The Rev. Dr. John Judson
November 14, 2021 Listen Watch Service Watch Sermon Print Version Exodus 12:1-13; Acts 16:22-34 Two stories about true believers. Story one: They had heard the rumors and had done their research. Though there were skeptics around them, these true believers knew what was real and what was fake. They knew that two weeks ago John F. Kennedy junior would appear in the same plaza where his father was shot and announce that he was the real vice-president of the United States. It did not matter that authorities had pulled Kennedy’s body, along with those of his wife and another passenger, from the wreckage of his plane that had gone down at sea. It did not matter that the passengers had been identified through dental records. It was all a lie. It was a way for the government to hide Kennedy away until the time was right. And so, these true believers gathered in the plaza awaiting his return. They took time away from their jobs. They traveled thousands of miles to see the event. Then, when he didn’t turn up the rumor spread that his real appearance would be at the Rolling Stones concert later that night. Story two: They believed that Covid-19 was real and deadly. While they watched the number of children being infected soar, they did their homework. They watched as the trials for children progressed and as the nation’s medical authorities debated the efficacy of the vaccine on younger and younger children. Some even enrolled their children in the trials. They believed in the science and technology. Then, the moment when the government approved the vaccine, they lined up their children to be immunized. It may be difficult for us to relate to both these stories. Some of us will see one as an appropriate belief and the other as not. Yet these two stories each contain the two fundamental ingredients of believing. These two ingredients are an acceptance of a perceived reality and a willingness to act on that perceived reality. Let’s unpack this. First, the acceptance of a perceived reality means that an individual, or a group of individuals looks at the world, takes in certain information and then creates a reality around that information. Those waiting for J.F.K. Jr. took in information that he was still alive and created a reality around that information. The parents of young children took in scientific information about the safety and efficacy of the vaccines and created a perceived reality around that. Second, those who believed that J.F.K. Jr. was still alive and that he would appear in Dallas took whatever measures they thought were necessary to be present for his return. As I said a moment ago, they used their time and treasure to be there. In the same way, those parents who desired that their children be protected from Covid-19 stood in line at one in the morning, or got on the phone to their pediatricians as soon as possible to ensure that their children were inoculated. Belief is about acceptance of a perceived reality and then a willingness to act on that perception. These two ingredients are also present in the Biblical understanding of believing. We can see how this idea plays itself out in both of our stories. First, our Exodus tale: The Hebrew people had been slaves for decades. They were powerless against the Egyptian Pharaoh and his minions. And even though Moses and Aaron had continued to tell the Hebrews that this God of their ancestors was going to set them free, their lot had only gotten harder. Their work had only become more difficult. But as the plagues began to ramp up in severity, something began to change. The attitude, the belief of the Hebrew people began to perceive a new reality. They began to perceive that this God of their ancestors was indeed a liberating God. This God was one who not only desired they be free and had the ability to free them, but was going to do so. Their response was to listen to the commands to prepare for this God to act. In the face of overwhelming odds, they roasted their lambs, prepared their meals, placed blood on the door frames of their houses, and waited for this God to act. This was belief, belief in a liberating God, a belief that would have cascading effects across the years. We can see these same two parts of belief at work in the Book of Acts in three separate incidents in this one story. The first incident has to do with the reason for Paul and Silas being in prison. When Paul and Silas arrive in Philippi, they are followed by a woman who’s a soothsayer who says soothes…she tells fortunes. She does this because she is possessed by a spirit. She follows Paul and Silas around crying out that they were followers of the great god. Paul finally tires of this and casts out the spirit…meaning he sets this woman free. While this is an act of liberation for the woman, her owners see it as an act of because this woman can no longer make them any money. The owners then raise a riot against Paul and Silas, thus leading to their flogging and incarceration. These events lead to the second cascading effect of the perceived reality of God as liberator. The second effect concerns Paul and Silas praying and singing even while in chains. They do so because they believe that God is a liberating God and so, one way or another God will free them. But then an unexpected event leads to an unexpected liberation. There is an earthquake. The quake throws open the prison doors and tears the chains from their walls. People have often seen this as God liberating Paul and Silas, but I would argue that is not so. It is not so because neither the text nor Paul link God to the earthquake and because Paul and Silas do not escape. Instead, they stay put and liberate the jailer. The story tells us that the jailer was about to take his life because he was afraid that the prisoners had run away, and he would be tortured and executed for their escape. Paul stops him by telling the jailer that no one had left. Rather than being relieved at this revelation, the jailer asks, “How can I be saved?” This is not a question about how to get to heaven. It is a question about how he can be liberated from his fear of what might happen to him. Paul and Silas answer his question by sharing their perceived reality that God is a god of freedom and liberation. The jailer accepts this new perceived reality and then acts on it by bringing Paul and Silas out of the jail, dressing their wounds, and feeding them. In other words, the jailer becomes God’s agent of liberation. Finally, the jailer and his family give thanks for believing in God. This is the cascading effect of believing that it can move from Moses to Paul, to a Roman jailer…and to us because we are the beneficiaries of this cascading effect of believing. What I mean by this is that we did not invent the particular perception of reality that God is a liberating God. It is a perception that has been shared for thousands of years by more than a billion people. People have believed that in Jesus of Nazareth they can and have been set free; can be and have been liberated. This perception of reality that we share helps us see and experience that Jesus can turn the prison of hate into the freedom love; the prison of fear into the freedom of fearlessness; the prison of doubt into the freedom of conviction; the prison of sadness into the freedom of joy; the prison of hopelessness into the freedom of hope; the prisons of racism, sexism, and homophobia into the freedom of shared humanity; the prison of sin into the freedom of forgiveness; and the prison of death into the freedom of life. And we do so because we have witnessed the truth of this perceived reality; because we have seen it at work in our lives and in the lives of others. And I believe in this perception of reality because there was a moment in my life when I thought there was no hope, but through the witness of others I was introduced to this perception of reality that God wanted me to be free. And slowly, over time and with help, my prison doors were opened and I was able to see the light of hope again. And whenever I have my doubts about this perception of the reality of God, I remember those moments and believe. Every day we are offered multiple realities in which we can believe. Some are worth believing in, the efficacy of vaccines, and others are not, the return of J.F.K. Jr. But the one on which I would argue we can all depend is the perceived and realized reality that God is a liberating God, who desires our freedom so that we might experience the fullness of love and joy. My challenge to you then for this week is this, to ask yourselves, “How am I allowing God in Jesus to set me free from the prisons that hold me fast?” The Rev. Dr. John Judson
November 7, 2021 Listen Watch Service Watch Sermon Print Version Exodus 4:27-31; Luke 10:1-3 I thought I knew everything about cars. I thought I knew everything about cars because at the age of 16 I quit playing sports, got a job, and spent every dime I made on my 56’ Chevy. Along the way I learned how to rebuild engines, replace transmissions, shifters, differentials, brakes, carburetors, fuel pumps, and just about every piece of a car that could be replaced. It was an education that has proven useful across the years. Like I said, I thought that experience meant I knew a lot about cars, and it all seemed pretty simple. Then I moved to Detroit. Putting it mildly, what I learned was that I really knew very little not only about cars but about the complex nature of taking a car from a concept to reality to getting it out of the dealership. I had no idea about the process of design, the science behind the materials, the coordination of thousands of engineers across multiple disciplines, the coordination and multiplicity of suppliers, many supplying only one part of the car, the importance of micro-chips, the manufacturing plant and its advanced technology and robotics. the dealer networks that sell and service the car; or the financing sector who keeps all of it on budget and helps people purchase new and used cars. I was, and continue to be, impressed by the amount of teamwork that it takes to get a concept to a reality, to the showroom, and then on the road. In some ways my naivete about cars was also my naivete about the teamwork that has been and still is required in the construction of God’s kingdom here on earth. What I mean by that is that my childhood Sunday school lessons made it seem as if the entire Biblical story was about a few heroes who made everything happen and everyone else were just onlookers whose presence was not all that important. These heroes were Freedom Giving Moses, I killed Goliath David, the Savior Jesus, and the Apostle Paul. They were the real movers and shakers. They were never in need of a team. Sure, Jesus had the disciples, but even they were not all that important. Teamwork wasn’t necessary for Biblical superheroes. Yet, as any Marvel Movie fan knows, it takes a team to accomplish a task, as both our stories show this morning. First, Moses needed Aaron. Moses was not a capable speaker. He needed someone else to speak the words that God was giving him. Later in Exodus we will discover that Moses will appoint both an unknown number of judges and seventy elders to help him run things. David, though he could slay a giant, needed more people to help him and so he recruited those called his mighty men. Jesus needed a larger team as well. Not only did he need the disciples, but he also needed the seventy to go before as an advance team to prepare the way for him. And the Apostle Paul worked with Barnabas, Timothy and appointed elders everywhere he traveled. Finally, let’s not forget the role of women. Moses’ wife Zipporah saved his life. David and his men are fed by Abigail when they were hungry. Jesus’ ministry was supported by the gifts of women. And Paul had Apostolic co-workers who were women. Biblically speaking, it always takes a team. The same is true here at Everybody’s church. It takes everybody to keep this community running. While those of us on staff are usually the most visible presence, we cannot make First Presbyterian run. It takes a team. It takes a team of staff behind the scenes to keep things humming. And it takes dozens and dozens of volunteers to keep the church up and running. It takes ushers, and musicians, and singers, and audio-video tech people, and people on the phones, and people serving on committees, and people engaged in mission, and Stephen ministers walking with people through tough times, and Sunday school teachers and helpers, and Gardening Angels to keep the flower beds looking fabulous, and on and on. And then it takes all of us making financial contributions to pay the bills which supports our staff, keeps the lights on, pays for mission work, and then shares resources with the local, national, and global church. I realize that I may sound like one of those smiling people on PBS talking about all the wonderful programming they produce and so why don’t you contribute and get a free mug or tote bag? While we do share the need for funding with those wonderful organizations, the difference is in our mission. The mission of PBS and NPR is to educate and entertain. Our mission is to transform: to transform people into the image of Christ, to transform this community into the very body of Christ, and to help transform the world into the Kingdom of God. And the reality is that our church, your church, is only able to do this transformative work when all of us share our talents, time, and treasure. It was true in Jesus’ time, as Jesus was supported by the financial gifts of his followers, and it is true today. In some ways this is an appropriate Sunday to be talking about teamwork because in a few minutes we will be remembering some of the team members who are no longer with us. These men and women who gave of their time, talents, and treasure to help this church become what it is today. They are part of a 187-year tradition that has insured that the work of Kingdom building in Birmingham continues uninterrupted. My challenge to you on this Sunday as we light these candles and then as we come to the table, is to ask yourselves how am I willing to be part of this team that nurtures a community of faith in which all people are embraced continues to be a light to the world? The Rev. Bethany Peerbolte
October 31, 2021 Listen Watch Service Watch Sermon Print Version Exodus 5:1-9; Matthew 17:14-21 The topic for today is a tough one the day after the MSU vs. UofM so I want to issue a trigger warning, especially for UofM fans that this sermon is about expecting failure. (I promise I would have made that joke if my Spartans had lost too). Failure is a gigantic subject. If you put the word failure into google or a youtube video search you will get hundreds of hits. “How to avoid failure” “How to fail your way to success” “Learning from Failure” Our culture is obsessed with failing, probably because we have all experienced it and desperately want to avoid it. It is a gift that Moses is not afraid of his failure. Or at least he isn’t afraid of it when he writes Exodus because he includes stories where he fails. He could have left those parts out and painted himself in a stronger tone, but Moses wants us to know failure will be part of the story. It was part of his story and the story of Israel and we should expect failure to be a part of our story too. I really liked the way this passage read in the Message so let’s listen to this story one more time : 1 After that Moses and Aaron approached Pharaoh. They said, “God, the God of Israel, says, ‘Free my people so that they can hold a festival for me in the wilderness.’” 2 Pharaoh said, “And who is God that I should listen to him and send Israel off? I know nothing of this so-called ‘God’ and I’m certainly not going to send Israel off.” 3 They said, “The God of the Hebrews has met with us. Let us take a three-day journey into the wilderness so we can worship our God lest he strike us with either disease or death.” 4-5 But the king of Egypt said, “Why on earth, Moses and Aaron, would you suggest the people be given a holiday? Back to work!” Pharaoh went on, “Look, I’ve got all these people freeloading, and now you want to reward them with time off?” 6-9 Pharaoh took immediate action. He sent down orders to the slave-drivers and their underlings: “Don’t provide straw for the people for making bricks as you have been doing. Make them get their own straw. And make them produce the same number of bricks—no reduction in their daily quotas! They’re getting lazy. They’re going around saying, ‘Give us time off so we can worship our God.’ Crack down on them. That’ll cure them of their whining, their god-fantasies.” Moses and Aaron walk into Pharaoh’s court with extraordinary boldness. They don’t do any of the bowing or exulting or greetings we see at other times people enter powerful courts. They get right to the point “the Lord has said.” This is a power move for sure. Pharoah thinks of himself as a god so to be told that another god is commanding him to do something is not going to go very well. That fact does not seem to bother Moses or Aaron. They start off with the command. This immediately goes sideways. Pharoah is offended they didn’t greet him appropriately and they issue a command from another god with whom Pharoah has no relationship. Of course, he is going to get defensive and snap back at the audacious duo. Moses and Aaron see their mistake and try to do some damage control. They know if Pharoah won’t let them go the plagues will come but saying “you will be punished” is not going to be a great follow-up. So they try to illustrate that the Egyptians and the Israelites are all in this together. One big happy community that should be aware that “God will strike US with disease or death.” Instead of saying God will strike “you”, which is the truth, they soften the delivery and say, “us” It’s too little too late and Pharoah issues an order that makes the brick labor harder without reducing the daily quota. This is not to say if Moses and Aaron came in bowing and bribing Pharoah things would have gone differently. This is to say WHAT DID THEY EXPECT!? In their wildest dreams did they actually think going in there and asking for a free weekend was going to work? I don’t think so. I think they knew that was how the meeting was going to go. Maybe that’s why they didn’t bow, they knew it wasn’t going to help anyway. They expected to fail. And they did. But when they did fail it wasn’t crushing because they were ready for it. When we expect to fail it softens the impact. Yesterday I was watching the football game with friends who were cheering for both sides. At the end of the third period though it sounded like we were all rooting for the same team because we all kept saying “we will find a way to lose this just you wait.” We were protecting ourselves from the impact of losing by expecting to fail. Acknowledging that failure is possible helps us deal with the blow that failure can throw at us. And it allows us to bounce back faster and stronger. I heard an interview with a prisoner of war a few months ago and he was asked what the best survival technique is for those situations. He answered “be pessimistic” he went on to clarify “it was the optimistic ones who died first. They would count the days and say “we will be out by Christmas, this will be over by easter, we will be on the beach by the fourth of July” As their prediction dates passed they ran out of hope. He also said the pessimists didn’t fare well either, especially after being rescued. It was the soldiers who expected to fail that made it through. The ones that expected success did not enjoy the days between Christmas and Easter because they were looking into the future. Then when the big day came and went they were crushed by the impact of failure. The ones who expected failure could shrug it off and prepare for the next day. Leaving room for an expectation of failure helps us absorb the impact when we do fail and it also teaches us that failure is not the end of the story. People who expect to fail, and then fail, learn that the world goes on after failure. You have probably heard the quote from Thomas Edison “I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work” That is the voice of someone who expects to fail. SO I failed, big deal, I’ll try again. My favorite quote about failure is from Henry Ford “Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again, this time more intelligently.” This is what it sounds like to be a person who expects to fail. It’s not the end, failure is one of the steps, maybe 10,000 of the steps, but it is just part of the process. Moses and Aaron walk out of Pharaoh’s court as failures. And it probably hurt a lot, but they kept going. They knew that was just the first step. The disciples on the other hand have not pushed through the failure as well in Matthew 17. They tried to help the boy but failed. That failure derails their faith and they can not recover. They let their initial failure cloud every other attempt. They did not see failure as a learning experience. They didn’t try a different prayer or maybe even try a second time they send the boy off and Jesus has to fix it. The disciples give up. Jesus is not thrilled. “You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you? How much longer must I put up with you?” It's a gut-wrenching thing to hear Jesus say. It’s like a parent saying “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed” UGH! Then Jesus talks about the mustard seed. We use this section of scripture to empower and uplift. The mustard seed has become a symbol of power and success. Yet when we read this whole scene it’s not a particularly uplifting moment. Faith the size of a mustard seed yes but what else is in there with the mustard seed. A pumpkin seed of shame, an avocado seed of fear, a coconut of failure. The disciples are focusing on the wrong thing. They just see the failure and forget about the tiny seed of faith behind it. Moses and Aaron were better prepared to notice the mustard seed. They kept trying. They knew failure did not mean an end to God’s story and so it did not mean an end to their story. Jesus wanted the disciples to grasp this concept because he expected the failure his movement was about to face. Jesus wanted them to expect failure so that when he was put on a cross they would remember the mustard seed in the corner and hold on. Because in God’s story failure is never the end, it is just a step towards the solution. We must expect to fail. It will help us absorb the impact and we will bounce back stronger than before. We must expect to fail because what seems like a failure could, in three days, turn into the solution. Failure is never the end of the story. If you feel like you are in the midst of failure, remember your mustard seed. The seeds of failure and shame and fear feel bigger than your faith and are incredibly distracting and discouraging, but all you need is a mustard seed-size faith. Those other seeds want our attention. Failure and shame want our resources to grow bigger and stronger. But we can look at failure and say “I expected you to show up, Hello. If you would excuse me the seed behind you is the one I’m going to fertilize and help grow” Failure becomes less of a distraction when we expect it to be there and remember our story goes on after failure. Jesus proved that failure is not the end of the story so let’s stop allowing it to derail our efforts and our faith. Reassess, adjust the plan, try again, and water the mustard seed. Failure is to be expected and it is not the end of your story. The Rev. Bethany Peerbolte
October 24, 2021 Listen Watch Service Watch Sermon Print Version Exodus 4:1-9; 2 Timothy 1:3-7 A few weeks ago I talked with you about how important it is for us to examine our Theology and notice what kind of effects it has on our daily practical lives. My example that time was how believing that somebody is a sinner versus believing that they are made very good can affect the way we interact with and see the people around us. As I was studying the scriptures for today I realized this time I was going to have to be a little bit more vulnerable and talk about a way that a seemingly inconsequential belief caused serious damage in my life. Because this week we are talking about gifts from God, and for the majority of my life my understanding of God’s gifts caused me to feel unworthy. Now I want to be clear that the toxic theology that I had taken to heart was not something that was purposely given to me to be hurtful. In fact, on the surface, everything that was taught to me was very well intended and looked to be an uplifting theology. The only way I have learned that what I believed was wrong is by the fruits it has produced in my life. When it became apparent that the fruits this belief was producing were rotten, I had no other choice but to re-examine how I understood God's gifts. God’s gifts were always presented as good things. If something was good in my life it was a gift from God, which sounds truthful enough. However when this idea pairs with another common Christian teaching it turns toxic. I did not just believe God’s gifts were good, I also believed I was unworthy of them. And so the equation that developed in my mind was good equals God, bad equals me, or what I deserved. This is not what was taught to me but this is what found its root inside me. I was supposed to be striving to be perfect like Jesus, and that was a task I could never hope to achieve because I was a miserable sinner. We can begin to see how these theologies play off each other and start rotting us from the inside. So I tried to be good. I did what the assignment was. I was the good student, I was the good child, I was the good friend, but when I found myself in a relationship with someone else and I started valuing being the good girlfriend over everything else, it suddenly became apparent that this was not a healthy way to live. Because I believed good things came from God but that I deserved bad things, and so when my partner dealt me bad things that fit with my view of myself, it's what I deserved. My job was to be the good girlfriend despite it all. The occasions when good things happened it was a blessed relief from God. When bad things happened it was par for the course. What more could I expect to have happen to me? My theology justified the abuse. So for four years I tried to make the pieces fit together. Until one day, the Spirit took hold of me and I refused to meet up with that person again. I told him to forget my number and forget I existed. I wanted nothing more to do with him. That is exactly how I described my break free moment. The Spirit took hold and saved me, but can you hear it even in that? My toxic theology was present even in the moment I broke free. I could not give myself any credit for the good thing that I had done, that I had finally stood up for myself. It was all God! This is how strong our beliefs can dictate our lives. They literally write our story for us and in my story I never said I did the good things. It was always God. While it is true that God gives us good things we also need to see that God does not do anything alone. We have to save some credit for ourselves. When I was reading this story about Moses, I heard the same toxic theology come up as I was reading. Oh here is poor miserable Moses, who is the runaway murderer, who is a stutterer, who can't get anything right. God is stepping in and saving him, giving him the good things he needs to be the leader God is asking him to be. Moses does not deserve the position or attention he is getting from God, but yet God takes Mercy and gives him good gifts. That is how I always read the story until last week when I finally made the connection that the toxic theology that nearly destroyed my life was trying to inform me about what was happening to Moses. I had to stop and reread this with a new lens and stop seeing Moses as the unworthy and God as the ultimate good, but try to understand why Moses is chosen, why are these signs given to him? When we stop assuming Moses is a worthless loser we begin to see how this partnership actually comes together. The first sign, when Moses gets worried, God says what do you have there in your hand? And Moses looks and says, well this is my staff, this is what I used to guide my flocks when there is a dangerous edge of a cliff. I can stand and direct my flock away from it, if there's a fight within the flock I can break it up. From far away, if there is a predator on the outskirts of the flock, I can raise my staff high and make myself look bigger and scare away the danger. This is just a staff. God knows this is a good start. God also knows there's other dangers among the flock. Moses also knows how to pick up a snake by its tail and throw it far away. God knows these are really good skills when you're standing with the people and they don't believe who you are or who sent you. Take your staff, throw it on the ground and it will turn into a snake. when you grab that snake by the tail, it will turn back into your staff. God uses the skills that Moses already has to create the sign that Moses needs to convince people. God doesn't say, I'll be with you. I'll put some lightning in the sky. There will be a miraculous sign they will have to understand. God doesn't take any of the credit. God uses what Moses is already good at to create the sign needed. And if that's not enough God gives another sign. God does not just know what Moses is good at on the outside, God knows who Moses is on the inside. God saw Moses put his body in between the slave and the Egyptian guard, and when the slave was being beaten Moses put his body in between them and said stop. Moses was so passionate about this because he murdered the abuser. God knows that Moses is a leader willing to put his flesh on the line for the things he believes are right. So knowing that, knowing that Moses is already willing to do that, God says here's another sign. Put your hand inside your cloak. When you remove it it will be filled with disease, then when you put it back in your cloak and pull it out again it will be healed. This sign shows the people who Moses is as a leader, someone willing to put his body on the line for them. And then we have the last sign. This last sign is a bit different because God is asking Moses to go and get something that he doesn't already have on his person. But this, I think, was God's move to try and win over some of the skeptics that will be among the crowd. Modern-day illusionists do this too. If you don't believe that my card trick worked, or you believe this cup might have a hole in the bottom of it, or if you don't believe the tricks that I showed you with the things that I brought, then I'll ask you to give me a $20 out of your pocket, something you know very well. If I can do something magical with that then you may be more willing to believe my skills. The Israelites knew the water. The water around them was their life. It gave them nourishment, it washed them. They let their kids play in this water. They knew it inside and out, and in all of those years of interacting with this water it had never turned to blood. So for Moses to say to someone, go and get a pitcher of water from the Nile, and for that water they know so well to be brought to him, to be dumped out and for blood to hit the ground, the skeptics would realize this is real. We know this water. How could it have done this in the hands of this person? It has become something we have never seen before. This final sign connects all that Moses is as a leader to the people. He uses the thing they value the most, their greatest asset, to show that in his hands he can make something different happen for their lives. These signs are God's gift to Moses. They are meant to help him as he takes on the role that God has chosen him for. It is true that they are good gifts but the whole truth is it they are also Moses's gifts to God. Moses has learned how to use that staff. He has learned how to handle a snake, so in that moment God has something to work with, to make a sign out of the skills that Moses already possesses. Moses is already a person who before God chose him to do anything was willing to put his body in the line of danger to protect the people. When God needs another sign to give to Moses, he makes one Moses will be comfortable with because it is connected to who he is at the core. The third sign is probably the one Moses feels least comfortable with. He has never turned water into blood. But because God first asks the things that Moses is comfortable with and they have some success producing these signs, together Moses easily steps into the third sign of accepting the water and throwing it on the ground. It would be absolutely correct for Moses to claim all these signs are God’s because they are. But they are also deeply rooted in who Moses is, what he is skilled at, who he is inside at his core nature. These are good gifts from God, and Moses is a very active and willing partner in the process of making this great good, which is releasing God's people from Egypt. It is a great, good work of God and it is a great, good work of Moses. Our second testament reading encourages us to fan the flames of our gifts. This imagery shows it so beautifully because our gifts are just minor sparks. But when we take the time to fan them, to take them out and put them on a torch and show the world our gifts, we become active participants in the good that God is doing through us. When I gave God all the credit for rescuing me from a bad relationship it left me with deep distrust in myself. I had chosen the bad person. I was not able to get out. I might choose wrong again and need God to rescue me again. It wasn’t until I accepted my role in making that final call that I began to trust myself again. That it was the strength I had built inside me that allowed me to break free. Was God there cheering me on, reminding me of my strength? Absolutely, but that strength was mine. It was my voice that spoke up. The power that took control that day is mine. And so I want you to take some time this week and give yourself the credit. You have gotten this far, yes, with God's help, yes, with God's good gifts, and you have had to act on those gifts that God has given you. You have had to actually do something about that problem in your life and stand up for what you know to be true. You are not unworthy, you are the very tool that God needs to make this world into what it is becoming. Give yourself credit for being a willing and active partner with God for the betterment of this world. You deserve credit for the good things you have done. You are worthy, you are worth it. The Rev. Dr. John Judson
October 17, 2021 Listen Watch Service Watch Sermon Print Version Exodus 3:1-12; Matthew 10:1-4 I felt like a fraud. It was the first official day of classes at seminary, and I felt like a fraud. To understand this, you need a bit of background. A little over a month after our wedding, Cindy and I loaded all our worldly possessions into an unairconditioned U-Haul truck and drove from Houston to Richmond, VA. I then spent the next six weeks in “Greek School” learning enough Greek so that I could read the Bible in its original language. With Cindy’s help I managed to pass. At that point I was officially a student. The first day of classes I gathered with the other first year students and we took the obligatory class photo and then went to meet Dr. John Leith, perhaps one of the world’s greatest Reformed theologians. He leveled his gaze over us and then said the following, “Most of you should not be here. If you can’t explain soteriology, ecclesiology, and Christology and if you are not familiar with Biblical interpretation, then you have no business being here. You need to pack up all your things, go back to college and get a degree in Bible or theology. Then you can come back and see us.” As I looked around the room, it seemed as if everyone else was checking off their list of yes, I know those things, while I was just trying to figure out what those words meant. What you need to know is that prior to entering seminary my entire religious background was two Old Testament college courses and reading the New Testament once. I felt like an imposter and figured that soon they would discover my lack of knowledge and ask me to leave. Feeling like an imposter actually has a name, which is Imposter Syndrome, or imposterism. Imposter Syndrome happens when we believe that we have been asked to, or promoted to do, or hired to do something that is over our heads and that we are not competent to do. Wikipedia puts it this way, “Imposter syndrome is a psychological pattern in which an individual doubts their skills, talents, or accomplishments and has a persistent fear of being exposed as a fraud. Despite external evidence of their competence, those experiencing this phenomenon are convinced that they are frauds and do not deserve all that they have achieved.” It takes the old saying “Fake it till you make it” and turns it into “You have made it, but you are only faking it.” While this syndrome was originally studied in high achieving women, later studies showed that it can affect all persons, regardless of their educational or achievement status. I bring this syndrome to our attention this morning because I have often wondered if it was at the heart of Moses’ conversation with God at the burning bush. To understand this, we need to return to Moses’ story. Moses was a Hebrew child raised in the Egyptian palace. Though his princess mother called him son, it would be obvious to all that he was not her son. He was ethnically different. I imagine as he grew older and realized that he was Hebrew and not Egyptian, he would have felt like a fraud; like he didn’t fit in; that one day someone would say, “You are not one of us. You are a Hebrew. You need to be a slave again.” This must have been Imposter Syndrome on steroids. Then, after he fled the palace because he killed an Egyptian, he ended up as a shepherd. Now, while shepherding may seem like a noble profession to us, after all it was the shepherds who came to see Jesus, the Egyptians saw it as a disgusting, demeaning, and unclean job. Shepherds were the outcasts, the lowest of the low. So, when God, speaking to Moses out of the burning bush, says, “Hey, Moses I need to you to go free my people,” Moses must have been thinking to himself, “If I did that I would be even more of a fraud. They would ask me what I did for a living, and when I said shepherd, they would know that I could never be a liberator of people. I would just be a disgusting outcast and nothing more.” Again, Imposter Syndrome at work which ought to make us wonder why the disciples didn’t feel the same way. I have often thought it odd that the disciples did not seem to suffer from the same syndrome as Moses. I say this because the disciples were not qualified at all to do what Jesus asked them to do, to cast out unclean spirits and to cure people of diseases. These twelve men were fisherfolk, carpenters, tax collectors, hot-heads, and all-around malcontents. Some may have had some formal education but none of them had been to miracle worker school. They had not been to the first century equivalent of Hogwarts where they got their wands and learned the magic spells that could drive out demons and heal diseases. Yet, evidently, as soon as Jesus commissioned and authorized them, they went out and began trying out their healing chops. Now, even though they were not completely successful in their efforts, it did not stop them from trying. Rather than explaining to Jesus that they were not qualified because of imposter syndrome, they went to work and changed lives. The question is, what was the difference? What was the difference between Moses and the disciples? Then answer I believe is that the disciples were open to the impossible. I want to be clear at this point what I mean by being open to the impossible. I will begin by talking about what I don’t mean. I don’t mean the kind of late-night infomercials for Peter Popov’s miracle spring water that can free you from debt by causing checks for thousands of dollars to miraculously appear in your mailbox. I don’t mean Rev. Ike’s prayer cloths that when applied would heal you from any and all diseases. And I certainly don’t mean Bennie Hinn’s famous miracle crusades where he would “cure” people by breathing the Holy Spirit on them. What I mean instead is being open to the possibility that God can be at work in us, using God’s power and our abilities to accomplish more than we thought we could ever accomplish. It means being open to being used by God to accomplish the impossible. I realize that being open to the impossible, that God might be able to do amazing things through us, is something most of us find difficult to believe. In some ways it is like people claiming that they can’t draw, or they can’t sing because somewhere, sometime, someone has told them that they cannot do those things, and so they quit trying. And if they do try, then they have imposter syndrome, believing that someone will see right through them. In the same way, many of us have convinced ourselves that God can’t really do anything through us because we don’t have the real gifts to serve God. We become in some ways a Moses and not a disciple. If that is the case, I want to introduce you to Howard. Howard was an elder at a small inner-loop church in San Antonio, TX. As the neighborhood in which the church resided became more Hispanic and poorer, the church members decided they needed to serve those around them. They opened a food pantry and offered money to assist with rent and utilities. But Howard believed that God was calling them to do more…and this was exciting for Howard because he was a man who was always open to the impossible. One day Howard told the Session that he believed that God was calling their church to build a multi-story low-income housing project. Most of the members believed his quest was a fool’s errand…that it was impossible. To even consider such an endeavor was absurd. Howard, however refused to give up on the impossible. And so, as Howard put it, with God’s guidance he met the right people, connected with the right resources, and ultimately convinced the congregation to be open to the impossible. The end result was Westminster Square, a 107-unit affordable housing complex open to low-income seniors. This year, after fifty years of operations, the complex was sold to a national Presbyterian Housing Corporation. The sale netted the board over six million dollars, all of which will be used to fund mission and ministry in inner city San Antonio. And all it took was one man and ultimately one congregation, who were open to the impossible, along with God’s silent partnership, to change the lives of hundreds of seniors in need. This is what can happen when we are open to the impossible, when we are open to using our gifts in partnership with God’s power. The impossible does not need to be a 107-unit apartment building. It can be teaching Sunday school, being a Covenant partner, praying at a meeting or Bible study, or any of hundreds of other things. My challenge for all of us this morning then is this, to ask ourselves, “How am I being open to the impossible? To being open to God doing something amazing through me?” The Rev. Dr. John Judson
October 10, 2021 Listen Watch Service Watch Sermon Print Version Exodus 2:23-25; James 1:19-25 “Dad ... daad ... daaad! ... Dr. Judson!” “What?” Those words are one of the great stories of our family. Our daughter Katie, aged five at the time, was trying to get my attention, but I was mesmerized by my newspaper (remember those?), and I was not listening to her. That event always comes to my mind when I consider the difficulty of listening to others. It may be that you have never noticed the same thing ... how difficult it is to listen ... to listen to family, friends, or strangers. But for many of us we have become aware of how hard it is to listen when we are constantly bombarded with sounds, images, commercials, noise, and of course, our electronic devices. Our phones, computers, and iPads are constantly directing our attention to them and away from those to whom we ought to be listening. And the more ubiquitous those devices become, the more difficult it is to listen. Yet, I have to say that regardless of how hard it is to listen in our modern, busy, and noisy world it is still easier than listening like God listens. It may be that few of us have ever taken the time to consider how God listens. We simply believe that God listens. But I want us to spend a few moments considering this idea ... and then I will later tell you why. So how does God listen? The answer can be found in our Exodus story that we read this morning. First, God listens to those who are in distress even when they do not cry out to God directly. What do I mean? If you look at the story, the Hebrews simply cry out. They don’t cry out specifically to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; yet God hears them. God hears the cries of those in distress because of their bondage. Second, God’s listening causes God to remember. Granted this can seem like a strange idea, God remembering as if God forgets. Yet, what it means is that the cries of the people caused God to remember God’s commitments to them; that God had promised to bless them and to bless the world through them. Third, God’s listening caused God to act. We know God acted on what God heard and on what God remembered because God would soon (in the story) begin the process of setting the people free. Why is knowing how God listens important? Because if we listen to James, he tells us that we are supposed to listen like God. Listening like God forms the context for the part of James’ letter we read this morning. I say this because James begins with the command, “Let everyone be quick to listen.” In other words, the members of Jesus’ family are supposed to make “listening” their priority. Listening is supposed to help define who they are and what they do. Granted, over the centuries there have been a wide variety of ways in which this “listening” has been interpreted. Some have said it means listening to church leaders ... obviously put forward by church leaders. Others have said it means listening to God’s word ... which would make sense, since the scriptures are central to the life of God’s people. Others have said listening means listening directly to God ... again a good possibility since prayer was at the heart of the community. But I would argue that when James challenges people to listen, that he means is listening to those in distress, the widow, the orphan, the poor, and the stranger, even when they do not cry out directly to us. I say this first because James is a good Messianic Jew, who is rooted and grounded in the stories of Torah which center on God listening not only to God’s people but to those whom society forgets to care for. I say this second, because of where James goes after calling people to listen ... he calls them to remember who they are to be ... the righteousness of God. Immediately following James’ command to listen he says that people are to be slow to speak or become angry because those two actions do not produce God’s righteousness. God’s righteousness in Jewish thought is not a codeword for personal moral perfection. It is instead a codeword for imitating God ... for following in God’s way ... for reflecting the character, covenant faithfulness, and righteousness of God into the world. And if God’s righteousness is listening to those in distress; those whom society oppresses or forgets, then listening is the way to achieve that. In the same thought, James says that we are to be slow to speak and slow to anger because they don’t lead us into God’s righteousness. This is so because speaking more than listening and being angry close off our ability to listen; they put the one speaking or being angry at the center of attention, rather than those to whom God’s people are supposed to listen. This then reflects God’s remembering ... that just as God’s listening causes God to remember God’s commitment to the Hebrew people, so too our listening is intended to cause us to remember our commitment to be God’s righteousness in the world; to be those who care passionately about those who are in distress. Finally, this listening and remembering, or listening producing righteousness, moves us to the final stage of listening, and that is action. James puts it this way, “But be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves.” For James, listening as God listens is supposed to lead not only to a remembering of our commitments to those on the margins, but to action that serves them; that attempts to offer them a piece of the social, economic, and religious pie. It is intended to bring shalom to all persons and not simply to those who are at the top of the economic heap. At this point though, James offers what to many seems like a strange idea ... that not being a doer is like looking into a mirror and forgetting rather than remembering. One way to think about this is to remember the last time you looked up how to do something on the internet. Then you waited a while before you tried to do it. And if you are like me, you have forgotten much of what you were supposed to do. On the other hand, if I were to do something immediately after seeing the instructions, I remember it much better the next time. In other words, doing something aids remembering how to do it. What James is trying to help us do is set up a positive feedback loop. We listen to the needs of those in distress, which leads to remembering our commitments to God , which leads to action, which leads to better listening, better remembering, more action and so on. If we want to see how this works, all we need to do is look at our Matthew 25 initiative. We began by listening to the distress of our siblings of color. Then we remembered our commitments to be a community of love and justice. Then we began to act ... to be doers and not just hearers. I wish I could say that the voices of our siblings of color are the only ones crying out in distress. But I can’t because all around us are voices crying out: the voices of our LGBTQIA+ siblings, and especially those in the Trans community, the voices of those dealing with depression and mental illness, the voices of those who are being evicted from their homes and apartments, those who are homeless and hungry. The voices are all around us. The question then becomes, will we listen, remember and act? My challenge to us for this day then is this, to ask ourselves, am I listening like God, listening to those in this world who are crying out in distress, then remembering who I am and then acting to make a difference in their lives? The Rev. Dr. John Judson
October 3, 2021 Listen Watch Service Watch Sermon Print Version Exodus 2:16-22; Mark 3:31-35 Have you ever felt like you don’t belong? Have you ever felt like you were all alone? Have you ever felt like there was no one who understood you? Have you ever felt like the Michigan fan who finally scored a ticket to the Michigan-Michigan State game, but your seat was in the middle of the Michigan State band? If you have ever felt that way you know exactly how Moses felt in our morning’s story. To understand this, let’s recap Moses’ life to this point. When Moses was an infant, his Hebrew mother placed him in a basket hoping against hope that he would not be killed by Pharaoh’s forces. Through an act of caring, baby Moses was saved by the daughter of the Pharaoh. Moses is nursed by his Hebrew mother and then raised in the palace as an Egyptian. His name carries both Egyptian and Hebrew meanings. He knows he is an outsider in the palace even though he dresses and acts like an Egyptian. One day when Moses wanders out of the palace, he kills an Egyptian who is abusing a Hebrew, perhaps because he feels some kinship with the Hebrew. The next day though, Hebrew slaves essentially threaten to turn him in to the authorities. Moses then flees Egypt. Moses is a man without a country, a family, or an identity. This is where our story picks up this morning. Moses, a very confused young man, is wandering in the wilderness and comes upon a well. At the well are some Midianite women who had come to draw water for their father’s flocks. Some other shepherds drive the woman and their flocks away. Moses, being a man of justice, intervenes, drives off the shepherds and helps the women water their flocks. The women return home and tell their father, Reuel, about the incident at the well. Reuel is appalled that his daughters did not show appropriate hospitality and invite their Egyptian protector home. Now a brief word about hospitality. Hospitality, simply put, is treating a stranger like family, or helping an outside become an insider. This is something that was commonly practiced among most desert cultures. Reuel tells his daughters to go and get the man. Moses is quickly not only treated like family, but he is also made family through marriage. It would be nice to say that this act of hospitality allowed Moses to find himself and he lived happily ever after as a Midianite, but this is not so. And we know this is not so because of the name he gave his first son, Gershom, meaning, “I am an alien who has been and continues to reside in a foreign land.” In some ways Moses was now even more confused. Was he Hebrew, Egyptian, or Midianite? Two questions that the book of Exodus forces us to ask then are, does Moses ever find his forever family and does he ever feel like he belongs? The answers to these questions are only found thirty chapters later in Exodus…and we shall turn to them now. For most of the Book of Exodus, the answers to these two questions are no. Moses is the ultimate outsider. He is not accepted by the Egyptians. He is not fully accepted and is looked on with suspicion by the Hebrews. In fact, whenever things go badly for Moses in his dealings with the new Pharaoh or with the Hebrews, Moses says to God, these Hebrews are your people, I have had enough of them. It is as if Moses sees himself as a turn-around CEO with no long-term connection to the company. But that will all change because of the great Golden Calf incident. The Golden Calf incident begins simply enough. Moses has gone up the mountain to get some more rules and regulations from God. The people watch him ascend and the fire and smoke of God descend. For a while the people are patient, waiting for Moses to return. When he doesn’t, they decide they need a new leader and a new God. They choose Aaron for their leader and quickly manufacture Golden Calf for their God. With those actions the Hebrew people have divorced God. They have chosen to be strangers and outsiders to God. They have declared that they are no longer God’s children, God’s family. To say the least, God is not pleased with this turn of events and so makes Moses an offer. “Moses”, God says, “Listen, these people have divorced me, and so I will start over with you and your family and make a great nation of you. How does that sound?” In that moment, something happens inside Moses. I would argue that he remembers his struggle to find a forever family and how impactful was Reuel’s offer of hospitality. And so Moses asks God for an act of radical hospitality. Moses asks God to forgive the Hebrews and welcome them back home; to turn these strangers into family and these outsiders into insiders. In one of the Bible’s greatest acts of hospitality, God does so and that action changes Moses. I say this because for the first time in Exodus, Moses refers to the people as “us” and “we”. It is in that act of God’s radical hospitality that Moses finds his forever family. It is that same kind of radical hospitality that is at the heart of our Jesus story out of Mark this morning. The people gathered around Jesus are outsiders. As Galileans they are looked down upon by other Jews. They are ridiculed for their accents. They have been dispossessed by the wealthy of their lands. They wonder if they are still part of God’s family. And so, when Jesus’ family arrives and tells Jesus it is time for him to come home and resume his duties as the eldest child, he uses it as a teachable moment about hospitality. He says, pointing to the crowd, “Here are my mother and my brothers. Whoever does the will of God is my brother, sister and mother.” This is the radical hospitality of God. All are welcome. All are invited. All can find their forever family in and through Jesus. This my friends, is who God is. God is the God of hospitality. God is the God of open arms. This, my friends, is also what this table is all about. This is the table of radical hospitality. This is the meal of forever family. This is the moment when Jesus opens his arms wide and invites all who feel like they are outsiders, to come inside. This is the moment when Jesus opens his arms wide and makes strangers into family. So, if you are feeling as if you are alone; as if you have no family, as if you are an outsider; then come to the table and find your forever family. My challenge to you this morning is this, when we take the elements to say, “I am home. I am loved. I have found my forever family.” The Rev. Bethany Peerbolte
September 26, 2021 Listen Watch Service Watch Sermon Print Version Exodus 2:1-4; Ecclesiastes 11:1-6 Our basic beliefs make a huge difference in the way we operate day-to-day. For example, we will treat people very differently depending on if we believe people are at their core, good, or if we have a belief that humans have a natural flaw, an origin of sin. If we believe humans are essentially bad by nature we will expect evil from others and put up all kinds of protections to keep ourselves from anticipated harm. On the other hand, if we think humans were created and God declared them “very good” then things like trust and respect come much quicker to relationships. These kinds of basic beliefs can significantly impact our choices in life sometimes without us even noticing. Another belief that can greatly affect the way we live is if we believe God will only give us what we can handle. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it never says anything close to that in scripture. If anything, scripture hints heavily that a life of faith is hard, even more, it tells us we should expect hardships, and doing hard things are signs we are living by faith. Now I get why “God will only give you what you can handle” thrives even though scripture says otherwise. “God will only give you what you can handle” is a much prettier package to sell to others and looks much nicer on the mantle to motivate us in our daily faith walk. I think one reason this brand of sweetened theology thrives is that as we read scripture, we already know all the spoilers. We know what Mary will find at the tomb on Easter Sunday, we know the first time God asks Noah to build an ark it’s a good idea, we know when Moses’ mother puts her baby boy into a basket in the river that a princess will find him and will live happily ever after…ish. We know things turn out okay, so “God will only give you what you can handle” seems like it fits all these stories. Unfortunately, for the people in the story when it was first being lived they would not have felt like they could “handle” these things. If we wash away all our knowledge of the next few pages we can see that the truth is “things will be hard.” Let’s try to shed all our knowledge of Moses and meet his mother for the first time. We pick up in Exodus with a law harmfully impacting the lives of the Israelites. The law says that the firstborn son of every family must be killed. This is a daily reality for the people and many are facing the hardships this law mandates. Then we focus on one mother who is facing the unimaginable. She has given birth to a baby. It’s a boy - her first boy. This should be a cause for celebration, but the minute he is born panic sets into the family. His father is nowhere to be found, probably trying to distance himself as much as possible so he does not bond with the doomed child. His young sister is vaguely aware of the threat. The most she can grasp is that her parents are afraid and people are not stopping by with good wishes. The mother, through all her anxiety, hangs on to hope, foolish hope, but hope nonetheless. This mother has no idea how to save her son. She has watched all her friends fail to save their sons. They tried escaping, they tried disguises, they tried lying, but every time the boys met the same end. Then one day, a wild idea comes to her, out of her foolish hope, she considers the option to weave a basket, cover it in pitch and tar, put her 3-month-old child into the basket, and let the basket float in the river while she goes about her day. This is the part where we let spoilers gloss over her reality. She does not know what will happen to the baby. She knows the waters are fairly steady, that things get trapped and hidden in the reeds all the time, the baby may be safe. But she also knows the animals that eat from that water, and the hazards of the rapids should the basket get rocked loose. Knowing all this, and that the powerful authority wants to kill her child she does the hardest things she has ever had to do. She leaves her child in a makeshift floaty tucked away on the unpredictable waters with only the foolish hope that maybe he will still be there when she gets back and she can kiss his face one more time. I pity anyone who tells that woman walking away from her baby that “God will only give you what you can handle.” This is not something she can handle. The mothers I know barely let their newborns out of their sight let alone handle what this mother has done. This story clearly tells us things will be hard; even for righteous people, even for people God loves and has chosen to birth great leaders; even for those who pray enough and give enough and attend worship enough and volunteer enough. Even for us, things will be hard. God does not regulate how much we can handle and turn the faucet of hardship just to that amount. I wish it was so, but God does not step in and keep this mother from doing the hardest of things. NO. What God does is honors her work of doing something hard by providing a rescue in that river. That river the mother steps into which represents her terror becomes the thing that saves the baby. Because she was willing to do the hard thing she got more than she could ever imagine. God honors those who are willing to do hard things. As I was reflecting on hard things in life my mind kept drifting to moments we have to examine our own inner selves, our beliefs and truths, our biases and assumptions. There is something about admitting we don’t know it all that is exceptionally hard for humans. God forbid we have to admit we were straight-up wrong about something! Making these kinds of admissions is very much like taking our pride and placing it into a basket and leaving ourselves vulnerable to whatever might come down that river. Humans do not like to admit when we are wrong. We do not like to acknowledge something we said or a belief we held was not the truth. We avoid it at every cost. Businesses are making millions off of this reality. Google feeds you the articles it thinks you want based on the majority demographic around you. Search the same question in different demographic parts of the country and you will get different results. TikTok wants you to stay on the app as long as possible, so it only sends you videos it already thinks you will like. These juggernauts don’t want to challenge you, they know humans run away from challenging information. Google and TikTok are never going to ask you to do hard things. They will reinforce what you already think you know. One reason my mind went to moments where we have to reexamine an inner reality is that I am obsessed with people who leave cults. I have watched every documentary at least twice on every organization that has been accused of being a cult. It is especially incredible to me how children raised inside a cult can suddenly realize their reality is off. I am in awe of the stories of those who leave cults because they have done one of the hardest things. They allowed new information to challenge their reality and found a way to ignore the raging beast that says, “ I AM RIGHT” and changed something essential about themselves so they could be better. Listening to their stories, it is apparent how hard it is to change but also how little it takes to crack the facade. Many of their stories shift in one great moment of realization. They may have been gathering information for a while but the moment they choose to acknowledge that they maybe aren’t right, their whole world shifts. They build their baskets with articles and conversations with outsiders weaving together information that is contrary to the cults’ narrative. Their curiosity becomes doubt and questions coat their old reality. One person described it as a dark space where they didn’t know which way was up or down, just floating in a void. The easy thing to do at that moment is to abandon the process. To grab our pride back out of the baskets and double down on old beliefs and go back to the comfortable way of before. Those who choose to do the harder way eventually get to that final piece of the puzzle, the rescue, that removes the cover from their eyes, and the light of truth shines in on them. To continue moving in the darkness of life, letting new information challenge our reality, is the hardest thing a human can do. The writer of Ecclesiastes knows this too. “Sow your seed in the morning, and at evening let your hands not be idle, for you do not know which will succeed, whether this or that, or whether both will do equally well.” These verses beg us to keep moving forward even in the hard times because something will succeed. God does not promise to give us an easy path but every story in scripture reminds us that God provides a rescue. God honors those who do the hard things and often it takes someone risking, taking the hard path for God’s people to move forward. We Presbyterians have a phrase we like to use when hard decisions are being made. We say, “If the way be made clear,” this phrase, however, relies on a belief that God will only give us what we are ready to handle. The votes on every hard decision will only go the way God’s people are willing to go. But what if we are being asked to step onto a hard path? Will enough of us vote to do the harder thing? The way was not clear to Noah when he started building an ark. The way was not clear to Mary when she headed out to the tomb. The way was not clear when Moses’ mother placed him in the water. Sometimes the way is hard. And that is exactly the way God’s will is directing us. We need to do hard things. Our congregation has decided to do a hard thing. We have chosen to be a Matthew 25 church and examine our understanding of racism and poverty in our community. We will have to put our pride into that makeshift basket and set it afloat if we hope to achieve God’s will in this. This past week we launched ourselves into learning about what systemic racism is, and over the next few months the Matthew 25 workgroup has invited incredible speakers to challenge our understanding of the systems we participate in. This is a hard thing for our community, but we can do hard things. God will be with us as we learn, as we listen, and as we lean into new stories and new understandings. I expect to feel punched in the gut a few times, but those hard realizations will help me love more and understand God more. Please, no matter what your first reaction is to being asked to understand systemic racism, we need to do THIS hard thing. In a lot of ways this river that we are placing our baskets into represents our greatest fears, but what if the rescue for us, you and me, for this church, for this community is in this direction? Then we need to be the people who trust enough in God to do this hard thing. I hope you will join us for more of these Matthew 25 discussions so we can do this hard thing together knowing God’s rescue is waiting to scoop us up on the other side of the reeds. The Rev. Dr. John Judson
September 19, 2021 Listen Watch Service Watch Sermon Print Version Exodus 2:5-10; Matthew 6:25-33 It should never have happened. It should never, ever have happened. There is no way that a Princess of Egypt should have picked up a Hebrew child, turned him over to a Hebrew nursing mother, brought him into the palace and named him, Moses, or “son.” This should never have happened for two reasons. First, it should never have happened because the Pharaoh, the king of Egypt, had commanded that all of his subjects, including his daughter, were to throw all newborn Hebrew boys into the Nile so that they would drown. This command was not a suggestion but an order; an order intended to, slowly but surely, eliminate the Hebrew people. The second reason the princess should not have taken the baby out of the ark in which he was floating was that the Egyptian gods couldn’t have cared less about this child. I say that because in Egyptian religion, people did not matter. They were simply pawns in the great birthing and dying sequence that played itself out generation after generation along the great river. So, our first question of the day is, “Why did the princess do it? Why did the princess save this child?” The most obvious answer to this question seems to be given to us in the passage. In verse six: “When she opened the ark, she saw the child. He was crying and she took pity on him.” The obvious answer then, is that the princess had pity on the child. To most of us, this would seem appropriate. We have all taken pity on someone; a lost child, someone who is homeless or hungry. This answer resonates with us. Yet I would offer that this is not the correct answer. The correct answer is that the princess cared. I realize that the difference between these two words may seem like nothing more than semantics. But let me explain. Pity is a feeling. Pity is a feeling that can elicited by any number of encounters. As I said a moment ago, it can be triggered by a lost child, hungry people, or those whose lives have been upended by natural disasters. Yet, pity is not action. Let me ask, how many of you have felt pity for someone yet not done anything about it? Caring, on the other hand, as it is used in scripture is not the emotion of someone saying to us, “I really care about you,” meaning they have feelings for us. Caring in the scripture means life-affirming actions. This definition then leads us to our second question, which is, why did she care? Why was her pity turned into caring? Why was her emotional response to this child turned into action? Again, this would seem to be out of character for an Egyptian princess whose entire life had been lived in a political and religious environment in which all people, much less Hebrew people, had any particular value. Why did she care? I would argue that she cared because she was designed to care. Let me explain. When we read these stories from Exodus, we are not reading them as if they are individual tales told without context. Instead, they are part of the total package of the Torah, the first five books of the scriptures. What this means is that we are reading this story in the context of the opening story of Genesis, where God creates human beings in God’s own image. By creating us in God’s own image, God is creating human beings who are not only capable, but are designed to care because God is a caring God. In other words, if God cares about this world, meaning that God acts in life-affirming ways toward this world, then those who are created in God’s image are designed to do the same. Thus the princess was designed to engage in life-affirming actions. This concept that God is a God who cares, who acts in life-affirming ways, is at the center of Jesus’ words in the portion of the Sermon on the Mount we read this morning. What Jesus is sharing with those gathered to listen to him is that God does more than feel kindly toward God’s people. God not only knows what the people need when they are hungry and afraid, but, Jesus implies, God will give it to them. God will provide. In so doing Jesus is taking these people back to the great stories of Exodus. Jesus is reminding them that God heard the cries of God’s people in captivity and set them free. Jesus is reminding them that in the wilderness when the people were thirsty, God provided water and when the people were hungry, God provided quail and manna. The God that Jesus represents to those who gather on the mountain is one who cares, who engages in life-affirming actions so that God’s people do not have to worry or be afraid. Instead, they can focus on striving for the Kingdom, which means being people who care, who engage in life-affirming actions. This belief then leads to our final question of the morning. “If God cares and has designed us and empowered us to care, why is it that so many people don’t care? Why is it that so many people, rather than engaging in life-affirming acts, engage in death-bringing acts?” This answer is complex and multi-faceted. For our purposes this morning I would simply say that over time, the image of God has been diminished in humanity as a whole and in human beings individually. What I mean is this ability to care has been eroded by fear, anger, hate, envy and any other negative attribute you can name. These death-dealing ways slowly but surely extinguish the image of God. Thus, when people are victims of abuse, hatred, anger or are trapped in systems that do them harm, the image of God within them can be hard to find. Yet, as John Calvin reminds us in his Institutes of the Christian Religion, the image of God is never completely extinguished. While it may go underground, it can never be fully lost and the possibility that this image can be reclaimed and with it the ability and the impetus to care is always present. The image of God is like the pilot light Cindy and I have in our gas-log fireplace. It is always on, barely seen, yet with some additional fuel, it can create a blazing fire. This possibility, that the image of God and the call to care can be salvaged is why this church matters. For you see, we are a community of caring. We are a community that is founded upon God’s caring for the world in Jesus Christ. We are a community that is constantly caring here in this building, in the community, the country, and the world. We care through life-affirming actions for those who are homeless, hungry, and in need. And by so doing, we keep the image of God alive and active in ourselves and others. We remind one another that we are to be a people who care. We encourage one another when it seems as if life is beating us down and diminishing God's image within us. So I want to thank you for being that community of caring. I want to thank you because the world needs communities like ours, that not only feel pity for those in need, but do something about it. We care. My challenge to you for this coming week is this, to ask yourselves, how am I caring for others because the image of God is alive and well within me? The Rev. Dr. John Judson
September 12, 2021 Listen Watch Service Watch Sermon Print Version Exodus 1:8-22; Matthew 18:1-11 Twenty years ago today the skies were silent and empty. All domestic air travel had been canceled. People were trying to rent cars to drive home from distant destinations. We watched in horror as time after time the images of the twin towers collapsing were being burned into our brains. Then there were the ongoing broadcasts of first responders hoping against hope that survivors would be found. There were desperate families seeking loved ones who had gone to work in the towers as if it were another day and had not been heard from. There were the pictures and stories of those who made last minute calls to family before their lives were lost. In all of that we knew we had seen the face of evil. We had seen the face of evil, meaning that we had seen human beings who were willing to kill themselves to extinguish the image of God in other human beings. For that is what evil is. It is the intentional destruction of the image of God in others, meaning that evil can be seen in the taking of thousands of lives at the twin towers, or in the actions of an online troll who uses social media to destroy the lives and reputation of those they don’t like. Evil is about diminishing or destroying the image of God in others. Almost immediately the questions began. We wanted to find out who these people were who could do such a thing. We wanted to know how these people had evaded detection while training in the US. We wanted to know who recruited them, funded them, and sent them. We wanted to know who was to blame so that we could deal with them appropriately. But the one thing that did not get a great deal of thought was how did these men come to participate in such a great evil. What I mean by this is that these men were not born as haters of the West. They had ordinary childhoods without any great trauma. So how is it that they could be so swept up in Al Qaeda, that they were willing to kill themselves and thousands of people they did not know, whom they had never met, and who had never done them any harm? Or to put it simply, how does evil do this? How does evil grow? I ask, not out of morbid curiosity or for some academic purpose. I ask instead because if we know how evil grows then maybe we can find a way to short circuit its power; to offer the world a counter narrative so that instead of evil there is good. To discover how evil grows I offer our text from Exodus as a template, because I believe that was its intent. The intent was to help God’s people understand how easy it was for evil to grow and flourish, so they might avoid it. So here is the narrative of the growth of evil. Evil often begins with a single individual who believes that they should possess all power; in this case Pharoah, whom the text implies has taken power by overthrowing his predecessor. Evil grows then through a series of steps. First, the one seeking to consolidate their power needs an “other” or an “enemy” on whom to focus. In this case the “other/enemy” is the Israelite people, and by the way this is the first time the Hebrews are referred to as a people. Second, it is necessary that the “others/enemies” become an object of fear. Pharoah does this well by telling his people that the Hebrews are more numerous and powerful than the Egyptians…both of which are lies. Third, this fear then gives Pharoah an excuse to oppress the Hebrews, which allows the Egyptians to see the Hebrews as less than human. They are more like animals used for labor. Finally, because the Hebrews are less than human it allows Pharoah to propose killing all the male boys, first at birth by the midwives, but then by the entire population. Evil has grown, spread, and infected the entire populace. I would argue that it was this same narrative that was followed by Bin Laden prior to the 9-11 attacks. The question then becomes, is there a way in which this progression of evil could be short circuited? Is there a counter-narrative to that of the growth of evil? The answer to these questions is yes and yes. And to find it, we need look no farther than two women, the Hebrew midwives named Shiphrah and Puah. They are enlisted in Pharaoh’s evil scheme to kill all the male children so that the Hebrew people could not rise against him and so that the girl children could be married to Egyptians and bear Egyptian children. This command of Pharoah left the women with three options. First, they could go along with the narrative of evil and kill the children. Second, they could resign and allow someone else to do the killing. Or three, they could choose to write a new narrative, one of protecting the vulnerable, which is the choice they made. They would lie to the king. They would risk their lives, but they could protect the vulnerable. This is a different narrative because it says that the children are not “others/enemies.” It says that the children and their parents are fully human. It says that these children deserve life and not death. And the women made this choice because they feared God. Fear here does not mean fear of punishment. Fear here means having awe and respect for God. They understood God to be one that cares for every life, Hebrew or Egyptian. In these actions they not only short circuit evil they create a new narrative…the narrative of protecting the vulnerable. This, for those women, is the narrative of those who fear God. This sermon series is about doing the will of God, and at the heart of God’s will is protecting the vulnerable. I say this not only because of what Shiphrah and Puah did but because protection of the vulnerable is one of the great narratives of Torah and of the life and work of Jesus. We can see this in the Law of Moses, reading from Exodus 22, “You shall not wrong or oppress a resident alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt. You shall not abuse any widow or orphan…If you lend money to my people, to the poor among you, you shall not deal with them as a creditor; you shall not exact interest from them. If you take your neighbor’s cloak in pawn, you shall restore it before the sun goes down; for it may be your neighbor’s only clothing to use as cover; in what else shall that person sleep? And if your neighbor cries out to me, I will listen, for I am compassionate.” The counter narrative of protecting the vulnerable applies to how God’s people are to treat foreigners who live among them, widows and orphans who have no one to protect them, and to the poor who have limited resources. Jesus continues this narrative when he tells the story of the separation of human beings into sheep and goats, with the sheep at God’s right hand and the goats at God’s left hand. Those who sit at God’s right hand are those who have protected the vulnerable hungry by giving them food; the vulnerable thirsty by giving them something to drink; the vulnerable homeless by taking them in; the vulnerable prisoner by visiting them; and the vulnerable sick, by caring for them. Narratives are powerful. They can shape lives, communities, and nations. The narThe narrative of God, the narrative of God driven by God’s will, is the protection of the vulnerable.rative of evil is that there are “others/enemies” who are less than human and deserve to be diminished and destroyed. It is a narrative that seeks to eliminate the image of God from those to whom God has given it. This narrative helps to rescue and enlarge the image of God in all human beings, by seeing none as the other, seeing none to be feared, seeing none to be oppressed or destroyed, but seeing every person as the object of God’s and our love, compassion, and care. It is this narrative that calls us then to be intentional in our protection of the vulnerable, for the vulnerable are all around us. They can be children in the Foster Care system. They can be adults with disabilities. They can be the poor who are often forced into borrowing from lenders who charge excessive rates of interest. They can be children with inadequate educational opportunities. They can be families who live without health insurance or adequate housing. They can be the homeless who struggle with mental illness, and a lack of support services and affordable housing. They can be those who have come to our nation from Afghanistan seeking a better life. The challenge for us then is to ask ourselves first, which of these narratives are we choosing? Then ask ourselves second, if I am choosing the narrative of protecting the vulnerable, how am I living that out in my life? |
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