Sermons: #love

Showing posts with label #love. Show all posts

Sunday, May 14, 2023

By What Power?

May 14, 2023
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Have you ever been challenged to defend yourself, what you believe, what you have done, or what you have said? It can come as a shock, startling us into defensiveness. Sometimes we know what to say, but when we’re caught off-guard, we often draw a blank. How could the other person not understand things the way I do? How could my intentions not be clear?

A musician I know, Ron Berg, once wrote:

Why do you ask? Must I explain?
Is it wrong to believe; is my faith a crime?
Where will it end? Do you understand?
I am just being me, with God by my side.[2]

In the scripture passages for today, Peter is challenged by the high priests of Israel, and Jesus is challenged by Philip. Peter has healed a man, and the priests are threatened. They are the ones who are supposed to hold the power. People are supposed to come to the temple to be healed. But this Peter person has side-stepped all of that. “Who do you think you are?” they seem to ask. “By what power or by what name did you do this?” (v. 7) We’re the authorities here, and we didn’t give you authorization. Peter answers, “I have done a good thing! This man has been healed by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth.” But the priests don’t see it that way. Jesus and his followers are a threat to their power.

Philip challenges Jesus in a similar way. He seems to ask, “Where does your power come from? If it is from God, then show us God and we’ll believe.” Jesus answers, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me?” (v. 9) “The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works.” (v. 10) Power, real power, comes from God.

Power is often measured by control over others. It is control based on money, fear, and ignorance. Peter and Jesus have a different understanding of power. Power is love, healing, truth-telling, moral clarity, and love of God above all else. Power belongs to God alone, and we are merely the instruments of God’s power.

Most of us do not truly understand the power of God that resides in us. Jesus understood. He said, “I am in the Father and the Father is in me.” (v. 11) Philip did not understand, even though Jesus did many things to show him the power of God within him. Peter didn’t get it then, either. It was only after the death and resurrection of Jesus, after the Pentecost, when Peter was filled with the Holy Spirit, that he understood the power that was within him.

If Peter and Philip didn’t get it, and they walked around with the living, breathing, Jesus, it’s no wonder we struggle too. But the power is there. The power of God is within each of us. And if we believe and trust in God, that power will be revealed. Jesus said, “Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father.” (v. 12) By the power of God, Peter stood up to the powerful and brought healing. What works of love, justice, and peace might we accomplish if we believe in the power of God, and trust God to use us well?

Now, we can’t expect to become miracle workers like Jesus. Faith healers that put on a show for the TV cameras are doing just that – putting on a show. No one has ever been able to move a mountain just by having faith and praying for it to move. The thunderstorm that woke my children in the night didn’t stop when I said “Peace, be still,” and I’m an ordained minister! However, by connecting to God, praying for God to increase my courage and strength, I have been able to calm the storm in myself, and help others move metaphorical mountains. With the help of God, I have helped others to connect to the love and grace of God in moments of joy and pain. And when others have shown their love and care for me in my time of need, I too have experienced the power of God’s love.

The greatest power Jesus possessed was love. As he nears the end of his earthly ministry, Jesus makes plain to the disciples the most important aspect of his mission: “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”[3] This commandment, so simple and yet so hard at times to follow. This is the core of all the teaching, the motivation for all the miracles, the source of the Savior’s power.

The Gospel of John was written in a time when the empire of Rome dominated the world of this budding faith, when violence ruled, and rebels might have raised a call to arms. In a striking contrast, the Gospel makes a different claim about power. Real power, the power to transform lives and relationships, is the power of God’s love, love that endured the cross, and even death, and will not abandon the disciples. As Jesus prepares to leave them, his parting message is that love abides. “They who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me; and those who love me will be loved by my Father, and I will love them and reveal myself to them” (v. 21).

If this were simply the love of greeting cards and romance movies, the disciples would have been lost. This was not sunshine and roses but the lived reality of Jesus, a person they knew from Nazareth, who looked and talked like them, and lived as one of them. Revealed in that life of healing the sick, feeding the hungry, touching the lepers, and treating each person with compassion, was the powerful love of God. In challenging the ethics of legal scholars, and lifting up the value of each person, even sinners, even outcasts, Jesus made the powerful claim that each one of them, and each one of us, is worthy of love, respect, and peace.

In the command to love one another, to love our neighbor, to love God, is the call to recognize the image of God that lives in every other. Love requires that we see them, those people, the “other” as people whom God also loves and wants us to love. It is not a love that is hierarchical, superior, or condescending but mutual, understood in serving one another, sharing in common what is needed for life to thrive. Jesus poured water into a basin and washed the disciples’ feet, telling them, “If I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet.”[4] As the early church was formed, “All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need.”[5] With love as the source and rule of life, the Christian community became known for their love.

My friends, you may not have magical healing powers, but you are connected to the power of God. Jesus said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (v. 15). Love God, and love your neighbor as yourself. Love one another as I have loved you. Ideas that seem so simple, and yet require of us all our heart and mind and strength. But if you love Jesus, if you love God, the Spirit of God abides with you.

In every act of compassion, in every work of kindness, we encounter the power of God. In every age, sharing what we have with others as they have need, listening as the broken-hearted pour out their grief, challenging the power of those who would use violence and hatred to dominate others, we carry on the mission of Jesus to reveal the powerful love of God to the world. 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.

[3] John 13:34.

[4] John 13:14.

[5] Acts 2:44-45.

Sunday, April 9, 2023

The Beginning of the Story

April 9, 2023 – Easter
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Matthew 28:1-10 [1]

It was just another morning as they went to see the tomb
with deep and aching sorrow as the day shook off the gloom.
Magdalene and Mary had been there, now two days past
as their Lord prayed, “Why forsaken?” cried out loud, and breathed his last.

The story which had ended, sealed away inside the grave,
had made a tomb around their hearts; there was no hope left to save.
We’ve been there, if we’re honest, having lost our faith and trust.
When all the plans we’ve made, all our accomplishments, are dust.

The world we know is not unlike that ancient Galilee
When every day the news comes in of loss and tragedy.
Hope’s in constant danger, might makes right, and riches rule.
The suffering of the poor and sick seems endless, cold, and cruel.

Just like them we need to know that someone out there cares.
So often we’ve been shaken by this fragile life we share
They threw their hopes upon this man who seemed to them so bold
He’ll make our nation strong again if he can be controlled.

That Jesus was arrested, even killed, is no surprise;
he knew the risk, the violence and betrayal in their eyes.
He’d been arguing for days with the chief priests and the scribes.
He called them out for arrogance, injustices, and lies.

Then the Roman power whipped him, and in a spectacle of pain
hung him up there on the cross, the symbol of their reign.
Crucifixion was a warning: peace through violence was the way;
keeping people in their place, no rebellion here today.

The disciples all had scattered; even Peter failed the test;
only Joseph took the body wrapped in cloth and laid to rest.
The Marys never saw it coming. For all they knew they were alone.
Then the angel flashed like lightning, shook the earth, and moved the stone.

He is not here; he has been raised! Their hearts could beat once more.
New life and joy flowed through them shining light through every pore.
An empty tomb, a risen Lord, a message they must share:
He’s gone ahead to Galilee; go and tell them he’ll be there.

How we want to celebrate, to sing a triumph song
The Romans did their worst to him, and Life still carries on.
The evil-doer has been crushed, the bad guy’s on the run.
We want to cry out “Victory!” The wrath of God was done.

But they didn’t rally to the cry, take up the sword and kill.
That’s not who we are called to be, that’s not what Jesus willed.
When tempted in the wilderness Jesus did not take the crown.
Rebellion in Jerusalem would only burn the city down.

Yes, death was overcome this day, the grave did not hold sway;
but marching on in majesty was not the apostles’ way.
The forces that had crucified would still seek out the rest.
Three hundred years of savagery would put them to the test.

Now, some would turn against the Jews, saying they had made him die.
Only Pilate, and the Empire, could execute, could crucify.
When pilgrims came for Passover to celebrate their freedom,
the brutal Roman governor used terror to demean them.

If we would honor Jesus in the way we live our lives
We cannot harbor hatred, using violence and lies.
How should we treat our enemies, our neighbors, and ourselves?
The way, the truth, the life is LOVE that builds no boundary walls.

We’re all immigrants and slaves-set-free, refugees and tribes.
As Christians, Muslims, Jews and all we’re meant to be alive.
No one can win when others must be crushed so we can rise.
We must seek the face of God each time we look another in the eyes.

I believe that Jesus rose that day, but I’m not willing to pretend
that evil was defeated, and I’ll never sin again.
There are times we all still struggle, we’re all broken now and then;
but new life can rise within us, set us free to start again.

I believe that Jesus rose that day, though no one saw the deed;
and I believe that there is proof, but it’s not inerrancy.
The proof is in the lives transformed, the people who were changed;
the resurrection witnesses did not remain the same.

This group of scared disciples who did not dare to see him die
found the courage to tell all the world they’d seen Jesus alive.
Some would go to prison, even death for saying so.
Now they could taste and see the life God wants us all to know.

The power of this moment doesn’t come from strength of arms.
Instead, it comes despite the risk that we might come to harm.
To stand with the oppressed, the poor, the sinners, and the lost
is the reason Jesus walked this road and chose to pay the cost.

This was the moment that changed the world, and today we still can see
the resurrection world is not the one that used to be.

Before when something threatened power, like mercy, justice, peace,
the world could just kill it and it would be gone; but with Jesus that cannot be.

The new life of Jesus is planted in us, the new life that God has restored.
Mercy and justice cannot be dismissed with a cross or even a sword.
When people of faith stand together as one, we move mountains and vanquish our fear.
We have a dream, we open our hands, we say, “You’re welcome here.”

No longer afraid, we know that now we’ll never walk alone.
We’re ready to say, “Here am I, send me.” When you’re ready, call me home.
Tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me again.
Jesus gathers the scattered sheep back where the story began.

In ministry he had healed the sick, and called the children blessed,
had compassion for the suffering, and offered the weary rest,
taught the crowds in parables, and fed them with two fish.
The story is not over. It begins again with this:

The powers of evil did their worst. The light of the world still shines.
“I am with you always, to the end,” he said, “fear not, for you are mine.”
The ministry that he once did belongs to you, my friends.
The story begins with the love we share, and I pray it never ends.

Amen.

___________________

Resources who influenced my writing:

Eduard Schweizer, “Resurrection” in Donald W. Musser and Joseph L. Price, Editors, New and Enlarged Handbook of Christian Theology (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2003), p. 425.

Nadia Bolz Weber, “Sermon on Empty Tombs and the Suddenness of Dawn.” Online: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/nadiabolzweber/2014/04/sermon-on-empty-tombs-and-the-suddenness-of-dawn/

Rachel Held Evans, “Hearts of Flesh.” Online: http://rachelheldevans.com/blog/hearts-of-flesh

Alex Joyner, “The Empty Tomb.” Online: http://www.ministrymatters.com/all/article/entry/4913/the-empty-tomb?utm_campaign=eNews10Apr2014&utm_medium=email&utm_source=newsletter&utm_content=The%20Empty%20Tomb

Pascal Deng, “The Incredible Need for Emptiness.”

The Rev. Geoffrey A. Black and The Rev. Sharon E. Watkins, “UCC, Disciples leaders offer prayers, consolation following Kansas shooting.” Online: http://www.ucc.org/news/kansas-shooting-statement-04152014.html?utm_source=kyp&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=kyp041514%22

Kathryn Matthews Huey, Reflection on John 20:1-18 for Sermon Seeds. http://www.ucc.org/worship/samuel/april-20-2014.html.

Roger Wolsey, “A Kinder, Gentler, more Grown-up Easter.” http://www.patheos.com/blogs/rogerwolsey/2014/04/a-kinder-gentler-more-grown-up-easter-2/

The Rev. Dr. Susan Brooks Thistlethwaite, “Is Easter Happy?” http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rev-dr-susan-brooks-thistlethwaite/is-easter-happy_b_5174128.html

Sunday, May 15, 2022

They'll Know We Are Christians by Our Love

May 15, 2022
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Acts 11:1-18; John 13:31-35 [1]

What religion were Jesus and his first followers? The answer is, of course, Jewish. So, let’s look at this vision Peter has when he is praying in Joppa. What he is being shown are animals that Jews cannot eat. According to the laws of Moses recorded in Leviticus, certain animals such as pigs, rabbits, and shellfish are unclean, unacceptable for a Jew to eat. So, what is this vision from heaven? Are the rules suddenly being changed? It seems that way. But if you remember any of the other stories of visions people have in the bible, things are not always exactly what they seem.

You see, the vision is linked with what happened next. Peter’s vision ends and at that very moment three men arrive from Caesarea. They are Gentiles, non-Jews, and the Spirit tells Peter “not to make a distinction between them and us.”[2] Up to this point, only Jews could become Christians. Part of the reason for this is that in order to understand who Jesus is you have to know something about Judaism.

It’s the same reason that our Christian bibles have not only the New Testament stories about Jesus but the Old Testament also. What we know as the Old Testament is the Jewish bible. It helps us understand Jesus when we understand where he came from, what his culture was like, how the Jewish people understood God, and what their idea of Messiah was. At least, that’s what Peter and those around him thought. There are prerequisites to being Christian. Peter’s vision, and its accompanying interaction with a group of Gentiles, suggests that maybe you don’t have to have all the keys before you walk through the door.

This was a breakthrough moment for Peter and the other disciples. It was a realization that the gospel, the salvation of people through Jesus Christ, was not meant just for one small group of people. God’s grace and love were not limited to Jews only. “The Holy Spirit fell upon them just as it had upon us at the beginning.”[3] Yes, the rules are changing. “And they praised God, saying, ‘Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life.’”[4] God has big plans, bigger than you can imagine, and who are we that we could hinder God?

The differences between us don’t matter to God. You’ve heard it said: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”[5] The rules that are designed to keep us apart have been broken by this God who loves all people. God is bigger than one group or another. There is no longer Catholic or Protestant, there is no longer Presbyterian or Methodist, there is no longer Congregational or Evangelical. God is bigger than any denomination. God is the Creator of the entire universe and all that is within it. God’s love is not limited to this people or that; God’s love is for all people, no exceptions.

This is what it means to be Christian; it is about something much bigger than any of us. We are members of St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois. But we are also members of the United Church of Christ in the United States of America. And, most importantly, we are Christians, along with all the members of all the other churches all around the world. We are all members of the family of God.

There are some things you should know about this family. You see, people can tell when you’re part of this family. There is a way of life, a way of being in the world that is evidence of your membership in this family. It is the way of love.

Let me ask you, what do you do when you love something? Me, I love chocolate. When there is chocolate in the room, my attention gets drawn to it. I spend time thinking about it. I like to tell other people about it, and I can get really enthusiastic about it. Dude, I had this really dark chocolate from Ghirardelli and it was unbelievable! You have to try it! I sometimes stash chocolate around the house so I can find it later and savor a moment with my chocolate. I’ve gone out of my way to get chocolate. I really love chocolate.

So, what happens when you love someone? Your heart races, your mind gets all fuzzy. You spend a lot of time thinking about the one you love. You want to make them happy. You work hard to please them, and you want them to notice how much you care. You miss one another when you’re apart, and you can’t wait to be together again. As love grows deeper, you communicate better, you share your joys and your sorrows, you talk about your deepest fears and your most precious hopes for the future. You become partners through life, dancing to the same inner rhythm. People can tell when you love someone.

“Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”[6] Jesus’ disciples were good friends. You’d have to be to work so closely and so hard and at such risk for three years. They cared about each other, not in a romantic sense, but like siblings or best friends. But Jesus is pushing them toward something more. “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another.”[7] This is not a suggestion. This is not “Hey, can’t we all just get along?” This is a commandment, and it is bigger than all of them.

The earliest Christian communities functioned like large families. “All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need.”[8] They loved and cared for one another, for all the believers, but it was more than that. The love that they had extended to their neighbors, the people around them in their communities, even those whom others considered outcast. Their love extended across traditional dividing lines of religion and culture too; remember the Jew/Gentile thing? But it was more than that.

People could tell they were Christians by their love. The love just spilled out of them. Their love for the things in the world around them, their love for the people around them, their obvious love for God expressed in prayer, praise, and song. They were bursting with love, and they never stopped. Their love flowed into others, who passed that love along to their children, and grandchildren, and so on. That love flowed into the people who founded the church in this place, into your ancestors, and it flows now into you. It is the Holy Spirit. It is the love of God that seeks to flow through every heart. Just as my love of chocolate is hard to hide, just as people can tell when you love someone, God’s Holy Spirit of love overflows the Christian heart. Look around. Can you tell you’re surrounded by Christians? Amen.

[2] Acts 11:12.

[3] Acts 11:15.

[4] Acts 11:18.

[5] Galatians 3:28.

[6] John 13:34.

[7] John 13:34.

[8] Acts 2:44-45.

Sunday, March 27, 2022

Welcome Home

March 27, 2022 – Fourth Sunday in Lent
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Luke 15:11-32 [1]

The fate of the younger son in the first part of this parable is something most of us recognize. Though we may not have run off with our inheritance, we have squandered our resources and found that we have spent everything. How many of us have lost ourselves in dissolute living? I have been drunk, smoked cigarettes, and I even have a tattoo. I have felt lost and far from home. Some of us have turned our backs on our family, our homeland, or even our religious upbringing.

The younger son comes to such a state of disgrace that he goes to work feeding pigs. For a Jew, pigs are unclean; not only should you not eat them, you shouldn’t even touch them. He has become thoroughly wretched. When he finally comes to himself, recognizing the condition he is in is worse than the life of his father’s hired hands, he prepares to return home to humiliate himself in order to survive.

For addicts, it is called hitting rock bottom. We might call it the dark night of despair. It is that feeling of being so lost from who we are supposed to be that there is no further to fall. When the depth of our failure, our greed, our sin has extinguished all the lights, then we can most clearly see the light of hope and grasp for the lifeline God has held out for us all along.

In that culture, the response of the Father is unexpected. The son who has squandered his inheritance has brought shame on the family and should have been disowned. And yet, this father’s love has never burned more brightly than when the son returns. The father’s response to the prodigal’s return reveals the heart of this parable, the grace of God. As the father runs to greet him, we see the parent who has never given up hope, who kept looking to the horizon for any glimpse of the return of lost child.

The prodigal comes prepared to debase himself, to beg, not for forgiveness, but merely for the chance to become one of the servants. He rehearses what he will say, that he has become unworthy to be called a son, unworthy to be loved as part of the family. Before he can speak a word, however, his father has already embraced him. Hearing the speech of unworthiness, the father is having none of it. The finest robe, a ring for his finger, and sandals for his feet. Even more, we will feast and celebrate; “for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!”[2]

Such depth and breadth of love, compassion, and grace is offered by God. In this moment we see God’s deepest desire for us, God’s dream for all of us to return, to live again, to be found. We humans were made to be in loving relationship with God, each other, and all creation. We break our relationships; we fracture our connections and distort our view of one another. We lose ourselves in frivolous pursuits, seeking pleasures, riches, and accolades, while forsaking who we are and who we are meant to be. Yet God never gives up on us. God never loses hope. God never stops searching the horizon for a hint of our return.

It is a wonderful image of God’s love for us, but the parable doesn’t end there. We pull back from the scene of a party starting up to find the older son out in the field. He has remained faithful. He stayed by his father’s side; he HAS worked like a slave for his father all this time. If we’re honest with ourselves, we probably identify more with this child. We’ve been the good ones, we’ve been going to church for years, staying out of trouble, doing good things. Father never threw a party for us! Our jealousy and resentment keep us from being able to celebrate the return of our lost siblings.

This older son illustrates how we sometimes feel like we are being mistreated, neglected, or pushed aside when the undeserving have good things come their way. We’ve always been responsible; why does the irresponsible one get celebrated? We’ve always worked hard; why do the lazy ones who don’t want to work get things handed to them? I did it the right way; why do they get away with doing it the wrong way? We are worthy of God’s grace; why do the unworthy get it served on a silver platter?

This is where the parable shifts perspective, from the viewpoint of limited resources to the viewpoint of abundant grace in God’s kingdom. The father comes out to the older son to plead with him to join the celebration. Rather than scolding the older son, or defending the younger son, the father shifts attention to his own love and abundance. We are not running short of love, compassion, and grace here. “All that is mine is yours.”[3] The thing is, this isn’t your brother’s party; it’s mine. I am celebrating the return of one that I love, one I thought was lost forever yet has returned.

This is the good news of God’s kingdom. We human beings get lost, do things we shouldn’t, we bring shame upon ourselves and our families. We get jealous and resentful of others and of our place in the world. But God reaches out to us anyway; God seeks to reconcile our relationship, to celebrate when we return. The father absorbs the shame of the younger son’s disgrace, allowing him to return. The father seeks to pull the older son away from his jealousy and resentment, to draw him in to the celebration of love.

The parable is ultimately not about the younger son and his sin. It is not about the older son and his resentments. It is not about who deserves punishment and who deserves accolades. It is about God, and God’s endless love, God’s continual search for the lost in order to welcome them back home. God’s grace has no measure. When God gives grace to another, it doesn’t mean there is less for the rest of us. It means there is more. The parable is that mercy abolishes sin, abundance overcomes limits, and wayward children are welcomed home by loving parents.

This chapter of Luke began with the Pharisees and scribes grumbling about Jesus eating with sinners. It ends with the story of a father’s welcome of a prodigal son and a plea to the older son to join the celebration of the goodness of the father. The Pharisees and scribes, and all of us, are left with the question: will you keep standing out in the field burning with jealousy, or will you come join the welcome home party for the sinners? Amen.

[2] Luke 15:24.

[3] Luke 15:31.

Sunday, February 20, 2022

Have Mercy

February 20, 2022
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Luke 6:27-38 [1]

The Golden Rule is a pretty easy rule to follow. It just makes sense: Do to others as you would have them do to you. Show respect, be kind, smile. We can all do that. Jesus knows that. It’s when we’re responding to what someone else has done to us that it breaks down.

How can you love someone who doesn’t love you? How can you do good when someone has done you wrong? Would you lend to someone who is ungrateful? Can you be compassionate if the other person is wicked? We are much more likely to react to how we’re treated than respond with kindness. But Jesus asks us to be merciful.

Mercy is a gift. It can’t be demanded; it can’t be earned. If you have to earn it, it’s not mercy. If you have to pay back a kindness, it’s not mercy. In fact, mercy means compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one’s power to punish or harm. What was earned was punishment, yet what was given was forgiveness. That’s mercy.

Mercy is not the opposite of justice. Mercy recognizes that justice is not met when further injustice is done. Mercy is the understanding that punishment won’t undo the harm, won’t bring back the lost, won’t repair the damage done. Mercy shows that sometimes wrongs can be made right with generosity and love rather than retribution. Mercy is much harder to give than punishment. Compassion is much harder to show than anger.

To live a faithful life is to journey in faith, toward faith. On our journey of faith, not everything will be worked out in this life. Faith is knowing that there will be justice, and it doesn’t always have to come from us. This is not an easy way to live.

Rationally, we can make sense of the words of Jesus, rejecting reciprocity. Emotional, irrational people, many of us are more transactional in our relationships. We treat others the way that we are treated. We react to the way we are spoken to, and respond by meeting the emotional level of the other. Our history with another person affects how we feel, and if we’re used to defending ourselves, our defenses are always up. To respond without reacting, to seek reconciliation rather than reciprocity requires a deliberate reorientation of our thoughts and actions.

Of course, that is what Jesus does, changing our hearts and minds. This passage may be the most challenging message that Jesus brings. From beings who fight fire with fire, we are to become beings who fight fire with water, who respond to anger with compassion. This is hard. It takes real effort grounded in faith to stay calm in the storm. And this is why following Jesus means taking up our cross. The cross that most of us carry isn’t suffering and persecution; rather, it is doing the hard thing, the necessary thing to show love, peace, and mercy.

In a commentary on this passage, the Rev. Dr. Cheryl Lindsay writes:[2]

Mercy is essential to the character and nature of the Living God. God’s mercy is dependable, available, and abundant. Jesus embodied mercy in the same way that his physical being took on flesh. His life manifested mercy, and following The Way compels us to manifest mercy as well. Jesus’ message paints a vivid picture of a merciful life.

When asked by the Pharisees and scribes “‘Why do you eat and drink with tax-collectors and sinners?” Jesus answered, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners to repentance.”[3] Jesus came to seek out those who need a merciful God.

Most of us have probably internalized the idea that sinners deserve to be punished for their sins. God is seen as the divine judge, a God to be feared. But isn’t God also the source of love? Yes, those who have turned away from God, those who sin, deserve what’s coming to them. That is perhaps why God’s mercy is so transformative. Rather than rain down destruction, God continues to love, to have compassion, and to show mercy to those who have fallen away. Our divine Parent continues to seek for us when we’re lost, to keep the door open to us should we return home. What is asked of us is to love in that same way, to be merciful as God is merciful.

It is wise for us to remember that none of us is perfect. As Paul wrote in the letter to the Romans, “There is no one who is righteous, not even one… all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”[4] The promise of mercy is the gift that allows us to be reconciled to God. As Dr. Lindsay writes: “We can be hurt and wounded…and overcome the harm. We can be betrayed and be broken…and made whole. We can be thrown away and left for dead in a pit…but we can be elevated to heights we didn’t even seek.”[5]

We have been shown mercy. So let us show mercy. We are called to be merciful to our neighbors and even our enemies. We are called to forgive and not to judge, to give and not to condemn. It is in showing mercy that we receive mercy. It is in giving love and compassion that we receive love and compassion. “The measure you give will be the measure you get back.”[6] Therefore, have mercy. Amen.

[2] The Rev. Dr. Cheryl A. Lindsay, reflection on Luke 6:27-38 for Sunday, February 20, 2022 on https://www.ucc.org/sermon-seeds/sermon-seeds-merciful/.

[3] Luke 5:30-32.

[4] Romans 3:10, 23.

[5] Lindsay.

[6] Luke 6:38.

Sunday, January 23, 2022

Members of the Body of Christ

January 23, 2022
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

1 Corinthians 12:12-31; Luke 4:14-21 [1]

Our bodies are amazing. We’re composed of 206 bones, 639 muscles, ligaments, arteries, veins, skin, and more. Every move we make takes hundreds of different parts working together. Feet, hands, ears, eyes – each member important, each needed for our functioning. We are both complex, and one, at the same time.

We each have our role, our part to play. Denny shovels snow and spreads salt to make our paths safe. Cindy and Sue place flowers and displays in front of the church to show our welcome. Carolyne tracks our finances and pays our bills. T.C. and Tetyana stir our hearts with music. Shirley sets up the coffee and cleans up afterwards. And there are many more parts to this body.

What makes us one, what brought us into unity as one body, was our baptism. We approached the water, the font, the river, as an individual. We came out of the water as part of something much more. We became part of a new family, the family of Jesus, disciples of Christ, members of one body, the Church.

As part of that family, we belong to one another. We pray for one another. We bring food to each other. We break bread together. When one of us is hurting, we all feel the pain. When one of us celebrates, we all feel the joy. We may not be as large, as beautiful, or as capable as another body, but we have our place, our history together, and we are a beloved member of the family of God.

Part of keeping a body healthy is caring for it. It helps to know that somebody out there knows you, knows what is going on with you, and cares. It helps to know that somebody out there is praying for you. That is what we have the church for, and that is part of the reason we are here together today. We need care from one another, and we need to care for one another. It is in that caring that we keep our whole body healthy.

We each have our role, the gifts and talents that we share which contribute to the functioning of the whole. If we were all in the choir, where would the congregation be? If we were all in the congregation, where would the preacher be? Each of us matters, from the home-bound to the newborn, the generous givers and those who receive our support. As one body, it is only with all of our members and friends that we can be whole.

“The eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you,’ nor again the head to the feet, ‘I have no need of you’” (1 Cor. 12:21). We need each other, in order to be a healthy church, a healthy community, and even a healthy democracy. We need women and men, because we think differently and have different experiences. We need the hopes and prayers of people of color, LGBT+ folk, people struggling to get by, as well as those of straight, white, male, property-owners, because all of us are in this life together and none of us knows the needs of everyone everywhere. We need the leadership and ideas of Republicans and Democrats, holding one another accountable as we seek together to form a more perfect union.

As a congregation that welcomes everyone, no matter where they are on life’s journey, we won’t always agree on what to do or where to go. But we will share the journey, suffering and rejoicing with one another, loving one another, “striv[ing] to share our love of Christ and Christ’s message with our community through our words and deeds, inviting all who search for God’s will on earth to join us in worship.”[2]

Many of our relationships in life are functional or transactional. They exist in order to work together, fulfill our needs, to accomplish something. Those types of relationships are also temporary. The church is different. Our relationship as part of this fellowship exists in order to be an expression of the love of God. Love is not temporary, just as family is not temporary. Love never ends. As part of this family, this body, we share each other’s lives, the good and the bad. We know the love of God which holds us together in a community of grace. We are the church, not a building, but a body, bound together and empowered by the Holy Spirit who works in and through all of us.

As Christians we are challenged to see all people as members of one Body. All of us are members of the body, and we need one another in order to live. As we go about our daily lives, let us strive to include others in our community, to reach out to those who are different from us, and welcome them as members of one human family, one body with many members. Amen.

[2] From the Mission Statement of St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois, Constitution, Part 1, Section II.

Sunday, January 16, 2022

Abundance of Talents

January 16, 2022
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

1 Corinthians 12:1-11; John 2:1-11 [1]

“So, what do you do?” That is the question that often begins a conversation with someone new. What we usually mean by that is “What do you do for a living?” or “How do you make money?” or “What little box can I put you in?”

That question can sometimes give a good impression of who a person is, at least on the surface. But it usually doesn’t go deeper than that. What do I do? I’m a minister. Right there we have a potential problem, because what you think a minister is and does may bear little resemblance to what I actually do. There is the can of worms of explaining what the United Church of Christ is, and how we compare with whatever expression of Christianity you have previous experience with. Questions come up, like how I can be a “priest” and be married with kids, etc. But even if we get through all that, you have really only scratched the surface of who I am.

I asked a different opening question once. “What would you be doing if you could do anything?” And the first person to whom I posed this question startled me with her answer. “What I do right now. I’m an archaeologist. I am helping to excavate ruins in Mexico.” Wow, right? She didn’t even have to think about it.

Maybe we should ask “What are you good at?” Except there we run into problems too, because most of us don’t consider ourselves to be very good at much of anything, at least not anything important. The thing is there are many things that we are good at, many talents that we have that may seem unimportant to the big, bad, hyper-competitive, over-glamorized world out there; yet, they are vitally important to the person who is standing in front of me, or sitting across the table from me.

I’m good at listening, and helping people know that they are loved and that they are not alone in their struggles. I have a talent for taking the ancient scriptures and making them relevant to people today. I can play guitar and sing a song that will transport you to another time and place. I have a talent for making computers and machines do my bidding.

“Now there are varieties of gifts… services… activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone” (1 Cor. 12: 4-6). Each of us is touched by the Spirit of God who knows us in the depths of our being, who gives us our talents, our gifts, and nurtures our abilities. We are disciples of the one who said to the fishermen, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people” (Mk. 1:17).

We have each been given gifts from God, talents and skills that we can use to help one another and to shape this world into something better. Perhaps you have a talent for building things. There is someone who needs you who has lost their home to a tornado, who needs a wheelchair ramp added to their deck, or who needs a new bookshelf for the family room. Perhaps you have a talent for caring for people who are sick. There are certainly plenty of people who need you, right now, if that is your gift. Perhaps you have the ability to empathize with those in prison. Perhaps you are able to listen without judgment, keep a confidence, and be the kind of companion that a person in crisis needs.

We are part of the Body of Christ, members of the household of God. We are all in this together – our friends, our neighbors, our classmates, our co-workers, and even our enemies, our homeless and hungry fellow humans, and all the living beings that cover the face of the globe. “To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good” (1 Cor. 12:7). Our talents may not bring us fame and fortune, but they can help bring the members of God’s household closer into the community and closer in relationship with God.

As John’s gospel tells the story, Jesus hadn’t really done much before that wedding in Cana. Yet there he was at this wedding with his mother. She notices that the host is out of wine. This is a big problem. When the wine runs out, the guests leave, and that will embarrass the host family, possibly making them an object of ridicule in the town. Mary has a talent for recognizing a crisis of social credit, and, knowing Jesus has some special abilities, asks him to save the day.

Mary of Bethany, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, had a talent for extravagant expressions of love. They were having dinner at her home, shortly after Lazarus had been raised from the dead. I imagine there was conversation around the table that night about death. They knew the chief priests and Pharisees planned to put Jesus to death, and that they were looking for him. The writing was on the wall, and Mary knew that her time with the Lord was running short. So, in an extravagant act of love and devotion, she anointed the feet of Jesus.

Jonas Salk had a talent for chemistry. In 1953 he invented and tested a vaccine for poliomyelitis, the virus which had killed 3,000 Americans the year before. Out of an abundance of generosity, Salk never patented the vaccine or earned any money from his discovery, preferring it be distributed as widely as possible.

Martin Luther King, Jr. had a talent for organizing people. As one of the leaders of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, King organized events and marches to bring attention to the disenfranchisement of African-Americans in places like Selma, Alabama. In Selma and other southern towns, black folk were intimidated, harassed, and assaulted when they sought to register to vote. The Civil Rights movement brought national attention to the issue, resulting in the passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1965.

A friend of mine, Kate Murphy, has a talent for teaching. For twenty years at Smoky Hill High School in Aurora, Colorado, she has taught English. The characters of Shakespeare came alive, the poetry of Angelou illuminated young minds, and the novels of Steinbeck, Salinger, and Hawthorn challenged her students to think and write their best. Mostly, though, Kate has a real talent for caring, and her students know that she is rooting for them, dreaming big dreams for them, and sending them out into the world prepared and ready.

As the disciples matured, they were given power and authority, and sent out. But their new talents didn’t suddenly turn them into Jesus. They sometimes failed to cast out demons, and couldn’t always heal the sick. But when they remembered that they were given their talents for a reason, to do what God was calling them to do, they had much more success.

What made them, and makes us, capable of doing what God is calling us to do is found in Paul’s letter, “All these are activated by one and the same Spirit” (1 Cor. 12:11), the Spirit of God which is manifest in us for the common good. We have talents and abilities in abundance, given to us by God’s Holy Spirit, to help one another, to heal each other’s wounds, and to keep hope alive in the hearts of those who walk in shadows.

We are many light-beams reflecting the light of Jesus to the world. We are branches of the one tree, reaching out to offer our gifts, our talents, and our love in service to God’s people. What do you do? You use your spiritual gifts for the common good. What are you good at? You are good at being the body of Christ in the world. Amen.

Sunday, December 19, 2021

The Song Goes On

December 19, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Luke 1:39-55 [1]

It’s the reason for the season: the Christmas story, the shepherds, the angels, the baby lying in the manger. We gather to sing the old carols, to hear the story read again. It is a wonderful time of gathering with family and friends, at least before COVID, of gift giving, ice skating, and warm cocoa by the fire. For most of us, Christmas is warm feelings of safety, happiness, and love.

As one writer puts it, however, “Christmas is not safe. The reason it is not safe has nothing to do with the traffic hazards around the malls, harmful toys for children, or the possibility of Christmas tree fires. Christmas is not safe because the Christ Child is not safe.”[2] God with us in the world is dangerous to the powerful, to the cruel, to the rich, and to the indifferent. Mary knew this; it was her song.

The mother of Jesus is most often portrayed as meek and mild, gentle and timid. We don’t think of her as shaking the foundations of Empire, of defying the ways of the world that put people in their place, keep them down, render them powerless. Sweet, innocent Mary has a revolutionary spirit, a vision of the world where justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.[3] This is the woman God chose to bear Jesus into the world, to raise a child who would become the Savior. Mary “recognized the ugliness of inequality. She was incensed by the brutality of oppression. Mary longed for a better world.”[4]

Mary pondered the greeting of the angel, Gabriel, wondering who this child she carried would become. The Son of the Most High, who would rule over the house of Jacob, how would he change the world? Her cousin, Elizabeth, who was thought to be barren, had conceived a son in her old age. With God nothing is impossible. With a cry, Elizabeth greeted her, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.”[5] With hope burning in her heart, Mary responds with the song we know as the Magnificat.

My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior…

the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.

The Lord God is coming to fulfill the promises made through the prophets, and her words speak of danger to those who oppress the people.

He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;

he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.

This is good news for the poor, the lowly, the hungry; this is bad news for the rich and powerful. We love to sing the songs of angels, of shepherds staring in wonder, of kings from afar bringing gifts fit for a king. We don’t count this song as one of our Christmas carols, yet this is the song that gave strength and courage to centuries of downtrodden folk. Like the slaves of the old South sung of glory on the other side, that we shall overcome, those who live in an unjust, inhumane world envision a world of justice, righteousness, hope, and joy as they sing the song of God’s power to change the world. This song of Mary is the subversive protest song of the lowly, sung in defiance of the proud. Music is powerful.

As I studied for this sermon, I read the story of Víctor Jara, a folk singer in Chile at the time of the military coup led by General Augusto Pinochet. It struck a chord for me because my in-laws were living in Chile then. “Víctor Lidio Jara Martínez didn’t sing in English, nor did his songs substantially influence Western music, but the manner of his death, the symbolic silencing of his music, made him an international symbol of resistance.”[6]

In 1973, the democratically elected government of Chile was toppled by the forces of Pinochet. The rule of Pinochet was known for its horrors and oppression. Jara was a famous musician and prominent supporter of Chile’s president Salvador Allende. He was arrested the day after the coup and held in an indoor sports complex in Santiago along with some 5,000 others. Periodically, people were taken out to be tortured.

There are various stories of his last days, but it is clear that his music kept its power. Craig Watts writes, “In the midst of the brutality and abuse, he began to play and sing. He lifted his voice against the violence and destruction that was being imposed upon his people. The crowd hushed in order to listen to his songs, songs of courage and hope. His songs helped them to see beyond the pain and defeat of the moment to possibilities yet unrealized.”[7]

Jara was recognized, and an army officer stamped on his wrists. He was beaten and tortured. At one point, through split lips, he defiantly sang Venceremos (We Will Win), Allende’s 1970 election anthem. On the morning he was killed, Jara scribbled the lyrics to a final song, “Estadio Chile,” which were later smuggled out of the stadium: “How hard it is to sing when I must sing of horror/ Horror which I am living, horror which I am dying.”

Even his death did not stop the song. “The people who heard it remembered. Throughout the time Pinochet and his forces ruled Chile, the oppressed people sang the song of Victor Jara.”[8] The song goes on, and Jara’s defiance and hope in the face of fear continues to inspire. Jara has been commemorated in dozens of songs in several languages, including “Washington Bullets” by The Clash, and “One Tree Hill” by U2. James Dean Bradfield of the Manic Street Preachers has recorded an album about Jara’s life and death.

In a world of oppression, fear, and brutality, Mary sang. Mary sang, because she knew that the child she was to bear would save the world. Her song is remembered, as is her defiant courage and strength. Her son had his own music, music that would shake the world. And even though the powerful tried to stop him with violence and death, the song goes on. It is sung in the hearts of all who believe that a better world is possible, that love will win, that justice will come, and that God’s promises to our ancestors will be fulfilled.

[God’s] mercy is for those who fear him,
from generation to generation.

God’s power is in the song that goes on. Amen.

[2] Craig M. Watts, “Singing Mary’s Song” posted on https://www.ministrymatters.com/.

[3] Amos 5:24.

[4] Watts.

[5] Luke 1:42.

[6] Dorian Lynskey, “Víctor Jara: The folk singer murdered for his music,” August 12, 2020 on https://www.bbc.com/culture/.

[7] Watts.

[8] Watts.

Sunday, May 14, 2023

Acts 4:1-11; John 14:8-24[1]