Sermons: July 2022

Sunday, July 31, 2022

The Blessing of Abundance

July 31, 2022
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Leviticus 25:1-4, 18-24; Luke 12:16-20 [1]

I arrived in Chicago in the fall of 2003 to begin seminary. After a few weeks, I received a care package from my home church. Alone in my apartment, I opened the package. In it were some cards from church members with words of encouragement, a tourist book about the city, and a box of brownies. Two dozen brownies! What a blessing! They were moist and sticky, and they smelled so good. I immediately ate two of them, savoring the rich chocolate flavor. Then, I closed up the box and set them in my refrigerator to store them.

As the days passed, when I was feeling lonely, I would eat a brownie and think about my good fortune – having so many good brownies to eat. I didn’t eat one every day, and so they would sit in the fridge, safely tucked away, slowly getting stale and dried out. After a couple of weeks, the remaining brownies were pretty hard, and they no longer tasted very good. I had to throw away the last few stale brownies. I was still lonely, and now I had no more brownies.

I don’t think of myself as a rich man. My wife and I manage to pay our bills each month, keep food on the table, keep our kids active, and get regular check-ups. But our parents helped us buy or home and cars, the kids are the only ones with new clothes, and we have more debt than savings. The thing is, we have a storage unit, and it is just jammed with stuff. There’s an old TV, the kids’ old toys, some of my old toys, boxes of books, boxes of old clothes, and furniture we don’t have room for in the house.

I’m running out of places to put all this stuff. What should I do? Sell it and give the money to the poor, right? Or at least donate it to Goodwill or a rummage sale. But I really like some of that stuff, and it might be useful someday. Maybe if I just build a bigger basement, or get another storage unit.

People hold on to a lot of things, not just objects that fit (or not) in the storage room. We hold on to regrets and mistakes from our past. We hold on to the idea that life can be pain-free, and happiness is only one more purchase away. We hold on to stereotypes, “facts” that have been proven false, and even people who try to control us with negativity. We are prisoners of this stuff, and it keeps us from entering the kingdom of God.

An abundance of possessions can do funny things to us. We can become infected with greed. We can become angry – paranoid that someone will take what is ours. We hoard up our good things and push people away so that they won't take our things away from us. We push people away, and pull our stuff closer to us.

The man in the parable has been blessed with an abundant harvest. It was amazing! The harvest was so good that all of his barns could not contain it. Where could he store all of his things? He decided to tear down his barns and build larger ones that could store all of his abundant harvest of grain, and all of his good things. He was satisfied with himself – at least until God came calling. God points out his foolishness. He has pushed away the people around him, and pulled his stuff closer. The man tries to tell himself “Relax, eat, drink, be merry.” But the words are hollow sounding, and in his heart, he does not feel merry; rather, he feels nervous, empty, lonely.

Greed leads us to the belief that the good things in this world are limited. No more brownies are coming in the mail; I need to store them so that I can prolong the comfort they give. I might need those old books stashed away in a box in my basement. The fields won't produce enough grain next year; I need to store up what I have for myself.

Now God enters into the parable with a warning. “You fool! The blessing of the harvest wasn’t for you alone – the blessing of the harvest belongs to the community.” The abundant harvest is really a special blessing. In the book of Leviticus, we read how the land will produce abundantly during the sixth year in preparation for the seventh year of Sabbath for the land. “I will order my blessing for you in the sixth year, so that [the land] will yield a crop for three years” says the Lord. (Leviticus 25:21).

A New Testament Professor named Bernard Brandon Scott wrote a book entitled Hear Then the Parable.[2] In his study of this parable, Scott suggests that the rich man perceives the good things he possesses as limited. Scott tells us, “If one person hoards wealth, there will be none left to go around. If there is a surplus today, there must be a shortage tomorrow.” By saving up his harvest to provide for his own comfort, the rich man “offends against the community’s possibilities, wastes God’s gifts, and ensures the impoverishment of others.” The land has brought forth an abundant harvest, but it is not for the rich man to keep for himself. The harvest is meant to provide for the needs of the community while the land is fallow during the Sabbath year. The man in the parable, by hoarding the harvest for himself, turns his back on his neighbors. He pushes away the people of the community and pulls his stuff closer.

The man in the parable has made a crucial misunderstanding. He thinks that the blessings of God are limited. There are only so many blessings to go around; better store them up! He does not understand the nature of God.

The blessings of God are not limited! Luke tells us that when Jesus was faced with a large, hungry crowd in a deserted place, with only five loaves and two fish, “he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke them, and gave them to the disciples to set before the crowd. And all ate and were filled” (Luke 9:16-17). God’s blessing was enough to provide food for more than five thousand people!

The blessings of God are not limited, and they are given to us so that we might share them with others. When we share our goods with others, what does that feel like?

At couple of years ago, we used some of our discretionary funds – a gift from the Lions Club – to pay for a truck to come to Union from the Food Depository. People from our church gathered over at the Lutheran Church to distribute boxes of food to people in need, many of whom had lost jobs due to COVID. We worked together, had fun, saw the smiles on the faces of those we helped, and it felt great!

As we make our pledges each year to the church, as we support the MORE food pantry, Turning Point, PADS, and the Heifer Project, we are sharing the abundance with which God has blessed us all. When we give out of our abundance to our church, to our neighbors, to our community, there is a feeling of joy, of celebration. Had I shared those brownies that came in my care package, I might have made some new friends, and been able to celebrate the blessing of the brownies. If I manage to donate some of my stored stuff this year, I know that there will be people who need what I have to give. When the crops come with abundance, the harvest celebration begins.

The blessings of God are not limited. When we share what we have, when we share out of the abundance of our things, we draw people together in celebration. When we share our stuff, we pull people together.

God gives blessings in abundance, without limits. God gives us life itself, and not only that. In Jesus Christ, the stone of human limitations was rolled away so that we might all share in the abundance of eternal life. Life without limits; enough life to share with everyone, enough for a celebration of the abundant blessing that God has given to us.

My friend Chris Marlin-Warfield, a minister in Iowa, wrote a book entitled Radical Charity. In it he says that the church is “a little piece of the kingdom of God here in a broken world; a place and a community where people can see what the world could be like.” We have an amazing opportunity, “to be, however imperfectly, the world as God wants it to be. And that world is one that is full of agape, of caritas, of love, of charity.”[3]

We are not called to tear down our barns and build larger ones to store all of our wealth for ourselves. We are called share the abundance of God’s blessing. We are called to give food to the hungry, to shelter the homeless, to clothe the naked. We are called to share the good news that God’s blessings are not limited. We are greatly blessed, so let us be a great blessing. Amen.

[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

[2] Bernard Brandon Scott, Hear Then the Parable: A Commentary on the Parables of Jesus (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1989), 137.

[3] Christopher Marlin-Warfield, Radical Charity: How Generosity Can Save the World (And the Church) (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2019), 171. Available from: https://wipfandstock.com/radical-charity.html

Sunday, July 24, 2022

Pray Without Ceasing

July 24, 2022
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Luke 11:1-13 [1]

What comes to mind when you think of prayer? Do you pray the rosary? Do you recite The Lord’s Prayer? Do you simply whisper “God, help me!”? Prayer is often thought of as speaking words to God, asking for what we need, and, usually, in lofty, poetic language. But that definition of prayer is, I think, too narrow. I think of prayer as anything that nurtures our relationship with God. If taking a walk in a forest nurtures your relationship with God, that is prayer. If reading scripture deepens your connection with the holy, that is prayer. If sharing a meal with a friend brings you closer to the sacred, that is prayer. Caring for others, listening to music, watching a sunset – all these can be prayer.

The title of this sermon comes from 1 Thessalonians 5:17, at the conclusion of Paul’s letter encouraging the church in Thessalonica to continue in their work. To pray without ceasing is to remain constantly in conversation with God. It does not mean to walk around on your knees with your eyes closed, your head bowed, and your hands folded. It does not mean to be constantly talking to yourself or mumbling under your breath. It does mean to be watching, listening, asking, receiving and consciously remaining in the presence of God as you move through life.

The disciples of Jesus were devout Jews, so they knew how to pray, and likely prayed often. But when they watched Jesus at prayer, and saw the consistency between his prayer life and all that he was doing and saying, they saw something deeper and more powerful than they had ever experienced in their own lives. They have been following Jesus for some time now, learning the lessons of the parables, watching the way he interacts with a wide range of people, and they are trying to be disciples – to follow their teacher and mold their lives to his model. Now they begin to see the deep and intimate relationship that Jesus has with God through prayer, and they long for that relationship themselves.

They ask Jesus to teach them to pray, as John the Baptizer taught his disciples. The distinctive prayers of a group in those days would have identified them as disciples of their leader. So, Jesus gives them a simple prayer that becomes characteristic of the Christian community; that is, it expresses the identity and longings of the church in all places and times, from its earliest days in the ancient Mediterranean world to this very Sunday, right here. This prayer, known as The Lord’s Prayer or the Prayer of Our Savior, has been spoken by every follower of Jesus since the first twelve.

All of us seek a better world that will come with God’s kingdom. We all need bread to eat, forgiveness from the wrongs we have done, and we all want to be saved from the trials we cannot bear. And we all yearn for that intimate relationship with God that is like that between a parent and child. It is a simple prayer, a bit less varnished here in Luke’s Gospel than the version we have memorized. It reaches into the core of our being and touches our deep needs, both those of our individual selves and those of our community. This is, after all, a communal prayer for our needs, all of us children of the one parent God.

We start by hallowing God’s name. Hallowed means “to be made sacred.” In the ancient world, a name expressed the nature of a person or place. The name of God is considered sacred by the Jews, so sacred that it is never pronounced. In ancient Hebrew manuscripts God’s name never contains the vowels. When it is read aloud, it is replaced with Adonai meaning “Lord” or Hashem meaning “the name.” In English translations it is indicated by the word Lord rendered in small capital letters. But when Jesus said that we should pray that the name of God be made sacred, we are really asking that the nature of God be made sacred or complete. God is the creator of the universe, and is holiness itself. God, may the holiness of all creation be made complete.

There is one focus for all the parables of Jesus – the kingdom of God. What is it like? The land of a rich man produced abundantly… A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho… A sower went out to sow… There was a man who had two sons… The reign of God is about forgiveness, liberation, justice, grace, starting over, good news for the poor, bread for the hungry, release for the captives. God, “Your kingdom come” and make all things new.

And speaking of bread for the hungry: “Give us each day our daily bread.” Not all the bread we can eat. Not everything that we desire. “Daily bread” means enough food to sustain life for today. In ancient times this was a challenge for most, and it remains so today for billions of people around the world, in our own nation, and even here in Union. Give us, every one of us children of the one parent God, the food we need to make it through today.

Forgive us, God. As we read through the ancient texts and our history books, we can’t seem to stop messing everything up. Sometimes we mess things up so badly that there is no going back to what once was, only the facing of a new and changed reality. And yet, as often as we are forgiven, as much as we take for granted the endless mercy and forgiveness of God, in the same breath we challenge ourselves to give the same grace to others. God, help us to forgive. Help us to let go of our own anger, hurt, fear, and resentment at the wrongs that have been done to us, and help us to embrace the freedom that comes from offering forgiveness.

“And do not bring us to the time of trial.” Honestly, God, we’re not ready. We didn’t study. We’re unprepared. We’re not ready to answer for what we have done. We’re not ready to face half of what the early Christians faced at the hands of the Romans. And we’re definitely not ready to take our own walk up Calvary. We know the trials will come, God, just… please, not yet.

And that’s it. Simple and to the point. But there is something more to this prayer that catches the imagination of the disciples. It starts with the very first word. Jesus addresses God as “father.” In Aramaic the word is abba, more closely translated as “daddy” or “papa”. This is not a distant, disinterested God who does not care for the little people, but rather the close and comfortable parent, who knows our needs before they are spoken and gives the good gifts that meet our deepest needs.

This intimate connection and dialogue with God was quite unusual in those days. Prayer and supplication to the gods was done in the high places, before the altar, in the Temple. To simply converse with God, to speak directly to God wherever and whenever you pleased, would have been striking. The disciples learned from Jesus that prayer is a conversation between us and a loving parent, a parent who listens to us, cares for us, forgives us, provides for us, and protects us. The disciples learned that no matter who you are, or where you are, right now God is listening, and perhaps, if we are patient, is speaking too.

There is an old John Denver song that touches on the two-way conversation that prayer is meant to be. “Talk to God and listen to the casual reply.”[2] It is not explicit in the biblical text, but I’m pretty sure Jesus listened to God as much as he spoke. How often do we listen when we pray? How long do we wait for an answer? We are more likely to simply say, “God, thank you for all the good things. Please help me with the bad things. OK, thanks for listening.” And then we go on to try working things out depending only on our own devices. We hardly stop to breathe when we pray, it seems.

Maybe it’s about trust. Do we really trust that there will be an answer? Or maybe, we already know the answer, and we don’t really want to hear it. After all, it is God we’re praying to. God knows what is on our hearts and minds, and all the ways in which we try to avoid doing what we know we should do.

Jesus gets at this issue of waiting for an answer by telling the story of the friend at midnight. Persistence is the method that will get the friend up out of bed to open the door. There will be an answer to your prayer, Jesus is saying, but you may need to keep asking and listening until you get that answer. Prayer is a faith practice, and practice means repetition, diligence, perseverance, and patience. And, of course, the answer may not be what you were expecting.

Ask, and it will be given you;
search, and you will find;
knock, and the door will be opened for you

As Luke tells it, God will give the Holy Spirit to those who ask. Now, this may not be the answer we were looking for. Neither was Jesus the messiah that people were expecting. But the Holy Spirit may be the answer we need. Remember, this is the prayer of the community – OUR Father, give US. This prayer is not a personal prayer but the prayer of a people waiting for the fire of the Holy Spirit to come and stir up new life in them. This prayer is our community calling out to God together, preparing ourselves to be transformed by the answer. So, when we pray The Lord’s Prayer, we should be prepared that what we have asked for will be given to us. There will be an answer. Is it just me, or is it a little warm in here? Amen.

Sunday, July 17, 2022

Worries and Distractions

July 17, 2022
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Luke 10:38-42 [1]

There has certainly been plenty to worry and distract a person lately. I often find it hard to focus on the task at hand. Even if I’m not actively trying to heal a broken world, comfort the afflicted, or advocate for a more humane society, it weighs on my mind. It is exhausting to live through a global pandemic, high inflation, a democracy under threat, and the erosion of the rights of those I love. And yet, the work of living day after day continues.

I imagine Martha had a lot on her mind as well. Jesus has arrived in town, and though she has welcomed him into her home, now there are seventy or so followers who need attending to. It may well be that Mary, her sister, was usually by her side managing the many tasks of a home filled with guests, but now she has left Martha to do all the work herself.

A similar scene likely played out in many homes where Jesus, the twelve, or the seventy proclaimed the gospel. Some would gather to sit at the feet of the teacher, while others would be busy with serving the needs of the visitors. Some folk find that discipleship means looking after the details of life, the meals to prepare, the sick to nurse, the dirt to clean, and the bills to pay. Others find discipleship in study and prayer, contemplation, worship, teaching and learning. Both are necessary, and we find that there are times for both working and thinking.

Here, in this scene, Jesus chides Martha for her worries and distractions, while praising Mary for choosing the better part of contemplation, learning, and worship. What does this mean for how we order our lives, and what does it say for how the church is to show hospitality?

A community that is welcoming of Christ and those who seek him must give attention to the word of God, to hearing, contemplating, and understanding the call of Jesus upon our lives. If we, as a church, are instead worried and distracted by many things, if the tasks and the work of maintaining the institution are the only focus, then discipleship can come to mean drudgery. We can become so focused on who brings what for the potluck that we can’t see Christ in the breaking of the bread. We can lose ourselves in the meetings and planning and organizing such that we lose sight of why we’re doing any of this.

Mary’s presence at the feet of Jesus shows us a better way. Not a way that ignores the work to be done, or that fails to offer hospitality; rather, a way that remains focused on why we’re here. We gather to read Scripture and wrestle with its meaning. We come to ask for God’s blessing, to hear the good news, and to build up our faith. In the home of Martha, they sought to be together to listen to the words of Jesus, to take comfort from one another and gain strength for the journey ahead. Our gathering here is like a family gathered at a home to break bread and share the cup, to ask questions and seek for meaning and purpose in our life together.

There is still the work to be done. The food and drink must be prepared and later cleared away. The repairs need to be made and the bills need to be paid. Yet, those who have sat at the feet of Jesus now find meaning and purpose in the work that must be done. Those who will go out to teach and heal and clean and welcome will do so filled with more than bread, but with living water that gives life to all they do. The mundane tasks of daily living become the joyous work of our common life.

This way of focusing on the why, rather than the what, is the better part. When Jesus visited with Levi, someone said to him, “John’s disciples… frequently fast and pray, but your disciples eat and drink.” Jesus said to them, “You cannot make wedding guests fast while the bridegroom is with them, can you?”[2] I think that Mary understood this, understood that Jesus would not always be there, that this opportunity to sit and listen at his feet was a fleeting moment, a precious chance to choose the one thing that mattered most. Perhaps Martha, worried by all that needed to be done, failed to remember why any of it mattered.

Our worries and our distractions won’t disappear if we just pray and sing a hymn together. But their burden will feel lighter. Jesus said to the disciples, “Can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?”[3] Our worries won’t get the work done, and our distractions keep us from hearing God speaking. Our striving for what to eat and what to drink and what to wear does not help us welcome the ones who have come through our doors. Only when we strive for the kingdom of God will we show true hospitality to those who enter our home.

So, friends, let us choose the better part. Let us lay down our burdens and listen to the word as it is spoken. Let us walk with Jesus along our pilgrim journey. The work will still be there for us; but we will be ready for it. We will be prepared to serve as disciples because we have listened at the feet of Jesus. We will be strong enough for what is to come because we will have strengthened one another. We will welcome the kingdom because we will recognize its presence all around us. We will choose the way of life, and it will not be taken from us. Amen.

[2] Luke 5:33-34.

[3] Luke 12:25.