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

September 1, 2019 Leave a Comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ii] Bonhoeffer.

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

Sunday’s Sermon – Looking to Jesus – Hebrews 11:29-2:2

August 18, 2019 Leave a Comment

It started in middle school. About this time every year, just after the school year began, so did our soccer season. But there were a few weeks before coaches could technically lead practices, so in my school, the middle and high school teams combined and were led in “training and conditioning” afternoons. After school we would gather outside of the locker room and the senior team captains would announce the plans for the day. Almost always we began with a long run through the school’s neighborhood. It was southern Alabama. In August. Hot. Humid. You get the idea. Miserable. And few of us had done much running over the summer, so it was pretty brutal. As some of you know, I’m not a runner. I’ve heard of this so-called “runner’s euphoria” that people exhibit after running a few miles and getting into “the zone,” but it has not been my experience. Instead, sheer survival has been my approach. I survived those soccer conditioning days with grit and clinging to the idea of focusing on what was ahead. Quite literally. An older player taught me that, instead of looking down the loooong stretch of road we had to cover (and then come back), to just look a few feet in front of me at a time. Then, to look at the light poles, and focus on running just to the next pole. One foot in front of the other, one step at a time, one light pole to the next. That’s what it takes to finish the race set before you; knowing where to look.

I wonder if the writer of Hebrews would give similar advice. This general epistle is written to an early group of believers who are, well, struggling with the process of getting in shape to follow a new faith system. They need a pep talk. As John Shelley describes it:

The writer of Hebrews has introduced the idea of faith as the courage to endure, in an effort to stiffen the spines of the little band of Christians struggling with hostility, ridicule, and shame[i].

Throughout chapter 11, he gives a long litany of heroes and heroines from the Hebrew Scriptures. This is a famous listing of names, from Abraham and Moses to the names we read this morning. It’s like a “who’s who” of the earliest parts of Scripture, no doubt names and stories familiar to this letter’s readers. It is a Cliff’s notes version, summarizing thousands of years of history into a few phrases each time, as if to jog the memory of those who know the fuller story. Together, they make up this amazing cloud of witnesses.

You know that long road I mentioned? It had a dead end. That meant that we ran to its end, then reversed the path to get back to our school campus. If you were in the back of the group, you would see others coming your direction, meaning that turn was near. But more encouraging than this, was the regular practice of high-fives from those leading the way, and the shouts of encouragement that we could pick up the pace. That’s the kind of work that the cloud of witnesses do for us in faith; this listing is one high five after another from those who have walked the road of life before us in faith, giving us confidence to do the same.

To those new to the faith, the writer points out “hey, look! Here’s a whole host of people who have come before you, who have had tremendous obstacles and challenges, too, and by faith, have made it through. If they can do it, so can you!”

What has helped God’s people deal with discouragement since the beginning is the knowledge that we are not alone. We follow in the footsteps of people from the earliest biblical times who were unsure of what the future held for them. We follow in the footsteps of saints who along the way chose to trust God anyway. We follow at God who does not abandon us in times of trouble[ii].

The penultimate example of this of course? Jesus Christ. He is the “pioneer and perfecter” of our faith, running the race before us, blazing the trail, and setting the pace and cadence. He is the experienced runner who jogs along beside us, effortlessly, with words of encouragement. He is the one who reminds us of the fundamentals: to breathe in through our nose and not our mouth, and what part of the foot to put on the ground first. And if we get distracted, or aren’t quite sure where the course lies, he provides direction and guidance, keeping our eyes focused on what is ahead – not too far, not too near. And, at the risk of ruining this metaphor, he’s probably also the water station and medic, ready with supplies in case of an emergency or injury or to scoop us up if the race becomes too much for us, and who stands cheering at the finish line saying “see! I know you could do it!” The idea of Jesus as the most elite athlete of faith and coach is not hard to wrap our minds around, and provides the kind of pep talk that we may need to keep going.

This morning at our 11:00 service we will/have baptize a wonderfully sweet child of God, Jackson. In this sacrament, we celebrate that Christ has won the race and is victorious over everything, even death. We affirm that we belong on God’s team, and that nothing can separate us from God’s love because of the one who claims us in these waters. We welcome those who are baptized into the family of God, and promise to be the cloud of witnesses for them. By faith, we affirm they belong to God. By faith, we promise to walk alongside them as parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, friends, and the church universal, encouraging them to keep going in their journey of faith. We do all of this because, by faith, we believe in the power and example set in Jesus Christ, and look to him above everything else. Jesus Christ is that light pole to look toward, marking our lives step by step, moment by moment, with God’s grace. Baptism puts us on the starting blocks of our lives of faith, trusting Jesus to carry us from there.

What I love about the writer of Hebrew’s metaphor of the race in relation to faith in Christ is that it encompasses the fullness of the ups and downs of life. The writer reminds us that Jesus’ road was far from easy with the inclusion of the shame of the cross that he endured. But rather than dwell on the violence and the horrors of it, we are pointed to Jesus’ approach as one of focusing on the joy at the end. It seems that finding a focal point ahead is the key to enduring challenges along the way. Mary Foskett writes:

Life is difficult and the Christian life is no exception. In fact, discipleship will likely entail new challenges and unanticipated costs. The key for the author of the letter to the Hebrews is that faith discerns where real life is to be found, knows which values are true and which are counterfeit, and endures hardship in the face of divine promise[iii].

Our text for today focuses our lives again on being faithful to a God who is faithful to us. With Christ as our focal point, we are able to put one foot in front of the other and continue on the race, even if we are moving slower than a turtle through peanut butter. Everything comes into perspective.

Faith allows [us] to see beyond what is right in front of [us], [our]daily problems, to see what God is doing in [our] midst, to see what God has done throughout the ages, and to see the future joy God has in store for us[iv].

There’s an old spiritual that captures this truth. It begins “In the morning, when I rise” which leads to the ask, “give me Jesus.” But it doesn’t end there. The verses continue “and when I feel alone”; and “when I come to die.” In all of these, and presumably everything in between, the singer reflects a deep longing for the one who will bring us life. All along the way, one post at a time, we need Jesus. When things are new and fresh like a morning, and our lives seem brimming with potential and excitement for what might be, in hope we need Jesus. When things are isolating and challenging, and our cries seem to echo around us without response, in pain we need Jesus. When things come to an end and we feel all of those mixed emotions, in grief and in peace we need Jesus.

That is the heart of the Hebrews message – to look to Jesus in all times, especially when the road gets long, for it is our faith in him that will lead us forward and give us the courage to just take one. more. step. The road is laid out before us. A cloud of witnesses is cheering us on. May we have the faith to look to Christ and run in his direction. Amen.

~Sermon by Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford, August 18, 2019
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[i] John C. Shelley, “Theological Perspective: Hebrews 11:29-2:2,” Feasting on the Word, Year C, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).
[ii] David E. Gray, “Pastoral Perspective: Hebrews 11:29-2:2,” Feasting on the Word, Year C, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).
[iii] https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4153
[iv] David E. Gray, “Pastoral Perspective: Hebrews 11:29-2:2,” Feasting on the Word, Year C, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).

Sunday’s Sermon – Great Christological Hymns- Philippians 2:1-11, Colossians 1:15-20

August 4, 2019 Leave a Comment

The context for this sermon is within a “hymn sing” worship service, where congregational favorites are sung throughout the liturgy, and the majority of the sermon is also sung by the congregation.

Do you hear the people sing?
Singing a song of angry men?
It is the music of a people
Who will not be slaves again
When the beating of your heart
Echoes the beating of the drums
There is a life about to start
When tomorrow comes[ii]

This iconic song marks a turning point in the classic musical Les Miserables. It is a song of people coming together for revolution, proclaiming their truth in a cadence that builds into powerful chorus. It will likely make you want to sing along, and may get stuck in your head. Sorry. This, along with other power ballads, is a testimony to the fact that through song, we proclaim our truth. As Christians, this is especially true, and experienced in the power of our music and hymns.

Hymns, more than just being nice ways to break up a long-winded preacher, are ways in which the church have proclaimed those things that are most central to our faith. It’s no surprise, then, that so many of them are about Jesus Christ. The story of Christ’s birth, life, death, and resurrection is the most powerful truth that we tell, and worthy of as many songs as we have breath. Amen?

The passages we read this morning as examples of perhaps how the early church professed its faith in lyric. Both seem to be additions by Paul into his respective letters to the Philippians and Colossians, adopted from an emerging tradition. Each presents the most important aspects of the story of God incarnate in ways that, hopefully, became a tune that would develop into the song of the people.

To sing about Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, as God incarnate, as the first-born of all creation and reconciler of all, and also humble and a servant; well, those are pretty big and audacious claims. They are bold assertions that are meant to rock the boat and challenge the status quo. That is what it means to proclaim the gospel after all. To say these words in some sort of early church recited liturgy was like the hushed whisper in which the song begins in Les Mis. And one by one, the chorus grows, until all are singing together in strength and joy.

As 21^st century Christians, we don’t often think about our hymns as being particularly revolutionary. Indeed, many push-back at the idea of any change to our tunes with “new hymns”. If we’re honest, we might admit that we grow a bit complacent in our singing, enjoying the melodies and familiar lyrics and the opportunity to stretch our legs a bit. This morning, I’d like to challenge you to pay attention a bit more to the hymns that we sing and the power they contain, especially those that we sing about the one we say is Lord. These are hymns about power and transformation, both within us, and within our world. And friends, both within us, and within our world, we need the revolutionary power of Jesus Christ. The good news is; we know it is possible. We have experienced the empty tomb and therefore can sing the fullness of the story, confident and hopeful for God’s power and presence not just on the horizon, but here with us now. In Christ, a new day comes! And so we sing.

That famous song appears a second time in Les Mis at the end of the show in the Epilogue, with slightly changed lyrics that echo the joys of revolution in such a way that you could even wonder if they were also singing about faith, too. It goes like this:

Do you hear the people sing
Lost in the valley of the night?
It is the music of a people
Who are climbing to the light.

For the wretched of the earth
There is a flame that never dies.
Even the darkest night will end
And the sun will rise.

They will live again in freedom
In the garden of the Lord.
We will walk behind the ploughshare;
We will put away the sword.
The chain will be broken
And all men will have their reward.

Will you join in our crusade?
Who will be strong and stand with me?
Somewhere beyond the barricade
Is there a world you long to see?
Do you hear the people sing?
Say, do you hear the distant drums?
It is the future that they bring
When tomorrow comes[iii]!

Will you, too, be the people that sing? About the world we long to see and know to be possible because of the power of Christ? I invite you to rise in body or in spirit, as we sing the hymns of revolution this morning, proclaiming the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ in song. And may our songs carry us into lives that are a part of the uprising God’s kingdom brings. Let us sing!

~Homily preached by Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford, August 4, 2019

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[ii] “Do You Hear the People Sing?” from Les Miserables, written by Alain Boublil, Herbert Kretzmer, Claude Michel Schonberg and Jean-Marc Natel.

[iii] “Do You Hear the People Sing?” from Les Miserables, written by Alain Boublil, Herbert Kretzmer, Claude Michel Schonberg and Jean-Marc Natel.

Sunday’s Sermon – Bracket Buster – Philippians 3:4b-14; Isaiah 43:16-21

April 7, 2019 Leave a Comment

Bracket Buster

A few weeks ago, I excitedly took part in one of my favorite traditions this time of year: filling out my NCAA tournament bracket. It’s no secret that I’m a huge college basketball fan, unapologetically biased to the University of North Carolina Tarheels. In my family, we are each allowed two brackets: one that is what you think might actually happen, and another a fantasy bracket for if whatever you say goes. This year, mine had a lot of similarities. Because of the busy nature of this time of year, and the realities of life with two small children, I didn’t have the time to pour over each pairing and do a lot of field research, although ESPN and CBS and other places would have gladly fueled that opportunity. Instead, I relied on quick decisions and basic facts. One of them, naturally, was the win-loss record of the teams. And, going a bit deeper, the strength of schedule and key wins and losses. Sometimes, reputation plays into the picks, too. Remember when Shaka Smart was at VCU and they stunned the field as a powerful Cinderella? They had some staying power for a few years after that. Other programs are known as powerhouses, and tend to get more nods even with a less than stellar year. Finally, you might consider how they are playing going into the tournament: are they on a winning streak or have they lost momentum, or are there injuries that are plaguing their chances. There are a lot of rabbit holes here, aren’t there? I’ll also allow that it’s perfectly ok if someone (ahem, my mother), chooses based on things like team colors or mascots or just liking a school. All of this to say that “March Madness” brings out a lot of evaluating and conversation about who might be the winners and why.

If we were filling out brackets for followers of Jesus in the early church, I wonder who would come out on top? Judas clearly gets out in the early rounds. Peter would be an interesting debate, a favorite going in because of his enthusiasm and hustle, but his courtyard denials might spell elimination early. There would be plenty of Cinderella stories – unlikely characters who suddenly pull ahead. Think: Zacchaeus or the Woman at the Well. If we venture further into the New Testament, though, I think we might discover that there is a solid argument for Paul being named the champion.

In our text for today, Paul outlines a lengthy list of his own accomplishments. He does this often in his letters to the early church, in part as a common way of giving credibility to what he was going to say in line with the rhetorical patterns of the day, and also because he often was up against others who claimed to be the religious authorities on this newly emerging Christianity (see the “Super apostles” in 2 Corinthians). At the beginning of our passage, Paul again lists his resume, and it’s a good one. He talks about his background and heritage, his education, his passion and religious convictions, and his righteous lifestyle. This is the total package. It’s like a basketball team that has a dynamic point guard, a 7-footer on the inside, someone who can sink 3s from deep, and an impenetrable defense all led by a coach who has cut the nets down from a record number of championships. Laid out on paper, it should be an easy road to victory with this pedigree.

“So, how’s your bracket doing?” is a question you might ask a sports fan. Sure, you may have picked the right 12-5 upset, but few ever name all the Cinderella stories. Mine? Totally busted. I made it through the first weekend just fine, but then, as number one seeds and personal favorites fell, I got down to nothing. The little icon on my ESPN tournament challenge app reflected an ice cube to indicate it had gone cold. If it had been printed out, I would have ripped it up into little pieces and thrown it into the trash.

Paul writes about a similar dismissal of his stellar resume. Eugene Peterson’s The Message interprets verses 7 and 8 like this:

The very credentials these people are waving around as something special, I’m tearing up and throwing out with the trash – along with everything else I used to take credit for. And why? Because of Christ.

That’s right, friends, Jesus Christ is a bracket buster. Before you get after me for being too heretical, think about it. Jesus could be seen as the ultimate Cinderella story – with humble origins from a tiny little town. Didn’t the people judge him for that at one point – can anything good come out of Nazareth (See John 1:43-46)? It was not a location known for producing Messiahs. He was an outlier, with a motley crew of disciples and followers – fisherman, tax collectors, sinners and all – a rag-tag team at best. He got into a lot of foul trouble and acted in ways that defied many traditional strategies. The entirety of Jesus’ story, though, shines at the ending for Paul. Christ’s suffering and resurrection changed everything. It shattered expectations and turned things upside down. It busted Paul’s bracket of faith, and for the better.

Paul is so compelled, so transformed by the good news of the gospel that he cannot help but leave all that he knew, all that he had worked for and gained, all that he was, behind. It’s important here to note that what he was leaving wasn’t bad. As Fred Craddock reminds us:

Paul does not toss away junk to gain Christ; he tosses away that which was of tremendous value to him. Therein lies the extraordinary impact of his testimony and the high commendation of faith in Jesus Christ . . . What Paul is saying is that Christ surpasses everything of worth to me[i].

Often times in talking about letting go of things in faith, especially during this season of Lent, we talk about giving up the things that are “junk” – our sins and shortcomings. But here, we are also reminded that sometimes developing our faith involves giving up those things that can be seen as good, but still get in the way of our best relationship with God. Our status in society and the successes can lead us into a sense of self-righteousness and boasting, and make us think that we can do things all on our own without any help. They make us believe that we, too, are like a Savior. Theologian Karl Barth offers that giving these things up is an important part of our lives of faith. He writes:

Faith in its decisive act is the collapse of every effort of his own capacity and will, and the recognition of the absolute necessity of that collapse. In it he is truly lost. If man sees the other aspect: that as lost he is righteous, that in giving himself up he can take comfort in God’s righteousness, then he sees himself – but it is ek theou (from God) that this vision comes – from God’s point of view. That happens in faith. That is the positive thing that happens in faith[ii].

For Paul, that is what happens when he lets all the other things fall away and instead is simply focuses on knowing Jesus Christ. This knowledge of his Savior is what allows him to remember what truly matters, and more importantly, who matters. He can only get there by letting go, and pushing forward into the future.

I hear the words of the prophet Isaiah echoing in the background:

“Forget about what’s happened; don’t keep going over old history.

Be alert, be present. [God is] about to do something brand-new.

It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it?[iii]”

We are on the road. Easter is just around the corner. But are we really ready for Resurrection? Both Paul and Isaiah remind us that we can only prepare for the new and transforming good news if we are willing to let go of the past. You can’t cling to the bracket that has been busted, even if your teams were great. You have to tear it up and put it in the trash.

This is important for us to do as individuals, as Paul did, and also as communities. To grow as a church and as a society, we have to adapt and change. But culture pushes back mightily against this most of the time; we’d rather cling to what we know, even if it no longer is working for us. Barbara Brown Taylor notes:

Churches have resumes too. Some are proud of their long histories and the distinguished preachers who have filled their pulpits, while others focus on gains in giving and membership in recent years. Some can tell you how many members of their youth group have gone on to become ministers themselves . . . none of these things is bad, Paul says. It is just that none of those things will get a congregation one inch nearer where it wants to go[iv].

What will get us there, is a desire to know Christ, and become focused on the all-surpassing, all-encompassing love that comes to us through Jesus. And once we let that take hold of us, and become our motivation for living, it is truly all that matters. So as we approach these final days of Lent, may our eyes be continually on the one who walks the road ahead of us, who indeed will be crowned the champion, on the cross and on Easter morning. Let us not be afraid to leave some things behind, so that we can press on to what lies ahead. Resurrection is on the horizon. Thanks be to God. Amen.

~Sermon by Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford, Heritage Presbyterian Church, April 7, 2019

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[i] Fred B. Craddock, Interpretation: Philippians, (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press 1985).

[ii] Karl Barth, Epistle to the Philippians, 40^th Anniversary Edition, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2002).

[iii] Isaiah 43:18-19, The Message

[iv] Barbara Brown Taylor, “Homiletical Perspective: Philippians 3:4b-14,” Feasting on the Word: Year C, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009).

Sunday’s Sermon – Every Tongue Confess – Philippians 2:1-13, World Communion Sunday

October 1, 2017 Leave a Comment

Believe it or not, good things can come out of Stewardship seasons. In 1934, Dr. Hugh Thomson Kerr, a pastor who had recently been the moderator of the General Assembly in 1930, had an idea that churches should be brought together in a service of Christian unity, so that everyone might receive both inspiration and information, and above all, know the importance of the church of Jesus Christ and remember that each congregation is interconnected with one another. He took this thought to the Stewardship Division at Shadyside Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in 1934, and they began to celebrate with such a service on the first Sunday of October. Two years later, World Communion Sunday was adopted by the US Presbyterian Church, and then it began to spread to other denominations and was endorsed by the Federal Council of Churches (now the National Council of Churches) in 1940. The pastor’s son, Rev. Donald Kerr, was a teenager at the time, but later noted:

The concept spread very slowly at the start. People did not give it a whole lot of
thought. It was during the Second World War that the spirit caught hold, because
we were trying to hold the world together. World Wide Communion symbolized
the effort to hold things together, in a spiritual sense. It emphasized that we are
one in the Spirit and the Gospel of Jesus Christ[i].

This morning, almost 100 years later, we join with brothers and sisters in Christ in different congregations, denominations, and countries to celebrate our unity. We can see glimpses of that truth here at Heritage. Last week, we welcomed several new members from different places, including Hilda Snyders, who comes to us from the Dutch Reformed Church in South Africa. During the week, we met school children and adults who were evacuees from St. Croix and opened our facilities to them so they could have a makeshift school and activity time for their children and teenagers as they worked on what would come next for their families. Today at 11:00, we will be joined in worship by our brothers and sisters from Marietta Presbyterian Church, the Korean speaking congregation who meets in our original church building up the hill. In just a week’s time, we have several new examples of the wideness of God’s family.

World Communion Sunday is a wonderful witness to the entire body of Christ, and is a time for us to renew our energies and be inspired by the great cloud of witnesses that surround us, and have even gone before us. In a time where our society and world is full of division and argument, when threats of war lurk not just in the shadows, but in our news cycles, we need to know that we are not as disconnected and alone as it may seem. World Communion Sunday is an affirmation that we are united by something far bigger than anything that could threaten to divide us. Today is a reminder and a celebration of the faith and friendship we share through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Paul’s letter to the Philippians is the perfect text to help focus us on this important point. It is written to a Christian community in eastern Macedonia with whom Paul had great affection. Throughout the letter, his encouragement and commentary are signs of a friendship and love with this group of believers in a way that is more affectionate than almost any of his other letters. In addition to this theme of love and care for each other, Paul continually encourages them to seek unity. Writer Monya Stubbs suggests that:

Paul lays out three levels of unity into which he hopes the Philippian community will grow stronger: (1) a unity of purpose or mission in living and proclaiming the gospel, (2) a unity around the principle of “other interestedness,” and (3) a unity of perspective where people understand themselves as mutually indebted to one another[ii].

For Paul, unity is related to actions and is a lived-out reality of our beliefs. In writing to the Philippians, he hopes that they will learn a pattern of thinking and living that is humble. He knows that this is a difficult thing to do. In fact, it can only be accomplished with the help of Jesus Christ himself.

Paul includes a beautiful hymn in verses 6 through 11 of our passage, one that was likely familiar to this congregation in Philippi, and helps illustrate the core elements of his message with a beautiful description of who Jesus is as an example and inspiration to believers. Marcus Borg notes that, in Jesus:

Rather than being an article of belief, God becomes an experiential reality. . . .
God can be known in that direct and intimate way, not merely believed in[iii].

Through Jesus, humanity has a relationship with God that is defined by love. In this way, Jesus is the manifestation of the heart of God[iv]. Such a revelation, such a love, is meant to evoke a response in the Philippians, and in us. It should call us to worship. The very name of Jesus should stir in us something deep and profound, touching the places of deepest longing and sincerest hope. It should bring us to the place where we, too, bow down and worship, confessing with our loudest voice that Jesus Christ is Lord!

I love the phrase in verse 11 from this ancient hymn “every tongue confess,” because it reminds me that Christians have a variety of ways of professing our faith, which I imagine sounds like a beautiful symphony to God. We profess our faith in literal different tongues, using different languages to proclaim the same good news. Today, we hear words of Scripture, prayer, and praise in English and Korean, and join our voices in these and the other languages of our hearts to offer our worship to God. We also use different kinds of words and phrases to articulate and explain our faith. While the profession of Jesus Christ as Lord is what makes us distinctly Christian, we have many ways of explaining what that means. Leanne Van Dyk describes some of them in this way:

One person might say, “It means that Jesus is my personal Lord and Savior and, if I believe in him, I will have eternal life.” Someone else might say, “It means that Jesus is on the side of the poor and oppressed and we are called to join in the struggle for justice.” Yet another person might declare, “Jesus is the King of the world. We must follow Jesus and obey him.” Someone else might answer, “Yes, Jesus is King. But his rule is best seen in the suffering of the cross. We must turn upside down all our notions of power because of Jesus.[v]”

What would you say? How would you confess that Jesus Christ is Lord? Chances are, there would be as many different answers in this room as there are people. And I think that is almost always a good thing, because it means that Jesus Christ isn’t just some historical figure about whom we learn a biography or facts and figures. It means that Jesus is alive and well in our lives today, and has impacted us in ways that are deeply personal and unique. That is the power of God’s love, a God who is at work in each of us, even now.

The many ways we confess who Jesus is also means that we need each other in community to fully get a picture of God. Together with the stories of our scriptures, we can better understand the many dimensions and aspects of God that make our great mystery of faith. Through these understandings, we might hope to get a glimpse of Christ himself.

When I was a child at church summer camp, I remember learning a song whose chorus asks:

Have you seen Jesus my Lord? He’s here in plain view.
Take a look, open your eyes, he’ll show it to you[vi].

I sang it constantly, because I fell in love with the soprano descant, but also because it was a reminder of the ways we experience God in the midst of our lives. The verses speak of God in the sunset, and the ocean, and on the cross. By my favorite is the final verse:

Have you ever stood in the family with the Lord there in your midst?
Seen the face of Christ on each other? Then I say . . . you’ve seen Jesus my Lord[vii].

Today, on this World Communion Sunday, we stand in the family of God, and the Lord is here in our midst. We proclaim the good news that Jesus Christ is Lord to each other, as we join in prayer, lift our voices in song, and share in bread and cup. Look around you, brothers and sisters in Christ. The Lord is in our midst. May we see Jesus Christ on the face of each other, may we feel his presence, may we hear his name and bend a knee to confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
October 1, 2017, 8:30 am service (11:00 am was abridged from this manuscript to allow for interpretation in Korean by Rev. Paul Lee of Marietta Presbyterian Church)
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[i] John A. Dalles, “Presbyterian Origins: World Wide Communion Sunday,” Originally printed in the October 7, 2002 issue of Presbyterian Outlook, http://www.wekivapresbyterian.org/articles/presbyterian_origins.htm, accessed 9/28/2017.
[ii] Monya A. Stubbs, “Philippians,” True to Our Native Land: An African American New Testament Commentary, Brian K. Blount, General Editor, (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2007).
[iii] Marcus J. Borg, Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time: The Historical Jesus and the Heart of Contemporary Faith, (New York: HarperOne, 1994).
[iv] Leanne Van Dyk, Believing in Jesus Christ, (Louisville, KY: Geneva Press, 2002).
[v] Leanne Van Dyk.
[vi] “Jesus My Lord” by John Fischer, copyright 1970 by Songs and Creations, Inc., as printed in Songs, compiled by Yohann Anderson (San Anselmo, CA: Songs and Creations, Inc. , 1982).
[vii] Ibid.

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

Sunday’s Sermon – Looking to Jesus – Hebrews 11:29-2:2

Sunday’s Sermon – Great Christological Hymns- Philippians 2:1-11, Colossians 1:15-20

Sunday’s Sermon – Bracket Buster – Philippians 3:4b-14; Isaiah 43:16-21

Sunday’s Sermon – Every Tongue Confess – Philippians 2:1-13, World Communion Sunday

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