Rise Up: Follow the Way

Sunday, January 7, 2018
Matthew 2:1-18 / Isaiah 60:1-6

We spend too much time sitting. Sitting in cars, sitting in front of the TV, sitting with our electronic devices in hand.  I am especially feeling that right now as I spent hours and hours sitting in buses and planes to get home on Friday. We spend too much time sitting. We even sit as we encounter Christ – through preaching and liturgy – in our private prayer lives – during our Bible and book studies.  We simply spend too much time sitting.

Isaiah starts this wonderful passage we just heard in chapter 60 with “Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.”   As we start 2018, I think it is time to sit less – it is time to rise up and move. And before you get out of your seats and start moving, let me tell you why.

Jesus says it most simply. “No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lamp stand, and it gives light to all in the house.” No one after seeing the Christ child just goes back to business as usual. It is hard for our light to shine if all we do is sit. And we are called to let that light shine.

The Magi saw a light shining in the east – a star that was filled with possibilities. We miss much when we call them Wise Men. They were priests of an ancient religion called Zoroastrianism; they were known internationally for their ability to read the stars – a highly regarded science at the time. Our word “magic” comes from the Greek word for “magi” – in a sense they were magicians and sorcerers. These Magi could have simply noted the star and affirmed the sign – “Oh look! Isn’t that interesting!” – and gone on with life. Instead they got up out of their seats and traveled all the way from Persia – modern day Iran – to see the child born King of the Jews.

It is interesting that the star didn’t guide them all the way to Bethlehem. Instead they went to Jerusalem – to the current King of the Jews – and asked Herod, “Where is this child who has been born King of the Jews?” We have heard the story so often that we miss how radical it is. Imagine for a minute that a group of Jewish Rabbis visited the Iranian Ayatollah today with compelling evidence about the child who would replace him as ruler. No wonder Herod was frightened – and rightfully so. He didn’t want a mutiny or an insurrection. It was hard enough to keep peace in the land. So Herod, who was not a Jew, asked the chief priests and scribes just where the Messiah was to be born. They knew their scripture and readily quoted the prophet Micah to him – the child would be born in Bethlehem.

Now notice something. Herod and the chief priests and the scribes did nothing with this information. They sat there while the Magi traveled the 8 miles to Bethlehem. If you knew someone was threatening your position would you stay put? If you were a chief priest and heard this news of the Messiah would you remain seated? Or would you act? I think too often we are like Herod and the priests – we adopt a “wait and see” approach instead of going ourselves. Of course we have legitimate excuses – like jobs and children and life that keeps happening. But they missed seeing Jesus, the light of the world.

The Magi, on the other hand, traveled to Bethlehem, following that star, until it stopped and stayed over the place where Jesus lay. And when they saw the Christ child they were filled with joy. And these foreign priests humbled themselves, kneeling before the child and his mother, offering gifts to this baby born King of the Jews. And then, being warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they went home by another way.

I’m struck by the fact that God works in so many different ways. God speaks to the Magi – foreigners from a foreign land – through the signs in the stars. God speaks through Herod, and through chief priests and scribes. God even speaks through dreams. And the Magi have this way of listening deeply to God’s voice even as God speaks in so many different ways. The Magi have this way of responding with courage and insight. And they went home by another way.

The word “way” used here is the same word used to describe the first followers of Jesus. They were called followers of The Way (capital letters). Jesus tells us in John’s gospel, “I am the way.” John the Baptist was sent to “Prepare the way.” And Paul, after his conversion, found those who belonged to The Way. Interestingly, the word means the road traveled. It also means a way of thinking and feeling and being. The way can be a physical journey; the way can also be a spiritual journey. And we, who call ourselves Christian, are also followers of The Way.

After seeing the Christ child, the Magi went home by another way. And when Herod realized that they weren’t coming back, he followed his own way – the way of fear – the way of greed – the way of power – and had all of the children under the age of two massacred. To this day we can hear the cries of mothers weeping for their children, refusing to be consoled.

I wonder what way we will travel this year. Will we take the safe routes, the known routes, the easy routes? Will we take the routes we’ve always taken? Will we guard our hearts and rely on what we already know and believe?

Or are we willing to go another way? Are we receptive to being led on new paths – paths that may require soul searching, and reading scripture through a different lens, and opening ourselves to hear new voices? Are we willing to think outside the box as we seek to bring skeptics and agnostics to Christ? Can we accept that God might work through people who are spiritual but not religious to show us the way? Are we willing to see God working in and through people who are part of the LGBTQ community, people who are immigrants and refugees, people who worship different gods? Are we willing to listen for God’s voice showing us the way through a stranger?

Do we trust the God revealed in Christ Jesus enough to follow in his Way?

Jesus leads us in the way of life. And Jesus calls us to lead others into the way of life. This way is never easy. There is always risk. There is always the possibility of betrayal and denial. The way of life inevitably leads to a cross.

As we sit here on this Epiphany Sunday, we are already looking toward Easter Sunday – that glorious day when the women came to the tomb early in the morning and found it empty – that astonishing day when Jesus appeared to the disciples showing them the wounds in his hands and side – that wondrous day when Jesus broke bread in Emmaus and the disciples saw the light of resurrection life.

As we anticipate Easter Sunday and resurrection, I wonder how God might be calling you today. What way will you travel this year?

Easter Sermon

Matthew 28:1-10

April 20, 2014

 

One of the gifts of being a pastor to this community, and not just to this congregation, is that I get to have interesting conversations with people from all walks of life. I get to interact with people who are completely unchurched, people who are de-churched, and people who are active in the church. While I love talking with people from all walks of life, I am the most intrigued by those who are de-churched. Those who have chosen, for some reason or another, to quit going to church.

Recently I had a conversation with someone who is de-churched. He had gone to church with his mother when he was a child, but as soon as his mother quit insisting that he go, he quit going. I asked him why, and he answered with startling honesty: the music was dull, the rituals were lifeless, and there was no room for questions and dialogue. I must admit that I was hurt – and yet, I heard the truth in his words.

Why is our worship sometimes seen as dull, lifeless, and rigid? The church is a living, breathing organism made up of people who are anything but dull and lifeless and rigid. The church is made up of people who are called to love passionately, live fully, and wrestle deeply with the meaning of life. The church is full of people who suffer and rejoice, who weep and laugh; people who ask tough questions. If the church isn’t creating a space to love and laugh and live fully - if the church isn’t inviting people to wrestle and wonder about God and faith and reality - then people are going to look elsewhere to find life. How is it possible that the church is sometimes seen as dull, lifeless, and rigid when it is made up of human beings like us?

Recently I came across a quote by the philosopher Soren Kierkegaard that resonated with me. He wrote: “The matter is quite simple. The Bible is very easy to understand. But we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well that the minute we understand, we are obliged to act accordingly.”

Think about it. We listen to sermons, we read books, we even discuss scripture in Bible studies. But we keep our distance. We “pretend we are unable to understand.” Because if we actually admitted that we understood the scripture and agreed to act accordingly our entire lives would be turned upside down!

And we aren’t ready for our lives to be turned upside down. Our lives already feel chaotic enough. We come to church to find comfort and stability and friendship. We come to church to sing praises to God with familiar words and favorite tunes. We share Christ’s peace, catching up on the hugs we’ve been missing all week. And we hear God’s Word read and proclaimed and gather at Christ’s Table. But we rarely deeply wrestle with what we hear. We rarely question what we experience. We are rarely challenged.

The truth is, most of us really don’t want to hear and understand the scriptures. Comfort and stability are much more appealing than transformation and new life.  And yet, deep down we all know we want more. We want to follow Jesus. We want to be challenged. We want new life.

Imagine actually loving your neighbor as yourself. Imagine giving the shirt off your back to a person who sues you for your coat. Imagine not worrying about your life, but rather trusting that the God who clothes the lilies of the field will clothe you and feed you. Imagine what our lives would be like if we actually lived the way scripture calls us to live. Imagine!

Imagine what would happen to homelessness if each one of us who has a spare bedroom welcomed a homeless person in and shared our lives with them. Imagine what would happen to hunger if we quit filling our landfills with uneaten food. I still can barely comprehend how it is possible that 20% of all of the waste we put in the landfill today is food waste.

Imagine what would happen to our prison populations if we made sure every child could read by 3^rd grade. Did you know that the third grade reading level is used to determine the future need of prison cells? What if we each made a commitment to spend an hour a week with a child, reading? Imagine what would happen to our physical and emotional and spiritual heath if people were paid a living wage to do meaningful work. Imagine what would happen if we were invited to use our God-given gifts every single day. Imagine a world where everyone was treated with dignity and respect.

I love the words from Martin Luther King, Jr.’s acceptance speech when he received the Nobel Peace prize in 1964: “I have the audacity to believe that peoples everywhere can have three meals a day for their bodies, education and culture for their minds, and dignity, equality and freedom for their spirits.” Amen!

On this Easter Sunday as we gaze into the empty tomb in fear and amazement we hear the angel’s words: “Do not be afraid; I know you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’”

Come and see, then Go and tell. There are two important actions here. Come and see – Christ is risen! Go and tell – He is risen indeed! Come and see – Christ is risen! The tomb is empty! This Jesus who was dead is now alive. This is not simply resuscitation. This is resurrection! Jesus was raised to new life. Jesus was bodily raised from the dead. He could be seen and touched, he could eat and drink; at the same time this new body could pass through locked doors and disappear from sight. This is resurrection! This is new life!

Yet, our enlightened and academic minds fail to fully understand. Kierkegaard was right.  We turn to theology and scholarship for explanations. Like doubting Thomas we want to see and hear and touch the truth. But the explanations are never quite convincing. They are not enough. People keep telling us we just have to believe. And we are quick to affirm, “I believe in the resurrection of the body!” And yet, belief doesn’t always translate into action.

Friends, Jesus’ resurrection is not just a promise of eternal life in the hereafter. We don’t say the words, “on the third day he rose again from the dead” and hear the promise of heaven. Jesus’ resurrection is the promise of everlasting life here, now, today. We are the living, breathing body of Christ in the world today. Through the resurrection of Jesus from the dead we have been transformed! We have been given new life. God’s kingdom is breaking in. Instead of spending the rest of our lives trying to understand this strange new reality, I invite you today to simply live it.

The angel tells us, “Do not be afraid.” Do not be afraid! Read the gospels, hear the good news, and act on what you hear. Die to your lives as they are today so that you can be raised to new life in Christ. Be born again. And again! And again, if need be! Seek God’s kingdom among the poor and the sick and the blind just as Jesus did. Make friends with strangers. Encounter Jesus in your neighbor. Love your enemies. Give of yourselves for others. Ask questions. Confront the darkness. Experience new life.

There is nothing more amazing, more beautiful, more startling, more exciting, more overwhelming, more joy filled, and more life-giving than the resurrection of Jesus from the dead.

Nothing.

Thanks be to God for this indescribable gift!

The Relational God

Matthew 3:13-17

Baptism of the Lord

Yesterday afternoon the dogs and I stood on the bridge watching the water race by. The Haw River was the highest I have ever seen it. The clay colored water was full of debris – logs and plastic bottles and other trash. And as I watched the river race by I thought of our gospel lesson and the meaning of baptism. John preached a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. Water has the ability to wash away all the “trash” in our lives, especially when there is a lot of water! And we all have a lot of “trash” in our lives that needs to be washed away. Perhaps we all need a flood to rush through our lives every once in a while to carry away all the debris.

Well, all of us except Jesus. Jesus knew no sin. And yet here he is in today’s gospel lesson, having traveled from Galilee to the Jordan, to be baptized. There is no “trash” in Jesus’ life. There is no debris to wash away. So what is Jesus doing at the Jordan River? Why has Jesus come to John to be baptized?

John is asking the same question. He is wondering what Jesus is doing there. Jesus doesn’t need to repent. Jesus has no sin to confess. Jesus is the Son of God! He does not need to be baptized. So we are not surprised when John tries to prevent Jesus from being baptized, saying, “I need to be baptized by you.” But Jesus answers: “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.”

When I ask people why they want to be baptized, or why they want their children baptized, the most common answer is so that our sins can be washed away. While there is no doubt that this is an important part of baptism, we all know that sin lurks around every corner. While we are born again and made new through baptism, this flesh – these mortal bodies – continue to stray from God. So there must be more to baptism than this.

So today, as we celebrate the baptism of our Lord, I invite you to reflect on the meaning of your baptism. Whether you were baptized as an infant and have no memory of that day, or as a youth or adult in response to God’s invitation into a deeper relationship; whether your baptism was a moment of profound encounter with God or simply a moment when you got wet – how does your baptism impact the way you live your life today? What difference does it make that you’ve been baptized?

Jesus tells John to go ahead and baptize him in order to “fulfill all righteousness.” Righteousness, at its most basic level, simply means being in right relationship with God, or living in a way that is acceptable to God.  We are right to wonder how Jesus’ baptism will fulfill all righteousness. How does Jesus’ baptism put us in right relationship with God?

Listen again to Matthew’s words: “And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.’”

Something truly extraordinary happened when Jesus was baptized. We are invited into the relationship between the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. So often when we talk about the Trinity – the three Persons who make up the One God – it feels like this piece of Christianity that we just have to accept because nothing about it makes sense. If we try to talk about the three faces of the One God we are accused of heresy. If we argue that God the Father is the Creator and God the Son is the Redeemer and God the Holy Spirit is the Sustainer we are told that we can’t assign different roles to the different persons – for they all act together in creating, redeeming, and sustaining.  If we push back and point out that the word “Trinity” isn’t even mentioned in scripture, we are reminded that the Doctrine of the Trinity is central to who we are as Christians. Theologians have written entire books on the Trinity, and yet we are still left trying to understand this God who is three in one.

As I have been working on my ordination papers, I have been reminded of this odd reality that we can best see the differences between the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit when they are interacting with one another. With that in mind, it is quite a gift that we get to witness the interactions among the three Persons in Jesus’ baptism!

As the Son comes up out of the water, the Spirit descends like a dove. The Son, who has chosen to take on flesh and become fully human, rises out of the waters of the Jordan. This is the river the Israelites crossed when they entered the Promised Land. As Jesus comes up out of the waters we are reminded of the way God liberated the Israelites from captivity in Egypt and gave them new life. God brought them through the waters of the Red Sea and through the waters of the Jordan to a land flowing with milk and honey.

We are often overwhelmed by this promise of new life seen through the Son, and we witness this new life as the Spirit simultaneously descends like a dove. The dove is this incredible symbol of peace and new life. Remember the dove that brought the olive branch to Noah pointing to the promise of new life for Noah and his family? After all that rain, the land was once again producing new life. And the Holy Spirit descends like a dove and rests on the Son.  This is a moment of intimacy; the peace that passes all understanding rests between the Spirit and the Son in this promise of new life.

But there’s more. A voice from heaven announces this incredible good news: “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” The Father pours out his love on the Son, affirming and delighting in their relationship. Beloved. In that moment we witness the Father’s abiding love for the Son.

And in Jesus’ baptism the Trinity is very real. We can see and hear and feel the three Persons who make up the One God as they interact with one another. It is a moment that is full of mystery and beauty. But perhaps the most amazing thing about this moment is that we glimpse just how deeply relational our God is. We glimpse the obedience of the Son and the love of the Father and the peace of the Holy Spirit all wrapped together to create something that is so much bigger than any one part. When we are able to enter this moment, the peace and joy and love that overflow from our God invite us to encounter the full depth of what it means to be in right relationship with our God.

For in the moment of Jesus’ baptism we are being invited through our own baptism into the fullness of the Trinity.  Our Three-in-One God is drawing us up into this divine relationship, longing for us to be one with God and one with one another through our baptism. God is inviting us into a deep and all encompassing relationship that is lived out in the midst of God the Father’s abiding love for us revealed through the Son and by the Holy Spirit.

Maybe we have missed just how powerful the moment of baptism really is. For through our baptism we have been incorporated into the very heart of God. And here, in the very heart of God, we are able to experience what it means to be in right relationship with God for here we witness the beauty of right relationship between the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.

 

In just a few minutes we will be reminded through our liturgy that baptism is a sacrament – an outward and visible sign of an inward grace. Through our baptism we have been incorporated into God’s mighty acts of salvation and given new birth. All this is God’s gift, offered to us without price. Certainly our sins have been washed away, but more than that, we have been drawn into right relationship with our deeply relational God. We’ve been drawn into the very heart of God. And through this intimate relationship with God we have been drawn into relationship with one another. No wonder the two greatest commandments are “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and mind and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself.” Those fulfill all righteousness!

Today, as we pause to renew the covenant we made with God through our baptism, I invite you to experience the fullness of our Three-in-One God. Touch the water and remember that the Son has experienced the fullness of humanity, in all its joy and sorrow. Allow the Spirit to rest on you and fill you with peace and new life. Listen to the voice of the Father, affirming that you are a deeply beloved child of God. Welcome the embrace of our profoundly relational God and be reminded that you are never alone. God loves you.

The God of Christian Ethics (The Problem of Suffering)

Romans 8:18-28 / John 1:1-5, 10-14

July 14, 2013

Where is God when bad things happen? Why do bad things happen to good people? If God is good and loving and all-powerful, why doesn’t God put an end to suffering? As we continue through this sermon series on seeing gray in a world of black and white, today we pause from dealing with specific issues to step back and look at a broader issue – the problem of suffering.

Our goal in this sermon series is to help each one of us think Biblically and critically about Christian ethics. In my first sermon, I began by looking at the Wesleyan Quadrilateral – the role of scripture, tradition, experience, and reason – in making faithful ethical decisions. We revisited that this week in our small group studies. I then focused on the importance and primacy of scripture as we wrestle with the difficult issues of our day. Over the past three weeks Parker has helped us explore three specific issues: science and religion, life and abortion, and war and peace. I hope you’re beginning to feel like you’ve got the tools and resources you need to articulate or at least explore where you stand as a Christian on these difficult issues.

This week, as I’ve listened to Parker’s sermons, participated in several of our studies, and reflected on the problem of suffering, the thing that struck me was that our focus as we wrestle with these difficult issues often seems to be largely on ourselves. We tend to ask, how will this impact me? Even as we look at and acknowledge the primacy of scripture, experience still plays a significant role in the way most of us do Christian ethics. Experience is what leads us to wonder why bad things happen to good people. It feels hard to step away from our own experiences and look at the broader picture.

I think we all understand that suffering clearly falls into the gray area of our lives. Dealing with suffering is difficult, even if we’re trained professionals. But there are some things that just don’t work. I think of those who try to help others by saying, “Everything happens for a reason,” or “It must be God’s will.” These phrases tend to transfer responsibility for the tragedy to God, lifting the responsibility from our own shoulders. “It’s not your fault,” “There’s nothing you could have done,” “Everything happens for a reason,” “It must be God’s will.” And perhaps lifting blame does help, but transferring the blame to God is – well – wrong.

When I was teaching high school, the head cheerleader one year was this amazing young woman named Vanessa. She was bright, talented, and well liked by all her peers. One day on her way to school she was in a deadly car accident that left the entire school reeling in grief. Everyone knew and loved Vanessa. The thing is, people kept saying things like, “It must be God’s will,” and “God must have needed her in heaven.” And I just wanted to scream. I have no interest in worshipping a God who wills suffering or who takes the life of a beautiful young woman for selfish purposes. If that is the God we worship, then I’m out of here.

This understanding of God is called Determinism. In this view God controls all things, knows all things, and is all-powerful. We are merely actors in God’s plan. This simply doesn’t match my understanding of God. My God is all-powerful but has chosen to limit Himself so that I might have free will. That’s how much God loves me. My God doesn’t demand my love. My God wants me to choose to love Him, to choose to follow Him, to choose to be obedient. And my God has shown me through scripture, tradition, experience and reason that when I choose other paths – as we all have done – those choices have consequences. Seemingly random consequences that ripple out and impact others the way a drunk driver might take the life of a child who was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. And consequences that are very clearly the result of my own decisions. No, I don’t believe in Determinism. God doesn’t control all things. But that often leads to the question, “Does God control anything?”

At the other end of the spectrum we have Deism. The belief in a creator God who put the stars in the heavens and the planets in motion and established the laws that govern the universe, but now God is now sitting back and watching the world go by.  In this view, God neither causes suffering nor intervenes to stop it. We’re on our own.

I suspect there are many people today – both non-church goers and church goers – who understand God in this way even if they would never articulate it this way. They affirm that there is clearly some creative force in the world – just look around at the beauty and wonder! – but that creative force appears to be more or less powerless in our daily lives. Well, if this is the God we worship, then I’m wasting a lot of time and energy. This God doesn’t care about me and my problems! I need to take care of myself!

If Deism and Determinism mark the extremes – if a hands-off God or a totally hands-on God mark our black and white – then we might as well forget about Christian ethics and just do whatever feels right. After all, God either already knows what we’re going to do or God doesn’t care. On the other hand, I’m really not sure I want to worship a God who falls somewhere in the middle of these two extremes. I need a God who is so much more than gray. A gray God just sounds wishy-washy. I need a God who is all-loving, all-powerful, and almighty. I need a God who is deeply relational – a God who walks with me in my pain. I need a God who creates and redeems and sustains. I need a God who loves me unconditionally, yet challenges me to grow into the child of God He would have me be.

And this is the God we meet in Jesus Christ. John’s gospel begins, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Think about this sentence for just a minute. In the beginning God was not alone. The Word was with God. But more profoundly than that, God was still one. The Word was God. John is opening our eyes to one of the most incredible truths about our God. Our God is and has always been deeply relational. While John is focusing on God the Father and God the Son, we know our God as Triune – we know that in the beginning God the Spirit was also present – the Spirit who intercedes with sighs too deep for words.

It is this God who made a covenant with us through Abraham. It is this God who led us out of slavery in Egypt. It is this God who sent us prophets and teachers. It is this God John speaks of when he writes, “and the Word became flesh and lived among us.” From the beginning this God has actively pursued a relationship with us. That’s how much God loves us.

In the book The Shack the Trinity is visualized as three persons – Papa, Jesus, and Sarayu. The main character, a man named Mack, is sitting at breakfast with God, listening to them talk. I love the way the author describes the scene: “It wasn’t what they – Papa, Jesus, and Sarayu – were talking about that captured Mack, it was how they related. He had never seen three people share with such simplicity and beauty. Each seemed totally aware of the others rather than of himself.” That’s quite an image of love and intimacy!

Mack comments: “I love the way you treat each other. It’s certainly not how I expected God to be.” God asks, “How do you mean?” Mack goes on: “I know you are one and all, and that there are three of you. But you respond with such graciousness to one another.” After further discussion, God explains, “We are a circle of relationship, not a chain of command... What you’re seeing here is relationship without any overlay of power” (Young, The Shack (Newbury Park: Windblown Media, 2007), 126-7).

This picture of genuine relationship within the Trinity – of love that is constantly focused outward without any power dynamics or selfish thoughts – is a picture of the relationship God longs to have with us.  “And the Word became flesh and lived among us.” God so longs to be in an intimate relationship with us! Just think of it – God the Son became a human being.  And we humans – who have always been rebellious and power-hungry and selfish – just completely missed the incredible gift of relationship we were being offered. Instead we crucified our Lord.  I still stand in total awe of the fact that God still didn’t give up on us – that God continued to love us unconditionally – that God still wants to have an intimate personal relationship with each one of us. On the third day God raised Jesus from the dead, giving us the promise of eternal life with God. If we choose it.

No, our God is not a Deterministic God or a Deistic God. Our God is a God of love and relationship. This is the core of God’s identity – a God who is three in one – deeply relational, overwhelmingly loving, full of grace and truth. Our God is so far from gray – I’d describe our God as all the colors of the rainbow, more beautiful and more vivid than anything we could ever imagine. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg because I have yet to fully experience God.

So what does this have to do with Christian ethics and the problem of suffering? Everything. Absolutely everything. A couple weeks ago we read Psalm 139 in worship:

O Lord, you have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away... You hem me in behind and before... It was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

God longs to be in relationship with you. God has been in a deeply loving and intimate relationship with you since before you were born. It pains God deeply to see us suffer. God weeps when we make decisions that have painful consequences. God feels our pain when we are caught up in the chaos that is the result of creation groaning. This life as it is was never God’s plan for us, but through the cross and resurrection we have hope.  We have a glimpse of God’s kingdom – a glimmer of the life that is to come. Hope.

And yet, in this current age, we still experience suffering. As Papa says to Mack in The Shack, “Honey, there’s no easy answer that will make your pain go away...Life takes a bit of time and a lot of relationship” (Young, 93).

Life takes a bit of time and a lot of relationship. Healing takes a bit of time and a lot of relationship. Bringing an end to suffering in our lives comes through a bit of time and a lot of relationship. Christian ethics – really understanding how to faithfully respond to the issues of our time – takes a bit of time and a lot of relationship. Time and relationship with God. Time and relationship with one another.

Which is why the Word became flesh and lived among us. And why the Spirit helps us in our weakness, interceding with sighs too deep for words. And we gather to worship God, even or perhaps especially in the midst of suffering, affirming that our God is awesome, that there’s no one like our God, that our God is greater and stronger and higher than any other. That our God loves us more than we could ever ask or imagine. Time and relationship.

I want to close with the words of the hymn, This Is My Father’s World. I vividly remember hearing this song in the midst of a very dark time in my life – a time of deep pain and discouragement. These words spoke to me powerfully, giving me comfort and hope. The words remind me that no matter where I am in my life – no matter how sad I am – no matter how wrong the situation is – God is with me. We are not alone. God has an intimate relationship with His creation, God wants an intimate relationship with me, God will never abandon me. Suffering will never have the final word.

This is my Father’s world. O let me ne’er forget

that though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.

This is my Father’s world: why should my heart be sad?

The Lord is King; let the heavens ring!

God reigns; let the earth be glad!

United Methodist Hymnal #144

Scripture: The Extreme Center (Second Sermon in Series on Seeing Gray)

Matthew 5:17-26

June 9, 2013

What is the Bible? Is it simply a collection of ancient writings? Or is it the Word of God? Are the words merely the words of human beings, capturing their biases, their cultural situations, and their interpretation of events? Or are the words inspired by God, speaking the deep truths of God and God’s people? Does the Bible contain errors that can be questioned? Or is every word perfect and without error, totally true and trustworthy?

These questions – and others like them – tend to catch us in this awkward place of “Yes, but...” These questions try to fit the Bible into a category and depending on what category you affirm, you are then placed in a category. You are either liberal or conservative, hell-bound or heaven-bound. There seems to be no room for gray.

Adam Hamilton captures this tension in a quote he found on a blog written by someone named ‘Strada’: “I spent 6 long... years in a black and white church and it almost killed me or at least my spirit. I have no verses to quote but I can say I dig the gray area, not because it leaves me room to twist His word, but it gives me room to understand it, make it real... God gave us a brain, we should use it and try to wrap it around His word” (Hamilton, Seeing Gray, p. 59).

I admit that I also dig the gray area. I love wrestling with the difficult texts of scripture, not because I ever find easy answers – actually I often end up with more questions than answers and an uneasy knot in my stomach. I love wrestling with difficult texts because they push me to see God and the people of God in new ways. The challenge is that when I read scripture deeply I inevitably confront my own sin, my own vulnerabilities, my own shortfalls. Through scripture God calls me to change, to repent, to grow in holiness – and while that is beautiful, it is never easy.

I’m struck by the fact that over the past century much energy has been spent arguing about the authority of scripture. The fundamentalists insist on the inerrancy of scripture, arguing that the Bible is fully inspired by God, with every word placed in the minds of the Biblical authors by God’s spirit. Consequently every word of the Bible is true and without error. Way at the other extreme we find folks like the Jesus Seminar who come to the Bible with great skepticism. The Jesus Seminar argues that only 18% of the words attributed to Jesus in the gospels were likely actually spoken by him. Essentially they dismiss Biblical authority completely, leaving the Bible as not much more than a bunch of stories.

I think these arguments are the work of the devil. Arguing about scripture has successfully kept us from actually reading and engaging scripture. Bibles sit on shelves, covered in dust. Morning devotionals cite scripture, but so often we don’t take the time to actually read the scripture. Many so-called Bible studies are really book studies or social gatherings. Many worship services gloss over scripture instead of actively engaging it.

I think it is time for us to reclaim God’s Word in our lives. I think it is time to dust off those Bibles and see what the book actually says. Speaking from personal experience, the year I took the Bible off its shelf and started reading it was the year God became real to me. It was the year Jesus went from being a wisdom teacher to being the love of my life. It was the year that shook me to my core, forcing me to reevaluate my priorities. It was the year that transformed my understanding of worship, and made Holy Communion holy. It was a year!

I love this book. I am much less concerned about who authored it or whether it has errors in it than I am with how God speaks to us through His Word. And I do believe it is the Word of God for the people of God. This book is a vital key to our growth in the knowledge and love of God. Today I want to challenge us to read scripture using 4 C’s. Scripture is meant to be read Communally, Critically, and Confessionally. Scripture is meant to be Communion with God.

Scripture is meant to be read communally. The invention of the printing press in the mid-15^th century radically changed the way people read scripture. Prior to that time the limited numbers of Bibles meant scripture was inevitably read in community. I don’t think it is a coincidence that the one holy catholic church splintered into hundreds of factions once people began to read and interpret the Bible on their own.

I don’t want you to hear that you shouldn’t read the Bible on your own. Rather, I want you to hear that we read scripture in light of a great cloud of witnesses. We read scripture in light of our creeds and our doctrines. We read scripture in the light of faithful interpreters from Augustine to Aquinas and St. Francis to Luther and Calvin to Wesley and Bonhoeffer and even Rob Bell.

I think this is what Jesus is getting at when he says, “Do not think I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill.” We can’t dismiss the pillars of our faith. We can’t throw out laws we don’t like just because we don’t like them. Jesus didn’t come to abolish them but to fulfill them – to bring them to completion.

Even as we wrestle with the difficult issues of our day, we know that Jesus is calling us to a higher standard, a greater righteousness. So we read scripture communally, listening to the great cloud of witnesses and paying attention to our traditions, constantly seeking to grow in holiness. At the same time we don’t just accept scripture at face value. Rather we read scripture critically.

How many of you have heard the saying, “The Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it.” Oh, if only the world were that black and white! The Bible says a lot of things – God tells the Israelites to destroy entire cities because the people in those cities are non-believers. If I simply believe that at face value then what am I to think about God? And what do I do with the commandment about murder? No, nothing is settled. We are called to read the Bible critically.

So just what is Jesus getting at when he says, “You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder’; and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire.’” The Bible says it. Do I believe it? If so, then all of us will be judged for our anger or thrown into the hell of fire for calling someone a fool. And what about grace?

A critical reading calls us to question our holy texts, to ask how these texts have been interpreted over time, to seek to understand how they witness to Jesus, how they call us to grow in our love of God and neighbor. A critical reading of this text may lead us to the conclusion that life is precious to God and that all our actions should consequently be life-giving. When we are angry at someone or call them a fool, we are diminishing their lives, sucking the life out of them. Murder is simply the most dramatic way to take away someone’s life. But so many other actions can keep a person from living life fully. How are we, as Christians, called to help everyone live life to its fullest? How do we invite everyone into God’s abundant life?

A critical reading calls us to read scripture imaginatively and to find ways to embody scripture in our daily lives. The Word of God is so much more than a series of laws and practices. It is a call to holiness. The Word of God constantly invites transformation. Which brings me to our third C – reading scripture confessionally.

Several years ago I read today’s scripture passage while leading worship with a group of men at the Durham County Jail. It’s one thing to read these words here, surrounded by people who value life and seek to love others. It’s another thing to read these words when you are surrounded by men who have never been given a reason to value life; men who have never been loved by others. Murder, anger, and insults are simply a way of life on the streets of downtown Durham. Life has no value. And yet God calls us to a higher standard. “If you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift.”

It is in the uncertainty and unsettledness of the text that we hear God’s voice. Calling us to repentance. Calling us to seek forgiveness. Calling us to be reconciled. A confessional reading of scripture opens our eyes to new truths and calls us to humility. I want to share a paragraph from my reading on scripture that speaks to the challenge of reading scripture confessionally:

More often, in our postmodern milieu, our attitude is one of tolerance rather than humility. There is an important difference between the two. Tolerance can keep its distance: Competing ideas can be relativized, promoting polite agreements like ‘You have your view and I have mine, and both are of equal value.’ Differences can be shrugged off, allowing misleading generalizations like ‘All religions are saying the same thing anyway.’ Common ground thus gained rests on artificial supports and pleasantries; it cannot withstand the give-and-take of real exchange. Humility, however, requires engagement: One view is held in relation to another. Conversants hold a stake in a point of view for which they are willing to argue. Conversation goes back and forth; there is an exchange. With this exchange, viewpoints are challenged and honed. A robust teasing out of meaning comes through difference, engagement, and a willingness to have views revised. An attitude of humility requires a willingness to explore competing ideologies and to identify the fault lines and shortcomings of our own beliefs as well as those of others” (The Art of Reading Scripture, 140).

That night in that jail I came to see my own shortcomings. For I was no different from the men I sat with. Perhaps I thought tolerance was the answer when I went into that jail that night. But tolerance keeps its distance. And that night I realized that we all needed to leave our gifts at the altar and be reconciled to someone – to one another, to our brothers and sisters, to God. Reading the Bible confessionally is a humbling experience – one that requires engagement with the text, with one another, and with God. Reading the Bible confessionally means being open to being changed. And the beautiful thing is that reading the Bible confessionally inevitably draws us closer to God.

Which brings me to my fourth C. As we engage scripture we are called to read scripture communally, critically, and confessionally. When we do, scripture becomes communion with God. Adam Hamilton describes an analogy that I find helpful. The Bible is like Holy Communion. When it comes to the bread and wine we use in communion we know human hands created these things. We can analyze the ingredients, describe the production process, and recognize the flaws. But something happens when we gather as the community of faith to share this ordinary meal. The Holy Spirit uses the bread and wine as an instrument of grace – the meal becomes holy – and we encounter the risen Lord in this profound and intimate way that is full of mystery and beauty.  

In the same way the Bible is a kind of communion, written by human beings, shaped by their historical context, their limitations, and their agendas, yet inspired by God and used by God as an instrument of grace. Through our faithful encounter with the text, the words become holy and we meet our risen Lord in ways that can profoundly transform our lives (see Hamilton, pages 68-9).  Through our faithful encounter with the Word of God we enter into this incredible story of our God and the people of God. It is my prayer that this summer as we wrestle with difficult texts and challenging topics we will be open to change – open to repentance – open to a radical reorientation of our lives and our thinking that is good and faithful and true.

Seeing Gray (First Sermon in Series on Seeing Gray in a World of Black and White)

Luke 10:25-37

June 2, 2013

There’s nothing about this world that is completely black and white. I think we often wish things were black and white, but we know everything has shades of gray. The commandments say to honor your father and mother. That seems black and white unless you have an abusive parent. We want issues like abortion and homosexuality and war to be black and white issues. But then your sister has an abortion or your uncle comes out of the closet or your best friend dies on the battlefield and these issues take on shades of gray. And we question what is right and what is wrong. We live in a world of gray, wanting simple answers and usually only discovering more questions.

This is exactly what happens in today’s gospel lesson. A lawyer stands up to test Jesus, challenging Jesus with a seemingly simple question: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” The lawyer would have been an expert in Jewish law – knowing the scriptures inside and out. He would know from the scriptures that inheritance was the reward promised to the people of God. Inheritance belonged to the covenant people, extending all the way back to the time of Abraham. In other words, inheritance belonged to the Jews. The answer was simple: live into the covenant God made with you.

Jesus is an extraordinary teacher. Instead of answering the lawyer’s question, Jesus answers the lawyer with two questions. The first, “What is written in the law?” acknowledges that the lawyer should know the answer. It is, after all, a simple question. The answer is black and white. Or is it? Jesus’ second question alludes to the gray: How do you read the law? How do you understand what is written there? What does it mean to you to live into the covenant God made with you? Maybe the answer isn’t so clear cut after all.

The lawyer answers by going straight to the greatest commandment, found in Deuteronomy 6. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind.” And then he tacks on a law from the holiness code in Leviticus 19: “And love your neighbor as yourself.” Black and white. Right? It’s all about love. God is love. Love God. Love your neighbor. And Jesus responds, “Do this and you will live.”

But the lawyer, wanting to justify himself, asks a second question: “Who is my neighbor?” At that time, Israel was part of the Roman Empire and the people were caught in a difficult place between their desired allegiance to the God of Israel and their required allegiance to the emperor. It was a tense situation at best for the Israelites as Roman laws and customs threatened to envelop and destroy the Israelites. The people of that time did much as we would do today when we feel threatened by outsiders – they embraced their own community. The neighbor was understood to be the fellow Israelite because so many of the rest where so clearly the enemy.

Who is my neighbor? The answer should have been black and white. But Jesus answered with a story. Stories, whether they are parables or real life situations, open our eyes to the complexities of life. Stories are a great way to help us see shades of gray. A man is beaten and stripped and left for dead. A priest goes by without helping him. Then a Levite. This is rather incredible that two men of God would go by on the other side. Certainly the third person will help – that’s just good story telling. But we can hear the listeners gasp when Jesus tells them that it was the Samaritan who stopped. It was the Samaritan who took the time to clean his wounds and carry him to an inn. It was the Samaritan who showed mercy.

A Samaritan! That’s a little bit like saying that it was the Islamic extremist who stopped to help. Our minds can’t quite grasp the idea that a potential terrorist might show mercy. We can’t quite wrap our heads around how a person who reads many of the same scriptures we do could interpret them so differently. We just don’t want to accept that we both worship the same God.

Jesus, that’s not just gray, it’s wrong! We want black and white. Tell the story again and let it be an Israelite who stops to help. That’s who the third person should be. Then we can just be critical of our leaders. Don’t make the enemy be the one who showed mercy!  That’s just wrong. It’s uncomfortable. What are we supposed to do with that?

Christian ethics. Determining right from wrong, deciding how to live faithfully, and making Christ-centered decisions is far from straight forward. Jesus has this habit of taking what seems to be black and white and making it very gray. How are we to love a neighbor who is so very different from ourselves? We have enough trouble loving the neighbor we already know!

Let’s take a deep breath and step back to look at the big picture. I think the story of the Good Samaritan does an excellent job of showing us a faithful approach to Christian ethics. Jesus and the lawyer start with the primacy of scripture. What does the law say? What does the Bible say about a particular situation? All our decision-making needs to start here. Next week we’ll begin to examine how we read scripture faithfully. For today, I simply ask that we acknowledge the primacy of scripture. It is our best source for understanding what God would have us think and say and do.

But scripture alone is not enough, as we see from Jesus’ answer to the lawyer’s question. It doesn’t provide clear answers to every question we have. Even a seemingly simple question like “Who is my neighbor?” is not always obvious.

John Wesley identified three other things that help us make good decisions: tradition, experience, and reason. With scripture, these four make up what is commonly called the Wesleyan Quadrilateral. Tradition, experience, and reason help us to get a clearer picture of how God would have us live. We always want to be aware of the roles of tradition, experience, and reason as we wrestle with the difficult issues of our day.

The thing is, tradition and experience can lead us astray. For the lawyer, tradition said that the neighbor was the fellow Israelite. Experience said that the Samaritan was the enemy. And Jesus spoke a deeper truth into that situation. Jesus used a shocking example to remind the lawyer that the Israelites were once slaves in the land of Egypt, so we should love not only our neighbor but the foreigner in our land. Jesus tagged the enemy as the one who showed mercy to remind the lawyer that God’s covenant with Abraham was a promise that through Abraham all the families of the earth would be blessed. And through reason the lawyer affirmed that it was the Samaritan, the one who showed mercy, who was indeed the neighbor.

Oh, the discomfort of Jesus’ teaching! Jesus has pushed the lawyer – and you and me – straight into the gray area. This murky place where right and wrong are so far from black and white. And John Wesley did the same, over and over again, with this movement he began called Methodism. Tradition told Wesley that you preach in a church and expect the people to come. Experience told him that the only way to reach the people was to go to the people. So he reasoned that in order to show the love of God to the world he needed to start preaching on street corners and in town squares. This was something he found quite repulsive. Something he did not want to do. But the conviction of scripture was clear. Go. Make disciples. Now. Not tomorrow. Today. And Wesley went.

This is an exciting and terrifying place to be as we confront the difficult issues of our day. We know most issues are not black and white, but we so dislike the gray. We want simple answers. And yet Jesus has invited us straight into the gray area by having the despicable Samaritan show mercy. As we wrestle with the hot issues of our day we may feel and experience much of the same discomfort as the lawyer as we are challenged by Jesus and by God’s word. It is likely that at some point over the summer each one of us will be offended or upset or angry, just as the lawyer was. It is my prayer that God will use these difficult moments to help all of us grow in our knowledge and love of God.

This is an exciting and terrifying place to be because asking tough questions inevitably leaves us vulnerable – open to being criticized, challenged, and found wanting. No one wants to be vulnerable. It is so uncomfortable. Even humiliating. The poor lawyer couldn’t even say the word Samaritan – he was so uncomfortable with this newfound truth. He had to say instead, “The one who showed mercy.” And we can feel his discomfort. We cringe at his humiliation. And then we remember Jesus on the cross.

Over these next weeks we will wrestle with scripture as we seek to understand the issues, inviting God to speak to us through the scriptures. This is a real challenge. Coming to God’s word with an openness to hear God speak is scary because God may well push us to think in new ways. God may well humble us. Sometimes this kind of thinking is painful because it touches our lives and our hearts as well as our minds. It calls us to change. And God may well invite transformation. Truthfully most of us really don’t want to change. It’s more comfortable to think of the neighbor in narrow terms. 

And still, God calls us. God pursues us. God invites us. God longs for us to change – to repent – to turn away from sin and to grow in holiness – to become more like Jesus. May this journey into Christian ethics be a time of growth and transformation for all of us. May God have his way with us. It is my hope and prayer that by the end of this sermon series and the corresponding five-week study each one of us will have grown closer to the God who created this world and all that is in it; that each of us will more deeply love the God who already knows and loves us intimately; that each of us will experience new life through the God who longs for healing and wholeness not just for us but for the whole world. It is my hope and my prayer that each one of us may gain new insights into the difficult issues of today – insights that help us to love our neighbors even when they think and act and believe differently from us. And in all things, it is my prayer that God be glorified. Thanks be to God!

Living the Truth

I don’t suppose we really know what to expect as we anticipate the gospel reading on Christ the King Sunday. Perhaps the image that comes into my mind is of Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a donkey as the crowds wave palm branches and shout Hosanna to the King. Of course, we know Jesus is not an earthly king, so maybe our images of his kingship are more likely to be images of Jesus feeding the 5000 or walking on water – images that display his awesome power. Perhaps the image of Christ as King that comes to mind is of Jesus standing before the crowds on that Good Friday wearing a crown of thorns and being mocked by the soldiers. But this image of cruelty and suffering and humiliation doesn’t exactly match what we think of when we hear the words Christ the King. And yet this image comes the closest to revealing the tension of this day – the day that marks the end of the Christian year and points forward to Advent.

Today our gospel reading comes from the 18^th chapter of John. The caption in many Bibles reads “Jesus on trial before Pilate.” But today, as the gospel is read, listen for who is on trial. Is it Jesus before Pilate? Or is it Pilate before Jesus? Who is the one in authority here? Who speaks the words of truth?

³³Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, ‘Are you the King of the Jews?’ ³⁴Jesus answered, ‘Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?’ ³⁵Pilate replied, ‘I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?’ ³⁶Jesus answered, ‘My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.’ ³⁷Pilate asked him, ‘So you are a king?’ Jesus answered, ‘You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.’ ³⁸Pilate asked him, ‘What is truth?’

 

Christ the King Sunday is one of my favorite Sundays. I love the fact that we mark the end of the Christian year by remembering and affirming Christ’s Kingship. It feels both celebratory and anticipatory to me. We celebrate all that God has done through Jesus, loving us unconditionally, freeing us from bondage, saving us from sin, and giving us new life and hope and joy. And we anticipate that day when “the kingdom of this world is become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ and he shall reign forever and ever!” (Rev 11:15). And on that day there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain and we will be his kingdom, serving our God and Father forever and ever.  Amen!

And yet, here we are on this Sunday after Thanksgiving, this Sunday after Black Friday, this Sunday when many of us have already decorated our homes for Christmas and yet Advent doesn’t begin until next Sunday, and I wonder if we really believe that Christ is King. Do our words affirm Christ’s kingship? Do our actions reveal that Jesus is Lord of our lives? Do our choices testify to the Truth?

In my reading this week I learned that Pope Pius XI established the feast of Christ the King in 1925 in response to the increasing secularism he saw in the world. The war to end all wars – World War I – was past, but already tensions were growing. People were living in fear, struggling with economic depression, and desperately looking for answers. Mussolini was already in power in Italy and Hitler’s power was growing daily. People were looking to these powerful men for answers, listening for new truths and eager for relief. The Pope felt it was important to call on Christians everywhere to declare their allegiance to Christ, to look to Christ and Christ alone for answers, for relief, for the truth.

Here we are almost 90 years later, still shocked by the growing secularism in this world. People still live in fear, we are still struggling with an economic depression, and we are still looking for answers. Our leaders have different names, and many are no where near as evil as Mussolini and Hitler, but still wars continue to rage, people continue to starve to death, and Christ’s kingdom seems a very long way off.

It is in this place of discomfort and fear and even hopelessness that we turn to today’s gospel reading. At first glance, as we see Jesus standing before Pilate, we sense our own discomfort and fear and hopelessness. For it is clear from the start that the crowds want Jesus dead. Jesus has been betrayed by a friend, abandoned by his followers, and now stands alone before the Roman governor – the man who has the power to kill him or set him free. In the scenes that follow, we know Jesus will be flogged and mocked and crucified. The scene is terrifying, we sense a loss of control; this is not a story of Christ the King.

But let’s look more closely at who is on trial here. Who is the one who is being questioned? Who is the one who is being given the opportunity to embrace the truth? Pilate has just encountered the Jewish leaders who bring no specific accusation against Jesus – they just call him a criminal. When Pilate tells them to deal with the problem themselves they come back with the statement, “We are not permitted to put anyone to death.” The Jewish leaders are manipulating Pilate. They have put him in a difficult position. He knows the Jewish leaders fear insurrection. As the governor it is his job to keep order – to keep the peace. And yet there doesn’t appear to be an insurrection. The followers of Jesus seem to have abandoned him. So Pilate, in his uncertainty about what to do, questions Jesus: “Are you the King of the Jews?”

And Jesus immediately turns the tables and puts Pilate on trial: “Why do you ask? What have others told you about me?”

Pilate becomes defensive: “I am not a Jew. I don’t care about you or your little band of followers. You’re no threat to me. And yet the Jewish leaders have handed you over to me and now I have to deal with you. Tell me: What have you done?”

Jesus’ answer speaks volumes: “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the authorities. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.”

This answer confirms for Pilate that Jesus is not a threat to him. Pilate tries to placate the crowds and release Jesus. But the crowds want Jesus dead. They cry for the release of Barabbas. They shout, “Crucify him!” They announce that they have no king but the emperor. And Pilate wavers – in his uncertainty, Pilate takes the easy way out – Pilate gives in to the pressure of the crowd and hands Jesus over to be crucified.

Pope Pius XI was concerned about growing secularism. People looking for easy answers instead of turning to the Truth. People wavering between various opinions instead of looking to Jesus. People turning to their own means, listening to society’s ideas, and accepting the world’s ways of doing things; all in the name of finding security and comfort and perhaps even happiness. 

But didn’t Pilate do exactly this? Rather than listen to the truth of what Jesus was saying, Pilate listened to the crowds – the fickle crowds who also did not hear the truth; Pilate accepted the world’s solution to this so called threat standing before him wearing a crown of thorns – death on a cross – an easy solution for a governor; Pilate used his power to find security and comfort at least for himself – Pilate took the easy way out.

And isn’t this what we do today? Maybe it looks a little different today in our own lives and in this community, but we still seek security and comfort and even happiness in things other than God.

Here we are, just two days after “Black Friday” – which actually this year became “Black Thursday.” How many of us were out shopping at 10 pm on Thursday? Or up at 5 am on Friday to get those unbelievable deals? Why do we do this? Do we really believe we’ll find happiness as we slog our way through the crowds looking for that elusive bargain? Do we really think we are finding security and comfort in our relationships by wading through traffic to buy one more gift for a person who probably won’t remember the gift three months from now? Do we really feel the pressure to cave in to the cultural impulse to “shop ‘til we drop”?

Of course most of us don’t. Most of us, in fact, are just a tad sickened by the profound commercialization of Christmas. And yet we participate in it. Why?

I think it is because we have been taken captive by a false idea that things can make us happy. The media has convinced us that we need more, bigger, better, newer stuff. And in response we either relentlessly consume more and more, or we feel inadequate that we can’t. In fact, I’d argue that a whole lot of us waver between feelings of compulsion to buy and spend more (whether we can afford to or not) and feelings of guilt knowing that this isn’t helpful to us, to those around us, to the orphans in Zimbabwe, or to this planet.

Must Pilate’s fate be ours? Because here’s the thing – Jesus makes Pilate a promise: “Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” But Pilate doesn’t listen, throwing back the question, “What is truth?” Pilate embraces the secularism of his time rather than the truth. But we might listen. We might embrace the truth. And if we do, what might we hear? It’s simple, actually: Jesus is the way and the truth and the life. Jesus is the way to comfort and security and even happiness. Jesus is the unwavering truth, the One who is in control. Jesus promises us abundant life, a life full of blessings.

We don’t need more stuff. We don’t need to feel insecure if we can’t afford more stuff. We don’t need to rely on earthly rulers for comfort and security. We will never find our way by embracing the things of this world. But this is easier said than done. It is easier to cling to the bargains of Black Friday than to embrace the truth of that Good Friday so long ago. It is easier to swallow turkey with all the trimmings on Thanksgiving Thursday than to wrap our head around Jesus’ words, “This is my body given for you.” It is easier to put up Christmas trees and listen to holiday music than to consider the tension of the “already not yet” of Christ’s kingdom.  What do we do with the One who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty, the Alpha and the Omega, in this time and place?

The answer is so simple and yet so complicated. We declare Jesus King of our lives. When Jesus is Lord of our lives we see this world differently. We see that we don’t need Pilate’s power; we have Jesus’ compassion. We don’t need Pilate’s insecurity and desire to please others; for God love us beyond all measure.  We don’t need to be trapped by the things of this world; for we have been given new life in Jesus Christ.  We don’t need to conform to the ways of this culture; for we have been called to a higher truth. Jesus Christ is King and Lord of all.

On this eve of a new Christian year, what would it take for each one of us to truly live as those who believe that Jesus is King? What would we have to change in order to enter into this season of Advent truly preparing for Jesus’ coming – not just as a baby born in a lowly manger, but also as the King of Glory? How do we wrap our heads around the truth of a king who wore a crown of thorns instead of a crown of gold and whose weapon was a cross and not a sword?

I think we all know that declaring Jesus King of our lives takes turning away from the things of this world and turning toward Jesus. It takes loving God with all our heart and soul and mind and strength, and our neighbors as ourselves. It takes letting go of our fears and insecurities. It takes embracing Christian community in all its complexity. It takes this crazy leap of faith because making Jesus king of our lives is so counter-intuitive, so contrary to this culture, so different from the ways of the world, and yet, so amazing. It takes Jesus.

And Jesus is calling you. Jesus is calling me. Jesus is inviting us once again to follow him, to place our trust in him and him alone, to allow him to be King and Lord of our lives. Will you answer this call?

Response: The Summons (TFWS 2130)

The Summons

by John Bell 

1. Will you come and follow me
If I but call your name?
Will you go where you don’t know
And never be the same?
Will you let my love be shown,
Will you let my name be known,
Will you let my life be grown
In you and you in me?

2. Will you leave yourself behind
If I but call your name?
Will you care for cruel and kind
And never be the same?
Will you risk the hostile stare
Should your life attract or scare?
Will you let me answer prayer
In you and you in me?

3. Will you let the blinded see
If I but call your name?
Will you set the pris’ners free
And never be the same?
Will you kiss the leper clean,
And do such as this unseen,
And admit to what I mean
In you and you in me?

4. Will you love the ‘you’ you hide
If I but call your name?
Will you quell the fear inside
And never be the same?
Will you use the faith you’ve found
To reshape the world around,
Through my sight and touch and sound in you and you in me?

5. Lord, your summons echoes true
When you but call my name.
Let me turn and follow you
And never be the same.
In your company I’ll go
Where your love and footsteps show.
Thus I’ll move and live and grow
In you and you in me.