prayer

Sunday’s Sermon – Waiting Rooms – Psalm 27; Luke 13:31-35

March 17, 2019 Leave a Comment

Think about the last time you were in a waiting room. Maybe it was a doctor’s office, or hospital or surgical center. Maybe it was a car dealership or the DMV. Often times, they have a similar feel to them: rows or groupings of identical chairs, bad lighting, stacks of dated magazines. Instead of bad elevator music, there is often a television set to a never-ending stream of home improvement shows. We scan the room to find a seat and generally hope that whatever we are waiting for won’t take too long. Sometimes, we know it’s going to take a while, so we bring some provisions. Generally speaking, there are about a million other things we would rather be doing, or places we would rather be.

Waiting can be tedious and boring. The longer the wait is drawn out, the more restless we can become, and irritation begins to set-in. Waiting rooms can even breed anxiety, particularly in the face of fearing the unknown. Our time in waiting rooms, then, becomes give and take between hopeful anticipation and wrestling with the unknown. What a clever parallel to these 40 days of Lent for us. Lent is a time of waiting, where we are left to sit with our thoughts and ask deep questions about faith, even when we know we may not get clear or final answers. It is a time to have focused, intentional conversation with God, and to grow in our understanding of God’s presence in our lives and in our world. In Lent, we are bold enough to confront the gritty parts of our lives and world and try to make sense of it all in light of our faith.

That, in a nutshell, is the journey of the Psalmist in Psalms 27. Perhaps more than any other book in the Bible, Psalms speak to the experience of our lives with the full range of human emotion. This book of 150 includes joy, sorrow, anger, confidence and hope, confusion and despair. Its wide diversity is a powerful testament that we can talk to God under any circumstances. In our text for today, the psalmist balances fear and trust with a gritty honesty that speaks to our Lenten experiences.

The Psalm is bookended with affirmations of faith and trust in God. This is where the writer begins and ends. On their own, these verses “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?” (verse 1) and “wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage;” (verse 14) make for comforting phrases. But their true power comes by examining the verses in between. For the journey of the psalmist does not ignore the pain and challenges in his own life. In fact, it does quite the opposite, as the struggles are laid out before God in a lament.

The psalmist doesn’t ignore his suffering or minimize it. He does not check it at the door so to speak as he comes before God . . . Rather, he tells his story. He speaks of his pain. He calls out to God with all the rawness and honesty of someone who has been pushed to the limit. He doesn’t hold back. He pours out his complaint to God, not to push God away but rather, to plead for more, more of God’s presence, more of God’s instruction, more of God’s protection[i].

This week, the popular Tuesday night drama, This is Us featured an entire episode set in the waiting room of a hospital over the span of 26 hours or so. The tension was palpable throughout the episode, with each character responding to the events in their own way. One attempted to lighten the waiting with a game: name a food that is not improved by either chocolate or ranch. But it didn’t take long for their own life issues to come pouring out. Conflicts were sparked and the precarious nature of their relationships were on display. Stories of truth were spoken.

This is the work of Lent, as we lift up the struggles our lives into God’s light. In this 40-day waiting room, we identify our own shortcomings and challenges, whether it is a broken relationship with a friend or coworker or those things about ourselves that we long to change but just can’t seem to figure out how to do it in ways that stick. Lent is a time for beginning to sort it all out, within ourselves, with each other, and even with God. And, going further, Lent is also a time when we are painfully aware of the hardships and brokenness that exists in our world. It doesn’t take long to find these examples, either. This morning, we might name those in Nebraska and other parts of the Midwest who are literally underwater; for farmers whose crops are gone, for those trapped on rooftops, and those who have now lost everything. We acknowledge the horrors experienced in a mosque during prayer on Friday in Christchurch, New Zealand, an act of terror that led to the death of 50 of God’s children. We lament the ways in which hatred takes hold and intolerance and fear become driving forces. Both in our world and our nation and our communities, there is much to call attention to.

These are also the cries of Jesus over Jerusalem in our gospel text, and his longing for wholeness in the midst of heartbreak. Jesus uses the image of a hen, gathering her brood under her wings, as an image for a God who longs to take this brokenness and pain and offer shelter and protection.

And while the gospel text has the children denying such an opportunity, the Psalmist finds a place in God’s shelter. The Psalmist is insistent on God’s presence in the midst of all that scares him. This psalm, then, “shows a courageous life lived amid the onslaught of bullies described as oppressors, enemies, and false witnesses[ii]. It dares to name the challenges and struggles of the world and then proclaim that they will be no match for God, and at the same time let surface those doubting questions of how that can be true. For the psalmist, faith and doubt become intermingled in the very real wrestling with what it means to live in God’s light and at the same time, the unknown of how or if things will go from there. Amanda Benckhuysen notes:

Confidence in God’s ability to overcome the darkest of evils does not require holding back our tears, our disappointments, our deep longing for more of God. Faith does not rule out doubt. Both trust and lament are proper expressions of faith in the context of hardship and suffering and often they go hand in hand. What they share in common is an unwavering conviction in the reality, the goodness, and the power of God, who is both worthy of our confidence but also attentive to our cries for help[iii].

In the end, the psalmist has a choice in the face of his fears. And rather than give into them, and into the spiral of reactionary choices made out of fear, the psalmist chooses to trust instead. And little by little, this choice builds into a renewed confidence of who God is, even as the psalmist begs for confirmation to be revealed. Richard Stern describes this as a psalm about when our intentions are put under pressure, and he leans into the ambiguity of how it ends, noting:

This is not a psalm about how God answers our prayers. It is a prayer, even a plea, for patience, for trust, for the ability and the endurance to wait for the Lord, even when there is no sign that prayers may be answered, when the Lord’s arrival is a long, undetermined way off[iv].

This Psalm tells the truth of life as we know it: even in the midst of deep faith, there are deep questions and many unknowns. Our lives, particularly in these Lenten weeks, are living in this tension, in the waiting room of what is and what will be. Here, may we name the things that are real. Here, may we trust in a God who walks in the grittiness of our lives with us. Here, may we find a way in the wilderness. Here, may we wait for the Lord, with a hopeful anticipation that lets go of our fears and trusts a new ending to God, who is our light and our salvation. Be strong, and let your heart take courage, for these 40 days and beyond. Amen.

~Sermon by Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford, Heritage Presbyterian Church, March 17, 2019

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[i] Amanda Benckhuysen, “Commentary on Psalm 27,” Working Preacher for March 17, 2019, https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3994, accessed 3/16/19.

[ii] Robin Gallaher Branch, “Exegetical Perspective: Psalm 27,” Feasting on the Word, Year C, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009).

[iii] Amanda Benckhuysen, “Commentary on Psalm 27,” Working Preacher for March 17, 2019, https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3994, accessed 3/16/19.

[iv] Richard C. Stern, “Homiletical Perspective: Psalm 27,” 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 – Be Thou My Vision – 1 Kings 3:3-14

September 9, 2018 Leave a Comment

God, give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed,
courage to change the things that should be changed,
and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other[i].

Sound familiar? These are the earliest form of the Serenity prayer, most-often attributed to American theologian Reinhold Niebuhr in the 1930s or 40s, perhaps inspired through his work in collaboration with other civic leaders of the time, such as long-time YWCE official Winnifred Crane Wygal[ii]. A variation is championed by Alcoholics Anonymous and other recovery groups as a model prayer of humility and desire for real change in the lives of the individual and the world, and it is second perhaps only to the Lord’s Prayer in terms of usage and familiarity.

In times of transition and change, it makes sense to ask God for guidance, and certainly for wisdom as we seek to figure things all out. To do so means that we acknowledge there is a higher power and we remember that we cannot do everything on our own. It also serves as our affirmation that we do not have to try to do so, for we have a guide and guardian, a companion on our journey in the one who loves us and calls us and claims us.

Our text this morning drops us in the midst of such a prayer. A bit of context to orient us:

The books known as First and Second Kings were once a single structure, the last book in a saga that included Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, and Samuel. It received its final shape in the early period of the Babylonian exile. Its intended audience would have included the leaders who were deported to Babylon, the poor who were left behind in Jerusalem, and the Jews who had taken refuge in Egypt[iii].

The story of Solomon provides identity for the people of God once again. It provides a meaning to life to replace what has been lost in defeat and exile, beginning with the story of a new king in the midst of a dream, with God appearing before him and asking what he wants.

Can you imagine if God showed up and asked you to name one thing you wanted? What would you answer? The image of God as almost a fairy godmother or genie in a lamp is generally not a favorable one to embrace theologically, but here, in the context of a dream, it opens the door to the enormity of possibilities that come from the involvement of the Almighty. The sky truly appears to be the limit for Solomon. It is interesting to note that the surrounding chapters, and indeed the totality of the story of Solomon, often present power struggles and conflicting personality traits within the king, who more often than not gives into the darker side of power and pride during his kingship. But here, even if just for a moment, we glimpse a humble leader who prayerfully asks for something as profound and meaningful as that classic Serenity Prayer that would follow centuries later.

In many Bibles, Solomon’s prayer is subtitled as a “prayer for wisdom,” with language that reveals the breadth and depth of such a request. In verse 9 he asks for an “understanding mind[iv],” which can also be translated or understood as a “discerning heart[v],” or as Eugene Peterson puts it, “a God-listening heart[vi].” This reminds us that wisdom can be measured in many different ways. It is distinct from just being “smart” or having a high IQ; it reflects a soundness of judgment based on knowledge and experience. In the context of prayer, wisdom is God-centered, involving a vision that comes not internally but externally from the Divine. A few weeks ago, one of our own members noted in a meeting that wisdom is about “taking a step back and having the ability to ‘breathe from your heart.’” That, for me, is a perfect encapsulation of this dream moment, and the desire expressed by Solomon.

In his prayer, Solomon is asking for his will and perception of the world to be in line with God’s. He is seeking a new vision for the people of God at a new time in their history:

Solomon does not need a rod and staff like Moses, because the Jews are not in captivity. Nor does he need military resources like his father David. The challenges before Solomon will be mostly administrative as he attempts to bring together tribes from the north and south under one united governing establishment[vii].

And so he seeks God’s guidance and insights. If he had known the Irish poet of the 8^th century, he might have broken out into the song played so beautifully by our bells and which we will sing later in the service: “Be Thou My Vision.”

Whether in song or in the Serenity prayer, or even joining Solomon himself, these are big prayers to pray. To seek wisdom and vision from God is a humble act of faith that releases a wave of unknowns as we dare to loosen our tight grips on the things we know and allow ourselves to be shaped by God in perhaps surprising ways. It means paying attention to things that we do without thinking, such as our very breath, and bringing an increased awareness of our own rhythms. It may feel unnatural at first, but once we get the hang of it, we often find that our breath deepens and we have a stronger connection to God and to one another. There, we find the same treasure as described in Proverbs, a book of wisdom sayings often attributed to Solomon himself, and we will become more faithful in our walk with our Lord.

Today, we are beginning some of that work as a community as we launch a Visioning process that will take the better part of the next year. Our hope is to have a collaborative, shared vision for the future of Heritage Presbyterian Church that all who are a part of our community – whether you have been a member since the early years or have just walked in our door – might be inspired by as we go about following Christ together here in Acworth.

It is a method of discernment that takes time, and will happen in several ways. In just a few moments, you will be given a short, four-question initial survey about your perceptions of our church. I hope that all of you will participate. Even if this is your first time, we would love to hear your thoughts and first impressions. We also want the thoughts of our children – Merry Willis and Barbara Jessee will meet them at the door by the PRAYground in just a few moments to spend more active time with these questions in the Choir Room. If you complete the survey this morning, you are welcome to place it in the offering plate as one of your gifts to God today. You can also bring it with you to our tailgate lunch and place it in a basket in the Fellowship Hall, or return it to the church office. During the tailgate, you can add other thoughts on these questions to larger papers at the entrance, and these questions along with more information about our process will also be sent in an e-mail newsletter tomorrow, with a link to an online survey with the same questions so that all may participate.

So, why take time for this today in the midst of worship? It’s more than just because you are all sitting here and hopefully paying attention. We are beginning here because we want to follow in the steps of Solomon’s dream-prayer, and to remind ourselves that before anything else, our hopes and dreams for our congregation are about our relationship with God. We are not just putting forth our own set of objectives and strategies; we are seeking wisdom from God. We are asking the Holy Spirit to infuse our work and help God’s vision be our vision for the future. This is the only way I know to truly and faithfully follow Christ – by remembering that he is the one leading us!

This is meant to be a time of prayer and reflection, both for our congregation and for us as individuals. I hope it will also inspire you to reflect on the places in your life where you desire God’s wisdom. What are you discerning right now, and how might you invite Christ to be an intentional companion with you in that journey? What things do you need to let go of a bit and allow the Spirit to help you see them in new ways, through God’s eyes? When we sing together, could “be thou my vision” be your prayer today?

As we begin this time of visioning, hear these words from Thomas Blair:

Wisdom has to do with whom we entrust ourselves to; who we know can fill our empty buckets; whom we most believe, trust, and confide in. If we do not know what resources we have, we cannot use them to make happen what we want to happen. If we do not know what we want to happen, then we will not even know what to wish for in the first place. Wisdom arrives when the soul discerns its destiny, when life aligns in sync with the soul[viii].

Friends, may we humbly enter a time of prayer and reflection, breathing in the spirit of God and seeking wisdom with understanding, God-listening hearts . . .

Shared in worship on September 9, this initial survey is also available online:
https://forms.office.com/Pages/ResponsePage.aspx?id=JkvAr5sI1ky58Co_KAkTvlK0GByoA79FkGuJUA8Ih2ZUN1JOWVhRNDRPWk9CQktWNFJKVVk5RUQ2UC4u

Survey Questions:

If you could name one thing that is most important to you regarding your involvement with HPC what would it be?
The things that concern me most about HPC are:
Where do you hope God will lead HPC in the next 3 years?
Other reflections about our church/congregation.

Follow the link above to submit your responses online, or return them to the church office (office@heritagepres.com). Additional paper copies are available in the Narthex, and can be returned in the offering plate on September 16.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
September 9, 2018

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[i] Fred Shapiro, “Who Wrote the Serenity Prayer?” July/August 2008 article in Yale Alumni Magazine, http://archives.yalealumnimagazine.com/issues/2008_07/serenity.html , accessed 9/6/2018.
[ii] For further discussion of authorship, see also https://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/11/us/11prayer.html.
[iii] Heather Murray Elkins, “Homiletical Perspective: 1 Kings 3:5-12,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011).
[iv] New Revised Standard Version.
[v] New International Version. The King James Version uses “an understanding heart.”
[vi] The Message (a paraphrase by Eugene Peterson).
[vii] John L. Thomas, Jr, “Theological Perspective: 1 Kings 3:5-12,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011).
[viii] Thomas W. Blair, “Pastoral Perspective: 1 Kings 3:5-12,” Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011).

Ash Wednesday Sermon – God’s Return Policy – Joel 2:1-2, 12-17

February 14, 2018 Leave a Comment

One of the realities of living in a consumer-driven culture such as ours is that inevitably at some point, we end up purchasing something and then realizing, for whatever reason, that we need to return it. From unwanted or duplicate gifts to things that don’t fit to products that are defective, life leads us to the customer service area and the return line. And, as long as you’re not in too much of a hurry, it’s a pretty good system. One of the keys to a successful trip, and to not holding up the line, is to know something about the store’s return policy. Receipts can be a saving grace, but if you’ve lost that little strip of paper, stores can now look up your purchase if you used a credit card. Without some record, you might be stuck with the lowest retail price from the past 90 days, the opportunity for an exchange, or simply store credit. Reading the fine print, a store’s return policy gets quickly complicated. If you’ve made your purchase online, you add another layer of complexity, even if they have retail stores nearby. Sometimes the long lines and hassle can make you wonder if it’s even worth it to make the return, or if you should just cut your losses and keep what you have.

Our experience with returns might help us as we begin the season of Lent. This is a time when we’re called to closely examine our lives and seek to be more faithful followers of Christ. In doing so, we are likely to find aspects of our lives that need to be changed or eliminated entirely – exchanged or return, if you will. Consider it standing in line for God’s customer service – a 40 day line (not including Sundays) where you think more about what it is that you are carrying, and prepare to lighten the load at the counter. To make this analogy work, we have to understand God’s return policy. To do so, we turn to Scripture.

The prophets have a lot to say about returns. In fact, it’s one of their most popular words of instruction to the Israelites. “In Hebrew, this verb means ‘to arrive again at the initial point of departure.’ Here it suggests that one had been originally with God, had moved away from God, and was not returning to God[i].” Return is an about face, a change in direction, and a reorientation to the world. It is a word of hope and a word of covenant, trusting that returning to God will bring about restoration for God’s people. Joel follows this understanding of return, calling God’s people to it in the text we read tonight. Throughout this short book, he suggests that Jerusalem has forgotten who God is, and calls upon God’s people to rediscover the identity of the one true God. Verse 13 reminds God’s people of the true divine nature. This description is ancient – going all the way back to promise of God to Moses in Exodus 34 after the people had created a golden calf. It is the perfect, concise example of God’s return policy: that God is “gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and relents from punishing.” All of our questions about returning to God rest on this truth.

Joel speaks of return in the context of imminent disaster, perhaps a natural one with a plague of locusts. The beginning of our reading tonight indicates something looming on the horizon, which Joel attributes to calamity brought about by “the day of the Lord.” Something big is going to happen. One commentary refers to this text as “an alarm bell in the darkness of the night[ii].” Joel’s language would immediately register with the Israelites in Judah; it is a call to attention and to action. Given this policy, we are called to get our items, and ourselves, in order quickly. Don’t just leave your returns on the kitchen counter or lost in your trunk, a procrastinated item from the errands list. Pay attention to them and get it done. This is the work of return. This is the work of Lent. Lent is about letting go of those things that get in the way of our relationship with God and with others. It is about sorting through all the “stuff” that we have in our lives and make decisions about what should stay and what should go. This is why some people “give up” things for the season, and others take on new practices or focus on things in a new way.

But more than just “giving something up” for a season, I think our passage tonight asks what do you have to return to God? Those things in your life that you would like to change, but need help to make it happen. Those things that just aren’t working for you to grow in the ways you know God is calling you to. Those things you wish you hadn’t bought into and would like to give up. Those things that you simply have too much of and don’t really need. Take inventory over these next 40 days, and don’t be afraid to bring them to God for return. There’s no limit on what God will take back. In fact, God invites us to bring it all – even the things we are too embarrassed to talk about. God is always ready and waiting, open 24 hours a day if you will, to hear us.

Sometimes, the return process includes naming why we are returning or exchanging a particular item. Some of the options include: didn’t fit (too big or too small), wasn’t what was expected, changed my mind, the product was defective, and so on. This naming is important for us to do in Lent. It helps us do more than just identify our sins – it calls us to understand where they came from in order to make the changes needed to hopefully avoid repeating them in the future. It enables God to work with us and make us into new creations. It’s God’s exchange process at work, a process that utimately isn’t dependent on anything we have done or can do, but reminds us that we are solely reliant on God’s love and grace. In the midst of what is very difficult and sobering work, this is good news. God not only takes back our returns, no matter what – God works in us to make us right with God once again. Returning to God, as Joel outlines in verse 13, is more than just a transactional return; this is a process of transformation.

Lent calls us to read the fine print God’s return policy. It allows us to test it out, carefully and thoughtfully. We do so confident in who God is. And if the words of prophets like Joel aren’t strong enough to convince us, there is one more guarantee in place. In the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, God’s grace was revealed to the whole world. In Christ, the promises of God from the very beginning were sealed forever. In life and in death, we belong to God. This is what we gather to remind ourselves of tonight, receiving crosses on our foreheads to indicate whose we are, symbolized in ashes to remind us of our own mortality and our utter dependence on God for all things. We get in line, not only to confess our sins and humble ourselves, as covering in ashes symbolized in the days of the prophets, but also to return ourselves to the one who created us from nothing, and loves us through anything.

The return line begins here, tonight. Bring what you have, who you are this evening, and know that you can continue to return what you need to over this season of Lent and beyond. There is no return too big or too small. There is no return that God will not accept. For God already knows everything we could possibly bring, and has chosen to love us anyway. So come, Return to the Lord. Trust that God is gracious, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, and always ready for your return. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
Ash Wednesday, February 14, 2018

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[i] Dianne Bergant, “Joel 2:1-2, 12-17, Exegetical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
^[ii] Texts for Preaching: A Lectionary Commentary based on the NRSV, Year C. Charles B. Cousar, Beverly R. Gaventa, J. Clinton McCann, Jr., James D. Newsome, editors. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1994)

Sunday’s Sermon – How Long? Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19; Isaiah 64:1-9

December 3, 2017 Leave a Comment

I don’t mean to alarm you, but it is now December and Christmas is in 22 days. Chances are, this fact hasn’t escaped you too much. There are numerous ways to count down the days, from functional décor to chocolate filled calendars to large placards at the entrance of a store. As an adult, time seems to accelerate during this month, which is extra full of activities and things to do. But as a child, I remember feeling like Christmas was never going to get here. It couldn’t come soon enough, and I, like many children, would repeatedly ask “how much longer?” We have entered into a unique time of waiting in the next few weeks.

In the church year, this is the season of Advent, a time marked by wonder, and expectation. It begins on the third Sunday before Christmas, and is a time set apart for anticipation of the coming of Christ, both the celebration and commemoration of his first coming with his birth and the anticipation and longing for his second coming which has not yet happened. These two Advents are both marked by the common factors of waiting and anticipation. It is a season in which we ask “how long,” as a sign of our deep yearning for God’s to be with us. And each time we ask this question, we voice our faith, and join God’s people throughout the ages who have longed for God’s presence.

This is the setting for both of our texts today, which begin on a more sober note than the twinkling lights, tinsel, and Christmas parades. Psalm 80 and Isaiah 64 voice serious lament and anxiety about the state of the world. With this,

Advent begins not on a note of joy, but of despair. Humankind has reached the end of its rope. All our schemes for self-improvement, for extricating ourselves from the traps we have set for ourselves, have come to nothing. We have not realized at the deepest level of our being that we cannot save ourselves and that, apart from the intervention of God, we are totally and irretrievably lost. . . . The season thus attempts to capture that spirit of hope in the midst of hopelessness, a spirit of yearning for that which would be too good to be true: some new and unique expression of God’s intention to save a world gone wrong[i].

The traditional theme for this first Sunday of Advent is hope, specifically recalling the hope of the prophets. For Isaiah, we hear it in chapter 64, which comes almost at the end of the book after the Israelites have returned from exile. All should have been restored, but the reality doesn’t reflect that. There is still intense oppression and struggle; a life fraught with challenge. The verses we read today are a prayer for salvation that express two components of true Advent hope:

on the one hand, a deep sense of desperation about a situation out of control is sounded. On the other hand, a bold and confident trust in God is voiced, addressed to a God who can intervene (if God will) to make life peaceable and joyous. Life without God is unbearable. That is the present tense. Life with God can be completely transformed. That is the urgent hope of the prayer[ii].

As our call to worship said this morning, this is not a naïve hope or wishful thinking, but one born out of deep conviction and trust. It is, as Vaclav Havel called it, an “orientation of the spirit,” distinct from optimism, in that “it is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense regardless of those it turns out[iii].” Advent is about this kind of hope, a conviction held even in the face of adversity, made possible by faith in God.

In a similar way, Psalm 80 voices hope as well. Its setting is similar to Isaiah, with subscript notes that it is a Psalm of Asaph, which puts it among twelve other psalms (50, 73-83) that are a collection “likely of northern origin, reflect[ing] a strong interest in divine justice, Israel’s history from exodus to exile, and Zion[iv].”

The Psalm expresses a deep desire to figure God out as the people wait to see signs of God’s presence. The Psalm gives voice to the grief of the people over the impression that God has disappeared. Rather than remain paralyzed and silent, the Psalm gives the voice to move the people from despair to hope. This movement is found in the question “how long?” that breaks the silence and creates a space for truth telling and discovery among the people. The Psalm demonstrates a deep faith, marked by a questioning of God’s purposes that coexists with the affirmation that God is the one who offers salvation and deliverance. As Talitha Arnold notes:

Psalm 80 is an incredible confession, not of sin, but of faith. It confesses the people’s trust in a God who is big enough to hear their hurt, strong enough to handle their anger and pain. It also identifies the congregation as a people who, even in their suffering, have the courage to call on the Lord God of hosts to help them[v].

Both of these texts remind us that Advent is more than just a counting down the days until we get to sing silent night and remember a sweet baby in the manger. Advent is about a deep longing for God’s presence in the world, one that extends to our lives today. Advent ushers us into a season of communal prayer and petition along with the prophet Isaiah and the Asaphites and God’s people throughout the years who have hoped and called out for God to come into our lives yet again. We do this by offering our earnest cries of “How Long?”

How long will it be before things feel “normal” again after we have lost a loved one? How long before we will have a child after several miscarriages? How long will I be out of work? How long until I am able to do the things I love after a surgery or series of treatments? How long until a memory is no longer painful? How long until I am taken seriously or respected? How long will my prayers go unanswered?

And, as many “how longs” as we have in our own lives, there are just as many if not more in our own faith community and in the world. How long until we are on solid financial footing and are no longer laden with debt? How long until our pews are again overflowing each week? How long until the need is gone for something as basic as food? How long until our elected leaders can work together without letting political bias and lobbyist agendas set the tone? How long until young girls are not coerced into sex trafficking? How long until “mass shooting” is absent from our news cycle? How long until all women and men are safe from harassment and misconduct in the workplace? How long until troops come home to their families because there is no longer a risk of war and conflict has ceased?

How long? How long? We cry out to God, over and over again, how long? And then, as the Psalmist does three times, we ask for God to deliver us from the state that we are in. “Restore us, O God; let your face shine, that we may be saved.” It is a call for a blessing, a longing to receive something only God can offer. It echoes the Aaronic priestly blessing from Numbers 6:22-27, “may the face of God shine upon you” in ways that are only possible for those who are in the presence of God. And the grammar of this request for blessing is both “wish and declaration,” something we hope to happen and something we already know to be true[vi]. This is the posture of living in between the two Advents of God’s coming.

We know God’s presence coming to us is within God’s ability and the way God has engaged with the world, made manifest in the incarnation of Jesus Christ. And, at the same time, it is a hopeful orientation to the world of what is still possible, of trusting that God can, at any moment, break into our difficult and heavy experiences of longing with a fresh vision and presence.

Advent is about being bold enough to ask God to do just that. It is an expression of hope, based on a deep seated belief that what God has done before, God can and will do again. It’s about adopting a posture of expectation and anticipation of God bursting on the scene. It is about watching and waiting, yes, but also actively engaging in dialogue with God marked by our hope in what God can do. It is about making the active choice to hope, even when that looks like cries of “how long”? May this be our approach to the next 22 days. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
December 3, 2017

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[i] “First Sunday of Advent,” Walter Brueggemann, Charles B. Cousar, Beverly R. Gaventa, James D. Newsome, Texts for Preaching: A Lectionary Commentary Based on the NRSV – Year B, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1993).
[ii] Ibid.
[iii] Vaclav Havel, as quoted by David LaMotte in Worldchanging 101: Challenging the Myth of Powerlessness, (Montreat, NC: Dryad Publishing, 2014), 28.
[iv] William P. Brown, “Book of Psalms,” in The New Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible. ed. K . D. Sakenfeld (Nashville, Abingdon, 2009), 4:673, as quoted by James K. Mead, “Commentary on Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19,” Working Preacher, December 3, 2017, http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3484, accessed 11/30/2017.
[v] Talitha Arnold, “Pastoral Perspective: Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19,” Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
[vi][vi] Rolf Jacobson, Karoline Lewis, and Matt Skinner,“Sermon Brainwave, #572 – First Sunday of Advent” Podcast by Working Preacher, Posted November 25, 2017, http://www.workingpreacher.org/brainwave.aspx?podcast_id=950, accessed 11/30/17.

Sunday’s Sermon – Who Taught You That? Matthew 23:1-12

November 5, 2017 Leave a Comment

“Who taught you that?” When it follows an impressive feat or display of skill, such as a delicious home cooked meal, the tone is quite positive and full of admiration. “Who taught you that?” It can also be skeptical, with an eyebrow raised, questioning the accuracy of a teaching or method. Sometimes it comes when a parent discovers a mischievous child’s surprise (good or bad) – then it manifests as humorous denial. Regardless of tones, this question beckons the rest of the story. It invites us into explanation for our actions and to provide rationale for our skills. It’s like putting a citation in a paper for a class. As teachers are known to say, it is important to “give credit where credit is due.”

In today’s text, it seems the scribes and Pharisees were overly anticipating such a question; and they wanted to be the answer. After all, it was their role to teach and instruct the people on God’s will. They are the experts, and have spent countless encounters with Jesus in Matthew’s gospel, quizzing him on his knowledge of scriptures, perhaps trying to corner him into a moment where the second tone of disapproval might raise the question “who taught you that?” Our opening verses indicate that they have gotten so caught up in their status within the community that they merely spout off their knowledge and righteous answers without actually living in a way that reflects them. Here, of course, is where Jesus takes issue. He is quick to call out those who have become lazy in their ivory towers of religious authority. While their teaching may indeed be sound, they have missed the point.

It is tempting for us to read these passages of conflict between Jesus and the religious leaders of his day and make them out to be the villains of the gospels. We gleefully join in hisses and boos when they enter the scene, and smile all too knowingly when they are rightfully called “hypocrites” and “brood of vipers.” In this text, we hear Matthew’s detailed descriptions of their ostentatious display of religiosity and pat ourselves on the back to be on the side of Jesus, knowing just how awful these people are. But, what if, these same tendencies of the first century religions leaders aren’t so far removed from our own? Perhaps the vanity, hypocrisy, and arrogance that trouble Jesus are more universal human characteristics that we all embody more than we’d like to admit.

The lure of power is great for us, too. We all have things we yearn for in life: success, money, status, or simply being liked by others. And in those moments when we accomplish steps towards them on any level, we feel pretty special. We must have done something right to deserve this, right? God must be smiling on us, rewarding us for our goodness. Patrick Gray says:

“It is so easy to confuse our interests with God’s purposes, our power with God’s sovereignty, our standing with God’s glory[i].”

After all:

“human beings like to matter, to be important, to be honored. We all want to be known and loved; this is what it means to be human . . . How important is it for all of us to feel as if we matter and are appreciated! We want promotions, raises, bonuses, good grades. We are the “they” – the finger points back to us, because we are all human[ii].”

To these authorities in the first century, and to us, it is as if Jesus saying, “who taught you that?”

This passage calls us beyond ourselves. For the Pharisees, Jesus is pointing them to the heart of their faith, and reminding them that they are not God. In our own day to day lives, we sometimes need those reminders, too. We get caught up in the excitement of our own accomplishments and are blinded to others as we beam with our own pride. This passage, though, calls us off of our pedestals to consider that it’s really not about us. For behind any of our accomplishments are a host of individuals who have loved us, nurtured us, taught us, and supported us along the way.

Who taught you that? It’s the question answered in acceptance speeches for awards, as actors and athletes thank their parents, coaches, teachers, friends, and other important people in their lives. As we reflect on our own lives and accomplishments, I imagine we also come up with a list of others to thank. It is particularly appropriate on this All Saints Sunday of the year to reflect on those who have made us the people that we are. One simple definition of a saint is someone who has shown us the way, often by example, and usually in a way that helps us be better people. Today we give thanks to God for them in our lives. We will lift them in prayer this morning during our worship service – if you have not already, write down their name on a prayer card or scrap of paper and give to an usher during the next hymn. You can also say their names out loud during the prayer as well.

After a death, I have the privilege of being with families as they grieve, and love hearing stories about their loved one. Almost without fail, the stories are not about “stuff” or even “power”; they revolve around how much of an impact the individual had on others, his or her positive example of how to live, and of his or her self-giving spirit. This humility is a common trait among saints, who gave of themselves in big and small ways that taught us more about love and life, and did not put themselves above others in doing so. Saints model how Jesus calls us to be at the end of this passage – the greatest among us who have been servants. On this day especially, we remember that even though they are no longer here with us, they have been exalted in heaven, rejoicing as saints in God’s presence forever. This is the image the Bible gives us over and over again of saints: endless praise at the throne of God. For you see, it isn’t really about the saints either. Saints point us to an even greater “who”– God.

As we honor and remember the saints in our lives, we really are giving thanks to God for the gifts and abilities God gave each of them, and for putting them in our lives. We acknowledge that God is the master creator, ruler of heaven and earth, and proclaim that in life and in death we belong to this amazing God. This is what Jesus is getting at, I think, in his insistence that there is only one father, God in heaven. Everything begins and ends with God. This is the message we proclaim at every memorial service or funeral. We hold our loved ones close to us, yes, but more than anything else, we remind ourselves of the heart of our faith as we gather for worship services that witness to the resurrection – the power God has beyond life on this earth to be in loving relationship with us forever.

Who taught us this? The one instructor and rabbi, Jesus Christ. Through Christ, the power of death is shattered. Because of Christ, we have eternal life, and can be bold enough to say that the saints who have gone before us, our loved ones, are indeed with God. This hope extends to us on earth as well, as we join them in the communion of saints, believers united in every time and place. It is part of what we celebrate every time we gather around the communion table. Our celebration of the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper is our rehearsal for that time when we are united with all the saints at Christ’s table, our glimpse of what it might be like. Our preparation for this, though, should extend beyond a small cube of bread and cup of juice. It should be modeled in every moment of our lives. As the Saint Theophane Vernard says, “the life of a Christian should be a perpetual jubilee, a prelude to the festivals of eternity.”

This is what All Saints Sunday is truly about: a celebration of the communion of the saints – all people of faith here today, those who have gone before us, and even those who will come after us, connected together by the one who taught us what God’s love was all about, and who led us by his example, and who continues to teach us through his Word. So let us give thanks for the ones who have gone before us, and then humbly take our seats as students of the one true God. Because we still have a lot more to learn. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
November 5, 2017

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[i] Patrick Gray, “Exegetical Perspective: Matthew 23:1-13,” David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors. Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 4 (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011).
[ii] Jacqueline J. Lewis, “Homilectical Perspective: Matthew 23:1-12”, Feasting on the Gospels: Matthew, Volume 2 Chapters 14-28, Cynthia A. Jarvis and E. Elizabeth Johnson, editors. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013).

Lord, Hear Our Prayer

August 13, 2017 Leave a Comment

In the midst of this weekend’s events in Charlottesville, as people of God we are called to pray, and to consider how (not if) God is calling us to respond in our own lives. Below are several resources that offer words of prayer and longing for a God of justice, peace, and love, to infiltrate the hate in our world and fill it with love.

Let us pray:

http://pda.pcusa.org/pda/resource/charlottesville-prayer/

http://www.franpratt.com/litanies/2017/8/12/litany-for-charlottesville-va

A Prayer from the Streets of Charlottesville from Seminarian Lauren Grubaugh

A prayer for Charlottesville

Sunday’s Sermon – Waiting Rooms – Psalm 27; Luke 13:31-35

Sunday’s Sermon – Be Thou My Vision – 1 Kings 3:3-14

Ash Wednesday Sermon – God’s Return Policy – Joel 2:1-2, 12-17

Sunday’s Sermon – How Long? Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19; Isaiah 64:1-9

Sunday’s Sermon – Who Taught You That? Matthew 23:1-12

Lord, Hear Our Prayer

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