discipleship – Page 3

Sunday’s Sermon – Purpose-Driven – Exodus 20:1-17, John 2:13-22

February 25, 2018 Leave a Comment

How would you define your purpose in life? Do you have a personal credo or mantra that defines how you approach the world? Some take on a particular verse in scripture, or favorite inspirational quote, in order to give themselves a sense of focus for both big life decisions and daily interactions with the world. At the beginning of January, many of you drew a “star word” on Epiphany, meant to inspire and lead you throughout this year (if you have lost yours, or did not get one, the basket is sitting in the Narthex today).

If you are a part of a group, you might see it written out in particular phrases or mission statements. Scouting is a wonderful example of this practice, some of which you heard shared this morning[i]. These core values and ideals promoted by Scouting provide a solid framework of what it means to be a compassionate, thoughtful participant in the world. They are strong words to live by.

As a community of faith here at Heritage Presbyterian Church, we proclaim words of purpose each week on the cover of our bulletin through our church’s mission statement: “called by God’s grace to make disciples, as we minister to the needs of a broken world.” Another is attached to the exterior of the M&M building up the hill: “love grows here.” These are markers for us as a church, and are meant to guide us into a faithful living out of our calling as Christ’s disciples in this time and place, so that all we do might be oriented in this direction.

In our first reading this morning from Exodus, we are reminded of another set of “words to live by” as Moses delivered to the Israelites an important list from God. 10 things, written on two stone tablets, that were meant to guide and shape how the people of God lived. Often, we view them as some sort of check-list to follow, or list of rules and regulations. And while certainly I would agree that following these is a good idea, I think this list is about more than just a bunch of “dos and don’ts.” It’s about what it means to be in relationship with God and others. As Barbara Brown Taylor Notes:

They express the purposeful will of God for God’s people. . . .
the teachings describe the way of life[ii].

In his famous book[iii], Rick Warren argued that the start to our understanding of ourselves and the world needed to begin with an understanding of God’s purposes for us. He outlines 5 purposes he believes, based on Scripture, that God has for us. The first is that:

We were planned for God’s pleasure, so your first purpose is to offer real worship[iv].

It seems Dr. Warren might have been reading along in Exodus. The first four commandments describe a way of life that is centered around God. They offer a focal point for all of our worship, and indeed our very rhythm of life, with God at the center of it all.

Let me add here, we’re not just talking about an hour block of time on a Sunday morning. Worship in this sense is meant to embody the essence of our approach to life as a whole. It happens when we gather for a worship service, or study, or service as a faith community, when we share laughter and break bread around a dinner table, and when we comfort each other during tough times. Worship is an awareness, acknowledgement, or even longing for God’s presence to be with us. It is a declaration that there is an inextricable bond between us and the divine; that God is our purpose.

When we are centered in a love of God, we naturally become drawn to love each other. Lives grounded in worship lead us into faithful community. Conveniently, Rick Warren’s second identified purpose is that:

We were formed for God’s family, so your second purpose is to enjoy real fellowship[v].

Like worship, fellowship is meant here to be broadly understood. It’s not just about our relationship with our nuclear family or the people sitting next to us in the pews. It’s about our engagement with all of God’s children, near and far. Craig Kocher reminds us that:

Proper praise of God shapes our social responsibility; good theology is good ethics[vi].

Our lives of worship compel us to engage in the world in a different way, with actions that flow from our sense of God’s purpose for the world. In the Jewish tradition, the giving of the Torah is marked each spring (this year May 19-21) with the festival of Shavuot, a pilgrimage festival, where the tradition on the first night is to

[stay]up all night to study Torah, Talmud, and other sacred writings together. They offer this annual all-night gathering, known as a tikkun, for the mending of the world[vii].

For centuries, the practice of God’s people around these commandments involves celebration, study, and worship, which leads to real action in the world.

The final six commandments outline how we are to engage in relationship with each other so that true fellowship might come to life. The ways of life described in these somewhat detailed commandments highlight many of the guiding ethos that contribute to a community marked by honesty, respect, integrity, and truthfulness.

On this second Sunday of Lent, hearing these commandments again can help renew our commitments to living a life marked by God’s purpose. During these 40 days, we are called to closely examine how well or not our lives match up against the lives God has intended for us to live. In some ways, it’s a predictable answer – they have fallen short. Even our moments of triumph and success are mixed with faltering and missteps, or times when we have completely fallen on our face. In Lent we confess the ways in which we have either lost track of or intentionally abandoned our sense of purpose for living as children of God, and as a result the whole fabric of our relationship with God and one another is torn apart.

And Jesus enters the temple, on what should have been a holy time of preparation for the Passover meal, when many would have been traveling to Jerusalem, with:

Hearts and minds are focused on the exodus event and expectations of deliverance[viii]

One would expect some sellers of sacrificial animals and money changers with such a crowd, enabling pilgrims to participate in the rituals of worship and sacrifice; this activity may have even been seen as in service to the temple. But, as we see from Jesus’ reaction, all is not as it should be.

While the place appeared to fulfill its function, closer inspection revealed that it had forgotten its purpose[ix].

With all of the holy rage and force of the prophets of old[x], Jesus quite literally cracks the whip and turns over tables. He calls out the people of God with signs that cannot be ignored. It’s a startling first impression to make, as the gospel of John sequences this as Jesus’ first public appearance.

It’s a hard image to swallow. Most of us would prefer the docile, sweet-expression Jesus holding a lamb, or playing with children, or just staring off into the distance. But the gospels are rich with illustrations of a confrontational Jesus, one who speaks truth even when it is uncomfortable to hear; one who challenges our complacency and lack of purpose in direct and forceful ways. One who isn’t afraid to make a bit of a scene to accomplish his purpose in reorienting us to our own. Commentator Paul Shupe names it for us, that we:

feel queasy in the pit of the stomach when Jesus takes up his whip and drives the money changers from the temple. Queasy because along with the surge of righteous adrenaline that is produced when Jesus shifts into his prophetic mode comes the sneaking fear that we might have more in common with the targets of his judgment than with the righteousness of his cause . . . The text pushes us to imagine Jesus entering our own sanctuaries, overturning our own cherished rationalizations and driving us out in the name of God[xi].

That queasiness is the work of Lent, I think. It’s also the work of discipleship.

Rick Warren’s final 3 purposes are all related to this:

We were created to become like Christ, so your third purpose is to learn real discipleship . . . We were shaped for serving God, so your fourth purpose is to practice real ministry. . . . We were made for a mission, so your fifth purpose is to live out real evangelism[xii].

In order to live out these purposes, we have to be willing to let Jesus turn over the tables in our lives and in our society. Those things that we cling to; that have become like idols to us; those things that are keeping us from living the purpose-driven lives God intends for us – lives marked by a spirit of worship and a deepening of community.

This the purpose we are called to, as individuals and as communities of people in various configurations. It begins with a focus on God, and leads to the intentional and faithful building of relationships. That’s the summation of those commandments, underlined by Jesus – love God, and love others. That is our purpose. It is that easy. It is that hard. It is our work to do. May our tables be overturned, that we might be startled into a different way of being. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
February 25, 2018

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
[i] The Boy Scout Oath promises: “to do my duty to God and my country and to obey the Scout law,” which is “to help other people at all times; to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight.” Similarly, the Girl Scout Promise: “On my honor, I will try, to serve God and my country, to help people at all times, and to live by the Girl Scout law.”
[ii] Barbara Brown Taylor, “Homiletical Perspective: Exodus 20:1-17,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
[iii] Rick Warren, The Purpose Driven Life, (Zondervan, 2013).
[iv] Rick Warren, The Purpose Driven Life, (Zondervan, 2013). http://purposedriven.com/books/pdlbook/
[v] Rick Warren, The Purpose Driven Life, (Zondervan, 2013). http://purposedriven.com/books/pdlbook/
[vi] Craig Kocher, “Pastoral Perspective: Exodus 20:1-17,”,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
[vii] Barbara Brown Taylor, “Homiletical Perspective: Exodus 20:1-17,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
[viii] W. Hulitt Gloer, “Homiletical Perspective: John 2:13-22,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
[ix] W. Hulitt Gloer, “Homiletical Perspective: John 2:13-22,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
[x] See Jeremiah 7:1-11 for additional background on Jesus’ language here. Also consider the relationship between worship and justice outlined in Amos 5:21-24, Hosea 6:6, Micah 6:6-8.
[xi] Paul C. Shupe, “Pastoral Perspective: John 2:13-22,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
[xii] Rick Warren, The Purpose Driven Life, (Zondervan, 2013). http://purposedriven.com/books/pdlbook/

Sunday’s Sermon – Know Your Limits – 1 Corinthians 9:16-23

February 4, 2018 Leave a Comment

Have you ever reached a point where you just couldn’t hold back anymore, and had to let something out? Like when your favorite song comes on the radio but there are other people in the car. So you just sort of tap your feet and nod your head, but then the chorus comes on, and you finally let go and belt it out? Or if you have some fantastic news to share, the kind that makes you giddy and excited, so much so that you blurt it out the moment you see a good friend, before they can even answer your “guess what?” Imagine for a moment what it feels like to have all of that enthusiasm or energy building up inside of you. Put another way, what drives you and makes you passionate? What topic can you go on and on about for hours in great detail with very little, if any, prompting from someone else?

For the apostle Paul, the answer was “the gospel.” That is, the good news about Jesus Christ. He was ecstatic about his ministry and mission in sharing this with others. Throughout his letters to early believers, you can feel his passion and energy. In our passage today he articulates a bit more behind his motivations as he describes and defends his authority as an apostle to this in Corinth. This isn’t just a casual hobby, or something he does to get some sort of reward. He feels compelled to do it. It’s something he cannot resist. In fact, he knows that something will be missing if he doesn’t; he’ll be doomed if he lets this opportunity pass him by. This is Paul’s calling, and he wants to be clear to the people that he’s not in it for the money, or any other gain, but rather for the sake of the calling itself.

I am a huge fan of reality tv shows that allow contestants to compete in their areas of passion. Currently, those are Top Chef and Project Runway. Both shows highlight the creativity of the chefs or designers, with the judges and mentors calling on them to dig deeper into their own points of view and come up with end products that are innovative and push the envelope, not just maintaining the status quo. The contestants are pressed to do something revolutionary and inspirational. I imagine Paul would have loved to have been a contestant on “Rome’s Next Top Apostle.” He had ideas spilling out, and a drive and passion that would have put him at the top of the group. But I wonder if that might have gotten him in trouble a bit. You see, invariably on these shows, designers and chefs will try to do too much. All of the ideas get put into one dish or one outfit, and it ends up muddled or confused or chaotic. They lose a sense of focus, an understanding of the audience or challenge, and lack a coherent point of view. Over and over again we hear the judges encouraging them to “edit, edit, edit” and to create things that are innovative, but also show some restraint. They don’t quite have to do it all at once.

Maybe, though, Paul could roll with this approach. As he describes his work as an apostle, he indicates that he has placed some limits on himself already. In the verses leading up to this, he refers directly to his refusal to take funds for this work, so that the financial pieces will not encumber the communities he serves. Indeed, he is making himself available for free. Going further back, we might recall the text from chapter 8 which we read last week, that discusses the importance of Christian communities limiting their eating of meat sacrificed to pagan idols so as not to be a stumbling block with others in their community for whom that might be a slippery slope back into those cultural practices of other gods. In all of this discussion, Paul limits his rights as an apostle for the good of the community and its witnesses. He identifies limits, his own and those he believes to be faithful approaches to living, for the good of the community.

He also embraces the limits of other perspectives. He embraces the limits of other groups to become a servant and share the good news in a way that can truly be heard in a variety of contexts. Rather than just ramming Bible verses down their throats or screaming until he is hoarse, Paul enters their world and experience it from their point of view. From within those limits, he keeps his grounding in his passion, in Christ, and is able to proclaim his message in powerful ways, ways that can actually be heard because he is within the limits of what others understand. He works within the frameworks of others to accomplish amazing things.

Last fall I was introduced to the amazing story of Phil Hansen, an artist whose work reveals unbridled creativity[i]. He was a featured speaker at the Ted conference in 2013. For those of you who might be unfamiliar with “Ted Talks,” they come from a nonprofit, nonpartisan group devoted to “ideas worth spreading,” in the form of short and powerful talks. It began in 1984 as a conference featuring Technology, Entertainment, and Design, but has expanded to include almost every topic imaginable today in more than one hundred languages. Today, TED is a global community, welcoming people from every discipline and culture who seek a deeper understanding of the world. I want to invite you to find a place where you can see and hear this video – it’s a little longer, almost 10 minutes – and in watching it imagine what it might tell us about Paul’s journey to share the gospel and our own calling to live as disciples of Jesus Christ.

https://www.ted.com/talks/phil_hansen_embrace_the_shake

Many times we hear the phrase “know your limits” and see it is as a discouragement or a negative, implying that we are unable to do something. Today I would suggest that Paul’s approach to evangelism turns that idea on its head. Knowing the limits of one’s community and context are what allow Paul to excel, and indeed expand and grow the kingdom of God for the sake of the gospel. The limitations, it seems, gives way to creativity. Just as Phil’s embracing the shake opened the door for new ways of living into his calling, Paul’s embracing of different perspectives and worldviews allowed him to fully live into proclaiming the message he just couldn’t help but share. No matter the limitations, it seems, God finds a way to get the message across. As disciples today, maybe we should also embrace the frameworks or limitations we might have or think we have, and consider how the Holy Spirit might breathe new creative life into our retelling of God’s story. When we do, we will be truly living for the sake of the gospel.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
February 4, 2018

—————————————————————————————————————–

[i] Phil Hansen (February 2013). Embrace the Shake. https://www.ted.com/talks/phil_hansen_embrace_the_shake

Sunday’s Sermon: First Responders, Mark 1:14-20

January 21, 2018 Leave a Comment

Without fail, the same prayer was lifted at the end of each Session meeting at a particular church: “Lord, thank you for those who serve in our military and the first responders.” It was the contribution of the same elder each month as we made our way around the circle. And even though I had come to expect hearing it, it was never offered as merely routine. It was always spoken with a deep sense of gratitude and appreciation and a passionate plea for God’s blessing and protection for those who serve. It made me take notice more of those who were serving in these roles, whether it was the volunteer fire department chief who was also around the table or an officer in uniform. I am impressed by the dedication of these public servants: from firefighters to police officers to EMTs to those who serve in the National Guard or have enlisted in a branch of the military. When things go wrong and people are in trouble, they are often the first to respond. More than that, even, they go to work every day expecting that this might happen, anticipating that they will rise to the calls placed before them, sometimes putting themselves in extreme danger. They don’t know what crisis is in store, but are willing to go and serve. Such service, I think, is an act of courage, compassion, and faith, and can serve as an inspiration for us to respond in our own ways to opportunities for service.

Our gospel text today is about first responders; those who took enormous risks to answer a strange man calling to them from the shoreline. Like our modern day first responders, the disciples answer a sounding alarm, particularly in Mark’s telling of the story. This is the gospel that begins not with a sweet birth narrative, but with a wild man from the wilderness, John the Baptist, shouting words from Isaiah. In just a few short verses, we have a whirlwind of activity, as Jesus is baptized, then spends 40 days being tempted in the wilderness (captured in two verses). The messenger from God, John, is removed from the narrative by arrest, and Jesus enters again. These verses are full of markers of time, which almost make the start to the gospel read as a sounding alarm; a high-level alert that something big is happening. Jesus spells it out clearly: the time has been fulfilled and the kingdom of God is at hand.

This proclamation brings a dual sense of alarm and reassurance. On one hand, everything is about to change. A new day has dawned, and like we discussed last week with the story of Samuel, it is time to wake up and pay attention. On the other hand, there is comfort in knowing that the fullness of time has come. It brings a reassurance that the outcome is already known or at least anticipated. As Ted Smith notes:

Jesus does not just announce the time. He fulfills it, in word and in flesh. And he calls people to respond. . . . As Mark tells the time, God takes the initiative. The reign of God is not the product of discipleship, but the precondition of it[i].

Jesus’ first words in our text don’t just introduce the scene; they test the footings of the foundation and provide the assurance that everything is ready to go.

As is common in Mark, the word “immediately” punctuates the responses of these two sets of brothers. Like the people of Nineveh repent immediately after Jonah’s very short sermon, the disciples’ response is complete and almost instant. Commentaries are quick to remind us that:

Nothing in vs. 16-20 tells us why the fishermen do what they do, why they leave their nets and the hired workers and follow Jesus. Somehow they are compelled to follow him, a man whom they cannot understand, on a journey that will perplex and confuse them to a destination as yet unspecified. The fishermen, now disciples, act in faith – not a faith that understands, takes only calculated risks, or seeks after reward, but a faith that responds to a call from outside, a call that must remain unclear and even frightening . . . Responding to Jesus provides the disciples with no answers for their life struggles, but only questions. It provides them with no security, but rather with rejection and even danger[ii].

What we do know is that these four men responded. They don’t appear to have superhuman characteristics, or even be particularly qualified for such a calling as they received. In fact, John Calvin described them as “rough mechanics,” meant to illustrate that the story was not about who they were, but about who God would help them become[iii].

The translation of the call in the NRSV, and the one many of us quote, is a bit misleading. It has Jesus implying that he will teach them to fish, an action. In reality, Jesus promises in the Greek to make them fishermen. It’s a noun, not a verb. This story is not about teaching a particular set of skills, but about transforming the lives of these first responders in a way that shapes their very identity, so that following Jesus would not just be something they clock in and do, but a part of the central core to who they are. They are not called to just add one more thing to their busy lives, and pencil Jesus in for a shift every so often. No, they were called to embrace a whole new way of life, one that even involved leaving their livelihood and their families. And immediately, even with the full weight of their entire identity at stake, they left their nets and followed him.

This is a story about more than just four fishermen. It is also about us, now, and what we are going to make of the realization that the kingdom of God is near. As professor Lamar Williamson writes:

Jesus’ “Follow me” confronts us all with a decision that lies deeper than the question of earning a living. His call to discipleship focuses on the question of life’s ultimate loyalty, a question more basic than that of vocational choice. It speaks to Christians whose lives are humdrum, whose discipleship has degenerated into a preoccupation with things like nets and boats and hired servants.

This text calls us to consider whether or not we might identify as first responders in faith.

On a more personal level, this is a basic question of belief. Who are we following? Some of us may identify a specific moment in which we decided to call ourselves Christian, kind of like those first disciples. Others might not have an exact date, but an ongoing sense of God’s nudging along the journey, with moments of articulation. Either way, we know that our faith is always a response to the initiative of God. That’s how it works. God lays the foundation, brings things into fullness, opens our eyes, sounds the alarm, and we respond to that grace. We do this by singing Jesus Loves Me and other hymns of praise; through wrestling with scripture and asking tough questions; and when we walk in the door on a Sunday morning hoping to hear the good news again so that when we walk out we are changed. Every time we open our Bibles or begin to pray, we are responding to God in faith. We are saying we have decided to follow Jesus. We are identifying ourselves as disciples.

But it doesn’t stop there. Elton Brown says:

Christianity is always both for now and for the long haul; both a moment and a lifetime[iv].

Being a disciple of Jesus Christ requires ongoing, daily work. It’s easy for us to get caught up in the tangled nets we hold, ones we might need to drop in order to most fully live into the realities of God’s kingdom. It is easy for us to let others bear the burden of the work of discipleship because we are too busy, or not qualified, or tired, or just disinterested. We can become apathetic about this calling. To those dull places, Jesus comes again, and offers a refreshed identity and understanding of ourselves with the promise that we can become something different.

Our text for today offers us the opportunity to begin, or renew, our identity as disciples of Jesus Christ. To scan our eyes on the horizons of our lives and see where God breaks into even the most ordinary moments of our existence, and invites us to be something more.

As Eugene Peterson phrases it in The Message: “Time’s up! God’s kingdom is here. Change your life and believe the Message.” (Mark 1:15)

May we be first responders in our lives of faith, on our feet and leaping into action, immediately reacting to God’s presence among us. Then, we can truly call ourselves disciples. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
January 21, 2018

—————————————————————————————–

[i] Ted. A Smith, “Homiletical Perspective, Mark 1:14-20,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
[ii] Walter Brueggemann, Charles B. Cousar, Beverly R. Gaventa, and James D. Newsome, “Third Sunday After Epiphany,”Texts for Preaching: A Lectionary Commentary Based on the NRSV – Year B, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1993).
[iii] John Calvin, Commentary on a Harmony of the Evangelists, Matthew, Mark, and Luke, Vol. 1, trans. William Pringle (Edinburgh: Edinburgh Printing Co., 1845), 242-44., as referenced by Lee Barrett, “Theological Perspective, Mark 1:14-20,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
[iv] Elton W. Brown, “Pastoral Perspective, Mark 1:14-20,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).

Sunday’s Sermon – Sleeping In – 1 Samuel 3:1-10, Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18

January 14, 2018 Leave a Comment

Do you think Eli just wanted five more minutes of sleep, or at least peace and quiet? Rest, after all, is hard to come by. Studies consistently show that very few of us get the suggested seven or eight hours at night, and for a variety of reasons, much of that becomes interrupted. So perhaps Eli just wanted a moment to collect himself before another day in the temple; another day of endless questions from the young Samuel; another day of wondering where God was in the midst of it all. His eyesight had grown dim, which we might read as a sign of aging, yes, but also a sense that the priest’s theological vision and faith might be waning as well.

“The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread,” begins our story. It was a quiet, somber time for God’s people that followed a difficult cycle which we read about in Judges. Throughout that book we hear the refrain “In those days there was no king in Israel; all the people did what was right in their own eyes.” God would send the people a judge to correct their ways, and the people would comply, only to eventually falling back into doing whatever they wanted to, prompting God to send yet another judge. They have taken matters into their own hands, taking things where they could get them and essentially ignoring all that God had set before them for ways of living in covenant relationship. Later verses will reveal that Eli’s own sons have abused their positions as priests, committing some pretty heinous sins, including stealing from the offerings and sleeping with women like Hannah who had come to worship God at the tent of meeting.

The picture is fairly bleak, and understandably so the people are cynical, and may have even wondered if God had fallen asleep on them. The narrative grinds to a halt just before our text, with the slow stillness of silence. The people of God have fallen asleep, far from an engaged relationship with the divine.

In 1819, Washington Irving published what has become an iconic short story about “Rip Van Winkle.” It is set in the years before and after the Revolutionary War in a small village at the foot of New York’s Catskill Mountains. The title character is loved, but lazy. He avoids the hard work, so much so that one day he wanders into the mountains and encounters an odd group of old men. He drinks some of what they have to offers, and falls asleep. For twenty years.

A long nap sure is tempting, isn’t it? In these cold winter months, sleeping in is quite the tempting offer. We want to remain comfortable, and so we burrow deeper under our covers where it is warm and cozy. But when applied to our spiritual lives, this proves to be a troublesome metaphor for living. As Commentator Lawrence Wood notes:

We are sleeping. We do not fully sense the divinity around us. Exhaustion has so dulled our hearts, minds, and souls that we can work all day in the temple but never hear God[i].

There are so many draining things in our lives that it is easy to become fatigued and weary. When the world gets heavy, so do our theological eyelids. It can become harder and harder to see God in our midst. We may even turn to other sources for answers. When all seems at a dead end, we resign ourselves to dormancy and sleep. This is the position of Eli, and perhaps other priests in today’s text. They are asleep, and because of this they almost miss the rise of a new day. Fortunately, there is an early bird in their midst.

Samuel, the long awaited and prayed for child from a faithful woman named Hannah, has been dedicated to a life in the temple. We don’t know his exact age, only that he is a young boy, ministering to the Lord. It seems he is not so deep into his sleep that he is unable to be stirred. He hears a voice calling his name. And he responds. Except it isn’t the voice of Eli like he would expect, and so he is sent back to his slumbers. The voice calls again. Again Samuel comes. Again he is dismissed.

A lot can be missed if you stay asleep long enough. After twenty years Rip Van Winkle woke up and discovered that everything had changed, from his appearance to the town. An entire revolution has come and gone, and Rip has missed all of it. Can you imagine missing something as big as this? And yet, we too are at risk of losing sight ourselves of the transformation God is doing in the world. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. offers powerful reflections on this story in a sermon he delivered at the National Cathedral almost exactly fifty years ago. He noted:

one of the great liabilities of life is that all too many people find themselves living amid a great period of social change, and yet they fail to develop the new attitudes, the new mental responses, that the new situation demands. They end up sleeping through a revolution[ii].

As it turns out in this text, God is not sleeping. Far from it. God is about to embark on a radical new way of interacting with God’s people. God is preparing to send them a king to lead and guide them. And God’s voice will not be silenced or ignored. It comes again, surer than the snooze button on your alarm clock, and Samuel is awake. This third time, Eli finally clicks in. It’s the voice of God. Suddenly, everything changes. Eli gives Samuel a response that will shape the course of his future, “speak Lord, for your servant is listening.” The time to sleep has ended.

There is a raved about alarm clock among parents of young children. It’s called the “ok to wake clock.” Essentially, it is a clock to help little ones stay in their room until the right time in the morning, and for ones who can’t yet read the clock, it gives a color cue, turning green when the time comes. Then the child knows that it’s ok to wake up. Our text for this morning should be our “ok to wake” cue to listen to the calls God is placing on our lives.

As Joseph Price describes it:

To be called by God is an act of spiritual intimacy and divine urgency. To be called by God means that God knows one’s name and, in knowing one’s name, exercises a powerful influence on the person. To be called by God also indicates a need for immediate response because the Almighty has indeed summoned one to a specific vocation or course of action[iii].

Call is a powerful thing. It begins by listening, but isn’t fully complete until we respond with our actions, lived out discipleship as we seek to follow Christ. This is what King was getting at when he talked about developing new attitudes and mental responses that the new situations demand in our world. We are called to participate in the ongoing revolution God has going in this world. To do so, we have to wake up and look around, listening with a servant’s heart.

It is fitting that this passage comes to us on a holiday weekend where we remember the life and legacy of Dr. King. He embodied a spirit of wakeful listening, and his words and actions inspired many to listen to callings in their own life to stand up against systemic injustice in our country. Although the work is not yet finished, far from it in fact, his servant spirit lives on. Tomorrow, many will do so with intentional acts of service in his honor. But the truth is, it is ongoing work that should be done every calendar day. The key for us is to pay attention, and listen for God’s word to come to us, even when we least expect it, because we all have a part to play in that calling.

If you find yourself hesitating in your own qualifications, consider the promise laid out in Psalm 139, that God knows us, intimately and deeply, and that we are, body and soul, marvelously made in the image of our creator, shaped from the inside out, created to be a part of what God is doing in the world. It isn’t a journey we travel alone. God is behind us, ahead of us, around us, a “reassuring presence, coming and going[iv].” We were made for this.

We have been knit together in our mother’s womb, and knit together as a part of the family of God. And God calls us not to stay asleep, but to wake up and do something with the gifts we have been given.

The call story of Samuel gives us a rich understanding of how call comes, and the reminder that our God is persistent with it. Even if it takes three or more times to get the message across, God calls. Samuel also reminds us that God’s call extends to everyone. As Professor Richard Boyce notes:

It takes both the attentiveness of the young Samuel’s ears and the wisdom of the old priest’s heart and mind to birth this new office in the service of the Lord[v].

Answering God’s call is the work of community, old and young together, to bring about the revolution God has in store. For the people of God in 1 Samuel, God is ushering in a new age, a new way of being in the world, a new way of leading God’s people. And it all starts with the courage a young boy and an old priest have to wake up, and pay attention. May it be so with us. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
January 14, 2018
———————————————————————————

[i] Lawrence Wood, “Homiletical Perspective: 1 Samuel 3:1-10 (11-20),” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
[ii] Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., “Remaining Awake Through a Great Revolution,” sermon delivered at the National Cathedral on March 31, 1968. https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/king-papers/publications/knock-midnight-inspiration-great-sermons-reverend-martin-luther-king-jr-10, accessed 1/13/18.
[iii] Joseph L. Price, “Theological Perspective: 1 Samuel 3:1-10 (11-20),” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
[iv] Psalm 139:5, The Message
[v] Richard Boyce, “Exegetical Perspective: 1 Samuel 3:1-10 (11-20),” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).

Sunday’s Sermon – A Star to Follow – Matthew 2:1-12

January 7, 2018 Leave a Comment

The skies are an amazing thing. Do you remember last August when many of us donned special glasses to experience the solar eclipse, with some traveling a short distance north to experience nearly two minutes of totality? People were enraptured and amazed at the sudden and dramatic changes brought from above. It was labeled as an event of a lifetime, or at least of a decade. Recently, there’s been other activity worth noting, too. Did you happen to look up at night this past week? As the new year began, we experienced the first full moon right away and it was spectacular. It was huge, so much so that even on Wednesday night, I felt like after driving over the crest of the hill near Etowah High School I would be able to just reach out and touch it, or like it was sitting on top of Kroger.

As it turns out, it wasn’t quite that close. According to EarthSky.org is was about 221,559 miles from us, but I did learn that it was a supermoon, which means that at the same time it becomes full it reaches its perigree, the point in the moon’s elliptical orbit when it is closest to the earth[i]. (Perigree simply means “near earth”). The average distance of the moon is around 238,000 miles, and this week we observed just how big of a difference 17,000 miles can make[ii]. This makes the moon appear up to 14 percent larger and 30 percent brighter than usual[iii]. If you missed it, there’s more activity to come. On January 31 we will experience a blue moon, a second full moon within the same calendar month, and on that night there will be a total lunar eclipse as well. All of this makes me wish I knew way more about astronomy, because of the power and majesty of what we see overhead. The stars tell a powerful story.

A star seems to be a central character of our biblical story today as we celebrate the Epiphany, that moment of divine manifestation of God on earth through Jesus Christ as related by Matthew’s gospel. This story completes our nativity scenes with the arrival of travelers from the east. They are called magi, wise men, magicians, or even kings, and the traditions that have spun off of them resulted in much speculation about their mysterious identities. In an attempt to nail down the story, legend ventured that there must have been 3, one for each of the named gifts, and some even went so far as to give them names and cultural identities. But whether they were practitioners of magic, priests of royal courts, or astrologer and scholars, it is their actions that give them their role in the story. They were willing to follow a star.

Many have tried to identify the nature of the star mentioned in Matthew. Some say it was Halley’s Comet, which could have been seen around 12 BCE, others propose that it actually was a cluster of multiple stars that shone brightly. It may have been a supernova explosion or even a planet. In The Divine Comedy, Dante describes God as “the love that moves the stars[iv],” which inspired James C. Howell to offer that this was some sort of supernatural phenomenon meant to demonstrate that:

God is determined to be found, and will use any and all measures . . . to reach out to people who are open[v].

On Epiphany, we celebrate this moment when the stars quite literally aligned, and identify it as revelatory for Christ’s entrance into the world, which we celebrated 13 days ago. Like the angels singing on the hillside, the star is meant to point us to God’s incarnation.

Augustine wrote, “Christ was not born because the star shone forth, but it shone forth because Christ was born; we should say not that the star was fate for Christ, but that Christ was fate for the star.” (Benson Bobrick, The Fated Sky: Astrology in History (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2005), 79).

The star tells the story of light coming into the world in a powerful way, one that fulfilled the promises of the prophets and caught the attention of the magi, who had the eyes to see what others, including Herod and his scribes, did not, and provided them with a direction to go.

Finding one’s way can be hard, particularly when stars are involved. In the Disney movie Moana, the title character is attempting to restore the heart of the ocean and employs the help of the demigod Maui. After a series of events they finally begin to make their way, it becomes apparent that she does not know the basics of sailing, or how to use the stars above as a guide. She begs Maui, “teach me to sail,” to which he replies, “it’s called wayfinding, Princess.” He’s referring to an ancient Polynesian practice which dates back at least 3,000 years of navigating the ocean using deep knowledge and intense observation of the stars in the sky and the swells of the water[vi]. But when he continues, it’s clear he means more than just a geographical orientation and nautical skill. Maui says to Moana,

“It’s not just sails and knots. It’s seeing where you’re going in your mind. And knowing where you are, by knowing where you’ve been[vii].”

In the same way, there is more to the story of the magi finding the baby Jesus than just a simple delivery of gifts with the star as some sort of GPS. This is a story of journey and discovery that teaches us a lot about what it means to search for God in the midst of our own life experiences. Commentator William Arnold lays it out in this way:

First, these wise people had been studying. They knew their history. They hadn’t merely stumbled onto this momentous event. They had searched their own past and their sacred texts, and the result of their study was a readiness, or at least a willingness, to recognize the sign when it appeared.

Second, these scholarly folk did not keep their noses in the books all the time. They also were keen observers of the world around them. . . .

Third, they were willing to seek confirmation of what they had learned and seen. They moved, put their feet . . . in motion to follow this sign. They took a chance on being proven wrong – or right!

Fourth, they were willing to ask for directions along the way, even if they were wrong in their choice of resources (Herod).

Fifth, having found the confirmation of their convictions . . . they responded with all the gratitude they could muster.

Sixth . . . they still remained vigilant and attentive – open to further visions and insight – and thus they were responsive to their dream-delivered warning to go home by another road[viii].

The magi provide a powerful illustration of what the journey of faith, and the journey of life, can look like when we focus our intentions and attention in the right places. Willingness, observing, action, seeking guidance, responding with gratitude, and continued openness; these sound almost like a list of new year’s resolutions of ways to be more faithful. The magi help give us tools that can help us find our own stars to follow towards the epiphanies God has in store for us in the coming year.

There is a tradition that is becoming popular among churches around the country at this time of year, marking this day of Epiphany with the receiving of “star words[ix].” They are simple verbs or adjectives meant to give a point of focus or inspiration for the coming year, through which we can experience God in an epiphany-type way; unexpected, challenging, refreshing and renewing. This morning, you will have the opportunity to receive one of these words in worship. Although there is no “star words police,” you are encouraged to simply pick one from the basket, receiving it as a gift, rather than trying to select a word that you particularly like or think you need. One of my clergy friends described it this week as “the word picking you.” The stories of these are pretty amazing, as they become woven into the life of the one who carries it. You don’t have to figure out its meaning to you right away; simply let it rest with you. You are encouraged to put them in a place you will see them often, and ours even have a sticky-back to them for a secure placement. There should be enough for everyone, and there are also some smaller stars available that you can try to write a word on, or simply take to put in a second spot in your world to remind you of your drawn star. May these stars be one way to help guide you, as that star did for the magi long ago, to a place where you discover God breaking into the world in powerful and personal ways, as we hear the carol’s refrain:

O Star of wonder, star of night, star with royal beauty bright,
westward leading, still proceeding, guide us to thy perfect light.

Let our next journey begin. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
January 7, 2018

—————————————————————————————————————————
[i] Bruce McClure and Deborah Byrd, “2018’s closest supermoon January 1,” January 1, 2018, EarthSky.org, January 1, 2018, http://earthsky.org/space/what-is-a-supermoon.
[ii] Jesse Emspak and Tariq Malik, “Supermoon 2018: When and How to See January’s Two Full Moons,” www.space.com, January 1, 2018, https://www.space.com/34515-supermoon-guide.html, accessed 1/6/2018.
[iii] Emspak and Malik.
[iv] Dante, The Divine Comedy: Paradise xxxiii, l. 145, as quoted by James C. Howell.
[v] James C. Howell, “Theological Perspective: Matthew 2:1-12,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
[vi] Kayleigh Hughes, “What is Wayfinding? Disney’s ‘Moana’ Introduces Viewers To The Art Of Navigation,” November 23, 2016, Bustle.com. https://www.bustle.com/articles/195766-what-is-wayfinding-disneys-moana-introduces-viewers-to-the-art-of-navigation, accessed 1/4/18.
[vii] Moana, directed by Ron Clements and John Musker, (Walt Disney, 2016).
[viii] William V. Arnold, “Pastoral Perspective: Matthew 2:1-12,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
[ix] Many attribute this idea to Rev. Marci Auld Glass, https://marciglass.com/category/starward/

Sunday’s Sermon – Well-Fed – Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24; Matthew 25:31-46

November 26, 2017 Leave a Comment

Today is Christ the King Sunday, one of those lesser known “high and holy” theological days that actually is the last one in the liturgical year. As you might expect from the name, this Sunday celebrates the rule of Christ as Lord over all creation, the King of Kings. And in this, we have the opportunity to pause and consider what it means exactly to call Jesus our Lord, and what king of King he really is. But frankly, royalty isn’t really a concept we deal with too often nowadays. The most news I seem to hear about royalty revolves around the hairstyle and clothing choices of Kate Middleton, or glimpses of royalty with King Friday and Prince Tuesday in the land of make believe in Daniel Tiger. None of these seem to be particularly helpful to me in understanding Jesus. In fact, that make it quite comical.

Fortunately, the Bible is full of illustrations of kingship, including our texts today, which call attention to Jesus and God as a shepherd. Interestingly, this was quite the common way to refer to kings and rulers in secular settings as well dating back centuries. Leaders were expected to show kindness, protect the vulnerable, pursue justice, and guide people through every difficulty, as shepherds care for a flock. That was the mark of an excellent king. So, to say Jesus or God is a shepherd is to affirm that the very nature of God is to care for all of us sheep, and at the same time, to proclaim the reign of God and Christ over all.

Although Psalm23 might be the first to come to mind with this concept, Ezekiel 34 offers a rich commentary on what it means for God to be a shepherd, reminding us of the very nature of God, the one who came to us in the person of Jesus Christ, has always been interested in the care of the flock. This morning’s text from the prophet speaks words of hope in the midst of many passages that serve as sobering oracles of doom for God’s people[i]. Ezekiel is a book full of visions recorded by the prophet, dated in the opening verses as “in the thirtieth year, in the fourth month, on the fifth day of the month,” which most scholars date at the start of the sixth century BCE in the time leading up to the fall of Jerusalem in 586, making this a book written to God’s people during the exile and Babylonian captivity, with some even noting it may have come from oral speeches[ii]. The language is complex and themes sophisticated, suggesting the author to be among the intellectual elite of his day, speaking and writing to other leaders from the southern kingdom of Judah who would have been equipped to understand the intricacies of the historical-political situation of the day.

Chapters 34-48, however, contain oracles of restoration, in which Ezekiel insists that Israel’s exile will not be permanent, for that would be a contradiction with God’s reputation among the nations, instead:

God will regather the people from the nations, return them to their homeland, and ensure that the sins of the past are never repeated . . . [and] will enter into a new covenant with the people[iii].

This is the work of the shepherd outlined in chapter 34, with promises for the sheep of Israel and also for us today about the one we proclaim is king.

Shepherds give up all semblance of a normal life to care for animals that may not even be their own. . .This shepherd image is about love and compassion for another living thing – to the point of self-sacrifice. . . . Being a shepherd means getting dirty, sleeping with the sheep, carrying them to safety, binding their wounds, and caring for their nutritional needs. (vv. 11-16)[iv].

The promise here and throughout our Scriptures is that we will be “well-fed”. How many of you experienced that this week as you celebrated Thanksgiving? According to the small sampling from the poll posted on our church’s Facebook page earlier this week, almost half of your enjoy stuffing or dressing the most, followed by turkey, with a three way tie between cranberry sauce, sweet potato casserole and pumpkin pie for third. For many of us, the image of Thanksgiving is an abundant feast, with countless dishes spread on a large table surrounded by family and friends, that usually ends with some sort of “food coma” as we are all well satiated by the meal. Have you heard of “Thanksgiving pants?” (https://thanksgivingdinnerpants.com/) The Stove Top stuffing brand marketed them this season for $20. They SOLD OUT, confirming that for many this holiday seems to bring with it the notion of overconsumption and extravagance. They are basically yoga or legging type pants with pockets, with a top panel almost like maternity clothing (a familiar joke to those familiar with Joey’s “Thanksgiving pants” from an old episode of the tv show “Friends”), so that as you eat, there’s room for your stomach to literally expand without the restrictiveness of an ordinary waistband[v]. One might wonder what the line is between being “well-fed” and “stuffed” is. I think it might be somewhere around when you order special leggings.

The promise in Ezekiel is that all the sheep will be well-fed by God, but with that comes some commentary about those who have become the “fat sheep.” The second section of verses for today speaks of God’s judgment of those who have gotten too fat and happy at the expense of others, pushing and scattering the other sheep for personal gain. In biblical times, these “fat sheep” are equated with those who have failed to be good shepherds. Scholars debate if they might have reference the royal leaders of Israel and Judah, or even foreign rulers who have dominated or plundered from the Israelites. But even with the exact identities unknown, we might guess exactly what the prophet means. A modern day equivalent might be the image of people pushing and shoving their way into stores on Black Friday, literally trampling one another in order to get a low priced tv. Clearly, something is amiss.

As MaryAnn McKibben Dana notes:

Today’s passage is God’s way of saying, “Step aside, shepherds, and let me show you how it’s done.” . . . Ezekiel is vivid here, but not vitriolic; his words are saturated with detail, but not outright disgust. We find no litany of curses, no ranting, not exclamatory hyperbole. God seems resolute but weary – and almost grieved at once again having to set people straight on the path of justice. . . . Like a parent intent on teaching her child, who remembers that calm consistency is the key, God does not fly off the handle. God just quietly but firmly corrects. Again. And again[vi].

God does this because God is a shepherd, and that is what shepherds do in caring for their flocks. You know how I said I didn’t know much about kings? I may know less about shepherding. But this week I learned a bit more as I searched for this week’s bulletin cover image.

The photo captured me right away as I looked for an image of a shepherd, and I found that it was posted on the website for a historic sheep farming property known as Tarndie in south-west Victoria in Australia. I e-mailed the owners, and got this reply from Tom Dennis:

Dear Elizabeth, I’m more than happy for you to use the image of my father Dave. He does know a thing or two about looking after sheep, and they in turn, look after him.[vii]

What a wonderful perspective on what it means to shepherd. I wondered, if this might not be a great way to look at how this description of God as shepherd is meant to connect to our lives today. God knows a thing or two about looking after sheep, and outlines it clearly multiple times in our Scriptures. And, in turn, might we as faithful sheep, be called to look after him?

Jesus’ parable in Matthew’s gospel seems to answer this question. In these familiar words, we also discover the image of the Son of Man, Jesus, God Incarnate, as a shepherd. Like God intervenes with the fat and lean sheep in Ezekiel, Jesus intervenes with the sheep and goats of the gospel, ushering in a meal of justice that humbles the powerful and empowers the humble. And, as Jesus has continued the work of God and demonstrated the same nature of God as shepherd described in Ezekiel 34, here he indicates that his followers are to carry on that same mission: feed the hungry, welcome the stranger, clothe the naked, visit the sick and incarcerated. That is the essence of what it means to be a disciple of Jesus Christ, a sheep in God’s pasture.

It starts by recognizing our shepherd. A study released earlier this month revealed that sheep, and other animals, are actually able to both recognize and remember each other’s faces and the face of the shepherd, using similar neural networks as humans. The author of the study, Keith Kendrick, is a neuroscientist at the Babraham Institue in Cambridge, England, and worked studying sheep to find that they could easily be trained to associate the particular faces of others in relation to receiving food. And, more than that, he found that the sheep could retain that memory for up to 600-800 days[viii].

“When did we see you? When did we not see you?” are the questions asked by the sheeps and goats in Matthew, both to the same reply, “As you did (or did not) do it to the least of these . . . you did (or did not) do it to me).” The heart of this parable is being able to see the face of the shepherd in the face of those in need. And it’s something even sheep can do.

Seeing the face of the shepherd and recognizing other sheep is what enables us to act in Jesus’ name. As Stanley Hauerwas and William H. Willimon write:

We can only act within a world we can see.

Vision is the necessary prerequisite for ethics[ix].

Jesus’ parable in Matthew helps to give us that vision for what the kingdom of God can be, one in which he is present on the throne of glory, the eternal shepherd. Ezekiel’s description of God as the shepherd does the same thing, speaking to those who may have felt like “the least of these” themselves in the midst of exile. To those who have much and those who have lost it all, the message is that God offers care and compassion, justice and relief, working tirelessly until all the sheep are safely in pasture. The Lord indeed is our shepherd, we shall not want. May we receive that care, and also extend it to others, so that all of God’s children are well-fed. That is what the kingdom of God is meant to look like. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
November 26, 2017

——————————————————————————————————-

[i] For other passages of hope, see Ezekiel 36:1-15; 37:1-14; for examples of the oracles of doom, see Ezek. 5:1-17, 8:1-11:13, among other texts. As outlined in: Walter Brueggemann, Charles B. Cousar, Beverly R. Gaventa, and James D. Newsome, “Proper 28,” Texts for Preaching- Year A, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1995).
[ii] Katheryn Pfisterer Darr, “The Book of Ezekiel,” The New Interpreter’s Bible: Volume VI: Introduction to Prophetic Literature, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Baruch, Letter of Jeremiah, Lamentations, Ezekiel, (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994).
[iii] Katheryn Pfisterer Darr
[iv] Karyn L. Wiseman, “Homiletical Perspective: Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011).
[v] Go to https://thanksgivingdinnerpants.com/ for pictures and a video commercial.
[vi] MaryAnnMcKibben Dana, “Pastoral Perspective: Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011).
[vii] E-mail correspondence between Tom Dennis and Rev. Elizabeth Milford, November 20, 2017.
[viii] Amanda Onion, “Study: Sheep Recognize Other Sheep, Even People,” ABC News,
http://abcnews.go.com/Technology/story?id=98209&page=1, accessed 11/22/17.
[ix] Stanley Hauerwas and William H. Willimon in Imaging the Word: An Arts and Lectionary Resource, Volume 3, (Cleveland, Ohio: United Church Press, 1996).

Sunday’s Sermon – Digging Holes – Matthew 25:14-30

November 19, 2017 Leave a Comment

Last weekend, Matt and I found ourselves in a pretty deep hole, and it was our own doing. While on our camping trip to Raccoon Mountain near Chattanooga, I had the bright idea that caving would be a fun adventure. So we signed up, filled out a lengthy waiver, put on recommended clothing and headed to the Cavern entrance to meet our guide for our “Waterfall Dome” tour and three and a half hours or so of exploring. We soon veered off from the walking, lit portion of the caverns, and after a slippery walk and belly crawl took a short break. Our energetic young guide, Ben, jokingly asked “so, who here is afraid of heights?” I felt my body stiffen. I had not bargained on heights while deep in a cave. He went on to describe the “y-body position” move we’d need for the next section, angling ourselves “like you see in Ninja warrior” over an opening which he guessed had a drop of anywhere from 8 to 20 feet depending on the section. Then he smiled and asked who was ready to go. I was not. I was trying to figure out if it was possible to go back the way we came; after all, we’d only been going for about half an hour. Then I remembered the notes from the website that said the minimum age was 8 and everyone had to be 56 inches tall. How did 8 year olds do this? They must not have any fear. Fortunately, I have a great partner who saw my panic and reassured me he was there to help me get through it. So we moved forward and made it through. In fact, you couldn’t really see the depth of the drops because of the darkness of the cavern, and it wasn’t nearly as dramatic as our guide had made it out to be. Difficult? Yes. Unnerving? Absolutely. But doable. At the end of the day, you have to overcome your fears if you want to get out of the cave.

In today’s parable, only two servants would have made it out; the third servant would still be sitting in the muddy cavern with his one talent. In the first century, this was the largest unit of currency available at the time. Some scholars guess that it would have been worth between 15 and 20 years’ worth of a salary for a day laborer. The exact figure isn’t as important for understanding as it is that this was no small pocket change. Do some quick math – double your current annual salary. Now add a zero to it. Imagine it in front of you, a stunning amount that doesn’t belong to you, but is now in your care. Of course the servant dug and hole and buried it to keep it safe. His actions prompt us to ask:

What’s so wrong with being cautious? Discretion and deliberateness are virtues, not vices. But with this third servant virtues become vices. Prudence and wariness easily become self-protectiveness and restraint. Inhibition turns to fear, and the servant ends up refusing the risk of trading in the marketplace[i].

The third servant simply waits for the master to come back, so he can return it, perhaps like a hot potato, saying “Here you go – it’s all there. Every penny accounted for, just like you left it.” Nothing new to see here.

And yet, when the master returns, the prudent decision of the servant is not rewarded. It seems there were some better options for how to pass the time while the master was away. The first two servants had invested their sums, 5 and 2 talents respectively, and each doubled the amount. They are rewarded and given additional responsibilities as a result. Then, the master turns to the third servant, who immediately begins offering explanations and notes that he was afraid to do anything but hide what he had been given in the ground. And the result isn’t pretty. The master is harsh, calling the servant lazy, saying he at least could have put it in a basic interest bearing account. And then he is punished, banished to the darkness where there is weeping and grinding of teeth; one of the most harsh treatments of anyone we read about in Scripture. It’s a hard story to swallow. It’s not like the third servant squandered these funds away on gourmet dinners and fine wines. He didn’t buy an iPhone 10 or go on an all-night shopping spree on Black Friday. He just maintained what was there; a reasonable and safe venture. And that seems to be the heart of one issue Jesus is trying to teach in this parable. As John Buchanan notes:

The point here is not really about doubling your money and accumulating wealth. It is about living. It is about investing. It is about taking risks. . . The greatest risk of all, it turns out, is not to risk anything, not to care deeply and profoundly enough about anything to invest deeply, to give your heart away and in the process risk everything. The greatest risk of all, it turns out, is to play it safe, to live cautiously and prudently[ii].

This parable is the third in a series of four Jesus tells in Matthew about the end times (eschaton) as he nears Jerusalem and the final events that will lead him to the cross. The tension of this journey is palpable, with a sense of urgency and importance. Here, Jesus expresses what he hopes and expects of them after he is gone while they wait for his coming again. This is a parable about what it means to be a follower of Jesus, faithful to him, even when he’s not there to show you firsthand how it’s done. And so, it is a parable about you and me as well.

Often we hear this parable and think about it as a stewardship lesson of investment, or a reminder to use those skills that we have rather than hide them away. And while these are reasonable and worthwhile perspectives, they fail to capture the larger picture and drama of the context of this parable about the end of time, kingdom of God, and judgment. We might, as Matt Skinner suggests, think about it more as a parable about callings, the “positions in which God has placed you to make a difference; opportunities to be influential[iii].”

The third servant had the opportunity, the calling, to take what had been put before him and do something for the glory of the master. And instead of building up, he dug a hole in fear. Skinner continues:

This parable is about more than just what you can do, or what God has gifted you with, but it’s a parable about what are you going to do in those moments where you clearly know what it means to represent Christ in a moment and you don’t do so[iv].

From the first century until today, God’s people have had trouble stepping up to live fully into Christ’s call to live actively as disciples. In the 1940s, German pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer struggled with this as he wrote in the midst of the Holocaust. He offered “that the sin of respectable people is running from responsibility[v],” as he wrestled with his own sense of responsibility to speak out against Hitler and the Nazi party, which led to his arrest, internment in a concentration camp, and execution. Running from responsibility looks a lot like digging holes.

This is what Martin Luther King, Jr. railed about in his “Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” lamenting and calling out those who, like the third servant, did nothing. King wrote:

I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a “more convenient season.” Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection[vi].

The middle ground, you see, the ground of inaction and passivity, of the third servant, of the hiding in a hole, is no ground to stand on at all.

This pattern infiltrates our daily lives as well. Fear overtakes our desire and ability to do the things we know are good and right. We don’t speak up when things don’t seem right because we don’t want to create waves. With Thanksgiving on the horizon, this will be tested repeatedly as families with diverse opinions gather. We hesitate to volunteer because we aren’t sure if we have the abilities, or are selfish with our time and afraid it will take away from the other things we want to do. We don’t want to be inconvenienced. The holes we dig for ourselves are all around us. And, even when confronted with it, we keep digging. Have you ever realized you were wrong about something, but then became even more insistent on your wrong notion, or kept talking and saying things that only made something worse? It seems we think that the holes will somehow protect us a bit, but most of the time they end up burying us instead.

The good news is, we have this parable to inspire us to choose another way; to stare fear in the face and stand on the side of Christ; to be bold enough to take a stand in the face of what tries to render us helpless and say, “not today.” In the wake of yet another story about a shooting during a service of worship, our very gathering here today is a witness to the power of the gospel to triumph over fear. This is what it means to be the church. Our Book of Order even helps define it this way, saying:

The church is to be a community of faith, entrusting itself to God alone, even at the risk of losing its life[vii].

As people of faith, we are called to take risks, not dig holes. This is one of our greatest callings as those who follow Jesus and live in anticipation of his return. To live into the kingdom of heaven that these parables describes means being ready to present ourselves to God not as maintainers of the bare minimum, but as faithful investors who lived fully into the lives God gave us.

As poet Marianne Williamson reminds us:

We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It’s not just in some of us, it’s in everyone.
And as we let our light shine,
We unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others[viii].

Rather than throw each other shovels to make the holes of fear and insecurity greater, let’s throw some ropes down, join hands, and help each other navigate those caverns and holes together, until we all are brought back up again. And in the midst of the darkness we are in, may the light of Christ shine our way, so that we may be bearers of light to the world with good news, the kind the doubles what we have been given. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
November 19, 2017

—————————————————————————————-
[i] Walter Brueggemann, Charles B. Cousar, Beverly R. Gaventa, and James D. Newsome, “Proper 28,” Texts for Preaching- Year A, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1995).
[ii] John M. Buchanan, “Pastoral Perspective: Matthew 25:14-30,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011).
[iii] Rolf Jacobson, Karoline Lewis, and Matt Skinner, “Sermon Brainwave Podcast #570 – Twenty-Fourth Sunday after Pentecost,” Working Preacher.Org, Posted November 11, 2017, http://www.workingpreacher.org/brainwave.aspx?podcast_id=948, accessed 11/15/17.
[iv] Matt Skinner.
[v] As referenced by John M. Buchanan.
[vi] Martin Luther King, Jr, “Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” April 16, 1963, https://www.africa.upenn.edu/Articles_Gen/Letter_Birmingham.html, accessed 11/16/17.
[vii] Book of Order 2017-2019, Presbyterian Church (USA), F-1.0301.
[viii] Marianne Williamson, “Our Deepest Fear” from Return to Love, as printed in Imaging the Word: An Arts and Lectionary Resource, Volume 3, (Cleveland, Ohio: United Church Press, 1996).

Christmas Traditions – November Newsletter

November 1, 2017 Leave a Comment

Few things match the beauty of Christmas decorations, especially the large scale ones in malls and shopping centers. I still get amazed as I look at all of the bright lights and glistening tinsel; looking at these beautiful seasonal displays really gets me in the Christmas spirit. I remember as a child going with my family to the mall this time of year, to do some shopping, and if we had time, to sit on Santa’s knee. There was an excited anticipation for this trip, wishing and dreaming for what would be under the tree, and having the chance to whisper it in the jolly man’s ear.

Alongside this was another tradition in my family. Usually next to Santa’s workshop in the mall was a special tree, full of paper angels. Each year, my mom would help me pick out an angel to shop for – usually a girl my age, although as I got older I had more input. We would talk about how not all children get to sit on Santa’s lap and have presents under the tree, and how we were going to help be Santa’s elves. We would look over the list, come up with ideas, and then go shopping. I would pick out things that I thought she might like – and if I got stuck, my mom would remind me that this was a little girl just like me, so maybe we liked some of the same things. In a small, but tangible way, my parents taught me that this was what Christmas was all about – giving and sharing. One year, my Girl Scout troop even got to help with a Christmas party the local Salvation Army was throwing for those receiving gifts. I was amazed at the room lined up with presents, and the volunteers hard at work to make sure each child had a special Christmas. I remember the faces of those children, too – just like mine had been in line for Santa, filled with the Christmas spirit as we sang carols, played games, and ate cookies. Thinking back on these moments now, I am pretty sure this is some of what the kingdom of God is like, too.

As I interviewed to become your pastor, Santa’s Caravan was one of the first things I learned about Heritage Presbyterian Church. I was hooked, and loved being a part of this vibrant ministry for the first time last year. The angel tree in our Narthex is a wonderful testament to what it means to be the church, reminding us that we are connected with God’s children not just here, but in our community as well. I encourage you to take an angel off the tree this year in honor of a child in your life, or for an extra challenge, one for each of your own children, nieces and nephews, or grandchildren. If they live locally, consider a “shopping date” with them as a part of your Christmas celebration. I can’t wait to let Nathan loose in the toy section as we pick things out for another special 3 year old boy, and have already made plans with my mom to continue our tradition, with some of our gift to each other being a mother-daughter shopping trip to provide for several more angels.

When we take a tag off the tree, we are doing more than just carrying a shopping list – we are carrying the hopes and dreams of a child with us. We are practicing the kind of presence with others that is at the heart of our Christmas season – the revelation of God in the flesh, Jesus Christ, our Emmanuel, God-with-us. And we experience it ourselves, too. And that is the best Christmas tradition of all.

Sunday’s Sermon – Press On – Philippians 3:4b-14

October 8, 2017 Leave a Comment

I am continually impressed with those who have the discipline to run, even more so the ones who do it for fun. I have several friends who post about their training for marathons, including one who recently completed a Ragnar ultra-relay run, in which she and 5 friends combined ran 200 miles over a weekend. Seeing things like this remind me that I am in no way a runner. I grew up playing soccer, but was a defensive midfielder, which meant I spent most of the game in sprints and stops. I’m also horrible at pacing myself, so if I were to start out just trying to run, I would quickly reach maximum exertion and then be spent. Running without a ball or Frisbee to chase is of little appeal to me most of the time. I need to have some sort of objective. So right now, I’m working my way through a program called “Couch25k[i],” which gives a schedule of intervals of walking and jogging or running over the course of 9 weeks. I’m starting week 4, and let me tell you, I’m not looking forward to it. This is the week where things shift so you run twice as long as you walk, rather than in evenly paired intervals, and I know it’s going to be hard. I am tempted to stop, or to at least just remain with the more comfortable “easy” runs in which I didn’t feel like I was going to fall off the treadmill and my legs didn’t feel as rubbery. But, with you all as my witnesses, I’m not going to do that. I’m going to challenge myself to press on to the harder runs, because I know that’s the only way I have any hope of actually reaching my goals this time around.

All of this to say, is running is no joke. It takes commitment, hard work, and discipline. The same is true about our life of faith, which is something the apostle Paul knew well. In Philippians, he utilizes the image of an athlete to demonstrate that the Christian life is not about just a quick profession of faith in Jesus Christ and then sitting back and waiting until he comes again. As Fred Craddock writes, the image is quite the opposite:

Paul portrays himself in the least relaxed, most demanding posture he knows: as a runner in a race. His language is vivid, tense, repetitious: pressing, stretching, pushing, straining. In those words the lungs burn, the temples pound, the muscles ache, the heart pumps, the perspiration rolls[ii].

For Paul, faith is an active response marked by a sense of movement toward something more. And Paul is quick to point out what gets left behind.

He reflects in this letter about his many accomplishments as a successful student of the Torah who was zealous about fulfilling his religious obligations. He notes that he was one who “had it all” religiously speaking. He took part in the appropriate rituals and adhered to the letter of the law. But then he references that moment we know from Acts 9 with his conversation on the road to Damascus, and identifies that this has shifted his perspective drastically. Now, all that he once clung to as accomplishment is loss. The word in Greek he uses is translated by the NRSV as “rubbish,” but carries a much more graphic feel – you can substitute your own euphemism. Instead, he has discovered that there is a much greater goal than just checking off all the boxes on the activities card at church. His focus has shifted, and now he is zeroed in more directly on an engaged relationship with Jesus Christ. For Paul, this is a critical distinction, and a straightforward reminder that our lives of faith are not as much about us as they are about Jesus. That is what he identifies as the gain.

Put simply, Jesus changes everything. Christ’s resurrection and claim on us as his own reorients us to a new way of being in the world that is forward-facing, not looking back to our own past achievements. The image of the runner here again is helpful. In running, it is usually less helpful to spend much time thinking about the road that is behind you. Instead, the focus needs to be on what lies ahead. Sometimes, that means little increments. I remember doing conditioning runs each year at the beginning of soccer season, when we had all neglected our training. As the team captains led us on a neighborhood run, I remember looking to telephone poles, large trees, street corners, anything I could to give myself a focus point on which to reach. By keeping my eye on something ahead, I found my feet were more likely to move forward. In the first century, however, runners may have had a different perspective. If you look at art from around that time and earlier, you find that the depictions are almost always of runners looking backward, suggesting that it may have been common to look over one’s shoulder when running[iii], as if you were being chased. Of course, this will generally make for a slower run, and potentially a dangerous one if you don’t pay attention to what is coming up. Paul’s image in Philippians may have been provocative to those early readers, challenging them to see things from a different perspective and to take on a new way of thinking in relationship to their lives of faith.

Maybe we need that reorientation, too. It is very easy in our lives of faith to get caught up in what has been done in the past and only note what we have experienced or have done before. This can be good, of course, as we recall those foundational and pivotal moments to our relationship with God. But it can also leave us with a belief system that is in the past, rather than one that engages us now in the present. Paul, I think, would have us work to let go of the things in our past that distract or encumber us so that we can pay attention to the here and now. Then, we can look ahead and press on to the future that lies before us. In order to get there, he might suggest that we focus on the one who is responsible for it all – Jesus, who is indeed ahead of us. Consider the chorus to the old hymn as our refrain:

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory grace[iv].

These words were written in 1922 by Helen Lemmel, and the verses speak to those struggling with weary hearts and to places where evil seems to envelop all light and hope with darkness. In the face of heartbreak and tragedy, these words are a powerful testimony to the transforming power of Jesus Christ; of the good news of the resurrection that said evil and sin in this world would never be the final answer. This is the hope of our faith, and it needs to be spoken over and over again – as natural disasters strike, and as domestic terrorism leaves more than families grieving and hundreds injured in Las Vegas. As people of faith, we need to cling to the hope that Jesus can and will change these realities.

But our text from Paul also presses us to do more. Remember, he doesn’t instruct the Philippians to rest in this good news. He calls them to action. Thoughts and prayers are important in times of struggle, and good and right, but they themselves cannot be the end. We must press on towards a more full participation in the life-giving transformative work that God has done and is doing in the world through Jesus Christ. This means being a witness of compassion and love, like those who rushed to provide medical attention and care for the injured. This means being engaged in measures that might prevent such attacks from happening in the future. This means looking around our own communities and asking if we are showing Christ to each other every day in ways that foster peace and usher in the kingdom of God. This means spending time in prayer and reflection on what our own “heavenly calls” might be, whether around these circumstances or others where we are passionate. Our work as disciples isn’t finished just because we are here confessing that Jesus Christ is Lord. In fact, that profession is just the beginning of the race and journey Paul talks about. And, it’s like the clichéd phrase reminds us, it isn’t a sprint; it’s a marathon.

The life of faith is about action and continued discernment. This is what “pressing on” toward Jesus is all about, and our text for today urges us to examine our own lives and consider how well or not the decisions we are making is leading us in closer relationship with Christ. This month at Heritage we have paired our stewardship season with these words from Paul, as an encouragement to us to think about our own engagement within this community as well as throughout our lives of faith. A few weeks ago, you should have received commitment cards that asked you to reflect on your financial, time, and talents. Our Stewardship and Finance committee along with the Deacons hope that you will take time to pray with these and see them as a spiritual growth opportunity. The intent of these cards is not to be an obligation or pressure to mark every item on a list, but is meant to be a way that we each make a commitment to Christ through the sharing of all we have been given, a promise to how we hope to look ahead and move forward as disciples of Jesus Christ through tangible ways. Perhaps, in one or more of these areas, you might consider pressing on to a deeper level of involvement. That might mean an increased financial gift, a resolution to attend worship more often, a commitment to pray daily for our congregation and its leaders, or a new way of volunteering your time and talents. Don’t just stay at a comfortable, easy pace with faith. Step up to the challenge of Paul’s race and stretch yourself a bit. You might just find that in doing so you own faith will be strengthened, and that you’re able to do more than you thought possible before. And, as you bring these cards to worship with you next week, remember they are not an end to themselves, but are a reminder that we are on a journey together, straining forward to what lies ahead.

As those on the road together, we are working toward a pretty big goal. Bigger than a “balanced budget,” or “increased worship attendance,” or more hands at the mobile food pantry. While all of these are indeed goals that we can and hopefully will accomplish together, if we only focus on these, we will miss the point of it all. Fortunately, Paul helps remind us. Our “goal” is to pursue the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus. That’s it. To be the most faithful in this time and place, and to press on to deeper levels of discipleship together, so that we might be transformed by the relationship we have with Jesus Christ. That’s why this has to be a process of prayer and conversation, attentive to our actions being a natural and earnest extension of our faith. This is what stewardship is all about.

Over the next week, I encourage you to take this passage to heart, and spend time in reflection and prayer with how you are running the race. Center yourself on Jesus and the call God is making to you, and press on to that goal of being the best disciple you can be with your time, your skills and abilities, and your financial resources. In striving towards this goal, the Psalmist’s words will ring true, and we will also be those who “tell of the glory of God[v].” May the words of our mouths, the meditations of our hearts, and all that we do in response, be done with this in mind, that they may be acceptable to God, our rock and our redeemer[vi]. Together, we press on. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
October 8, 2017

————————————————————–
[i] https://health.nokia.com/blog/2016/04/14/couch-to-5k-inventor-josh-clark/
[ii] Fred B. Craddock, Interpretation: Philippians, (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1985)
[iii] Annette Weissenreider, “Exegetical Perspective: Philippians 3:4b-14,” Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year A, Volume 4, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011.)
[iv] “Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus,” words and music by Helen H. Lemmel, 1922.
[v] Psalm 19:1
[vi] Psalm 19:14

Fitness: from Physical to Fiscal

October 2, 2017 Leave a Comment

Are you in shape? Frankly, it’s a question many of us avoid at all costs. Either we don’t know the answer, or we don’t like the truthful one. I asked myself this question about my physical health not too long ago, and realized the answer wasn’t what I wanted it to be. So, I’ve started to be more intentional about movement in my daily life, including time spent exercising. As additional motivation, I’m working on a “couch to 5k” plan, which is essentially interval training, where you increase the time spent running vs. walking. It’s hard. I know it’s good for me, but sometimes it’s a battle just talking myself into my sneakers. But, I’ve made a commitment to this program (and am now even further accountable by using it as an illustration here!), which helps me to stick to it. Stay tuned to find out how things are going.

Are you in shape? It’s a question that is about far more than just how far or fast you can run or what a scale might say. It is a question you can apply to virtually every aspect of your life, considering your level of “fitness” in a variety of areas. That, in a nutshell, is what stewardship season is all about. It’s a time when we reflect intentionally about how we are using the gifts God has given us. Through prayer and reflection, we engage in discernment and consider the areas in which God calls us to “keep going” with healthy patterns, and identify those areas when we might “press on” to greater goals with new practices. One way to do this is through the completion of your 2018 commitment cards, both the Financial and the Time and Talents. In doing this, we remember that all we have been given, from our money to our time to our abilities, are a gift from God, and we seek to give back in response, knowing that this giving will nurture our own relationship with God and will contribute to the successes of the ministries Christ has called us to here at Heritage.

I hope that you will take time with both of these commitment cards, making a pledge to your participation in the life of Heritage Presbyterian Church and presenting them in worship on October 15. Marking your intentions can be an excellent way to check-in with yourself, and hold yourself accountable to following through with your intentions to live your most faithful life here in this community. Your commitments also are instrumental to our leaders’ abilities to plan for the future. Your financial pledges allow our Session to make sure our congregation has a solid fiscal plan for the coming year. Your sharing of gifts and abilities strengthen our church’s ministries and remind us of the incredible diversity of God’s gifts and calls to us all. I firmly believe that through these gifts, the Holy Spirit is shaping the future of our congregation, and I am excited to work with you to “get in shape” as Christ’s disciples here at Heritage in 2018!

« Previous Page

1

2

3

4

Next Page »

Sunday’s Sermon – Purpose-Driven – Exodus 20:1-17, John 2:13-22

Sunday’s Sermon – Know Your Limits – 1 Corinthians 9:16-23

Sunday’s Sermon: First Responders, Mark 1:14-20

Sunday’s Sermon – Sleeping In – 1 Samuel 3:1-10, Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18

Sunday’s Sermon – A Star to Follow – Matthew 2:1-12

Sunday’s Sermon – Well-Fed – Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24; Matthew 25:31-46

Sunday’s Sermon – Digging Holes – Matthew 25:14-30

Sunday’s Sermon – Press On – Philippians 3:4b-14

Food Pantry

Church News

Upcoming Events

Worship