Casting Nets

February 6, 2022
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Luke 5:1-11[1]

Simon and the others had caught nothing. After a disappointing night of fishing, they were cleaning their nets. There is a crowd gathering, and the focus of their attention, Jesus, hops in Simon’s boat and asks him to push off so he can speak from out on the water. As his voiced carried across the water to the folk gathered on shore, Simon had a front-row seat.

This was probably not the first travelling preacher Simon had heard. There had been others. Some, like John had called people to repentance. Others tried to gather an army to take on the Romans. This one was different. He wasn’t trying to get people to go somewhere in particular, or do something for him; rather, he spoke about becoming closer to God, cleaning up their hearts and souls, and caring as much for others as they did for themselves. He may have even used the cleaning of the nets as a metaphor for washing away sins and becoming like new again.

What he did next was also different. He said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.”[2] In practical terms, this was a big ask. First of all, they mostly fished in the shallows, closer to shore. That’s where the fish were more likely to be searching for food, and would be an easier catch. Then, knowing they had worked all night and caught nothing, Jesus asks them to go out to fish again. Then again, Jesus seemed so confident that they would catch something. “If you say so, I will let down the nets.”[3]

Doesn’t it seem as though it’s when were at the end of our rope, we’ve tried and tried without success, that God steps in, Jesus reaches out to us, not knowing whether we’ll even answer. In this moment with Simon, Jesus takes the risk, choosing this fisherman out of all the others, asking him to do what seems impossible. Neither of them could know there would be fish to catch out there, but Jesus asks him to trust, and try anyway.

People like the predictable, the routine. It is scary to take a risk on something new. Yet that is what Jesus is asking, of Simon, and of us, to put out into the deep, unfamiliar waters, to break with our routine and allow the extraordinary to become possible. Keeping to the safe and familiar, to the shallows, keeps us from experiencing the wider, deeper world out there. The most profound and significant experiences of God and life are found in the unknown, the unfamiliar, the moments when we’re asked to stretch beyond what we know to something more.

For Simon, there was something about this man that compelled him to leave the shore, and the shallows, and cast his nets in the deep water. Maybe it was that no one had ever asked him to trust in that way, by someone who risked looking the fool if this didn’t work. If there were no fish out there, Simon would not be surprised, and there would be no loss except for the need to clean the nets again. The worst that could happen is we don’t catch anything, again.

When the nets began to strain with the catch, Simon knew this was no simple preacher. He becomes aware that he is in the presence of the divine. He also recognizes that he is unworthy of such holy recognition, a sinful man who would rightly fear the power of God. What happens next is the real moment of transformation. What happens next is why we all respond to Jesus with trust, gratitude, and hope.

Jesus, the Son of God, mediator of the divine in human form, does not strike down Simon for his sin, his doubt, nor for any of his failings. Instead, Jesus casts a net to bring him in. Jesus casts a net to pull in James and John too, to capture their hearts and invite them into the relationship which will change their lives. “Do not be afraid,” he says, I’m not here to punish sinners, but to change you into saints. I am here to call you to the work of casting nets to catch people.

The thing about the net that Jesus is casting is that it is not the kind of net that turns animals into food. This is not a net that imprisons, but a net that frees. This is a net that pulls people from danger and death into safety, life, and love. “From now on you will be catching people.”[4] Not to make them captive, but to save them and set them free.

Simon and the others have been caught in the net of Jesus. Their lives transformed by this experience, these fishermen become disciples. In a commentary on this passage, Howard Gregory captures the change in Simon. “Having hauled in this huge catch of fish, having been given the opportunity to make a good return, thus reversing the earlier fruitless expedition, Simon now does the strangest thing. He pulls ashore his boat, with the catch, and walks away from it, livelihood and all.”[5]

Many of us recognize this moment of transformation. Something changes, perhaps our circumstances, perhaps something inside, and we make a vocational change. We may be forced out into the open water, or choose to walk away from what is not working for us anymore. For some, like me, it is a call to service in the ministry. Perhaps, like me, you have also made a life change. I used to work at a bank, and I made pretty good money. I walked away, and it cost me. It meant putting God at the center of my life, changing my focus from my self toward others. It has meant hard work, sometimes after a long night when no fish were caught. But following the Master has its rewards.

Not everyone in the crowd on the shore was convinced to follow Jesus. We only know that Simon, James and John went with him that day. But the net that is cast by the Lord is a big net, and we are still being caught in it today. I am grateful for the change it brought about in my life. I am blessed to have made a positive difference in the lives of people I have served. And I pray that you, too, may feel that net holding you close to the One who transforms hearts and sets spirits free.  Amen.

---

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

[2] Luke 5:4.

[3] Luke 5:5.

[4] Luke 5:10.

[5] Howard K. Gregory, Pastoral Perspective on Luke 5:1-11 in Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year C, Vol. 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, General Editors (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), p 336.

Show Me the Scars

April 11, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

1 John 1:1-4; John 20:19-31[1]

Have you ever been not believed? “No, really. I saw it. It was right there!” It’s even worse when the doubt is delivered in a condescending tone. “Yeah? Suuure. Oh, I believe you.” When the other disciples told Thomas “We have seen the Lord,” they must have been hurt when he said, “Unless I see… I will not believe.” This was one of their own brothers, one who had lived and travelled and experienced the living Jesus right along with them. Why wouldn’t he believe them?

It is easy for us to impose our twenty-first century scientific worldview on the situation and defend Thomas. After all, we are trained to be skeptical, to test and verify what we hear. Don’t trust anything you read on the internet, right? Thomas is suspicious. He didn’t experience it himself, so he needs to see in order to believe. That’s understandable. How can he know it is really Jesus if he doesn’t see the wounds?

Sometimes wounds are a tool of conveying identity or experience. Scars have a tale to tell – “I’ve been there.” We can learn a lot from people who carry the scars of their experiences. Want to know what combat is really like? Ask a wounded veteran. Want to know what prison is like? Talk with an ex-con. Want to know what to expect from your upcoming surgery? Ask your neighbor who has been through it. “We’re you there when they crucified my Lord?” Show me the scars, Jesus, and I’ll know it’s really you.

When I was a student at the Chicago Theological Seminary, we had a youth program called DEPTH. Yes, we brought young people to the seminary for a weekend event. The word was an acronym. The “P” stood for “Partner”; an event where we would bring two different youth groups together for a weekend of learning and service together. The two groups would often be from different contexts – one suburban, Caucasian, the other urban and African-American or Latino.

One weekend in particular we invited guest speakers, one of whom was a former gang member and CeaseFire[2] outreach worker. CeaseFire was an anti-violence program which would attempt to mitigate conflict on the street before it turned violent. These people were often former gang members, who used their street credibility as an inroad to show community members better ways of communicating with each other and how to resolve conflicts peacefully.

When our guest spoke about his experiences, and why he had joined the gang, the room grew silent. He spoke about a deep need for belonging, to be part of something bigger than himself, and to be important and respected in a world where the color of his skin, his accent, and the neighborhood he was from labeled him as less than others. He had lived that life, nearly died from it, and finally escaped from it. As he spoke, you knew that TRUTH was being spoken. He had the scars to prove it. The kids in the room who had been showing off and acting tough were now hanging on his every word, and we had to start dinner an hour late.

This man, now in his thirties, had learned conflict-resolution skills, understood the legal and penal system from the inside, and had a way of helping kids see the inherent value in themselves. Despite all the strikes against him, despite all the negativity, racism, and fear directed at him, he had found a way to respect himself, and respect others, to value life more than money, peace more than power, love more than hatred. “I was a gangster;” he said, “now, I’m a person.”

Must we see in order to believe? Is seeing truly believing? Are we prisoners of our senses, distrusting and rejecting whatever we cannot see, touch, taste, smell, or hear? Thomas had seen. He was there when Jesus gave sight to the blind, fed the five-thousand, and healed the lepers; and, significantly, so had the disciples who bring him the news of the resurrection. Does he not trust even his friends? They have lived through the same earth-shattering experience of the arrest and crucifixion of their master, and yet Thomas cannot bring himself to trust in their word. And this is where the community of believers is threatened from the very start.

Has something happened between Thomas and the other disciples? There is no mention of a falling-out in the Gospels. But for some reason, Thomas doubts them. This is strange for a community built on love and trust. Thomas challenges the credibility of the other disciples. Maybe it was the betrayal by Judas that had shaken his faith in his friends.

Now, you won’t trust someone you think is a liar or a hypocrite. This may be part of our current dilemma in politics and the news media. We’re pretty sure the politicians and talk-show hosts are all liars and hypocrites, or at least the other side is, and so we trust no one who doesn’t reinforce our pre-conceived ideas. Sometimes we listen to what sounds good so much that we forget that we don’t know these people or their true motivations. We might fall into the trap of thinking that we can trust people whose job isn’t to tell us the truth as much as it is to tell us what we want to hear.

But that wasn’t the dilemma for Thomas. These were fellow disciples; the people Thomas probably knew better than anyone else. Did he think they were liars or hypocrites? Was their word not good enough for him? What more proof did he need?

It may be that there is no solid data, no verifiable proof or empirical evidence that will convince us to believe something we’ve always denied. Sometimes it’s easier to live with a lie; the truth can be too painful, especially if it reveals our sins and shortcomings, our failures and foolishness. Thomas might have thought, if Jesus is really alive, then I was wrong to flee, to abandon him, to give up. Even worse, he’ll know what I’ve done.

We don’t get to see the scars or touch the wounds. And yet, if we are to move from death to life, we must have some faith. There is a point when we must stop distrusting one another simply because we don’t like what we hear. We must find a way to trust the motivations of the ones who love us, who know us best, and who want us to grow toward health and wholeness.

It is possible to believe in God, to believe in the risen Christ, and to carry on the work of the Church without proof. Even if our own faith is shaky, even if we don’t have the same conviction as our fellow beloved disciples, we can try to trust in them. If the Church is a community based on love and trust, then we really do have to trust, and love, one another. Especially when we hear the impossible, “We have seen the Lord.”

God, we find ourselves locked away, unable to love and trust. Come into our presence. Speak your words of life into our hearts. Say to us once again, “Do not doubt but believe.” Help us to know the risen Christ. Show us his face reflected in those around us. May we, who have not seen, come to believe and be blessed.  Amen.

---

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

[2] CeaseFire was an anti-violence program and initiative of the Chicago Project for Violence Prevention aimed at reducing street violence by using outreach workers to interrupt potentially violent situations. It ended in 2015.

Good and Trustworthy

November 15, 2020

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

Matthew 25:14-30[1]

Are you good? Are you trustworthy? You have been entrusted according to your ability. What will you do with what you have? The meaning of the world “talents” in this parable is not the same as we would use it today, but let’s go with that for a moment.

What are the talents you have been given? What have you done with your talents? For some of us, you can see what we’ve done. Tetyana, a talented musician, has preformed in operas, leads music at this small church every week, and teaches others how to express their musical talent. T.C., likewise, shares his talented voice by singing for us each week, and he has also performed in musical theater. I sing and play guitar on occasion, and I have been quite fortunate to have an outlet for my musical gifts.

You may also have gifts and talents that you have invested in the world. If we think of the “talents” in this parable as particular skill or ability, then we have probably managed to increase what we have been given. I, at least, have also hidden away some talents. I am pretty good at math and science, and I love Astronomy, but I never committed to the astronaut path in my life. There are times when I gnash my teeth about it, but I don’t think I’ve been thrown into the outer darkness.

A more accurate way of understanding the parable comes from understanding that the Greek word, talanta, actually refers to an amount of money equal to the wages of a worker for a year. The man entrusting property is giving a significant amount of money to stewards who are expected to put that money to work. And two of them do just that, they take a risk by investing or trading to generate earnings on top of their capital. But is the story really about them?

The third slave, the one entrusted with one talent, plays it safe. Putting money in the ground is a normal way of protecting it in a time without banks. We learn why this one is so careful at the end of the parable. The servant explains his actions: the boss is a harsh master, unscrupulous. If the money is lost, he expects a harsh punishment. Better to return it all to the master than risk losing it. This is the prudent one, the cautious investor. Rather than taking chances, taking a risk that the money will be lost, he protects it. And when the master returns, it is all there.

Most of us are like that. I’m not a venture capitalist, and I don’t think any of you are either. We don’t throw money at the newest tech company or the public offering of a social media phenomenon. We might wish we did, in hindsight, but we have responsibilities and debts to pay, so we don’t risk it.

Yet the other slaves take the risky approach. In dealing with a ruthless, greedy master, they invest and produce a return on the investment. They are praised and rewarded. And in that interaction, we catch a glimpse of a different side of the master. Is he really so terrible and cruel? The master generously rewards the ones who traded with more responsibility. They are celebrated.

In these parables, the master is often understood as a stand-in for God. So, is the boss in this parable a metaphor for God? Is God ruthless, greedy, and unscrupulous? That’s not the God I know. God is “merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.”[2] God loves us, and forgives us. God does not reap without sowing or gather without planting seed.

One commentator suggests that we need to flip the script, to step outside of the parable. David Buttrick writes, “If we reverse the boss’s moral status, then we end up out of the parable, trying to figure out how to conduct our lives in response to a free-grace God. We don’t play it safe, because God is patient and ever merciful.”[3] If we think outside the box, so to speak, and not limit our thinking to one of two paths, the path of risk or the path of safety, we get closer to the way things really work.

In the old westerns, the good guys wore the white hats, the bad guys wore the black hats. You knew who the heroes and the villains were. Most of the shows and movies we watch keep this structure. The good guys are always good and morally right. The bad guys are always bad and morally corrupt. But we know that life is not like that.

Life tells more complicated stories. There are stories where no one wears a hat. The good guy has a gambling problem, or an affair. The bad guy uses drug money to pay for medicine for his grandmother. Real people are complicated, a mix of good and bad impulses, and have a history of heroism and cowardice. Real people take risks and lose it all, or play it safe and slowly build up enough to retire on. Real people have unexpected losses and unexpected windfalls. Sometimes the right choice is to take a risk; sometimes it is to play it safe. And none of us can see the future to tell which choice is which.

Is this a story about risk? The parable comes in chapter 25 of Matthew. Matthew only has 28 chapters. We can’t know for sure when in his life Jesus may have told this parable. We can only know where Matthew placed it in his Gospel. So, in this context, as Jesus is nearing the end, has already entered Jerusalem, and cleansed the temple, what time is it? Is it time to play it safe, or is it time to take a risk?

What if the first two slaves had risked the money and lost it? How might the master have reacted? It’s possible that they would not have been punished, but praised for making the effort. Rather than the story being only about winning, about success, maybe it’s about taking the risk. Maybe it’s about growing rather than shrinking, living boldly rather than holding back. After all, the larger story being told is about Jesus, what he has done, and what is going to happen to him. The story is about what it means to follow Jesus, and how to be faithful in living the lives given to us.

This parable, then, may be trying to tell us that playing it safe is not the way to be disciples. If nothing is at risk, then what is the value of living? If we don’t care deeply enough about anyone or anything to risk losing our comforts, if we don’t give our hearts away to something or someone, we risk not living. This parable may be a warning that to play it safe, to not care or love passionately, to not give our time and energy to something worthwhile, is like being banished to the outer darkness.

You may have heard the saying, “A ship in the harbor is safe, but that’s not what a ship was built for.” There are times in life when you need to stay in the harbor, to heal from a sickness or a broken heart, or to protect your community from a global pandemic. But there is a time when you need to set sail, to seek a distant shore, to discover a larger world. There is a time to take a risk on giving your heart, soul, and mind to help others to heal and to set sail.

When Jesus knew they were coming for him, he didn’t stop teaching the disciples. He didn’t send them back to Galilee, to play it safe and hide from the Romans. He invited them to follow him, to proclaim the good news of the kingdom of heaven. Jesus invites you to take the risk of loving yourself, your neighbor, and all the world. In doing so, you enter into the joy of the master, thou good and trustworthy servant.  Amen.

---

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

[2] Exodus 34:6.

[3] David Buttrick, Speaking Parables: A Homiletic Guide (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2000), 173.

A Bigger Perspective

February 16, 2020

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

Deuteronomy 30:15-20; Matthew5:21-37

One day Abraham invited a beggar to his tent for a meal. When grace was being said, the man began to curse God, declaring that he could not bear to hear God’s name. Seized with indignation, Abraham drove the blasphemer away.

When he was at his prayers that night, God said to Abraham, “This man has cursed and reviled me for fifty years, and yet I have given him food to eat every day. Could you not put up with him for a single meal?”

Sometimes we’re like Abraham. The things that people say and do make us so mad we could just spit. We don’t watch the news on TV in my house, mostly because we don’t want to go to bed angry. But I do read news stories during the day, on the internet mostly, and I try to process what I am reading productively, in a way that doesn’t burn me up with anger.

Sometimes, whether we admit it or not, we’re like the beggar. We say and do things that make others angry with us. And sometimes we purposely stoke the flames to get a rise out of the other person. “Don’t poke the bear” is a phrase that helps me refrain from intentionally egging on another.

God knows it’s hard to live with other people. Sometimes they just make us angry. Trust gets betrayed, we abandon one another, and we play fast and loose with the truth. It is so easy to break relationships, and so much work to build or repair them. But God also knows we need one another. We need support from others, and we need to offer support to others. We need family, friends, partners, people we can trust.

So God gave us some rules. God spoke through Moses and gave the Hebrews the Law, the commandments recorded in Exodus, Leviticus, and Deuteronomy. And as long as the people obeyed, as long as they loved God and walked in the ways of God, they were blessed. Over time, the people disobeyed and broke trust with God, so God sent prophets to remind them of the choice between blessings and curses.

Then Jesus came, speaking to the crowds as the one who came to fulfill the law and the prophets. He took on some of the more contentious issues of his day and reinterpreted them. “You have heard that it was said… but I say…” The law and the prophets have only gotten us so far. If you want to know the kingdom of heaven, something more is needed. Following the letter of the law is not enough. Righteousness is to be found in the spirit of the law, the purpose behind the law, which is the building up of relationships based on compassion and love.

If you would be righteous, you must understand that when anger enters your relationships, you have the opportunity to choose between the path that leads to life, and the path that leads to death. You have the opportunity to seek out the other person and try to reconcile. You are given the choice between a relationship restored and a relationship destroyed.

Jesus takes the commandment against murder and directs our view to the anger that drives us toward punishment, retribution, and revenge. You have heard it said, “You shall not murder.” But I say, “What is it that drove you to the point of violence in the first place? It is anger which has gotten out of control.” Jesus doesn’t say that anger is wrong; anger is an emotion that all people feel. Rather, you will be judged by how you behave in your anger. Do you lash out, seeking a violent solution to your problems? If so, you are headed down the path that ends in murder. Do you seek to restore peace and harmony, and do the hard work of reconciling differences? Then you will be blessed with life.

Anger can also murder relationships. Insults are meant to cause pain. Differences left un-reconciled eat away at us causing divisions that widen into chasms. Jesus wants us to build bridges and fill in the valleys between us before it is too late, before the relationship has died. It is hard work. It takes tremendous humility and courage to approach someone when there is anger between us. But Jesus knows that love and compassion are more powerful than anger. Jesus tells us to be brave, when we remember that there is a break in our relationships, and do what is necessary to heal them. “Come to terms with your accuser” and you may be offered forgiveness.

Adultery is the betrayal of a relationship that should be based on mutual trust and support. Marriage is a bond that can keep us together in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, for better or for worse. But there are forces out there that seek to tear us apart. The betrayal may begin with lust, with the desire for another based not on love and mutual care, but on sexual desire. The betrayal may begin with neglect, when we stop trying to meet the needs of one another, or perhaps stop even asking what the other person needs. In biblical times, adultery was much more dangerous for women than for men. What were they going to do in that story from John’s Gospel to the woman caught in adultery? They were going to stone her to death. What were they going to do to the man caught in adultery? Leviticus outlines the punishment for both, but in the story in John, well, that part didn’t come up.

God knows that we cannot control every thought that enters our mind. But we can, however, choose where we focus our attention, and we can control how we respond to our impulses. Jesus knows that it can be hard to resist temptation, but it is easier if we separate ourselves from those things which cause us to sin. I think it is better to not take verses 29 and 30 literally, tearing out our eyes and cutting off our hands, lest we all go around blind and hand-less. But maybe we should click on another web page, find another part of the store to shop in, or seek the support of those who can help us to resist our temptations.

In ancient times, women were often considered more like property than people. The marriage laws allowed for the man to write a certificate of divorce dismissing his wife. The wife had no such right, by the way. A divorced woman was then left without legal protections. She would return to her father’s house – in other words, ownership of her returned from her husband to her father. She lost any personal property she may have had, and she lost her children as well, who were the property of the husband. And it would be much more difficult for the woman to remarry.

God knows it can be difficult to live with each other. But ending a marriage is often even more difficult. Now, if you have been through divorce, or know someone who has, you know the pain, the shame, and the turmoil it brings with it. I don’t want to cause you any more hurt than you have already experienced. There are situations, of course, such as an abusive relationship, when divorce is the only good option. But, I think what Jesus is talking about here is divorce done for frivolous, or lustful, reasons. This was much more common in that society. This was particularly true among the Romans, but it was common among Jewish and early Christian people as well.

God knows that marriage is supposed to be a life-long commitment, a relationship based on mutual care and trust, a rock that withstands the storms of life. Jesus points out here one consequence of treating marriage as a commodity rather than a relationship. A relationship which is meant to bring stability, trust, and support should not be treated carelessly. “If your heart turns away… you shall not live long in the land.” Make the effort to repent of your sins and forgive one another. Make the effort to treat one another as worthy of love. Your relationships deserve your best effort.

Integrity is the final topic Jesus covers in this passage. And Jesus knows we need help these days to speak the truth and deal honestly with one another. How can a society survive if “Yes” does not mean yes, and “No” does not mean no? If we are to live with one another, there has to be some honesty in our speech. Trust cannot be built on deception, broken vows, and false witness. It doesn’t matter what you swear by if you don’t mean it. Don’t swear by heaven, or Jerusalem, or even by the Bible. Just do what you say you’ll do, and mean what you say. “Let your word be ‘Yes, Yes’ or ‘No, No.’” As someone said recently “Right matters, and truth matters. Otherwise, we are lost.”[1]

If we are to live with one another, Jesus tells us that we must learn to live into the spirit of the law, rather than looking for loopholes. We must live with love and respect toward one another, and treat each other as worthy of our compassion and care.

God, help us to do the hard work of loving each other, even when we’re as angry as Abraham, or as anger inducing as the beggar. Teach us the kind of love that is promised in your kingdom, love that goes beyond following the rules and becomes a part of us, love that drives us to seek reconciliation and peaceful solutions to our problems, love that keeps us focused on our relationships of trust and mutual care, love that resists selfishness and does the hard work of forgiveness, love that speaks truth and values integrity, love that chooses life. Make us love others as you have loved us. Amen.

---

[1] Congressman Adam Schiff, speaking to the United States Senate, January 23, 2020.

The Love of Joseph

December 22, 2019

Saint John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Matthew 1:18-25

Today's gospel lesson is about a dream: the dream of Joseph. What have you been dreaming about lately? I’ve been dreaming about having more time to spend with family and friends, and of how nice it would be just one or two things were a little bit different from how they are.

Joseph dreamed something wonderful. God would enter the world. God would be born to the woman he planned to marry, as crazy as that was to understand. If only there weren’t any complications. If only it didn’t seem as though she were carrying the child of another. Joseph had some serious trusting in God to do. But Joseph had to trust someone else, too. Joseph had to trust Mary.

They were betrothed, engaged as we might say, and surely Joseph must have loved Mary. But, still, this took a lot of trust! And for Joseph, the way of salvation meant trusting someone else. It meant trusting that even though things were not quite how he might wish for them to be, things would work out alright. More than alright. In his dream he’d learned that the child of Mary “will save his people from their sins.” It may be that trusting in our own plans, and our own righteousness, is not enough to save us. It may well be that true salvation comes through someone else.

That is a lesson for us, too. Like Joseph, sometimes, we are supposed to trust God and then get out of the way. Trust that God is working through our spouse, and then get out of the way. Trust that God is working in our children, and then get out of the way. Trust that God is working.

Trusting is hard, you know. I mean, take God, for example. Why doesn’t God speak to us directly? Wouldn’t it be great if an angel appeared again? Like the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary? I suppose it would be a little too easy. I mean, if you knew it was an angel, there’d be no room for doubt. There would be no room for faith.

God continues to come into the world, and we have to trust not angels but people – the people we love – if we are to encounter God. We have to believe, not only in God, but in others. We can’t know for sure what another will do or say until it has happened, so we have to trust in the goodness of others.

Trust works like gift-giving. You let go of something precious when you trust, and give it to another. What gifts are you giving for Christmas this year? The greatest gift you can give this year might be to believe in someone’s dreams. The greatest gift you can give is to have faith in someone else; believe in their dreams. Believe in the dreams of the person you love. Believe in the dreams of your spouse. Believe in the dreams of your parents. Believe in the dreams of your children. Believe in the dreams of your friend. Believe in their dreams!

One reason we have relationships is so that we will have someone who will believe our dreams. God works through relationships of love in order to help us realize our dreams. God works through Mary and Joseph. God works through our families, our friends, and through our churches. Our dreams can be realized if they are based in the love of God and the love of our neighbors.

God believes in us. God believes in our dreams. God loves us like Joseph loved Mary and Jesus. I’m not a big country music fan, but there is this one song by George Strait that illustrates the kind of love God has for us:

Let me tell you a secret about a father's love,

A secret that my daddy said was just between us.
He said, "Daddies don't just love their children every now and then.
It's a love without end, amen.

It was Jesus who taught us what the love of God looked like in human form. We are disciples of the embodiment, the incarnation of love. Our own devotion to God and to Jesus is shown in our love for others.

In the story of Joseph, we learn about trust and the kind of love that looks beyond all the things that might not be just the way we’d like them. We learn about the kind of unconditional love that people are capable of, love that goes beyond anything that might push us away from another.

John Dorhauer, the President and General Minister of the UCC, wrote: “This baby Jesus whose birth we will soon celebrate inspires in all of us an impulse to love. Borne of God’s love for us, we extend that love daily to those most in need of our acts of compassion and kindness. Our own lives are daily transformed by the kindness and compassion of others. This Christmas, love wins.”

May the joy of this season inspire you to believe in the dream of love, alive in the trust of Joseph, alive in the mercy of Jesus, and alive today in your own acts of love —your love of neighbor, your self, and all creation.  Amen.

Faithful Witness

October 27, 2019
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Exodus 20:2, 16; Matthew 15:10-20

In Exodus, the Hebrew people, set free from the Egyptians, begin to establish a new culture, and discover their identity as God’s people. Having set the people free, God gives them the means to remain free. The law, beginning with the Ten Commandments, sets this people apart as the people of God – the Lord God who brought them out of slavery to freedom. And the people of God worship and honor God by obeying God’s laws.

The law is not a punishment, a burden, or an obstacle to freedom. True freedom requires responsibility. Freedom without responsibility, without limits, is anarchy. And anarchy is the mob rule, freedom for the strong and the powerful, but slavery for the weak and defenseless.

In order to be a free people, we must be at peace with one another, able to trust one another, responsible for the well-being of one another. And God, by giving the commandments, by setting the boundaries, has provided the means for the people to remain free. If the people worship God, resist temptation, and take responsibility for one another, they will prosper and remain a free people. God fulfills the promise made earlier in Exodus: “I will take you as my people, and I will be your God.”[1]

The commandment to not bear false witness is a particular command that protects society by creating a space for truth to be told. In ancient Israel, witnesses to a crime – who incidentally also brought the charges – had to testify before a court of elders. At least two witnesses were required, as stated in Deuteronomy: “Only on the evidence of two or three witnesses shall a charge be sustained.”[2] If a witness was found to be lying, the punishment was the same as that given to the accused. This was when “an eye for an eye” was the rule of law. If one was accused of a crime that was punishable by death, the lying witness would have been put to death. This harsh reality ensured that the court of elders was a place where truth would be told.

Truth, indivisible from trust, is the foundation of community. The Old Testament scholar and theologian Walter Brueggemann says this commandment is “a recognition that community life is not possible unless there is an arena in which there is public confidence that social reality will be reliably described and reported.”[3] In order for society to function, there must be a place and time where we can trust that the truth will be told.

The commandment that we shall not bear false witness gets at the heart of our capacity to ruin ourselves and others by lies and deceit. Another theologian, the Episcopal Bishop John Shelby Spong, once wrote: “The capacity to speak… is the primary way through which we human beings express ourselves, and nothing reveals more deeply the biblical insight into the sinfulness and brokenness of human life than our verbal means of self-expression.”[4] Speech can express both truth and falsehood.

Our words are powerful. They can do tremendous good – think of the words written by Lincoln in The Emancipation Proclamation. But our words can also do tremendous harm. Mein Kampf led to the rise of Nazism in Germany. The thoughts in our minds and the feelings in our hearts come forth in our words, and they make an impact on the world around us.

In the Gospel According to Matthew, we hear about the power of our words to do harm. “Then [Jesus] called the crowd to him and said to them, ‘Listen and understand: it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but it is what comes out of the mouth that defiles… What comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this is what defiles. For out of the heart come evil intentions, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false witness, slander. These are what defile a person.’”[5]

Bearing false witness means to lie, to give false testimony, to mislead. It is speaking with the intent to deceive. Another form of lying – slander and gossip – also bear false witness, leading us to believe in stories that are fiction born in the heart of those who would harm. False witness breaks our relationships with others, and damages our integrity.

There is a story that tells of a man who spread gossip and lies about a neighbor. When she heard the stories, the victim confronted her accuser with the truth. The man apologized and asked if there was anything that he could do to right the terrible wrong that he had done. The woman walked into the bedroom and took a feather pillow from the bed. Taking out a knife, she cut open the pillow, and then, going to a window on the second floor, dumped the feathers into the breeze so they blew in every direction. “Yes,” she said. “There is something you can do. You can go out now and gather up all of those feathers and put them back inside this pillow.” The man protested, “That is impossible. I could never recover each of those tiny feathers.” “Yes, it is impossible,” the woman agreed. “It is just as impossible as it is for you to take back all the hurt and the pain that your malicious rumor and lies have caused to me. You cannot recover the suspicion that you have sown. The damage to my character can never be undone.”[6]

When we bear false witness against our neighbor, we deny our responsibility for our neighbor, we deny our duty to God, and we destroy ourselves as we become untrustworthy. The trust that holds the community together is broken, and without trust, we can no longer be a people. Bearing false witness brings us into the state of sin: separated from God, separated from one another, and separated from our own integrity.

We must do more than not lie. We must face the challenge of being witnesses to truth, creating a society where truth can be told, where our words are reliable, where we can trust one another. Jesus spoke in the Sermon on the Mount about the Ten Commandments. “You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord.’ But I say to you, do not swear at all… Let your word be ‘Yes, Yes’ or ‘No, No’; anything more than this comes from evil.”[7] Jesus requires a level of truthfulness from his disciples that goes beyond taking an oath not to lie. It is a life of truth; a life lived with faithfulness toward God and responsibility toward others. The followers of Jesus were to be trustworthy, true, and faithful, a community of God’s people bound, not by oaths, but by love, trust, and responsibility for one another.

As Christians, we are challenged to do more than not bear false witness. We have a special call to be faithful witnesses. We are the people who witness to the work and words of Jesus Christ. We are the evangelists who are tasked with sharing the good news.

Evangelism is a word that tends to make us cringe. When I hear that word, I usually think of people who want to convert me to Christianity – at least their version of it – and my blood-pressure rises. But I’m not talking about proselytizing. I’m not talking about standing on a street corner shouting that judgment day is coming and we’re all going to hell unless we believe on Jesus. I’m talking about the evangelism of speaking our truth, the truth of how God is moving in us, and through us, and around us.

Now, let me stop to say that we must take care that we do not fall into the trap of thinking that our view of reality, of truth, of faith, of God, of what it means to be Christian, is the only way of seeing things. We don’t have a universal perspective. Bishop Spong warns us:

Words can point to God, but words can never capture God. Creeds can be formed to contain truths but creeds can never be formed that will exhaust the truth. God is bigger than the human frame of reference which tries to talk about him. God is bigger than any of the words of any human being about [her]. No matter how hallowed by the ages, no matter how thin or how gilt-edged the pages which we say contain the holy words, God is beyond the understanding of the Bible. God is beyond the understanding of our holy traditions, beyond the creeds, beyond the Church itself. No human system of thought can ever be ultimate. God, alone, is ultimate. Anything less than God will be destructive the minute we elevate it to the level of ultimacy.[8]

As witnesses to Jesus, we are evangelists. However, the evangelism I’m talking about does not make the claim that any of us hold the absolute truth for all time. God is, after all, still speaking. The evangelism that I’m talking about means being a faithful witness to the living Christ that is at work in our own lives. It means bearing truthful witness, speaking the truth, even though it may be hard, even though we may pay a price for it.

Evangelism means not hiding the values upon which we base our lives and our actions, but standing up for them. It means becoming representatives of Christ, ambassadors of God to the world. It means seeing other people, every person, no matter how strange or different, as a neighbor. It means loving God and loving our neighbors as ourselves. It means being true to ourselves and our vocation. It means bearing faithful witness to our own identity as Christians, as the people of God.

Let the words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.

---

[1] Exodus 6:7.  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] Deuteronomy 19:15.

[3] Walter Brueggemann. “The Book of Exodus” in The New Interpreter’s Bible, volume I (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994).

[4] John Shelby Spong. “The Human Tongue – A Call to Responsibility” in The Living Commandments (New York: Seabury Press, 1977).

[5] Matthew 15:10-20 (selected).

[6] This story, from the Jewish tradition, I altered from Spong in The Living Commandments.

[7] Matthew 5:33-37 (selected).

[8] Spong.