Letters from Paul, What the Church Needs to Know Pt. 1

Letters from Paul: Believe and Share—Romans 10: 1-15; John 20: 19-31

            This week we begin a new series through the Easter Season. We will be looking at the letters from Paul and what they are saying to the church today. Today we start in Paul’s strongest work on what it means to believe in Jesus. Let’s start with a story. A 7-year-old kid was at the fair with his parents back in October, and the whole family decided to get some ice cream…well really it was his dad who was a great lover of all things ice cream. Now his dad subscribed to the Nike brand theory of accomplishing things in life, so his favorite thing to say was, “Just do it!” He hands the kid his ice cream cone, and the kid just looks at it. He takes a couple of licks and looks at it again.

            Somewhat annoyed that his kid won’t just dive into the ice cream like he did, the dad looks at him and says, “Just eat it. Just do it.” But the little boy’s teeth hurt like crazy every time the ice cream touches them. And the milk in it hurt his tummy, and he doesn’t know why or how to say this to his parents. So, in pain, and knowing a bathroom trip will soon be on the horizon, he starts eating the ice cream just like he was told.

            For years, the church has proclaimed, “Just believe!” and has insisted that faith is so very simple because you simply believe in Jesus, and you’re done. In fact, Paul himself writes, “If you openly declare that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is by believing in your heart that you are made right with God, and it is by openly declaring your faith that you are saved.” And yet I think Paul appreciates the simplicity of SAYING “just believe” while still accounting for the complexity of actually DOING it. If belief were so very simple in life, Romans would start with, “Greetings, from Paul to the church at Rome. Chapter One: Just believe. Yours Truly, Paul.”

But instead, Chapter 10 is 21 verses and Romans contains 16 very long chapters devoted to an entire legal-theological dissertation on what, exactly, it means to just believe. These struggles, though, are not new to the modern era. People in Jesus’s days were just as skeptical as the Tesla driver of today. Doubting Thomas’s story is a clear example of that. We always go from the high point of Easter and immediately wrestle with Thomas and his doubts the very next week. Thomas is a story for the skeptic’s mind.

Thomas was not present when Jesus first appeared and saw the other disciples. And because of his absence of body, Thomas had an absence of belief. We give Thomas a lot of grief. Thomas lacked faith, had no ability to believe, was a bad disciple, should have known better. In some instances, he’s bashed almost as low as Judas for betraying Jesus. His words are often portrayed as a second betrayal. But that’s not what he said or intended. He wanted to believe. He wanted to see Jesus. He wanted to experience the risen Christ, see the wounds, and have the same exact experience the other disciples already had. Maybe we should call him “Seeking Thomas” because he sought to see and experience Christ for himself.

How do we do the same today? What Paul writes over and over is this need to share the stories of faith and belief…to share stories of experiencing Christ. Evangelism is not a grand mystery. It’s simply telling a story of faith. John’s Gospel lays the groundwork: Blessed are those who believe without actually seeing Jesus like Thomas did. But John goes a step further when he addresses the disciples seeing Jesus do miraculous things. He adds, “But these are written so that you may continue to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing in him you will have life by the power of his name.” For him, these stories are evidence of Jesus’s work.

Paul took that idea and ran with it to the ends of the earth. Paul calls it a message in verse 8 and adds, “And that message is the very message about faith that we preach.” Note that is a collective “we.” But then he adds this little step by step analysis: “But how can they call on him to save them unless they believe in him? And how can they believe in him if they have never heard about him? And how can they hear about him unless someone tells them? And how will anyone go and tell them without being sent?” I’m going to end this the way Paul wanted…Consider yourselves sent.

The New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary says it thusly, “The resurrection story provides a fresh vantage point from which the church can preach and teach the story of its own beginning…to celebrate the resurrection…is also to celebrate the beginnings of the church’s mission in the world,” according to John’s Gospel.[1] That begs the question of us—who have you told? The way the world experiences Christ, understands how to believe, and finds the peace, hope, and love in a life devoted to following Christ is through our own stories of faith and hope. Whom have you told?

Do you tell the hurting friend that Christ loves them no matter what? Do you tell lonely that they’re never alone because you’ve felt God’s power and presence with you in life? Do you tell the broken and the outcast that when you felt left in the dark and cold, Jesus brought you into the light just like the Samaritans who were hated in olden times? Do you tell of when you were suffering how you sang an old hymn and the words, “Then sings my soul, my savior God to thee, how great thou art!” reminded you that God can handle anything in life.

Whom have you told a story of your faith to? That’s how faith and belief were designed to grow. Every time folks found themselves a bit faithless, there was a narrative of “do you remember when God” and a reminder of what God had done for them. For those whose faith is struggling, those memories of God’s provision, guidance, and deliverance serve to shore up and strengthen our faith and reliance when times are hard. For those who are still seeking, our stories of faith can create the evidence for belief.

I believe at some point or another we all go through a time when we want to change the world, and we have these grandiose ideas that we will do just exactly this. Then by 35 you realize that getting up at 6 AM when the alarm goes off is hard enough, let alone changing the world. But we can actually make a difference just like Jesus did in the world in which he lived.

Stand up and tell your story of faith, hope, and love. Don’t be afraid to be present with someone who is hurting. Don’t be worried to challenge and encourage someone who feels lost. Don’t be too shy to confront someone filled with hatred to tell a story of love. Changing the world, or at least the world around us, begins with telling a story of how God can make all things new, then engaging in the work to make that story of faith a reality of God’s kingdom.

Sometimes faith and belief will be hard. It might hurt like when ice cream touches very sensitive teeth. It may be a slow process like when dairy hits the tummy. Or we may just have the ability to jump in and be filled with the Spirit of God at times. Just do it. But at the heart of faith and especially keeping the faith, and at the heart of belief for those who are seeking like Thomas is telling the story.

When we hear of the times that Christ was the solid rock in our lives, when we tell how we have also been at our wits end of trust and hope, but found a strong friend in Christ, we can stand firm. But we can inspire others to a faith which does change the world for love, for hope, and for the wide welcome found in Christ.

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/1336978186972120

[1] O’Day, Gail R., “The Gospel of John,” NIB 2015 rev.

Easter 2024

But What Has God Done Lately? Isaiah 25: 6-9; Mark 16: 1-7

            While in high school, I had the opportunity to attend a speaking course as part of a summer program. Most of the courses were taught by college professors who came to do this summer program with rising juniors. One of the first things we learned about in speaking is that your presentation must have a WIIFM (spelled out). And that stands for, “What’s in it for me?” Any time you have an audience sitting and listening, they want to know why they are there and what’s supposed to benefit them from this speech.

            Unfortunately, one kid was out that day, and nobody realized it. The teacher asked him what his “WIIFM” was, and he looked confused. He quietly replied, “Nothing that I can tell.” At this we were all lost. She asked him again, “What’s your WIIFM?” And he said, “I’m not getting a whiff of anything…what am I supposed to smell?” And at that, the class was done.

            We seem to apply that same practice to all of life. It’s a clear theme in throughout the Bible. How many times did the Israelites receive the lecture, “Have you forgotten what I the Lord have done for you…” wherever they were in the struggle. We have become a people of immediate satisfaction and gratification. If you don’t believe me, watch someone who waits too long in the Chik-fil-a drive through. It’s not just the chicken that gets spicy.

            But that creates another problem somewhat specific to Easter and Christmas. Jesus comes out of the tomb the exact same way, in the exact same story every single year. There is no surprise ending to this. And after some time, we let ourselves get far less enthusiastic about this than we should be. That’s why this year I wanted you to write what God has done for you lately, so I could share them. Jesus is risen, Hallelujah! But what’s in it for us as the saying goes:

·      As we all know, God is always present. However, lately, God has sent me answers to questions about dealing with issues with a family member who cannot speak for themselves. God listens and shows me the way. God always listens, and if you take the time, you will hear what God wants you to do; even if it is not what you wanted to do. Prayers are powerful.

·      God is still keeping me afloat.

·      God is giving me the strength to not grow weary in trying to do good as it says in Galatians 6:9.

·      God has taken me out of my comfort zone and taught me it’s okay to ask for and accept help in life.

·      God has allowed me to move to a more affordable place, and to meet more people willing to help the homeless and persons less fortunate than themselves.

·      God has made it possible for me to be at church, and God has given me a new heating and a/c unit.

·      God gives me new insights DAILY into his love and how to let God lead me through all that life puts on me.

·      God has healed me of Covid, protects me every day when driving and traveling. God keeps me healthy and kept me from having a heart attack this past year. God blesses me with good friends. God has done so much for me, and I talk to God and praise God every day, every single day. God is good.

·      God has grown my faith as my earthy body ages. I do not worry as worry is a lack of faith. God is in charge, and I am ready and willing to follow his plan for me. I no longer fear death and look forward to spending eternity with God when he is ready for me.

·      What has God done for me lately? This is dangerous territory. I’m afraid I will leave something out. God sprinkles us every day with blessings, and my best response is to pay attention and try to keep up. Here are examples: continued good health despite years of long, unrelenting work days, a lovely safe place to live, friends old and new, work with so many opportunities including photography and at an unexpected but perfect time, family which God blesses and keeps them safe. Yes. God has done an amazing quantity of things for me lately.

Over and over you shared stories of God at work in your lives. And I know, I know for some of you the past year or few years have been hard, but these words speak to the work of faith to create hope and love in often dark situations. That is what the work of Christ’s death, burial, and resurrection did. It brought us hope and the chance to be close enough to God that we can celebrate what good things God has done in our lives.

            Too often we look at Easter Sunday as the end of this story. Or sometimes it’s the only story we hear given how often we go to church. I remember a comic where one couple leaving the church shakes hands with the pastor and says, “You’re stuck in a rut. Every time we come you preach on the resurrection. Same scripture and everything!” For us, the truth is that the story doesn’t end at the empty tomb. That’s where it begins. That work of hope and life starts with a Savior who lives, loves, and gives us eternal hope, and then we go from this place to carry on Christ’s mission of healing, teaching hope, showing love, and sharing with those in need.

            The empty tomb is not the check-in plan for Heaven, it’s an invitation to a way of life that follows in Christ’s love. Early on, before the name “Christian” had become common, followers of Christ were called “The Way.” That speaks to how we are to live in this world. If we are not agents of healing and love, then who will be? Faith is not a political movement, a system of government, the general social values for proper living. Instead, it is our life and our way of living in this world. And we must always take care to remember that faith is not that thing we do, but the way that we live.

            Isaiah speaks words that offer this life of hope to us. The prophet writes, “There he will remove the cloud of gloom, the shadow of death that hangs over the earth. He will swallow up death forever! The Sovereign Lord will wipe away all tears.” That’s the hope, then Isaiah gives the call: “In that day the people will proclaim, ‘This is our God! We trusted in him, and he saved us! This is the Lord, in whom we trusted. Let us rejoice in the salvation he brings!’” It’s a pretty simple call, really. Go and proclaim. When the women encountered the angel at the tomb, the angel’s first words were, “Go and tell.”

            I was working in the office the other day, and the wind picked up a bit as the sun was shining down. The cherry tree out front caught the wind, and all the blossoms started blowing around like some kind of dance. And for a few moments, I sat back from the laptop and watched it.

            Remember that in this life, the empty tomb, that hope of life is the starting point. We will have ups and downs for sure. We are promised Christ with us, not that we won’t face trouble like everybody else. But every time life gets a bit hard, go back and look at the empty tomb. Go back to the beginning and remember that faith is a story of hope, and not just hope for a little here and there, hope for eternity. I think if you come back and ask what the WIIFM of our faith is, one could say it is twofold. Our belief and faith give us hope in this life and beyond life. But we also have the opportunity and invitation to change the world with the unconditional, all-expansive, never-ending love of Christ. And that, my friends, is what God has done for us lately. May we continue to carry that story of love and hope.

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/389103550628217

Palm Sunday 2024

Faithful Answers: Bad Things Coming—Isaiah 50: 4-9; Mark 11: 1-11

            Several years ago, while I was still working as a lawyer in Macon, I was headed into the Municipal Courtroom with my co-counsel. It was raining hard that day, and the morning had been awful. It was like all the evil portents were lining up to warn me at once. As I stepped down the stairs and into that historic courtroom and hallway, my shoe slid on the old tile like I was on smooth ice. I slid into a full front to back split, ripping my pants in the process. I was, thankfully, not injured. But all I remember was my co-counsel covering her face and yelling, “Bad things are happening; bad things are happening!”

            It does not always take a fortune teller or signs in the sky to tell us when bad things may be coming our way. Every student in school knows what’s coming when he or she wakes up the morning of the test and hasn’t studied. Every adult knows what’s going to happen if they’re going for blood work at the doctor and ate 2 pieces of tres leches cake and a block of cheese the day before. Some troubles are a bit predictable. Others really aren’t. But the faithful answer to both surprise and predictable trouble is always looking beyond the bad thing happening.

            The Triumphant Entry is always one of the hardest parts of the gospel narrative for me. There are so many aspects of it which are intriguing. Why did they love Jesus in Bethany and Bethphage but turn on him in Jerusalem? How did all this happen with taking the donkey, and why were folks so okay with it basically being stolen? Who were these people that cheered for Jesus then called for him to die? What can we learn from the fact that Jesus’s entry challenged and mimicked the Roman pageantry and seemed like an actual protest to the leaders? The nuances of this gospel story are indeed many.

            But it’s the personal aspect that hits home the most. Jesus looked at a crowd of people who praised him, and said, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessings on the coming Kingdom of our ancestor David! Praise God in the highest heaven!” Jesus processes all they to the Temple among this adoring throng of people. And yet, in his heart, he knew they would turn on him in a few short days. They would call for him to be executed by the state as an innocent man. And one of those closest to him, Judas, would be the betrayer, selling Jesus out for a paltry sum of money. For Jesus, this wasn’t a celebration, it was a funeral march.

            The sitting and knowing that such things were coming had to be overwhelming for Jesus. At the end of the day, he turns and goes back to Bethany. The celebration ends, and he goes back to where he is staying. The excitement, the thrill, whatever bit of magic this should have held for Jesus along with his disciples and followers, it was all hollow and empty. Jesus knew that behind it all, bad things were coming and lurking in the shadows. It was like being haunted by the future.

            As people of God, we live too much in that space of shadows, haunting, and fear about the bad things which may come. I remember this older woman at a church I worked at. She always had this look of worry and dread on her face. Finally, I asked her one day what she was so worried about. She replied, “I don’t know…it’s not happened yet, but it’s coming…I just know it.” What a miserable and unfaithful place that is to stay our whole lives!

            I heard an old preacher who was very anti-seminary once say that sometimes we educate our “young-uns” (as he called them) right out of their salvation. Now I don’t believe that, but I think we can talk ourselves out of hope. I believe we can overthink ourselves out of joy. And I believe we can find ourselves too self-conscious to love. In Isaiah we are told, “Morning by morning [God] awakens me to understand [God’s] will…Because the Sovereign Lord helps me, I will not be disgraced.” Bad things may come our way, but God’s Word is steadfast in peace, in love, and in “strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,” as the hymn says.

            So, what is the faithful answer? We must look through the bad things which happen. Jesus rode into Jerusalem with the shadow of a cross looming on the horizon for him. He came to town knowing that pain, abandonment, and suffering awaited him. He was fully aware and awake to how bad this journey would be. And yet he knew there was a purpose. For in death, there is life. Suffering gives way to mercy. The dark night gives way to tomorrow’s bright hope. And all that Jesus endured was a way to love and redemption for us. A friend of mine used to say, “Don’t look for meaning or purpose in your struggles and rough places. You have to make meaning and purpose in the midst of it, and cling to God to help you and carry you through.”

            I think sometimes, when we hear God’s strength will bear us through, we think that God is going to float us past the struggle on a little cloud, like Bob Ross might have painted years ago. But the truth is God’s strength is more like the rope, the boots, and ax pick used to climb the sheer side of a mountain. We still have to summon up our strength and fortitude to do it, but God’s strength gives us the tools we need to make it through the fight.

            One of the more traumatic areas of my life was when my long-time mentor and organ teacher, Vickie passed away in 2020. She had been diagnosed with cancer, but she did not fully reveal the truth to her friends and family, choosing instead to say home and not seek treatment. She told us she had been sick with some issues, but the whole truth was never revealed. At over 75 years of age, that was her right as hard a pill as it was to swallow.

            But in not telling anyone, she did not get the help she needed to support herself, and she was removed from a truly horrible situation of self-neglect at her house to go to the hospital. And I mean a truly horrible. We could all see bad things were coming as she casually mentioned that she was a bit sick or that the house was in need of a good cleaning, but we didn’t realize the magnitude at all.

            When she died, there was no shortage of anger…at her, at God, and probably at some point or another at one another who all failed to realize what was going on, or who were convinced to keep it secret that she “wasn’t feeling well.” And in those moments of asking why to God, asking how God could get this so wrong, asking how this could happen in a world where one of her closest friends is an expert in elder law, there came a moment of clarity.

            Jesus looked down the road of praise and hosannas to the lurking shadows of Golgotha’s hill. I am sure those same questions entered the minds of those with him. How could those praises become calls for death? How could they yell for the release of Barabbas—a rioter and murderer—instead of Jesus? How could they crucify Jesus, who was by Pilate’s own words, innocent? How could this travesty of death, suffering, and brutality occur? Honestly, there’s sometimes no way around.

            You cannot understand the hope of resurrection without knowing the tragedy of death. You cannot have Easter without the cross. You cannot have the cross without the deceit and betrayal of Palm Sunday. But we also cannot stop at the cross. Too often in faith, we turn all our focus to the death and suffering and misery of the crucifixion. But that’s not the point of the Gospel story. The whole point, meaning, and purpose is the resurrection—life, hope, redemption, and love for humankind.

            In death there is resurrection, in the end is a beginning. We are not called to sit and dwell forever on Jesus’s suffering, on the bad things that come our way, on the fear of every struggle and disappointment the immediate future might bring. The whole of the Gospels, and that is all four of them, is a story of hope for humanity. And we are called to respond exactly how our next hymn finishes up, “Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all.” Are bad things going to happen to us? Probably. But in the end, the pen dipped in Christ’s love writes a story of hope on every one of our lives. Period. The End. Amen.

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/771461578287159

Lent 5: Faithful Answers to Difficult Questions

“Faithful Answers—I Feel Lost:” Jeremiah 15:15-21; Matt.18: 12-14

            In the 1980s, parents became acutely aware of a new struggle in the world of parenting—stranger danger. It was the idea that basically any stranger, and particularly male strangers, were a threat to kids. The fear was that these men or women would snatch or kidnap a child, harm them, abuse them, and so on. As the years have gone on, we’ve realized there’s more an equal balance of threat between known individuals and strangers to a child’s safety. I grew up in the height of the stranger danger fear, so when someone asks if my mother ever lost me in a crowded area, I can say absolutely not.

            “Why is this?” you might ask. There was an absolutely terrible device invented to help parents keep track of their children. And it was, in essence, putting your children on a leash…like a pet. And I remember vividly having the Velcro wrist band around my wrist that attached by a cord to my mother’s wrist. With that level of attachment, there was no way I was going to get gone. You heard it here folks…I was one of the children on a leash.

            We all have these moments where we feel lost and like we need a leash or more like a lifeline. This isn’t lost in the sense of missing out on salvation lost, but just a little too alone in life. Some of us find ourselves starting over. Some of us find ourselves figuring out how to live life in our seventies and eighties. Some of us have school finishing up and new things looming on the horizon. And some of us may have wandered down roads that have taken us places which bother us deep in our souls. But at one time or another, we have all felt a bit lost in life.

            Today’s Gospel lesson comes in the long discourse where Jesus teaches folks how to live together with one another. Other topics in Matthew 18 include the greatest in the kingdom of heaven, correcting another believer, and the unforgiving debtor. All of these are tough lessons on life and living in a world that often presents challenging times to us. Growing up, I was always taught this short lesson on the lost sheep meant Jesus would leave all the saved sheep and go find the unsaved one to bring it home to the holy fold, then rejoice.

            I don’t think that’s the right interpretation. The sheep is not lost in that he doesn’t have faith. The sheep was already part of the fold and belongs to the shepherd. He just found himself wandering around and suddenly lost away from the others. It’s like every parent’s dreaded nightmare—their child lost at Wal-Mart. This parable not a question of where your faith ultimately is; it’s a question of direction. The shepherd hunts for this sheep both because he loves this sheep and because the shepherd fears for the safety of a sheep who is left alone.

            This tells us two things—first, love continually reaches out. I am sure that on the way back to the other 99, the shepherd grumbled under his breath fussing at that sheep for wandering off. But it was from a place of love. The shepherd could have said, “It’s just one sheep,” and not cared about the fate of the missing one. But in loving all of the herd, and in a practical sense, needing them, the shepherd hunted diligently for that sheep. We do the same. Love keeps us grounded in caring, reaching out, and connected, even when our loved on is wandering off and getting into trouble by being a hot mess.

            Love keeps us engaged in a world that needs to know God’s unconditional, but still accountable love and grace as shown from us. But it’s also a reminder that we need faith connections. That one sheep—off and alone and by himself—is much more vulnerable and dangerous than if he is with the other 99 and protected by a strong shepherd. You show me a church member or a whole church that has left their place of worship or denominational home, and I will offer to you where that connection was lost, the community was severed, and isolation (usually self-isolation) became the norm. These are the two things we must remember when we feel lost that love continually seeks us and community or connection is a place of safety because being isolated from the fold of God is not safe.

            The words in Jeremiah echo a strong sense of what it feels like to be alone and lost in life. The pleadings are hard to hear: help me, don’t let me die young, I am suffering, I am alone, and God you seem to not care—where are you? I am sure at some time or another we have all prayed these cries for help. When we are alone and have wandered off and we become isolated, life gets more fearful. A friend of mine used to say, “I can face anything in life, so long as I don’t have to face it alone.” Having this family of faith where the flock is held together and strong with one another keeps us strong, keeps us safe, and keeps us thriving as God’s people.

            In those times we feel the same, and our voice cries out from the lostness within, we hear the same comforting words that God spoke in Jeremiah’s lesson: speak good words rather than worthless ones, God is with you to protect and rescue you, and God will keep you safe and secure. Jeremiah often felt lost and abandoned between the harsh prophecies God was sending and the scorn of the people to whom he was prophet. But always, God was with him, and when he felt most alone, God reminded him both of his mission and the holy presence that went with him. The trouble with Jeremiah’s writing is in the first little bit of reassurance. We know what being safe and secure means. We know God will protect. From the moment we set foot in church, we’ve heard that preached. But that first part, “If you speak good words rather than worthless ones, you will be my spokesman,” is a bit more complicated and challenging.

            One of the biggest ways we avoid becoming lost is by guarding the words we say. Too often we get “mouthy” as I heard it described growing up. As people of God we are called to speak life, speak hope, speak redemption. In some ways the church has become lost because it has substituted its own words and thoughts for the words God has given us. How often do God’s people grumble and complain instead of speaking words of hope and grace? How often do we prophesy our own negativity whether it’s true or not? How often do we follow along with every single sparkly idea instead of following the path and will that God has given us. In the Hebrew scriptures, a common theme is that when the people turned their hearts, their minds, and their words from the truth of God’s word and direction God gave, they wandered away and became lost.

            A friend of mine is a pastor in a rather difficult church and difficult town. The church folks are perfectly fine, but he’s watching the church slowly fade away. The town is a nice town and it’s over-saturated with several churches from the denomination my mother calls “the church of what’s happening now.” Over the past year, his will to minister, to preach, and to lead has all but left him. For a brief time, his words and conversations were dismal on a good day and painful on a bad day. His mind had wandered and there was nothing, seemingly, left for him to carry on with this ministry work. His mind and ability were still there, but his fire and his desire were gone. I think that’s a lasting symptom for the church post-Covid, unfortunately.

            But one day the conversation changed. He said, “I read these words in Jeremiah over and over…’If you return to me, I will restore you. If you speak good words rather than worthless ones, you will be my spokesman.’” It was a reminder for him. His heart was still there, even if his mind had wandered off. And the same God who was with him all the way, was waiting, seeking, and searching for him to come back home.

            In our walk of faith, it’s sometimes easy to get sidetracked and wander off. God doesn’t exactly keep us on a leash like the parents of the 90s did. But this short, two-verse parable is in the Gospel to remind us that when we feel the most lost and lonely, God is still there seeking us, calling us back, and ready to receive us with wide open, welcoming arms. The safest and best place for us to be is near to the heart of God.

 Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/759468552572842

Lent 4: Video Only

https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/411929134667073

Lent 3--Faithful Answers to Difficult Questions

Faithful Answers: When Everything Is a Struggle—Psalm 130; John 10: 1-11

            My friend told me this story of an old widow he met years ago. Now, spoiler alert, I learned later he was pulling my leg. But I was totally enraptured believing this gripping story he was telling me. He explains that in his work as a nurse, he met this very elderly widow, who was clearly very well off financially. She started talking about having been widowed four times…FOUR TIMES! She said she married at 18 to her first husband, who was an investment banker. He died in a car accident and left her very well off. Her next husband was an actor she met while trying to console herself with going to the theater. They were married only briefly before he left her for an actress he worked with.

            Her third husband was the minister who had helped her through the struggles of her first husband’s death and her loneliness. He was a kind, older man who died after a few years of marriage. Her fourth and final husband was the funeral director who handled her third husband’s funeral. And they were married for many years. She had known struggle—three dead husbands and a divorce—a banker, an actor, a minister, and a funeral director. You could say she married one for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, and four to go. I spent 5 minutes of that story feeling so sorry for her unending struggle in life, only to find the whole thing was a joke and there was no such suffering at all.

            But what do we do when we struggle in life? Because if we are honest, life here on earth can be very hard at times both physically and mentally. Everyone is affected whether globally or personally. There are three things we can learn from today’s scripture: first, we must recognize the thief’s purpose; second, we should allow ourselves the time to grieve and process; finally, we must remember to guard our hearts against being consumed by the struggles of this life.

            First, the thief comes to do bad things to our peace and strength in life. Verse 10 of the Gospel says, “The thief’s purpose is to steal, kill, and destroy. My purpose is to give…a rich and satisfying life.” And some days, when we’ve truly had a bad day or week, I am sure we all will feel stolen, killed out, and destroyed. The illustration of Jesus as the gate or the Good Shepherd is one of the starkest descriptions of the difference between the purpose Christ gives us and the struggles on earth we must endure.

            As you may have learned, sheep are not the brightest in the animal kingdom, and they really have no sense of self-protection. If one sheep runs off a cliff, they will almost all follow. It’s no surprise that sheep are the most common illustration for us in the Bible. Sheep will find danger easily, they need to be led to good pastures, and they are easily harmed by intruders. Here we are told that as sheep we need the Good Shepherd to lead and guide us so that we can find a way through the thievery on earth, if you will.

            Now this doesn’t mean the Good Shepherd keeps us from all trouble and danger. I remember this little video someone sent me of a sheep in what I think is New Zealand. It has gotten itself stuck in a small water drainage area. It takes three people with a big rope to pull it out. The sheep jumps up and starts running away only to land directly in the drain again 5 feet away, and if that isn’t exactly how life is every day, then I don’t know what is. The shepherd is there to help us, to lead us, and to pull us back out of the dangers we find ourselves in…or guide us through the dangers to a place of safety.

            A pastor friend once said that God’s promises do not speak of constant comfort and safety. Instead, we are given constant guidance and strength. We are left, then, with a world that needs more of God in it and a life that needs us to rely on God more. The more God in us, the more we can show the message of God’s grace to the world.

            Now, here is a little comforting secret for when life is hard and feels like it has beaten you up. Psalm 30 tells us we can get a little upset, and it’s okay. This is one of those perfect Lenten psalms because it so adequately speaks to the distress we may feel in life. We read the words, “From depths of despair, O Lord, I will call for your help. Hear my cry, O Lord.” I think sometimes we are either trained to think we shouldn’t feel sadness, or we lean into that belief that it shows weakness.

            And yet we read that we can cry and cry out in our depths of despair, and frustration, and tiredness, and irritation, and confusion. Even in the Gospels we read that Jesus wept. One of the reasons that struggles overwhelm us is that we don’t take the time to feel, to grieve, and to address those struggles. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve sat and talked with someone—men and women—and they started crying. And almost every single time, they say, “I’m sorry I’m crying. I can’t help it,” embarrassed by the fact that their particular struggle or trauma made them cry in front of me.

            But that’s normal! You can’t help it because you’ve addressed it. Society has a strong inclination to put on a smile and carry on or fake it till you make it. While that might make life a little easier for a time, it will leave you filled with unresolved pain and trauma. A friend of mine had a pretty sever accident falling from a balcony, and it left her paralyzed and in a wheelchair as just her legs were affected. I asked her about this struggle.

She said, “I grieved and suffered for a long time. It was unbearably hard for so long. But then I decided that just because I couldn’t walk doesn’t mean I can’t do a lot of useful things.” And so, she created a whole foundation to support people who had the same struggle as her. Grief is okay, but eventually we have to find ourselves back seeking a purpose. Even when all of life is a struggle, God never stops calling us, being with us, and loving us.

So, then, how do we deal with life’s overwhelming struggles? The Book of Proverbs can often be very difficult and assertive, but in this instance, it is also insightful. Proverbs 4:23 says, “Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life.” We need to switch from a mindset of stopping all the struggles of life to a mindset of guarding our hearts from the struggles of life.

We hear this same theme in the Gospel. Jesus says, “I am the gate.” But Jesus is more than just the gateway to God’s grace. Jesus is also the gatekeeper for what comes in and affects our lives. As things come my way which I cannot fix or handle, as struggles and sadness hit me, I always try to remember that even if I cannot fix the things in my life, Jesus can help fix them, or Jesus can walk with me in the trial.

A friend of mine had her marriage fall apart a few years ago. She was faithful, devoted, and had no idea there were issues. One day her husband came in and just flat said, “It’s over, and you have to move out,” as he owned the house. For a couple of years she was devastated, defensive, and broken. But after she met someone new, fell in love, got married again and started a family, she continues to work on her peace and her ability to be in a relationship. Guarding your heart doesn’t mean shutting everyone out or being so kind-hearted you get exploited. God calls us to a sense of balance.

Be broken and vulnerable to God’s wisdom, leadership, and calling. But be strong enough to withstand what may come your way in the world. Guard your heart from becoming too hardened and bitter, but also from being overwhelmed by struggles and pain. When you feel like you’re beaten down and sinking, remember that Jesus is the gate and the Good Shepherd. He will keep you safe from what comes your way, and he will lead you with peace and strength in your most difficult times of life.

Every time we sing this closing hymn, I’m reminded of the story behind it. Horatio Spafford, was a Presbyterian minister and lawyer, (just noting I’m not the only lawyer/preacher). He wrote this hymn after the ship carrying his wife and four daughters sank killing all four of his daughters. His wife was saved alone. The music to it was named Villa du Havre after the ship which carried Spafford’s wife and children across the Atlantic.

He was a man beset by suffering and struggle. The voyage came shortly after the Great Fire of Chicago destroyed all his investments in real estate. He and his wife were left with nothing in life except their faith and the hope that they could start over. I am sure they felt overwhelmed by the pain they endured. I am sure there was an untold amount of grief. But they both knew how to guard their hearts from being overwhelmed by the trauma.

In the end, Spafford transformed his suffering into a masterpiece of music which tells the story of guarding your heart and overcoming: “When peace, like a river, attends my way, or when sorrows like sea billows roll; whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say, ‘It is well, it is well with my soul.” Friends, you may not be able to control the insanity that life throws at you, but you can control who walks with you through it. And God will be there each and every step. When life becomes overwhelming, guard your hearts, and reach deep into your soul. God is with you, and you will find that, with any trial, it is well with your soul. Amen.

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/805697644792884

Lent 2: Faithful Answers for Difficult Questions

Faithful Answers—No Labels, No Accusations: Daniel 9: 4-9; John 8: 1-11

            A few years ago, my good friend decided to give up caffeine for Lent. Given the tremendous amount she drank, I was nervous how this would go. Day one, she was all smiles and said she felt better than ever. Day two, she said there was some anxiety and jitters, but it was probably normal. Day three I went to check on her. She was sitting in a dark office. I cautiously asked if she was alright. She was sitting there with a tremendous headache, hands jittering, a clear lack of sleep. She said, “I love Jesus with all my heart, but if I don’t get a cup of coffee immediately, I’m going to need more help than the Holy Spirit to hold me back!”

            For some, the discipline of fasting in Lent is a bit more complicated by years of coffee addiction. She began to cry saying that she had failed, this meant she was a sinner, that she couldn’t do anything right faith-wise. I’m pretty sure it was the un-caffeinated insanity talking, so I told her that living with struggles and shortcomings does not indicate failure. The whole ordeal is a reminder—we are a society that likes to accuse and label both others and ourselves.

            If you live with Alzheimer’s or dementia, society acts as if you are helpless. If you have a disability, society tends to infantilize you or treat you like a child. If you have mental health struggles, there’s a sense of repulsion in society. We have labels and associations for everything: race, age, ability, gender, sexuality, employment, social status. One could say that our society is very judgy. It makes things easy to label, compartmentalize, and follow whatever associations we may have with those labels and accusations.

            The problem is that all of them tend to operate in a place of condemnation or they summon up the idea of something bad. And we all know this. If you say someone is an older adult, there are associations of slow driving, being fussy, going to S&S Cafeteria. If you say someone is really young, we think inexperience, emotional immaturity, and so on. Think how many of our labels carry a weight of negativity with them. When we label someone based on what we see, it almost always carries some measure of condemnation for that person.

            We see that in the Gospel. A woman is brought to Jesus with a label, an accusation—adulterer, caught in the act, a sinner. And I’m sure that for someone caught in adultery there were much worse words that could be said. The crowd has two devious plans going at the same time: to get this woman punished by death and to trap Jesus into saying something they could turn around and label or accuse him of in return. It was a double whammy both to bring condemnation to the woman and a plot to entrap Jesus.

            But I’ll give you a more recent example of such negative language. My good friend is working on a new business venture. He and a buddy are doing a mobile pet grooming business. We were talking about getting the corporation set up, advertising, and such like that. He said to me, “Don’t get me wrong…I’m scared of failing.” As I was writing this sermon, I decided to go full on pastor mode. I responded, “It’s never failing It’s finding new ways to do something, and I’ve got your back in this.” To those who gleefully wanted to have this woman stoned to death for her sin, Jesus said that the one without any sin can cast the first stone. Society’s problem is there’s a lot of stones being cast, but not a lot of self-examination to see if the caster of stones is blameless enough to pick up that stone in the first place.

            There are ample places where Jesus does not condemn folks. Romans 8 says there is no condemnation in Christ. Romans 3 reiterates the same. And here, Jesus asks the woman where her accusers are, and did not one of them condemn her. Jesus then says, “Neither do I.” But it’s not so simple as just that. There is still one issue remaining here.

            This woman was caught in the act of adultery. And adultery is still wrong, no matter how you much love and forgiveness is found in the story. It still breaks the sacred promise of the covenant between two who are married. There’s no way around the fact that she did, in fact, do something wrong. Jesus’s words of forgiveness and restoration for this woman are still followed by, “Go and sin no more.” We also read the power of a humble repentance in Daniel.

            Daniel confesses, on behalf of the people, their rebelliousness, their selfish ways, their bad behavior before God. But just as badly as the people had behaved, God’s forgiveness and grace is equally as expansive. Daniel says, “But the Lord our God is merciful and forgiving, even though we have rebelled against [God].” I believe it’s implied in the Gospel that Jesus knew the woman was sorry and repentant. And the whole purpose of Jesus’s ministry was not to stone people to death when they were truly sorry, but to offer forgiveness.

            The faithful answer to any shortcoming, sin, or perceived failure is repentance and restoration. The words “I’m sorry” may not fix every bad thing we have ever done, but they get us on the road to realigning ourselves with faith and love in this world. But for those who seem unable to see the harm they’ve caused or don’t ever care to apologize or repent, remember to move on. They will never find a place of repentance and apology until God has dealt with them. The people Daniel prayed for were in slavery and conquered because of their bad behavior. The woman in the Gospel was brought literally to the brink before Jesus intervened. God will deal with hearts and minds. Just let it go and let God work.

            Lastly, many folks struggle with this idea of no condemnation. Surely, we have to call out what is wrong, right? Surely, we must stand against people’s wrongdoing, sin, the things we collectively know as evil, right? Consider the perspective The problem is not that we are letting people go free in their wrongdoing, nor is it an issue with holding others accountable. The question is this…are we the ones without sin who can cast the first stone? If we are guilty, then we cannot condemn. We must work out our own repentance and restoration. It’s Jesus’s polite way of saying, “Mind your own business.”

            Lent is the season of fasting. We tend to give up something as a spiritual discipline to remove that particular distraction and focus on our relationship with God more. My friend tried this. She was bound and determined to give up coffee. I think where she lost her way was only going half the distance. Lent is not just about giving something up. It’s purposeful. It’s about giving something up to work on our relationship with God. Now, if she had given up coffee to focus more on health or to add in more communion, or to use the coffee-making/drinking time for prayer, it would have been more purposeful.

            Pope Francis said a few years ago that there is a better way to fast for Lent. Fast from hurting words and say kind words. Fast from sadness and be filled with gratitude. Fast from anger and be filled with patience. Fast from pessimism and be filled with hope. Fast from worries and trust in God. Fast from complaints and contemplate simplicity. Fast from pressures and be prayerful. Fast from bitterness and focus on life’s joy. Fast from selfishness and be compassionate towards others. Fast from grudges and find healing. Fast from words and be silent enough to listen.

            Let me add to that for you. Fast from condemning, labelling, stereotyping, and seek to make disciples for God’s kingdom. Fast from self-harm, self-hate, and personal negativity, and seek gentleness. The entire work of Jesus’s ministry was to take a world of suffering and condemnation and offer a way to forgiveness and love. I pray we find ourselves doing this same work as we seek to follow Jesus.

             Worship video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/368707449383634

Lent: Faithful Answers for Difficult Questions

I Just Want to Be Ok—Job 2:1-10; Mark 5: 1-20

            Many of us have grown up in families that have a particular way of dealing with struggles and the tough times of life. There are in fact a number of lyrical phrases in life that describe this particular therapeutic method. They sound something like this: suck it up, buttercup, just put up or shut up, deal with it, man up, get over it already, bite the bullet and go on, and the award winning one that work every time when someone is upset—“just calm down.” I have never, ever in my life found one person for whom being told to just calm down ever works.

            As we begin our Lenten journey of faithful answers in tough times, we look at the idea of suffering today, wondering aloud, “I just want to be okay.” Today’s scriptures tell two stories of people who endured suffering in life but found the way through, and make no mistake, it’s almost always a way through and not a way around. Here are the lessons we can take away: we never know the depths of another’s suffering and struggle, some folks don’t want to do better so you need boundaries, healing can be fast or long timeline, so build a good circle cause not everyone is going to support you.

            The truth is that we never know the depth of another person’s struggle. Both of scriptures for today tell of a very deep level of suffering. Job, in the span of a day, lost all his family, his livestock and farming, his servants, and on day two his health. The only thing he didn’t lose was his wife, and frankly, she probably should have been the first thing to go. Likewise, the Gerasene man was hounded and tortured by his demons, abused by the locals who tried to control him with violent and exploitive means, and living in abject suffering. Job sat in quiet sadness. The Gerasene man howled loudly. And here is proof that there is no right way to go through a period of suffering.

            There are times in life you have to go through a bad period, a low point, a set time where you will wonder, “Why can’t I just suck it up and be okay?” But though we may all suffer, there is no right or wrong way to do so. It’s not our role to judge and evaluate another’s suffering. We are to simply be with them. Job held it together through untold physical suffering. I can come unglued from a papercut. We are all going to have struggles in life, so let’s make it a point to be a present, loving care to someone instead of trying to evaluate their state.

            The one time where you do have to be careful is people who don’t want to do better. This is an area I fundamentally don’t understand. The Gerasenes saw the power of Jesus to heal, to help, to save this man from the worst of suffering and demon possession. One would think they’d flock to Jesus asking how can this holy man help us!? But instead, they run away and beg Jesus to leave. They reject every aspect of what has been done. Now, there are political, social, and economic reasons for this. But how do you reject this man who offers such hope and power?

            There are people like this. They say they want help, but in reality, they seek attention. And if you are in the place of trying to be okay in your own life, you cannot fix them. Jesus can help them, but you are not the great fixer or a savior. God alone does that. I’ll give you an example. I remember a pastor friend of mine had a church visitor who they prayed over and “delivered” again and again for the same thing over and over. He was confused why this kept happening. Finally, I said to him, “You cannot be delivered from the demons you’re in love with.” In the end, the Gerasene man wanted healing. The Gerasene people wanted rid of the healer because they were the ones in love with their own figurative demons.  

            So, let’s talk about what it looks like to come to a path of healing. For some it is pretty fast, for others it’s a long-term journey. When Jesus encounters the Gerasene man, the evil inside of him recognized Jesus and his holy presence almost immediately. That evil being held inside of him shrieked and begged Jesus to leave him alone. Here’s the depth of Jesus’s compassion. He didn’t destroy that spirit…he sent it to pigs at that spirit’s own request. Jesus wasn’t the cause of the pigs’ demise, he only granted what the bad spirit asked for.

            There are some bad habits, bad people, and bad trauma which can be addressed almost immediately when the light of healing is shined on it. A friend of mine had a lot of trouble with a co-worker who was constantly tearing her down, badmouthing her, and trying to start trouble. Upon finding out, she went to that person and demanded they stop. Shortly thereafter the offensive coworker was fired. There are bad people, bad habits, bad situations where we can say, “Stop,” and set a boundary, and end the problem…or send it off to live with the pigs. That takes some faith and a lot of courage.

            But sometimes we need a large amount of faith and a good circle of friends. Job was in a much different place. He had no idea why his suffering was happening. He had no power over the situation to say, “Stop!” He did not have a Jesus in his life to support him. Sometimes healing in life is a long and slow process. The Book of Job begins in chapters one and two with Job’s tremendous suffering. His restoration comes in the middle of chapter 42. That’s a lot time to wait for God’s response. Sometimes the answer to our prayers is not immediate. Sometimes we’re left with the best we can do, just suck it up, or keep praying. Job may have waited a long time, but God was still faithful.

            Job turned to friends who blamed him, offered no help, and caused more suffering. Job’s wife told him to simply curse God and die. But in the end, Job could still count on God even though he had a long time to wait. But God never left him. God was with Job all the time, and despite the misery in Job’s life, God was still in control of the situation and didn’t leave Job without hope at some point. And Job gives us that great lesson—whether it is a time of great blessing or a time of loss and trouble, blessed be the name of the Lord.

            The common threads in these two stories are first that both Job and the Gerasene man sought God in their time of need, and two God healed and restored both when the time was right. None of that promises an easy journey. In my time as an attorney, I’ve dealt with numerous types of mental health conditions, physical disabilities, life trauma, addiction, and so on. Finding healing is an incredibly difficult journey, no matter what the struggle is. But also, there is nothing that is beyond God’s strength.

            One of the most common questions in the Book of Job is how long did his suffering last? We really don’t know. Most scholars agree it was more than two months. Some speculate 42 months, one for each chapter. But there are many scholars who believe it was years, and some even say decades. The question we’re left with, unfortunately, is not a question of length but of faith. Even when God makes us wait, will we still hold the faith that God is with us. Both of these scriptures and examples show us that God will never leave, but we must continue on in our faith until the end.

            In the end we never know how much a person suffers. There’s a saying in life that you never know what a person is going through until you walk a mile in their shoes. And that is very true. Each person has some struggle in life, and we must remember that and be a supportive part of that journey. But we must also set boundaries and protect our own peace from people who are in love with their own demons and refuse to be a part of the healing journey God offers.

            Healing and help may be fast, or we may have to settle in and wait like Job did. But even though people, family, sanity, and everything else left Job and the Gerasene man behind, God was still there with strength for that day and bright hope for tomorrow. I hear a lot of rough sayings—suck it up, buttercup; get over it and move on; and the grand prize winner…just calm down. I think, perhaps, a much better saying is, “Precious Lord, take my hand.” When we have our faith in Jesus to help us and heal us, we have a hope we can count on every time.

   Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/403209789053514

Transfiguration Sunday

Directions: How to Make Change—II Kings 2: 1-12; Mark 9: 2-9

            When I started as the organist and choir director at Our Savior Lutheran Church in 2005, which feels like yesterday but is 19 years ago, the pastor told me a little joke on my first Sunday getting ready to play the Divine Service. It’s an old joke. He asked me how many Christians does it take to change a lightbulb: Pentecostal—just one as hands are already raised, Presbyterian—none because lights will go on and off at predestined times, Disciples of Christ—one to change the lightbulb and three committees to approve and change it multiple times, Baptist—one to change the lightbulb and 30 to cover the potluck, Lutherans—none, they don’t believe in change.

            We’ve been talking about changing directions all through Epiphany, and I’ve saved probably the simplest and hardest issue for last when it comes to change: we just don’t like it. My friend used to have a pair of jeans that were old, dirty, worn out, and had more holes in them than a colander. But he kept wearing them to the point of nearing a dangerous exposure. Why? Because it was familiar and comfortable. Friends, I share your struggle, but the truth is, we don’t get much choice. It’s like those death and taxes things—change is assured. So here are three ways of coping: first change is hard, so embrace the difficulty; second change is inevitable, so be ready to roll with it; last change is necessary, so make the most of it when it happens.

First, let’s all just collectively acknowledge that change is hard. But like the old jazzercise or aerobics videos in the 80s said, “Feel the burn.” Change is hard, but we can embrace the difficulty. In II Kings, we read of a difficult coming change in the lives of the Israelites. Elijah had been the prophet for 24 years, and he had accomplished some amazing things, but it was time for a change.

The people say to his servant, Elisha, “Did you know the Lord is going to take away your master today?” Elisha’s response is, “Of course I know…but be quiet about it.” Many have speculated if Elisha’s response was somehow integral to this change of authority in the community, but usually the simplest answer is correct. He’s sad. His mentor of two plus decades, whom he’s been like father and son with, is going to be taken from him today. He doesn’t want to talk about it. Change is hard. And when the time comes, the chariots of fire appear, swoop right between them, and whisk Elijah away in a whirlwind in a matter of seconds. Ejlisha rips his clothes in distress and likely terror. Change is hard and painful.

But what is his request? He asks for a double portion of Elijah’s spirit and to become his successor. Elisha knew what he was facing was going to be incredibly difficult, painful, and likely very lonely. Prophets aren’t popular. But he embraced the coming change and asked God for what he needed to make him successful in this change of life. Change is hard, but we can make the difficult work.

Change is also inevitable, so we need to be ready to roll with what comes our way. My friend’s toddler was a picky eater. She absolutely loved a “grilled cheese” in a tortilla. But if you called it a quesadilla, she threw a fit and said it was nasty. Sometimes that spirit doesn’t leave us and we want to refuse all change. But change is inevitable. The transfiguration shows the disciples’ struggle to understand that change that was happening. Was Jesus a prophet, rabbi, new person on the block in the Jewish faith?

It had to be difficult to hear the words from heaven proclaiming Jesus as the “dearly loved son.” They weren’t following a familiar teacher, they were following someone and something wholly and completely different. Churches are plagued with this issue. We hear jokes of the “First Church of No Change” and “sitting on the pew of do nothing, go nowhere singing ‘I shall not be moved.’” Faith was never meant to be comfortable. It was meant to challenge us daily how to follow Jesus and for us to challenge the world how to draw closer to the Kingdom of God.

If we’re not challenging, if we’re not growing, if we’re not pushing others toward the love of Christ, then we have to admit we’re only coming to church in the hopes of getting to heaven and nothing more. That’s not good enough. Even the demons believed in and recognized Jesus. We have to roll with the changes and challenges and follow Jesus whom we love and believe in. Change is not a horrible attack on us, it’s an opportunity for us to find new ways of sharing the unconditional and overwhelming love of God with the world. Change is inevitable in life, so let’s see it as an opportunity and be ready to roll with what comes our way.

Lastly, change is necessary, so we have to make the most of it.  We’ve alluded to this idea all along the way in this sermon. The light bulb has to be changed at some point, or we will be sitting in the dark. Change may be hard and inevitable, but it also presents an opportunity to make the most of it. Look back again at Elisha’s words, “When they came to the other side, Elijah said to Elisha, ‘Tell me what I can do for you before I am taken away.’ And Elisha replied, ‘Please let me inherit a double share of your spirit and become your successor.’ ‘You have asked a difficult thing,’ Elijah replied. ‘If you see me when I am taken from you, then you will get your request. But if not, then you won’t.’”

Elisha knew that his closest mentor and friend was about to be gone, and that likely he would now bear the burden of what Elijah had worked on so long. Elisha knew that all of his life was about to change when the chariots took Elijah up into Heaven.  And instead of shutting down, he prayed and asked for the strength to excel and carry on in the work he was called to do. Likewise, the disciples’ lives changed dramatically when they followed Jesus. They went from simple fishermen to being the leaders of this movement started by Jesus. It was a radical change in their lives, but they committed themselves to the work of faith and to following Christ to the very end.

My friends, today is called Transfiguration Sunday in the church calendar because the Gospel lesson tells of this scene of “The Transfiguration.” Now, that word, Transfiguration means “a complete change of form or appearance into a more beautiful or spiritual state.” (Oxford Dictionary). This is why we must make the most of life’s changes—because they’re necessary. In every change and new place we find ourselves, God is leading us into a closer walk or a more “beautiful and spiritual state.” The more we are adaptive and leadable, the more God can draw us closer and equip us for our work in this world. Change is necessary, so let us take every advantage of the opportunity change presents us.

When the pastor at Our Savior Lutheran told me the joke about changing a lightbulb, he laughed a little bit after the punchline of Lutherans not believing in change. Then he added, “But maybe we should a bit more.” Throughout Epiphany we’ve looked at the places in life that we need new direction or new ways of living as God’s faithful people in this world. Change is hard, change is inevitable, and change is necessary. But in all of that we can embrace the struggle and learn to grow. We can be ready to roll with the punches and push forward, and we can take advantage of the opportunities change and grown can bring us.

My friends, as we draw this series to a close and prepare for the season of Lent, I ask you this: where is God calling you to change directions and grow in faith in your life? In all of life’s journey, we have the opportunity to grow in ourselves and in our walk with God, but it requires us to be adaptable and ready to follow. It’s not easy, but it’s necessary. So, the question remains, will you be ready to follow where God is calling you today, tomorrow, and forever?

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/1776880822786077

Fifth Sunday in Epiphany

Directions: Your Story—I Corinthians 9: 16-23; Mark 1: 29-39

            Years ago, a friend’s dad was trying to tell me a funny joke he had heard. Knowing his dad, I anticipated it would be off color. It’s been awhile, so I don’t remember exactly how it goes. I do remember that there was a priest, a bandit, and a politician walking into a bar, then at some point they go out. But what I do remember is that after two of three movements of the group, my friend’s dad stopped for a second and said…”Anyway…” and changed the topic. I asked why he did that, and the reply was, “I’m old. I forgot the punchline. I’ll remember it in a minute.” It’s been 23 years, and I’m still waiting for that punchline. Truth be told he was never much of a story teller

            In many societies, storytelling is a common practice for sharing entertainment, sharing family history, finding a common bond, and learning something new. It’s storytelling that kept the faith alive for the Hebrew people as they shared the stories of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Moses down over the years so that each new generation knew of the great leaders of the people and the faith. We hear this idea of storytelling and faith woven together in hymns like, “Tell Me the Story of Jesus,” and “We’ve a Story to Tell to the Nations,” as well as “I Love to Tell the Story.”

            At the table each Sunday we tell the story again of how Jesus sacrificed himself to give us life and hope. It’s a story with power and holiness attached to it. But there’s something tangible as well. As the hymn says, “Taste and see that God is good.” We don’t just hear the story of God’s love, we take physical, touchable reminders of that love and sacrifice as well.

            Much of this faith we live is bound up in stories. We, too, hear the stories of Joseph’s overcoming, David’s strength, Jonah’s disobedience, and Jesus’s miracles, love, and teaching. We hear these stories with a purpose, and that purpose is to affect and change our lives and behavior. Gospel stories and Biblical narratives are an opportunity to hear of God’s goodness and be changed by it in some way. We must never squander that opportunity.

            But each one of us has a story as well. And there is a collective wisdom, history, and knowledge in this church that can tell powerful stories of faith and overcoming, of how God and the Good Word helped and led in times of trouble or suffering in life. Your story is important too because it tells of how we live in relationship to God’s love and a very confusing modern society here and now.

            Now please don’t shriek in horror and dread of what I just said. The Bible is still the authoritative book on God, faith, and Christ’s love, but it’s your stories of life which teach the practical application to others. This is exactly what Paul did—he made the story of Christ adaptable. He writes in I Corinthians:

When I was with the Jews, I lived like a Jew to bring the Jews to Christ. When I was with those who follow the Jewish law, I too lived under that law. Even though I am not subject to the law, I did this so I could bring to Christ those who are under the law. When I am with the Gentiles who do not follow the Jewish law, I too live apart from that law so I can bring them to Christ. But I do not ignore the law of God; I obey the law of Christ. When I am with those who are weak, I share their weakness, for I want to bring the weak to Christ. Yes, I try to find common ground with everyone, doing everything I can to save some. I do everything to spread the Good News and share in its blessings. I Cor. 9: 20-23.

            To those of us who grew up hearing that the truth of God’s word never changes, these words by Paul might seem somewhat scandalous at first glance. He said what?? But if you read closely, it is not the truth of Paul’s message which changes, it’s the context and application. Paul writes that he tries to find some common ground with every group he meets, first to be a decent person and second to make sure the story of faith he shares is relevant, appropriate, and finding a context which resonates with the hearer.

            I remember a youth pastor who came to speak to my high school youth group’s camp. He had finished up a few years of youth ministry in the inner city in Camden, New Jersey. He had learned how to adapt and work with the tough local youth. One young man wanted to pray for the first time. He was a gang-banger with a tough reputation who was struggling with life and faith. The pastor told him just to pray to God as if God is his friend. The young man started, “Sup bruh…” which was followed by a string of cusswords, so the pastor had to interrupt and reorient the young man to pray as if it were his grandmother. Sometimes context is very important to understanding.

            Understanding the context of your calling, your sharing, your stories of faith is important. Even in a small church like this, there are stories of faith and experience that can help folks so much, especially those who are trying to change direction and find their way in life. Here we have people who can tell of living with a loved one who is in decline or has an impairment. We have people who can tell of coping with and finding faith in the midst of a struggle with mental illness. We have people who can tell of overcoming tough physical medical issues. We have stories of navigating toxic people in life and families; stories of starting over alone either by choice or because you just have to keep on, and stories of living in America when you look differently, speak differently, or remember a time of segregation that few in the younger generation would understand or appreciate.

            All of these stories are important to share because they teach us, especially our youth, how to live a faithful life in hard times. If you don’t believe me, just look at the Golden Girls. Forty years later, if you mention a St. Olaf story or you say, “Picture it—Sicily—1916,” everyone knows what you’re talking about. So, the question for us, as God’s people, is this: who are we telling our stories to? Sometimes we’re a bit quick to give tough advice and often times give it unsolicited. But we don’t tell the stories that will inspire, encourage, and uplift. My mom could have told me 1,000 times that I needed to go get a good education and make something of myself, but no teenager was going to listen. What I did listen to, however, was the story of how Nana set sail for America at 18 by herself because she loved a soldier boy and thought she could do a bit better for herself here.

            Even Jesus tells the importance of sharing our stories in his own example. In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus says, ““We must go on to other towns as well, and I will preach to them, too. That is why I came.” So he traveled throughout the region of Galilee, preaching in the synagogues and casting out demons.” Jesus often offered words of wisdom, but when the people really needed help, Jesus told a story. He told of a Good Samaritan, a prodigal son, wheat and chaff, fruit bearing trees, mustard seeds, and so much more.

            How often do you tell your stories to others, and especially the harder stories of your life? We have a bit of a “we don’t talk about such things” attitude in society, but what if we did share? Imagine if we sat down with the teenager or young adult in our lives and, instead of saying to them how bad their decisions are, we said, “When I was 17, I made a bad decision, here’s the story and how it affected me.” What if we were honest, vulnerable, and invited conversation, just like Jesus did, when people needed to find a new direction, needed healing and help, or needed to go and sin no more. Perhaps an even tougher question is when was the last time we shared stories of a church that welcomes and loves, heals and helps, and has a pretty fantastic congregation of folks?

            You might be a bit of messy storyteller and joke deliverer like my friend’s father. But when it comes to stories of faith, that’s okay. You don’t have to be Mark Twain or Agatha Christie to tell a powerful story. You simply need the heart, the love, and the faith. The question is not how great of a story can you tell to help those in need, but instead, the question is found in the last verse of our last hymn: “’Are ye able?’ still the Master whispers down eternity, and heroic spirits answer now, as then, in Galilee.” Amen.

 Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/405487718805961