Rev. Dr. John Judson
February 7, 2016 Listen Print Version Exodus 34:29-35, Luke 9:28- 43 I don’t know if you have noticed or not but there are seemingly about 200 people running for president. And they appear willing to do anything to win. They will lie about their opponents. They will stretch the truth in order to make themselves look good. They will cherry pick statistics in order to prove their points. They will ignore facts of any and every kind. They will simply make things up. (Oh and by the way I am not speaking about your candidate, only all of the others). And in the end they will blow like a reed in the wind in order to bend in the direction they think will get them into the White House. My question is though, why do they want it? Why do they want to be president? Oh, sure it looks like a great job. You get to ride around in motorcades, fly on Air Force One, give press conferences and supposedly be the most powerful man on the face of the earth. But in reality it is a somewhat thankless job. People criticize you, demean you, question your every decision, and the popularity fades. And in the end you age. Have you ever taken a look at a picture of a president when he comes into office and then when he leaves? The office ages you. Why would anyone want it? We could ask the same thing of being the messiah. Who would want the job? Oh sure it looks like a great job. You have millions of twitter followers and a billion Facebook friends. You have crowds follow you everywhere and disciples who, at least for a moment, say that they will give their lives for you. And you get to hold summit conferences with the greats of the faith; with Moses the lawgiver; with Elijah the greatest of the prophets. And you get to have God affirm your calling. But in the end you know where it is going to lead…or at least Jesus knew where it was going to lead. It was going to lead him to being deserted. It was going to lead him to arrest. It was going to lead him to trial, and then to being flogged and then to the cross. It would lead him to being totally alone as if God had even left the building. My God, my God why have you forsaken me? Then it would lead to a slow, painful, humiliating death. Who would want this kind of a job? Why would Jesus do this? The answer to this question, interestingly enough can be found not at the top of the mountain, but at the bottom. One of the interesting things about the first three Gospels, Matthew, Luke and John is that they share a core set of stories, yet the stories are seldom told in the same way and in the same order. Each writer carefully crafts stories to make his own particular point and places them in different locations in the overall take they are telling. That is except these two stories. The tale from the mountain top is always followed by the story of the boy who is demon possessed; a boy in fact who is in such a difficult way that not even the disciples can save him. He was lost. He was forever a prisoner of pain and suffering. And into this situation comes Jesus who, even in exasperation, sets the boy free. Jesus drives out the demon, which is why Jesus wanted the job. He wanted the job of messiah because he knew he was the only one who would be able, not only to set this boy free, but to set humanity free; to lead humanity on a new exodus from fear, captivity, pain and death into a new reality. I use the word exodus because Luke uses it. He uses it in verse 31, where in English we read the word “departure”, the Greek says exodus. Jesus at new life. This is why he wanted the job. I realize that both of these stories, Jesus on the mountain and the healing of a demon possessed child, seem a bit Lucas film-like, meaning something we would see on the big screen but not in real life. Yet the reality of our lives is that there are those things that possess us; control us. We are possessed by guilt; by a guilt from which we do not believe we can be forgiven. We are possessed by our own anger; by our inability to forgive and thus give ourselves freedom. We are possessed by our fear of not being successful enough, saving enough or living up to the expectations of others. We are possessed by other fears. We become fearful of the future for ourselves, for our children, for our grandchildren. We worry about them, and about ourselves. We worry about the world and become fearful of what the news brings us. And as long as we are possessed by this things they will rob us of the joy and peace that God wants us to have; the joy and peace for which we were designed. Therefore we are in need of an exodus moment. We are in need of freedom. And it is for that reason that Jesus Christ came into the world, to not only set that boy free, but to set us free; to allow us to experience the fullness of hope, joy, love and peace that can be ours. The challenge then that I lay before you this morning is this, to ask yourselves, how am I allowing Jesus to set me free? To lead me on a new exodus? To allow his joy and peace to become mine? And as you ask, remember, freedom and joy can be yours as surely as it was for that boy. Rev. Dr. John Judson
January 31, 2016 Listen Print Version Jeremiah 4:1-10, Luke 4:14-21 This is the year. We have the players. We have the coaches. We have the plan. We have the determination. We have worked hard in the off-season and we know that this year, we will go all the way. We will win…and you fill in the blank…the Super Bowl, the NCAA football, baseball, basketball, hockey, soccer championship, the NBA title, the World Series…the Little League World Series…the bowling title…ok, so you get the point. So how many of you have either heard or said these words? How many of you have believed them at the beginning of a season? How many of you have ever been disappointed? What is amazing is that we believe these words. We look at last season when our favorite team was in last place and we want to believe that this season is the one in which we will finally get the brass ring…then once again we are crushed. We wear bags over our heads. We yell at the television…or at least I do. But we want to believe, because otherwise, why bother? I offer that image because it appears to be what Jesus is doing in this opening story of the Gospel of Luke. Jesus has been baptized by John, resisted temptation in the wilderness, done a little preaching in the minor leagues and gained a reputation as an up and coming prophet. He then returns to his hometown of Nazareth in order to lay out his game plan for his coming ministry. And his plans are pretty ambitious. He has come to bring good news to the poor, release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, set the oppressed free and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. Then he declares that “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” He is claiming victory before the season has even begun. And the people believe him. In the face of all odds, the people believe him. They believe him even though for most of the past five-hundred years none of those things had happened. If you want to think of it in sports terms, they had been waiting longer for this liberation than have Cubs fans for a World Series. The question for us this morning then is, how well did Jesus and then the church carry out his game plan? At first our answer would be, pretty well. As Luke tells the story in his Gospel, we see Jesus carrying out his game plan. He sets people free from fear, pain, disease and death. He gives sight to the blind. He feeds the hungry. And people respond. A grass roots movement grows up around him and the crowds become so large that he cannot enter any town without creating major congestion. Granted, all of this will lead to his arrest, trial and crucifixion, yet when God raises him from the dead it appears as if the ministry he began would continue. The Book of Acts tells stories of the disciples creating a community in which everyone had enough to eat and a place to live; where there was love, grace and acceptance; where people were healed and lives renewed; where all persons, Jew, Greek, slave, free, male and female were welcomed and included. If the story had ended there, it would have appeared that Jesus game plan worked. Yet we know that the story of the church and the world did not end at the end of Acts. Over the next several months my articles in First Things will take us through the history of the church. What we will discover along the way is that the church quickly moved from this loving Acts community to an organization with a hierarchy and a desire for power. Once it was legalized under Constantine it used all of its resources to gain both religious power, meaning the destruction of old pagan worship, and political power, meaning attempting to control the secular authorities. Along the way it excommunicated people, executed people, tortured people, authorized Crusades that killed tens of thousands, conducted pogroms against Jews, diminished the role of women, and actually conducted war in the name of the Pope. Even after the Reformation, the Lutheran and Reformed, including Presbyterian, engaged in wars lasting more than one-hundred years, virtually destroying Europe. Here in America the Puritans and Anglicans persecuted Baptists, Mennonites and Quakers. And the Southern Presbyterian Church defended slavery and segregation. It was as if the game plan that Jesus laid out at the beginning of his ministry had been completely lost and replaced with a game plan of power and prejudice. And these game plans have two serious consequences. First the world is worse shape because of it. When the church, the body of Christ forgets its mission, its game plan, the world suffers. People go hungry and uneducated. People live in substandard housing. People of color are incarcerated at levels far beyond other populations. Payday lenders are allowed to prey on the most vulnerable by charging almost unlimited interest rates. Refugees are looked upon with scorn rather than compassion. The world is a poorer place. Second, people don’t like the church; don’t want to be part of the church. Millennials, those in the 25 to 35 age range, believe the church to be racist, anti-gay, anti-woman, self-centered and unconcerned about the poor. The church is only about money and political power. Half of all millennials, and a third of boomers and builders, those over 50, sees the church in a negative light. If we are willing to look and listen, these realities should tell us something about what happens when the church forgets its game-plan; the game plan of Jesus that inspired a movement that began to change the world. But there is hope, there are bright spots in the church world. There is Pope Francis calling on the church to shed its ostentatious ways, return to serving the poor and to become more welcoming. It is the Presbyterian Church becoming a welcoming and affirming church for all people. It is our presbytery finally beginning the conversation on race in Detroit. And there is this church, First Presbyterian Church of Birmingham, which has chosen to pick up Jesus’ game plan and run with it. Last week was our annual meeting, and (for those of you who weren’t there you can pick up a paper copy of our annual report, view it on line and watch the video) we looked back at all that we had accomplished in 2015 in the context of mission, inclusion and community. But this morning I want us to see ourselves, both individually and collectively, through the lens of Jesus’ game plan. We bring good news to the poor by feeding hungry children and families, by welcoming into our church through SOS, by building a school in Mexico and soon two more in Kenya. We proclaim release to the captives and set the prisoner free by working to educate students at Alcott Elementary, because a lack of education means a higher likelihood of people living their entire lives in poverty and often entering the pipeline to prison. We offer recovery of sight to the blind by supporting medical missions in Mexico and others of us in organizations that work to prevent blindness around the world. We proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor by being a welcoming and affirming place for all people regardless of race, religion, sexual orientation, gender or income, as well as assisting people in immediate need through the deacon’s fund. In other words, I believe that we are a bright spot for the church and the world. Now, before we become sore patting ourselves on the back, we need to realize that Jesus’ game plan calls us to do more, to be more. And let me be clear at this point, all that we do in and through this church is because we are followers of Jesus Christ, and not simply because we are a do-good, organization. We do it because Jesus Christ, in his first great sermon in Nazareth, called upon his followers to follow his lead, to take up his call and to live into the reality that in Jesus Christ it is possible to change the world because the power to do so comes from him; he has accomplished it. My challenge to you and to us, this morning then is this, to ask ourselves, how am I living out the game plan that Jesus offers? How am I part of the team, here in this church and other teams in the world that preach good news to the poor, proclaim release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, let the oppressed go free and proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor? Rev. Amy Morgan
January 17, 2016 Listen Print Version Isaiah 62:1-5, John 2:1-11 The party was dying. We had invited about 25 people over to our house to enjoy a delicious, 18 pound smoked brisket. My husband, Jason, had been up since four in the morning babysitting this hunk of meat, and we’d gathered together friends and neighbors and people we barely knew so that we would have enough folks to eat this enormous feast of smoked goodness. Jason had told everyone to be there around 6 o’clock and to bring a side dish. People mingled and chatted for several hours while we waited for the meat to finish cooking to perfection. But by 8:30, the party was clearly dying. People were hungry. Kids were tired. And I had nothing to feed them. Finally, someone kindly suggested we break into the side dishes. And some hot dogs turned up out of somewhere and we threw them on the grill. And, loaves and fishes style, there was somehow enough food to go around. The party was saved. And the brisket came off the grill at 10:30 that night. Which is why I truly sympathize with the hosts of this wedding party in the gospel of John and truly appreciate the miracle Jesus performed there. A proper Jewish wedding feast was supposed to last seven days. And horror of horrors, the host had run out of wine before the festivities were supposed to be over. This would have been the very height of hospitality failure, a major embarrassment with serious social consequences. And the mother of Jesus, as she is known in the Gospel of John, seems to think Jesus can do something to help. You know, I always wonder about what Jesus’ mother thought, all that pondering in her heart, concerning what Jesus was capable of doing, what it meant for him to be the Son of God. There are some interesting non-Biblical texts that tell stories of Jesus as a child performing some rather exotic miracles. But according to John’s gospel, this water-into-wine episode is the first of Jesus’ signs or miracles. And it comes at the urging of this mother, who somehow knew this type of thing was in his wheelhouse. Now, like much of the Gospel of John, this story is saturated with symbolic meaning. First, we’re told that this happened on the third day. One the one hand, we could hear this simply as chronological storytelling. The gospel says that on the first day of his ministry, Jesus called his first disciples. On the second day, he called Phillip and Nathaniel to follow him. And here we are on the third day. But knowing how John’s gospel is constructed, I’m more inclined to think we are supposed to draw the obvious parallel to the other “third day” in the larger narrative. Not only did Jesus resurrect a dying wedding party on this third day, he is inaugurating the resurrection of a whole people, the Jewish people, who were like empty jars, waiting to be filled to overflowing with that which makes for joy and celebration. These people were dried up from centuries of exile and oppression, occupation and subjugation. Prophets like Isaiah had talked about God’s love and desire for Israel in terms of great endearment, as we heard in today’s first reading. God rejoices in Israel and calls for celebration and praise, singing and dancing and feasting. This is what Jesus gives to the world in this sign. Not jars filled with wine to keep the dizzy crowd drunk and rowdy. But rather a faith overflowing with joy and goodness. But as is also often the case in the gospel of John, not everybody in this story gets it. John’s gospel is full of mystery. There are many episodes where people are left scratching their heads at what Jesus says and does. But there are always a few who understand. In this story, there is the steward who assumes the fine wine came from some hidden reserves of the host. He’s puzzled that the host would have saved the best wine for last, when the guests are too far gone to appreciate it. The sign, the miracle, the resurrection is lost on him. Then there are the guests themselves, who we imagine happily guzzle down this miraculous gift without a clue as to its divine origins. The party went on for the prescribed seven days, and everyone went home, unchanged. Imagine drinking wine that had been miraculously transformed from water by Jesus Christ himself, and never knowing it. Imagine perhaps even getting drunk and foolish on that wine, and never knowing the difference. What a waste! But then there are the disciples, who have been following Jesus only a day or two. They don’t really know who he is or even why they’re following him. John the Baptist declared him to be “the Lamb of God,” whatever that means. Andrew said he is the Messiah, but what does he know? Mostly, Jesus just says, “follow me,” and “come and see.” Except for his revelation to Nathanael that he has some kind of time and space warp vision that allowed him to see Nathanael sitting under a fig tree. But that’s what it took to convince Nathanael that something good could come out of Nazareth. Jesus promised Nathanael would see greater things that that, and he delivers in this sign of turning water into wine. The disciples know the source of the gift, the fine wine. They get to really see and experience the miracle. And because of that, they believe in Jesus. They are filled to overflowing like the jars of wine, they get a glimpse of the resurrection joy to come. But why are the disciples privileged to witness this miracle and not any of the other guests? Well, the disciples, unlike the average wedding guest, were following Jesus. They were hanging out around him. Watching his every move. They were expecting something to happen. They were looking for a sign. And they got what they were looking for. Finally, there are the servants in this story. We don’t hear too much about them. Were they Jewish? We don’t know. Did they know anything about Jesus? Probably not. But we are told a couple of important things. One, they did what Jesus told them to do. Household servants weren’t necessarily required to take orders from just anybody. When Jesus’ mother tells them to do whatever Jesus tells them, they could have said, “hold on just a minute, lady, let me go talk to the master about this.” When Jesus tells them to fill six enormous jars of water used for the Jewish rite of purification, they could have said, “you know what? I’m just going to run this by the boss.” That’s a lot of water to lug around for no apparent reason. The purification rites happen before the wedding takes place, so there was no clear need for those jars to be filled. But the servants do what Jesus tells them to do, even though it is difficult, labor-intensive, and seemingly unnecessary. They give Jesus the authority of their master. The second thing John’s story makes very clear about these servants is that they knew where the wine came from. They saw and experienced the miracle of the water being turned into wine. In fact, they were bearers of that miracle themselves, taking water from the jars and serving wine to the steward. They were privileged the witness and to bear this miracle, not because they were following Jesus. Not because they were looking for a sign. Purely by grace were they able to witness this resurrecting miracle. So the question that confronts us today is, where are God’s miracles? Where are the signs? If Jesus can turn water into wine to save a wedding party, why doesn’t he turn sand into AIDS treatment for people in Africa or rubble into food for starving Syrians? In the face of these obvious deficiencies, it is difficult to see God’s abundant grace. But this kind of thinking will lead us to be like the guests at the wedding. They had friends and family who were ill. They were living in a poor backwater town, part of a minority group surviving under the thumb of the Roman Empire. They saw need and they experienced tragedy. And for just a short time, for just seven days, they came together to celebrate the union of two people, the possibility of new life for their community. And even though they missed the miracle, they were still given this extended experience of joy and celebration. They got a reprieve from the realities of life and death, grief and struggle. But they missed the blessing of recognizing the hope for true life, abundant life, that was right there in their midst, right there on their lips. If we are not looking for God’s activity, we’re likely to miss it. We may enjoy a reprieve from the struggles of life, the weight of tragedy, and the burden of sin from time to time. But instead of recognizing in those moments the love and grace of God, we will simply go on as we have, our lives unaltered, still waiting for the world to change without really expecting anything to happen. Perhaps we could say that it isn’t God’s job to miraculously heal all the problems of the world in an instant. We are, after all, the hands and feet of Christ, the stewards of the earth, and there is much more we can and should do to help those in need. This is all true, all well and good, but do not forget that the steward, too, missed the miracle. And that is because he failed to do what the servants did. He was serving the wrong master. If we place our authority in earthly leaders and governments and institutions, things will sometimes work out, but we will miss out on the miracle of it all. If we hold ourselves ultimately responsible for the life of the party, we may be left scratching our heads at the way things work out instead of believing in a gracious God and celebrating God’s love and salvation. If, instead, we live like the disciples, following Jesus, staying by his side, watching his every move, expecting the miraculous, we will not be disappointed. We will recognize God’s hand in the resurrected party and the resurrected life. But not everybody is ready to be a disciple. Some of us are still finding our way to Jesus, figuring out who he is and what we believe about him. We may have grown apathetic or disillusioned as we’ve struggled to reconcile our lot in life, or the condition of the world, with a God who promises abundant life. We may not be comfortable with talking about miracles and signs in the context of hard facts and scientific inquiry. But we can still do what Jesus asks of us. We can still give him authority and serve him. We can do the heavy lifting, the hard labor, even when it doesn’t make any sense. And by God’s grace, through that tedious and seemingly meaningless work, we can be carriers of the miraculous, witnesses to God’s wonders. We aren’t told that the servants came to believe in Jesus, but we do know that they knew where the wine came from. What they did with that information was up to them. But I’m going to bet that the next time Jesus came to Cana in Galilee, they were on the lookout for what he might do next. And do you know what they would have seen? A sign much greater than the resurrection of a wedding party. When Jesus comes back to Cana, he saves the son of a royal official from dying. He goes from bringing life to a dying party giving life to a dying child. Wherever Jesus goes, he brings life. To parties and to people, to nations and to the world. The signs of Jesus’ power, the miracles of God’s love, are all around us. We can enjoy them, even if we don’t recognize them. We can be puzzled by them, even as we experience them. Or they can draw us deeper into belief and closer to God. We can watch and wait with expectation, or simply do God’s work in spite of our misgivings. Either way, God is at work and hoping we will notice. To God be all glory forever and ever. Amen. Rev. Dr. John Judson January 3, 2016 Listen Print Version John 1:1-18, Jeremiah 31:7-14 Subversive…that is the only word we ought to use for these opening words from the Gospel of John, subversive. I realize that had I given you ten words to choose from to describe this passage, subversive would probably not have been at the top of your list. And it would not have been because either we don’t really understand it…it is just a bit confusing with all of this Word stuff, or because we have been trained to see it as merely theological. Jesus is the Word. The Word-Jesus was God. Jesus became one of us meaning God is with us. Yea Jesus. It is one of those nice Christmas passages that reminds us that God has become enfleshed in human form. The problem is that this is not, I would argue, how people in the first century would have read it…and I am not just talking about Christians. Anyone reading this in the context of the first century Roman Empire would have read this in an entirely different way…and here is why; Rome believed that the Roman Empire was the light that had come into the world. Emperor Augustus, one of the longest reigning Emperors in Roman history realized the power of story and of religion. So over his reign he devised a new civic religion in which Rome was cast as the light that had come from the gods. Rome was the light that had come into the world to enlighten all humanity. It had been blessed by the gods with the knowledge necessary to lift up and save humanity. This creation epic then gave Rome the right to conquest. It gave it the right to conquest because all of the other nations and people were unenlightened. Thus they need Rome to conquer them in order to lift them up. It also meant that those who were not enlightened and refused to do so could be enslaved because they were inferior. Thus a culture of violence was given theological cover. It was, in the end, Rome’s duty, to bring all people into the sphere of the one, true, enlightened Empire. Thus when John begins to speak of the Word, the Word that was with the God, the Word that was God, he is speaking the language of the Empire. But when this Word turns out not be Rome, when it turns out not to be the Emperor and is instead a carpenter’s son from Nazareth who was hung on a cross, died, was buried and then was raised again, he is offering a set of beliefs which tear at the very heart of the Roman creation myth. This is subversive…and it gets even more subversive when John goes on to describe how this new Word is going to create a new kingdom, a new Kingdom of God. This new kingdom is going to be based not on violence and conquest but on love, on inclusion and on welcome. In fact the single commandment which is to guide the lives of those in this new kingdom is to love one another as Jesus loved them, meaning giving his life for them. This new vision for a new kingdom is subversive because it undermines the very foundations of Rome. This passage continues to be subversive because Rome never left. Sure Rome fell, but it was reincarnated in new forms with every new generation. It was the Caliphates of the Islamic states, it was the Golden Hordes of the Mongol Khans, it was the Holy Roman Empire, it was Chinese dynasties, and the global Empires of European states and even of the United States. How so? When I was in the Philippines I learned of the Filipino-American War which took place from 1899-1902. When the United States defeated Spain in 1898, it received not only Cuba and Puerto Rico, but also the Philippines. And even though the Filipinos had been fighting for independence from Spain since 1892, when the American arrived they claimed that the Filipinos were not capable of self-government and so the United States needed to take control. This led to the war in which perhaps as many as 200,000 Filipinos died. See, Empire and its inherent theology of superiority are alluring. We are more enlightened and so conquest and violence are acceptable. This really hit home in a recent survey when 1,000 Americans were asked, “Should we or should we not bomb Agrabah?” Fully one quarter of all respondents, of both major parties, answered yes…even though the only people currently residing there are Aladdin, Jasmine and a genie. Yes people said we should bomb Walt Disney cartoon characters. Why am I telling you all of this? It is because we are now officially in an election year. And as we move through the next ten months we will hear people speaking the language of Empire; the language of violence and destruction; the language of superiority. In the face of that language our challenge is to be subversive. It is to ask subversive questions. It is to maintain a subversive point of view. It is to remember that we follow the one who brings light and life to the world and commands that we love friend and enemy. Is there evil in the world? Yes. Do we need as a nation to confront evil? Yes. But as we do so we are to do it as those whose lives as aligned with the one who is the Word made flesh, the light to the world, Jesus the Christ, God with us. And through that relationship we are to then choose who we believe is best to lead us into the future. My challenge is to ask, “How am I allowing the subversive words of John shape how I hear the words of those who are in, or who desire to be in, positions of power in our world?” Rev. Joanne Blair
December 27, 2015 Listen Print Version I Samuel 2:18-20, 26; Luke 2:41-52 Just two days ago we celebrated the birth of Jesus, and in today’s reading he’s already twelve. It seems “time really does fly!” This story from Luke is the only mention of Jesus’ youth that made it into Scripture. Most of us have seen the movie “Home Alone”, where a boy is mistakenly left home while his family heads to Paris, and many people think of it when we read this Scripture at this season of Christmastide. How in the world can you leave for a long trip and not know if your kids are with you? But it’s very easy to see how Mary and Joseph didn’t realize that Jesus was not with them. People traveled in caravans to and from Jerusalem, and while we “helicopter parents” may chastise Mary and Joseph for not checking that their son was with them, it really wouldn’t have been unusual in that time and place to assume he was mixed in with the others. Scholars argue whether or not the “three days” counted travel time or not, but more to the point is the conversation between Mary and Jesus. Imagine how distraught Mary and Joseph would have been! You think your child is safely with your friends and relatives, only to discover, miles down the road, that he is not with any of you. You find yourself in that place where “you worry until you know they’re safe … so you can scold them.” Upon finding that Jesus was, in fact, safe, Mary says to him, “Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety.” Jesus’ answer is pivotal. “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house? But they did not understand what he said to them.” The one thing we don’t have in the story is “tone of voice.” We all know the saying, “It’s not what you say, but how you say it.” Was there one of those eye rolls that kids (and myself) are famous for? “Why were you searching for me?” It seems that Jesus acted impetuously, seemingly oblivious to the impact his actions had on others. And maybe that’s true. After all, Jesus was only 12. His response is also full of the self-absorption so typical of adolescents. Adolescence - when we stop being defined as our parents’ children and we start the struggle to find and be our own selves. This story is a peak into Jesus’ childhood and our only up-close and personal view of Jesus as a boy not a baby, as a child not a messiah. These first words the young Jesus utters immediately establish the unique intimacy of his relationship with God. There, in the midst of the holy temple, Jesus felt God’s presence fully and as a result felt completely at home. Today’s scripture lesson shows us a developing Jesus with increasing awareness and growing self-knowledge. We so often think of Jesus as either human, or divine. It is hard to wrap our minds around the fact that he was both human and divine at the same time. I think that would have been hard for Jesus at times, too. Today’s story serves as a transition between Luke’s infancy narratives, and his account of the ministry of the mature Jesus. We hear no more about the infant or adolescent Jesus. But we do have some insight. I doubt Jesus rolled his eyes when he answered Mary. Scripture tells us that Jesus went back to Nazareth with Mary and Joseph and was obedient to them. Despite his knowledge of his relationship with his heavenly Father, he was a dutiful son to his earthly parents. Or perhaps because of his relationship with his heavenly Father… Jesus already sensed his connection to God at 12 years of age. For Luke, the Temple is Jesus’ home - his Father’s house. That says something about Jesus. But it also says something about Mary and Joseph. Mary and Joseph were devout Jews. They built their life around the practice of their faith, and this laid a strong foundation for Jesus as he grew. Thanks to them, Jesus’ daily life was firmly rooted in the life and faith of Israel. Jesus grew from his religious roots, not in spite of them. It was not just because he was God’s Son that he was so comfortable in the Temple. He was a child rooted in the faith. He knew the stories and traditions and laws, and was therefore in a position to discuss them. It also says something about young people. Sometimes young people are more tuned in to God than those of us who are older. Sometimes years and circumstances make it more difficult than it once did for us to accept the wondrous presence of God in this world. You know, we can get crusty, and we can get rusty. We must always leave ourselves open for God. Your being here today matters. Your being here the week after that, and the week after that…it matters. Learning the Bible stories and what they mean….it matters. Praying with our brothers and sisters…it matters. Building relationships with people in this church community…it matters. We cannot “be the church” if we aren’t part of the church. We cannot “reform” if we aren’t being reformed. We cannot feel at home here, if we don’t make this our home. I’m not talking about membership. I’m talking about committing one’s life to God. Involving God in all we say, and think, and do. Living a life pleasing to God inside and outside of these walls. Knowing God intimately. Jesus was comfortable in the temple as a 12 year old boy not just because he was the Son of God, but because his faith was a part of his daily life. He knew what questions he had, and what truths he believed. And this didn’t happen on just one night in a stable. He grew in his understanding. Verse 40 tells us that “Jesus was filled with wisdom.” Verse 52 tells us that “he increased in wisdom as he grew.” Jesus knew of his special relationship with God the Father, but had to grow into it. The daily practices of following his faith rooted him, and helped him in the days to come. So yes, even Jesus had a faith that grew. And so can we. But we have to invest ourselves in it, just like Jesus had to. So where does that leave us today, as we prepare to turn the page and start 2016? Does it leave us with lists of New Year’s resolutions? I sincerely hope not. Maybe instead of making lists of unattainable, and often very selfish goals, perhaps we could do a spiritual inventory and see what fits, and what doesn’t... or shouldn’t. Resentment, old wounds, selfishness and narrow mindedness can be really tight and uncomfortable…constricting even. Grown out of it? Compassion, generosity, justice and love always fit a little loose…with enough wiggle room for more. Growing into it? Jesus had to grow out of a young boy, and into the Messiah. Mary had to grow out of being a “typical” mother protecting him, and into sharing him with the world. So the challenge this week is for you to ask yourself: “What do I need to grow out of that hinders my faith journey? And what shall I grow into to bring me closer to God? Rev. Dr. John Judson
December 20, 2015 Listen Print Version Micah 5:2-5a, Luke 1:39-45 I want to begin with a poll this morning. How many of you have ever seen the same movie more than once? How many of you have seen the same movie more than twice. How many of you have seen the same movie so many times you can almost repeat the dialogue? If I were answering those questions I would have to include myself in each of those categories. Early on in movie going life the one movie I had seen more than any other was Star Wars….the original Star Wars. I saw it on opening night and then seven or eight more times within a couple of months. Part of that was I saw it most of those time when I was in the Philippines and movie theatres were the only air conditioned buildings…so I had an ulterior motive…none the less, I saw it then and have continued to watch it over the years. More recently however I think the movie that I have seen possibly more than Star Wars is It’s a Wonderful Life. Even though it is not my favorite movie there is something about Jimmy Stewart finding Zuzu’s flower petals in his pockets that just gets to me. Anyway, my question then is, have you ever asked yourself why you can watch the same movie over and over, even when you know exactly what is going to happen? The answer I would like to offer is that the writers, the directors and the actors know how to tell a good story. I believe that the ability to tell and to listen to stories is somehow a hard wired capacity in our brains, just as is language. I say this because virtually every civilization we know of, or have ever studied have stories; they are stories of heroes, of founding myths, of the animals. Stories shape who we are, what we believe, and how we make sense of life. Stories, well told stories, then touch us in ways that nothing else can. They make us laugh. They make us cry. They inspire us. They give us courage. This is why we can watch the same movie over and over again because in its telling, it does something to us and in us that changes us. It tells a story that we need to hear. This is why I believe that the Bible has endured over the last several millennia. It has survived not because it is simply a sacred text. It has survived not because it is simply a set of rules. It has survived because it tells, for us Christians, the story; the story of God and people. It tells the story of a loving God who creates a world in which life can thrive. It tells the story of this same God who creates human beings in God’s own image. It tells the story of human beings refusing to listen to or obey this loving God and thereby messing everything up. It tells the story of this loving God not giving up on humanity but instead making a promise that God would one day redeem the world. It tells the story of God giving rules and laws in order that societies can thrive and the vulnerable be protected. It tells the story of human beings continuing to mess up. It tells the story of God coming to this world in the form of human being in order to show us the way to God through his life, his death and his resurrection. It tells the story of God sending the Spirit into the world in order to empower people to love others as they have been loved. It tells the story of God’s final victory over evil and the remaking of the world. It tells the story that has shaped the lives of more than a billion people and changed the world. It tells the story. Like any great story though, this story has endured because the stories within it reflect and enhance the greater story; shorter stories that we can tell and retell in times of need. Like those movies we can watch over and over again, we turn to these stories to touch our lives; to change us; to encourage us. And it is to two of those stories that we turn this morning. The first is a story of hope. The second is a story of joy. The Micah story is a story of hope. Micah was a prophet who lived at the same time as the great prophet Isaiah. He was a rural prophet, someone who had seen how the powerful were abusing the powerless, stealing land, virtually enslaving the people. Here is how he put it, “Alas for those who devise wickedness and evil deeds on their beds! When the morning dawns, they perform it, because it is in their power. They covet fields, and seize them; houses, and take them away; they oppress householder and house, people and their inheritance.” (Micah 2:1-2) These actions were in direct opposition to the Torah, the Law of God. And Micah warns the people that unless they change their ways, really bad things are going to happen. I know, I said that this was a message of hope…and here’s how. The people did not change and the bad things happened. But the hope of Micah was that God would still not give up on them. Instead God would send a new ruler, a messiah, a chosen one who shall bring ultimate justice and peace. This is the word of hope, that regardless of how bad things get, God still has a plan for the good. Our Luke story is a story of joy. Joy is one of those wonderful Biblical words that we often overlook, even at this season when it is used so often. Joy is not just happiness. Joy is hope realized. Let me say that again. Joy, in the scriptures, is hope realized. The story of two women, who are part of a marginalized class and a marginalized people. They are Jews whose people had lived under occupation for more than six-hundred years. The people had been promised through the words of Micah, remember him, a savior, a messiah, one in the lineage of David who would save the people. This was the hope to which the Jewish people had clung for all of those centuries. And then suddenly there is this realization that the moment of liberation is at hand; that the messiah is on his way; that in this unplanned pregnancy of Mary, the promise of hope given through Micah is being realized. And because of that there is joy. As Elizabeth says, “For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy.” The hope is realized. God has not given up on the people. God is still at work…and so there is joy. These two stories, and dozens like them, have been told and retold for more than two-thousand years. They have been told because people need hope. They were told by people whose loves had been torn apart by war and oppression. They were told by people enslaved by others and whose future looked grim. They were told by people who were fearful of the future. They were told by people who were overwhelmed by sadness and grief. And if there in one time when we need to tell these stories it is in this moment in our history. When as Amy Butler, pastor of Riverside Church in New York City puts it, “I’ve heard instead politicians threatening unconstitutional bans on immigration, American Christians spouting a call to arms directly counter to the teachings of Jesus, hate crimes and racial profiling, talk of registering people because of their race and religion. With news like this filling the airwaves, our hearts don’t fill with pride — they’re pulled away instead, toward fear.” This is why we tell stories of hope and joy over and over again; because without them there is only fear…and God’s people are not to be people of fear. We are to be people of hope and joy because that is what God in Jesus Christ gives us. That is what our story tells us. The challenge then for all of us is to ask ourselves, to what kind of stories are we listening? What kind of stories are we telling? We are to ask ourselves this because in the end our story and the stories that it contains are all stories of hope and joy; even in the face of overwhelming odds and our own mistakes, we are to remember that God is not done with us yet. So here is the question I would like you to ask yourselves this week, “How am I telling stories of hope and joy to those around me so that our story might become their story?” Rev. Amy Morgan
December 13, 2015 Listen Print Version Zephaniah 3:14-20, Luke 3:7-18 We have a count-down in our household. We mark each day as it gets closer. There is non-stop talk about this coming event. Ideas about what it will be like; plans for when and where it will take place; expressions of hope. Our home is bursting at the seams with anticipation. There are 5 days left on our count-down. Yes, I’m aware that Christmas is still 12 days away. But in our house, we’re counting down to opening day of the new Star Wars movie. Our dinner table discussions are filled with talk of possible plot lines, new droids and other characters, and how much money Disney is going to make off of this thing. Now, John, the cousin of Jesus, has a count-down of his own. He’s been travelling throughout the region around the Jordan River, calling people to prepare for an epic event, the salvation of the world. And now his fans have begun flocking to the river to be baptized by him. Filled with excitement and anticipation, talking about their hopes and possibilities, re-hashing the prophetic prequels to this event to predict possible new plot lines – the people come out into the wilderness to be baptized. Now, this baptism wasn’t the kind where you sprinkle water on a sweet baby’s head and walk it down the aisle to welcome it into the family of God. The gospel of Luke tells us this was a baptism of repentance. Now, in the first century, there were different kinds of baptism. The Jewish practices related to a ritual bath called a mikvah included various sorts of cleansing, typically around the life-cycle or life transitions. There were cleansing rituals related to sacrifice, and later on, a kind of immersion ritual for conversion to the Jewish faith. The baptism that is later taken up in Christianity incorporates many of these ideas along with cleansing from sin and rising to new life in Christ. But the baptism John is proclaiming is a public act of repentance. It demands more than a desire to be cleansed, purified, and saved. It doesn’t promise the privileges of membership in God’s family. This baptism is simply an opportunity to tell the world that you have failed to live up to God’s expectations. So why would anybody want to do this? Why are people flocking to the desert to participate in an act of public repentance? It doesn’t really sound like a party to me. The people weren’t expecting a party. The people knew the count-down clock was ticking. The cords of tension holding their community, their families, their government together were going to snap. It was only a matter of time. John’s invitation to preparation through repentance would have spoken right to their hearts. Something was about to happen. Perhaps some final and epic battle. And they wanted to be ready. And part of being ready meant owning up to how unprepared they really were. So they flock to the wilderness, and John starts shouting at them, calling them names and sneering at their confidence. And we think he’s lost it. “Who told you to flee from the wrath to come?” YOU did, John! But if we think of this in terms of that preparation for battle, this is not unlike Henry V’s St. Crispin’s Day speech or the coach in the locker room before the big game. Henry tells his men they are losers for wanting to have more troops from England rather than the honor of going into battle outnumbered five-to-one. My husband can tell you all the names he was called by football coaches during “motivational” pre-game talks. John the Baptist doesn’t let the people rest on their laurels as children of Abraham any more than Ron Rivera will let the Carolina Panthers revel in their 11-0 record when they play this afternoon. All this business about broods of vipers and axes at the root of the tree is John’s attempt to get people pumped up and ready for the main event. And it clearly works, because the people ask to review the playbook. They want to know what they should do. And his response is akin to Yoda’s words to Luke Skywalker: “Do. Or do not. There is no try.” Don’t try to repent; don’t try to be a better person; don’t try to live the way God calls us to live. Do. Or do not. But quit talking about it, thinking about it, arguing about it. It’s not that complicated, according to John. If you have two coats, give one away. If you have food, you should share it. Tax collectors should be honorable tax collectors. Soldiers should be honorable soldiers. John the Baptist is like the Yoda of the New Testament, training and preparing the people to encounter the Force that is Jesus Christ. OBI-WAN KENOBI defines “The Force” as “an energy field” that “surrounds us, penetrates us, and binds the galaxy together.” I think this works fairly well as an analogy for the Messiah John is anticipating. The Force that is coming with a baptism of the Holy Spirit and fire to winnow the wheat from the chaff and burn away the chaff – that Force surrounds us and penetrates us and binds the galaxy together. That Force knows our hearts and minds and motivations. That Force sustains us and empowers us and encourages us. And that Force will not fail to strip away our protective barrier of chaff and burn it up. It will tear down our walls and dissolve our divisions to bind the galaxy together. So what then should we do? Once we get to this question, this is one of the easiest passages to translate into 21st century Christianity. If you have more than you need, give what is extra to those who need it. Be honorable in your business dealings. Don’t abuse your power. Do. Or do not. There is no try. The Force is Awakening in our world. Not with a Star Wars movie. Not with an epic battle or final show down. The Force of Jesus Christ is awakening in each and every act of generosity and compassion. Each coat given away and each meal shared with someone in need. The Force of Jesus Christ is awakening in each and every act of justice, in each decision to do the right and honorable thing. The Force of Jesus Christ is awakening in each and every act of restraint and self-control, in satisfaction with what we have. The count-down has begun. Not on November 1 when they started playing Christmas carols on the radio. Not on December 1 when the little doors filled with chocolate started opening on Advent calendars. The count-down started 2,000 years ago, with a man in the wilderness, calling us to repentance, calling us to admit how far we’ve gone down the wrong path and to change our ways. Calling us to see every extra coat, every scrap of food we throw away, every little bit we skim off the top, every gripe about our paycheck as chaff in need of threshing and burning, as fruitless branches in need of pruning. The count-down continues. It continues until Christ comes in final victory, until the Force finally binds the galaxy together – all nations and all people together, and God living among them. We are invited, especially in this season of Advent, to live in joyful anticipation of this final redemption. Human history may seem like a never-ending series of sequels and prequels to the Jesus epic, and in a way, it is. But we live in hope that the next one will be the best episode ever, maybe even the final one. While we wait, while we live in the count-down, we are called to act. To act with generosity, justice, and compassion. So this week, you are invited to continue participating in our Visual Advent project, taking photos of people acting in the world in ways that prepare us for the Force of Jesus Christ to awaken in our lives and in the world. You can text or email your photos to me, or post them on social media. And as we go throughout our lives this week, may the Force of Jesus Christ be with you. Amen. Rev. Dr. John Judson
December 6, 2015 Listen Print Version Malachi 3:1-4, Luke 3:1-6 They were coming over. Cindy and I had been watching television when the phone rang. From the caller ID on the television we knew that it was the previous owners of our house. They wanted to come over. My response was, sure come on ahead. When I hung up Cindy wanted to know what they wanted. Oh they were coming over I replied. Immediately Cindy was up and out of the chair. Miscellaneous shoes were removed from under the coffee table. Books and magazines on top of the table were put away or straightened. The island in our kitchen was cleared of all of the mail that had been left there. Then out came the Swifter duster. Cindy did a quick once over of the sitting area and kitchen. When her preparation was done, she sat back down in front of the television. Almost immediately we saw the headlights turn up the driveway. “They’re here,” she said. I got up, grabbed the package that had been accidently delivered to our house, met them at the front door, handed them the package. They said thanks and left. If you had asked Cindy and I what the odds were that they would have come in we would have said about a thousand to one. If you had asked us what the odds were that they would come in if Cindy had not prepared, the odds would have been dead even. It didn’t matter though. If someone is coming over, we prepare. Let me ask then, how many of you live in a home like this? As I thought, lots of you do. Isn’t it an amazing thing what we go through to prepare when people are coming over? I have decided that there are three levels of preparation. The first is when someone is just dropping by, like the former owners of our house. Level one is we straighten up the mess and do just a bit of cleaning. Level two occurs when people are coming for dinner or a party. What happens then is that we not only straighten up the mess but we clean the bathrooms, vacuum and dust so that it appears that this is the way the house looks all the time. Level three is what happens when someone is coming to spend the night. It doesn’t matter if it is our children, our in-laws or our parents. With level three all of the mess has to be dealt with including changing sheets, washing the towels and of course cleaning up all of the mess. And along with all these levels comes stress. We stress about how we will be perceived through the way in which our house looks. Once again then, how many of you have been, are, or will be stressed this holiday because of how you have to prepare? How many of you will stress someone else because you are going to visit them? What I would like you to do this morning is to take that idea of stressing over preparing and ask yourselves, what would it be like if the one for whom we were preparing was Jesus? I ask because that because both Malachi and John the Baptist were given the assignment of preparing the people of God for the coming of God’s chosen one; of cleaning up the mess the people had made. I will not ask how many of you are familiar with Malachi because even I had to do some research. Malachi was the last of the prophets writing about 400 years before Jesus was born. The mess with which he was faced was that the priests were cheating the people. The priests were taking parts of the sacrifices that were meant for the people as well as not conducting the sacrifices in the prescribed manner. The people as well were a mess. They were not following the appropriate religious practices and were abusing the powerless; widows and orphans. Malachi then challenges them to prepare for the coming of God’s chosen one who would act like a refining fire. We can see how successful he was in that John the Baptist comes with the same message; the people were to prepare for the coming of the chosen one who would usher in the Kingdom of God. The mess which John faced was both political and religious. We know this because Luke tells us so. The opening words of this reading appear to be a brief historical overview of who is in power. But they are more than that. They are a theological reflection on the mess of the day. There was a political mess because rather than a single king ruling the area there were two kings, a governor and another minor ruler. There was a religious mess because rather than there being one high priest, there are two; Annas and Caiaphas. Now, the reality was that there was only one actual high priest, Caiaphas, but everyone knew that the former high priest Annas actually rant things. He was the man in charge. So it was into this mess that John the Baptist was sent to prepare the people. And the way he did so was to invite people into a ritual in which they confessed that they were part of the mess, and then were baptized in order to be part of the cleanup crew; they were baptized to be part of the solution and not part of the mess. They were not only to be prepared, but they were to be those who helped prepare the world for the coming of the Christ. In some ways this is what Advent is all about. It is about preparing ourselves for the coming of the chosen one by helping to clean up the mess of the world around us; by becoming part of the solution and not part of the problem. And if there ever was a time when the world is a mess it is right now. We are a political mess with politicians hurling hate everywhere they go at anyone they don’t like. We are in a religious mess as the church moves through one of the great transitions in its history, not always knowing which way it ought to go. We are in a cultural mess where society offers us a vision of life that insinuates that our value can only be found in what we own, wear and drive. The world is a mess. But you and I are called to be part of God’s clean-up crew as we help prepare the world for the coming of the Kingdom of God. We are to be those, who through demonstrating the love and grace of God in Jesus Christ, draw others into the work in which we are engaged. Understanding that this is not easy, I want to offer you some training material in the form of a prayer; in the form of the prayer of St. Francis. Here it is: Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace! That where there is hatred, I may bring love. That where there is wrong, I may bring the spirit of forgiveness. That where there is discord, I may bring harmony. That where there is error, I may bring truth. That where there is doubt, I may bring faith. That where there is despair, I may bring hope. That where there are shadows, I may bring light. That where there is sadness, I may bring joy. Lord, grant that I may seek rather to comfort, than to be comforted. To understand, than to be understood. To love, than to be loved. For it is by self-forgetting that one finds. It is by forgiving that one is forgiven. It is by dying that one awakens to Eternal Life. As you leave today the ushers have copies of this prayer for you to take with you. My challenge is for each of you to take this prayer, and put it some place that you will read it every day. Then allow its words to prepare you for the work in which you are engaged; the work of helping to clean up the mess of the world as followers of the one whose birth we will soon celebrate and whose power is still arising in the world. Rev. Dr. John Judson
November 29, 2015 Listen Print Version Jeremiah 33:14-16, Luke 21:25-36 He was the golden boy. He was the person whose story earned him the attention of the world. The grandson of Jewish immigrants he had started his business with $5,000 made from lifeguarding and installing sprinklers, well and also $50,000 loan from his father-in-law and had turned it into two of the most well respected investment houses in the nation, if not the world. His annual returns were always around 12% and because of that everyone from foundations, to the ultra-wealthy wanted him to invest their money for them. Part of the allure was that he had pioneered new computer technology which became the basis for the NASDAQ, of which he ultimately became the non-executive chairman. Even though he had a reputation as someone who lived a lavish life-style he also contributed liberally to worthwhile causes and to politicians. My guess is that by now you know of whom I speak, Bernard Madoff, the perpetrator of the largest Ponzi scheme in American history, totaling losses to investors of almost $65 billion. The question so many people have asked since was, how could smart people not have seen what he was doing? The answer is very simple. They did not look. In fact they refused to look. No one wanted to pull back the curtain and discover that the wizard was not real. For you see that there were people in the SEC who had speaking out about the impossibility of the returns he was offering but the higher ups refused to look. And this is what human beings do. We create a narrative in our heads, about relationships, business partners, politicians and current events and then we refuse to look and see who they really are or what is really going on. We don’t want to look behind the curtain. This was true of 911, when we came to discover that local FBI agents were concerned about men linked to Osama Ben Laden getting flight training, and were told not to dig deeper. This was true of the Paris attacks. Both Turkish and Iraqi intelligence had warned the French about the possibility of attacks and no one really checked into it. Human nature is to refuse to look. It is in fact our nature to ignore those who are wandering the wilderness trying to get us to look and see what is happening. This was the role that Jesus was playing in the story we read this morning. What Jesus saw is the pending destruction of Jerusalem. For his listeners this seemed to be absurd. After all if the Day of the Lord was approaching and the messiah was already here in the form of Jesus, then Jerusalem was safe. God would defeat Rome and all others who tried to take the land. And besides, how could God possibly abandon God’s people when they had been faithful year in and year out. But Jesus saw it differently. He saw the power of Rome. He saw the growing rebellion moving in the countryside and in the cities. He sensed that the people would not be satisfied until they were either free or dead. And so he warned his followers. He warned people to stay away from Jerusalem and flee to the country. He warned them that there will be death and destruction. What Jesus wanted them to do is to look. He wanted them to look so that they would have the strength and courage to escape. He wanted them to look so that they would be ready. It was a frightening and depressing message, which few wanted to hear. On the surface anyway, this would not appear to be the kind of message most people would want to hear. It is the sort of thing we hear on the evening news, where everything is bad…everything is a crisis….everything should make us afraid. And if that is the case, why ought we to look? The answer for Jesus was that there was not only death and destruction coming…but there was also hope. Jesus wanted his listeners to not only see the political realities that are ahead but he also wanted them to look and see that God was still at work. He reminded them that when they are in the midst of the fall of Jerusalem to look and they will see that their redemption is drawing near. He reminds them that when the signs all point to the end of the world to remember that the Kingdom of God is drawing near and they will be saved. He reminds them that even if all appears to be lost that they will be able to find the strength that they need to live and to survive. But these things, he says, can only be seen if we are willing to look; to pull back the curtain and see what is really going on. We can only see them if we are willing to look at what God is still doing in the world. For you see, this is how God works in the world. God does not always intervene and save God’s people from themselves, from their own mistakes, but God’s message is that if we are willing to look we will see God at work. We will see that there is hope. And this is not simply a Jesus’ message, this is the message of the entire Bible. It was the message of Jeremiah. The Jeremiah story is that Jerusalem is surrounded by the Babylonian Army; an army of power beyond the comprehension of the Jewish people. Though the people are hoping and praying for a miraculous divine intervention (does all of this sound familiar?) Jeremiah has been telling them that there will be no such intervention. There will not be one because the people have refused to listen to God and have chosen the way of violence, greed and injustice, rather than the way of caring and compassion. There will not be one because the people refused to see the reality of what God was doing and chose rebellion over cooperation. Yet even then Jeremiah says, all is not lost. There will come a time when God will bring forth a new leader who will bring justice and righteousness to the land. Look and see, Jeremiah says, God is not done. You and I live in a moment in history when everything around is painted as being in the broad brush strokes of crisis. The news narrative offered to us is that our lives are in constant danger; from ISIS, from strangers, from…well you fill in the blank. That is all that we are supposed to see when we look. We are supposed to be those who faint with fear and foreboding. But if we listen to Jeremiah. If we listen to Jesus. We will look and see something different. We will look and see God still at work in world. We will look and see Jesus Christ changing hearts and minds. We will look and see acts of great compassion and world transforming love. We will look and see that the force of God’s love in Jesus Christ is awakening once again. We will look and see that God has great plans for the world into which we have baptized three more children of God. The challenge I offer you then is to look, to look and see where God is still at work transforming the world and then allow what you see to create a narrative of hope in your life. Then, when you see those things, take a picture of them and send them to us that we might share them with others. Rev. Dr. John Judson
November 22, 2015 Listen Print Version Deuteronomy 17:7-11, Matthew 22:34-40 For 895 episodes, over thirty-three years he taught us what it meant to be a compassionate neighbor. Mr. Rogers made children feel loved and safe. Mr. Rogers offered a tranquil oasis of acceptance and compassion. Mr. Rogers taught us about being the kind of people we know we were supposed to be. And if you are wondering what he taught us about being compassionate neighbors, here are a few of them. “To love someone is to strive to accept that person exactly the way he or she is, right here and now.” “We live in a world in which we need to share responsibility. It's easy to say "It's not my child, not my community, not my world, not my problem." Then there are those who see the need and respond. I consider those people my heroes.” “Mutual caring relationships require kindness and patience, tolerance, optimism, joy in the other's achievements, confidence in oneself, and the ability to give without undue thought of gain.” “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.' To this day, especially in times of 'disaster,' I remember my mother's words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers--so many caring people in this world." These are the lessons we were taught about being compassionate neighbors in Mr. Roger’s neighborhood. But the question is, where did he learn them? The answer to that question is that he learned them from Jesus. I’m not sure how many of you are aware that Mr. Rogers was not only a Christian but that he was a Presbyterian minister? And as such he understood that Jesus called us to be compassionate neighbors. We see this in our morning’s story. Jesus is under attack by his opponents who want to trip him up so that they can get rid of him. One of the questions is which is the greatest commandment? His response is that we are to love God and love neighbor. When then asked who is my neighbor, he tells the story of the Good Samaritan; a story which says that anyone in need is our neighbor and that in being a compassionate neighbor we are to care for them. And not only does Jesus teach about being a compassionate neighbor he demonstrates it through caring for those for whom no one else will care. He shows that everyone is his neighbor. But they question is, where did Jesus learnt this? I know that many of us think that Jesus just kind of made this stuff up, but he didn’t. He learned it, I would argue, from the rabbinic school of Hillel. OK, so I know that this is something completely new to most of you here. But in the time of Jesus there were two distinct schools of thought about how Judaism ought to understand the Bible. One was the school of Shamya. This school believed in a very strict, legalistic interpretation of the Law of God that lifted up the ideal of what a follower of God should be, even if no one could attain it. The school of Rabbi Hillel was more compassionate and cared about the welfare of neighbors. Here are two statements from Rabbi Hillel. “Whosoever destroys a soul, it is considered as if he destroyed an entire world. And whosoever that saves a life, it is considered as if he saved an entire world.” “What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor: this is the entire Law of God.” This is the kind of compassion that Hillel taught to his followers and even today is basis for much of Judaism across the globe. But the question again, is where did Hillel learn it? The answer is from the Bible. In our Old Testament lesson we read part of the Torah or the Law of God. In it we read that “If there is among you anyone in need, a member of your community in any of your towns within the land that the Lord your God is giving you, do not be hard-hearted or tight-fisted toward your needy neighbor. 8 You should rather open your hand, willingly lending enough to meet the need, whatever it may be….since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, “Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land.” In other words we are to show compassion and care to those around us who are in need and do not have what we have. And this is not the only time that the Law of God told us this. There are in fact almost one hundred references to caring for and being compassionate to those who are our neighbors. So once again, the question is, where did the writers of the Old Testament get these ideas? The answer is, from God. In the end, being a compassionate neighbor is defined by God’s love for God’s creation. God desires the best for every human being. God doesn’t see us through the lens of the language we speak. God doesn’t see us through the color of our skin. God doesn’t see us through the lens of our nationality. God doesn’t see us through the lens of our abilities. God sees us through the lens of the love of one neighbor for another. And in so doing God reaches out in love, grace, compassion and tender caring providing us with everything that we need to not only survive but to thrive. God is the Good Samaritan. God is the father waiting for the Prodigal son to return. God is the king who invited everyone to the banquet. God is the one who cares for the orphan, the widow, the alien, the stranger, the poor…and the rich. God is one who is the ultimate compassionate neighbor. The problem however is that with all of that having been said we are living in a moment when we are told that we are to be compassionate neighbors to everyone except…except to certain people. We are to be compassionate neighbors to everyone except refugees from the Syria, the Middle East and Northern Africa. We are to be compassionate neighbors to everyone except Muslims. We are to be compassionate neighbors to everyone except the more than nine-thousand homeless persons in Oakland County. We are to be compassionate neighbors to everyone except those who don’t look like us, act like us or live where we live. In fact not only do we not have to be compassionate neighbors but we can demonize them all. My question to all of us this morning is this, where do we see Mr. Rogers, Jesus, Hillel, the Torah or God making those kinds of exceptions? For my part I don’t see any. Now, I realize that there is evil in the world, and ISIS is one of its current incarnations. Yet even in the face of such terrorism, I do not see God or Jesus making any exceptions that let us off the hook for being compassionate neighbors. With that being said I want to offer one more quote from Mr. Rogers. “At the center of the Universe is a loving heart that continues to beat and that wants the best for every person. Anything that we can do to help foster the intellect and spirit and emotional growth of our fellow human beings. That is our job. Those of us who have this particular vision must continue against all odds. Life is for service.” My challenge to you then is this. To ask ourselves, even in the face of fear, how am I being a compassionate neighbor to all? |
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