"Better Than Sliced Bread" - Pentecost 12B

The Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost

1 Kings 19:4-8
Saint John 6:35, 41-51

It is the invention that all other inventions are judged by.

The story of this great innovation began in 1912 in Davenport, Iowa with a man named Otto Frederick Rohwedder.  At first, as with most new ideas, his was greeted with skepticism.  Fellow members of the industry scoffed and said if their product was subjected to his invention it wouldn’t last as long.  Also when passed through his new machine it tended to fall apart all over the floor.  Salespeople also had a hard time placing it in the bag without the pieces exploding out of their hands like a mishandled deck of cards.

Rohwedder resorted to the use of hatpin to keep the product together.  They too fell out resulting in a mess.

Both problems were solved when Rohwedder added a feature that immediately wrapped the product in wax paper as it emerged from his machine.  Still his colleagues remained dubious.

Sixteen years later, in “1928, Rohwedder traveled to Chillicothe, Missouri, where  Frank Bench took a chance on this idea.

The very first loaf of pre-sliced bread went on store shelves  July 7, 1928, as ‘Sliced Kleen Made Bread.’ It was an instant success. Bench's sales quickly skyrocketed.

“In 1930, Wonder Bread began to commercially produce pre-sliced loaves of bread, popularizing sliced bread and making it a household staple.”1

Along with this invention the cliche’ “That’s the greatest thing since sliced bread” was born to laud any new idea.

Bread is one of life’s essentials.  Inmates were reduced to bread and water.  A plate of pasta would not be the same without simple bread soaked in fine olive oil.  Peanut Butter and Jelly would just be a messy combo without bread to hold it together.  Bread is important to almost every culture at every time though history.  And it was specially important in Biblical times.

If you have been in church the last few Sundays you know that. It’s all we seem to be talking about.

Two weeks ago we heard the old familiar story of Jesus feeding the five thousand with a few fish and

a couple of pieces of bread.  Last week we heard Jesus expound on this gift by comparing it to the manna in the wilderness.  This week he tells us that he is “the bread of life.” I have a feeling this may be why your very fine pastor took this Sunday off - he may have run out of things to say about bread.

The importance of bread can even be seen in today’s reading from the Hebrew Scriptures where we come upon a solitary figure sitting under a tree. 

It is Elijah.  He is alone.  He is depressed.  His depression is so great that were we around him we would have been calling 9-1-1.

What had just happened was his legendary showdown at Mount Carmel with the prophets of Baal.  You remember the story.

Elijah and the prophets face off to prove whose god is the real god.  The altars are loaded up with sacrifices and we wait for fire from heaven.  The prophets of Baal have little to show for all their efforts, not even a spark.  Elijah taunts them and then says the word and the LORD sends a firestorm.  The people respond by proclaiming devotion to the God of Israel.

Having her prophets humiliated does not please the queen, Jezebel, who puts a contract out on Elijah’s life. 

After this exercise in speed bible story telling we find the prophet complaining to God.  “Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors.”

That is the key to Elijah’s depression.  He thought that he would be able to do what none of his ancestors were able to do.  He thought that with his spectacular fireworks display everybody would turn to the LORD from the lowest peasant to the Queen in her court.  But they don’t.

And thinking that he could save the world and failing, Elijah becomes depressed.

That may a take away for us. 

No one deed, no matter how spectacular, will turn everything around. 

No human can solve all our problems and when they think they can they often get in trouble.

The landscape is littered with the depressed souls of those who began to believe that they were larger than life characters who could do things that others could not. 

I’m thinking of a Cardinal Archbishop and a church leader who may have changed the concept of outreach to the unchurched forever but who have to be sitting under their own broom trees now because they got caught up in their own power.

Politicians who promised to “drain the swamp” being discovered to be swamp creatures themselves.  Or a city looking for that one majestic solution to the carnage of gun violence and failing to see that it is going to take a myriad of good people, with good ideas, to turn things around.

If we go on thinking that we are the only one who can make every thing right we will be miserable.  If we tell ourselves there is nothing we can do we will become even more miserable.

What Elijah forgot was that he wasn’t responsible for all the powerful deeds he was doing in his life - God was.  What Elijah forgot was that he wasn’t responsible for everything, God was.

And so God brings the prophet who only days before was enjoying his greatest success to a place where he has to rely on what he really needs - a radical dependence on God.  And relying on what God gave him he was able to go on his way.

Jesus’ listeners had a hard time with that dependence too.

First, they were unable to get over their history forgetting an important part.  They say to Jesus: “Moses fed our ancestors with bread in the desert.  It says so in the Scriptures: ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’”

They forgot something.  Moses didn’t give them the bread, God did.  Moses just passed it out.

Second, they were unable to get over Jesus’ history.  “‘What?’ they exclaimed.  ‘Why, he is merely Jesus the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know.’”

They failed to see that what was at work in Jesus was no less than the power of God.

Saint John’s gospel is the last written and so it is less narrative and more John working out the theology of the church.  In this case what believe about Jesus, the bread of life, we receive at the Eucharist.

What we believe when we come to the table is we receive bread that gives us life, bread that gives us strength for our journeys.

Bread which gives us strength to be a disciple of the living God which means turning the other cheek, walking out of step with the aims of the world, rejecting power and the idolatries of racism, nationalism, materialism and sexism for a real faith that is dependent on God and needs to be strengthened and sustained by God’s power.

The prophets of old couldn’t do it all on their own and neither can we.  We need Jesus who is here for us. 

All we need to do is reach out our hands and receive him and then rise to do his work, as best we can, wherever we are in the world.

The weekly reminder that we need Jesus may be the best thing that ever happens to us. 

Yes, even better than sliced bread.
 

_____________

1.  Jennifer Rosenberg, "Do You Know Why Sliced Bread Is Such and Important Invention," ThoughtCo, , accessed August 10, 2018, https://www.thoughtco.com/sliced-bread-invented-1779266.

2.  2 Kings 19:4b.  (NIV) [NIV=The New International Version]

3.  St.  John 6:31.  (MSG) [MSG=The Message]
  

4.  Saint John 6:42.  (TLB) [TLB=The Living Bible]

 

Sermon preached at Saint Timothy Lutheran Church

Skokie, Illinois

August 5, 2015

"Power, Passion and Compassion - Pentecost 10B

2 Samuel 11:-15

Saint John 6:1-13

This may not surprise you at all but, according to the Pew Research Center, “in general, people in richer nations are less likely than those in poorer nations to say that religion plays a very important role in their lives.”1

Tyler Castle, fleshed this out for us in a blog on the website “Values and Capitalism” writing:

As people become more prosperous, they become more comfortable with their lives.  They find more satisfaction in the material realities of this world, which means they are less inclined to depend on God...

I have found this to be true in my own life, especially during certain seasons. [When] my life is filled with many wonderful things: material blessings, relationships, opportunities for personal fulfillment ... it is easy to get caught up in the goodness of the here and now.  When my life seems to be going well, I am less likely to look to God for my provision.  Instead, it is during the painful, lonely times that I cling desperately to God.2

Is that true for you?  It certainly is true for me.  And it certainly was true for King David

You have been following his story and, last week, you heard about his home building project.  You heard that by every measure he had built the finest house in all the land.  His house was the envy of all his neighbors.  It was a house fit for a king which is what he was. But by our standards it was a dive.

Remember these were very smelly times.  Horses, cows, chickens roaming the streets.  No sewer systems or even any indoor plumbing. Fires for cooking and heating; no glass in the windows; no fans unless you had a slave to stand over you all day.  Any student of history knows that life, even in the early part of the twentieth century, was not easy.

Even so, King David was quite pleased with himself.  If he had a mirror, he would probably stand before it every morning and say: “Dang!  You’re hot!”  Not only that but he was a slayer of giants, a military leader unlike any ever known, a builder of outstanding buildings, and an all around stable genius.

And it is here we find him wallowing in his greatness.

We know his story all too well.  It even seems that we are living in this story.  Everyday we hear about another fallen emperor. Everyday there is another tawdry episode about a politician, or entertainer, or journalist, or tycoon who didn’t remember what his mother, I hope, taught him when he was little: “Keep your hands to yourself.”

“In the spring,” Scripture tells us, “at the time when kings go off to war”3  David mind is way ahead of John Lennon who famously said in the 1960s “Make love, not war.”

I have absolutely no intention of going into the specifics of what happened between David and Bathsheba on that hot night. (In more ways than one!) You can find the dreadful details of such encounters on almost any news program, newspaper,  or in this weeks edition of The New Yorker.4

Let’s just say that the same behavior by powerful men in our day gave birth to the “#metoo” movement in David’s day resulted in a baby boy.  The King would then participate in a cover-up of major proportions. 

As we have heard over and over again it is not the crime but the coverup.  But when you are a king you have absolute power and as the old saying goes: “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”5  Powerful people have the potential to be bad people.

At this point in his life David was a very bad man.

The king invites the husband of his mistress over for drinks, gets him tipsy, and the next morning while Uriah is still hung-over, sends him to the front lines of battle where the he is killed.

(Is it getting warm in here or is it just me?)

If anybody tells you that the Bible isn’t relevant to our day point them to this passage.  It has the misuse of power written all over it.  And when power combines with passion there is trouble of major proportions.

We’ll leave beloved King David to think about what he has done and stew in his own juices until next Sunday because if the only thing you come away from church is the feeling that “as it was so shall it ever be” you might not come back. 

I can’t leave you in despair.  Power does not always have to lead to unbridled passion sometimes it can lead to compassion.

We know the kind of power Jesus had.  He could still storms, heal the sick, even raise the dead.  This is the kind of power no king or political leader will ever have.  And this is the kind of power we are to be inspired to emulate.

Saint Mark remembers in his Gospel that when Jesus lifted up his eyes and saw the crowd his heart and mind were full of compassion.

Now I know you have heard this story countless times in your life. You were probably sitting there as I read this saying, “Oh yes, this old saw.  I remember it: thousands of people, two fish, two loaves, big meal. Speaking of which, I wonder what we should have for dinner.”

But hearing this story in light of David’s untidy little tale gives it new meaning.  To put it directly: King David is all about power used for passion.  It is all about his wants, needs, and desires.  Jesus uses his power to show compassion.

David knew the name of the person he was taking advantage of.  Jesus had no idea who he was feeding and he didn’t care!

Nowhere does either Jesus or his disciples’ question who the five thousand people were or might be. Nowhere does either Jesus or his disciples eliminate, segregate, or exclude. Jesus doesn’t ask the disciples to sort the five thousand by socioeconomic status or by test scores or by academic degree achieved or by strength of their individual faith—or by any faith, for that matter—or by culture or by ethnicity or by gender or by age. This table was open to all, not because of who they were...
 when Jesus was asked to feed people, he showed an unimaginable love ... an unthinkable leap of acceptance... He said, “Feed ’em! Feed ’em all! Every one of them.” Friends, where in this world do we ever (compassion) quite like that?6

Actually I saw it last week when you brought baskets of food up for the Irving Park Food Pantry.  I see it in the churches in downtown Chicago who have banded together to give the homeless a hot meal every night of the week.  I see it in the Chicago Night Ministry who goes out on the streets with their “Night Bus” to deliver health care to people who have fallen through society’s cracks.  

Yes, I can even see it among the wealthy and powerful - the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation; Warren Buffet who, according to Forbes gave away $3.4 billion dollars just in April.7 

These are powerful men and women who form foundations to help others and not pay for paintings of themselves to hang in their offices.

What caused King David to fall from grace is that he believed his own press releases.  He believed that he could draw the biggest crowds. He believed that he was smarter than all of his generals combined.  He believed he could outsmart everybody else and do whatever he wanted.    He believed in power and passion over compassion.  He shifted his gaze from God and turned it toward himself. And so he showed his potential one hot night to be a very bad person indeed.

Jesus shows us another way.  

The diabolical one had shown him all the vestiges of money, power, and prestige when Jesus’ was tempted in the wilderness.  Jesus rejected all those earthy treasures in favor of a life and ministry that showed a richness of compassion toward others that was so strong that it even included the giving of his life.

My guess is the none of us sitting here are playing in the same financial league as the Buffets and Gates of the world.  My guess is that all of us here belong to the great middle class of where we have enough to live on happily but not so much that we can become full of ourselves.  My guess is that all of us have discovered that while King David had a nice house for his time it is nothing compared to ours.

So what are we to do?  How are we to live? 

Perhaps these words for John Wesley can help.

 Do all the good you can,
 By all the means you can,
 In all the ways you can,
 In all the places you can,
 At all the times you can,
 To all the people you can,
 As long as ever you can.8

 Thanks for listening.

Sermon preached at Irving Park Lutheran Church

Chicago, Illinois 

Sunday, July 29, 2018

____________________

1.  Gai, George. "How Do Americans Stand Out From the Rest of the World." Fact Tank: News in the Numbers. March 12, 2015. Accessed July 27, 2018. http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2015/03/12/how-do-americans-stand-out-from-the-rest-of-the-world/ 

2.  Castle, Tyler. "Does Wealth Make Us Less Religious." Values and Capitalism. Accessed July 27, 2018. http://www.valuesandcapitalism.com/does-wealth-make-us-less-religious/.

3.  2 Samuel 11:1a.  (NIV) [NIV=The New International Version]

4.  Sermon preached the same week this article was published: 

Farrow, Ronan. "Les Moonves and CBS Face Alligations of Sexual Misconduct." The New Yorker, August 13, 2018.
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2018/08/06/les-moonves-and-cbs-face-allegations-of-sexual-misconduct

5.  Martin, Gary. "'Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely' - the Meaning and Origin of This Phrase." Phrasefinder. Accessed July 28, 2018. https://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/absolute-power-corrupts-absolutely.html

6.  Eldred, Mark. "God in My Pocket." Sermon, 4 O'clock Worship, The Fourth Presbyterian Church, Chicago, July 26, 2015.
http://www.fourthchurch.org/sermons/2015/072615_4pm.html

7.  Friedman, Zack. "Why Warren Buffett Just Donated $3.4 Billion." Forbes.com, July 19, 2018. Accessed July 28, 2018. https://www.forbes.com/sites/zackfriedman/2018/07/19/warren-buffett-bill-gates-charity/#59a45d3e3e36

8.  "A Quote by John Wesley." Goodreads. Accessed July 28, 2018. https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/12757-do-all-the-good-you-can-by-all-the-means

“Killing the Messenger to Make Way for the Message” - Pentecost 8B

The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost
Saint Timothy Lutheran Church

Saint Mark 6:14-29

One of the weirdest production in all of opera is Richard Strauss’ “Salome” which tells the story of today’s gospel in a dramatic and ghastly fashion.

In its concluding scene Herodius, Herod’s brother Philip’s wife, whom Herod had taken as his own, and who, herself,  holds a grudge of unrequited love against the Baptist dances for the King at a party.  It is the famous “Dance of the Seven Veils.”

So overwhelmed is Herod by her beauty and the pure sensuality of the dance that he offers her anything she would like, even half of his kingdom.

Instead, she asked for the head of John the Baptist on a platter.

In the Lyric Opera production I saw they did not pull any punches.

The head was presented to her exactly the way she asked for - on a silver plate.  When I first saw it it looked like a dead cat but it was a lifelike head.

Here is the point where those of you who are faint of heart may want to check out.

Herodius, picked up the dismembered head and began to dance with it.  She didn’t hold it out at arms length but danced with it.  She held it, and caressed it, and whirled around with it, and finally, she kissed it.

At this point, much to the relief of every audience member, Herod points at her and yells: “Kill that woman!”  We all thought it was a very good idea.  The curtain fell, the lights came up, and the audience applauded more in relief that the nightmare was over than in appreciation.

When we arrived at the bar downstairs the server asked me if he could get me something to drink and I replied, “Believe me, you don’t have enough.”

The whole experience did remind me, in a very vivid, way just what an evil character Herod was.  He wasn’t just deplorable.  He was a one man basket of deplorables.  What makes him so despicable is not so much what he did but whom he did it to.
The whole experience did remind me, in a very vivid, way just what an evil character Herod was.  He wasn’t just deplorable.  He was a one man basket of deplorables.  What makes him so despicable is not so much what he did but whom he did it to.
Body
John the Baptist had made the mistake of challenging Herod’s authority.  “He stopped preaching,” as they say in the south, “and got to meddling.”  He called into question Herod’s relationship with his brother’s wife.  The king did not kindly toward this interpersonal interference and decided that his opponent should be locked up.  (Good thing that in the 21st century our politics have risen above this kind of rhetoric.☺)

So there John the Baptist sat until the fateful moment came when, on impulse, and as a favor to his mistress, Herod orders the Baptist’s beheading.

At this moment, Herod was only acting as he always had acted.  He always took his wrath out upon the weak.

Remember after Jesus was born and three Magi came from the east and mistakenly stopped at Herod’s place to tell him of the birth of a new born king.  Herod irrationally acted out and ordered that all males two and younger in his kingdom be slaughtered lest they be a threat to his peace and stability.  It was the ultimate child separation policy.

As was Herod’s order to execute three of his sons when they became a threat.  And, even worse than that, he ordered, “at his burial one member of every family was to be slain so that he nation might really mourn.”1

Herod never worried about the implications.  If he was threatened he fought back but only against societies most vulnerable.  When Herod stood face to face with Jesus it was an entirely different story. 

He had feared Jesus for a long time.  He thought he might have been the Baptist brought back to life.  He wondered if he wasn’t one of the prophets who had returned.  At Jesus’ trial he has the chance he had longed for.  With Jesus in front of him he has the power to face the one he feared.  He had the same power over Jesus that he had over John.  It was the power of life and death.  But Herod also feared the crowds - he was a prisoner of public opinion.

What Herod does at this moment of truth is cave.  His soldiers mock Jesus, put a gorgeous robe on him, and then send him back to Pilate.  Herod had, as they say in Washington, “kicked the can down the road.”

There is no bravery here, men and women.  Herod was a coward.  He was afraid of a baby born in Bethlehem.  He was afraid of magicians from the east.  He was afraid of his wife and his mistress.  He was afraid of the crowds that followed John the Baptist. He was afraid of anybody who challenged him.  He was afraid because he was a fraud.  He was afraid because he wasn’t as smart as he liked to pretend he was.  His was afraid because he knew that someday, someway, he would be found out.

Jesus has Herod pegged from the very beginning.  He knew he was coward.  Even though Herod had his cousin, John the Baptist, killed Jesus knew he was all bluster and bravado.  So when the Pharisees come to Jesus pretending to be his best pals and warn:  “‘Run for your life! Herod’s on the hunt. He’s out to kill you!’ Jesus said, ‘Tell that fox that I’ve no time for him right now. Today and tomorrow I’m busy clearing out the demons and healing the sick...’”2
That is what Jesus was all about and nothing was going to stop him.  That is what his followers are to be about and nothing should stop us.

Yes, for a time we may becomes afraid when a despot arises within our midst.  Yes, for a time we may become afraid when it looks like the world has lost its moorings.  Yes, for a time we may become afraid when it looks like the forces of evil are going to win the day.

That is just the time to look to Jesus and do what he did.  Reach out and include people whom others might shut out.  Reach out and heal people whom others might find unworthy.  Reach out and tell folks that they are not an infestation to be wiped out but very important people who should be included in.  Now is a time, now is the hour, to reach out and tell people that no one is vermin but that everyone is a child of God for whom Jesus died and for whom he loves.

Now is a time to live out the words of Edwin Markham’s simple poem:

“He drew a circle that shut me out-
 Heretic , rebel, a thing to flout.
 But love and I had the wit to win:
 We drew a circle and took him.3

How might that work?  How might that look?

In the midst of days, months, and perhaps even years of bad news cycles there was some good news.  In the midst of volleys on twitter and personal attacks by politicians.  At a time when all the current candidates for governor of this beleaguered state can talk about is who is paying less taxes or who has removed the most toilets from his million dollar mansion  (Bringing new meaning to campaigns that have gone down the drain!) there was something we could rejoice over.
 
A glimmer of hope came from a dark cave in Thailand where twelve young men and their soccer coach were rescued after 18 days while the whole world watched, waited, and prayed all sorts of prayers, to all sorts of different gods, in all sorts of different languages.

The acting governor of the province in which the accident occurred summed up the rescue perfectly as he praised the cooperation between rescuers from every nation.

“The situation went beyond being just a rescue mission and became a symbol of unity among mankind.” he said.  “Everyone worked together without discrimination of race or religion as the ultimate goal was to save the youth football squad.”4

Jesus came to save us all without any discrimination or qualifications!  Jesus came to heal the sick and cure us all from the demons of hate and mistrust.  And Jesus called us to follow him to do the same.

No need to lose your head over the matter.  Follow Jesus out into the light and the world will be a better place because you did.  Don’t you think?

 Thanks for listening.

__________

1. http://www.crossmarks.com/brian/matt2x13.htm 

2. St.  Luke 13:32-35. In The Message.  Eugene Peterson, trans.  (S.l.: Navpress Publishing Group, 2013.)

3. "A Quote by Edwin Markham." Goodreads. Accessed July 13, 2018. https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/8703-he-drew-a-circle-that-shut-me-out--heretic.

4.  Wright, Stephen, and Kaweewit Kaewjinda. "Team Flashes Signs of Recovery as U.S. Diver Details Cave Rescue." The Chicago Tribune, July 12, 2018, sec. 1. July 12, 2018. Accessed July 13, 2018.

"A Gracious World" -Pentecost 6B - 2018

The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
Saint James Lutheran Church

Saint Mark 5:21-43

“A Gracious World”

I would have served the woman. I would have baked the cake.

Those non sequiturs from two unrelated news stories almost sum up our national conversation - or lack thereof.

The first happened just one week ago yesterday (Seems longer, doesn’t it?) when the President’s press secretary was refused service in a Virginia restaurant, because of her staunch defence of the policies of her boss, which many find abhorrent.  

The United Methodist Church, of whom the Attorney General is a member, the Presiding Bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, Presbyterians and other Protestants have all echoed the sentiments of the Cardinal Archbishop of Chicago, Blaze Cupich, who spoke for us all when he wrote: “There is nothing remotely Christian, American, or morally defensible about a policy that takes children away from their parents.  This is being carried out in our name and it is a shame upon us all.”1

The Press Secretary apparently felt no shame - even using the Bible to justify her position - until she felt the embarrassment  of being asked by the owner of The Little Red Hen restaurant to leave.  She did and promptly went home to Tweet about it.  Social media lit up with people choosing sides.

If you have been listening, what I am about to say will surprise you.  I would have served her.

Were I her waiter, when I finished I would have left a little note on her table saying that she had been cheerfully served by someone who was gay.

And, remembering that I have had a full week to think up what I would have said if I were the owner,  I might have taken her aside and said: “How was the meal?  Did you have enough to eat?  Remember that when you sleep in your soft warm bed, with a full stomach, surrounded by your loved ones.  Remember that many children are sleeping this night on mats, covered by Mylar blankets, not knowing where their parents are.  Remember that when you close your eyes and say your prayers to the God whom you believe to be just.”

That kind of brilliance only occurs in movies, or sermons after some weeks thought.  But I still like to think that I would have served her.

And if I were the Colorado baker, who literally made a federal case out of his beliefs, I would have baked the wedding cake for that gay couple who wanted it because, as George F.  Will wrote: “A cake can be a medium for creativity. However, it certainly, and primarily, is food. And the creator's involvement with it ends when he sends it away.”2
The problem, my friends, according to Gary Varvel, in USAToday last Tuesday is: “Politics is the new religion for the left and the right. We've decided to characterize those on the other side who doesn’t agree with us as nonbelievers who don't deserve mercy or grace.”3

And today’s Gospel tells us, indeed, and the whole Gospel tells us, that this idea could not be further from the truth.  It is not 
Jesus’ way nor should it be ours.

The two people who approach Jesus in today’s Gospel could not be more socially diverse.  One, the man, is a respected leader of his community while the other, a woman, is an outcast from society on many levels. `Both risked much when they came to Jesus.

Jairus risked losing the respect of family and friends but the cries of his little girl far overshadowing public opinion.  Who isn’t deeply affected by the sound of a child crying?  The goal of every parent is to stop the suffering as quickly as possible.  Adults who have a heart do not make children cry.  They do everything in their power to stop the tears from being shed in the first place.

That is what Jairus does.  Forsaking all he approaches Jesus - a travelling rabbi and faith healer - and kneels before him.  Don’t miss that act, men and woman, Jairus kneels.  That is an act of worship.  It is an act that could make the respected man an outcast.  That is an act of devotion.  That’s an act of bravery.

 “My dear daughter is at death’s door.  Come and lay hands on her so she will get well and live.”4

Without asking about lineage or legality Jesus goes.  This is not a time for the finer points of law this a time to care about a child and   not just only this one child but all children.  Jesus is showing us the importance of children and the desire in the heart of God that they not be separated from their families by sickness or anything else.
 
While Jesus is on his way with a large crowd surrounding him, a woman presses her way toward him.  Her disease has made her an outcast.
 
For over a decade she may have been doctoring.  She may have tried everything there was to try.  From pinpricks to patient medicines nothing seemed to work. 
 
So she sneaks her way through the crowd with only one thought on her mind.  “All I need to do is touch him and I will be well.” 
 
You can see her, can’t you, making her way through the crowd.  She gets jostled, she gets pushed aside, but still she presses on.
 
Finally she is with striking distance.  She reaches out, touches him and feels some kind of strange and mysterious power rushing through her body.  “Can it be?  Did it happen?  Am I okay?”
 
Then her joy left her as she heard Jesus say: “Who touched me?”
 
Jesus is not a fussbudget or a germ-o-phobic he needs to show us something and if we get all caught up in the healing we will miss it.
Jesus wants to show us that God has this thing, this special spot, for anybody in need.
 
Jairus may have been wondering, “What about my need?  Why is he talking to this woman while my daughter is dying?”  And with this delay Jesus is also showing us something about God.  God’s care, concern, love, is not a zero sum game where some are winners and some are losers, it is for everyone.

Jesus has not forgotten Jairus and neither will he forget us. 

When all around it looks like it can’t get any worse.  When it looks like the powers of darkness will win the day, Jesus says, “Don’t listen to them; just trust me.”5
What if we acted like we trusted God above everything?  What if we trusted God to heal not only us but our land?  What if we all followed Jesus’ way and were gracious to one another?
 
Chicago Tribune columnist Heidi Stevens wrote well of what Jesus was all about today and every day.  He was gracious to the leaderless and those who have lost everything.  He was gracious to those who belonged and didn’t belong.  He is gracious to us!
 
Stevens asked:

If you haven’t made up your mind about immigrant families — families who’ve been separated, families who don’t know when or how they’ll be reunited, families who are being talked about with terms like “infest,” which we usually reserve for insects — I wonder if you can think of a time when you benefited from [from an act of] grace.

When your child wandered off in a store and a fellow shopper, rather than kidnap her, returned her unharmed. When you left your garage door open and a neighbor, rather than ransacking your belongings, closed it for you. When you lost your wallet and a stranger, rather than stealing your cash and your identity, delivered it to you untouched.

A time when you didn’t follow the rules, maybe even committed a crime — drove too fast, drank underage, took something that wasn’t yours, snuck in somewhere without paying — and you skated. Didn’t even get caught. Or got caught and suffered very little in the way of consequences. Didn’t watch your life and your family torn into unrecognizable pieces.

We’ve all had moments, haven’t we, when someone’s grace, someone’s gut instinct, someone’s split-second decision, kept our lives chugging along when they could have unraveled?6

Those people, those moments, have been signs of God’s grace which is something all of us are searching desperately for.

I find it more than ironic that there is a sign in the window of the Red Hen restaurant - the same place that asked the Press Secretary and her party to leave - that reads: “Love is the only force that is capable of transforming an enemy into a friend.”7
 
That is what Jesus was always doing.  He was always reaching out to touch people and let people touch him.
 
Maybe if all of us, from the leaders of our nation, to outcasts, and all of us in the middle our really followed Jesus’ example our lives, our neighbourhoods, and our country would be a better place. 
 
Who knows maybe all of us will be able to enjoy our dinner in peace and even be able to have our cake and eat it too?   Don’t you think?
 
Thanks for listening.

____________

1. Archdiocese of Chicago. "Statement by Cardinal Blaze J. Cupich, Archbishiop of Chicago, on the Administrations Family Seperation Policy." News release, June 21, 2018. Accessed June 26, 2018.

2. Will, George F. "Food for Thought." The Washington Post, December 3, 2017. Accessed June 26, 2018. http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1P4-1971162626.html?refid=easy_hf.

3. Varvel, Gary. "Bible Teaches Us How to Resist Anger, Be Civil." USA Today, June 26, 2018. Accessed June 26, 2018. https://www.usatoday.com/story/opinion/nation-now/2018/06/26/bible-uncivil-anger-civility-column/733678002/

4. St.  Mark 5:23.  (MSG) (MSG=The Message)

5. St.  Mark 5:36.  (MSG) (MSG=The Message)

6. Stevens, Heidi. "Can You Imagins a World Without Grace." Chicago Tribune, June 26, 2018, Life Style sec.

7. Varvel. loc. cit. 

"Real Identity" - Pentecost 2B - 2018

The Second Sunday after Pentecost

1st Samuel 3:1-10
Psalm 139
2nd Corinthians 4:5-12
Saint Mark 2:23 - 3:6

“Real Identity”

“Who are you?”

That is a dangerous question for a guest preacher to ask because your justifiable response might be: “None of your business!”

Yet, when you walked in this morning that may have been your first reaction when saw me standing in the narthex. “Who are you?” You might have asked along with a second question: “And what have you done with our pastor?”

I assure you she is fine. She is just taking this Sunday off.

Those of you with really good memories also might have seen me before worship and exclaimed: “Not you again!”  Rest assured I understand that reaction because I have heard it before - mostly from friends.

But here we are. You are wondering about me and I am wondering about you as people often do.

“Who are you?” Is the basis of most of our questions.

This is not genius but the question “Who are you?” is really asking about how you define yourself. Have you become defined by what you do, by your job or perhaps by your being without a job? Do you see yourself first and foremost as a teacher, as an investment banker, as an administrative assistant, as a full-time volunteer, as a scientist, as a police officer, as a professional musician, or as unemployed? Is it your job, your paid work, or the lack of one that tells you who you are? 

Or perhaps you are more defined these days by a major role you have in the life of another person or people. Maybe you know who you are because you are a care-giver, or you are a sister, or you are a father, or you are a daughter, or you are a spouse or partner. Maybe you primarily define yourself as a friend who keeps other friends afloat. Is it what you do for another that tells you who you are?

It could also be, though, that you are in a season of life where you find yourself defined by what you are no longer: you are no longer someone who works; you are no longer someone who has kids at home; you are no longer someone who is married; you are no longer someone whose parents are living; you are no longer someone in good health. Who or what tells you who you are?1

Today’s readings are all about identity. They are all about answering the question “Who are you?”

Samuel, asleep in the temple near an old, blind priest named Eli is about to discover who he is even during a time when the voice of the LORD was rarely heard.

No wonder he is asleep. Even if you are in the house of God near the Ark of the Covenant - the place where God presence was supposed to abide - if God isn’t speaking, or hasn’t spoken in a long time, there is no sense staying awake.  Why listen for something that has rarely happened? Why listen when there is nothing to hear?

I’ll bet that sometime or another what happened to Samuel has happened to you. You got out of bed many Sunday mornings and came to worship out of habit. Mind you, it is a very good habit to have, but you came hoping the music would be good, the sermon might be moderately interesting, and the whole thing would be over in an hour.

Then, much to your surprise, something happened. Some scripture that you heard a thousand times before spoke to you. Something the preacher said moved you. The fourth line of the third verse of a hymn touched you heart. Maybe even something called you, motivated you, into action.

That is what happened to Samuel. His wasn’t a warm, fuzzy experience. He was called to speak a word to the powers that had silenced the word of the LORD and tell them that God was still at work.

He wasn’t asked to do something easy. Samuel was called to challenge the princedoms and powers of his day.

Why was Samuel, a sleepy, young boy chosen?  I think that God saw something inside of him that others did not or would not.  God saw in Samuel a treasure in an earthen vessel.

Saint Paul says “we have this treasure in jars of clay.”2

A pastor friend of mine, The Rev’d Adam Fronczek, explained how this works perfectly.

On was his last night in Turkey he decided to treat himself to a nice meal. He ordered a testi kabob, which is actually a meat and vegetable casserole. The recipe is essentially exactly like ours for any kind of chicken, beef or lamb stew but here is the kicker.

In a traditional restaurant, like the one Adam was eating at, the dish was prepared in a clay pot or jug that was completely sealed. I’ll let Adam’s words describe the bit of culinary theater that occurred when the waiter brought his meal to the table.

[T]he waiter brought an empty bowl, and he took a meat cleaver, scored the pot near the top, flipped the cleaver over, exposing the dull side, broke the pot clean in two, and poured my dinner out in front of me.

 I was impressed, and ... also a little floored that they ruined a perfectly good pot every time someone ordered the testi kabob. 

 You probably already see Adam’s application. 

 Every time someone orders the testi kabob, a waiter illustrates a common understanding of Paul’s lesson in 2nd Corinthians 4: we have the treasure of Jesus Christ in clay pots...3

 But it takes someone to reveal that to us.

Another one of my favorite preachers and storytellers is the late Dr. Fred B. Craddock,  professor of preaching the Candler School of Theology at Emory University in Atlanta.  His is also a story from a restaurant only, this time, not from a faraway land but the Black Bear Inn, which afforded a panoramic view of the Great Smokey Mountains.  

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a man who he knew, Ben Hooper, the former governor, working the room as if he was still running for office.

Fred whispered to his wife, Nettie, “I hope he doesn’t come over here.” which is exactly what he did.

“Are you on vacation?” the man asked. “Yes,” Fred said, while under his breath he was saying “It’s really none of your business.” “Where are you from?” the man continued. “Oklahoma,” Fred responded. “What do you do there?” “I teach homiletics at a graduate school,” Fred remarked, hoping that response would either be confusing or would send him away. “Ahhh . . . ,” the man smiled, “so you teach preachers, do you? Well, have I got a story to tell you.” And with that the man pulled up a chair and sat down at their table. Both Craddocks groaned inwardly.

“I was born not far from here, just across the mountain, in eastern Tennessee. My mother was not married when I was born, and the whole community knew it, so I had a hard time.

“In my early teens I began to attend a little church back in the mountains called Laurel Springs Christian Church. It had a minister who was a great preacher, and for whatever reason, his sermons did something for me, to me. So I would go just in time for the sermon and leave before anyone had a chance to talk to me. I was so afraid someone would stop me and say, ‘What’s a boy like you doing in a church?’ 

“One Sunday, the benediction was over too quickly, and I did not have a chance to escape. Before I could make my way to the door, I felt this large, heavy hand on my shoulder. It was the preacher. I trembled in fear. He looked right in my eyes and said, ‘Son, who do you belong to?’ I did not respond, because I could tell he too, like all the others, was going to take a guess as to who my father was. A moment later he said, ‘Now just wait a minute. I see the family resemblance. Son, you belong to God. It is a striking resemblance. You are a child of God. I can see it so clearly in your face. Now, you get out there and claim your inheritance,’ the preacher charged, slapping me on the back.” 

The elderly gentleman paused, and Fred and Nettie realized they were holding their breath. He started again: “I left that church a different person. It was the single most important sentence I had ever heard. It changed my life. After all those years of not knowing, all those years of wondering, all those years of stares, he told me who I truly was.4

So I guess you and I do know each other after all.  From this vantage point I can see the family resemblance. I hope you can see it from yours too.

On the outside we may looked like cracked pots.  And some times we may act like a cracked pot but inside we are children of God. Inside we are followers of Jesus and because of that we are all his brothers and sisters, family. I hope you can see the same thing in my face that I see in yours.

The more I look the more I recognize you.  I do know who you are.

“Hello, my sister.” “Hello, my brother.” I should have known this right away - you’re my family in Christ.

Thanks for listening.

____________

1.    Kershner, Shannon J. ""Identity"." Sunday Morning Sermon, The Fourth Presbyterian Church, Chicago, April 29, 2018.

2.   1 Corinthians 4:7. [[(NIV) (NIV= The New International Version)

3.   Fronczek, Adam H. "'Jazz at Four' Sermon." Sunday Afternoon Sermon, The Fourth Presbyterian Church, Chicago, May 19, 2013.

4.  Craddock, Fred B. Craddock Stories. Edited by Mike Graves and Richard F. Ward, Chalice Press, 2001. 

Sermon preached at Irving Park Lutheran Church

Chicago, Illinois

Sunday, June 3, 2018

"No Trivial Matter" - Lent 4 2018

The Fourth Sunday of Lent
Martin Luther Lutheran Church

Numbers 21:4-9
Saint John 3:14-21

Long ages ago a priest friend of mine warned: “Never listen to a homily that begins with the question ‘Why is Father wearing green today?’” The green he was wearing could be red, or blue, or purple, or white and refers, of course, to the colors of the liturgical season on stoles worn by pastors and priests.  These are the last thing, Father Wilk maintained, people had on their mind when they came to church. 

They were thinking about other things: their health, the kids, their job, the car, countless other matters and the last thing that they cared about was the color of the pastor’s vestments.

That being said, I am going to ignore Father Wilk’s excellent advice and ask the question that is probably running through the peripheries of your mind this morning.  It is just a guess but I am guessing that many of you are wondering: “Why is our guest preacher wearing his academic robes for worship? 

Did somebody tell him that this  was a commencement rather than communion? Is he confused?”

I might be confused but when your very fine pastor told me that we were going to be using The Common Service Book as a part of your 100th Anniversary Celebration I decided to not only blow decades of dust off my old copy of that tome, and brush off my Old English “if it be thy pleasure,” but also dress like most Lutheran Pastors did for the better portion of the 20th Century.

It should be pointed out that while I am in period costume some of you are not.

People who went anywhere special in 1918 always dressed up.  Look at any of the old pictures you see of that time period. The women are in dresses and the men are in suits and ties.  It was the appropriate outfit for everything from church, to the opera, to going downtown, even going to a baseball game.

Imagine putting on your best “bib and tucker” and heading off Wrigley Field or Comiskey Park. While people would surely look at you strangely on the bus and “L” you would be assured of getting a lot of on- camera air-time as you sat with the less sartorially splendid multitudes in the stands.

But, believe this or not, academic robes have a point within the context of this sermon because of one small, seemingly insignificant event that happened within the context of the Reformation.

While Luther was in exile at the Wartburg Castle back in Wittenberg an academic back-bencher was coming to the forefront of the rebellion. His name was Andreaus von Karlstadt and he instituted radical reforms that continue to this day. 

He spoke the liturgy in German; invited the laity to receive both the bread and the wine; and on Christmas Eve of 1522 abandoned the traditional priestly vestments in favor of his academic robes.

Think with me for a second how someone whose name is barely known affected the worship that most of us grew up with. 

Bring out a the black Common Service Book and we can picture what the worship looked like and it had Karlstadt’s name written all over it.  Show us a red Service Book and Hymnal and we’ll be able to picture the church of that day.  A green Lutheran Book of Worship, disliked intensely by the black and red book loyalists, will bring about pictures of a changing church. And a cranberry (Not red but cranberry, I was told!) is painting a picture of a new, inclusive church.

I shall never forget the Sunday that the new pastor of the church to which I belonged wore an alb to lead worship.

The tenant who lived upstairs of me was sure that we were abandoning our Reformation roots and headed right back to Rome.  There was no question about it. With his chanting, and vestments, and sacramental ideas our new pastor was a papist. 

Many people paid less attention to what he said than what he wore.  That he visited the sick and homebound faithfully was less of a concern than which way he faced to celebrate communion.  They spent most of their time complaining about the little things he was doing wrong rather than the many big things he was doing right. 

Every time we do that we are giving into the tyranny of the trivial and today’s Gospel snaps us away from all that and forces us to consider the one thing that really matters.

It was something that mattered so much to Nichodemus that he arranged a middle-of-the-night meeting with Jesus to talk about it.

He staggered from his bed and went out into the really deep darkness to ask Jesus some pressing questions about life and how to grow closer to God. 

That’s what it is all about, isn’t it? That’s why you got out of bed even after losing an hour of sleep and dropped by this morning.  You don’t care what I’m wearing, you don’t care what your neighbor is wearing.  Judging from this vantage point, some of you don’t even care what you’re wearing.  You want to know what Nicodemus wanted to know: “How can I get closer to God?”

And Jesus replies in Eugene Peterson’s marvelous paraphrase, The Message:

Unless a person submits to this original creation—the ‘wind-hovering-over-the-water’ creation, the invisible moving the visible, a baptism into a new life—[creation] it’s not possible to enter God’s kingdom.1

So that’s it! All we have to do is submit?  Well, that’s half of it.

Like the Children of Israel surrounded by snakes we have to submit to God and remind ourselves that on our own we have made a mess of things.  Theologically it is called sin and sin bites. 

Sin kills if we let it but, in Christ, God has offered us a way out.  All we have to do is look up. All we have to do is to look to him.  All we have to do is remember that, like the snakes in the wilderness, our sins don’t disappear but their scars can be healed.

We will still, ever, and always carry the scars of all the things we have done and left undone. We will still, ever, and always remember that we have sinned against Thee (Not just the God thee, but the thees sitting next to us and around us) by thought word and deed.  All these snakes will be around us but we don’t have to wallow in our sins and let them devour us, we can look up and live.

But not just us.  The whole world.

Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up,[that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.”

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.2

As Dr. William H. Willimon, former Dean of the Chapel at Duke University and United Methodist Bishop, wrote:

Nothing we know of Jesus from John’s Gospel or any other suggests that he settles down with us, the faithful few. God loved the world.

Christ looks at every corner of the earth and slams down his fist upon it and says, “Mine.”3

It is not so much a matter of our trying to get close to God but the realization that God is close to us.  This irrational love that God seems to have is not just for us but for the whole world.

Presbyterians in preaching robes, Lutherans in their modest albs, Popes in their pageantry, Anglicans with their smells and bells, and the faithful across the street from us at St. Cornelius.  It is easy to believe that God loves them!

The hard stuff is believing that God also seems to have an irrational love for mullahs in their mosques and Jews at the wailing wall.  God seems to have an irrational love for Buddists and Bahi’s and even those who have no time for God at all.

God also seems to have an irrational love for national leaders who covet their neighbor’s wives and world leaders who covet their neighbor’s rockets.

God seems to want all of them - - all of us - - to be saved not just from our sins but from ourselves. 

God didn’t go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again.4

Christ didn’t come to save just you and me Christ came to save the entire world whom, for some inexplicable reason, God loves.

That is not trivial matter.  That is no trivial love.  But, then again, no matter how we are dressed, God is not a trivial God.

Thanks for listening.
________________

1.  St. John 3:5-6. In Eugene Peterson’s The Message. (S.l.: Navpress Publishing Group, 2013.)

2.  St. John 3:14-15. In NIV Study Bible: New International Version. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2012.

3.  Willimon, William H. "Loving the World with Jesus." Pulpit Resource, Year B, 46, no. 1 (February & March 2018): 30-32.

4. St. John 3: 16-18.  The Message.

“Transfiguration’s Intense Labor of Love” - Transfiguration 2018

The Transfiguration of Our Lord - 2018
Acacia Park Lutheran Church

Saint Mark 9:2-8

I was talking with a retired pastor friend of mine who also, on occasions, functions as a supply preacher for his denomination and he told me that it was not something he was comfortable doing because he didn’t know where the people were in their faith journeys.

This surprised me because he is not a glass-half-empty character but rather one of the kindest, gentlest, pastors I know.  He has that wonderful ability to establish deep rapport with almost everybody he meets and was a wonderful pastor to his very large congregation for over twenty years.
 
That being said, he just felt an inability to speak to the people’s real needs as a guest preacher.

The good news for you is that I love this. I love being able to come in, meet a fine new bunch of people, have some coffee, and most of all try not to do too much damage.  I also love exploring church buildings  looking at their architecture and finding interesting spots that make the place unique. (Even if those places are snow covered!)

My guess is that we should not have any problem relating to one another thanks to today’s Gospel for all of us have had mountaintop moments in our lives.  I’m willing to lose you for a few seconds here while you remember your own.

Perhaps it was the day you got married or the moment you realized that you had fallen in love.  Perhaps it was when you had scored that new job you had always longed for or were awarded that degree you had worked so hard to earn. Perhaps it was when you heard the doctor say about you or a loved one: “Your free of that disease. You’re going to be okay.”  Perhaps it is just that moment when you come in the door and your dog greets you as if you had been away on a long vacation and all you had been doing is taking out the trash.

We’ve all had a mountaintop moments and that is why I think Jesus has just as much to show us this day as he did for Peter, James, and John on their outward bound experience.


You all know that mountains are the traditional locations where God is revealed but they also can be frightening places.  Think about Moses on the mountain receiving the Ten Commandments amid the fire and smoke of Mount Sinai.  Think about today’s first reading where Elisha watches Elijah being taken up in a “chariot of fire.” 

Strange things happen when God is present and few things are more strange than what we have before us today.  It has been tempered by time and our yearly exposure but it is a strange story full of twists, turns, and hidden meanings.  That is as it should be when the kingdom of God arrives in full force.
 
Nobody quite knows why Jesus decided to go up the mountain or why he chose who he chose for the journey we only know that he suggests this excursion and they, perhaps with nothing better to do, go along.

We know what happens next.  Our translation only tells us that he was “transfigured” but others say “Suddenly his face began to shine with glory”1 ... “His appearance changed from the inside out, right before their eyes.”2

The light wasn’t shining on Jesus it appeared to be coming from Jesus.

And his clothes. “(H)is clothes became dazzling white, such as no one[on one[on earth could bleach them.”3

The Rev’d Sue Eaves, Rector of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Richmond, Virginia pointed out something I had never noticed before. 

In the years before modern washers and dryers and uneatable Tide Pods, clean laundry was a sign of respectability that was a result of lots of hard work. She remembered her mother in England literally boiling the dirt out of clothing, lifting it steaming from the tub, running it through a mangle, and then hanging it in the sunshine until it was “dazzling white.” Dazzling clothes she said were the result of “an intense labor of love, and that was what Jesus was all about.”

That is what Moses and Elijah were all about too. Their lives proclaimed God’s intense labor of love for God’s people.

Labor requires movement. 

You and I know this from the last few days.  I spent an enormous amount of time looking out the front window and thinking about having to shovel snow. I had an good excuse --- I was writing this sermon! Still the only way to remove that snow was to shovel it. 

And so it was with Jesus. While chatting with the leaders of yore might have been exciting and enlightening still there was work to do. An intense labor of love was calling.

Peter didn’t hear that call and preachers have been giving him a beating for years over it.  We blame him for wanting to start a building program but he doesn’t do so to save the moment but to protect the moment.

Peter was aware of the history of his people and that history was one of a wandering tribe who when they wanted shelter from the storms or safety from the enemy pitched tents.  In a moment of insecurity --- which was certainly what the first Transfiguration was for Peter --- he wanted safety. 

In the midst of that deep desire there is an interruption. It is no less than the voice of God shattering Peter’s dreams of security and reminding him that an intense labor of love was calling.  “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.” booms the voice that we think probably sounded like Morgan Freeman’s and the disciples are wakened from their dreams.  For what Jesus says is, in essence, “Let’s go!”

Dr. Karoline Lewis, professor of Preaching at Luther Seminary in Saint Pail writes: 

But we try to stay where we are. That’s the safe option, after all. Same. Staid. Solid.  Especially when we see what we have known, on which we have relied, in whom we’ve believed all crumbling before our very eyes. Whether these disintegrating edifices are  our denominations, our democracy -- or our relationships, our communities, our country -- too often our only options in response appears to be pop up tents, quick fixes, provincial vision statements, or nearsighted adaptations --- none of which actually trust in a future that God holds.

This leads to another overlooked truth of the Transfiguration -- that what we’ve seen so far is nothing compared to what’s in store. The Transfiguration is no mere demonstration of God’s glory, but that which insists God’s glory will persist in the midst of and in spite of all that would point to the contrary.5

We all know of these experiences too.  Time when only an intense labor of love will do.

They come when we flip on the television news, or open up a newspaper, or even check our phones and the news feed gives us more challenges, more stress, more unhappiness. 

They come when we fall out of love  and perhaps things have gotten so bad that the divorce paper are signed. They come when your boss tells you that your services are no longer needed. They come when you received your first “F”. They come when the doctor appears at the door with a grim look on her or his face. They come when, instead of greeting you at the door, you find your dog with its head in the trash can.

Jesus leads his disciples down into the valley, into labors of love, to show that nothing less that God is present in all these places too.

Dr. John M. Buchanan, Pastor Emeritus of Fourth Presbyterian, wrote once:

We do our believing in those moments of clarity when God gives us experiences of sharp truth. We do most of our living on faith, on the path, in the fog, remembering the clear picture we were given, anticipating another one but, in the meantime, walking on in trust.6

The good news for today is that we have been to the mountaintop with Jesus and the even better news is that is not where Jesus wishes to stay. 

He is with us on our mountaintops to be sure but he is even more present with us in the valleys.   He is with us as we gather in place around his table but he is also with us at our desks, at our kitchen tables, in hospital rooms, and all the dark places in which we find ourselves.

Christ is with us as we assume our roles as partners with him in the all the intense labors of love that this world may toss our way.

That is what unites you and me this day. You, me, and even my preacher friend trying to relate. That is where all of us are. 

We spend our lives - all of us - alternating between mountaintop highs and valley lows.  Yet, we all are wrapped up in God’s labor of love - love for neighbor, for each other, love for the world because we know that Christ loved us to the point where he was willing to become involved in this messy business of living.

We give thanks that the words of the hymn are true.

 For Christ goes with us all the way,
 Today, tomorrow everyday,
 His love is never ending.
 Christ the living, to us giving,
 Life forever.
 Keeps us God’s and fails us never.

Thanks for listening.

____________

1.  St. Mark 9:2. (TLB) (TLB=The Living Bible)

2.  St. Mark 9:2. (MSG) (MSG=The Message)

3.  St. Mark 9:3. (NRSV) (NRSV=The New Revised Standard Version)

4.  Eves, Susan. "A Sermon for Transfiguration Sunday." Asermonforeverysunday.com. February 11, 2018. Accessed February 9, 2018. http://asermonforeverysunday.com/sermons/b12-2-transfiguration-sunday-year-b/

5.  Lewis, Karoline. ""It's Good To Be Here"." Dear Working Preacher. February 5, 2018. Accessed February 9, 2018. http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5057

6.  Lauermann, Connie. "One Magnificent Church." The Chicago Tribune Magazine, January 10, 1988.