Called to Suffering

There is nothing that makes me angrier as a pastor than “prosperity preachers” who tell their followers that by becoming a Christian nothing but blue skies and rose gardens are in their futures.  These purveyors of a false theology are both deceitful in their presentation of the gospel and a danger to those who follow them.  Imagine my delight then, when reading this week’s lectionary readings I ran across two passages which refute such nonsense head-on.

The first has to do with Saul’s conversion (Acts 9).  Saul is on his way to Damascus when he struck blind and thrown off his horse by a lightning bolt (so to speak) from heaven.  He has a conversation with the risen Jesus and instructed to go on to Damascus and await further instruction.

Meanwhile in Damascus, Ananias, a follower of the Way (the name used for the earliest Christians) has another conversation with Jesus.  It goes like this:

Now there was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, “Ananias.” He answered, “Here I am, Lord.” The Lord said to him, “Get up and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul. At this moment he is praying, and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight.” But Ananias answered, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem; and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name.” But the Lord said to him, “Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel; I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.”

Did you notice that last line?  “I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.”   Need I say more?

The second passage (John 21) is not as blatant as the one from Acts, but it nevertheless is a slap upside the head of those who promise their followers (not Jesus’ followers necessarily) a prosperous and happy life with no worries and lots of money to buy whatever it is they need.  The resurrected Jesus is having a conversation with Peter on the shore of Lake Galilee.  It goes like this:

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep. Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.” (He said this to indicate the kind of death by which he would glorify God.) After this he said to him, “Follow me.”

Again, notice these sentences:  “Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.”   The writer of the gospel tells us that Jesus is telling Peter how he is going to die.  Further I read it to also tell us that Peter is going to be taken/led places that he does not want to go.

Can it be any clearer that a life lived in Christ does not necessarily lead to a person becoming prosperous, at least as the world defines prosperity?  As far as I know and legend tells it, everyone of the eleven remaining disciples (save John) died a martyr’s death.  And speaking of legends, let me end this post with one I shared in a sermon several years ago.

There is an ancient book called the Acts of Peter which tells of Peter’s last days.
It seems Peter was in Rome when the Emperor Nero started a savage persecution of Christians.
Some of Peter’s friends,
fearing for his life,
convinced Peter to leave the city.
Walking away from Rome,
more than a little fearful,
Peter set out along the Appian way.
He was an old man now,
weary of all his journeying for Christ,
not sure of what he should do now,
or where he should go.

All his life he had expected to see Jesus return,
and now at the end this seemed more like wishful thinking than anything else.
little more than a pipedream.
But as Peter trudged away from Rome,
it is written that he met Jesus on the road.
Jesus was going towards the city.
In Latin Peter asked Jesus, “Quo Vadis, Domine?”
meaning “Where are you going, Lord?”
Jesus replied, “I go to Rome to die for you.”

Peter, we are told, stopped, and slowly turned around.
He could not bear to see Jesus die again.
And this time he did not fail.
Peter went back to Rome,
he continued his preaching and teaching,
and in the end he too was arrested and killed,
crucified as his Lord had been crucified,
Peter went back to Rome,
back to his own death.

Can These Bones Live – A Sermon for Pentecost Sunday

The Descent of the Holy Spirit in a 15th centu...

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Thanks to the work of Walter Wink in this article, which helped shape the first half of this sermon.

Israel was hopelessly defeated.
The best and brightest minds, the leaders of the land,
were in exile . . . taken into captivity by the Babylonians.
It was hard for the exiles to see anything good about their situation.
And many saw their defeat as not just the defeat of their nation and their military strength,
but also as a defeat for their God.
Yahweh had lost. 
Marduk, the god of the Babylonians, had won . . . decisively.
Jerusalem had been ransacked,
the Temple, the dwelling place of God Almighty, had been destroyed,
the people who had been left behind were like sheep without a shepherd,
and the exiles were hundreds of miles away from everything they loved or cared about.

As the biblical scholar Walter Wink puts it:
“Yahweh had been proven impotent.
Marduk had prevailed.
The ancient faith had proved inadequate;
it was nothing but the tribal faith of a tiny population on the fringe of a great empire.
Now the exiles were bereft of their land, their temple, their sacrifices–
everything that made them a people with a unique identity and vocation.
They were removed to the heart of empire.
Here were gods of real power,
gods of universal sovereignty,
gods of irresistible might.”
In other words, their freedom had vanished,
hope was all but gone,
and Israel was as good as dead.
And so the people cry out,
"Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely."

And what’s interesting is that when Yahweh addresses the prophet, "Mortal, can these bones live?," Ezekiel can’t even answer yes.
In fact, the only reasonable response is no,
and so Ezekiel’s evasive answer becomes an act of superhuman optimism:
"O Lord God, you know."

And so Yahweh orders Ezekiel to prophesy to these dry bones–
spiritually dead Israel–and to call them back to life.
to declare the unimaginable,
to think the unthinkable,
to call the people to new hope,
grounded not on their past but on the sheer faith that God is about to do the impossible.

And it literally did seem impossible.
No people could be expected to survive the Babylonian experience intact and whole,
and yet God literally resurrected his people and brought them back into their land.
And God did it through nothing but vision.
God promised, "I am going to open your graves,
and bring you up from your graves, O my people;
and I will bring you back to the land of Israel….
I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live."

That is how history is made,
that is how despair is overcome,
and that is how life is resurrected from the dead:
by seeing the impossible and yet still believing that with God anything is possible.
The truth is . . . Israel did go home.
The temple was rebuilt.
Babylon, that eternal empire, fell within 50 years.
And even more: God’s promise to put divine spirit in them,
though not immediately fulfilled,
was repeated by Joel in an even more unbelievable vision:
"I will pour out my spirit on all flesh;
your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
your old men shall dream dreams and your young men shall see visions.
Even on the male and female slaves, in those days,
I will pour out my spirit."

This vision from Joel had to wait 400 years before it became a reality at Pentecost, where, once again,
we find a group of people who had lost their moorings,
people who were uncertain of the way forward,
people who knew all to well the power of death (Wink).
Their friend and teacher Jesus had been killed,
and though he had miraculously come back to life,
now he had left them again.
What were they to do?
And how were they going to do it?

And then the answer came . . . in a sound like the rush of a violent wind,
Once again God was doing the impossible,
and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit became both the fulfillment of Jesus’ promise and the power they needed to do his work and will.

So what does all this have to do with us?

Almost every year at Annual Conference we find out that the United Methodist Church has lost thousands and even tens of thousands of members since the last time we last met.
Anywhere from 40 to 60 thousand people.
As a preacher, upon hearing the statistics one year, once said,
“I had a vision of all these people we had lost.
I saw them, all 60,000 of them,
lying around like dead bodies,
60,000 corpses stacked upon one another.
And I thought to myself,
That’s how many members our church lost in the last year.

This pastor went on to state,
“With this image in mind,
I fully expected someone to say,
Gosh! 60,000 members is a lot to lose.
But no, we went right on ahead with business as usual.
Death, decay and decline are not so tough to deal with once you get used to them.
We come to accept decline and death as normal,
as the way things are.”

After all, so the excuses go,
the church has too many older people in it.
Our church’s are in declining areas.
There’s no growth in these places to speak of.
What did we expect, anyway.
What do we expect?
We expect death, of course,
and death is what we get.

And what does death look like?
Well, the Bible has a picture of death.
It’s found in our first reading for today . . . that valley of dry bones stretched out as far as the eye could see.
It is a picture of death and its horrible effects that Ezekiel is confronted with.
Death reigns there . . . unchallenged and supreme.

What does death look like?
I have seen death in a person.
I have witnessed the gradual wasting away of the flesh down to the bones,
the skin hanging on frail arms and legs due to illness,
and I have heard the rattling, gasping breathing of a dying person,
as he or she tries to stave off death for just another breath.

And I have seen death in the church.
Death is faded Sunday School books lying about a room that hasn’t been used for Christian Education in years.
It is dark hallways where children once scurried to their Sund
ay School classes, now empty and vacant.
Its empty pews staring back at the pulpit,
and a building in need of repair.
It is the frantic search for money for a church more preoccupied with keeping a roof over its head than it is with proclaiming the gospel.
It is people not concerned about their spiritual well-being,
not interested in growing in their faith,
satisfied to put their time in on a Sunday morning,
and not have to think about their faith again for a week,
a month or more.
That, my friends, is death.

I have heard other pastors ask the question God posed to Ezekiel,
"Can these bones live?"
And I must admit that I too have asked that question at different times and places in my life.
It is a question I ask today, on this day of Pentecost.
Can these bones live?

You see, although it rarely celebrated as such,
today is one of the highest days of the church year.
It is after all the church’s birthday.
Pentecost should have as much joy as Christmas,
and as much pageantry as Easter.
People should turn out in droves today.
There should be multitudes here,
singing God’s praises,
lifting up their prayers,
and turning to God’s word for guidance and direction.
All of Christendom should be celebrating the birth of the church and the wonderful gift of the Holy Spirit.

Today is meant to be a day of hope, of happiness, even of ecstasy.
But the truth is that many of us here were not any more thrilled about coming to church today than we are any other Sunday.
And the truth is that some Sundays finds our level of excitement barely enough to keep a pilot light burning,
let alone inspiring the tongues of flame we read about in Acts 2.

Let’s face it.
We bear a more striking resemblance to the dry bones in Ezekiel than we do to those disciples who are gathered together praying, rejoicing, and celebrating.
Our churches are rarely like the Upper Room.
Instead, they evidence the dry and parched conditions of the desert.

Now before you think that I am being too harsh and critical,
let me say that I am indeed being harsh and critical.
I am critical of the church,
and I am critical of my own Christian Walk.
I know all too well that all too often I am of not much more than a pile of dried up bones.
I know that there are times when I let my spiritual life decline to the point where there is hardly a heartbeat left.
My prayer life fades,
my devotional reading ceases,
and my activities in the church become ritualized,
and at these times I’m merely going through the motions of being a Christian.
This is another picture of death for me.

And so there are times when I look at myself,
as well as at the church,
and ask, Can these bones live?
And if they can live again,
what will that life look like?

My friends, the valley of dry bones,
what the psalmist called the valley of the shadow of death,
can be a frightening, lonely place.
It can be soul-crushing.
But the miracle is that we don’t have to stay there.

Ezekiel’s vision tells of a wind,
a holy, mysterious, life-giving wind,
that blew through the valley,
remembering and caressing each of those old detached dried up bones,
and in the end giving these bones their muscles,
their flesh and blood, and their life.

This wind was nothing other than the breath of God,
the Spirit of God,
the same Spirit that hovered over the dark waters of creation,
bringing forth life from the chaos.
This wind was the same breath of God that breathed into the first man and woman in the garden,
creating humankind from the dust of the earth,
whispering life into being.
It is the same wind that filled the room where the followers of Jesus had gathered.
And it is the same wind that gave those 120 people new life, new hope,
and a new strength to carry out their mission as Christ’s disciples.

And you have seen this same wind, this same Spirit, in your life.
I am sure many of you have experienced times like the ones I described experiencing.
Times when you have been in some dark valley of death,
seemingly cut off, severed from life,
your existence little more than a "valley of dry bones."
But then, as if out of nowhere,
a holy wind has come upon you,
refreshed you, and brought you back to life.
That life-giving wind was not "out of nowhere."
That wind was the Holy Spirit.

If First UMC is to live,
if we are to survive as God’s people here in Pottstown, PA,
it will be as a gift,
as a result of God’s gracious Spirit blowing through here,
giving us that which we can not have on our own.
Dried out bones do not take on flesh and life through the exercise of their own free will.
Just ask Ezekiel.
It is only through the life-giving presence of God’s Spirit that the bones come together, take on form and flesh, and live again.

(Pointing to the church) Can these bones live?
(Pointing to myself) Can these bones live?
(Pointing to the people) Can these bones live?
These are life and death questions,
and the answer depends upon what we are willing to do.
What are we willing to do to experience new life for ourselves?
What are we willing to do to bring new life to our church?
And are we willing to be open to the moving of the Holy Spirit in our lives and in our church?   

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Why Celebrate Pentecost?

The following sermon is based upon the following scriptures:

Genesis 11:1-9
Psalm 104:24-34, 35b
Romans 8:14-17
Acts 2:1-21
John 14:8-17, 25-27

These can all be read by clicking here.

———-

Out of all the reasons I can come up with as to why we celebrate Pentecost,
I want to deal with two this morning:
The first has to do with pride and prejudice,
and the second is all about power.

Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austin, is considered by many to be one of the great English novels.
Set in the early 1800s,
this satire of courtship and marriage in English society,
tells the story of Elizabeth Bennett,
one of five daughters of a country gentleman and his matchmaking wife.
Elizabeth meets Mr. Darcy at a dance.
And at first glance, he appears prideful, rude and arrogant.
Naturally, he and Elizabeth are immediately at odds,
and as they continue to be thrown together in social situations,
they continue to spar.
Darcy, however, begins to fall in love with Elizabeth,
and this is despite the fact that he considers her well below his social station and has even advised one his friends not to marry one of Elizabeth’s sisters.

Eventually he proposes to her,
but listen to his proposal:
Mr. Darcy:  Miss Elizabeth. I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past months have been a torment. I came to Rosings with the single object of seeing you… I had to see you. I have fought against my better judgment, my family’s expectations, the inferiority of your birth by rank and circumstance. All these things I am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony.
Elizabeth Bennett: I don’t understand.
Mr. Darcy: I love you.
Only then does he ask for Elizabeth’s hand in marriage.
Can you imagine a marriage proposal from a man who has called you inferior, and who has said seeing you was against his better judgement?
Mr. Darcy is just filled with all kinds of pride and prejudice.

Of course, the same could be said of Elizabeth,
she has her own pride and prejudices,
especially against those in the upper class of society
And it is not until the very end of the novel that we find her willing and able to admit as much.

Pride and prejudice -
they have been with human kind from the beginning and stay with even now.
You may know that one of my favorite Mac Davis songs,
in fact the only one I know,
has to do with pride:

        I used to have a girlfriend
        But I guess she couldn’t compete
        Because of these love-starred women
        Who are clamoring at my feet
        Well, I probably could find me another
        But I guess they’re all in awe of me
        Who cares, I never get lonesome
        ’cause I treasure my own company

        O Lord, it’s hard to be humble
        When you’re perfect in every way
        I can’t wait to look in the mirror
        ’cause I get better looking each day
        To know me is to love
        I must be one heck of a man
        O Lord, it’s hard to be humble
        but I’m doing the best that I can.

He says he sings about humility,
but we all know it’s really about pride.
Of course pride has it’s dangers.
A young woman named Mary asked for an appointment with her pastor to talk with him about a sin that concerned and worried her.
When she saw him, she said,
“Pastor, I have become aware of a sin in my life which I cannot control.
Every time I am at church I begin to look around at the other women,
and I realize that I am the prettiest one in the whole congregation.
None of the others can compare with my beauty.
What can I do about this sin?”
The pastor’s reply:  “Mary, that’s not a sin, why that’s just a mistake!”

We are a prideful people.
We always have been.
A quick look at Genesis 3 shows us that pride was at the root of the very first sin.
You remember what I’m talking about.
God has given Adam and Eve all that they could ever want,
with just one small caveat:
Don’t eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil,
for on the day you eat it, you will surely die.
And what happens?
The serpent tells them that they won’t die if that taste the forbidden fruit,
no, he says, for as soon as you eat of the tree,
you shall be like God,
knowing the difference between Good and Evil.
To be like God,
to overstep our bounds,
it’s nothing more than pride.

Just ask the builders of that tower in Babel.
“Come,” they said,
“ let us build ourselves a city, and a tower with its top in the heavens,
and let us make a name for ourselves.”
Let us make a name for ourselves.
Pride.

We think we can do it all.
We think we’re the best,
number one.
I remember a football team that had not won a single game all year once beating a ranked team on TV,
and though they had 10 losses to only one win,
you know the chant that soon came from the students lips:
“We’re number one.”

And hand in hand with pride comes prejudice.
After all, we can’t be number one without someone else being second or third or last.
And if we are the chosen people,
then that means somebody else didn’t get chosen.
Somebody else, everybody else, is less important, less loved, and less valuable than we are.
How else do you explain the human tragedy of slavery?
One can only enslave another person,
if one believes that that person is less of a human being than he or she is.
Enslaved people are really subhuman to their captors,
they’re not really people, after all,
they’re not like you and me.
They don’t have the same rights or privileges as we do.
In fact, when you get right down to it human history is filled with examples of how pride and prejudice have poisoned human hearts and minds.
This is true of Protestants and Catholics in Northern Ireland,
Muslims and Jews in the Middle East,
Nazis in Germany against the Jewish, Gypsy and homosexual populations of the Third Reich,
Turks against the Armenians in Turkey,
and I could go on and on.
But I think you get the idea.

And the story of Babel was just one of the stories that was told to explain why people are divided and scattered and pit themselves against one another.
But if Babel shows how we are divided,
then Pentecost shows us the way back to unity.
One of the first things we notice about Pentecost is that it reverses the curse of the Tower of Babel,
where human pride led to division and prejudice and eventually all kinds of human evil.
Pentecost unites and empowers us as Christ’s church to overcome our differences and to learn that real power comes not from placing ourselves ahead or over others,
but by being open to God’s Spirit,
and trusting that the Spirit of God can do some amazing things through us.

For instance, at Pentecost we see that from its very beginning the church was open to all kinds of people.
There were people there from every nation, Luke tells us.
Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia,
Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia,
Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors
from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs
People representing every tongue and tribe.
The fractured, divided, alienated people of the world,
broken into so many different languages and cultures after Babel,
were offered healing when the Spirit descended at Pentecost.
And you know what,
we are told that by the end of the day,
over 3000 people said yes to the healing,
yes to the power of the Holy Spirit.

And it is the power of the Holy Spirit then and now which empowers the church and each of us.
But this kind of power is exactly the opposite of the power we humans exercise in our pride and prejudice.
The power of the Holy Spirit is not about subjugating others,
it’s not about putting myself over and above another.
Rather, it is all about placing myself, in love and in service to others.
And I think this is what Jesus is talking about when he says in John,
and I quote, “Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these.”

Did you hear that?  Let me say it again:
“Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these.”

You see, as Tony Campolo has said,
Jesus broke into history not to demonstrate his power.
He came to express his love.
This is what the gospel’s about.
It’s about love.
And of course, we can’t duplicate the power of Jesus.
We can’t walk on water.
I don’t have the ability to raise up people from the dead, neither do you.
But this we do have, the opportunity to express the love of Jesus.
and when it comes to the bottom line,
Jesus was more committed to expressing love than showing off his power.
And through the Holy Spirit’s power we can express his love as well.

Campolo tells a story about his being in Haiti.
He was there to check on some missionary work.
One of his organizations runs 75 small schools back in the hills of Haiti,
and after visiting them,
Campolo returned to a little Holiday Inn where he always stayed to shower and clean up before boarding the plane to go home.
He had left the taxi and was walking to the entrance of the Holiday Inn when he was intercepted by three girls –
the oldest could not have been more than 15.
The one in the middle said, “Mister, for $10 I’ll do anything you want me to do. I’ll do it all night long. Do you know what I mean?”

Campolo did know what she meant.
He turned to the next girl and said,
“What about you, could I have you for $10?”
She said yes.
He asked the same of the third girl.
She tried to mask her contempt for him with a smile but it’s hard to look sexy when your 15 and hungry.
Campolo said, “I’m in room 210, you be up there in just 10 minutes.
I have $30 and I’m going to pay for all 3 of you to be with me all night long.”

Well, he rushed up to the room, called down to the concierge desk and asked for every Walt Disney video they had in stock.
He then called down to the restaurant and asked if they still made banana splits in this town,
because, he said, if you do I want banana splits with extra ice cream, extra everything.
I want them delicious, I want them huge, and I want four of them!

The little girls came and the ice cream came and the videos came and we sat at the edge of the bed and we watched the videos and laughed until about one in the morning.
That’s when the last of them fell asleep across the bed.
And as he saw those little girls stretched out asleep on the bed,
Campolo thought to himself, nothing’s changed, nothing’s changed. Tomorrow they will be back on the streets selling their little bodies to dirty, filthy johns because there will always be dirty, filthy johns who for a few dollars will destroy little girls.
Nothing’s changed.
He didn’t know enough Creole to tell them about the salvation story,
but the word of the spirit said this to him:
but for one night, for one night you let them be little girls again.

After telling this story Campolo anticipates our objections.
I know what you’re going to say:
“You’re not going to compare that with Jesus walking on water.”
No, I’m not, for very obvious reasons.
If Jesus was to make a decision which is the greater work,
walking on water or giving one night of childhood back to 3 little girls who had it robbed from them —
giving one night of joy to 3 little girls that armies had marched over —
which do you think Jesus would consider the greater work,
walking on water or ministering to those 3 little girls.

And Jesus said, ““Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these.”
We can’t duplicate the power acts of God in Jesus Christ,
but every time we perform an act of love in his name,
We are imitating Jesus and fulfilling his promise through the power of Holy Spirit.
He has called us to be instruments of his love to people who need to experience love.
And when we do those things, these acts of love are greater than the work that he did when he walked on water.

But there’s even a deeper meaning to that verse than that.
And here it is: When Jesus was here in the flesh he was only able to look into the eyes of one person at a time;
only able to express love personally to one person at a time.
But he has ascended to be with the Father and has come back as a spirit,
the Holy Spirit that comes into our lives and fills us and drives us to love. Now if thousands and thousands of people go out tomorrow morning and each of them performs one act of love in his name,
then it can be said — you can hear Jesus uttering these words —
“Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these.”
because, you see, thousands are greater than one.
I could only love one person face to face at the time.
But there are thousands,
even millions of you now and each of you at any given moment can love someone intimately and powerfully in my name.”

And we can do this my friends,
we can reach out to anybody and everybody with love,
because we have been given the gift of God’s own Spirit in our lives.

The Great Omission

A sermon based on Acts 1:1-11, which can be read here.

So here they were at the end of it all.
Today marks the last day when Jesus would be among them in human form.
Never again will the disciples see Jesus “in person.”
Never again will they “hear his voice” teaching them,
challenging them,
calling them to change.
And never again will they be able to literally reach out and touch Jesus.
Today was a day of change, great change for the disciples,
Nothing would ever be the same again.

In fact, nothing had been the same since those few days before Jesus arrest and crucifixion.
Jesus had walked with them for three years,
teaching them what the kingdom of God was all about in their lives. They had seen him work miracle after miracle,
they had tried to take his words to heart,
and over the past few weeks,
they had been through both a most terrible and wonderful experience with him,
what with the ever darkening shadow of the cross looming over them as they got closer and closer to Jerusalem,
until at last the soldiers came for him, and they ran,
and he was crucified, and they despaired;
and then, wonder of wonders,
he was alive and in their presence once again.

And he taught them again,
in the Upper Room, along the Road to Emmaus,
at the Sea of Galilee where they shared a meal of bread and fish.
But now all this was about to end.
Jesus had been hinting that he would be leaving them soon,
and I think they sensed his coming departure as they walked him up Mount Olivet.

And sensing that they would not be with him again in this world in this way,
they had to ask him the question that was burning in their minds.
And though perhaps just one person gave voice to the question,
I can just see them all straining, waiting for Jesus’ answer:
“Lord,” they asked, “is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?”
This was the burning question -
the question that laid deep in each disciple’s heart.
Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?”

Now there are a number of observations we can make about this question and Jesus’ reply to it.
The first observation is that it is crystal clear that the disciples still had a lot to learn.
After more than three years of hearing Jesus teach and preach,
they still don’t understand that the Kingdom of God is not some political or worldly power.
After three years of words and a cross to the contrary,
they still expect that Jesus will set up some sort of earthly kingdom.

And if the disciples still had a lot to learn after three years of teaching by and fellowship with Jesus,
then it is likely that we too have a lot to learn.
And what we need to learn is probably along the same lines as what they needed to learn.
What do I mean by this?
Well let’s look in more detail at the question and Jesus’ reply.

What the disciples are basically asking is this:
Lord, are you going to do now what we have been waiting for you to do all along?
Will you finally make thing the way they were for us in our glory days under King David?
Will you make it all right for us again?
make us a strong nation once more?
and make your people, your chosen people, into the powerful and privileged people that chosen people should be?
Yes, we know about those dark days of your death,
and we have heard your teaching about suffering and cross-bearing,
but enough is enough, already.
It’s time to get to the bottom line.
So Jesus, what are your plans? What are you going to do now?

Notice what is being asked.
Lord, will you take action? Will you do this now?
Will you make things like they used to be?
When we were in charge, when we had the power and glory

And though at first glance it may not appear to be so,
this question the disciples ask sounds a great deal like some of the prayers we pray to God -
when we ask God to do something for us,
to take action on our behalf,
to give us the power and glory, and to give it all to us now.

And of course, beneath this prayer often lies the idea of returning to the past,
of going back to the way things used to be,
back in the good old days.

Some of you are no doubt old enough to remember the Lone Ranger programs on TV.
Those of you who remember these may also remember that each episode opened with the Lone Ranger riding his horse Silver to the top of a hill,
where Silver would rear up on its hind legs and then both rider and horse gallop away to the sound of the William Tell Overture.
Meanwhile the narrator introduced the Lone Ranger as a champion of truth and fairness and invited the listeners to “return to those thrilling days of yesteryear.”

While returning to the past might make for good television,
it does not make vital and alive disciples,
nor does it make faithful and thriving churches.
And yet, how often is the past looked upon as being the direction into which we should head?

And further, we expect that Jesus, that God, will be the one that brings about the changes necessary for us to return to our glory days of yore.
Lead on, O King Eternal, we cry.
Take us back to what we once were.
Make us once again into the church of our fathers and mothers,
when the pews were filled,
when the choir loft was packed,
when the Sunday School overflowed,
and on and on and on.

And so we pray,
Lord, isn’t it about time you did something about our sorry condition and return us to the way we were?
Or in the words of the disciples,
“Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?”

But notice, if you will, Jesus answer.
In reply Jesus says rather cryptically,
“It is not for you to know the times or the periods that the Father has set by his own authority.”
By this he means:
No, this is not the time for any such thing.
I am not about to do what you ask,
and furthermore it is none of your business to know if and when God will take action in the future.
Keep your nose out of God’s business, and look after your own.
And then Jesus adds,
For you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you.”

Did you hear that?
The disciples ask Jesus to do something for them,
and he turns right around and says to them,
“You shall receive power.”
God’s not going to come down and make everything alright for us,
God’s not going to return us to the graveyard of the past,
no matter how attractive such a resting place might appear.
Instead God gives us the power to make a difference.

We often have a hard time understanding this,
for we sometimes see religion and faith as a means to get God to do what we want.
We want to reach up and turn on some cosmic switch and God will do what it is we desire.
But to this kind of thinking Jesus says,
“You shall receive power – It’s in your hands, now.

One of England’s great leaders during the nineteenth century was William Gladstone,
who had a favorite illustration about prayer.
It seems that his neighbor’s little girl, Julia, was upset because her brother had made a trap to catch sparrows.
This bothered her so much,
that she told her mother she was going to pray real hard that the trap would fail to catch any birds.
And so Julia prayed every night and worried through the days.
One night, however, her mother noticed that Julia seemed especially confidant that God would answer her prayers.
This went on for three days,
after which her mother asked her,
“Julia why are you so sure your prayer will be answered?”
Julia smiled and said,
“I know my prayer will be answered because three days ago I went out there and kicked the trap to pieces.”

We may pray, “Lord, will you . . .”
But Jesus says, “You will receive power . . .”
You will receive power, and please note,
the power you receive will not take you back to some nostalgic, yellow-paged past found only in your memories,
the power you will receive will lead you into a new future.

And perhaps this isn’t so bad,
and maybe we could get used to this idea
as long as God will give us the power to make things the way we want them to be.
Maybe it won’t be so bad if God will give us the power to “restore the kingdom” to our kind of people.

But this too needs to be questioned.
It is always a disturbing thing to me to note how so many who use the name and the symbols of Christ do so with the purpose of elevating themselves and their kind of people to places of power and privilege.
How can it be that the cross,
the symbol of our Lord’s death – his death for all people -
How can it be that this cross, lit up by flames,
can be used by the Ku Klux Klan as a means to instill fear in people who are different only because of the color of their skin?

A minister friend of mine once told a story of his being stationed in Georgia as a young soldier before the Korean war.
There he heard a preacher recount of how the Ku Klux Klan in that area was able to get churches to support their cause.
He said they would walk down the church aisle during the opening hymn dressed in their hoods,
and as the hymn ended they would deposit a large check in the offering plate.
My friend stated that if this happened to him in a church he served he would stop the service and immediately throw the rascals out.
But the other preacher said he would take a different tact.
He would wait until the group had been seated,
then he would walk up to the altar and take out the check and mark it be sent to the NAACP,
and then he would step into the pulpit,
and by the power of God,
he would preach the best sermon he could on the love of God in Christ for all people,
and what that means for race relations.

Jesus says, “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you and you will be my witnesses”
My witnesses!
This power God gives us is not for our own purposes,
it is not given so that one people can lord it over another -
it is for divine purposes.
You will be my witnesses – witnesses who will testify to what God has done and is doing in Jesus Christ,
to make the world not the way they want it,
but the way God wants it to be.

And what are God’s intentions?
What does God want?
Listen further to what Jesus has to say;
“You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”
Now the early disciples would have had some problems with that.

In Jerusalem? Why of course…that’s home territory,
that’s where our people live,
and that is where we expect to be witnesses for the Lord.

In all of Judea? Well, okay, as long as we don’t have to travel too far into the boondocks.
After all, Judea is still our country and our people.
In Samaria…now wait a minute.
Here you’ve gone too far.
The Samaritans are heretics, they are guilty of intermarriage with non-Jews.
They are despised by everyone as we associate with.

And as far as “To the end of the earth” goes,
well here you can’t be serious.
That means we should go to the gentiles -
why they are just pagans, they are unclean, heathen and outcasts.
Further, it means to go to the Romans,
and those people are our enemies.

The disciples who had a hard time just walking through Samaria with Jesus would have certainly had a hard time with these words,
but Christ says to them,
“You shall be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria and to the end of the earth.”

So What does God want?
God wants us to show his love in Christ to the entire human family. God wants us to be servants to every human being,
for to God every human soul is so precious that Christ died for it.

One writer has put it well. He states,
No individual created in God’s image and for whom Christ died can be for me an enemy,
unless I am more devoted to something else -
a political theory, a nation, the defense of certain privileges,
or my own personal welfare -
than I am to God’s cause and God’s loving invasion of this world through the prophets, Jesus Christ and the church.

In John Drinkwater’s play, Abraham Lincoln, there is a conversation between Lincoln and a well-known woman,
who was also an anti-Southern activist.
When Lincoln tells this activist the news of a victory in which the South lost 2700 men and the Union lost 800,
she is ecstatic,
“How splendid,” she cries.
Lincoln is stunned,
“There were 3500 lives lost . . .,” he says
But she cuts him off,
“Oh, you must not talk like that, Mr. President.
There were only 800 that mattered.”
Lincoln’s shoulders droop,
and his tear-filled eyes flash as he speaks slowly for emphasis,
“Madam, the world is larger than your heart.”

And this is is what Jesus is saying to all of his disciples,
then and now, with these words just before his ascension.
The world is as large as the heart of God who made it and all those who dwell within it.
And we have been called, you and I, to be Christ’s witnesses on his mission of binding the human family together as one people sharing the love of their God.
Witnesses to the whole world,
witnesses to every person,
regardless of who they are and what they have done.

This great commission of Jesus is not easy work.
In fact fact, it can be extremely difficult.

It is indeed much easier to say to Jesus,
“Why don’t you take care of things for us?”
It is easier to say,
“You are my savior and Lord, you do it,”
than it is to do something about the injustice, the hunger, the suffering and the pain that surrounds us.

It is much easier to sit back and look with fondness and a growing nostalgia for the good old days of yore,
it is easier to rest upon our laurels,
than it is to get busy doing the work of God’s kingdom by proclaiming the good news to people around us today.

And it is certainly easier to keep our love and ministry inwardly focused so that only those who are a part of us,
or who are like us,
are ministered to.

In many ways the great commission that is found in Matthew 28 in one form and in Acts 1 in another,
has become the great omission in today’s churches.

Today’s churches are do well nurturing their members,
some even do well with outreach to the world around them through missions, social concerns, etc…
But many, if not most, churches have forgotten the great commission given to them by Christ,
the commission to witness, to share the good news with others. Witnessing is the life-blood of the church.

It is not enough to acknowledge that Jesus is the Christ.
It is not enough for us to claim God’s grace and mercy and love for ourselves and not share with others.
It is not enough for us to expect that God will take care of things for us,
that our church can be a beacon and light to the people without our ever lifting a finger to keep the fire burning.
It is not enough for us to “let go, and let God.”

Our highest calling, our great commission,
is to reach out beyond ourselves,
beyond the confines of our church,
and to witness to God’s love through Jesus Christ.
This is our reason for being,
and if this is not being done in our church,
then we simply have no reason to continue.
What will it take for us to understand this,
and for us to come to grips with this reality?

After two thousand years do we still have a lot to learn about what it means to be disciples of Christ?
It would be a shame, it would be a crime,
for us to claim to be Christ’s d

isciples,
and for us to act as though we were the church,
without our ever engaging in our primary task and main calling.

You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you,
and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.

 

You Can’t Just Sit Around – A Sermon for Ascension Day

I begin today with two stories about Ascension:

Story One:

Larry Walters was a truck driver, but his lifelong dream was to fly.
When he graduated from high school,
Larry joined the Air Force hoping to become a pilot,
but his poor eyesight disqualified him.
So when he finally left the service,
Larry had to satisfy himself with watching others fly the fighter jets that crisscrossed the skies over his backyard.
But even so,
as he sat there in his lawn chair,
Larry still dreamed about the magic of flying.

Then one day, a brilliant idea dawned on him.
Larry went down to the local Army-Navy surplus store and bought forty-five weather balloons, and several tanks of helium.
Back in his yard, Larry used straps to attach the balloons to his lawn chair.
He anchored the chair to the bumper of his jeep,
and inflated the balloons with helium.
Then he packed a few sandwiches and drinks, and a loaded BB gun,
figuring he could pop a few balloons when it was time to return to earth.
His preparations complete,
Larry sat in his chair and cut the anchoring cord.
His plan was to lazily float into the sky, and eventually back to earth.
But things didn’t quite work out that way.

When Larry cut the cord, he didn’t float lazily up;
he shot up as if fired from a cannon!
And he didn’t stop at just a couple of hundred feet either.
No, Larry climbed and climbed until he finally leveled off at eleven thousand feet! At that height, he could hardly risk deflating any of the balloons,
lest he unbalance the load and really experience flying.
So he stayed up there, sailing around for fourteen hours,
totally at a loss about how to get down.

Eventually, Larry drifted into the approach corridor for Los Angeles International Airport.
A Pan Am pilot radioed the tower about passing a guy in a lawn chair at eleven thousand feet, with a gun in his lap,
Now that would have been a conversation I would have given anything to have heard!
As dusk fell, Larry began drifting out to sea.
At that point, the Navy dispatched a helicopter to rescue him,
but the rescue team had a hard time getting to him because the wind from their copter blades kept pushing his home-made contraption farther and farther away. Eventually, they were able to hover above him and drop a rescue line,
with which they gradually hauled him back to safety.

As soon as Larry got his feet on the ground, he was arrested.
But as he was led away in handcuffs, a television reporter called out,
“Sir, why’d you do it?”
Larry stopped, eyed the man, then replied nonchalantly,
“A man can’t just sit around!”

Larry Waters, it would seem, could give mainline churches a lesson or two in getting off their collective rear ends and doing something about fulfilling their primary task as Jesus outlines it in today’s readings from the gospel and Acts.
But before I go into this too much,
let us review story two from Acts .

This story is several hundred years older than the story of Larry Waters.
In it, Luke mentions that a group of disciples had gathered together with their teacher who had died on a cross,
but who was now mysteriously with them as a risen presence.
Recall the passage that was read just a few minutes ago,
and how Luke describes what happens.

So when they had come together, the disciples asked Jesus,
“Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?”
He replied, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority.
But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria,
and to the ends of the earth.”
When Jesus had said this, as they were watching,
he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.
While he was going and they were gazing up toward heaven,
suddenly two men in white robes stood by them.
They said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven?
This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven,
will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”

Now there are a number of observations we can make about this story,
one of which is that even after more than three years of hearing Jesus teach and preach,
the disciples still don’t get it.
They are still expecting Jesus to do all the work,
and in this case that means setting up an earthly kingdom with him as emperor and them as his princes.

Lord, are you going to do now what we have been waiting for you to do all along?
Will you finally make things the way they were for us in our glory days under King David?
Will you make it all right for us again?
make us a strong nation once more?
and make your people,
your chosen people,
into the powerful and privileged people that chosen people should be?

Yes, we know about those dark days of your death,
and we have heard your teaching about suffering and cross-bearing,
but enough is enough, already.
It’s time to get down to the bottom line.
So Jesus, what are your plans?
What are you going to do now?

And in reply Jesus simply tells them that he is leaving,
and that now they have work to do.
In Luke’s gospel Jesus puts it this way:
You are witnesses of these things,
and in Acts he adds:
you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria,
and to the ends of the earth.”

But even though Jesus is quite clear about the disciples’ new job description,
when he leaves,
they just stand there, gawking up into the heavens.
They don’t even think about moving until two angels tell them to get going.
If it hadn’t been for that, they might still be there today.

And that brings me back to the present time and today’s church.
Most mainline churches are struggling to stay open,
let alone thrive and grow.
Oh, they may claim to want growth,
but the fact is that they really do very little to make it happen.
And it’s not that they aren’t busy,’
but they are busy doing all the wrong things.
When it comes to being witnesses of Jesus and his life and love,
they become strangely immobile.
They may say all the right things,
but they do little or nothing to fulfill their primary calling and purpose.

They remind of one of the characters in a favorite show of mine from years ago,
the Andy Griffith Show.
In one episode Andy and Barney are sitting on the front porch swing.
It is a quiet night,
but a little hot and so after a few minutes of silence,
an eternity in TV time,
Barney slowly says,
“Well, you know what I’m gonna do Andy?”
No, what’s that, Barn?
Well, I think I’m going to get up,
walk down to the drugstore,
and get me a sodapop.
Yep. That’s just what I think I’m gonna do.

You know what happens?
Nothing. Barney never does get off that swing.
He just sits there,
much like so many churches today.
And the sad thing is this:
when the church doesn’t do it’s job,
it is not the only one that suffers.

There is a legend that tells of Jesus and a conversation he had with the angel Gabriel following Jesus’ resurrection and ascension.
Gabriel approached Jesus and said, “
Master, you must have suffered terribly down on earth.”
Jesus replied that he had indeed suffered a great deal.
Gabriel then asked,
“And, do all the people know and appreciate how you loved them and what you did for them?”
And Jesus answered,
“Not yet. Right now only a handful of people in Palestine know.”

Gabriel was perplexed. He asked,
“Then what have you done to let everyone know about your love for them?”
Jesus replied, “I’ve asked Peter, Jame

s, John, and a few other friends to tell other people about me.
Those people will spread the word, too.
Then, ultimately, all people will have heard about my life and what I have done.”

Now, Gabriel frowned and looked rather skeptical,
for he knew the stuff of which people were made.
He said, “Yes, but what if Peter and James and John grow weary?
What if people who come after them forget?
What if people in centuries to come don’t tell others about you?
What will you do then?”

And Jesus answered,
“I haven’t made any other plans.
I’m counting on them” (“Parables”, Jan 1984).

When Jesus ascended into heaven to be with his Father,
he left the church with us.
We are His body.
There is no alternate plan.
And as a part of Christ’s church,
we at FUMC either share the good news of the Risen Lord, the Ascended Christ,
with those around us,
or we fail in our primary calling to be his witnesses in the world.
And though we can sit around or stand around as though we don’t have a call to fulfill,
the price we will pay is continued decline and increasing irrelevancy.
Others will heed the call to be Jesus’ witnesses,
and we will simply die.
It need not be like this, of course,
for as Jesus said, and I repeat once more:
But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you;
and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

Writer and preacher Barbara Brown Taylor has imagined those apostles standing on the Mount of Olives looking up into heaven. She writes:

No one standing around watching them that day could have guessed what an astounding thing happened when they all stopped looking into the sky and looked at each other instead.
On the surface, it was not a great moment:
11 abandoned disciples with nothing to show for all their following.
But in the days and years to come it would become very apparent what had happened to them.
With nothing but a promise and a prayer,
those 11 people consented to become the church,
and once they did that,
surprising things began to happen.

They began to say things that sounded like him,
and they began to do things they had never seen anyone but him do before.
They became brave and capable and wise.
Followers became leaders,
listeners became preachers,
converts became missionaries,
the healed became healers,
and disciples became apostles,
witnesses of the risen Lord by the power of the Holy Spirit.

That probably was not the way they would have planned it.
If they had had their way,
they would probably have tied Jesus up so that he could not have gotten away from them,
so that they would have known where to find him and rely on him forever.
Only that is not how it happened.
He went away – he was taken away –
and they stood looking up toward heaven.

Then, they stopped looking up toward heaven,
looked at each other instead,
and got on with their commission of being Christ’s witnesses,
Christ’s body on earth.
To this day, too many Christians still stand staring up in heaven,
or worse yet, sit around doing little themselves,
waiting for something to happen,
waiting for Jesus to do something about the church, the world, our own lives,
when we ought to be getting on with the commission we have clearly been given, of being Christ’s witnesses,
of being Christ’s body, his hands and his feet, on earth.
We must finish the work Jesus began.

Some of you have probably heard of Giacomo Puccini,
an Italian composer who gave the world some beautiful music.
But in 1922, only 64 at the time, he was diagnosed with cancer.
Though very ill, he continued to work on the opera Turandot,
which many people consider to be his best.
Some tried to convince him not to waste his limited energy on a piece he could not
possibly finish but he pressed on.
When he death was near, he said to his students:
“If I do not finish Turandot, I want you to finish it for me.”

Puccini did not finish the opera,
and after his death his students gathered together all of the scores and his notes, studied them with great care,
and then finished the opera.

The opening performance took place in 1926 and was conducted by one of Puccini’s students.
When he reached the place where the his teacher had stopped composing the conductor put down his baton,
turned to the audience and said to them,
“Thus far, the master wrote, and then he died.”
No one moved and no one made a sound for several minutes.
Then the conductor picked up his baton again and said,
“But his disciples have finished his work.”

On the day of his ascension,
Jesus disappeared in a cloud before the eyes of the disciples and is finally hidden from their sight.
The disciples just stood there looking intently into the sky and they hear voices from two men dressed in white saying,
“why do you stand here looking up into the sky?”
Now though we may laugh at Larry Walters because he did such a drastic thing without thinking it through,
it is the same message that came to the disciples,
“A person, even a church, can’t just sit there” or even “stand around” as the case may be.

Let us pray:

Risen, ascended Lord, how you trust us.
You have handed over your ministry into our hands,
and we are often so feeble, frail, and sinful.
Yet, you trust us to continue it.
Forgive us when we have failed you,
when we have not followed through with the mission you began.
Help us to so know your mind and spirit, O Christ,
that we can continue your work in the world around us today.
In his own name we pray.

 

The Problems and Promise of Healing

Well, it ain’t much really, but here is my meditation on healing for today.  Hopefully my words will be buttressed by the liturgy of healing that will follow my message, and which is the heart of the worship service for today anyway.

The texts for the sermon can be found in this post.

Today I want to focus upon healing.
Now I know the idea of healing gives many people reason to pause,
and it’s easy to understand why.
You only have to turn on your TV or radio to find any number of preachers who claim to have the gift of healing.
Some of them may even ask you to touch the TV or radio as they pray and to expect a miracle.
Just believe, they say, and you will be healed.
Others might ask you to send for a special prayer cloth guaranteed to bring healing for whatever ails you.
I once heard one radio preacher ask his listeners to send for their very own special anointing oil key chain,
filled to the brim with olive oil straight from the Holy Land.
To be honest, there are way too many hucksters out there,
trying to make a buck and a name for themselves,
while taking advantage of people too gullible for their own good.

And because of the nature of healing,
this is easy for some people to pull off.
After all, look at story of Paul and Barnabas we read in Acts.
Here two legitimate disciples and healers are considered gods by the good people of Lystra,
who would have offered sacrifices to them if Paul and Barnabas hadn’t stopped them from doing so.

robertsonsatanPeople with less ethical standards can and do take advantage of those who sincerely desire healing in their lives or in the lives of those they love.
My list of these modern day hucksters would include Pat Robertson,
who loves to tell his TV viewers that there is someone out there in TV land with this or that specific illness or problem,’
and that even as he squints his eyes in prayer,
God is in the process of healing them.
And then there’s Benny Hinn.
As you can see from the photos,
if there is anyone out there with a worse haircut than mine,
that person would be Benny Hinn.
Hinn, BennyHinn has a penchant for waving his hands over people or swiping his coat in front of a crowd,
and lo and behold, they are slain in the Spirit and supposedly healed of their diseases all in one fell swoop, so to speak.
Of course, an HBO documentary on Hinn a few years ago,
was unable to verify even one of the Benny’s many “healings,”
but that has not stopped him from becoming one of the wealthiest ministers in the world, with his own private jet, several multi-million dollar homes,
and a yacht, if I am not mistaken.

kenneth-hagin-srAnd then there’s Kenneth Hagin, who died in 2003.
Hagin was an influential American Pentecostal preacher,
and he is often referred to as the “father” of the “Word of Faith” movement,
which basically teaches that if Christians have enough faith,
they can be healed of any disease.
In my research on faith healing this week I found the following on a website.
In response to some who had written him, saying things like,
“Brother Hagin, when you laid hands on me, I felt the power go through me just like electricity. It went all over me. For days I was perfectly all right, but now every symptom has come back on me, and I’m worse than I ever was. Can you help me?”

“Thank God, I can. Thank God, I can,” Hagin tells them. “You see, you were healed on somebody else’s faith, or by a manifestation of the Spirit of God. You didn’t have any foundation of the Word of God in you to help you keep your healing.”

Hagin goes on to say,
The minute the first symptoms show up, [these people] say, “I thought the Lord healed me. I guess He didn’t.” And when they say that, they open the door to the devil. Instead of rising up and meeting the devils with the Word of God and commanding his power to be broken, they yield. Why? Because they have no foundation of God’s Word in their lives. They are depending on other to carry them on their prayers and faith.”
“That might work temporarily, but a permanent healing will be based on their own faith. No one can maintain a healing which has come as a result of another’s faith.”

So in other words, if your healing at the hands of Brother Hagin didn’t take,
it’s all your fault for not believing hard enough.
You just didn’t have enough faith.

I wish he had been there to tell my Aunt Marie something like that when my Uncle Walter was dying of cancer.
Aunt Marie was and is a woman of deep faith and conviction,
and though she prayed for Walter’s healing constantly for months,
he was never cured of his disease and he died a slow and painful death.
If Brother Hagin had said that all she or Walter needed for him to be healed was more faith,
I believe that Aunt Marie would’ve have been tempted to smite that man up side his head with her big, heavy, leather bound King James Version Bible.
Then Hagin would have been the one in need of healing instead of Walter.

So Why bother?
Why not just forget about healing.
Why not leave it alone and say that it was just something that happened in Bible times, but that it doesn’t have anything to do with our lives or world today?
Well, we don’t do this because the ministry of healing was an essential part of Jesus’ ministry, life and teaching,
and further, he gave that same ministry to his disciples.

For instance, if you spend just a few moments reading your Bible,
you’ll be overwhelmed by the amount of healing that takes place within it.
Almost one quarter of the gospels are devoted to stories about healing.
And it’s not just Jesus either.
When Jesus sends the 12 disciples out to do ministry in Matthew 10
he says to them:
Go and proclaim, “The kingdom of heaven is at hand.’
Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, cast out demons.”
And later in Luke, when the 70 are sent out,
Jesus tells them,
“ Heal the sick in it and say to them,
‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’”
Further, on three separate occasions in his letter to the church at Corinth,
Paul lists healing as one of the gifts of Holy Spirit to Christians.

And there is no reason for us to believe that this biblical emphasis on healing no longer applies to Jesus’ disciples today,
We too, need to be concerned about healing.
And while this doesn’t mean we have to imitate those on the TV or radio,
it does mean that we need to open ourselves up to the possibilities of healing and of being healed.

Part of our problem is that we don’t understand what healing is really about.
We tend to see it as a nothing more than “cure” for some disease or illness,
when in fact the word used for healing by Jesus and throughout the New Testament means so much more.
For instance, in our gospel lesson today Jesus doesn’t ask the man if he wants to be healed.
Instead he uses the word hugies (hoog-ee-ac

e) which literally means whole.
For Jesus then, healing has much more to do with wholeness of one’s body, mind, and soul than it does with curing sickness.
And we should understand healing in the same way.

One preacher has said,
When I think about it,
I’ve known people who were deeply healed even when they were very sick. There was a man who taught me how to pray while he was dying of AIDS; his devotion to God was so deep and powerful that it changed my life.
There was a friend of mine battling brain tumors for 30 years who spread the joyful power of the gospel every day of her life.
[And then] there is Archbishop Desmond Tutu,
battling prostate cancer as we speak,
who nonetheless still manages to climb a pulpit on Sunday mornings and proclaim a gospel that will rattle your bones.

On the other hand, a person can be cured of a disease and still not be healed, not be whole.
We see this in today’s gospel.
The man at the pool of Bethsaida was cured of his disease,
but he wasn’t made whole.
In fact, he refused Jesus offer of wholeness.
You remember what happened.
When he is found carrying his mat,
the man is interrogated by the religious leaders,
who want to know who it was that healed him.
A little later on when he runs into Jesus,
these are the words that Jesus says to him,
“See, you have been made well!
[But] do not sin any more, so that nothing worse happens to you.”

But what does the man do?
He promptly turns around and rats Jesus out to the authorities,
which in turn leads to the religious leaders’ intensified persecution of Jesus.
The man in John 5 was cured of his disease,
but he not made whole in the biblical sense at all.
Getting over the flu or being cured of some disease might make us feel better,
but these cures won’t necessarily make us better people;
in fact they might free us to become even bigger pains in the rear end of others than we were when we were sick.
For you see, healing is first and foremost about wholeness,
physical and spiritual wholeness.

And when we understand healing in this way,
we come to understand every person here,
indeed, everyone we know,
is in need of some healing,
There is not one person who is completely whole.
Everyone we know needs to feel the true healing touch of Jesus in his or her life.
Of course, the lie we often tell ourselves is that everyone is well and whole except for us, but in reality we are all dis-eased,
whether physically or spiritually.
And if this is true,
the question for today is simply this:
Is there healing here for us?

Now there are things I don’t know, things I cannot know.
Like why are some cured while others are not.
But there are a couple of things that I can say with confidence.
First, I know that God’s desire for us is for wholeness, not brokenness.
In fact, the Bible tells us that this is God’s desire for all of creation –
That’s part of what John sees in his vision in Revelation:
As John says:
Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city.
On either side of the river is the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month;
and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.
Nothing accursed will be found there any more.
But the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it,
and his servants will worship him;
they will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads.
And there will be no more night;
they need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light,
and they will reign forever and ever.

Second, I believe that we, as the church, can be an instrument of God’s healing power to bring about wholeness.
We can be a tool in the hands of the Great Physician –
not by selling cures or claiming to be mysterious faith healers.
But by creating a church that offers hope and belonging,
by being a people of prayer,
a haven that helps connect people to the God of love.
This church can be a place where we are strengthened in our relationship to God, where we are restored in our connection to our neighbor,
and where we are renewed in community.
We can be the waters of God’s love into which those in need of healing can immerse themselves;
we can offer the touch that brings hope and healing to broken lives.
Is there healing here for us?
Yes, yes, there is.
And so I invite you this morning to consider whether there is some area of your life or another’s life that is in need of healing.
Perhaps there is anger that has damaged your spirit,
maybe a sense of guilt and a need for forgiveness;
perhaps you are struggling with a physical health issue,
or maybe you are feeling isolated, separated from any sense of community.
Some of you may have broken relationships or feel overwhelmed by stress.
But whatever is that is keeping you from being whole,
I want you to bring it to God this morning.
I cannot promise you a cure,
but I do believe that God will offer you healing and wholeness.

My friends, that is the gospel for us this morning.
That in Christ we can find forgiveness for our sins,
life for a death-filled world,
and healing and wholeness for ourselves and others.
It is our mission and our ministry to share this good news to all we meet,
even to ourselves -
to our own hearts and minds.

 

A Foretaste of What Love Can and Will Do

This is my sermon for tomorrow – Thanks to everyone I stole from. I think I have given everyone credit for what I have taken. I’ve been waiting for a sermon in which I could use the Fred Craddock story about soup for some time, and this sermon feels about right for it. Special thanks to Tim Zingale and Charles Johnson. I also plan to use Bass Mitchell’s wonderful invitation to communion as a bridge from the word to table.

By the way, members of First United Methodist Church are forbidden from reading this until after tomorrow’s services. Yes, that means you, Jim Pennock : )

For all you others out there, any comments or corrections or suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

———-

Scriptures:

Acts 11:1-18
Revelation 21:1-6
John 13:31-35

All of which can be read here.

John, a disciple of Jesus, is in exile,
imprisoned on the island of Patmos.
He is an old man and no doubt is already looking forward to the life
that will come when he finally casts off his mortal body for one that
is immortal.
It is while here, on Patmos, at the end of his life,
that John has a vision, which we have come to call the book of Revelation.
Now while most of this book is filled with symbolism and can be
incredibly difficult to interpret and understand,
chapter 21 is almost crystal clear in giving us a picture of what God
has in store for his children.
For here John is given a vision of the new heaven, the new earth, and
a new Jerusalem,
and all these things are vastly different from the heaven, earth and
Jerusalem we have now.

Listen to his words:
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth;
for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away,
and the sea was no more.
And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem,
coming down out of heaven from God,
prepared as a bride adorned for her husband;
and I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,
“Behold, the dwelling of God is with mortals.
He will dwell with them, and they shall be his people,
and God himself will be with them;
And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes,
and death shall be no more,
neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain any more,
for the former things have passed away.”

Now I don’t know about you,
but I can all but feel the joy and comfort that these verses exude.
I can almost picture the brilliance and glory of this scene,
and I find myself wanting, more than anything,
a world without death and sorrow and pain,
a world where these “former things” have passed away.

And I’ll bet that many of you feel the same way.
I am sure that John did.
One small phrase gives a clue to John’s feelings as he lives in
isolation upon that island.
Notice that he says “for the sea was no more!’
Robert Borgwardt, in the Augsburg Epistles series, writes:
John is saying something very significant in those few words.
He is speaking about separation,
he is speaking about the sea separating him from his friends, his
books, Christian fellowship, separation from the land where Jesus
walked and lived,
separation from all that made life bearable for John.
So John says very clearly that heaven will be a place where there will
be no more separation. There will be completeness, a togetherness, a
union of all things.

All of us live now with a bit or a lot of separation in our lives.
We can be separated from God through our sin,
separated from ourselves through the brokenness of this world.
We can be separated from each other through our unwillingness to love
others as we love ourselves.

As another (Tim Zingale) has stated:
John found in his vision a promise from God that through the power of
the resurrection,
through the grace of Jesus Christ,
each person will experience a sense of closure, or completeness in life.
Unity will be restored,
people will be fully reconciled,
A trusting faith in Christ will be brought to its completion.
Healing will take place in all the broken areas ‘of life,
and perfect love will allow everyone to be a brother and sister to
each person and a perfect child to God, all this will happen in
heaven, in the new dwelling place.

But we don’t necessarily have to wait for the new heaven and new earth to appear for us to get a foretaste of what they will be like.
Jesus tells us in our lesson from John that one way we can begin to
experience the new heaven and new earth now, is to love one another.
He says: “A new commandment I give to you:
Love one another.
Just as I have loved you,
so you should also love one another.
By this all will know that you are my disciples,
if you have love toward one another.”

John saw in his vision of the new heaven and the new earth of
completeness of love. And Jesus tells us in the gospel lesson that
loving one another is the most complete way to live.
Of course, this isn’t easy.
If anyone ever tells you that love is easy,
they are lying and the truth isn’t in them.
And though loving may become easier over time,
as we draw closer to Christ and his life,
it is never easy.
It is, however, essential for us as followers of Jesus.
Love is the only way to live completely in Christ.
But love can hurt you, you might say.
And I agree,
Love is one of the only emotions that can make you both miserable and
elated at the same time.
And though it does have, at times, some powerfully negative consequences,
we can say the same thing about not loving.

C. S. Lewis says this about love:
To love at all is to be vulnerable.
Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken.
If you want to make sure of keeping it intact,
you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal.
Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries;
avoid all entanglements;
lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness.
But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change.
It will not be broken;
it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, and irredeemable….
The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all
the dangers of love … is Hell.

So okay, you say, all we need to do is love.
That’s simple enough.
But once we start to ponder the consequences of love,
all kinds of things start running through our minds:
Questions, doubts, wonderment, values, ideas, relationships, all come
into play.
Yes, this four letter word seems simple enough,
but in reality, it is the most, difficult thing,
the most difficult concept we can encounter.

Charles Johnson, a colleague of mine on the Preaching the Revised
Common Lectionary discussion group, put it this way:

“Listen up, now,” said Jesus, “I have a new commandment for you.”

“A new commandment!? All right!
This is what we’ve been waiting for!
The ultimate revelation from God, the secret to life, the key to everything!
The new word that will fulfill and place in proper perspective
everything we’ve ever been taught! The word that will make
everything clear that has been fuzzy!
The word that will drop the scales from our eyes and open up the
pathway to God’s future,
to the Kingdom of God.
This is what we’ve been waiting for!
Hit us with it, Jesus!”

“OK — here it is: love one another.”

“What?”

“Love one another.”

“No, no, we meant, what is the new commandment, the secret to life,
the key to everything?”

“That’s it: Love one another.”
“That’s it?
What kind of secret is that?
We’ve been following you for three years, and our people have been
laboring and suffering for hundreds of years, and this is the payoff:
“Love One Another”?!”
That’s all there is to it?

“That’s it.
That is the ultimate revelation from God.”

The disciples were a little crestfallen.

“No offense, Jesus.
It just seems a little …. anti-climactic, after all the hype and everything.
We expected a new commandment that was, well,
a little NEWER, if you know what we mean.
This ‘new commandment’ one has been around for awhile.
And it’s not particularly original.
I mean, aren’t there even non-Judeo-Christian types who have said
something along this line?”

“Well, you’d expect the Key to Everything to be universally true,
wouldn’t you?
Besides, although the commandment may not exactly be totally new in
every respect,
it is new as a foundational command.
As the measure of every other concrete commandment — and thought and
action — it is new. Respect one another,
love one another,
care for one another,
always have one another’s best interests at heart –
not the way that people usually love either other,
but the way I have loved you.

“But it seems almost too … simple.”

“Too simple to be worthy of you?
Let me assure you that the principle is indeed simple and clear –
too simple and clear to sit well with many people who have made an
Olympic sport out of looking for loopholes.
But believe, me, applying it to all kinds of real-life situations
involving real and complex human beings will tax all the brain cells
you have.
And actually doing it will take all the faith and hope in the world –
and all the love.
Try to do it — try to forgive one of your enemies, for instance –
and you will soon find that you cannot –
unless you have totally surrendered yourself to God.
And that you can’t totally surrender yourself to God unless you
totally trust God.
And that you can’t totally trust God unless you love God with your
whole being.
To love one another will take everything you’ve got and everything you are.
Believe me, this is not a kind of ‘Lite Commandment for Busy
Post-Modern People’ with a penchant for fuzzy sentimental
spirituality.
And now, as I’ve said, I’m off to … well, to where you can’t follow now.”

“Why can’t I follow you now?” Peter asked.
“I’m not afraid. I love you totally. I will even lay down my life for you.”

“Oh, really?
Don’t have any doubt about that, do you?
Well, Peter, you are about to get a crash course in this matter of loving.
In time, you will indeed follow me and lay down your life for me.
But not now — you’re not ready yet.
Truly I tell you, within the next 24 hours, you will discover how
simple loving seems –
and how difficult it is to actually do, especially when crunch-time comes.”

Did you know that Jesus gave only two commandments in the New Testament?
One about loving God and the other this one about loving each other.
The commandments are written in different versions in different places
in the New Testament, but essentially, they are alike.
He commands us to love.
But why, and why at that particular moment in time,
just hours before he will be betrayed?

And to that I say, “good question.”
Earlier this week I wrote on my blog that context, if not everything,
is extremely important.
Take this command to love in John’s gospel,
Much of its power comes from its context.
For one, it is part of Jesus’ last discourses with his disciples
before his betrayal, arrest, and crucifixion.
And as such, these words have much in common with the words that a
dying person might speak to their loved ones who have gathered at the
deathbed, hoping to receive some final words of instruction or wisdom.

We also need to bear in mind the events that have transpired just
before Jesus gives his new commandment.
Two things stand out.
One, Jesus has just humbled himself to wash the disciples’ feet.
When he finished this task, over the initial rejection of Peter,
Jesus says, “You call me Teacher and Lord, and you are right, for so I am.
If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet,
you also ought to wash one another’s feet.
For I have given you an example,
that you also should do just as I have done to you.
Truly, truly, I say to you, a servant is not greater than his master,
nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him.
If you know these things, blessed are you if you do them.
(John 13:13-17 ESV)”

The other important event that immediately precedes Jesus’ giving of a
new commandment is Judas leaving the fellowship of the disciples in
order to betray Jesus.
It is Judas’ leaving that prompts the gospel writer to say, “And it was night.”
And John isn’t just saying that the sun has gone down either.
This is as dark as it gets in the gospel.
This is the time when, in fact, darkness rules.
And so it is after Jesus has given an concrete example of servant
ministry and after Judas has left to carry out his evil work that
Jesus gives his disciples a new mandate:
to love one another as he has loved them.
Of course, in a few hours he will once again demonstrate his love for them.
When he is arrested in chapter 18,
Jesus will offer to peacefully go with those who arrest him in
exchange for them letting his disciples go free.
This is in addition, of course, to his subsequent sacrificial death for all.
“When I am lifted up, I will draw all people to myself.”

Unlike many teachers and leaders in the history of humanity,
Jesus teaches and leads by example.
He never asks his followers to do anything that he himself would not
and does not do.
And that’s why he gives this new commandment when he does.
So that when he tells us to love each other as he has loved us,
we know exactly what such love entails.

And if that doesn’t make us feel just a tad uncomfortable,
then we still haven’t really wrapped our heads around what Jesus has
just asked us to do.
Because, you see, love will push us far outside any boundaries that we
set up for ourselves.
Love will go far beyond our comfort zones.
Love, true love, will shake us to our very core.
Just ask Peter.

In Acts 11 Peter tells us of a vision of his.
A vision that, on the one hand, seems to be all about what foods a
good Jew or Christian can or cannot eat,
but which, on the other hand,
tells us what kind of people we are called to love and share the gospel with.
Peter wasn’t at all comfortable even thinking about eating non-kosher food,
but the idea of visiting with and welcoming non-kosher people to
Christ’s table was even more repugnant.
So it took not one, or two, but three visions for Peter to get the message.
God had to do everything but hit Peter up side the head with a 2 by 4
board of love to get him to see things the way that God sees them.
To get him to see people the way that God sees them -
that everyone, regardless of who they are, where they are, what they are,
are worthy of God’s love and therefore worthy of our love.
And when we, like Peter, begin to see this and live out this truth in our lives,
then we will begin to have just a little foretaste of what John is
talking about in Revelation 21.
A world where death itself dies,
a world where there is no sorrow or pain,
a world where love has finally overcome hate.
That world will come one day in its fullness,
but may we begin to create such a world, as best we can, now.
Teilhard de Chardin, the great philosopher, once said,
“The day will come when, after harnessing the winds, the tides and gravitation,
we shall harness for God the energies of Love.
And on that day, for the second time in the history of the world,
man will have discovered fire.”

I don’t know about you,
but in this world and time we live in,
I’d be happy with a few sparks here or there.
Like the sparks Fred Craddock recalls in a story he tells of being in
Winnipeg late one fall when a terrible snowstorm caused the
cancellation of a lecture he was to give on Saturday morning.
He was totally unprepared for the snow.
In Tennessee where he grew up and in Atlanta where he lived,
it just didn’t snow like this in the fall.
Well, his host could not even get out to pick him up for breakfast,
but thank goodness,
there was a bus depot just a block or so from where Fred was staying,
and he walked in the deep snow to find a cup of coffee and maybe some pancakes.
When he entered the café in the bus station,
he said it looked like every stranded traveler in Canada was there.
He found a place to sit and asked for a menu.

“What do you want a menu for?” the waiter asked.
“All we have is soup.”
“What kinds of soup?” Fred asked.
“Soup,” came the answer.
“You want some soup?”

“That’s just what I was going to order,” Fred said.
It was a gray-looking, watery bowl of soup.
Tasted pretty bad, too.
Too bad for Fred to be able to eat it.
But he wrapped his hands around the warm bowl,
“bemoaning and beweeping,” he says “my outcast state.”

Just then the door opened, and a woman came in, clutching her coat.
She found a place to sit.
The waiter came up.
“What do you want?”
“Glass of water,” she said.
He brought it.

“Now what’ll you have?”
“Just the water,” she said.
“You have to order, lady.
I have customers that pay-What do you think this is, a church or something?
If you’re not going to order, you’ve got to leave!”

So she got up to leave.
But almost as if rehearsed,
everybody in that little café stood up and started toward the door.
And the man in the greasy apron said
“All right, all right, all right, she can stay.”
Everybody sat down,
and he brought her a bowl of soup.

Fred recounts what happened next.
“The place grew quiet, but I heard the sipping of the awful soup.
I said `I’m going to try that again.’
I put my spoon to the soup-
you know, it was not bad soup.
Everybody was eating this soup.
I stated eating the soup,
and it was pretty good soup.
I have no idea what kind of soup it was.
I don’t know what was in it,
but I do recall it had a familiar taste.
Because when I was eating it,
it tasted a little bit like bread and wine.
Just a little like bread and wine.”

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