Sour Grapes

Sour Grapes: Ezekiel 18: 1-4; 25-28; Matt. 21: 23-32

            A master architect began designing the building that would be a career-defining structure. The building was sketched and measured with careful drawings and beautiful designs. It was to be a glorious building to be intricately and beautifully made. And right at the last few pages of design the architect gave up and crumpled every sheet of paper, then threw the design away. It would never work and likely the whole thing was flawed.

            The next day the paper was retrieved and smoothed out. The finishing touches were added, and a bit of color made the whole thing come together. The architect looked at it with great pride and joy. About that time the secretary came by and looked at the artistic design. The secretary turned his head slightly, and said, “Looks kinda weird.” The architect, now bitterly upset, took her drawings and threw them away again. But the truth is that the secretary, he was simply filled with sour grapes because of her skill.

            Now the important question. How many of you expected the architect to be a man? Now, lest you think I’ve gone down the politically correct pathway in this sermon, fear not. That’s not the whole point here. The true point is that by making the architect a woman and the secretary a man, you got a strong dose of the unexpected. Both our scriptures today give us a similar dose of the unexpected. In the Hebrew lesson, we read of God redirecting a question of blame. And in the Gospel, we hear of the sour grapes of the Pharisees.

            The phrase “sour grapes” comes from an old proverb and an Aesop’s Fable. It means, generally, that people will blame something unattainable as being bad anyway. For example, if a guy fails to win an award, he might say, “Well, it’s not that prestigious anyway. Wasn’t worth it.” Now, in our Old Testament, we see a God addressing the idea of curses and punishments being visited on multiple generations. It was typical in Old Testament times that, if the grandparents sinned, it would be held against 3 or 4 generations of the family. The reverse of that was any good and bad fortune of the people could be attributed to God. They could have sour grapes if they didn’t like what God was doing.

            Here, God is giving prophecy to Ezekiel that this will be no more. There will come a day, which is our time now, when people will be held accountable as individuals for what they do wrong. But with individual accountability comes individual responsibility. God says here that people can no longer blame God for bad things happening in this world. It’s always a lot easier to blame God for our suffering, than to look in the mirror at what humanity has done.

            We ask these questions—why do people hurt each other? Well, they chose meanness instead of peace. Why do we have war and suffering? People chose violence over mutual working together. Why do we have sickness, suffering, and death? The answer is too often we forget God’s promises of life and hope everlasting and to be that hope in the world. If you read Acts 2, you’ll see that the church was set up to reflect God’s kingdom of love, grace, and generosity. It was meant to mirror the same Jesus who fed the multitude, shared his miracles of healing, and called on people to be physically and spiritually made whole—go and sin no more, he told them. In Ezekiel God asks a bold question to the people who said God has not done right. God asks, “Am I the one not doing what’s right, or is it you?” Perhaps that’s a question we can still ask ourselves to this day?

            But even in the New Testament, we see these sour grapes continue. Jesus was not the Messiah that Jewish elite and religious leaders wanted. He was poor, challenging, and did not cater to their sense of power and order. They saw the miracles he performed and instead of belief, they had sour grapes.

            In the parable for today, they decide to challenge him, and in turn, he hands them back a challenge they cannot win. Then he tells a parable. Now in every parable Jesus talks about work, everybody works in a vineyard. I have no idea why Jesus seems stuck on the vineyard. So, let’s update it a bit for us. A man owns his own mechanic shop and has two hefty repair jobs coming in the same day. He asks his two sons to come and help him. One says, “Sorry I can’t,” but later he changes his mind and the work on that car gets done. The other son says, “Sure, Dad, I’ll help,” but he never shows up. The car owner, furious the work was not done, takes his business elsewhere and gives a bad Google review costing the father business.

            Jesus tells the Pharisees that because they were proud, unrepentant, and foolish, they would not see the Kingdom of God. They claimed they would go work for God’s kingdom, but they lied and turned their backs on God’s call. The corrupt tax collectors and prostitutes, the low of the low in Jesus’s day, initially said no, but when they met Jesus, their hardened hearts melted, and they followed Jesus into the work of God’s Kingdom.

            In our time, we have too many pharisees, and not enough workers for God’s kingdom. I read an article a few weeks ago from a Southern Baptist leader, Russell Moore, that some of the ministers in his denomination were told by church leaders not to preach on the Sermon on the Mount because it sounds too weak in our time. A friend of mine joked the other day that we can set aside the different translations of the Bible because instead of NIV or King James Version, the newest is the “Cherry-Picked Version.” How sadly true, and how much is missed!

            The reason the tax collectors and other undesirables followed Jesus so easily was because they could see the power in his love, his grace, and his call to redemption. Jesus didn’t create a society that made them suffer; instead, he offered them the same hope and redemption that was available to anyone. Those who struggled with sickness, were corrupt, were adulterers, drank too much, had become bitter and hardened, or wrestled with their own demons found a Savior who offered them grace, then said, “Go and sin no more.” The struggle might still exist, but the sin was gone. Do we find that same kind of grace in the church today? Or, do we find a place of sour grapes?

            Jesus changed things around in a way that created personal responsibility and accountability for faith. In the religious world Jesus lived in, none of these folks could find grace because it was socially wrong. No matter what they did, they would always be on the margins. But Jesus changed that, and the folks with power had some sour grapes.

            The idea of sour grapes comes from Aesop’s Fables. A fox was walking in the woods one afternoon and saw a bunch of grapes hanging over a lofty branch. He believed this would be good to quench his thirst. Yet over and over again he jumped up trying to get them and could not. Finally, he gave up and said, “They’re probably sour anyway,” as he walked away. The moral of the story is this: It’s easy to despise what you cannot have.

            A secretary belittles his architect’s work because he couldn’t design something so nice. The people in Ezekiel’s time couldn’t go back to the promised land because of their wrongdoing and blamed God instead of being accountable. The Pharisees tried to humiliate Jesus because they didn’t want him teaching things that undercut their power. Sour grapes…all of them. But if we look to Jesus, we see the example of grace, love, welcome, and most importantly redemption for those who have been told they were unworthy. There are no sour grapes in the Kingdom of God; there is only grace.

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Life Lessons Pt. 7

Have It Your Way At Burger King: Jonah 3:10-4:5; Matt. 20: 1-16

            A few weeks ago, I got an email that really just set my teeth on edge. You probably know the kind I’m talking about. It’s an email that is condescending, snarky, and intended to make you feel two inches tall. Normally, I don’t have a temper, but there are times (like that) where I can go from smooth as silk to full on eruption if pushed enough, and this did it.

            I furiously started typing this response email filled with all manner of sarcasm and snarky responses. I rounded it out with, “I guess you can just call me Burger King from now on because you always have to have it your way.” And then, just as I had vented and calmed down and started to delete the email, I absent-mindedly clicked send instead of delete. Thankfully I did not end the day actually having to apply at Burger King and anywhere else for work. Our scriptures for today contain a lot of anger and concerns over fairness. So, let’s look at ideas of fairness in life as well as fairness in God’s kingdom.

            All throughout my life, I’ve heard the saying, “Life isn’t fair.” I have a feeling the vineyard workers in our gospel parable would agree. In the parable Jesus told, a landowner goes out in the morning and hires workers for his vineyard to work the full day for a full day’s wages. They agree to these terms. The landowner then goes back out at nine in the morning, noon, three in the afternoon and at 5 PM, one hour before quitting time. Each of these workers he encountered he hired at the daily rate and sent to work in the fields. It’s important to note they were all willing to work, but they could not find any employment that day.

            At the end of the day, he sends for the workers, and beginning with the last hired, pays them all the same wages for the day. Now, note here, in ancient times you were not paid hourly. It was one, flat daily wage paid at the end of the day. The owner’s actions infuriated the workers who began work early in the morning. They thought that they should be paid more than the regular wages for a day because they worked longer. And I would say that most of us would agree with that. After all, it only seems fair, right?

            But Jesus was painting the idea of fairness in broad strokes. Instead of the fairness of work to wages for the day, he was making a point about how we value people, and how we work for fairness. His exact words in verse 16 are, “So those who are last now will be first then, and those who are first will be last.” Think of it in these terms. The workers hired at early morning knew they would have a day’s wage. They knew they would be able to feed their family on what they were paid. They were secure and set, not fearing what would happen. The ones hired late in the day had spent the entire day looking for work, and they were likely panicked about paying bills, feeding their families, and making some kind of living.

            The owner asks, “Should you be jealous because I’m kind to others?” We live in a similar societal mindset. If you are a blue-collar worker, of average wealth to less wealth, live in rural areas, speak with a country twang, are a different race, speak a different language, or might have a tattoo or piercing, society will often judge you. You’re labeled as the last, and life or the society you live in will tell you that this ain’t Burger King and you cannot have it your way. I know the truth of this. I see it when I tell people that, despite being a lawyer and minister here in Georgia, I grew up in a small, single-wide trailer in Eastern Kentucky, relatively poor. There’s always a passing look of shock when that truth is told.  

            Jonah also struggled with ideas of fairness. He hated Nineveh, and wanted it destroyed. He felt the only fair thing was for him to go elsewhere and refuse to preach God’s message to them. If he didn’t go to preach, they would surely all die, and to him, that was fair. But God made him go and preach to them that they should turn to God or risk destruction. They heard the message and indeed turned to God. Jonah was mad. He is furious that God is merciful, compassionate, and filled with unfailing love. His words. And because he’s so mad about God being merciful, compassionate, and filled with unfailing love to Nineveh, he says, “Just kill me now!” To Jonah, sparing Nineveh was not fair. They deserved destruction. But God says, “You cannot have it your way, when God’s way is the right way.”

            To us, this gospel parable and God’s mercy in Jonah seem wrong at best, and perhaps even downright unfair. But remember the words that Jesus says at the end of the parable: “So those who are last now will be first then, and those who are first will be last.” To those who have been looked down upon, considered not good enough, judged, unloved, unworthy by society’s standards, these are the very people Jesus came and loved. He dined with tax collectors, protected the condemned, healed Gentiles, and loved the unloved.

            But maybe for us, this parable would make more sense if we moved it from the world of labor and salaries to the deeper meaning of how this parable explains God’s kingdom. For those of you who thought the salaries were unfair in this parable, I ask you this. How many times did you celebrate at the conversion and salvation of the thief on the cross on Good Friday? Every time we get close to Easter, we hold up this guy as an important symbol of how Jesus can bring hope and salvation to anyone at any time. At the very last moments of life, on the cross, this man believed, and Jesus said that that very day he would join Jesus in paradise. I have never heard someone say afterword from the congregation, “Yeah, but he should get the tiny house over the hilltop instead of the mansion because the disciples followed Jesus longer.”

            When we apply this parable to the Kingdom of God, we seem to find a way to rejoice at the life of faith and heavenly reward someone receives whether they were dedicated to faith for 50 years, or find Christ on the deathbed… at the evening hour, as the parable says. We all labor for the same everlasting hope in God’s kingdom. It’s not a question of status, for the last shall be first and the first shall be last. Why? Because Jesus came to love and care for those who were suffering, hurting, and most in need of good news.

            We often hear that life just is not fair. I fear that in our world that can be very true sometimes. But just because life isn’t fair does not mean we should ever stop working to make life fair. Part of our mission on life is to teach God’s love and grace to others. But also, Jesus healed the sick. Jesus spent time with the suffering and outcast. Jesus did a lot of things that went far beyond just salvation. Our mission in this life is bold and expansive. We are to live like Jesus, as if we are his ambassadors and representatives in this world.  As the hymn says, “Let others see Jesus in you.”

            A friend of mine was complaining about his mother and his sister. His mother had repeatedly given money to and helped his sister when she got into financial trouble. It had been about three or four times, and the sister’s issues had cost a significant amount of money to fix the debts. Yet my friend complained that his mother had never given him such money. Life had been hard. He’d had to struggle, and not once had he been given money for it.

            He asked his mother before the resentment really built up and interfered with their relationship. His mom said, “You’re right.” But then she went on to say that she knew how capable and resourceful he was. She knew he could get himself out of any situation and be strong in life. She said, “Your sister cannot do that. I love her, but she just can’t do those same things, and she needs help in life. But I promise, that if ever you are trapped or in trouble, I will be there for you.”

            Sometimes in life we want to have it our way, but in the end, God will give us what is right and just. The first shall be last and the last shall be first. In God’s kingdom, we are all followers of Christ, who seek grace, who seek hope, and who share in God’s powerful and life-changing love. May we remember that God is there when we are in need, and God’s love and grace stay with us in this life, always.

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/689875916034373

Life Lessons Pt. 6

Forgive or Suffer, Jesus Ain’t Joking—Gen. 50: 15-21; Matt. 18: 21-35

            This week I read an article of the three hardest things to say to someone. They are as follows: 1) I was wrong, and I’m sorry; 2) I forgive you; and 3) Worcestershire Sauce. Well, I didn’t say they were the three hardest things to say for the same reason though! Let’s focus in on that second hard thing to say—“I forgive you.” Forgiveness plays a large role in our faith as Christians. In fact, one might say it is foundational to the work of Christ in our lives. If you want the hefty theological term, I think it’s called unmerited grace. But more simply it means forgiveness that no one has earned.

            Our scriptures for today present both Jesus’s teaching on forgiveness as well as the example of Joseph in truly forgiving his brothers for the crimes they committed against him. These stories and parables are familiar, but they still can be a very hard pill to swallow. Here are three lessons from these familiar stories on forgiveness: first, forgiveness is not earned; second, forgiveness should be abundant; and last, refusing to forgive will hurt you.

            First, forgiveness is not and cannot be earned. We read in the first round of forgiveness to Joseph’s brothers that there was no real apology or repentance. It was simply tears and hugs. Here we see something fuller. They beg Joseph to forgive their sin and throw themselves on his mercies now that their father is dead. They believed that Joseph was as cruel as they were, waiting only till their father was dead to kill them all. But Joseph doesn’t live in bitterness and hatred. He did not have this long-game of murder and revenge planned against his cruel brothers.

            But more importantly, there really was nothing they could really do to earn forgiveness. They offered to be Joseph’s slaves if only he would spare them. The truth is there was no way for them to make it up to Joseph for plotting to kill him then selling him off into child slavery. Hallmark doesn’t make an apology card for something that evil. But Joseph doesn’t want them to suffer, nor does he care anymore about being the best and the one they bow before like he did as a child. Joseph’s response of true forgiveness and love shows just how strongly God dwelt with him and how strongly he desired to follow God.

            Likewise, in the gospel we see a man who owed a debt which could never be repaid. The king had every right to punish this servant for his indebtedness. But the servant begged for forgiveness. He could never pay his debts. He could never make it up to the king. His forgiveness could never and would never be earned. But he received it anyway from a king who was kind and merciful. It’s symbolic of God’s forgiveness to humankind. It’s not our ability to “make it up to God,” but simply God’s love which offers the forgiveness and grace.

            One of the hardest lessons in life is that we will usually have to forgive people who have no way of earning that forgiveness. If someone talks badly about us or to us, hurts us, does something harmful in our lives, there’s no real way to take that back. We want that—we want to hurt to be undone, but it can’t. When we forgive, it has to be like Joseph or the king, and offered to those who can never and will never earn that forgiveness. God’s love and our love is found in forgiveness, not payback from an offending party.

            Second, forgiveness should be abundantly given from us. In the gospel, Peter asks Jesus about forgiveness. He asks Jesus how many times he should forgive, and Peter suggests what he thinks is a big number—7 times. Jesus, however, shocks Peter and the other disciples by saying seventy times seven times. Jesus essentially tells Peter not to be stingy with forgiveness. We should forgive abundantly.

            Similarly, Joseph could easily have accepted the offer his brothers made to be slaves to him and to Egypt. Joseph could have exacted his revenge and punishment on his cruel siblings in this instant with their father dead. But Joseph forgave in abundance, and in fact, he goes way beyond forgiveness. He promises to take care of his brothers and look out for them and their families.

            The reason we should forgive abundantly is that forgiveness is for us. Forgiveness was for Joseph. Forgiveness was for the king. It is never for the person who has done the wrong. Think of this analogy a friend a mentor told me. Let’s say you have a kitchen sink where over and over dirty, messy, and harmful things are dumped into the sink. If you never wipe it clean, the sink will become corroded until it is no longer usable. But if you wipe it clean abundantly, the sink shines like new, and the filth gets thrown into the trash where it belongs.

            Forgiveness doesn’t excuse the guilty. Forgiveness frees you from the burden of the filth they tried to bring into your life. If Joseph never moved on beyond what his brothers did, he would have been too bitter for God to work in him. If everyone acted like the unforgiving servant, the world would be a cruel and miserable place. Forgiveness must be abundant from us, so that life can be abundant for us.

            Last, if we refuse to forgive, it will hurt us. In the gospel of the unforgiving servant, when he refused to extend the same forgiveness he had received, he was punished severely. The king threw him into prison for his unforgiving heart. The gospel describes what he would endure as torture. Jesus follows this parable up in verse 35 with the words, “That’s why my heavenly Father will do if you refuse to forgive your brothers and sisters from your heart.” And there’s a truth to that.

            Consider for a moment how bitter and hard an unforgiving heart can become. Consider how angry and hate-filled an unforgiving person can be. Consider how consumed by the wrong an unforgiving person becomes over time. Perhaps it is not a literal prison, but holding on to bad things and letting them eat at your mind and soul day after day is torture. And that torture is self-inflicted. Forgiveness is not giving a cruel person a pass or ending all accountability. Forgiveness is simply letting go of what bad things do to you.

            Forgiveness is necessary because it allows God to work and turn evil things for good.  Joseph even says this to his brothers in verse 20: “You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good. He brought me to this position so I could save the lives of many people.” We hear the phrase in church that God often works in mysterious ways. But God’s ways aren’t so mysterious because in the end they lead to good things despite all the hard parts in the journey mean people make for us.

            It reminds me of a story from a friend’s father. His father lived in a strange kind of household. The parents were old school hippies from the 1960s and 1970s. Their small home was still painted the wild colors, had peace signs decoratively placed, had a circle of cushions to sit on, and even had the old school beads separating one room from another. His parents, though, as they aged, became very, very set in this rigid hippie mindset. They instilled those values in their son over and over. One day when their son was 17, he came home with a short haircut, fitted pants, and a flyer.

            He told them that he was joining the military and serving his country in Desert Storm. His anti-war parents were furious. This went against everything they’d ever taught him, everything they believed. Enraged they threw him out of the house and never spoke to him again, cutting all ties for his disobedience and violation of their beliefs. He went on to win a purple heart and a medal of valor for saving the lives of 10 fellow soldiers on the battlefield and went on to be a doctor. He was a hero and a lifesaver. Rejected, made homeless by his parents, and cut off from his whole family and life, God nonetheless worked in and through him for something good and amazing. And to his credit, he forgave his parents and cared for them in their old age.

            Forgiveness can never be earned. Forgiveness must be abundant in and from our hearts, and forgiveness protects us from the self-inflicted suffering of bitterness and anger in life. Three of the hardest things to say in life are I’m sorry, I forgive you, and Worcestershire Sauce. But of those three, the most important to say, to live, and to practice is forgiveness, and it must be offered seven times seventy times over in our lives.

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Life Lessons Pt. 5

Sometimes You Must Choose Peace: Psa.119: 33-40; Matt. 18: 15-20

            A friend of mine worked for many years in a rather toxic work environment. She stayed for hopes of promotion, things would get better, the allure of improvement that would never come. But, alas, she finally learned that the only thing she would get from her place of employment was toxic foolishness and a second blood pressure medication. One day she called me fussing about something they had done—ranting, raving, losing her mind about how irritating her supervisor had been—and she said, “You know what, I’m going to give that ‘insert choice words here’ a piece of my mind.” My response was this: my friend, it is better to be employed than to be right. Being right will not pay your bills. Besides, why not leave them once you’ve found somewhere else better to go?

            Sometimes in life, we have to simply choose our peace over the chaos and misery that other people and situations want to bring into our lives, and that can be a hard thing to do. In Matthew’s gospel, we read a somewhat difficult passage. This portion of Matthew’s writing deals with living together as community. Any time you gather a group of people together for long enough there are bound to be squabbles and disagreements. But there also may be an element that is toxic, bent on destruction, cruel, and working to damage the community and livelihood of the faithful in community.

            Matthew offers the following: confront someone (peaceably) about something which has caused you offense and allow them the opportunity to confess and be restored. If they refuse, go again with witnesses in the hopes that they will understand and budge. If that doesn’t work, take the case to the church, and let the church decide. If they refuse to accept the decision of the church, put them out. Now, obviously, for a faith that practices such an expansive welcome and love, this is tough. It is difficult for this to come from Jesus who welcomed the tax collector, the sinner, the unclean, and so on.

            And we have to take a moment and acknowledge that this process has absolutely been abused and over-used by churches. When I was in college, a friend told me of a church that used this process on her. She was in a depression because she has just divorced her abusive husband, and she had not been going out of the house much at all, let alone to church. The elders visited once or twice, not to pastorally care for her, but to chide her for her lack of attendance. It took only a short time for the church to hold a meeting and vote her out of fellowship. They sent the harshly worded letter calling her a wicked, backslidden, sinner home with her 13-year-old daughter who was also told not to come back. I guess the daughter was collateral damage. Churches, sadly, have abused this scripture for a long time.

            So, what does Matthew mean here…why would this even be included? It’s actually used to address a person who is cruel and toxic, using their participation in the church to harm others and the community of faith. For starters, Matthew only intends this to be used for serious, harmful, sins which are unrepentant and disruptive in the church. Think of something like slander, gossip meant to destroy a person, or constantly trying to create chaos in the midst of the work for hope and peace in God’s faithful.

            What Matthew is saying is that by living in community with one another, we are not required to sacrifice our sensitivities to the feelings of others, but instead we are to become more sensitive to how our choices and words affect the peace and walk of faith in other people with us. The only real way to live in a faithful community gathered together in Christ Jesus is to be gentle and sensitive with one another, patient and seeking peace.

            The end goal here is not to put someone out. Matthew is not seeking to push people away or thin the community, but to create a path of powerful restoration and reconciliation. The hope is that when a person hears that their words or actions hurt a fellow believer, they will work hard to be forgiven and change their ways. That way the two who have an issue will find a way to be reconciled as members of the body of Christ. Being a Christian means being a part of community together. Faith is not a solo activity. It’s meant to be lived in community. If you need an example, think of the words of the Lord’s Prayer—Our Father. It’s not, “My Father.” It is “Our Father.”

            This context also gives new meaning to the part that says, “For where two or three gather together as my followers, I am there among them.” That was never meant to mean that if you have just enough show up you can still carry on with church. What Jesus meant was even in a group as small as two or three faithful people together, God is in the midst, and the expectation is that love, peace, and gentleness with God’s people are preserved and lived. Where God is, God’s love and grace should be shown. As a friend of mine posted on Facebook, “It doesn’t matter how many verses of scripture you can quote from memory, if you don’t live by it, all of memorization is worthless.” And that is true. Faith is mean to be lived not memorized and recited.

            But what do we do when there are toxic people in our lives? I’m sure you’ve encountered them. It’s people, maybe even at church, who cross your boundaries, who disrespect you as a person and a person of faith, who find ways to make you feel inferior or inadequate, or who simply take advantage of your attempts to be kind. Either you confront them, and they find the love of Jesus in their hearts, or you put them out of your life. It sounds harsh, but sometimes you must choose your peace, and that means walking away from abuse and toxicity until God can work on that person’s heart.

            Sometimes, though the problem is the collective church. I saw a friend’s online post the other day that said, “This generation is way too comfortable with hell.” And my first thought is this: what has the church as a whole offered that seems better? Consider for millennials and younger from the 40 and down crowd, the church has been petty, politically minded, worldly, self-absorbed, cruel, and sometimes downright hate-filled. I look at news reports of bad actions church have taken around this country and world, and I think it’s no wonder that the church is being abandoned. To many who have sought hope and comfort within a church and faithful community, that church didn’t fight against the gates of hell, it was hell itself. Perhaps that’s because the ones who needed to come in were put out, and the ones who needed to go were kept in.

            If you need statistical proof, the number of pastors who seriously considered resigning rose from 29% in January 2021 to 42% in March of 2022. That’s a 13% jump in a year. Jesus said, where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there with you. We, as followers of Christ, need to remember this in every thought, word, and deed we do to one another in life—Jesus is there.

            Sometimes in life, we must choose peace. There is too much angst in the world with news, politics, surveys, and personal bad news for us to let bad behavior be tolerated in God’s faithful. One of the strongest and most clear points of the epistles is in I John where it tells us that if we do not know love, then we do not know God, for God is love. And it is up to us to practice that love in this world.

            My friend had hoped for a place of wisdom and community to grow as a worker; instead, she found a place of pettiness and toxicity. After a few years, she found a much better job and left. She chose peace. We follow Christ, the Prince of Peace, and Matthew gives us a clear instruction—seek to reconcile, confess, forgive, and restore, but if someone chooses to harm over showing Christ’s love, we must choose our peace in our own walk with God, for God is love.

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Life Lessons Pt. 4

Some Things Impossible by Yourself: Exodus 3: 1-15; Matt. 16: 21-26

            A friend of mine told a little story on her husband the other day. He’s a little bit of a macho, manly-man, or at least in his own mind he is. She quietly calls him “basically helpless” when he’s not listening. They recently bought a new lawn mower which was kind of fancy. He went out and started to use it and yanked the cord. Nothing happened. He yanked it again. Nothing happened. This set off a frenzy of yanking the cord to start the engine to no avail.

            His wife (who had read the instruction manual) asked if he needed help. His angry response was something to the effect of her needing to stay in her lane, and that if he needed help making a meatloaf, he’d ask her. But she should stay out of men’s work. She finally said that she bet him $500 she could start the mower in one go. Bemused he agreed. She walked down, opened a flap on the side and pushed a button, pulled the cord, and it started right up. She looked at her shocked husband and said, “Helps to turn it on first, now give me my money.” There are just some things in life we cannot do ourselves. Moses and Jesus both remind us of this today. We learn three things in the scriptures: give in, take up, and move on.

            First, we must give in. Now this doesn’t come very naturally to us. We’re resourceful, skilled, educated, and all of that. For goodness sakes, we are smart enough to send spacecraft into outer orbit. But Jesus said in Matthew’s gospel, “If any of you want to be my follower, you just give up your own way.” Jesus says we must give in and sacrifice our own way. As one commentary on the scripture notes, “Self-denial is not part of our culture’s image of the ‘good life.’” [1] And yet, Jesus is not calling for misery and suffering. It’s a directional calling to us. Think of it this way, when you merge into a highway, you have to yield to oncoming traffic, or else you face being run down by the speed demons on the highway.

            In the same way, giving in on our way of doing things isn’t admitting defeat or incapability, or even necessarily that we are wrong. It’s directional and for our safety, so that life’s oncoming traffic doesn’t run us over. It’s like listening to the GPS navigation or following the map on the journey. Giving in isn’t defeat—instead it is the wisdom to seek greater resources.

            Moses also needed a sign. Though he was close with God, he was very headstrong about not being the leader God had called him to be. I think that resonates with many folks today. The ones who are called to be great leaders tend to stay quiet, in the background, and shy away from claiming the authority. Moses needed a burning bush. I don’t necessarily blame Moses. He was smart enough to realize this calling was way beyond his capacity. But the same God who spoke from the burning bush never consumed is the same God who said Moses would never be alone or left unable if he yielded himself to God.

            That same God speaks to us—to those who try so hard but never give in, and to those who (like Moses) feel incapable of the calling God has given them. To both groups, God can speak from a burning bush just like God did for Moses. God calls us to give up our own way, for following God is always the better way.

            Next, after we give in, we must take up. Jesus told his disciples in Matthew, “If anyone wants to be my follower, you must give up your own way, [and] take up your cross.” Sometimes, Jesus’s teachings feel a bit like an infomercial. Just when we think it’s enough, we hear, “But wait! There’s more!” I think most of us would have been satisfied with the difficult of giving in on our own way. But then Jesus says, “take up your cross.”

            This is actually the big step. To simply give in and listen to Jesus is accepting his philosophy. To take up our crosses means we believe and proclaim that God has acted decisively and ultimately in Jesus for us and the world. But there’s also a reminder that Jesus says his burden for us is easy. And that’s because Christ bears the worst of it and reminds us that for us there is grace and hope.

            Moses didn’t want to take up his figurative cross.   When God calls Moses to lead the people out of Egypt, Moses says, “Who am I to do this?” Moses had lost his power, his integrity, his influence, everything in Egypt. In taking up his cross, he had to fully and completely rely on God because Moses would be utterly powerless on his own. He protests again and again—that they don’t know God anymore, that he is bad at speaking, that he is bad at leading. But God’s words are pretty definite. In the end, God says, “Do it.”

            Some things are impossible by ourselves. Moses could never have gone back to Egypt without Aaron and God with him. The disciples could never have worked the miracles and shared the gospel without Jesus with them, and the support they had one for another. In our own lives, we need that sense of community and holy support. God gets us through the things that are utterly unbearable to us, and or community of support provides the joy and connection as well as comradery to make the struggle easier.

            And lastly, after we give in on or way and take up the cross, we must move on. Jesus finished up his teaching with this, “If any of you wants to be my follower, you must give up your own way, take up your cross, and follow me.” That follow me is important, and it can mean a lot of things. For Moses, following God meant going back into the dangers of Egypt to rescue his oppressed and suffering people. It also meant taking those people to the Promised Land, where God would give them a home of their own.

            For the disciples it meant following in the work of sharing the good news of Christ’s love, resurrection, and redemption—even if such a calling led them into danger. But what does this mean to us? It’s both personal and global. We must rely on God’s help in our lives for what we face. We can pull that mower chain 100 times, but unless Jesus gives us the right instruction, nothing will start. It means there are things we cannot face alone—major health issues, overwhelming fear, toxic people threatening our peace (and sometimes they’re our own family), and so much else. We must rely on God’s help when we can’t face the situation alone.

            But there’s also a global aspect. What are the burning bushes in our lives? What places of leadership, strength, ministry, and outreach do we hear God calling us to? We often talk ourselves out of a lot—too busy, not experienced enough, too many health issues, just not what I do—but when God calls, the burning bush will never depart. And the truth is, if God has given us a calling, there are people waiting, hoping, and depending on us to say yes just like the disciples did, and just like Moses did when God called.  

           This week while in Boston, I had a conversation with a coworker in the elder and dependent adult abuse field. She said that it had been years, and she was tired and ready to do something new. She noted the bureaucracy, the red tape, the constant training of new faces in different agencies. As we talked, there was a moment of realization, and it comes from the old question we hear so often: “If not us, then who?” Some things are impossible by ourselves. But sometimes, we are called by God, equipped, and encouraged for the task ahead. Trust in God’s wisdom. You don’t have to sit and pull the cord over and over again hoping something will happen in life. God can make it very simple. Give in, take up, and move o

[1] Boring, M. Eugene. “Matthew.” The New Interpreter's Bible: a Commentary in Twelve Volumes, VIII, Abingdon Press, 1994.

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/687671166741034

Life Lessons Pt. 3

Life Lessons 3: It’s Okay to Cry—Gen. 45: 1-15; Romans 11: 1-2, 29-31

            Years ago before mental health struggles were well understood, a man went to his doctor and said he had a severe and terrible depression. He felt incredibly down and miserable, like he was in a hole he could never get out of. He told the doctor all he did was cry and feel sad. The doctor said in return that it was probably just a seasonal issue and would pass. He added, go do some fun things in life. The doctor advised the man to go see this hilarious show to make him laugh. It was a clown show featuring Bumpity the Clown. The doctor said it was the most entertaining, hilarious thing he had seen and was sure to make him laugh and cheer his spirits. The man looked down sadly and said, “But, doctor, I AM Bumpity the Clown.”

            In our current society, we subscribe to this idea that it’s wrong to cry and be seen crying. Emotion can be viewed as dangerous. And I will confess to you, that if someone is sobbing uncontrollably next to me, I’m very likely to whisper, “Stop it, Pleaaaase!” because it’s so uncomfortable. Today, then, as we continue our life lessons, we confront this notion that feeling strong emotions is a dangerous and terrible thing. We look first at the example Joseph gave, then we look at the why, or explanation, in Romans.

            First, we turn our attention to Joseph and his grand revelation to his brothers. Last week we talked about Joseph’s suffering—being sold to slavery by his brothers, prison, isolation—and then his eventual deliverance into this powerful position. Joseph is now faced with a choice, and that choice is found in two emotional approaches—anger or joy. Joseph could have let the anger and bitterness build and fester within him until now he is ready to unleash his fury and kill the brothers who wronged him. But that’s not Joseph’s character.

            Joseph does not blame them or rebuke them. Joseph does not try to make them feel deeply guilty or ashamed of what they did many years ago. Joseph does not demand confession and penance from them, and he acts as though there is no pardon needed to be given at all. Instead, Joseph simply weeps. And he weeps so loudly that they can hear it throughout the entire place where he was. Years of trying to understand, overcome the anger, fear, and vision with God have led Joseph to a place where all he can do is reveal who he is and break down in weeping and sobbing before them.

            His tone then becomes pastoral and comforting to these brothers who, I’m sure, fully expected to be killed in this moment. But Joseph has a very keen understanding that everything which had happened in his life corresponded to God’s purpose here and now for his life. He was trafficked by his brothers, but it was to get him to Egypt and establish his leadership and character. He was imprisoned but it was to develop his character further and get him to Pharaoh. And he was brought to a place of power and restoration to save people from suffering in the midst of the famine.

            And so we see Joseph here, weeping before his brothers as he sees the big picture of what God was doing in and through him. I am sure by now that he can see God was with him in every single moment all the way from the fields of Caanan to the palace of Pharaoh.

            It’s interesting to see that Joseph has a very different view of God than the rest of the Israelites. In most of Genesis, we hear about God’s promises. God makes a promise to Abraham about being the father of many nations. God makes promises to Isaac and Jacob as well. But nothing in Joseph’s story talks about God’s promises. Instead, Joseph understands God through God’s work in Joseph’s own life. For us it’s both. God is with us in and through our lives as the Holy Spirit working in us. And God is with us in the promise of hope eternal.

            Joseph is one of the most relatable figures in Genesis for this very reason. He’s the example to us of one who had great power which could have been used for revenge, setting the score, or giving his brothers exactly what they deserved for their brutality to him. Heaven knows they deserved it—every bit of it. But instead, Joseph sets aside his power for vulnerability. He weeps before them, crosses the barrier between them, and hugs them while continuing to cry. He sacrifices his position to show immense love to those who were unloving, unlovable, and unlovely. It's a master class in reconciling. Somehow Joseph knew their hearts were different, and in a very unbelievable way, he invites them back in and is merciful and gracious to his brothers who intended him harm.

            But that’s how Jesus works. In every human action meant for harm or evil, Jesus always forges a pathway to redemption, if we are willing to walk it. It is both lived in us and a promise to us. In Jesus’s own life, the Pharisees and his opponents meant to destroy him in every way, but Jesus used their meanness for redemption and grace in life. Wouldn’t it be amazing if we all followed that example?

            Imagine if we all looked at the world, the community, the people around us and offered the same level of love and mercy that Joseph offered his brothers or Jesus offered all of us in his death? Imagine if, instead of being toxic and unlovely, humanity was more devoted to being Christ-like with one another. Imagine if we decided that it was okay to cry, to laugh, to share our pain, struggles, and vulnerabilities and people listened with loving hearts and ears instead of using it as a weapon against us?

            Romans talks to us about this reminder that God does not reject people, even if they are not getting along or have done some bad things. God’s gifts and God’s call stay with us always. But in everything, through the grace of Christ, God is merciful. That idea of mercy moves all the way through both of these scriptures. Being mean or vengeful is not a characteristic of strength.  Joseph was an incredibly strong leader. Jesus was a powerhouse of wisdom, grace, and redeeming love. Both were filled with mercy. Both wept. And if Joseph and Jesus could be merciful and weep in life, so can we.

            A teacher wrote a story about his student’s mercy and kindness. One Monday morning, things were a little off in first period. He says that the kids in his second-grade class could tell he wasn’t doing well and having a rough morning. So he explained that his wife’s mother died that weekend, and he was very worried about his wife. The kids all expressed their sadness for the teacher and the class went on as usual. It was tradition that the teacher gave them high fives and fist-bumps as they went on to their second period after his class. One little girl pushed a tiny piece of paper into his hand. She whispered, “It was really expensive when my daddy died last year, and I didn’t want ice cream anyway today.” Inside the teacher’s hand, wadded up in a piece of paper was her 75 cents for ice cream.

            To the people of Christ who know and understand mercy and grace, much mercy and grace is expected. In life, it is hard to do this when we know people deserve what they get, are unkind, cruel, and generally awful. But we are called to love and mercy for the unlovable, the unlovely, and the unloving in life around us.

            All around us there are people who struggle and suffer. There are people who think that hatefulness, unkindness, and meanness is the only way the world works. There are people who feel like no one loves them or cares at all. They need us to follow the example Joseph gave in forgiveness, mercy and love. They need us to live like Jesus and show them Jesus when it’s needed the most. And so, it’s okay to cry and weep, for mercy and love are found in a softened and gentle heart.

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/558670352995565

Life Lessons 2

Life Lessons 2—Walking on Choppy Water: Gen. 37: 13-14, 19-28; Matt. 14: 22-33

            A. A. Milne, the creator of Winnie the Pooh, once wrote a shot dialogue between Pooh and Piglet. It says this:

“Today was a difficult day,” said Pooh. There was a pause. “Do you want to talk about it?” asked Piglet. “No,” said Pooh after a bit, “No, I don’t think I do.” “That’s okay,” said Piglet, and he came and sat beside his friend. “What are you doing?” asked Pooh. “Nothing really,” said Piglet. “Only, I know what difficult days are like. I quite often don’t feel like talking about my difficult days either. But goodness,” continued Piglet,” Difficult days are so much easier when you know you’ve got someone there for you. And I’ll always be her for you, Pooh.” And as Pooh sat there, working through in his head his difficult day, while the solid, reliable Piglet sat next to him quietly, swinging his legs…he thought his best friend had never been more right.

In today’s readings, we encounter two difficult days in the lives of Biblical characters. One suffered a horrendous crime at the hands of his brothers. The other found himself walking on choppy water. Today we’re going to look at some bad news and some good news from each of these scriptures. We’ll look first at the bad news, then the good news that Joseph experienced. Then we will look at the bad news and good news contained in the Gospel lesson. And as we do, I want you to keep in mind those words Piglet said, and instead of a cartoon, image that it is Jesus who says those words to us.

            First, we encounter some bad news in the life of Joseph. This poor child, and make no mistake, he was a child of about 17, was sold into slavery by his brothers. This was actually the good news because at first they had plotted to kill him out of their jealousy and bitterness. They were mad about his fancy coat, his favor with their father, his connection to God, and while they could have celebrated their brother’s good fortune, they chose instead to be overcome with hatred and murderous anger and destroy him.

            My friends, sometimes people in this life will seek to tear you apart because they see your success, your peace, or simply because they cannot stand the depth of wisdom and faith you may have. And sometimes those people will be the very ones closest to you. I read today in the news that Prince William and Harry in England have become so angry with one another they would need professional help to reconcile. It’s gossipy and horrible to dwell on such things, but it happens all the time in almost any relationship. People can sometimes be intentionally destructive, and usually, when they are, it comes from a place of pain or trauma in their own life.

            But there is good news. No amount of anger, rivalry, or bad intentions from other people will overcome God’s goodness. Joseph endured suffering. I cannot imagine the level of his betrayal, pain, and misery as he was forced into servitude in a foreign land, imprisoned, and completely isolated. Yet God had plans for success and good. God had plans for deliverance and restoration. And in every dark day, God was right with Joseph—in the pit, in the slavery, in the prison, and especially in his restoration to power and prominence.

            God is with us the same way, and God calls us to be the Piglets who come and sit with the Poohs in this world. And I mean the Winnie the Poohs, not the other kind of “Poohs” in this world. The other day, I messaged a friend and noted they had been quiet, and that I was worried. He responded, “Yeah, I need a break from people to deal with some things in life.” When people say this, we have a choice. We can chastise for them being silent, needing to just get over it, remind them we have feelings too, or we can sit down and ask, “How can I best support you.”

            God was with Joseph when life and other people left him broken and suffering. God was with Joseph when all of life here on earth seemed to be crushing him, when he was alone, and when he felt most miserable. And God calls us to be near to the broken, the brokenhearted, and the vulnerable as well. The bad news is life and humanity might seek to break you, but you are never alone or abandoned when God is with you.

            The Gospel also gives us bad then good news. The bad news is that life will be stormy and at times, doubt-filled. In our lesson, the disciples are out on the water being tossed by the storm and wind. In the midst of this, Jesus comes toward them walking on the water. Now, let’s correct a notion here. Jesus is not walking on some calm, glassy pool. This is a heavy storm about to sink the disciples’ boat. That is why it is so miraculous to see Jesus walking towards them. Even the boat and multiple grown men can’t handle the storm, but here is Jesus, effortlessly coming towards them. It’s a bit of a representation of life, isn’t it? We feel like the storm is about to knock us down, but Jesus walks on the water towards us.

            I’m reminded of when I took the State Bar to be an attorney. It’s a two-day, grueling mess of an exam. And then in a grand sense of cruelty you take it in July and wait till October to find out if you passed. So, if you fail, you usually fail and get fired in the same couple of hours. I remember that October day waiting to find out. I decided to calm my nerves with a pumpkin spice latte and pumpkin muffin because…well...pumpkin, and it’s the best. I remember being so nervous, and the barista at the coffee shop shrugged and said, “Hey, if Jesus walked on water, you’ll be fine on this.” In my irritation, I thought, I’m not even on a boat, what does that mean? But there’s truth there. It’s good news! We are strengthened and sustained in our storm by the One who walked on water in the midst of that particular storm in Matthew, and indeed, every storm.

            Peter sees this and asks to join Jesus. Filled with faith, he jumps out of the boat filled with faith and excitement. The good news is that, with Jesus, even the disciples could climb out of the boat and walk on water. We, too, can walk on choppy water and stormy seas when we keep our eyes on the Christ, the savior and saving grace in life. Like Peter, we sink when we fall into the trap of small faith, or as Jesus says, “Oh you of little faith!”

            If the bad news is the stormy seas of life, then the good news is that we follow the same Jesus who calmed the wind and wave. We follow the same Jesus who healed the lepers, sick, and suffering. We follow the same Jesus who brought the dead to life. We follow the same Jesus who didn’t pull the thief off the cross, but who promised him a place in paradise. The man still died next to Jesus. But instead of death and criminal, the last words of his life were hope everlasting. Don’t let faith be too little to trust the One who walked on water, and who is with us in every storm of life.

            In all of life, there is good news and bad news. A friend of mine told a story of an 18 year old daughter who went home with great fear and dread. She told her parents that she had good news and bad news. The bad news, she said, was that she was pregnant. The father was a twice divorced biker who was 28 with another kids. He was waiting for his court date on a felony, and she was planning on marrying him before he went to prison. Her parents were sitting there with shock and terror, gasping for any breath left in their lungs. The good news, she said, was that none of that was true, but she got detention for talking during class and needed them to sign off on the note home.

            Don’t let the bad news win out in life. We are going to experience tough days where, like Winnie the Pooh, we sit down in silence because it was a difficult day. But right there with us are the Piglets who sit beside us and say, “It’s okay. I understand.” But also, right there with us in the difficult days is the same Jesus who walked on water. And that’s your good news.

 Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/1580913105770182

Life Lessons 1

Life Lessons 1: Hangry—Isaiah 55: 1-5; Matthew. 14: 13-21

            A few years back my friend and I went on a small road trip to Jacksonville. We wanted to see the beach for a couple of days and take advantage of a long holiday. The road from Macon to there is not all that interesting. You go straight down I-75 and across I-10 to the eastern coast of Florida. It’s easy travel, but long. And as we started down I-10, where I certainly was not speeding (don’t strike me, Lord), my friend started to get very irritable. I finally asked what was wrong, and she said, “I’m hangry. And we have about 15 minutes to get food before I become a completely different person capable of a number of felonies.” You better believe I stopped at the next gas station with “great haste.”

            If you’re not familiar with the term “hangry” it’s a mixture of hungry and angry used to describe someone who is uncharacteristically hateful because they need some food, and need it fast. I think this may have been the disciples fear when they come to Jesus and say that he needs to send the crowd away to buy food because it is late. Hangry people don’t want to listen to sermons even if it is Jesus preaching them. That’s why we have fellowship time BEFORE church here. Now, there are three things we can learn from what happens next: first, something miraculous occurred; second, that something was human needs being met; and third, God was the source and the disciples were the resource. 

            First, something miraculous occurred in Matthew 14. Scholars have debated for years how exactly this feeding of the multitudes happened. It is the only miracle recorded in all four gospels. There is also agreement across the theological spectrum that something miraculous occurred. The problem is there is disagreement on how. The more idealistic will say that Jesus miraculously made the food never run out. The realists will say that Jesus inspired the multitude to share all that they had to make sure all were fed. I don’t particularly care how you explain the how because what is important is that something miraculous happened that day.

            It’s important because, while we all may enjoy magic tricks, we need faith’s miracles. For people who easily doubt, question, and worry, these reminders help ground us in real power God has. For someone who is physically hungry, food is a miraculous cure. For someone tired, grumpy, and whose face doesn’t fit right in the morning, coffee is an amazing cure. And for someone who is struggling with God’s call, next steps, or a difficult journey, hangry in spirit, the bread of life is a miraculous thing.

            In Mark Jesus teaches, here he is healing the sick. Jesus spends his time in this miracle story feeding the people spiritually. He was exhausted to begin with and went off by himself to be alone. What’s interesting to note is this come right after his cousin, John the Baptist, is executed. Jesus is grieving, hurting, tired, and trying to be alone. But his ministry follows him. His calling searches him out and goes to meet him. And here’s the important part—the first miracle is that Jesus finds compassion for these people in their messy and unruly state even as they interrupt his “me time” and while he is still grieving his cousin.

            The second miracle is that Jesus not only fed those people spiritually with love and healing he also fed them physically. Jesus took care of them in every way. I would submit to you two miracles happened that day, and they are rooted in compassion followed by care.

            And you can see a hint of what happened. Because something miraculous occurred, human needs were met. As one scholar notes, it’s a very concrete and fully developed picture of human need being met. Here is where many churches and ministries tend to struggle. They will preach at people, but not feed them, help them, encourage them, and make sure they are okay. On the other side, many places give a person a plate of food, and then send them on their way. You cannot minister to someone if you don’t sit down and talk to them. You cannot feed them with bread alone—they need the bread of life as well. But you also can’t send them away hungry and suffering. Hangry people need food and faith.

            That’s one of the most beautiful things of the gospel stories. Everyone who met Jesus had their needs met and their souls filled with God’s goodness. The amazing author, Maya Angelou, once said, “People will forget what you said. People will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This is the problem we have today. Faith is not meeting human needs. The church is too tired to minister with strength and power. Ministers are too crushed or fearful to speak prophetically and pastorally. People feel that the Christian churches lack authenticity.

            But people are still hangry for faith, or as Jesus calls it…hungering and thirsting for righteousness. Yet the collective church and ministry is too weary and too focused on simply surviving to hope for miracles which meet the hangry needs of humanity. We need to hope for miracles. We need faith to meet human need.

            Lastly, what we learn here is that the source of this miraculous event is God, and the resource was the disciples. God is where the miracle of the feeding of the multitude came from. But it was the disciples who were the resource and made sure the blessing met the need.

I’m going to take a moment to brag. Now I’ve been told not to talk about my mom in sermons, so this story is DEFINITELY not about my mother. But let’s say someone’s mother delivered meals to homebound people for the local charity called Christ’s Hands for many years. In doing so, some folks wanted to just grab the food and say “thanks,” some wanted to have no interaction at all, but some needed a person to talk to. This person’s mom would spend as much time as possible during the meal delivery talking to and listening to those people. You see human need must be met both by feeding the hungry and by ministering to their spirit. We become the resource to share and serve God’s mission and blessings here on earth.

That can be a hard task. We’re easily distracted and self-focused much of the time trying to survive the day in and day out of life on earth. But we look again at Jesus who was grieving a hideous injustice which caused the death of his cousin; Jesus, who was likely fleeing to the outer country to escape Herod’s sphere of power; Jesus who just wanted a little time to rest and be away from it all. The crowds, however, followed, hangry, needy, sad, and pitiful. In the end, Jesus was filled with compassion for them. So, he healed the people, ministered to them, and fed them in a miraculous way. I think this is the example we need to understand Galatians 6:9, “Let us not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time, we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

I guarantee we will be weary, hangry, irritable, tired, and fed up at times. My friend got so hangry on our trip that I really thought she was going to toss me out of the car window. But there’s a difference in simply being weary and in being weary at doing good. Don’t get them confused. We overcome the weariness, the hangry, when we remember that we need miracles, and God will provide. We overcome weariness and hangry when we have the hope and strength to meet human needs with heavenly blessings. And we overcome the weariness and hangry when we remember that we are the resource God uses to match holy blessings with human needs. So when you are hangry, tap into God’s blessings and miracles, which nourish our souls and can meet the needs of this world. May God revive and strengthen us again.

            Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/831635724837604

Lessons in Grace (Final)

Grace (Final): Holds us in God’s Love—Psa. 119: 129-136; Rom. 8: 31-39

            A lot of folks think that the worst thing possible in life is when calamity and catastrophe strike us. We seem to think it’s the big trials that will be our undoing. But a wise old friend told me a different story once. He said we can mentally adjust to something big and scary to prepare ourselves. It’s when we’re inundated with everyday irritations that we become unable to cope. I think there’s a bit of truth to that. For me, the past few months, nothing major has stretched my sanity. It’s the repeated small things: a couple of weeks in a boot, strep throat, mono, being sick on vacation, having an allergic reaction last week and breaking out in hives that won’t go away. Another friend calls it death by a thousand cuts.

            I see the same with you. Many of you face a surgery or something life-altering with this strength and resignation, but the daily things—illnesses with no answer, dealing with aging, mental health stability, back pain, grief, cognitive issues, all of these daily irritations that we live with, be they small or pretty substantial, really, really try our spiritual strength more than anything else. Now in those daily, ongoing irritations, we have a temptation, and that is to give in and believe that God no longer loves us because of the trials we endure. Paul confronts this head on and says that it’s simply not true. Three takeaways from today’s scripture: calamity and suffering do not indicate God’s love and favor or lack thereof, nothing separates us from God’s love, and we wait, but not as a people without hope and promise.

            First, Paul tells us that calamity, suffering, and trials in this life have no bearing on whether God loves us or not. Verses 35 and 37 contain the reminder: “Does it mean he no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity, or are persecuted, or hungry, or destitute, or in danger, or threatened with death? No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us.” Make no mistake. Paul endured all of this. His faith journey was, at times, miserable. But for Paul and many other early Christians, the true power of faith was found in struggle and resistance.

            When the early disciples fought against oppression, poverty, suffering, persecution, pain, and sickness, they felt the closest to living Christ’s mission. Comfort and religious freedom are very familiar to our modern age and modern church, but they would have been very strange concepts to the early church. That is because the early church looked to this world as a place to fervently share God’s love and faithful welcome, which included doing everything possible to make life better here on earth. And they looked forward in hope to a heavenly home where God’s peace, justice, and grace will reign.

            When we are pushed to endure struggle here on earth, we must remember the trials of Jesus. Here was a savior beaten, broken, humiliated, wounded, and murdered. And that same savior, so well-acquainted with suffering, said to us, “I go to prepare a place for you.” Trials on earth do not mean that God has abandoned you. They are simply trials that we must deal with living here. Part of living in a community of faith should challenge us to ask, “How are we working to make those trials easier with the gifts God has given us?” God’s love endures forever even when we must endure through trial here on earth.

            Next, Paul tells us that nothing separates us from the love of God. Verse 38 is one of those famous verses in the Bible that many folks know well. It says, “And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love.” And verse 39 adds a bit to it, “Nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

            A friend and fellow pastor likes to use the phrase, “God loves you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” I remember a story I read once about nothing separating us from God’s love. The writer said this:

I tried once to walk away from God. I was so mad at all the things which had gone wrong, and how I felt God should have fixed it. I was done and ready to give up on the whole idea. But then I walked outside and saw my favorite flower blooming. I turned the radio on, and I heard the song, “Jesus loves me, this I know.” I walked to the library and went to my favorite study desk and there was an old Bible turned to Romans 8. The words leapt out to me, “Nothing can separate us from God’s love.” Everywhere I went, God reminded me of this, and all I could do was sit down and weep with joy.

I like how the hymn “Near the Cross” says it to us. You might miss the subtlety. In the first verse the writer prays—Jesus, keep me near the cross. But by the final verse, the writer fully realizes the power, “Near the cross I’ll watch and wait, hoping, trusting ever.”

            I don’t think there’s an adequate way for me to tell just how powerful those words are—that nothing can separate us from the love of God. For centuries, churches, institutions, and places of power have tried to make caveats, separations, qualifications, footnotes, and explanations that water down the real power of what Paul is saying. Yet he is unambiguous and perfectly clear in what he says. Nothing, and he means nothing, can ever separate us from the love of God, end of sentence. 

            So, what do we do with this information? Ah, now comes the harder part. We wait. The Bible is filled with that instruction—wait on the Lord. Verse 34 has a bit of wisdom for us on this. We are told that Christ was raised to life and is sitting at a place of honor at God’s right hand, pleading for us. Here, I think pleading is best translated or explained as praying. I know it might be a bit of an unusual idea to think of Jesus as praying for us. But consider how many times in the Gospels Jesus himself prayed. It’s a petition, a plea, a call to us as Christians in this prayer.

            It’s also a reminder that we wait, but we wait as a people who have hope and promise. We have the hope that God’s love with always hold us in this life. And we wait with promise that Jesus meant it when he said he was going to prepare a place for us. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Waiting is hard for us. Stopped traffic on the highway will undo any sense of sanity the collective drivers had. A line at the Kroger gas station, and some folks will drive two miles up the street to not wait for that discount. People will go without caffeine when the line at Starbucks is too long, and sacrificing caffeine is well beyond my understanding.

            But waiting is different when it is infused with hope and promise. You’re not just waiting as your patience and sanity slowly seep away. You’re waiting for something with guidance. Hope guides us and God’s promises sustains us. Both are found in God’s love for us. And as Paul says, nothing can separate us from that love of God. So, hope and promise also stay with us.

            I used to wonder how a person would survive the big changes in life. Hard times, trials, and life-changing events will come. But as I get older, I realize we find a resignation for facing such things. It’s all unexpected daily problems that we can’t control, that seem to not let up, and drive us up the wall that make us feel like there’s no grace left in life. But Paul quashes that idea completely in this chapter of Romans. Trials, struggles, and suffering have no say on whether God loves us or not. God absolutely, 100%, without a doubt loves us, and nothing can separate us from the love of God. It’s a bold statement then and now. It’s even bolder to live it.

            We live it when we wait for God, filled with hope, and remembering the promise that God’s love endures forever. But the waiting is hard, and sometimes, God feels distant while life feels overwhelming. In those times and in all times, may we remember Paul’s words and know that grace holds us in God’s love. Period.  

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/1462156451185995            

Lessons in Grace Pt. 4

Grace 4: Grace Looks Forward—Gen. 41: 17-36; Rom. 8: 19-25

            The other day I was watching a show on food history from the Depression and World War II Era. They were talking about how people learned to make something out of nothing in so many different ways. For example, there was a recipe for meatloaf. Now, because food was rationed, the family could only get ¼ pound of meat. They interviewed this elderly woman who had invented many of these “desperation recipes.” She took that one-quarter of ground beef and added some potatoes, vegetables from the garden, bread, rice, and the Lord only knows what else, and turned it into a whole meatloaf which fed a family of 6.

            Two things stuck out. First, I think Jesus must have worked with a Southern grandma when he fed 5,000 off of some fish and bread. Second, the elderly lady talked a lot about looking forward. She said you really had only a couple of choices—you looked around and got as depressed as the economy or you looked forward to when times would be good again and made the best of what you had. There’s a resounding truth there. God walks with us through years of fullness and years of struggle, but in all seasons, God calls us, in grace, to look forward to where we are called to go. Three things stand out from our scripture: grace plans ahead, grace doesn’t stop when times are tough, and grace looks towards tomorrow with hope and not despair.

            First, grace plans ahead. In our Genesis reading, we see the story of Joseph where he interprets the dream of Pharaoh. The leader of Egypt sees seven strong cows followed by seven skinny cows which eat the strong ones and never gain weight. The same is true for grain. Joseph is then brought up out of prison where he has sat for years because Pharaoh needs God’s wisdom instead of the failures of his sorcerers. And Joseph gives an answer. There will be seven strong years of harvest followed by seven lean years, so prepare for the lean years. The moral was for Egypt to plan ahead for years of famine.

            I think this is a good metaphor for the state of the church right now. We’ve seen an ebb and flow of church strength over the years. Every so often there are times church attendance and giving boom. Then there are times when everything falls off. I did a little research on historical church membership across the United States. As one might expect, the 1930s to 1960s saw the highest rate of church membership in the US hovering at 60 to 70%. But if we travel back in time, in 1776 roughly 17% of the populace maintained a church membership.[1]

            Just as there are high times and low times in the economy, the same is true in lives of faith and the practice of faith. For example, this year, Georgia’s peach harvest died out, and the peaches had to be sought out from elsewhere, and last year we had peaches galore. When we see times of scarcity with faith and the church, it’s not a time for despair; instead, it’s an opportunity to plan ahead and prepare for the lean years. It’s also the same in our lives. We spend all our youth, middle age, and moving into elder years learning and growing in faith for when we need it most. We store up the wisdom and faith for when we encounter the crises of life. If we don’t tap into those storehouses of grace, we will be utterly helpless when we come to a tough part of life’s adventure.

            But even as we plan ahead, grace doesn’t stop with tough times. Joseph not only interpreted the dream for Pharaoh, he also provided the solution. He advised Pharaoh to find a smart person and put that person in charge of saving up in the good years to prepare for the famine years. The rest of the story, as you may know, is that Joseph becomes this powerful leader he is recommending. Now I have a friend who says that Pharaoh tells his dreams and gets them interpreted. I tell my dreams, and my trusted friends get the holy water because they think I’m crazy.

            This wasn’t just a dream Pharaoh had. It was a vision from God. Sometimes when we face the famine, God will speak and give us wisdom and insight—guiding us along. And sometimes, we have to tap into our spiritual storehouses. The same is true in life. If my laptop breaks, I have to pray there’s enough in savings to buy a new one. If the church is experiencing a season of struggle, they will hopefully have an endowment to bear them through.

            The good news of the story is that the famine was seven years and not for all of time. When we experience loss, struggle, the famine of life, it often feels like it takes over and becomes the never-ending story. But there’s a whole history where God was with us, and there’s a future where the famine will be over. In every struggle, every famine, every trial, God makes a way through. The journey may be hard. The endurance may wear us to the very core, but God makes a way in the desolate places for hope and grace to spring forth. It takes a wilderness to get to the Promised Land.

            And lastly, in thinking on that Promised Land, grace will look forward with hope and never despair. In Romans 8, Paul writes, “But with eager hope, the creation looks forward to the day when it will join God’s children in glorious freedom from death and decay.” One of the most beautiful parts of the Christian faith is this idea that everything is rooted in hope. Despite the wildernesses, the famines, the down times, the rough places, we continue to look forward with hope.

            Paul had a very keen sense of this hope. His life as an evangelist was, at times, horrendous with imprisonment, beatings, rejection, hard labor, poverty. But in every dark place he continued to believe that to live here gives glory to Christ and in death we gain the heavenly reward we’ve waited for. He writes these very words of encouragement to the Romans, saying, “We were given this hope when we were saved,” then he reminds them to wait patiently and confidently for that holy reward.

            But there’s also a gentle reminder that hope isn’t just about waiting for Heaven. I read a quote one of my minister friends posted the other day. It said, “I’m not a Christian just because I want the reward of Heaven. I’m not a Christian just to be running from Hell. I’m a Christian because the character of Jesus Christ is so compelling to me that I want to spend my life chasing it, embodying it, and sharing it every day.” Hope doesn’t present itself as a ticket to Magic Kingdom. Hope is a way of life that has us living our lives in the way Christ would live because we are baptized in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as a proclamation and covenant to live this faith we believe in this world every day. When we live our lives for Christ, that is hope in this world.

            In the 1940s, this church was filled to capacity at a Sunday night service. They took in enough offering to pay off the building note in just a few years. It’s easy to look back and become convinced that the famine and lean years have overtaken us. But just as I watched that elderly lady take a quarter pound of beef and feed a whole family, there is always a reason to look forward with hope. We have the ability to live stream services where all can watch. We have FaceTime on phones so that in seconds we can see and encourage family members thousands of miles away. I can text to find out updates on folks seconds after a doctor visit or emergency. Even in life’s famines there are opportunities for amazing ways of bringing hope and bright, Christ-filled future.

            Sometimes we get stuck dreading what tomorrow might bring. But faith always looks forward to where God is going to take us next. The road might not be easy, but God is with us. It’s like the words of our last hymn say, “Because he lives, I can face tomorrow. Because he lives, all fear is gone, because I know he holds the future, and life is worth the living, just because he lives.” Amen, and amen.

[1] Morin, Richard. “The Way We Weren’t: Religion in Colonial America,” Washington Post., 1995.

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/836733401357798