Heritage Presbyterian Church

Love Grows Here

Sunday’s Sermon – Incarnational Living – Hebrews 13:1-8

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How are you doing today? It’s a question we tend to answer multiple times a day, so much so that it’s become a cursory response. “fine” “good” “ok” “busy, but good” are all culturally acceptable responses, and they may indeed be our true answers. But what about when we have other answers to give? What if we have accomplished something incredible and we want to share how proud we are. What if life is going really well and we have a lot to celebrate. Those responses seem to go over pretty well. And then, there are the other answers. The ones that answer the question just as honestly, but are not really what the asker is looking for. What if we are tired because we have been going non-stop for who knows how many weeks now and we are desperate for a break. What if we are struggling with the weight of the world and our lives in such a way that just getting dressed and out the door was a challenge. What if we are angry and irritated because we’ve just had a fight with a loved one. What if we are anxious or worried because we don’t know how a situation in our lives is going to work out. Typically, I’ll venture that many of us conceal these types of answers, and substitute a “fine” when asked, because we know that the one asking was just making polite conversation, and probably doesn’t want us to go into the whole answer. And, as a result, we engage in routine transactional conversations like this day in and day out, seemingly forming relationships with each other based on reciprocity.

“Let mutual love continue.” This morning, I want to offer that the writer of Hebrews calls us to a different level of engagement with each other. This isn’t just a “hey- ask each other how they are doing, then smile and nod and be on your way.” It is a radical call to be in community with each other in ways that reflect honesty and solidarity. If the rest of the letter is filled with what it means to “do good” and “be good” and follow in the footsteps of the legends of faith, here the author concludes with an earnest plea that this way of living not be solitary, and outlines ways in which that is lived out with these words about community.

The illustrations are striking: offering hospitality to strangers, no doubt referencing Abraham and Sarah’s welcoming of the 3 visitors in Genesis, and spending time with those in prison or who are tortured, along with a note about a marital bed. All have one thing in common: they are places where people, where we, are the most vulnerable.  And that is a hard place to be. I’d venture a guess that’s the reason we hesitate to dig deeper into that “how are you doing” question; because it comes in times and places where we don’t want to make ourselves vulnerable, or slow down to really just be with each other.

Do you have someone in your life to whom you can honestly answer the question “how are you doing?” Or, perhaps even more importantly, when you ask that question are you prepared for the fullness of possibilities it brings? Can those you ask give you their most honest answer? If so, you’re on the way to mutual love. Seeking to go deeper in relationships with others, it is said that John Wesley would open small group meetings with the question “how is it with your soul?” Cursory answers don’t quite fit that. Instead, it’s a deep look in the eyes of another person, and following up that social exchange with “but really. How are you?” Such a question opens the door to truly being in a community with each other that is marked by mutual love, because it opens the door to hearing and holding the challenges others experience in life.

This kind of listening is difficult. More often than not, we approach those experiencing challenges or vulnerability with sympathy. We feel sorry for their situation and attempt to offer some sort of condolences, support, or pity. Doing this is a start, but also continues to keep us at a distance. What the writer of Hebrews pushes, I think, is a more engaged and relational way of being with each other.

Dr Brené Brown is a best-selling author, speaker and research professor. She has spent the past decade studying vulnerability, courage, worthiness, and shame[i]. She argues that the best way to ease someone’s pain and suffering is not sympathy, but empathy. The Royal Society for the encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce, whose mission is to enrich society through ideas and action, put some of her words with animation to explain the distinction between sympathy and empathy, and what it means to have a genuine empathetic connection, or, as I would offer, a genuine mutual love connection. Let’s check it out:

https://www.thersa.org/discover/videos/rsa-shorts/2013/12/Brene-Brown-on-Empathy

What makes something better is connection. That is Hebrews 13 in a nutshell, maybe even the whole letter and in some ways the sum of all of our scriptures. As people of God, we are a connectional people – not just on some surface passing on the street level, but on a meaningful and significant level as siblings in Christ. Theologican Dietrich Bonhoeffer said:

We belong to one another only through and in Jesus Christ[ii].

He continued to note, as you see on your bulletin cover, that through Christ, we have been given this gift of community with God and with each other, and called to actively participate in it[iii].

In Jesus Christ, God modeled what mutual love was all about. Rather than just look down from a cloud and say “wow, that’s a pretty messed up world. You want a sandwich?” God became flesh and lived among us. Literally came down into the world so that God would know what the human experience was like firsthand. God didn’t just have sympathy for the way things were in the world. God had empathy. God was present with God’s people, just as God had been since the beginning when God led the people of Israel through the wilderness with a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night (see Exodus 13). In Jesus, God continues to be faithful. God sits next to us when we are overwhelmed. God stops to listen to whatever answer we have to that question “how are you?” God promises us that we will never be alone, to the end of the age. We know this as the incarnation, and it sets the tone for how we relate to God, and how we relate to each other.  When we live in empathy, we live out an incarnational theology, reflecting a God who comes alongside us and is present with us as we seek to come alongside and be present with each other.

Maybe it starts by truly asking each other how we are doing, and taking the time to listen. Maybe it continues by finding spaces where we can be brave and vulnerable in ways that open us up to answering with the most honesty we can muster. Maybe then we will be entertaining angels. At the very least, children of God.

Let mutual love continue . . . And, how are you doing today? Amen.

Sermon by Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford, Heritage Presbyterian Church, September 1, 2019

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[i] https://www.thersa.org/discover/videos/rsa-shorts/2013/12/Brene-Brown-on-Empathy

[ii] Bonhoeffer.

[iii] “Christian brotherhood is not an ideal which we must realize; it is rather a reality created by God in Christ in which we may participate.” Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together: The Classic Exploration of Christian Community, trans. and introduction by John W. Doberstein, (New York: HarperOne, 1954).

 

 

Sunday’s Sermon – Creation’s Cries – Romans 8:18-25

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This July, our summer sermon series pairs Scripture texts with well-known and loved books by Dr. Seuss as modern parables to deepen our exploration of faith in the world together. This week our Dr. Seuss classic is Horton Hears a Who!

Have you heard the expression “mom brain”? It’s usually a joking-but-true phrase we use to ascribe the phenomenon of how after having children, a woman sometimes loses the ability to keep things straight and are forgetful, to say the least. This is particularly true in those early, sleep-deprived months, but its effects are surprisingly long-lasting. The parenting load is no joke, and the struggle is real. But, truth-be-told, the idea that having children changes things is a scientifically proven fact.

Research shows that pregnancy changes the architecture of the brain for at least two years in areas that govern the understanding of the thoughts, feelings, beliefs and intentions of others[i].

One of the ways this is seen is in a woman’s response to her crying baby.

Researchers from the National Institutes of Health watched the behavior of 684 mothers who had infants approximately 5 months old in North and South America, three countries in Western Europe, two in sub-Saharan Africa, one in the Middle East and two in East Asia. Mothers in all of those places were more likely than not to do the same thing when their infant cried in distress: they picked them up, held them and talked to themi.

And while this might seem like a common response, the neurological responses showed a much different reaction between mothers and other women without children. In mothers,

these responses were deeply wired into the nervous system at a level that is typically associated with instincts. . . the crying of babies triggered the moms’ brains to move and prepare to talk, even before the mothers had necessarily processed what was happening and what they needed to doi.

In summary, those who were parents had an innate instinctual connection with those crying out, and a response of care almost before they could even think about it.

If such a connection is hard-wired into us as humans, how much more must it be hard-wired into God’s relationship with us as Creator? The entire witness of Scripture reveals a God who longs to be in relationship with God’s creation. Over and over again, God seeks out covenant with God’s people, offering grace and love in the Hebrew and New Testament scriptures alike. And here, in Paul’s letter to the Romans, we are reminded of God’s care and presence for what God has created even in the midst of creation’s cries.

N.T. Wright describes this Spirit-inspired prayer as “the beating heart of [Paul’s] whole sequence of thought[ii].”

No matter what, Paul says, God is listening and preparing to free God’s people from bondage and usher in a new age of redemption, where cries will be no more. Through Christ, God responds to the cries of creation for wholeness.

Just as God led God’s people through the wilderness to freedom, so the Spirit leads all of God’s children to a life of freedom.
. . .
Paul’s claims are expansive: everything will be redeemed – all of creation, our bodies, the substance of this earth[iii].

The knowledge of all of this leads Paul into a description of hope; a hope for what is not yet seen. Blair Alison Pogue notes that we don’t really live in a world of hope, saying:

Most Americans are optimistic, but not hopeful[iv].

In the midst of struggle, we want things to work out for the best, but aren’t necessarily convinced that it’s really possible. Vaclav Havel, 20th century Czech writer, statesmen and former president, talked about hope as prophetic and more as:

an orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart. It transcends the world that is immediately experienced, and is anchored somewhere beyond its horizons[v].

Put this way, then, hope is about anchoring our hearts beyond ourselves. This is what Paul was writing about to the Romans. For Paul,

Christian hope is not pie in the sky; it is hope rooted in what Paul calls “the first fruits of the Spirit” (v. 23). This metaphor of the first fruits means that in Christ we already have come to know the power of life over death. We already know freedom. We already know love. We have tasted the first fruits, and they have whetted our appetite for the final banquet. We do have out-of-hand expectations. Because we know the first fruits, we rejoice at the loving, the living, and the freedom. We hunger for more, and we cry out wherever love is absent, life is shortened, and freedom is taken away. The church of Jesus Christ is the community of sisters and brothers who live in anticipation of a new birth of freedom, a new day of loving, and an inheritance of life abundant[vi].

What does it look like to live in this kind of community? Horton the elephant gives us a clue in the Dr. Seuss classic, Horton Hears a Who!. In the midst of his everyday life, this elephant pauses to listen for a call to help. And rather than ignore it, or pass it on as someone else’s problem, Horton makes it his mission to protect and care for that little voice on the speck of dust, because “a person’s a person, no matter how small.” He goes to great lengths, extraordinary lengths, to attend to what we learn is not just one little voice, but a whole people down in Whoville who are at risk. He embodies what it means to be a caretaker of God’s creation, even at the risk of his reputation and at times his safety. He is mocked and ridiculed by others who cannot, or perhaps choose not, to hear the cries of those small voices. He goes out of his way, quite literally, to seek out the speck in a whole field of clover, determined to not let it get lost now that he is aware of its presence. And he endures harsh treatment and even imprisonment for daring to advocate for the smallest of the small, all while trying to encourage their voices.

Where are the “specks” in our world? The list is likely larger than the three million clovers Horton sorted through in that field to find his friends. I wonder if that scene might remind us that there are countless issues and concerns, the majority quite worthwhile, but that some will quite literally call to us more than others, and be the ones the Spirit is nudging us to be passionate about. Throughout Scripture, we hear such calls, to care for and attend to the lost and the lonely, the widow and the orphan, the stranger living among us. Those, along with others on the margins of society, were the ones Jesus himself spent the most time with, and are the ones that are crying out, waiting and longing to be heard. And creation needs, God needs, Hortons in the world to hear and respond: to the older adult who feels forgotten, to the prisoner whose family can no longer visit because he’s been moved even farther away, to the child at the border who does not know if or when she will see her mother again, to the young adult who is struggling with addiction, to the child terrified to go back to school because of bullies. For these, and all of those instances where creation is crying out, who will listen? Who will respond?

This morning, I have a present for each of you. I have a basket full of “specks” and invite you, following worship, to take one home with you. Carry it around for a while, kind of like Horton did, as a prompt to engage in active listening for who God might be calling you to hear. Living in this kind of anticipation puts us into an active relationship with the world, not just as we know it, but in the fullness of all who is. And we might just be able to hope for things we do not even see as a result.

Vaclav Havel reminds us that:

Hope, in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously headed for early success, but rather an ability to work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance to succeed. The more unpromising the situation in which we demonstrate hope, the deeper that hope is. Hope is not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out. In short, I think that the deepest and most important form of hope, the only one that can keep us above water and urge us to good works, and the only true source of the breathtaking dimension of the human spirit and its efforts, is something we get, as it were, from ‘elsewhere.’ It is also this hope, above all, that gives us the strength to live and continually to try new things, even in conditions that seem as hopeless as ours do, here and now[vii].

So may we listen, and act, and live into being the good caretakers and stewards of creation that God intended us to be – for all of God’s children and all of God’s world. Even when it seems impossible or futile, even when it means we’re putting ourselves out there. May this be our call: not just being satisfied with the present, but living into the future promised by God. For this, all of creation cries out. Amen.

~Sermon preached by Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford, July 21, 2019

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[i] Belinda Luscombe, “Here’s How Mothers Around the World React When Their Babies Cry,” https://time.com/4992130/motherhood-crying-babies/, accessed 7/20/19

[ii] N.T. Wright, “Romans,” in The New Interpreter’s Bible (Nashville: Abingdon, 2002), 10:591. As quoted by Karen Chakoian in “Exegetical Perspective: Romans 8:12-25,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011).

[iii] Karen Chakoian,“Exegetical Perspective: Romans 8:12-25,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011).

[iv] Blair Alison Pogue, “Homiletical Perspective: Romans 8:12-25,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011).

[v] Vaclav Havel, Disturbing the Peace, as quoted by the Vaclav Havel Library Association, https://www.vhlf.org/havel-quotes/disturbing-the-peace/, accessed 7/20/19.

[vi] David M. Greenhaw, “Pastoral Perspective: Romans 8:12-25,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011).

[vii] Vaclav Havel, Disturbing the Peace, as quoted by the Vaclav Havel Library Association, https://www.vhlf.org/havel-quotes/disturbing-the-peace/, accessed 7/20/19.

Sunday’s Sermon – Sent – Luke 10:1-11

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This July, our summer sermon series pairs Scripture texts with well-known and loved books by Dr. Seuss as modern parables to deepen our exploration of faith in the world together. This week our Dr. Seuss classic is Oh, the Places You’ll Go!

“Congratulations! Today is your day!” our book this week begins. It could also be a modernization of Jesus’ instructions to his disciples. While often we think about Jesus sending the disciples out into the world with the Great Commission in Matthew 28 which called us into worship this morning, our text from the gospel of Luke reveals another sending of the disciples that is equally compelling. On his way toward Jerusalem, Jesus sends out disciples to spread the good news to all the world. And did you catch the number? It’s more than “the 12” we tend to cite. It’s 70, and that number is significant. It mirrors the number presented in the list of all nations in Genesis 10 alongside the story of the tower of Babel. Thus, we are meant to understand it to be complete. It is a monumental moment in the gospel, furthering Luke’s insistence on sharing stories that reveal God’s desire for the gospel to truly be for all peoples and all nations, a theme that continues well into the book of Acts. One step further, this is a story about what it means to be in community together. The disciples are even sent out two-by-two. Mitties McDonald DeChamplain offers that:

Jesus is clearly affirming that proclaiming the good news of the kingdom is not a solo performance, but a communal and relational activity – a concert of the whole body of those commissioned. The message is ever inclusive and expansive[i].

But, before the disciples can race on their way, Jesus has some words of wisdom for what they might expect. He lays out the possibilities for them for the road ahead. You know the countless locker room scenes shown in tv, the movies, or even real-life sporting event coverage? The coach tends to have an uplifting, inspiring speech. The players are captivated and focused, and everyone leaves cheering because of how pumped up they are? Yeah – this isn’t quite that pep talk. You see, Jesus lays out for them not just the exciting and wonderful good news that is the message they will deliver; he also tells them to brace for things that are difficult. They’ll have to figure out their way without carrying much of anything with them. But more disturbing, they may face total rejection. Here in 11 verses, Jesus describes what life looks like as a disciple, and it’s full of ups and downs.

Dr. Seuss’s last book, published in 1990, was Oh! The Places You’ll Go!. It quickly became a best-seller and reached #1 on the New York Times Bestseller list. It still remains near the top of those lists, especially in the springtime, when there is a bump as it’s purchased for its words of wisdom to new graduates. Ready for the roller coaster? The book begins with that uplifting notion, quite literally with a hot air balloon soaring. But then bang-ups and hang-ups happen. You can be left in the Lurch. Confusion sets in on which way to go. You get stalled out in the tediousness of waiting. Until you don’t, and then you’re barreling ahead to fame and fortune. Or the bottom can fall out and leave you lonely, or scared. Surrounded by fears that threaten to overwhelm. And you get mixed up with all sorts of strange birds. But you can, and will, do amazing and marvelous things in the end. Whew! It’s a whirlwind of experiences, all wrapped up neatly in rhyme. But, isn’t it also a depiction of the realities of the journeys of life?

That same kind of comprehensive description of the way things might be is what Jesus gives to the disciples in Luke’s gospel. I love that Jesus paints such a realistic picture of life. He doesn’t look at the crowds that have been following them and promise them something that is perfect. He doesn’t promise riches or good health or any form of guaranteed benefit for doing this work. Being a disciple of Jesus Christ is not a guarantee of “the good life” here and now. In fact, sometimes it’s quite the opposite. DeChamplain continues saying:

The reality that many things can devour and diminish the commitment of Jesus’ disciples, and the likelihood of rejection on the journey is strong. Those commissioned, however, are not to be people pleasers but God bearers – offering God’s peace to all[ii].

Some days, that will be received well, and community will be formed. Meals will be shared, people will be healed, and the kingdom of God will be glimpsed. But other times, well, it’s just not pretty. And when that happens, Jesus calls his disciples to leave, and not even take the dust from that place with them on their feet. Move on, there is more journeying to do.

We often like to imagine that beautiful mountaintop scene from Matthew, with discipleship being all about going out, preaching the gospel, baptizing babies, and celebrating God’s presence with everyone joining hands and singing happily. But Luke’s version of the kingdom of God is grittier than that, reflecting that life as a disciple can be a bit of a roller coaster. Personally, I find that kind of honesty about life refreshing, because it carves out space for God to be a part of every aspect of our journeys, with us at every twist and turn in the road. And if we know that to be the case from the start, it might be easier for us to find God in the midst of the “Great Balancing Act” we know as life. And if we can do that, we might have a chance at this thing called discipleship.

We know that living a life of faith has its ups and downs. Some days, we are filled with the Holy Spirit and enthusiastic about spiritual practices. Our prayer life feels focused, we are eager to read the Bible or some other devotion. We serve others with love and compassion. We might even come to church with a spring in our step, excited about participating. The music is uplifting and the sermon really hits home with us. Other days, though, it’s not so easy. Our Bibles gather dust on the shelf because life is too chaotic. We rush through prayers or forget them all-together. We would rather hit snooze or go to brunch than attend worship. Or maybe the sermon is a dud. It happens. Or, we want to engage in fellowship, but feel disconnected from others. Maybe we fight some with each other, or grieve the loss of what once was in our faith communities. The list goes on. If we took stock of our lives, attentive to the faith aspects, I imagine we’d also find it full of ups and downs. The good news of today’s text, I think, is that Jesus tells us that’s normal and to be expected. He also calls us to go anyway.

Robert Short gives us wisdom for the journey, saying:

To get lots of mileage, you must have a great mission. If you really want to go great places, then you’ve got to have something great to go for. The greater the goal, the farther you’ll go . . . Furthermore, if you really want to be unconquerable in this quest, if you want to be a winner no matter what happens, then what you are going for must also be unconquerable. It must already be the winner[iii].

He then reassures us that all of this can be accomplished (yes, we’ll do great things! Move mountains even!) – not because of us, but because the work has already been accomplished in Jesus Christ. We are simply called to take that message into the world and share it in as many ways and in as many places as we can, trusting that God has been, is, and will be, responsible for what happens from there.

Two lesser-known theologians, Jake and Elwood Blues quipped “We’re on a mission from God!” Being disciples is not just about coming to worship and professing faith in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. It’s about recognizing that our Lord and Savior launches us into the world. We were not meant to be stagnant beings just biding the time until Jesus comes back. No, we are to go ahead and proclaim his coming. That’s what the seventy were sent to do in Luke, and two thousand years later what we are called to as well.

I think we often forget this part of discipleship – the going part. Especially as a community of faith. Sometimes we treat the church too much like a destination and endpoint for our faith, an offramp instead of an on-ramp on which we accelerate into the world. Carol Howard Merritt challenges us on this complacency, saying:

Too often Christians are shut up in sanctuaries, concerned about leaky roofs and outdated boilers, counting the attendance, and wringing their hands because people do not seem to be worshiping God as they did in the past. Congregations spend so much time caring for their own and feeling anxious about their demise that they sometimes forget that they, like the seventy, have been sent out with the gospel of God’s love and justice and mercy. How can we get out of the pews and join in the mission of God to the world? How, like the seventy, do congregations recognize and embrace their active participation in the reconciling work of God beyond the narrow confines of their own fears and needs?[iv].

The answer, I think, lies in our ability to simply keep going, and stay focused on the call we have been given as disciples. Ultimately, that’s what Jesus tells his followers to do. Don’t carry extra things that will distract or weigh you down, rejoice in the message you’ve been given without trying to bounce around from place to place, and if things happen that block or impede the message, just move on.

In addition to the words from Jesus and Dr. Seuss, this morning we might borrow the lyrics of another poet, Frank Lebby Stanton, who was a popular editorial columnist for the Atlanta Constitution who was named Georgia’s first Poet Laureate in 1925. Among his many writings is a turn of the century poem titled, “Keep a’Goin.” It reads:

If you strike a thorn or rose, Keep a-goin’!
If it hails or if it snows, keep a-goin’!
‘Tain’t no use to sit and whine when the fish ain’t on your line;
Bait your hook an’ keep a-tryin’- keep a-goin’!

When the weather kills your crop, keep a-goin’!
Though it’s work to reach the top, keep a-goin’!
S’pose you’re out o’ ev’ry dime, getting’ broke ain’t any crime;
Tell the world you’re feelin’ prime – keep a-goin’!

When it looks like all is up, keep a-goin’!
Drain the sweetness from the cup, keep a-goin’!
See the wild birds on the wing, hear the bells that sweetly ring,
When you feel like sigin’, sing – keep a-goin’![v]

No matter what, we are called to keep going on the mission Christ has given us – to go into the world, our topsy-turvy, chaotic, ups and downs world, and share what we know to be good news, the very gospel itself. So, let’s do it. We’ve got writers giving us inspiration, Christ himself cheering us on, and we aren’t alone; we get to do this together. Today is our day! With God’s help, we’re off to great places! So, let’s get on our way! Amen.

~Sermon preached by Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford, July 14, 2019

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[i] Mitties McDonald DeChamplain, “Homiletical Perspective: Luke 10:1-11, 16-20.” Feasting on the Word: Year C, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).

[ii] Mitties McDonald DeChamplain, “Homiletical Perspective: Luke 10:1-11, 16-20.” Feasting on the Word: Year C, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).

[iii] Robert L. Short, The Parables of Dr. Seuss, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).

[iv] Carol Howard Merritt, “Pastoral Perspective: Luke 10:1-11, 16-20.” Feasting on the Word: Year C, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).

[v] https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/7b/KEEP_A-GOIN%27_by_Frank_Lebby_Stanton_1c.jpg

Sunday’s Sermon – Picky Eaters – John 6

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This July, our summer sermon series pairs Scripture texts with well-known and loved books by Dr. Seuss as modern parables to deepen our exploration of faith in the world together. This week our Dr. Seuss classic is Green Eggs and Ham.

How many of you consider yourselves “picky eaters?” I asked this question on my Facebook page earlier this week, asking for rankings on a scale of 1-10. A few placed themselves midway, weighing various dietary choices and decreeing certain foods as anathema, from peanut butter to green peas, while others admitted to all out pickiness at the top of the scale. But the majority of my friends seem to rate themselves a 1 or 2 on a scale of 1-10, many claiming they “eat anything.”

I wonder how the disciples would have answered, particularly after hearing Jesus’ lengthy description in John 6. These almost 40 verses, some of which we read this morning, are known as the “Bread of Life Discourse.” They come in the gospel text following familiar stories like the feeding of the 5,000, and Jesus walking on water. Now, Jesus settles in the synagogue in Capernaum and tries to explain to those who have gathered what is going on.

“I am the bread of life.” It is one of seven “I am” sayings in John’s gospel that unveil who Jesus is. They echo God’s voice from the burning bush in Exodus, revealing the presence of the divine. Throughout the gospel, Jesus himself lays out that God’s ancient promises are being fulfilled, noting that the ability for all to come to him depends only upon hearing and learning[i].  The people have been following with many questions, eager for additional proofs so that they might believe. Here, Jesus provides with, as David Hull describes it, a symbol that would have had rich meaning and immediate understanding to his audience. He notes:

Today we use utensils to move the food from a plate into our mouths. Bread is often served at meals, but it is seen as a “starter” or a “side.” Many who are watching their diets choose to forgo the bread. Therefore, when we hear that Jesus is “the bread of life,” we can too easily think in terms of a metaphor for something that is as optional as a dinner roll. . . The way that Jesus and his contemporaries ate was radically different from the way most Westerners eat. No utensils were used. A person ate with his food or her hands. Bread was usually used to dip into the food and bring the food from the dish to the mouth.  . . The Western mind-set allows us to think of bread as an extra that we can take or leave; but Jesus was operating with an image that was essential to the process of eating.  . . . Bread, then, was not an extra to be chosen or omitted; it was how persons accessed the food that was placed before them. According to John’s Gospel, then, the incarnation is the means by which we can access and partake of the life that God offers us. . . . Life is the main course. The “bread” is how we are able to receive the main course[ii].

In this passage, Jesus connects all of the dots, and lays it on a platter, if you will, almost literally for those who would listen, and invites them to join the feast. His words are graphic and visceral, carrying weight and impact that would have made those listening take notice. The fullness of God presented in dramatic fashion, ready for the taking.

But did you catch the response of those who heard it? Of the religious leaders and even his own disciples who had been following him? They are full of doubts and speculations, and scrutiny. It must have looked like trying to get a baby to eat green beans. In a study just over 10 years ago by researchers Forestell and Mennella, they introduced pureed green beans to a group of infants for the first time. Their reactions were as you might expect:

95% of the babies squinted

82% waggled their brows

76% raised their upper lips

42% wrinkled their noses

In short, babies looked disgusted, and the more disgusted they looked, the more slowly they ate[iii]!

Here Jesus is in John 6, spoon-feeding the very words of life to all who will hear, offering them that which will sustain, and they are turning up their noses at it.

As 21st Century Christians, we like to imagine that we would have seen Jesus and immediately known that he was the Messiah. We call ourselves disciples, indicating that he is the one we would have chosen to follow. We have the great benefit of knowing more of the story, and with 20/20 hindsight we can easily claim we would have been believers. If Jesus had shown up and said “I am the bread of life” in front of us, we would have gobbled it up, right? Maybe, or maybe not. Those who followed Jesus, even those closest to him, pushed back in this passage as they tried to make sense of it. You see, what we often forget is that Jesus was so provocative and innovative that he often stunned those gathered crowds. He left them scratching their heads, trying to figure out what it all meant. Jesus was in the business of change, and that wasn’t always readily accepted. He might as well have been offering them, well, Green Eggs and Ham.

In this classic by Dr. Seuss, the unnamed resistor is adamant about not trying what is offered to him from the enthusiastic Sam-I-Am. And so, Sam gets creative, offering different ways of hearing it and experiencing it in hopes of enticing him to take a bite. But each time, the creature resists. He doesn’t even list excuses or reasons. He simply repeats his dislike for green eggs and ham under any circumstances. He is, for the majority of the book, unable to even entertain the possibility of such a new dish that is unlike anything he knows or likes.

If we’re really honest, rather than jump in with two feet at what Christ himself would call us to do, we are a bit more like that character in the book. Writer James Kemp offers:

So many times in life we, like Sam’s friend, initially resist something that ultimately we might like, or something that ultimately we need whether we like it or not. We are hesitant to try new things, resistant to hearing new ideas or perspectives, especially when those new perspectives make us uncomfortable . . . It’s far easier to insist that we don’t like green eggs and ham than it is to try on a new way of looking at things, especially if the new message might reflect negatively on what we’ve been doing up to now[iv].

And so we resist change. We resist things that put us outside of our comfort zones. We tear things apart and seek to discredit rather than open ourselves to the possibility of learning something new.

Anne Lamott wrote that “the opposite of faith is not doubt, but certainty[v]”. Sam’s friend was sure that he knew he would not like Green Eggs and Ham, even though he had never tried them. His certainty blocked his ability to have faith in what Sam might have been offering him. Have you ever resisted something simply on principle? Simply because it was new? Could you imagine what that might be like in your faith life?

Today, I’d invite you to consider what spiritual foods Jesus might be offering you that you have either flat our refused, or have been pushing around your plate for some time. Maybe it’s a spiritual practice, or way of prayer. Perhaps it’s some nudging that you keep getting a sense you’re supposed to do as a way to live out God’s love in this world, but just haven’t been able to get the fork to your mouth, so to speak. Or maybe it’s something you just can’t imagine working for you at all. Would you like it here or there? Could you, would you? What would it mean for you to test out those waters and stretch yourself in faith.

A word of caution here: I’m not suggesting that anything goes, or that you’ll like everything. I’ve heard of homes where people take “no thank-you bites”; in my house you take the number of bites equal to your age before you see if you do or don’t like something. But here’s the thing – you don’t know until you try. And sometimes, especially if you know that it’s something that is good and healthy for you, it’s worth the discipline of trying.

Remember those babies who were given green beans? They survived. In fact, after gentle introduction and offering those green beans to the babies eight to ten days in a row, it appeared they got over their initial dislike of the vegetables. It just took time. Just over a week later, those babies were eating three times as much pureed green beans as they did on their first experience[vi]. Other studies have had similar findings, prompting the advice for parents to *gently* introduce new foods multiple times, a dozen or more even, rather than give up on a particular food after one refusal. Persistence, it seems, pays off a bit.

Maybe this is why Jesus spent almost 40 verses repeating himself about being the way in which God was revealed to the world. Maybe this is why he continued to teach using parables and sit with people in the synagogue and heal and perform miracles. He used every way possible to get the disciples and others who had gathered to understand what was going on and what God was about. And maybe of the best truths about the good news of Christ’s resurrection is that God isn’t done with the world yet. Jesus continues to move among us, surprising us and demonstrating God’s power in this world. Course after course, God delivers us the bread of life. Over and over it is offered to us, the feast of grace and wholeness, the transforming possibility of new life. We get a taste of it every time we gather together as God’s people; every time we come forward to this table.

This meal, known as Communion, or the Lord’s Supper, is also called the Eucharist, which simply means “thanksgiving.” It is our moment, as those who have experienced the gospel of the gospel, to come together and say, as the character does at the end of the book, “Thank you, thank you, Sam-I-Am!” It is a meal of grace, where we offer our praise to God. It is also a time when we get another taste of the good news God has to offer.

Through Jesus Christ, the feast has been prepared, and we are all invited. So may we not be so quick to protest; instead, may we dare to come and eat, to taste and see that the Lord our God is good. Amen.

~sermon preached by Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford, Heritage Presbyterian Church, July 7, 2019

 

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[i] Richard Manly Adams, Jr, “Exegetical Perspective: John 6:41-51,” Feasting on the Gospels, John, Volume 1, Cynthia A. Jarvis and E. Elizabeth Johnson, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2015)

[ii] David W. Hull, “Homiletical Perspective: John 6:41-51,” Feasting on the Gospels, John, Volume 1, Cynthia A. Jarvis and E. Elizabeth Johnson, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2015)

[iii] https://www.parentingscience.com/how-to-start-babies-on-solid-food.html; https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/18055673

[iv] James W. Kemp, The Gospel According to Dr. Seuss, (Valley Forge, PA: Judson Press, 2004)

[v] Anne Lamott, Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith, (New York: Riverhead Trade, 2006), 256-57., as quoted by Margrey R. Devega, “Pastoral Perspective: John 6:41-51,” Feasting on the Gospels, John, Volume 1, Cynthia A. Jarvis and E. Elizabeth Johnson, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2015)

[vi] https://www.parentingscience.com/how-to-start-babies-on-solid-food.html; https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/18055673

Sunday’s Sermon – Called to Freedom – Galatians 5:1, 13-25

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Freedom is a word you are likely to hear a lot this week, especially on Thursday as we celebrate the 4th of July. In the midst of cookouts and fireworks, parades and pool parties, is the reminder of our country’s history. On this holiday we celebrate that we have the freedom to speak, think, worship, and act without hindrance or restraint. With freedom comes the hope and promise for everyone to have an equal opportunity for life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That is certainly something worth celebrating. And worth contemplating a bit; specifically, to consider what exactly we mean when we talk about “freedom.”

In his State of the Union Address on January 6, 1941, then President Franklin Delano Roosevelt outlined a vision of four fundamental freedoms. He described them in this way:

The first is freedom of speech and expression—everywhere in the world.

The second is freedom of every person to worship God in his own way—everywhere in the world.

The third is freedom from want—which, translated into world terms, means economic understandings which will secure to every nation a healthy peacetime life for its inhabitants—everywhere in the world.

The fourth is freedom from fear—which, translated into world terms, means a world-wide reduction of armaments to such a point and in such a thorough fashion that no nation will be in a position to commit an act of physical aggression against any neighbor—anywhere in the world.

That is no vision of a distant millennium. It is a definite basis for a kind of world attainable in our own time and generation[i].

It’s a pretty good list, right? It offers more than just a dictionary definition of “freedom,” and instead a thoughtful expression of what freedom looks and feels like not just for individuals, but for a society as a whole. And yet, as good as this definition, and other philosophical and political ideations of freedom that both predated and followed this are, today I’d offer that one of the most compelling understandings of freedom comes in our biblical texts. Namely, in Paul’s letter to the Galatians.

The Galatians are arguing about the law, specifically the Mosaic law, and how it did or did not apply to their life together as followers of Christ. This was particularly important to figure out, as the community was a mixture of gentiles and Jews. Many practical and pressing questions arose, which Paul addresses throughout the letter. Perhaps the most notable was the question of circumcision for the gentile believers, which Paul replies to in a significant way in the verses immediately before our reading. Throughout the whole letter, it seems, Paul references the idea of freedom in Christ and the gift that it gives to the church to live out her faith. In Chapter 5, though, Paul offers an even more detailed description that serves as a powerful definition of freedom.

For Paul, freedom is less about freedom from something, and more about a call to or for something else. He is quick to point out that the freedom won for believers in Christ is not just license to do whatever we please, but rather is something that brings us together. Mark Douglas describes it like this:

The idea that freedom means the absence of encumbrances may be popular but it does not hold weight. Freedom is not the absence of entanglements; entanglements are the means by which freedom becomes meaningful . . . Freedom is not separation from relationships; it is a feature of relationships that becomes especially apparent as a result of our relationships with Jesus Christ[ii].

Put simply, freedom draws us into community.  Galatians 5 describes more of what that looks like. The call to freedom, according to Paul, and according to Christ is a call to love. The word for love Paul uses is agape. And it’s a tall order.

This kind of love goes far beyond what the law demands. It is an all-encompassing way of life, constantly seeking to serve the neighbor[iii].

It is pure and self-less, an embraces a universal, unconditional love that transcends and persists regardless of circumstance. Agape love is the highest form of love that reflects the love God showed to the world through Jesus.

I have little doubt that Paul chose this word quite intentionally. In the midst of bickering and power struggles in the church in Galatia, Paul needed to do more than just call on the people to say they were sorry and play nicely with one another. He could have used the word philia for that, representing “brotherly love” of getting along. Instead, Paul pulls no punches in calling them out for their behavior toward each other and reminding them of the exceedingly high calling they have to each other as Christians. He is pointing them, and us, to the biggest picture possible about what it means to not just live together in coexistence, but to truly embrace the freedom given to us to live together in a community marked by Christ, a reflection of the kindom of God.

Paul knew such love wasn’t easy, and that humanity is prone to use our freedom to dominate others in systems of oppression rather than in systems that hold each other in this kind of mutual holy love. He addresses the baseness of our selves with a discussion of “the flesh,” which for Paul was a way of defining the motivating factor for our actions or inactions. For Paul, living by the flesh was a self-centered living, in direct opposition to the God-centered living a life guided by the Spirit would bring. And it doesn’t seem like there is much middle ground. He pushed the Galatians to pick a direction, arguing you can’t be both for yourself first and for God first. It just doesn’t work that way.

Sounds a little like Jesus, doesn’t it? Paul goes on to a direct quote with the inclusion of what Jesus himself put as the greatest commandment, to “love your neighbor as yourself.” That, for Paul, answers the questions about legalities that were being raised in the community. The whole law summed up for Paul is that we have been freed to love one another. And that means setting aside our own ambitions, our own desires to be first, and instead serve one another (ahem, we might add to this – as Christ served us).

This is our calling. To freedom. To love. It came to the disciples and those who followed Jesus; it came to the Galatians and virtually every other church community to whom Paul wrote; and it comes to us, still as relevant as it was in the first century. Two thousand and some years later, we as God’s people are still trying to figure out what it means to live into this freedom of grace that we were given by Jesus Christ. Over and over again, we fall into those traps of the “flesh,” and work ourselves into systems that only serve to bolster ourselves while others are oppressed; we become obsessed with who is “in” and who is “out” and argue over the rules for inclusion in our communities. This, I think, is one of those examples of corporate sin, which we participate in on different levels as individuals, but seems to be a reality of our communal existence here on earth. There are so many things in our world, so many examples, where we have fallen woefully short of our calling to freedom.

One in six children in the United States suffers from real hunger, not sure where there next meal will come from[iv]. According to Feeding America, 523,000 of them are in Georgia, including 10,000 in Cherokee County[v]. Our three school food pantries that serve 8 local schools served 151 children in the month of May with backpacks of food to help sustain students over the weekend. This summer, MUST Ministries is planning on serving 6,500-7,000 lunches every day to children in need in six counties in our area. That’s what we will be a part of helping with this afternoon. I am so glad that we are a part of what I believe is truly live-saving and life-changing mission ministry. But at the same time, I am appalled that we live in a world, in a country, in a state, in a community, where so many people are lacking one of life’s most basic needs. We can do better.

And what about a place to live. A total of 552,830 people, were experiencing homelessness on a single night in 2018, just under 10,000 of whom were counted in Georgia[vi]. Over 36,000 of those in the national count were youth. The Trevor Project estimates that around 40% of that number, about 14,400, are LGBTQ+ youth who have experienced discrimination and family rejection and have nowhere to go. This, among other factors, makes them 60% more likely to attempt suicide. This week marked 50 years since Stonewall led to a unified struggle for LGBTQ rights and freedom from fear of hatred, and it is far from realized. We can do better.

On that same night of counting, 37,878 of those experiencing homelessness were veterans[vii], a number slightly lower than the 40,000 estimated by the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD). That’s 11% of the homeless population, and the National Coalition for Homeless Veterans reports that within that group, 50% have serious mental health issues, including PTSD, 70% struggle with substance abuse, 51% have some sort of disability, and 50% are under the age of 50[viii]. Even with the good work of the VA and other organizations, those who have served our country, who have given their lives so that we can continue to claim “freedom,” are underserved and unappreciated on even the most basic level. We can do better.

Our southern border reflects an international humanitarian crisis. I have heard heartbreaking and gut-wrenching stories through organizations in Guatemala that reflect horrors no one should have to endure. From these, it is not difficult to see why families might be forced to flee for their very lives. I cannot even begin to imagine how desperate my life circumstances would have to be in order to risk everything for the hope of sheer survival, not just my own life, but that of my children. And yet, that is what is happening. And when this wave of asylum seekers comes pleading for assistance, we are ill-equipped and unable to handle such a cry from our neighbors. At least six children have died in federal custody[ix]. And the stories of the conditions in which they are living are reprehensible. My heart absolutely breaks at the thought of children being taken from their parents, and young children left to fend for themselves in large rooms with only aluminum foil-like blankets and concrete floors and constant light that prevents sleeping. In my house, either Matt or I tell a certain 5-year-old boy to either “brush his teeth” or “wash your hands . . . with soap” about 2 dozen times at minimum every day. Now, each time I do I have a knot in my stomach, because there are not only no parents to offer this reminder; there are no toothbrushes or soap. I appreciate that many things related to this are political, and we can agree or disagree on legalities and regulations and responses within our criminal justice system about how to approach immigration. But I also hope that we can agree that children, who have no more say in where they are taken than my own did this morning, should be kept safe and healthy. We can do better.

We have to do better.

If Paul were writing to us today, I think he could deliver much of the same message as he did to the Galatians, and to the church today he might say, “you were called to freedom for so much more than this! You were given freedom as a gift from God in order that you might love as Christ loved. So get with the program. You call yourselves Christians? Then live like it. Let love lead you. This is what it’s all about. Love your neighbor as yourself.”

In verse 25, Paul encourages us to both live and be guided by the Spirit. In these instances where the world is so far from where it should be, the Spirit stirs within us. It is the Spirit that nudges us, that creates in us an uneasiness and a hunger for justice that we cannot ignore. The Holy Spirit, that one let loose on the world at Pentecost, is a holy troublemaker that shakes everything up and makes it so that we cannot just continue with life as we know it. Us “decently and in order” Presbyterians will be glad to know that living by the Spirit isn’t code for some sort of loosey-goosey, anything goes kind of approach. The verb stoichomen has military connotations of standing in formation or marching in line. In other words, “since the Spirit leads us, let us keep in step with the Spirit.”

How do we keep step? Perhaps we could use the famous “fruits of the spirit” list Paul includes as a check-list of sorts for what happens when we live into freedom. In our discernment of what we are supposed to do next, what would happen if we asked ourselves: is this a response of love? Joy? Peace? Patience? Kindness? Generosity? Faithfulness? Gentleness? Self-control? I don’t know about you, but I imagine if I ran through this list every time I was trying to respond to a difficult situation or a difficult person, I might save myself from some less than stellar decisions, and my relationships with others would probably be a lot more loving.

Above all else, we as Christians are called to love, an agape love that models the kind of love God has for us. It is the basic fabric not just of our society, but of our understanding of what it means to follow Christ. The extent to which we live into this calling is in itself the measure of our discipleship. So, may we be so faithful and bold as to try to live into it each and every day. May we love our neighbors, and do nothing from selfish ambition, but instead mark our lives with love. For this is the freedom we have been given in Christ. This is what we are called to do. Amen.

 

Sermon preached by Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford

Heritage Presbyterian Church

June 30, 2019

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[i] Franklin Delano Roosevelt, “January 6, 1941, State of the Union (Four Freedoms),” https://millercenter.org/the-presidency/presidential-speeches/january-6-1941-state-union-four-freedoms, accessed 6/29/19. (both audio and written transcript available).

[ii] Mark Douglas, “Theological Perspective:Galatians 5:1, 13-25,” Feasting on the Word, Year C, Volume 3,  David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).

[iii] Elisabeth Johnson, “Commentary on Galatians 5:1, 13-25,” Working Preacher https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=612, accessed 6/27/19.

[iv] https://www.feedingamerica.org/hunger-in-america/child-hunger-facts

[v] https://patch.com/georgia/woodstock/thousands-cherokee-county-don-t-have-enough-eat

[vi] https://endhomelessness.org/homelessness-in-america/homelessness-statistics/state-of-homelessness-report/

[vii] https://endhomelessness.org/homelessness-in-america/homelessness-statistics/state-of-homelessness-report/

[viii] http://nchv.org/index.php/news/media/background_and_statistics/

[ix] https://www.latimes.com/nation/la-na-migrant-child-border-deaths-20190524-story.html

Sunday’s Sermon – Elevator Speeches – Luke 24:44-53; Ephesians 1:15-23

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Wear Sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it[i].

20 years ago, this spoken word piece by Baz Luhrmann dominated the radio waves as tassels were hung and mortarboards tossed. The original text came from a 1997 article in the Chicago Tribune by Mary Schimich, titled “Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young.” It was Schimich’s take on what she would say in a commencement speech if she were asked to give one, saying things like:

Don’t worry about the future or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra problem by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind – the kind that blindside you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday. . .

[and]

Accept certain inalienable truths

Prices will rise

Politicians will philander

You too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were young

Prices were reasonable

Politicians were noble

And children respected their elders.

Respect your elders[ii].

Both the article and lyrics are rich with poignant advice about growing older, laced with nostalgia and sort of a shaking head wisdom that youth are rarely going to heed such advice, but the speaker will give it anyway. This time of year, you may even listen to such a commencement address, or at least hear snippets and quotes here and there of what famous speakers are offering to the next generation of graduates. And sometimes, as Morehouse College graduates recently learned, these speeches can bring quite the big pay-off[iii].

Our text for today is a final address, given by Jesus at the end of Luke’s gospel. Chances are, though, if you’re asked for Jesus’ final words to his disciples, you’ll likely turn to the end of Matthew’s gospel, that Great Commission:

19 Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.[iv]

It’s a great send-off, right? Clear and concise instructions; a roadmap for how to be disciples.

Luke’s account, on the other hand, is frankly less memorable. It follows classic stories of Post-Resurrection appearances, notably the revelation of the risen Lord on the road to Emmaus. Our text for today is sort of tucked into the end, offering a bookend of Luke’s gospel before the transition into the second part of the evangelist’s narrative in the book of Acts. In this story we encounter the story of Jesus’ Ascension. It is a day marked on the liturgical calendar 40 days after Easter (which, in case you weren’t keeping count, was this past Thursday). For Luke, the Ascension is a key marker to connect the story of Jesus as the promises from the Hebrew scriptures fulfilled. It also serves to identify Jesus as a prophet, one who reveals an understanding of God’s word, and is indeed swept up into a cloud like Elijah. The symbolism would not have been lost on the audience in the first century. Like those around the table in Emmaus, their eyes would have been opened and they would have recognized Jesus as the Messiah. But, if Matthew’s Great Commission is the penultimate commencement address, what do we make of Luke’s parallel? I’d offer this morning that Luke’s gospel has Jesus giving an elevator speech.

Are you familiar with the phrase?

An elevator speech is a clear, brief message or “commercial” about you. It communicates who you are, what you’re looking for and how you can benefit a company or organization. It’s typically about 30 seconds, the time it takes people to ride from the top to the bottom of a building in an elevator. (The idea behind having an elevator speech is that you are prepared to share this information with anyone, at anytime, even in an elevator.) . . . This elevator speech is: •absolutely not longer than 25 to 30 seconds •or – in words – approximately 80 to 90 words •or – in sentences – 8 to 10 sentences[v].

The American Library Association notes that:

An elevator speech [is] a message intended to spur decision makers to action. An elevator speech must be short, specific, and memorable. It is important to have your elevator speech rehearsed and ready because you never know when you’ll have an opportunity to use it![vi]

I would offer that in his final moments with his disciples, with the “elevator going up” if you’ll allow it, that Jesus maximized his final moments in this style in order to inspire his disciples into action. The ALA goes on further to give a guide for crafting such a speech, one we see reflected in Luke’s gospel account.

First, the message; what do you need your audience to know. This is where our text begins today, as Jesus opens their minds to the entirety of the Scriptures. Ok, so it’s a pretty big message, but the key here I think is that, echoing the experience on the Emmaus road, the disciples begin to understand what is going on, something that is radically new to their experience of discipleship. Light bulbs begin to go off, and we might imagine them nodding along, perhaps for the first time with a glimmer of understanding about what all of this means.

Second, the story and key data; connect the message specifically to your work, with a quick fact/data and story. Jesus gets to the point with a recap of the resurrection, and perhaps most importantly, the good news of the forgiveness of sins that should be proclaimed. The bottom line according to Jesus? Grace.

Third, the ALA would have you make an Ask; consider who you are talking to, what they care about, and what it is within their power to impact. Make a specific request. Jesus names those gathered as “witnesses to these things.” He promises them that the power of the Holy Spirit is coming to enable them to do this work, and instructs them to wait for it (spoiler alert- they only have to wait about 10 days – we’ll get there next Sunday on Pentecost). And when the time comes, they are to proclaim this good news to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem.

There you have it – an elevator speech – short, personal, and memorable. As William Herzog II notes:

Up to this point Luke has been concerned with reinterpreting the Scriptures in the light of Jesus. Now his focus shifts to the outcome of Jesus’ ministry – the mission that the disciples will conduct in his name . . . The blessing occurs in Bethany. It is as though the risen Lord took the disciples to the trail head that would lead to the Gentile mission.

In this speech, Jesus reminds the disciples, after all that has happened, about what really matters, so that they might grab hold of it and continue his mission.

In the Roald Dahl classic book, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, the candyman Willy Wonka takes some of the characters in a magical glass elevator. He explains that this is no ordinary elevator – it can go any direction the heart desires. At the very end of the book, when only Charlie and Grandpa Joe are left, the elevator breaks through the ceiling of the Chocolate Factory, giving them a view of the entire factory and city. From the sky, things can appear clearer. Wonka asks Charlie if he liked all that he has seen and experienced with him, and Charlie enthusiastically agrees. Then, the big reveal comes: Charlie is going to be Wonka’s successor. Everything will belong to him, and he will carry on what Wonka began.  Big things can happen on an elevator ride.

In these final verses in Luke’s gospel, Jesus takes his disciples up in the elevator, and then opens the doors for them to go out into the world. Because that’s what you do when the elevator ride ends. You get off at your floor! And, if the elevator speech has been done well, it will impact the steps you take next. Perhaps that’s why Jesus had to ascend; so that the disciples would start making connections on their own, living out the faith he had shown them, rather than just following along somewhat mindlessly and clueless. Here, Jesus is inviting them to continue exhibiting the reign of God in the world. It’s quite the offer, isn’t it?

It came to the disciples long ago, and it comes to us today. As those who have heard the good news and experienced the presence of Christ, what would we share with others on an elevator ride? Would we dare to share the gospel? May it be so. Amen.

sermon preached by Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford

Heritage Presbyterian Church, June 2, 2019

 

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[i] “Everybody’s Free (to Wear Sunscreen)” by Baz Luhrmann

[ii] Ibid.

[iii] https://www.ajc.com/news/just-morehouse-commencement-speaker-pay-off-class-2019-student-loans/XvMHlS1SVyJiG3mRp1WOWL/

[iv] Matthew 28:19-20, New Revised Standard Version

[v] http://sfp.ucdavis.edu/files/163926.pdf

[vi] http://www.ala.org/advocacy/advocacy-university/school-library-resources/elevator-speech

Sunday’s Sermon – Roses and Thorns – Luke 6:17-26

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Chances are, if you are a part of a mission trip or youth conference group, the end of you day brings everyone together for conversation. It is an opportunity to unwind a bit and debrief your experience as a group. Reflections are shared and the activities of the day are put into context a bit. Often this time begins with going around sharing about the day. One way to frame it is for everyone to share one positive thing and one challenging thing about the day. Sometimes it’s called highs and lows, but my favorite iteration is “roses and thorns,” which brings the reminder that even within the same flower of a day, there is beauty to behold as well as prickly things that might take you by surprise.

In today’s gospel verses, we find a short series of roses and thorns as described by Jesus to his disciples and the crowd who had gathered around. In Luke’s gospel, they are described as “blessings” and “woes.” They are a part of a lengthy sermon that is paralleled in Matthew’s gospel as well. Rather than the 107 verses we hear in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew, Luke’s gospel has Jesus only giving a 32-verse sermon known as the Sermon on the Plain. These verses might sound familiar as they are echoes of the well-known Beatitudes in Matthew 6, although here Luke puts a different spin on things.

First, he identifies the blessings, or the roses. He identifies the poor, the hungry, the weeping, those who are excluded and persecuted. If these examples strike you as odd, you’re not alone. They are far from a typical list of blessings. Often we associate the word “blessing” with happiness or good fortune. But in the Greek, makarios holds a bit deeper of a meaning. It is beyond the superficial or even material possessions; it is a word more closely connected to the first-century sense of unity with God in an eternal sense, relating to righteousness and being in right relationship with our creator.  Fred Craddock says that:

These statements are performative; that is to say, the words have power and perform or make true the kinds of life presented in the statements. Jesus is making the official proclamation of the way life is inside and outside the reign of God[i].

To be “blessed,” meant living in a keen awareness of the presence of God. It is not to be free from struggle, but to be oriented towards a reality where God’s realm is realized. In each of these blessings, the struggle comes with a promise of reversal: the hungry will be filled, the weeping will give way to laughter. These promises echo the song of hope Mary sang in Luke 1, with a complete reversal of fortunes for the rich and poor, the powerful and the powerless, the full and the empty.

Luke’s words are grounded in present reality, and our responses to them should be as well. Thomas Frank offers that it is notable that Luke’s location is different than Matthew’s. In Matthew, we see Jesus taking his disciples to the mountaintop, looking down on the world around them and giving them the big picture. But in Luke, Jesus is on the plain with them. His words are simple, straightforward and concrete. One translation of the location is that he is “on the level,” which hints that this conversation from Luke’s perspective is about Jesus being squarely in step with the realities of our human existence, and speaking plainly to us about it. He looks up to the disciples and the crowd with these statements:

as if to say, what are you doing right this minute? People are sick and dying right here, tormented by spirits. . . Will you get down here with me and help?[ii]

In these verses, Jesus is “on the level” with us, telling us the truth of our lives as he sees us, and confronting us with our responsibility to be a part of God’s kingdom with our response to what we see in the world.

God calls us to be a part of the kind of kingdom that Christ modeled. Immediately prior to these verses, Jesus is surrounded by crowds seeking healing, which he offers. Throughout the gospel, particularly in Luke, we find Jesus attending to the very real needs of the poor and suffering. We see Jesus acting with love and compassion in a powerful ministry of presence, and calling his disciples to do the same.  We can reach out to those who are hungry, that they might be filled, whether that is through a mobile food pantry next Saturday, or backpacks for children who might not have anything in their pantries at home. We can offer comfort to those who weep, by reaching out with phone calls, cards, or visits and offering friendship and care that gives way to laughter. These are ways we can live into the blessings that Christ teaches, plain and simple.

This would be challenge enough, but the gospel pushes us even farther, as Luke punctuates these blessings with 4 corresponding statements of “woes.” These are the thorns; examples given of things that are soon to be upended. These woes, unique to Luke, are tough ones to hear, particularly if we find that they are descriptive of us. Jesus, speaking quite freely and plainly, calls the audience and us, out of our complacency and away from the safety and security of our laurels that we rest upon, and says that the reign of God, here and now, is about something more than just our own accomplishments. In fact, these accomplishments might just be our undoing.

I think Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase of these verses in The Message helps get at the meaning of these verses well. He puts verses 24 through 26 like this:

            But it’s trouble ahead if you think you have it made.
What you have is all you’ll ever get.

And it’s trouble ahead if you’re satisfied with yourself.

Your self will not satisfy you for long.
And it’s trouble ahead if you think life’s all fun and games,

There’s suffering to be met, and you’re going to meet it.

“There’s trouble ahead when you live only for the approval of others, saying what flatters them, doing what indulges them. Popularity contests are not truth contests—look how many scoundrel preachers were approved by your ancestors! Your task is to be true, not popular. (The Message, Luke 6:24-26)

To be the most faithful to the gospel, I’d offer, Luke calls us to step aside from our preconceived notions of being blessed, and be willing to embrace the kind of upside-down reversals that Jesus presents. Luke’s version of the Beatitudes is meant to startle us out of our complacency and inspire us to action. As David Ostendorf notes:

God does not take kindly to half-heartedness. God does not bless us as we maintain the status quo, reaping the accolades of those who hear us and follow us. God does not bless us as we bathe in respectability in the eyes of the world. God does not bless us as we quietly maintain tradition and gloss over or ignore prophetic voices calling us back to God – in the church and in the world. God does not bless us as we protect and build institutions and empires. God does not bless us, well off, full, comfortable, hearty, and well-spoken of[iii].

These four pairings, blessings and woes, roses and thorns, challenge us to look at our lives and our world with new eyes. They challenge us to clarify our values and examine what are the things in life that we will take a stand for in relation to faithful living. Packed into these verses are very real instructions for the disciples, including those of us who claim to follow Christ today, to reorient our relationships and reverse the social, economic, and political injustices that surround us so that we might live most fully into the reign of God here and now.

In the 1930s, church leaders in Germany had such an opportunity. As Adolph Hitler rose to power he capitalized on fear to abolish rights and democratic processes. Many took the union of Christianity, nationalism, and militarism for granted, and patriotic sentiments were equated with Christian truth that quickly led to calls for a racially pure nation with Hitler’s rule as God’s will for the German people. But some resisted this trend, including several pastors and theologian Karl Barth. After meeting regionally, they gathered representatives of Lutheran, Reformed, and United churches in Gemarke Church, Barmen, in the city of Wupperthal at the end of May 1934. 139 delegates, including ordained ministers, church members, and university professors, made a declaration to appeal to the Evangelical churches of Germany to reject the German Christian accommodation to National Socialism and proclaim instead the church’s freedom in Jesus Christ who is Lord of every area of life.  They made 6 assertions, all based in Scripture, to present a statement of faith that would call the church to faithfulness to the gospel once again. We will use part of it as our Affirmation of Faith later this morning. The document helped unify the church in belief and renew faithfulness against an otherwise popular message that they believed was a threat to the gospel itself. The Declaration of Barmen is almost a modern blessings and woes, proclaiming what the reign of God should be, and firmly taking a stand against that which would threaten the very gospel Jesus proclaimed. It, along with others in our Book of Confessions, particularly the Confession of 1967 and the Belhar Confession, are one way the church collectively seeks to be a prophetic voice to the world, all grounded in an understanding of the vision Christ presented on the plain for the kingdom of God to break into the world.

And, in the end, that is what the Beatitudes call us to – a better understanding of what it looks like for God to reign, a God who sees all of God’s creation as beloved and blessed and calls us to be in a community that models such a perspective. These words from Luke are not a gospel of comfort, but a gospel of challenge to embrace the world with the love and eyes of Jesus. Woe to those of us who miss the opportunity to be a part of such a world. Blessed be the ones who are able to live in the upside-down world of God, for them the kindom of God is revealed. Amen.

~sermon by Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford, Heritage Presbyterian Church, February 17, 2019

________________________________________________________________________________

[i] Fred B. Craddock, Interpretation: Luke, (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1990)

[ii] Thomas Edward Frank, “Pastoral Perspective: Luke 6:17-26,” Feasting on the Gospels: Luke, Volume 1, Cynthia A. Jarvis and E. Elizabeth Johnson, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2014).

[iii] David L. Ostendorf, “Theological Perspective: Luke 6:17-26,” Feasting on the Word, Year C Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009).

Sunday’s Sermon – Sharing Our Stories – John 20:30-31, 21:25

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What’s your story? If you often meet new people, chances are you have figured out a way to answer the question “tell us a little bit about yourself” in a somewhat succinct way. In conferences and retreats, I’ve had leaders instruct us to find a partner and each spend 1-2 minutes telling our life story to each other. It seems both a really long time, and not nearly enough time to get it all in, so you’re forced to pick and choose what is the most important to you, at least for that moment in time.

Everyone has a story to tell. The stories we tell are reflections of who we have been, who we are today, and who we want to be. Telling them matters. Listening to them matters even more. Herbert Anderson and Edward Foley say:

Stories make claims on our minds and hearts, often before we know why or how . .. Stories hold us together and keep us apart. We tell stories in order to live . . . Stories are privileged and imaginative acts of self-interpretation[i].

As people of God, we are a storytelling people. From the very beginning, God’s story has been told. Our text from Deuteronomy 6 reminds us of this rich heritage. Immediately following the reading of the Ten Commandments this is what they are to do: pass the story on. It’s important. Tell it not just to your children, but to your children’s children. This is what will help you prosper and have life. These are sacred words and instructions. Keep them close to you. Bind them to your very person so they are always close at hand, a tangible reminder of the God who brought you out of slavery in Egypt and is still with you today. For the people of Israel, wandering in the wilderness, this is a particularly important reminder. They are away from their homes, from all that they know, uncertain of their future. In these challenging times, they turn to the stories of their faith to remind them of God’s presence. For a displaced people, it is the stories that kept them going and kept them alive, connected to their homeland and looking forward to the promise of a better tomorrow.

Storytelling is the basis of our written Scriptures, which began as oral traditions that eventually made their way to parchment and paper and now pixels on a smartphone. But regardless of how they are transmitted, the Gospel of John spells out the reason for these books – they are written so that we might believe and have life in Jesus’ name. The Bible is God’s Story. Each time we open its pages, we dive into the incredible witness of Scripture from beginning to end. We are captivated by the creative energy and careful guidance of Israel. We are startled by prophetic proclamations. We are humbled and rejoice in the example and teachings of Jesus and the powerful good news of Christ’s death and resurrection. We see how the early church wrestled with how to be disciples in a changing world. Our exploration of the Bible, though, is not just an advanced literature or history course. These stories weren’t just written to be taken as factual footnotes or a narrative resume for the Divine. Rather, they were written so that they would have an impact on us. They are stories to captivate our hearts, our souls, our minds, and to prompt us into action.

The Bible is God’s story. The Bible is also our story. When we study it, we learn about people of faith throughout the centuries. We may even discover people like us – the stories of Scripture include an assortment of characters – poor and rich, young and old, male and female, hopeful and cynical – and God works through them all. Like the people in Scripture, we too have our stories of faith. They are moments where we have come to know who God is in profound ways, times when we have wrestled with angels and demons and struggled to understand, when we have rested in God’s presence or in the comfort of God’s embrace as we wept, and when we have danced for joy in the presence of the Lord. They are our stories of faith.

God’s story so powerful, so incredible, so important, that we have to gather together to tell it to each other. That’s what worship is each week – an opportunity to retell God’s story to each other, and to celebrate how God’s story has intersected with ours. Through worship, we can interpret our stories in light of the story of Jesus and God’s overwhelming love for us. We can better make sense of our own stories and of the stories of the world, and we can rest and trust in the author of our stories, giving praise to a God who is the alpha and omega, the beginning and end of all stories.

When our stories and God’s story intersects, discipleship is the result. Living a life of faith means living into God’s stories and making them our own. It begins with studying them, reading and talking about them to the point that they become woven into your very being. For many this happens with a favorite story of verse, such as Psalm 23, that comes quickly to the surface when we are in need of comfort or reassurance. But the more we engage in our understanding of God’s story, the more readily these stories will come to us in a variety of circumstances, both challenging and celebratory. And, perhaps even more important than a litany of memory verses, we begin to embody the values and ideals God exemplifies and encourages in these texts. We become storytellers.

This fall, a large part of our visioning process is helping tell the stories of our lives and the life and ministry of this congregation. The reflections in worship two weeks ago, along with upcoming opportunities for conversations, help us think about where we have been and who we are now, in order to imagine who God is calling us to be. Visioning is about continuing to write the story, and when it is done well, we remember that it is not just a story of our own design; it is God’s story, too.

God’s stories are begging to be told, not just by the preacher on a Sunday morning, but by each and every one of us day in and day out as we seek to be a part of God’s story. So this morning, we’re going to get a little practice. I invite you to take a few moments to collect your thoughts, then find a friend (or two or three) and spend some time sharing a story of your faith. You can use the questions in your bulletin insert as a guide if you like. It can be as simple as your favorite Bible story or verse and why it matters to you. It can be a time when you have felt particularly close or particularly far from God. It can be a story of your past, your present, or even a story you hope for in your future. Whatever your story is, I invite you to share it with someone else today. This is just a taste or sample of what it is like, of course – try to only speak for a few minutes to allow others to have a turn – but perhaps it’s a practice we can engage in more regularly as a community of God’s people. As we explore God’s Story, let’s share it and our own stories with each other. Because when we do, we will be a witness to a living and active God, who continues to write all of our stories – even today, even now. This is God’s Story. This is Our Story. May it continue to unfold. Amen.

From bulletin insert: Sharing Our Stories
Consider these questions about your faith story:
• What is one of your favorite memories of church or experiences in faith?
• Who helped you learn about God on your faith journey?
• Where is a time or place you have felt closest to God?
• What are some of your favorite Bible stories or verses?
• What is one puzzling question you have about God or faith?

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
September 23, 2018

 

[i] Herbert Anderson and Edward Foley, Mighty Stories, Dangerous Rituals: Weaving Together the Human and the Divine. (San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass, 1998).

Sunday’s Sermon – What’s In A Name? – Mark 8:27-30

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Preparing to have a child is full of a ton of decisions, and endless questions from friends, family, doctors, even strangers in the check-out line. As the due date gets closer, one becomes more common – “what are you going to name him?” Of all the decisions you make, naming your child can be one of the most difficult. Do you pick a name that reflects names that run in the family? Are you looking for a name that is traditional, trendy, or totally unique? Will you name your child after a fruit or vegetable? What kind of nicknames might come from this name? Is it going to sound right with your last name, or give your little on an awkward set of initials? It’s easy to overthink this, but also get stuck in a lot of places. And that’s without the commentary other people are bound to give if you share your name early. Even in modern society, naming has a lot of pressure; this is the name that likely will reflect and maybe shape your child’s identity for the rest of their life. It is one of the first things that we share about a baby’s arrival, and it’s kind of a big deal. Like in the opening sequence of the movie The Lion King, when all the animals come to Pride Rock as “The Circle of Life” plays, and Rafiki lifts up the little lion cub, presenting “Simba” to the entire kingdom. It is dramatic and full of meaning, not just for the one being named, but for the whole community.

The opening verses of Mark’s gospel are a similar proclamation, as the evangelist says “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. (Mark 1:1)” In this, he makes a bold assertion, a royal proclamation if you will, that this is not just any ordinary person or story. This is Jesus Christ, christos in the Greek, which means “anointed one” and would have connections with the anointing of kings in ancient Israel. “Christ” is not a last name for Jesus; it is a proclamation of his identity, and shapes everything in the story that follows. The next eight chapters in Mark demonstrate a flyover of Jesus’ ministry along the sea and in the wilderness, full of stories of healings and miracles. Along the way, we hear the buzz among the people of Galilee. Jesus casts out an unclean spirit and they ask “who is this?” (1:27). He tells the paralytic that his sins are forgiven and the religious leaders question his authority, for “who can forgive but God alone?” (2:1-12). Jesus speaks in the storm and the disciples wonder “who is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” (4:41).

Halfway through the gospel, these murmurs turn from a quiet buzz to a direct question, a hinge in the narrative that shifts everything in the verses we read just a few moments ago as Jesus is on the way to Caesarea Philippi. This time, it is Jesus who asks the question. First, he inquires about what people are saying about him and his identity, almost as if testing the waters of gossip. The disciples answer with reports that indicate the overall reception of Jesus up to this point by the community, each with a significance that hints at a bigger answer.

In chapter 6, Herod Antipas is alarmed that Jesus is John the Baptist, which is a startling revelation for Herod just had him beheaded, so this would indicate he had risen from the dead. Resurrection would shake the very foundations of whomever was in power. Others said Elijah, which would have brought hope in Jewish hearts aching for God’s promised Messiah, as many expected Elijah’s presence to be a necessary prerequisite to a messianic appearance. Elijah is only one of two in the Hebrew scriptures who did not die, but was taken to be with God directly, and in a mighty fashion with a chariot of fire. But perhaps he was a prophet, which would have given reassurance to the people that God had not abandoned them, even though the people in the 1st century were under Roman occupation and did not have their own king from the line of David[i]. All of these hinted at the expectations the people of God had for their redeemer and Savior. And yet, none were quite right. So Jesus pointedly asks again, “Who do you say that I am?”

He’s not looking for the textbook answer. As Andre Resner notes:

[Jesus] demands that they answer from their core. They cannot rely on hearsay – gossip theology – from politicians or theologians. They must take a personal stand[ii].

Of course, Peter is ready and quick to answer. He repeats the label given to readers in the very first verse of Mark’s gospel: “You are the christos,” the Messiah. All of the hopes and expectations for centuries of God’s people are met in this word.

Ding! Ding! Ding! We might expect a round of applause, gold star, or some other award. But what follows is the opposite. They’re told not to tell anyone about him. This is known as the “Messianic Secret,” and is a repeated instruction throughout the gospel. It’s not because they necessarily get the title wrong, but because even with the right answer, they don’t fully comprehend what it means. In the verses that follow these, Jesus describes what is to come, and dismantles the idea that the Messiah will overthrow everything in a blaze of glory. God’s power and authority is not going to look like they expect it to look. Instead it is a story that continues to Jerusalem and the cross.

His question isn’t looking to boost his own ego at the midpoint in the gospel, or determine the disciples’ approval rating of his ministry. It isn’t a test. Instead, as Dr. Karoline Lewis offers, this question posed to the disciples is:

It’s the moment when you come face-to-face with your own commitment, your own discipleship, your own identity. It’s the moment when you have to admit to what extent how you follow Jesus actually connects with some sort of confession of who you believe Jesus to be.

. . .

“Who do you say that I am?” is at the same time, “who will you say that you are?” That’s the rub of this question, the heart of its difficulty. If it we only had to provide an answer to Jesus’ question of his identity, that would be one thing. However, answering the question of Jesus’ identity is also having to give voice to our own[iii].

What was true for the disciples then is true for us today. If we claim Jesus to be the Christ, the Messiah, our Lord and Savior, then we are also asserting something bold about who we are choosing to be. And, even like Peter in his enthusiasm, in our eagerness to call ourselves Christian, we might not always slow down enough to think about all that it actually means. Wrapped in this question is a renewed invitation to discipleship. It is Jesus again standing at the shoreline, asking the disciples to follow him. And hearing it today offers us the opportunity to renew our own sense of discipleship as those who claim Jesus as Christ. We might ask ourselves what difference it makes for us to claim Jesus is the one in whom all of our hopes are realized. Does it make a difference in your life to profess this faith? How? Are we living as those who have truly been transformed by the good news of the Messiah, or are we just giving Jesus the head nod and going about our lives.  Are our choices reflective of the faith we profess? This is what is asked as Jesus turns to us and says “Who do YOU say that I am?” It is a powerful moment for each of us to consider.

It is also beyond just our own individual relationships with Christ. If you look closer at his question, the word “you” actually is plural. Jesus isn’t asking for personal responses of allegiance from the disciples. He is asking for a collective understanding. Southern vernacular helps us articulate it better. In this passage, Jesus is asking: “Who do y’all” or perhaps better “all y’all” say that I am? It is a convicting statement for “the church” in many ways, and is one we should be answering continually as a community of faith. And I think we are seeking to do that here. In fact, I can name three ways it’s happening in our context right now.

At the 8:30 service, we affirm the Spirit’s call to Lisa Wolfgang to serve our congregation as a deacon. Part of her ordination vows is to affirm her faith, including a profession of Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, and in response we promise our support and prayers for her leadership along with our other officers. The ordination vows, which all elders, deacons, and ministers of word and sacrament make in the PC(USA), remind us of who we are called to be as those who claim Jesus as the Messiah. They talk about being faithful to the holy Scriptures, attentive to God’s guidance, respecting one another and seeking to live in peace, purity and unity. They call us to serve with energy, intelligence, imagination, and love. What a wonderful list of what it means to live into our faith!

At the 11:00 service, we have the joy of celebrating the sacrament of Baptism, our reminder that we are claimed as Christ’s own forever. Shelby’s parents, Drew and Kasey, will profess their faith in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, and immediately follow with a promise to raise her in that faith. Furthermore, we as a congregation make a promise to teach and support her on behalf of the entire Christian church, so that she may grow up to come to know the grace and love of God through Jesus Christ. Baptism reminds us that claiming Jesus as Christ not only proclaims grace and forgiveness, but places us in the context of a community who encourages and nurtures each other throughout our entire journey of faith. This is what it means to be a Christian, too.

Finally, many of you took part in our visioning process which launched last Sunday. There is still time to respond to our initial questions, from a written survey that’s available in the Narthex, to large pieces of paper for your notes near the coffee area, to the link that is available in this month’s newsletter or on our Facebook page. Our Visioning Team will begin its work with these responses, and coming soon will invite you to participate in further face-to-face conversations about who God is calling us to be as a congregation. Throughout this process, together we will be answering the question Jesus asked his disciples in Mark, professing who it is we believe Christ to be, and who we are called to be in response to that affirmation of faith.

And really, that’s what being the church is all about. Making sure that we hear that question from Jesus, put some time and energy into our answer, and then make sure the response we give is not just lip service, but reflected in the lives we lead as his disciples. Christ, or Messiah, has to be a name that makes a difference for us, both as individuals and as a community of faith. Otherwise, we’ve missed the point. So even as we blurt out our initial answer, Jesus calls us to pause for a moment, and think about all it means, for us and for the world. For what is in Jesus’ name? Everything. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
September 16, 2018

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[i] Summarizing Andre Resner, “Homiletical Perspective: Mark 8:27-30,” Feasting on the Gospels: Mark, Cynthia A. Jarvis and E. Elizabeth Johnson, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2014).
[ii] Ibid.
[iii] Karoline Lewis, “Who Do You Say That I Am?” Dear Working Preacher, September 16, 2018, https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5220, accessed 9/13/2018

Sunday’s Sermon – Listen. Look. Arise. – Song of Solomon 2:8-17

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Imagine for a moment, life before Caller ID. The phone would ring, and you would not know who it was. So, you’d answer, and moments later some sort of greeting would come from the voice on the other end. I remember calling my grandfather, and how there would always be a slight pause after I chirped “Hi Paw-Paw!” I could hear him smile on the other end, and the warmth in the tone of his voice carried across the line. “Well, Elizabeth Kaye” he would always say, using my full name more often than not. It was more than just a cursory interaction to get conversation going; it was a moment of discovery and shared connection. He knew my voice. Whose voices do you recognize without a name on a screen or their face in front of you – parents? a best friend? I’ve found that even without seeing, I can pretty quickly determine whether a crying child belongs to me or not. Even the youngest infants will turn at a mother’s voice.  Our ears seem trained on some voices, whether by instinct or simply hearing them more often.

Today’s text from the Song of Solomon begins with such a warm connection, as the poet hears the voice of her beloved, bounding in her direction. This book, not often one read from the pulpit, is a beautiful poetic masterpiece tucked into our Biblical canon, offering a sensual and profound reflection on one of life’s greatest gifts – love. The lyrics are descriptive and erotic, celebrating physical aspects of love and affection that may even make us blush when read, but laid out before us without shame. Instead, in this book we find a celebration of love the way it is meant to be, marked by passion and the sensuality of nature alongside mutual and reciprocal affection filled with delight.

Throughout the centuries of biblical interpretation, people of God have wrestled with what to make of it. Some have wondered if these are more historical poems referring to an actual human couple, such as Solomon, to whom the book is attributed, and a peasant bride. Contemporary scholars have offered that perhaps these are more anonymous secular ones, noting the similarities in style and function to Egyptian, Arabic, and Syrian love poems from around the same time. The most classic interpretation, is that it seems to serve as a masterful allegory of God’s love for Israel, although like the book of Esther, it never mentions the name of God directly. This morning, I’d like to offer a thought that resonated with me this week: rather than trying to draw a distinction between history and allegory, perhaps they aren’t really that different after all in relation to this book helping us better understand love – both in our relationships with others and in our relationship with God.  Julia O’Brien notes that the lives of the soul and of the body are not that distinct, saying:

To be in love is to live beyond the boundaries of the self and to enter a realm of sheer delight, in which the human and divine can merge. Human love both allows us to celebrate God through our bodies and educates us in loving and being loved . . . [Song of Solomon] celebrates and perhaps even creates the feelings of passionate desiring and knowing oneself to be passionately desired. While loving and being loved are not the only goals of human existence, they can be transformative experiences that not only lead us to praise the One who makes joy possible but also exercise our capacities for love. Glimpsing oneself not as perfect but perfect for someone, wanted, sought after, is a cause for singing both secular love songs and hymns[i].

This passage in particular invites us into the joyful anticipation of being connected – to nature, to one another, and to God. It is a song of hope, brimming with energy, inspiring us to enter a new season of being in the world where we might be transformed by the renewing power of love, be it human or divine. How fitting to come to this text on the cusp of the beginning of fall and at a time in our church year when several new things are springing up around us. Next week, we will celebrate another beginning of learning and growing together in faith, and at the same time launch a longer visioning process in which we hope to be attentive to God’s guidance for our congregation in the future. Today’s verses prepare us for such a new vision and fresh start, with encouragement for how we might best engage with each other and with God in the process. It can be summarized in 3 verbs that almost outline our text: Listen, Look, and Arise.

Listen. That is what catches our attention, along with the poetess, at the beginning of the passage. Listening implies a certain posture of readiness; not being so self-involved or fixated on a task at hand that we become oblivious to the world around us. To listen to another person is one of the greatest gifts we can give one another. Rather than just waiting to insert our opinion, when we are truly listening, we are setting our own egos aside and are fully engrossed in accepting the gift of what someone else has to say to us. In a moment, our listening affirms that person’s self and says “I care about you. I’m here.” It is the most powerful relationship tool we can have with each other, yet it is one of the most difficult ones to maintain in the midst of all the noise around us.

In the case of our faith, listening for God’s voice can feel like a daunting task. It is awkward and confusing as we try to discern which is God’s voice and which are the voices around us. Nevertheless, we are called to listen for it, attentively, prayerfully. To do so well means engaging in a deep relationship with our Creator. The more we spend time in conversation with God, otherwise known as prayer, and the more we engage with God’s Word as revealed in Scripture, the sooner we begin to pick up on the whispers of God’s voice around us. Listening, with those we love, and with God, is an activity marked by relationship. Even before we are able to see what is coming, we hear the voice of our beloved.

When this happens, we cannot help but look. Our energy picks up and we begin to scan the horizon in anticipation of love’s light breaking through. Words evoke a vision for what could be. In this poem, it is clear that things have been difficult, but those days are no longer, “for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone” (verse 11). Such words imply that what has been spoken is not just sweet nothings or platitudes, but hope that springs even from dry places. It implies the reality of those things in life that keep us shut in and frozen, or looking out at dreary skies once again with lament. While it should be noted that any one relationship should not be the be-all-end-all of our happiness, it is certainly true that the love we share with others has the potential to turn even our worst days around. What is more, being connected with others helps us look in new directions. How often has a friend comforted you and helped you see things in a more positive way, or work through something? Or perhaps there has been tough-love, when a loved one forces you to take a hard look at some things that are not good for you or those around you. To look as a follow up of listening means that we truly “see” one another, not just on a surface level, but in deep real ways that encompass the whole spectrum of emotions and experiences. Looking involves both an awareness of the past, an honest analysis of the present, and even the ability to begin to imagine the possibilities of the future. It is seeing things as they have been and are, but in a way that is mindful they don’t always have to be that way.

For the people of God hearing these words from Song of Solomon, there may have also been a deep longing for a restored relationship with the Divine. When all else seems to have failed, we too search the horizons for signs of hope and promise. Looking is also discovering the possibilities and beauty in the world. When we look in this way, we engage in an appreciation of the amazing work of our Creator. It is no surprise that this poem is rich with images of nature – it is one way we glimpse the love of God for us, and all of the world. To take the pleasure in looking is to revel in God’s glory, and to open ourselves to God’s vision for the world, as it is, and as it should be.

Together, listening and looking lead us into a new vision – for our relationships with others, and for our relationship with the Divine. They draw us into authentic, intimate encounters in ways that transform us, and become an invitation for a new way of being in the world. Arise, repeated several times in the poem, is our summons to not just hear and see from a distance, but participate in the new creation that is springing forth. It reminds us that for love to be fully personified it must be acted upon. We cannot just assign it some words and paint verbal pictures of the beauty of nature. We must engage it with our whole selves and act.

This is the message of James in a nutshell, captured in the verses that accompany our poem in the lectionary. They remind us that in our lives and in our faith, it is not enough to simply think or say that we believe something. Our faith has to lead us to action if it is to be alive and true.

Listen. Look. Arise. These are the markers of strong, committed, intimate relationships. When we practice them, as individuals and community, they lead us to a rhythm of life marked by love and faith. They become our way of live, interwoven with creation, with each other, and with our Creator, and our lives will be richer as a result. A new season is coming. May these words, and the Word of God, lead us into it and into the new possibilities it contains, so that our lives ring out with poetry and song. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
September 2, 2018

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[i] Julia M. O’Brien, “Exegetical Perspective: Song of Solomon 2:8-13,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009).

Food Pantry

Food distribution has been changed to the 1st Saturday of the month at 10:00 am and the 3rd Wednesday of the month at 12:30 pm.

The next Drive-Up Food Pantry is scheduled for Saturday, May 3 at 10 am.  Accurate pre-registration is strongly encouraged to ensure volunteers pack accordingly.
Please sign- up here!

For other pantry locations, go here
or text “FINDFOOD” to 888-976-2232

Church News

Volunteers are needed to help pack family boxes on Monday, April 27th and Monday, May 19th at 10 am in the Fellowship Hall. We welcome all volunteers.  

Food Pantry distribution volunteer opportunity Saturday, May 3 registration here!

Worship Live Streaming and archives can be found by clicking the appropriate link under the worship tab.

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Upcoming Events

Worship

Sunday Schedule

9:00 AM
Responding in Faith Sunday School Class
     via Zoom with Barbara Jessee

9:15 AM
Bible University Sunday School Class
    with Dr. Tom Scott
Hybrid format (in-person & via Zoom)

Connections Sunday School Class
with Mark Bixler
Hybrid format (in-person & via Zoom)

Youth Bible Study (Room 8) 6- 12th grade

Kids Club – (Room 7)
Biblically-based Faith Formation Activities for Preschool – 5th Grade
Praise Kids Music on the 3rd Sunday of the month.

10:30 AM
In-Person Worship and Livestreamed via   YouTube.

Youth Group – the first and third Sunday of the month from 5-7 pm during the school year.