Monday, March 28, 2011

Sermon March 27

Exodus 17:1-7 p56
From the wilderness of Sin the whole congregation of the Israelites journeyed by stages, as the LORD commanded. They camped at Rephidim, but there was no water for the people to drink. 2The people quarreled with Moses, and said, “Give us water to drink.” Moses said to them, “Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you test the LORD?” 3But the people thirsted there for water; and the people complained against Moses and said, “Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?” 4So Moses cried out to the LORD, “What shall I do with this people? They are almost ready to stone me.” 5The LORD said to Moses, “Go on ahead of the people, and take some of the elders of Israel with you; take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go. 6I will be standing there in front of you on the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it, so that the people may drink.” Moses did so, in the sight of the elders of Israel. 7He called the place Massah and Meribah, because the Israelites quarreled and tested the LORD, saying, “Is the LORD among us or not?”






Last week we saw and heard the story of Nicodemus. This week we hear the story of another person’s encounter with Jesus. They could not be more different: Nicodemus is a leader, a Pharisee, a powerful man, who comes to see Jesus in the middle of the night. The woman at the well is a nobody, we don’t even know her name; she is a Samaritan, hated by the Jews, and she is out at the well in the middle of the day. An unusual time to be out, getting water. In the Middle East, water is usually collected in the morning, and again just before sunset. Not in the bright light of mid- day. But that is when the woman is out, and it is where she meets Jesus.
Now, in the Bible, when a man and a woman meet at a well, the story usually resolves in a marriage. Isaac’s future wife, Rebekkah, was identified at a well. And this well is called Jacob’s well, because it is where Jacob met Rachel. But these two, will not be getting married. In fact, Jesus quizzes the woman about her marital status—or rather tells her about her whole history. She has had five husbands, and is living with another man now, who is not her husband. This story is often told this way: that of a woman, a sinful woman, who goes to the well at the middle of the day, because of her shameful past. And her past is full of shame—but not because of her sin. In that time and place, woman had no power, and could be divorced for something as heart rending as infertility, or as small as burning dinner. So this woman has been widowed, or divorced, or some combination of the two, and is now living with a man—it is thought to be a levirate marriage, in which she lives with her brother-in-law, who has refused to marry her. She has, it seems, no male relatives to speak up and protect her. She has no rights, she is helpless in this situation and society. She is an outsider on all sides. And this woman, a nobody, a non-person, is seen by Jesus. Really seen by him.
The text tells us that Jesus was traveling, and that “he had to go through Samaria”. He was traveling from Judea to Galilee- geographically, he did not have to go through Samaria in the north. Faithful Jews did whatever they could to avoid going through Samaria. Jesus had to go there to show God’s love.
And they begin a conversation. Here is the one place this encounter is like Nicodemus’. An ordinary conversation turns into something confusing, and words mean more than they appear to mean. There is talk about water—simple enough on the outside—they are at a well, after all—but then there is talk about “living water”-which can mean flowing water, or fresh water. In the Jewish tradition, the mikvah is the cleansing waters used for purification. And the rabbis still use the same term-“living water”—today. And while the waters of the mikvah are used for purification, they also are used to prepare people when they encounter God—Orthodox men go to the mikvah to wash, every morning, before going to temple for morning prayer.
And whether the woman was prepared or not, she encountered God at the well. Jesus told the woman “all that she had done”—and everything that had been done to her. She calls him a prophet, and begins what is a theological discussion with him. Note how this is different from Nicodemus: his only question was “How can this be?” The woman engages Jesus in God talk. And then, Jesus gives her a gift, for her questioning and her newly springing faith: Jesus reveals himself to her, as the Messiah: I AM, he says to her, the words God spoke out of the burning Bush, to Moses. He reveals himself to a loser, a rejected woman, an outsider—not even a Jew. She goes back to the town, and uses the same words Jesus spoke when he called the disciples to follow him—“Come and See”—and then asks: “He cannot be the Messiah, can he?” as if she cannot believe that this is what God is like, as if her life of hurt and disappointment have warned her not to hope. But as a pledge of her new life, her new identity, and her new faith, she leaves behind the water jug at the well. She knows that life will not be the same, now that she has had this encounter.
What is not at first glance apparent to us is how Jesus broke social and cultural boundaries to minister to this woman. In the Middle East, still, men do not speak to women they do not know—they don’t even make eye contact. Ken Bailey, Professor at Pittsburgh Seminary, who grew up and then taught in the Middle East for decades, said that he never, ever, passed that line. Orthodox rabbis do not even speak to their wives in public. It is not done. By social custom, Jesus, seeing her approach the well, should have withdrawn to a respectable distance away. And for a Jew to speak to a Samaritan- well, that might be an even bigger obstacle. The Samaritans were hated by the Jews, were thought to be half-breed traitors, who did not worship God correctly, who joined worship of Yahweh with worship of Greek and local gods. They were outside of the covenant, outside of God’s care.
Last week, we talked about how in John 3:16- for God so loved the world, and the word cosmos, which in the gospel of John is the God-hating world. God loves even the Samaritans, even a woman, even an outsider, enough to go out of his way to meet her. And look what she becomes: she is the first female preacher: She goes and tells. She gives her invitation: come and see- she gives her testimony, her experience- “a man who told me everything” and then she gives her confession: “He cannot be the Messiah, can he?” Now, granted……that may not sound like the most solid, affirmative confession of faith. But look at her pattern of growth: she moves from calling Jesus first “a Jew”, then “sir”, then a prophet (and remember, last week, Nicodemus called Jesus rabbi, teacher, putting Nicodemus and Jesus on the same level) to naming Jesus as the Messiah. And we are told that “many Samaritans believed in Jesus because of the women’s testimony”.
The Israelites, traveling through the desert, asked, Is the Lord among us, or not? They were thirsty, and tired, and out in the desert. Is the Lord among us, or not? It is the same question we ask whenever we are troubled, anxious, or grieving. Is the Lord among us, or not? We ask this as people of faith, and we ask this as a community of faith, as a church. After the woman’s testimony, calling people to come and meet the Lord, Jesus stayed with the Samaritans—enemies of the Jews—enemies of God, people who did not worship God rightly, who were outside the covenant. And Jesus, God, the Messiah, stayed there with them. Is the Lord among us, or not? God in Jesus was truly among the Samaritans. At the end of today’s passage, it is the Samaritans, those hated by the Jews, the enemies of God, who confess “we know that this truly is the Savior of the world.”
The world is thirsty. One of the amazing things about thirst is this: you are dehydrated a half hour before you even begin to feel thirsty. The same is true for our souls, our hearts, ourselves, as well, I think. We are dry inside, long before we know that we are thirsty. Jesus is the living water, water that overflows, water that brings eternal and new life.
There is a group called Living Waters of the World, which works in partnership with many Presbyteries of the national Presbyterian Church. They train and develop teams that not only bring clean water technology to needed areas, but also train and empower local people to maintain and develop clean water strategies onsite. On Palm Sunday, we will receive the One Great Hour of Sharing offering, part of which goes to Presbyterian Disaster Assistance—and we heard last week that monies from that fund have already been spent to provide clean, safe drinking water in Japan. Water is vitally important—we will die without it. We, who live so close to the lake, who simply turn on our taps, who hear the falls overflowing onto the roadway, who do not have to walk miles each way to scoop out dirty and contaminated water to bring back to our children—we are far removed from that well in Samaria, and from thirsty people all over the world. But we have been given the gift of living water in Jesus Christ, just like that woman at the well.
You know that Jim and I sometimes do “wondering questions” about the Scripture with the children. This is based on work by Sonya Stewart, who I had the privilege to study with. And Dr Stewart’s understanding is that when we come to Scripture, there are often no “right” answers- we all stand before the Word of God in awe and wonder—that the encounter with God is not something to be learned, and mastered, and then filed away, but is something we wonder about, over and over, because, by the power of the Holy Spirit, it is the living Word. I believe that’s what the Samaritan woman’s life must have been like, after—wonder and awe, at her encounter with Jesus. So I’d like us to wonder a bit today, about this story.
I wonder what you are thirsty for? I wonder about living water. I wonder what we do with such a gift. I wonder who is an outsider for us? I wonder who has God come for? I wonder, as the church, the body of Christ—how is the Lord among us? I wonder who are we called to love, and to be poured out for, and who are we called to be living water for?

Sermon March 20

Genesis 12:1-4 p. 8
. 12Now the LORD said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. 2I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. 3I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.”
4So Abram went, as the LORD had told him; and Lot went with him. Abram was seventy-five years old when he departed from Haran.

This is the Word of the Lord…….Thanks be to God

In the weeks of Lent, we will be hearing the stories of people who heard Jesus’ message, who saw Immanuel, God with us. Here is the story of Nicodemus, taken from the Gospel according to John

John 3:1-17 p. 863
Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. 2He came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.” 3Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” 4Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” 5Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. 6What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. 7Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ 8The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” 9Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” 10Jesus answered him, “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things? 11“Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. 12If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? 13No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. 14And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, 15that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. 16“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. 17“Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. 18Those that believe in Him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. 19And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. 20For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. 21But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.
This is the word of the Lord…..Thanks be to God


It was a dark and stormy night. At least, it was dark night outside, and inside Nicodemus’ heart…..pretty stormy. For Nicodemus goes to Jesus in the night, under cover of darkness. Nicodemus has a lot to lose, if he is seen consorting with Jesus. Nicodemus is a pillar of the community: a Pharisee, meaning he is educated, revered, a kind of lawyer, an expert on the Bible. And he is a member of the Sanhedrin-the ruling party in politics. So he can’t be seen talking with Jesus. It just wouldn’t be right. It just isn’t done.
And yet—and yet, there is something there. Nicodemus is drawn to Jesus. Nicodemus has seen Jesus in the Temple. He has seen the signs performed—and in the gospel of John, signs are the miracles God gives—and signs are also evidence, pointers to who Jesus is. So Nicodemus has seen the evidence, and he is so close—he says to Jesus “no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God”. He is so close—but he just can’t bring himself to say it. Just prior to this, other people have seen Jesus in the Temple, and we are told “many believed in his name because they saw the signs that he was doing”.

Perhaps it was also night when Abram heard God’s call. I imagine Abram, unable to sleep, looking out of his tent flap, at all of the stars of heaven. And he hears God’s voice. God calls him to give up everything—his land, his inheritance, his people—to go—where? To a land, an unnamed land, that God will show him. And, then, God tells Abram that he will be both blessed—and a blessing to others. Through you, God says, all the families of the earth will be blessed. So, Abram goes. Abram risks a lot—his whole life, in fact. And all the families of the earth, being blessed by an old, childless couple, seems to me no more astonishing than talk of being born again. The apostle Paul talks about Abraham, and says that “Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness.” (Romans 4:3). Abram believes God, and obeys, and goes.

So after hearing about Abram, I’m a little frustrated by Nicodemus. Really—I want to say- really? You have seen the signs, you are intrigued enough to risk going to see Jesus in person, and yet….you just can’t believe. You just can’t make that jump. Jon Walton says Nicodemus is like someone buying a car, kicking the tires, even taking the car out for a spin, but just not quite ready to sign the contract. We might describe Nicodemus as “spiritual, but not religious”. What is getting in the way? I want to ask Nicodemus. How much evidence do you need? How many signs? What are you afraid of--your family? Your job? Your community? Prestige and status? Are you afraid of losing your reserved parking space near the Temple?

But then, I remember that the gospel of John is understood to have been written at a time when Christians were getting thrown out of the synagogue. The first Christians in that place were first, Jews, who had come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah. And they wanted to stay where they were, remain Jews, but also worship Christ. And the synagogue was not having any part of that. They were thrown out, cut off from family, disowned by all who knew them and loved them and could not understand just what they saw in this Jesus guy.

So in some ways, the depiction of Nicodemus is sympathetic—knowing the back story, we can perhaps understand why he comes to Jesus under cover of darkness.

But I also am a little frustrated with Jesus here. Nicodemus comes to him, and begins a conversation, begins opening up—and Jesus then answers a question that is not asked and starts talking about Spirit and flesh and wind…..in ways that make no sense at all. And he talks about being born again. Or being born from above. Or being born anew. The word means all three of those things. So it’s no wonder Nicodemus is confused. And Jesus even throws Nicodemus a bone: “No one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above” So Jesus is giving Nicodemus an in—Nicodemus is already beginning to see the kingdom of God—he just—can’t quite…make himself say it. There is a story about a farmer out in Iowa, who got married. And he had a pretty little wife, a good wife…and he loved her. He loved her so much, one day he almost told her. Nicodemus is right on the cusp of believing, and saying……and he’s not quite there.
And then, after all this confusing talk about being born, and wind and Spirit and the Son of Man being lifted up, Nicodemus asks what is an entirely reasonable question: in fact, it is the same question Mary, Jesus’ mother, asked when she was confronted with the angel “how can this be?”
And Jesus turns to Nicodemus—not to shame him, but with love, and humor, and compassion: “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you don’t understand these things?” Well- here’s the deep irony—these are not things to understand, these are not things to learn and digest and memorize, like facts—the wind blows where it will, you must be born from above…..they are things to believe, things not of reason, and thinking, but things of the Spirit and the heart. And then, Jesus says this, this phrase that we all memorized, that we see on placards and posters at football games and at roadsides…..John 3:16-
A saying that is so true, and so radical, that we, like Nicodemus, can’t understand it- “God so loved the world, that He gave his only son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish, but have eternal life.” And then the next verse, which doesn’t make it onto the posters- “For God did not send his Son into the world to judge the world—the Greek word for judge there is krisis- like crisis,--not to judge the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” Jesus always creates a crisis for those he encounters by calling from them one of two responses: either belief or unbelief. And Nicodemus was certainly having a crisis, that night.
Kosmos—is the word we know as cosmos, or world, or universe—but in Biblical speak, and especially in the gospel of John, “cosmos” is all who are against God and against Jesus Christ. The enemies of God. The unbelievers. Even—perhaps especially--the ones who threw the early Christians out of the synagogue, who cut them off, who refused to have anything to do with them.
This is how much God loves us. God sent Jesus into the world, in order that the world—the God hating world—might be saved through him. But rebellious, sinful, prideful people—us-- kept getting it wrong, rejecting God, keep choosing darkness rather than light. God tried with a most unlikely pair- Abram and Sarai, called from far away, childless, to be a blessing to all the families of the earth. And in Jesus, we see God’s great love for the whole world again. God’s astonishing love lifted up, on the cross, and then, lifted up, again, in resurrection and new life.
We do not know, really, just what Nicodemus chose. He came, and left, in darkness. But I do wonder, and hope. Later in the gospel, he gives a half-hearted defense of Jesus to the Pharisees. And he, with Joseph of Arimathea, who is described as a secret believer, brings myrrh and aloe to the tomb, to bury Jesus. Some think that Nicodemus’ bringing such an exorbitant amount of spices to bury the body- nearly 100 pounds! showed his lack of faith, his inability to look for a resurrection. But perhaps it was a gift of extravagant price, much like the woman who poured out the nard, that expensive lotion, on Jesus’ feet. Perhaps his acts of defending Jesus and bringing spices to the tomb were acts of love and devotion and apology and faith.
But whatever Nicodemus chose, God sent Jesus for him. And for us. Perhaps there are many ways of coming to believe. For isn’t that what the gospel of John says, near the very end?
John 20:30-31 30 Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. 31 But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.
Perhaps Nicodemus was coming to believe…..was being born from above. How can this be? We want to ask. We have no “born again” moment in Nicodemus’ life, that we know of. We hear no testimony about his “moment of salvation.” And Jesus has pretty strong words to say about people who love darkness rather than light. But Jesus reminds us the Spirit of God blows where it will…..which is good news, for us who are in darkness, who are in dark and stormy nights, who are constantly in need of being born again, being born from above. Amen

Sunday, March 13, 2011

sermon March 13

Genesis 2:15-17, 3:1-7 p 2
15The LORD God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it.
16And the LORD God commanded the man, “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden; 17but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die.”
3Now the serpent was more crafty than any other wild animal that the LORD God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God say, ‘You shall not eat from any tree in the garden’?” 2The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden; 3but God said, ‘You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the middle of the garden, nor shall you touch it, or you shall die.’“ 4But the serpent said to the woman, “You will not die; 5for God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”
6So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate; and she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate. 7Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths for themselves.
This is the Word of the Lord…..Thanks be to God
Matthew 4:1-11 (a reading from Scripture…Listen now, to the Word of the Lord)

(script)



Jesus was out in the wilderness. Led there by the Spirit, immediately after his baptism in the Jordan River. The same Spirit who came down as a dove, while a voice from heaven said “This is my Son, the beloved…” has sent him out into the wilderness.

And now Jesus is out in the desert, and has been fasting for forty days. And he is famished. Satan, the deceiver comes to him. And with subtle words, reasonable words, begins…..”IF……iffff” If you are the Son of God”…….asking about what God has just said.

So soon? The questions and the doubt and the deceit begin so soon- “if you are the son of God”
God has just declared, loudly, and publicly, that Jesus is the Son of God, and beloved, and that God is well pleased with him. The deceiver is trying hard, with seductive words, with reasonable questions, even quoting Scripture at Jesus, to get under Jesus’ skin and raise—even just a little—a question about what God has said, to get in between—even just a little- the relationship between Christ and the Father.

Remember the snake in the garden……God has told the humans in the garden that “they may freely eat of every tree of the garden”….and the serpent begins, asking “Did God say “you shall not eat from any tree in the garden?....” No! that’s not what God said. God told the humans, the man and woman, that they may freely eat of every tree….except for one tree. The deceiver is already, so soon in paradise, asking, with subtle words, with reasonable questions, about what God had said.

This, I think, is the essence of sin—listening to a voice other than God’s. Not a list of behaviors, not a grocery list of actions you’ve done this past week that you are sorry for—argued with your sister, had unkind thoughts about your spouse, didn’t return the overpayment of change that you received in the store. No—sin is about our own, internal state—a state of turning to and listening to anything that is not God.

We have talked a lot, this year, about baptism. In baptism, we are marked by God, given our identity, claimed as Christ’s own forever. We are marked by water and by Spirit. But very soon, after our baptism, we are out in the wilderness, and the questions begin…about who we are, and whose we are. About what God has said about us. Are we really children of God? Has God really claimed us? Does God’s love extend to us—to me, even to me, we ask—or, rather, the voice of the deceiver, inside our head, does.

This is the season of Lent. We begin the season of Lent by being marked, once again. Instead of water, though, we are marked by ashes. Symbols of repentance, and grief, but also a reminder of what we are made of, a reminder of our mortality.
Lent is traditionally thought of as a time of penitence, and sacrifice. What are you giving up for Lent? we ask one another. Chocolate, we say, or facebook, or beer. Some people choose to take things on instead of giving things up: more bible reading, or a discipline of daily prayer, or making a donation to the food pantry for each of the 40 days of lent.

The word discipline reminds us of rules, and punishment, maybe even getting whacked over the knuckles with a ruler. But discipline is related to the word “disciple” that is, one who follows. The disciplines of Lent help us follow in the way of Christ. The disciplines of Lent help us tune out the voice of the deceiver, and focus on the voice of God who claims us as a beloved child.

These "sacrifices," the disciplines, are not intended as good works offered by us to God; rather, they are God's gifts to us to remind us who we are, God's beloved children, so priceless that God was willing to go to any length -- or, more appropriately, to any depth -- to tell us that we are loved, that we have value, that we have purpose.
And these disciplines are to get us back to where we started— claimed by God. They are a way to silence any voice but God’s in our hearts. Adam and Eve, listening to the snake, forgot whose they are. They forget who they are. They listened to the voice that asks whether God is trustworthy….whether what God says is true.

When we hear this story of Jesus in the wilderness, of Jesus and temptation, we often think “I want to imitate Jesus. He resisted temptations, so I will too.” Temptations are not once and done. Jesus resisted temptation, but struggled with them again, in Gethsemane, and at the cross. Our life as Christians does not eliminate doubt, or need, or a sense of incompleteness. As humans, as heirs of Adam and Eve, we will inevitably fall short in claiming our God-given identity. We will listen to voices that question our relationship with God. Yet Jesus has triumphed at the cross, committing himself, and us-- to God. Therefore, when we fall short, we confess our failings, and trust that in and through the crucified and risen Jesus we have the promise of forgiveness and new life. A life of discipleship is turning, again and again—and again—toward Jesus, who is Lord, and turning away from anything that is not God. In the baptism liturgy, we ask “Do you turn from the ways of sin and renounce evil and its power in the world?” But it is a daily turning, sometimes a moment by moment turning. Eugene Peterson, author of The Message, calls it “a long obedience in the same direction”. And we are strengthened for this turning away from, and turning to Christ, by disciplines—or prayer, of fasting, of repentance, of intentional acts of love and mercy.

In the wilderness, Jesus triumphed. He did not forget who he was or whose he was. He did not listen to that voice—reasonable and seductive—that called to him. In our wilderness, whatever that looks like, we are still God’s. Marked by God in water and Spirit. Made out of dust. But joined to Christ forever. Because Christ has triumphed, we are given strength to turn to God. Again and again. Amen.

note: quotes by David Lose, www.workingpreacher.org

sermon

sermon march 6

Exodus 24:12-18 p61/92 childrens’ bible
12The LORD said to Moses, “Come up to me on the mountain, and wait there; and I will give you the tablets of stone, with the law and the commandment, which I have written for their instruction.” 13So Moses set out with his assistant Joshua, and Moses went up into the mountain of God. 14To the elders Moses had said, “Wait here for us, until we come to you again; for Aaron and Hur are with you; whoever has a dispute may go to them.” 15Then Moses went up on the mountain, and the cloud covered the mountain. 16The glory of the LORD settled on Mount Sinai, and the cloud covered it for six days; on the seventh day he called to Moses out of the cloud. 17Now the appearance of the glory of the LORD was like a devouring fire on the top of the mountain in the sight of the people of Israel. 18Moses entered the cloud, and went up on the mountain. Moses was on the mountain for forty days and forty nights. This is the word of the Lord….thanks be to God

Today is Transfiguration Sunday. It is a weird sort of Sunday. We rarely—if ever—use the word “transfiguration” in regular conversation, and this day appears at the tail end of Epiphany and just before Lent. On this day we hear the story about Jesus up on the mountain, and the cloud of glory, and the people who show up there. A strange story, that, frankly, we don’t really know what to do with.

But that’s the way it seems when God shows up. We don’t have words, we don’t have ideas, we babble foolishly like Peter. We say things like “I don’t know how to tell you this, but I heard Gods voice, plain as day, when I was driving home the other night” or “I’ve never told anyone this, but when I was out on the water, I had something like a dream” or we say “The Lord has put this on my heart, and I don’t know why….”, or we say things like “I don’t know why, I just keeping thinking about this” but what we really mean is we are beginning to see what the Lord God is calling us to do…….

Listen, now, for the transfiguring word of the Lord……


Matthew 17:1-9 p. 798/1132
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.” And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone. As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, “Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.”

This story appears every year in our cycle of readings, and in the Gospel of Matthew, it is decidedly strange—or at least, otherworldly. For the Gospel according to Matthew is concerned, a lot, about behavior. How are we to behave, as the people of God? What does a life of gratitude and obedience look like? And yet, in this passage, we don’t really see any behavioral guidelines. We see Peter proposing to go camping, apparently, with Jesus and Elijah and Moses, of all people, and then we see the disciples falling down in fear, and then Jesus, walking down the mountain with the disciples, telling them not to say anything to anyone—as if they could! As if they could find words to explain what had happened there, on top of Old Smoky—“Tell no one about the vision until after—after—the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” So now they have not only the burden of not telling what happened, but also in wondering and worrying about what that could possibly mean—AFTER the Son of Man is raised from the dead.
In a little while, we will receive the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper—communion. We will be joined to Christ, who is the one who calls us to this table. We will be here, in our pews, eating bread and drinking grape juice that was made by people we know and love. Many of us, perhaps, envy Peter and the disciples: At least, I do. I think: Oh, if only I could have been on that mountaintop that day! Oh, if only God would speak so clearly to me! And nearly all of us have heard someone’s testimony, that they saw the face of God, or that they had a miraculous experience of the divine—while hiking, or on the water, or at camp. And those of us who don’t have that, who are not sure we have ever had that, feel left out and little lonely. John Calvin wrote, however, that in the Lord’s Supper, by the power and the grace of the Holy Spirit, we are lifted up—to the very presence of Jesus, that we are joined to Christ--that in this feast we experience a foretaste of the banquet in the Kingdom of God. Here. In our ordinary lives, in our ordinary pews.
Remember, earlier in Matthew, Jesus has told the crowds “the kingdom of heaven has come near…” On that mountaintop, the kingdom of heaven had come near—in fire and cloud, in glory and voice.….and it nearly knocked over Peter and John and James with fright. It was Jesus who reassured them, Jesus who put his hand on them, Jesus who said to them “Be raised up and do not fear”. When all is over -- when Moses and Elijah are gone, the voice is quiet, Jesus' face and clothing have returned to normal, and the disciples are left in holy awe -- all that is left is Jesus. Whatever all these signs and symbols may have meant, the disciples are once again with their Lord, their teacher, their friend. Jesus, the one whose clothes and face shone like the sun, the one equal to Moses and Elijah, the one whom the very heavens proclaim as God's own beloved Son, will not leave them. He is the one who accompanies them down the mountain, into the valleys and storms and potholes and daily life.
In the Exodus story, Moses is commanded “to go up”. In the Transfiguration story, we are told, Jesus “led them up”, that is, Peter and James and John. But what is striking is that in each story, the word used is related to offering up a sacrifice. In the communion prayer, we say “we offer our very selves to you, to be a living and holy sacrifice….” We are offering up who we are, and all that we are—and are not. Perhaps this is what transfiguring means. Perhaps this is what listening to the voice of God means: that we see ourselves, our lives, in a new way- a way of offering to God our very own ordinary selves.
The Apostle Paul says, "All of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another, for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit" (2 Cor. 3:18).
God comes to us here, in ordinary things- in water, and in prayer that is breath. In community, together. In bread, and grape juice, at a table set by human hands, but a table at which God in Christ comes, and lifts us up, and feeds us. We are being transformed. So we offer ourselves up, and are lifted up.
Amen.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Don't Worry, Be Thankful!

Isaiah 49:8-16a
8 Thus says the LORD:
In a time of favor I have answered you,
on a day of salvation I have helped you;
I have kept you and given you
as a covenant to the people,
to establish the land,
to apportion the desolate heritages;
9 saying to the prisoners, “Come out,”
to those who are in darkness, “Show yourselves.”
They shall feed along the ways,
on all the bare heights shall be their pasture;
10 they shall not hunger or thirst,
neither scorching wind nor sun shall strike them down,
for he who has pity on them will lead them,
and by springs of water will guide them.
11 And I will turn all my mountains into a road,
and my highways shall be raised up.
12 Lo, these shall come from far away,
and lo, these from the north and from the west,
and these from the land of Syene.

13 Sing for joy, O heavens, and exult, O earth;
break forth, O mountains, into singing!
For the LORD has comforted his people,
and will have compassion on his suffering ones.

14 But Zion said, “The LORD has forsaken me,
my Lord has forgotten me.”
15 Can a woman forget her nursing child,
or show no compassion for the child of her womb?
Even these may forget,
yet I will not forget you.
16 See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands;


Matthew 6:24-34
24“No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.
25“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? 26Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? 27And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? 28And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, 29yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. 30But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you — you of little faith? 31Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ 32For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 33But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.
34”So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”

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I guess I’m a failure.

I worry. I worry about our older son who graduates in May. I worry about our younger son who’s trying to find a teaching job. I worry about the sermon each week. I worry about our church in the winter months when so many are away or unable to get out of the house.

Frankly, there are plenty of things to worry about. We worry about the economy. We worry whether our job is secure. Or we worry if we’re ever going to find a job. We worry about paying the bills. We worry as we watch prices go up, including the price of gas. We worry about our child struggling in school or hoping to get into college. We worry about a loved one who was diagnosed with cancer. We worry we will never be able to retire.

And the world feeds our worry. Our flight to and from New Jersey for study leave was a constant reminder of reasons to worry between regular announcements and passing through security checkpoints. The daily news bombards us with images of troubles from around the world, and here at home. Commercials invite us to worry about one more thing (usually about ourselves). They, of course, have the solution to our worries.

Nancy & I have a friend who works part-time at a retail clothing store. Recently all of the store’s employees were pulled into a meeting and told to convince customers they need to buy more, especially more expensive items. Yes, spending money is how to stimulate the economy. But he found that pep talk hard to swallow when he saw people with signs asking for food and money on the way home from work.

Yes, there are lots to worry about. And much of it is legitimate. We care about our families, our friends, our health, our future. So to hear Jesus say, “Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or … what you will wear,” well…

I’m annoyed. Jesus’ words just seem so unrealistic. I’d like to think life in the first century wasn’t so complicated, that they had less to worry about. But the truth is they had plenty to worry about. Just different things like disease, poverty, wars. I wonder how many of Jesus’ disciples rolled their eyes when they heard him say “Do not worry…?”

I’m also a little ashamed. We’ve all met people who have shared their stories of how God provided when they were down to their last dollar. And I suspect most of us can recall our own experiences of receiving God’s timely blessing. Nancy & I took a big risk leaving our jobs, following a call into ministry, and God has led us happily to this place. Why then is it so hard to worry less and trust God more day after day?

Perhaps, the reason is we hear conflicting messages. There’s Jesus’ message of trusting God to provide and there’s the world’s message of trusting what you can accumulate for yourself. Which message will we follow? That’s basically Jesus’ opening statement. “No one can serve two masters… You cannot serve God and wealth.”

Despite what you may have heard in the past, Jesus isn’t saying money is evil or bad. It’s a question of where we put our trust, our allegiance, and money turns out to be a poor Lord and master. Once we believe that money can satisfy our deepest needs, we discover that we never have enough. Money, after all, is finite. And so once we decide money grants security, then we find ourselves in a world of counting, and tracking, and hoarding. It’s a world based on scarcity. No wonder we worry – because in that world, there is simply never enough.

The alternative Jesus invites us to consider is putting out trust, our allegiance in God. The God who is infinite, whose love for us and all creation is infinite as well. Love operates from a different "economy" than money. Love – God's love – cannot be counted, tracked or stockpiled. And when you live in this kind of relationship of love and trust, you've entered into a world of abundance, a world of possibility, a world of contentment. In this world, which Jesus calls the "kingdom of God," not worrying becomes a real choice. We can choose to act in ways that witness to this world. Instead of images of scarcity, worry, and fear, we can choose to reflect abundance, trust, and courage. (1)

Many of you look out for our elderly neighbors, and bring them Thursdays to our Office for the Aging luncheon. Think also about being a mentor to one of our youth. Bring items for our food pantry next week when we celebrate communion. That was one of the early practices in the church. Instead of one person supplying bread and juice, everyone brought a portion of what they had, some of their harvest, some of their food, to the table. A portion was used for communion. The rest was given after the service to the poor in the community. These are ways we can be salt and light to the world, helping others to relax, to breathe, to count their blessings, and to trust in God's providence.

This is the world Jesus invites us into: a world of abundance, generosity, and new life. But it is also a world of fragility, trust, and vulnerability. The birds of the air and the lilies of the field can't defend themselves. They must trust God's providence and love.

Worry is a part of life. Even Jesus says, “Today’s trouble is enough for today.” What isn't a part of life is to believe it's all up to me or us, that I or we are in control. Do we want to live in a world in which God is in control or we are? Frankly, the latter scares me, exhausts me, and drains the life out of me. Jesus invites us to let it go, redirect your energies in ways that are life-giving, life-affirming.

Nancy used to attend a Thanksgiving eve service when we lived in Florida, and every year the text was this one: “take no thought to what ye shall eat, or what ye shall wear…” and I thought, “Who are they kidding! Every person in this church is sitting here thinking about tomorrow’s meal. Do I have enough mashed potatoes for everyone? What if Johnny brings his girlfriend? What if the cousins actually do show up? Is there a way to portion out the turkey so that everybody will get some?” Our heads were spinning with worry. But now I see that this text is indeed perfect for Thanksgiving eve- because it is about thanksgiving—because it reminds us that God is in charge, and not we, and that is something to be thankful for. Instead of “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” perhaps our live should witness to and sing out “Don’t worry, be thankful.”

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(1) David Lose from “Picture This” on workingpreacher.org

Hope in God

Psalm 42
1As a deer longs for flowing streams,
so my soul longs for you, O God.
2My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When shall I come and behold the face of God?
3My tears have been my food day and night,
while people say to me continually, “Where is your God?”
4These things I remember, as I pour out my soul:
how I went with the throng,
and led them in procession to the house of God,
with glad shouts and songs of thanksgiving,
a multitude keeping festival.
5Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you disquieted within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my help 6and my God.
My soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember you
from the land of Jordan and of Hermon, from Mount Mizar.
7Deep calls to deep at the thunder of your cataracts;
all your waves and your billows have gone over me.
8By day the LORD commands his steadfast love,
and at night his song is with me,
a prayer to the God of my life.
9I say to God, my rock, “Why have you forgotten me?
Why must I walk about mournfully because the enemy oppresses me?”
10As with a deadly wound in my body, my adversaries taunt me,
while they say to me continually, “Where is your God?”
11Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you disquieted within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my help and my God

A powerful earthquake strikes Haiti. The grim reports and pictures come in daily as the casualties mount. Maybe as many as 200,000 people killed devastating an already poor nation. And we respond, “Why, God?” “Why Haiti?”

Hurricane Katrina hits the Gulf Coast. Images of people stranded, hungry, waiting for help. 1,800 dead and thousands left homeless. Especially hard hit are the poorest citizens. Five years later, Presbyterian Disaster Assistance and Habitat for Humanity are still rebuilding homes. And we respond with the same questions. “Why, God?” “Why New Orleans?”

The magnitude of those disasters makes them difficult to truly grasp. Then tragedy strikes here at home. Cancer ravages the body of one who should be enjoying the best years of her life. Or violence claims the life of a friend, a loved one. And we struggle to understand.

“Why, God?” “Why him?” “Why her?”

In part, they are questions and we want answers. We need to make some sense of the senseless. We expect there to be some logic, some reason, cause and effect. We need to know there is order to God’s world. And there are some ready to jump in with answers. God is always right. Since God let those terrible things happen it’s because those people sinned. God was punishing the people in New Orleans because of their lifestyle. God was punishing the people of Haiti because they made a pact with the devil. Answers that seem to be defending God, as if God needs to be defended. Or maybe they are a response to the critics who taunt us saying, “Where is your God?” And they have answers, answers that are insulting and hurtful, and, frankly, not God’s answers.

“Why, God?” “Why him?” “Why her?”

When we feel the pain of loss deeply, though, they are not so much questions as complaints. “Why, God!” “How could this happen!” “It’s not right, God!” Sometimes our complaint goes all the way to anger. And we’ve been told we can’t get angry at God.

“When shall I come and behold the face of God? My tears have been my food day and night, while people say to me continually, ‘Where is your God?’”

Psalm 42 is a complaint, a psalm of lament. Nicholas Wolterstorff at Yale, who lost his son in a mountain climbing accident and shared his struggles that first year in “Lament for a Son,” writes “lament is the language of suffering, the voicing of suffering.” And the book of psalms is full of laments, maybe one-third of them – complaints directed to God. I remember years ago after learning about all these psalms of lament asking my pastor why we didn’t hear them more often in church. Apparently, we’re afraid to admit in church and to God that sometimes life really stinks. Wolterstorff notes lament doesn’t sell well because it is a cry to God that doesn’t match the “victorious living” mentality in many of the churches in our country. Lament doesn’t fit a can-do attitude, our need to fix things, to solve problems. “To lament is to risk living with one’s deepest questions unanswered.”

Yet, the people of Israel kept the psalms of lament. And some of these psalms are brutally honest. They are a reminder “that the Hebrew worshipper was free to express complaints, anxiety, rage, and deep sorrow before God and other members of the community.” Yes, it is OK to be angry at God, to be honest with God. Because even when we express our anger, we are still speaking with God; we haven’t given up.

“I say to God, my rock, ‘Why have you forgotten me? Why must I walk about mournfully because the enemy oppresses me?’ As with a deadly wound in my body, my adversaries taunt me, while they say to me continually, ‘Where is your God?’

Psalms of lament were also kept by the church, because they were part of Jesus’ language of suffering. On the cross, he cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me” – Psalm 22. “Father, into your hand I commit my spirit” – Psalm 31. God can hear our cries of anger and pain and sorrow, because God in Christ knows our anger, our pain, and our sorrow. Even as we mourn the loss of loved ones, God mourns with us.

“Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God”

At funeral services, we dare to say that death does not have the final word. Yes, Lord, we shall again praise you. It’s a defiant stand against the ultimate enemy. It’s our message of hope, our witness to the resurrection reflected in the ministry of the church. We feed the hungry, clothe the naked, house the homeless, do justice, love mercy, care for one another because we know death is not the end. Our ministry is not futile; our work is kingdom of God work.

Yet, we do not feel like singing and praising God now. The psalmist’s promise is in the future. Yes, one day we shall again praise God. But right now, we’re not ready. The words are still stuck in our throats. The wounds are too raw, the pain too fresh.

Sometimes our greatest witness to the world, to those we love at these times is not to figure out the reasons why, not to find the answer, not to speak for God, not to try to patch things up quickly and move on. It is simply to gather as a community of faith and express honestly to God our sorrow and our anger even as we try to comfort those who suffer, trusting in God.

“Hope in God; for we shall again praise him, our help and our God”

Law and Order - IGK

Law and Order – IGK. Dunk-dunk. Law and Order – in God's Kingdom. Coming to a congregation near you. Roll theme song. Two weeks ago we began the Sermon on the Mount. It's the first of five teaching sections in Matthew's gospel. Probably the most well-known section. And the most quoted. It's also very challenging.

For three chapters, Jesus provides instruction for his disciples; rules for how to live in God's kingdom. And let's face it - we have a love/hate relationship with rules. They seem good especially when applied to others to ensure life is fair. When executives make huge bonuses even though their companies lose money and lay people off, we cry, "There oughta be a law…" Yet, most of us expend a great deal of energy figuring out how to get around rules when applied to ourselves, especially when they seem to get in the way and make no sense. Rules are made to be broken, right?

Back when I was in junior high school, I got interested in golf. I received a starter set of clubs for Xmas and then bought a book explaining the rules of golf. I still remember the looks I got the first time I went golfing with some adults and pulled out the book which I had stashed in my bag. C'mon, I was only 12 at the time. We generally try to follow the rules, but we don't like to be reminded of them.

Perhaps we shouldn't be surprised that the Sermon on the Mount begins not with rules, but the Beatitudes. Good news that we are already beloved and blessed by God, and a blessing to others. And immediately following is a statement of our identity as salt and light. Good news that we aren't defined by what we do. Rather, we live out what we already are. And we are already bringing flavor to life, making the world a little brighter.

Only after we've heard this good news do we hear what law and order looks like in this kingdom. Jesus summarizes all that follows with this statement: "Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." The scribes and Pharisees were known for their attention to the details of the law. How is it possible to exceed their efforts?

Jesus gives six examples and in doing so makes sure that each of us hears something we can connect with even if we don't want to hear it. We will hear three of those examples this week, and the other three next week. So here goes: Matthew 5:21-32, found on page 786 in the pew bibles. Listen for the word of God.

Matthew 5:21-32
21“You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder’; and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ 22But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire. 23So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, 24leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift. 25Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison. 26Truly I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.
27“You have heard that it was said, ‘you shall not commit adultery.’ 28But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart. 29If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. 30And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to go into hell.
31“It was also said, ‘Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.’ 32But I say to you that anyone who divorces his wife, except on the ground of unchastity, causes her to commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery.

The word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.

Thanks be to God, I think. What do we do with these laws? We all grew up learning the Ten Commandments though we might be hard-pressed to name them all let alone in order. And we can go to bed each night and check them off. Nope, didn't commit murder today. Nope, didn't commit adultery. And on and on down the list. But now Jesus is broadening the law. Even worse, it's not just what we do, but what we're thinking inside that matters.

Perhaps we've known someone who would do anything including put down their co-worker just to get ahead. Don't we call that stabbing someone in the back? Perhaps we've known someone who was so dedicated to their job, put in so many hours at work they had little time or energy for their family, their spouse. Don't we call them married to their work?

Now it's harder to go down the checklist of commandments. Unless we're not human beings, all of us have experienced anger in our lives. What do we say to Jesus' instruction about divorce when half of all marriages fail in this country? And who can forget the infamous Playboy interview with Jimmy Carter who admitted to committing adultery in his heart?

So what do we do with these laws? Is Jesus urging us to take the law more seriously than we could imagine? Frankly this has been one approach taken by some in the church: the law as restraint that turns the Christian life into one of following the rules. It begs the question: "Did Jesus really have to die so that we could have the Ten Commandments on steroids?"

Others have said Jesus is reminding us that God's expectations for us are so great, the bar so high. The new law then convicts us of our failings, our sin. This forces us to turn to God’s grace alone to save us. But this makes the law seem unnecessary since we have no chance of following it. It also makes God seem rather conniving, not loving.

I don't think Jesus' main concern is with the law, at least not the legal aspect of law. Following the law, doing the right thing, staying inside the lines isn’t the goal in life. The law is the means to something more important – healthy, loving relationships with one another and ultimately with God.

Now there is a legal dimension to the law – it’s what holds us accountable for our actions toward one other. But that’s a by-product of the law, not its essential character. God has given us the law as a guide for honoring, respecting, and caring for each other. Sure, we can get all legalistic, but before long we’ll all be accusing and suing and punishing one another. Where will that leave our relationships, our community, our world? As Mahatma Gandhi said, “An eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind.”(1)

Jesus wants more for us. He wants us to regard each other as God regards us and to treat each other accordingly. It’s less about following the letter of the law as understanding its goal for us: the life and health of our neighbor! That’s what law and order in God’s Kingdom is like. That’s what life is like, what real living is like, in God’s Kingdom.

This morning we heard Jesus offer three examples of this kingdom living. In the first, the problem is not so much our anger, but how we come to terms with it. Jesus’ answer is to seek reconciliation, even if you believe you have been wronged. This is not advice to become a doormat. Reconciliation is about mutual respect. But someone needs to take the first step.

In the other examples about adultery and divorce, the underlying issue is the treatment of women. In both cases, the woman is viewed as an object either to be desired or discarded. This doesn’t mean there won’t be instances when divorce is best because the marriage is destructive or abusive to one or both partners. But Jesus calls for relationships in marriage that build up, where the partners respect and love each other.

Jesus gives the disciples a new way of life, not rejecting the tradition, but building upon it. It is a way of life that demands more and promises more. Yes, it sounds idealistic, out of touch with the real world. But what kind of community would you like to live in? Perhaps we need to consider how we can create rules that truly work to honor our neighbor. Perhaps we should consider how the Kingdom of God can be more fully embodied in our homes, our congregation, our community. Of course, we may wonder how we can possibly accomplish all this ourselves.

At Lodi, they will be celebrating a baptism this morning. One of the questions we ask the parents is, “Will you be Christ’s faithful disciple, obeying his Word and showing his love?” Their answer is, “I will, with God’s help.” And that is Christ’s answer to us as well. “You, who are salt and light, you will with God’s help.”

(1) David Lose from workingpreacher.org, “Radical”

The Gospel According to Alton Brown

Isaiah 58:1-9a (9b-12)
1 Shout out, do not hold back!
Lift up your voice like a trumpet!
Announce to my people their rebellion,
to the house of Jacob their sins.
2 Yet day after day they seek me
and delight to know my ways,
as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness
and did not forsake the ordinance of their God;
they ask of me righteous judgments,
they delight to draw near to God.
3 “Why do we fast, but you do not see?
Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?”
Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day,
and oppress all your workers.
4 Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight
and to strike with a wicked fist.
Such fasting as you do today
will not make your voice heard on high.
5 Is such the fast that I choose,
a day to humble oneself?
Is it to bow down the head like a bulrush,
and to lie in sackcloth and ashes?
Will you call this a fast,
a day acceptable to the LORD?
6 Is not this the fast that I choose:
to loose the bonds of injustice,
to undo the thongs of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
and to break every yoke?
7 Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,
and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover them,
and not to hide yourself from your own kin?
8 Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your healing shall spring up quickly;
your vindicator shall go before you,
the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard.
9 Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer;
you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am.


Matthew 5:13-20
13“You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.
14“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. 15No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. 16In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.
17“Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. 18For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. 19Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. 20For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

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They’ve become Emeril Lagasse’s signature phrases. “Let’s kick it up a notch!” And the audience goes wild. Then “Bam!” as he throws some Cajun spices into the pan. For our food and our coffee, the word of the day is “Bold!” Bold flavors. Watch any cooking show from Worst Cooks in America to Iron Chef to Bobby Flay to Alton Brown. One of the keys to great food is proper seasoning. And the key seasoning is salt.

Now I know we hear regularly in the media how Americans have too much sodium in their diet, and that it’s a major contributor to high blood pressure. And I’m one of those who have to worry. But the reality of life is that we need salt in our diet to survive (we just don’t need quite as much as we consume).

Salt has been an important spice for millennia not only for its ability to preserve food, but to season it as well. Of course, today there’s no longer just simple table salt; now we have sea salt, and kosher salt, and even Himalayan salt blocks. But in the end it’s all about salt’s ability to enhance other flavors. Take out the salt and, frankly, food is just bland and unappetizing.

You are the salt of the earth! Yes, you. Just like we heard with the Beatitudes last week, this is a description, not instruction, not command. You already are the salt of the earth, salt that seasons life. So what does it mean to be salt, to give flavor to life? In his book, “I Refuse to Lead a Dying Church,” author Paul Nixon writes that vital churches are ones that choose bold over mild. Would you call our worship bold? Do we give bold flavor to the community here in Hector/Lodi? How does one even know?

You are the light of the world. Well, maybe that’s a little easier to relate to than salt. Light in the darkness is a symbol of hope. With so much uncertainty and suffering and struggle and death in the news every day what is needed most is hope. As followers of Christ we are called to be light for a world in need of good news. How do we embody light for the world, or even salt for the earth? According to Jesus, it’s through the mercy we show, the love we share, the justice we do.

The interesting thing about salt and light is you don’t need much. Just a pinch of salt brings out the flavor in foods. Even one candle does much to dispel the darkness. We don’t need to act heroically in the presence of a crazed shooter, or to protest against the government for human rights. It’s the little things God works through each of us to help another person. Even if we feel our efforts are minor or our congregation is too small to do much, we are capable of more than we can imagine through God’s Spirit.

Last Thursday we had a little excitement at the Office for the Aging luncheon here in fellowship hall. One woman wasn’t feeling well at the end of the meal. Others in the room went over to help, saw her symptoms and called 911. Folks stayed with the woman even though they had places to go, things to do. Within a few minutes the volunteer ambulance crew came. They assessed the situation and then expertly convinced the woman to let them take her to the hospital. As it turns out there was nothing seriously wrong, but the hospital was concerned enough to keep her overnight. Several of you freely gave of your time to help someone in need. I know you think that’s just what we do here and have been doing for a long time. Sometimes, though, we need to be reminded: this is how we are a light in the world.

This also points to another truth about salt and light – their benefit is not for themselves but for what is around them. Salt gives flavor to foods. We use it not so much for the taste of salt, but for the way it brings out the flavor of whatever you put it on. Put a little on something sweet and it doesn’t turn it salty; it actually makes the food even sweeter tasting. We light a candle not for the candle itself, but for the way the light drives back the dark and illumines everything in the room.

Our works are not for ourselves, or to make us look good. They are to help others and point people to God. Archbishop William Temple said, "The church is the only organization on earth that exists for those who are not its members." Before we read from Matthew, we heard God speaking through the prophet Isaiah. What is the best expression of faith? It’s not to go through the motions, which at that time was to fast. No, it’s to share bread with the hungry, provide shelter for the homeless, clothe the naked.

We have a couple in our church who have suggested renting a trailer and setting up a thrift store in our parking lot selling used clothing. It’s ambitious, involves some logistical challenges, and will take some volunteer time to sort through the donations, but we know there is need in our community. We see it every month at our food pantry, and twice a year when the mobile food truck comes.

When Jesus talks about salt and light, he offers a warning, possibly even a threat. If salt loses its saltiness, then it’s only fit to be tossed out and trampled underfoot. Of course, with the snow and ice we’ve had that salt would still doing something useful. But I suppose you could interpret Jesus to mean we are to take seriously our call to mission. But I struggle with how salt can lose its saltiness. Salt is a pretty stable compound, and about the only way to change that is to electro-chemically split the sodium from the chloride. Perhaps what is being described is an absurdity. Like lighting a candle and putting it under a bushel. Not only will it not serve any purpose, but it’s liable to go out or set the bushel on fire!

Salt can’t be anything but salty. A light illumines. We who follow Christ can’t lose our character as salt and light for the world, because that’s who God has created us, gifted us, and called us to be. "You are the salt of the earth! You are the light of the world. That's the way it is and that's the way it will stay. Period."(1) We can’t not be salt and light.

So now I have an assignment for you for the week. I want you to record examples of where God has worked through you to help someone else. Write it down on paper, type it into your computer. Then I would like to encourage you to send it to Pastor Nancy or myself so we can start a Salt & Light Log. Start talking about it during the coffee hour. You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to God.”

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(1) David Lose from workingpreacher.org, “Salt & Light” as is the idea of a Salt & Light log.