Heritage Presbyterian Church

Love Grows Here

Sunday’s Sermon – Powerless – 2 Corinthians 12:1-10

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Think of a time when your home lost power. In the summertime, these outages are hot, sticky, and frustrating. It disrupts every sense of normalcy we have about our lives, as we work on other arrangements, and mourn the loss of refrigerators and freezers full of food. As we have learned here about our new HVAC system, even a small blip in the power grid can prompt our new unit to shut off to protect the compressor – which is good for the longevity of the system, and less good when you have a hot sanctuary despite things looking like they are running properly on the thermostat. But more than just inconvenient, being without power is so hard because we realize how vulnerable we are to outside factors and sources. To play with the words a bit, we are “power-less,” both literally with the electricity outages, but also in other ways, unable to fully control the situation, forced into waiting it out and hoping for the best.  And no one likes to be powerless or weak.

Except maybe the Apostle Paul in today’s New Testament reading. His premise, on the surface, is a little ridiculous – weaknesses, Paul says, are good. In fact, that’s about what he will boast. He even goes so far as to add in the thorn in his side, persecutions and hardships to the list. It doesn’t make much sense, does it? Why on earth would we want to tell others about those places in our lives where we are imperfect? It goes against the very grain of our culture, which tells us to conceal our weaknesses, not boast about them. Focus on our strengths, minimize our shortcomings. Don’t admit when you don’t know the answer, just wing it. “Fake it ‘til you make it.” Nowhere in any of these words of advice are putting our weaknesses on display. After all, that would make us incredibly vulnerable, open to criticism, and frankly, less likely to succeed. Consider taking Paul’s advice on your next job interview. Go in and lay out all of your weaknesses, boast about the skills you lack. Probably won’t get you very far.

So what is Paul getting at? By the time this epistle was written, Paul already had a relationship with the church in Corinth. The church had been through challenges and complications, akin to many of the early churches, struggling with what it meant to live as a community of faith, particularly in circumstances where cultures and habits collided. But rather than focusing on these issues, this letter takes a different turn. Here he spends a lot of time defending his own position as an apostle. There’s a reason for this. Earlier he almost sarcastically mentions some “superapostles” who had been traveling around, teaching and preaching a gospel that differed slightly from Paul’s understanding. From the context of the letter, it seems that these leaders were asserting themselves in ways that Paul was not – from accepting financial support from the Corinthians for their ministry to simply being more charismatic in their visits. Rather than try to go “toe to toe” with these other leaders, Paul chooses another route: to use the perception of him as “wimpy” or “weak” as a strength.

This seems counter-intuitive to most of us. After all, if your authority as a leader is being threatened, why not defend yourself, pad that resume a bit if you have to, so that the church in Corinth will follow you? But Paul’s choice isn’t an oversight in church politics. He is a master rhetorician, and once again pushes his readers into considering something more. To understand it, we have to look more closely at what this weakness about which Paul boasts actually is. Theologian Karl Barth describes it in this way:

what is his weakness? Simply what remains of his Christian existence after it is stripped of the religious experience of which he could boast for good reason and in truth, but that means insults, hardships, persecutions, calamities for Christ’s sake (v. 10). There he sees the power of Christ dwelling in him; there he knows himself to be strong; there is what he boasts about[1].

For Paul, boasting about weakness is an entry point into boasting about God. Rather than taking an “I can do it all myself” attitude, allowing himself to be weak means that he is open to receiving help from someone far more powerful and strong – Jesus Christ. In essence, it is Paul getting out of the way of himself, out of the way of pride, so that God’s strength can be seen more clearly (see verse 9) and the church can get away from power struggles and spend time focusing more on faith development. In this text, he presents humility almost as hyperbole as one way of getting there.

Each week in worship, we follow this pattern as we expose our own weaknesses as Christ’s disciples. It’s called the prayer of confession. In these moments, both silently and together, we admit that we don’t have it all together. Most importantly, we invite God into the midst of our sinful places and ask for forgiveness, healing, and grace. We trust that God’s grace does prevail, that we are forgiven, and in response break out into songs of praise.This is the beautiful image of song revealed in the book of Revelation, and captured in the 19th century hymn “Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty,” written by pastor and missionary Reginald Heber for use on Trinity Sunday. In it, all of creation celebrates the eternal power of the God, with voices united in endless praise.

Rather than rely on our own power, which we know to be limited, we rely on God’s, which we know to be infinite. In order to fully understand what God’s love and grace is all about, we have to get out of our own ways. To be “powerless” and “weak,” if you will, like Paul. We must do so with care, for there are some tempting and common traps that we can fall into if we take this boasting in weakness business too far.

First, we can get hung up on our list of weaknesses. Overachievers among us will be tempted to create a long list of imperfections about which to boast. If we have to be weak, we might as well be the best at it, right? In the movie Notting Hill, this activity even becomes a dinner party game, with the person who has the saddest story winning the last brownie in the pan. And it happens in real life, too. You all probably know someone in your life who always has to “one up” any story you tell. Good or bad, this person always seems to have had a life experience that’s just a touch more extreme than your story. If you share, for example, a physical weakness, such as back pain, this individual immediately jumps in with a story about how she threw out her back once, and it was ten times worse than what you had experienced. This is certainly boasting in weakness, but it’s not what Paul is talking about.

For Paul, the boasting is only a means of entry, a way of reminding ourselves who is really in charge in the world – God. So don’t get caught up in naming or proclaiming your weaknesses either. It’s not about you, after all. Instead, get caught up in inviting God into those places in your life. Boasting in weakness means flinging the doors to our weak places open and making space for God to work within us. Because when we get out of our own way, checking pride at the door, we are better able to dwell with Christ in an honest relationship that truly makes us strong.

Second, once we have our laundry list of imperfections, we can fall into the trap of using them as a cop-out for not acting in the world. We can say “oh, I’m weak. I can’t possibly do that. It’s just not in my skill set.” Eventually with this pattern, we wind up not doing anything at all.  God doesn’t promise to swoop in where we are weak and just fix things for us. I can’t simply say “I am a really slow runner and tire out quickly,” and then expect the Holy Spirit to do its thing and suddenly help me run a marathon. One of my favorite scenes from the movie Evan Almighty involves God, undercover as a fellow diner at a restaurant, speaking with Evan’s wife. She is lamenting how hard things are sometimes, and is looking for answers that don’t seem to be coming anytime soon. God, portrayed by Morgan Freeman, poses some questions back to her:

If someone prays for patience, you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient? If he prayed for courage, does God give him courage, or does he give him opportunities to be courageous? If someone prayed for the family to be closer, do you think God zaps them with warm fuzzy feelings, or does he give them opportunities to love each other?[2]

Something similar could be said in the way God works through our weaknesses. When we admit them, does God simply come in and patch things up, or does God give us the opportunity to work on them, promising love and support through the Holy Spirit and through others, so that we can, with God’s help, be made strong? Our strength comes from God, who made heaven and earth, and each one of us in God’s own image. God has promised to continue to strengthen us in all we say and in all we do. God doesn’t promise that it will be easy, doesn’t assure us that we won’t be weak. Rather, God promises to be with us even in our weakness. And I believe God surrounds us with a great cloud of witnesses to help make that possible. Through Christ, we are assured that none of us have to endure hardship alone. Suffering is neither God’s design nor the end result.

Remember Paul’s complaining about the thorn in his side? His begging God to remove it? God’s reply is simple, “my grace is sufficient.” That grace comes from Jesus Christ, who conquers all. By grace, God sent Christ into the world, to walk with us, to strengthen us and show us how to live, to heal us, and most importantly, to save us. Elsewhere Paul writes to the Philippians “I can do all things through him who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13). This is what makes us strong – not anything we do or don’t do, but God’s grace alone. It is a gift, ready and waiting for each one of us, if we can be so bold, so crazy, so ridiculously counter-cultural, to be like Paul and boast in our weaknesses, getting out of our own way so that Christ may dwell more fully within us and work for transformation and reconciliation in our lives and in the world. When we are grounded not in our own egos and agendas but in truly seeking to embody our Savior, it is then where we will find the power and strength to live into our calling as followers of Jesus.

This morning’s hymn doesn’t have a particularly unique story behind it as some of our others have this summer, but it does give voice to Paul’s words about our power coming from Christ and nothing else. “All Hail the Power of Jesus’ Name” is known as the “National Anthem of Christendom.” It:

first appeared in the November 1779 issue of the Gospel Magazine, edited by August        Toplady, who wrote “Rock of Ages.” This text has been translated into almost every            language where Christianity is known; and wherever it is sung, it communicates the            spiritual needs of human hearts. One writer has said, “So long as there are Christians on       earth, it will continue to be sung; and after that, in heaven” [i].

So may we join our voices again with the saints and angels in heaven, giving God all glory, honor, and praise, and proclaiming with our lips the source of all our strength is indeed in Jesus Christ our Lord. Let us sing:

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford

July 8, 2018

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[1]                      Karl Barth, On Religion: The Revelation of God as the Sublimination of Religion, trans. Garrett Green (New York: T&T Clark, 2006), 92.

[2]                      http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0413099/quotes

[i]Kenneth W. Osbeck, 101 Hymn Stories: The Inspiring True Stories Behind 101 Favorite Hymns, (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications, 2012).

Sunday’s Sermon: Good Foundations – 1 Corinthians 3:10-15, Matthew 7:24-27

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I love home renovation shows. I’m a particular sucker for the Property Brothers. It’s fascinating to watch them transform spaces with facelifts that make them look and feel like totally new homes. Once you’ve watched a few episodes, you feel like an expert yourself, and learn to expect a few things along the way, like when renovating older homes, there will always be some surprises, from its asbestos under the tiles to knob and tube wiring. Recently in the competition series Brother vs Brother, both brothers discovered their projects had some considerable structural issues. Walls had to be completely rebuilt, and they poured more new foundation and footings for posts than either of them expected. Thousands of dollars and several days later, they could continue where they left off. It was definitely a set-back, but clear that he had no other option. Like many of these obstacles, the solutions are pretty straightforward: the “bones” and structure of the house have to be attended to in order for any further work to be safe and successful.

Good foundations matter. That is the theme carried in both of our scripture readings for today. In Matthew’s gospel, they come as words from Jesus himself at the end of the sermon on the mount. These chapters have outlined what it means to be a disciple, beginning with a list of blessings, the Beatitudes. They speak to the nuts and bolts of living out our lives of faith in relation to others, particularly those who are challenging to us. And then Jesus wraps it up with this final reminder that takes us almost back to the beginning. In order to be strong and faithful, his followers must ground themselves in the words he has spoken, just as a person builds a house on a rock. Inaction on these instructions are like building on sand. Things are going to shift, and the wind and rain will quickly cause its demise. It’s a pretty straightforward message about taking this lengthy hillside sermon not just to heart, but into tangible action as well.

As people of faith, our foundations should be in the promises from God; those outlined by Christ himself and those proclaimed throughout the entirety of scripture. They are the bedrocks of our faith that allow us to build our lives in a way that is shaped by our relationship with the Divine. These foundations are what many of our most loved hymns proclaim, distilling our faith into the critical aspects worth repeating in song to commit them to our memories. Some of these central promises are featured in the hymn How Firm a Foundation. In 1787, a British Baptist pastor named John Rippon published a church hymnal with an extensive collection of hymns to serve as an appendix to Dr Watt’s Psalms and Hymns, including this classic which was originally titled “Exceedingly Great and Precious Promises[i].” The author is unknown, but attributed a “K,” which most scholars assume references his Minister of Music, Robert Keene, who helped put the collection together. The seven original stanzas were based on various biblical promises from Scripture, including Isaiah 41:10, “do not fear, for I am with you”; Isaiah 43:2, “when you pass through the waters, I will be with you”; 2 Corinthians 12:9, “my grace is sufficient for you”; and Hebrews 13:5, “I will never leave you or forsake you.” Sound familiar? The hymn speaks them almost verbatim. Together, it serves as one hymnologist puts it, like “a sermon in verse[ii].” It’s not surprising that this hymn has become a favorite of Christians, including several notable American leaders including Teddy Roosevelt. It is a song that helps us cling to the promises of our faith and remind ourselves of where we are rooted. Singing about these foundations of faith provide us comfort in facing the storms, and the strength on which to build our responses to them.

Paul, master of mixing metaphors, takes on the illustration of building in 1 Corinthians 3 in relation to what it means to be the church. These verses speak to the importance of the urgency of constructing a church with integrity. The first step, of course, is to pay attention to the foundation, which can only be Jesus Christ. Keep in mind that in the early church, references to building would not have been about physical edifices. Paul wasn’t presenting a capital campaign. The word used for church in Greek, ekklesia, refers not to any kind of structure, but rather a gathering of people.

Paul’s architectural imagery serves to draw the Corinthians’ attention to the nature of their community . . . He calls the community to be self-reflective and to evaluate what they and their leaders are building[iii].

A lot of times we think about the early church as some sort of perfect utopian community of believers who all shared everything without any disagreement. The totality of Paul’s letters, particularly 1 Corinthians, quickly corrects us of this misnomer, and reminds us that from the beginning the church has wrestled with what it means to be faithful to the gospel of Jesus Christ. W. Michael Chittum reminds us this is still a challenge for us today:

Every Christian church, from the most liberal to the most conservative, makes the claim that it is based on the foundation of Jesus Christ, and many condemn and exclude those who disagree with their own particular theological interpretations. Do the differences in theological approaches by these differing churches constitute changing the foundation, or is it only a difference in the “stuff” constructed on the foundation? (see 1 Cor. 3:12-15)[iv]

I am struck by this every time I engage with Christians who aren’t from our particular denominational tradition, and even sometimes with whose who are as faithful to being Presbyterian as I am. This week, I had the joy of spending time with a new group of siblings in Christ at a gathering of the Cherokee County Ministerial Association. On Wednesday, 32 of us gathered for lunch, representing a variety of congregations and faith-based non-profits around the county. As introductions were made, part of me quickly felt like a fish out of water, with so many coming from more evangelical and non-denominational traditions. I admit my own bias was that I would not have much in common with those Christians, some of whom have traditions that don’t often embrace women as pastors, for example. But, as tends to happen with God, I was humbled and reminded to be open as the discussion began and the leader talked about the importance of a shared faith together and unity in Christ. He shared news of conversations happening around racial reconciliation in Cherokee County, and a shared worship event at the Woodstock Amphitheater on the evening of July 29th with over 25 churches already participating. We heard from a free medical clinic in Canton and their ministry of care to those who are uninsured or underinsured. In all of this, our common cause was not just to “do good,” but based in the foundation of being followers of Jesus Christ. It was a reminder that even with all of our differences (and there are some theological and practical ones that matter to me!), our foundation is the same. Sometimes, in a group of other Christians who see things differently, that can be a hard thing to say with confidence. We get caught up in the nuance. Maybe we should try to be more caught up in Jesus instead.

But even that might not free us from controversy. In the 4th century, theologians like Origen and Arius got into intense fighting with Athanasius and others regarding whether God the Father and God the Son were one and the same substance. Interestingly, this conversation was in part prompted by the Emperor Constantine’s attempts to unify and establish a single, approved Christian faith during his reign. In seminary, our church history professor shared with us a clever song designed to identify the complicated theological arguments, set to the tune of “Supercalifragilisticexpialoadocius” from Mary Poppins, written by a former student named Dan Idzikowski, retitled “superchristological and homoousiosis.” Put in non-tongue-twisting terms, it was this work begun at the council of Nicea and continuing in additional conversations in Chalcedon and Constantinople that led to our understand of God being one substance but three persons existing in balance and inextricable relationship with one another. What we believe about Jesus Christ as the foundation certainly matters. And while difficult, I think those conversations matter, particularly for what it means to be the church, because they mean we are, as Paul hopes, paying attention to the foundation on which everything is built.

That is also part of the story behind another hymn “The Church’s One Foundation.” In the mid-1900s, the Church of England was embroiled in theological controversy of its own after a book was written by one of the influential Anglican bishops, John William Colenso, which attacked the historical accuracy of the Pentateuch, the first 5 books of what we know as the Old Testament. Pastor Samuel J. Stone was deeply bothered by this book.

Stone was known as a man of spotless character; he was chivalrous toward the weak and needy, yet he was a violent fighter for the conservative faith that was being so sternly attacked in his day. He refused to compromise one iota before Higher Criticism and the evolutionary philosophies that were becoming increasingly popular. A personal faith in the inspired Scriptures was enough for him . . . He wanted to combat the attacks of modern scholarship and liberalism which he felt would soon divide and destroy the church[v].

In response, then, he wrote a collection of 12 hymns, “Lyra of the Faithful,” all based on the Apostles’ Creed. “The Church’s One Foundation” was based on the Ninth Article of the Creed, which begins with the phrase “the holy catholic church” – catholic meaning universal. Stone was insistent that:

The unity of the Church must rest solely with a recognition of the Lordship of Christ as its head and not on the views and interpretations of men[vi].

Although I don’t agree with many of the finer points of Stone’s arguments, and am grateful for the work of scholars in theology and biblical interpretation that I believe has been guided by the Holy Spirit to move us forward, I agree wholeheartedly with his assertion that the foundation of the church must always remain in Jesus Christ. What we build on that foundation, the work of our communities of faith, will be tested and refined over time by God, just as Paul indicates in 1 Corinthians. Our theology matters because it impacts what is built upon it. Paying attention to the foundations, even things that might seem on the surface as no-brainers, like believing in Jesus Christ, bears implications for what structures become put on top of it. When we talk, then, about what it means to be the church, and how we “do ministry” together – whether it is a stewardship campaign or a slip and slide on the church lawn, a closet of clothing for people in need, or selections of hymns in worship, we have to think about the theology that undergirds these decisions. Part of our responsibility as the church is to make sure that whatever we are doing, we are doing on the foundation of our understanding of Jesus Christ as Lord.  The same is true for our lives beyond these walls; we must ground them in the foundations of Christ. If we lose sight of that, we have lost sight of the gospel. That’s why hymns, I think, are so important. They remind us to not lose what is most important, and they bring us back home again to the good news. They unite more than just our voices; they unite us in faith and in proclaiming that in the midst of all we might see differently, together we proclaim the same Lord, now and forever. Confident of that harmony which we share, let us stand and sing together:

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford

July 1, 2018

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[i] Robert J. Morgan, Then Sings My Soul: 150 of the World’s Greatest Hymn Stories, (Nashville, TN: W Publishing Group, 2011).

[ii] Kenneth W. Osbeck, 101 Hymn Stories: The Inspiring True Stories Behind 101 Favorite Hymns, (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications, 1982).

[iii] Melanie Johnson-Debaufre, “1 Corinthians 3:10-11, 16-23: Exegetical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).

[iv] W. Michael Chittum, “1 Corinthians 3:10-11, 16-23: Theological Perspective,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).

[v] Kenneth W. Osbeck, 101 Hymn Stories: The Inspiring True Stories Behind 101 Favorite Hymns, (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Publications, 1982).

[vi] Osbeck.

Sunday’s Sermon – First Things First, Matthew 6:25-34; Deuteronomy 6:1-9

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This is Our Story, This is Our Song: Summer Sermon Series 2018 (week one)

129. That is the number of e-mails I returned to find this week in my church e-mail inbox. Full disclosure. I have not read them all. Not even close in fact, since I was only in the office one day. Alongside the “snail mail” and other notes on my desk, I had quite a bit stack up while I was gone. It wasn’t all together surprising, in fact the number of e-mails was less than I feared it might be. And here I thought it would be an easy time to get away. It seems that business is even true in the summertime, a season when deceptively we tend to think there is less to do. And yet, whether it’s ongoing work or planning a family trip or just figuring out when you can mow your yard in between rain drops, there seems to be just as much “stuff” in our lives to contend with. As I took a quick survey of the tasks at hand, I realized quickly that I needed to develop some sort of plan of attack if I was to accomplish anything. I remembered the all-to-true cliched question: How do you eat an elephant? (one bite at a time).

Toward the end of his sermon on the Mount in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus gives similar advice. In previous verses (going back to chapter 5), Jesus has given his followers a primer for what it means to be a disciple, from caring for others to how to pray. Here, though, he provides some tactile instructions relating to their relationship with gaining and spending money. The disciples around him, and perhaps their culture in general too, seemed to be in a tizzy with worry. The details of logistics and genuine practical concerns consumed them. It makes sense. They left their livelihoods to follow this curious man, all that they had known and all that provided them security. But Jesus tells them not to worry. Just sit back, and “God will provide.” Taken at just face value, it seems to imply that we have no real responsibility for caring for the basic needs of ourselves or others. That seems to be a dangerous theological approach to living, and on that poses serious ethical questions of entitlement and leads us to a prosperity gospel in which those with enough faith get taken care of, and even are emboldened to ask for ludicrous things like like $54 million dollar jets; while those who struggling are categorized as simply not having enough faith, or worse, being loved less by God. That type of thinking seems pretty contradictory to the gospel message, the “good news” of our Lord and Savior, both in the 1st century and today.

Perhaps, then, we might look at this teaching from Christ as having another angle; similar to other parables and metaphors, it uses language that is more poetry than prose. As writer Douglas R. A. Hare notes:

“The birds of heaven” and “the lilies of the field” become larger than life. They are not models to be imitated but powerful symbols of God’s providential care . . .The rhetorical             development of these symbols draws our attention away from our frantic pursuit of the necessities of life to a calmer vision of God’s bountiful care in the natural world[i].

Such a focus might redirect our attention away from those things that keep us spinning toward a renewed understanding of an ever-present God who is engaged and active in our world. It is God stepping in to the most anxious moments in our life with a reassurance that it is going to be ok, because God’s got us in all of this, and through Jesus we are able to again see the big picture of what God has in mind for the world – namely, love and care for all of God’s creation.

Just over a week ago I had the amazing opportunity to attend an ecumenical preaching conference known as the Festival of Homiletics. This year it was held in Washington, D.C., and continued its tradition of bringing some of the best preachers and theologians of the Christian faith for inspiring sermons and reflections on the craft of preaching. As I have described it to some of you, it’s having those names on the spines of the books on my theological shelf come to life: Walter Brueggemann, Otis Moss, III, Anna Carter Florence, Richard Rohr, Diana Butler Bass, and more. They were inspiring and challenging and uplifting to more than 1500 of us preachers who gathered to consider how we might better proclaim the good news each week from the pulpit and in our lives as well. In addition to the Festival, another event happened in D.C. that week. On Thursday evening, I attended a worship service and prayer vigil with the Reclaiming Jesus movement. In association with the Sojourners, 23 elders from various denominations of the Christian faith gathered this Lent and reflected on the state of Christianity in our country and world. Through study, prayer, and conversation, they noted this:

We are living through perilous and polarizing times as a nation, with a dangerous crisis of  moral and political leadership at the highest levels of our government and in our  churches. We believe the soul of the nation and the integrity of faith are now at stake.

It is time to be followers of Jesus before anything else—nationality, political party, race, ethnicity, gender, geography—our identity in Christ precedes every other identity. We pray   that our nation will see Jesus’ words in us. “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35)[ii].

In response to the worry, and toil, and spinning of our world, these 23 elders put forth an incredible statement with 6 essential assertions of what it means to claim Jesus Christ as Lord. You can read the full statement, which is subtitled “A Confession of Faith in a Time of Crisis” at http://www.ReclaimingJesus.org. But here is a brief summary of its main confessions of faith:

  1. WE BELIEVE each human being is made in God’s image and likeness (Genesis 1:26).
  2. WE BELIEVE we are one body. In Christ, there is to be no oppression based on race, gender, identity, or class (Galatians 3:28).
  3. WE BELIEVE how we treat the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, the stranger, the sick, and the prisoner is how we treat Christ himself. (Matthew 25: 31-46)
  4. WE BELIEVE that truth is morally central to our personal and public lives.
  5. WE BELIEVE that Christ’s way of leadership is servanthood, not domination.
  6. WE BELIEVE Jesus when he tells us to go into all nations making disciples (Matthew 28:18)[iii] 

It is a powerful statement of faith. It was even more incredible to hear so many leaders in the Christian faith speak to these statements, from Bishop Michael Curry (yes, the one who preached at the royal wedding) to Tony Campolo to the legendary James Forbes and more. As they spoke about each of these statements, a common theme emerged – this is what it means to say Jesus Christ is Lord. The biblical references from both the Old and New Testaments were rich, and the energy in the packed National City Church was brimming. As we professed our faith in word and song, at one point the more than 1,000 who were gathered joined in unison to repeat “Jesus Christ is Lord!” The crowd was diverse. It was far more than just us preacher folks, and included young and old, male and female, different cultural and social backgrounds, and many different denominations. I truly felt like I was in the presence of a great cloud of witnesses. That evening I was tremendously moved by the Spirit and incredibly aware of God’s presence that I couldn’t help but be re-energized for the work of a calling to ministry to proclaim such good news; and at the same time truly humbled by the enormity of the task and terrified I might not be able to do it, to do God, justice.

As I read the passage from Matthew upon my return, I wonder if that is the feeling the disciples might have had during the Sermon on the Mount. They had been given a high calling, an exciting one, and then suddenly be swept up in the worry that you might not be able to handle it. Then, the many practical reasons this is all going to blow up in your face start to come. How will you eat? What will you wear? What will people think about you if you just start talking all the time about Jesus?  Perhaps the disciples are also struck by the enormity of the task Jesus is presenting – spreading the good news of God’s love in revolutionary ways is HUGE. It is not something accomplished in one day. Or one lifetime. Or even twenty centuries. It is ongoing work, and such important work that it is bound to make faithful disciples worry if we are doing enough. To this, Jesus speaks words of calm, akin to his popular refrain, “Peace, be still.” Stop putting your energy into worry and toil, Jesus says, and instead focus on the one who has provided everything and still cares for you. Instead of just plowing through a to-do list of tasks, seek something else first – the kingdom of God. For followers of Jesus, that is the first bite we should take of the elephant of discipleship.

This is a simple instruction worth remembering. It might have even reminded those who were Jewish of the central prayer and instruction God gave to the people Israel as recorded in Deuteronomy 6, verses 4 and 5. It is known as the Shema, which means hearing or obeying, and reminds the people that the most important thing they can do as God’s own is to remember that God is God alone, and that we are to love God with all we’ve got. In fact, this is the call Jesus will refer to later in the gospel as the most important commandment. But he also echoes it, I think, in this portion of the sermon on the mount, particularly in verse 33 when followers are instructed to first seek the kingdom of God. Both of these, along with countless other reminders in Scripture, remind us that if we are to call ourselves children of God, and if we are to claim that we follow Jesus, we need to put first things first. And what comes first needs to be God.

In Deuteronomy, the people are instructed to repeat the shema, sharing them with children at home and away, and binding them literally to themselves, lest they forget their importance. I think one of the ways we as people of faith live into this instruction to carry our faith with us is through song. More than perhaps any other experience or practice of faith, music seems to stay with me. It gets stuck in my head and is what I can return to when things are tough. As the chorus from Blessed Assurance goes, “this is my story; this is my song!” The hymns and songs of our faith help proclaim our story, God’s story, in ways that stick with us and inspire us to lead compelling lives of faith that matter. Over the next two months, we will connect one or more of these great hymns to the stories of Scripture and learn a bit more about their background in the process.

This week is one of our most literal connections, with the popular hymn “Seek Ye First,” which directly quotes Matthew 6:33 from the King James Version. It was written by Karen Lafferty in the early 1970s. Shortly before then, Karen was putting her music degree to use as an entertainer in a nightclub in New Orleans. A friend came to visit her and reminded her of the importance of the Christian faith in which she had been raised, one she had paid less attention to in her search for herself as a young adult. Something shifted within her, and she moved to California and soon became involved with a community of young musicians at Calvary Chapel. What is now a major Christian music label, Maranatha! Music, was just getting its start in very informal ways, as this group tried to figure out how to serve God through music. One evening, after a Bible study on Matthew 6, Karen was struck by verse 33 and followed the trend of other musicians at the time by setting it to music, complete with an Alleluia descant[iv]. It became one of the hit songs on Maranatha! Music’s first album, Praise 1, with additional related verses from Scripture added at later dates. It continues to be in the majority of hymnals today and is one of the most well known modern songs of praise in the Christian faith[v]. While Lafferty’s ministry of music continued, as she now serves in mission with music internationally, this is considered her “one-hit-wonder.” The words, by design, are simple and reflective, almost a prayerful singing of the biblical text, but I believe the combination with the tune also captures the essence of the passage, a calming reassurance of God’s presence, and a commitment we each make as singers to put God first. As we proclaim our faith in song today, I invite you to consider this a prayer and an offering to God, and hope that this will be a song to carry you this week as you seek to follow Christ by putting God first. Together, let us claim God’s story, our story, in song:

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
June 3, 2018

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[i]      Douglas R. A. Hare, Matthew: Interpretation, a Bible Commentary for teaching and preaching, (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1993), 74.
[ii]     http://www.reclaimingjesus.org/
[iii]    Read the full statement and accompanying information at www.reclaimingjesus.org
[iv]    To hear Karen’s description of this story, check out https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7p9UN7DAmV4, accessed 6/2/18.
[v]     Additional descriptions of the hymn’s history can be found here: https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/resources/history-of-hymns-seek-ye-first and here: https://www.reformedworship.org/article/march-1990/seek-ye-first-interview-karen-lafferty. Both accessed 6/2/18.

Sunday’s Sermon – On the Vine – John 15:1-8

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A few years ago I went to a fundraiser for a local charity with some of my church members. It was sponsored by one of those groups that does paint nights, where you start with a blank canvas, and then an artist guides you step by step through a series of strokes, one section at a time. By the end of the night, viola!! You have a beautiful painting that looks like you knew what you were doing . . . most of the time at least. Painting is not my skill set, so I was rightly apprehensive about this endeavor, but I was assured that it would be fun regardless. I’d seen amazing results from friends, posts of pictures of scenic skylines and still life. The picture for the evening was relatively simple, and I picked up a paintbrush and tried very hard to follow what the leader was both saying and showing. Here is my end result. Not too bad actually. Definitely something I would never have been able to do on my own, though, even if I had seen the sample image to copy. But, when guided through it step by step, I was able to produce something that looked halfway decent. The key, I learned, was not necessarily to get ahead of myself, but instead follow the artist leading me, offering the next step and gently suggesting edits for when I had missed the mark. The end result came about because I was willing to trust the process.

In many ways, this is similar to the illustration Jesus uses in today’s passage. He speaks about the growing process of a vineyard, the step-by-step work of the vinegrower that is necessary in order for the end result to be good. Just as the artist leading us didn’t just hand us some paint and tell us to go to town, the vinegrower doesn’t just toss out some seeds and hope for the best. It takes time, tending and pruning, attending to different growth needs, and trust in the process. While not a perfect metaphor, it is a beautiful and complex one with many applications. This week I spent a little time looking at some comprehensive videos produced by the Monticello Wine Company about a year on the vine. It was fascinating. One of the introductory notes from the narrator was “the key to great wine is great fruit[i].” That is where the vinegrower puts their attention if they want to be successful. It is a quite lengthy process, too. Did you know it can take up to three years before a grapevine will produce fruit that is even worth considering to be made into wine? It’s fascinating timing considering this story, as its assumed Jesus spent roughly three years in ministry. What is more, many vineyards wait another two or more years to reach optimum quality. So perhaps, with this text, Jesus is helping to prepare the disciples for continued maturation by setting them up for a process through which they might continue to grow, and hopefully bear good fruit.

This text comes in the midst of his final discourse, or teaching, to his disciples, and he utilizes a common image of the day – the vineyard – to help the disciples understand what living as Christ’s people would look like. It is important to note that this is not just any parable or allegory, but rather is what is known as:
a mashal, a Semitic form that includes and image and its application to real life[ii].
Such a format would have been common in the Jewish religious tradition, as evidenced by its recurring presence in the Talmud. As Osvaldo Vena summarizes:

The vine was a common image used in the Hebrew Bible to speak of Israel as God’s people and conveyed the ideas of divine love and divine judgment. We can see this in Isaiah 5:1-7, the song of the unfruitful vineyard, where instead of grapes (justice) God finds wild grapes (bloodshed). The same idea is present in Jeremiah 5:10 and Jeremiah 12:10-11, but not so in Isaiah 27:2-6, where a reversal of the earlier song occurs, and now Israel is depicted as a fruitful vine[iii].

With such a reference, Jesus would have tapped in to the richness of the tradition with such an image, interpreting it in a new light for his disciples. The vinegrower is still God, but the vine is no longer Israel; it is Jesus. Again, the gospel message expands a far and as wide as the vine can grow. The writer of the gospel of John masterfully crafts the image of something well known in order to bring deeper understanding. Jesus Christ changes everything, and it is connection to him that will bring life, new life, life abundant. This text is one more opportunity for the disciples to root themselves in Christ and prepare for the good news that is to come with the resurrection in just a few more chapters.

The same message is true for us today, as those who seek to follow Christ. We often comment that we want to “grow in faith” or “bear good fruit,” and texts like this one help us remember where to start. We need to be on the vine, connected to Jesus. To put ourselves in this position, the one that will help us grow, is not without risk or challenge. The imagery reminds us that on the vine we will be subject to pruning. Now, I don’t think this means we will be cut off from the vine itself, but the parts of us that aren’t bearing fruit may need to be trimmed away in order for us to truly thrive. That is part of the work of discipleship, as we let go of those things that are not bringing us life or drawing us closer to God, creating space in our lives that growth might happen. In another part of the video from Monticello, the grower notes that one of the things that often contributes to growth is stress. That’s right, stress. In response to stress, the plant will often focus its energies on its progeny, the grapes, to make them as desirable as possible to birds and bees, in order to survive.  Likewise, we might note that in our own lives of faith, it might be in times of stress and change, both positive and negative, where we experience the greatest amount of growth in our relationship to God. So perhaps, we might benefit by putting our lives of faith under a bit of examination and open ourselves up to processes of pruning in order to grow. Change certainly won’t be easy, but it may just be what we need to help us bear the best fruit.

This text invites us to trust in the process, even when it is difficult and takes us out of our comfort zone. To do so means we must be brave.  Consider this poem by Micky ScottBey Jones:

Together we will create brave space

Because there is not such thing as a “safe space” –

We exist in the real world

We all carry scars and we have all caused wounds.

In this space

We seek to turn down the volume of the outside world,

We amplify voices that fight to be heard elsewhere,

We call each other to more truth and love

We have the right to start somewhere and continue to grow.

We have the responsibility to examine what we think we know.

We will not be perfect

This space will not be perfect.

It will not always be what we wish it to be.

But

It will be our brave space together,

And,

We will work on it side by side[iv].

 

This should be our vision for the church; a brave space in which we might be “on the vine” together, being pruned and growing in faith all at the hand of God through the life-giving vine of the Holy Spirit. That is the image I hope we might see when we gather here. This weekend our incoming officers spent time together, learning and laughing and preparing for another year of leadership with our returning officers. We made new connections with each other, and I hope with God as well. In one of the videos we watched, we were reminded that at the heart of what it means to be Presbyterian is that we do this thing called faith together. The good news is, that work is never done alone. I have yet to see a vineyard with only one little plant. There are rows and rows of them, with buckets full of fruit that are smashed together to create a delicious end result, whether it’s the Welch’s in our communion cups or your favorite vintage in the cellar. Collectively, we are a vineyard, growing together in Christ. We are called into connectional relationship with one another, and at the root of it all, if we have any hope of thriving, is our individual and communal relationships with Christ, who is the head of the church. It is Christ who invites us into this intertwined relationship, just as he invited his followers long ago as recorded in John 15. So let’s join together, on the vine, and be bearers of good fruit for the glory of God, who planted seeds in us long ago, and isn’t done tending to us. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
April 29, 2018

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[i] “Making Wine: In the Vineyard – Anatomy of a Grapevine,” Monticello Wine Company, posted February 9, 2016, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9aCFjEc1rgY, accessed 4/25/18.
[ii] Osvaldo Vena, “Commentary on John 15:1-8,” Working Preacher Website, April 29, 2018, https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3631, accessed 4/25/18.
[iii] Ibid.
[iv] Micky ScottBey Jones, “An Invitation to Brave Space,” The peoplessupper.org, https://static1.squarespace.com/static/595e51dbd1758e528030285b/t/5978dca7d7bdcee0e2be6a99/1503506626330/FAQ-brave-space.png, accessed 4/25/18.

Sunday’s Sermon – Caretakers of Creation – 1 John 3:16-24

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Being in love can make us do some pretty unusual and outright crazy things. Remember when Tom Cruise jumped on Oprah’s couch? Perhaps you have a “friend” with an impulsive tattoo. Affection for another changes our brain chemistry, and alters the way we interact in some ways. It doesn’t always have to be extreme, necessarily. It could be as simple as picking up a favorite candy bar or flowers, just because you saw them and thought of that special someone, or taking on that extra task around the house because you know they hate to do it, even though truthfully you do as well. That’s love. It’s not restricted to a significant other, of course. Parents are known for actions towards their children that clearly are only done out of love, whether it’s putting out a hand for their toddler’s half-chewed food, or sitting through eighteen intermediate piano students playing “The Entertainer” at a concert. We also extend such loving courtesies to friends. How many times have you ever done someone a favor and replied “you know I’m only doing this because I love you, right?” In a variety of ways, it is clear that one way we show love is through our actions.

That is the heart of today’s message from 1 John. In this letter, the writer essentially interprets the gospel of John for a new generation. Throughout this general letter, patterns of recurring themes emerge. He fleshes out a bit more about what Jesus meant by that commandment to “love one another,” and “serve each other” in ways that were directly relatable to those reading his words. He is a wise veteran Christian leader, who: continues to help the young believers and their struggling churches to deal with the challenges of their new faith[i].

Although his context is not immediately clear, his interpretation of the relevance of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection is to the point.

I love how Eugene Peterson paraphrases the central idea of the text in verse 18:

My dear children, let’s not just talk about love; let’s practice real love. This is the only way we’ll know we’re living truly, living in God’s reality[ii].

The writer of 1 John knows that love is revealed in one’s actions, and love always starts with God. The origin of this, of course, is in remembering the love with which God sent Jesus Christ into the world, and the love of Christ’s action of laying down his life for us. There is no greater love than this. The actions of God reveal to us God’s love. Jesus Christ, in the flesh, is evidence of God’s love in the world.

The pairing for this text in the lectionary is from John’s gospel, which alongside other texts for the day, is what gives this fourth Sunday of Easter the nickname “Good Shepherd Sunday.” On this day, we are called to think about the role Christ played as Shepherd, and God plays as caretaker in our lives. Specifically, we are invited to note the way the shepherd sets aside selfish ambition and personal interests for the needs of the sheep – sacrifice. This framework offers a perfect backdrop for the instructions in 1 John, because it sets up the foundation of serving and caring for others as the basis for our lives, if we truly wish to be ones who consider ourselves followers of the Good Shepherd.

The love of God through Jesus Christ should inspire us. That’s the writer’s point. It’s a pretty simple and straightforward understanding of discipleship: because God loves us, we are called to love one another. On the whole, I think we are good with articulating this vision of what it means to be Christian, particularly inside these walls on a Sunday morning. We can even become quite good about talking about God’s love for us, and how we should love our neighbors. Of course, it’s not quite as easy to live out as it is to say. The grit of everyday puts countless opportunities in front of us to love people, not in some theoretical, abstract way, but in the right in front of you, staring you in the face kind of way. And more often than not, what stares you in the face is exactly what gets on your last nerve, or what you don’t have time for that day. This is where the rubber meets the road in our faith, and our text reminds us of our calling. Or, to put it another way, as author and pastor A. W. Tozer said:

we cannot pray in love and live in hate and still think we are worshipping God.

Instead we are called to love. And it starts with what is right in front of us. So while this may seem like a passage that doesn’t exactly break any revolutionary news to us about what it means to follow Christ, it probably is one we need to hear repeatedly in order for it to really sink in. Going further, he reminds us that the presence of such loving actions is how we know that we are truly following God and living in God’s kingdom here and now.

One example of this is through Santa’s Caravan, who will welcome the Georgia Boy Choir here this afternoon at 4 pm for an incredible benefit concert followed by dinner. It’s more than just a time to enjoy world-class music. It is supporting a ministry that lives out what 1 John is talking about. The roots of this program came from a wonderful volunteer working in our food pantry looking in the eyes of brothers and sisters in need, realizing that for some children, right in our adjacent neighborhoods, Christmas would not be bringing the same kind of joy that so many others had. Now, years later, we still look eye to eye with our brothers and sisters in need, and Santa’s Caravan is one way we live out the love in action of the gospel, providing gifts and food yes, but also providing connection and hope, acknowledgement and support. There is no doubt in my mind, having experienced only two of these incredible seasons so far, that God’s Spirit is present in this work.

There are many other examples, of course, of what it looks like to care for those around us. But today I want to offer one more that might take us on a slightly different course, yet still within the realm of I think where the passage leads. As you might have noted on your calendars, today is also Earth Day, a now worldwide tradition spanning back 48 years. According to EarthDay.org, the idea of this day came from then U.S. Senator Gaylord Nelson of Wisconsin, after witnessing the ravages of a massive oil spill in Santa Barbara, California in 1969. He tapped into the emerging public consciousness about air and water pollution and brought environmental protection onto the national political agenda, by encouraging Congress to pursue a “national teach-in” on the environment. What resulted was about 20 million Americans demonstrating on April 22, 1970, realizing that although their specific passions were different, from oil spills to polluting factories to loss of wilderness and extinction of wildlife, they shared common values – they wanted to be caretakers of creation. Today, it is estimated that over 1 billion people in 192 countries[iii].

If we are called, as God’s created and loved beings, to care for one another, not just in words, but also in action, doesn’t it make sense that some of that responsibility applies to how we treat all of what God has created, from our fellow humankind to animals to the earth itself? It follows, from 1 John and John 10, that being “caretakers of creation” is meant to be an all-encompassing idea. After all, by caring for the world in which we live, we are working to make a better world for our brothers and sisters now, and those who will come in the future. We are not called to be self-serving consumers, grabbing all we can get. Instead, we are called to take what we have, particularly our material resources, and share them with others – or at least protect them so more can use it.

Creation care is another way, then, that we live out God’s instructions to love. It can be as simple as seeing a piece of trash and picking it up, or following the classic “reduce, reuse, recycle.” It can look like considering own usage of plastic products, which have been identified as one of the most dangerous threats to both nature and wildlife. Presbyterians have been doing this for years. In fact, since 1995 we even have an organization within our denomination expressly for this purpose: Presbyterians for Earth Care. Their purpose is:

Connecting members through a grassroots network of people seeking to keep the sacred at the center of earth care, advocacy and action both inside and outside the walls of the church.
Equipping members with resources, ideas and information for a shared journey toward a healthier planet by growing and sharing theological understandings and perspectives on eco-justice issues.
Inspiring members through stories of individuals and groups who have responded to the sacred call to care for the earth – stories told person to person at events, and by newsletter, email, social media and devotions[iv].

Their work helps us pay attention to our call to be caretakers of creation, whether it’s making our physical buildings more eco-friendly or advocating for better responses to climate change. Here at Heritage, we are a part of similar work. Kevin’s Garden provides opportunities for our community to care for the land we have been given and provide food for others: it is a movement towards justice in that way. Our worship committee chose the Palms we did this year for Palm Sunday from a company called “Eco-Palms,” who in addition to providing a fair wage for their laborers, commits to harvesting practices that are more ecologically sustainable[v]. It is a small way we can live into the calling we have from 1 John 4 to use our means to act in love for God’s people, and God’s creation. Being caretakes of creation connects us to one another. Our PCUSA Co-Moderator, Rev. Tawnya Denise Anderson, reported on Facebook yesterday that during the Ecumenical Advocacy Days in Washington D.C., a pastor from Flint, Michigan, Rev. Monica Villarreal, shared in a workshop that she can’t even baptize with the water that comes out of her church’s tap. As brothers and sisters in faith, we cannot hear that news and simply respond with our “thoughts and prayers.” We have to put our love in active response. The opportunities will always be right in front of us.

Friends, we are called to pay attention, to see the needs of the world around us, in every sense of the word, and respond in love-filled action. In this, we become caretakers of creation, following the Good Shepherd who continues to lead us in acts of compassion and justice, who put everything on the line for us, that we might have a freedom to love as radically as possible. So may God’s love for you through Christ give you that freedom and courage to act, for the sake of the gospel. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
April 22, 2018

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[i] William I. Self, “Homiletical Perspective:1 John 3:16-24,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
[ii] Eugene H. Peterson, The Message Remix (Colorado Springs, CO: NavPress, 2006).
[iii] https://www.earthday.org/about/the-history-of-earth-day/
[iv] http://presbyearthcare.org/
[v] For more about eco-palms, go to https://www.presbyterianmission.org/ministries/compassion-peace-justice/hunger/enough/eco-palms-2/

Sunday’s Sermon – Ghost Stories – Luke 24:36-48

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Christ is risen! (Christ is risen indeed!) Even though all of the Peeps and chocolate bunnies are now in the 75% off carts, we are still in the liturgical season of Easter, which spans 50 days from the Resurrection to Pentecost. It’s important that we think about Easter as more than just one day of celebration; a whole season of Eastertide prompts us to maintain the energy of those who first ran from the empty tomb. That’s why last week we participated in some “Holy Humor,” to keep the joy and energy of Easter alive. Even two weeks later, we should be brimming with excitement over the news of Christ’s resurrection. In fact, most theologians remind us that every Sunday is truly a celebration of the Resurrection, although practically speaking it can be hard to sustain that level year-round. Once the initial joy of the announcement fades, what happens next? That is what we explore in these 50 days.

For the disciples, the days after Christ’s crucifixion were a mixture of emotions. Many of them had fled the scene at the garden of Gethsemane and foot of the cross. We might imagine they huddled together in the shadows, trying to stay under the radar and out of sight lest they meet a similar fate. John’s gospel reveals them shutting out the rest of the world in a locked upper room, presumably from fear. But we know the gospel message continued to spread. Do you remember the refrain from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s famous rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar? The apostles sing “what’s the buzz? Tell me what’s a happen’” over and over again. Post-resurrection we might imagine it being a bit more hushed, but with even more anxiety as they try to put the pieces of it all together. In Luke’s account of these days, just before this morning’s text, two disciples travel to Emmaus, and a stranger joins them to talk about it all. That stranger, of course, turns out to be the risen Christ, revealed in the breaking of bread. Almost immediately, Cleopas and the other disciple race back to Jerusalem, a 7 mile trip, to proclaim that “The Lord has risen indeed” (verse 34). This is the buzz where our text begins.

And, as if a stranger turning out to be Jesus isn’t exciting enough – in the appearance in today’s lesson, Jesus almost appears out of nowhere. “Surprise! Here I am!” aren’t quite his words, but rather words of peace, a reassurance for their anxiety and fear. Can you imagine? You know how when you’re talking about someone, even something good, and then they walk into the room unexpectedly? You are probably left a little speechless and lose your train of thought. Multiply that and you have a tiny sense of this moment. The disciples probably froze, and turned sheet white, as if they had seen a ghost. Because, despite the news they had been talking about, that is exactly what they perceived as happening; the development of yet another overwhelming ghost story.

Admittedly, I’m not too keen on the idea of ghost stories. I still get chills when I think about the many paranormal activity tv shows that used some semblance of science to examine abandoned haunted places, complete with shadowy images and ominous music in the background. There was even a show on Nickelodeon when I was a kid called Are You Afraid of the Dark? which involved a group of teenagers who formed “The Midnight Society” and each week told a different scary story to the group around a campfire, with nods to the classic Twilight Zone. Yeah, I couldn’t even watch that in the light of the afternoon. That said, I do love a good mystery or plot with twists and turns, and have enjoyed more than one historical ghost tour, as history and rumor intertwine. There are numerous kinds of “ghost stories,” almost to suit every taste, from classics like The Haunting to suspense like The Sixth Sense. Some people live for this kind of uneasiness and apprehension as the lines between fiction and reality are blurred. In fact, that’s what makes the most effective ghost story; when it is so close to being possible that it just might be true.

But there’s a flip side. In many cases, the stories unravel. Like at the end of Scooby Doo when a mask is pulled off and the monster is really a shopowner, or you go to investigate the scratching sound only to realize it’s a tree brushing against the window. Skepticism and closer examination often expose wild imaginations and outright fiction. I think, in part, this is why a story like we have in Luke 24 matters to us. For although the disciples think Jesus is a ghost, their assertion is proven wrong; not once, but twice. First, Jesus invites them to touch him and see that he is flesh and bone. This is not some apparition. They aren’t going to wave their arms through him. He is fully present with them. Here, Jesus affirms the incarnation. God isn’t just with the disciples in a spiritual sense; God dwells among them, and this includes the risen Lord too. In the flesh.

There is a bit of debate among theologians about what to make of the gospel claims of bodily resurrection. Some, like Marcus Borg, argue that the physical presence of Christ isn’t what is at stake with the resurrection, but rather the importance of the experienced reality of the post-Easter Jesus as the inspiration for the claim “Jesus is Lord.” In this perspective, a ghost story would have just as much significance for the disciples, and still leads to the same kind of new existence for those who believe in Christ. If the bones of Jesus were discovered somewhere, it would not shake the foundations of this faith, because it’s not the literal bones that matter. For others, though, this tangible nature of the risen Christ is essential. N.T. Wright notes that it matters because:

Resurrection implies at the very least a coming back to something that had been forfeited, that is, bodily life. . . [and] The deepest meanings of the resurrection have to do with new creation. If the stories are metaphors for anything, they are metaphors for the belief that God’s new world had been brought to birth[i].

He goes on to note that the return of the physical Jesus matters in the context of debate among first century Judaism about the notion of Resurrection, for the first Christians, certainly the disciples, would have framed their understanding of this even in light of their Jewish faith. Wright notes:

There was a spectrum of belief about life after death in first-century Judaism. The Sadducees, the ruling elite, denied a future life of any sort . . . Many Jews believed in a continuing life after death, but in a disembodied state that neither needed nor expected a future reembodiment. . . [while] Resurrection, for Pharisees, was thus part of their belief both in the goodness of the created, physical world and in the ultimate triumph of the justice of God.

As such, the understanding of Jesus’ bodily resurrection would have made a clear separation between this a simply a renewal movement within the Jewish faith, and a distinctly new way of understanding God’s fulfillment of the promises of the prophets. For this, among other reasons, Wright and others stand firmly behind the bodily resurrection as central to an understanding of the meaning of not just the Resurrection, but faith in Jesus Christ. It’s a spectrum of belief, really, and know that wherever you are you are in good Reformed theological company. And, if you’ve never really thought much about it one way or the other, or are content for it to simply be one of those things left to the great mystery of faith, you’re in good company as well. But texts like this open us to think about it a bit more. And while we don’t have to land on a definitive answer, in fact I’d argue that’s impossible, it can be helpful for us to identify where we are and how that may impact the framework of our experience of Easter and of living as one who professes Jesus Christ as our risen Lord.

In all conversations, the importance of the resurrection is affirmed. And, as Stephen Cooper notes:

To insist on the reality of the resurrected body is to demand that we accept our present reality as the place where transformations of ultimate significance take place[ii].

I think that’s what Jesus was trying to prove in his offering of his body to the disciples. That this wasn’t just some figment of their imaginations or hopes in the midst of despair. It was true and real. This matters to us, today, too. Our faith should not be something lost in fantasy or fiction. It should be grounded in the real and tangible experience of Christ among us. Our faith isn’t some theoretical idea. It is something we can touch.

So the disciples touch him and their joy begins to grow. But they still aren’t sure. You can imagine a glistening in their eyes, a turn of the head as they look at him again. Could this really be true? Jesus offers a second offer of proof, asking for something to eat. And he eats some broiled fish. Clearly this is something a ghost could not do. Now the disciples get it. Jesus puts the ghost story to rest, because there are other things he needs the disciples to hear. His offers of proof remove the distractions that otherwise would keep this as simply a fantastic ghost story of inspiration and wonder.

Just as Jesus is present with them, he calls them to embody this good news of resurrection and build upon what they know from scripture and his teachings and become witnesses to all that has been proclaimed, including the resurrection. Barbara Brown Taylor offers that this is how Jesus ushers in their new way of being. She writes:

After he was gone, they would still have God’s Word, but that Word was going to need some new flesh. The disciples were going to need something warm and near that they could bump into on a regular basis, something so real that they would not be able to intellectualize it and so essentially untidy that there was no way they could ever gain control over it. So Jesus gave them things they could get their hands on, things that would require them to get close enough to touch one another[iii].

He calls them to take on these teachings as a way of life together. Just as he has been transformed, resurrected, they too are to be changed in ways that impact their way of being in the world. That is the point of the gospel after all. That is the aim of Easter. To give those who would follow Christ, even the church, new life. One that is marked by tangible engagement with the Word, not just read and studied, but lived and breathed. And when we do that, we fully reflect the image of the risen Christ. As Barbara Brown Taylor notes:

In our embodied life together, the words of our doctrines take on flesh[iv].

For me, this is why it matters that our story in Luke isn’t just another ghost story or idle tale. Because if it is, we let it gloss over us like another fairy tale or fantasy. But doing so misses the impact of the resurrection. It trivializes it and makes it just some other moralistic tale. Instead, the risen Christ comes among us and calls us to reach out, touch and see that this is no ghost. Because if we can allow for a God who puts on flesh himself, even after death, we might just have a faith that we can touch, too. May it be so.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
April 15, 2018

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[i] Marcus J. Borg and N.T. Wright, The Meaning of Jesus: Two Visions, (San Francisco, CA: HarperCollins, 1999).
[ii] Stephen A. Cooper, “Theological Perspective: Luke 24:36b-48,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
[iii] Barbara Brown Taylor, “The Practice of Wearing Skin: Incarnation,” in An Altar in the Word: A Geography of Faith, (San Francisco, CA: HarperOne, 2009).
[iv] Barbara Brown Taylor, “The Practice of Wearing Skin: Incarnation,” in An Altar in the Word: A Geography of Faith, (San Francisco, CA: HarperOne, 2009).

Sunday’s Sermon – The Open-Ended Tomb – Mark 16:1-8

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You may be wondering, where is the rest of the story? If you were following along in the Bible, you might note that there are 12 more verses to go in Mark’s gospel; rich and wonderful stories about Jesus appearing to Mary Magdalene, then two other disciples, and finally the 11 disciples as a group before returning to heaven. These are the stories we read in Matthew, Luke, and John, who add in additional proof-of-resurrection stories, like Jesus inviting Thomas to place his hands in the wounds, or even eating fish grilled over an open fire.  This is the ending of the Easter story we have come to expect, the risen Christ walking around, making appearances to those who loved him. It is from here that we can say we, too, have seen the risen Christ, and sing our Alleluias at the good news. But Mark’s gospel gives us a different ending to consider. The verses that are believed to be the original ending of the earliest gospel account, concluding with verse 8, reveal the perplexing discovery of the empty tomb and indication that Jesus “has been raised,” but the story ends in fear and wonder and silence. In Mark’s gospel, we don’t so much get a dramatic conclusion, but an open-ended tomb that leaves us in a cliffhanger.

Such an ending should put us on the edge of our seats. It brings an element of anticipation for what might happen next. It is what prompts us to let the next episode start playing if we’re watching a captivating series of our favorite show on Netflix. Of course we are going to continue watching – we want to find out what happens next. Some of the best series writing, whether it’s novels or television or a movie franchise, leave the ending open-ended. The Merriam Webster Dictionary gives us a good definition for what this means, defining “open-ended” as:

not rigorously fixed: such as adaptable to the developing needs of a situation, or permitting or designed to permit spontaneous and unguided responses[i].

Perhaps this is what Mark was trying to do – to evoke a response, for readers to join with the women at the tomb and experience the overwhelming emotions of what such a jarring revelation might mean for their lives. Some commentators argue that Mark leaves us in a moment of suspense on purpose, challenging us to consider how we might complete the story ourselves. That is, of course, our tendency when things are left without conclusion.

One of my favorite shows is The Big Bang Theory which airs on CBS. One of the main characters, Sheldon, has ongoing issues with things having the proper closure. In one episode, his girlfriend Amy tries to help him overcome it. Take a look:

[clips from “The Closure Alternative,” Big Bang Theory, Season 6, Episode 21, originally aired April 25, 2013.]

He just can’t help it. And neither can we. Want to drive a musician crazy? Put an unresolved chord at the end of a song. [Denise to play song]. Our text for today is abrupt and startling, not smooth and comforting. It may even be frustrating, driving us to avoid the awkwardness and challenge it presents by adding to it. That’s what later authorities copying Mark’s manuscript did, even, picking up after verse 8 to “fill in the gaps” and end everything neatly. In literary terms, it is called denouement, from the French root which means “to untie.” It’s the final conclusion of a story, when all the plot pieces find resolution. A classic example? Fairy tales that end “and they all lived happily ever after.” Or fables that drive home the point, “and the moral of the story is.” We even do it informally in conversation, “to make a long story short.” We like things to be neat and tidy, complete and resolved. This is true about our lives, and especially true about our faith.

In fact, I think that’s why so many of us struggle with belief and faith in general – it simply leaves too much unresolved; too many questions; too many openings and different ways of understanding, none of which ever seem to fully satisfy our need to know. Like children, our faith can prompt us to exist in an ongoing cycle of “yes, but why?” with each new revelation. In Mark’s gospel, this seems to be part of the design. His version of Easter morning doesn’t come so much with a “the end,” but rather a “to be continued.” On one hand, this is incredible news. It is the point of the gospel and gives meaning to the devastation we experience in the drama of Holy Week. The story lacks its meaning if the ending is simply, “and then Jesus died.” The power of Easter morning lies in our ability to proclaim that death is never the final answer. That darkness never wins, for joy indeed comes in the morning. God did not let the violence and hatred and sin of the world have the final say[ii].

But in the gospel of Mark, the resurrection isn’t the last word either. That means there is still more to come.  The open-ended nature of the tomb is that there is still more God is doing and will do in the world. Easter morning is about God’s future breaking into our reality. This is a future that breaks apart every understanding we have of how things are supposed to end. You know the saying “few things in life are certain: death and taxes.” Christ’s resurrection takes death off the table. This should be unnerving. It should be a little bit scary. It’s what professor Rolf Jacobson calls a, existential “holy crap” kind of moment, when we realize we might have to re-evaluate everything we know in order to wrap our minds around the meaning of life once again[iii].

It’s exhilarating to say “the story isn’t over.” But then that means, “oh, the story isn’t over.” Perhaps this is why the women were so scared at the tomb. If the story isn’t over with Jesus’ death, then all of those challenging instructions he gave to them about living in God’s kingdom here and now were still true. They are not “off the hook” from the demanding call of discipleship. In fact, the empty tomb thrusts them into an even more challenging way of being in the world: sharing news that seems impossible and too good to be true to a world consumed with death and easy conclusions. The resurrection gives them a new reality, not just hypothetical, but real and gritty.

Maybe that’s exactly what the gospel writer in Mark intends. For the resurrection to usher us into a new way of being. The mysterious young man at the tomb prompts this journey, telling the women to return to Galilee and find Christ there. In Galilee, they will be drawn again into this incredible story, and maybe this time have a sense of what it means. Jesus has gone ahead of them. God’s work is continuing, with or without them. The ending of Mark’s gospel is so jarring, so moving, that it compels us to dive back into the story itself and see what we might have missed the first time we heard it. Because suddenly, we hear the story of this man named Jesus walking around the hillsides and teaching and healing people in a new light – because we know that this truly is the son of God. The open tomb brings an open-ended invitation to be a part of what is happening next. The story of God raising Jesus from the dead is amazing. But it’s not the end. It’s only the beginning. It’s a cliffhanger. If God can overcome even death, there is endless possibility for what God can and will do next.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
April 1, 2018

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[i] “open-ended,” Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary- https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/open-ended, accessed 3/28/18.
[ii] Diana Butler Bass frames an understanding of the crucifixion in this way, “God did not send the “gift” of a dead child for salvation. God gave the gift of a child to the world to embody the way of shalom and to upend the empire of death. The Empire killed that child. But God wouldn’t let that execution be the last word. That’s the Easter story” Twitter Post 3/27/18, 7:58 pm, https://twitter.com/dianabutlerbass/status/978783309357559808, accessed 3/29/18.
[iii] Sermon Brainwave #412 Working Preacher, originally posted April 5, 2015, http://www.workingpreacher.org/brainwave.aspx?podcast_id=1003, accessed 3/28/2018.

Sunday’s Sermon – We Wish to See Jesus – John 12:12-26

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When was the last time you went to a parade? When I was in middle school, my family moved to L.A., also known as “Lower Alabama” – Spanish Fort, to be exact. One of the highlights of community life each year was a few days of vacation from school marked for Mardi Gras. Little did we know that Mobile, just across the bay from where we lived, claims to be the birthplace of such celebration[i].  Regardless of location, though, parades are a sight to be seen. The floats are elaborate, with people working for months on end to create innovative and over the top displays that will move through the streets for only a few hours. And of course, there are the amazing florists and artists who work on the Parade of Roses floats in California, with all live embellishments. It is amazing. For Mardi Gras, of course, there is more than just watching. Parades are interactive. People follow along with the floats, screaming “throw me somethin’ mister!” in the hopes of being seen themselves, so that they will be showered with beads and moon pies and roses and all sorts of other toys. It didn’t take me long to learn to stick with friends who knew people in the floats, who would focus things your way. And, with two preschool-aged brothers, we learned making them visible meant even more toys launched in our direction. Parades fill the air with a spirit of celebration.

Similarly, the story of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem is bursting with the same kind of energy, as crowds clamor around Jesus. He isn’t riding on a massive float, but rather a humble young donkey. Nevertheless, he is greeted by the masses in Jerusalem as a king. Perhaps they have been following him across the hillsides in Galilee, listening to him preach, teach, and perform miracles. Or maybe they have just heard about it and are coming to check it out. In John’s gospel, there is much reason for celebration at this point in the narrative. Jesus, only one chapter prior, has raised Lazarus from the dead. News like this – resurrection – spreads quickly. The crowd testifies to this good news, and with a display of power like this it is easy to see why many came to believe this was the long-awaited for Messiah, and they wanted to get a glimpse of the beginning of what surely would be a new age.

In John’s gospel account, we assume that the crowd was the common people of Israel. No description is given about any particular religious group or class of people. So we might assume, as Paul Barton does, that:

because we see in the Gospels that people from all walks of life approached and followed Jesus, . . . the crowd in Jerusalem included people from all economic, religious, and social groups within Israel[ii].

In other words, they were ordinary people, perhaps just like us, but also inclusive of the entire span of all humanity, sharing the news that the Savior has come. Such a crowd underscores the entire gospel message:

that God uses the humble, the oppressed, the vulnerable as the instruments of witness and revelation[iii].

The waving of palm branches is significant as well, because it tells us about the nature of this grand display. Palms have a political meaning, dating back almost 200 years before this event (circa 167-160 BCE), when the Jewish people revolted against a Seleucid Empire by refusing to worship Greek Gods, leading to a series of battles known as the Maccabean Revolt, recorded in the book of Maccabees, which is not in our biblical canon as Protestants, but is found in among the books in the Apocrypha, that is included in some other faith traditions.

In two passages describing the victories of the Maccabees over their Gentile overlords, palm leaves are used as markers of victory and celebration (1 Macc. 13:51; 2 Macc. 10:7)[iv].

Such symbolism would not have been incidental for the people in Jerusalem, nor for John in his writing of the gospel, which is rich with metaphor and meaning. In this moment, it is clear how the crowd sees Jesus. Their shouts of “Hosanna!” – Save Us – are earnest pleas for redemption, for this is their king.

On Palm Sunday, we join this boisterous crowd with all of its frenetic energy. We are as the Pharisees describe, part of “the world that has gone after him,” proclaiming Jesus as our Lord. The palms waving and crowds cheering bring a joyful tone to even a dreary day, a wonderful hint at the celebration that will unfold one week from now.  John slips in a comment about the disciples in verse 16, that they didn’t really understand what was happening until after the full events had transpired. How fortunate for us to view this parade with all the benefit of knowing the fullness of where this story leads – to the cross and the empty tomb. Nevertheless, we, too, might misunderstand the implications if we are only focused on the revelry and forget to look up and see Jesus for the fullness of his message to the world. Judith McDaniel calls us to attention, naming the ways our vision of Jesus on Palm Sunday might fall short. She writes:

When we proclaimed him to be all that we had longed for, we knew not what we said . . . We still exalt the forms of kingship, not the content of his reign. We focus on the outline of the concept without perceiving its substance. We look for a crown, while we have been given a cross. We still do not understand that he is not a kingdom of fame and achievement. His is a realm of service and sacrifice. His is not a political victory. It is a promise of victorious, abundant life now. His action is less a claim concerning himself than it is a sign of the presence of God’s kingdom[v].

To truly be “Palm Sunday” people, we must dig deeper in this story, and go beyond the parade. One way to do this is to expand our reading for the day to include what happens next. After all, none of our Biblical texts exist in some sort of storybook vacuum. They happen in context, as a sequence, and in the case of the gospels, a carefully crafted one to build upon greater themes to help us ultimately understand who this Jesus character really is, that (as John’s gospel indicates) we might come to believe (see John 20:31). Among the crowd, or at least those who followed, John introduces some outsiders, Greek, who speak to Philip and Andrew, the two disciples with Greek-sounding names from Galilee[vi]. Their polite request speaks to the heart of where I think our focus should be on Palm Sunday, or any Sunday for that matter. “We wish to see Jesus.”

It is a polite request, marked by social convention and respect. Of course, they mean more than literal “seeing.” It’s not that they were particularly short and didn’t get a good view. They wish to have an audience with Jesus; to meet and speak with him. Their request parallels the invitational phrase Christ himself has used throughout this gospel to the disciples and others who followed: “Come and See.” These words tip us off that, in contrast to some religious leaders like the Pharisees, and even the gathered crowd of people in Jerusalem, there are in fact people who are able to see Jesus for the fullness of who he truly is. What is more, these are outsiders – Greeks. They remind us of the broadness of the gospel message being truly “for all the world,” and at the same time humble those of us “on the inside” with the awareness that the best insights and understanding might come from sources other than ourselves.

Jesus’ response is dark and challenging, further indicating that the kingship longed for and cheered on by the massive crowd is going to look quite different in reality. Alexander Wimberly notes that Jesus’ response about the grain of wheat reminds us that:

The heart of Christianity is a bunch of unsettling truths: some things we are familiar with need to die, in order for new life to arise; the work of the Spirit will not be contained in set patterns; and anyone and everyone who wants to get involved should do so[vii].

Getting involved in Christianity is less about coming forward as part of a crowd caught up in merriment, and more about coming forward with the words offered by the Greeks, saying “we wish to see Jesus,” acknowledging the depth of such a request that may take us to places unexpected, and may ask us to let go of things and ideas we once clung to as sacred. It is the culmination of our Lenten practice – letting go of our own expectations, and preparing to embrace the realities before us.

Saying “we wish to see Jesus” opens our eyes to the world around us. It prompts us to ask hard questions, and investigate things more closely. It calls to pay attention to the ways Christ may be revealed even in unexpected places in our lives. Most of all, it sets an intention for living as followers of the one on the donkey, even if we don’t have it all figured out just yet, to seek a deeper relationship with the divine .

Saying “we wish to see Jesus” puts us on the road, not to jump from our Palm Sunday parade to Easter celebration next Sunday, but to travel the difficulty of this Holy Week. To remember the path Christ himself took to Jerusalem; to witness his fury in the temple; to hear his frustration with organized religion the way it was; to encounter the extreme reversal of our Lord kneeling at the dirty, dusty feet of his disciples and washing them as a servant; to wrestle with his commandment to love; to feel the weight of the cross on the way to Golgotha; to weep with the women as darkness descends. Holy Week gives us one of the most remarkable overviews of a multifaceted Savior, a multifaceted God. It helps us see the magnitude of the greater story, which leads us to a greater appreciation for the empty tomb, and plants in us a longing to repeat that refrain “we wish to see Jesus” as we look for the living Christ among us.

So may this statement guide our journey to the empty tomb. May we approach this week with eyes open, in celebration, yes, and in contemplation of the greatest story of our faith. Most importantly, may we, with every fiber of who we are, wish to see Jesus. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
March 25, 2018

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[i] http://www.al.com/news/mobile/index.ssf/2018/01/as_alabama_trolls_new_orleans.html
[ii] Paul Barton, “Theological Perspective: John 12:12-19,” Feasting on the Gospels: John, Volume 2, Cynthia A. Jarvis and E. Elizabeth Johnson, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2015).
[iii] Paul Barton, “Theological Perspective: John 12:12-19,” Feasting on the Gospels: John, Volume 2, Cynthia A. Jarvis and E. Elizabeth Johnson, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2015).
[iv] G. J. Riley, “Exegetical Perspective: John 12:12-19,” Feasting on the Gospels: John, Volume 2, Cynthia A. Jarvis and E. Elizabeth Johnson, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2015).
[v] Judith M. McDaniel, “Homiletical Perspective: John 12:12-19,” Feasting on the Gospels: John, Volume 2, Cynthia A. Jarvis and E. Elizabeth Johnson, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2015).
[vi] “Of the twelve disciples, only Philip and Andrew have purely Greek names . . . Both are from Galilee (1:44), which is, according to Matthew 4:15 (quoting Isa. 9:1), “Galilee of the Gentiles,” a district of Palestine that has long been majority non-Jewish. It may be that the Greeks mentioned here are also from Galilee and approach Andrew and Philip as fellow Galileans with familiar-sounding Greek names.” G. J. Riley, “Exegetical Perspective: John 12: 20-26,” Feasting on the Gospels: John, Volume 2, Cynthia A. Jarvis and E. Elizabeth Johnson, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2015).
[vii] Alexander Wimberly, “Pastoral Perspective: John 12: 20-26,” Feasting on the Gospels: John, Volume 2, Cynthia A. Jarvis and E. Elizabeth Johnson, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2015).

Sunday’s Sermon – Check or Carry-On? – Mark 8:31-38

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Do you ever people watch at the airport? One of my favorite games to play is guessing where people are going, or where they’ve been. And you can often do it with only a few clues at the security check point, as bag contents are often spread out before you. It’s incredible what people take in their carry-on baggage. A few weeks ago in Galveston, Texas, I was next to a family laden down with Mardi Gras beads. One young woman had a necklace with large ornament softball size balls – apparently that wasn’t fitting in her checked luggage. A few years ago I watched a man talk at length with a TSA official about whether or not he was able to carry-on a box of Velveeta cheese. I’m still wondering about that one. What we pack says a lot about us, and it helps shape the journey we’ll have along the way. What are those things that we can’t live without, even for a few hours on a plane? Today’s gospel lesson from Mark brings a direct and startling instruction about what the disciples should make sure they have with them in their carry-ons: the cross.

In the first century, the mention of the cross would have some immediate connotations. This was a device of torture – usually reserved for slaves and political criminal – that represented humiliation and extreme agony. Crucifixion was extreme, and appropriately terrifying. It would have been an exclamation point or bolded underline of his statement just a few sentences before about the suffering the “son of man” would experience. Such an image would have rattled the disciples to the very core. Their jaws must have been on the floor.

In contrast, we don’t tend to have such a strong reaction to seeing the cross today. It sits at the top of a steeple, or looms large in the front of our church sanctuaries. We wear it as jewelry and put it on bumper stickers and decals on our cars. When we look at it, we are slower to connect it as a startling image of torture and suffering. Many theologians have tried to modernize this image for us today, saying that the equivalent in our society today would be something like putting a fully functional electric chair at the entrance to our houses of worship. That is a thought that could easily put pits in our stomachs and make words get caught in the lumps in our throats. If that’s the case, wouldn’t it be more comforting to replace our crosses with another symbol? Perhaps the empty tomb, or a smiling, thumbs-up “Buddy Christ” as in the movie Dogma to put a fresh face on our faith. It’s a tempting idea. We don’t like to think about the cross too much. Theologian William Placher offers that:

we do not think about its meaning because we want to call ourselves Christians while avoiding the thought that the implications of our faith might threaten our comfort[i].
But Mark’s gospel doesn’t let us off the hook that easily. Jesus calls his disciples, and us, to take up the cross, and consider all it implies.

The cross represents a pivotal moment of our faith – Jesus’ death.

the cross represents the culmination of the incarnation: divinity fully united with humanity. Christ did not take on a “higher” human nature while avoiding the tough side of it . . . The cross shows that in Christ God is with us, no matter what. Even when we doubt or disbelieve or think ourselves completely cut off from God, Christ has been there before us. Christ is, as the philosopher Alfred North Whitehead said of God, “the great companion- the fellow sufferer who understands”[ii].

On the cross, God’s love to us is realized. As Protestant Christians, our cross is empty, primarily because we anticipate the rest of the story – we know that Jesus wasn’t left on the cross. In this anticipation of the resurrection, though, we must be careful to make sure that our empty crosses are not empty of meaning, too.

In his teaching in Mark, Jesus helps the disciples, and us, connect the meaning of the cross to the foundations of discipleship. Verse 34 spells it out: Jesus says, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” The instructions are bookended with the word “follow.” This reminds us that we’re not trailblazing something totally new. Rather, we are traveling a path with someone who has been there and will be there with us along the way – Jesus. Along the way we are to do two things.

First, deny ourselves. In Lent, you might hear a lot about this step, and as we near the halfway point, such instruction might be the reminder you need if you have given something up for the season. Denying ourselves, though, doesn’t just come from giving up chocolate or soda. It can also be about setting our own selfishness aside, and take seriously that part of the Lord’s Prayer that says “THY will be done,” and invest our time and energies on making GOD a part of our decisions. In short, it’s about focus –not on ourselves, but on God. In a world that often pushes us to be self-serving, this alone would be challenge enough. But Jesus isn’t done yet.

The second step is to take up our crosses. Remember, the cross is the symbol of our salvation. Note, Jesus doesn’t say “ok, now that you have faith, I’d like you to very carefully wrap up this cross in bubble wrap, tucking your socks and soft clothing around the joints to protect it, and put this central part of your faith in your checked luggage.” Jesus doesn’t tell us to check the cross and pick it up at the end of the journey. He tells us to do the opposite – take it up, in essence to put it on our carry-on luggage. Keep it with us as something that is vital and important to us – so important we wouldn’t want to let it out of our sight or possession. As the carry-on baggage sign at Southwest (the one on the cover of the bulletin) remind us, “if it fits, it’s a carry-on.” Perhaps our task, then, is to consider how well or not the cross “fits” into our lives. Or better, how our lives fit into our understanding of the cross.

For many, perhaps even some of us this morning, the idea of “take up your cross” is closely associated with a particular hardship in their life they must endure, because, after all, Jesus suffered, and instructed his disciples to take up their crosses. It’s not hard to see how we end up with this conclusion from this passage, but it breaks my heart to think of the implications of this theology taken to its end. To bring to mind those who are being oppressed, and are told they must simply endure it. To imagine the woman who is in an abusive relationship, but continues to return to the abuser believing that this is her cross to bear. Or a man who does not reach out to a sponsor or go to a meeting, thinking he has to battle addiction as his own cross. Let me be very clear here. Jesus’ instruction to “take up your cross” is NOT God’s instruction to us that we must passively endure discrimination or actively experience real harm from others in order to be in solidarity with Christ. That is neither the God I know, nor a God I could worship faithfully. That is not the God we find on the cross. Jesus did not die on the cross so that we could join him and suffer. Christ died on the cross so that we might have LIFE, and life abundant.  

Taking up the cross is not about being tied up in its suffering. Through the cross, God promises that suffering is not the end result. From death on the cross springs a new life, an eternal life, made possible through Jesus’ resurrection.  Reconciliation and wholeness is the end for which I believe God yearns and desires. And so, to take up our cross means to live our lives in a way that seeks wholeness and reconciliation for all of God’s children; to be a people who reflect the God we worship.

Carrying the cross marks us as God’s own, as Christians, and demonstrates God’s love for the world. We take up the cross when we speak words of compassion rather than words of hate at those who have frustrated us, and when we refrain from snarky comments behind their backs. We take up the cross when we work to make sure children do not go hungry. We take up the cross when we pray for our loved ones, our community, and our world. We take up the cross when we come to this table for communion, experiencing the real and powerful presence of Jesus in our midst as we share in bread and cup.

Sometimes carrying the label of Christian is easy and light; other times carrying the label of Christian can feel like dragging a solid wooden cross through the mud. And yet, we are called to take it up, each and every day. Tom Long reminds us that:

sometimes, frankly, the commands of Jesus and the demands of life – a job, a social setting, or a relationship – are in tension, if not outright conflict, and the workaday life of Christians is filled with a thousand moral dilemmas.[iii]

We need the cross with us on the journey to keep us grounded in our faith, rooted in the heart of what really matters.  As followers of Christ, we have been entrusted with the cross. But it is up to us to decide whether we will put it in our checked bags, or be brave enough to carry it on with us wherever we go.  Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
March 4, 2018

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[i] William C. Placher, Jesus the Savior: The Meaning of Jesus Christ for Christian Faith (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001). 111.
[ii] Placher, 128-129.
[iii] Thomas G. Long, Testimony: Talking Ourselves into Being Christian (San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass, 2004), 89.

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

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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/

Food Pantry

Food distribution is scheduled 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 Wednesday, May 21 at 12:30 pm.  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 Monday, May 19th at 10 am in the Fellowship Hall. We welcome all volunteers.  

Food Pantry distribution volunteer opportunity Wednesday, May 21 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.