Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah?

Scripture Lessons: 1 Kings 19: 15-21 and 2 Kings 2: 1-14 Sermon Title: Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah? Preached on June 30, 2019 About two years ago, we moved here from Columbia, Tennessee, which is a considerable town. It has its own mall and its own newspaper, but Marietta often makes Columbia look tiny in comparison. For example, in the Columbia paper, The Daily Herald, I remember that coverage of a hay-bail fire once made the front page. When I read our paper, go to a Braves game, or when we’re out driving around and sitting in traffic, I feel like now we’re living in a big city. That’s until something like a power outage happens. Last Monday evening in our neighborhood, all kinds of people went out in the rain to watch the crew clear the power lines. You better believe we were there. We weren’t missing something like that. Not only was there nothing else to do, but it was good, small town entertainment. Plus, while we were standing there, our coonhound, Junebug made friends with a Labrador retriever. I started talking to this guy standing with his girlfriend. Something about him made him look like he knew what was going on, so Sara asked him if he knew how long it would be before we got power back. By day, this guy was probably an accountant, but in that moment, he rose to the occasion. He looked up and down the power line at the guys working in bucket trucks to see their progress and said, “probably not too much longer.” Some people like to look like they know what they’re talking about. Some people like to appear to be in charge, and a little later this guy stopped one of the linemen and asked him some question about the transformer. The look on the real expert’s face was the same as how I imagine Jimmy Carter looked watching last weeks’ democratic presidential debates. Sometimes, compared to real experts, the amateur looks a little ridiculous. We worry then, about the future, based on who we’re leaving it to. That’s a common enough theme in the worlds of literature, movies, as well as Scripture. It’s there, even in Toy Story 4. Have you seen it? I went to see Toy Story 4 week before last. I didn’t go by myself. Our daughter went with me, but I got a lot out of the movie. It starts off with Woody, a toy ragdoll who is also a Sheriff, dusty and dejected in a closet. He’s a toy come to life, and part of all four of these Toy Story movies is telling how toys live out their purpose by comforting children through life transitions like their first day of school. That’s a simple and wholesome theme in the movies, though it’s not so entertaining, so the drama in all these Toy Story movies comes from Woody the rag doll who has to deal with being replaced by new toys that his owner enjoys playing with more than him. In the first one it’s a spaceman named Buzz Lightyear, and by Toy Story 4, Woody and Buzz the Spaceman have been passed on to a new kid because their first kid grew up and went to college. Their new owner is a little girl who takes off Woody’s Sheriff badge, throws him the closet, and puts the badge on a ragdoll cowgirl named Jessie whom she plays with on her bedroom floor. Well, as soon as the little girl leaves the room what does Woody do? He comes alive, bursts out of the closet, and takes his badge back because Jessie the cowgirl can’t handle the responsibility that comes with such a title as Sheriff. To experts like Woody, amateurs are a nuisance. You can imagine these kinds of feelings coming from Elijah, who’s been a prophet in Israel for years. He’s been dealing with kings and famines, doing miracles, and speaking the truth. What does he need with some young guy following him around? It’s clear from what Elijah said to him in verse 20 of our First Scripture Lesson, “Go back again; for what have I done to you?” that signing on as Elijah’s understudy didn’t come with a hearty handshake and a corner office. Elijah doesn’t want him around and only anoints Elisha as “prophet” because God told him he had to. Now, why is he like that? Maybe you can imagine. It’s hard to pass some things on, especially if you feel like the new guy is replacing you. So, Woody took back his sheriff badge from Jessie and even while Elijah is marching off to be taken up into heaven, he’s still reluctant to entrust anything important to Elisha. He kept saying, “Stay here; for the Lord has sent me as far as Bethel.” Then, “Stay here, for the Lord has sent me to the Jordan.” Elijah just keeps going and Elisha keeps tagging along. Meanwhile, the fate of Israel’s prophetic voice hangs in the balance. This is a precarious place for a society to be. The expert is fading away and doesn’t want to. The amateur might not be ready. Ego and fear get in the way and the reader must wonder, “where is the God of Elijah?” That’s a place many find themselves. Maybe that’s a place we all find ourselves. Sometimes we debate whether or not we are still living in a Christian Country. Many things are changing. A generation steps back as a new generation steps forward, only this new generation isn’t always watching where they’re going for staring at their cell phones. Where are we going and what’s going to happen next? “Where is the God of Elijah?” Well, however you’re feeling about the state of things here in our nation, our Judeo-Christian roots are still very clear when you consider this Second Scripture Lesson. Maybe you’ve heard the phrase, “passing the mantel” of leadership. That comes from this Second Scripture Lesson as Elijah passes his “mantel” or robe to Elisha. This passage is also where we got that great Spiritual, “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,” for Elijah is swept up into heaven on a Chariot of Fire, leaving him with no other option other than passing his mantel on to the next generation amateur Elisha. That he leaves so dramatically, and that he’s completely gone is helpful in a way, for until the expert leaves, the amateur hardly knows what to do. Maybe you remember that moment in Homer’s Odyssey, when Odysseus, returns from his travels to a home used to getting a long without him. His son, Telemachus, has sort of become the man of the house. He’s not used to running things by his father. When he goes out at night, he doesn’t want anyone asking him to be home by 11:00. But when Odysseus returns the son goes to string his father’s bow, and he can’t do it. Or he says he can’t any way. I remember my English professor telling us that there had been books written on this one brief moment. At that time in my life I couldn’t imagine why. That was because we studied the Odyssey before I ever tried to buy my dad dinner or had to help my grandfather find his way through the hallways of a hospital where he kept getting lost. Whenever the mantel is passed the one who receives it must be mindful of the dignity of the one who is giving it. That’s important to consider, because many of our heroes fade away slowly from positions of influence and power, expertise and authority, taken up into heaven piece by piece rather than all at once in a Chariot of Fire. I remember so well a story folks used to tell about a man who had stayed too long as a member of the board at the local bank. Preparing for one meeting no one wanted him at, he was all upset about the way another member of the board had handled some investment and was prepared to question this man (I’ll call him Bill)’s integrity in front of everyone. Bill’s daughter was the one so worried about it, not wanting her father’s reputation to be questioned in such a public way, but she told me that by the time discussion of her father’s handling of this investment came up on the agenda, the past-his-prime board member had fallen asleep. We are all moving in and out of our positions on this earth. Some are ridding off into the sunset, others are just now stepping on to the stage. There’s plenty to fear in either case, for if Woody, the Sheriff is to give up his badge he has to discover who he is without it and Jessie the cowgirl must summon the courage to live up to the high office of toy-sheriff. If Telemachus can string his father’s bow, then Odysseus must start to wonder about his place in his own home, and his son must learn to live in a world where he stands on his own rather than in his father’s shadow. If Elijah is to accept this ride into heaven on a chariot of fire, he puts his faith completely in the God who does impossible things, and if Elisha is to take up his master’s mantle he must do the same, trusting that the God of Elijah will not leave the earth as his master rides off into heaven. That’s a terrifying thing. What guarantee is there that blessing will be passed down from one generation to the next? What assurance do we have that God’s provision will continue? How can we have hope for the future when all we know of God’s presence is that He has been our help in ages past? Elisha saw Elijah take his mantle, roll it up, and strike the water. When he did the water parted so that they two of them crossed on dry ground. “Where is the God of Elijah,” the prophet Elisha asked as he struck the water of the Jordan with his master’s mantle, but the waters parted again. As the 4th of July approaches, I want to share with you a quote from Ronald Reagan: Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn’t pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same. It’s not so different with God’s blessings, which are handed down from one generation to the next, not confined to the past but here and now. Where is the God of Elijah? He is with you and with me, and he isn’t going anywhere. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Help Along the Way

Scripture Lessons: Galatians 3: 23-29 and 1 Kings 19: 1-15a Sermon title: Help Along the Way Preached on June 23, 2019 Being around kids during the summer reminds me of how obsessed with fairness they can be. Whether here at the church or out on the playground, it seems like, “it’s not fair!” is all I ever hear. Again, and again, it’s “but she got a bigger piece,” and “I had to sit in the back seat last time.” Kids can be obsessed with justice, and so often their paying more attention to what everyone else is doing than what’s really going on around them. I heard a radio show this week all about a preschool classroom where the teacher, so tiered of her class tattling on each other, placed an old red, rotary phone in the back of the room, and without plugging it in to anything, told her students that if they needed to tell on one of their friends they could go and tell it to “the tattle phone”. It was a revolutionary success, in that the kids used it instead of constantly streaming to her. Someone had the bright idea to plug this phone in to a recorder so that the radio audience could hear what kids were saying, and this is some of what they said: Romana wasn’t listening to the teacher and Eli hit Kevin. That when Vera was playing family with Tommy, he kept trying to wake her up when she was pretending to be asleep. Also, Sally pushed Billy, and Thomas passed gas right in Eugene’s face (and he didn’t even say excuse me). The funny thing about all this, is that as far as these kids knew, when they got upset, went and told on their friends into the tattle phone, there was no one on the other end listening who could do anything about it, but this segment of the radio show ended with one child who went home and told his father that the tattle phone was broken. I’m sure his dad was thinking, “What do you mean it’s broken. It never worked.” His son said, “Dad, the tattle phone is broken. I told the phone that my friend Nicky was pinching me but after I told the tattle phone he still didn’t stop.” Now some of us have learned this lesson already. We that’s a problem. The world isn’t fair and sometimes you go tell the tattle phone and no one is listening, or you go and tell your teacher, but she says something like, “Well, life’s not fair.” That being the case, parents have to teach their children that sometimes they must stand up for themselves. Grandfathers lecture their grandchildren about personal responsibility, for sometimes we go looking for someone to help and find out that we’re that someone. So, the Prophet Elijah stood up to do something about it. He’s a great hero in the Bible. The backstory to today’s Second Scripture Lesson is that there was an evil queen named Jezebel. She was married to the King of Israel, but he was kind of a joke, so there was no one else to stand up to her idolatry and oppression, therefore Elijah stood up to her. It was a great success too. There was a legendary contest between her god, Baal, and Elijah’s God. Two altars set up. The God who rained down fire and lit his respective altar won, and Elijah did it. He triumphed, only then Queen Jezebel decided not to give up and to just have Elijah killed instead. That’s where the unfairness of the situation gets to him. The prophet Elijah runs for his life. He went a day’s journey into the wilderness, because after standing up against Queen Jezebel and all her priests, still unrighteousness and idolatry ruled Israel. He sat down under a solitary broom tree and asked that he might die saying, “It is enough now, O Lord, take away my life for I am no better than my ancestors.” Then he fell asleep. An angel of the Lord woke him and fed him that he might go 40 more days, making it all the way to Horeb, the mount of God. Then the word of the Lord came to him saying, “What are you doing here Elijah?” He answered, “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.” None of this is very fair, and Elijah was right to tell God all about it. He was right to tattle on Jezebel and to defend his own righteousness, for among all the great villains of Scripture, she’s one of the worst. And among all heroes of our faith, Elijah is among the most faithful. However, seeing his words in print, the part of his speeches that seems funny to me, is how often he uses the pronoun “I.” “I am no better than my ancestors,” he said. “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts.” Then, while they “have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left.” Even though there comes a time when we must stand up for ourselves and can no longer spend all our time tattling to our teacher, this kind of self-centeredness will cloud our vision of reality. Once we’ve learned to stand up for ourselves, we’re not yet out of danger, for if we live into a lie that it’s all up to us, we’re exactly where the Evil One wants us, because this way of thinking and being blinds us to God and holds us far from the truth of how things actually are. Thinking again of the radio show from the preschool, the journalist who set up and listened to the tattle phone asked the preschool teacher, “about how much of their time is spent concerned with tattling.” She said, “This isn’t scientific, but I’d say most of it.” The journalist responded to this statement by saying, “It’s amazing that in a world where they can’t feed themselves, dress themselves, or take themselves anywhere, literally able to do nothing on their own, they become so obsessed with fairness.” Maybe we laugh about that irony when thinking of little kids, but I can’t help but assume that God feels the same way about us. I can’t help but imagine God feeling the same way about Elijah “I, I, I,” Elijah said to God, but it doesn’t matter whether we’re down on ourselves, defending ourselves, or trying to show the world that someone else is really the problem, so long as we are the focus, we can’t see God at work, feeding us, dressing us, and watching over us by night. So, to get Elijah’s focus away from himself, a voice calls him out to the edge of a cliff on top of a mountain. You can imagine what this was like, for maybe you know already that sometimes clarity comes when we stand on the peak to see the great wide world around us. That was the case with a friend of mine named Jim Hodges. Jim was a member of the first church I served, and he was diagnosed with lung cancer. For a while, things were OK. He just had to walk around with an oxygen pump, but then he was hospitalized and I remember well the day he called to tell me that the doctor said it wouldn’t be long. That he didn’t have much time left. We were close, so it was hard for me to see him like that. When I got to his hospital room his wife Carol excused herself and I sat down by his bed. The first thing I asked was if he was afraid. Jim paused. Then he said, “I’m afraid Carol doesn’t really understand the maintenance schedule for the HVAC contract.” After another pause, he said, “Joe, I don’t know what I’m going to do when I see him.” I wasn’t sure who him was at first, so I just listened as he continued talking. “When I see him, what will I do? Will I laugh? Will I cry? Will I sing? When I see Jesus, I’m not sure I’ll know what to do.” Now Jim was from Texas and this happened in a hospital over in Lilburn, but as far as I’m concerned, he could have been meditating on top of a mountain in Tibet for how enlightened he was. His mind wasn’t on cancer, because he could see so far beyond it. There’s no question in my mind that there is no more miserable person than the one who thinks only of himself. I believe that those who love their neighbors as themselves have unlocked the secret to happiness, and those who trust the Lord have a joy within them that no hardship can touch, for they see beyond temporary hardship to love and joy. That matters, because we’re the kind of people who will spend all our time tattling on our friends, instead of rejoicing in our blessings. I’ve caught myself complaining about writing a stack of thank-you notes rather than celebrating the gifts I’ve received. We rage at the dying of the night, forgetting the glory of our days or the promise of our future, but when we stand at the cliff, we see beyond the temporary to glimpse the eternal. Then, we are like David who defeated Goliath. Like Paul who changed the world. Like Jim, who defeated cancer, even though it took his life. Because when we focus away from ourselves, we see our Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, our ever-present help in times of need. Amen.

In Defiance of Babel

Scripture Lessons: Genesis 11: 1-9 and Acts 2: 1-21 Sermon Title: In Defiance of Babel Preached on June 9, 2019 It’s amazing how relevant Scripture is. The great theologian of the 20th Century, Karl Barth, would advise his students to prepare their sermons with the Bible in one hand and the newspaper in the other, as ancient Scripture comes alive day after day. This seemed eerily relevant advice last Monday morning as I read the Marietta Daily Journal. You may know that our current Habitat for Humanity house is a joint effort. Just yesterday, members of our church, coordinated by Tim Hammond and the Mission Council, were scheduled to join together with Methodists, Episcopalians, Catholics, and Unitarians, as well as members from Temple Kol Emeth Synagogue and two mosques to build a single mother named Belinda and her two children a new home. We’re working together with all of them, but this is the funny part. Considering all the different religious groups involved in the build, last Monday morning our paper quoted the project’s co-chair who said, “We call it our Tower of Babel.” Now that we’ve read what God did at the Tower of Babel, I’m not sure I’m glad that’s how he referred to the house. However, I get his point. We live in this world where most of the time, different people can’t do anything like this. It’s as though we’re all speaking different languages. Oftentimes, even those who speak the same language can’t understand each other. If you need proof of the massive level of misunderstanding prevalent in our culture, of course the obvious example is always Washington, DC where “the aisle” is like some deep, unbridgeable chasm. Only, there’s no need to look all the way to Washington for a failure to communicate. Spouses often can’t understand each other. Neighbors don’t always know each other’s names. Then there’s always someone at the family reunion who seems to have come from a completely different planet rather than the same gene pool. The two Scripture Lessons we’ve just read tell two of the accounts where all that changes: first in Genesis, when “The whole earth had one language and the same words,” and then in Acts, when the gathered believers began “to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.” Recorded then, are at least two brief instances when we all understood each other. Because such understanding is rare, it’s good to pay attention to both these passages of Scripture, but we must also pay attention to how they are also different. These two Scripture Lessons are very different in the sense that in one instance humankind uses their common tongue to work together to build a tower so that they might “make a name for [them]selves”, while in the other, it was not humankind, but God who was glorified. That’s a significant difference in motivation. The difference reminds me of a great quote: “It’s amazing how much can be accomplished if no one cares who gets the credit.” So often we care about that, trying to “make a name for ourselves,” which is a bad idea, for be it Ancient Egypt, Mussolini’s Rome, or wherever else masses of soldiers goose step in identical uniforms, when self-interest, vain glory, and pride guide the project, not only a tower, but tyranny is being created. “Let us make a name for ourselves,” they said in our First Scripture Lesson. These are dangerous words. [So] The Lord came down to see the city and the tower, which mortals had built. And the Lord said, “Look, they are one people, and they have all one language; and this is only the beginning of what they will do; nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them. Come, let us go down, and confuse their language there, so that they will not understand one another’s speech.” I used to think that God confused the languages of those who were building the Tower of Babel because God was threatened by what humanity was able to do. However, on heels of the 75th Anniversary of D-Day, I know that what God was worried about was how whenever humans are able to build a tower, we nearly always also build a gas chamber. Every time one nation sets her mind on making a name for herself, she does so with violence and inhumanity towards other nations and ethnicities. That should someone say, “Let’s prove, once and for all, that Marietta is better than everyone else,” the football team will face recruitment violations, the mayor will be tempted to accept bribes, and the chamber of commerce will turn into a den of graft and favors, because when making a name for ourselves is the goal, winning becomes more important than righteousness, control more important than justice, order more important than grace, silence more important than hope, and survival more important than love. Last Thursday night our girls had a swim meet. I had the honor of being a line judge. My duty was to report which kid won each race. Did you know that one each side of the pool there have to be two line judges? One parent from each team, because even in a kid’s swim-team competition, if one subdivision has the chance to “make a name for [her]self” honesty and integrity are bulldozed in the pursuit of vain glory. On the other hand, something different happened at Pentecost. They weren’t speaking the same language, but they could all understand each other. Did you notice that? All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability… And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Scripture doesn’t say that each person in Jerusalem could suddenly understand one language. What Scripture says when describing Pentecost is that each could understand the voice of God speaking to them in their own language. One Bible Scholar named Diamonthi Niles translates this passage saying, “each one heard them speaking in her mother tongue.” I like that. You know why? Because Siri can’t understand my accent. Neither can Alexa. I once heard about an airport in Wisconsin, posting a “help wanted” add for telephone operators who could speak Spanish, German, Mandarin, and Southern. I hate that we live in a world where everyone is supposed to speak like a news anchor and where “ain’t’s” not a word, but on Pentecost it was different, because God’s love is different. Those who seek to make a name for themselves push us towards uniformity. Commerce wants to give every kid a mass-produced Happy Meal and will judge every woman by the same standards of beauty, but God speaks to us in the voice that we don’t have to think to understand. Industrial progress makes us cogs in a wheel to build their towers. Stations on an assembly line to build their fleets. Our jobs can demand that we do things the same way, again and again, all according to the manual rather than our creativity, but God sees us as individuals who are uniquely suited to serve His greater purpose. Scripture tells us that those who are determined to make a name for themselves, will violate and objectify us every time. Though Scripture also proclaims over and over again that God speaks to us in words of love because all our God wants is that we would be saved. As Peter explained to the crowds: In the last days it will be, God declares, That I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, And your sons and daughters shall prophesy, And your young men shall see visions, And your old men shall dream dreams. Even upon my slaves, both men and women, In those days I will pour out my Spirit; Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved. The crucial word there is at the end: “everyone.” That word “everyone” is so different from, “us.” “Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” is so different from, “Let us make a name for ourselves.” For there to be an “us” there must be a “them,” but are we not all children of Abraham? Of course, “everyone” is a problematic word as well. The idea that everyone would get a trophy or that everyone is a winner feels like a culture of pampering rather than reality. On the other hand, how wonderful the world would be if everyone was happy for whoever who won the trophy. If everyone celebrated whoever was given the honor of having his name on a mighty sea vessel, tall tower, or scenic park. If everyone sought good and no one cared who got the credit, and everyone did what they believed was right without worrying so much about who benefited. When life is one long competition between “us” and them, sooner or later everyone loses. But if the Spirit moves again and we all realize once more that life is one long blessing from God to all His children, then truly, everyone will be saved. Early this morning Jim MacDonald, a great leader in our church, sent me the message Tim Hammond emailed to all of yesterday’s Habitat for Humanity volunteers. I didn’t ask Tim if I could quote him up here, because he would have said no, and this is just too important to miss: Hello friends, sisters, and brothers, I have been thinking about this day. We had to get up too early, we had to get on a bus and ride to Mableton, we had to endure incredible rain, slosh through mud, and bump into each other trying to accomplish jobs under the confines of one roof. But I want to be clear about this day. We arose early to come together as missionaries in service to our Lord Jesus Christ. We sloshed through rain and mud with smiles. Under that roof we saw each other, not as people in our way, but as those we might serve. We did our best to give Belinda a safe place to live and take care of her family, as well as worship Christ. Friends, today we cemented our family ties. To God be the glory. Amen.

Why Do You Stand Looking?

Scripture Lessons: Ephesians 1: 15-23 and Acts 1: 1-11 Sermon Title: Why Do You Stand Looking? Preached on June 2, 2019 My family and I spent the last week in Santa Fe, New Mexico. We traveled there with Sara’s family. All of us were in one big house, which was an adventure in and of itself. There was also the challenge that fell mostly to Sara, of managing all the wants and needs of this group of people who all wanted to do different things while also wanting to stick together. One day during the trip we drove out to a pilgrimage cite. That trip made its way to the agenda because, while both their daughters married protestant ministers, Sara’s mother and father are Roman Catholic. Since we were staying so close to El Santuario De Chimayo, a shrine and pilgrimage cite that attracts about 300,000 people each year, they both wanted to go and check it out, having heard that it is like the Lourdes of the Southwest. I was excited to go too, as Presbyterians don’t often get to go to these kinds of places. All over the site were pictures of people who had been healed. Crutches left by those who didn’t need them any longer. It’s a place with a supposed miraculous soil that comes from a holy well, where a man named Don Bernardo Abeyta found a crucifix in 1810, while doing penance. According to this legend, Christ met him out there in the New Mexico desert. This is a story that many people believe, but Presbyterians tend to be skeptical of this kind of thing. However, thinking of Acts, it should come as no surprise that the Lord would be present in New Mexico, for just as Don Bernardo found a crucifix there in 1810 while doing penance, last week we celebrated the Apostle Paul who went all the way to Macedonia and joined God who was already at work there. Likewise, in Acts, Peter went to visit a Roman Centurion named Cornelius, only to find that God had prepared even the heart of one who served the Empire to hear him preach the Gospel. It’s miraculous, and I’ve had the same experience in my life of being surprised by the presence of God in faraway places. As a High School student, I thought that we were sent by this church to bring the light of Christ to Mexico. We went there to build houses just as a group from our church is doing now, only, every time we went, we discovered that God had beat us there. We have to remember that, because the disciples saw Jesus ascend into heaven, and they were stuck for a moment, still staring up at the sky. Of course, they were, for too often we become obsessed with where we saw God at work last, rather than focus our attention on where God is at work now. I believe the life of faith is something like learning to ride a bike. It must be, because in one moment, just as the disciples had Jesus there, so we knew that our father was holding the seat, but as we and the bike moved forward, even though he promised not to, a good father always let’s go. For moments everything was fine, we were riding a bike and it was as miraculous as Peter walking on the water. Then, we looked back to where our father was, and not seeing him where he was, we lost balance and fell, because life, like riding a bike, requires that we pay more attention to where we are going than where we’ve been. Christ ascended into heaven, and the disciples were transfixed, staring up at the clouds. Suddenly two men in white robes stood by them. They said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven?” It’s as though they were saying: He’s not up there in the clouds anymore. You have to stop looking for him there or you’ll fall. While we were out west, we visited the Cliff Dwellings at Bandoleer National Park. This was an exciting place to go and be because there we saw human residences, thousands of years old. They were ancient apartment buildings made of wood and mud. It was incredible. So incredible that Lily and Cece’s cousin Sam wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. He was looking up, and so he slipped and fell and scraped his knee and elbow. It happened on my watch, so I picked him up and brushed him off. He needed a Band-Aid, which of course, I did not have. Luckily, a woman in a blue hat stopped and pulled one out of her little purse. That made him feel better. Icing on the cake was the piece of gum that she pulled out of her purse next. When Sara caught up, this lady said to her, “He did just fine.” I said, “Thank you,” because I thought she was talking about me. She wasn’t. She was talking about Sam, and now I see this experience as one of those little miracles. So far, this woman in the blue hat has worked more wonders than the dirt I got out of the well at El Santuario De Chimayo. That’s not immediately obvious however, because so often we just brush off such acts of the Spirit off as though they were happenstance. Years ago, I was visiting a lonely woman in her home. She was going on and on about how no one from the church ever speaks to her. I was empathetic because it’s always tragic when the church fails at being the church, but it happens, so I apologized. However, then the phone rang. It was a member of the church calling to check on her. I could hear the conversation, “I’ve missed seeing you and just wanted to see how you were,” says the church member on the line. Once she hung up, thanking this woman from the church, ironically, she just launched right back into it, “no one from the church even knows me!” She failed to see Jesus right before her, focused somewhere else. Too often we are the way. Chaining our focus on where he was, we fail to see where he is. In this way, the past becomes a prison to too many, despite the fact that God is even now opening the door to freedom and new life. So rarely do we open our eyes enough to recognize, that Christ is still at work, just not always where we expect him to be. This is an important lesson for our church today, because we have not yet reached the Promised Land, though we are tempted to mistake the bygone days for it. Nor have we missed out on it, for we have yet to see the peak of what God will do among us. However, how God is moving in the present may look different from the past, and where God will lead us demands that we leave so much of our past behind. We don’t really know how God will move among us next, but we must choose looking for Him at work in new and mysterious ways over nostalgia or regret. There’s danger in both. Nostalgia doesn’t seem dangerous. Neither does looking up at the clouds, but there are Christians who are so heavenly minded that they’re no earthly good. There are living people so consumed with ancient history that they risk becoming dusty relics themselves. We sometimes honor the memory of the departed, over paying attention to the newborn. So regretful that we abdicate the promise of the future. So, used to hurt, that we fail to see the miracle worker even when he stands before us. We just look up at the clouds, blind to God all around us. That’s why we must hear them asking, “Men and women of Marietta, why do you stand looking up toward heaven?” This God of ours incarnate in Christ Jesus is alive and well, leading us into a new future. I know it’s coming too. Because as I was working on this sermon, we were way up in the clouds, flying back home from Santa Fe, New Mexico, and I didn’t see him there, but I remembered where he promised he would be: For I was hungry, and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me. [for truly the king of heaven said,] just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me. Let us look into the future knowing that he’s leading us onward. And let us go out into the world today expecting for him to meet us there. Amen.

And She Prevailed Upon Us

Scripture Lessons: John 14: 23-29 and Acts 16: 9-15 Sermon Title: And She Prevailed Upon Us Preached on May 26, 2019 This second Scripture Lesson that I’ve just read contains one of my favorite phrases used in the whole Bible, “And she prevailed upon us.” It’s not a verse that anyone should commit to memory because it contains some life-changing theological truth. This phrase in Acts 16: 15 isn’t like 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.” Memorize that one because it will change your life, but remember Acts 16: 15, “And she prevailed upon us,” because in five words the author of the book of Acts describes my whole childhood. Maybe it describes my whole life, and to know the story of the Christian Church is to understand that there are many heroes like Paul, whose names we know, who had to be pushed to realize their full potential by certain women whose names we might have forgotten. In reality, the book of Acts is the story of the likes of Peter and Paul, who would have been nothing were it not for the likes of Lydia. That’s something like my story. I was raised in a family of strong women. My father’s mother raised him and his two sisters in a loving household, despite her husband’s alcoholism. My mother’s mother, Mrs. Peggy Bivens, was such a force that I never once challenged her, questioned her, or tested her. I remember one morning at her house when we were kids sitting at her kitchen table. Because we were coming to visit, she bought some muffins from Sam’s, special for my sister. This purchase was out of character. She stocked her pantry inspired by weight loss crazes of the 1980’s. She mostly lived on Tab cola and Special K cereal. So, I remember her putting one of these calorie laden Sam’s muffins in front of my sister and saying, “Elizabeth, I bought these special for you.” In that moment, my sister did something I thought was unadvisable. She said, “But Nanny (that’s what we called her), I don’t like those anymore.” After she said that, I remember my grandmother trying to convince my sister that in fact, yes, she did still like those muffins. My sister refused to submit to our grandmother’s determination to influence what she liked and didn’t like, which is the kind of thing that happens when there are two strong women in a family, neither willing to be prevailed upon. What my sister did is not what I would have done. Had it been me, it wouldn’t have mattered if they were peanut butter muffins and I had a peanut allergy. I’d rather face anaphylactic shock than the defy the iron will of my grandmother. A couple times I remember trying to tell her that I wasn’t hungry. Did you ever try that? Have your grandchildren ever tried that? Telling your grandmother that you aren’t hungry when she thinks you look too skinny is an exercise in futility. All this is just to say that I can imagine what it was like for Paul meeting Lydia. “And she prevailed upon us” is how our Second Scripture Lesson ended, and I know what that means. Now, being prevailed upon can be either good or bad. If you always allow yourself to be prevailed upon, you’ll lose yourself. Peer pressure can be like that, and peer pressure can be just plain evil, but in this instance, had Paul stood his ground, his bullheaded insistence might have stifled the spread of the Gospel. Thanks be to God, “she prevailed” upon him, because when she did, she expanded the spread of the Gospel beyond what any of the disciples might have imagined. Those disciples were prone to being narrow minded, despite the Savior’s best intentions. Without Jesus around to correct them, surely, he was nervous about who he was leaving his church to. In our First Scripture Lesson, Jesus had to warn the disciples: “Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” He told them that he would be ascending into heaven, leaving the work of spreading the Gospel to the ends of the earth to them, but for them to do it, he must have known that they were going to need a little help. Why? Because that’s how we are. The choir sang, “every time I feel the spirit,” which makes me tap my foot a little bit. Already, that’s pushing me beyond my Presbyterian comfort zone. However, if we are to feel the Spirit, we have to be ready to sway to the music. We must be swept up in a greater vision, beyond what we could have imagined. If we never allow ourselves to be prevailed upon by God’s vision for our lives, we’ll never live into our full potential, which is bigger than whatever we had been planning for ourselves. I received an inspirational email last week. I’m on the High Point University mailing list because this woman I was having breakfast with at a conference prevailed upon me. Signing up for the email was easier than fighting her on it, and just this week the inspiring email said: “If you don’t imagine, nothing ever happens at all.” That’s a quote from someone named John Green. I don’t know who that is, but he’s right. However, I’d add to it, because what God does in our lives would defy our imagination, which is unfortunate for us, because what’s beyond our imagination scares us. I’ll give you a personal example. About two years ago a man named Jim Goodlet called me. At the time, I was happily serving a church in Columbia, Tennessee. Jim left me a message telling me that he was chairing a Pastor Nominating Committee to find a new pastor to serve the church I grew up in. Now why did I imagine he was calling me? I imagined he was calling me so I could give him the names of some people who might actually be qualified for the position. Never did I imagine that he would want to talk with me. Then a couple weeks later, after a few phone interviews, Jim Goodlet tried to get me to come down here to interview in person. Now that made it a little too real. I got scared then. Why would I do that, I wondered? Why would I even think about going down to Marietta, GA when I was perfectly happy in Columbia, TN. I told Jim that on the phone one day about two years ago, but guess what happened? He prevailed upon me, and it’s one of the best things that has ever happened in my life. How often is that the case? So often the best things in life, the greatest gifts we ever receive, are just like that. We get called out of our comfort zone. CS Lewis said it’s like a child making mud pies in the alleyway receiving an invitation to the seashore. What will she do? Will she go? Will she stay? Will she choose what is unknown and far beyond her reality or will she stick to the small joy of what she has. Will she allow God’s vision for her life to prevail upon her? Years ago our church faced the same choice with this Sanctuary. This Sanctuary was built to seat 400 worshipers. That’s a lot of people, especially when you consider that this Sanctuary that was built to seat 400 was built by a congregation of 96 members in 1853. What were they thinking? There may have had some slow-growth, fiscally responsible members of the congregation who suggested that they pace themselves, but someone like Lydia prevailed upon them and here we are today. You see, this is the way it goes. We have one idea in our head, we settle in to certain expectations and we get used to certain things, but every once in a while, someone like Lydia calls us to do something bigger. It happened in the neighborhood around Kennesaw Avenue last Thursday. Last Thursday if you drove on Maple Avenue or some of the other streets around the Westside School you might have noticed that so many of the mailboxes were decorated. Signs were up congratulating someone named Floyd. I didn’t know who that was, so I asked Chris Harrison our neighbor and he told me that their mailman, Floyd, was retiring after 35 years of delivering the mail. That his wife Katherine said, she’s lived in a house on Floyd’s rout for so long that she’s had a relationship with Floyd the mailman longer than with her husband Chris. This kind of thing doesn’t happen all the time. It doesn’t happen all the time that a mail carrier works for 35 years and retires, it doesn’t happen all the time that a neighborhood even stops to notice something like that, but someone like Lydia prevailed upon all of them. In that neighborhood her name isn’t Lydia. One’s name is Sarah Bullington, another’s name is Becky Poole, and I can imagine how those initial conversations went. “We should do something for Floyd,” one said to her husband. “Sure, we should,” he responded, and then went back to watching the Braves on TV. However, these women weren’t going to let this occasion pass without notice. So, they prevailed upon their husbands and their neighbors. They had a party in the street, raised enough money to send Floyd to Hawaii, and the whole story ended up on CNN. That’s what happens when we listen to the likes of Lydia. While all too often we resist these kinds of voices. By doing so, we stifle the Spirit. We settle for mud pies when God invites us to the beach. Lydia invites us to change the world, but we busy ourselves rearranging the furniture on the deck of the titanic. She reminds us that God speaks of justice on earth and righteousness in government, but what do we settled for? On the eve of Memorial Day, I realize how important the voice of Lydia is, for as the war drums beat again, we must listen to the voices of those mothers and fathers whose children will never come home, to learn again the price of war. Lydia would remind us, if we are faithful enough to listen, that while we have grown used to wartime, God would lead us in the ways of peace. Too often, we don’t imagine enough. We don’t allow God’s vision for the future to prevail upon us. To use Cassie Wait’s image from last Sunday, we don’t pull up enough seats to the table, limiting God’s grace. But what would have happened had Paul ignored Lydia’s voice? He started out this passage in Asia Minor, what is now Turkey. You can read in Scripture about the great signs and wonders performed through Paul and others during his ministry there, but today the skyline of every city in Asia Minor, is dotted with minarets. A journalist trying to follow the footsteps of Paul in Turkey arrived for Mass at the Church of Saint Paul in 1998 and joined a congregation of five other Christians. Macedonia on the other hand. On the cover of your bulletin is a picture of the ceiling of what is called the church of Saint Lydia in Macedonia, which we now call Greece. Thanks be to God she prevailed upon him. And may God, through the likes of such a woman, prevail upon you. Amen.

In Over Our Heads, But Not Alone

Scripture Lessons: Psalm 23 and Acts 9: 36-43 Sermon title: In Over Our Heads, But Not Alone Preached on May 12, 2019 You might know the comic strip, B.C. It runs daily in the Marietta Daily Journal, as well as most other papers, and is set at the dawn of time in the age of cavemen and cavewomen yet offers subtle commentary on our lives today. Last Wednesday that was especially true. In the first frame of the comic, the caveman or “cave-husband” announces, “I’ve invented the dishwasher.” Obviously, this is the first dishwasher ever invented, so in the second frame he demonstrates how one would place a plate in the rack of his new invention, as this is something that’s never been done before. But as he’s bending over and placing the plate in the rack, in the third frame the cavewoman comes up behind him to say, “Good grief! You’re doing that all wrong!” Husbands, has that ever happened to you? Every day that happens to me. Only, the truth is, to do things correctly, I often do need supervision. That’s true of many of us. On this mother’s day we have to give thanks to God for those women who keep us out of trouble. Most men need their mothers, spouses, sisters, and daughters for exactly this reason. If it weren’t for them many of us would be wearing only the t-shirts on top in our drawers and the same ties we bought fifteen years ago. However, I should be careful about making generalizations. Not all men are this way. Take Thomas for example. A few weeks ago, I preached a sermon on the disciple Thomas who doubts the other disciples when they tell him the Lord has risen from the dead. I tried to make the case that when Thomas doubts them, asking for proof, he’s actually being courageous. That would be consistent with his character illustrated elsewhere in the Gospels. In the Gospel of John Jesus said: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going.” You’ve heard these verses. They’re read at most funerals. In response, you can imagine all the disciples saying, “Sure, we know the way.” However, Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” because he was the only man courageous enough to ask for directions. What he didn’t know, he asked about. That was Thomas. What about Peter? Peter is the one in the spotlight this week. He’s been called on to raise a beloved woman from dead. Sounds easy enough. The thing about Peter is that Jesus always believed in Peter more than Peter believed in himself. Do you remember when Jesus was walking out on the water and he called Peter to walk out with him? In the 14th chapter of Matthew’s Gospel Jesus was walking on the sea. Peter saw him with the other disciples and said, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Jesus said, “Come,” so Peter got out of the boat they were in, and started walking on the water, but then he noticed a strong wind, became frightened, and started to sink. What did Jesus do? Peter cried out in his distress and Jesus saved him. That’s what Jesus does when he’s around, but what happens when Jesus isn’t there to bail him out? That’s a question many mothers ask of their children: “What are you going to do when I’m not here to remind you to do your homework, pack your lunch, do your laundry, pay your bills, and make sure you pay attention to road signs?” On Wednesday, page two of the Marietta Daily Journal, was an article titled: “Bridge beam struck, take 19.” If you need a good reason to subscribe to the Marietta Daily Journal, coverage of trucks ignoring the height restrictions on the historic Concord Road Covered Bridge alone makes our local paper invaluable. The truck that did it last week was hauling a trailer, and I can imagine that the driver’s wife or mother wasn’t with him in the truck. Why? Because if she had been, she would have been doing the same thing the cavewoman was doing in the BC comic: “Good grief, you’re doing this all wrong! It says it right there on the sign. The trailer is too tall, honey.” You can imagine what it would be like if Peter were driving that truck. Without Jesus helping him through life he gets in all kinds of trouble. He wants to walk out on the water with the Lord. Jesus tells him, just don’t be afraid. Have faith. Peter can’t do it. He starts sinking. What will happen to Peter without Jesus around? Today is Mother’s Day. A day to acknowledge that without some people, like Peter, we would be a mess. I used to send our girls to preschool un-ponytailed. I’d have to say to their teacher, handing her a rubber band and brush, “Would you please help me with this? I just can’t do it.” We pack to go on a trip. Sara asks our girls and me whether or not we packed enough underwear. This is how it is. On Mother’s Day we have to give thanks for the people who were there helping us figure out how to make it in this world. And we do have to figure it out, because at some point we have to do it without mama there to help us. For Peter it wasn’t mama. It was Jesus, but it’s the same thing. He had seen Jesus do what the widows were asking Peter to do, only it’s one thing to ride in the back seat of a car and it’s another thing to drive. When Peter found himself in an upper room with Tabitha laying in state, clean and completely dead, you can imagine why he asked everyone to leave the room where she lay. It’s so he could panic. “Please come to us without delay,” was the message these widows sent to Peter. “I thought they just wanted me to preach,” I can imagine Peter saying, only there’s more to being a disciple than preaching. Being a disciple also demands a lot of doing, so Peter went, and I’ve been asked to do enough that was out of my comfort zone and beyond my abilities to have some idea of what it must have felt like for him to be there in that room with Tabitha, a crowd of her friends full of unrealistic expectations right on the other side of the door. There are so many moments in life that demand too much from us. And the worst is when I realize so clearly that there’s no one else to help. It has to be me. Mama wasn’t there to do it for him. Jesus wasn’t around to do it either. It had to be Peter. Do you know what that feels like? I can just imagine what images thinking this way might bring up to your consciousness. In this room today are sons who became fathers. Daughters who became mothers, and some who then became mothers to their own mothers. Right here in this sanctuary are those who long ago went to doctors when they were sick, then became doctors themselves, only now in retirement they have to get used to being the patient again. And I’m up here preaching this morning, but who’s in the choir? The man I grew up listening to. Here I am, and if you think it doesn’t terrify me every time, you’d be wrong, because it does. Only walking out in faith into unchartered territory is what life demands. Jesus calls us to walk out on the water and into the room where the dead woman lies, for if we only do what we’re comfortable doing, we never find out what He’ll do through us if we just trust him. If we never have to walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we never learn that just when we think we’re all alone, we’re not. though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; [why?] for you are with me. That’s how it was with Peter. He “put all of them outside, and then he knelt down and prayed.” What did he pray, you might wonder, and I don’t know what he prayed, but had it been me my prayer would have been something like, “Lord, I don’t know how I got into this, but you’re going to have to get me out, so work through me please!” It must have been like the prayer uttered by all those who have to say goodbye but don’t believe they have the strength to do it. The kind of prayer voiced by those who need a miracle to make it in a world without their mother by their side. It must have been like the prayer moaned by the desperate and overwhelmed who know what it feels like to drown, in or away from the water. Peter must have prayed the same prayer that we all pray when we suddenly realize that “if it is to be, it is up to me.” That’s a Harvey Mackay quote. He is a seven-time New York Times best-selling author, who among other books, wrote one called “Beware of the Naked Man Who Offers You His Shirt.” Jean Ray quoted him to me, and it struck me because I have an idea of what it must have felt like to be in that room. To know that it fell to you to speak, but to realize as you utter the words that you’re not alone at all, because this is exactly what they prepared us for. After praying he turned to the body and said, “Tabitha, get up.” It’s a powerful moment, but it’s in moments like this that we so truly know that we’re hardly alone and that we are capable of far more than we ever dreamed. However, our fear would keep us from even trying. Too often we’re so consumed with fear we just sink down into the water. Fear that we’re not enough and never will be ensures that we never live up to what we’re capable of. Last Thursday in the paper was a quote from Laurence J. Peter, a Canadian born educator who said, “Television has changed the American child from an irresistible force into an immovable object.” I got a lot of material out of the MDJ this week, didn’t I? But Mr. Peter is right. Those how only watch TV fall asleep to what they’re capable of. While those kids who walk into our Club 3:30 program hear something else. Their graduation was last Wednesday night, and the speech that struck me the most was from one of the graduates of the program, now a college graduate, and former recipient of the Peggy Bullard Scholarship. Daniel Leon got up there and said, “I want to thank all of you who helped me with my homework, but especially Libba Schell, who would say to me week after week, “one day you’re going to be my doctor or my lawyer.” What gift that was to him, as now he goes out into the world knowing he has the potential to do far more than he’d ever imagined. Like him and like Peter, we have to walk out onto the water, knowing that life may be overwhelming, but we’re never alone. Even when it fell to Peter to say the words, still Christ was with him. For when we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, he is with us. And even when we walk out these doors to do who knows what and to go who knows where, we may be in over our heads, but we are never alone. Amen.

Follow Me

Scripture Lessons: Psalm 30, John 21: 1-19 Sermon Title: Follow Me Preached on May 5, 2019 The book of Exodus tells about manna in the wilderness. “A fine flaky substance, as fine as frost on the ground” that the Israelites lived on as they traveled through the wilderness, from slavery in Egypt to freedom in the Promised Land. An interesting thing about this manna is that it had an expiration date. Some of the people tried to keep some of their manna from one day into the next, but it “bred worms and became foul.” That sounds gross, but a lot of things are that way. Mostly, they are obvious: milk, fish, house guests. However, other things go foul too. Many things, not immediately obvious, will collect worms and become foul if they aren’t used responsibly and in a timely manner. Money for one and time for another. Officially, the Presbyterian Church has called today “Wills Emphasis Sunday.” It seems odd to add “Wills Emphasis Sunday” to a church calendar that includes Easter and Christmas, but wills are important. Considering what greed does to human hearts and how either want or abundance can hurt families, wills are worth thinking about. You’ve seen how siblings will become more like circling vultures in times of death when an inheritance is contested, so making a will must be emphasized because money will collect worms and become foul when selfishness invades our hearts. Time is that way too. Last Friday I was at the Zoo chaperoning a field trip, and right next to the nice, open gorilla habitat that’s there now is a statue of Willie B. As a child I remember going to visit Willie B the gorilla in his one room in the ape house. I remember how sad he looked in there, and how someone got him a TV. I remember staring at him, confined to his four walls, all alone and with nothing to do but watch TV. It was sad, because watching TV all the time when you were born to live in the jungle will do something to you, and fishing will do something to you if you were born to change the world. After everything they’d seen and heard they went fishing. Now, if there is plenty of time to be a disciple, then there’s no harm in spending an evening going fishing. It had been a stressful chain of events for the disciples, after all. They saw their Lord arrested and crucified. They were terrified of being arrested and killed themselves, so these men acted out of fear and ran or denied him. Then there was the funeral, which is physically and emotionally exhausting in and of itself, but after the funeral his body disappeared from the tomb. That wasn’t expected. The empty tomb demanded that they stretch their minds according to what they never imagined possible. Then he appeared to them, risen from the dead, inviting them to touch and see the wounds left by a cruel society, but healed by God. Can you imagine a more eventful few days? Had I been in their position, after all that I would have wanted to take a long nap, eat a big dinner, and spend the next few days at home. Maybe you would have hiked the mountain or hit the golf course. These disciples decided to go fishing. In one sense, if they were just doing that to relax, then you can understand why. Maybe they needed a break, but there’s a difference between taking a break and putting your life on hold. That’s a real temptation. There’s a thing now called a “Gap Year” that’s meant to be a break. After High School, some students wisely take a year to consider what they want to do with their lives. This year of thinking and exploring can lead to students going to college or a career more mature and directed than they would be otherwise, which is good. If you go to college, it’s good to go knowing what you want to do with your life and motivated to get the training to go and do it. However, some take a gap year, travel and relax, and decide that’s what they’d like to do with their lives. I remember being a Senior in College, thinking I’d like to make a life out of being in college. It was great. My friends were there. There were parties to go to. My parents paid for everything. That won’t work, because education is meant to prepare us for life, and if we put off living, we’ll collect worms and become foul. Do you know anyone like that? The disciples went fishing, but this was symbolic more than it was relaxing. After everything they’d been through, the Gospel of John is telling us here that they ended up where Jesus had found them in the beginning. To Jesus it must have seemed as though all his work and all his teaching had done nothing. As though the end of year Milestone Results come in, and his students had the same score they had at the beginning of the school year. They went back to fishing, and this is bad, because time has an expiration date, and if we don’t use the time we have to the Glory of God we will collect worms and become foul. I didn’t take a gap year in between high school and college, but after graduating college and before starting seminary I fell back on the only work experience I had, lawn maintenance. After all that tuition my parents paid, I went back to doing the thing that I had done before college over at the Winnwood Retirement Home. The only thing different was that after college I got a job cutting grass in Buckhead instead of Marietta. In case my parents concern with this career choice hadn’t made the point clearly enough, I’ve told you before how I remember a woman pointing me out as I worked in her yard and whispering too loudly to her children, “That’s why you go to college kids, so you don’t have to do that.” And it’s not that there’s anything wrong with a career in lawn maintenance, but Jesus is making the same point to Peter. That while we can serve the Lord anywhere, there’s a big difference between using our time and our treasure in service to God and killing time and wasting our money. There’s a difference between relaxing and avoiding. There’s a difference between sleeping in and hiding from the world. There’s a difference between looking at your phone to check the time and looking at your phone to check out from our life. So, some people fish to make a living, other people fish to take a break from what they’ve been doing, while these disciples were fishing to put off doing what they’ve been called by God to do. So, Jesus had to show up once again. Described in our Second Scripture Lesson is the third time the Resurrected Jesus revealed himself to his disciples. He has to keep showing up to tell them what they should have known and get them to do what they should have been doing. That’s the way it is with people though. We have to be encouraged, then encouraged again, and sometimes something still holds us back from doing what we know we should. I’ll run into people at the grocery store who will say, “Pastor, I’ve been meaning to get back to church.” “That’s great,” I’ll say. “A lot has changed. How long has it been?” “10 years or so,” they’ll say, and might add, “In fact, it’s been so long that now I’m afraid everyone will wonder where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing.” One of the worst things about procrastination is that if you put something off for long enough you feel too ashamed to just go and do it. So, it was with Peter. Jesus called to him. He was so excited, but did you notice this detail: “When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea.” What does it mean that he put on clothes to go swimming? Most people don’t do that, but I know a woman who was taking a shower when a tornado swept through town, and her last, most desperate prayer, was, “Please Lord, don’t let me die and my body be found naked.” That’s how it is. When we’re innocent babies, completely comfortable in our own skin, we just wander around regardless of who sees what. Then something changes. Adam and Eve ate of the forbidden fruit, then they made clothes to cover their nakedness. A child wonders if he’s too thin or too big and is afraid to take his shirt off. We cover up ourselves with make-up or whatever, hiding ourselves even before the God who stitched us together in our mother’s womb. Here the Gospel writer is telling us that Peter was excited to see Jesus but in seeing him he felt such shame that he had to get dressed before jumping in the water. He couldn’t stand before him like a newborn, innocent, baby. No. He had denied the Savior three times, then didn’t know what to do with himself, so he went back to fishing. You can imagine. What happens next on the shore is significant. Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” When they had finished breakfast Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” but maybe you know why the question, like his denial, came in threes. And maybe now you know why Jesus had to show up to Peter again. All the time we put off what must be done for shame holds us in the past while the future passes us by. So, Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep. Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.” I didn’t understand this part of the story for a long time, but now I do. As a new Associate Pastor, I was honored to be asked by a mother to baptize her child. However, the Senior Pastor wanted to do it. Well, that might have been OK, had I told the mother before we made it to the baptismal font. When the Senior Pastor took the child from her, as the water was marking her infants head, this mother was holding back tears and rage. The look on her face made me want to go fishing. I told my friend George all about it the next morning over breakfast. He looked me in the eye and said, “Well Joe, you really messed up.” That’s not exactly what he said. What he really said can’t be repeated in church. Then he said, “But it’s OK, because you’re going to do it different next time.” We only have so much time before we run out of it. Because the clock is ticking, this church has to be the kind of place where people are set free from shame to live their lives because that’s what Jesus does. He doesn’t give Peter a guilt trip for dragging his feet. He fed him, forgave him, and sent him out to feed God’s sheep. The question he asked Peter is the same one he asks us: Will you feed his sheep? We don’t have enough time to fish any longer. Live today for all it’s worth, and pass on the grace and forgiveness that you have received while you still can. Amen.