May 3, 2020
The Rev. Bethany Peerbolte Listen Watch Print Version 1 Peter 1:17-25 I want to start today with a refresher on how and why the new testament came to be. As with all things in Christianity we should start with Jesus. Jesus was raised knowing the Tanak (Torah, Writings, and Prophets) or as we call these the Old Testament. We know Jesus knew these well because he references them constantly throughout his ministry and uses them to demonstrate how his new message is a continuation of God’s story. His message uses the same rhythm of love, hope, peace, and joy that the Old Testament is founded on. So then we get a time when Jesus is gone and the early church has to figure out how to continue living and teaching this new message. They have to take up the rhythm of God themselves and continue it into a new generation. The first writings that come about are the Epistles. These are letters Paul and other leaders write to churches to help them stay strong, sort out debates, and respond to the wider world. These letters were passed around from church to church and copied for their archives. Over time churches had a collection of letters they could pull from to help them be the church. Letters that helped them remember what the rhythm of God sounded like. When the apostles begin to be killed for their faith Luke decides to write down their stories for the people to remember too. That’s how we get Acts. And there was a rich tradition of telling the stories of Jesus’ life and teachings orally. They were not written down but passed from storyteller to listener. This is how the memory of the parables, the Sermon on the Mount, and miracles were remembered by the community. The events that encapsulated who Jesus was were told most often and some of the less loved stories were lost to time. The stories that remained in the community were about what it looks like to live in rhythm with God. Eventually. Mark decides these need to be written too. As you can imagine with oral retellings, the sayings were being twisted and he worried the truth and the rhythm would become lost. Then Matthew and Luke decide to write their accounts of Jesus, and eventually John. But with the gospels and writings, we know today were other writers. So the early church had a wide range of teachings they were using to keep the rhythm of God heard in the world. This all happened in the first 80ish years of the Church’s existence. Then we have a few hundred years where the individual town churches operate from their archived writings that have been passed around. In some of these files are other gospels, other letters, and other stories of the Church that we do not see in our Bible today. That is because in the late 4th century the New Testament was finally decided on and canonized. This happened because the Church became a real power for change and needed to organize the message. Making sure the rhythm that was being passed down and lived out was the same from one church to the next. A council met and churches submitted their favorite letters, gospels, and writings for consideration. The canonized New Testament was born out of this process. And so we have the gospels, epistles and other writings that the council decided best told the story of the Jesus followers. The words and stories that best conveyed the rhythm the community was collectively called to drum. They picked stories that showed how God has continued to guide the people and strengthen the community since the ending of the Old Testament. These words have brought Christians through thousands of years of life as a community. These are the stories we tell when someone is struggling with infertility, these are the stories we tell when people fall in love and get married, these are the stories we tell in happy times and in sad times because these stories show us that no matter what we are experiencing there is a common rhythm to it all. God has already been there and brought the people through it. It proves that we can depend on this rhythm. We can depend on God because God has weathered these storms with the people in the past, and we can trust that God will get us through the storm we are in now. For us at this time, a pandemic is not something any of us have experienced. It is new and scary, we struggle to find the rhythm. For God though, this is not new. God has brought the world through multiple pandemics. God has seen churches close due to plague and God has brought the Church through it, even in times where there isn’t Zoom and Facebook and YouTube to help maintain a level of normalcy. It is new to us, but not to God. God will keep the rhythm going as we work to find it and take it up again. It's what the Bible tells us happens every time humanity faces chaos and tragedy. The Bible is all the evidence we need to keep trying. One might ask why we don’t continue to update the stories we find here. For one, the stories here are enough. They show us how God blesses people, they show that God can handle us being angry with God in the lament sections, they show us how to respond in every situation a Christian could find themselves. Sure, there is not a story about what to do when the government asks you to stay home for two months, but it does tell us how God’s people act during adversity or unsure times. The Act's passage today was about the early church adjusting to having to be the church in a new way,without a leader sitting in the room with them, teaching them and planning trips for them. They had to devote themselves to reading scripture on their own; they had to pray for themselves; they had to identify needs on their own and find ways to meet those needs even if it meant selling their possessions. That kind of response is still very relevant for the place we find ourselves in today, and we can learn from that story, even though it is not the same situation. Another reason I think we stick to the scriptures and do not add to them is that we have access to these other more modern stories of how God interacts with Humanity through the internet and published books. Pentecost Spoiler alert: Jesus leaves the Spirit with us to help us hear God’s rhythm in all sorts of sources: in music, in the wind, in ourselves, in poetry. If we have read and heard the stories that are recorded in scripture, we know the rhythm of God’s presence. We can sense that beating of love and hope in other things and make the connections we need to be inspired even 2000 years later. For example, this month a woman named Kitty O’Meara wrote a poem called “and they stayed home” about the pandemic our world is facing now. In it, she describes what communities do when they are asked to isolate. She highlights things like reading and creating, resting, and learning new ways to live. As I read the verses from Acts today her verses came into my mind too. They sounded like they were written by the same person. They had the same rhythm, the same sense of hope in chaos. Let me show you what I mean. I took the Acts passages and Kitty’s verses and wove them together. I wonder if you can catch which words are 2000 years old and which are 20 days old. And the people stayed home. And read books, and listened, and rested, and exercised, and made art, and played games, and learned new ways of being, and were still. And listened more deeply. They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. Some meditated, some prayed, some danced. Some met their shadows. And the people began to think differently. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts. And the people healed. And, in the absence of people living in ignorant, dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways, the earth began to heal praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved. And when the danger passed, and the people joined together again, they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had been healed. (Bold words are by Kitty O’Meara, normal words are from Acts.) To hear these two passages this way made me realize how connected to God’s people throughout time we are. We are acting in the same way the early church did. They devoted themselves to one another, and WE have been more devoted to each other too. They gave their possessions to those in need, and WE have seen great generosity pouring from our community. And as I read Kitty’s words I could feel the truth in them. This is what God’s people do when life gets hard. They become more focused on the important things, the learning, the healing, the dancing, and the praying. If I had to guess, I feel confident in saying the early church danced too. The dancing just wasn’t recorded for us when someone finally wrote about their struggle 40-50 years later. The rhythm of God was what they recorded because it is what remained in their memory. Imagine a high-schooler in 2030 needing to write a history report about the coronavirus. The child asks a parent to tell them about 2020. The parent recounts the fear everyone had and how even close friends became people to be cautious around. The parent remembers the stress of teaching, entertaining, working, and parenting 24/7. The parent admits they cried in the bathroom a lot. There are some memories of making masks, but no one knew which the right kind were. Then the parent says to their child, “But you must remember some of this, you were old enough then to remember something.” The child responds and says they only remember having more time with their parents, laughing while watching YouTube videos, and cuddling till bedtime. They remember sewing the masks and picking out which colors go with each other. They admit, learning to sew is why they want to go to fashion school and make accessible clothing for people in wheelchairs. Children remember the eternal, the way they felt. The details fade from our childhood memories and we can only remember how loudly the rhythm of God’s love was beating during different experiences. The surface details fade away, the eternal rhythm remains. 1 Peter demonstrates this in a great metaphor. The Old life is like the grass, its beauty as short-lived as wildflowers. Grass dries up, flowers droop, God’s word goes on and on forever. The word is where we learn God’s rhythm. That rhythm of God, of hope and love, is what is eternal. That rhythm is what is remembered in everything we do. We know this because we hear it in the Old Testament. It continues to beat throughout the New Testament, and we can hear it inspire and guide us today. That rhythm we feel from the scripture is what ultimately gets remembered after times of struggle. Time tunes down the superficial, making it dry up and droop, and time amplifies what is God’s rhythm. We have been generous these past few weeks but the amount of money we have given is just the grass, it will fade. The number of masks we have made are like the flowers, they will wither and not be remembered exactly as they are. The number of phone numbers we dialed will disappear over time because what we do is the surface action. What will remain is why we did these things, because of love. To keep the rhythm of God’s love beating loudly into the world. If you have ever talked to someone who has been on a mission trip they usually say the same thing, life-changing, I met God there - it has anchored my faith. There is a reason many mission trips have this effect on people, it is a chance to connect to the rhythm of God’s love. Before every mission trip, I give prospective participants the same message. I tell them it would be easier for us and our partner organization if we just sent the money we are spending on food, accommodations and flights to the organization and let them pay for professional masons and workers to do this work. The work would be done better than we could ever do it. They do not need us to build or to work. We do not need them to meet God. So there must be another reason you go. Ultimately a mission trip is not about the work, it is not about what we do, it is about why we do it. When love and fellowship and showing up for God’s people in another place is our goal, when that rhythm of God’s word is our inspiration, a mission trip will never fail. The reason why mission trips are life-changing and hold so much weight in a person’s faith journey is that they allow us to engage with the rhythm of God. We hear the stories of lives changed, but I can guarantee there was a fight on the mission trip or something went totally wrong, but that is not what is remembered when people commit themselves to the rhythm of God. “And they devoted themselves to one another.” We don’t hear about the arguments. “They read and learned.” Wwe don’t hear about the lazy mornings and days when procrastination won. “They had glad and generous hearts.” We don’t hear about the regret-filled selfish moments. And I want you to hear these April 26, 2020
The Rev. Dr. John Judson Listen Watch Print Version Genesis 1:26-31; 1 Peter 1:10-16 She was twenty-two years old and she had lost her purpose for living. For some of us who are a bit older, this might seem like an exaggeration, yet it wasn’t. Kelsea had been a Peace Corps Volunteer in the Dominican Republic. She had been working in a school improvement program and was just about to help them install their first hand washing station. The station was intended to help improve the hygiene of the children in the school and in the local community. Then came the email, followed almost immediately by a phone call, telling her that she needed to pack up immediately and make her way to the capital for a flight home. The U.S. government, for the first time in history, was bringing home all of the more than 7,000 volunteers from 60 countries. The coronavirus was spreading and the last thing that the leadership wanted was for some of its volunteers to become infected overseas, or to get caught in-country when all travel was shut down. For someone like Kelsea, it was as if everything she had ever dreamed of being and doing had been taken away from her. She had lost her purpose. And she is not alone. I say this because in times of disruption, people often lose their purpose. In fact, the question, what is my purpose is probably the question I have been asked more times than any other question. It is asked of me when people retire, when the children leave home, when a loved one dies, when someone loses a job, when a marriage comes apart; or when people are stuck at home disconnected from family, friends, jobs, volunteer opportunities or simply our regular routine. It is asked in those moments when everything we thought was secure turns out not to be so. It may be that many of you watching this morning, caught in the covid-19 shelter in place world, are finding yourselves asking about your purpose. If this is where you are, or if you have asked this question, then Peter is here to help. He is here to help because in this part of his letter, Peter is offering new believers a crash course in discovering their purpose, because they too were feeling disconnected and disoriented. I say this because the early Christians to whom Peter is writing are Gentiles, whose purpose had been clearly defined for them from birth. It was to obey the Emperor and sacrifice to the gods. Those two actions bound all Romans together and gave their lives purpose. But when they became followers of Jesus, they were disconnected from those purposes and were struggling to find a new one. And Peter tells them that their purpose is to be holy even as God is holy. According to Peter the purpose of every Jesus follower is to be holy as God is holy. For many of us, this is a very disquieting purpose statement. It is disquieting because over the years, being holy has gotten some bad press. Holiness has been portrayed as a legalistic, fundamentalist, intolerant, rigid manner of life. Composed of all sorts of rules that stifle human flourishing and restrict one’s enjoyment of life. This understanding of holiness, which is one I once leaned toward, is, in my opinion, misguided and simply wrong. So what is holiness? I believe holiness is nothing more and nothing less than reflecting the character of God out into the world. My understanding is based on the opening chapter of Genesis where human beings are created in the image of God. In Hebrew, the image of God is the person who represents the king in a foreign land. These persons are to act just like the king would act. So we are to reflect God’s character out into the world. And so if God is loving, gracious, forgiving, compassionate, long suffering and desirous of healing the world, then that is what we are to reflect. Holiness then, is representing God to the world around us. Realizing that this purpose can be an overwhelming task, Peter offers us a process for living our purpose. Peter begins by calling us to passionately prepare for our purpose. Peter writes, “Therefore prepare your minds for action.” The image he offers us is of an athlete preparing for a race. What a Jewish athlete would do in the first century was to take the bottom of the long robe, pull it up and tuck it between their legs and then tie it with their rope belt. This would allow them to run freely. A more modern image would be of a sprinter preparing for a race. They set their blocks, crouch into position and tense their muscles. They are ready to launch. What these images imply is that we need to be intentional about preparing for our purpose. Peter wants us to understand that this purpose is not something we wander into, or take lightly. Being holy is in fact a great responsibility; to be those who reflect God’s love, grace and forgiveness into the world. We must prepare because our response will define who we are and shape our future as those who have the potential to change the world by reflecting God’s character into the world. Peter continues by calling us to passionately pursue our purpose. Peter puts it this way, “discipline yourselves.” The image is of someone staying the course; of a runner on a track staying centered in their lane, as they run, not veering one way or the other. I say this because the Greek word for discipline means to be sober, not inebriated. In other words someone who is sober is capable of walking a straight line rather than wandering off course. The implication is that of a laser like focus on reflecting God’s character into the world. This is critical to us living our purpose because along the route of our “race” there will be those who call out to us, offering us other purposes which they claim are more important than holiness. Perhaps it will be wealth, power or fame or something else. But voices will call to us, hoping we will leave the lane and join them. This is why we are to be passionate about pursuing our purpose…so we can continue to show God’s character to the world. Finally Peter calls us to passionately persevere in our purpose. Peter puts it this way, “Set all your hope on the grace that Jesus Christ will bring you when he is revealed.” Peter is showing us the finish line; our ultimate encounter with the love and grace of God in Jesus Christ. What this image tells us is that the race is not going to be a sprint, but a marathon. Peter understands that practicing our purpose of reflecting God into the world is difficult. As a less than perfect people, we easily forget our purpose and wander away. These lapses can be discouraging; yet Peter reminds us that we are not to give up or be discouraged. Last week we talked about Jesus as the living hope; the one who reveals himself in his ongoing presence of life and love within us. As such we get to experience God's presence and power. Peter wants us to understand that even if we fall short, even if we are less than perfect in living our purpose, it is ok because what awaits us is the grace of God in Jesus Christ; what awaits us is the love and life of Jesus fully revealed. So we persevere. The day my mother dreaded had arrived. My father was going to retire. He had spent 35 years working for Chevron Oil Company and he loved almost every minute of it, which my mother said was a great gift. Her fear, and my fear, was that my father would be lost without work; that he would have no purpose in life. What we discovered was that he had no trouble finding things to do. He took up being the family genealogist, even writing his own software. Then he became my mother’s caretaker through some difficult health issues. Then after her death he became a faithful choir member and money counter at the church, as well as a math tutor at the local elementary school. It seemed as if he continued to find purpose. But it was only after his death this past week that I realized that he had fooled us all, that he had always had purpose and it was not his work, or family or hobbies. His purpose had always been reflecting God into the world. When dad retired, people talked about how he had been the best boss; fair, supportive and encouraging. My cousins surprised my brothers and I when they said that he was their favorite uncle, because he deeply cared about them and their families. Church friends and choir buddies emailed to tell us of the acts of kindness and friendship he had shown. My dad got it. He knew his purpose, practiced his purpose, and persevered in his purpose with hope throughout his life. No, my father was not perfect, but he knew his purpose. My prayer this morning is that we will do the same. That we will live into this amazing purpose of reflecting God into the world, so that when each of our days are over, and the grace of Jesus is revealed to us, we will know that the world is better because we knew and lived our purpose of being holy even as God is holy. April 19, 2020
The Rev. Dr. John Judson Listen Watch Print Version Isaiah 9:1-7; 1 Peter 1:3-9 I want to begin this morning with a quiz. And the quiz has a single question, which is, what do the Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, the Matrix and the original Star Wars trilogy have in common? I’ll give you a few seconds to think about that. Those of you on Facebook can send in your responses. I realize that there are probably a number of answers, but, the answer I am looking for, is that they are each based on the archetype of the chosen one; the chosen one who will face off against the great evil, give the people hope and then defeat the forces that oppress the world. Frodo Baggins, is mysteriously chosen by the ring to bring hope to Middle Earth. Luke Skywalker is chosen by the Force to bring order and justice to the universe. Harry Potter is chosen by fate I suppose, to defeat Lord Voldemort. And Neo in the Matrix is seen as the one who was to come. In many ways I believe that this myth is one of the reasons for their popularity because people are always looking for hope; hope in the midst of difficult and trying times. Lest we think that this myth is something new, it isn’t. It is as ancient as our story out of the prophet Isaiah. Let’s set the scene then for this text. The nation of Judah was in need of hope. The great Empire of Assyria, an empire as brutal as anything conceived of in works of fiction, was moving across the landscape of the near East. It was destroying and annihilating any nation that stood in its way. For those who surrendered, they were brutally taxed and oppressed. The people of Judah watched helplessly as their neighboring states, though banding together were crushed. Would that be the fate of the people of God? Would that be the fate of those whom God had called and convenented with? Was there any hope? The answer from Isaiah was no, they were not forgotten and yes, there was hope. There was hope because there was a chosen one whom God had called. Listen again. “The people who walked in deep darkness have seen a great light…the rod of their oppressor you have broken as on the day of Midian…For a child has been born to us, a son has been given to us… his authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace.” The chosen one has been born, so have hope. It was a moment of hope, but ultimately one that proved to be short-lived. Yes, the Assyrians did not conquer Judah then, but Hezekiah’s son, Manasseh, allied himself with the Assyrians and worshipped their Gods. Later Judah was conquered and oppressed by Babylon, Greece, Egypt and Rome. Once again then by the time of Jesus and Peter, people were again asking, Is there any hope? When will the chosen one arrive? The answer for Peter and the early church was yes, there is hope and the chosen one is already here. We can see this response in the opening to Peter’s first letter. His language makes it clear that the people can have hope because the chosen one has arrived and has already won the victory over the powers and principalities of the world. Listen again,“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By his great mercy he has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefined and unfading…”. Let’s unpack this. First the church, and the world have been born again. I need to be clear at this point that what Peter is talking about is not some individual experience here. Instead he is declaring that the old era has passed away and the new era has begun. This belief in two eras, one of the world and the other of God, is part of Jewish theology. Peter believes that in Jesus being raised from the dead, the old era is gone and the new one has been initiated. Thus we have experienced a new birth. And not only that, but this new era would last forever. It would last forever because unlike the Jewish kingdoms of old, it could not be defeated by force of arms, meaning it is imperishable. It cannot be made unclean like Judah was under Manasseh, meaning it will be undefiled. Finally it will not fade away over time, as did the Kingdom of Judah, meaning it is unfading. In other words this new era is here to stay. Second Peter tells his readers that they have been given a living hope…notice present tense. This is not a hope for something that will happen, but it is a hope that is existing in the present, because Jesus is in the present. Jesus is not a was, Jesus is an is. So Jesus is the hope, the living hope. And this is an amazing declaration. First it is amazing because Peter is saying that this itinerant, apocalyptic, wonderworking, miracle offering, always forgiving Galilean, named Jesus, is the chosen one of God, and through his death and resurrection a new era, a new creation, has arrived and that this risen Jesus is still present offering hope to the hopeless. But there is a second reason this is an amazing claim, and that is, that nothing appeared to have changed. What I mean by this is that Rome was still in charge. The minions of Rome still ruled and taxed the people. There was still disease and death and persecution. If Jesus were the chosen one, what had actually changed? How could the church say, yes he is the living hope and there has been a new birth of a new era? And we might ask the same thing. After all, we are only 20 years removed from one of the most brutal centuries in the history of humanity. In the 20th century more than 170 million people were killed either directly or indirectly from war and political oppression. Millions more died from the Spanish flu. Even now, with our amazing technology, we are struggling to defeat a new and deadly virus and all around us we see this time being used as a jumping off point for ancient prejudices and a reemergence of racism of all kinds. Granted, Peter tells his readers that they will have to suffer various trials. He acknowledges that life will still be difficult. Life will come with hard times. Even so, how then can he and we affirm that Jesus is the chosen one of God who is giving us, and the world a new hope and a new birth, into this new era of creation? The answer for Peter comes in our experience of the love and life Christ is giving us. He begins with these words. “Although you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now you believe in him and rejoice.” What Peter is appealing to is our experience of the love of the risen Christ. The essence of his proclamation is that we are not merely following the teachings of a great Jewish rabbi, or remembering a life of someone who loved those around him. Instead Peter calls us to remember that we love Jesus; not the idea of Jesus, or a memory of Jesus, but we love the living Jesus, and by extension, we love the living Jesus because he loves us. The Greek word used here for love is the same word Jesus uses when he tells his disciples to love each other as he loves them. This is a word for love that is used to describe ongoing relationships. And by trusting that Jesus is an is and not a was, we can find our living hope in this love that we receive and give. This is also true of the word for believe, which is not about believing that something is true or false, but it is about making a commitment to something or someone. Here Peter says, because we experience the love of Jesus we can commit ourselves to the one who gives us hope. The second reason we know Jesus is our hope comes when Peter tells his readers that they are receiving the very life that Jesus has to offer. This is the meaning of that somewhat cryptic verse nine. This is a verse I never understood fully until now, when I think about it in terms of the whole story of the people of God and not just about getting to heaven. It is the verse when Peter says that we are receiving the outcome of our faith, the salvation of our souls. What the modern evangelical world has done with this phrase is to make it a reference to life after death. That we get to go to heaven. This is not what the phrase means. The soul in Greek and in Judaism, is the breath of God that is within us. It is that life-giving essence that God breathed into the first human beings that animated them and allowed them to be those living in the image of God. What happens when we lose hope is that this breath leaves us. We become depleted and struggle to find the life of God within us. The image here is of God doing heart to heart resuscitation on us. Through the living Jesus, the very life of God, the breath of God is being restored in us and we become capable of living as hope-filled people. We are receiving the life of God. We are living in a time when it would be easy to give up hope; when it would be easy to find ourselves spiritually depleted and run down. When we look at people lining up for food, and maybe we line up for food. When we see hospitals overflowing…and maybe one of our loved ones is in there. When we read of millions applying for unemployment, and maybe we are among them. When we are ready to give up hope, my hope is that you will remember that there is hope because the chosen one is here, and he is not Frodo, or Neo, or Harry or Luke, but he is Jesus, the risen one who is an is, and that in Jesus we are being offered both love and life; love and life that can renew us for our journey in this new age. My challenge to you this morning is this, to spend a few moments each day, in the quiet with the news turned off, and allow yourself to feel, yes feel, the presence of Christ within you. And then allow the love and life to flow. Easter Sunday April 12, 2020
The Rev. Dr. John Judson Listen Watch Print Version Exodus 14:21-27; Matthew 28:1-10 The sanctuary was beautiful. It had white stucco walls and gorgeous stained glass windows. The ceiling was made up of dark oak and the whole thing was tied together with large dark oak beans that spanned from one side of the sanctuary to the other. The hue of the pews blended with all of the dark oak to present a marvelous place in which to worship. The only issue was that it was dark. The lights hanging from the ceiling were contained in very attractive and intricate brass cylinders. And because of the lack of light, I could watch people cluster close together under the dim illumination coming from high above them. As the new pastor of this church I was hesitant to say anything about the lack of light. But after having been there a while I decided it was time. So, at a session meeting, I raised the issue and asked if the church had ever considered changing the lights. At first there was silence, then came the very serious answer. Those lights had been hand made by a member of the church and they were deeply cherished by everyone. Well, I continued, couldn’t we put in brighter bulbs? No, the wiring would not allow it. At that moment I realized I would get nowhere. It reminded me of the old joke about how many Presbyterians does it take to change a light bulb? The answer? Change, what do you mean change? That bulb was given by my grandparents! It was the best bulb we could ever buy in its day. If we wait long enough it just might work again. And who needs light anyway. This was one of those powerful reminders that nine times out of ten people will choose stability over blessing every time. And I say stability over blessing, rather than stability over change, because sometimes change is not better than stability, but blessing always is. Blessing meaning enhancing the life of others, such as bringing more light to the sanctuary. And not only will people choose stability over blessing, they will actively oppose moving from stability to blessing. Any of you who have worked in a corporation, school or been part of a family have probably experienced the opposition that comes when a change, even a really good change, is being proposed. People will either try to sabotage or threaten in order to keep the community from being blessed. In this moment one of those examples is of churches who are still having in person services today because the stability of being together is preferred over the blessing of keeping their people safe from the Coronavirus. And these churches will defy the government in order to have their way. Why this matters this morning, is that this desire to choose stability over blessing forms the back story for both of our lessons. The first has to do with the enslavement of the Hebrew people. The children of God had ended up in Egypt because of a famine. When they arrived they were given a territory in which they could live out their lives as shepherds and essentially bother no one. They were successful and prosperous and through that blessed the Egyptian Kingdom. They added to the GDP of the nation if you will. Over the course of time however, the Egyptians began to see the success of the Hebrews, as a threat to their national identity making them a target for the Egyptian government. The Egyptians feared the Hebrew might one day overwhelm them. So the Egyptians enslaved them. Then the Egyptians moved to extinguish them. Stability for the Egyptians was so important that they were willing to annihilate an entire people group. The Romans were not much different. They too desired stability over blessing. We can see this in the story of Jesus, who was someone who was bringing blessing to Galilee and Judea. Both of these places were hotbeds of revolution and resistance to the Romans. One would think that Jesus’ message of loving and forgiving one’s enemies, paying taxes, and talking about his kingdom not being of this world, would be welcomed by the powers in Jerusalem. That they would have seen this as offering blessing to the people and bringing peace. Yet they didn’t. Any talk of a kingdom and a king other than those authorized by Rome was seen as destabilizing and in need of a severe response. Let me be clear, Jesus was no threat to the Roman Empire. He had no army. He had no massive following. All he had was a rag-tag group of Galilean peasants. But for Rome, that was enough. They executed Jesus as an example to anyone else foolish enough to challenge the stability of Rome. Both of these Empires as Empires often do, chose stability over blessing. What neither of those civilizations understood however, was that God, YHWH, was not a God of stability, but was a God of blessing and just as importantly, would do whatever it took to secure blessing for the world. The Egyptians were the first to learn this. After Pharaoh finally agreed to let God’s people go free, he changed his mind. Chasing after them he had them, cornered against the sea. It was an easy takedown. The best army in the world against a defenseless and frightened group of former slaves. As far as Pharaoh was concerned, order and stability would soon be restored. But then, the unexpected happened. The waters of the sea parted, the Hebrews walked through on dry ground and then when the Egyptian army followed, they were swallowed by the waves. It turns out that the God of the Hebrews was not a god of stability but a god of blessing, meaning that God intervened to use God’s people to bless the entire creation; to bless all the nations, including Egypt. And God would protect them in order for that blessing to become a realty. The same is true with the Romans. When they nailed Jesus to the cross they believed two things. First they believed that they had enhanced the stability of their Empire by ridding themselves of a wanna-be king. Second they believed that by so doing the fear of death would stop anyone from following in his footsteps. Again, they misjudged the God of the universe. This God was not a god of stability, but a god of blessing. This God was one who was going to bless the world by defeating the powers of sin and death in order to make the fullness of blessing available to all of creation. Which is why Easter matters so much. I realize that this may not make a lot of sense. It may not because often what the church has done with Easter is that we have seen it as a one time event that allows us to gain eternal life. And as such what many of us have done with Easter is that we have put it in a box, put it on a shelf in our spiritual closets, only taking it down for memorial services or when we might be facing the end of our lives. In other words, while Easter matters, it only matters in certain moments. But Easter matters all the time. Easter matters because it is the unleashing of God’s blessing of life and life abundant. It is the unleashing of God’s love into the universe so that it can transform lives and families, and communities, and nations and all of creation. Think of Easter as ground zero for the spreading of a virus of blessing. And the only thing standing in the way of the spread is stability, meaning the unwillingness to reach out in love in new ways in new times. Which is why, I will repeat again, I love you all and I love this church. I do so because you all have chosen to be a church of blessing over stability. You have embraced worship on line…not a single criticism of our not meeting together. You have embraced giving online so that we can not only support the church but we can support hungry families in Pontiac. You have embraced calling one another and looking after one another in new and creative ways. You have, as Pastor Bethany said in her sunrise sermon, overwhelmed us with offers of help. You have chosen to make Easter more than a singular event to be boxed up and put away. You have made it a living reality in every day of the week. So what happened with the lights? Well I worked with Ricky who was the the head of the property committee and a licensed electrician, to secretly install halogen lights, tucked tightly to the beams that spanned the sanctuary. Then one Sunday we turned them on before anyone arrived. No one said a thing. We did this two more weeks. Each week we watched as the people began to no longer cluster under the individuals bulbs; as they no longer squinted at their hymnals and bulletins. Then on the third Sunday I asked Ricky to turn off the new lights. People asked why we had turned out the lights. I replied that we had not turned out the lights, but that this was how they had been worshipping for the past 40 years. This is what choosing blessing over stability does. It banishes the darkness and allows new life to flourish. My challenge for you this Easter Sunday is simple, to continue to be those who choose blessing over stability that we might let the virus of God’s blessing spread around the world. Sunrise April 12, 2020
The Rev. Bethany Peerbolte Listen Watch Print Version Luke 24:1-12 An empty tomb. The women left that morning with a task. They expected to find death here but instead found an empty tomb. In some telling of this morning it takes Mary three encounters with this empty tomb before she understands what has happened. The first time she encounters the emptiness with her eyes. She sees the cloths left behind and the once tightly wrapped body gone. She thinks someone must have stolen the body. It’s the only logical explanation for what her eyes are seeing. Someone must have wanted Jesus to be gone so badly they would stoop to robbing a tomb of its occupant. The second time Mary encounters the emptiness with her ears. Two angels meet her at the tomb entrance and tell her Jesus is risen. Her face must have given away her confusion because they try to remind her of lessons Jesus taught about this day. While she remembers the words Jesus said she can not fully hear the conclusions the angels are guiding her towards. The third time Mary encounters the emptiness with her heart. She is crying in the nearby garden and a man comes to comfort her. He asks why she is crying and she bears the grief of her soul to the stranger. When she is finished describing the emptiness she has seen and heard the man say her name, Mary. Her ears know that voice. She looks up and her eyes know that face. She relaxes, her heart knows it is Jesus. She suddenly realizes empty didn’t mean something bad had happened. In fact it was the sign of something great God had done. Mary had a hard time understanding what was happening because emptiness had always been a bad thing. In her experience, empty jars meant no food to eat. Empty wells meant no water to drink. Empty pockets meant no money to purchase what was needed. Emptiness was not something to rejoice over. So when she saw an empty tomb she assumed the worst. What made the most immediate sense were thieves motivated by politics or religion stealing Jesus’ body for their own gain. When she met angels telling her the truth she still could not fathom how this empty tomb was good news. Except that is exactly what it is, this emptiness is God’s great news for the whole world. When Jesus arose that morning, he infused emptiness with possibility. Sins no longer left God’s people empty, forgiveness rushed into the void. The world was no longer empty of an active God instead God was brought near to remain with us. Death no longer had the final say over an empty body, souls were freed to join God in eternal life. Emptiness no longer meant the end, it held the possibility for a new beginning. While thinking about emptiness this week I tried to think of where in our world emptiness was a good thing. Hoping to find how that first Easter morning had inspired us to rethink emptiness, but I had a hard time thinking of something. The only empty thing that brought me immediate joy was to think of an empty laundry hamper, because it means I don’t need to do laundry for awhile. But the realty Mary lived in is still very much our reality. Empty things are not awarded. Empty things are not generally great news. We have all experienced an increase of emptiness these past few weeks. Empty shelves at grocery stores. Empty classrooms. Empty manufacturing plants. Empty churches. Emptiness has caused us a lot of distress but there is a hope even for these times in what happened that morning Mary went to the tomb and found it empty. That Easter morning redefined what empty can mean. I have heard people encouraging others to redefine how they talk about sheltering in place. Instead of thinking we are stuck at home, we can see ourselves as safe at home. This redefining of the situation is what Easter morning did to emptiness. It takes an empty tomb and says, “If Jesus is not here, it does not have to mean his body is stolen, it can mean he is risen and out in the world.” Before Easter the only logical explanation is devious theft, after Easter it means Jesus is resurrected. We can apply this Easter redefinition to all the emptiness in our lives. Empty shelves don’t always mean hoarding. They also mean neighbors taking care of neighbors and communities filling the shelves of food pantries. Empty classrooms can mean teenagers aren’t fighting their natural sleep patterns to get up at 6 am for school. Empty classrooms can mean children learning to live with attention issues aren’t forced to be attentive for 7 hours a day. Empty factories mean businesses were willing to value the health of their workers above potential profits. And empty churches…WOW. Empty churches mean the members are living more fully into their call to bless the world. The things we have seen you all doing is truly astonishing. You have not stepped a foot in the building of the church in three weeks but have been the church in so many creative ways. Usually my job is to find volunteers and support for mission projects but because the church is empty my job has been redefined to fielding calls and making connections for people who are LOOKING to help. It really has been mind boggling. Emptiness after Easter holds so much possibility. My hope for the future of our currently empty church is that we take extra care when we refill the pews. We will need to think about what we go back to and choose some things to be left behind. In our opening I mentioned some of the things Jesus left behind in the empty tomb. Things like fear and shame, old ways and our old selves. Emptiness is also a sign that it was time to move on from something. That first Easter morning changed God’s people and the world forever. It was scary, it was confusing, it was frustrating. But they worked through the redefinition one step at a time. Learning what to take with them, what needed to be left behind and what possibilities had opened up. When it is safe to refill our pews on Sunday mornings our church will need to do the same thing. It will be scary, it will be confusing, it will be frustrating. There may be things we have done that we realize can be left behind. But it will also reaffirm the practices we keep as we relearn why traditions like worshiping together are so powerful. We will be reenergized by the innovations you have all made these past few weeks and continue some of them into our future together. The church hopefully will not be the only thing currently standing empty that gets redefined. There is a lot of work to be done when possibility is unleashed on the world. It may be hard to grasp now because we are still somewhere between good Friday and Easter morning when it comes to the coronavirus. But even that Easter morning is coming. When that happens we will set out with a task to “get back to normal life” and find emptiness in many places of our former lives. In those moments I want you to hear the angels asking “why we are looking for the dead among the living” “why are you focused on getting back to the past when the future has been thrown open.” We can choose to see emptiness or we can see possibility. We can sit in an empty tomb or we can leave behind the old ways and resurrect ourselves and our world into something new. Emptiness after Easter does not mean something terrible has happened, it means possibilities are alive. Jesus is alive, and so are we. April 10, 2020
Rev. Bethany Peerbolte Listen Watch Print Version John 18:1-12, 15-18, 25-32; John 19:1-20, 25-30 In the week leading to Jesus’ death things began to break around him. A jar of precious perfume was broken over Jesus’ head and anointed him. The Passover bread was broken and blessed and shared among friends. A friendship broken as Judas kissed Jesus and turned him over to the soldiers. The adoration of the crowds broke down into cries for his crucifixion. The promise of loyalty broken three times before the rooster crows These cracks left Jesus: Broken – in body and spirit, broken – and crying out in anguish, broken – and far from home, broken – and giving up his life, In front of friends and family and strangers Jesus dies, The veil in the temple breaks. The hold of sin and death on the world breaks The power that oppresses breaks From all life’s broken places we remember this night the lengths Jesus was willing to go to make us whole again. Let us join in prayer: God who created us suffers because of us God who died upon the cross suffers for us God who dwells with us suffers with us And in God’s suffering we find hope God, your suffering brings us salvation Without you the horrors of human suffering would be unbearable Your story of life, death and resurrection gives life meaning Your suffering frees us from our prisons Because of your suffering a new world is breaking into ours May we live this day in the knowledge of your pain May we live this day in the assurance of your love May we live this day in the hope of the resurrection. Amen April 9, 2020
The Rev. John Judson Listen Watch Print Version Matthew 26:17-30 He zipped right across the street. He was in motion and nothing was going to slow him down. He was about six or seven years old and cruising on his bike. Behind him were his dad and little sister in a stroller. As the boy rode across the street, I heard his father call out, “Did you slow down and look both ways before you crossed?” The immediate answer was, “Yes Dad.” Now I had been watching this whole thing, including the boy crossing the street without turning his head or his eyes one way or the other, meaning, no, he had not looked either way and had not slowed down. So why the lie? Perhaps because that’s what most of us do at one time or another when asked a question whose true answer would bust us for not doing what we were supposed to do. I often did this when my mother would ask me if I had cleaned my room. The immediate answer would be yes, then I would hurry to my room to actually clean up before she got there to check. In fact in some cultures it is considered impolite to tell an answer in the negative, even when the negative is the truth, such as, “Can you have this done by the end of the day?” and the answer will always be, “Yes” even if it is impossible. So I have to say this is the excuse I always wanted to make for Judas, that when he, along with the rest of the disciples asked Jesus, “It’s not me is it,” he was simply doing what we all do. Yet the longer I have lived with this story, the less I want to offer him an excuse. In fact, I have come to believe that Judas, rather than simply replying as we all do, was mocking Jesus. That if we could hear what was going on inside Judas’ head, we would have heard something like this. “Jesus, I’ve got you now. You never brought in the kingdom. You never got rid of the Romans. You never made me rich, or famous or powerful. And so now I am getting the wealth I deserve, and you are getting the punishment you deserve. I’m glad you’re going down and I am glad to be part of it. So Jesus I’ve got you now.” And I think that Jesus knew this. I think Jesus understood that Judas had betrayed him and was still not surprised by Judas’ answer. So what does Jesus do? Does he confront Judas? Does he tell the others that Judas is the betrayer? No, he doesn’t. All he does is invite him to have dinner. All he does is share this last meal with the one who betrayed him. This response should come as no surprise to us for two reasons. First it should not because the Passover meal was a commemoration of the initiating event of the Exodus; the freeing of God’s people from slavery. And for those who know the story, the people God freed from slavery. The people God fed with manna. The people to whom God miraculously offered water from a rock…they betrayed God. The first chance they got they created a golden calf that was to become their god. Yet, God did not abandon them. Instead God fed them, led them and gave them a land flowing with milk and honey. Chances are while God was hurt by their betrayal, God was somehow not surprised. In the same way, Jesus knew that the betrayal was coming, and not only from Judas, but from all the disciples. They would all run away. They would all pretend they did not know him. Peter would in one of the great betrayals of history, deny Jesus three times. So Judas was not alone in his betrayal. They were all in on it. Yet Jesus still invited them to the table. Jesus still gave his life for them. Jesus still loved them in spite of what they were about to do. My friends, this is one of the amazing things about Jesus and about this table. It is that Jesus invites all to come and feast. Jesus does not invite only those who are perfect or nearly so. Jesus does not invite only those who have never betrayed him by saying or doing something of which he would not approve. No, Jesus invites all of us. Jesus invites us to come regardless of what we have done or not done; regardless of our flaws or failings; regardless of our past, present, or future. Jesus invites us to this table where all are welcome and where all are invited to eat and drink, to be fed and refreshed. I once had one of my good friends not come to the table because she thought she was not worthy…and so I told her this is not how it works. It works like that first table, where all of those who were going to betray Jesus were welcomed to eat. And so in a few minutes I hope you will all come…come to the table where all eat. April 5, 2020
The Rev. Bethany Peerbolte Listen Watch Print Version Ecclesiastes 3:1-8; John 12:27-36 We started today’s readings with a poem from Ecclesiastes. The section Pastor John read has a few verses of Hebrew poetry that many of us have heard before about all things having a season. Hebrew poetry, like all poetry, has its own rules that when you know them you are able to see the deeper meaning in these few lines. These rules help clue readers into rhythms that are intended to draw attention to details and help us truly understand the text. They help create the image the writer wants the reader to draw in their mind's eye. Since many of us are not native Hebrew speakers the clues in these rules may slip past us and we might not make the right picture when we hear these verses, so I want us to look a little closer at a few things. In the verses, we can all hear the pairs, a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to pluck up what is planted. If you were looking at the poem these pairs would be emphasized even more because they are all given their own line. A time to kill and a time to heal, next line, a time to break down and a time to build up. The writer wants us to see the structure forming so we can draw lines of meaning between these things. Another rule that the writer follows is to make comparisons. The pairs are Birth and death. Planting and harvesting. These are opposites which creates a continuum. If these things were set on a line one would be on the far right and one would be on the far left. So we can hear the writer telling us that there is literally a time for EVERY thing under the sun from one end of the line to the other. There is a time for both ends and everything in between. If the writer is drawing a straight line there should be some designation as to which end is which. Which way the writer wants us to travel along this line between these things. From the good end to the bad or vice versa for example. In traditional Hebrew poetry if the writer wants you to prefer one thing and designate it as good over the other they will put the “better” option second so it is fresher in your mind. But our verses today start with a time to be born and a time to die. The second thing mentioned is death, which does not seem like the more desirable of the pair. Surely the writer is not saying death is better than birth. Anyone who has experienced both things will choose birth over death. So maybe this writer has a reason to break the traditional rule. Poets sometimes do break rules to draw extra attention to the preference they are trying to make. They break the rule to throw off an audience and make us pay attention to the reality they want us to see clearly. So maybe this writer is flipping the pattern on purpose. If that is the case we would expect all the preferred items to be first and the lesser preference to be second. Since birth comes first in its pair we assume everything that comes first should be the writer's preferred state. This works for some of the pairs, plant, seek, and keep all come first. However, not everything we would think of as preferred comes first. Kill comes first too. Break down, weep, and mourn all come first in their pairs. There is no seeable pattern to set up the preference to which side of the spectrum we should be going towards. By presenting these pairs in a random order the writer takes the two ends of the line spectrum that we thought we were on and connects them to make a circle. We are not on a line spectrum moving towards or away from good or bad things. We are on the line of a circle with no beginning no end no hierarchy. This randomness of the pairs tells us that the writer is not making a moral judgement on these things at all. There is no preference. What is being said is that this is simply the reality of human experience. Some things happen that are preferred and some things happen that are not. This equalizing of emotion reminded me of a poster that was on the wall of my AP psych class in high school. The poster was titled “Wheel of Emotion” it had three concentric circles with spokes cutting through the circles. In the very center were the six basic emotions. Sad, fear, disgust, happy, anger, and surprise. If you have seen the movie inside out 5 of these were turned into characters and they controlled each person’s brain. Disney Pixar got that straight from psych 101. But we all know emotions get more complicated than just these six. The next circle in the poster breaks each basic emotion into 4-6 more specific emotions. Happy becomes optimistic, peaceful, or interested. Anger becomes hurt, distant, or hateful. Sad becomes guilty, depressed, or bored. Then the third circle breaks them down even more. Guilty is ashamed or remorseful. Optimistic becomes inspired or open. Hateful is violated or resentful. And we suddenly go from 6 emotions to 72. 72 very specific emotions. Remorseful to indifferent, all in the sad spoke. Sarcastic to embarrassed, all in the anger spoke. Inspired to liberated, all in the happy spoke. These verses reminded me of the poster because the wheel layout makes it so that no emotion is better than another. They all sit together like king Arthur’s knights of the round table. No one is at the head and no one is opposite of the other. Not even happy and sad are opposite, they are just different seasons in a person’s life. This is what the wheel of emotion conveys and what the writer of Ecclesiastes is telling us in the structure of the poem. There is no wrong emotion, or bad emotion. They are all equal, and they all have their season to be felt. No season is better or worse than the other. The reality this writer wants us to see is Happiness is not better than sadness. Surprise is not better than disgust. Weeping and laughing are equal in their importance. Sure we may want to be in seasons of laughter more than weeping but if all we ever do is laugh it’s going to be unhealthy for us. We need to cry when the season to cry comes, not rush back to laughter, and ignore the new season. The writer wants us to EXPERIENCE these seasons, and I say that with open arms because I mean experience our emotions. Not just to be able to say them out loud but to notice what is happening in our hearts and minds and body when we feel. What does anger do to a body? My heart races, my vision goes blurry, I can’t formulate the sentences I want to and I can’t process incoming information very well. What does surprise do to a body? Well a lot of the same things anger does which is why it is so important to feel and understand what we are feeling when we are in the season of an emotion so we can better decipher if this is anger or surprise. We have all probably seen videos where someone jumps out to scare someone else. How many times does a person get punched when someone is feeling surprised? Punching is normally an anger response but sometimes it comes out as a surprise response. So emotions can feel like other emotions. Taking time to sit in the season with the emotion helps us know ourselves better and helps us process through what we are actually feeling at the core emotion. Grief is an emotion that pretends to be all these other emotions. When we grieve, we can act angry, happy, sad, disgusted. That is why it can be so hard to realize we are grieving. That is why it can take so long to process grief, because a lot of the time we literally have no idea what root emotion is causing our behavior to fluctuate too much. Emotions are complicated, but they deserve their season. I find a lot of comfort in thinking about emotions being in seasons. As someone who has spent her whole life in Michigan I love our changing seasons. I tend to love them more around this time of year because I do have a preference and my favorite season is coming soon. It gets harder to like the changing seasons in September as I prepare for a season of winter. But even in winter I try to experience what I can of it. I take the time to find the good things. The way snow sticks to trees after a wet snow fall. Or the way icicles reflect the light after a deep freeze, and who can complain about a snow day. Even my least favorite season has its benefits. I also spend a fair amount of time acknowledging the bad things too. Scrapping a car is awful. Bundling up to go trick or treating and covering my whole costume is infuriating. There are things I hate about winter but they deserve to be experienced because they are all part of the season. If I tried to go through winter happy and finding the silver lining, I would be exhausted because I would be fighting my truth. It would get harder and harder to function because I would be spending all my energy finding something positive to say. It’s okay to just feel miserable. Every season has it’s benefits and its disadvantages. I have to stay open to both to really live in that season. Our emotions are valuable tools for understanding our health. Physical, mental, and spiritual. If we fight them and try to “be fine” the whole time we aren’t honoring the season. I spent this last week calling people on my phone to see how they were. Not a single person said “Good. How are you?” They all gave me a real answer! They knew I didn’t expect them to be good so they gave me the truth. Most of them were “good” but we got to talk about the ups and downs and experience this season more fully because we allowed each other to truly experience it. These past few weeks have sent me around that wheel of emotion multiple times. Jumping from hope to despair, from disgust to pride, from avoidance to helplessness. Should I find more silver linings? Can I complain about my time at home when my friends have three year olds destroying their homes daily? Is it okay to feel happy that no one in my inner circle is sick yet? All this whirling around me until I finally just asked God to tell me how I should feel. The answer I got was “yes.” Yes you should feel hopeful and yes you should feel despair. Whatever you are feeling is right. It is the exact right feeling to be having for the time we are living in. It is okay to be happy all your plans were cancelled. It is okay to feel angry that people aren’t taking this more seriously. It is okay to be relieved the family vacation was cancelled. It is okay to be proud of your neighbors. It is okay to be distressed you won’t see your favorite teacher again. It is okay to feel bored. Every emotion is worth feeling for its season. There is one other element of this poem I want us to look at. I think it really drives home why it is so important to honor what you are feeling in the season it arises. The randomized structure of this poem also shows us that we do not know what season is coming next. We are not heading towards something worse and we aren’t heading towards something better. What we are heading towards is something different. We simply do not know what season is ahead of us. There is no pattern. This makes it doubly important to feel what we are feeling now because what we have now is just for now. Emotions get dangerous when they aren’t given their season. When we try to skip past them or spin the wheel for another option. When we force ourselves into another season the original emotion is left to fester in the corners of our being. But when we give each emotion its rightful time there is a promise in these scriptures that the season will change. Even grief will change and become something different. It may always be with you is some form but it will change. We need to feel what we feel now because this may be the only time we feel this way. It may be the only time to learn what this feels like, to learn what the benefits of this season are and to learn what the downsides too. Whatever is coming next will be its own season. Jesus understood this on his ride into Jerusalem. Many people point out that Jesus does not seem particularly happy during this festival. There is no grand speech to address the adoring crowd or actions that suggest his enjoyment. In fact, we hear very little about Jesus’ feelings about the festival. He simply is not feeling joyful and does not fake it for the crowd. He lets them be joyful, he isn’t a downer on their parade, but he doesn’t put on an act for them either. I’ll bet that was very comforting to the person who was also not feeling joyful at the parade either. Sometimes holidays just don’t feel like they should. I can almost guarantee this Easter is going to feel different. But just because this season is going to be different doesn’t mean it is bad. For your introverted friend this may be their favorite Easter of all time. It may become yours because the image of being resurrected from a tomb and coming out alive will hit just a little closer to home this year. It may also be awful. But whatever it ends up being, feel it and be honest about it, because it is only just for a season. When we are honest about our emotions people will feel more comfortable in their own emotional experience around us. Our openness and honesty frees others from the shame of what our world calls “bad” emotions. And we can offer to others the same promise scripture offers us, that this is just for a season. March 29, 2020
The Rev. Dr. John Judson Listen Watch Print Version Psalm 23 (The Message); 2 Corinthians 4:7-12 It overwhelmed me. It knocked my feet out from under me and swept me under. The wave had come out of nowhere and I had lost all sense of which way was up or down. This wouldn’t have been so bad, except I was holding our two-year old daughter in one of my arms and the undertow was ripping her out of my arms. In stark terror I struggled to hold on. Our family had gone down to the beach in Texas with our youth group to enjoy a few days of surf, sand and group building. Our daughter loved the waves and the water. She would get into the surf and giggle and run away. But most of all she loved having me hold her out in the surf and have me dip her in and out of the waves. On this particular day, the waves were strong but nothing out of the ordinary. I had spent many days of my youth at Texas’ beaches without any issue. But then that wave came. I had never, and have never, experienced anything like it. It totally and completely overwhelmed me. As I felt Katie slipping from my grip I was terrified in a way I never had been before or have been since. It was a moment that is seared into my memory. This morning I have to wonder how many of us are feeling the same way…overwhelmed. I know that I feel overwhelmed, as if my feet have been swept out from under me and I sense normal life slipping away. At first, this virus was something coming out of Wuhan China, a place few of us knew anything about. That news was like the gentle waves at Lake Michigan, just kind of lapping at your feet. You knew it was there but it was no big deal. It was easy enough to retreat to the shore and have no ill effects. Then the waves began to increase as we were told no more than 500 people can meet together, then no more than 100 people can meet together, then 50 then 10. Soon restaurants were closed. Then other businesses. Then we were told to shelter in place. The waves were growing in power and frequency. Local hospitals began to be overwhelmed and elective surgeries were postponed. The television and internet were filled with pleas from hospitals, doctors and nurses for masks and face shields. It was as if the wave had hit us and were at risk of being towed under, losing our footing and losing hope. If this is where you are my friends, you are not alone. In fact it places you in the company of almost every great hero of the Bible, including the two we are looking at this morning. We begin with David, who most assume was the writer of the 23rd Psalm. David’s life had begun rather inauspiciously. He was the younger son of a shepherding family in Bethlehem. He was brave enough to protect his family’s sheep from wild animals. We are not exactly sure how he came to the attention of Israel’s first king, Saul. One tradition claims that he came to the king’s attention by using superior military technology to defeat the Philistine giant, Goliath. Another source tells us that David came to Saul’s attention because he was a skilled musician who could comfort the king. Regardless of how he came to the king’s attention he soon became Saul’s most competent general. Unfortunately, people began to say things like, Saul has killed his thousands but David his tens of thousands. Saul became more and more jealous and after trying to kill David with a spear, decided that David had to go. David had to die. Fearing for his life, David fled the palace. He was overwhelmed. He was afraid. His feet had been knocked out from under him and the undertow was about to drown him as Saul and Saul’s troops hunted him. So when David writes, “Even when the way goes through death valley” and “You serve me a six course dinner right in front of my enemies”, he is not merely making a metaphor. He is speaking of those moments when he was overwhelmed with fear and doubt. Paul was overwhelmed as well. I understand that we all carry with us differing views of Paul. Regardless of those views I think that one thing we need to give him credit for was his willingness to travel to new places, meet new people and tell them about the life transforming power of the love of God in Jesus Christ. One of those places was the city of Corinth. Paul had arrived there knowing no one. But through sheer determination he shared the Good News and created a significant community of Jesus followers. The church, even though it had its issues as all churches do, was one of his prides and joys. But then it turned on him. After he left there to move on to Ephesus, new leadership took over the church and made it clear that not only was Paul a loser, but that he was greedy and incompetent. To counteract these views, Paul journeyed back from Ephesus to Corinth, planning to reorient the church, only to be abused and driven out. He was overwhelmed. His feet had been cut out from under him and as soon as he returned to Ephesus he was imprisoned and wondered if he might be executed. So when he writes that he was afflicted, perplexed, persecuted and struck down, he is not making metaphor. He is speaking of the reality of his life. He is speaking about being physically, emotionally and spiritually overwhelmed. Yet somehow, Paul did not give up. Somehow David did not give in. Listen again. “Even when the way goes through Death Valley, I’m not afraid when you walk by my side. Your trusty shepherd’s crook makes me feel secure” “You serve me a six-course dinner right in front of my enemies. You revive my drooping head; my cup brims with blessing.” “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.” They were overwhelmed but not defeated. They were discouraged but not defeated. They were fearful but not defeated. And they were not defeated because they realized that they were not alone. God was with them. David talks about God as his shepherd; the one who guides, leads and protects him. God is the one whose beauty and love chase after David every day of his life. Paul, understands that he is merely a clay jar, a frail human being, but that he carries within him extraordinary power that comes from God. That he carries within him the “death of Jesus” meaning the power and presence of God’s love, forgiveness and new life. These two men were not defeated because they understood and experienced the supernatural power of God, and in Paul’s case, of Jesus Christ within them, beside them before them and behind them. Are you feeling overwhelmed? If so, that is fine. These are overwhelming times. Few if any of us have ever experienced anything like this. Yet at the same time, our task is to not let this crisis defeat us. We should not despair. We should not feel completely lost and alone or allow this crisis to destroy us. And we should not because we are not alone. We don’t go through these times by ourselves. God is present. God is our shepherd guiding us through these dark days. Even when we are home alone, we are not. God is helping us to catch our breath and walks by our side. Christ is present within us, filling us with power so that his own life might be shown in and through who we are; through who we are becoming. We are not alone because we have one another. We have a Jesus community that prays with and for all of us. We have a community that will do what we can to share the love and grace of Christ with one another. Since most of you know that our daughter is soon to be thirty-three years old, it means I did not lose my grip on her in the overwhelming waves and turbulent current. I somehow managed to hold fast to her. This is the image I want you to hold on to for this week. I want you to close your eyes during the reflection time after my sermon and imagine the strong arms of God holding on to you; holding fast to you in this moment in which it is so easy to be overwhelmed. Allow those supernatural arms to embrace you and lift you out of the waters not only on this day but in all days ahead. March 22, 2020
The Rev. Dr. John Judson Listen Watch Print Version Jeremiah 29:4-9; John 21:15-19 What do we do now? That was the question that was running through my head as I sat in my chair at the South Texas Blood Bank in San Antonio. I asked myself that question because on my way to give platelets there had been an announcement on the radio that a small plane had flown into one of the twin towers. By the time I was part-way through my draw another plane had hit the other tower. My chair had a television and I watched in horror as to what was unfolding in New York. It was soon apparent that we had been attacked. In that moment I began to realize that life would never be the same. That the world had radically changed. I began asking myself, “What do we do now?” What do we do now? My guess is that many of us are asking ourselves the same question in this moment? What do we do now that schools are out, parties are outlawed, the normal places where we eat and gather with friends are closed, layoffs have begun, travel is restricted, our friends and family are becoming ill and people around the world are dying? Just as surely as we were attacked on 9-11, we have been attacked again, this time by a tiny virus, only 120 nanometers in size, covered in spikes that allows it to attach itself where we do not want it to be. It is a silent, invisible enemy that traveled around the world unseen and unwelcomed. It did not need a passport or a ticket to travel. It arrived and has led to the infection of tens of thousands and deaths of many. As we stare at a world few could have imagined the question is, what do we do now? This is not a new question. I say this because it forms the back story for both of our morning’s lessons. In the Jeremiah passage, the people who are receiving this message from the prophet are those Jewish leaders who had been taken into exile in Babylon. The situation was as follows: with the defeat of the Assyrian Empire around 600 BCE, the nation of Judah had become a vassal state of Egypt. And for almost ten years Judah was poorly run and heavily taxed. Ultimately Babylonians pushed the Egyptians out of the area we now call the Holy Land. Judah with its capital at Jerusalem, surrendered to Babylon and became its vassal. Not content with this situation, the leaders in Jerusalem rebelled. It was not long before Babylon’s power asserted itself. The Jewish leaders were taken as prisoners into exile. There they asked themselves, what do we do now? What do we do now that we are powerless? Again, that same question was being asked by Jesus’ disciples in our story in John. What is interesting about this story is that the disciples had already seen the risen Jesus. They had watched him be arrested, tried, crucified and then raised. One would think that they should have a clear idea of what they ought to do, but this was not the case. We know this because they had gone back to their old jobs. For Peter and others this meant back to the Sea of Galilee and to fishing, which is where we find them. We might suppose that their attitude was, well it was a great ride with Jesus, and we are glad that we escaped with our lives. So what do we do now? The gift of both passages is that they can help us see what we should do now. But before we allow them to answer that question, we need to allow them to tell us what we will not do now. Let me explain. In both of our stories the assumption of the people involved is that the answer to the question, what do we do now, is we will go back to our old ways of life as if nothing ever happened. For the Jews in exile in Babylon, we know this is the case because of the cryptic words at the end of the reading. Listen again. “Do not let the prophets and the diviners who are among you deceive you, and do not listen to the dreams that they dream, for it is a lie that they are prophesying to you in my name; I did not send them says the Lord.” What is this about? It is about the fact that among the exiles were those claiming that God would immediately destroy Babylon and return God’s people to their old lives; return them back to Jerusalem and the Temple. They were being told that they would return to the good old days. Jeremiah disabuses them of this notion. The world had changed and would not be the same. This is also true for the story out of John. As we saw a moment ago, the disciples had returned to their old ways of life. It was as if they were pretending that their three years with Jesus had been a nice diversion from an otherwise average life. That his life, death and resurrection had been interesting but not life changing. Jesus, however, will have none of that. He understood that the world had been fundamentally changed in his death and resurrection. He understood that life would, and should never be the same, and so when he engages in this conversation with Peter, Jesus is inviting him to leave the old life and to do something different. There is an old saying that you cannot step into the same river twice, meaning that rivers are always changing, always flowing. This is the same for our lives which are ebbing and flowing, such that they will not be the same after the virus has run its course. Just as lives were not the same after 9-11, or after Vietnam and or after the Great Depression and Great Recession, they will not be the same now. Life changed. And it will change for us. I will never look at toilet paper on the shelf of a grocery store and not wonder if I ought to buy it. I will think about people around me and wonder if I ought to have my hand sanitizer with me. For better or worse, life will never be the same. So, what do we do now? The answer is simple. It is at the heart of both of our passages, we bless the world. That’s it. We bless the world. This is what God’s people have been called and tasked to do ever since Abraham and Sarah were asked to leave everything that they knew and loved and travel to a far distant country. We can hear this in the Jeremiah story. “Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.” God’s people, even during the terror and upheaval of exile and loss, were to seek the welfare of the place in which they were taken. They were to remake their lives and remember that God was with them helping them to be a blessing, which they did, for more than two-thousand years. The same can be seen in the John story. Jesus not only tells Peter to feed Jesus’ sheep, meaning to care for all of God’s people, but Peter is to leave his own life and follow. What transpires from that following will be the creation of an inclusive, loving Jesus’s community that will feed the hungry, clothe the naked and welcome all. The followers of Jesus, if you will, were to seek the welfare of the world. So what do we do now? We bless the world. We seek the welfare of the place and the time in which we live. And this is what you all are already doing, which is one reason I am so proud to be your pastor. I say this because so many of you are finding ways to bless the world. You continue to bring in food for families in Pontiac, call friends and family, make cards for shut-ins, do “drive by greetings”, go to local mom and pop restaurants to help keep them open, take meals to friends and leaving them on the doorstep, shop for others, make masks and praying for all of those in need. you get it. You understand what we are to do now. And so this is my challenge to you for this week, to continue seeking ways that you can bless the world and work for the welfare of the community in which God has placed you. |
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