This page contains the manuscripts for sermons preached at Calvary Presbyterian Church.
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Thursday, February 27, 2014

love them?




Scripture:

Matthew 5:38-48


Preached  02/23/2014

 
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A Great Dane in Canada found an orphaned baby fawn near the house, and took charge of raising it till it was old enough to go back to the forest – but the grown deer came back for tender reunions every now and then. 
 A homeless dog in Florida found its way to a farm that rehabilitated abused horses, and took one particularly ill and beaten horse into its heart.  Together, they dug a hole under the fence that separated them, so the dog could lie near the horse and guard it, a relationship that lasted till the horse died, and then the dog accompanied the horse to its grave. 
 A donkey in England belonged to a woman who also had a sheep she had rescued.  One day a pit bull came into the yard and went for the sheep, sinking its teeth into the sheep’s neck.  The woman came running to the sheep’s frantic cries, in time to see the donkey charge the scene and bite the pit bull in the neck, hanging on till the dog let go.  It took a lot of nursing to save the sheep, and Dotty the donkey stayed by her side for the months of healing.
Owen, a baby hippo orphaned by the Asian Tsunami, chose Mzee, a 130 year old male giant tortoise for a surrogate mom when he arrived at the animal park in Kenya.  It was a miracle Owen survived when his entire pod was drowned.  It was a miracle Mzee stepped up to mothering, when he was male, ancient, and from a species that does not nurture its young.  For a year and a half they were inseparable, and Mzee taught Owen how to be a fine tortoise, swimming, eating vegetation along the shore, and sleeping in the sun.[i][ii]
Okay, before we all go into diabetic shock from all this sweetness, I’ve got to stop.  This kind of love—these animal friends, can be almost unbearably sweet.  And it’s love that Jesus talks to us about this morning, in this section of the Sermon on the Mount.  Love your neighbor, he says.  Aww. 
It gives us warm fuzzy feelings, doesn’t it?  Kind of like those cute animal friend pictures.  But of course, as you already heard and I already reminded you, Jesus keeps going, on to what is one of the most difficult few verses in the bible.  Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you.  Yeah, that just got a whole lot harder.  In fact, it seems almost impossible.  Especially when we get to the very last verse.  Anyone remember the last one?  “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father (or mother!) is perfect.”  Umm- yeah.  Sounds pretty impossible to me.
This is one of those moments where I wonder a bit if Jesus really knew what he was asking his followers to do, and I bet they had the same wondering too.  Maybe, just maybe the Son of God can do this.  But us, normal people, love neighbors and enemies and people who persecute us?  That’s kind of nuts, right? Jesus’ call for us to love seems to fly in the face of reality. There are a million reasons that loving our neighbor, our enemy, and everyone in between just won’t work. 
Jesus clearly doesn’t understand the conundrum of what he’s asking us to do. 
And if you notice, Jesus doesn’t even seem to be too interested in the difficulties, either.   Jesus just says to love.  Since we, as Christians, claim to follow this Jesus guy, who by the way, seems to be asking more radical things of us every week, maybe we should take our cue from Jesus.  So instead of dwelling on all the reasons it’s hard to love others, we can look at all the ways it is possible to love across boundaries. 
            For example, we could look back to those cute animal pictures.  You didn’t think we were done with those, did you?  You knew I wasn’t going to leave them alone.  As adorable as those animal pictures are, they’re not false, saccharine sweetness.  They’re actually great examples of loving across difficult boundaries.
            Back to the first picture, the Great Dane and the baby deer.  The Great Dane is a carnivore, the deer a vegetarian.  I’ve already seen this kind of cross-dietary love happen here at Calvary, so you’re doing some of this loving the “other” stuff already, and maybe didn’t notice.  But this has a further implication—different mindsets, different values and beliefs like those reflected in dietary choices can keep us from loving others.  But if these animals can figure out how to get past it, so can we.  The deer and the Great Dane also have wildly different cultures, the deer living in a forest, and the Great Dane living in the house—meaning that love across living situations, such as loving and caring for the homeless—is indeed possible. 
            The horse and the dog are a wonderful example of loving in spite of barriers.  Perhaps our own woundedness keeps us from loving others—we are afraid of getting hurt, of failing in our endeavors, or of being rejected.  The horse and the dog had both been abused, and yet loved one another anyway.  If they can do it, so can we. Perhaps physical barriers—like the walls of this church, the walls of our houses, or the largely racially segregated neighborhoods in St. Louis keep us from loving some of our brothers and sisters.   But, if a dog and a horse can dig a hole under a fence, so can we.
            Maybe it’s fear that keeps us from loving others.  Maybe it’s fear for our own safety, going somewhere we normally wouldn’t and engaging with people who frighten us somehow.  But the donkey and the sheep remind us that this doesn’t have to stop us.  We can go into neighborhoods, countries, and situations where violence is rife because sometimes that’s where love leads us, if we let it. If a donkey can take on a pit bull for a sheep, we can certainly face our fears for the sake of loving our brothers and sisters whose lives and safety are in danger. 
            I’ll be honest with this last one—it’s a concern I’ve heard voiced here before.  Maybe we think we can’t love our neighbors and our enemies and everyone in between because of our age.  Maybe it’s because we’re too old, and feel like we’re tired with nothing left to give.  Maybe it’s because we’re too young, and we feel like we’re too busy or don’t know enough.  But seriously, if a 102 year old tortoise can nurture a orphaned hippopotamus, we too, regardless of age, can offer love in the form of nurture, teaching, and support to those who need it in our midst.
So maybe, instead of getting hung up on who we can’t or why we can’t love, we can take a cue from those animals we saw earlier.  Even though those animal friends may seem saccharine at first, just like Jesus words to us to love one another may seem saccharine at first, they’re not.  Those animals have messy history, as groups, with loving one another as well.  They have all these barriers they have to cross and social norms to break.  They don’t come from the same background.  They have different languages, so to speak.  They live in different ways, they eat different things, and some of them have been known to eat others of them. And yet, they didn’t let any of that stop them from loving.
And if those animals can do it, perhaps it’s possible that we can actually do it too.  Like the Great Dane and the little fawn, we can ignore color, race, and cultural expectations, and nurture and be nurtured by those very different from us.  Even if, like the homeless dog and the abused horse, we have a lot of pain in our past and scars in our present, we can still love.  And like the same horse and dog, we can get past any barriers that anyone puts between us and anyone else.  Like Dotty the donkey, we can be love in action, even if it requires us to step into anxiety producing situations.  We can step in to love our brothers and sisters who are being hurt, oppressed, or cast aside.  Even if we think we’re too old, or can’t care enough, like Mzee the tortoise, we can still love.  Even if we feel vulnerable, like Owen the baby hippo, we can still love,
We can get past all the reasons that we can’t love, and just love anyway.  After all, this is what we were created to do, to love.  Love is in our innermost being, and it’s part of every bit of who we are.   This is actually what Jesus is reminding us when he tells us to be perfect as God is perfect.  The Greek word used in the text here is from the same stem as the Greek word telos, which means goal, end, or ultimate purpose.  The sense of the word isn’t about never making a mistake.  The real sense of the word is to become what is intended, or to accomplish one’s God given purpose.  Jesus is telling us here to live out our God created identity as the beloved children of God.
We don’t have to stay hung up on all the reasons we can’t love, because we can.  It’s not impossible.  Love is who we are created to be and what we are created to do.  Just like we’ve now all seen those animals who loved their friends across barriers, we’ve all seen unlikely love happen in our own lives as well.  Maybe it looks like turning the other cheek when someone insults or hurts us.  Maybe it looks like giving, and giving, and giving to those in need.  Maybe it looks like going above and beyond when you are asked to do something for someone else.  Or maybe it looks like an unlikely friendship or partnership, one that others on the outside may stare at in wonder and awe. 
 
Whatever this unlikely love looks like, know that it’s what you’ve been called to do, and who you’ve been called to be.  You were lovingly made in God’s image, created to love others as God loves you.  So go from here, and be who you were created to be.  You are God’s beloved and loving child.  Be who you are created to be.  Amen.



[ii] All stories from Unlikely Loves by Jennifer Holland.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Anger



 Scripture: Matthew 5:21-24  

Preached 02/16/2014     

 Her name was Diana.  She was 4, maybe 5—whatever age children are when they start kindergarten.  She had short blonde hair, and she was big.  I was 4, maybe 5, also in kindergarten.  We were standing outside after recess, lining up to go inside.  If any of you remember kindergarten, you’ll remember that being first in line is a big thing.  It’s where the cool kids stand, and you definitely want to be up there, not in the back, where you have to wait forever and follow.  So we were lining up, and I was going to get that first spot.  I ran with all my little kid might, and I made it to the first spot in line.  And then, Big Diana came up behind me, pushed me out of the way, and stole my awesome spot at the front of the line.
            This was not cool.  I had earned that spot at the front, and I was going to keep it.  So, depending on whose version of the story you believe, I either just moved and stood in front of her, or pushed her.  My version is that I just stood in front, so we’re going with that.  And then, big, mean Diana pushes me out of the way, again.  And I think we continue with this pattern for a while.  Eventually, one of the recess monitors sees us, and we both get in trouble.  We had to go to the office, and get lectured, and then we had to stay inside for recess for a whole week or two, which at the time seemed like forever. It was all Diana’s fault.  I was mad.
And what’s the point of this story from more than 20 years ago?  Simply that I still remember it.  I still remember what some mean girl did to me one day more than 20 years ago.  And in my head, she’s still mean.  If I met big, mean Diana today, I would not want to be her friend.  Because she’s mean.  She got me in trouble, and I’m mad.
 For more than 20 years, I’ve been carrying this little bit of anger around inside me.  I don’t think of it very often.  It honestly took me days to remember when working on this sermon.  But it is still there.  I still remember the old story, and when I relive it, I still feel mad. It’s not really that big of a deal though, right?  Because it’s not like I murdered anyone or anything like that. . .
Let me just say that by the first verse of the scripture passage read today, I’m doing pretty well.  Jesus says: “You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder’; and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’”  Check mark.  I did not kill Diana.  I haven’t killed anyone, ever.  I’ve got this righteousness thing down, huh?  I’m following the rules perfectly well. 
But then Jesus keeps going. Oh, Jesus.  Jesus and his words.  His sermon on the mount that just keeps on going.  Right after verse 21 where I’m feeling really good about myself.  Yes, I have heard not to murder.  Yes, I’m good at that.  But then Jesus says that not simply not murdering is not good enough.  Jesus has the audacity to keep talking, and to ruin my perfectly self-righteous anger.  In verse 22 he says “22But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire.”  I’m not doing so well anymore.  Definitely angry.  And even though I didn’t call Diana a fool, I think calling her big mean Diana definitely qualifies as insulting her. . .  My self-righteousness is waning quickly.
I’m going to make a guess here.  Every single one of us may have felt our self-righteousness waning quickly as we heard Bill read Jesus’ words to us.  Because my guess is that every single one of us, at some point, has held on to anger.  I bet we’ve all even fallen into the trap of insulting someone, even calling them a fool.  After all, the general cultural wisdom is that anger and resentment are okay.  They’re deserved, appropriate responses even.  And as long as we don’t physically hurt them—even if we maybe insult them, even call them a fool, not to their face of course-- then it’s okay to just hang on to that anger for the foreseeable future.  Who cares about a little anger, right?
Well, for starters, Jesus cares.  I want to emphasize that when Jesus is speaking about anger in our scripture passage, he’s not giving us a new rule to follow.  He’s interpreting the existing Torah.  And instead of going by the letter of the Torah, what he focuses on is the intention of it.  And what he says, in this section of his sermon focusing on anger and hurtful words is that the intention of the law is not simply that we live with each other without killing off people who anger us. 
It’s that we live with each other in real, healthy relationship.  And anger, the kind of anger that can lead to insults and maybe eventually even murder, is destructive to relationships. It’s destructive to our relationships with ourselves and with others.  You probably know by now that I think in pictures and stories, so to explain what I mean, I have stories. 
Let’s start with how holding onto anger can hurt us.  A boy got angry pretty often.  One day, his mother told him that every time he got angry, he had to go outside and hammer a nail into the fence in the back.  As the days went on, he learned to control his anger, and eventually didn’t have to hammer any nails in the fence.  His mother told him that every day he went without losing his temper, he could take a nail out.  Eventually, every nail was out of the fence. Then the boy and his mother looked at the fence together. “What do you see?” she asked.  “I see holes.” He said[i]. 
Anger punches holes inside of us.  And when we hold on to anger, it festers, and those holes get bigger.  Until we can take out the anger, the wounds it causes to us won’t heal.
How does anger damage our relationships with others?  Another story.  A saint and his disciples came to a river bank, where a family was shouting at each other.  The saint asked his disciples, “Why do people shout at each other when they get angry? The other person is still next to them.  They could just as well use a soft voice.” The disciples came up with some answers, but none of them satisfied the saint.  So the saint said to them “'When two people are angry at each other, their hearts distance a lot. To cover that distance they must shout to be able to hear each other. The angrier they are, the stronger they will have to shout to hear each other to cover that great distance.[ii]  Anger damages our relationships with others because it puts our hearts at a distance, and you can’t love when your hearts are separated by that great distance that anger creates.
I will be the first to admit that it’s hard to let go of anger.  It’s like pulling the nail out of yourself, instead of a fence.  It’s like moving your nail-wounded self next to a prickly cactus and hoping it doesn’t get poked again.  Long story short—it can be unpleasant.  But it is so important that it’s worth the pain and the risk, because the pain and the risk of holding on to that anger are even greater. 
So, to all of us who are holding onto anger, no matter how justified it may be, no matter how big, mean, and wrong the other person may have been, Jesus has a charge for us.  Be reconciled.  Drop whatever you are doing, even though it’s probably important to.  Go to that person, if you can, pray it, journal it, or draw it out, punch a pillow, talk to someone else.  But get it out. 
A bit later in worship, we’ll have a chance to do just that—to get rid of the old anger we’ve been holding onto.  So for now, spend a little time in silent reflection.  What anger do you have inside you that you need to let go?  I’m giving you all these little pieces of paper, and you can write or draw something that represents some specific but of anger you’ve been holding.  We’ll get to what we’ll do with this anger in just a bit, but as you reflect, know that God has healing and restoration in store for you. 

(if you want to re-create the activity, we simply tore up the paper with our anger represented on it, and then recycled it, asking and trusting God to make something new and better out of the old anger we released)

 


[i] http://www.care2.com/greenliving/nails-in-fence-anger-story.html, Annie Bond
[ii] Spiritualshortstories.com