Expecting

It's the second week of Advent, and we have moved from hope to preparation. Getting ready for the Messiah is a little bit like expecting a baby, as this sermon suggests. If you have children, think about your experience of preparation. Did I hit the nail on the head?

“Have you heard? Elizabeth is expecting!
Yes, Elizabeth! Old Zechariah’s wife! I understand that she got pregnant right after he saw that vision in the Temple.
Oh, I’m sure that you heard about it. Everybody heard about it. He saw an angel while he was burning incense, and he was struck dumb! And right after that… Well, you know!
Yes, I know… nobody’s seen her. She won’t let anybody see her. But she sends Zechariah to the store with lists of things to buy. Oh, she wants their usual groceries – milk and bread and peanut butter – but she wants other things, too… things like pickles and ice cream. Pickles and ice cream! Of course, she’s pregnant.
Well, you don’t have to believe me if you don’t want to. I guess I can’t blame you for that. As old as she is, that baby is something of a miracle. But I saw the delivery truck from the furniture store at their house just last week. They carried in a crib. A crib! Do you think that she’s going to plant flowers in that crib? No, I don’t think so, either.
Old Elizabeth is expecting. Will wonders never cease?!”
(You can read Elizabeth's story in Luke 1:24-25, 57-66.)

“Expecting.” That word is full of possibility! “Expecting” moves us beyond anticipation to preparation. After all, when we hope, we’re not really certain of anything. When we hope, we trust that it something will happen someday; but the details aren’t clear. When will it happen? Where? How? Hope looks forward into the future; but its vision is cloudy.

But expectation – that’s a different kettle of fish! Expectation has a face, a name, sometimes even a timetable! We can actually do some things when we are expecting something. We hope for snow and dream about walking through a winter wonderland; but when we expect snow, we get out the snow shovel.

When parents are expecting a baby, like Elizabeth and Zechariah were, they know what kinds of preparations need to be made. They need to provide a crib for the new baby so that he can sleep safely, clothing to keep him warm, and opportunities for play so that he can grow and learn and mature. The nine months pass quickly with all the preparation that accompanies expecting a child. But new parents also need to prepare to be flexible. They need to prepare for the unexpected. After all, each baby is different. Some are quiet, and some are… not so quiet. Some babies are shy, while others are outgoing. Some babies are easy to care for; while others will push every limit that you try to set for them. Any new parents who believe that they are absolutely ready for that new baby are kidding themselves!

Our preparation for the birth of the Messiah is not really all that different. We know that he’s coming. The sanctuary is decorated; the candles are in the windows; many of us are reading Advent devotionals. But exactly what will happen when he gets here… We don’t know that just yet. Just like new parents, we only know what’s going to happen in very general terms. We know that the Messiah is coming to save us; to bring us good news of God’s love; and to offer us peace beyond our wildest expectations. The prophets told us all those things long ago. But God not only fulfills the old; God surprises us with the new. We can never predict exactly what God will do!

The name of Elizabeth’s new baby is a clue to that. The relatives were going to name him after his father Zechariah. Zechariah was a good family name. It would remind the baby of his father, and maybe his father before him, and maybe even his father before him. The name “Zechariah” was a link to the past. But Zechariah wouldn’t let them do it. “His name is not Zechariah,” the old priest insisted, “His name is John.”

John. That’s a new name, a name suitable for the baby who would prepare the people for a new age… a name for the baby who would proclaim the Kingdom of God in a new way… a name for the baby who would make the way ready for a Messiah who came to conquer not by making war, but by dying on a cross.

As we expect the birth of the Christ child again this year, maybe we should add something to our preparations. There’s nothing wrong with our traditional preparations. Advent would be incomplete without greenery, wreaths, trees, and candles. But maybe we should get ready for something else, something brand new that will change our lives. Maybe we should get ready to be surprised by the newborn Messiah. Maybe we should prepare not only to be comforted, but to be challenged. Maybe we should get ready not only to receive God’s love, but to show it to others. Maybe we should get ready not only to talk about the peace that Jesus offers us as citizens of the Kingdom of God, but to live it.

“Have you heard? We’re expecting – expecting, just like Elizabeth! Oh, I know that it’s unbelievable; but it’s true! We’re expecting – all of us! Will wonders never cease?!”

From the Secret Place of God

This sermon was for the first Sunday of Advent, the Sunday that we traditionally consider how we are called to wait for things to happen in God's time. While I touch on that in this sermon, my goal is to consider how the story of the Messiah begins very small, like many things that begin small but grow to enormous proportions. Have you experienced that in your life?

Everything big begins as something very small. The giant sequoia, for example, a redwood tree that can grow to a towering height, begins life as a seed no larger than a single flake of oatmeal. The story of the Messiah’s birth is something like that. It begins in secret, announced to one man in a private room; but it grows until even the farthest reaches of the world know the story. The story begins in the Jerusalem Temple, a place both expected and surprising. We might expect the story to begin there because the Temple was considered to be the very dwelling of God as he lived among his people. But it doesn’t begin like we think it would. It doesn’t begin as an announcement to a great crowd of worshippers; it begins as a whispered word to an old priest as he goes about his duties. (Luke 1:5-23) That priest’s name was Zechariah; and he had been waiting for God’s Messiah his entire life.

Actually, all his fellow Israelites had been waiting for the Messiah to appear – and they had been waiting for a very long time. After they were conquered by Babylon, the nation of Israel lost its independence. They lost their king, too. In fact, the descendents of King David didn’t even have a throne to sit on, because Israel was always ruled by another country: first Babylon, then Persia, Greece, and finally Rome. Way back when Israel was first conquered by Babylon, the prophet Isaiah started talking about a Messiah, a new king who would be anointed by God. This Messiah wouldn’t just be a king, though; he would be a King! He would not only rule over God’s people; he would restore them, as well. The trouble was, Isaiah had lived over 400 years before Zechariah’s time; and the Messiah hadn’t so much as poked his nose around a corner. Oh, there were plenty of folks who claimed to be the Messiah; but they never turned out to be the real thing. And so, all Israel waited… and waited… and waited. You know what happens when we have to wait for something for a very long time. We give up hope that what we’re waiting for will ever appear at all. And that’s exactly what happened. To many people, the Messiah had become a lovely dream, but not someone who would ever really appear in the flesh.

And so, on that fateful day, Zechariah the priest went to the Temple to fulfill his priestly duties. It just happened to be his turn to burn the incense. A priest offered incense to God daily in the inner court of the Temple, in a room that was called “the Holy Place.” It was right next door to the Holy of Holies, where God himself lived. Only priests were permitted in the Holy Place. Zechariah had burned incense there hundreds of times before, and nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened. But on this day, as Zechariah was sprinkling incense into the fire, he looked up; and there was an angel, standing next to the altar. An angel! And that angel had a message for Zechariah. His wife Elizabeth, who had been barren all her life, was going to become pregnant and have a son – a son who would prepare the way for the Messiah. Oh, the angel didn’t say that in so many words. He described the child as having “the spirit and power of Elijah.” But in Jewish tradition, Elijah had to come back and prepare the way before the Messiah would appear. And that’s just what the angel said would happen. Zechariah’s child was going to prepare the people for God’s arrival. It was all too much for the old man. He was as stunned as if the angel had hit him over the head with a skillet. His barren wife was going to bear a son… and the boy would be the new Elijah? How could that possibly be? Zechariah, not thinking too clearly, blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. “Oh, come on now! I’m old and so is my wife. There’s no way she could have a child!” He just couldn’t believe that what the angel’s announcement would really come true.

When we hear good news, we frequently don’t believe it, either. We’re just like Zechariah. We’ve lived with bad news for so long that good news seems like so much wishful thinking. If the phone rings one day and it’s a long-lost relative who wants to meet for lunch, what’s the first thing we think? We usually mutter to ourselves, “I wonder what he wants.” We probably wouldn’t rejoice in the possibility that he might want to restore the broken relationship. We’re too cynical to have that kind of hope. We’ve seen too much, and been around the block once too often. But hope is what God is all about; and God sent that angel to Zechariah to offer him the kind of hope that we can’t get on our own.

But Zechariah’s response didn’t sit too well with the angel – who, by the way turned out to be none other than Gabriel, God’s right-hand messenger. “Fine,” said Gabriel, “you don’t believe me? I brought you wonderful news. If you don’t believe it, then you’re not going to get the chance to tell everyone about it!” And in less time than it takes to tell the story, Zechariah was struck as silent as a stone. Gabriel’s secret would remain a secret for nine more months, until Zechariah’s child was born – the child who would grow up to be John the Baptist.

It’s appropriate, if you think about it. The greatest secret of all time was revealed to an old man in a private room in the Temple. How like God to begin the story in one room with one man. It’s just like the story that began with the one man Abraham, or the story that began with the one man Noah, or the story that began with the one man Adam. God always starts small, just like that giant redwood that begins life as a tiny seed. Most of us don’t take little things too seriously, though. If we are presented with a big plan, complete with goals, budget, and implementation timeline, we say, “Wow! That sounds really good!” But if we hear about something small, just the first glimmerings of an idea, we tend to frown and mutter, “Yeah, good luck with that. It’ll never work.” In the end, though, that big plan usually falls over under its own weight. But the things that begin small… they might just flourish and bear fruit. Remember that Jesus compared the Kingdom of God not to a federal budget proposal, but to a mustard seed.

As we begin this year’s Advent journey towards Bethlehem, it’s worth remembering that the story of the Messiah in our own lives begins small, as well. We don’t meet Jesus with the fanfare of a parade and a brass band. We first meet him in the secret places of our own heart. And when we do, it’s a very small thing. Sometimes we don’t even realize that we’ve met Jesus at all – not until long afterwards. But if we receive him and allow him to take root in our heart, his influence grows and grows and grows until it reaches into every nook and cranny of our life. It grows until it’s as big and sturdy and sheltering as a giant redwood tree!

Do we believe that this Christmas, the Messiah will be born again in each one of us? Are we really expecting him to appear? Or are we more like Zechariah? Do we believe that this Christmas will be just like all the others – glittery, commercial, and just a product of Madison Avenue? Well, I can’t answer that question for you. But I can suggest that as you journey through Advent this year, you open your eyes and stay alert. Who knows? When you least expect it, you might encounter an angel who has very good news to announce to you!

The Ultimate Foundation

This is the last sermon in a series that explored basic Christian practices such as prayer, Bible study, and gratitude. In it, I claim that worship is the foundation of all the other practices. See if you agree with me.

Today is the last Sunday in the Christian year. Next Sunday, Advent will begin; and we will once again wait for a Messiah who will deliver us from bondage. But this morning, the church calendar still says that it’s New Year’s Eve. And on New Year’s Eve, we look ahead in anticipation of what will happen in the New Year. Each year on December 31, when we celebrate our secular New Year, we wonder what will happen in the future. But on the last Sunday in the Christian year, we know what will happen. As Christians, we believe that one day, Jesus will come again, and God’s kingdom will arrive in fullness bringing peace, love, and healing to all. We may not agree on how that will happen; and we certainly don’t agree on when that will happen; but we all do agree that it will happen someday, and on that day, the world as we know it will be transformed.

This morning also brings us to the end of our journey through foundational Christian practices. We began our travels with prayer, moved through Bible study, and continued with simplicity, community, generosity, and gratitude. That brings us today to the practice of worship. In a way, we’ve saved the best for last; because all the other practices that we’ve considered are based on worship. It’s the foundation on which we base all our Christian behavior.

So maybe we should consider briefly what worship is – and what it isn’t. Most people think that gathering in church, singing hymns, listening to a sermon, and joining in prayer guarantees worship. But that’s not the case. What makes all these actions “worship” is the attitude that is underneath them. Worship, very simply, is the act of acknowledging where our ultimate loyalty lies. Singing and praying and preaching are only worship if, as we do these things, we are acknowledging that Jesus Christ is our ultimate authority. Otherwise, all our pious actions are just so much show.

It isn’t an understatement to say that the entire Bible deals with worship in one way or another. Noah worshipped God when he followed God’s instructions and built an ark. Moses worshipped God when he went to Pharaoh and told him, “Let my people go.” King David worshipped when he moved the Ark of the Covenant into Jerusalem; and King Solomon worshipped when he built the Temple. The prophets told the people over and over again that true worship was showing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with God. Jesus showed his followers what worship looked like through his life of acceptance and compassion.

And in this morning’s scripture reading, we actually get a glimpse of worship in heaven. First, we get up close and personal with the throne of God himself. Then, we see twenty-four elders surrounding God’s throne. They might represent the twelve tribes of Israel and the twelve apostles. They wear golden crowns, and are robed in white. Next, we see four fantastic flying creatures, covered with eyes, who praise God day and night. Finally, we witness the very heart of worship, as the elders fall on their faces before God, offer God their crowns, and give God glory, honor, and praise.

It seems like an odd way to worship, doesn’t it? We have never once fallen flat on our faces in this sanctuary. We haven’t even tossed a golden crown or two toward the altar. But an ancient congregation would have recognized this scene as the very essence of worship. The King was crowned as the ultimate authority; and he was also worshipped as God’s earthly representative. When people approached the King, they would have fallen flat on their faces in front of him. That acknowledged both the authority of the King and the loyalty of his subjects. Although we think of it as a political statement – something like bowing to the Queen of England – in those days, it was a religious act, as well. And so, when the white-robed elders laid their crowns before God’s throne, it was a profound statement. By giving up their crowns, they were giving up any authority that they themselves had, and accepting God’s authority in all areas of their lives. And that is the foundation of real worship!

On this day when we anticipate Jesus Christ’s eternal reign, it’s worth asking ourselves whether we really do worship him in the way that he should be worshipped. Do we really accept the authority of Jesus Christ in all areas of our lives? Oh, I know that we would never cheat on our income taxes; we don’t covet our neighbor’s wife (at least, not very often); and I’ve never yet dug up a body in our recreation park that one of you murdered and is trying to get rid of. But those things are easy. Don’t murder…don’t steal… don’t covet. Sure, we can do all that. But what about some of the other things that Jesus told us. How about the commandment to love your enemy? Hmmmm…. That one gets ignored a lot when it’s inconvenient. One of my friends has a bumper sticker on her car that says, “When Jesus says ‘Love your enemy,’ I think he means ‘Don’t kill them.’” In a world in which violence is so acceptable, whose side are we on? You see, if Jesus is really going to reign forever – and we claim that he is – and if we truly want to worship him – and we say that we do – then we have to give him authority over all of our lives. After all, in the Kingdom of God, there is no room for violence, or hate, or selfishness.

So, maybe you’re thinking right now, “Well, I might as well go home! If I have to give Jesus Christ authority over every part of my life, I’m never going to be able to worship as I should.” But you’d be wrong. Worship is an amazing thing. The more we worship, the better at it we become. That’s why I say that worship is the foundation of every other Christian practice. The more we worship, the more we want to encounter God; and that leads to more prayer. The more we worship, the more we want to understand what God is saying to us in scripture; and that leads to reading the Bible more frequently. The more we worship, the more we want to please God in every way; and that leads to greater gratitude and generosity. The ancient church got it right when they proclaimed, “Lex orandi, lex credendi.” That’s a Latin phrase that means, in essence, “What we proclaim is what we believe.” We don’t decide to believe and then worship; we worship, and that worship forms both our beliefs and our actions.

So on this New Year’s Eve of the church year, I invite you to look ahead to the time when all creation will be remade in the image of Jesus Christ. The book of Revelation describes the fullness of God’s kingdom in chapter 21: “I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. ² I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. ³ And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Now the dwelling of God is with people, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ⁴ 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.’” That’s what will happen when Jesus Christ rules completely! Shouldn’t we worship him completely, too?

A Spirit of Gratitude

Why have we come so far from the original intent of Thanksgiving? It has changed from being "a day to be thankful" to merely "the day before Black Friday." Is it possible that we have forgotten how to be grateful? If you choose to read this sermon, it may provide some food for thought to go with your turkey on Thanksgiving Day.

This coming Thursday is Thanksgiving. It’s the one day out of the entire year dedicated to giving thanks for all the blessings that we enjoy. We can trace the holiday all the way back to the 1620s when the Pilgrims first landed in Massachusetts. George Washington proclaimed the first national day of thanksgiving in 1789; and it became a national holiday in 1863, by proclamation of Abraham Lincoln. The original thanksgiving celebrations were religious celebrations. Oh, the Pilgrims may have feasted with their Native American friends in gratitude for a bountiful harvest; but all that feasting occurred after they gathered to worship in services that probably lasted for several hours. George Washington certainly saw it as a religious day. He called on his countrymen to acknowledge “with grateful hearts the many… favors of Almighty God.” But these days, Thanksgiving isn’t very religious at all. Most people don’t spend the day sitting in a church pew; they’re in a recliner watching TV. Many do say grace before they stuff themselves with turkey, candied sweet potatoes, and pumpkin pie; but the closest that other folks get to giving thanks is exclaiming, “Thank God my football team won!” What happened? When did we stop giving thanks for what we have and start taking it all for granted? How did we get so far away from the original intent of this holiday?

Maybe this morning’s story from the gospel of Luke (17:11-19) can shed some light on the problem. It’s one of the few stories in the gospels that deals with gratitude – and the lack of it. It’s a very short story. Jesus encounters 10 lepers, men whose illness is so feared that they have been expelled from society. They live alone, or with other lepers. They aren’t even permitted to approach Jesus, but must stand far away from him and shout, “Jesus, master, have pity on us.” Of course, Jesus does have pity on them. “Go show yourselves to the priests,” he says. That’s what people did if they were healed of leprosy – they would go to the priest to prove that their leprosy was gone. Only then could they go back to their home and family. The men follow Jesus’ instructions; and as they go on their way, they are healed! Their bleeding sores, their crusty scabs, their white, dying skin – all of it disappeared, and their flesh became clean and fresh and healthy. But only one came back to say “thank you” to Jesus. Only one – and he was a Samaritan. None of the nine Jews who were healed came back. They didn’t even give him a thumbs-up and holler, “Way to go, Jesus! You da man!” No, all Jesus saw of them were their backs disappearing from view as they hurried off.

It’s not what we expect, is it? The Samaritan – the one who shouldn’t have anything to do with a Jewish Messiah – he’s the only one who showed any gratitude! I’ve often wondered why that was the case. Is it possible that those nine Jews felt that they were entitled to be healed? After all, they were expecting a Messiah who would solve all the problems that any Jew ever had. That’s what they had been taught from their childhood – that when the Messiah came, he would fix everything that was wrong. The Samaritan had been taught something, too. He had been taught that no Jew cared anything about a Samaritan. He hadn’t grown up waiting for a Messiah to swoop down and make everything better. Far from it! When a Samaritan encountered a Jew, he wasn’t helped; he was usually spit upon! That Samaritan didn’t feel entitled to anything, especially from a Jewish Messiah.

If those nine Jews felt entitled to be healed, then it makes perfect sense that they didn’t come back to say “thank you.” After all, we don’t show gratitude for what we’re entitled to have, do we? We say, “Thank you” to the server at Tim Horton’s when she hands us coffee and a donut at the drive-through window because we’re polite; but if we don’t get that breakfast, we’ll probably go into the store and raise a fuss about it. After all, we’ve paid for that coffee, and we’re entitled to it. But people today seem to feel entitled to lots of things that they aren’t really entitled to at all. People get angry when traffic on I-75 is heavy, because they think they’re entitled to drive all the way to work without any problems. They complain when prices go up, because they think that they’re entitled to low prices on everything from tee shirts to canned corn. And they certainly feel entitled to buy anything that they want on Black Friday! What else can explain fist fights at Wal-Mart over the last Tickle Me Elmo doll? We feel entitled; and people who feel entitled don’t say “thank you.” Instead, they say, “You only bought a 15 pound turkey? There won’t be enough leftovers for sandwiches!”

Gratitude is as scarce as turkey’s teeth these days. But gratitude is one of the foundations of our Christian life. If we lose the capacity to feel gratitude, we lose the engine that drives our generosity! It’s no accident that here at Nashville UCC, we receive a collection for the FISH food pantry on the Sunday before Thanksgiving. Because we are thankful for what we have, we want to share with others who don’t have as much as we do. We want to show our gratitude through our actions.

I saw a short video recently that made me realize vividly the power of gratitude. The video begins with a view of a man sitting on a blanket on the sidewalk in front of a public building, perhaps a courthouse. His clothing is clean but threadbare. His eyes aren’t focusing on anything. In front of him sits an empty coffee can. People walk by him. Some are alone; while others are in groups, chatting together happily. A few slow down to drop a coin or two in his coffee can. Now we can see that there is a hand-written sign sitting next to him. It says, “I’m blind. Please help.” An attractive woman in black pumps walks by, then stops and returns to him. She gives him nothing, and she says nothing. Instead, she picks up his sign, turns it over, and writes something on the back in black marker. As she is writing, the blind man touches her shoes with his fingertips, striving to identify her. She replaces his sign with the one she wrote, then turns and walks away. Almost immediately, people begin to drop coins on the blanket and into the coffee can – not one coin at a time, but handfuls of them. They even drop in dollar bills! The donations are so abundant that the can quickly fills up, to the astonishment of the blind man. Somewhat later, the woman in black pumps walks by again. She stops; and as the blind man hesitantly touches her shoes, he recognizes her as the woman who wrote something on his sign. “What did you do to my sign?” he asks. She leans down and puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I wrote the same,” she says, “but in different words.” As the video comes to a close, we see the new sign that has inspired so much generosity. It now reads, “It’s a beautiful day; and I can’t see it.”

Friends, how can we not show gratitude when we realize that everything we have is a gift? The ability to enjoy the world around us; our friends and family who show us so much love; the ability to work at something meaningful; and the freedom to pursue whatever brings us happiness: these are all gifts of God. And, of course, the greatest gift of all is salvation – adoption into God’s family through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and made real to us by the Holy Spirit. We have so much to be grateful for!

So these are my Thanksgiving hopes for all of you. On Thursday, I hope that you enjoy a wonderful meal. I hope that you eat turkey and stuffing and pumpkin pie until you can’t hold any more. I hope that you enjoy the company of family and friends. I hope that you can relax, take a nap, and enjoy the parades and the football games on TV. But as you do all these things, I hope that you also do that one thing that matters most of all. I hope that you give thanks to God for all the blessings that you enjoy!

What Belongs to God

The Christian practice that I considered this week is generosity. Generosity arises out of the realization that we have nothing of our own, but that everything that we have and everything that we are belongs to God. Is generosity a part of your life?

During the past several weeks, my sermons have discussed some of our foundational Christian practices. The first practice we considered was prayer, throughout all the ages of our lives. Then, we discussed Bible interpretation, so that we can evaluate for ourselves what different churches preach. We considered our priorities, as we try to simplify our lives and make room for what is really important. Finally, last week we discussed community – that community of saints that transcends even death. That brings us to today’s topic – generosity.

Most people immediately think of money when the subject of generosity is raised. And, in fact, this is the season for stewardship sermons. During the month of November, millions of sermons will be preached by pastors who are trying to get their congregations to ante up a few more dollars – sometimes, quite a few more dollars – to meet their 2013 church budget. Certainly financial giving is a part of generosity. But Christian generosity goes far beyond what we put into the church offering plate each week. Jesus gives us a clue to what real generosity is all about in this morning’s story from the gospel of Mark (12:13-17). Although that story begins with a financial question, it ends with a much wider focus.

In this little story, members of the Jewish religious establishment are trying to catch Jesus in his own words. They want to get rid of him; and they are looking for a way to do it legally. So when they come to him with a question about paying the Roman tax, they think they have him in a dilemma that will put him into their hands regardless of his answer. “Teacher,” they ask, “Should we pay taxes to the government or not?” Now, that’s a “lose-lose” question if there ever was one! If Jesus says, “Yes, we should pay taxes,” the Jewish crowds could be incited to riot, and Jesus might even be stoned to death. (Paying taxes were even less popular in those days than they are today!) But if Jesus says, “No, Jews don’t have to pay taxes because God, not Caesar, is their king,” the Jewish authorities can have him arrested for treason. So Jesus responds, “Well, gee, let’s take a look at a Roman coin. Whose image is this on it? And whose name is written underneath the image?” That was a no-brainer. Everyone knew that Roman coins contained the image and the name of the emperor. Now, in ancient times, an image was frequently used to prove ownership. Since most people couldn’t read or write, the way to claim possession was to stamp their picture on something. Caesar’s face was on all Roman coins; so obviously, that money belonged to Caesar. Jesus’ answer is simple, wise, and deep with meaning. “So, give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar; and give to God what belongs to God.” The money is Caesar’s because it bears his image. But a second question hangs in the air unanswered – what bears God’s image? Jesus’ listeners all knew the answer to that question; and so do we. We can hear the author of Genesis whispering the answer in our ears: “So God created humankind in his image; in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.” We are what bears God’s image! The money may belong to Caesar, but we belong to God.

Since we belong to God, then we owe God everything we have and everything we are. We owe God way more than just a percentage of our bank account. God has the ultimate claim on our talents, our time, and everything that we own. And because we understand that everything we have is God’s, Christians view generosity differently than most folks do. In the eyes of society, giving dollars to charity, or buying nonperishable food for the local food pantry, or spending time working at a soup kitchen is very generous! And those are all good things to do, but they fall far short of real Christian generosity. If we are really generous, says Jesus, we will be willing to give up all that we have and all that we are for the sake of the gospel. What we have isn’t ours, anyway. It belongs to God; and if God needs it, then we are happy to give it back.

I happened to see a report on Friday’s nightly news about relief efforts that have been sent to help the East Coast in the wake of Hurricane Sandy. Many of the donations are coming from New Orleans, who survived Hurricane Katrina; and Joplin, Missouri, who survived a killer tornado. Because others had been generous with those survivors, they were generous, too. One video showed a semi truck that was loaded with supplies – clothing, blankets, and food. That kind of generosity is all the more remarkable because the donors were still living in trailers that FEMA had provided to them. Although they are still recovering from a disaster of their own, those people are modeling the generosity that Jesus wants of us.

Now, generosity like this isn’t very common. Many of us were raised to believe that a little bit of generosity is fine; but at some point, we have to hold to what is ours. So when we reach that point, we clench our hands into fists and we hang on tight! The trouble is that if our fingers are clenched into fists for too long, it’s really hard to unclench them. It feels wrong to relax our fingers and stretch them out so that we can let go of things. But that’s the example that Jesus gave us. What our fists are holding on to will be different for each person. Churches tend to encourage generosity in financial giving. But there are other types of generosity that are just as important. How much poorer would we be, for instance, if no one ever shared their talents with others? What if nobody played the piano, or sang in the choir? What if nobody wrote a newsletter article, or put together a Moment for Missions? What if nobody painted the kitchen, or helped Habitat for Humanity put wiring into a new house? Sharing our own talents generously is just as important as writing a big check! And even if someone thinks that they don’t have any talents to share, everyone has time to give. Gathering unused blankets and clothing to donate to the needy only takes a few minutes; but that time spent generously might help another human being to live through a long, cold winter. Generosity isn’t something that we tack on to our lives every now and then when we think about it. It’s a Christian practice rooted in the understanding that all of us belongs to God – money, possessions, time, and life itself.

Do you think generosity isn’t important? Listen to this old story from the Jewish tradition. It is said that a man was in prayer one day; and he began to ponder all the brokenness in our world. As he realized how much need was all around him, he sank into despair and cried out to God, “Why do you let this happen? Why don’t you send somebody to fix all this?” Deep in his heart, he heard the still, small voice of God answer him, “I did send someone. I sent you.”

Eternal Community

November 1 was All Saints' Day, a religious holiday that is not often observed in Protestant churches. Our church celebrates it, however, because it gives us a chance to remember our fathers and mothers in the faith. This sermon preceded a service of candle lighting and remembrance. Maybe it will bring to mind some cherished memories to you, as well.

Well, we’ve made it through Halloween for another year. We’ve seen jack o’lanterns, black cats, and dancing skeletons for weeks now. We’ve listened to spooky music on the radio, and we’ve watched Halloween episodes of our favorite TV shows. We’ve even gone out trick-or-treating with the little ones despite the windy, rainy weather. Yes, Halloween is a big deal these days.

The very next day, November 1, is All Saints’ Day, another day that focuses on the dead. At first glance, it appears to be very similar to Halloween.  But the two holidays are really very different. Halloween was originally a pagan holiday. It was a time to pacify evil spirits who might want to harm the living. That emphasis on evil is why being frightened is such a big part of Halloween. The scarier it is, the better people like it. Ghosts, ghouls, zombies, monsters – they all show up on Halloween. All Saints’ Day, in contrast, is Christian to the core. On All Saints’ Day, we focus not on evil spirits; but on our loved ones who are now resting in the arms of God. On All Saints’ Day, we are surrounded not by werewolves and vampires, but by cherished memories of family and friends. On All Saints’ Day, we rejoice in the reality of the community of saints that includes both the living and the dead – our mothers and fathers in the faith who have gone before us, as well as those of us here who are still among the living.

That great community of saints is why there is such a difference between Halloween stories and the stories that we tell on All Saints’ Day. On Halloween, we tell stories about people who are alone. Ghosts in Halloween stories are always alone. That’s why they haunt places. They are searching for the companionship that they had in life, but have now lost forever.

When Fred and I were in Wilmington, North Carolina on vacation recently, we went on a ghost tour. The tour took us to several places near downtown Wilmington that claimed to be haunted. At each stop, our guide told the story of its particular ghost. For example, at a stop on Third Street, we heard about a young man named Llewelyn Markwick. Markwick lived in Wilmington in the mid-1700s. He disappeared one night after spending an evening with his friends. Although an intensive search was conducted, he seemed to have vanished into thin air. Some years later, a large portion of Third Street blew away when a hurricane swept through the city. Someone noticed a bony hand protruding from the sandy roadbed. It turned out that the hand was attached to the remains of Llewelyn Markwick. Wilmington residents claim that he can still be seen walking around on Third Street, dressed in colonial garb. Sometimes, he’s even riding a horse. Is he looking for his family? His friends? His murderers? No one knows. But he is always alone. Eternally alone. (You can read this story and others in Ghosts of Old Wilmington by John Hirchak, Haunted America Press, ©2006.)

You’ll never hear a story like this on All Saints’ Day. That’s because God’s saints are never alone! They enjoy eternal community with God, with each other, and with those of us who are still in this life. We might not see them or hear them; but they are with God, and God is with us; so they are with us, as well. This community that transcends even death is one of the most profound gifts that God gives us through the risen Christ. Because Jesus lives, not even death can break the connection between us and those who are now living eternally with God. Through the power of the Holy Spirit, we are still one community of faith and love.

We know that, don’t we, deep down in our hearts? Sometimes we feel the loving presence of someone who hasn’t been with us in this life for years. Perhaps a familiar phrase springs to our lips; and after we’ve said it, we smile and say, “Ah! I sound just like my Aunt Helen.” We are never alone. The connections of love are just too strong. And those connections begin in this life, long before we cross the boundary of death. We come together to worship, to study, and to share our joys and sorrows. And when we are not physically present with one another, we lift up each other in prayer. Participating in a community of faith is part of the foundation of being a Christian!

I sometimes hear the question, “But can’t I be a Christian by myself? I don’t need other people around me to be a disciple of Jesus.” And technically, that’s right. There’s nothing in the Old or the New Testament that says, “Thou shalt gather in community on a regular basis.” But all of scripture assumes that we do that anyway! The Bible was written by a faith community for a faith community. And how much richer our lives are when we join together in community! Those of us who are strong in our faith are able to support those who are weaker. Folks who have read scripture for years can help others to learn about it. Younger people with physical strength can help those who are growing frail. And Christians who have financial resources can share with others who have less. Sure, each one of us could work and study and worship by ourselves. But why would we want to? The saints we remember today showed us what it meant to live for one another. They taught us, supported us, challenged us, nurtured us, and loved us. Isn’t that why we remember them? They set an example for us to follow – a community of believers who trusted God, loved Jesus, and lived their lives through the Holy Spirit.

That community is still alive. It lives on in the lives of each one of us here today. The saints who are gone still inspire us, guide us, and sometimes even correct us. By the grace of God, they are still a part of this community of faith. And so are we all, until time has ticked out its last second, and the eternity of God’s kingdom has arrived in its fullness. We are always in a community – an eternal community – by the grace of God. We are never alone.

 
Thanks be to God!

A Time to Throw Away

Jesus told a rich young man that he should sell everything that he had, and then follow after Jesus. Was Jesus telling us that we must be poor to get into heaven? I think that, instead, he was telling us that we should get rid of anything that comes between us and God -- and that might just be the vast number of possessions that we have! This sermon considers that possibility, and offers a few suggestions for simplifying your life.

If there was ever a scripture passage that makes us uncomfortable, surely it’s this one (Mark 10:17-27). When we hear Jesus say to the rich young man, “Sell everything you have and give it to the poor,” we cringe. After all, Mark tells us that the young man had “great possessions” – and so do we. Are we actually supposed to follow this radical command that Jesus gives? What do we do with it, anyway? If the truth be told, mostly we ignore it. We really don’t believe that Jesus meant what he said. If we did, we’d all be living on the streets and eating at soup kitchens. Besides, Jesus didn’t come to us in order to make new laws. Jesus came to liberate us from everything that was holding us captive. He exorcised evil spirits, healed people from debilitating medical conditions, and even overthrew social customs that kept some people permanently second-class. So what is this story doing right in the middle of the gospel?

Maybe – just maybe – this story points to a very sneaky way that we are all captives. That captivity doesn’t involve a jail cell or a prison sentence or even a curfew! No, it involves something that we value greatly – our possessions. We have lots of possessions, just like that rich young man. And those possessions hold us captive just as tightly as any pair of handcuffs. Think about it for a minute. If you live in a house, you have to clean it. If you have a big yard, you have to mow it. If you drive a car, you have to maintain it. If you have a walk-in closet full of clothing, you have to wash and mend those clothes. I could go on, but you get the idea. Our possessions dictate how we spend much of our time. That was as true for the rich young man as it is for us. Is it possible that Jesus told that young man to get rid of his possessions so that they no longer would be able to come between him and his relationship with God?

That brings me to the practice of simplicity. Simplicity is a Christian practice that is as important as the prayer that I preached about two weeks ago or the Bible study that I preached about last week. Simplicity helps us to put our priorities in order, and to ask ourselves whether we really put God first. When we practice simplicity, we look at what we have and what we do, and we decide what is really important. Maybe we decide to get rid of a few things to make room in our life for something that we don’t have right now. We don’t have to give up everything that we have in order to practice simplicity. But it does mean that we might need to throw out a few things.

Our culture isn’t very good at practicing simplicity. On the contrary, it tells us that the more “stuff” we have, the better off we are! There’s always something new being offered that claims to make our lives even easier than ever before! I went to the website of a major retailer yesterday, and I searched for “small appliances” just to see what they offer. Here are just a few things that you can buy, if you’re inclined to do so. They offered blenders; juicers; bread makers; waffle irons; coffee makers that brew one cup, 12 cups, and 30 cups; deep fryers; electric skillets; electric can openers; pizza ovens; food processors (in a variety of sizes); ice cream makers; mixers (both large and small); roasters; crock-pots; rice steamers; toasters; toaster ovens; and gadgets that shrink-wrap our food because we have so many leftovers we don’t know what to do with them all. And that is just for the kitchen! I know that we’ve moved on since Leave It to Beaver was on TV, but my mother could put a great meal together using a pot, a frying pan, and a couple of well-chosen utensils. She never needed an oven just to cook pizza!

“Sell everything you have and give it to the poor, and then come, follow me,” says Jesus. Maybe that’s not such a bad idea. And Jesus isn’t alone in his opinion. The book of Ecclesiastes reminds us that there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven. Of course, there is a time for gathering possessions! That’s why we host wedding showers, and baby showers, and housewarming parties. But at some point, there is a time to throw away, too. Simplicity was the very reason that some of our fathers and mothers in the faith chose to move away from civilization and live in the solitude of the desert. They traded ornate cathedrals with gold statues and silver baptismal fonts for the simplicity of a sunrise. They left the social rat race for the simplicity of daily prayers. They rejected the acquisition of wealth, and accepted the simplicity of hospitality, charity, and service. They took Jesus seriously when he said, “Sell everything you have and give it to the poor, and then come, follow me.”

It’s a little bit more difficult for us today to find that kind of simplicity. There aren’t many places where we could go to leave the world behind. Besides, entering a monastery is foreign to our tradition. We Protestants believe that it is important to engage the world, not withdraw from it. But there are some things that we can do in order to begin to simplify our lives and make more room for God. In his classic book Celebration of Discipline (1978, Harper San Francisco), Richard J. Foster makes a few suggestions to help us simplify our lives.

First, let’s be clear about the difference between wants and needs. We really need very few things; and God knows what they are. Do you remember what Jesus said to his disciples about that? “Why are you worrying so much, asking ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ The pagans run after all these things; and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.” We really only need enough food to keep us healthy, and enough clothing and shelter to keep us warm. Everything else is just icing on the cake. It is not our needs but our “wants” that hold us captive. Dr. Foster even suggests that we can become addicted to some of our “wants.” Because his book was written over 30 years ago, his examples of common addictions are newspapers, television, and chocolate. Nowadays, our addictions are more likely to be Starbucks coffee, email, or Facebook. But the principle is the same. If you can’t go even a day without a cup of Starbucks coffee, checking your email, or posting on your Facebook page, maybe it’s time to get rid of it for a while. Are you in charge of it – or is it in charge of you?

Second, don’t buy into our culture of accumulation. That’s a very hard thing to do. We’re surrounded by ads that urge us to “Buy, buy, buy!” In another week the political commercials will disappear, and they will be replaced by Christmas advertising. We’ll hear, “Give this diamond necklace, that updated computer, or maybe even a new car!” The trouble is that love can’t be measured by the amount of stuff you give someone. Maybe it’s time to remember that Jesus didn’t give us any “stuff” at all. He gave us his life.

Finally, develop a habit of giving things away. If you buy a new appliance, a new tool, or a new piece of clothing, donate the old one to a charity. Glance around your house. Are there things that you haven’t used in years? Give them away to someone who needs them. Even knick-knacks can be donated to Goodwill so that a someone with limited means can purchase something pretty to brighten up the house!

“Sell everything you have and give it to the poor.” No, that’s not a new rule that we have to follow in order to get into heaven. But it is one way to get out of the captivity of possessions. The practice of simplicity may not be as well-known to most Christians as prayer or Bible study; but it is an important practice to learn. After all, don’t we all want to have the time to develop a deeper relationship with God? And if we’re obsessed with our possessions, we’re not likely to take time to do that. There is, indeed, a time for everything, even a time to throw away. What time is it now?