles, or just calmly sitting, standing, kneeling as we move through the communal “dance” of our liturgy, whatever our style, it will be flowing from the sure knowledge of the love of God, to the praise of His glory! Amen.