The Invitation

Scripture Lessons: 2nd Samuel 11: 1-5 and Song of Solomon 2: 8-13 Sermon title: The Invitation Preached on July 29, 2018 Back in Tennessee we had a big back yard. The lots in our neighborhood there were large but moving here to Marietta we knew we wanted to be close to the Square, close to the Church, close to our girl’s school, so we bought a house with a smaller backyard. Perfectly suitable to our needs and less grass to mow, but closer to our neighbors, which has made us aware of how loud we are. We are. It’s true. We’re loud. And the loudest of us all, the bane of our neighborhood is the Coon Hound we got from the pound back in Tennessee. We were at a neighborhood dinner last Fall. Everyone was introducing themselves – “we’re the Smith’s and we’re the ones who have been having the pool installed, sorry about that.” Then everyone laughed politely, excusing and understanding the slight inconvenience. Then Sara says, “We’re the Evans family and we’re the one with the hound dog who barks all the time.” No one laughed. So, when we went out of town last week we were worried about what was going to happen with these neighbors who agreed to watch our dogs, and we emphasized how free they should feel to shut Junebug the coon hound inside if there were a cat around that she couldn’t stop barking at. Our kind neighbor assured us that everything would be fine, but then she contacted us on our way back into town with some bad news. A possum made herself a home under our deck. Junebug knew that it was there, but this deck is right on the ground, she couldn’t get to it, and she wouldn’t stop barking. Our neighbor shut our dog inside where her barks were at least muffled, and when we got home first order of business was to sell the house and leave the neighborhood before they run us out. No. Not really. First order of business was to buy a trap and catch the possum. I had to shop around to buy the kind I wanted. Lowe’s sells them. The humane kind. Only problem with the humane kind is then you have to release what you’ve trapped, but I knew the code to my neighbor’s garage and planned on leaving it in there. Just kidding – I was planning on releasing it in the woods a couple miles from the house, but before setting the trap, Sara asked me how I was feeling about trapping this wild animal. I told her that I was feeling a little sorry for the possum, that after a nice meal of possum bait she’d be spending a cold night inside a metal trap. Sara said, “Just think about how happy this possum will be living in the woods instead of having a coon hound bark in her ear incessantly.” And that was a good point, but after catching her and releasing her, I watched as the dirty old marsupial waddled off into her new home, and I couldn’t help thinking about how it is an accepted practice to trap a possum and take it somewhere else. How you can do all kinds of things to a possum without asking her permission. A human is allowed to ignore the will of a pest, but to abuse power is to treat a person like a possum. For a man to treat another human, not like a person but like an animal, that’s wrong. For a King to treat citizens, not like self-determining individuals with minds and bodies and rights to decide, but as subjects who need to be told what to do. How wrong it is for the people’s representative, for God’s chosen king, to manipulate the truth to suit him, and dispose of those whose testimony might discredit him. It is an abuse of power for a tyrant to look down from his roof to see a woman bathing, and to see her as something that he wants. It’s a tragic truth that these are all things that King David did. We just read in our First Scripture Lesson: It happened late one afternoon, when David rose from his couch and was walking about on the roof of the king’s house, that he saw from the roof a woman bathing; the woman was very beautiful. David sent someone to inquire about the woman. [Then] David sent messengers to get her. That’s not how it’s supposed to happen, but that’s how David did it as he becomes the kind of king that the Prophet Samul warned Israel about. Do you remember what the Prophet Samuel said? Rev. Lisa Majores reminded me that the Prophet Samuel warned the people when they asked for a king. The prophet told them that, “He will take your sons. He will take your daughters. He will take the best of your fields. And in that day, you will cry out because of your king whom you have chosen for yourselves.” No one would have thought that gentle David would become such a king – the kind who looks down from his roof to see what he might take, but this is the way of human corruption. This is what too often happens in the hearts of men when given power. There’s no need to go down the list of powerful men who did what David did. You know who they are, and I pray that you have personally been blessed to steer clear of all of them, because too much harm has been done by those who abuse their power. But today I won’t name names or go on about condemning those who are guilty of abusing their power. The truth will come out with or without this preacher. What I feel called to speak about today, is what it’s supposed to look like. School starts again this week, and every parent thinks that school is about learning, but every student knows it’s really about socializing. And with socializing comes friendship, then later, dating. In either case it’s important to know how it’s supposed to look, how it was intended to be, for throughout life there will be those who look at you and see something that they want, but there will be others who will really see you, and with love in their heart, instead of seeing you as something that they might have, they will see you as someone who might want what they have to give. Listen again to the words of our Second Scripture Lesson: My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag. Look, there he stands behind our wall, gazing in at the windows, looking through the lattice. My beloved speaks and says to me: ‘Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.” My favorite detail in those verses is where the young man is standing. Why doesn’t he just knock on the door? If you’ve never been a 15-year-old boy you might not know this, but he’s hiding behind the wall because he’s terrified. I remember my mother saying to me, as I was gathering the courage to call a fellow High School student to ask her out on a date. She said, “If I had any idea how timid 15-year-old boys really were, I would have been a much more confident 15-year-old girl.” That’s how it’s supposed to be. The young man has something to offer – and what he has to offer is his heart. This is a gift he wants to give, and he’s terrified because the one who he wants to give his heart to has the power to accept it and treasure it or crush his 15-year-old heart with her rejection. But that’s nothing to worry over. That’s how it’s meant to be, so consider for just a moment the difference between this young man who hides behind the wall, looking through the lattice to catch a glimpse of his beloved, and King David, who looks down from his roof to see a beautiful woman whose name he doesn’t even know. Consider the difference between this young man who speaks and says, “Arise my love, my fair one, and come away,” and King David who doesn’t even say anything to Bathsheba – he just sends for her. Consider the difference in who has agency. Consider the difference in who has control and power. Where is the woman with the chance to say yes or no and where is the woman trapped, like a possum in a cage? It is so important to issue an invitation. For while you can’t control whether the invitation will be accepted, and while your heart may get broken in the process, if the one you are inviting doesn’t have the power to say yes or no there can be no real friendship, and certainly there can be nothing more than that. If there is no invitation there can only be something which is so much less than love. Without an invitation there is only abused power – one who has the power to choose what he wants, and another who is an object to be taken. But with an invitation, there is an open door to love. That’s important to remember in life. It’s important to remember that from the beginning of friendship and into dating. It’s even important to remember that in understanding our relationship with God. The great CS Lewis said that we are like children, happily making mud pies in the alley way, who have been invited to the seashore. With this invitation, what we have is the choice between the life that we know and the abundant life that we don’t, but are invited to. And God knows how much better the beach is to making mud pies in the alleyway – God knows this as much as Sara knows that a possum would rather live in the woods than be trapped under our deck, only God, who issues us this invitation would never trap us and take us to the beach for our own good, because that’s not love. Instead our God simply issues the invitation. The invitation to come away – “for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time for singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.” You see – the young man in the Song of Solomon is not just a young man. The ancients kept this love poetry in our Bible so that we would know this great metaphor that God’s love for us is like the love of a young man for a young woman. That the Lord gives to us – an invitation. And we have the choice to go or not, because that’s love. Love is not a power drunk king who looks down from heaven on a people that he wants for his own pleasure. Instead love is a young man in the Song of Solomon – or a Gentle Savior in the Gospels – a Gentle Savior who holds out his heart to his people saying: “Take and eat, this is my body, broken for you.” We had the power to reject him. And we did. What is the Cross, but the sign of God’s abundant love freely offered, and humanity's sin, which chose to slam the door in his face. But even after his rejection, he rose – and offers us his love again today. We are not possums. We are not objects. It is our choice – to say yes, or to say no. That’s how love is supposed to look and that’s how it has to be. Will it break God’s heart if we turn our backs? Maybe. But our God who is the very definition of what love truly is would never look upon us and take what He wants. He’d only call on us to consider again what it is that He has to give. Not just life – abundant life. Not freedom as the world knows it, but freedom from regret and freedom to rest in His mercy. It is vitally important that we as a church remember this as we go out into the world and as we welcome visitors into our doors. If this is your first time here I confess that there’s always a part of me that wants to give you a pledge card right away. But the emphasis of the Gospel is not on what you have, but one what God has to give. This is a church founded on the Good News of the Lord Jesus Christ – and here lives are transformed by faith, hope and love. The Gospel is alive here, and that’s what we epmasize. God’s invitation to the whole world – to enjoy abundant life. Amen.

Who Will Build the Temple?

Scripture Lessons: Ephesians 2: 11-22 and 2nd Samuel 7: 1-14a Sermon Title: Who Will Build the Temple? Preached on July 22, 2018 Recently I took our girls to see the Incredibles 2. It’s a new animated movie out, and we all liked it a lot. Seeing a movie is a good thing to do on a summer afternoon. You have to pay $20.00 for popcorn, but it’s a fun thing to do. Before the main attraction, before the Incredibles 2 came on there was an appetizer movie. A short cartoon to get us warmed up that had a genuine impact on me that I want to tell you about. It featured a lonely woman who took her time to make her husband the most delicious steamed dumplings for their lunch. She made them for him with painstaking care. She made the filling from fresh ingredients, folded the dough around it with beauty and precision, then steamed these precious dumplings and she set them on the table before her husband who scarfed them down in seconds while never taking his eyes off the TV. Then he’s off to work and the lonely woman eats her dumplings in lonely silence, when strangely her last dumpling comes to life. A dumpling is the perfect food to make into a baby too – this dumpling baby had fat, doughy cheeks that the lonely woman pinched. Eventually the little dumpling sprouted arms and legs and could move around, and that meant that the lonely woman was no longer alone. She took her dumpling baby out to grocery shop. He went with her to tai chi in the park and having this dumpling to love and care for and feed made the lonely woman happy. But then the dumpling boy grew, and he saw some boys playing soccer in the park and didn’t want to do tai chi any more. He wanted to play soccer. This is where the problem began, because the lonely woman didn’t want her little dumpling playing soccer. She wanted to keep him close by her side, so she jerked him back. You can see where this is going – the lonely woman loves her dumpling and doesn’t want him going anywhere or getting himself hurt, but the dumpling wants to grow up. Eventually he goes out, comes back home with a tall, blond girlfriend. The dumpling tells his human parents, “We’re getting married.” When the lonely women protest by stomping her foot and crossing her arms, the dumpling and his blond fiancé try to storm out. But before he makes it out the door the lonely woman scoops up her dumpling boy and eats him. That was a dramatic twist. Only it didn’t end there. Maybe you can imagine that in this cartoon, the dumpling that the lonely woman doted over, was a stand in for her real son. The cartoon went on to tell us that as her human son grew up he pushed her away too, and the more he pushed the tighter she tried to hold him close, until eventually he ran off. That happens sometimes, we choose to cling too tightly and lose control rather than accept the reality that people will fight to be who they are and against who we want them to be. So, maybe you haven’t carried around a dumpling or taken it to tai chi, but have you ever wanted to hold close someone who was pushing you away? Maybe this cartoon was a little strange, but it reminded me of the day I dropped Lily off at Kindergarten. That day, and only that day, the impulse to homeschool was strong. I dropped her off. She didn’t want to go. She was so little, and after leaving her in her classroom, where I’m sure she was perfectly happy, I made it back to the car and sat in the driver’s seat and cried. It was awful. But maybe like me you can relate to the impulse to scoop up a little dumpling and never let her go because letting kids grow up is so painful. Loving someone and having to let them go – there’s just nothing easy about it. And allowing people to be who they are rather than who we want them to be or being who we are despite the pressure to be someone else – none of this is easy. Though these are all challenges that are a part of our life together – both in families and in a community. Such challenges were in David’s life too. Consider David’s father, who was supposed to call all his sons to see the Prophet Samuel that he might pick one to be the king, but his father left little David out in the field, because sometimes it’s hard to allow your children to be who God calls them to be. Then there was this conflicted relationship David had with King Saul. Saul who loved David until he got too big for his britches and stepped out of Saul’s shadow to become king himself. So often there’s the conflict – a projection cast on a loved one of who we think they ought to be – and when the boy grows into a man or when the dumpling exerts a little independence, what happens inside the heart and mind of those who want the dumpling to stay at arm’s length? Last week we heard about his wife Michal who despised David in her heart – why? Because David turned out to be the kind of king who danced rather than the kind of king that she expected him to be. So, as it was with David, so it is with us, life is full of human relationships with push away and pull back. A dance of childhood loving closeness one minute, exerting adolescent independence the next, and today we see that King David’s relationship with his God was not so unlike his human relationships. Now when the king was settled in his house, and the Lord had given him rest from all his enemies around him, the king said to the prophet Nathan, “See now, I am living in a house of cedar, but the ark of God stays in a tent.” What does David want to do here but build the Lord a house. To keep God close by. This is a kind thought, a loving gesture, but have you ever been given a present that the giver wanted to give more than you wanted to receive it? A knew a man in Tennessee named David Locke. Mr. Locke used to say, “Always accept what someone gives you, because sooner or later they’ll give you something that you actually want.” That’s one way to think about it, but that’s not how God thought about it. David wants to build God a house, but did David ask God if God would like one? No. There’s two kinds of unwanted gifts. There’s the unwanted gifts that people give you because you need them, and you don’t know it – like nose hair clippers. Husbands – if your wife gave you nose hair clippers it’s because you need it, and I know you didn’t ask for it, but you should accept the gift for your own good. Then there’s the other kind of unwanted gift – the kind of gift that’s been wrapped in a motive. The kind of gift that says more about the person giving it and their hopes for who you’ll be than their understanding of who you actually are. How many little girls woke up to find that Santa had brought them a tutu instead of the pocket knife that they asked for? How many mothers opened up an Instapot on Mother’s Day and wanted to use it for target practice? These gifts often say more about who the giver wants you to be than who you actually are – and that happens because it’s hard for some people to let the ones who they love be themselves. For years I had to go to dance recitals for my sister, who really did ask Santa for a tutu because she loved to dance, and I remember that every once in a while, a group would come on stage that had a boy in it. That whole group of girls and one boy, and I remember my mother saying, “the bravest person in this auditorium is that boy’s father.” She said that because allowing someone who you love to be who God created them to be takes strength. And allowing God to be who God actually is rather than who we want God to be takes strength as well. It takes a particular kind of strength that we call faith. So, now comes the real story. The life lesson: But that same night the word of the Lord came to Nathan: Go and tell my servant David: Thus says the Lord: Are you the one to build me a house to live in? Whenever I have moved about among the people of Israel, did I ever speak a word with any of the tribal leaders of Israel, “Why have you not built me a house of cedar?” God never said, “It sure would be nice to have a solid roof over my head.” God never said to David: “Look at you, resting easy, and I’m in this old tent.” It wasn’t like that. God was happy that David was settled in his house, but God didn’t want a house of his own – that was what David wanted God to want. David, like all of us, has this problem of projection. He was limiting God according to his image of God. He was boxing God in, according to his perception of who God was and what God wants. Again – this is normal enough, but it’s dangerous, because mothers have to let their little dumplings grow up and be who they were created to be. A husband has to listen to his wife so well that he knows her – that he’s heard what she fears, that he knows what she worries about, and can be reasonably sure of what she likes and doesn’t – so then he can buy her what she actually wants and not what he wants her to want. And the same is true for our relationship with God. We Christians – we have to listen to God. We have to conform to his will – because God will not conform to ours, though so often we will try to get God to or will speak as though God always takes our side. We must remember that while God is always with us, God does not support all that we do. God is not just along for the ride. Last week I saw a picture of a black Labrador retriever. These dogs are known to be compassionate and loyal, and below the picture was the heading – Man’s true best friend and below that was a test to prove that statement, “men, if you want to know who your true best friend is, lock your wife and your dog in the trunk of your car for an hour. Then let them out and see who’s happy to see you.” That’s funny – but you shouldn’t put your wife in a trunk. You shouldn’t put your dog in a trunk either, and you definitely shouldn’t try to put God in the trunk and take God along for the ride regardless of where you are going. Bumper stickers used to say, “Jesus is my co-pilot.” Remember those? Then a counter bumper sticker came out, “If Jesus is your co-pilot than you’re in the wrong seat.” Sometimes we just want God to go along with us and bless our ride regardless, but what if we’re going in the wrong direction? What if God is calling us to turn around? What if God doesn’t want us to build him a house? Preachers have that problem. I was preaching at a camp meeting a few years ago. We were outside, cars parked all around. And I thought I had this great sermon about how God often speaks through interruptions. Well, someone’s car alarm started going off and interrupted my sermon. I gave a frustrated look in the direction of the perpetrator. An embarrassed man turned the alarm off, finally, so I could continue with what I wanted to say. Then it went off again, and again we waited while he turned off the alarm. Then I continued, but when the alarm went off for a third time I finally realized how well I was proving my point that God interrupts but we just keep on going by refusing to be interrupted by God’s divine interruption. You know – we want to build God a house, but what if God doesn’t need one. We want our children to change, but what about the change that needs to occur in us? We sing “God Bless America,” but God cannot bless our every endeavor – for so much of what we do is contrary to God’s Word. Too often we only want God to support what we’re doing already – we look to Scripture, not for challenge but for affirmation - but is God’s Word not a refiner’s fire? If only we weren’t so resistant to being refined. It reminds me of one story of how Columbia Theological Seminary got started. The great Presbyterian Churches of the Antebellum South used to send all their fine pastoral candidates up to Princeton Seminary in New Jersey for training. Problem was – they’d all come back abolitionists. Rather than listen to what these preachers had to say, rather than hear the truth – that God calls us to see our brothers and sisters not as property – we just built a seminary in the South where we wouldn’t have to hear it. Does God need us to build him a house? Does not God need us to instead listen to his Word and be changed by it? And will God not freely give greater blessings than we could ever dream of should we be so bold to change according to his divine will? The Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house. When your days are fulfilled, and you lie down with your ancestors, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come forth from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever.” Let us always remember, that unless the Lord builds the house, those who labor, labor in vain. Amen.

Whenever I Am Weak, then I Am Strong

Scripture Lessons: 2nd Corinthians 12: 1-10 and 2nd Samuel 5: 1-5, 9-10 Sermon Title: Whenever I Am Weak, then I Am Strong Preached on July 8, 2018 In the past two weeks, as is often the case, I have come to a better understanding of my personal failures and limitations. I had a meeting at Cool Beans Coffee Shop on the Square with David Eldridge, the pastor of Stone Bridge Church, and David wanted to introduce me to another pastor who was in there – it was pastor’s day at Cool Beans I guess. The other pastor that David wanted me to meet had just started at Roswell Street Baptist Church. I shook his hand, his name was Mark, and in the course of his introduction I suddenly realized that this was the very Mark who had been trying to get in touch with me. I had failed to return several of his messages. He had been emailing me to see if I might be interested in this new imitative he’s getting started. Has this ever happened to you? That the person you’ve been avoiding, either intentionally or unintentionally, is suddenly right in front of you? David said, “Mark, this is Joe Evans at First Presbyterian Church.” I added, “The guy who has failed to return your messages.” Then he said, “Don’t apologize. You’re not Jesus.” Isn’t that the best response? I’ve been thinking about how I might use that phrase, because it’s such a freeing reminder of the truth. Of course, I know I’m not Jesus. None of us are, but that truth doesn’t always keep us from trying to be perfect. In reality, we’re limited. Fallible and forgetful, but we don’t want to be. In fact, we’re often actively trying not to be. So, I’m grateful to this Mark, because he helped me to face the reality that I’m just me because I often want to be more than me. I want to be King David. Don’t you? In our 2nd Scripture Lesson from the book of 2nd Samuel, David’s accomplishments are listed: -David, who already had been embraced by the Southern Tribes, now unifies the nation by gaining the esteem of the north as well. -He made a covenant with the Elders of Israel. -Was anointed king. -He captured the ancient city of Jerusalem, established it as the City of David, then built it up. -Scripture also mentions that he does all this by the time he turned 30. -But here’s the main thing. In verse 10 we read: “And David became greater and greater, for the Lord, the God of hosts was with him.” With this simple verse it becomes clear why David was able to all these things by the time he turned 30. It was not because of his own strength that he became great, but because “the God of hosts was with him,” and should we continue to consider the reign of David, then future years will show that when he forgets this vital fact, when he fails to accept the limit of his power and instead, steps beyond to seize more than he has right to, his great story turns from victory to tragedy. The human condition is, that even the greatest of us are limited, and one of the beautiful gifts of our faith is to embrace our limits, not with resentment, but with gratitude. Paul said it like this in our first Scripture Lesson: “On my own behalf I will not boast, except of my weaknesses.” He then goes on to describe, without specific detail, the “thorn” which keeps him from being “too elated.” “Three times I appealed to the Lord about this [Paul wrote], that it would leave me, but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” “Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.” That’s a hard truth to accept, but it is truth. I recently heard a philosopher describe Superman. How the writers of this comic book ran out of stories to tell about him, that his popularity began to wane, until they introduced kryptonite, the mineral that zaps the super hero’s strength. Of course, we would all like to be super heroes: strong, fast, ageless, beautiful. The perfect mothers, the sole provider. We want to wake up early, exercise, walk the dog, feed the family, then go off into the world prim and proper, witty and informed, caring and concerned, and I know that’s true, because when we have the chance to project our image out onto the world, we show the Facebook Community, not the truth, but what we want the truth to be. Our children must make good grades, and make the cheerleading squad, and act in the school play, while attending to her grandparents, looking grownups in the eye, minding their manners and writing all thankyou notes no more than four days after her birthday party. That’s what many of us want from our children because we hold ourselves up to such high standards. Success in life demands rising to the high standards set by culture, but what about the moment when they run into their own Mark, who wrote them an email that they’ve failed to respond to for days or weeks. Will they rejoice in being reminded that they aren’t Jesus? And don’t have to be? Or will they promise to try harder to be perfect in the future? A requirement of having faith in God, is not having absolute faith in ourselves. That might sound strange, but if we could do it alone what need for God would there be? When Paul says: “Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, for whenever I am weak, then I am strong,” he is reiterating a point that he’s made several times before, that if we could be perfect, then what need would we have for God’s grace? If we could master human existence, going through life without making mistakes, or, if we could rise to every occasion without the need of God’s sustaining hand, then why believe? If perfection were ours, if holiness were something we could work for and eventually gain, if it were possible for us to rise to every challenge without ever falling or failing, then what did Christ die for? Therefore, we are better – far better – when we know our need, for then we can give thanks for our shepherd who supplies it. We are mighty – not when we are strong enough to do it ourselves, but when we must lean on the ever-lasting and almighty arms of our savior. When we remember our blindness, then we can give thanks to the one who opens our eyes. And when we know what we can’t do, then we can trust the one who can. Those children who grow up believing that it all rests on their shoulders – who forgot how to play and spend their vacations at the beach studying for the ACT – we worry about the pressure that they’re under but don’t know what to do about it, because we adults can be just as bad. We adults, who live into the lie, the idolatry that the future rests in our hands, are to be pitied for foolishly trying to carry a burden that already rests in our savior’s hands. Too often I try to carry it myself. After all, I am the new pastor at First Presbyterian Church of Marietta, GA. I’ve now been proud to call myself your pastor for nearly one year. This summer is the one-year anniversary, and daily I’m thankful to be here among you. To call myself your pastor, and being your pastor has its many perks. Sometimes I’m recognized by people I haven’t met. I was having breakfast at Come–N–Get It and the man at the register, who I’ve only met once or twice before, called me by name. “Thank you for your business Rev. Evans,” he said. This was an occasion for my head to expand. Only later did I realize that I was wearing a name tag. I’m still me, you see – and you’re still you. The struggle is to accept such limitations, and even to rejoice in them, for in recognizing what Christ does in our weakness, we are more fully Christian, and less failing superheroes. I’m sure that you’ve heard by now, that a Long-Range Planning Committee has been formed at our church, and that they have been meeting, organizing five task forces to strengthen our churches’ technology and communication, as well as our youth group, preschool, and Club 3:30 After School Program. They’ve focused on these areas because you, the congregation, talked more about these five areas than any other, for you know already that God is alive and at work in those places, and to be a stronger church means for us that we join God where God is already at work. We’ve adopted the statement: that First Presbyterian Church exists to change and transform lives with faith, hope, and love – and it sounds obvious, but it’s worth saying, that the transformation begins with us. That our lives are transformed, when we stop relying on ourselves for direction and guidance. When we stop trying to figure out what is right in our own minds, but instead rely on the teachings of Scripture to lead a life of faith. That our lives are transformed when we stop relying on ourselves to create a better future, but instead rejoice in the truth that God has been at work in our world, making earth as it is in heaven for in God is our hope. And we believe that God is transforming our lives with the gift of love. A God who loves us despite our weakness, a God who calls us to love each other despite our sins and shortcomings. What it all means is that “whenever I am weak, then I am strong,” because in my weakness I must depend, not on myself, but on my God. And when we think too highly of ourselves, we are fools. When we think too highly of ourselves, we are like children who don’t stop to thank the parents who put food on their plates and keep the lights on in the house. We sometimes live in the illusion of self-sufficiency but consider all that we don’t know – we can’t even cure the common cold. I’ve never seen where a hummingbird sleeps. Is it in a nest? Under a leaf? When we see only the strength of the one who looks back at us in the mirror, we fail to give thanks for the one who put the stars in the night sky. And we fail to rely on the one who is strong when we are weak. We must remember that whenever I am weak, then I am strong, for there is danger in relying too heavily on human strength. The strong keep going in their marriage while it falls apart, while the weak trust in a higher power and ask for help. The strong face hardship that they can’t see their way out of and break, while the weak call on the ever-present help in times of trouble and because they’ve called on God, they are more than conquerors. The strong see death as the end, but the weak sing their loud halleluiah even at the grave, giving thanks for the strength of Christ who carries us from death to new life. Who leads us out into an ever-changing world with faith, hope, and love. That’s the symbolism of the acolyte. The hardest job in a worship service is the job of the acolyte. It’s the only job that involves a flame in an old wooden building, so with the acolyte is the greatest potential for something to go badly wrong. But not only that, there are so many variables. The flame could go out on the wand. The wax from the wick can melt in the tube and won’t come out. Every once in a while, there won’t be enough oil in the candles, so they won’t light while everyone is watching. Plus, you have to lead the worship leaders into the sanctuary – walking first in line down the aisle in front of your church family. It’s a lot of pressure. Last Sunday some things went wrong. The light went out on the wand before Emma Grace could make it down to the front. Her dad and I had to run up with the lighter to get things going in the right direction again. But Emma Grace persevered you see. It was her first time to acolyte in the 11:00 service, and even though everyone was watching, she didn’t give up. She persevered, and when I think about life, isn’t perseverance more important than strength? Certainly, it’s more attainable than perfection. Knowing where to go for help matters more, because no mortal always knows the way. Having the courage to ask a question is more important in the grand scheme of things, because we all hit a point where we don’t have the answer. Perseverance then. Because of her perseverance, at the end of the service, Emma Grace took up the acolyte’s wand once again, and with it lit she lead us out of this sanctuary, reminding us that the light of Christ goes out into the world with us. We are not alone, for whenever I am weak, then I am strong, because Christ gives me strength. Amen.

For Your Sakes He Became Poor

Scripture Lessons: 2nd Corinthians 8: 1-15 and 2nd Samuel 1: 1, and 17-27 Sermon title: For Your Sakes He Became Poor Preached on July 1, 2018 The Fourth of July is this week, and so today, in preparation and anticipation of celebrating our nation’s birthday our hymns for worship, especially the last hymn, are a little more patriotic than normal, which makes sense. This church of ours not only makes its home in the United States of America, but Presbyterians were there when it all began. I’m sure you’ve heard it said that there were more Presbyterian signers of the Declaration of Independence than any other denomination. If you see any Baptists or Methodists this afternoon, be sure to remind them of that. So, this week I’ve been thinking about how more than 200 years ago Presbyterians were there declaring independence from England and her king – and how quickly and definitively the line between the mother country and her colony became a battle line. How the Declaration of Independence was like a Dear John letter to say, “We’ll be getting along better without you.” How after the Boston Massacre, British soldiers were seen as enemies who could not be trusted. How the Boston Tea Party violently expressed the resentment of American consumers. How at that time British sympathizers were tarred and feathered by mobs made up of their neighbors. I think about all that, for today I see the same kind of rift that steadily grew between America and Brittan spreading to divide America against herself. On Friday June 22nd, Sarah Huckabee Sanders, press secretary, and defender of President Donald Trump, walked in to a little 26-seat restaurant called the Red Hen in Lexington, Virginia. The chef of the restaurant called the owner, Stephanie Wilkinson at her home, telling her “The staff is a little concerned. What should we do?” Ms. Wilkinson left her home, drove to her restaurant, met with her employees and said to them: “Tell me what you want me to do. I can ask her to leave,” and they said “yes.” Stephanie Wilkinson then politely asked the press secretary to leave, and the Press Secretary did. I would have to. After all, if the chef and waitstaff didn’t want her there, who knows what they would have done to her food, but that’s not the point, is it? The point is that on the eve of the Fourth of July, it’s obvious that our nation cannot eat at the same dinner table. That’s a big deal. And while I suppose we’ve always been divided or dividing, there’s always been a difference between Republicans and Democrats, it seems to me that this is a newly challenging and confusing time. As Christians, in times of challenge and confusion, if we are wise and faithful, for guidance we turn not to Twitter, Facebook, not to whatever we consider to be the real or fake news, but to Scripture where there is always guidance and hope. In this time of division, where compromise seems impossible, and party loyalty seems paramount, this morning we turn to the transition of power from one king to another in Ancient Israel to see how God’s chosen conducted himself in a time of conflict. Today we turn to David, who was chosen by God and anointed by the Prophet Samuel long before he had the chance to sit on the throne and rule. He had been waiting and waiting, only now he is finally poised to sit as King of Israel for King Saul is dead. Effectively, this is exactly what David wanted. This is what any of those who were close to Saul and knew his paranoia first hand were waiting for too – the nation was ready for a new king, and possibly David was readier than anyone. But as David hears about Saul’s death, will he celebrate? Will he pontificate? Will he boast in his own superiority over the leader he is to replace? Will he play up Saul’s weakness or highlight his mistakes? Will he add fuel to resentment, make a monster out of the former king and tell Israel that now that he wears the crown, everything is going to be perfect? No. The messenger who delivered the news of Saul and his son Jonatan’s death is killed and not rewarded, and rather than dance on the grave of the dead King Saul, Scripture tells us that “David intoned this lamentation”: Your glory, O Israel, lies slain upon your high places! How the mighty have fallen! Saul and Jonathan, beloved and lovely! They were swifter than eagles, They were stronger than lions. O daughters of Israel, weep over Saul, How the mighty have fallen in the midst of the battle! It’s hard to imagine some politicians doing something like that today. Maybe you remember the presidential debates a couple years ago. Someone asked the candidates, Donald Trump and Hilary Clinton, to say something nice about the other. A man named Carl Becker stood up and said, “My question to both of you is, regardless of the current rhetoric, would either of you name one positive thing that you respect in one another?” It was the one of the most awkward moments I’ve ever seen on television. Today I’d love to hear President Trump sing a song about the former president the way David sang about the former king, so I wrote a couple verses. Imagine President Trump singing this: He could beat me in basketball. He has a great head of hair. The way I’ve criticized him, hasn’t always been fair. It’s hard to imagine something like that happening. On the other hand, as the Marietta Daily Journal covered the death of long-time football coach James “Friday” Richards, I read a quote from Scott Jones, who started the Kennesaw Mountain High School football program in 2000. He referred to Coach Friday as the “comrade of coaches” and said he acted, not only as a coach, but as father figure to everyone. Now he said that “although [Coach] Jones had only one win against Richards’ Marietta teams in all the time they played against each other.” Jones said Richards was always generous before and after their games — win or lose. “He was a competitive coach who wanted to win,” Jones said, “but in the grand scheme of things, he was not all about that.” It seems to me, that considering politics in the United States of America today, in the grand scheme of things we are exactly all about that. Politics today seems to be a zero-sum game, where the only thing that matters is winning, and whenever winning and the chosen method of pretending to lead is pointing fingers rather than looking for solutions we the people are in danger. The great Hubert Humphrey, who served as Vice President under Lyndon Johnson, is quoted as saying: “To err is human. To blame someone else is politics.” That’s funny, but in this country today we are tearing at the seams. Friendships are ending, crowds are chanting, fingers are pointed. It has become commonplace for some to express their discontent, not in words, but in bullets and our leaders can’t seem to pull us together to do anything about it. Every news cycle it gets harder to imagine those on one side of the aisle sitting down for a meal with those on the other, and that’s bad, because sitting down for a meal together is one of those powerful events that enables us to see those who think or act differently as people. Let me tell you what I mean. I once worked with a big group of men and women of questionable citizenship status. I was a lawn maintenance man, and as one of few among the group with a valid driver’s license I was quickly promoted to crew leader. One morning, driving in to the shop I noticed that a rabbit ran out into the street and the car ahead of me hit it. A few minutes later, as I was loading the mowers and weed eaters into the truck, one of my crew mates, a man from central Mexico named Miguel, rode into the shop on his bicycle. One hand on the handlebars, the other, holding a dead rabbit by its hind legs. He skinned the rabbit. Cleaned it with a hose. Then he asked me to stop by his apartment on the way to our first job so he could put it in his refrigerator. This was one of those jobs where they didn’t want to pay us overtime, so when we had made 40 hours by Friday morning, they sent us home early and Miguel invited me over for lunch at his apartment. I was nervous, but I reluctantly accepted, and there we ate tacos; fortunately, they weren’t rabbit tacos, but over the lunch table, I learned a lot. I learned that six of them lived in a one-bedroom apartment so that they’d have more money to send home to their wives and children. I learned that only one of them knew how to cook, because all the others had left wives and mothers back in Mexico without learning how. I learned that back home they were professionals, one was a dance instructor, but they all had come to Atlanta in the hopes of providing a better life for their loved ones. That’s what I hope for. I hope for such a table even more than I hope for a song – I hope for a table that our whole country can sit around and get to know each other again. A table where people overcome difference and see each other not according to label – not as legal or illegal – republican or democrat – but as a child of God. In this church there is a table. You remember who he ate with – tax collectors and sinners. Fishermen and Pharisees. He even calls on us to come and eat with him, despite our questionable status, despite our guilt. Having been invited by him despite our depravity, we must be bold to live up to such a gift of radical and undeserved graciousness. For your sakes he became poor – is what they said to the church in Corinth, “so who do you think you are keeping it all to yourself?” For our sakes he became human, so who do we think we are pretending that we’re any better than anyone else. For our sakes he gave up his life – that’s what this table is about – and you and I are invited, but if we receive this grace, we had better be prepared to pass it on to our neighbor who doesn’t deserve it either. David was generous to Saul, though Saul was trying to kill him. And Christ is generous to us, so he invites us here. But we must be as gracious to our neighbors as Christ has been to us. Amen.