John 20: 19-31, page 769
On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!”
After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord.
Again Jesus said, “Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” And with that he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone his or her sins, they are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.”
Now Thomas (called Didymus), one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!”
But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it.”
A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them.
Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.”
Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”
Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
Jesus did many other miraculous signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book. But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.
Sermon
Believing can get to be tricky business, especially for educated adults.
That point was illustrated in an email forwarded to me by Peggy Trettel this week:
A little boy opened the big family Bible, and he was fascinated by it as he fingered through the pages, that seemed to his eyes to be ancient.
Suddenly something fell out of the Bible. He picked the object up to find that it was an old leaf someone had pressed between the pages.
“Mama, look what I found,” the boy called out.
“What have you got there dear?”
With astonishment in the young boy’s voice he answered, “I think it’s Adam’s underwear.”
I guess it happens slowly that we stop expecting to see the Mighty Acts of God unfold right before our eyes. We see a leaf and we don’t see Adam’s underwear, we just see a leaf, but worse than that, what we read in the Bible becomes, not historical events that we expect to see the evidence of, but stories not unlike any other story we’ve heard.
Slowly but surely we associate, not with the young boy from the story, but with Thomas – known down through generations of history as the great Doubter.
And Thomas is easy to associate with. He simply asks to do the thing that we all want to do. If what the disciples say is true, if what the church says is true, if what the Bible says is true than let me see something that proves it!
Essentially I think we all, wisely, feel that way from time to time.
Not many people sign up for experimental surgery, as there is no data telling you whether or not the procedure will be worth the risk.
I don’t expect anyone went up to Orval and Wilbur Wright asking for a lift the first time they defied gravity in the airplane – someone had to try it first to prove that it was safe.
And Thomas wasn’t going to just take the disciples word for it, but wanted himself to touch Christ’s wounds before he would believe.
Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
This statement is for us – gone is the time to touch the wounds for proof, and while when we were children we may have been trusting enough to believe just because its what we were taught, we now must face the reality that Christ is not here to prove himself to us – so for many of us, doubt is a locked door that stands in the way of living out the Christian life – we don’t talk about our belief to others very often, because all too often we’re afraid that we might be asked to answer a question we’re not prepared to answer: so you’re a Christian, do you really believe that all of humanity came from one man and one woman?
So you’re a Christian, do you really believe that Jesus rose from the dead?
So you’re a Christian, do you really believe all those stories in the Bible are true?
Like a locked door, our fear of having to face the questions that may in fact expose heart our own doubts, ensure that we keep the gospel to ourselves.
If we study our scripture passage closer we’ll find that the disciples we’re not very different at all in this respect. They were shut in by a literal locked door. For fear of the Jews they were together in hiding behind a locked door when Jesus came to them to prove to them that he had in fact risen from the dead, and to send them all out that they would not keep this truth to themselves:
Again Jesus said, “Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” And with that he breathed on them and said, Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone his or her sins, they are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.”
You would think that after such an encounter the disciples would have been beating that locked door down to get to the work of spreading the Gospel, but instead, Jesus comes to them again through that door locked out of fear. They had not gone anywhere; they had not done anything though they had proof that Christ had risen from the dead.
A locked door kept them from living out their calling, just as doubt, like a locked door often keeps us from ours.
Fear of death kept them from emerging from their safe room, just as fear that we might not know what to say keeps us from speaking out about our faith – and if you really think about it, we have a better excuse than they did as statistics show that people fear public speaking more than anything else, more even than death.
Rev. Jim Fisher, a minister who is able to worship with his family here often and who regularly attends the Men’s Breakfast Bible study joked last Thursday – “What do you get when you mix a Presbyterian and a Jehovah’s Witness?”
“Someone who knocks on the door but doesn’t know what to say.”
So often we don’t know what to say, but more than that I think we doubt the power of our words. That’s why what Jesus said about words is so important: “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
A great preacher of our time, Barbara Brown Taylor said of this very verse: “seeing is not superior to hearing” as here Jesus puts on equal ground the proof of his resurrection and the word spoken of his resurrection.”
We do not have proof – but do not doubt the power of your words.
I say so because in today’s world your words will do more than you can imagine.
This past week a group of men cut down a whole bunch of trees that grant our church greater exposure from the road. I think we all hope that greater exposure from the road will bring more people into our church – but just because people can see a restaurant doesn’t mean people are going to try it.
What every business owner knows is that nothing matters more than word of mouth – and interestingly one of those men asked our own Dave Adcock about our church, what we are about, and what makes us special. Dave wasn’t sure what to say at first he told a group of us, but after going on about this and that the man told him, “Oh don’t worry about it. We live up in Monroe.” Dave told him plainly, “We’ll, this church would be worth the drive.”
He’s right of course, and I can tell you why this church is worth the drive again and again, but you already know why.
Because you have been here you know, but let’s be thinking about those who have not yet seen but need to know.
The disciples had to take the gospel of Christ out beyond their locked doors, and you must take it out beyond your locked doors of fear and doubt to offer what we have here to a people who need what we have.
If you are looking for something to say, don’t worry about Adam and Eve or the proof of the resurrection:
-Just tell someone who loves music how fantastic this choir is
-Just tell someone who needs a community, that here people pray for each other, care for each other, and most of the time, will take the time to learn your name.
-Just tell some parent with young kids about our preschool bursting forth with light and laughter and love.
-Just tell some parent with teenage kids about our youth group where they can actually get to know their leader, call her on the phone, and be friends with her on facebook.
-Go and tell someone who hates church because the pastor talks for too long that your pastor preached an Easter Sunday sermon that lasted 7 minutes.
And if you really want to get at what matters – go and tell someone that Good Shepherd has nurtured your relationship with God, and if you don’t think that that’s exactly what every person alive wants and needs than you are mistaken.
If the disciples had stayed behind their locked door you would never have heard the life changing Gospel of Jesus Christ – so don’t keep what you have found here to yourself.
Unlock the door, go out, and tell someone about what you have here.
-Amen.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Then They Remembered
Luke 24: 1-12, page 748
On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus.
While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen!
Remember how he told you while he was still with you in Galilee: The son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.”
Then they remembered his words.
When they came back from the tomb, they told all these things to the Eleven and to all the others. It was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the others with them who told this to the apostles.
But they did not believe the women, because their words seemed to them like nonsense.
Peter, however, got up and ran to the tomb. Bending over, he saw the strips of linen lying by themselves, and he went away, wondering to himself what had happened.
Sermon
Many a preacher has spent his or her Easter Sunday sermon on what theological types call “apologetics,” that is, rational argument to convince listeners of the truth of the resurrection.
But it occurs to me that this task is pretty difficult when you consider what all the disciples heard, and yet, they could not believe it.
The disciples rejected what the women were saying as nonsense our pew Bibles say, but this word has also been translated as “an idle tale”, “legend”, “foolishness”, or “mere fantasy”.
Jesus had warned them, and they knew enough about this man to take him at his word. They had seen him do the impossible – heal so many people who had been waiting for someone to do what a doctor could not; but not only that, they had seen him raise others from the dead. So when he fulfilled the prophecy about himself that he spoke to them they should not have been unbelieving, they should have been expecting it all along.
Instead, fearing that they might be discovered and meet the same death on the cross that their leader had suffered, they hid as though they had no idea what was going to happen next and wanted nothing more than to survive.
When you really think about it, if they had been paying attention to what Jesus had been saying, they should never have let those women waste their money on burial materials because they should have known that there would be no body to bury – that there would be no corpse to embalm.
On hearing that what Jesus said would happen had actually happened, the disciples acted as though they didn’t have time for stories and wouldn’t hear anything of it.
What should have been expected had become for the disciples nothing more than foolishness; some broken promise that they knew now would never come true. They had given up on their dream of a new Kingdom, and now was the time to put foolish stories away.
The same is true for so many of us today – now is certainly not a good time for stories.
Families of Russian subway victims, mothers, wives, children, husbands, and friends – their tear- stained cheeks laid down on loved one’s caskets don’t want to hear stories about how everything is going to be hunky-dory.
The unemployed don’t need a children’s story to boost their self-esteem, they need jobs.
And the disciples had watched their leader suffer from a distance, but not a distance far enough away to avoid his screams as they nailed him to the cross, not far enough to miss the brutality of his death by human hands – not far enough away to mistake the cruel message Rome sent anyone who would stand in its way.
The Gospel was a good ideal for a while, but this is not the time for stories, they said, this is the time for survival.
So they abandoned their heritage of faith out of fear, as though faith were not for just such a time as this.
There are plenty of people in the world who believe things about Christianity that just are not true – that for Christians every day is sunshine and roses, that smiles are permanently pasted on our faces – but I’ve read the Bible and I feel confident in saying that not a single one of the good books was written when everything was going great, but when everything was falling apart.
Faith was not given to us so that we would best enjoy the spring time, but it was given to us so that when the waters rise, when Pharaoh tightens his grip, or when Pilate sentences Christ to die, we do not give up, but go on believing.
Unfortunately, like the disciples, it is during hardship and when we are most afraid that we turn away from the very thing that will help us through.
The recession has hit hard and businesses have cut back, but where unemployment hurts the worst is when it gets at how you feel about yourself. When unemployment strikes we forget our faith; we forget to have faith in ourselves.
Finances get tight and the very first thing to be cut from our budget is benevolences. When finances get tight we forget our faith, we forget to have faith in the God who will provide enough.
Believing that there is a reason things happen, that there is a God working on our behalf, these are convenient truths that we forget when life gets hard, and so we forget to have faith in the God who works for good in hardship, who makes all things new, who parts the waters and makes a way where there was no way before.
We leave these stories behind as though they were just foolishness, push them away as though they were fairy tales in favor of what would seem to be the truth.
So those men in clothes like lightening stand before us today, calling us to remember what he said so that we might make sense of the world around us:
“Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: The son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.”
Then that group of brave women remembered his words.
Only in remembering did any of it make any sense – only in trusting that all of it was part of some divine plan could they see beyond their fear and into the future.
-That before there was Rome there was God, and God is still here today while Rome has crumbled to ruins
-That before this recession there was God, and God is still here for you today, will be here tomorrow, outlasting unemployment, foreclosure, and self-doubt.
-That before there was even an earth there was God, and when all of this falls away there will still be this God’s love, outlasting all your fear and all your doubt.
It is so easy to forget and so you must remember that Christ promised death would not have the final word – now open your eyes, remember and believe that Christ has risen!
Alleluia.
Amen.
On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus.
While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen!
Remember how he told you while he was still with you in Galilee: The son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.”
Then they remembered his words.
When they came back from the tomb, they told all these things to the Eleven and to all the others. It was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the others with them who told this to the apostles.
But they did not believe the women, because their words seemed to them like nonsense.
Peter, however, got up and ran to the tomb. Bending over, he saw the strips of linen lying by themselves, and he went away, wondering to himself what had happened.
Sermon
Many a preacher has spent his or her Easter Sunday sermon on what theological types call “apologetics,” that is, rational argument to convince listeners of the truth of the resurrection.
But it occurs to me that this task is pretty difficult when you consider what all the disciples heard, and yet, they could not believe it.
The disciples rejected what the women were saying as nonsense our pew Bibles say, but this word has also been translated as “an idle tale”, “legend”, “foolishness”, or “mere fantasy”.
Jesus had warned them, and they knew enough about this man to take him at his word. They had seen him do the impossible – heal so many people who had been waiting for someone to do what a doctor could not; but not only that, they had seen him raise others from the dead. So when he fulfilled the prophecy about himself that he spoke to them they should not have been unbelieving, they should have been expecting it all along.
Instead, fearing that they might be discovered and meet the same death on the cross that their leader had suffered, they hid as though they had no idea what was going to happen next and wanted nothing more than to survive.
When you really think about it, if they had been paying attention to what Jesus had been saying, they should never have let those women waste their money on burial materials because they should have known that there would be no body to bury – that there would be no corpse to embalm.
On hearing that what Jesus said would happen had actually happened, the disciples acted as though they didn’t have time for stories and wouldn’t hear anything of it.
What should have been expected had become for the disciples nothing more than foolishness; some broken promise that they knew now would never come true. They had given up on their dream of a new Kingdom, and now was the time to put foolish stories away.
The same is true for so many of us today – now is certainly not a good time for stories.
Families of Russian subway victims, mothers, wives, children, husbands, and friends – their tear- stained cheeks laid down on loved one’s caskets don’t want to hear stories about how everything is going to be hunky-dory.
The unemployed don’t need a children’s story to boost their self-esteem, they need jobs.
And the disciples had watched their leader suffer from a distance, but not a distance far enough away to avoid his screams as they nailed him to the cross, not far enough to miss the brutality of his death by human hands – not far enough away to mistake the cruel message Rome sent anyone who would stand in its way.
The Gospel was a good ideal for a while, but this is not the time for stories, they said, this is the time for survival.
So they abandoned their heritage of faith out of fear, as though faith were not for just such a time as this.
There are plenty of people in the world who believe things about Christianity that just are not true – that for Christians every day is sunshine and roses, that smiles are permanently pasted on our faces – but I’ve read the Bible and I feel confident in saying that not a single one of the good books was written when everything was going great, but when everything was falling apart.
Faith was not given to us so that we would best enjoy the spring time, but it was given to us so that when the waters rise, when Pharaoh tightens his grip, or when Pilate sentences Christ to die, we do not give up, but go on believing.
Unfortunately, like the disciples, it is during hardship and when we are most afraid that we turn away from the very thing that will help us through.
The recession has hit hard and businesses have cut back, but where unemployment hurts the worst is when it gets at how you feel about yourself. When unemployment strikes we forget our faith; we forget to have faith in ourselves.
Finances get tight and the very first thing to be cut from our budget is benevolences. When finances get tight we forget our faith, we forget to have faith in the God who will provide enough.
Believing that there is a reason things happen, that there is a God working on our behalf, these are convenient truths that we forget when life gets hard, and so we forget to have faith in the God who works for good in hardship, who makes all things new, who parts the waters and makes a way where there was no way before.
We leave these stories behind as though they were just foolishness, push them away as though they were fairy tales in favor of what would seem to be the truth.
So those men in clothes like lightening stand before us today, calling us to remember what he said so that we might make sense of the world around us:
“Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: The son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.”
Then that group of brave women remembered his words.
Only in remembering did any of it make any sense – only in trusting that all of it was part of some divine plan could they see beyond their fear and into the future.
-That before there was Rome there was God, and God is still here today while Rome has crumbled to ruins
-That before this recession there was God, and God is still here for you today, will be here tomorrow, outlasting unemployment, foreclosure, and self-doubt.
-That before there was even an earth there was God, and when all of this falls away there will still be this God’s love, outlasting all your fear and all your doubt.
It is so easy to forget and so you must remember that Christ promised death would not have the final word – now open your eyes, remember and believe that Christ has risen!
Alleluia.
Amen.
Monday, March 29, 2010
When Darkness Reigns
Luke 22: 47-53, page 747
While he was still speaking a crowd came up, and the man who was called Judas, one of the Twelve, was leading them. He approached Jesus to kiss him, but Jesus asked him, “Judas, are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?”
When Jesus’ followers saw what was going to happen, they said, “Lord, should we strike with our swords?” And one of them struck the servant of the high priest, cutting off his right ear.
But Jesus answered, “No more of this!” And he touched the man’s ear and healed him.
Then Jesus said to the chief priests, the officers of the temple guard, and the elders, who had come for him, “Am I leading a rebellion, that you have come with swords and clubs? Everyday I was with you in the temple courts, and you did not lay a hand on me. But this is your hour – when darkness reigns.”
Sermon
People who ask questions are not always looking for answers.
Have you ever been in a conversation with someone who you know is not listening to you? They’re nodding their head as you’re talking, but you can tell that they’re not paying any attention at all – when my wife Sara thinks that’s what I might be doing she’ll stop talking, and ask me a question – not because she wants to know the answer, but because she wants to know whether I’m paying attention or not. I’ll have to scramble for something to say and I’ll just hope I’ve said something that’s close enough: “I’m so sorry your boss is acting that way,” or “I just think Lily is doing great.”
Something else that’s sometimes hard to deal with are those questions that aren’t really questions, but an accusation: “Joe, have you had a chance to sweep the floor?” my wife Sara might ask, knowing full well that I haven’t given all the dust and dog hair on Lily’s knees that she’s accumulated crawling all over the house, but wanting to say something more kind than, “Joe, you’ve had all day to sweep the floor so why on earth are my baby girl’s knees so dirty, it looks like she’s been crawling all over a supermarket!”
But worst of all is that question that won’t wait for an answer because the people who ask it have already decided what they’re going to do: “Lord, should we strike with our swords?” If you look closely at this sentence I suppose you do have to call it a question as it ends in a question mark, but verse 49 doesn’t say that the disciples asked Jesus this question. Instead, “they said, “Lord, should we strike with our swords?”
And not waiting for answer, one of them struck the servant of the high priest with his sword, cutting off his right ear.
The disciples’ rashness shouldn’t be surprising. They are defending Christ – and all of us who know the love that he has for us can imagine doing the same thing – wanting to show that same love he has for us by defending him from the arrest and execution that they now know is waiting for him.
They knew what they were going to do before they asked; so they weren’t really asking at all as they weren’t listening for an answer.
The approaching gang armed with swords and clubs isn’t interested in listening to anything either. They had not gone out to find Jesus for a nice conversation, but to silence him before he went and did something that might catch the Roman’s attention.
As he marched into Jerusalem the Pharisees were there and one said to Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!”
These religious authorities knew that this crowd celebrating Jesus was going a little too far, that Jesus wasn’t just a teacher, but was one that threatened stability, who was pressing for things to change, and who had captured the imagination of the people to such a degree that they cheered for him in the street, welcoming him into the city with shouts of:
“Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!”
“Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”
With those words, most especially that dangerous word “king,” the Pharisees knew what they had to do – they had to stop this man before he tried to take the power that the people seemed to want him to have.
The Pharisees’ concern sounds strange to those of us who know that Jesus wasn’t interested in political power. We know that Jesus could have explained to them how he wasn’t interested in becoming the Prince of Jerusalem; he was the Prince of Peace. That he didn’t care about gaining power, he already had the power of God at his command. But the chief priests, the officers of the temple guard, and the elders had not gone out to find Jesus to straighten this misunderstanding out or to hear what he had to say, and after some impulsive disciple attacked the very thing used for hearing had been cut off.
What we have in this scripture lesson are two groups bent on facing each other head on – not in a discussion, not to find some compromise, but with minds made up, one group bent on defending Jesus, the other bent on maintaining the order that Christ threatened by arresting him and keeping him quiet, there is no peaceful solution left.
Neither group was interested in hearing anything, but both had already made up their minds.
A situation not too unlike rallies I’ve seen recently outside the White House – two opposing sides, both having already made up their minds, and certainly not interested in hearing what the other side has to say.
Judging from the placards, protestors are shooting to offend their opponents, not dialogue with them:
“If socialized medicine is best then why didn’t Ted Kennedy go to Canada?”
Or “what moron wouldn’t want free health care?”
It would seem as though everyone has already decided what it is that they believe, what they believe the other side believes, and they are no more interested in working together or hearing what the other side has to say than Jesus was in picking which side he would like to be on.
What so captivates me about our scripture lesson for today is that I bet both sides also thought they knew what Jesus would be doing – that the chief priests, the officers of the temple guard, the elders, and their servants assumed that Jesus would be putting up a fight, that they had better come armed, poised to defend themselves and to bring down this band of disciples with a strong hand.
The disciples may have assumed the same thing – that Jesus would be ordering them to defend themselves, that he would stand behind them and pray that God would deliver them from their enemies and support them in their triumphant assault on the corrupt religious establishment.
But Jesus defies both groups’ expectations. He doesn’t even side with his disciples, but as the two groups face each other we see that Christ is present to the injured man, touching his wound and healing his ear.
Like a rally outside the white house, no one went out to hear what the other side had to say, those banners and chants aren’t for educating the other side but for rallying supporters, the disciples had decided they would be fighting, the chief priests, guards, servants and elders had already decided that they would be arresting, but Christ is not for or against either of these groups, he is not on one of those two sides, he is serving the wounded man.
I believe this wounded man was the only one who truly heard something that night, that night when people stopped listening and started fighting, that night when darkness reigned. It is so ironic that the man without an ear would be the only one who heard the good news but it is this man who is changed, it is this man who knew in that moment of chaos who Christ truly was and what Christ came to earth to do.
In that moment, that moment when darkness reigned, the light that shown in the darkness was a sign of kindness when all around was hate, a moment of seeing not two sides but two people with a common humanity, it was just a flicker there, but when darkness reigned all around, when the disciples stopped listening, when the religious authorities had already made up their mind, there was one man who saw Christ plainly.
In a world where issues divide us, where the news would keep you worried and threatened, in a world perfectly happy to keep you from listening to anyone who thinks differently – it would seem that we too live in a world where darkness reigns.
Hold fast then to this truth – Christ doesn’t care about your issues – Christ cares about you.
Christ sides, not with the Democrats or the Republicans, but with the hurt, the afflicted, and the lost – and if you follow him you will most certainly never be lost.
Listen then; hear his voice – and trust that when darkness reigns there is a light that will never go out.
Amen.
While he was still speaking a crowd came up, and the man who was called Judas, one of the Twelve, was leading them. He approached Jesus to kiss him, but Jesus asked him, “Judas, are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?”
When Jesus’ followers saw what was going to happen, they said, “Lord, should we strike with our swords?” And one of them struck the servant of the high priest, cutting off his right ear.
But Jesus answered, “No more of this!” And he touched the man’s ear and healed him.
Then Jesus said to the chief priests, the officers of the temple guard, and the elders, who had come for him, “Am I leading a rebellion, that you have come with swords and clubs? Everyday I was with you in the temple courts, and you did not lay a hand on me. But this is your hour – when darkness reigns.”
Sermon
People who ask questions are not always looking for answers.
Have you ever been in a conversation with someone who you know is not listening to you? They’re nodding their head as you’re talking, but you can tell that they’re not paying any attention at all – when my wife Sara thinks that’s what I might be doing she’ll stop talking, and ask me a question – not because she wants to know the answer, but because she wants to know whether I’m paying attention or not. I’ll have to scramble for something to say and I’ll just hope I’ve said something that’s close enough: “I’m so sorry your boss is acting that way,” or “I just think Lily is doing great.”
Something else that’s sometimes hard to deal with are those questions that aren’t really questions, but an accusation: “Joe, have you had a chance to sweep the floor?” my wife Sara might ask, knowing full well that I haven’t given all the dust and dog hair on Lily’s knees that she’s accumulated crawling all over the house, but wanting to say something more kind than, “Joe, you’ve had all day to sweep the floor so why on earth are my baby girl’s knees so dirty, it looks like she’s been crawling all over a supermarket!”
But worst of all is that question that won’t wait for an answer because the people who ask it have already decided what they’re going to do: “Lord, should we strike with our swords?” If you look closely at this sentence I suppose you do have to call it a question as it ends in a question mark, but verse 49 doesn’t say that the disciples asked Jesus this question. Instead, “they said, “Lord, should we strike with our swords?”
And not waiting for answer, one of them struck the servant of the high priest with his sword, cutting off his right ear.
The disciples’ rashness shouldn’t be surprising. They are defending Christ – and all of us who know the love that he has for us can imagine doing the same thing – wanting to show that same love he has for us by defending him from the arrest and execution that they now know is waiting for him.
They knew what they were going to do before they asked; so they weren’t really asking at all as they weren’t listening for an answer.
The approaching gang armed with swords and clubs isn’t interested in listening to anything either. They had not gone out to find Jesus for a nice conversation, but to silence him before he went and did something that might catch the Roman’s attention.
As he marched into Jerusalem the Pharisees were there and one said to Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!”
These religious authorities knew that this crowd celebrating Jesus was going a little too far, that Jesus wasn’t just a teacher, but was one that threatened stability, who was pressing for things to change, and who had captured the imagination of the people to such a degree that they cheered for him in the street, welcoming him into the city with shouts of:
“Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!”
“Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”
With those words, most especially that dangerous word “king,” the Pharisees knew what they had to do – they had to stop this man before he tried to take the power that the people seemed to want him to have.
The Pharisees’ concern sounds strange to those of us who know that Jesus wasn’t interested in political power. We know that Jesus could have explained to them how he wasn’t interested in becoming the Prince of Jerusalem; he was the Prince of Peace. That he didn’t care about gaining power, he already had the power of God at his command. But the chief priests, the officers of the temple guard, and the elders had not gone out to find Jesus to straighten this misunderstanding out or to hear what he had to say, and after some impulsive disciple attacked the very thing used for hearing had been cut off.
What we have in this scripture lesson are two groups bent on facing each other head on – not in a discussion, not to find some compromise, but with minds made up, one group bent on defending Jesus, the other bent on maintaining the order that Christ threatened by arresting him and keeping him quiet, there is no peaceful solution left.
Neither group was interested in hearing anything, but both had already made up their minds.
A situation not too unlike rallies I’ve seen recently outside the White House – two opposing sides, both having already made up their minds, and certainly not interested in hearing what the other side has to say.
Judging from the placards, protestors are shooting to offend their opponents, not dialogue with them:
“If socialized medicine is best then why didn’t Ted Kennedy go to Canada?”
Or “what moron wouldn’t want free health care?”
It would seem as though everyone has already decided what it is that they believe, what they believe the other side believes, and they are no more interested in working together or hearing what the other side has to say than Jesus was in picking which side he would like to be on.
What so captivates me about our scripture lesson for today is that I bet both sides also thought they knew what Jesus would be doing – that the chief priests, the officers of the temple guard, the elders, and their servants assumed that Jesus would be putting up a fight, that they had better come armed, poised to defend themselves and to bring down this band of disciples with a strong hand.
The disciples may have assumed the same thing – that Jesus would be ordering them to defend themselves, that he would stand behind them and pray that God would deliver them from their enemies and support them in their triumphant assault on the corrupt religious establishment.
But Jesus defies both groups’ expectations. He doesn’t even side with his disciples, but as the two groups face each other we see that Christ is present to the injured man, touching his wound and healing his ear.
Like a rally outside the white house, no one went out to hear what the other side had to say, those banners and chants aren’t for educating the other side but for rallying supporters, the disciples had decided they would be fighting, the chief priests, guards, servants and elders had already decided that they would be arresting, but Christ is not for or against either of these groups, he is not on one of those two sides, he is serving the wounded man.
I believe this wounded man was the only one who truly heard something that night, that night when people stopped listening and started fighting, that night when darkness reigned. It is so ironic that the man without an ear would be the only one who heard the good news but it is this man who is changed, it is this man who knew in that moment of chaos who Christ truly was and what Christ came to earth to do.
In that moment, that moment when darkness reigned, the light that shown in the darkness was a sign of kindness when all around was hate, a moment of seeing not two sides but two people with a common humanity, it was just a flicker there, but when darkness reigned all around, when the disciples stopped listening, when the religious authorities had already made up their mind, there was one man who saw Christ plainly.
In a world where issues divide us, where the news would keep you worried and threatened, in a world perfectly happy to keep you from listening to anyone who thinks differently – it would seem that we too live in a world where darkness reigns.
Hold fast then to this truth – Christ doesn’t care about your issues – Christ cares about you.
Christ sides, not with the Democrats or the Republicans, but with the hurt, the afflicted, and the lost – and if you follow him you will most certainly never be lost.
Listen then; hear his voice – and trust that when darkness reigns there is a light that will never go out.
Amen.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Another Chance
Luke 13: 1-9, page 738
Now there were some present at that time who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices.
Jesus answered, “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way?
I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish.
Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them – do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem?
I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish.”
Then he told this parable:
“A man had a fig tree, planted in his vineyard, and he went to look for fruit on it, but did not find any. So he said to the man who took care of the vineyard, ‘For three years now I’ve been coming to look for fruit on this fig tree and haven’t found any. Cut it down! Why should it use up the soil?’
“’Sir,’ the man replied, ‘leave it alone for one more year, and I’ll dig around it and fertilize it. If it bears fruit next year, fine! If not, then cut it down.’”
Sermon
You have to be careful with people, because if they don’t know the answer, they may well just make something up.
About two years ago a group of us were flying over Haiti in a little propeller plane driven by a Cuban Pilate.
The turbulence was horrible and we were all thankful to finally be on solid ground again, and Jane Carney, I think it was, says to someone else from our congregation, “I wasn’t worried. Our pastor was head bowed in prayer the whole flight.”
And I’m glad that when she saw me with my head bowed on that turbulent flight that’s what she thought I was doing – that description paints me in a much holier light than what I was actually doing – putting my head down between my legs because I thought doing that would keep me from throwing up.
Sometimes we make up what we need to hear in the moment – and whether what we make up is the truth or not may not matter because what we make up may be more comforting than the truth.
There was a group of Galileans, whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices – this phrase isn’t as descriptive as it could be, but what we may assume is that they were murdered, perhaps unjustly, by Pilate while on pilgrimage to make a sacrifice at the Temple in Jerusalem.
And then there were the 18 who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them.
When confronted with such bad things we want an answer, and whether the answer is true or not may not matter because having an answer feels better than not knowing.
Why do bad things happen?
Why did Pilate murder those people?
Why did that tower fall?
Any answer to these questions will do, just so long as there is a reason, an answer, because living with the reality that stuff just happens isn’t very comfortable.
An answer that the masses seemed to cling to was that of retribution for sin – that bad things happen to bad people – that suffering is deserved – that when people suffer, when they are punished, you need not worry about falling to the same fate as long as you keep your nose clean and mind your own business.
This is a Biblical enough answer – we read from Deuteronomy that disobedience results in punishment laid out, not only on the disobedient, but the children, even unto the grandchildren.
Experience would testify to this truth – as my mom has said, when there is an alcoholic in the family no one leaves unscathed, even when only one member of the family embodies that alcoholism.
But when the crowd comes to Jesus pointing fingers – first at Pilate – though poised in a campaign for King of the Jews, Jesus does not seize an opportunity for mud-slinging, but calls the crowd to account for their own infractions.
“But unless you repent,” he says.
“Unless you repent, you too will all perish.”
So Christ calls us to focus not on what lies outside of our control because what does judgment of our neighbors serve but to build up our self-righteousness? Christ calls us to focus on what we are in control of.
Something that I love are nights when sleep comes so easy I realize I am dreaming before I’ve put my book down. On those nights I place my book on my bedside table, turn out my lamp, kiss my wife – on the lips or the cheek, but if I can’t find her lips or her cheek I’ll settle for her shoulder. Then I’ll close my eyes and rest sweeps over me.
Something that I hate are nights when worry about tomorrow preoccupies me, thoughts flashing back in forth about things I need to do, that I’m worried about doing, and I don’t have enough time to do it all before the day has even started.
But who really knows about tomorrow?
“Cut it down! Why should it use up the soil?” The vineyard owner says to the gardener.
“Sir, the man replied, ‘leave it alone for one more year, and I’ll dig around it and fertilize it. If it bears fruit next year, fine! If not, then cut it down.”
The scripture lesson ends with that – an ambiguous ending if ever there was one.
But if we have today we can all assume we have been spared the ax, unlike the men, women, and children victim to the tragedies of life.
So what will you do with today?
Our church has surely been spared the ax having bounced back from a huge deficit. We’ve been given another year thanks be to God – but should we use God’s blessing as an opportunity to return to old ways that got us into trouble in the first place?
Whatever yesterday was like, disappointments, mistakes, we have all been given the gift of today – and today the gardener is ready to work through you, nourishing you by his Spirit, forgiving you your sins by his almighty grace – that you might bear fruit.
In this time of lent – you are called to give thanks to the one who has spared you from the ax and given you the gift of today.
Do not squander this gift by returning to the ways of sin, but be about the practice of examination – not to the examination of your neighbors to fuel self-righteousness – but to examine something you can actually change.
Do not waste this gift.
You have been given today – so turn away from your own sin and live into the new life that our Lord Jesus Christ has provided you.
No you do not deserve it.
No you could never earn it.
But here it is – here today is – a chance for new life.
-Amen.
Now there were some present at that time who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices.
Jesus answered, “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way?
I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish.
Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them – do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem?
I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish.”
Then he told this parable:
“A man had a fig tree, planted in his vineyard, and he went to look for fruit on it, but did not find any. So he said to the man who took care of the vineyard, ‘For three years now I’ve been coming to look for fruit on this fig tree and haven’t found any. Cut it down! Why should it use up the soil?’
“’Sir,’ the man replied, ‘leave it alone for one more year, and I’ll dig around it and fertilize it. If it bears fruit next year, fine! If not, then cut it down.’”
Sermon
You have to be careful with people, because if they don’t know the answer, they may well just make something up.
About two years ago a group of us were flying over Haiti in a little propeller plane driven by a Cuban Pilate.
The turbulence was horrible and we were all thankful to finally be on solid ground again, and Jane Carney, I think it was, says to someone else from our congregation, “I wasn’t worried. Our pastor was head bowed in prayer the whole flight.”
And I’m glad that when she saw me with my head bowed on that turbulent flight that’s what she thought I was doing – that description paints me in a much holier light than what I was actually doing – putting my head down between my legs because I thought doing that would keep me from throwing up.
Sometimes we make up what we need to hear in the moment – and whether what we make up is the truth or not may not matter because what we make up may be more comforting than the truth.
There was a group of Galileans, whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices – this phrase isn’t as descriptive as it could be, but what we may assume is that they were murdered, perhaps unjustly, by Pilate while on pilgrimage to make a sacrifice at the Temple in Jerusalem.
And then there were the 18 who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them.
When confronted with such bad things we want an answer, and whether the answer is true or not may not matter because having an answer feels better than not knowing.
Why do bad things happen?
Why did Pilate murder those people?
Why did that tower fall?
Any answer to these questions will do, just so long as there is a reason, an answer, because living with the reality that stuff just happens isn’t very comfortable.
An answer that the masses seemed to cling to was that of retribution for sin – that bad things happen to bad people – that suffering is deserved – that when people suffer, when they are punished, you need not worry about falling to the same fate as long as you keep your nose clean and mind your own business.
This is a Biblical enough answer – we read from Deuteronomy that disobedience results in punishment laid out, not only on the disobedient, but the children, even unto the grandchildren.
Experience would testify to this truth – as my mom has said, when there is an alcoholic in the family no one leaves unscathed, even when only one member of the family embodies that alcoholism.
But when the crowd comes to Jesus pointing fingers – first at Pilate – though poised in a campaign for King of the Jews, Jesus does not seize an opportunity for mud-slinging, but calls the crowd to account for their own infractions.
“But unless you repent,” he says.
“Unless you repent, you too will all perish.”
So Christ calls us to focus not on what lies outside of our control because what does judgment of our neighbors serve but to build up our self-righteousness? Christ calls us to focus on what we are in control of.
Something that I love are nights when sleep comes so easy I realize I am dreaming before I’ve put my book down. On those nights I place my book on my bedside table, turn out my lamp, kiss my wife – on the lips or the cheek, but if I can’t find her lips or her cheek I’ll settle for her shoulder. Then I’ll close my eyes and rest sweeps over me.
Something that I hate are nights when worry about tomorrow preoccupies me, thoughts flashing back in forth about things I need to do, that I’m worried about doing, and I don’t have enough time to do it all before the day has even started.
But who really knows about tomorrow?
“Cut it down! Why should it use up the soil?” The vineyard owner says to the gardener.
“Sir, the man replied, ‘leave it alone for one more year, and I’ll dig around it and fertilize it. If it bears fruit next year, fine! If not, then cut it down.”
The scripture lesson ends with that – an ambiguous ending if ever there was one.
But if we have today we can all assume we have been spared the ax, unlike the men, women, and children victim to the tragedies of life.
So what will you do with today?
Our church has surely been spared the ax having bounced back from a huge deficit. We’ve been given another year thanks be to God – but should we use God’s blessing as an opportunity to return to old ways that got us into trouble in the first place?
Whatever yesterday was like, disappointments, mistakes, we have all been given the gift of today – and today the gardener is ready to work through you, nourishing you by his Spirit, forgiving you your sins by his almighty grace – that you might bear fruit.
In this time of lent – you are called to give thanks to the one who has spared you from the ax and given you the gift of today.
Do not squander this gift by returning to the ways of sin, but be about the practice of examination – not to the examination of your neighbors to fuel self-righteousness – but to examine something you can actually change.
Do not waste this gift.
You have been given today – so turn away from your own sin and live into the new life that our Lord Jesus Christ has provided you.
No you do not deserve it.
No you could never earn it.
But here it is – here today is – a chance for new life.
-Amen.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
The Fox is in the Hen House
Luke 13: 31-35, page 739
At that time some Pharisees came to Jesus and said to him, “Leave this place and go somewhere else. Herod wants to kill you.”
He replied, “Go tell that fox, ‘I will drive out demons and heal people today and tomorrow, and on the third day I must reach my goal.’ In any case, I must keep going today and tomorrow and the next day – for surely no prophet can die outside Jerusalem!
“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!
Look, your house is left to you desolate.
I tell you, you will not see me again until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’”
Sermon
Folks who have never been to Good Shepherd will sometimes ask me what this church is like – is Good Shepherd conservative, liberal, or moderate; what kind of people attend; where will Good Shepherd be in 15 years?
It’s hard to answer questions like these, as they are questions about a group of people, made up of individuals who may have differing opinions – so what I usually say is something like – there is a person at Good Shepherd Presbyterian Church who felt so led as to donate her complete pay check from the last two weeks to the church in the hopes that this church would use her money to make a difference to someone.
There is a person here at Good Shepherd who was worried about the state of my dress shoes and so he took them all home and polished them – now, as you can see, they look good as new.
There is a person here who had a dream about helping organize the Small Groups at this church, and the next day she wrote me an email to volunteer, just a few hours after I had lunch with a couple telling them that I sure do wish there was something I could do to help them get into a small group but I just don’t have the time.
Good Shepherd is a church full of faithful people – some who are conservative, some who are liberal, some who love to hunt, some who are petrified of firearms, some who struggle to be faithful, some who hear God’s voice as clear as a bell.
So you see – it’s hard to tie down any group of people – we’re individuals – we’re different – but that doesn’t stop us from reaching certain conclusions – about churches - about race – about class – about age. And so the first verse of our gospel lesson is surprising – “some Pharisees came to Jesus and said to him, “Leave this place and go somewhere else. Herod wants to kill you.”
I thought all Pharisees were bad – but remember Nicodeemus, that faithful man of the law who came to Jesus three times in the Gospel of John, going so far as the assist Joseph of Aramethia in preparing Jesus’ body of burial.
Then there’s the Apostle Paul who completely turns away from his life as a Pharisee to follow Jesus, even to death.
On the one hand you have these two, Nicodemus and Paul, on the other you have those Pharisees who conspired to have Jesus killed – and in the middle maybe you have this group who didn’t want Herod to kill him, but weren’t ready to leave everything to follow him either.
In Bible study this past week Paul McDonald said, you might say they were hedging their bets – if he’s the Christ than they’ve done him a favor, if he’s not than no one has to know we tried to help him.
In some ways that is where I think most of us are – we’re happy to be Christian, as long as being Christian doesn’t ask us to do anything that might get us in trouble – we’re happy to follow Jesus, wear a cross around our neck, maybe even invite a friend to church – and even though we don’t agree with everything on TV we’re not lobbying for censorship – even though we don’t agree with everything that happens in public schools not all of us are ready to pull our kids out to home school or Christian School – even though we’re not completely happy with the culture in which we live we’re not fighting for a wall to be built to keep outside influences out.
For a long time the nation of Israel was different – literally building up a wall between themselves and the outside world. A part of that wall was uncovered this week by archeologists in Jerusalem – part of a wall built by King Solomon, who also built the Temple – the Temple that was rebuilt by Herod whose son is here plotting to kill Jesus.
While Herod did rebuild the Temple, he wasn’t able to rebuild the wall – in fact, the wall came down and Herod, rather than fight against the Romans who occupied his kingdom, bowed to them and became their puppet – maintaining his title while losing all his power; keeping the Temple intact while ensuring that the priests prayed for the Emperor; holding tight to the law and his culture in one hand while adopting the ways of Rome with the other.
I think this is something we all believe is possible – that we can be simultaneously Christian and American, that we can follow our faith without being too odd, that we can be a friend to Jesus without losing out place in Herod’s court.
Jesus seems to know that they have a foot in each camp and so can go between the two with his message – “go tell that fox” he says to them, knowing that if they could overhear Herod’s plot to kill him than they must have been close, though they may not have completely pledged themselves to Herod’s service, leaking this secret plot.
They couldn’t just up and follow Jesus you see – they had kids to feed, they couldn’t make the Empire mad or they might lose their influence, and they couldn’t make this puppet king angry or they might well lose their lives.
Normal enough I’d say – and you wouldn’t think they’d lose themselves in the process. They weren’t doing anything wrong – bowing to Herod, helping out Jesus a little on the side.
I tend to think this way of life is possible – that I can watch TV without falling victim to its hedonism – that I’m not really that affected by advertising – that I can watch shows about sin and vice without falling prey to sin and vice.
But this is a dangerous game to play.
Like fire – it’s fine as long as it stays in the fireplace – you can cook with it, stay warm by it – but give it an inch and your house is burning.
Like love that you think you can keep at bay and next thing you know you’re doing things you never thought you’d do, saying things you thought you’d never say.
We think we can control that fox, bow to him Monday through Friday while maintaining our true allegiance to Christ – until one day we’re asked to choose sides.
“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!”
Herod is a fox – and if you think you can serve two masters, if you think you can handle it all, you better be careful because given the chance Herod will eat you, take everything, and leave you empty.
Like the Pharisees before us we must navigate through two competing worlds – we choose to follow Christ to the cross while watching Olympians journey towards gold, American Idols journey towards fame, and our friends who are willing to compromise their values journey towards success, wealth and influence.
But don’t you see – the fox is in the hen house – and the fox is not in this for your salvation.
The fox is in the hen house – as the great evangelist of television preaches the gospel of pleasure through products and beauty as the great defining sign of worth.
The fox is in the hen house – as the news assaults us with a continual worry, fear for who is out there, and painting opponents as idiots and liars.
The fox is in the hen house – telling us working 60 hours a week will pay off in time, but when the budget gets tight the fox will lay you off and wish you good luck.
The fox is in the hen house – and if you think it isn’t real look where the path led the Pharisees – their house was left desolate as the Rome they had compromised with destroyed their Temple just a few years after Christ’s death.
We are in a difficult position – like the Pharisees we must, on occasion, bow to the fox – as there is money to be made, children to feed, and we don’t want to look too strange or we’ll lose all our friends – but do not be fooled – the fox is not worthy of our faith though the fox would like us to believe otherwise.
As people of faith in a culture of fear, we must be about calling the fox a fox, talking about truth in a world of misstatements, talking about what love really is in a world of pleasure and pleasing, prioritizing our lives by what really matters
We must be wise, we must speak out, we must because if we don’t the fox will do it for us and lead our children down the path to destruction.
While the fox may be more attractive, on TV, and ready to offer you quick fixes and easy gain, only the mother hen will lay down her life for her chicks.
The fox is in the hen house, and only Christ has laid down his life for you.
-Amen.
At that time some Pharisees came to Jesus and said to him, “Leave this place and go somewhere else. Herod wants to kill you.”
He replied, “Go tell that fox, ‘I will drive out demons and heal people today and tomorrow, and on the third day I must reach my goal.’ In any case, I must keep going today and tomorrow and the next day – for surely no prophet can die outside Jerusalem!
“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!
Look, your house is left to you desolate.
I tell you, you will not see me again until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’”
Sermon
Folks who have never been to Good Shepherd will sometimes ask me what this church is like – is Good Shepherd conservative, liberal, or moderate; what kind of people attend; where will Good Shepherd be in 15 years?
It’s hard to answer questions like these, as they are questions about a group of people, made up of individuals who may have differing opinions – so what I usually say is something like – there is a person at Good Shepherd Presbyterian Church who felt so led as to donate her complete pay check from the last two weeks to the church in the hopes that this church would use her money to make a difference to someone.
There is a person here at Good Shepherd who was worried about the state of my dress shoes and so he took them all home and polished them – now, as you can see, they look good as new.
There is a person here who had a dream about helping organize the Small Groups at this church, and the next day she wrote me an email to volunteer, just a few hours after I had lunch with a couple telling them that I sure do wish there was something I could do to help them get into a small group but I just don’t have the time.
Good Shepherd is a church full of faithful people – some who are conservative, some who are liberal, some who love to hunt, some who are petrified of firearms, some who struggle to be faithful, some who hear God’s voice as clear as a bell.
So you see – it’s hard to tie down any group of people – we’re individuals – we’re different – but that doesn’t stop us from reaching certain conclusions – about churches - about race – about class – about age. And so the first verse of our gospel lesson is surprising – “some Pharisees came to Jesus and said to him, “Leave this place and go somewhere else. Herod wants to kill you.”
I thought all Pharisees were bad – but remember Nicodeemus, that faithful man of the law who came to Jesus three times in the Gospel of John, going so far as the assist Joseph of Aramethia in preparing Jesus’ body of burial.
Then there’s the Apostle Paul who completely turns away from his life as a Pharisee to follow Jesus, even to death.
On the one hand you have these two, Nicodemus and Paul, on the other you have those Pharisees who conspired to have Jesus killed – and in the middle maybe you have this group who didn’t want Herod to kill him, but weren’t ready to leave everything to follow him either.
In Bible study this past week Paul McDonald said, you might say they were hedging their bets – if he’s the Christ than they’ve done him a favor, if he’s not than no one has to know we tried to help him.
In some ways that is where I think most of us are – we’re happy to be Christian, as long as being Christian doesn’t ask us to do anything that might get us in trouble – we’re happy to follow Jesus, wear a cross around our neck, maybe even invite a friend to church – and even though we don’t agree with everything on TV we’re not lobbying for censorship – even though we don’t agree with everything that happens in public schools not all of us are ready to pull our kids out to home school or Christian School – even though we’re not completely happy with the culture in which we live we’re not fighting for a wall to be built to keep outside influences out.
For a long time the nation of Israel was different – literally building up a wall between themselves and the outside world. A part of that wall was uncovered this week by archeologists in Jerusalem – part of a wall built by King Solomon, who also built the Temple – the Temple that was rebuilt by Herod whose son is here plotting to kill Jesus.
While Herod did rebuild the Temple, he wasn’t able to rebuild the wall – in fact, the wall came down and Herod, rather than fight against the Romans who occupied his kingdom, bowed to them and became their puppet – maintaining his title while losing all his power; keeping the Temple intact while ensuring that the priests prayed for the Emperor; holding tight to the law and his culture in one hand while adopting the ways of Rome with the other.
I think this is something we all believe is possible – that we can be simultaneously Christian and American, that we can follow our faith without being too odd, that we can be a friend to Jesus without losing out place in Herod’s court.
Jesus seems to know that they have a foot in each camp and so can go between the two with his message – “go tell that fox” he says to them, knowing that if they could overhear Herod’s plot to kill him than they must have been close, though they may not have completely pledged themselves to Herod’s service, leaking this secret plot.
They couldn’t just up and follow Jesus you see – they had kids to feed, they couldn’t make the Empire mad or they might lose their influence, and they couldn’t make this puppet king angry or they might well lose their lives.
Normal enough I’d say – and you wouldn’t think they’d lose themselves in the process. They weren’t doing anything wrong – bowing to Herod, helping out Jesus a little on the side.
I tend to think this way of life is possible – that I can watch TV without falling victim to its hedonism – that I’m not really that affected by advertising – that I can watch shows about sin and vice without falling prey to sin and vice.
But this is a dangerous game to play.
Like fire – it’s fine as long as it stays in the fireplace – you can cook with it, stay warm by it – but give it an inch and your house is burning.
Like love that you think you can keep at bay and next thing you know you’re doing things you never thought you’d do, saying things you thought you’d never say.
We think we can control that fox, bow to him Monday through Friday while maintaining our true allegiance to Christ – until one day we’re asked to choose sides.
“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!”
Herod is a fox – and if you think you can serve two masters, if you think you can handle it all, you better be careful because given the chance Herod will eat you, take everything, and leave you empty.
Like the Pharisees before us we must navigate through two competing worlds – we choose to follow Christ to the cross while watching Olympians journey towards gold, American Idols journey towards fame, and our friends who are willing to compromise their values journey towards success, wealth and influence.
But don’t you see – the fox is in the hen house – and the fox is not in this for your salvation.
The fox is in the hen house – as the great evangelist of television preaches the gospel of pleasure through products and beauty as the great defining sign of worth.
The fox is in the hen house – as the news assaults us with a continual worry, fear for who is out there, and painting opponents as idiots and liars.
The fox is in the hen house – telling us working 60 hours a week will pay off in time, but when the budget gets tight the fox will lay you off and wish you good luck.
The fox is in the hen house – and if you think it isn’t real look where the path led the Pharisees – their house was left desolate as the Rome they had compromised with destroyed their Temple just a few years after Christ’s death.
We are in a difficult position – like the Pharisees we must, on occasion, bow to the fox – as there is money to be made, children to feed, and we don’t want to look too strange or we’ll lose all our friends – but do not be fooled – the fox is not worthy of our faith though the fox would like us to believe otherwise.
As people of faith in a culture of fear, we must be about calling the fox a fox, talking about truth in a world of misstatements, talking about what love really is in a world of pleasure and pleasing, prioritizing our lives by what really matters
We must be wise, we must speak out, we must because if we don’t the fox will do it for us and lead our children down the path to destruction.
While the fox may be more attractive, on TV, and ready to offer you quick fixes and easy gain, only the mother hen will lay down her life for her chicks.
The fox is in the hen house, and only Christ has laid down his life for you.
-Amen.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
They Came Down from the Mountain
Luke 9: 28-45, page 733
About eight days after Jesus said this, he took Peter, John and James with him and went up onto a mountain to pray. As he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightning. Two men, Moses and Elijah, appeared in glorious splendor, talking with Jesus.
They spoke about his departure, which he was about to bring to fulfillment at Jerusalem. Peter and his companions were very sleepy, but when they became fully awake, they saw his glory and the two men standing with him. As the men were leaving Jesus, Peter said to him, “Master, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters – one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.” (He did not know what he was saying.)
While he was speaking, a cloud appeared and enveloped them, and they were afraid as they entered the cloud. A voice came from the cloud, saying, “This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to him.” When the voice had spoken, they found that Jesus was alone.
The disciples kept this to themselves, and told no one at that time what they had seen.
The next day, when they came down from the mountain, a large crowd met him. A man in the crowd called out, “Teacher, I beg you to look at my son, for he is my only child. A spirit seizes him and he suddenly screams; it throws him into convulsions so that he foams at the mouth. It scarcely ever leaves him and is destroying him. I begged your disciples to drive it out, but they could not.”
“O unbelieving and perverse generation,” Jesus replied, “how long shall I stay with you and put up with you? Bring your son here.”
Even while the boy was coming, the demon threw him to the ground in a convulsion. But Jesus rebuked the evil spirit, healed the boy and gave him back to his father. And they were all amazed at the greatness of God.
While everyone was marveling at all that Jesus did, he said to his disciples, “Listen carefully to what I am about to tell you: the son of Man is going to be betrayed into the hands of men.” But they did not understand what this meant. It was hidden from them, so that they did not grasp it, and they were afraid to ask him about it.
Sermon
As you may know already, there is a Thursday morning, Wednesday evening study going on right now, that about 50 people are participating in called Experiencing God.
Last Wednesday evening our group was watching the video for the week, and each week’s segment ends with someone’s testimony. This past week the testimony began with a woman who said she had never heard God speak directly to her. She was worried about that so she called her father who told her not to worry, as only ministers and important people get to talk to God.
I think that idea is important for my daughter Lily and my wife Sara to think about, as it’s easy to trust God’s word to ministers and important people if you don’t know one personally, but if you share a bathroom with a minister it’s easy to get worried about who it is that’s entrusted with hearing God’s voice.
The truth is that we all are given equal access to God, that we all have the same honor of listening and hearing God’s voice, opening our eyes and seeing God’s plan unfold, reaching out our hands and doing God’s work, but most of the time we like to leave all that up to those whom we believe to be more holy and more worthy.
I am every bit the same way, and find it easy to relate to the disciples who, though given the power to cast out demons at the beginning of our chapter, found themselves unable to do so after coming down from the mountain where they had seen Jesus standing with Moses and Elijah, clothes so bright they appeared like lightening.
Like the disciples, so aware of their humanity at the sight of Jesus’ divinity, so convinced of their inability compared to the height of Jesus’ nobility, I grew up with a pastor so wise, kind, and good that I knew I would never be able to be like him, and though I felt the call to ministry, if ministry was being like Dr. Jim Speed I knew I would never be able to cut it.
I had it in my mind that if this pastor of my childhood were to walk up to a lake and spread his arms as Moses did to the sea than surely the waters would part and he would be able to walk through on dry ground.
And so I decided that I would just do something else with my life, though I dreamed of preaching.
I imagine that is what the disciples were feeling – that though they had been called by God, given the authority and power to drive out demons, cure diseases and to preach the kingdom of God and heal the sick, that considering Christ’s transfiguration they began to say among themselves, “he’s a whole lot more holy than we are, he was just standing there with Moses and Elijah. If we can’t heal this father’s son than we can just wait for him, he should be down from the mountain any minute now.”
Though they tried, as the child’s father tells us they tried, they apparently tried reluctantly, “I begged your disciples to drive it out, but they could not.”
What happens next is a little surprising – you would think that Jesus would do what we all imagine Jesus would – he’d come down from the mountain, maybe not with a big grin on his face, but certainly with the look of peace about him. Then he’d talk with the disciples who weren’t able to heal this boy, say something that your Mom would say after you just missed the shot that would have won the game, “I know you gave it your all and that makes you a winner in my eyes,” then he’d first give this father a firm hand on the shoulder that would communicate how Jesus understands the severity of the situation, but also that he’s here now and everything is going to be alright.
Then and only then Jesus would kneel down next to the boy, look at him with love in his eyes, and cast out the evil spirit.
If I weren’t actually reading this story, that’s what I’d expect to happen.
But instead Christ, seemingly un-Christ like, addresses not only the father, his disciples, and the crowd, but the entire generation of which they are apart – “O unbelieving and perverse generation, how long shall I stay with you and put up with you?”
This is the kind of instance that we just have to sit with and ponder over, the kind of thing that really makes you wonder who this Jesus is; it’s the kind of revelation that almost makes you wish Martin Luther had just left the Bible in Latin so we didn’t have to read the real thing and understand it, and our understanding of who Jesus is and what Jesus does could be based on something more comfortable like those pictures of Jesus as a sweet little baby you see in children’s books.
This picture here of Jesus is disarming, and maybe even a little scary.
And it takes something to weather this kind of shock.
I mentioned before one of the ministers who influenced me growing up, but there was another. This other minister took over just after Dr. Speed retired, and I don’t know if he ever wrote a sermon himself, but at some point or another it came to light that most of his sermons came straight off the internet.
By the time I found out I knew plagiarism was bad, but this was a lot worse.
And it shook my faith. I thought ministers were better than that, more holy and more important than the rest of us, that they lived by a higher standard, a code of conduct worthy of their calling.
All these years I thought ministers were so much more holy than I was, and then one day here’s one’s imperfection made public for everyone to see.
It wasn’t long after all this happened that I applied to seminary, and now it’s hard for me to say which pastor of my childhood was more influential – the one who was so good he convinced me that I could never measure up, or the one who was so bad, so human, I knew I could do better.
What I am sure of is that Jesus intends for us to do the work he came to earth to do, but so often we are reluctant thinking that the work of God is better left to the holy, the important.
When the disciples were tempted to believe the same thing Jesus came down from the mountain of transfiguration to accost not only a crowd, but a whole generation, and in losing his temper he showed the disciples that doing the work of God does not require an audience with Moses and Elijah up on a mountain top, as the work of God is to be done by people – the kind who lose their temper, the kind of fail, the kind who worry that they aren’t holy or important enough.
Ministry is too often left to the ministers, and too many ministers would lead you to believe that it truly does take a dash of holiness to do the work of God – but Jesus who knew he would be leaving soon, making his way to Jerusalem and the cross, entrusted his work to you.
Hear this call, and trust that by the grace of God all things are possible, through you.
Amen.
About eight days after Jesus said this, he took Peter, John and James with him and went up onto a mountain to pray. As he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightning. Two men, Moses and Elijah, appeared in glorious splendor, talking with Jesus.
They spoke about his departure, which he was about to bring to fulfillment at Jerusalem. Peter and his companions were very sleepy, but when they became fully awake, they saw his glory and the two men standing with him. As the men were leaving Jesus, Peter said to him, “Master, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters – one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.” (He did not know what he was saying.)
While he was speaking, a cloud appeared and enveloped them, and they were afraid as they entered the cloud. A voice came from the cloud, saying, “This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to him.” When the voice had spoken, they found that Jesus was alone.
The disciples kept this to themselves, and told no one at that time what they had seen.
The next day, when they came down from the mountain, a large crowd met him. A man in the crowd called out, “Teacher, I beg you to look at my son, for he is my only child. A spirit seizes him and he suddenly screams; it throws him into convulsions so that he foams at the mouth. It scarcely ever leaves him and is destroying him. I begged your disciples to drive it out, but they could not.”
“O unbelieving and perverse generation,” Jesus replied, “how long shall I stay with you and put up with you? Bring your son here.”
Even while the boy was coming, the demon threw him to the ground in a convulsion. But Jesus rebuked the evil spirit, healed the boy and gave him back to his father. And they were all amazed at the greatness of God.
While everyone was marveling at all that Jesus did, he said to his disciples, “Listen carefully to what I am about to tell you: the son of Man is going to be betrayed into the hands of men.” But they did not understand what this meant. It was hidden from them, so that they did not grasp it, and they were afraid to ask him about it.
Sermon
As you may know already, there is a Thursday morning, Wednesday evening study going on right now, that about 50 people are participating in called Experiencing God.
Last Wednesday evening our group was watching the video for the week, and each week’s segment ends with someone’s testimony. This past week the testimony began with a woman who said she had never heard God speak directly to her. She was worried about that so she called her father who told her not to worry, as only ministers and important people get to talk to God.
I think that idea is important for my daughter Lily and my wife Sara to think about, as it’s easy to trust God’s word to ministers and important people if you don’t know one personally, but if you share a bathroom with a minister it’s easy to get worried about who it is that’s entrusted with hearing God’s voice.
The truth is that we all are given equal access to God, that we all have the same honor of listening and hearing God’s voice, opening our eyes and seeing God’s plan unfold, reaching out our hands and doing God’s work, but most of the time we like to leave all that up to those whom we believe to be more holy and more worthy.
I am every bit the same way, and find it easy to relate to the disciples who, though given the power to cast out demons at the beginning of our chapter, found themselves unable to do so after coming down from the mountain where they had seen Jesus standing with Moses and Elijah, clothes so bright they appeared like lightening.
Like the disciples, so aware of their humanity at the sight of Jesus’ divinity, so convinced of their inability compared to the height of Jesus’ nobility, I grew up with a pastor so wise, kind, and good that I knew I would never be able to be like him, and though I felt the call to ministry, if ministry was being like Dr. Jim Speed I knew I would never be able to cut it.
I had it in my mind that if this pastor of my childhood were to walk up to a lake and spread his arms as Moses did to the sea than surely the waters would part and he would be able to walk through on dry ground.
And so I decided that I would just do something else with my life, though I dreamed of preaching.
I imagine that is what the disciples were feeling – that though they had been called by God, given the authority and power to drive out demons, cure diseases and to preach the kingdom of God and heal the sick, that considering Christ’s transfiguration they began to say among themselves, “he’s a whole lot more holy than we are, he was just standing there with Moses and Elijah. If we can’t heal this father’s son than we can just wait for him, he should be down from the mountain any minute now.”
Though they tried, as the child’s father tells us they tried, they apparently tried reluctantly, “I begged your disciples to drive it out, but they could not.”
What happens next is a little surprising – you would think that Jesus would do what we all imagine Jesus would – he’d come down from the mountain, maybe not with a big grin on his face, but certainly with the look of peace about him. Then he’d talk with the disciples who weren’t able to heal this boy, say something that your Mom would say after you just missed the shot that would have won the game, “I know you gave it your all and that makes you a winner in my eyes,” then he’d first give this father a firm hand on the shoulder that would communicate how Jesus understands the severity of the situation, but also that he’s here now and everything is going to be alright.
Then and only then Jesus would kneel down next to the boy, look at him with love in his eyes, and cast out the evil spirit.
If I weren’t actually reading this story, that’s what I’d expect to happen.
But instead Christ, seemingly un-Christ like, addresses not only the father, his disciples, and the crowd, but the entire generation of which they are apart – “O unbelieving and perverse generation, how long shall I stay with you and put up with you?”
This is the kind of instance that we just have to sit with and ponder over, the kind of thing that really makes you wonder who this Jesus is; it’s the kind of revelation that almost makes you wish Martin Luther had just left the Bible in Latin so we didn’t have to read the real thing and understand it, and our understanding of who Jesus is and what Jesus does could be based on something more comfortable like those pictures of Jesus as a sweet little baby you see in children’s books.
This picture here of Jesus is disarming, and maybe even a little scary.
And it takes something to weather this kind of shock.
I mentioned before one of the ministers who influenced me growing up, but there was another. This other minister took over just after Dr. Speed retired, and I don’t know if he ever wrote a sermon himself, but at some point or another it came to light that most of his sermons came straight off the internet.
By the time I found out I knew plagiarism was bad, but this was a lot worse.
And it shook my faith. I thought ministers were better than that, more holy and more important than the rest of us, that they lived by a higher standard, a code of conduct worthy of their calling.
All these years I thought ministers were so much more holy than I was, and then one day here’s one’s imperfection made public for everyone to see.
It wasn’t long after all this happened that I applied to seminary, and now it’s hard for me to say which pastor of my childhood was more influential – the one who was so good he convinced me that I could never measure up, or the one who was so bad, so human, I knew I could do better.
What I am sure of is that Jesus intends for us to do the work he came to earth to do, but so often we are reluctant thinking that the work of God is better left to the holy, the important.
When the disciples were tempted to believe the same thing Jesus came down from the mountain of transfiguration to accost not only a crowd, but a whole generation, and in losing his temper he showed the disciples that doing the work of God does not require an audience with Moses and Elijah up on a mountain top, as the work of God is to be done by people – the kind who lose their temper, the kind of fail, the kind who worry that they aren’t holy or important enough.
Ministry is too often left to the ministers, and too many ministers would lead you to believe that it truly does take a dash of holiness to do the work of God – but Jesus who knew he would be leaving soon, making his way to Jerusalem and the cross, entrusted his work to you.
Hear this call, and trust that by the grace of God all things are possible, through you.
Amen.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Let Down the Nets
Luke 5: 1-11, page 728
One day as Jesus was standing by the Lake of Gennesaret, with the people crowding around him and listening to the word of God, he saw at the water’s edge two boats, left there by the fishermen, who were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little from shore. Then he sat down and taught the people from the boat.
When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.”
Simon answered, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”
When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break. So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them, and they came and filled both boats so full that they began to sink.
When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus’ knees and said, “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!” For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon’s partners.
Then Jesus said to Simon, “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will catch people.” So they pulled their boats up on the shore, left everything and followed him.
Sermon
Telling a grandmother you’re not hungry when she thinks you need to eat is the definition of a pointless exercise. Any protest, “I don’t have time, I’ve already eaten, I’m a vegetarian,” can’t stop her once she’s made up her mind that you are too skinny, and it is better just to sit down for a while and start eating.
My own grandmother has been buying my sister Elizabeth poppy seed muffins from Sam’s for years. Every time my sister goes for a visit she eats these muffins bought especially for her, even though she hate’s them.
Neither of us can figure out how my grandmother got the idea that my sister loves poppy seed muffins, but when it comes to grandmothers or really anyone we love, we’ll all sometimes do things that we wouldn’t normally do, go along for the ride against our better judgment, eat muffins whether we like them or not.
So Simon, soon to be renamed Peter, goes along with Jesus even though he knows no fish will be caught. Like a grandmother who wants to feed you, sometimes it’s better to sit down and eat than try to explain the intricacies of fishing to someone who doesn’t want to hear your excuses. Simon just swallows down his grumblings, what comes out is polite, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything,” and don’t you know that if he didn’t love Jesus already he could have said all kinds of things - that we’re tiered and ready to go home as we’ve already fished all night, that trying to catch anything now is pointless as fish don’t school at this time of day, or “why don’t you trust me Jesus, I’m a fisherman, what can the son of a carpenter possibly know about fishing?”
We’ll always give it one more shot, even against our better judgment for the ones we love, so Simon Peter, though he already knew what would happen, says to Jesus, this man who had just raised his mother-in-law from the dead, “But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”
It may be easy enough for you to relate and find where you stand in this passage of scripture already. In one sense it isn’t profoundly faithful to go along reluctantly, but sometimes faith is just that – common sense tells you nothing’s going to happen, “But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”
Maybe you’ve sent out a million resumes already, and common sense has convinced you that it’s not worth it to face rejection on more time. The ones who love you can’t understand why you won’t but to you, one more letter of “we have received countless impressive résumés, but at this time we have decided to go with someone else” could break something that has been broken too many times already. In times like these faith can be as simple as, “I already know the answer will be no, but because you say so, I will try again.”
When people let you down, break your heart more often than any heart should be broken, common sense might say it’s time to get used to being alone – it hurts less than rejection after all – but when a dinner invitation comes, even though experience tells you how it’s going to end even before it begins, faith can be as simple as willingness to go anyway.
Simon, despite his better judgment goes along with Jesus – out to the deep water – prepared for nothing to happen, but just to be polite pretends not to already be disappointed, and lets down the nets.
The result of his mustard seed size faith is a mountain of fish, so many fish that the boat starts to sink.
And all at once Simon realizes what is going on here, who this Jesus is, and he is met face to face with the cruel realization of who he is. “Go away from me Lord; I am a sinful man!”
In some ways his reaction is surprising, you would think he would be happy, but like the prophet Isaiah, holiness so close shines like a bright light in a room built for interrogation. There’s nowhere to hide, there’s no secret you’ll be able to keep, and only condemnation can result if you believe yourself to be deserving of condemnation.
I think it’s a sad coincidence that the only two places left that still use pews are churches and courtrooms, making judgment maybe a subconscious theme of religious intuitions.
I know no one did it intentionally, but religious bodies often tend towards a self-righteousness that makes those outside their doors seem a little reluctant about how they might be received if they go in.
There’s a reason Jesus goes out to the seashore then. He had a message to bring, and it wasn’t just for the folks in the synagogue, it was for the folks who felt like they were too poor, too unclean, and too sinful to go where all the holy people go.
What developed in ancient Israel were an inside and an outside, a dichotomy of holy and sinful, a problem that came to the forefront in this country on buses where there was a front and a back.
Tiered of this kind of segregated society, African Americans organized a strike.
What we know is that throughout history societies have made it convenient for some to see themselves as better than others. Out of a desire for cleanliness, to preserve their lives, the religious in ancient Israel called crustaceans impure. Not meaning to, I assume, the bad thing is that the folks who handled those crustaceans on a daily basis sitting out on the shore cleaning their nets started to think of themselves as impure too.
It should be no surprise then Simon’s reaction to Jesus – what would a holy man be doing with a man who handled impure things, who had begun thinking that he himself were impure as well.
“Go away from me Lord; I am a sinful man!”
But again, Jesus, like a grandmother dead set on filling up an empty stomach, refuses to give up on a fisherman, refuses to see what society, what the synagogue, called unclean given his proximity to shellfish, refuses to relent his pride in this man un-successful in the eyes of the crowd given his lack of fish, refuses to give up believing in the value of this son un-worthy in the eyes of himself.
Where Simon had virtually given up, was washing his nets, ready to pack them up for the day, all that was left, a willingness to give it one more try, not because he thought it would work, but because Jesus who he loved asked him to; where Simon had given up not only on his catch of fish, but his worth in the eyes of God, having been beyond the teachers realm of influence, this teacher, this healer, this Jesus goes out to find him, not only to help him fish, but to help him see himself again.
So here we are.
Our failures have convinced us that it’s not worth trying again.
And we, ourselves, must be convinced that we are not the cast away-es of society, but are worthy of our value in the eyes of God.
So you must let down your nets if you don’t believe it, and see what God has in store.
Let down your nets and see that the God of all grace is not a cruel judge, but a grandmother who wants to fill you up, wants you to believe in yourself again.
Let down your nets in a world so secularized, so convinced that the only things of value are wealth, youth and beauty. Let down your nets in a world filled with men and women who are convinced that some are more important that others and that God would rather not have anything to do with them.
Let down your nets, if for no other reason than to prove wrong everyone who has ever doubted your worth. Because let me tell you something. No matter what anyone says, God wants to have something to do with you. Let down your nets and see.
-Amen.
One day as Jesus was standing by the Lake of Gennesaret, with the people crowding around him and listening to the word of God, he saw at the water’s edge two boats, left there by the fishermen, who were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little from shore. Then he sat down and taught the people from the boat.
When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.”
Simon answered, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”
When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break. So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them, and they came and filled both boats so full that they began to sink.
When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus’ knees and said, “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!” For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon’s partners.
Then Jesus said to Simon, “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will catch people.” So they pulled their boats up on the shore, left everything and followed him.
Sermon
Telling a grandmother you’re not hungry when she thinks you need to eat is the definition of a pointless exercise. Any protest, “I don’t have time, I’ve already eaten, I’m a vegetarian,” can’t stop her once she’s made up her mind that you are too skinny, and it is better just to sit down for a while and start eating.
My own grandmother has been buying my sister Elizabeth poppy seed muffins from Sam’s for years. Every time my sister goes for a visit she eats these muffins bought especially for her, even though she hate’s them.
Neither of us can figure out how my grandmother got the idea that my sister loves poppy seed muffins, but when it comes to grandmothers or really anyone we love, we’ll all sometimes do things that we wouldn’t normally do, go along for the ride against our better judgment, eat muffins whether we like them or not.
So Simon, soon to be renamed Peter, goes along with Jesus even though he knows no fish will be caught. Like a grandmother who wants to feed you, sometimes it’s better to sit down and eat than try to explain the intricacies of fishing to someone who doesn’t want to hear your excuses. Simon just swallows down his grumblings, what comes out is polite, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything,” and don’t you know that if he didn’t love Jesus already he could have said all kinds of things - that we’re tiered and ready to go home as we’ve already fished all night, that trying to catch anything now is pointless as fish don’t school at this time of day, or “why don’t you trust me Jesus, I’m a fisherman, what can the son of a carpenter possibly know about fishing?”
We’ll always give it one more shot, even against our better judgment for the ones we love, so Simon Peter, though he already knew what would happen, says to Jesus, this man who had just raised his mother-in-law from the dead, “But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”
It may be easy enough for you to relate and find where you stand in this passage of scripture already. In one sense it isn’t profoundly faithful to go along reluctantly, but sometimes faith is just that – common sense tells you nothing’s going to happen, “But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”
Maybe you’ve sent out a million resumes already, and common sense has convinced you that it’s not worth it to face rejection on more time. The ones who love you can’t understand why you won’t but to you, one more letter of “we have received countless impressive résumés, but at this time we have decided to go with someone else” could break something that has been broken too many times already. In times like these faith can be as simple as, “I already know the answer will be no, but because you say so, I will try again.”
When people let you down, break your heart more often than any heart should be broken, common sense might say it’s time to get used to being alone – it hurts less than rejection after all – but when a dinner invitation comes, even though experience tells you how it’s going to end even before it begins, faith can be as simple as willingness to go anyway.
Simon, despite his better judgment goes along with Jesus – out to the deep water – prepared for nothing to happen, but just to be polite pretends not to already be disappointed, and lets down the nets.
The result of his mustard seed size faith is a mountain of fish, so many fish that the boat starts to sink.
And all at once Simon realizes what is going on here, who this Jesus is, and he is met face to face with the cruel realization of who he is. “Go away from me Lord; I am a sinful man!”
In some ways his reaction is surprising, you would think he would be happy, but like the prophet Isaiah, holiness so close shines like a bright light in a room built for interrogation. There’s nowhere to hide, there’s no secret you’ll be able to keep, and only condemnation can result if you believe yourself to be deserving of condemnation.
I think it’s a sad coincidence that the only two places left that still use pews are churches and courtrooms, making judgment maybe a subconscious theme of religious intuitions.
I know no one did it intentionally, but religious bodies often tend towards a self-righteousness that makes those outside their doors seem a little reluctant about how they might be received if they go in.
There’s a reason Jesus goes out to the seashore then. He had a message to bring, and it wasn’t just for the folks in the synagogue, it was for the folks who felt like they were too poor, too unclean, and too sinful to go where all the holy people go.
What developed in ancient Israel were an inside and an outside, a dichotomy of holy and sinful, a problem that came to the forefront in this country on buses where there was a front and a back.
Tiered of this kind of segregated society, African Americans organized a strike.
What we know is that throughout history societies have made it convenient for some to see themselves as better than others. Out of a desire for cleanliness, to preserve their lives, the religious in ancient Israel called crustaceans impure. Not meaning to, I assume, the bad thing is that the folks who handled those crustaceans on a daily basis sitting out on the shore cleaning their nets started to think of themselves as impure too.
It should be no surprise then Simon’s reaction to Jesus – what would a holy man be doing with a man who handled impure things, who had begun thinking that he himself were impure as well.
“Go away from me Lord; I am a sinful man!”
But again, Jesus, like a grandmother dead set on filling up an empty stomach, refuses to give up on a fisherman, refuses to see what society, what the synagogue, called unclean given his proximity to shellfish, refuses to relent his pride in this man un-successful in the eyes of the crowd given his lack of fish, refuses to give up believing in the value of this son un-worthy in the eyes of himself.
Where Simon had virtually given up, was washing his nets, ready to pack them up for the day, all that was left, a willingness to give it one more try, not because he thought it would work, but because Jesus who he loved asked him to; where Simon had given up not only on his catch of fish, but his worth in the eyes of God, having been beyond the teachers realm of influence, this teacher, this healer, this Jesus goes out to find him, not only to help him fish, but to help him see himself again.
So here we are.
Our failures have convinced us that it’s not worth trying again.
And we, ourselves, must be convinced that we are not the cast away-es of society, but are worthy of our value in the eyes of God.
So you must let down your nets if you don’t believe it, and see what God has in store.
Let down your nets and see that the God of all grace is not a cruel judge, but a grandmother who wants to fill you up, wants you to believe in yourself again.
Let down your nets in a world so secularized, so convinced that the only things of value are wealth, youth and beauty. Let down your nets in a world filled with men and women who are convinced that some are more important that others and that God would rather not have anything to do with them.
Let down your nets, if for no other reason than to prove wrong everyone who has ever doubted your worth. Because let me tell you something. No matter what anyone says, God wants to have something to do with you. Let down your nets and see.
-Amen.
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