Isaiah 55:10-13
10For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, 11so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and succeed in the thing for which I sent it. 12For you shall go out in joy, and be led back in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. 13Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress; instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle; and it shall be to the LORD for a memorial, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.
Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23
1That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat beside the sea. 2Such great crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat there, while the whole crowd stood on the beach. 3And he told them many things in parables, saying: “Listen! A sower went out to sow. 4And as he sowed, some seeds fell on the path, and the birds came and ate them up. 5Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and they sprang up quickly, since they had no depth of soil. 6But when the sun rose, they were scorched; and since they had no root, they withered away. 7Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. 8Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. 9Let anyone with ears listen!”
18“Hear then the parable of the sower. 19When anyone hears the word of the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what is sown in the heart; this is what was sown on the path. 20As for what was sown on rocky ground, this is the one who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; 21yet such a person has no root, but endures only for a while, and when trouble or persecution arises on account of the word, that person immediately falls away. 22As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the lure of wealth choke the word, and it yields nothing. 23But as for what was sown on good soil, this is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and yields, in one case a hundredfold, in another sixty, and in another thirty.”
The Parable of the Sower
Parables are a mystery: they have a twist, a surprise in them. They are like a joke with an unexpected punch-line, which is what makes it funny. And parables use ordinary things, out of everyday lives, to talk about the surprises of God’s kingdom.
Listen: a sower went out to sow. And he sows the seed all over the place willy-nilly, apparently. That’s our first surprise. There doesn’t seem to be much planning, much plotting. In first century Palestine, farmers would scatter the seed first, and then plow the thin soil over it later. So it makes sense that some of the seed would land on rocks, perhaps, or in thorns.
But this doesn’t seem to be a very smart or, at least fortunate, farmer. Most of the seed lands on inhospitable places: some on a well worn path, some on rocky soil, some among the thorns. And that seed fails to thrive – pretty much a total loss. Only a portion falls on good soil. So, in the story, only one out of the four places where the sees lands is any good. Not a very good average. Not a very smart business plan.
In fact, to our ears, the farmer seems wasteful. Seed is expensive, it takes a great deal of effort to plant, and till, and harvest, and even in the best of years farming is risky. So wouldn’t the wise farmer, the prudent farmer, do a better job of sowing seed where there would be a better chance of a good harvest? Even in first century Palestine, surely, the farmer could have been a little more careful with the seed.
Ah- but this is not the Parable of the Wise Farmer. It is not the Parable of the Farmer who planned well. Sometimes this is called the Parable of the Soils.
And that is where we usually enter into this story. Because, in all stories, whether from our childhood, or the books we read, or the stories we see on television, we want to feel connected to the story. Especially in parables, we ask ourselves, “Where am I in this story?”
And this parable is usually told, and preached, and understood, this way: “Which kind of soil are we?” Are we rocky soil where faith never even has a chance to take root? Are success and wealth choking out the word of God in our lives? Are the troubles of life burning, scorching our shallow faith?
This parable is preached this way because that is Jesus’ answer when the disciples ask Jesus what the parable means. And all of those are might be true for us, at different times in our lives. We all, I think, have had times when we felt choked by life, or scorched by life, or alone and vulnerable. Times when we have felt God’s mercy and love was absent, that we were dry and parched, so burdened that nothing could grow in us.
Or perhaps this story about soil is a way of understanding our families. Perhaps that’s another surprise, or at least a puzzle: why is it that so many of us have grown up in families, with brothers and sisters, going to church—and some of us stay, and some of us never darken the door again? Why is it that the same lessons were heard, the same Sunday School classes attended, the same hymns sung, and some hear and bloom, and some do not?
Every year, we have Vacation Bible School. And every year, after the songs have been sung, after the ice cream wrappers have been picked up, after the decorations have come down and the floor has been swept, we say, “Oh, if only we could get those children to come back!” And some of us wonder if it is worth it. If it is working: why do so many come for a week in the summer, and we never see them again, until next summer? Why do their parents show up on Friday in the middle of the day, but they do not come the rest of the year? Why do we put so much time and energy and money into something that is only 20 hours a year out of a child’s life? And many, not just in our churches here, but in many churches are asking if now isn’t the time for VBS to be done. Over with. Certainly, in this technology savvy age, in which even the 7 year olds have cell phones to call their mom at the end of the day, in which nearly every child has access to computers, or at least an X-box or Wii, singing songs, making crafts, doing home science experiments, and racing around on the grass outside just aren’t cutting it. This doesn’t seem to be a very good use of resources and time.
Ultimately, though, parables are not about us. They are about God. They are about the mysteries of God, and about God’s mysterious grace.
And that is the third surprise. This story is about God’s Profligate, overflowing, abounding grace. Not grace that is carefully meted out, nor even grace that is carefully planned in strategic ways. It is about grace that is seemingly wasted. It is about grace that overflows like water, overflowing the edges of the bowl, grace that flows down like might waters, grace that goes everywhere- rocky soils, well worn paths, thorny areas—grace that just goes!
“This parable is not about what good soils we are, and how well we understand the divine mysteries. This is about what God is doing in staggering numbers. …If the return is really a hundredfold, then those bumper crops will flood the market. Everyone will have some, including those with hardened hearts.” It will be like zucchini season- when we’ve got so much, we don’t know what to do with it anymore—so much zucchini that we’ve run out of ways to cook it, so much that we are reduced, as Garrison Keillor says, to sneaking over to our neighbors in the middle of the night and leaving them bags of zucchini on their porch- when they already have all that they could ever need as well.
For look- listen! God’s grace is so overflowing that even the bad soil gets the seed. The logical place to sow seed would certainly be on good soil, or at least soil as good as we could make it. And the logical thing to do would be to sow seed more carefully, on soil that would be guaranteed to gives us a good yield- but that’s not what happens in this story.
“This parable is like a joke, like a riddle—hiding as much as it reveals about God. It leaves us scratching our heads about what this really means, and about the world as we know it, and about what God is up to.
And what God is up to, Always, Always, is about grace. This sower is “a high-risk sower, relentless in indiscriminately sowing seed on all soil—as if it were potentially all good soil….Which leaves us to scratch our heads, and wonder if there is any place or circumstance in which God’s seed cannot sprout and take root.”
The surprise is this: God’s grace goes in places that seem guaranteed not to work. Gods grace gets thrown in places and on people that we might think of as hopeless, lost causes. Because for God there are no lost causes. The rain falls on the just and the unjust. Grace is for people who think they don’t deserve it, cannot be good enough, are so broken God couldn’t-ever-love and forgive them. Isaiah reminds us of this: the word of the Lord, the grace of God, shall not return to me empty, God says. But deserts shall rejoice, and bloom. Grace shall fall on dry places, and barren places, and rocky places, and thorn infested places—and people.
Let us who have ears hear. Amen.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Sermon Aug 7 2011
Psalm 145:8-9, 14-21 p. 506
8The LORD is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
9The LORD is good to all, and his compassion is over all that he has made.
14The LORD upholds all who are falling, and raises up all who are bowed down.
15The eyes of all look to you, and you give them their food in due season.
16You open your hand, satisfying the desire of every living thing.
17The LORD is just in all his ways, and kind in all his doings.
18The LORD is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.
19He fulfills the desire of all who fear him; he also hears their cry, and saves them.
20The LORD watches over all who love him, but all the wicked he will destroy.
21My mouth will speak the praise of the LORD, and all flesh will bless his holy name forever and ever.
Matthew 14:13-21 p796
13Now Jesus withdrew in a boat to a deserted place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns.14When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick.15When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.”16Jesus said to them, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.”17They replied, “We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.”18And he said, “Bring them here to me.”19Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds.20And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full.21And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children.
This is the word of the Lord…..thanks be to God
If there was only one story you could tell, what would it be? You know, the kind of story that sums up, in one caption, one illustration, the kind of person a person is? We often tell these stories after someone has died. We heard many stories about Jean this past week. If there was one story we could tell about Jesus Christ, about what God is doing in Jesus Christ, what would we say?
This story, of the feeding of the 5000, is the only story to appear in all of the 4 of the gospels. This story must have meant something deep and wonderful to the early church, a way to explain who Christ was, and what God is like.
I can imagine the disciples telling the story, years after the event: a little embarrassed, perhaps, laughing in that sort of shamefaced way….”well, we were just trying to be practical, you know- it was really late, and the people were a long way from home…and then—and then- Jesus looked at us and said “you give them something to eat…….” And then the smiles began, and perhaps a few tears- “and so, we gave him what we had- which wasn’t much!” and then we took up baskets- large baskets- of leftovers- we started with practically nothing, and there were leftovers- 12 baskets- we each went around and collected what was left over- that’s what I can’t get over- we all ate, and had enough to eat, and there were leftovers after having practically nothing at all!”
What kind of God is God? What kind of Savior is Jesus?
A God who is concerned with us on a bodily level. A God who knows that talk is cheap. That hungry people don’t care about religion—they only want to see that their children get fed.
And a God who calls us to participate in miracles.
Very early in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus is in the wilderness, tempted by Satan. And Satan shows him all the stones lying on the ground—“turn these into bread” Satan says. People will follow you, you will be popular, you will rule the world if you can feed them. It was a strategy that was working for the Roman army—bread! The people may not like the oppressors, but at least there was bread!
But in that wilderness, Jesus resisted, turned down Satan’s offer. He did not want to rule by being a “bread king”. Here, out in this wilderness, Jesus sees the crowd, and has compassion. Why feed them now? Perhaps it is this: he turns to the disciples and says: You give them something to eat.
Yikes. 5 loaves and two fish. Not even enough for 12 disciples, much less 5000 men and their families. And yet, they hand it over to Jesus.
And Jesus looks up to heaven, and blesses the bread, and breaks it, and hands it out. And there is enough. More than enough—an overflowing, abundant more than enough. Enough so there are leftovers- 12 baskets of leftovers. Twelve BIG baskets—and the words there mean a surprising abundance, more than expected, more than just enough.
We have talked recently about being co-laborers with God, co-participants with God’s work in the Kingdom. It is true here- Jesus calls the disciples to be part of the solution—“you give them something to eat”. It is a participatory miracle. Jesus intends to bless people through the works of his followers. As someone has said, Jesus could just as easily have made a happy meal—or at least the 1st century version of a happy meal—show up in everybody’s lap, and it would have been just as much a miracle. But that’s not what Jesus did. And it’s not the way God calls us to work in the world as followers of Christ.
The church finds its identity when it participates in the mission of God. We are followers of Christ when we are joining the mission of Christ’s compassion to the world. The church knows who it is and what it is doing when we are involved in doing the work- the compassionate, merciful work—of God. I have a friend who says “be careful what you pray for—because God just might use you to be part of the solution.” Praying about the hungry people? God will move you to help. Concerned about domestic violence? God will find a way to use you.
We feed people here. One Great Hour of Sharing. Presbyterian Disaster Assistance. The food pantry, the mobile food truck. Free Friday lunch. The clothing drive. Ask anybody who’s worked those events—how moving it is, to be able to help people. The Food pantry truck was in Burdett last week- the entire truck was emptied in 40 minutes.
But we have to remember it is God who is feeding—and we are hungry, and are fed, as well. In Session this week, we talked about where we find ourselves fed: in church, at this Table, in Sunday School, when we are serving others. In a few minutes we will go to the table, and we will celebrate the gifts of God for the people of God. We will be pass the bread around, just as it was passed in that Galilean wilderness all those years ago. We will be fed with God’s amazing, surprising abundance and grace. We will have leftovers, as well. We will tell the story of what God is like, and how God cares for us through Christ, and how we are to care for the world that God so loves. Amen.
8The LORD is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
9The LORD is good to all, and his compassion is over all that he has made.
14The LORD upholds all who are falling, and raises up all who are bowed down.
15The eyes of all look to you, and you give them their food in due season.
16You open your hand, satisfying the desire of every living thing.
17The LORD is just in all his ways, and kind in all his doings.
18The LORD is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.
19He fulfills the desire of all who fear him; he also hears their cry, and saves them.
20The LORD watches over all who love him, but all the wicked he will destroy.
21My mouth will speak the praise of the LORD, and all flesh will bless his holy name forever and ever.
Matthew 14:13-21 p796
13Now Jesus withdrew in a boat to a deserted place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns.14When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick.15When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.”16Jesus said to them, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.”17They replied, “We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.”18And he said, “Bring them here to me.”19Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds.20And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full.21And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children.
This is the word of the Lord…..thanks be to God
If there was only one story you could tell, what would it be? You know, the kind of story that sums up, in one caption, one illustration, the kind of person a person is? We often tell these stories after someone has died. We heard many stories about Jean this past week. If there was one story we could tell about Jesus Christ, about what God is doing in Jesus Christ, what would we say?
This story, of the feeding of the 5000, is the only story to appear in all of the 4 of the gospels. This story must have meant something deep and wonderful to the early church, a way to explain who Christ was, and what God is like.
I can imagine the disciples telling the story, years after the event: a little embarrassed, perhaps, laughing in that sort of shamefaced way….”well, we were just trying to be practical, you know- it was really late, and the people were a long way from home…and then—and then- Jesus looked at us and said “you give them something to eat…….” And then the smiles began, and perhaps a few tears- “and so, we gave him what we had- which wasn’t much!” and then we took up baskets- large baskets- of leftovers- we started with practically nothing, and there were leftovers- 12 baskets- we each went around and collected what was left over- that’s what I can’t get over- we all ate, and had enough to eat, and there were leftovers after having practically nothing at all!”
What kind of God is God? What kind of Savior is Jesus?
A God who is concerned with us on a bodily level. A God who knows that talk is cheap. That hungry people don’t care about religion—they only want to see that their children get fed.
And a God who calls us to participate in miracles.
Very early in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus is in the wilderness, tempted by Satan. And Satan shows him all the stones lying on the ground—“turn these into bread” Satan says. People will follow you, you will be popular, you will rule the world if you can feed them. It was a strategy that was working for the Roman army—bread! The people may not like the oppressors, but at least there was bread!
But in that wilderness, Jesus resisted, turned down Satan’s offer. He did not want to rule by being a “bread king”. Here, out in this wilderness, Jesus sees the crowd, and has compassion. Why feed them now? Perhaps it is this: he turns to the disciples and says: You give them something to eat.
Yikes. 5 loaves and two fish. Not even enough for 12 disciples, much less 5000 men and their families. And yet, they hand it over to Jesus.
And Jesus looks up to heaven, and blesses the bread, and breaks it, and hands it out. And there is enough. More than enough—an overflowing, abundant more than enough. Enough so there are leftovers- 12 baskets of leftovers. Twelve BIG baskets—and the words there mean a surprising abundance, more than expected, more than just enough.
We have talked recently about being co-laborers with God, co-participants with God’s work in the Kingdom. It is true here- Jesus calls the disciples to be part of the solution—“you give them something to eat”. It is a participatory miracle. Jesus intends to bless people through the works of his followers. As someone has said, Jesus could just as easily have made a happy meal—or at least the 1st century version of a happy meal—show up in everybody’s lap, and it would have been just as much a miracle. But that’s not what Jesus did. And it’s not the way God calls us to work in the world as followers of Christ.
The church finds its identity when it participates in the mission of God. We are followers of Christ when we are joining the mission of Christ’s compassion to the world. The church knows who it is and what it is doing when we are involved in doing the work- the compassionate, merciful work—of God. I have a friend who says “be careful what you pray for—because God just might use you to be part of the solution.” Praying about the hungry people? God will move you to help. Concerned about domestic violence? God will find a way to use you.
We feed people here. One Great Hour of Sharing. Presbyterian Disaster Assistance. The food pantry, the mobile food truck. Free Friday lunch. The clothing drive. Ask anybody who’s worked those events—how moving it is, to be able to help people. The Food pantry truck was in Burdett last week- the entire truck was emptied in 40 minutes.
But we have to remember it is God who is feeding—and we are hungry, and are fed, as well. In Session this week, we talked about where we find ourselves fed: in church, at this Table, in Sunday School, when we are serving others. In a few minutes we will go to the table, and we will celebrate the gifts of God for the people of God. We will be pass the bread around, just as it was passed in that Galilean wilderness all those years ago. We will be fed with God’s amazing, surprising abundance and grace. We will have leftovers, as well. We will tell the story of what God is like, and how God cares for us through Christ, and how we are to care for the world that God so loves. Amen.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Cooperative Providence
Sermon (Romans 8:18-30)
This morning we continue reading Paul’s letter to the house churches in Rome. Now I know Paul can get a little wordy and his logic a little convoluted. All right, maybe more than just a little. But Paul is passionate, and he is trying to describe God at work in his life, in the church, and in the world. Before I read this morning’s text which continues where we left off last week, let me try to recap the journey Paul has taken us on.
Paul begins his letter reminding his audience that the gospel isn’t a story about God’s power. The gospel is power, the power of God for salvation. It is Jesus Christ. His death and resurrection give witness to a God who loves us just the way we are, who loves us too much to leave us powerless and at the mercy of Sin and death, and whose love is stronger even than death. It is the human predicament that we find ourselves unable to do the things we know we should do, or to stop doing the things we know we shouldn’t. And we are helpless to change ourselves.
Paul can declare in Christ there is now no condemnation. Through Christ we have been given the gift of God’s Spirit that frees us from setting our minds on things that are destructive to our relationships and to ourselves. We are able now to set our minds and reorient our whole being on the things that are life-giving. It is the Spirit that makes us children of God who can pray, “Abba,” that is, “Our Father.” But the powers of Sin and death aren’t done yet. As children of God, we who are “joint heirs with Christ” also suffer with him so that we may also look forward to being glorified with him.
That brings us to this morning’s text: Romans 8:18-30, found on page 919 in your pew Bible. Listen for the word of God.
*********
18I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. 19For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God; 20for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope 21that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. 22We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; 23and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. 24For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? 25But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.
26Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. 27And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. 28We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.
29For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn within a large family. 30And those whom he predestined he also called; and those whom he called he also justified; and those whom he justified he also glorified.
The word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.
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Did you hear all that “creation” language? “Creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God.” Creation hopes for the day it “will be set free from its bondage to decay.” Creation groans in “labor pains.”
Up to this point in his letter, Paul has been describing the human condition. Christ has come; Sin and death are on their way out. But we still struggle daily to avoid the siren call of the powers of this world which perpetuate fear and tell us to worry only about ourselves. At the same time we long for the day when wars will cease, people will have enough to eat, children will grow up in safe and nurturing families, and broken relationships will be restored.
Now Paul expands our vision. It is not only human beings who are struggling, who are suffering, who know life is not as God intended. It is not only we who long for God’s promised kingdom. All of creation longs for that day as well.
The word Paul uses for this longing comes from the image of one straining the neck in anticipation. Think of a person on a train platform waiting for the arrival of their beloved who has been away for a long time. Maybe you’ve been that person eagerly waiting the time when you will be reunited. Then you hear the train whistle in the distance – you know the train is coming soon. Everyone waiting walks toward the edge of the platform straining their neck to catch of glimpse of the engine. That’s what Paul is describing. Creation is waiting on tiptoes straining its neck for a glimpse of God’s coming kingdom.
Creation is waiting on tiptoes because all of creation is broken. In many places in our world you can see the effects of human presence. Cities are overcrowded, choked with smog, endless suburbs and traffic jams. The folks in the Los Angeles area have been preparing for Carmeggedon – the shutdown of the 405, which is the main thoroughfare from the valley to downtown. The media were even telling folks to stay home rather than risk getting caught in gridlock on alternate routes.
Maybe Paul was ahead of his time or perhaps his friends Priscilla and Aquilla who were from Rome told him about the city. Rome had become a burgeoning metropolis at the center of the empire. It was no longer able to support itself having to import its water through an extensive network of aqueducts, and its food via fleets of cargo ships. Some would say these were Rome’s weaknesses and the cause of its downfall.
Fortunately, we here in the Finger Lakes are somewhat isolated from this. I hear often from folks who visit this area how beautiful this area is. Jim & I love taking walks up Tichenor Rd. The vineyards, the corn fields, the view of the other side of the lake – all of it is so idyllic. But if we’re honest, we face environmental concerns here, as well. And I don’t even have to bring up drilling in the Marcelles Shale or the Liquid Petroleum Gas storage facility.
But creation is not giving up in despair; it waits like Paul, like us, like all who are in Christ, in hope for what God has promised will happen, and already shown in Jesus Christ: our redemption. And that is the first point I want to leave you with: Creation is not once and done; it didn’t just happen “in the beginning.” God is still at work creating.
Yes, there are some in the wider Church who insist it happened just as the Bible said in six days. While folks from the Intelligent Design camp argue that God created the whole universe according to a blueprint established from the very beginning. And there are those who argue it all happened without the need for a god. I look around at the world and I see a Creator behind it, a very great one, to whom I give thanks.
Still, most of the arguments about creation focus on what happened long ago and seem to suggest it was all set in motion and now runs on autopilot. Less attention is given to what God is doing now. Yet, the scientific evidence points to a continually evolving creation with some species dying out and new ones being created. And the biblical witness attests to a God who is still creating, still involved with creation.
One analogy is God as playwright who directs her own play. God gives general direction, but allows the actors the freedom to improvise, or even rewrites part of the script to accommodate the players. God the creative and flexible playwright; a creator who keeps on creating. By the way, the classical word for this is providence.
This evolving, living, God-guided creation is groaning in labor pains. But did you also hear: we, too, who have been given the gift of the Spirit, also groan with creation. And there’s another connection. Paul writes that the Spirit who “helps us in our weakness … intercedes [for us] with sighs too deep for words.” I love the poetry of that phrase and I give the translators kudos for its beauty, but what Paul actually writes is this: the Spirit intercedes for us with inexpressible groans. God’s Spirit is so close to our hearts that words are not necessary.
Creation groans, we groan, the Spirit groans. We’re all connected – that’s the second point. Just as creation’s suffering is in some ways a consequence of human action, so its hope for freedom and renewal is connected to and dependent upon us, the children of God. That is also something science has discovered: life on this planet is interconnected, a web of life. Life in God’s Kingdom is based on relationship. Paul reminds us God’s Spirit helps us to see our connection with creation.
Some see this as a clear call for us to be good stewards of the earth. We can’t turn a blind eye to the problems in creation anymore than we can ignore the needs of people around us. If we as Christians give up on creation, we give up on God, the one has made us and sustained us. It’s the Spirit that nudges us to notice and be sensitive to the groaning of the world. But if that seems too much, Paul also tells us the Spirit is our connection and creation’s connection to God. This is why we along with all of God’s creation can wait eagerly with patience. If God the creator is still creating and guiding, if we have been promised adoption as children of God, if the future of creation is connected to our future, then we and creation can wait with hope.
Here’s the third point. We don’t get to wait with hope by sitting around twiddling our thumbs. We have a part to play aided by the power of God’s Spirit. Here’s what Paul says, “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God.”
Frankly, this is a difficult sentence to translate and too many have wrongly interpreted Paul to mean, “Don’t worry; everything always works out just fine for believers.” A better version of the text says this: “We know that in all things, God is working toward the good … together with those who love God,” together with us.
Paul makes a very strong claim for providence but it is a kind of cooperative providence. We cooperate in providence by working toward what we hope God intends. We cooperate in providence by looking for God’s hand in the beauty and mystery of creation.
What we are not allowed to do as Christians is to say that it’s all up to us and if we can just figure out the right plan, we can solve this problem. Nothing in heaven or on earth is all up to us. We’re too little and it’s too late. What we are allowed to do as Christians is to look for those moments and those places where God is moving the whole creation out of its groaning toward the fulfillment of God’s promises. What we are invited to do is to take our role in God’s great drama.
And Paul, having glimpsed the glory of where this drama is going, can only conclude in doxology, giving praise to the God who will never abandon us.
This morning we continue reading Paul’s letter to the house churches in Rome. Now I know Paul can get a little wordy and his logic a little convoluted. All right, maybe more than just a little. But Paul is passionate, and he is trying to describe God at work in his life, in the church, and in the world. Before I read this morning’s text which continues where we left off last week, let me try to recap the journey Paul has taken us on.
Paul begins his letter reminding his audience that the gospel isn’t a story about God’s power. The gospel is power, the power of God for salvation. It is Jesus Christ. His death and resurrection give witness to a God who loves us just the way we are, who loves us too much to leave us powerless and at the mercy of Sin and death, and whose love is stronger even than death. It is the human predicament that we find ourselves unable to do the things we know we should do, or to stop doing the things we know we shouldn’t. And we are helpless to change ourselves.
Paul can declare in Christ there is now no condemnation. Through Christ we have been given the gift of God’s Spirit that frees us from setting our minds on things that are destructive to our relationships and to ourselves. We are able now to set our minds and reorient our whole being on the things that are life-giving. It is the Spirit that makes us children of God who can pray, “Abba,” that is, “Our Father.” But the powers of Sin and death aren’t done yet. As children of God, we who are “joint heirs with Christ” also suffer with him so that we may also look forward to being glorified with him.
That brings us to this morning’s text: Romans 8:18-30, found on page 919 in your pew Bible. Listen for the word of God.
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18I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. 19For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God; 20for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope 21that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. 22We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; 23and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. 24For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? 25But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.
26Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. 27And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. 28We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.
29For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn within a large family. 30And those whom he predestined he also called; and those whom he called he also justified; and those whom he justified he also glorified.
The word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.
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Did you hear all that “creation” language? “Creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God.” Creation hopes for the day it “will be set free from its bondage to decay.” Creation groans in “labor pains.”
Up to this point in his letter, Paul has been describing the human condition. Christ has come; Sin and death are on their way out. But we still struggle daily to avoid the siren call of the powers of this world which perpetuate fear and tell us to worry only about ourselves. At the same time we long for the day when wars will cease, people will have enough to eat, children will grow up in safe and nurturing families, and broken relationships will be restored.
Now Paul expands our vision. It is not only human beings who are struggling, who are suffering, who know life is not as God intended. It is not only we who long for God’s promised kingdom. All of creation longs for that day as well.
The word Paul uses for this longing comes from the image of one straining the neck in anticipation. Think of a person on a train platform waiting for the arrival of their beloved who has been away for a long time. Maybe you’ve been that person eagerly waiting the time when you will be reunited. Then you hear the train whistle in the distance – you know the train is coming soon. Everyone waiting walks toward the edge of the platform straining their neck to catch of glimpse of the engine. That’s what Paul is describing. Creation is waiting on tiptoes straining its neck for a glimpse of God’s coming kingdom.
Creation is waiting on tiptoes because all of creation is broken. In many places in our world you can see the effects of human presence. Cities are overcrowded, choked with smog, endless suburbs and traffic jams. The folks in the Los Angeles area have been preparing for Carmeggedon – the shutdown of the 405, which is the main thoroughfare from the valley to downtown. The media were even telling folks to stay home rather than risk getting caught in gridlock on alternate routes.
Maybe Paul was ahead of his time or perhaps his friends Priscilla and Aquilla who were from Rome told him about the city. Rome had become a burgeoning metropolis at the center of the empire. It was no longer able to support itself having to import its water through an extensive network of aqueducts, and its food via fleets of cargo ships. Some would say these were Rome’s weaknesses and the cause of its downfall.
Fortunately, we here in the Finger Lakes are somewhat isolated from this. I hear often from folks who visit this area how beautiful this area is. Jim & I love taking walks up Tichenor Rd. The vineyards, the corn fields, the view of the other side of the lake – all of it is so idyllic. But if we’re honest, we face environmental concerns here, as well. And I don’t even have to bring up drilling in the Marcelles Shale or the Liquid Petroleum Gas storage facility.
But creation is not giving up in despair; it waits like Paul, like us, like all who are in Christ, in hope for what God has promised will happen, and already shown in Jesus Christ: our redemption. And that is the first point I want to leave you with: Creation is not once and done; it didn’t just happen “in the beginning.” God is still at work creating.
Yes, there are some in the wider Church who insist it happened just as the Bible said in six days. While folks from the Intelligent Design camp argue that God created the whole universe according to a blueprint established from the very beginning. And there are those who argue it all happened without the need for a god. I look around at the world and I see a Creator behind it, a very great one, to whom I give thanks.
Still, most of the arguments about creation focus on what happened long ago and seem to suggest it was all set in motion and now runs on autopilot. Less attention is given to what God is doing now. Yet, the scientific evidence points to a continually evolving creation with some species dying out and new ones being created. And the biblical witness attests to a God who is still creating, still involved with creation.
One analogy is God as playwright who directs her own play. God gives general direction, but allows the actors the freedom to improvise, or even rewrites part of the script to accommodate the players. God the creative and flexible playwright; a creator who keeps on creating. By the way, the classical word for this is providence.
This evolving, living, God-guided creation is groaning in labor pains. But did you also hear: we, too, who have been given the gift of the Spirit, also groan with creation. And there’s another connection. Paul writes that the Spirit who “helps us in our weakness … intercedes [for us] with sighs too deep for words.” I love the poetry of that phrase and I give the translators kudos for its beauty, but what Paul actually writes is this: the Spirit intercedes for us with inexpressible groans. God’s Spirit is so close to our hearts that words are not necessary.
Creation groans, we groan, the Spirit groans. We’re all connected – that’s the second point. Just as creation’s suffering is in some ways a consequence of human action, so its hope for freedom and renewal is connected to and dependent upon us, the children of God. That is also something science has discovered: life on this planet is interconnected, a web of life. Life in God’s Kingdom is based on relationship. Paul reminds us God’s Spirit helps us to see our connection with creation.
Some see this as a clear call for us to be good stewards of the earth. We can’t turn a blind eye to the problems in creation anymore than we can ignore the needs of people around us. If we as Christians give up on creation, we give up on God, the one has made us and sustained us. It’s the Spirit that nudges us to notice and be sensitive to the groaning of the world. But if that seems too much, Paul also tells us the Spirit is our connection and creation’s connection to God. This is why we along with all of God’s creation can wait eagerly with patience. If God the creator is still creating and guiding, if we have been promised adoption as children of God, if the future of creation is connected to our future, then we and creation can wait with hope.
Here’s the third point. We don’t get to wait with hope by sitting around twiddling our thumbs. We have a part to play aided by the power of God’s Spirit. Here’s what Paul says, “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God.”
Frankly, this is a difficult sentence to translate and too many have wrongly interpreted Paul to mean, “Don’t worry; everything always works out just fine for believers.” A better version of the text says this: “We know that in all things, God is working toward the good … together with those who love God,” together with us.
Paul makes a very strong claim for providence but it is a kind of cooperative providence. We cooperate in providence by working toward what we hope God intends. We cooperate in providence by looking for God’s hand in the beauty and mystery of creation.
What we are not allowed to do as Christians is to say that it’s all up to us and if we can just figure out the right plan, we can solve this problem. Nothing in heaven or on earth is all up to us. We’re too little and it’s too late. What we are allowed to do as Christians is to look for those moments and those places where God is moving the whole creation out of its groaning toward the fulfillment of God’s promises. What we are invited to do is to take our role in God’s great drama.
And Paul, having glimpsed the glory of where this drama is going, can only conclude in doxology, giving praise to the God who will never abandon us.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
You're Welcome!
Psalm 89: 1-4 p 475
1I will sing of your steadfast love, O LORD, forever; with my mouth I will proclaim your faithfulness to all generations.
2I declare that your steadfast love is established forever; your faithfulness is as firm as the heavens.
3You said, “I have made a covenant with my chosen one, I have sworn to my servant David:
4‘I will establish your descendants forever, and build your throne for all generations.’”
Matthew 10:40-42 p 791
40“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.41Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous;42and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”
Welcome. We see and hear that word a lot. On our doormats. On signs in our homes, usually hung up in the kitchen. Even at the store: “Welcome to Walmart”! We are told.
Some people have the spiritual gift of hospitality. They know how to welcome people, and they do it well. It does not mean that there are elaborate plans made, elaborate feasts prepared. It does not mean they act like Martha Stewart. But by careful observation, these gifted people know just how and what to say, what questions to ask, how much or little to leave a person alone. They read people well, and extend the right kind of hospitality to them.
Yale Divinity school professor Siobhan Garrigan tells a story from her travels around Ireland. Arriving at a Presbyterian church in Northern Ireland, she was greeted at the door by two women, church members, who seemed to invite her into conversation. After a moment, Dr Garrigan realized that these women were ushers of some sort, whose job it was to stand at the door and interview newcomers as they arrived. They quietly asked her name and the first name of any other approaching strangers who wished to join in the morning worship.
Then Dr Garrigan figured out what was going on. Hearing the first names, the ushers would draw conclusions about the cultural and religious identity of each. Those with Protestant names were welcomed warmly and shown their seats. Those with apparently Catholic names, like Maria, or Patrick or Catherine, were told that they were surely in the wrong church and sent on their way.
Surely, that was a long time ago, we might think. But Dr Garrigan assures us it is current practice still today. Surely, we think, that happens over there, in Northern Ireland, but not here. Here—here we are welcoming, here we are hospitable. We are not like that here, are we?
In her book Amazing Grace, Kathleen Norris tells the story of the opposite side of hospitality: a nun who, although she has Alzheimer's, still asks, every day, to be rolled in her wheelchair to the door of her nursing home so she can greet every guest. Said one nun of her sister in ministry, "She is no longer certain what she is welcoming people to...but hospitality is so deeply ingrained in her that it has become her whole life" (265).
The gospel lesson invites us to ask ourselves about the quality of welcome we give and receive.
The text this morning is the tail-end of the Mission Discourse that began in chapter 9. The disciples were being sent out, all 12 of them, on a mission trip. They were given instructions by Jesus on where to go, what to pack, and what not to take. They are to proclaim the good news, and have no fear, even though their reception will not always be pleasant.
But for those who welcome the traveling disciples, it will be as if they were welcoming Jesus himself. And for those who welcome Jesus, it will be as if they were welcoming God.
The Christian church is founded on hospitality. The early church was formed out of, and took in, those who were unwanted by society, those who were cast out of their families, those who were rejected. In fourth century Egypt, a man named Pachomius was one of a group of people abducted by roving gangs to be sent down the Nile to work as salves for the Roman army. The group was imprisoned in Thebes before being deported for work. When Christians in the city learned of the prisoners’ plight, they brought them food and drink. Their generosity prompted Pachomius to ask who those people were. He was told “they were Christians, who are merciful to everyone, including strangers.” This act of unexpected hospitality led to Pachomius’ conversion to Christianity.
Theologian Gordon Lathrop reminds us that, at the center of the life of the Church and of every congregation, there stands the one who came to live among and share the table with outsiders, those not included in faith community. Whether it was with the prostitute or tax collector, the Samaritan woman at the well or the Syro-Phoenician woman who begged him to heal her daughter, Jesus insisted on opening the fellowship of the faith, drawing in those who are outside it. So it must be with the core ministries of the Church that gathers in his name
But hospitality is a two-sided coin—we are to accept it as well as extend it. We are to be open to others who give to us, as well as seeing ourselves as the hospitable ones, to know we are not the only giving ones.
We are to take whatever hospitality is offered- even just a cup of cold water—and give it and receive it—all in Christ’s name, all with the love of Christ.
And we are to do it out of gratitude—not because hospitality is easy, or fun, or even because we will get a reward. When Jesus talks about people getting a prophet’s reward for their hospitality, I’m not sure that’s entirely a good thing- after all, prophets are pretty unpopular, kicked out of their hometowns, shunned and rejected—much like Jesus himself—but we are to extend hospitality in response to God’s steadfast love, as the psalmist says. God’s chesed- but in doing so we will be blessed.
Kathleen Norris tells another story, of another nun. Kathleen had traveled all the way from South Dakota to California, to be live with members of a convent in California for a time. She was late coming into vespers. An elderly nun, seeing her there, whispered loudly, after the service had started “Who are you?” when Kathleen tried to whisper back, the nun replied: “don’t bother. I’m hard of hearing. It doesn’t matter. We’re all God’s children.”
We’re all God’s children. We all are thirsty at times, we are all in need of bread and water.
Mother Theresa said “not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” A cup of cold water- how small is that ? But it is something we can do.
The ancient fathers and mothers practiced radical hospitality. Whoever showed up, they took in. Without question: prostitutes, unwed mothers, the homeless—because they knew to welcome others was to welcome Christ. One desert father, upon seeing yet another hungry, poor traveler journeying toward the convent, looked up and said “Jesus Christ, is it you again?”
So, in this nest week, I want you to look with the eyes of faith: who gives you water? And to whom do you extend a cup of cold water—a smile—a card—a prayer? And what—and who—do you receive in return?
1I will sing of your steadfast love, O LORD, forever; with my mouth I will proclaim your faithfulness to all generations.
2I declare that your steadfast love is established forever; your faithfulness is as firm as the heavens.
3You said, “I have made a covenant with my chosen one, I have sworn to my servant David:
4‘I will establish your descendants forever, and build your throne for all generations.’”
Matthew 10:40-42 p 791
40“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.41Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous;42and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”
Welcome. We see and hear that word a lot. On our doormats. On signs in our homes, usually hung up in the kitchen. Even at the store: “Welcome to Walmart”! We are told.
Some people have the spiritual gift of hospitality. They know how to welcome people, and they do it well. It does not mean that there are elaborate plans made, elaborate feasts prepared. It does not mean they act like Martha Stewart. But by careful observation, these gifted people know just how and what to say, what questions to ask, how much or little to leave a person alone. They read people well, and extend the right kind of hospitality to them.
Yale Divinity school professor Siobhan Garrigan tells a story from her travels around Ireland. Arriving at a Presbyterian church in Northern Ireland, she was greeted at the door by two women, church members, who seemed to invite her into conversation. After a moment, Dr Garrigan realized that these women were ushers of some sort, whose job it was to stand at the door and interview newcomers as they arrived. They quietly asked her name and the first name of any other approaching strangers who wished to join in the morning worship.
Then Dr Garrigan figured out what was going on. Hearing the first names, the ushers would draw conclusions about the cultural and religious identity of each. Those with Protestant names were welcomed warmly and shown their seats. Those with apparently Catholic names, like Maria, or Patrick or Catherine, were told that they were surely in the wrong church and sent on their way.
Surely, that was a long time ago, we might think. But Dr Garrigan assures us it is current practice still today. Surely, we think, that happens over there, in Northern Ireland, but not here. Here—here we are welcoming, here we are hospitable. We are not like that here, are we?
In her book Amazing Grace, Kathleen Norris tells the story of the opposite side of hospitality: a nun who, although she has Alzheimer's, still asks, every day, to be rolled in her wheelchair to the door of her nursing home so she can greet every guest. Said one nun of her sister in ministry, "She is no longer certain what she is welcoming people to...but hospitality is so deeply ingrained in her that it has become her whole life" (265).
The gospel lesson invites us to ask ourselves about the quality of welcome we give and receive.
The text this morning is the tail-end of the Mission Discourse that began in chapter 9. The disciples were being sent out, all 12 of them, on a mission trip. They were given instructions by Jesus on where to go, what to pack, and what not to take. They are to proclaim the good news, and have no fear, even though their reception will not always be pleasant.
But for those who welcome the traveling disciples, it will be as if they were welcoming Jesus himself. And for those who welcome Jesus, it will be as if they were welcoming God.
The Christian church is founded on hospitality. The early church was formed out of, and took in, those who were unwanted by society, those who were cast out of their families, those who were rejected. In fourth century Egypt, a man named Pachomius was one of a group of people abducted by roving gangs to be sent down the Nile to work as salves for the Roman army. The group was imprisoned in Thebes before being deported for work. When Christians in the city learned of the prisoners’ plight, they brought them food and drink. Their generosity prompted Pachomius to ask who those people were. He was told “they were Christians, who are merciful to everyone, including strangers.” This act of unexpected hospitality led to Pachomius’ conversion to Christianity.
Theologian Gordon Lathrop reminds us that, at the center of the life of the Church and of every congregation, there stands the one who came to live among and share the table with outsiders, those not included in faith community. Whether it was with the prostitute or tax collector, the Samaritan woman at the well or the Syro-Phoenician woman who begged him to heal her daughter, Jesus insisted on opening the fellowship of the faith, drawing in those who are outside it. So it must be with the core ministries of the Church that gathers in his name
But hospitality is a two-sided coin—we are to accept it as well as extend it. We are to be open to others who give to us, as well as seeing ourselves as the hospitable ones, to know we are not the only giving ones.
We are to take whatever hospitality is offered- even just a cup of cold water—and give it and receive it—all in Christ’s name, all with the love of Christ.
And we are to do it out of gratitude—not because hospitality is easy, or fun, or even because we will get a reward. When Jesus talks about people getting a prophet’s reward for their hospitality, I’m not sure that’s entirely a good thing- after all, prophets are pretty unpopular, kicked out of their hometowns, shunned and rejected—much like Jesus himself—but we are to extend hospitality in response to God’s steadfast love, as the psalmist says. God’s chesed- but in doing so we will be blessed.
Kathleen Norris tells another story, of another nun. Kathleen had traveled all the way from South Dakota to California, to be live with members of a convent in California for a time. She was late coming into vespers. An elderly nun, seeing her there, whispered loudly, after the service had started “Who are you?” when Kathleen tried to whisper back, the nun replied: “don’t bother. I’m hard of hearing. It doesn’t matter. We’re all God’s children.”
We’re all God’s children. We all are thirsty at times, we are all in need of bread and water.
Mother Theresa said “not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” A cup of cold water- how small is that ? But it is something we can do.
The ancient fathers and mothers practiced radical hospitality. Whoever showed up, they took in. Without question: prostitutes, unwed mothers, the homeless—because they knew to welcome others was to welcome Christ. One desert father, upon seeing yet another hungry, poor traveler journeying toward the convent, looked up and said “Jesus Christ, is it you again?”
So, in this nest week, I want you to look with the eyes of faith: who gives you water? And to whom do you extend a cup of cold water—a smile—a card—a prayer? And what—and who—do you receive in return?
O Trinity of Love and Light
Genesis 1:1-2, 26-27 p1
When God began creating the heavens and the earth,2the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. 26 Then God said “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have stewardship of the fish in the sea, and of the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing upon the earth. So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God, God created them; male and female God created them.
Matthew 28:16-20 p 812
16Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them.17When they saw Jesus, they worshiped him; but some doubted.18And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.19Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,20and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
This day, in the church calendar, is called Trinity Sunday. It is the only day in the church year that celebrates a doctrine, a theological idea or theorem. And, one I suppose, that many of us care little about. Today will come and go- and we will still have bills to pay, and sick children to take care of, and a spouse we worry about. Our loved ones will serve overseas, our physical pain will continue, the grass will still need to be mowed, the laundry need to be done. The doctrine of the Trinity—or any doctrine, for that matter, seems at best far away, something academicians talk about in ivory towers, but having very little to do with our every day lives.
And yet—and yet—the doctrine of the Trinity, the notion of a God so large, so awe inspiring, so overwhelming that one description of God is not enough, that mere language is not enough—is a notion of comfort, a way to explain- just a little- the mystery of overflowing love.
But what IS useful for us is the idea that God IS community- and that God, in God’s own self, demonstrates how to be community. And the community we are talking about is, of course, the church.
In Genesis, in the beginning--- God. When God began creating, God breathes and speaks, sees and creates. And God speaks in plural: “Let us make God in our image” God says. And this is a part of our understanding of Trinity- that God is plural, even before we have language to think about it, talk about it. At the beginning, even before the beginning, God is already community. This God of community and mystery is a relational God who loves, and in loving, chooses to create, redeem, and sustain creation, regardless of the ability of different parts of creation to respond in particular ways.
And this God loves us, and loves creation: “it is good”, God says. And this passage uses the name for God, Elohim – a plural form—in three different ways: in verse 1, Elohim is creating- out of nothing! In verse 2, the wind, or spirit or breath of Elohim is hovering, and in verse 4, Elohim is seeing and naming- that creation is good.
James Weldon Johnson was an African American poet, author and hymn writer. He wrote “Lift every voice and Sing”, which is in our hymn book. He also wrote a poem called The Creation, which begins “And God stepped out on space. Then he looked around and said—I’m lonely—I’ll make me a world.”
Now, I do not doubt Mr. Johnson’s talent or his place in history. But I disagree with him here. It is not loneliness which causes God to create—it is pure, overflowing love—the same way that the waters spill out of the pitcher and font and land on the floor every Sunday, the same way that light spills from the skies and illuminates everything in its path, the same way that having another child doesn’t mean you have less love, it just means there is more love to go around—God, the Triune God, the already community God, had so much love that God just had to share—with creation and with us.
If you have been in the Lodi historical society building, the old Lodi Methodist church, perhaps you have noticed a small stained glass window. The window is triangular in shape, in which a smaller, rounded off triangle is depicted in stained glass- and the three points of the triangle are the Latin words for Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. In the middle of the triangle is the word Deus- God. Linking each of the points of the triangle are the words, in Latin, for “is not” the Father is not the Son, the Son is not the Holy Spirit, etc- but all three persons are linked, like spokes on a bicycle wheel, in the middle to the word God. And all of those links have the word “is”- the Son IS God, the Holy Spirit IS God, the Father IS God. And while this is technically correct, doctrinally correct, it seems to me like a math theorem.
There are many ways, many images for God as Trinity: Water: overflowing font, living water, flowing river. Rock, Cornerstone and Temple. St Augustine used a living tree: the root is wood, the branch is wood, the trunk is wood- all are wood, all are different, all are inextricably linked in a mutual life.
But I like the image of a dancing God best.
One of the images for the Trinity is the idea of a circle dance-perichoresis, the same word that we get choreography from. And in that image, God in Three persons is dancing—intertwined, arms linked, feet moving joyously in a dance of freedom and love. When our boys were little, and Jim would finally get home from long hours at work, and a long commute on the Thruway, the boys would say jump around and yell “family hug, family hug!” And Jim and I would hug, and then boost the boys up on our arms—my image if the Trinity is something like that—that we are all linked together.
The Gospel of Matthew ends with the words of Jesus. The portion we heard this morning is called the Great Commission. And I don’t think that there were many hugs on that mountaintop that morning—maybe just grabbing onto each other in fear. This is the first time the disciples have seen Jesus, since they abandoned him, since they fled during his arrest. There are only 11 disciples mentioned, so the community has already experienced trauma and betrayal and death—and resurrection. The disciples are still shell shocked. The women had come running from the tomb, that Easter morning, and told the men what they had been told: go to Galilee, because Jesus will meet you there…the whole community, went to Galilee- about 70 or 80 miles…to wait for Jesus. What will he say to them? How much shame are they bearing, having to see Jesus again, face to face? And when the disciples see Jesus, they worship…but some doubt….literally, they are of two minds—and Jesus appears to them.
This I think, if one of the best descriptions of the church I have ever seen, the community of faith, made up of disparate people, some of whom have heard the words of the resurrected Jesus, some of whom have heard the other’s description of that event, all of whom are on a journey—of two minds- worshipping and doubting at the same time, marked by grief and death—and receiving the gracious words of Jesus, words of power and resurrection and of comfort.
Jesus is not shaming them, Jesus is not reproaching them. Jesus is giving them work to do. Jesus is giving them their marching orders- Go- Go and make disciples, baptizing and teaching. And remember, I am with you—always. Immanuel- God with us.
And as the community of faith, we can look to that moment, that God on the mountaintop, and see what kind of community the Triune God calls us to be:
We have work to do
God calls us to that work, whether we are screw-ups, or have failures in our life, for surely we do, or whether we doubt or worship or are of two minds, or any of the above- God calls us.
We are to do so without recriminations, without backbiting, with love- because that is what Jesus commands: we are to go and teach others , baptizing, making disciples of every nation, teach them to obey everything that I have commanded you- and what is that command? Love. Mutual love, upbuilding love, respectful love- the love that the Trinity, God in God’s own self, displays. Love that does not override someone else, but love in which all participants are joined- as in a circle dance—and separate and distinct, equal and equally loving, in relationship with each other and with God.
“We cannot speak of this God without recognizing that Trinity is not an optional “extra” to God, but is the very nature of God as revealed to us in Scripture. To lose the vocabulary of the Trinity is to miss out on a full understanding of who God is,” Charles Wiley writes.
Rodger Nishioka, this past week, at Montreat Youth Conference, said to over 1600 youth- “You cannot be a Christian by yourself”. We need each other. In the same way that the Three-ness of God is essential to who God is, the community-ness of the church is essential to who the church is. I have heard many times since we’ve moved up here- “you don’t have to go to church to be a Christian” and I agree, going to church does not make you a Christian, as they say, anymore than being in the garage makes you a car. But I can’t imagine how one could be a Christian without a community—because I find the work of being a Christian so hard, that I need others who are on the journey with me.
The Trinitarian God points to the relational nature of our lives. God in three persons is a relational idea- the three persons of the Trinity relate to each other in divine love. Each person of the Trinity has a distinct identity and yet all are connected and linked. Surely this means that just as love characterizes the eternal Trinity, so love should characterize our lives as a community of faith as well.
May we be shelter for each other, as we go out, making disciples, baptizing, teaching. May we reflect the Triune God in our common life together. May we be community, in the way God is community. In the name of the Trinity: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
When God began creating the heavens and the earth,2the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. 26 Then God said “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have stewardship of the fish in the sea, and of the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing upon the earth. So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God, God created them; male and female God created them.
Matthew 28:16-20 p 812
16Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them.17When they saw Jesus, they worshiped him; but some doubted.18And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.19Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,20and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
This day, in the church calendar, is called Trinity Sunday. It is the only day in the church year that celebrates a doctrine, a theological idea or theorem. And, one I suppose, that many of us care little about. Today will come and go- and we will still have bills to pay, and sick children to take care of, and a spouse we worry about. Our loved ones will serve overseas, our physical pain will continue, the grass will still need to be mowed, the laundry need to be done. The doctrine of the Trinity—or any doctrine, for that matter, seems at best far away, something academicians talk about in ivory towers, but having very little to do with our every day lives.
And yet—and yet—the doctrine of the Trinity, the notion of a God so large, so awe inspiring, so overwhelming that one description of God is not enough, that mere language is not enough—is a notion of comfort, a way to explain- just a little- the mystery of overflowing love.
But what IS useful for us is the idea that God IS community- and that God, in God’s own self, demonstrates how to be community. And the community we are talking about is, of course, the church.
In Genesis, in the beginning--- God. When God began creating, God breathes and speaks, sees and creates. And God speaks in plural: “Let us make God in our image” God says. And this is a part of our understanding of Trinity- that God is plural, even before we have language to think about it, talk about it. At the beginning, even before the beginning, God is already community. This God of community and mystery is a relational God who loves, and in loving, chooses to create, redeem, and sustain creation, regardless of the ability of different parts of creation to respond in particular ways.
And this God loves us, and loves creation: “it is good”, God says. And this passage uses the name for God, Elohim – a plural form—in three different ways: in verse 1, Elohim is creating- out of nothing! In verse 2, the wind, or spirit or breath of Elohim is hovering, and in verse 4, Elohim is seeing and naming- that creation is good.
James Weldon Johnson was an African American poet, author and hymn writer. He wrote “Lift every voice and Sing”, which is in our hymn book. He also wrote a poem called The Creation, which begins “And God stepped out on space. Then he looked around and said—I’m lonely—I’ll make me a world.”
Now, I do not doubt Mr. Johnson’s talent or his place in history. But I disagree with him here. It is not loneliness which causes God to create—it is pure, overflowing love—the same way that the waters spill out of the pitcher and font and land on the floor every Sunday, the same way that light spills from the skies and illuminates everything in its path, the same way that having another child doesn’t mean you have less love, it just means there is more love to go around—God, the Triune God, the already community God, had so much love that God just had to share—with creation and with us.
If you have been in the Lodi historical society building, the old Lodi Methodist church, perhaps you have noticed a small stained glass window. The window is triangular in shape, in which a smaller, rounded off triangle is depicted in stained glass- and the three points of the triangle are the Latin words for Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. In the middle of the triangle is the word Deus- God. Linking each of the points of the triangle are the words, in Latin, for “is not” the Father is not the Son, the Son is not the Holy Spirit, etc- but all three persons are linked, like spokes on a bicycle wheel, in the middle to the word God. And all of those links have the word “is”- the Son IS God, the Holy Spirit IS God, the Father IS God. And while this is technically correct, doctrinally correct, it seems to me like a math theorem.
There are many ways, many images for God as Trinity: Water: overflowing font, living water, flowing river. Rock, Cornerstone and Temple. St Augustine used a living tree: the root is wood, the branch is wood, the trunk is wood- all are wood, all are different, all are inextricably linked in a mutual life.
But I like the image of a dancing God best.
One of the images for the Trinity is the idea of a circle dance-perichoresis, the same word that we get choreography from. And in that image, God in Three persons is dancing—intertwined, arms linked, feet moving joyously in a dance of freedom and love. When our boys were little, and Jim would finally get home from long hours at work, and a long commute on the Thruway, the boys would say jump around and yell “family hug, family hug!” And Jim and I would hug, and then boost the boys up on our arms—my image if the Trinity is something like that—that we are all linked together.
The Gospel of Matthew ends with the words of Jesus. The portion we heard this morning is called the Great Commission. And I don’t think that there were many hugs on that mountaintop that morning—maybe just grabbing onto each other in fear. This is the first time the disciples have seen Jesus, since they abandoned him, since they fled during his arrest. There are only 11 disciples mentioned, so the community has already experienced trauma and betrayal and death—and resurrection. The disciples are still shell shocked. The women had come running from the tomb, that Easter morning, and told the men what they had been told: go to Galilee, because Jesus will meet you there…the whole community, went to Galilee- about 70 or 80 miles…to wait for Jesus. What will he say to them? How much shame are they bearing, having to see Jesus again, face to face? And when the disciples see Jesus, they worship…but some doubt….literally, they are of two minds—and Jesus appears to them.
This I think, if one of the best descriptions of the church I have ever seen, the community of faith, made up of disparate people, some of whom have heard the words of the resurrected Jesus, some of whom have heard the other’s description of that event, all of whom are on a journey—of two minds- worshipping and doubting at the same time, marked by grief and death—and receiving the gracious words of Jesus, words of power and resurrection and of comfort.
Jesus is not shaming them, Jesus is not reproaching them. Jesus is giving them work to do. Jesus is giving them their marching orders- Go- Go and make disciples, baptizing and teaching. And remember, I am with you—always. Immanuel- God with us.
And as the community of faith, we can look to that moment, that God on the mountaintop, and see what kind of community the Triune God calls us to be:
We have work to do
God calls us to that work, whether we are screw-ups, or have failures in our life, for surely we do, or whether we doubt or worship or are of two minds, or any of the above- God calls us.
We are to do so without recriminations, without backbiting, with love- because that is what Jesus commands: we are to go and teach others , baptizing, making disciples of every nation, teach them to obey everything that I have commanded you- and what is that command? Love. Mutual love, upbuilding love, respectful love- the love that the Trinity, God in God’s own self, displays. Love that does not override someone else, but love in which all participants are joined- as in a circle dance—and separate and distinct, equal and equally loving, in relationship with each other and with God.
“We cannot speak of this God without recognizing that Trinity is not an optional “extra” to God, but is the very nature of God as revealed to us in Scripture. To lose the vocabulary of the Trinity is to miss out on a full understanding of who God is,” Charles Wiley writes.
Rodger Nishioka, this past week, at Montreat Youth Conference, said to over 1600 youth- “You cannot be a Christian by yourself”. We need each other. In the same way that the Three-ness of God is essential to who God is, the community-ness of the church is essential to who the church is. I have heard many times since we’ve moved up here- “you don’t have to go to church to be a Christian” and I agree, going to church does not make you a Christian, as they say, anymore than being in the garage makes you a car. But I can’t imagine how one could be a Christian without a community—because I find the work of being a Christian so hard, that I need others who are on the journey with me.
The Trinitarian God points to the relational nature of our lives. God in three persons is a relational idea- the three persons of the Trinity relate to each other in divine love. Each person of the Trinity has a distinct identity and yet all are connected and linked. Surely this means that just as love characterizes the eternal Trinity, so love should characterize our lives as a community of faith as well.
May we be shelter for each other, as we go out, making disciples, baptizing, teaching. May we reflect the Triune God in our common life together. May we be community, in the way God is community. In the name of the Trinity: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Plenty Good Room
Psalm 31 p 439
In you, O LORD, I seek refuge; do not let me ever be put to shame; in your righteousness deliver me.
Incline your ear to me; rescue me speedily. Be a rock of refuge for me, a strong fortress to save me.
You are indeed my rock and my fortress; for your name’s sake lead me and guide me,
take me out of the net that is hidden for me, for you are my refuge.
Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O LORD, faithful God.
My times are in your hand; deliver me from the hand of my enemies and persecutors.
Let your face shine upon your servant; save me in your steadfast love.
This is the word of the Lord: Thanks be to God
We’ve all done it, I think- or at least been on the receiving end –that speech, those final words, that try to imbue all the information and wisdom we want to give someone- when we’re leaving the kids for the first time alone—“don’t burn down the place, don’t let anybody in the house, here’s 5$ if you need milk from the store…” or when the children go away: “don’t drive too fast, wear your seat belt, call when you get there…” or even when we are undergoing something unknown, a biopsy or medical procedure, the nurse makes sure to walk us through: “you’ll feel a pinch, and begin to feel a little sleepy, and then the dr will come in, and the next thing you know, you’ll wake up in the recovery room. You’ll be fine.” This morning’s text from John is just that: Part of Jesus’ final words to the disciples: Listen now, for the word of the Lord
John 14:1-14 p 877
14“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. 2In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? 3And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.
4And you know the way to the place where I am going.” 5Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” 6Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. 7If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.” 8Philip said to him, “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.” 9Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? 10Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. 11Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves.
12Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. 13I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. 14If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.
This is the word of the Lord……Thanks be to God
We want to know—we want to be prepared. Jesus will soon go away, and he is trying to reassure the disciples, trying to prepare them. “Do not let your hearts be troubled…” Don’t worry, Jesus says. Really- it’ll be okay- why? Because I am going ahead of you, and I am going to prepare a place for you.
This passage is frequently used at funerals. In my Father’s house there are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?”
Trust me Jesus says. In fact the word used for believe- “believe in God, believe also in me” is really better rendered as “trust”- a trust built on a relationship.
The disciples have a relationship with Jesus. They have been with him for a while, now. This morning’s passage is set after Palm Sunday, after the foot washing, while the disciples are still sitting at the table, but after Jesus has told the disciples about his impending death. They are starting to get nervous-why is he talking like that? What can he possibly mean? What is this talk about going away?
Thomas- and here I want to call him Realistic Thomas rather than Doubting Thomas, asks a common sense question- “Lord, we do not know where you are going” Makes sense. Sensible Thomas wants a road map- where are you going, and how are we going to get there? Where Jesus is going is much less than a destination, and much more of a way of being, however. And Thomas’ words are actually- “we are not able to know where you are going”. It’s not a cognitive, fact based knowing- we are unable to know where you are going-
And Jesus has compassion for them- “I am the way” he tells them. You already know me, Jesus tells them, and in that relationship is all you need to know.
Robert Jenson says that “God is not known by us because he/GOD is amenable to the exercise of our cognitive powers. In a word made flesh, God…is disclosed in the self-giving, self-emptying love that is God’s Son.
Many scholars think the Gospel of John has post-resurrection statements interpolated into the text. That means that the faithful community went back and put in after-Easter, post-death and post-resurrection words into the gospel text. So that Jesus, in saying to his followers, “If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself-“ is the Jesus who has already died, and been resurrected, has already defeated death and sin, has already been raised to glory- and has, indeed, come again to take them to himself.
And where does he appear? In the midst of them, the faithful community. The word “you” in this morning’s text is always plural- you, the disciples, the “all ya’ll” you, the whole church you- not just to one of us, but to all of us, together.
Because did you hear what Jesus had to say? “In my Father’s house are many rooms….” There’s an African-American gospel song, Plenty Good Room. There is a wideness in God’s mercy, another hymn says, like the wideness of the sea. Plenty good room, says the song, plenty good room in my Father’s kingdom. We are called to have that largeness of heart, we are called to make sure there is indeed plenty good room in the kingdom.
If this message to the early church, and to us, is that in God’s house there are lots of rooms, then there must be room for all kinds of people. And there are all kinds of jokes about this: that a Presbyterian dies, and goes to heaven, and is taken on a tour by St Peter—and they pass one room, and there’s all kinds of music and singing: “Oh, those are the Baptists” says St Peter, and they pass another room, and they can hear through the door chanting and smell incense “Oh, those are the Episcopalians” says St Peter. And they go down the hall, and they pass a room, and St Peter motions for the Presbyterian to be silent. “Shh…those are the (fill in the blank denomination here) they think they’re the only ones who got in”.
So what are we to do in this roomy, capacious kingdom? Many point to this text as the text that shows just how wide God’s mercy and grace are, and point to it as a way for us to respond, with grace, to people of other faiths. If God has room in his mansion, if Jesus comes and calls other sheep that are not of this sheepfold, then how are we to think and live?
Shirley Guthrie, Presbyterian pastor and teacher, says this: If we look at non-Christians in light of God’s plan, we are permitted and required to believe that God is for them too- that God loves them, that God desires their salvation, too, that God works in their lives and in the world around them. It is not their unbelief and disobedience but the will and work of God in Jesus Christ that tells us what God’s attitude toward them is and will be. How can we Christians take non-Christians unbelief more seriously than we take what God has told us God plans and wills for them?
Rob Bell recently published a book called Love Wins. Rob Bell is a huge, huge big deal in the Emergent and Evangelical church. He is the founding pastor of Mars Hill Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan, a mega-mega church, by many people’s measure the mother ship of mega-churches, the epitome of success of what it means to be a Christian and a church. And in his book, Love Wins, Rob Bell writes that the church was doing a series of teachings on peacemaking, and having an art show, in which artists were to reflect on what it means to be a peacemaker. One of the artists chose to include a quote from Mahatma Gandhi in her work. A number of people found that quite compelling. But not everyone—someone attached a sticky note to the picture that said “Reality check: He’s in hell”.
And among Bell’s questions are: really? We have confirmation of this? Somebody knows this without a doubt?
Rob Bell is saying the same thing John Calvin and the early Westminster Confessions say: “We are to have a good hope for all”. We have that good hope because we rest in the graciousness, the wideness of God’s mercy.
Other sheep I have, that are not of this sheepfold. In my Father’s House there are many rooms, says Jesus.
But we also have Jesus’ words from this same passage- “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father but by me.”
Karl Barth, easily one of the most famous theologians of the 20th Century, was lecturing once to a group of students at Princeton University. One student asked him a question that has probably crossed your minds: "Sir", said the student, "don't you think that God has revealed himself in other religions and not only in
Christianity?" Barth's answer stunned the crowd. With a modest thunder he answered, "No, God has not revealed himself in any religion, including Christianity. He has revealed himself in his Son."
I am the way, Jesus said. The early Christians were not labeled “Christians”: they were called “People of the Way”. And what do we do, as people of the way? What do we do on our journey? Is heaven just a destination? Some of you may have heard that yesterday, May 21, was judgment day, according to Harold Camping. We understand that Jesus will come again—but that no one knows the hour, not the angels in heaven, not even the Son, only the Father. But we do rest in this relationship, this trust- Jesus says he has gone on ahead to prepare a place for us—and we trust him. So, as people relying on this trust, this relationship, living out this relationship, how do we live? Do we live out the Kingdom of God, right now, right here? The church is by definition the community of those who live by God’s forgiveness for guilty people. …It is the place where people can risk putting aside their defenses and masks, knowing that they will be accepted just as they are.
The truth is this: following Jesus means that we need one another in community, and that our life together is for the healing of the world. So what if this life we have in Jesus is as simple as sharing our lives and faith and serving people in our families, circle of friends, co-workers, and community.
Our life as Christians is this: the work we are called to is to help one another follow Jesus into the lives of people who are hungry and thirsty for life that is real and lasting. We offer others the same grace and love that has healed and changed our lives. Maybe, just maybe, this is how healing comes into a very broken world. And this is how Jesus intends for the Kingdom to advance.
Maybe, just maybe, that is what the church is called to be: a roomy place, a spacious place, where the wideness of God’s mercy, where the plenty good room of God is lived out for all the world to see. Amen.
In you, O LORD, I seek refuge; do not let me ever be put to shame; in your righteousness deliver me.
Incline your ear to me; rescue me speedily. Be a rock of refuge for me, a strong fortress to save me.
You are indeed my rock and my fortress; for your name’s sake lead me and guide me,
take me out of the net that is hidden for me, for you are my refuge.
Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O LORD, faithful God.
My times are in your hand; deliver me from the hand of my enemies and persecutors.
Let your face shine upon your servant; save me in your steadfast love.
This is the word of the Lord: Thanks be to God
We’ve all done it, I think- or at least been on the receiving end –that speech, those final words, that try to imbue all the information and wisdom we want to give someone- when we’re leaving the kids for the first time alone—“don’t burn down the place, don’t let anybody in the house, here’s 5$ if you need milk from the store…” or when the children go away: “don’t drive too fast, wear your seat belt, call when you get there…” or even when we are undergoing something unknown, a biopsy or medical procedure, the nurse makes sure to walk us through: “you’ll feel a pinch, and begin to feel a little sleepy, and then the dr will come in, and the next thing you know, you’ll wake up in the recovery room. You’ll be fine.” This morning’s text from John is just that: Part of Jesus’ final words to the disciples: Listen now, for the word of the Lord
John 14:1-14 p 877
14“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. 2In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? 3And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.
4And you know the way to the place where I am going.” 5Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” 6Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. 7If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.” 8Philip said to him, “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.” 9Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? 10Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. 11Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves.
12Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. 13I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. 14If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.
This is the word of the Lord……Thanks be to God
We want to know—we want to be prepared. Jesus will soon go away, and he is trying to reassure the disciples, trying to prepare them. “Do not let your hearts be troubled…” Don’t worry, Jesus says. Really- it’ll be okay- why? Because I am going ahead of you, and I am going to prepare a place for you.
This passage is frequently used at funerals. In my Father’s house there are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?”
Trust me Jesus says. In fact the word used for believe- “believe in God, believe also in me” is really better rendered as “trust”- a trust built on a relationship.
The disciples have a relationship with Jesus. They have been with him for a while, now. This morning’s passage is set after Palm Sunday, after the foot washing, while the disciples are still sitting at the table, but after Jesus has told the disciples about his impending death. They are starting to get nervous-why is he talking like that? What can he possibly mean? What is this talk about going away?
Thomas- and here I want to call him Realistic Thomas rather than Doubting Thomas, asks a common sense question- “Lord, we do not know where you are going” Makes sense. Sensible Thomas wants a road map- where are you going, and how are we going to get there? Where Jesus is going is much less than a destination, and much more of a way of being, however. And Thomas’ words are actually- “we are not able to know where you are going”. It’s not a cognitive, fact based knowing- we are unable to know where you are going-
And Jesus has compassion for them- “I am the way” he tells them. You already know me, Jesus tells them, and in that relationship is all you need to know.
Robert Jenson says that “God is not known by us because he/GOD is amenable to the exercise of our cognitive powers. In a word made flesh, God…is disclosed in the self-giving, self-emptying love that is God’s Son.
Many scholars think the Gospel of John has post-resurrection statements interpolated into the text. That means that the faithful community went back and put in after-Easter, post-death and post-resurrection words into the gospel text. So that Jesus, in saying to his followers, “If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself-“ is the Jesus who has already died, and been resurrected, has already defeated death and sin, has already been raised to glory- and has, indeed, come again to take them to himself.
And where does he appear? In the midst of them, the faithful community. The word “you” in this morning’s text is always plural- you, the disciples, the “all ya’ll” you, the whole church you- not just to one of us, but to all of us, together.
Because did you hear what Jesus had to say? “In my Father’s house are many rooms….” There’s an African-American gospel song, Plenty Good Room. There is a wideness in God’s mercy, another hymn says, like the wideness of the sea. Plenty good room, says the song, plenty good room in my Father’s kingdom. We are called to have that largeness of heart, we are called to make sure there is indeed plenty good room in the kingdom.
If this message to the early church, and to us, is that in God’s house there are lots of rooms, then there must be room for all kinds of people. And there are all kinds of jokes about this: that a Presbyterian dies, and goes to heaven, and is taken on a tour by St Peter—and they pass one room, and there’s all kinds of music and singing: “Oh, those are the Baptists” says St Peter, and they pass another room, and they can hear through the door chanting and smell incense “Oh, those are the Episcopalians” says St Peter. And they go down the hall, and they pass a room, and St Peter motions for the Presbyterian to be silent. “Shh…those are the (fill in the blank denomination here) they think they’re the only ones who got in”.
So what are we to do in this roomy, capacious kingdom? Many point to this text as the text that shows just how wide God’s mercy and grace are, and point to it as a way for us to respond, with grace, to people of other faiths. If God has room in his mansion, if Jesus comes and calls other sheep that are not of this sheepfold, then how are we to think and live?
Shirley Guthrie, Presbyterian pastor and teacher, says this: If we look at non-Christians in light of God’s plan, we are permitted and required to believe that God is for them too- that God loves them, that God desires their salvation, too, that God works in their lives and in the world around them. It is not their unbelief and disobedience but the will and work of God in Jesus Christ that tells us what God’s attitude toward them is and will be. How can we Christians take non-Christians unbelief more seriously than we take what God has told us God plans and wills for them?
Rob Bell recently published a book called Love Wins. Rob Bell is a huge, huge big deal in the Emergent and Evangelical church. He is the founding pastor of Mars Hill Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan, a mega-mega church, by many people’s measure the mother ship of mega-churches, the epitome of success of what it means to be a Christian and a church. And in his book, Love Wins, Rob Bell writes that the church was doing a series of teachings on peacemaking, and having an art show, in which artists were to reflect on what it means to be a peacemaker. One of the artists chose to include a quote from Mahatma Gandhi in her work. A number of people found that quite compelling. But not everyone—someone attached a sticky note to the picture that said “Reality check: He’s in hell”.
And among Bell’s questions are: really? We have confirmation of this? Somebody knows this without a doubt?
Rob Bell is saying the same thing John Calvin and the early Westminster Confessions say: “We are to have a good hope for all”. We have that good hope because we rest in the graciousness, the wideness of God’s mercy.
Other sheep I have, that are not of this sheepfold. In my Father’s House there are many rooms, says Jesus.
But we also have Jesus’ words from this same passage- “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father but by me.”
Karl Barth, easily one of the most famous theologians of the 20th Century, was lecturing once to a group of students at Princeton University. One student asked him a question that has probably crossed your minds: "Sir", said the student, "don't you think that God has revealed himself in other religions and not only in
Christianity?" Barth's answer stunned the crowd. With a modest thunder he answered, "No, God has not revealed himself in any religion, including Christianity. He has revealed himself in his Son."
I am the way, Jesus said. The early Christians were not labeled “Christians”: they were called “People of the Way”. And what do we do, as people of the way? What do we do on our journey? Is heaven just a destination? Some of you may have heard that yesterday, May 21, was judgment day, according to Harold Camping. We understand that Jesus will come again—but that no one knows the hour, not the angels in heaven, not even the Son, only the Father. But we do rest in this relationship, this trust- Jesus says he has gone on ahead to prepare a place for us—and we trust him. So, as people relying on this trust, this relationship, living out this relationship, how do we live? Do we live out the Kingdom of God, right now, right here? The church is by definition the community of those who live by God’s forgiveness for guilty people. …It is the place where people can risk putting aside their defenses and masks, knowing that they will be accepted just as they are.
The truth is this: following Jesus means that we need one another in community, and that our life together is for the healing of the world. So what if this life we have in Jesus is as simple as sharing our lives and faith and serving people in our families, circle of friends, co-workers, and community.
Our life as Christians is this: the work we are called to is to help one another follow Jesus into the lives of people who are hungry and thirsty for life that is real and lasting. We offer others the same grace and love that has healed and changed our lives. Maybe, just maybe, this is how healing comes into a very broken world. And this is how Jesus intends for the Kingdom to advance.
Maybe, just maybe, that is what the church is called to be: a roomy place, a spacious place, where the wideness of God’s mercy, where the plenty good room of God is lived out for all the world to see. Amen.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
I Am the Gate
1 Peter 2:1-10 p. 984
Rid yourselves, therefore, of all malice, and all guile, insincerity, envy, and all slander. 2Like newborn infants, long for the pure, spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow into salvation— 3if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good.
4Come to him, a living stone, though rejected by mortals yet chosen and precious in God’s sight, and 5like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. 6For it stands in scripture: “See, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious; and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.” 7To you then who believe, he is precious; but for those who do not believe, “The stone that the builders rejected has become the very head of the corner,” 8and “A stone that makes them stumble, and a rock that makes them fall.” They stumble because they disobey the word, as they were destined to do. 9But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. 10Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.
John 10: 1-16 p. 872
“Very truly, I tell you, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit. 2The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. 3The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. 4When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. 5They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they do not know the voice of strangers.” 6Jesus used this figure of speech with them, but they did not understand what he was saying to them. 7So again Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. 8All who came before me are thieves and bandits; but the sheep did not listen to them. 9I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. 10The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly. 11“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. 12The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away—and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. 13The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep. 14I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, 15just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep. 16I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.
In the Gospel of John, there are many “I AM” statements by Jesus. Jesus says “I am the bread of life”, “I am the living water”, “I am the light of the world”. All of them are statements that are life giving and life affirming, and all of them use ordinary objects drawn from everyday life, to begin to enter into the mystery that is Immanuel- God with us.
One of the most familiar I AM statements is Jesus saying “I am the Good Shepherd”. We have stained glass windows, artwork, hymns, that reflect this image. Those of us who know real-life shepherds (like Andy & Mary, or Anne & John Knight) see that this makes sense, and is a beautiful illustration of God’s love for us. We see from those human shepherds what care, what diligence a shepherd takes: out in all weather, making sure the fields contain nutritious grass and water, making sure the sheep are safe, that the lambs and mothers are alright, that there are no predators menacing the flock.
After talking about being a shepherd, Jesus uses another image: “Very truly, I tell you- I am the gate for the sheep,” however, inspires no art work, no stained glass windows, no hymns. It is not, at first, a really compelling image. It is hard even to imagine that. When Jim and I recently traveled in China, we experienced lots of gates: going through customs and immigration, in lines at gardens and at tourist attractions, even going through security at the Metro. There were a lot of gates, and all of them were designed to control, to restrict, people and the flow of traffic.
So the image of Jesus as a gate might seem strange, even unpleasant to us. It may help, though, to know that in Jesus’ day shepherds sometimes actually, physically were gates for the sheep. Out in the fields, a shepherd would make an enclosure—or rocks, or of brush and briars, and then, at night, would gather the sheep into the enclosure. The shepherd would lay down in the small opening, keeping the sheep in, and the predators out—literally becoming the gate for the sheep.
But if we are talking about Jesus as the gate, then what is the sheepfold? The sheepfold, historically, has been thought of as the church—a place of safety and refuge, a place of togetherness. The sheep, cared for by the shepherd, were safe from predators, and would be healthy and thrive.
One of the ways to begin to understand this text is to understand that in the Gospel of John, there is nearly always first a sign, a miracle, and then a discourse, an explanation. In this morning’s text that Jesus performed, is way back in John 9- we heard it in Lent- the story of the man born blind. If you remember, the man was cured of his blindness by Jesus, and then the man and his family were quizzed by the Pharisees, and then the man was cast out of the synagogue. This text, about Jesus as the gate- or, in Greek, door- is about a way for those early Christians, cast out of the synagogue, kicked out of their families, to find a home, to find safety, to find abundant life in Jesus.
But, if there is a door, or a gate, then there is also a fence, right? The way that we think about gates is that they are the opening in the fence. And Jesus tells the Pharisees, and the early church this: “Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture.” So the gate both lets in, and lets out. The gate both opens and closes, protects and sets free.
The church, the sheepfold, for many centuries, did something I find, if not abhorrent, then at least objectionable. It has to do with fencing and gates: it is commonly known as “fencing the table”. And it began, as most things do, with good intentions. Calvin, in Geneva, wanted to have the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper celebrated every Sunday. The problem, though, was that the elders were to examine all people before they came to partake of communion. Those elders had read 1 Corinthians, in which Paul writes to the church there, that “they eat and drink damnation unto themselves” if they do not take the Lord’s Supper in a worthy manner. By the way, Paul was talking about the rich people in the church in Corinth hogging all the food, before the poor working people and slaves could get off from work and come to church, which was held in the afternoon.
The elders took very, very seriously, that warning, and took very seriously their charge to care for the spiritual welfare of the church. All were to examine themselves, and the elders were to examine all members of the congregation. “How is it with your soul?” the elders would ask the members. Anyone continuing in “unrepented sin” would be excluded from the table—the table was “fenced”, for the good of the members. In some times and places, even up to the early 20th century, communion tokens were given to those declared worthy by the elders—and members presenting tokens on Sunday morning could join in communion. In other times and churches—and Jim and I grew up in one—the people were to “rightly examine themselves” in prayer the week before communion—there was an exhortation to self examination and confession that is still used today. Needless to say, this much examination and self examination took time—and communion was not celebrated weekly, as John Calvin had hoped.
The church has a different understanding now of eating at the Lord’s Table, and while we do exhort you all- us all- to confess and repent of any sin, we understand that Jesus the gate, opens to us the way of abundant life and righteousness. The door opens, and we go in and out, to find pasture.
But to go back to our metaphor, if Jesus is the gate, and the church has been seen as the sheepfold, I want to ask in what ways the church has been closing the gate? In what ways have we been fencing the table, fencing off access to Jesus, who brings abundant life? With our talk, in our gossip and our words? The writer of 1 Peter says this: “Rid yourselves, therefore, of all malice and all guile, insincerity, envy, and all slander.” Is it in our polity and life together? Or what we say after the meeting is over and we are in the parking lot?
Some of you may know, that this past year, the PCUSA has been voting, presbytery by presbytery, on changes to the Book of Order, and to the Book of Confessions, the two parts of our church’s constitution. Some of those changes are just boring, rearranging lines in the Book of Order that nobody really reads or cares about, you may think, and some of them are controversial.
Certainly the most controversial one is the one that deals with ordination standards: the wording proposed is “Standards for ordained service reflect the church’s desire to submit joyfully to the Lordship of Jesus Christ in all aspects of life (G-1.0000).” What is changed is any language about chastity in singleness and fidelity in marriage for those seeking to be ordained—words that are good in and of themselves, but were most often used to bar gays and lesbians from being ordained in the church. This past week, the 87th Presbytery voted yes on this amendment, meaning that two-thirds of the presbyteries in the PCUSA approved it, and it will become part of our Book of Order at the next General Assembly in 2012. I know there are some who welcome this change, and I know there are some who are opposed to it. But what I hope—no, what I pray for, is that we do not fence each other out. That we remain Christ’s church, one flock, one shepherd, listening to his voice calling us.
In a church wide letter to congregations everywhere, the General Assembly Staff- Cindy Bolbach, moderator, Gradye Parsons, Stated Clerk, and others, write this:
Reactions to this change will span a wide spectrum. Some will rejoice, while others will weep. Those who rejoice will see the change as an action, long in coming, that makes the PC(USA) an inclusive church that recognizes and receives the gifts for ministry of all those who feel called to ordained office. Those who weep will consider this change one that compromises biblical authority and acquiesces to present culture. The feelings on both sides run deep.
However, as Presbyterians, we believe that the only way we will find God’s will for the church is by seeking it together – worshiping, praying, thinking, and serving alongside one another. We are neighbors and colleagues, friends and family. Most importantly, we are all children of God, saved and taught by Jesus Christ, and filled with the Holy Spirit.
For here is an interesting thing: in the same discourse, in the same speech about being both gate and good shepherd, Jesus says this: “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them in also, and they will listen to my voice.” “Other sheep I have, that are not of this sheepfold” is the old translation. If Jesus is the gate, bringing in other sheep, sheep we don’t know, sheep we don’t recognize, sheep we don’t like, sheep who are different from us, sheep that we actively disagree with, if Jesus is opening the way for them, then who are we to stand in their way, who are we to close the gate? The unity of the church on this issue rests in our one Lord Jesus Christ, and not in our agreement or unanimity. We are one because we are bound to each other in Jesus Christ. We belong to each other because Christ has called us, and we belong to him. There will be voices that, in decrying this change in our Book of Order, declare that the time has come to break fellowship with those with whom they cannot agree . Let us all listen to the voice of Jesus, and be one flock, with one shepherd. Amen.
Rid yourselves, therefore, of all malice, and all guile, insincerity, envy, and all slander. 2Like newborn infants, long for the pure, spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow into salvation— 3if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good.
4Come to him, a living stone, though rejected by mortals yet chosen and precious in God’s sight, and 5like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. 6For it stands in scripture: “See, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious; and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.” 7To you then who believe, he is precious; but for those who do not believe, “The stone that the builders rejected has become the very head of the corner,” 8and “A stone that makes them stumble, and a rock that makes them fall.” They stumble because they disobey the word, as they were destined to do. 9But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. 10Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.
John 10: 1-16 p. 872
“Very truly, I tell you, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit. 2The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. 3The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. 4When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. 5They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they do not know the voice of strangers.” 6Jesus used this figure of speech with them, but they did not understand what he was saying to them. 7So again Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. 8All who came before me are thieves and bandits; but the sheep did not listen to them. 9I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. 10The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly. 11“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. 12The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away—and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. 13The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep. 14I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, 15just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep. 16I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.
In the Gospel of John, there are many “I AM” statements by Jesus. Jesus says “I am the bread of life”, “I am the living water”, “I am the light of the world”. All of them are statements that are life giving and life affirming, and all of them use ordinary objects drawn from everyday life, to begin to enter into the mystery that is Immanuel- God with us.
One of the most familiar I AM statements is Jesus saying “I am the Good Shepherd”. We have stained glass windows, artwork, hymns, that reflect this image. Those of us who know real-life shepherds (like Andy & Mary, or Anne & John Knight) see that this makes sense, and is a beautiful illustration of God’s love for us. We see from those human shepherds what care, what diligence a shepherd takes: out in all weather, making sure the fields contain nutritious grass and water, making sure the sheep are safe, that the lambs and mothers are alright, that there are no predators menacing the flock.
After talking about being a shepherd, Jesus uses another image: “Very truly, I tell you- I am the gate for the sheep,” however, inspires no art work, no stained glass windows, no hymns. It is not, at first, a really compelling image. It is hard even to imagine that. When Jim and I recently traveled in China, we experienced lots of gates: going through customs and immigration, in lines at gardens and at tourist attractions, even going through security at the Metro. There were a lot of gates, and all of them were designed to control, to restrict, people and the flow of traffic.
So the image of Jesus as a gate might seem strange, even unpleasant to us. It may help, though, to know that in Jesus’ day shepherds sometimes actually, physically were gates for the sheep. Out in the fields, a shepherd would make an enclosure—or rocks, or of brush and briars, and then, at night, would gather the sheep into the enclosure. The shepherd would lay down in the small opening, keeping the sheep in, and the predators out—literally becoming the gate for the sheep.
But if we are talking about Jesus as the gate, then what is the sheepfold? The sheepfold, historically, has been thought of as the church—a place of safety and refuge, a place of togetherness. The sheep, cared for by the shepherd, were safe from predators, and would be healthy and thrive.
One of the ways to begin to understand this text is to understand that in the Gospel of John, there is nearly always first a sign, a miracle, and then a discourse, an explanation. In this morning’s text that Jesus performed, is way back in John 9- we heard it in Lent- the story of the man born blind. If you remember, the man was cured of his blindness by Jesus, and then the man and his family were quizzed by the Pharisees, and then the man was cast out of the synagogue. This text, about Jesus as the gate- or, in Greek, door- is about a way for those early Christians, cast out of the synagogue, kicked out of their families, to find a home, to find safety, to find abundant life in Jesus.
But, if there is a door, or a gate, then there is also a fence, right? The way that we think about gates is that they are the opening in the fence. And Jesus tells the Pharisees, and the early church this: “Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture.” So the gate both lets in, and lets out. The gate both opens and closes, protects and sets free.
The church, the sheepfold, for many centuries, did something I find, if not abhorrent, then at least objectionable. It has to do with fencing and gates: it is commonly known as “fencing the table”. And it began, as most things do, with good intentions. Calvin, in Geneva, wanted to have the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper celebrated every Sunday. The problem, though, was that the elders were to examine all people before they came to partake of communion. Those elders had read 1 Corinthians, in which Paul writes to the church there, that “they eat and drink damnation unto themselves” if they do not take the Lord’s Supper in a worthy manner. By the way, Paul was talking about the rich people in the church in Corinth hogging all the food, before the poor working people and slaves could get off from work and come to church, which was held in the afternoon.
The elders took very, very seriously, that warning, and took very seriously their charge to care for the spiritual welfare of the church. All were to examine themselves, and the elders were to examine all members of the congregation. “How is it with your soul?” the elders would ask the members. Anyone continuing in “unrepented sin” would be excluded from the table—the table was “fenced”, for the good of the members. In some times and places, even up to the early 20th century, communion tokens were given to those declared worthy by the elders—and members presenting tokens on Sunday morning could join in communion. In other times and churches—and Jim and I grew up in one—the people were to “rightly examine themselves” in prayer the week before communion—there was an exhortation to self examination and confession that is still used today. Needless to say, this much examination and self examination took time—and communion was not celebrated weekly, as John Calvin had hoped.
The church has a different understanding now of eating at the Lord’s Table, and while we do exhort you all- us all- to confess and repent of any sin, we understand that Jesus the gate, opens to us the way of abundant life and righteousness. The door opens, and we go in and out, to find pasture.
But to go back to our metaphor, if Jesus is the gate, and the church has been seen as the sheepfold, I want to ask in what ways the church has been closing the gate? In what ways have we been fencing the table, fencing off access to Jesus, who brings abundant life? With our talk, in our gossip and our words? The writer of 1 Peter says this: “Rid yourselves, therefore, of all malice and all guile, insincerity, envy, and all slander.” Is it in our polity and life together? Or what we say after the meeting is over and we are in the parking lot?
Some of you may know, that this past year, the PCUSA has been voting, presbytery by presbytery, on changes to the Book of Order, and to the Book of Confessions, the two parts of our church’s constitution. Some of those changes are just boring, rearranging lines in the Book of Order that nobody really reads or cares about, you may think, and some of them are controversial.
Certainly the most controversial one is the one that deals with ordination standards: the wording proposed is “Standards for ordained service reflect the church’s desire to submit joyfully to the Lordship of Jesus Christ in all aspects of life (G-1.0000).” What is changed is any language about chastity in singleness and fidelity in marriage for those seeking to be ordained—words that are good in and of themselves, but were most often used to bar gays and lesbians from being ordained in the church. This past week, the 87th Presbytery voted yes on this amendment, meaning that two-thirds of the presbyteries in the PCUSA approved it, and it will become part of our Book of Order at the next General Assembly in 2012. I know there are some who welcome this change, and I know there are some who are opposed to it. But what I hope—no, what I pray for, is that we do not fence each other out. That we remain Christ’s church, one flock, one shepherd, listening to his voice calling us.
In a church wide letter to congregations everywhere, the General Assembly Staff- Cindy Bolbach, moderator, Gradye Parsons, Stated Clerk, and others, write this:
Reactions to this change will span a wide spectrum. Some will rejoice, while others will weep. Those who rejoice will see the change as an action, long in coming, that makes the PC(USA) an inclusive church that recognizes and receives the gifts for ministry of all those who feel called to ordained office. Those who weep will consider this change one that compromises biblical authority and acquiesces to present culture. The feelings on both sides run deep.
However, as Presbyterians, we believe that the only way we will find God’s will for the church is by seeking it together – worshiping, praying, thinking, and serving alongside one another. We are neighbors and colleagues, friends and family. Most importantly, we are all children of God, saved and taught by Jesus Christ, and filled with the Holy Spirit.
For here is an interesting thing: in the same discourse, in the same speech about being both gate and good shepherd, Jesus says this: “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them in also, and they will listen to my voice.” “Other sheep I have, that are not of this sheepfold” is the old translation. If Jesus is the gate, bringing in other sheep, sheep we don’t know, sheep we don’t recognize, sheep we don’t like, sheep who are different from us, sheep that we actively disagree with, if Jesus is opening the way for them, then who are we to stand in their way, who are we to close the gate? The unity of the church on this issue rests in our one Lord Jesus Christ, and not in our agreement or unanimity. We are one because we are bound to each other in Jesus Christ. We belong to each other because Christ has called us, and we belong to him. There will be voices that, in decrying this change in our Book of Order, declare that the time has come to break fellowship with those with whom they cannot agree . Let us all listen to the voice of Jesus, and be one flock, with one shepherd. Amen.
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