Sermon 29 Jan 2017, Grace Lutheran, Chesapeake, VA

Texts: Micah 6:1-8, 1 Corinthians 1:18-31, Matthew 5:-12

“Adversity does not build character,  it reveals it.”

I’m a big fan of quotes.  I like to write them down for inspiration, and this one is in the top 5 of my all-time favorites.  The idea that adversity is not some test where we make ourselves better – building character – but rather it simply reveals what’s at the center of who we are.  That actually sounds a bit theological, doesn’t it?

But before I go there, let me pose this question to you: what is adversity revealing about our society these days?  Now maybe you disagree with me, but I think we are facing quite a bit of adversity in our nation these days.  And that adversity is revealing something about our collective character. We’re obsessed with human character.

We’re preoccupied with human character: namely, the complete poverty of others’ character and the not quite as impoverished state of our own.   I think we see that playing out in society….on a large scale, it’s over the social and political issue of the day.  Or on a smaller scale, it’s that random driver who doesn’t let us merge onto I-64 on the way to work on any given day.  (Ok, that’s really about me….but I’d like to think I’m not the only one!)

Here’s the thing: this obsession, this preoccupation with human character colors our worldview, how we see things. It also colors who we interpret things…..take scripture, for example.  Take our texts for today.  If we think they only reveal something about human character, then these texts are either a definitive list of who’s side God is one or a set of rules to make ourselves better people, namely, a better Christian. The Beatitudes in Matthew, the call to “love kindness, do justice, and walk humbly with God” in Micah, and the “wisdom of suffering” in 1 Corinthians are nothing more than ways to validate ourselves while at the same time cast absolute judgment on others.

I had a conversation with a friend of mine this past week about the joys and valleys of marriage.  He and his wife have been fighting over the past couple months.  At first, he was judgmental, pointing out to his wife the ways she wasn’t measuring up.  That in turn led to him beating himself up, and thus trying to please his wife…but really trying to absolve himself of his guilt, which would eventually make him feel resentful and the cycle would begin all over again.  The cycle: character assassination, which lead to character suicide, and then circling back and repeating itself.  It drove my friend and his wife further and further apart.  But then my friend had a revelation: he decided to stop trying to please his wife, and please God instead.  When he did that, he remarked, things got better in their marriage.

Now, my friend is Pentecostal, so my cynical, Lutheran side says “it’s not that simple; it’s never that simple!”  But what if today’s texts are not so much fixated on our character, but rather the revelation of God’s character?   It is a God who loves kindness, a God who is just, and who humbles Godself in in Jesus Christ in order to walk with us.  It is a God who blesses people in their weakness and vulnerability, not their self-seeking and self-sufficient ways, blessing them in the recognition of their own poverty of spirit and body.  It is a God who regards vulnerability and weakness as power that draws us closer to each other and to God. God’s character in the face of adversity is total, unconditional, complete love, mercy, and grace for those who know all too well the impoverished nature of human character.

Which brings me back to the adversity we face these days. A new President has been sworn in and already in his first week in office the country is deep in controversy that’s revealing the darker side of human character: injustice, hate, fear, and violence towards others.  There are a lot of preachers this morning, and rightly so, who are boldly proclaiming to their congregations to take a definitive stand against injustice and hate,  telling them exactly what that looks like and what is Christian or unChristian.  Funny thing is, that message sounds exactly the same from both sides of the argument.  It an obsession with human character.

Well, I’m not going to do that this morning.  I’m not that good of a preacher to pull it off but if I’m really being honest, it’s because I realize the own impoverished state of my own character.  Life is complex, life is messy, decisions have consequences we and others have to struggle and live with, often for a long time.  So as I thought of what I could offer you this morning, I thought the best thing I can do is leave you with this question:

What would it mean as people of faith – both individually and as a community – to fixate on God’s character?  It probably doesn’t lead to a whole lot of answers, but in my relatively short life I’ve learned this much: when we receive God’s love, we become more capable of loving others.  When we receive God’s mercy, we become merciful towards others.  When we accept God’s justice, we in turn become more just towards others.  When we accept God’s graciousness, we become more gracious towards others. We become less fearful, and much less fixated on our own goodness and the not-so-goodness of others.  We fixate on the character of God….and our character is changed.  

What would it mean to fixate on God’s character?  In the face of injustice and hate, perhaps our words and actions reveal the very character of God.  In the face of adversity and all the uncertainty of what we should do….perhaps that is enough.  Amen.

Leave a comment

Filed under Sermons & Preaching

Sermon 11 Dec. 2016 at St. Timothy Lutheran, Norfolk, VA

Text: Matthew 11:2-11

“Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?”

In 2009, I had my answer to that question: the one had come.  The circumstances were right, the pieces in place, my hopes and the hopes of those I was living around were going to be fulfilled: Brett Favre had come out of retirement to play Quarterback for the Minnesota Vikings.

krtphotoslive382149-sports-fbn-lion-brett-favre

At the risk of any Packers fans out there throwing stuff at me, let’s take a trip down memory lane to 2009: the Minnesota Vikings had a good defense and a solid offense with superstar running back Adrian Peterson. Preseason experts had picked them to be solid contenders to win the Super Bowl…..if the Vikings signed a great quarterback.  That’s when ol’ number 4 came out of retirement and Vikings fans everywhere thought: this is the season we finally win one.  Brett’s the one.  And it played out that way: the Vikings went 12-4 and made it to the NFC Conference Title game, one step away from the Super Bowl……and they lost.  Apparently Brett wasn’t the one, and Minnesota fan are still waiting to this day.

“Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?”

Sort of an odd question for John the Baptist to have his followers ask Jesus in this morning’s text.  This is the same John, who in Chapter 3 of Matthew’s Gospel baptized Jesus at the Jordan River, witnessing the heavens opening and the booming voice saying, “this is my Son, my beloved, with who I am well pleased.”  In fact, before all that happened, John recognized Jesus as the One, the long awaited Messiah, questioning whether he should be baptizing Jesus at all.  This is the same John who has witnessed and heard about Jesus’ miracles….yet he asks his question: are you the One?  Jesus reassures him: the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor receive good news.  Yet, I wonder, why ask the question at all?  I can imagine that being thrown in prison, John had his doubts.  We’ve heard that sermon before; Jesus wasn’t the Messiah they expected.  He wasn’t a mighty king, a military leader, or even a prophet.  Yet knowing that, there John sat in prison, waiting for his death.

Some 2000-plus years later, I wonder if we’re like John the Baptist.  We’ve been waiting for a long time, and while we know who Jesus is and we come here proclaiming our faith in him, are we any closer to the Kingdom of God?  Is life and the world any closer to be transformed?  It seems…the blind are still blind, the lame are still lame, people still don’t listen to each other and well, the poor are not just with us, but seem to be increasing in number.  And those who know Jesus….if you checked the news this morning you saw a Coptic Christian church in Egypt was bombed, killing at least 25 people.  Yes, in the world and in our lives….it doesn’t seem like much, if not anything, has changed at all.

So in this season of Advent, what exactly are we waiting for?

Back to the news….you may have noticed it, but the trial for Dylan Roof began this week.  For those who don’t recall, Dylan Roof was the young man who a year ago last summer walked into Emmanuel AME church in Charleston, SC where a group of people were holding a bible study.  Roof sat down with the group for 45 minutes, saying little….and then pulled out a handgun and shot every person in the room, killing nine of them after it was all said and one.  He shot them…and then we calmly left the building until he was caught.

During his interrogation with the FBI, Roof calmly and coldly described how and why he killed the people at Emmanuel that day.  Dylan Roof, who was white, and his victims, who were black.  Dylan Roof, who grew up and was a member of an ELCA congregation in Columbia, SC.  I have to admit I find the whole event beyond just tragic.  It’s disturbing and horrifying.

My wife Kelly and I were discussing the trial this week, but not so much of whether or not Roof was guilty – it is obvious to us that he’s guilty – but whether or not he should get the death penalty.  My wife and I both agreed that Roof should be put to death, and sooner rather than later.  Our rationale was what value would there be in putting him in prison for life, wasting tax money? And what value would there be in an appeals process since he gave his confession?  It was a bit surprising, considering that my wife is much more compassionate and progressive than I am.  But what I think was more surprising was what I saw in myself.

It’s hard to say this, but that scares me.  It scares me that I could so easily condemn someone to death, and completely rationalize it with little struggle.  It scares me when I really examine and look into my own heart I find it so easy to harbor a feeling so dark towards a person who is flesh and blood just like me.  I don’t want to debate the use of the death penalty and I don’t think there’s no consequences for what Dylan Roof did and the ongoing problem we have with race in our nation.  I just think, whether it’s Dylan Roof or the people at Emmanuel AME or whoever I so quickly judge and place in categories, maybe I’m the blind one, the lame, the deaf, and the unclean.  Maybe I’m the one who like John is in prison…..and like John I’m in need of the One who can liberate me.  I am in need of a Savior, because the truth is, I need saving….from myself.  And maybe when you examine your own heart, it’s that way for you too.

Perhaps the season of Advent isn’t simply waiting and celebrating a baby born over 2,000 years ago. Advent is waiting – no, longing – for the One to come and transform us.  We long in the deepest parts of our soul to have our sight restored, our ears opened, and for a light to shine in the midst of our darkness and our world’s.  We long and we hope beyond all hope for the One to come who shares our humanity and who is our joy….so that we might know our humanity worth saving, the categories and judgments we pass on each other so easily do not overcome us, but that the One we have been waiting for transforms us RIGHT NOW.  Amen.

adventweek3

Leave a comment

Filed under Sermons & Preaching

Sermon 6 November 2016: “Post election, post-traumatic stress” 

Text: Like 6:20-31

 This past week I was attending a Conference out in San Diego, learning about mental health and care to currently serving and veterans of the Navy Special Warfare community. One of the highlights was hearing Sebastian Junger, journalist and author, who covered military operations on the ground in Bosnia and the Korengal Valley in Afghanistan, speak. He told a story about how while he was back Stateside, he was on the subway going home like any other day, and all of a sudden he began to fear for his life – his heart racing, terror sinking in because he was on the moving subway car and couldn’t get off. He felt trapped. He said he knew in that moment that it was like any other subway ride home, and there was not threat to his life, but the feeling of fear still gripped him. That event, Junger realized, was the culmination of a lot of changes that friends had been noticing in him since he returned home from covering war. He had post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD.

 Junger began to study PTSD – his own and others returning from war. He said, “What if long-term PTSD is less about what happens on the combat field but more about the society they come back to?” During his recovery, Junger observed a big reason for PTSD isn’t the trauma of the war experience itself so much as it is the trauma of coming home to a “peaceful” society, only to find people act with so much hatred and contempt for each other. What’s traumatizing is that men and women come home from war, having formed tight connections with others in order to survive to a individualistic society where people are left to fend for themselves. That isolation, that is what is traumatic. 

The last verse of today’s gopsel text has been haunting me all week: “Do to others as you would have them to do you.” Because I ask myself, “How are we doing as a society these days, especially over the course of this year’s Presidential election?”

We’re obsessed with self-preservation and the illusion of safety.

We’re more paranoid and suspicious people and things different from us.

We talk at and over each other rather than with each other.

As contempt for those who disagree with us grows, so does bullying and intimidation.

Collectively,
 we’re less empathetic.

Junger might be on to something…and while I’m not equating the toll PTSD is having on our service men and women who come home from combat, I think we are suffering from our own form of post-traumatic stress. And it’s not because of the Election or the candidates themselves, but rather the increasing and collective contempt, division and loneliness that been allowed to exist. I think about how as a society we’re living out “Do to others what you would have them do to you”…. and it’s not good. 

 About a year ago, my wife Kelly came home from yet another frustrating day at her job. The work environment was toxic, and she came home and started venting about it all. I had been listening to this for about a month now, and frankly, I had begun to grow tired of it. So I began to subtly interject suggestions to make it better – talk to her boss, call out her co-workers on their behavior, or take an extra hour at lunch. She at first politely rejected my suggestions, and then began to just completely ignore them, but getting more and more agitated as I interjected more forcefully. Finally, Kelly had enough:
“Just stop! I don’t need you to fix anything; I just need to know you’re on my team. I just need to know I don’t have to go through this alone.”

 There’s a trap lying for us in Luke’s Beatitudes – if we break it down to categories of rich and poor, woeful or blessed, then we’re either given a set of guidelines for good conduct in which we can improve our status with God or we’re told to just accept our poverty in the hope that we’ll go to a better place after we die. Things just need to be fixed – either by Jesus or ourselves, depending on who you ask. We just have to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, check the right box on Tuesday, or do nothing – and we come here once a week to escape it all. But I think Luke’s Beatitudes aren’t a mandate to better behavior but rather a confession – the confession that we all have need.

 We have a need to know that we’re not left to suffer alone. We have a need…..to be connected.  

We have need for love.  

 And that love is one that suffers with and for another. A love that bears all things, endures all things – together. Love as God in Jesus Christ has suffered and loved us first. In other words, suffering love. If we are to live, I mean really live togther, then suffering love is the only way. Suffering love is the only way we can be healed, the only way that we can be set free, the only way we can be saved.  

 Another way to translate Jesus’ words is “Do FOR others as you would have them do FOR you.” That makes more sense to me. That sounds more like a connection. It sounds like what Jesus does for us. It sounds more like suffering love.

And as we celebrate Christ does for us, and what Christ has done in the lives of all the saints we celebrate today, let us revisit the Beatitudes in this way: 

 Woe to those who don’t recognize need in others, for their need will go recognized. In their contempt, divided and alone they will be.

But Blessed are those who recognize the needs of others, for their needs will recognized. Rejoice then, in that connection, for that connection the One who has suffered and endured for us is with us….healing us. Freeing us. Loving us. Saving us. Amen.

Leave a comment

Filed under Sermons & Preaching

Homily on the Importance of Remembering

Text: 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

I delivered this reflection at my Naval Academy 15-year class reunion.  We held a memorial service in the USNA Chapel for our classmates who have died over the years.  Their names:

Steven Adelman
Kelly Haney
Robert Jenkins
Landon Jones
Jason McCray
Bret Miller
Christopher Wilson
Ronald Winchester

Rest eternal, Shipmates, and may perpetual light continue to shine on you.

15 years….15 years ago we graduated from this place, heading out to “forge a new millennium;” our class motto.  Then about three months later, fateful events happened on September 11th, and everything changed.  As I thought about what I’d say here today, I realize that we celebrated the 15th Anniversary of 9/11 last month. As a nation we have been at war, conflict, or whatever you want to call it, essentially the entire time after we graduated from the Naval Academy.  Who knew 15 years ago this would be the new millennium we’d be forging.

And here we are today, to celebrate reunited, to laugh, catch up on where we’ve been, where we’re going, who has kids, who’s a little grayer, a little thicker around the middle, and who still looks like they did 15 years ago.  I think Tim Stabbing’s still running a sub 8 1.5 mile these days!  So we remember…..I remember.

I remember standing Company Mate of the Deck Plebe year, explaining chemistry to Jason McCray, and Jason explaining his defensive line assignments for the upcoming game that week.  To this day, I’ll never understand how Jason could master all those complex defensive calls, but couldn’t figure out chemistry! I remember Youngster year walking around with Bret Miller in New York City, both of us completely lost because we grew up in small towns, totally drenched in our own sweat because that’s what wearing cotton summer whites in the middle of summer will do for ya.  I remember spring Firstie year, Hoot Stahl coming up to me and saying, “Fuller, you’re a wrestler…we gotta cut weight to get within standards, and so we figured you could give us some tips.”  And later, there was pretty much all the Firstie lineman, in my room, taking tips on how to lose 50 pounds in three weeks.  While my memory isn’t that great, I’m pretty sure Ron Winchester was there.

We remember, and it’s important to remember.  It’s important to remember because the truth is, there is still a piece of me that looks at our world and nation and the last 15 years and when I think of our classmates who have died darkness creeps in and erodes away at any sense of joy in this life.  Remembering is important because when we take the time to do so, God does renews us from within, taking the sadness and pain and cynicism and replacing it with a sense of thanksgiving, gratitude, strength, and hope.  Our souls are renewed, bringing a peace that only God can give.

And so this weekend, as we celebrate reunions, let us take time to remember, and in a bit remember our classmates who will never be with us again in this life by reading their names and sounding a chime.  We remember, we are healed…and for the gift of remembering, let us say thanks be to God.  Amen.

Leave a comment

Filed under Sermons & Preaching

The Politics of the Pulpit: Preaching on Sunday, 9/11

September 11th, 2016 will be somewhat of a rarity for preachers: it is the 15th Anniversary of the tragic events of 9/11. For most of us, we can recall what happened and where we were on that morning in 2001. Some have called it our generation’s defining event, much like the attack on Pearl Harbor and the Vietnam War was for their respective generations.

However, it’s defined us in a completely different way. We’re not like the Pearl Harbor generation, who collectively rallied together as a nation in support of the nation’s involvement in WWII. Yet we’re also not like the Vietnam War generation, who collectively divided as a nation to its involvement overseas. I’d like to think today we’re somewhere in between. Instead, we have collectively rallied together as a nation – and caught a case of amnesia.

Perpetual war and violence has become our new normal. Two articles I read recently highlight this: one by a retired general suggesting that there is no endpoint to the post-9/11 war, and another explaining that the devastation in Louisiana has received little attention because ratings show we’re more captivated by who the next President will be, rather than another story about death. News about war and violence have become just another news article to post on social media, a footnote in our lives rather than a reality that shakes it and turns it upside down. However, I don’t think it’s because the majority of us have become indifferent and apathetic. Perhaps the reality is so painful that instead, we push it completely out of our consciousness. When someone does bring it to the center of our community, the result is conversation often turns into a fight over ideology where fingers are pointed, lines are drawn, and a war of words ensues where no one wins.

It’s no wonder that we then get political about the pulpit.

We get political about what we say because we’re always measuring the effect our words will have on our hearers. A good number of pastors and preachers do this as a means of good pastoral care. Yet it’s a completely different thing when one weighs the effect in terms of personal risk and cost. One only has so much social capital they can draw from, and one divisive comment or topic from the pulpit can bankrupt you in a moment’s notice. Having amnesia ourselves as preachers becomes an enticing alternative when faced with prospect of addressing 9/11, the following war, and violence on a Sunday morning. A colleague posted on social media: “Just like the Sunday near Veterans Day or Memorial Day or July 4th, ignoring it [9/11] is a missed opportunity. Yet over-doing it risks the idolatry of patriotism masked as religious faith.” It’s a delicate line and the stakes are high for one’s ministry. What’s a preacher to do?

I ask you indulge me in a bit of testimony: as I sit here and write this, I realize that I have 15 years of service in the United States Navy as a Submariner and Chaplain. My whole Naval career has been spent at war, and I recognize I have classmates, shipmates, and friends who have died in combat, died in training, and live, but do so bearing scars and wounds both on the outside and within. It is a sobering reality, but I at least know this: it’s real.

What’s not so real to me is when I take off my uniform and join society around me. To see the rest of the nation living as if war and its effects don’t exist creates a tension that’s difficult to live in. From time to time I receive a “thank you for your service” or someone buys me a cup of coffee, but overall life outside the Navy feels odd, disconnected, artificial, and lonely. I suppose that’s why I’ve stuck around as a chaplain; because I think the best part of my day is when the service men and women who frequent my path share with great honesty their stories, struggles, and experiences. They share why they chose to serve – those reasons often connected to the events of September 11th, 2001 – and things  feel a bit more real for me.

And when I sit in the pew on Sunday, I need to hear more than just a petition in the prayers. I need to hear something from the pulpit, but not a word that romanticizes my military service as some sort of sacrificial act of Jesus-love. Nor do I need to hear a word that condemns the motivations and forces behind my military service as some sort of message of prophetic justice.

I need to hear about a God who is incarnate in the sobering reality of the last 15 years and likely the next 15 and beyond. I need to hear about a God who still comes to seek the lost and somehow is still present long after the fantasy of Eden vanishes from our sight. What I need to hear is that there is a community outside of the uniform I wear that doesn’t have amnesia when it comes to the reality of these last 15 years of war. I need preachers to be honest: both about the fact war and violence is a reality we can’t turn away from, and that it is a reality that God in Christ is fully present with us in.

That’s no easy thing for a preacher to do for reasons beyond just the politics of the pulpit. It would be easier for you to have amnesia that day. However, if there ever is a time to eschew the politics of preaching and to snap people out of their collective amnesia, this might be the Sunday to do it – from the pulpit. It’s likely people will be really listening….I know I will be.

The thoughts expressed in this article are my own and do not represent the Department of Defense, U.S. Navy, or Navy Chaplain Corps in an official capacity. 

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Culture & Social Issues/Ethics

Sermon 14 August 2016:The Problem of Loyalty

Text: Luke 12:49-56

Grace and peace from God our Father, and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. I’m a guest this morning, filling in for Pastor Harry and as a guest I come bringing peace to you! (Note: I picked this up drew it and started waving and pointing it at people!) 

9568074_1

I bring peace and unity, not division! I come to bring comfort, not uneasiness and fear!  Now perhaps you’re not really believing my message of peace….which might have to do with me waving this sword around and pointing it at you. Words of peace are pretty thin when accompanied by fear, aren’t they? In fact, it probably feels more like coercion; they feel more like a demand.  And it seems, at least to me, there’s a lot of those messages going around these days:

“Let’s make America great again!”

“It’s time to put a woman in the White House.”

“hashtag: [fill in the blank] lives matter”….filling in the blank how we see fit.

And Christians seem to be caught up in it as well: “As Christians, we need to unite and take a stand.”

I’m one of those people who likes to engage on social media, and I get drawn into some discussions online…..probably against my better judgment. At least that’s what my wife tells me! This past week I found myself in such discussion where a lady was asserting – no, insisting – that very last sentiment to me.  There’s a war on Christianity in America, and we need to rally together to make sure Jesus and the church don’t lose.  I pushed back on that notion because as a Christian, I just don’t think I’m at war with anyone.  In response to my pushback, she questioned my loyalty to Jesus.

A couple things came to mind as I hear Jesus’ words from our text this morning: one, we got it backwards.  He said, “Do you think I came to bring peace to this earth?  No, rather I come to bring division!”   I think Jesus is giving us a warning: there’s a danger when the promise of peace and unity is connected to a demand for loyalty. Yet there’s another danger here: if we somehow reason Jesus’ words as a challenge to where our loyalties lie, then the demand for loyalty shifts from humans to God. If God demands our loyalty in exchange for peace and unity, then it has implications for God’s character – who God is.  God is one who demands our complete and total loyalty – or else. And unlike the demand that comes from humans, the implications aren’t just for this world….they’re also eternal.

I wonder this morning if Jesus isn’t asking us where our loyalties lie, but rather Jesus is challenging the very notion of loyalty itself.

Some of you may have seen the movie “42”.  It’s the story of how Jackie Robinson became the first African-American to play Major League Baseball, breaking the color barrier in baseball. I re-watched the movie recently, and what struck me is that the rule about no African-Americans in Major League Baseball was an unwritten one.  Actually, it wasn’t a rule at all: it was loyalty to the long-held belief that Major League Baseball was and should remain a “white man’s game” and there was no place for the African-American in it.  Loyalty to that belief lasted until Branch Rickey, owner of the Brooklyn Dodgers, decided to sign Jackie Robinson – against the better judgment of his advisors and peers, and despite warnings and threats by many.  During the movie, it was apparent that Ricky wasn’t sure how bringing Robinson into baseball would turn out.  All he knew was that the loyalty to the idea that black players should be excluded from Major League Baseball was killing his love of the game. And so he took a chance, a leap of faith perhaps, on playing Jackie Robinson….and the rest is history.

The thing about loyalty is that comes at a cost.  We tend to judge and seek sameness, limping along fearing that if we let the unknown or that which is different into our lives, it’ll be the death of us.  But the thing about loyalty is that sides are taken, lines are drawn, and we entrench ourselves with the group.  All this sounds a lot like….war. And in war people take up arms, whether it be words, which do damage but have their limit, or what’s becoming too common in our world today, people are choosing to pick up real weapons.  One thing’s certain when it comes to war – pain and suffering.

Perhaps this morning, God isn’t demanding our loyalty. Instead, God invites us to be faithful.

Faith calls us to look beyond ourselves and our sameness to a greater world around us, a world that God created, loves, and redeems…all of it.  Faith calls us to a life of sacrifice and love for the sake of others – especially those we fear and things we don’t understand.  Faith calls us to stop doing violence to ourselves and others.  Faith calls us to run the race – not to win, but with perseverance. Faith is the call to trust – and nothing more.

In a time where powers and forces are preying upon our fears, creating paranoia, then demanding our loyalty under the premise of peace, let us look to the pioneer and perfecter of our faith – Jesus, the One frees us from the bondage of loyalty and its demands. Jesus, the one who is faithful to us….and that faithfulness is a promise that costs us nothing but gives us all – the very peace and joy and freedom we seek for ourselves, for each other, for our nation, for our world.  Amen.

Leave a comment

Filed under Sermons & Preaching

Sermon for 7 August 2016: Discovering Our Hearts…and God’s

Text: Luke 12:32-40

 Like a lot of kids growing up, I liked playing baseball. In fact, while a lot of folks who know me well think that wrestling has always been my favorite sport, I have to admit that baseball was my first love. I loved the strategy that went into it, and I especially liked it when I could be most active, where I could make the most plays and be the most involved.  

 And that meant that I was naturally drawn to playing catcher. I was actually pretty good at catcher – I picked up all the strategy and signals, I didn’t have a problem blocking balls in the dirt, and I wasn’t afraid of being hit by foul balls and occasional accidental swings from batters. Even in the hot summer sun, I loved donning the heavy catcher’s equipment because I was involved in every play and every pitch. All I ever wanted to do was be a baseball catcher, and my heart was dead set on that and nothing else.

 Only one little problem with that: I’m left-handed. For those of you who don’t know the game well left-handed catchers are a rarity, and don’t exist at the highest levels of baseball. The problem is that your throwing arm is on the same side as most of the hitters – who are right-handed – and because of that, they interfere with your ability to be an effective catcher.  That split second of delay is he difference between getting and out or someone being safe. 

The day inevitably came: I was told I could no longer be a catcher. I convinced my coaches, despite their better judgment, to let me try, and of course, at the higher levels I struggled because of being left-handed. I couldn’t throw any base stealers out and I just wasn’t very effective any more. I was mad, frustrated, and frankly heart-broken that I had spent all my time and energy into being a catcher just to fall short, and to really, lose my heart for the game. 

 “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” But so often, I think we get Jesus’ words flipped around and instead we believe: for where our hearts is, there your treasure will be also. I don’t necessarily think that’s wrong, but I wonder where such a life leads us. We pour everything we have and are into the expectations and desires of our hearts, thinking that we’ll find our true treasure. But what happens when our desires and expectations go unmet? What do we miss out on by investing so much into making our expectations and desires a reality? Perhaps we’re left with broken hearts. But more than that, such life out of our expectations and desires shuts us out from the mystery and wonder of God’s Holy Spirit at work, changing, transforming, healing us. Such a life…..is not a life of faith.

 From Death to Life is an organization founded by Mary Johnson in 2005. 12 years prior, a man, Oshea Israel, murdered her son. Oshea was arrested, and convicted of murder and was thrown in jail. Mary, holding a lot of hate and hurt in her heart, decided to take a major leap of faith: she decided to forgive her son’s murderer. That forgiveness didn’t happen overnight; 9 months after her son was killed, Mary sought out Oshea in prison, and at first, he refused to see her. However, over time, he gave in, and they met. A relationship began, and forgiveness was given and received….forgiveness that both Mary and Oshea has said repeatedly, literally saved their lives. They had chosen to invest much into the task for forgiveness, not knowing where it might lead. It wasn’t easy all the time. But in dedicating themselves to the task of forgiveness, Mary and Oshea rediscovered joy could exist again in their lives and that joy could exist in a relationship started in death. Mary and Oshea discovered their own hearts, and they found their hearts in each other.

Something for you to think about this morning: I think when Jesus spoke that verse, I don’t think he was giving us a command as he was giving as an assurance about who God is. “For where God’s treasure is, there will be God’s heart also.” In Jesus, God’s only treasured son who put on flesh and whose life was given for us, we discover the very heart of God, a heart that’s solely pointed towards us. God’s heart resides with and for us, because Christ is with and for us. Such an act, it can be reckoned to us as faith: God’s faithfulness to us.

 I wonder these days, with all the violence and division in our lives today if it feels like we’ve lost our hearts. In our longing we try to fashion something that might get it back for us…..but then things fall short of those expectations. When we invest all that we are and all that we treasure into such things as forgiveness, reconciliation, grace, service…..it doesn’t guarantee an outcome like Mary and Oshea’s and it does’t guarantee our desires and expectations will ever be met. In fact, we may never fully see the fruits of our labor, our efforts. But perhaps investing in that life – that is a life of faith, a life lived in hope of what’s unseen. Perhaps investing our treasures in that life of faith – we rediscover our hearts and together, we discover that we’re at the the very center of the heart of a God who has not left us. Amen. 

Leave a comment

Filed under Sermons & Preaching