Mundane Miracles

Scripture: Luke 2:22-40

Preached 12/28/2014

Take a deep breath.  Pat yourself on the back.  You made it.  The presents have been unwrapped; cookies eaten, and relatives and friends have gone home. However it happened, the celebration ended.  And now you’re sitting here in a church pew, as your life as you usually live it begins again.  Vacations too are ending, and the excitement of Christmas that built for weeks and even months has died down.  We’re slowing down again, like the little wind up toys in many stockings.  It’s time to get back to what we do every day, back to work or school, appointments and errands; back to normal.

This is just what Mary and Joseph are doing when our scripture reading begins. That night of miracles, the birth of God in the form of a little baby, the shepherds’ arrival and the angels’ songs, that’s all over.  Mary and Joseph are well into the mundane reality of life with a new baby.  Feeding the baby. Changing the baby.  Playing with the baby.  Hoping the baby sleeps.  And repeating that, over and over and over.  This little baby is indeed God incarnate, but he still come with all the mundane realities of infant care.  And now, Mary and Joseph are about to do more of the mundane stuff of life.  Mundane, but brave with a new baby, they are about to set out to- you ready for this exciting thing here- run an errand.

Luke takes pains to make clear that there is nothing special going on here.  The trip to the temple wasn’t a special celebratory one, it was just one to carry out the required cultural rituals that take place for mother and son eight days after birth.  Remembering of course that Jesus and his  parents were Jewish, they were just doing what any Jewish family would be doing on day eight.  And then on this trip that is supposed to be unremarkable, we meet Simeon and Anna.

They, too, are set up as normal, every day people.  They not rich.  They are not powerful.  People would encounter them every day and not have a second thought about them.  So here’s our set up- we have a family running an errand, and two older people who hang out at the temple a lot.  It’s not exactly thrilling, is it? It doesn’t exactly leave us expecting much.  It would be as if we were to open a Christmas card from a friend, expecting exciting news and highlights of their year, only to find an account of their recent trip to the grocery store.  This state of mind- this let down, this kind of lull, may well be the state we find ourselves in at this time of year.  The big excitement has passed,  and the mundane has returned.  Like with the Luke story, we aren’t prepared to expect much from the mundane reality of every day life.

However, there’s a character in our scripture passage we haven’t addressed yet, and this character steps in and shakes up everything, showing us the miraculous in the mundane.  Suddenly and unexpectedly, this story is changed from errand running to a story of God’s glory being revealed—and even Mary and Joseph are surprised.  The character who shakes everything up, in case you didn’t catch it in the reading, is the Holy Spirit.  Don’t feel bad if you missed it.  The Holy Spirit often escapes our recognition, both in scripture and in our lives.  In fact, throwback to seminary here, in my Christian Doctrine class, the section on the doctrine of the Holy Spirit was the section that got cut when the professor realized he had days in the schedule that were not possible to have class. 

There is something very subtle about the nature of the Holy Spirit- it slips past us, around our grasps, perhaps as intrinsic to its very nature as ephemeral. So this tricky character, this Holy Spirit enters and rests upon Simeon.  And the Spirit reveals to him the chance to see the messiah, and guides him to the temple.  Though we have no direct reference of the Holy Spirit in the verses that refer to Anna, we do have the description of her as a prophet, meaning literally, one who is gifted by the Holy Spirit to proclaim God’s word.  It might be a little subtle to our ears, but the Holy Spirit’s role is deeply woven throughout this scripture passage, just as the Holy Spirit is woven deeply in our lives.

However, just like you may have missed the Spirit’s role in this scripture passage, we can miss the Spirit’s role in our lives.  And if we let the Spirit slip past our notice entirely, we miss out on a lot.  We miss out on God’s active presence in our midst, and we limit God to only having acted in the past or only active in the very largest of miracles.  We miss what I see as one of the most amazing parts of God-- God is actively present with us here and everywhere; now and always.

As we sit here in church, our situation is not that different from the one scripturally described.  Yes, we are in a special place, in the middle of performing the rituals of a worship service, much like what Mary and Joseph were doing.  Though we are in a sacred place, we cannot deny the coexistence of the mundane.  Every single person here has, at least once during worship, mentally checked out and thought about something they need to do after they leave.  Admit it.  I do it too.  But you’re in worship.  You came here.  And I wonder- why?  Why did you leave your warm homes, take off comfortable pajamas, and make the journey to this place?  Did you hear the Spirit whispering in your ear, nudging you to come and worship the messiah?

And what did you, or do you, expect to find in this place?  Do you expect the ritual of worship to be mundane, something you trudge though, or did you come with expectations that the Holy Spirit would break through, whether in song or prayer, or sermon- hey a preacher can dream here- and give you a glimpse of the miraculous, right in the middle of your every day life?  Friends, our expectations matter here, because with eyes closed tight to the miraculous we may well miss it in front of our faces.

True, we may not have ecstatic prophecies take place before us, or angels sing miracles in our midsts.  But we still have every reason to expect the Divine, the miraculous, and the absolutely incredible. We can experience amazing gifts of God at any moment. As Christians, we believe in the Holy Spirit and its power to shake things up, so we may be wise to expect miracles at any mundane moment.  Or, at least to keep our eyes open, and when caught unaware as we often are, to accept and wonder at the miracles in our midst even if we didn’t expect them. 

A young man, in his early twenties decided to attend church with his new girlfriend. He hadn’t attended a church service in over a decade, and didn’t have much spiritual or religious connection in his life, and was really going just to spend some time with her.  Following the service he attended, there was a congregational meeting.  The girlfriend immediately began to regret her decision to ask him to attend this particular service.  The meeting was long, and quickly turned into a series of escalating arguments.  When it finally ended, she was apologetic.  This thing that was supposed to be a good experience for them to share turned into, in her eyes, the worst of the mundane.  No way was he ever going to return to church with her, right?

But he saw through different eyes.  He was thrilled.  This was what his spirituality had been missing—opportunities for discussion and disagreement, valuing of different voices, diversity in thought embraced.  The young man began regularly attending church, eventually joined, and is in a lay leadership position in his own church today.  What had seemed so mundane to the girlfriend had been an occasion for the Holy Spirit to connect to the young man, and for the girlfriend to reconnect to the miracle of a familiar happening.

Now that Christmas Eve and day are over, we can get back to our normal lives.  However, it is in our normal life experiences that the miraculous is revealed to us by the Holy Spirit. It’s not just angels, prophets, miraculous births that show us the inbreaking of God.  God can and does use what we think of as mundane to surprise is with the miracles that surround us. As you go about your routines this week, be on the lookout for the Holy Spirit’s presence your midst.  The mundane may not be so mundane, and the miraculous may not be so far away.

                             

             

Praise Like Kittens

Scripture: Psalm 148

Preached 08/31/2014- Blessing of the Animals Sunday

What happens when kittens come to class?  That’s what one seminary professor wanted to find out.  Or, maybe she really just wanted an excuse to bring her two newly adopted kittens to work with her.  Whatever the reason, one day, seminary students were surprised to enter their usual classroom and find two adorable little balls of fur roaming around. So, to answer the question, what happened?

Pretty much exactly what could be expected. The kittens wandered about, up and down the aisles.  They jumped on tables, they rubbed against legs, they lounged in the sun and they chased after toys.  And classroom full of graduate students, future pastors of America and several other countries, 20-60 something year old adults, basically turned into little children. They cooed, they watched, they petted and played with the kittens. They also paid no attention to the professor, who had fired up a PowerPoint and moved to the front of the room.  She actually had to shout to get their attention.

“When God created animals, did God create kittens?” she called out.  A chorus of assents came forth- yes, sure, of course- God made kittens.  “So kittens are God’s creations, God’s creatures, and God calls them good and is pleased with them?”  Again, this was a softball question, the kind you jump on so you don’t have to answer the hard ones later, and again her question was met with a chorus of different versions of yes.  Then, she started reading the psalm that Grant just read for us. Remember, the psalm that called for everything and everyone in heaven and on earth to praise God? “Praise the Lord, animals, cattle, creeping things, and flying birds.”

“Are kittens included here?” the professor asked. The students started to realize that this series of questions was actually going somewhere a little harder.  The chorus of “yes’s” was a little slower this time.  “So these kittens,” the professor continued, “are supposed to praise God.  How do kittens praise God?”  Silence descended on the room, broken only by occasional purring and mewing by the two kittens.  The students pondered the question.  How do kittens praise God? 

It’s a tricky one, huh?  Much of what we associate with praising God is exclusively human activity, right?  We humans praise God in worship, like this morning.  We praise God through our prayers, our songs, and our responses to scripture.  We praise God through the money we put in the offering plates.  We praise God through taking care of God’s creation, through sharing fellowship, through thoughts and words and deeds.  We praise God through specific, conscious actions that are pretty far outside the reach of a kitten, or a dog or a rabbit or a cow for that matter. 

We don’t expect animals to come to the sanctuary each week.  They aren’t going to sing a hymn.  They can’t put money in the plate, they can’t form words of prayer, and it’s pretty doubtful that they even have the cognitive capacity to conceptualize the existence of a higher being, of God.  So how do kittens praise God? . . . And the silence descends here too!

As the silence grew longer in the seminary classroom, the students thought.  They avoided the gaze of the professor.  And finally, one bold student came up with an answer.  “They praise God by being themselves.  God created them.  God loves who they are, and God delights in them embracing that and fully being who God created them to be.  So, in giving God reason to delight in them, just by being the kittens they are, they praise God.”

It was a good answer.  The kind of answer I wish I could have come up with but can’t take credit for- this wasn’t even my seminary, let alone my class or my answer.  Kittens praise God by being who they were created to be.  By lounging in the sun.  By purring, by nuzzling, by playing.  By being fascinated by laser pointers, and digging into the carpet with their claws.  They praise God by embracing and living out their kitten-ness to the fullest sense.

Puts a different spin on praise, huh?  Not just for kittens, but for us too.  Everything I mentioned before- coming to the sanctuary, singing songs, praying prayers, returning money to God, all that stuff is still praise, and still good.  But what if kittens can teach us something?  What if they teach us that what we think of as worship isn’t all of it?  What if we, too, can worship God like kittens do?   
By simply being ourselves- the creatures God created us to be. 

I know this is a hard one for Presbyterians, but for us too, there are ways to praise God outside this sanctuary, and outside the weekly worship experience.  Our entire lives can praise God, if we let them reflect our created purpose.  We can play.  We can enjoy.  We can lounge and frolic and relish life, and just not think about any of our self-imposed “supposed to’s” for a while.  But to be fair, we don’t get off quite as easy as kittens do.  Lounging in the sun and playing around can be part of how we praise God in our everyday lives, but there is in fact more.  Because if we go back to Genesis, to our creation stories, we find that unlike other creatures we are given a purpose that is bigger than simply multiplying and filling the earth. 

We humans were given special abilities.  And we were given a special responsibility too.  We are to be the caretakers for the rest of creation.  So- those of you who garden, congratulations, you’re already praising God in your every day life.  Those of you who care for pets, you’re already doing this too.  Those of you who have helped out the people in need in Ferguson or anywhere else, you’re already praising God in your life outside the sanctuary.  Through recycling, through biking instead of driving, through feeding the birds or the ducks, through teaching our children about the wonders of nature or simply getting out there and reveling in it yourself, you are praising God.  Through your donations to the humane society, Feed My People and Isaiah 58, the bracelets you’ve made for Crisis Aid, you’ve praised God.

And I know each and every one of you has so many more examples you could give of ways you praise God outside this place- through sheer enjoyment, through being that care taker, that beloved care-taker that God created you to be.  You already know what to do, and you already know how to do it because it is your very essence.  The challenge here may be simply to revel in who you have been created to be.  Not to act, to think, to pray, to give out of a sense of guilt or compulsion, but out of joy at those things being part of who God created you to be.  To play, to rest, to enjoy fully, knowing that this too, praises God.

So when you leave this place, look at some kittens.  Some birds, some squirrels, dogs, or rabbits.  Watch them enjoy and revel in who they are.  And then do your best to do the same.  Be the creature you were created to be, and revel in it.  Find joy in it.  Find God in it.  Amen.

Get out of the boat!

Scripture: Matthew 14:22-23

Preached 08/10/2014

 

David was a pretty typical 9 year old.  He was spunky, adventurous, and maybe a little too brave and self-confident for his own good.  All of these wonderful yet slightly dangerous characteristics were amplified when he was around his uncle Joe, who was also adventurous and a little too brave for his own good.  And of course, there were Uncle Joe’s kids, full of energy, bravery, and self-confidence of their own.  When you got all of them together, it usually ended up looking something like those old cartoon scenes with the Tasmanian Devil- clouds of swirling and messy chaos ensued.  So, in the hopes of minimizing the impact of this chaos on their house, David’s parents had sent him out into the woods with his uncle and cousins.

While out hiking together, they came to some steep terrain, and found a sort of cave.  David was the first to rush inside.  He saw a hole in the top of the cave up above, and climbed up, figuring that it led directly to the ridge they were all headed to for a meal.  He was almost all the way to the top, about ten feet up and just about ready to stick his head out the top of the hole and see if he really was in the picnic ridge, when his foot slipped, and he began to fall.

You see the parallel already, don’t you?  David and Peter have a whole lot in common.  Peter, not a nine year old, but certainly filled with a sense of adventure, with bravery, and perhaps a little too much confidence for his own good has also embarked on a risk filled adventure.  Peter is one of the first disciples that Jesus calls. He and his brother were invited by Jesus to join him on an adventure, and they unhesitatingly dropped everything to follow Jesus.  And since that time, you could say that Tasmanian devil style clouds of chaos have ensued.  Jesus has cured the sick and raised the dead.  He has taught radically new and different interpretations of the Torah.  He has made enemies, been kicked out of towns, and had invited his disciples to join him fully in this created chaos. 

However, when our scripture reading picks up this morning, Jesus is less like Uncle Joe, creating clouds of chaos, than he is like David’s parents, hoping for a little peace and quiet.  It’s pretty understandable that Jesus would need a rest.  He just gotten done teaching and feeding 5,000 people, which has to be incredibly tiring.  He doesn’t have the energy for the questions and chaos of the disciples, so he sends them out in the boat while he takes some quiet time to pray.   While it is a time of rest and rejuvenation for him, it is not so for the disciples.

As seems to happen a lot of the time when they are together, chaos ensues.  A strong storm comes up, and batters their boat with wind and waves.  They must have had a busy night keeping themselves and their boat safely afloat.  And then, in the early hours of the morning, with the storm still going on, the cloud of chaos grows.  Let’s take a quick break from the story here for a little perspective.  We, as modern readers may misunderstand the emotions of this situation a little bit.  We tend to confuse this story with the one where Jesus stills the storm.  In that one, the disciples are cowering afraid in the boat, thinking they’re about to die.  This is not that story. 

We actually don’t have anything in our text to indicate the disciples were afraid of this particular storm.  Many of them were experienced fishermen before Jesus called them, meaning that they were well used to dealing with these sudden and unexpected storms, that are actually quite common in that area.  But, if we stick to the actual text, we find that the disciples aren’t afraid until we get to the middle of this story- the part where they see a figure moving towards their boat on the water.  I absolutely love this part- a group of grown men freaking out together because they think they see a ghost.  It’s very human and very relatable. Honestly, which one of us can honestly say we’ve never been freaked out by a good ghost story, or strange sounds in our homes in the middle of the night or something we’ve seen out of the corner of our eye.  If we were the disciples, regardless of our actual belief in ghosts, we probably would have been doing the exact same thing. 

And Jesus certainly doesn’t fault the disciples for their fear.  He simply tells them he’s himself and not a ghost, and to take heart and not be afraid.  And Peter, perhaps more than all the others, really does take heart, and is emboldened enough to want this adventure he’s on to go to the next level.  Did you catch the order things happen here?  Peter asks Jesus to ask him to come out of the boat.  He’s just like the adventurous but slightly unsure child, asking their friend to dare them to do something they want to do anyway, but need a little extra push.  And Jesus responds as any good adventurous friend would respond, and tells Peter to come out of the boat and onto the water.

Somehow, over the years, Peter’s journey on the water has become an example of lack of faith, but I strongly disagree.  Peter does amazingly well here.  He’s the one who asks for the invitation to do more.  He’s the one who climbs out of the boat on his own power.  And he actually walks on water.  And he almost makes it all the way to Jesus.  If you remember, when he started to go under, scared by the wind and waves, Jesus doesn’t even have to move.  He just has to reach out his hand to catch him to pull him up.  Rather than being an example of faithlessness, Peter is a miracle of faith-full-ness.

Yes, Jesus does say he has little faith.  Or, if we’re being more true to the original Greek, Jesus calls him Little-Faith, kind of as a nick-name, the kind of teasing friends and family tend to do with each other.  But since when is a little faith a bad thing?  For Peter, a little faith is enough to drop everything and follow Jesus.  It is enough to participate in Jesus’ ministry of feeding, healing, and teaching.  It is enough to want to get out of the safety of the boat, to step into the chaotic waters, and to walk on them almost all the way to Jesus.  Little-Faith certainly goes a long way.

For David, a little faith in his own ability and an openness to adventure got him almost all the way out the top of the cave.  And yes, if you were wondering, his uncle was there to catch him when his little bit of climbing ability wasn’t enough.  And rather than scolding David for climbing up the hole, Uncle Joe simple gave him a hug and told him to make sure someone was there to catch him before he went on his next climb.  Uncle Joe didn’t want to discourage his curiosity, his sense of adventure, his bravery, or his self-confidence.  All these things that led to the slightly dangerous cave adventure were also wonderful.  And Jesus didn’t want to discourage Peter.  He had some faith, bravery, sense of adventure, self-confidence, and most importantly, confidence in Jesus.  Those things, especially the faith in Jesus, can and do lead to some risky situations.  Stepping into the unknown, stepping out of the boat, off of the floor, out of our seat in the pew, and into chaos and adventure- these things come with risk.  But they also come with the possibility of great rewards- our own version of the miraculous water walk.

In this congregation, we have plenty of opportunities to step out of the boat coming up.  Just this week, on Tuesday we have an opportunity to join in fellowship and bracelet making for Crisis Aid.  On Friday, we can join Living Waters for a movie night, either to help out or just to attend.  And on Saturday, we have our first community meal, again with the opportunity to come help serve, or simply come for a meal with each other and our neighbors.  All of these, of course have risk.  You could be like me, and not be the crafty type.  You could know that making bracelets does not come naturally for you, and be afraid of failure, and not come to the bracelet making time because of that.  Or you could step out of the boat, knowing that there will be a supportive group of people there to help you whenever your bracelet starts to head south.

With the movie, you could have to give up your usual Friday night plans.  If you decide, you could be working rather than relaxing.  Or you could be relaxing, but in a different way than usual.  And you may be afraid of what a new worshipping community- Living Waters- means for our congregation.  But you can step out of the boat and go anyway- serving, relaxing, enjoying new company, and remembering that there is certainly more than enough Jesus to go around.

For the meal, you could be afraid that this time and monetary investment on the congregation’s behalf won’t have any measurable return.  You could be nervous about meeting new people and having to strike up new conversations.  It could be like that first day of school when you’re worried about where you’re going to sit in the lunch room and who you’re going to sit with.  But you could step out of the boat and go anyway.  First, we know that as a congregation we are good at this food and fellowship thing.  And if we get one neighbor to attend, eat, and enjoy some conversation, we have certainly succeeded in meeting a need in our neighborhood.  And I promise, you won’t be alone as you eat and converse and perhaps feel a little nervous, but not only will there be supportive others from Calvary, you do in fact have the Holy Spirit upholding you as you participate in the sacred mission of feeding and eating with those around you that Jesus himself modeled.

So here’s my charge for all of us- get out of the boat.  Get out of the comfort, the safety, and the familiarity of what you’ve always done, and try something new- there is no shortage of opportunities this week.  Take your adventure in faith to the next level.  Be bold, be spunky, adventurous, and maybe even a little too brave for your own good.  Remember- Jesus will be there to catch you should you slip, and even a Little-Faith can accomplish miracles.  Amen.

Making the Journey

Scripture: Genesis 24, Selected Verses

 

Preached 07/13/2014

She spent the first two days hiding out in the nurse’s station, but you can only feign headaches for so long. The first bits of the light began to filter through the trees on that third morning, and she wondered how she had even ended up there in the first place.  She blamed her parents.  It was their idea.  They filled out the form, attached the check, and sent the envelope in.  And now she was the one stuck at this camp.  For some reason unknown to her, her parents had checked the box for the cycling camp.  And she wasn’t a cycler.  And this camp used the 20 mile rides as warm-ups and trainings for the longer rides the group was supposed to complete together by the end of camp. 

Since she had basically missed the first two days of camp, she didn’t really know any of the other girls in her cabin, and she was shy.  As she lay there silently fuming about her parents’ decision, the counselor’s alarm went off, and the group of girls made the journey to the bathrooms to get ready for the day.  Kayla, we’ll call her, took her time getting ready, in hopes that the group would just assume she wasn’t coming, and would leave without her.  But as she made her leisurely way back to the cabins, she realized that her hopes were not coming to fruition.  The group was indeed ready without her, but they were standing there, waiting for her, and she was stuck having to face them.  They had one simple question for her- will you come with us today? Please?

Kayla didn’t know what to do.  Part of her wanted to run and hide.  And another part of her wanted to jump on a bike and see what happened.  So she stood there, silently for a moment, as she contemplated her answer.  It was a big moment for Kayla.  It was the moment when she decided if she was open to the exertion, the challenge, the adventure, and all the unknown this bike journey offered her.

I wonder if Abraham’s servant felt much the same way.  Our reading picks up after Abraham asks the servant to set out and find a wife for Isaac, but I’ll fill you all in a little more than the introduction to the scripture reading does.  The servant doesn’t actually get a name in our text, but his traditional name is Eleazor, so I’m going to call him that.  Abraham is talking to Eleazor, who is not just any servant, but the servant in charge of Abraham’s house, and all the other servants.  And Abraham asks Eleazor to swear an oath to him that he- Eleazor- will go back to Abraham’s ancestral homeland, and there convince a woman to come back with him to be Isaac’s wife.  It’s no easy task Abraham asks Eleazor to swear he will complete.

And much like Kayla contemplating her long bike trip, Eleazor is naturally a little hesitant.  First, it’s important to know that not only is Eleazor Abraham’s most trusted servant, he is also the oldest servant.  And this is no easy journey Abraham is asking him to make.  It’s not 100% clear exactly where Abraham is at this point in the story, but the journey back to Nahor could easily be hundreds of miles.  This would be a desert journey, with the hot and cold of the desert weather, the lack of water, the lack of shade, and the lack of shelter and safety that went along with it.  Eleazor would be walking and on camels, and anyone who has ever ridden a camel knows that even that isn’t very easy.

And then there’s the actual getting a wife for Isaac part of the oath Abraham asks Eleazor to swear.  He’s supposed to go into this land, and convince some woman he doesn’t know, and who doesn’t know him, to come back with him across this same journey and marry some man she’s never met.  Eleazor is hesitant, and understandably so.  But, whether out of love of Abraham, trust in God, a sense of obligation or a sense of adventure, he swears the oath and sets out on the journey.

As we have already heard him relate in our scripture reading, his journey was successful.  He makes it back to Nahor, prays to God for help in knowing which woman is the right one, and right away his prayers are answered in Rebekah.  Again, as we heard she is made known to him through her act of extravagant kindness and generosity- offering water for his camels.  It might not sound like much, but a thirsty camel can drink up to 30 gallons of water, and remember, there were 10 camels with Eleazor.  It was no easy task to draw each bucket, and the hundreds of gallons of water drawn for this stranger and his camels had to have been exhausting.  But Rebekah draws for them anyway.  Then Eleazor gives Rebekah a nose ring and bracelets and prays aloud thanking God for making his journey successful.  Rebekah had to think he was kind of nuts at this point, as she runs away, back to her mother’s house.  Her brother Laban, hearing the story and seeing the jewelry, then heads out to meet this strange man his sister is talking about.

And so our scripture reading picks up and Eleazor tells the story and Laban listens and then the real invitation to a journey to the unknown is given.  Rebekah, who has only just met this man, is asked whether she wants to leave everything she has behind and travel with him, to be the wife of a man she has never met.  The scripture gives us no clues about her feeling.  She may have been excited, or she may have been terrified.  She may have been ready to leave her homeland at the first opportunity, or she may have wanted to cling there to her family for as long as possible.  The pause before her answer must have been a very pregnant one, as she decided whether or not she would risk the exertion, the danger, the excitement, and the possibility that this journey offered her.You know what happened next.  Rebekah responds to the invitation to go with this man with a simple two word answer.  “I will.”

Like Eleazor and Rebekah, Kayla decided to go on the journey her fellow campers and counselors invited her on as well.  It wasn’t easy.  In fact it was really, really hard.  Her legs ached, she had to walk her bike up some hills, and at one point she ran out of water and thought she was going to pass out.  But the journey was also wonderful.  She saw beautiful things.  She had great conversations when the group stopped to rest and talk.  And when she made it to the destination at the end of the day she was both exhilarated and exhausted.  But, she was glad she had gone, and she joined with the group every day after that, upping her miles, her adventure, and her personal growth.

We don’t hear much about Rebekah’s actual journey.  We just know she made it to Negeb, the destination, and that her adventure didn’t stop there.  She meets Isaac, marries him, and as we’re told, is loved by him.  It’s really just the start of another big adventure, another journey into the unknown, for Rebekah and for Isaac.

There is a purpose to all these stories of journeys into the unknown.  Because we, too, have been asked to take a journey into the unknown.  God has been asking us all this from the very beginning of our lives, but we can feel it acutely here this morning.  Jim shared with us about the New Beginnings report and decision to move in a new direction as a congregation.  Our leaders have discerned that God is asking us to leave the comfort and familiarity of our homeland- in this case, our regular seat in our regular pew- and to go somewhere and do something new.

We don’t necessarily have as far to go as Eleazor, Rebekah, or even Kayla, as what our leaders have discerned from your input and from the Spirit’s whispers and nudges is that we are called to begin our journey into the unknown right here, in this neighborhood.  All those people- biblical or not- found and gained incredible blessings on their journey.  Eleazor’s prayers were answered, and he was thrilled by the kindness and strength of an unknown and faithful woman.  Rebekah gained an adventure, and a loving husband.  And even Kayla was able to experience a newfound strength, as well as friendship and beauty, on her journey. 

So as God asks us to go on a journey of our own, it’s important to remember it’s not just about the hard stuff- the effort, the risk, and the unknown.  It’s about the possibility.  And the journey into this place around us, seeking to fill some of the needs we encounter, is full of possibility.  It’s full of the possibility of new relationships, of encountering people of incredible strength with powerful stories and great faith.  It’s full of the possibility of spiritual growth, of answered prayers.  It’s full of the possibility of beauty that we’ve never experienced.  And most importantly, it’s ripe with the possibility that we as a community will live into Christ’s calling to love and serve our neighbor, to join with him on the Way, the adventure as we seek to journey together towards God’s intentions being born again all around us.  Amen.

The Nightmare Test

Scripture: Genesis 22:1-14

Preached 07/06/2014

It happened every semester.  Right around finals time, the same old nightmare would rear its ugly head.  Here’s how it went.  I would be looking through my stuff from the semester, studying for the finals I had.  And then suddenly, I would notice it.  The syllabus for a class that I had completely forgotten about, and never attended, read for, or turned in a single assignment.  And now, right now, was the time the final exam was scheduled- the final exam I had to ace in order to pass the class.  So I would run flustered from my apartment to the classroom, barely make it into the classroom before the door was shut, Tommy Boy style for those of you who have seen the movie, and would be given the exam.  And I would look down at it, and realize that all hope was lost, and I was completely unprepared for this awful test that had just be given to me.

Of course, my nightmare testing experience never actually happened to me.  But this morning, we read of a nightmarish test that is much worse than anything that I’ve dreamed up for myself.  Let me be clear at the outset here.  I deeply dislike this story we’ve just heard.  I am deeply troubled by it, and I thoroughly distrust and will not be preaching the traditional interpretation that this is a story of a test of faith that Abraham passed brilliantly.  This story is awful.  It is terrifying. And you, too, likely have some of the same reactions to this text.  So let me say- good.  We are supposed to be horrified by this story.  We are supposed to be terrified, outraged, and sick to our stomachs at the thought that God would ask for and Abraham would carry out child sacrifice.  Why? Let’s look at some historical context to begin to understand.

This story comes from a very, very different time from our own.  Abraham is removed from us by thousands of miles, and about 4,000 years. At that time, Christianity of course did not exist, and neither did Judaism as we know it today.  Abraham came before the Mosaic laws and codes that are foundational to Judaism.  So Abraham is basically trying to figure out what it means to worship Yahweh while surrounded by people and cultures whose devotions are foundationally different.  And, in those ancient cultures that surrounded Abraham child sacrifice was a commonly accepted practice.  So, while the suggestion of child sacrifice sounds outlandish to us today, to Abraham’s ears, it would have sounded familiar.  Remember, Abraham is trying to figure out how to worship Yahweh, and following the patterns of the religions and cultures around him would have been an easy thing to do.

So God asks Abraham to take Isaac to mount Moriah and do what those other religions have people to- sacrifice a child to the gods, or in this case, God.  Well, at least that’s what our English translation leads us to think.  But the actual Hebrew itself is much less clear.  First, there is a “please,” making this a request that Abraham can refuse.  Second, without a whole Hebrew lesson here, what God asks Abraham to do is “leh-ohleh,” which could indeed be translated to mean sacrificing a child, but could also be applied equally well to many kinds of worshipping acts that aim to connect humans and God.  Of course, at the time, those other acts of worship hadn’t really been laid out at all for Yahweh worship.  So it’s ambiguous language to Abraham’s ears that he likely doesn’t fully understand.  If this is a test, it might be a pretty good time for him to ask a clarifying question, huh? 

But my guess is that you remember what Abraham does.  Without any kind of clarifying question, Abraham does exactly what he thinks God wants him to do.  Gets Isaac ready to go and heads up the mountain to slay him.  He thinks he’s about to pass this nightmare test with flying colors.  Not one question. Not a bit of protest. Abraham doesn’t try to bargain or change God’s mind.  And Abraham is not shy about bargaining or questioning in general.  In past chapters we’ve seen him bargain and argue with his family, a Pharoah, and even God, directly.  Yet when it comes to his son, the only son he has left, the son he loves, Abraham falls silent and doesn’t offer one word of question or objection.  Not exactly loving Abraham right now?  You’re not alone.  And you’re on the right track.

Abraham heard God, and yet he didn’t fully understand, though he thought he did. Abraham couldn’t fully understand.  And yet he plunges forward with what he thought God wanted, not based on what he heard from God, but what he thought God meant based on what he saw happening all around him.  He saw child sacrifice, he figured that was what God wanted.  And here, we have Abraham failing God’s test.  I know, we have all probably heard the traditional interpretation that this was a test of faith and Abraham passed.  But I beg to differ.

Abraham failed the test, and he failed it because he didn’t understand what it was about.  This is why we’re supposed to be sick and outraged at the way Abraham acts- he’s failing the test here.  We know this, in our gut reaction.  Child sacrifice is no way to get an A in our faith.  

This test isn’t what Abraham, and many interpreters through the years, thought it was.  Yes, this is a test of faithfulness.  But it is not a test of faithfulness to God through willingness to sacrifice a child.  It’s a test of faithfulness to God through understanding God’s true character.  And God is not a child abuser or murderer, but rather One who loves, though and through.  And Abraham should know this.  After all, God promised and delivered Isaac, Abraham’s beloved son.  God guided Abraham through a famine safely.  God provided for Abraham’s other wife and son when Abraham threw them out.  God was good, faithful, and loving through it all.  And while God may ask us to lay down our own lives, God does not call us to place anyone else on the sacrificial altar, no matter how much persecution, hatred, violence, and fear we see going on in the world around us.

Abraham failed the test, and he failed it because he didn’t understand.  He didn’t question, he didn’t clarify, he just went with what he saw going on in the world around him- putting the vulnerable on the sacrificial altar.  Abraham failed, and yet God did what God always does.  God loved unconditionally, God forgave, and God redeemed even a man who so fundamentally misunderstood God’s character that he thought child sacrifice would be acceptable to God.  God redeemed him, blessed him, and still fulfilled the promise to make a great nation of him. 

So what about us?  How are we doing on our own faithfulness?  Whether or not God is actively testing us right now- are we ready to bind up vulnerable others and place them on the sacrificial altar- perhaps children who have entered this country illegally, women who want access to birth control, same-sex couples who want to get married, the homeless person who wants to join us in worship, or the working mother who wants to make a livable wage?  How does our God guide us to react to these vulnerable people we see all around us?  My suggestion is that any time we feel the urge to put someone on the sacrificial altar, we too, are failing in our faith. 

Unlike my semester ending nightmares, we don’t have a one-time final exam of our faith.  Our whole lives test our faith, and my guess is no one here wants our faith to fail.  So we need to keep listening to God, to keep questioning, keep returning to scripture again and again.  We can’t just show up unprepared, not having done any of the reading or completed any of the assignments.  We can’t just have forgotten about God and that we were supposed to be living out God’s love the whole time.

Though God will forgive us, redeem us, and love us just like Abraham even if our lived-out faith is lacking or even failing, we can do better.  God is still speaking, still asking much of us, still bidding us to respond. So let us learn from our father in faith and the test that he failed.  And let’s do better, learning, questioning, remembering, protecting the vulnerable, and above all knowing and living out the love of God in all we do.  Amen. 

After the sermon, this song was played:In My Name (You Shall Love) by Leela and Ellie Grace

           

Biblically Epic Fails

Scripture: Genesis 21:8-21, Psalm 86:1-10

Preached 06/22/2014

You know that awesome feeling when you complete a project you saw on Pinterest and it’s absolutely perfect, just like the picture that inspired you to do it in the first place?  Yeah, me neither.  However, we can take solace in the fact that if we have every failed in our Pinteresting or general craft or food making adventures, we are not alone.  Let’s look at some vivid examples of our companionship. 

 In this first one, the Pinterester was attempting to make these glitter bottles.  I have no idea what the bottles are for, but they’re pretty and colorful. 

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The person who attempted the craft said that they wanted to make the same thing, but with black and gold glitter instead of the pink and purple show.  Here’s how that turned out for them.

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Okay, so the next example.  It may be a little hard to figure out, but this is Pinterest gold for those of you who aren’t familiar with Pinterest.  It’s the project and the instructions in one simple picture, which totally has to mean that it’s easy, right?  So the goal of this craft is to make that cool egg shaped holder for candy, and it’s basically done with glue, yarn, and a balloon.  Can’t fail, right?

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Want to see what happened to the person who attempted this?

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Last one, and I have to include this because I could not stop giggling when I first came across it.  Here’s what they Pinterest-er was trying to make.  Cute little cupcakes that basically just involve sticking part of a cookie and some candy on a frosted cupcake.  Again, so simple it’s set up for success, right?  

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Let’s see what actually happened.

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This kind of thing happens to all of us, right?  Even if you’re not a Pinterest user, I bet we’ve all tried, and failed.  We’ve attempted a home improvement project and gotten in over our heads.  We’ve taken on a baking or crafting endeavor, and had it end with ourselves glued to something or the smoke alarm going off.  We’ve failed a driving test. We’ve tried to look graceful and tripped all over ourselves.  Messing up, even messing up in a spectacular day, epic fails, if you want a more contemporary tern, are an inescapable part of human existence.  And in our scripture reading, we find that epic fails in human endeavors go way, way back.

Back even to Abraham and Sarah, some of our earliest ancestors in faith. My guess is that you’ve often looked back at these two as examples of faithfulness.  But this scripture passage shows us both Abraham and Sarah in all the glory of epic failure. 

Let’s start with Sarah, since her epic failure comes earlier in the scripture passage.  Before our reading picked up, Sarah had given Hagar, her slave, to Abraham so that Abraham could have children through Hagar.  As disturbing as this is to us today, the practice of secondary marriage to and children through slaves was a commonly accepted practice in the ancient time this story portrays.  Sarah and Abraham needed children, and Sarah herself would gain inheritance and security though any male children Hagar had.  So Hagar does have a child, a son and names him Ishmael.  And then, miraculously, Sarah herself is able to conceive and have a child, whom she and Abraham name Isaac. 

When she has a son, all inheritance rights that Ishmael, Hagar’s son, would have had, are terminated.  But as we can see, Sarah still feels insecure.  She sees Isaac and Ishmael playing, and all of a sudden we have her epic fail.  She goes into a jealous rage about the two boys playing together, and insists for no real reason that Abraham send Hagar and Ishmael away. 

And then we have Abraham’s epic fail.  I don’t care how much the biblical writer tries to soften the blow here.  Abraham sends his wife and son out into the wilderness with a little bit of bread and water.  They have no money or resources, and no way to get them.  The Hebrew word for what they do out in the wilderness suggests aimless, hopeless wandering- Hagar and Ishmael had nowhere to go and nothing to fall back on in this wilderness scene.  Sending out a wife and child into that is definitely an epic fail in basic human decency on Abraham’s part.

Hagar and Ishmael are wandering in the wilderness.  And the bit of bread and water given to them run out, and Hagar faces the horrible reality that she has no way to provide for her son, and he is about to die.  She can’t face this, and moves away from his plaintive cries and cries out to God herself.

And then, if you remember, we get to the good news in this story.  God hears Hagar, and God hears Ishmael.  There’s no epic fail on God’s part here.  God does what God has promised to do- takes care of those who were outcast by those in a position of power over them.  God gives a well to Hagar, who gives water to Ishmael, who grows strong and gets married, and becomes the father of a great nation himself- he’s the son of Abraham through whom Muslims trace their ancestry. 

Abraham and Sarah fail epically in this story, but God does not.  And it’s not just in this story that God is faithful to promises- promises like making Ishmael a great nation, and hearing him, promises like hearing all in need, like caring, and loving way beyond human beings.  All these things are essential to God’s very nature.  Our psalmist reminds us of this- that God is good, giving, and forgiving.  Always, even when we fail epically at carrying out God’s love in the world.

Because let’s face it.  We have a lot in common with Abraham and Sarah.  Like them, sometimes we can be examples of faithful living, we can be resourceful, joyful, and receptive to God’s word.  And other times, we fail.  We cast others out into the wilderness because we’re not comfortable around them, we worry that they may change things for us, or we just don’t care enough to say no to others who want them out.  And we may throw a little bread and water their way- some words of encouragement, useless platitudes, or even invitations to come back to a hostile place where they have to hide who they really are.  We aren’t perfect at this loving your neighbor thin.  Not by a long shot.

But God is.  If loving your neighbor were a Pinterest craft, God’s would look exactly like the inspiration picture, since God made that inspiring love in the first place.  God hears the cries of all who have been cast out- the poor, racial minorities,  LGBTQ people, drug addicts, homeless, felons- you name them, God hears them.  And God loves them.  And God wants them to be able to grow and thrive.  And even us, those faithful people, e who epically fail- God loves us, God hears us, and God wants us to grow and thrive.  And let me make that a little more personal.  God loves you.  God hears you when your cry out.  And God wants you to grow and thrive.

God’s arms are open wide.  So let us do two things.  First, let us accept that love that God gives to us so freely, regardless of who we are, what we have done, where our life’s journey has taken us, or how we have failed on that journey. 

Second, let us look at this Pinterest worthy picture of God’s expansive love.  And let us do our Pinterest best to make our love look the same way.  Ours might end up looking a little wonky at first, but the good news is that God tells us to keep trying.  To go back to the original, and to try to follow more closely each time.  And one day, may we all know the wonderful, Holy feeling, of imitating that love beautifully enough that others want to imitate it too.  Amen.

Where are you from?

Scripture: Genesis 1:1-2:3

Preached 06/14/2014

So, apparently, I do some pretty strange things.  For instance, I use the word pop instead of soda.  I cannot pronounce the letter “o” the way I hear many of you do it.  I have no answer to the “where did you go to high school” question, and I don’t know the magic coded information you’re getting when others do answer it.  And without google maps, I have no idea where any of the little outlying suburbs are, let alone how to get to them, and I give a lot of blank stares when people ask me what direction something is.  So, because of my strange behavior, I get this question a lot: Where are you from?  

I’ve been asked that question enough that by now I have a pretty standard answer.  I tell the person who asked that I grew up in Iowa, and then moved here a few years ago for school.  I fell in love with the town, and was blessed with a call to this church that allowed my family and me to stay in St. Louis.  And so far, my quick little story of where I’m from has satisfied people curious about the origins of my strange behavior.  Blame Iowa, I suppose.

We all have our own answers to the question.  Where we grew up, the moves we may have taken, and how we ended up in the place we are today.  And it’s not just St. Louisans  who are curious about where people are from.  It’s a universal question, and it goes far beyond St. Louis, and far beyond curious individuals.  Every culture has asked this question- “Where do we come from?” and every culture comes up with its own answer.  What we heard spoke this morning was one of two answers the ancient people of Israel came up with, and preserved in their sacred scripture. 

The ancient people of Israel had a definite need to come up with an answer to the question of origin.  They were surrounded by different cultures that offered them different origin stories from which to choose.  For example, one Babylonian origin story has several gods create humans, then immediately regret their decision.  Human beings are too loud, the story goes, and disturbing to the gods.  So from then on the gods sought to destroy the humans they had created.  As you’ve perhaps noticed, origin stories serve a purpose- they explain something that is otherwise inexplicable, like for example why I say pop and am always lost.  And this Babylonian story explains for its believers why bad things like war, famine, and disease happen.

The gods are angry.  They want to destroy us.  And in response to this origin story and its angry gods, believers responded by attempting to appease those angry destructive gods through worship and sacrifice.  It worked for them.  But not for the ancient people of Israel.  They needed a different story of their origins to tell and share.  Why?  To explain their own strange behavior. 

For example, as you probably know, the ancient people of Israel were monotheistic- they worshiped one God.  This was very strange in their culture, which was unapologetically and thoroughly polytheistic.  As you probably noticed, the Babylonian story is unapologetically polytheistic also.  I skipped the names of the gods mostly because I couldn’t pronounce most of them, but there are a lot of gods working, fighting, and plotting in the story.  The Babylonian story explained the sacrifices and worship style of the ancient Babylonians.  The ancient Israelite story did the same thing- showed why they worshiped one God, and why they worshiped not necessarily out of fear for their lives, but out of awe and reverence.

The ancient Israelites also needed to explain their strange worldview.   While the Babylonian story explains a focus on death and destruction, annoyance and regret, that was not the focus of the ancient people of Israel.  Did you notice the refrain you repeated? “And God saw that it was good.”  God created, and didn’t regret.  God created, and instead of finding darkness a hindrance, mosquitoes annoying, or human beings too loud, God calls them good.  God is happy with God’s creation.  God even goes so far as to bless human beings and animals.  This ancient Israelite story tells us not why there is bad, but why there is good.

Those ancient people of Israel looked around them, and saw amazing things.  They marveled at the sky, the sun, the moon, the earth, water, animals, plants, and people.  They needed a story of their origin that explained marvels and their marveling at them, not problems.  I could go on and on about the aspects of ancient Israel’s culture and religion that are explained and contained in this story, but I won’t because I think you get the point.  These stories we tell about where we come from serve a purpose.  And what I’m interested in is what purpose this story of our origins continues to serve today.

We are not the people of ancient Israel.  Our culture is completely different from theirs.  Our religion is very different from theirs, both in content and how we express it.  And yet, we use the same creation story because for us, too, it continues to answer questions.  In a world that is more than ready to assign us identities based on race, gender, sexual orientation, or economic status, this story continues to be a place where we find the ultimate explanation of our true identity.  We are God’s.  We were created by God and we were called good.  And this place in which we find ourselves, this earth, air, and water filled with all kinds of plants and animals- they too were created by God and called good.

And yes, this creation story gives us a reason for some behavior that may seem strange to others.  Because God created the world and called it good, this story of our origins helps explain why we take care of the earth- for example, why we have that recycling bin in the parking lot, and why our gardeners take such tender care of the plants they grow and plant on our property.  Because God created everything, we have a reason to give back to God- and this helps explain why we give away 10% or more of our income to the church, or why we volunteered our time at the Feed my People food drive.  Because God created all people and called them all equally good, regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, or social status we also have explanations for why we do work with certain people others may reject, or why we have certain stances on social issues.

And this explanatory function where we came from is all well and good.  In fact, it’s important to see the ways this story still speaks to us and of us today, and continues to tie us to God at our origins.  But we can go even farther than that.  Because an origin story can go further.  And instead of stopping at the why, it can move us into the what.   It can give us a mission, and a sense of purpose.  I am not going to attempt to draw a single mission and sense of purpose out of this scripture reading.  But we can look at one together, knowing there are many more possibilities contained in this story of origin.

Today is Trinity Sunday.  And I’ve been avoiding mentioning that because Trinity Sunday is hard.  It’s the only Sunday in the liturgical calendar dedicated to a doctrine, and the traditional route of dealing with Trinity Sunday is to attempt to explain the Trinity in a 15 minute sermon, which is completely impossible.  As I believe there really is no way to fully capture the Trinity and all our best tries only wind us up in heretical territory, here’s what I will say.  This story of our origin was our lectionary text.  And it doesn’t really mention the Trinity at all, does it?  Yes God is there and we have an inkling of the Holy Spirit and some plurality to God in the “let us create human kind in our image” verse, but if you didn’t already know about Jesus you would never guess he was on the scene here.  Our scripture doesn’t attempt to describe the whole of the Trinity.  And it certainly doesn’t seek to explain it.  What it does do is describe what God is led to do, how God is led to act, because of God’s mysterious nature.

So in looking at how we are called to act, keeping in mind the Trinitarian God we believe is in this scripture passage, here’s an idea I have: because of the Spirit’s movement, we are called to go out into the creation that God called so good and be bearers of the good news of God’s love, especially as it has been revealed to us in Jesus, for the sake of the whole beloved world.  We aren’t called to ponder the Trinity, and definitely not to figure it out.  We aren’t called to sit around thinking, we’re called to imitate this mysterious and Triune God who went out, and did good.

If you notice, in our origin story God didn’t just do one thing and stop.  So we, as a group of different people, are probably called to a lot of different things, and this imitation of God will look differently for each of us.  But here’s the most vital part- just get out, and do good.  You are innately good, and you bear the imprint of the Divine within you.  The Divine who made all that is good, who got out there and did something, even though no one was making God do anything.  And yes, some of God’s work looked strange- we’ve all seen platypus, right?  But it was good.

So here’s my charge for all of us.  Get out there.    Imitate our mysterious God whom we don’t fully understand, but who we know created us with the imprint of the Divine doing good.  And do good.  No matter how strange it may look to those around you.  May we be so filled with God’s Spirit and do such wonderfully and holy strange work that we all get asked that old question “Where are you from?” Amen.