Fishing for People

January 22, 2023
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Matthew 4:12-23[1]

What is the one thing Jesus talks about most? The kingdom of Heaven or the kingdom of God. What we sometimes get wrong is what that means. I believe that when Jesus talks about the kingdom of God, he is talking about what God is doing in this world, with these people, not a heavenly world yet to come or a kingdom of the afterlife. Now, that does not mean that Jesus did not believe in a heavenly world. He certainly did, and talked about that as well, but when Jesus taught or preached the kingdom of Heaven, he was talking about God’s will being done on earth. The kingdom of heaven has come near is about God’s will being done on earth as it is in heaven.

The focus of Jesus’ ministry is the rule of God in this world, the will of God being realized on this earth in the lives and relationships of people, in the structures, systems, organizations, and institutions of society, and in all creation. The kingdom of God is ultimately about the health and well-being of us in the here-and-now, in this life, among these people. Heaven may be really nice, but Jesus didn’t come to take us all to Heaven, but rather to bring Heaven here.

Jesus called the disciples to follow him and fish for people. As modern day disciples of Jesus, we too are called to share his passion and work, his love of God and of people, his concern for the poor and the marginalized, his commitment to peace and justice. In the water of Baptism, we symbolically die and rise again to life, dying to the false self so the true self can flourish, ending the life of sin and rising to the life of faith.

The call to repent is a call to change the direction of our lives. Instead of living for honor, glory, power, or fulfillment for ourselves, we decide to live for the honor and glory of God, to love God and love our neighbor and work for a just world. The call to repent and be a disciple of Jesus is a call to change the focus of our lives so that we are centered in God’s rule and God’s will for life on earth, a life focused on the well-being of others.

For some folk, the invitation to repentance is understood as trying to make amends for all the bad stuff we’ve done before we get in trouble. It is based on fear and avoiding doom rather than learning how to love and being transformed. Fear of punishment, especially eternal punishment, may motivate us to modify our behavior, but fear cannot redeem us at the core of our being. As the author of 1 John wrote: “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.”[2] Fear is not God’s tool for transformation.

It is not fear, but love and the hope of redemption that is transforming. If we walk along the road of life but do not fall in love with God and find ourselves compelled by Jesus’ vision of a just world for all, we will not be truly changed. We might become religious, we might alter certain behaviors, we might join a church and become part of a faith community, but unless we fall in love with God and learn how to truly love others, we will not be transformed.

“As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, [Jesus] saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. And he said to them, ‘Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.’”[3] They respond “immediately” and leave everything behind. Peter, Andrew, James, and John jump at the chance to change, to seek a life beyond subsistence and drudgery, a life pursuing a better world. This is Capernaum, land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali, where the people have sat in darkness, in the region and shadow of death. Jesus’s arrival is like the light of dawn breaking forth.

For these fishermen, the power of Rome asserted control over the land, their production, and the transportation and marketing of their catch with contracts and taxes. That they jump at the chance for something new is not surprising. What is surprising is that, even when it became clear this mission might be dangerous, they stuck with it. John had already been imprisoned; he would soon be executed. Jesus doesn’t just heal people, but teaches them a way of life that defies the empire and its fear-based power. They will catch people, who will be transformed, and an entire world will be turned upside down. Yet, even when the one who called them was taken to the cross, they stayed the course.

They weren’t particularly qualified to be change-makers. They had no training in sociology or psychology. They may have known the scriptures, and heard stories of a Messiah, but who were they to be partners in transforming the world with love? Yet, they were chosen. Just some ordinary fishermen, but Jesus called them to follow him. It would be a big change. It would be hard. It would be dangerous at times. But it would also be wonderful, amazing, transformative.

The call is being issued today, to us, to you and me, just us ordinary folk without much in the way of training in transforming the world. But we are being called, not by a figure on the seashore, but by the living Christ in our midst, in this very room with us.

Follow me, Jesus says, and shine some light into the darkness. Follow me and spread some good news to people who need to hear it. Learn from me how to gather people into a force for transforming the world with love. Follow me, says Christ, and discover what it means to be fully human.

But, be warned. The kingdom of Heaven means a world that is changed. It means defying empire. It means dreaming new dreams. It means pursuing peace. It means standing for justice with the marginalized and the poor. It means forgiving and loving enemies. It means making God’s vision our vision, and serving God’s will rather than our self-interest. It means loving others and helping them to love as well. And like a great light dawning in a world of shadows, it will be glorious.  Amen.

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[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] 1 John 4:18.

[3] Matthew 4:18-19.

Bear Fruit

March 20, 2022 – Lent 3
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Luke 13:1-9[1]

The purpose of Lent is the preparation of the believer for Easter. It is during this time that we focus more on Jesus calling people to repentance. As Paul wrote to the Romans, “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”[2] Sin is turning away from God, or the ways of God; serving our own desires rather than seeking good for our neighbors. In Jesus time, it was often thought that bad things happened to people because of their sin. But Jesus, here in Luke 13, is trying to help us understand that that is not necessarily the case.

Jesus has been told that a group of Galileans were murdered by Pilate in their place of worship. Jesus responds, “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans?  No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.”[3] He then tells them about an accident in Jerusalem, when a tower collapsed. Did they die because they were sinners? No, they were no worse people than anyone else living in Jerusalem. Imagine Jesus saying, “don’t think you’re invincible and nothing bad will ever happen to you just because you’re following me around.” Sin doesn’t cause bad things to happen to bad people. That’s not what sin is about, and that’s not what repentance is about.

When I have done something wrong, I try to acknowledge it and apologize for it. That’s confession. Repentance is the work of making things right, of repairing what is broken. And what is broken is often a relationship, a trust, or even my relationship with God. Repairing the relationship, re-building trust, that is the work of repentance. It can be hard work, and it will take time.

Repentance also means to make a change, to change course so as to not repeat the same mistake again. Making a change in behavior, a change in how we are in relationship with another, that is the repentance that Jesus is talking about here.

The fig tree is the example used here. Fig trees typically start producing fruit within two years of being planted. This tree that has not borne fruit in three years is unusual, a problem. The owner of the vineyard sees it as a waste of space and resources. Yet the gardener tries to spare the tree, to give it one more chance to grow. “He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it.’”[4] Is the gardener seeking repentance for neglecting the tree? The gardener offers to change course, to try some extra care and attention in order to encourage the tree to bear fruit. That is one way to look at it. The gardener is saying, “It is my fault. I’m sorry. Let me make amends and try to set things right.”

Some scholars see the fig tree as a metaphor for and unrepentant Israel, God’s people who have fallen away, who are faced with God’s judgment. In that sense, the gardener is Jesus pleading for Israel to be given one last chance to change, to repair their relationship with God, to bear fruit. And it is through the extra love and care of Jesus, guiding them to change, that the people are given an opportunity to repent, to change their ways before the judgment of God falls upon them.

The call to repentance is a call to change. It is the opportunity to turn to God’s way that leads to peace, love, and life. Perhaps repentance and bearing fruit is not about turning from sinful ways or even the fear of God’s judgment, but about embracing change? The only constant in life is change, and no matter how we resist, how much we try to hold on to the past, time continues to go by. Maybe repentance is about changing to meet the changing needs of our selves, our communities, and our world. What has changed, and how can we respond to that change in a way that is consistent with the way of Jesus, the way of peace, love, and life?

Jesus gives us what we need in order to change. As the gardener gives extra care to the fig tree so that it may bear fruit, so we are given more love, care, hope, and encouragement so that we might bear fruit of repentance, fruit that will nourish the world that we inhabit. Let us do the work, not alone, but together, with Jesus in our midst, ensuring that we will not perish, but thrive.  Amen.

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[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] Romans 3:23.

[3] Luke 13:2-3.

[4] Luke 13:8.

What Then Should We Do?

December 12, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Isaiah 12:2-6; Luke 3:7-18[1]

John was not known for being soft. He lived in the wilderness, not the city. He was a prophet, not a priest. He came to shake things up, to preach a baptism of repentance, and prepare the way for Jesus. For us, it is worth considering how we prepare for Christmas, the arrival of the son of the Most High God. We tune our radios to the Christmas songs, decorate and bake and wrap. It is often a joyous time, though somewhat stressful as well, but we rarely think about repentance.

The thing is, we can’t get to Bethlehem and the baby in the manger without first encountering the prophet in the wilderness calling us to repentance. We can’t enjoy the fruit of the harvest if we don’t first determine if it is good to eat. For us, the year is coming to a close, and we might do well to examine the fruit that we have produced. Have we done good this year? Have we done right by the others we have encountered in our lives? How might we do better in the year to come?

John storms into our comfortable, familiar pre-Christmas planning and preparations to remind us that this should be a really big deal. “One who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals” (Luke 3:16). Santa Claus may be coming to town, but Jesus the son of God is being born, and we should take that seriously. John calls on us to reprioritize our lists and focus on the love of God and the love and care of our neighbor.

What, then, should we do? Fortunately, John offers us some practical advice. Engage in acts of mercy and justice. Share with those in need. Feed the hungry. Be fair; don’t try to get all you can get, but only what you need, and leave enough for others. Treat others with kindness, care, and respect. Be humble rather than greedy.

This is the time of year when we are most generous and outwardly focused. Churches and charities receive more donations in December than any other month of the year. Perhaps we’re grateful for making it through another year, especially one as hard as this one. Maybe as we reflect on years past we remember the good feeling that comes from giving. Whatever drives us to be generous, maybe we’re already responding to John’s call to be merciful knowing already the gift of God in Christ that we will celebrate again this year.

As we are filled with expectation, with memories of happy Christmases we’ve known, and hope for a better future, this is a good time to consider how we live out our faith. How should we act toward others in ways which reflect the faith we have in God? Let’s make unselfish choices, considering the impact we have on others. Let’s live within our means, accepting that we have what we need, and enough to share. Let’s do what is just, as John called on the tax-collectors and soldiers to do, being sure to not exploit our positions of power and privilege.

The people who gathered around John to be baptized sought to renew their commitment to God. In John’s call to baptism, to repent and commit their lives to God, John wanted to ensure that those who had followed him into the wilderness were aware of the serious, life-altering consequences of being baptized. What grows withing us that does not bear good fruit will be cut down like trees. The wheat within our hearts will be threshed, and the chaff will be burned away. Repentance means changing, ending the behaviors and thoughts that cause harm to others and to our relationship with God. It is not easy, nor painless.

Jesus, the Messiah, is coming to save us. The baptism of Christ is more than a washing clean. The fire of this baptism changes us from the inside out. This is what the church of Jesus Christ believes about baptism today. We are cleansed, renewed, and changed forever. The sins of our past are burned away and we face the new day with hearts cleaned and souls refreshed, ready to serve God and follow in the ways of our Savior.

The good news that John prepares us for, that Advents leads us to, is the new life, the changed life in Christ. With God’s Holy Spirit burning within us, we will no longer feel the pull of sin and death, but the drive to love and life. Mercy and justice become the way in which we walk through the world. Hope and peace, joy and love become part of who we are. The coming of God to live with us is what we anticipate. The gift of life in the realm of love is being born in our hearts and our spirits once again. Let us take joy in the presence of the Holy One, and rejoice in what is to come.  Amen.

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[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.

At the Beautiful Gate

April 18, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Acts 3:1-19; Luke 24:36b-48[1]

Astonishing. Surprising. Certainly unexpected. The lame man who always lay begging at the Beautiful Gate has been healed. There he was walking and leaping and praising God. How has this happened? Who did this? “While he clung to Peter and John, all the people ran together to them in the portico called Solomon’s Portico, utterly astonished.”[2] These two?

As the word spread, they gathered around Peter and John. What were they looking for? An explanation of what had happened? A powerful being with healing power? Healing for themselves, perhaps? Maybe just to see what all the fuss was about. For whatever reason, they came, lured by the spectacle, the surprising healing, the happening. And what did they find? Peter, giving a sermon.

Yes, here is a miracle, Peter seems to say. The health of this man has been restored. But you seem to think that we are the ones who did this. “Why do you stare at us, as though by our own power or piety we had made him walk?”[3]

People are hungry for miracle-workers. We have a hunger for powerful people, those who seem to have tapped into the healing power of the universe, who might heal us, or give us power. We gather to see the faith healer in the revival tent or the miracle worker on TV who zaps the feeble woman with the power of JEE-ZUS and up she leaps. We flock to the self-help guru, the doctor with the miracle diet, the speaker who tells of the secret power of positive thinking. We believe that they have the answers, the magic touch, the wisdom or technique that will fix what is broken in our lives.

You’ve got it all wrong, declares Peter. It wasn’t John or me, it wasn’t our power or piety. The healing came from “The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, the God of our ancestors [who] has glorified his servant Jesus.”[4] God is the healer. The name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth is the pathway. We are but faithful servants. We are no more powerful than any of you. “The faith that is through Jesus has given him this perfect health in the presence of all of you.”

We know a bit more about Peter that his audience did that day in the portico. We know that this was one of the closest friends of Jesus, the rock on which the church would be built. We also know that Peter denied Jesus three times the night before the crucifixion. Peter knew all about rejection. Peter also knew the power of rulers to oppress, how the Romans handled threats to their power. Peter knew that the Empire of Rome allowed for no king but Caesar, and demanded worship of Caesar as divine.

As modern readers of this text, we could easily misunderstand the challenge that Peter offers to his fellow Jews. Christians through the centuries have forgotten that the Jesus movement was originally a Jewish movement, and have used these words by Peter, and other writings in the New Testament, as justification for the persecution and murder of Jews. Far too many have read the words “you handed over,” “you rejected,” “you killed,” as invectives justifying anti-Semitism. Far too many have forgotten that Peter and all the other disciples, and Jesus himself, were Jews. Far too few put themselves in the place of those who listened to Peter that day.

Peter was not preaching God’s vengeance, or a decree of God’s punishment. The people of Israel worshiped, and worship still, the same God worshiped by Christians. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is the God of Jesus, Mary, and Peter. The God of life, the power of Creation, is the God that Jesus embodied, the incarnation of the God of life among us. For Peter, and for us, the message is forgiveness, healing, salvation from sin and new life. For us, we must remember that the God who loves us never stopped loving the Jewish people, and that we are called along our path as they are called along theirs.

When we return to the Beautiful Gate, what we find is one who has been healed. Rather than look for who to blame for this healing, or ask how this could be done, might we instead celebrate that salvation has come, life has been restored, and the God of life lives among us? What Peter begins to teach them is that ours is a resurrection God, the living God who brings life, healing, and salvation to an Easter world. In an Easter world, the healing, forgiving, and loving power of God is everywhere, as pervasive as sunshine and rain.

When we see signs of God’s work in the world, when health is restored, relationships mended, the hungry are fed, and the poor hear good news, we may be astonished. We should celebrate and be glad that the living God is among us, that the Author of Life continues to breathe life into the world.

We should also recognize that we are called to do more than celebrate. “Repent therefore, and turn to God so that your sins may be wiped out.”[5] Peter’s sermon calls us to see not only the shiny world of happy people, but the reality of a world where healing, forgiveness, and love are sorely needed. Peter’s call to repentance is a call to recognize that there is still healing to be done, that our connection to God wears out and needs mending from time to time. Peter’s reminder that Christ was crucified is a challenge to not repeat the terrible past, but turn and return to God. Let us renew our faith in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, receive strength, healing, and forgiveness, and be witnesses to a beautiful God in a beautiful world.  Amen.

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[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] Acts 3:11.

[3] Acts 3:12.

[4] Acts 3:13.

[5] Acts 3:19.

Prayer and Repentance

February 21, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

2 Chronicles 6:36-40; Mark 1:9-15[1]

When I was a kid, we didn’t give anything up for Lent. Now, maybe some people in our church did, but we didn’t make a big deal about it. We celebrated Lent; we had a Shrove Tuesday pancake supper and played some silly games. We didn’t do the ashes on Wednesday, however. I remember saying, naively, to a friend, “You’ve got some dirt on your forehead.”

I do remember being asked by a friend or two, “What are you giving up for Lent?” Was I a bad Christian because, at first, I didn’t understand the question? “Um, nothing?” I felt like I was missing out on something, something important.

What is Lent really about, anyway? “The traditional purpose of Lent is the preparation of the believer — through prayer, penitence, almsgiving and self-denial — for the annual commemoration during Holy Week of the Death and Resurrection of Jesus.”[2] Prayer serves to direct our attention to God. Penitence is “the condition of being sorrowful and remorseful for sins one has committed.”[3] Almsgiving is charity, giving to those in need and thus showing love for our neighbor. And self-denial is the giving-something-up which is meant to redirect our thoughts and energy from bodily or earthly things to spiritual or divine things. Lent was originally the time when candidates prepared for baptism, which took place during the Easter vigil, the Saturday night before Easter Sunday morning. It was an intense period of fasting and prayer.

As we know from the story of Noah, and as we heard in Solomon’s prayer, God knows that people will be people. We will sin, for “there is no one who does not sin.”[4] We will do wrong. People are weak-willed and short-sighted, and we mess things up. However, God also loves us, and “if [we] repent with all [our] heart and soul,”[5] God will hear our prayer and forgive us. So, what is Lent really about? It’s about coming to our senses. It’s about realizing that we have done wrong, that we have sinned, and repenting. Lent is about focusing on getting right with God.

We celebrate Lent because we need help keeping our focus on God. It’s okay if we stumble, if we fail, if we fall short. We’re not perfect; no one is. God knows that the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Lent gives us a chance to try to be better. We should try, because when we do, we store up treasures in heaven, and that treasure can’t be taken from us. When we repent, we hear more clearly the good news, and we get closer to the kingdom of God.

There is something powerful in the act of repentance, really feeling sorry for the wrongs we have done and actively trying to make it right, that can make a difference in the way we live our lives. If we take it seriously, if we take prayer and repentance seriously, maybe something in us can change for good. Maybe something in the world around us can change for good.

We’re familiar with the act of self-denial, even if we don’t practice it as part of a Lenten observance. We diet for our health or to fit into the swimsuit this summer. Some of us even fast, going without food, or sweets, or indulgences for a time.

We’re also familiar with alms-giving. We write our checks weekly to the church for the offering. We donate to the Heifer Project, or One Great Hour of Sharing, to the Lions or the Rotary, and maybe the Salvation Army. We might even volunteer our time to help in a food pantry or soup kitchen.

Another way to look at alms-giving is to think of it as other-sustaining. We know the phrase “love your neighbor.” To love often means to sustain the life of the one who is loved. It’s something we already do, but we can take this moment, these forty days of Lent, to give our other-sustaining efforts a new intensity.

We share our bread with the hungry, and the M.O.R.E. Food Pantry patrons are grateful. We help shelter women who have been abused with our donations to Turning Point. Our rummage sale provided clothing and household items to many in need. But these things just treat the symptoms, they don’t cure the disease. We can do more. We can do more to loose the bonds of injustice, to let the oppressed go free, and to satisfy the needs of the afflicted.

This Lenten season let us really try to be constant in prayer, to seek God in every moment, to be prepared to answer when we hear the call. This Lenten season, let us repent; not merely feeling sorry for the wrong things we have said and done, but really making an effort to correct our mistakes. This Lenten season, let us be generous with our money, with our time, and with our love. This Lenten season, let us deny ourselves what we don’t need, and sustain others with all that we can. This Lenten season, may we be heralds and harbingers of the coming kingdom of God.

There is good news to be shared. God loves us, and even if we sin against God we can be forgiven. God hears our prayers and keeps the promises. God maintains our cause as we seek to love God and love our neighbors as ourselves. When we walk in the steps of Jesus, we have a firm foundation. Let us go in peace to love and serve the world.  Amen.

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[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] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lent.

[3] Donald K. McKim, Westminster Dictionary of Theological Terms (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1996).

[4] 2 Chronicles 6:36.

[5] 2 Chronicles 6:38.

A Way in the Wilderness

December 6, 2020

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

Isaiah 40:1-11; Mark 1:1-8[1]

Imagine that you live in Israel, in the year 70 CE. Life is hard enough for most people, most of the time. But add to that the war. A group of radicals has revolted against the Roman occupation, and Jerusalem is under siege. Anxiety is in the air as people fear the Roman soldiers, the rebel guerillas, and the uncertainty of a world in turmoil. Some want God to bring military leaders to push the Roman Empire out of the Holy Land. Others advocate submitting to Roman rule as the only path to peace and security.

There is one group that doesn’t choose either side, the followers of a Galilean holy-man named Jesus, who was crucified some forty years ago. The rabbis say they’re heretics, the rebels dismiss them as ineffective against the Roman occupation, and the Romans assume they are continuing the insurrection of their founder. Interestingly, the followers of “the Way,” as they call themselves, say that the death of Jesus is “good news” for Israel. They make some other bold claims as well: that he was the Messiah and that he was the Son of God.

This “Son of God” business, well that’s a pretty direct challenge to the authority of Rome. That title in Latin, divi filius, is written on coins next to the images of the emperors. That’s might have been what got him killed. No one besides the Roman Emperor is supposed to call themselves the son of God.

To claim that he was the Messiah is a threat to the religious leaders, and probably doesn’t look good to the rebel zealots either. After all, the Messiah was supposed to be the return of a ruler like King David, who would restore the fortunes of Israel and usher in the reign of God. If the Messiah was crucified like a criminal, that pretty much buries any hope of getting rid of the Romans.

Sometime around the year 70, Mark wrote down his Gospel. “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” From that title you might expect the story to talk of rebellion. But it begins with John the Baptizer calling for repentance. John calls people out of the city, out from their farms, into the wilderness, saying: confess your sins, be washed clean in the river, and prepare for one who is to come.

Repentance and confession sound more like bad news than good. They both require taking an honest look at ourselves and our past, and changing the direction of our lives. Yet they do speak to a longing for something different, something better. They speak to that longing within us for a deeper experience of life, for a closer connection with the holy. Repentance prepares us for the restoration of our relationship with God. We need to renew that relationship because we’re lost, lost in the wilderness, lost from who we’re supposed to be, in exile spiritually if not materially.

Mark sets the stage for what is about to unfold by taking us back to the prophets of Israel. Isaiah spoke of God restoring Israel after the exile in Babylon. In the sixth century BCE, Babylon invaded Judah, destroyed much of Jerusalem, and exiled the leading citizens to Babylon. What were once sources of stability and security – the temple, the monarchy, and the covenant – were broken, destroyed. God, it seemed, had abandoned the Israelites, or perhaps had been defeated by Marduk, the Babylonian god.

In the depths of their despair, God responds to the exiles with a word of hope. “Comfort, O comfort my people.” Isaiah offers a different source of security. Hope that is based on human institutions is destined to fail. People are corruptible and break their promises. There is only one sure source of security: “The grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand forever.” Though everything else will fail, God’s Word endures, and God will lead us home.

Although the Jews in Mark’s time are not in exile, they are under foreign occupation, exiled in their own land. Again, the sense that God has abandoned them is palpable. John the Baptizer offers the comfort of Isaiah to these first-century exiles. “Prepare the way of the Lord.” The crowds listen to John’s words of hope. There is a way out of despair, and it is a way already known to God’s people: it is a way in the wilderness.

To be in the wilderness is, in a sense, to get lost. It is to be disturbed from our every-day, carefully ordered, predictable lives. It is to wander without a planned destination. It is to be alone, and yet open to the presence of God. There can be a peace in being alone when we realize how tiny we are, and yet we are one with the universe. In the wilderness we can be still and know the presence of God.

Many of us are living in a metaphorical wilderness, a spiritual exile. Our consumer lifestyle makes our lives into commodities to be measured by our contributions to the economy. Our thirst for ever more scarce resources has us at each other’s throats, in our communities and around the world. We can hardly find the time to share a meal with our family, to play with our children, to talk with a grandparent, or write a letter to a distant relative. Add to that our current circumstances, coping with a pandemic that we know will continue for months yet, with all the stress that is putting on our hospitals, jobs, and schools. It grows more and more difficult to keep connected to God.

It is in the loss and the feeling of being lost that we find ourselves in the wilderness. It can also be in the literal wilderness that we feel the greatest need to be with God. In his book, Renewal in the Wilderness, John Lionberger says: “This is why people, from ancient times to modern, continue to seek out the wilderness: to leave the everyday, to simplify, to open our lives to the possibility of God’s personal interest in us, and to experience the transcendent.”[2] Whether we seek out wilderness, or discover ourselves to be already lost, it is there that we are more open to God entering into our lives to transform them.

We need the wilderness, whether it is the wilderness of the natural world, or a more metaphorical wilderness of the spirit. We need to get lost from the ordinary and steep ourselves in the extraordinary. We need to encounter our mortality, to know that we are small beings in a vast creation; and we need to know that we are not insignificant in the eyes of God. We need to be shaken out of the ordinariness of our days and awaken to the peace that comes when we drink deep of the living water.

Isaiah cries out: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord.” Get out of the ordinary and get ready for the extraordinary. The messenger calls to us in our spiritual exile to prepare for the one who is to come. It is in the wilderness that the path is made straight for the coming of God. John the Baptizer calls us to the wilderness to shake us from our complacency. Repent and confess your sins. Prepare for something new. Prepare the way, he says, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me.” Get ready for the changes that are taking place by preparing a welcome for the Lord.

So, we repent, and prepare to start anew. And it is powerful to feel the refreshing wind of the wilderness blow through us and stir the flames of our smoldering spirits. But our journey is not over once we return from the wilderness. Our personal spiritual fulfillment is not our ultimate goal. Our work has only just begun. After all, there are others around us who are still lost, who still feel exiled from God’s presence. A friend who was a professor at Iliff School of Theology in Denver, Richard Ward, wants us to know that we have a great responsibility as those who prepare the way:

We like to cast ourselves as the shepherds who hear choirs of angels broadcast the startling announcement of God’s coming. But these words are not just for us to savor like food at a holiday feast. We are in the position of the celestial ones, trying to find a way to speak the Word to God’s people.[3]

We are the angels. We are the heralds of the Messiah’s birth. “God with us is now residing,” says the hymn. God is entering into human life to bring us out of our exile. God’s compassion will bring us comfort in despair. God’s light will bring us out of the darkness of our spiritual exile. God has not abandoned us, and God’s forgiveness will restore us to right relationship. God’s peace will bring an end to the turmoil.

What hope this was to the exiles in Babylon! What joy the baptized must have felt on the banks of the Jordan. What good news this is for a world in crisis, for those who are lost in the spiritual exile of today! This Advent season is the time for us to be angels. We are the heralds who cry out in the wilderness: Behold! “To you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”[4] O come, Emmanuel. Gloria in Excelsis Deo! May the peace of Christ be with all of you. Amen.

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[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] John Lionberger, Renewal in the Wilderness: A Spiritual Guide to Connecting with God in the Natural World (Woodstock, VT: Skylight Paths Publishing, 2007), p. 24.

[3] Richard F. Ward, “Homiletical Perspective on Isaiah 40:1-11” in David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, eds. Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year B, Vol. 1 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008), p. 29.

[4] Luke 2:11.

One in a Hundred

September 6, 2020

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

Psalm 28:6-9; Matthew 18:12-14[1]

This parable from Matthew is one of several lost-and-found stories. We can easily identify with searching for something that is lost – our keys, our phone, our mask, our kids. In this parable, and others about searching for what is lost, we are meant to be the lost ones, the ones who are the object of another’s search. We are lost, not necessarily in the sense of not knowing where we are, but in the sense of being searched for, lost to someone else. We are the ones for whom someone is searching.

When we are lost, like a child in the store, we can sometimes forget that someone is looking for us. We start frantically looking everywhere, and usually getting further and further away from where we started. If you’re lost in the wilderness, we’re taught that the first thing you should do is stop, calm down, and make a plan. If you know someone will be looking for you, you’ll be better able to hear them calling if you remain calm and still.

When we are lost in more metaphorical ways, it can be harder to remember that we are being looked for, that someone wants to bring us back into the fold. Like the lost sheep, the one in a hundred who has gone astray, we are searched for, and when we are found, rejoiced over. We are found, not because we go seeking, but because we are sought. The good news is that we are sought for by Christ, and we have always already been found.

Now, our role is not to actively go astray, playing hide-and-seek with God, saying “catch me if you can!” Nor is our role to be passive, waiting and waiting to be found, doing nothing to improve our situation. Our role is to be attentive, recognize that we are lost, and be open to being found. It is listening for the voice of the one calling out to us and turning toward the one who seeks us.

As the lost, the ones who have gone astray, we are the sinners, the ones in need of being found, of being saved. We aren’t the ones doing the saving; but, in order to be saved, we must listen for the voice that is calling and turn toward the finder. We must repent, recognizing that we are lost and need finding, we are sinners in need of saving. In this way, the work of salvation involves recognizing our sin, and having the willingness to be saved from it.

We sometimes find ourselves seeking for what we have lost. Perhaps it is a sense of purpose, belonging, or our faith that there really is a shepherd seeking us out. It takes a lot more energy to search than it does to get lost, doesn’t it? At least in searching we feel like we are in control of things, we’re looking for what we’ve lost, we’re trying to DO something. Maybe if I just go to church more, or pray more, or listen to the Christian music station I’ll restore my faith, find my purpose, or feel like I belong again.

In that kind of search, looking for our lost faith or to fill the emptiness that we feel, we can spend a lot of time and energy on temporary fill-ups and grabbing hold of anything we find. They fade, because they were not what we were looking for, and we continue searching. Perhaps what we need is to allow ourselves to stop searching, to quiet our troubled minds, and allow ourselves to be found. The Lord has heard the sound of our pleadings. The shepherd seeks us out. Will we accept that we are lost and allow ourselves to be found?

Most of the time, we are the ninety-nine sheep, never going astray. We may feel like the shepherd has abandoned us to go looking for the one who deserved to get lost, always wandering off like that. We might resent the attention that the shepherd gives to the lost sheep, even though we are safe with the herd, surrounded by green pastures and still waters. This is when it helps to recognize that we have always been found, and to know that if we were to get lost, the shepherd would look for us too. Then our role becomes the celebrators of the one who is found.

The parables of the lost and found end with the coming together of friends and neighbors to celebrate, to rejoice that the one who went astray has been found. Rejoicing is the goal, the happy moment of finding and being found. Salvation is more than just being rescued, restored to community, being reunited with the shepherd and the flock. Salvation is the celebration, the rejoicing over the return of the lost ones. It is also rejoicing with the shepherd who is our strength and shield, the one our hearts trust; who makes our hearts exult, and with our songs we will give thanks to the Lord.

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[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.

Down the Road

April 26, 2020

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

Luke 24:13-35

How did we get here? I have been reading a lot about what has brought us to this crisis, the breakdown of systems that has left us vulnerable to this disease. I have also been reading about the dedication and sacrifice of those who are doing their best to save lives and provide for the needs of others. I am grateful for those who are helping me understand how all that is happening connects to the larger story of who we are. And this story of an encounter on the road to Emmaus draws similar connections between the intense events of that week in Jerusalem so long ago, and the long history of God’s work of salvation.

This passage from Luke would actually fit chronologically before the story from last week. In Luke’s telling, the women who go to the tomb in the early morning see only two men in dazzling clothes; they do not encounter the risen Jesus. This journey to Emmaus reflects the ambiguous time between the empty tomb and the appearance of Jesus to the disciples and Thomas behind locked doors.

As they travel, the two disciples converse about the dramatic events of the past few days. When the stranger joins them, the recount the mission of Jesus and the events of the passion, but without fully understanding their meaning.

Luke’s Gospel sets the entire story in the context of journey, the journey from Galilee to Jerusalem, and in the following story of Acts, the journey of the early community from Jerusalem “to the ends of the earth.”[1] The early Christians were known as the people of the Way, or people of the journey. As one scholar describes it, “For Luke the journey of Jesus and of the church itself expresses the unfolding history of salvation that finds its origin In Israel and through the Spirit extends salvation to the ‘ends of the earth.’”[2]

What Jesus interpreted to them from the scriptures, from Moses and all the prophets, is the story of God’s saving work revealed through the people and history of Israel. God’s story is one of life emerging from death, of the journey of renewal, reconciliation, and transformation. As Jesus reveals the connections between the story they know and the story they have just witnessed, they begin to understand the meaning of Jesus’ death and resurrection. This is some of what they might have heard.

The story of the Exodus from Egypt is a story of bondage, liberation, a journey, and a destination. It begins with the Hebrews as slaves in Egypt. Daily life was hard labor with perhaps enough food to survive on, but not much more. By means of the plagues, God liberates the people from Pharaoh. They are led into the wilderness by Moses. There they journey for forty years toward the Promised Land.

This story suggests that the human condition is slavery or bondage. You and I are in bondage to many things, such as cultural messages about what we should be like, what it means to be successful, attractive, and to live the good life. We can also be enslaved to fears, addictions, or other kinds of oppression. We might be trapped by debt, or the fear of losing employer-supplied health insurance. The story of Moses and the people seeking freedom remains a particularly poignant one for the descendants of African slaves in America.

God’s salvation comes as the people are led from bondage to liberation, leaving Egypt and Pharaoh. It also involves a journey through the wilderness. It is in the wilderness where God is encountered and known. It can also be a place of fear and anxiety where we sometimes find ourselves longing for the security of Egypt, of the familiar things of the past. But the wilderness is also a place where we are nourished by God and where God journeys with us. The destination is life in the presence of God.

We might think our current situation is bondage, trapped in our homes by fear of the virus and the need to slow the spread so that our hospitals are not overwhelmed. But maybe we are really in the wilderness, a journey of the mind and the spirit, experiencing anxiety and a longing for what we had before. But in the wilderness, we might find ourselves sustained by the manna of God, the efforts of our family and friends to reach out over the phone and the internet to support one another. And the end of this journey may reveal a new way of living more carefully with one another, more grateful for the opportunity to gather, and more blessed by the touch of a hand or a hug.

Through the prophets we learn of the exile. The exile began in 587 BCE, when, after Jerusalem and its temple were conquered and destroyed by the Babylonians, some of the survivors were marched into exile in Babylon some 800 miles away. There they lived as refugees, far from home and oppressed. Fifty years later, the Babylonian Empire was conquered by the Persians, who allowed the Jews to return to their homeland.

We live in a time when millions of exiles and refugees know this experience firsthand. It is an experience of separation from all that is familiar. People contend with powerlessness and often oppression and victimization. There is sadness, loneliness, and grief. It is a yearning for home and a place where we belong. It can also mean the loss of meaning or a sense of purpose. These feelings may be familiar to us in this time, when familiar ways of working, learning, gathering, and traveling have changed.

God’s salvation from exile leads the people on a journey of return. The religious life is a journey to the place where God is present, a homecoming, and God assists those who undertake the journey. We may not be able to return from our exile yet. But there will be a return, a time to gather once again in familiar places with friends and family. As God spoke through the prophet Jeremiah, “I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile.”[3] As the days of our quarantine stretch into weeks and months, we may ask, like the exiles, “How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?”[4] Perhaps in the days ahead we will sing a new song, a song of joy as we gather together again.

Another way in which we understand salvation comes from the days of the temple, the priesthood, and sacrifice. It is a story of sin, guilt, sacrifice, and forgiveness. When we people turn away from God, we are in a state of sin and brokenness. When we are lost from the ways of God we need to return to God, to repent, to be cleansed, washed, or covering over. When we have done wrong, we need forgiveness. We need to sacrifice to God to make up for what we have done wrong. Since the early Middle Ages, some Christians have understood Jesus as the dying savior whose death is a sacrifice for our sins, thereby making our forgiveness by God possible. “Jesus died for our sins.”

This image of Jesus is powerful, and can be a sign of God’s great love for us, as we know from John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” The message is simple, direct, and radical: we are accepted, just as we are. Our own sense of sin, impurity, and guilt need not stand between us and God. New beginnings are possible.

Each of these stories is part of the grand story of God’s work of salvation. For some of us, the need is liberation; for others, the need is homecoming; and for still others, the need is acceptance. Each of these stories helps us to understand what it means to be Christian, living life as a journey whose central quality is a deepening and transforming relationship with God.

Where do we go from here? The story doesn’t end with supper that night in Emmaus. That was a moment of revelation, a vision of the living Christ in the breaking of the bread. It was also a moment of understanding that their journey was not ended, but just beginning.

The story of Jesus is the story of discipleship. The word disciple means “a follower after somebody.” Discipleship is a following after Jesus, a journeying with Jesus. It is a journey, not alone, but in a company of fellow disciples. The Christian life is about being in relationship with God, which transforms us into more and more compassionate beings, changing into the likeness of Christ.

Our journey also continues, and though we can’t yet leave our homes, we can think about what is coming down the road. Things won’t be the “normal” we had before. The disciples didn’t just go back to fishing. We will make changes in our lives. If nothing else, we will begin to see and appreciate more of the people who make the world work, the grocery clerks, truck drivers, farmers and field hands, janitors, meat packers, mail carriers, and others who are more essential than we realized. We’ll have a greater appreciation for doctors and nurses, lab techs and EMTs.

I hope that down the road we will realize our interconnectedness in new ways, and be more grateful for all the people in our lives. I hope that when we break bread together, the living Christ will be made known to us. And I pray that we will continue on in the Way, the journey which takes us ever-closer to the One who saves us.  Amen.

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[1] Acts 1:8. 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] Donald Senior, Exegetical Perspective on Luke 24:13-35 in Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year A, Vol. 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, General Editors (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), p. 421.

[3] Jeremiah 29:14.

[4] Psalm 137:4.

I Regard Everything as Loss

February 26, 2020, Ash Wednesday

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

Joel 2:1-2, 12-17; 2 Corinthians 5:20b - 6:10

For the prophet Joel, it seems, things were pretty bad. “Sound the alarm!” “The day of the Lord is coming!” And unless you really think the world is ending in November, we don’t really share Joel’s passion. Of course, our nation hasn’t been invaded by the Assyrians, the Babylonians, the Persians, the Greeks, the Romans, or a swarm of locusts that turns the day to darkness. But we should not be so complacent as to think that we don’t need God.

After all, there is plenty in the world today to be worried about. Will there ever be peace in the Middle-East? Will the Corona virus wipe us all out? Will climate change cause ever-increasingly powerful storms? Maybe things aren’t as bad for us as they were for Joel, but we could stand to take some time to return to God, to reflect on our spiritual life, and to examine how we relate to the world.

What is Lent really about, anyway? “The traditional purpose of Lent is the preparation of the believer—through prayer, penitence, almsgiving and self-denial—for the annual commemoration during Holy Week of the Death and Resurrection of Jesus.”[1] Prayer serves to direct our attention to God. Penitence is “the condition of being sorrowful and remorseful for sins one has committed.”[2] Almsgiving is charity, giving to those in need and thus showing love for our neighbor. And self-denial is the giving-something-up which is meant to redirect our thoughts and energy from bodily or earthly things to spiritual or divine things. Lent was originally the time when candidates prepared for baptism, which took place during the Easter vigil, the Saturday night before Easter Sunday morning. It was an intense period of fasting and prayer.

Ash Wednesday is the first day of Lent, the forty-day period leading up to Easter Sunday. (Sundays are not counted as part of Lent since every Sunday is a celebration of the resurrection.) The forty days symbolize the forty days Jesus spent fasting in the wilderness before he began his public ministry. Ash Wednesday gets its name from the practice of placing ashes on the foreheads of the faithful as a sign of repentance. The act echoes the ancient Near Eastern tradition of throwing ashes over one’s head to signify repentance before God.[3] You may recall that Job, after arguing his case before God and being humbled, repented in sack-cloth and ashes. The ashes are also a reminder of our mortality, as we read in Genesis 3:19, “You are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

To repent means to “turn again,” to turn, or re-turn to God. Do you ever feel like you have been turned away from God, headed off in pursuit of something less than your best self? I feel that way at times, and I get dizzy trying to turn the right way. Sometimes I don’t want to turn, because I feel guilty for turning away in the first place. But I do keep turning; because I know what Joel is telling us is true. God is “gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.” It’s usually not easy to repent, to try to make up for what I have done wrong, but at least I don’t have to wear a sack and sit in a pile of ashes when I do it.

It is good to have a time when we focus on what we have done wrong. It is a good thing to recognize that we all make mistakes, that we have all hurt others, and that we could all stand to pray more, do more to help others, and make do with less. “Now is the acceptable time,” says Paul, “now is the day of salvation!” Now is the time for a few small repairs.

Maybe what we should focus on is our stuff. We have too much stuff, and a lot of it is unnecessary and unused. Some of our stuff was so important for us to have just a short time ago, and now it’s not stuff anymore, it’s trash. It can take a lot of time and money to deal with all of our stuff too. We have to store our stuff, clean our stuff, buy, sell, and dispose of our stuff. Maybe Lent is the time to really take a look at our stuff and decide: which stuff is necessary, which stuff is good (meaning that it brings greater joy, freedom, love, health, and connection to God and those around us), and which stuff is bad (meaning it takes away from those things). And maybe it’s time to give away some of our stuff to people who could benefit from it more than us.

Maybe we should focus on food. Fasting is a traditional practice in lent. Going without sweets, eating less, or even eating things that are better for us can really change how we feel, how we look, and how much we enjoy the food that we do have. We have to be careful to not over-do it, especially people who have an eating disorder. Maybe it’s where and with whom we eat that needs some study. Sharing a meal builds connections between us, and is a way of nourishing one another with more than just the food. I could stand to eat alone less often.

Maybe our focus should be on our time and how we spend it. Maybe we need to work on our relationships and practicing forgiveness. Maybe we should let go of the things that are dragging us down. Whatever we focus on, Christ invites us to be reconciled to God, accept the grace of God, and be free from the obstacle of sin that blocks our way.

The Apostle Paul, living his life as a servant of God, spreading the gospel and starting churches, did not have it easy. And it seems foolish to follow a path that leads to “afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, [and] hunger.” And yet that is the path that Paul invites us to walk. To live as a Christian, to really live life as Jesus would have us live, can be a dangerous thing. It is not a choice to make lightly. You might want to reflect for a while on whether you really want to follow Jesus. I suggest that you think about it for, say, forty days.

Now Paul managed to endure all that suffering and still rejoice, still feel like he possessed everything. How did he do it? He had the weapons of righteousness with which to defend himself. He had “purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love, truthful speech, and the power of God.” He had faith in the God who saved the world. He had all that he needed because he knew the risen Christ. In the words that he wrote to the Philippians: “I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him.”[4] I pray that we will all come to know Christ as Paul did. Amen.

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[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lent.

[2] Donald K. McKim, Westminster Dictionary of Theological Terms (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1996).

[3] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ash_Wednesday.

[4] Philippians 3:8-9. 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.