Showing posts with label healing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label healing. Show all posts

Sunday, November 16, 2008

John 21:1-25 Finding Jesus in Places of Loss and Devastation

On Wednesday, as I sat downstairs reading John 21, a particular set of questions puzzled me and a particular set of verses struck me. I need to confess to you this morning that those questions and verses couldn’t be further from my mind. Several of my friends in Santa Barbara lost homes in the Tea Fire this week. Parts of my college, Westmont, a place I love deeply, literally burned to the ground. One of my fellow pastors lost his home in Sylmar. I am less worried about why there are exactly 153 fish in the net (I still have no idea by the way), and more worried about them. And I am reading the passage a little differently this morning.

The strange thing is that I probably should have been reading the passage more like this from the beginning. I just didn’t see it. As I read John 20 last Sunday, I was struck by the last two verses:

Jesus performed many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book. But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name

This seems like a conclusion. It seems like the book is over. This is about as real an ending as you can get.

But then we have chapter 21. It seems that the author can’t stop telling the story. He finished writing, but God didn’t finish working. God kept speaking and moving in his community, and he had to keep telling the story of Jesus. So the author keeps writing. It is true of us as well. God keeps changing lives and forcing us to open up to what he is doing. God keeps working, so we keep writing and telling the story, that old, old story in new times and places. So together we read the Scriptures and see God working in our world.

We live in a situation very similar to the situation of those disciples gathered in Galilee. Jesus has died, so he is no longer present in our midst. But Jesus is risen, so he walks among us, both seen and unseen, and the Holy Spirit is constantly our guide. Here on the seashore, Jesus reveals himself again to the disciples. Whether they are in Galilee to escape the danger present in Jerusalem, or because they don’t know what else to do, or because they are waiting for Jesus, Peter decides to go fishing. We know from the other gospels that Peter was a fisherman by trade. The disciples know what they are doing, and engage in a fairly mundane task. They don’t seem to expect Jesus to appear on the shore, but isn’t that just how Jesus likes to work? In surprising ways.

The disciples are gathered, knowing that Jesus has risen, but probably still a little lost as to what his resurrection means for them. They had left everything to follow Jesus, and now the disciples don’t have a teacher to follow throughout Palestine. They are a little aimless, but it is in their aimlessness that Jesus reveals himself to them.

And it is at the end of a long and disappointing night that Jesus chooses to reveal himself. The disciples have toiled all night to catch fish – a job they know well. And they have gained nothing. They are faced with failure and disappointment. But in this failure and disappointment Jesus reveals his presence and brings an abundant blessing of fish.

At daybreak, “Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus. He called out to them, ‘Lads, haven’t you any fish?’ ‘No.’ They replied. He said, throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some. When they did, they were unable to haul in the net because of the large number of fish.”

I imaging that those disciples felt a little like the firefighters in Montecito, Sylmar, and Orange County. Disappointed. Dejected. They knew how to do their jobs, but in one night in Montecito they watched as they failed to keep over 200 homes from burning. In one night in Sylmar, they could not save a mobile home park of 500 residences. Failure. They are unable to do what they are trained to do. And the people are also disappointed and dejected, although I imagine that we relate more to the disciples’ feelings about Jesus’ death. He may have risen, but he doesn’t walk with them teaching throughout the countryside. His absence that night is real absence, just like the loss of homes, businesses, and colleges is real loss. There is joy – for the disciples the resurrection, for us – our lives and safety. The absence and loss are still real. But it is here that Jesus reveals himself and works a miracle.

The disciples get more than they bargained for when they drop that net. They have a net bursting with fish. And the Beloved Disciple gets it. He exclaims, “It is the Lord!” The Beloved Disciple has the eyes to see Jesus even through his loss, toil, and disappointment. He offers a testimony to what he sees, telling the others that Jesus is standing on the shore, and as a result, leading them to Jesus.

I’m learning now, in the midst of these fires and destruction, that there are still people who get it. People who see Jesus on the seashore. People like Russell and Allison Smelley, whose house burnt down only two years after their 15-year-old daughter died of a brain tumor. But they remind us that we “tread lightly in this world” for our citizenship is in heaven. Or the people like Jill Wolf, who told the local media that “they are only things” as she combed through the ashes of her house. Or the students who prayed together while they were locked inside the gym as the campus burned around them. We have been given people like the Beloved Disciple, people with eyes to see, people who get it. They see Jesus standing there, alive and present in the midst of burned neighborhoods, and they point Jesus out to the rest of us.

And it is here, in the midst of failure, loss, and disappointment that Jesus promises the disciples that he will reveal himself to others. This is a call story after all. Peter hauls in a net full of fish, is asked if he loves Jesus more than he loves fishing, and he gets told to care for God’s sheep instead of those fish. We can’t forget that Jesus has called Peter to be a fisher of people, and the catch is large. And Jesus promises that out of Peter’s struggles, failures, and disappointments, Jesus will still bring in a large catch of disciples for the Kingdom of God, in spite of Peter’s very failure to acknowledge Jesus in his most important hour, right before the crucifixion. Peter hears his restoration with his own ears, and he sees this large catch with his own eyes. That morning Jesus brought fish up to the boat, but the disciples had to follow his instructions to cast in their net and then work to bring the fish to Jesus on the shore. Jesus works through the disciples, and the disciples follow Jesus. And they see a huge blessing, a huge harvest coming out of a night of disappointment.

God has been teaching me to have the eyes of the Beloved Disciple, to see Jesus in our midst and to expect a harvest from our faithful response to his instructions in hard times. As Montecito burned, the news spread, and God’s people started praying. The news quickly traveled to area churches and to everyone connected with Westmont in any way. People started praying – for God’s mercy to save a college that transforms so many lives, to protect lives as people evacuated and battled the fire, to save homes, and for the hurricane strength winds to calm down. And you know what? God showed up for us too. While the firefighters did what they were trained to do, toiling through the night, people in Santa Barbara opened their homes to students and friends, reassuring them that though they had to literally run for their lives from the fire, they were not alone. As they battled the flames, God did calm the winds, from strong winds that should have blown for another two days, to calm conditions where lives and homes could be spared. And the same thing happened in Sylmar. People started praying, and God calmed the winds there as well. They had one day of high winds, when it should have been three. We see God standing here, perhaps in a place we wouldn’t have expected, in a place of loss and destruction.

And I am learning to expect a harvest coming out of this destruction as well. If God shows up and brings in a harvest for his Kingdom through the disciples, and then shows up in our own devastation, I am going to expect him to bring in a harvest for his Kingdom through his disciples now as well. And I am already starting to see the signs. Montecito residents have long been reluctant to accept, support, or encourage, the Christian Westmont College in their neighborhood. Westmont is seen as a threat to their way of life, their peace, and their comfort. But people have already begun to say that Montecito residents are glad for Westmont’s presence. The tensions are being lessened as the community sees what a difference it makes to have a community who prays and loves each other and loves the world right at their doorstep. As Westmont proclaims, “It is the Lord” who sustains them, who surrounds them, and who brings them through these struggles stronger and more secure in their faith, they are a witness to the surrounding neighborhood, and I am going to follow the story of the disciples, expecting that testimony to bear fruit, both in Montecito, and through the churches in Sylmar and Orange County.

So if I am following the story of the disciples, what should I expect next? In John 21, the disciples gather with Jesus for a Eucharistic meal. They eat a meal communally…the last of three communion stories in John’s Gospel. But this isn’t the communion meal that we take on Sundays in our churches, enclosed from the community around us by walls. This communion meal is out in the open, surrounded by outsiders, and it includes an expectation that the disciples will serve those outside, drawing in that huge catch of fish. It is the communion meal of a church that is continually going outside its own walls because they realize that Jesus can not be kept inside those walls. They have seen Jesus walk right through the walls to meet them inside, and now they have seen Jesus leave those walls behind to meet them on the Sea of Galilee. Jesus is already out in the community, and just as he drew the fish to the boat, he draws people to himself so that Peter (and the other disciples too) can feed his sheep.

And I do see us following the story of the disciples here too. We are to take the communion meal out into the world, surrounded by people who are not normally part of our community, and we are expected to serve out in the open. We are seeing, again, that Jesus can’t be kept locked inside walls, either the literal walls of our churches and homes, or the invisible walls of our communities and hearts. Jesus is going out into the neighborhoods, calling people to himself, and waiting for us to proclaim that “It is the Lord.” He is waiting for us now, in the middle of these fires, to go out into communities that are devastated, serving them in whatever way is needed, by giving money, helping provide shelter and the basic belongings of a new life, and loving and praying for them as they grieve. And he is waiting for us to continue to go out into the cities long after these fires have passed, still loving those who are broken, and still inviting others to see that it is Jesus who gives us life and breath and every good gift. And still proclaiming that “It is the Lord” in their midst, whether they have the eyes to see or not.

God is still at work, even in places we might not expect, revealing himself to the world in the midst of these fires, reminding us that he works good even in the worst of circumstances, calling us to recognize that “It is the Lord!” in our midst, and leading us out into the middle of broken communities to proclaim his name and serve those Jesus calls to follow him. Let us take communion here this morning, as a community that proclaims his name, and then take his communion and his love out into all the world, loving those Jesus already loves. Amen.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Romans 6:1-23 The Freedom of God

It is at times like these, around America’s patriotic holidays, that I need a reminder of what it means to be a member of the church. Ray Boltz, a Christian musician, has a song that provides just such a reminder. In the chorus, he boldly proclaims:

“I pledge allegiance to the lamb, with all my strength, with all I am. I will seek to honor his commands. I pledge allegiance to the lamb.”

This is not the pledge our children recite in schools, nor is it the proclamation we heard at Independence Day celebrations this weekend. But it should be our proclamation as members of the body of Christ.

Now I do not think that we should hate America, or even that we should necessarily disobey its rules. A little later in the letter to the Romans, Paul will tell the churches to obey their earthly authorities because they also have been appointed by God. But our obedience and allegiance is first and foremost to Christ.

In the first years after the crucifixion, Christians started to be persecuted, first by zealous Jews like Paul, and then by Roman authorities who viewed Christianity as sedition, a horrible crime in their eyes. The Romans were actually correct. Jesus is politically threatening. He calls people to follow him above family, friends, job, and country. The people who follow Jesus are ruled by his blood and their obedience to him, before, and at times instead of, obedience to government officials. So the Romans were actually correct when they realized that the Christians would not give their ultimate allegiance to Rome.

In our Christian history, we have the stories of the martyrs – those Christians who stood by their proclamation of faith in God even when it cost them their lives. There are people like the Bishop Polycarp, who faithfully strengthened his churches when he was being led to his death. Even when he was given multiple chances to deny being a Christian, Polycarp always stood strong until he was finally led into the arena to be killed by wild animals. Polycarp had one choice to make to save his life from the Romans by denying Christ, or to follow Jesus in obedience even to his death.

Justin Martyr was an apologist who tried to convince the Romans to stop condemning Christians for their faith. He explained that Christians were good Roman citizens who followed the laws, cared for the sick, and paid taxes. The one thing that Christians would not do, according to Justin, was offer sacrifices to or worship any god or person besides the God of Jesus Christ. As his name suggests, Justin too was martyred by the Romans.

For all of these martyrs, from the 1st century until today, obedience to Jesus was the goal of their lives. They had tasted the kingdom of God and were pursuing it no matter what the cost. By the time Paul wrote Romans, he had also known suffering and imprisonment, yet he gives a broader perspective reminding us of the work Christ has done and why we seek to live in holiness and obedience.

In America, we like to think of ourselves as free, and as those who offer freedom to people who are oppressed. Modern society has trained us well to make our own decisions and rely only on ourselves. We think we are free.

But when we have experienced the salvation of God, we learn that we were not really free. In Rom 7, Paul tells us that we were controlled by our sinful natures. Look at verse 14:

14We know that the law is spiritual, but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. 15 I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. 16 And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. 17 as it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. 18 I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. 19 For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do – this I keep on doing. 20 Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.

This is who we were. Instead of being free as we thought, we were in bondage and captivity to the powers of sin and death. Paul has many choice phrases for our condition. We were: ruled by sin, mastered by death, obeying evil desires, aroused by sinful passions, and doing what is evil. We are not free. We are in slavery to evil, sin, and death, and we need a redeemer.

Although we were once in slavery to sin and death, we have been set free by the blood of Jesus, and he, the only God, became human and walked the earth among us. He has lived a faithful life where we have fallen short, and then he has been crucified and resurrected on the third day. And we participate in the redemption of Jesus. Look back at chapter 6 verse 3.

“Don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? 4 we were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. 5 If we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly also be untied with him in a resurrection like his. 6 For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body ruled by sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin – 7 because anyone who has died has been set free from sin.

Jesus’ death and resurrection are not abstract ideas which seem good. His death and resurrection are not even historical events which happened to Jesus and which we remember. We actually participate in Jesus’ life, death and resurrection. As we are baptized, the water symbolizes our death to the old life and our rising to new life in Christ. The Holy Spirit draws us into the life of Christ and into the holiness and faithfulness which are his.

|| If this is who we are, people who participate in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ, and who are being drawn up into the holiness of Christ, then Paul is right. Our lives are being transformed as we submit ourselves to the authority of Christ. We surrender what we thought was freedom, and we find that we are truly free only as we serve God and surrender to him. Instead of thinking that freedom means having no restrictions, we learn that we gain greater freedom through disciplined obedience. Just as a gymnast gains the freedom to do more difficult flips by the discipline of 5 hour work outs. Just as the pianist gains the freedom to play a Mozart requiem through the discipline of scales and sight-reading. Our discipline in obedience to Christ gives us the freedom to do even greater works for his kingdom as we are drawn further into the holiness of Christ.

As we live in that holiness, our lives are transformed. Our decisions begin to conform to God’s commands as we participate in his grace. We live more like the Sermon on the Mount, forgiving each other, sharing our lives with each other, and helping the weak and poor. We learn to build one another up, making sure that our words and actions are life-giving instead of life-taking, just as Anny spoke of two weeks ago, and we contribute our gifts and talents to the building up of Christ’s body, which is the church.

This disciplined obedience also means that we live in service to him and not anything else. We do not live in service to our jobs or making money. We are not controlled by the demands of style and high society. We are not restricted by a particular location, but are free to follow obediently, like Jared and Catherine. We realize that our families do not belong to us but are gifts from God, given as a trust for us to care for and lead in obedience to Christ. When obedience to Christ does not conflict with these other areas of our lives, then we are free to offer them obedience below our obedience to Christ. But if following Christ conflicts with the other demands on our lives, our obedience to Christ must come first.

As we participate in the work which God is doing, and as all of the areas of our lives are brought into the patter of Christ, we catch a glimpse of why the martyrs would die for Christ and how they would be able to confess Christ even when their lives are threatened.

The martyrs have been baptized with Christ and have died with him. They knew that they would also be raised to new life with Christ. They had surrendered to Christ in obedience and been disciplined in following him in every area of their lives. So when persecutions came, nothing that people could do could take away their love and obedience to Jesus. They would risk losing their jobs instead of taking advantage of a system that rewarded those who denied Jesus. They would lose friends, relatives, and community members who did not approve of their commitment to Christ, but they had gained citizenship in a new kingdom called Heaven, and they lived only as resident aliens in their own countries. They withstood being thrown in prison, knowing that their witness was not for destruction but was used by God for the spreading of the gospel. They even faced death, but they knew that they had already died with Christ, so no earthly being could kill their souls.

Our brother Paul was another of the many saints who have been martyred throughout the ages. He had seen many sufferings, as he recounts for us in 2 Corinthians 11, beginning in the second half of verse 21:

Whatever anyone else dares to boast about – I am speaking like a fool – I also dare to boast about./ Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am i. Are they Abraham’s descendants? So am I. Are they servants of Christ? (I am out of my mind to talk like this.) I am more. I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again. Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus 1. (40 lashes could kill a person, so the Jews, reduced the number by 1.)here times I was beaten with rods (this is the Roman punishment, given out by Roman authorities). Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly on the move, I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my own people, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false believers. I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food. I have been cold and naked. Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches…….And finally at the end of the list, in chapter 12 verse 9, Paul ends by saying, “The Lord said to me, My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties, for when I am weak, then I am strong.

Paul had been so trained in the obedience of his baptism, that all of those sufferings actually became the strength of Christ and spread the news of the gospel, allowing Paul to do even greater work for the kingdom of God.

As we follow the examples of people like Paul, Justin, and Polycarp, and the thousands of other martyrs throughout history, we are drawn into Christ and transformed into obedient children of God. we become people who will live in obedience to Christ no matter what the cost, and giving up our obedience to other things that desire our service and worship. L

As we seek to live into our baptism with Christ, let us today reaffirm our baptismal vows. As the liturgy appears on the screen, I invite you to consider the words you are proclaiming. At the end of the liturgy, there will be time for you to remember your baptism as you come forward to the water, dip your fingers in the bowl, and trace the sign of the cross on your forehead. If you desire either prayer or confession before you approach the waters, please approach Pastor Susan or Pastor Anny on either side of the altar, or feel free to kneel at the front. A video will be playing while you pray.

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Life Lessons for 2008

Last night, I sat in a living room I have been in many times before, with family friends I've known since I was eight. We gathered to celebrate the new year and to watch "The Ultimate Gift." I won't spoil the movie, but a man is given instructions in his grandfather's will for a series of tasks, and along the way, he meets a little girl with leukemia.

As the movie played, I sat there doing everything in my power not to think about another girl. It's been a year and a half since my friend Alyssa died from cancer. Looking at the TV screen, I could see Lyssa's face and smile. I looked around the room at people smiling and wondered when I'll be normal again, when the word cancer will not give me flashbacks to Alyssa and thus make me sob uncontrollably.

Of course, I know that you never really are "normal" again. The loss and pain never go away; you just learn to live with them. Somehow though, I'm glad that I see Lyssa's face. I'm not glad that entire rooms of people think I'm having a nervous breakdown, but then somehow I don't seem to care about it all that much.

Lyssa was a gift. I will never forget the day that her father stood up in church and said that her death was not a tragedy because every day with her for fifteen years was a gift. If when I die, I am even half the woman that Lyssa was at 15, I will have lived a life worthy of my Creator and her friendship.

So I'm glad for Lyssa's face, the pain and the memories because Lyssa reminds me what matters. This past year and a half, I hope I've learned more to slow down for simple joys like fresh strawberries. I hope I've laughed more often and loved more deeply.

I never make new year's resolutions, but perhaps this year is the year to start. I resolve to view each day as Alyssa did, as a gift to be treasured; to make more time for those I love, to see them as the gifts that they are; to keep loving deeply, in spite of how badly it hurts to say goodbye.

Thank you, Lyssa for teaching me to live and love passionately every moment. I hope that one day I will finsih the race as faithfully as you, as we join together in praise around the throne of God.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Notes on the Anglican Communion

I have been meaning to write up my notes from when Lord George Carey, the 103rd Archbishop of Canterbury from 1990-2002, came to speak at Duke Divinity School last year. The title of his talk was "The Anglican Communion: Past Blessings, Present Challenges, Future Hopes." I found his perspective very interesting, especially as he deliniated the many reasons why the worldwide Anglican Communion could not support the American election of Bishop Robinson. Here are my notes from the day.

The Anglican Communion: Past Blessings, Present Challenges, Future Hopes
Lord George Carey

Past Blessings


The Lambeth Conference of 1867 was gathered to deal with a crisis in the church over the uneasy growth of the Church of England. It was called by the colonies, and it eventually led to reformation in the Church of England. There were 76 bishops present with only one black bishop, and the Bishops of London and York were abstaining. The 16th century church was profoundly broken by the break with Rome, and the 17th century had seen excessive violence. By the 19th century, the church was debating theology. By the 1920 conference, women were included on the platform.


Present Challenges


The juridicial structure has been resisted, leading to the increasing independence of the various communions which had only to follow the Book of Common Prayer. The Bishops meet together for various functions such as overseeing liturgical development, but there are many strong leaders and indiginous pastors now which have often abandoned the Book of Common Prayer and a common ministry.

There are serious threats to the unity of the Communion. The move to ordain women was so gradual and so discussed that schism was avoided. The Church of England still does not recognize women bishops in England, for example, and there is still great discussion over the ordination of women versus the ordination of women as bishops; however, the church still remains in communion.

Fast footwork and close communion are needed to prevent schism in the current emergency, the debate over homosexuality. This debate has been quick. The debate has been going on since before 1990 when Lord Carey became Archbishop, and he was a controversial figure in the debate. At the 1998 Lambeth Conference, Resolution 110 clarified the position of the Anglican Communion stating that practicing homosexuality was incompatible with Holy Scripture. Five years later, the United States' decision to accept an openly gay priest threw the church into debate (August 2003). There have been many meetings in the Anglican Communion for discussions with homosexuals, but unfortunately, the discussion with the General Synod in the U.S. was "dead in the water."

The debate over homosexuality is an emergency and causing division because it is a bigger issue than just the acceptance of homosexual priests. There are five major theological and ecclesial reasons why the Anglican Communion could not agree with the U.S.'s decision. 1)The acceptance of homosexuals was a departure from the ordinal and theological teaching of ministry that priests have to be either celibate or married. 2)It was a departure from the orthodox interpretation of the Bible which is universal in its condemnation of homosexuality. Every group, even those supporting homosexual ordination, with which the Anglican Communion has been in communication agrees that Scripture speaks against homosexuality. 3)It was a departure from the Anglican understanding of the sacramentality of marriage. 4)It was a departure from the understanding of unity. By choosing to forsake the discussions and accept an openly homosexual priest, the United States was proclaiming that they had no need of the rest of the Anglican Communion. 5)It was a departure from the Anglican understanding of authority because the United States church ignored the Communion's decisions.

Hope for the Future

Pray for resolution that does not involve schism. The leaders and parishioners need to engage with the conflict and with the problems of the world to avoid the worst possibility, that the minority leaves. Once churches divide, union is rare, and the split between the Church of England and the Methodists is an example. Hope can be sustained if groups stop threatening to leave and realize that the conservative voice is not always heeded and that some behavior done in disagreement is un-Christian.



Unfortunately, increasing schism seems to be the reality, so Lord Carey's fears about division in the Anglican Communion are more and more real. He is correct that once churches divide, they tend to remain divided, even when the churches eventually come to align closely in their theology. Issues such as the validity of ordination and leadership tend to keep them separated. While the Wesleyan Methodists, Free Methodists, and Nazarenes divided from the Methodist Episcopal (current United Methodist Church) for different reasons, none of them have united with each other or reunited with the UMC. Attempts at reconciliation between the Wesleyans and Free Methodists were hindered by different positions on the ordination of women. Attempts at reconciliation between the Free Methodists and United Methodists would be greatly hindered by the pluralism and hesitancy to follow Biblical discipline by some leaders in the United Methodist Church as well as the historic theological "conservativism" (for lack of a better term) by the Free Methodists. While I do not fault the founders of Free Methodism for their actions following the removal of their ordination credentials by the Methodist Episcopal Church when the Free Methodists spoke out against slavery and discrimination against Blacks and the poor, our division is still a hindrance to our witness to the Kingdom of God and to a Savior who has come to reconcile us with God and one another. All of our prayers should be with the Anglican Communion and for reconciliation within our divided churches.

Thursday, April 5, 2007

Sin that Marks Our Bodies

Earlier this year, I sat down for lunch with Amey, an African-American first-year student. The goal was to hear each others' stories and to know the pain of growing up as a Black child in the South. In the process of that conversation, I mentioned that a faculty member had marginalized me in a lecture, unintentionally, and broken me once again. Amey's gift to me was her recognition that I was hurt, even though the professor did not mean to hurt me. She refused to differentiate between the pain and oppression she experienced growing up in the South and the pain and oppression I was experiencing as a Divinity student. Even now as I think back on that conversation, I am so blessed by Amey's ability to look beyond the Black-White characterization of the South. Her recognition was that oppression, marginalization, and racism are always wrong.
The problem I am trying to articulate is not that I am oppressed more than others, the problem is that oppression exists in our churches in any form. We are made in the image and likeness of God, all of us, no matter our skin color, social status, economic class, or city of origin. We reveal God to our brothers and sisters as they reveal God to us. Since we are created in God's image, we, all of us, are icons, windows through which we see God. When one person is oppressed by another, when one person is ignored, then we are guilty. We are like the teachers who were guilty because they claimed to see. We do not love our brothers and sisters when we marginalize one of them, and as John tells us, if we do not love our neighbors, we do not love God. We are not competing over oppression at the Divinity School. We are trying to faithfully tell our brothers and sisters that their inability to see us is a refusal to view us as icons of our Lord and as humans redeemed by God.
Last week I wrote that "our bodies bear the scars of the attacks against us." Our bodies are marked. We are one church, and the oppression of one of us marks all of our bodies with the scars. It is not okay to recognize the racism perpetuated against one group without recognizing the racism perpetrated against other groups. It is not okay to discuss the social construction of one race without discussing the social construction of the others. Even as we repent of slavery, segregation, and Jim Crow laws, too often we either allow or perpetrate the oppression and marginalization of others. We, the church, the redeemed of God, still perpetuate the sins of racism.
Almighty God, our creator, redeemer, and sustainer, open our eyes to our sins of not seeing your face in the brothers and sisters around us. Help us bring healing instead of pain to the broken and ignored in our midst.

Sunday, January 28, 2007

Ps 71:1-8, Jer 1:4-10

Psalm 71

1 In you, LORD, I have taken refuge;
let me never be put to shame.

2 In your righteousness, rescue me and deliver me;
turn your ear to me and save me.

3 Be my rock of refuge,
to which I can always go;
give the command to save me,
for you are my rock and my fortress.

4 Deliver me, my God, from the hand of the wicked,
from the grasp of those who are evil and cruel.

5 For you have been my hope, Sovereign LORD,
my confidence since my youth.

6 From birth I have relied on you;
you brought me forth from my mother's womb.
I will ever praise you.

7 I have become like a portent to many,
but you are my strong refuge.

8 My mouth is filled with your praise,
declaring your splendor all day long.

Jeremiah 1:4-10

The Call of Jeremiah

4 The word of the LORD came to me, saying,

5 "Before I formed you in the womb I knew [a] you,
before you were born I set you apart;
I appointed you as a prophet to the nations."

6 "Ah, Sovereign LORD," I said, "I do not know how to speak; I am too young."

7 But the LORD said to me, "Do not say, 'I am too young.' You must go to everyone I send you to and say whatever I command you. 8 Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you," declares the LORD.

9 Then the LORD reached out his hand and touched my mouth and said to me, "I have put my words in your mouth. 10 See, today I appoint you over nations and kingdoms to uproot and tear down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant."

At the beginning of every semester, my college pastor used to stand up in chapel and have us get our bearings. He would say, “We’re in Murchison Gym, Westmont College, Montecito, California, United States of America, Western hemisphere, planet Earth, Solar System, Milky Way Galaxy, Universe, Mind of God.” This morning I want us to situate ourselves according to another set of bearings. Where are we? We are in Glencoe United Methodist Church, in the line of John Wesley, the Church of England, the church catholic, and the first disciples. We are followers of Christ Jesus and the LORD, | the God of Israel, of Adam and Eve, of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, of Job and Nehemiah, and of the psalmists and the prophet Jeremiah. That’s where we are. We are part of a community who knows the true God and worships him and declares his glory in our whole lives.

The writer of Psalm 71 is like us, a part of the community of God who has seen God’s faithfulness and been taught the ways that God has acted in history. That is why he, the writer is probably male, that is why he can write a lament psalm which complains about his problem, rests in God’s promises, and praises God even in his oppression. He knows the LORD to be a God of surprises and miracles. He serves the God who gave Abraham and Sarah a child when Sarah was ninety years old, the God who heard the cries of his people in Egypt and raised up Moses to deliver them from pharaoh, and the God who gave Israel king David and promised that he would always be with his people.

The psalmist knows that god is with him, so he declares his reliance on the LORD, using a series of metaphors which show God’s protection. God is our refuge, our rock, and our fortress, and I can’t help but picture the psalmist’s words. The temple was the refuge for Israel, the place where they could seek safety from those who were attacking them. However, in my mind I picture the storm cellar in the Wizard of Oz. As the tornado approached, the family ran around the yard gathering the things they needed, and they rushed to lift the door to the storm cellar, climb in, and get the door shut tight where they would be protected from the winds that could carry them away. Of course, the storm still struck, but they where sheltered underground. In verse 1, God is our refuge; though the storm may strike, we are given refuge in the presence of Christ.

What about the rock in verse 3? I come from the West Coast where earthquakes are normal. In the early ‘90’s, a massive earthquake occurred in Northridge, near Los Angeles. It turned out that doorways and hallways were not the only place you wanted to be when the earth started moving. After the quake, we learned that part of a nearby town was built on bedrock, and part of it was built on fill. When the ground shook, the buildings that were built on the rock stood firm while the buildings built on fill became split-level houses. Whole neighborhoods had to be condemned. For some reason, we like to put our hope in the fill, in things that will crumble. We grasp for money which collapses with one stock market crash. We build an increasingly powerful military which still cannot protect us from attacks like Pearl Harbor or September 11th. We put trust in the government which cannot rescue us from joblessness, loneliness, and the increasing cost of health care. Fortunately for us, God is a rock, not fill; when the ground beneath us begins to shake, we can stay standing on the rock that does not crumble.

It is this constant security that the psalmist has found in God which has allowed him to put his hope and trust in the LORD. In verse 5, he writes, “For you have been my hope, Sovereign LORD, my confidence since my youth. From birth I have relied on you; you brought me forth from my mother’s womb.” It is only through the LORD that we exist at all; unless the LORD gives us life and breath, we will not survive today. He has given us the gift of life and then walked with us since our birth. Have you thanked God for your life lately? | Where else can you see God’s hand in your life? |

Has he given you people to encourage you when you thought that your life would never get better? Did he place you in a Christian family where you were raised in the church or give you a friend who told you about God’s love for the first time? What gifts has he given you to help others along the Christian journey? In what ways has God formed you as his unique child? |

Jeremiah was formed to be a prophet to the nations; he was put together with specific gifts which God would use to speak to the world. He was made bold to speak against the kings of Israel. He was given life to serve God as a prophet, as a person who would follow God even when everyone else around him turned away. He was called to live a life of obedience, and most of all to speak for God to Israel. He was told to preach, to tell God’s story.

Jeremiah was not excited about God’s call. He reacted with an excuse. Jeremiah said, “I do not know how to speak, I am too young.” He sounds like Moses who insisted so strongly that he could not speak for God, so God ended up giving him Aaron to speak on his behalf. He sounds like us. “I am too young to have anything worthwhile to say. I’m too busy to help my neighbor change her flat tire. I’m too poor to have anyone listen to me. I’m too old to speak to these younger generations.” We make excuses when God calls. What are your excuses? |

Consider today how God is calling you. It is up to the church to tell the story of Jesus who died on the cross and rose again to save the world from sin, who loves each of the children he has made, and who is the rock we can stand on when our lives start to shake. If we do not go, who will God raise up to go in our place? We are all called to be like Jeremiah, sharing God’s good news with the nations and calling all people to serve God. We are all called to serve our neighbors and to love our neighbors just as Christ served and loved us. Perhaps this is why our passage from Psalm 71 ends the same way Jeremiah ends: with the proclamation of God’s word.

The psalmist ends this section saying, “I will ever praise you. I have become like a portent to many, but you are my strong refuge. My mouth is filled with your praise, declaring your splendor all day long.” Our lives should be a ceaseless expression of our praise. If we have taken time to consider the work of God in our lives and in the beauty of the surrounding creation, we can offer up praise to our LORD who is worthy of our love and service.

But praising God all day long does not have to mean that we stand on the street corner declaring the judgment and wrath of God. It means letting our lives and words glorify Jesus in all of our actions. We praise God at our jobs by doing our best work with the gifts God has given us, by being honest in all of our dealings, in avoiding the latest office gossip. We praise God in our homes by loving our spouses as Christ loves us, by viewing our children as gifts from God, by avoiding unneeded extravagances, and by opening our homes to those around us. We praise God with our time by limiting our commitments, so we have time to hear God, by spending our time serving others, and by making time for unexpected opportunities to help those in need.

And when we live our lives to the glory of God, we are more able to hear how God wants us to declare his splendor. We are ready to hear his voice asking us to work in Mississippi or teach a Sunday school class. We are waiting for him to tell us to start a ministry to children in the neighborhoods around the church or to use our gifts and expertise serving on a church committee. Consider how God is calling you to preach his word, to declare his splendor to the world, and know that you are not alone. Remember where we are. | We are in Glencoe United Methodist Church, in the line of John Wesley, the Church of England, the church catholic, and the first disciples. We are followers of Christ Jesus and the LORD, | the God of Israel, of Adam and Eve, of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, of Job and Nehemiah, and of the psalmists and the prophet Jeremiah. We are part of a community who knows the true God and worships him and declares his glory in our whole lives.

Praise be to God. Amen.

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Job 23 Finding God in Suffering

Church is described as the people of God, body of Christ and temple of the Job

1 Then Job replied:

2 "Even today my complaint is bitter;
his hand
[a] is heavy in spite of [b] my groaning.

3 If only I knew where to find him;
if only I could go to his dwelling!

4 I would state my case before him
and fill my mouth with arguments.

5 I would find out what he would answer me,
and consider what he would say to me.

6 Would he vigorously oppose me?
No, he would not press charges against me.

7 There the upright can establish their innocence before him,
and there I would be delivered forever from my judge.

8 "But if I go to the east, he is not there;
if I go to the west, I do not find him.

9 When he is at work in the north, I do not see him;
when he turns to the south, I catch no glimpse of him.

10 But he knows the way that I take;
when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold.

11 My feet have closely followed his steps;
I have kept to his way without turning aside.

12 I have not departed from the commands of his lips;
I have treasured the words of his mouth more than my daily bread.

13 "But he stands alone, and who can oppose him?
He does whatever he pleases.

14 He carries out his decree against me,
and many such plans he still has in store.

15 That is why I am terrified before him;
when I think of all this, I fear him.

16 God has made my heart faint;
the Almighty has terrified me.

17 Yet I am not silenced by the darkness,

by the thick darkness that covers my face.

Footnotes:

  1. Job 23:2 Septuagint and Syriac; Hebrew / the hand on me
  2. Job 23:2 Or heavy on me in

It seems that everywhere we look these days, there is another tragedy, another sorrow confronting us. Some are big. The war in Afghanistan. The genocide in Rwanda. The riots in Mexico. In some strange way, these big sorrows are easier to deal with. We pronounce judgment, but out lives are not shattered. | There is another kind of sorrow that is closer to home. A family member commits suicide. The police officer who normally sits next to you in the pew is killed in the like of duty. A car accident leaves a vibrant pastor paralyzed. This is where our scripture lesson this morning finds me, and it seems that it is also where Job confronts you. Your friends and family members are battling serious illnesses, and we are left to wonder why and even more, to find our way through the maze.

I must confess to you this morning that these hard times have left me confused many times over the past year, and there have been no easy answers. In August 2005, a good friend of mine named Alyssa was found unresponsive in her bed. She was 14, a student in my youth group, and both a friend, and a daughter of friends. I would like to share her story with you today. The day after her first seizure, I boarded a plane and flew to North Carolina for the first time. I spent the next several days on the phone and on my knees as Alyssa laid in a drug-induced coma in ICU while doctors ran tests and attempted to stabilize her condition, and eventually diagnosed her with an inoperable brain tumor. | And I wrestled with God while Alyssa became my personal Job.

In Job 1 we learn that Job is a blameless and upright man who serves God, even offering sacrifices for his children’s sins. Job’s life is going well; he is wealthy, a respected man in his community, and he has been blessed with 7 sons and 3 daughters. Suddenly we are transported into the heavenly realm. The adversary challenges God. 1:8 “Then the Lord said to the adversary, ‘Have you considered my servant Job? There is no one on earth like him; he is possessing of integrity and upright, a man who fears God and shuns evil.’” 1:9 “Does Job fear God for nothing?” the adversary replied. 1:11 “But stretch out your hand and strike everything he has, and he will surely curse you to your face.” So the adversary gains permission, and Job’s flocks are carried off and his children are killed in a storm. Then Job himself is afflicted, and his body is racked with pain and illness. And Job tears his robe in lament and falls to the ground, and he sits in the ashes, publicly lamenting his loss and pain. And Job’s wife says, 2:10 “Are you still remaining in your integrity? Curse God and die!”

From the very beginning, Job certainly teaches us that life can be difficult, painful, and full of temptation, even, or perhaps especially for God’s faithful servants. Life is not always sunshine and roses, in spite of popular books and preachers. Job has lived well his whole life long. He has worshipped the Lord Almighty, and he isn’t even an Israelite. The Bible tells us that he comes from the lands of the pagan Gentiles. And it is Job’s very faithfulness that brings the attacks and sufferings from the adversary. Job is in good company. Jeremiah was the only true prophet left in Israel, and he had to announce the coming defeat and exile of God’s people. He was despised and rejected, and in the end he was taken captive with the rest of unfaithful Israel. Jesus spent three years teaching his disciples and caring for the people. He was faithful in every way that Israel had not been. Yet when it mattered, he too was despised and rejected. His disciples slept while he prayed in anguish and then they fled and denied him, and he was stripped and beaten and hung on a cross for the world to see his failure. Stephen stood before his people to share the good news of Christ’s saving power, and they rose up against him and stoned him while he prayed for God’s forgiveness for those throwing stones.

Unfortunately, we cannot push this pain into the past because it confronts our own lives. Part of our struggle is that good people perish, and Alyssa was no exception. She was faithful, listening to God and serving him constantly. She was preparing to serve on the worship team to help people draw closer to her Lord. She was full of the life and joy of the Holy Spirit. That joy and life never left through her seizures, medical procedures, and chemotherapy and radiation to battle her brain tumor, but they also did not free her from suffering. Over the course of a year, Alyssa lost much of her sight, her short-term memory, her physical agility, and her normal life. But Alyssa paralleled Job in another way: She never let go of God. She prayed, and she worshipped. She came to church, and trusted Jesus, and loved deeply.

It is in part this continual clinging to God that sets Job apart, and that helps us wrestle with our response to suffering. Repeatedly, we are told that Job is a man possessing of integrity, and the temptation offered by his wife is to relinquish that integrity, to let go of God. Job reminds us of another man who refused go let go of God. Jacob wrestled with God all night, and in the end, he becomes the patriarch Israel, the father of a nation. Fortunately for us, Job also resists this temptation to turn away, and we see him wrestle with God for 36 agonizing chapters.

And so we end up in chapter 23, just one of Job’s responses to his friends’ accusations. Job’s complaint is bitter. His three friends surround him on every side, preaching the conventional wisdom that suffering is a punishment for sin. Like the man born blind in John 9 the pain becomes his fault. But Job does not have Jesus to announce that Job has not sinned, so he seeks his vindication from God.

23:2 “Even today my complaint is bitter; his hand is heavy in spite of my groaning. 3 If only I knew where to find him; if only I could go to his dwelling! 4 I would state my case before him and fill my mouth with arguments. 5 I would find out what he would answer me, and consider what he would say to me.”

Job certainly does not fear speaking the truth. He knows that he does not deserve suffering; he knows that he has been faithful, and he is seeking God to tell him so. After all Job knows God’s promises.

23:6 “Would he vigorously oppose me? No he would not press charges against me. 7 There the upright can establish their innocence before him, and there I would be delivered from my judge.”

God will not continue to oppress him when he is judged according to his activities. The Biblical story until now confirms Job’s view. Abraham was given a son, Lot was rescued from the midst of wicked people, Israel was brought out of suffering in Egypt, and they were brought into the land flowing with milk and honey. Perhaps Job has neglected Genesis and the entry of sin and death into the fallen world where the innocent suffer alongside the wicked.

Regardless, Job feels abandoned, but he never stops seeking God’s face.

8 But if I go to the east, he is not there; if I go to the west, I do not find him. 9 When he is at work in the north, I do not see him; when he turns to the south, I catch no glimpse of him 10 But he knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold. 11 My feet have closely followed his steps; I have kept to his way without turning aside. 12 I have not departed from the commands of his lips; I have treasured the words of his mouth more than my daily bread.”

Even in the midst of his suffering, Job can continue to affirm his passion for God and declare his own faithfulness, but he cannot find God. Job sounds like Jesus on the cross crying the words of Psalm 22. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” “My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest.”

It seems that the suffering is only to continue. Job must endure seven more chapters of his friends’ accusations. The Psalmist will continue his lament for another 28 verses, and Jesus will die hanging on that cross. Our suffering endures in this world as well. Those of us around Alyssa watched helpless as she continued to grow weaker this summer. Her parents had to explain to her, again and again, that she had a brain tumor and would not survive. Eventually she recognized almost no one. The passionate athlete and musician slowly became confined to her bed. And those of us around Alyssa suffered as well. We had questions for God, and we were beginning to grieve. It was Alyssa who reminded us that suffering and death is not the end of the story.

God came to Job in the whirlwind, finally answering Job’s pleas to confront God. The scene was not the one Job had expected; God was questioning him not the other way around. Job was confronted with the majesty of God’s creation, and he learned that the dangerous things which God has created are beautiful because they are created. The death and destruction they cause are not beautiful, but the rain, the hail, the lightening, the lion are all beautiful because God has created them that way. There is a beauty in the unpredictability of God’s creation because there is also an unpredictability in God. It includes his decision to become incarnate in the form of a baby, and it includes the innocent suffering of God on the cross.

Job is confronted with the beauty and goodness of God, but he never receives the answers to his questions about suffering; he is never told what we knew from the beginning: his suffering came because of his faithfulness not because he lacked it. Still, Job was redeemed. He received the answer of God’s presence, and his questions somehow melted away when he was face-to-face with God. Remember the adversary’s challenge to God? That Job would curse him to his face? Here too, Job resists the temptation.

42:11 “Then Job replied to the Lord: 2 I know that you can do all things; no purpose of yours can be thwarted. 3 You asked ‘Who is this that obscures my plans without knowledge?’ Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know. 4 You said, ‘Listen now and I will speak; I will question you and you shall answer me.’ 5 My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you. 6 Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes.”

Likewise, Jesus’ cry from the cross is incomplete without the story of the resurrection. God had not abandoned Job, and he had not abandoned Jesus either. The Father and the Spirit raised the Son on the third day, defeating once and for all death and the Ruler of this world. So we cling to God even in our pain, and we seek his face while we pray for Christ’s return and the New Jerusalem to come in its fullness.

Rev 21 “And I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Now the dwelling of God is with humans, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

Creation will be restored to perfect relationship with God, and we will worship before the throne.

And how does Alyssa’s story end? In joy and sorrow, grief and hope. On July 4, 2006, one month after her 15th birthday, Alyssa’s body succumbed to her 11 month long battle with cancer. With her friends and family by her side, she was sung across the Jordan to meet her Lord face-to-face, just as she had sought him all along. And we who love her are left behind to grieve. There is an emptiness in our hearts that will only be filled when we join Alyssa in the presence of our Lord. We are spending all of our time with God crying out in desperation and we are doing the next thing, “simply because it is next.”

But I mentioned joy and hope. Through her whole life, Alyssa taught us to laugh, to live life with joyful freedom, and we continue to do so. Throughout her illness, Alyssa listened to a song called For the Moments I Feel Faint by Relient K. One of Alyssa’s closest friends wrote, “I was just thinking, that maybe this song is her and God’s gift to us…a reminder of God’s love and grace. It’s like her reminder to us to never underestimate her Jesus…our Jesus…the Jesus she is dancing with at this moment.” It goes like this:

Am I at the point of no improvement?
What of the death I still dwell in?
I try to excel, but I feel no movement.
Can I be free of this unreleasable sin?

I throw up my hands
"Oh, the impossibilities"
Frustrated and tired
Where do I go from here?
Now I'm searching for the confidence I've lost so willingly
Overcoming these obstacles is overcoming my fear

Never underestimate my Jesus.
You're telling me that there's no hope.
I'm telling you you’re wrong.
Never underestimate my Jesus
When the world around you crumbles
He will be strong

I think I can't, I think I can't
But I think you can, I think you can
Gather my insufficiencies and
place them in your hands, place them in your hands, place them in your hands

Never underestimate my Jesus.
You're telling me that there's no hope.
I'm telling you you’re wrong.
Never underestimate my Jesus
When the world around you crumbles
He will be strong, He will be strong

Jesus is strong, even in our weakness and suffering. Our hope, even in that suffering, is in our Lord Jesus Christ and his coming kingdom. Maranatha! Lord Come Quickly! Amen.