Psalm 40:1-11 p446
1I waited patiently for the LORD; he inclined to me and heard my cry.
2He drew me up from the desolate pit, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure.
3He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the LORD.
4Happy are those who make the LORD their trust, who do not turn to the proud, to those who go astray after false gods.
5You have multiplied, O LORD my God, your wondrous deeds and your thoughts toward us; none can compare with you. Were I to proclaim and tell of them, they would be more than can be counted.
6Sacrifice and offering you do not desire, but you have given me an open ear. Burnt offering and sin offering you have not required.
7Then I said, “Here I am; in the scroll of the book it is written of me.
8I delight to do your will, O my God; your law is within my heart.”
9I have told the glad news of deliverance in the great congregation; see, I have not restrained my lips, as you know, O LORD.
10I have not hidden your saving help within my heart, I have spoken of your faithfulness and your salvation; I have not concealed your steadfast love and your faithfulness from the great congregation.
11Do not, O LORD, withhold your mercy from me; let your steadfast love and your faithfulness keep me safe forever. This is the Word of the Lord…..
John 1:29-42 p. 862
29The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! 30This is he of whom I said, ‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ 31I myself did not know him; but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.” 32And John testified, “I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. 33I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ 34And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Son of God.” 35The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, 36and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!”
37The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. 38When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, “What are you looking for?” They said to him, “Rabbi” (which translated means Teacher), “where are you staying?” 39He said to them, “Come and see.” They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o”clock in the afternoon. 40One of the two who heard John speak and followed him was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother. 41He first found his brother Simon and said to him, “We have found the Messiah” (which is translated Anointed). 42He brought Simon to Jesus, who looked at him and said, “You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas” (which is translated Peter).
In the aftermath of the unspeakable tragedy that occurred last week in Tucson, we are at first, stunned. Silent. We have no words to express our grief and outrage at yet another tragedy, yet another horrific shooting, at so many lives lost. But soon, and in this time of instant media, practically immediately, the finger pointing began. Fingers pointing at the gun lobby, or the store that sold a 31 bullet clip of ammunition just hours before the shooting, or at the laws that allowed that. Fingers pointing at Jared Loughner’s parents, at hateful political rhetoric, at a society that doesn’t deal well—or at all, really, with mental illness, at policy that says police can’t intervene until after someone gets hurt…..fingers pointing everywhere.
This morning’s text seems far away from that tragedy. There is finger pointing in here as well. But it is a different kind of finger pointing. John the Baptist sees Jesus walking by, and points. But John doesn’t only point. He proclaims: “Here is the Lamb of God”. John does two things-- pointing- and telling-“I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Son of God”
We need to do both. Pointing to Jesus, the Prince of Peace. Pointing to him with our lives. Pointing to him in the way we spend our money, the way we treat each other and our world, the way we make peace on this earth. Pointing our fingers not in blame, or anger, but in showing: “Look!”
And we need to tell about him. John testifies—that is witnesses—to what he sees and knows. John tells what he saw: the Spirit, descending and remaining with Jesus. And John tells also what he did not know: John freely confesses his journey: “I myself did not know him…but now I do”. John says that Jesus is the Lamb of God. And look at what the text says that Jesus does: he says “Come and See”. That’s all. No big fuss. No “where will you spend eternity?” No “Four Spiritual Truths”. No “you’re not one of us,” no vitriolic name-calling or mud slinging. Just—Come and See.
The writer of Psalm 40 has experienced trouble and despair. And yet, her song is one of testimony. “God drew me up out of the desolate pit….God put a new song in my mouth.” And then this: “I have told the glad news of deliverance….I have not restrained my lips...I have spoken of your faithfulness”
The response of gratitude is always testifying, always witnessing to the goodness of God.
In the movie, Witness, a little boy, Samuel, witnesses a murder in a bathroom in Grand Central Station in New York City. The police detective, played by Harrison Ford, interviews Samuel, who is Amish. While at the police station, the boy looks at a cabinet full of awards and photos and baseball trophies. He sees a newspaper clipping with a picture of the killer—and points his finger. Ford, noticing the boy, and fearing for his life, since the man boy is pointing to, the killer, is another police detective, runs over, and folds the little boy’s finger back into his hand. It is a chilling moment. The two look at each other, knowing what this means, knowing what they see. They see the truth at that moment. Like John the Baptist standing near the water, they know now what they did not know before.
Come and see. While this is never expressed out loud in the movie, this is just what Harrison Ford’s character does. He goes to the Amish country, where the boy and his family live. Ford sees their life, and their witness of peace and non-violence and community. The little boy is fascinated, fascinated, with the guns he has seen. He wants to use one. His grandfather speaks to him about it. “I would only kill a bad man” the boy says. “And you know these bad men by sight?” the grandfather asks him. “You are able to look into their hearts?”
Jesus says to the disciples “What are you looking for?” and tells them “Come and See.”
And they do—and they call their brothers, and later, others, to come and see. And they stay with Jesus. Our translation misses it—the word “remain”, which appears a number of times in this text, is “abide, stay, dwell”, and is related to the word for tabernacle—the word for when God traveled with the people of Israel through the wilderness, camping with them in the desert. A kind of “sticking with,” a traveling together.
This mutual abiding, this mutual staying with, dwelling, is the work of the Holy Spirit. And it is the life we are called to. It is the life we call others to—Come and See, we tell them. Come and abide in this peace. The writer Madeleine L’Engle says it this way: “We do not draw people to Christ by loudly discrediting what they believe, by telling them how wrong they are and how right we are, but by showing them a light that is so lovely
that they want with all their hearts to know the source of it.”
When John points his finger, he says “Look, the Lamb of God”. This was a reference to the Passover lamb, whose blood was spread across the door posts, to save the people of Israel. It is also a reference to the sacrifices in the Temple in Jerusalem, in which a lamb was ritually slaughtered every morning and every afternoon. Not a charming or attractive description of Jesus, the Anointed One.
But we who have studied Revelation this past year know the end of the story—or at least, a little more of the story. For in Revelation, it is the Lamb who was slain, who triumphs over sin and death. It is the Lamb, slaughtered but standing, that gives us life. It is the Lamb of God who has suffered violence, who is the Prince of Peace.
This week has been filled with death, it seems—multiple deaths in Tucson, tragedy in the life of a young man, a beloved friend who is gone too soon, finally at rest after a battle with cancer. But we know the One who is the Lamb of God. And we abide with him, and He in us. He is the One we call others to Come and See. Thanks be to God. Alleluia. Amen.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
Sermon Jan 9 2011
Isaiah 42:1-9 p 584
42Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations. 2He will not cry or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street; 3a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice. 4He will not grow faint or be crushed until he has established justice in the earth; and the coastlands wait for his teaching.
5Thus says God, the LORD, who created the heavens and stretched them out, who spread out the earth and what comes from it, who gives breath to the people upon it and spirit to those who walk in it: 6I am the LORD, I have called you in righteousness, I have taken you by the hand and kept you; I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, 7to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness. 8I am the LORD, that is my name; my glory I give to no other, nor my praise to idols. 9See, the former things have come to pass, and new things I now declare; before they spring forth, I tell you of them.
Matthew 3:13-17 p 784
13Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. 14John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” 15But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Then he consented. 16And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. 17And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”
This is the word of the Lord…..thanks be to God
The story of Jesus’ baptism is a very short narrative—only 4 verses—but it is packed full.
Matthew has John the Baptist ask a question that we want to ask: why does Jesus get baptized? Jesus is sinless, and John is preaching a baptism for forgiveness of sin—so what is Jesus doing out there in the middle of the Jordan?
Jesus comes out to meet John, to be baptized. John didn’t want to do it, but Jesus commands him, saying “permit it. It is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness”.
And there is the first thing I want us to notice: “it is proper for US”. Baptism is a gift of God, the claim of God upon us—but it always happens in a community of faith, in and through the church. It took John, and Jesus, and God, out there in the water. Here, it takes all of us. When we baptize (and it is usually an infant, but it doesn’t have to be an infant) the family stands up and makes promises for the child. But the elder will turn and ask the congregation: “do you promise to guide and nurture this child, by word and deed, with love and prayer, encouraging her to know and follow Christ and to be a faithful member of his church”. Then we sit down—and we should be stunned by what we have just promised. We just promised to guide and nurture someone, in the manner of Christ, who, by the way, died for us, and we have promised to help that one know and love and follow Christ, using our words and deeds, our very lives. Yikes.
I have been at countless baptisms. I have never, ever seen anybody sit down and say “whoa. Nope. Too hard” when we come to that part in the service.
It is said that Martin Luther, discouraged, would pat himself on the top of his bald head, and say “I am baptized”. In some churches, a common greeting to the congregation is “Remember your baptism, and be glad.” Now, most of us here probably can’t remember our baptism—it’s almost a joke, “remember your baptism”. But even that is significant: perhaps we can’t remember our baptism, but we can remember that God loved us, and claimed us, long before we could ever have any knowledge of it, ever have the ability to make a choice for God. God has claimed us.
The second thing I want us to notice in the text about Jesus’ baptism is this: after Jesus comes out of the water, he sees the heavens being opened, and a voice is heard “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I take delight.” God breaches the boundaries between heaven and earth. It is a decisive moment: if there was any doubt, about who Jesus is, here it is, proclaimed out loud, in a voice from heaven. If the genealogy, and the angels, and the dreams, and the wise men showing up to pay homage to the infant king didn’t tell you, here it is. “This is my Son”
And that is what happens in our baptism as well. We understand that in baptism, we are claimed by God, and our truest identity is revealed—as a child of God, and a member of the household of faith. Which is why we don’t use last names when we baptize—have you noticed? We say “Nancy Ellen, child of the covenant, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism, joined to the household of faith, made Christ’s own forever.” Maybe that’s what we should say, when we get discouraged, instead of Martin Luther’s I am baptized--say “I am a child of God, made Christ’s own.”
Fred Craddock tells a story about a young boy, who was born out of wedlock. He lived in a little mountain town in the South. The boy had been baptized, and had occasionally attended the church, but the shame of his position was such that he and his mom didn’t go very often. Well, the little church called a new minister. And the boy, hearing the news, decided to go to church and see what the new minister was like. The boy determined to arrive late, and sit in the back, and sneak out before the last hymn ended, so he wouldn’t have to hear any ugly talk about himself or his mother, or his dad, who was married to someone else. But that minister was fast on his feet- so fast, that he got to the door for shaking hands before the boy could slip out. So, trembling, the boy got in line, to pass the new minister and shake his hand at the doorstep. The minister shook his hand, and asked the boy’s name. When the boy whispered his name, he feared the worst, the stories, the looks, the questions. The minister took the boy’s chin in his hand, and said “Why, son, I would have known you anywhere. You look just like your daddy.” Here it is, thought the boy, I am about to be shamed in public...again. “Yes sir” said the preacher, “you have the look of your Father, God the creator, all over you. I should have seen the resemblance immediately.”
In baptism we are claimed by God, joined to the household of faith, and marked as Christ’s own. Forever.
Which is a good thing. Because after Jesus is baptized, the very next thing that happens is that he is out in the desert, undergoing trials. And much the same thing happens to us. Baptism does not give us immunity from trouble. Baptism is not a vaccination; it is not about “luck”. Baptism is a claim of God upon us. Wherever we go—and whatever we go through—we are still held fast in God’s hand, we are still a child of God.
One of my favorite hymns is How Firm a Foundation. And one of the verses says “when thru the deep waters I call thee to go, the rivers of sorrow shall not overflow, For I will be with thee”
The river Jordan, like most rivers, ebbs and flows with run-off. It is seasonal—and in some places, you can walk across with barely getting your feet wet. In other places, it is deep. Jesus went all the way under, under the water. Jesus went out into the wilderness, to be tested. In all these places, he was God’s beloved. And in our times of trial, and testing, when it seems like the water is closing over our heads, we can rest in that assurance as well: “You are my child, my beloved. In you I take delight.”
So, to ask the question John asks, why does Jesus go out into the wilderness, the Jordan, to be baptized? Because Jesus, fully divine, is also fully human—and he knows what we go through. As Immanuel, God with us, Jesus joins us in our life.
And that is the last thing I want us to note. It is in our daily life, in the elements of our daily, human living, bread and wine, water—that we encounter God, and remember God’s love for us. Remember your baptism—and be glad. Amen
42Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations. 2He will not cry or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street; 3a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice. 4He will not grow faint or be crushed until he has established justice in the earth; and the coastlands wait for his teaching.
5Thus says God, the LORD, who created the heavens and stretched them out, who spread out the earth and what comes from it, who gives breath to the people upon it and spirit to those who walk in it: 6I am the LORD, I have called you in righteousness, I have taken you by the hand and kept you; I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, 7to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness. 8I am the LORD, that is my name; my glory I give to no other, nor my praise to idols. 9See, the former things have come to pass, and new things I now declare; before they spring forth, I tell you of them.
Matthew 3:13-17 p 784
13Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. 14John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” 15But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Then he consented. 16And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. 17And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”
This is the word of the Lord…..thanks be to God
The story of Jesus’ baptism is a very short narrative—only 4 verses—but it is packed full.
Matthew has John the Baptist ask a question that we want to ask: why does Jesus get baptized? Jesus is sinless, and John is preaching a baptism for forgiveness of sin—so what is Jesus doing out there in the middle of the Jordan?
Jesus comes out to meet John, to be baptized. John didn’t want to do it, but Jesus commands him, saying “permit it. It is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness”.
And there is the first thing I want us to notice: “it is proper for US”. Baptism is a gift of God, the claim of God upon us—but it always happens in a community of faith, in and through the church. It took John, and Jesus, and God, out there in the water. Here, it takes all of us. When we baptize (and it is usually an infant, but it doesn’t have to be an infant) the family stands up and makes promises for the child. But the elder will turn and ask the congregation: “do you promise to guide and nurture this child, by word and deed, with love and prayer, encouraging her to know and follow Christ and to be a faithful member of his church”. Then we sit down—and we should be stunned by what we have just promised. We just promised to guide and nurture someone, in the manner of Christ, who, by the way, died for us, and we have promised to help that one know and love and follow Christ, using our words and deeds, our very lives. Yikes.
I have been at countless baptisms. I have never, ever seen anybody sit down and say “whoa. Nope. Too hard” when we come to that part in the service.
It is said that Martin Luther, discouraged, would pat himself on the top of his bald head, and say “I am baptized”. In some churches, a common greeting to the congregation is “Remember your baptism, and be glad.” Now, most of us here probably can’t remember our baptism—it’s almost a joke, “remember your baptism”. But even that is significant: perhaps we can’t remember our baptism, but we can remember that God loved us, and claimed us, long before we could ever have any knowledge of it, ever have the ability to make a choice for God. God has claimed us.
The second thing I want us to notice in the text about Jesus’ baptism is this: after Jesus comes out of the water, he sees the heavens being opened, and a voice is heard “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I take delight.” God breaches the boundaries between heaven and earth. It is a decisive moment: if there was any doubt, about who Jesus is, here it is, proclaimed out loud, in a voice from heaven. If the genealogy, and the angels, and the dreams, and the wise men showing up to pay homage to the infant king didn’t tell you, here it is. “This is my Son”
And that is what happens in our baptism as well. We understand that in baptism, we are claimed by God, and our truest identity is revealed—as a child of God, and a member of the household of faith. Which is why we don’t use last names when we baptize—have you noticed? We say “Nancy Ellen, child of the covenant, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism, joined to the household of faith, made Christ’s own forever.” Maybe that’s what we should say, when we get discouraged, instead of Martin Luther’s I am baptized--say “I am a child of God, made Christ’s own.”
Fred Craddock tells a story about a young boy, who was born out of wedlock. He lived in a little mountain town in the South. The boy had been baptized, and had occasionally attended the church, but the shame of his position was such that he and his mom didn’t go very often. Well, the little church called a new minister. And the boy, hearing the news, decided to go to church and see what the new minister was like. The boy determined to arrive late, and sit in the back, and sneak out before the last hymn ended, so he wouldn’t have to hear any ugly talk about himself or his mother, or his dad, who was married to someone else. But that minister was fast on his feet- so fast, that he got to the door for shaking hands before the boy could slip out. So, trembling, the boy got in line, to pass the new minister and shake his hand at the doorstep. The minister shook his hand, and asked the boy’s name. When the boy whispered his name, he feared the worst, the stories, the looks, the questions. The minister took the boy’s chin in his hand, and said “Why, son, I would have known you anywhere. You look just like your daddy.” Here it is, thought the boy, I am about to be shamed in public...again. “Yes sir” said the preacher, “you have the look of your Father, God the creator, all over you. I should have seen the resemblance immediately.”
In baptism we are claimed by God, joined to the household of faith, and marked as Christ’s own. Forever.
Which is a good thing. Because after Jesus is baptized, the very next thing that happens is that he is out in the desert, undergoing trials. And much the same thing happens to us. Baptism does not give us immunity from trouble. Baptism is not a vaccination; it is not about “luck”. Baptism is a claim of God upon us. Wherever we go—and whatever we go through—we are still held fast in God’s hand, we are still a child of God.
One of my favorite hymns is How Firm a Foundation. And one of the verses says “when thru the deep waters I call thee to go, the rivers of sorrow shall not overflow, For I will be with thee”
The river Jordan, like most rivers, ebbs and flows with run-off. It is seasonal—and in some places, you can walk across with barely getting your feet wet. In other places, it is deep. Jesus went all the way under, under the water. Jesus went out into the wilderness, to be tested. In all these places, he was God’s beloved. And in our times of trial, and testing, when it seems like the water is closing over our heads, we can rest in that assurance as well: “You are my child, my beloved. In you I take delight.”
So, to ask the question John asks, why does Jesus go out into the wilderness, the Jordan, to be baptized? Because Jesus, fully divine, is also fully human—and he knows what we go through. As Immanuel, God with us, Jesus joins us in our life.
And that is the last thing I want us to note. It is in our daily life, in the elements of our daily, human living, bread and wine, water—that we encounter God, and remember God’s love for us. Remember your baptism—and be glad. Amen
Tragedy
I am struck virtually speechless as I contemplate the tragedy in Tucson earlier this week. I am also struck nearly speechless as we now begin to hear stories of heroism from those who were there at the shooting. Our hearts grieve for all those killed, and for the shooter and his family. One of the confessions of the Presbyterian Church USA (PC(USA)) is "A Brief Statement of Faith" and it says "in life and in death we belong to God". These weeks the Scripture texts are about Jesus' baptism, and what that reveals and means for us. Jesus' baptism did not confer immunity from bad things to him--he died a violent death--and neither does our baptism. It does mean, however, that we belong to God--and nothing can separate from the love of God in Jesus Christ. Baptism also is the beginning of Jesus ministry--and it is ours, too. Our ministry to be peacemakers. Our ministry to be actors-out of love, not hate, life, not death, health, not illness. This is our calling.
Pastor Nancy
Pastor Nancy
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Epiphany
Jokes about Wee Three Kings, or "tried to smoke a rubber cigar..." aside, it is not yet Epiphany- the day the church remembers and clebrates the 3 Wise people. We are pretty much all back at our usual lives, and for many of us, teh tree is down, the leftovers are gone, the New Year's resolutions have started. But the Wise Men (and women) are stilll searching for Jesus. Estimates say they traveled at least 2 years, following the star, before they got to see tha baby Jesus. (who was a toddler by then, apparently). What do you search for in your life? What have you been following for years? It is something that gives light and life, soemthing taht will lead to Jesus? Or have you (and I include myself in this) been following something,been paying attention to something, for years, that will not lead you to the Prince of Peace? Spend some time is silence and prayer, asking yourself: What am I searching for? What can I let go of searching for?
Blessings in this Epiphany time- Pastor Nancy
Blessings in this Epiphany time- Pastor Nancy
Thursday, December 30, 2010
New Year
The New Year always brings up a mixed bag of cultural stuff for me--the whole big party, New Year's Eve, watch the ball drop/resolutions/next year will be better/top ten lists, baggage. The New Year will be both good and bad, like most other years. What is constant is the love and care of God. Psalm 139 says "If I ascend to heaven, you are there, if I make my bed in utter darkness, you are there". We might say: "In 2011, you are there, O God. No matter what the time, or where we are, you are always there." No matter what 2011 brings, we can trust in God, who is always there.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Christ the King
Colossians 1:11-20 p956
11May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully 12giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light. 13He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, 14in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. 15He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; 16for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. 17He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. 18He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. 19For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, 20and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross
Luke 23:33-43 p859
33When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. 34Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” And they cast lots to divide his clothing. 35And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!” 36The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, 37and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” 38There was also an inscription over him, “This is the King of the Jews.” 39One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and
saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” 40But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” 42Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” 43He replied, “Truly I tell you, this day you will be with me in Paradise.”
This is the Word of the Lord….thanks be to God
“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom…” We sing that sometimes (sing it here…)
Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom.
There are three crosses on the hill that day—3 men being crucified—and all of them are charged with sedition. They are considered insurrectionists, traitors, and Jesus is there too—as just another traitor against Rome—because nobody goes up against Rome and lives to tell about it.
Rome’s punishment is harsh, and fast, and public—the 3 men are all there on the hill to serve as a warning and a lesson—do not mess with Rome—but that is not the lesson we learn—
The inscription that hangs over Jesus’ head got it right—“This is the King of the Jews”. Ironically, or prophetically, the soldiers got it right. This is the King of the Jews…
But what kind of King? What kind of King would let himself be crucified? What kind of King would die such a public and shameful death? What kind of King would say this about the very people who crucified him: ”Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing…” “Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom”—what kind of kingdom can that possibly be?
Colossians says that Christ is the firstborn of creation, for in him all things in heaven and earth were created—all things have been created through him and for him—that Christ is the image of the invisible God…..but what kind of image is this? A suffering savior? A broken king? A failed Messiah? Who would want any part of that?
In the movie, Gran Torino, Clint Eastwood plays Walt Kowalski, an unlikely hero. He is a racist, a misogynist, a bitter, warped old man, recently widowed, estranged from his children, furious about all the Hmong immigrants that have moved into the neighborhood. And yet—he acts in a saving way to the family next door, and especially to their young son, who is bullied and threatened and beat up. Mr. Kowalski shares food, and time, and his car, his vintage Gran Torino, with the boy. He does not look like a savior—he looks like an old man, waiting for death to come to him. And yet his actions bring hope and healing to others.
We have talked about apocalypse, about unveiling—about how what is unveiled, what is revealed, is the realest reality, the truest truth—
And in Christ’s crucifixion, we have an unveiling—that THIS is what a Messiah looks like, that this is what God is like—that this is what love looks like—
This is what our rescuer looks like—for in Christ’s dying, and in his rising, God has “rescued us from the power of darkness, and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son”.
This is not a king like we read about in fairy tales. And we Americans, who have a history, a story and identity based on rejecting kings, have trouble with this image. But this king is not like any human king. And this reign, this kingdom, is not like any earthly empire we have ever seen.
This is not a king like Caesar, in which peace (because the Romans were famous for the Pax Romana) is peace built upon fear, and oppression, and threats.
This king is a paradox—a ruler who was killed like a criminal, among criminals—but a king who is able, even at the moment of his life giving death, to respond, to forgive, to hear, and bless.
And one of the criminals asks to be remembered—Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom—how ever far away that is, however long it takes, however wildly improbable it is that a Palestinian peasant, a man hung up in public on a tree could even have a kingdom-
And what Jesus does is answer him—“This day” This day, you will be with me in paradise. Today- right now—this day
The Gospel of Luke is full of “this day”
Unto you is born THIS DAY, in the city of David, a Savior, who is Christ, the Lord (lk 2:11)
When Jesus goes to his hometown, and reads from the prophet Isaiah in the Synagogue, he says “This day the scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing…” (lk 4:21)
In the story of Zaccheus, Jesus says to Zaccheus “I must come to your house THIS DAY” and then announces “THIS DAY salvation has come to this house because he, too is a son of Abraham” (19)
That is the kind of king we have, this is the kind of King Christ is—one who hears us, and responds to us, not later, or when he gets around to it, or in the way of politicians and earthly kings, never, but THIS DAY—a king who hears our cries, who responds to us—“even before they call, I will answer, while they are still speaking I will hear” says God in Isaiah (65:24) We have a king, we worship a king, who is not in some heaven, light years away , not too busy, not to disconnected, to hear us and listen to us.
And yet—it is a paradox—a mystery—Walter Brueggemann reminds us that a mystery is not “something that can be solved, if only we think harder or better”—no, Christ as king is mystery and paradox- and the kingdom of God, the Reign of Christ, si also a mystery. We look at the world, and think “where is this kingdom?” And yet, we say that it exists, in an already here and not yet kind of way. Sylvia Dunstan, in her hymn Christus Paradox, writes of Christ “you, who walk each day beside us, sit in power at God’s side”….”you Lord, are both lamb and shepherd, you lord are both king and slave”
That is the kind of king we have. Not Caesar, and not whoever, or whatever, it is the current empire says should be Lord—we have a King who listens to us, and hears us, and rescues us. Jesus, remember me, remember us, when you come into your kingdom. This day, we are with him in paradise. Amen.
11May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully 12giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light. 13He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, 14in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. 15He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; 16for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. 17He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. 18He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. 19For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, 20and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross
Luke 23:33-43 p859
33When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. 34Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” And they cast lots to divide his clothing. 35And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!” 36The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, 37and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” 38There was also an inscription over him, “This is the King of the Jews.” 39One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and
saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” 40But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” 42Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” 43He replied, “Truly I tell you, this day you will be with me in Paradise.”
This is the Word of the Lord….thanks be to God
“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom…” We sing that sometimes (sing it here…)
Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom.
There are three crosses on the hill that day—3 men being crucified—and all of them are charged with sedition. They are considered insurrectionists, traitors, and Jesus is there too—as just another traitor against Rome—because nobody goes up against Rome and lives to tell about it.
Rome’s punishment is harsh, and fast, and public—the 3 men are all there on the hill to serve as a warning and a lesson—do not mess with Rome—but that is not the lesson we learn—
The inscription that hangs over Jesus’ head got it right—“This is the King of the Jews”. Ironically, or prophetically, the soldiers got it right. This is the King of the Jews…
But what kind of King? What kind of King would let himself be crucified? What kind of King would die such a public and shameful death? What kind of King would say this about the very people who crucified him: ”Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing…” “Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom”—what kind of kingdom can that possibly be?
Colossians says that Christ is the firstborn of creation, for in him all things in heaven and earth were created—all things have been created through him and for him—that Christ is the image of the invisible God…..but what kind of image is this? A suffering savior? A broken king? A failed Messiah? Who would want any part of that?
In the movie, Gran Torino, Clint Eastwood plays Walt Kowalski, an unlikely hero. He is a racist, a misogynist, a bitter, warped old man, recently widowed, estranged from his children, furious about all the Hmong immigrants that have moved into the neighborhood. And yet—he acts in a saving way to the family next door, and especially to their young son, who is bullied and threatened and beat up. Mr. Kowalski shares food, and time, and his car, his vintage Gran Torino, with the boy. He does not look like a savior—he looks like an old man, waiting for death to come to him. And yet his actions bring hope and healing to others.
We have talked about apocalypse, about unveiling—about how what is unveiled, what is revealed, is the realest reality, the truest truth—
And in Christ’s crucifixion, we have an unveiling—that THIS is what a Messiah looks like, that this is what God is like—that this is what love looks like—
This is what our rescuer looks like—for in Christ’s dying, and in his rising, God has “rescued us from the power of darkness, and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son”.
This is not a king like we read about in fairy tales. And we Americans, who have a history, a story and identity based on rejecting kings, have trouble with this image. But this king is not like any human king. And this reign, this kingdom, is not like any earthly empire we have ever seen.
This is not a king like Caesar, in which peace (because the Romans were famous for the Pax Romana) is peace built upon fear, and oppression, and threats.
This king is a paradox—a ruler who was killed like a criminal, among criminals—but a king who is able, even at the moment of his life giving death, to respond, to forgive, to hear, and bless.
And one of the criminals asks to be remembered—Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom—how ever far away that is, however long it takes, however wildly improbable it is that a Palestinian peasant, a man hung up in public on a tree could even have a kingdom-
And what Jesus does is answer him—“This day” This day, you will be with me in paradise. Today- right now—this day
The Gospel of Luke is full of “this day”
Unto you is born THIS DAY, in the city of David, a Savior, who is Christ, the Lord (lk 2:11)
When Jesus goes to his hometown, and reads from the prophet Isaiah in the Synagogue, he says “This day the scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing…” (lk 4:21)
In the story of Zaccheus, Jesus says to Zaccheus “I must come to your house THIS DAY” and then announces “THIS DAY salvation has come to this house because he, too is a son of Abraham” (19)
That is the kind of king we have, this is the kind of King Christ is—one who hears us, and responds to us, not later, or when he gets around to it, or in the way of politicians and earthly kings, never, but THIS DAY—a king who hears our cries, who responds to us—“even before they call, I will answer, while they are still speaking I will hear” says God in Isaiah (65:24) We have a king, we worship a king, who is not in some heaven, light years away , not too busy, not to disconnected, to hear us and listen to us.
And yet—it is a paradox—a mystery—Walter Brueggemann reminds us that a mystery is not “something that can be solved, if only we think harder or better”—no, Christ as king is mystery and paradox- and the kingdom of God, the Reign of Christ, si also a mystery. We look at the world, and think “where is this kingdom?” And yet, we say that it exists, in an already here and not yet kind of way. Sylvia Dunstan, in her hymn Christus Paradox, writes of Christ “you, who walk each day beside us, sit in power at God’s side”….”you Lord, are both lamb and shepherd, you lord are both king and slave”
That is the kind of king we have. Not Caesar, and not whoever, or whatever, it is the current empire says should be Lord—we have a King who listens to us, and hears us, and rescues us. Jesus, remember me, remember us, when you come into your kingdom. This day, we are with him in paradise. Amen.
Apocalypse Now?
Apocalypse Now?
Isaiah 65:17-25 p 607
17For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. 18But be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating; for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy, and its people as a delight. 19I will rejoice in Jerusalem, and delight in my people; no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it, or the cry of distress. 20No more shall there be in it an infant that lives but a few days, or an old person who does not live out a lifetime; for one who dies at a hundred years will be considered a youth, and one who falls short of a hundred will be considered accursed. 21They shall build houses and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit. 22They shall not build and another inhabit; they shall not plant and another eat; for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be, and my chosen shall long enjoy the work of their hands. 23They shall not labor in vain, or bear children for calamity; for they shall be offspring blessed by the LORD— and their descendants as well. 24Before they call I will answer, while they are yet speaking I will hear. 25The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, the lion shall eat straw like the ox; but the serpent—its food shall be dust! They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, says the LORD.
Luke 21:5-19 p 856
5When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, 6“As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.” 7They asked him, “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?” 8And he said, “Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and, ‘The time is near!’ Do not go after them. 9“When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.” 10Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; 11there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. 12“But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. 13This will give you an opportunity to testify. 14So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; 15for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. 16You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. 17You will be hated by all because of my name. 18But not a hair of your head will perish. 19By your endurance you will gain your souls.
We are standing here, outside of time. Or, rather, in a wrinkle in time, In the calendar of the cultural year, we are getting close to the end—we have come through the cycle of elections, and are looking at the whirl of holidays: Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s. In the church calendar, we are even closer to the end—next week we will celebrate Christ the King Sunday, which the church marks as the last Sunday in the year, and Advent, starting on Nov 28, will be the beginning of our new year.
Here, in Luke’s Gospel, we have a weird wrinkle as well. Jesus is speaking to the disciples as they are in Jerusalem- right before the Passover, in the middle of Holy Week. He has already had his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, his Palm Sunday moment. And while they are admiring the Temple, Jesus tells them it will all be thrown down. To the people in Luke’s community, who are hearing this a generation later, this has already happened—the Temple was destroyed in 70 CE by the Romans.
And we, sitting here in modern times, are caught in a kind of time warp. Because what Jesus is talking about is the end—the end of the world. And the disciples ask for signs, so they can be prepared, but what Jesus gives them instead is a non-answer, a speech about wars, and insurrections, and famines and plagues, and persecutions and betrayals and death. Not very fun, and more than a little scary. Certainly not what they were hoping for. But we see, today, wars and rumors of war, famine, plague—cholera in Haiti, devastation in Indonesia, Christians being persecuted and murdered in Iraq, people going hungry in our own counties—and we don’t know what to make of all this.
And then, Jesus says this even more odd and less comforting thing. After telling the disciples about persecutions and arrest, being brought before the authorities, betrayals by families, being put to death, Jesus says “This will give you an opportunity to testify”. “An opportunity”—Frankly, Jesus, this sounds like cold comfort to me. A sales pitch gone wrong. “This will give you an opportunity to testify”
The adult classes in both Hector and Lodi are studying the book of Revelation. We are using the excellent study guide put out by the Presbyterian Women, written by Barbara Rossing. Dr Rossing is a professor of New Testament at Luther Seminary in Chicago. Her testimony is this: the book of Revelation to John, the last book in our Bible, is a book of comfort and hope. It is a book of love, given to us by a loving God. Now that does not mean there are not some terrible and scary images in it. But through it all, it is a testimony of comfort.
The book of Revelation is a specific kind of literature, a type common in the first century and even earlier, called “an apocalypse” Apocalypse comes from the Greek word for “unveiling”, or drawing back the curtain. This passage in Luke is known as “the little apocalypse”. And what we find in apocalypse, strangely, is comfort, because what we see when we draw back the curtain is this: the vision we are given in Isaiah, the vision we just heard. In that vision, in that reality—and it is the realest reality, the truest truth—we see that God is still creating, that God is with us. We see what actually is, rather than just the way things appear to be. We see this vision of the world the way God intends it—that people will live long and healthy lives, that someone who dies at 100 will still be considered a spring chicken, that people will actually plant things, and have the freedom to eat what they produce, instead of growing for another, that people will actually build lives, and have the freedom and grace and time to live in them, instead of always struggling for somebody else. No more will there be weeping and crying, no more will there be infant mortality or people unable to live out their full life times. I will delight in my people, says God. Be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating, says the Lord.
And that is what we are called to testify to and about. That is WHO we are called to testify to and about. Now, I know, nearly all of us here are not comfortable with “testify”. It brings up scary images of street preachers, or people who button hole you in a coercive and aggressive way. When we talked with Session about what the Book of Order describes as the first responsibility of an elder, which is “To provide opportunities for evangelism to be learned and practiced in and by the church” (BOO G-10.0102a), there was a palpable wave of uncomfortableness—and silence-- around the table.
But what Jesus gave the disciples, clustered there, looking at the Temple, is both bad news and good news. It’s almost like a joke. The bad news is things are going to get tough, really tough, BUT this is an opportunity. An opportunity to testify. The good news is I will be with you- This is comfort—the gift of Himself, and of the Holy Spirit. He tells them--“I will give you words and wisdom.”
We are here this morning, because everywhere along the way, somebody has testified. If those early disciples had not testified, there would have been no church. The church grew and expanded. Through the centuries. We are the beneficiaries of the testimony that was brought about by the persecution and oppression of somebody else.
Now, testimony looks like many things. Sometimes it looks like concrete action—feeding people, giving them rides to the doctor, helping them pay the heating bill and have a safe place to live, or a warm shelter at night. Sometimes, testimony also looks like teaching—teaching children in Sunday School, teaching others what you have learned. Sometimes testimony is joys and concerns offered at the Session meting, or in church. Sometimes testimony is simple: “I don’t know how we got through it. It must have been the power of God.”
Testimony always involves what we have seen, what we have known, how we have experienced God at work in the world and in our lives. In two weeks, we will ask those of you have received the seed money grants to speak about that act of faith. And we know that public speaking is the #1 fear on most people’s charts. We all hated it in 2nd grade, and we hate it still. But “do not fear”, Jesus says to us. “Make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance.” So the Christian life is not about having pat answers, having a handy instant response ready. In Revelation, we are told, the saints sing. Mahalia Jackson said she would only sing gospel music, because, “when you sing gospel, you have the feeling there is a cure for what’s wrong.” Listen to what Jesus says “I will give you words, and a wisdom.” There’s a promise there, that God will be with us, that God will see us through, and bear witness through us to others.
David Livingstone, the legendary missionary to Africa, prayed, "Lord, send me anywhere, only go with me. Lay any burden on me, only sustain me." And he testified, "What has sustained me is the promise, 'Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the world."
This is the promise Jesus conveys in the midst of his prophetic warnings of what will yet come. It is the promise that we testify to today. It is the promise for all time, and even for the end of time. Amen.
Isaiah 65:17-25 p 607
17For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. 18But be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating; for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy, and its people as a delight. 19I will rejoice in Jerusalem, and delight in my people; no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it, or the cry of distress. 20No more shall there be in it an infant that lives but a few days, or an old person who does not live out a lifetime; for one who dies at a hundred years will be considered a youth, and one who falls short of a hundred will be considered accursed. 21They shall build houses and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit. 22They shall not build and another inhabit; they shall not plant and another eat; for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be, and my chosen shall long enjoy the work of their hands. 23They shall not labor in vain, or bear children for calamity; for they shall be offspring blessed by the LORD— and their descendants as well. 24Before they call I will answer, while they are yet speaking I will hear. 25The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, the lion shall eat straw like the ox; but the serpent—its food shall be dust! They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, says the LORD.
Luke 21:5-19 p 856
5When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, 6“As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.” 7They asked him, “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?” 8And he said, “Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and, ‘The time is near!’ Do not go after them. 9“When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.” 10Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; 11there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. 12“But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. 13This will give you an opportunity to testify. 14So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; 15for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. 16You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. 17You will be hated by all because of my name. 18But not a hair of your head will perish. 19By your endurance you will gain your souls.
We are standing here, outside of time. Or, rather, in a wrinkle in time, In the calendar of the cultural year, we are getting close to the end—we have come through the cycle of elections, and are looking at the whirl of holidays: Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s. In the church calendar, we are even closer to the end—next week we will celebrate Christ the King Sunday, which the church marks as the last Sunday in the year, and Advent, starting on Nov 28, will be the beginning of our new year.
Here, in Luke’s Gospel, we have a weird wrinkle as well. Jesus is speaking to the disciples as they are in Jerusalem- right before the Passover, in the middle of Holy Week. He has already had his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, his Palm Sunday moment. And while they are admiring the Temple, Jesus tells them it will all be thrown down. To the people in Luke’s community, who are hearing this a generation later, this has already happened—the Temple was destroyed in 70 CE by the Romans.
And we, sitting here in modern times, are caught in a kind of time warp. Because what Jesus is talking about is the end—the end of the world. And the disciples ask for signs, so they can be prepared, but what Jesus gives them instead is a non-answer, a speech about wars, and insurrections, and famines and plagues, and persecutions and betrayals and death. Not very fun, and more than a little scary. Certainly not what they were hoping for. But we see, today, wars and rumors of war, famine, plague—cholera in Haiti, devastation in Indonesia, Christians being persecuted and murdered in Iraq, people going hungry in our own counties—and we don’t know what to make of all this.
And then, Jesus says this even more odd and less comforting thing. After telling the disciples about persecutions and arrest, being brought before the authorities, betrayals by families, being put to death, Jesus says “This will give you an opportunity to testify”. “An opportunity”—Frankly, Jesus, this sounds like cold comfort to me. A sales pitch gone wrong. “This will give you an opportunity to testify”
The adult classes in both Hector and Lodi are studying the book of Revelation. We are using the excellent study guide put out by the Presbyterian Women, written by Barbara Rossing. Dr Rossing is a professor of New Testament at Luther Seminary in Chicago. Her testimony is this: the book of Revelation to John, the last book in our Bible, is a book of comfort and hope. It is a book of love, given to us by a loving God. Now that does not mean there are not some terrible and scary images in it. But through it all, it is a testimony of comfort.
The book of Revelation is a specific kind of literature, a type common in the first century and even earlier, called “an apocalypse” Apocalypse comes from the Greek word for “unveiling”, or drawing back the curtain. This passage in Luke is known as “the little apocalypse”. And what we find in apocalypse, strangely, is comfort, because what we see when we draw back the curtain is this: the vision we are given in Isaiah, the vision we just heard. In that vision, in that reality—and it is the realest reality, the truest truth—we see that God is still creating, that God is with us. We see what actually is, rather than just the way things appear to be. We see this vision of the world the way God intends it—that people will live long and healthy lives, that someone who dies at 100 will still be considered a spring chicken, that people will actually plant things, and have the freedom to eat what they produce, instead of growing for another, that people will actually build lives, and have the freedom and grace and time to live in them, instead of always struggling for somebody else. No more will there be weeping and crying, no more will there be infant mortality or people unable to live out their full life times. I will delight in my people, says God. Be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating, says the Lord.
And that is what we are called to testify to and about. That is WHO we are called to testify to and about. Now, I know, nearly all of us here are not comfortable with “testify”. It brings up scary images of street preachers, or people who button hole you in a coercive and aggressive way. When we talked with Session about what the Book of Order describes as the first responsibility of an elder, which is “To provide opportunities for evangelism to be learned and practiced in and by the church” (BOO G-10.0102a), there was a palpable wave of uncomfortableness—and silence-- around the table.
But what Jesus gave the disciples, clustered there, looking at the Temple, is both bad news and good news. It’s almost like a joke. The bad news is things are going to get tough, really tough, BUT this is an opportunity. An opportunity to testify. The good news is I will be with you- This is comfort—the gift of Himself, and of the Holy Spirit. He tells them--“I will give you words and wisdom.”
We are here this morning, because everywhere along the way, somebody has testified. If those early disciples had not testified, there would have been no church. The church grew and expanded. Through the centuries. We are the beneficiaries of the testimony that was brought about by the persecution and oppression of somebody else.
Now, testimony looks like many things. Sometimes it looks like concrete action—feeding people, giving them rides to the doctor, helping them pay the heating bill and have a safe place to live, or a warm shelter at night. Sometimes, testimony also looks like teaching—teaching children in Sunday School, teaching others what you have learned. Sometimes testimony is joys and concerns offered at the Session meting, or in church. Sometimes testimony is simple: “I don’t know how we got through it. It must have been the power of God.”
Testimony always involves what we have seen, what we have known, how we have experienced God at work in the world and in our lives. In two weeks, we will ask those of you have received the seed money grants to speak about that act of faith. And we know that public speaking is the #1 fear on most people’s charts. We all hated it in 2nd grade, and we hate it still. But “do not fear”, Jesus says to us. “Make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance.” So the Christian life is not about having pat answers, having a handy instant response ready. In Revelation, we are told, the saints sing. Mahalia Jackson said she would only sing gospel music, because, “when you sing gospel, you have the feeling there is a cure for what’s wrong.” Listen to what Jesus says “I will give you words, and a wisdom.” There’s a promise there, that God will be with us, that God will see us through, and bear witness through us to others.
David Livingstone, the legendary missionary to Africa, prayed, "Lord, send me anywhere, only go with me. Lay any burden on me, only sustain me." And he testified, "What has sustained me is the promise, 'Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the world."
This is the promise Jesus conveys in the midst of his prophetic warnings of what will yet come. It is the promise that we testify to today. It is the promise for all time, and even for the end of time. Amen.
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