September 2, 2010

Sermon August 29 — The Gospel According to Peanuts

MT 18: 1-4

Back in 1947, a young cartoonist by the name of Charles Schulz began drawing a comic strip known as “Li’l Folks.”  A few years later, in 1950, this strip became the better known “Peanuts,” whose characters reminded us of what it meant to be a child, and looked at the world through the eyes of a child over the next half century until the time of Schulz’s death in 2000.

As I understand it, the “Peanuts” characters and story lines were, in many ways, quite autobiographical.

Charlie Brown, the principal character in “Peanuts,” was named after a colleague of Schulz’s at the Art Instruction Schools in Minneapolis, where he taught art following WWII.

Like Charlie Brown’s parents, Schulz’s father was a barber and his mother a homemaker.

Schulz and Charlie Brown were both shy and withdrawn.

Schulz had a dog when he was a boy – although unlike Charlie Brown’s beagle, Snoopy, it was a pointer.

References to Snoopy’s brother, Spike, living outside of Needles, CA, were no doubt influenced by the fact that the Schulz family lived in Needles while Schulz was a young boy, having moved there with other family members to help care for an ailing cousin.

Schulz’s “Little Red-Haired Girl” was actually Donna Johnson, an Art Instruction Schools accountant with whom he fell in love.  He was planning to propose to her, but before he got an opportunity to do so, she agreed to marry someone else.

The character of Peppermint Patty was inspired by Patricia Swanson, a cousin on Schulz’s mother’s side of the family.

And the characters of Linus and Shermy were named for two of Schulz’s good friends – Linus Maurer and Sherman Plepler.

And then, in 1967, some of Schulz’s best story lines, combined with music & lyrics by Clark Gesner, opened Off-Broadway, featuring Gary Burghoff (of Radar O’Reilly fame from the long running MASH TV series) as Charlie Brown in You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown, running for just shy of 1600 performances.

When the show was revived on Broadway in 1999, the original character of Patty (not to be confused with Peppermint Patty) became Charlie’s little sister, Sally – making the core cast Charlie and Sally, Lucy and her little brother Linus, Schroeder, and, of course, Snoopy.  And through their daily activities, reflections, and social interactions, these six characters do an amazing job of exploring the various ins & outs of the human condition through the eyes of a child – or, as the case may be, 5 children and a dog.

Sally is the stereotypical little girl who is sometimes confused, can be mischievous – but not in a mean spirited way, and in general just loves life.

Linus is kind of the child-philosopher of the group, bringing what, at times, seems to be a somewhat adult-like reflective quality to the conversation or situation at hand.

Schroeder is the child prodigy, with a sensitive, creative, artistic (and sometimes playful) soul that tries to bring a bit of classical music appreciation to his kid cronies.

Lucy provides a mirror for those moments when we barge through life, thinking overly highly of ourselves, brushing aside those who may get in our way, and giving little to no thought toward the needs and feelings of others.

Charlie Brown brings to mind those people we have known, or times in our own lives, when our self esteem has taken a bit of a beating, and when life just seems to deal us or others one unlucky hand after another.

And who among us hasn’t had a pet at some point in our lives that we related to as if it was a human being … maybe even believing that it really could “talk” to us – and understand every word we said to it?

So … when Jesus said “… unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven,” was he saying we need to become confused and mischievous like Sally, or philosophical like Linus, or artistically sensitive and musical like Schroeder, or forceful and insensitive of the needs and feelings of others like Lucy, or insecure like Charlie, or maybe even more like – a dog?

 Well … even though I have always felt the best teaching occurs in modeling a desired behavior, through the characters we encounter in You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown, as well as in other Schulz “Peanuts” characters and storylines, we are reminded of the potential outcomes of our actions, positive and negative, and how those actions can potentially impact the lives of those around us – either positively or negatively.

So … what are some of the basic life and faith qualities that Jesus may be reminding us about in his “become like children” remark?

One, I think, would be humility.  As we grow up, we are introduced into a competitive world, with its fierce struggles and scramble for prizes and for first places that can cause us to leave our instinctive sense of humility behind.  In what I’m calling The Gospel According to Peanuts, Lucy stands at one end of the humility spectrum (or the lack thereof) as she steamrolls her way through life, and Charlie Brown stands at the other end of the spectrum with his total lack of confidence.  A healthy sense of humility would be somewhere between these 2 extremes it would seem to me.

Another life and faith quality Jesus may have been referring to is the reality of a child’s dependence.  To children, a state of dependence is perfectly natural as they realize they can’t face life by or for themselves.  Oh sure, there are those times in a child’s life when they spread their wings a bit and say “NO – I can do it myself!” – which is a normal part of growing up … but by and large, children are content to be dependent on those who love and care for them. 

If more people would accept the fact of their dependence on God, I believe a new strength and a new sense of peace would enter into our lives.

And then a third life and faith quality we sometimes lose sight of as we grow up is trust.  Most children instinctively trust that their parents will meet their needs.  When we are children, we don’t have the resources to buy our own food or clothing, or maintain our own home – yet we trust that we will be clothed and fed, and that there will be shelter and warmth and comfort waiting for us when we come home.  When we are children, we set out on a journey with no means of paying the fare, and with no idea of how to get to our journey’s end – but we trust that our parents will guide us safely there, or at least point us in the right direction.

As the storyline of You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown unfolds, these 3 life and faith qualities are explored – and much more.

And by story’s end, Charlie Brown and the rest of the gang come to realize that it’s really all about happiness in life … and that “… happiness is anyone and anything at all that’s loved by you.”  …..

Ya’ know … when I am asked about The God Is Still Speaking Players, as in “Why a theatre outreach ministry?” – my response is “I have found that theatre is sometimes able to touch a person’s heart and soul more deeply than the best crafted Sunday morning church worship experience.”

You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown opens this coming Friday evening for 7 performances over the next 2 weekends, with a special Labor Day Monday matinee to benefit the work of the Prado Day Center.  I hope you will plan on attending, as Charles Schulz’s wonderful “Peanuts” characters remind us of what’s really important in life, what it means to be a child, and the fact that no matter who you are, or where you are on life’s journey – YOU are a child of God … and you are welcome here.

September 2, 2010

Sermon August 22 — AWE FULL Worship

Hebrews 12: 18-29

Maybe you’ve seen this message on a T-shirt – the 3 words “Abreadcrumb” run together “& Fish” …strangely similar to the wording on a shirt from the teen retailer “Abercrombie & Fitch.”  The words send a subtle message about the biblical story of Jesus miraculously feeding the 5,000 with a “crumb” of bread … and fish.

Makes the miracle very hip … very happenin’.

Or how about the “iPray” hats that mimic the iPod logo?  Totally trendy. Also available for purchase are Christian versions of the Subway restaurant logo, the “Got Milk?” ads and the “intel inside” sticker.

Has Jesus gone Mad … as in Madison Avenue?

According to ABC News (December 16, 2009), American retailers sell more than $4 billion worth of Christian products annually.  Many are very original, but a good number are spoofs of commercial logos or brand names.  Many of these spin-offs are clear violations of trademark and totally illegal, but companies are either unaware that their names are being copied – or they don’t want to put up a fight because they don’t want to be seen as anti-faith.

Apple knows its sales won’t be helped by attacking an “iPray” hat.

There’s even a rip-off of a rip-off making the rounds.  Remember the “HOPE” poster from Barack Obama’s presidential campaign?  Journalist Jay Reeves reports that the artist got into a copyright fight with the Associated Press over the use of an Obama photo.  Now the poster has been Christianized, with an image of Jesus replacing the president.

Is this the way to keep hope alive?

Copyright issues aside, you have to wonder if these spoofs and spin-offs are really doing anybody any good … I mean, aside from the people selling them.  Church marketing consultant Brad Abare has seen a lot of them, and he’s completely unimpressed. His name for the stuff?  Jesus Junk.  He thinks it’s just dumb – “not a true reflection of creativity.”

Contrast these T-shirts, hats, posters and other pieces of Christian paraphernalia with the descriptions of God and Jesus found in the letter to the Hebrews.  “You have not come to something that can be touched, a blazing fire, and darkness, and gloom, and a tempest, and the sound of a trumpet, and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that not another word be spoken to them” (12:18-19).

God isn’t seen in clever advertisements, says Hebrews, but in fire, darkness, gloom, tempest, and a voice that can make a person cower in fear. Indeed, so terrifying was the sight of God’s presence that Moses said, “I tremble with fear” (v. 21).  Nothing cute about it.

Now some people may say that Hebrews is talking here about Old Testament wrath-of-God stuff, but the New Testament is different – marked by a kinder and gentler spirituality

Well, not completely.  God is still “the judge of all,” and Jesus is the “mediator of a new covenant” (vv. 23-24). Having once shaken the earth in the Old Testament, God now promises, “Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heaven,” which is to say every created thing in heaven and on earth will be removed, leaving only the one thing that cannot be shaken – the kingdom of God (vv. 26-28).

“See that you do not refuse the one who is speaking,” warns the writer. Pay attention to Jesus, the one who speaks to us; do not “reject the one who warns from heaven!” (v. 25).  And “since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us give thanks, by which we offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe; for indeed our God is a consuming fire” (vv. 28-29).

Do not refuse Jesus.  Give thanks, with an acceptable worship.  Show some reverence and awe.  …..  This is serious stuff.  Not Jesus Junk.

So what does it mean to pay attention to Jesus and not ignore him?  It means to take him seriously when he says to his followers, “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you” (John 15:12). Love is the avenue that leads to the kingdom of God.  But it isn’t always such an easy path to follow, and Jesus knows this, which is why he says, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you” (vv. 13-14).

Love one another, with self-emptying love.  That is Jesus’ message, what he calls us to do as his followers.  But this love isn’t a sweet, sentimental, romantic sort of love.  In his book What Jesus Meant, historian Garry Wills reminds us that Jesus preferred the company of the lowly and despised over the rich and powerful.  He crossed lines of ritual purity to deal with the unclean – “with lepers, the possessed, the insane, with prostitutes and adulterers, and collaborators with Rome.”  He sat down to eat with tax collectors and sinners, showing them a love that was anything but socially acceptable.

Self-emptying love remains a scandal today, and it can be difficult for us to carry out.  But it’s a pillar of the kingdom of God – one that cannot be shaken.  “Our test for entry into (God’s) reign is whether we fed Jesus in the hungry, clothed him in the naked, welcomed him in the outcast,” insists Wills.  “The Spirit that touched the Lord’s followers with fire at Pentecost leads them to cross all cultural barriers by speaking the universal language of love, which is the life of God.”

But the letter to the Hebrews doesn’t dwell on love.  It challenges us to give thanks with an acceptable worship, showing reverence and awe, “for indeed our God is a consuming fire” (12:29).  Worship isn’t meant to be a comfortable experience, but what German theologian Rudolf Otto found to be at the heart of all forms of religious experience – human contact with a fascinating, awe-filled mystery … an experience that was literally full of awe.

I believe we are in danger of losing this awe-full experience in worship – not awful as in “terrible,” but awe-full as in “full of awe.”  We’ve lost the sense that there is a gulf between human temptation and divine purity, between our finite nature and the infinity of God, between our selfish actions and Christ’s perfect love

True worship isn’t wearing an “iPray” hat, according to Hebrews.  It isn’t a time to be funny, clever, or cute, but instead a chance for us to have an honest and awe-inspiring encounter with the God who comes to us in Christ.  It’s time to turn away from worship filled with Jesus Junk and toward an experience full of awe.

Here is the cry of one young woman for some awe in worship: “As a young adult, I do not need flashy graphics, a loud worship band, projected images on a screen or a cool, hip and stylish pastor to evoke passion in worship.  Passion isn’t synonymous with loud, big and flashy. … I want to worship a Creator who formed the universe with a word and molded my very being from the fibers of the earth.  I long to sing praises to a God who shouts with excitement through the joys of life and holds me tightly, with mutual tears, in the pits.  I want to surrender all I am to the workings of a Holy Spirit who guides my movement in ways I never dreamed possible for myself.  I want to humbly bow to the most humble of babies who changed the course of history for eternity.  I want to lay offerings before a God who offered his own Son to wipe away the distance I continually place between [us].  I want to meet this Jesus over and over again, so maybe someday I will begin to understand the magnitude of a Love so grand, so extreme and so passionate.”

Awe-full worship comes in all shapes, sizes and volumes.  It can be experienced in a simple prayer service in a cool, dark cathedral … around a campfire, accompanied by the music of guitars … at the start of a church meeting, when prayer is offered … in a particularly heartfelt sermon in a sanctuary on a summer Sunday morning … at an alternative service revolving around a meditation on a piece of art.  Any of these experiences can be full of awe, but only if they provide an authentic encounter with the God who came to us in Jesus, to show us a divinely grand and passionate love.

If it opens our hearts and minds to the presence of the Divine, touches our souls and offers us strength and encouragement for the journey ahead – that’s awe-full worship.

And ya’ know what?  Sometimes how much “awe” we experience in worship is as much, or even sometimes more, about what we bring to worship, rather than what actually occurs in the worship service itself.

Something to think about.  …..

August 20, 2010

Sermon August 15 — Run The Good Race

Hebrews 12:1-2

Sharing something in common with the likes of Sir Isaac Newton and Benjamin Franklin might typically be thought of as a good thing.  But each year, more and more Americans are groaning in pain because of a connection they share with those giants of history.  You would, too.  Newton and Franklin both suffered from gout, an extremely painful and debilitating form of arthritis. According to various studies, cases of gout have doubled in the last few decades, with an estimated 6 million Americans suffering from the disease.  I had a flare up in my left foot and ankle when we lived in Iowa, and I take a half tablet of allopurinol every day to make sure it doesn’t happen again, because it was NO fun – let me tell ya’!  And those of you who have had gout – you know exactly what I’m talking about

Gout has been called “the disease of kings.”  Throughout history, it’s been seen as a disease afflicting mainly people who have access to opulent amounts of fine food and drink and who enjoy a more sedentary lifestyle.  For example, Henry VIII spent his final days barely able to move.  The famously indulgent, plus-sized king was bedridden and covered in painful boils – known to be side effects of a nasty case of gout.

Perhaps not surprisingly in modern America, where access to sugary food and a slower pace of living have led to higher numbers of people who are overweight and the occurrence of diabetes, it’s also brought on a resurgence of the same disease that left the likes of Galileo and President Teddy Roosevelt writhing in pain.  As a result, what was thought of throughout history as a disease for the old and aristocratic is on the rise among the young and the middle class. Today everyone would be wise to heed Benjamin Franklin’s famous warning: “Be temperate in wine, in eating, girls and sloth; or the gout will seize you and plague you both.”
           
Now, in reality, science has learned that the disease once called the “arthritis of the rich” actually results from a buildup of uric acid in the blood.  It isn’t caused by a lack of activity and unhealthy foods, but those things can aggravate and encourage it.  Nonetheless, there’s an inescapable and ironic aspect of the disease: it’s connected to one’s overindulgence in the luscious things of life, yet it ultimately can cripple one’s ability to enjoy that in which one overindulges.
           
Thankfully, the odds are in our favor that no matter our lifestyle, you and I will not get “the gout” – and if we do, it can be treated with relative ease and success.  But there’s a related spiritual disease many of us wrestle with.  It’s one that the writer of Hebrews, in today’s text, calls upon us to avoid.  He writes, “[S]ince we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us … ” Hebrews 12:1 (ESV, emphasis added).  We could call it a warning against “spiritual gout.”
           
The life of a Christian should not be sedentary.  It’s not about simply sitting and listening to a sermon on Sunday morning, passively reading a daily devotion, or sending up an occasional prayer other than on Sunday between 10:30 & 11:30 AM.  No, the Christian life is moving and working; it’s kinetic and dynamic.  As illustrated in the lives of Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, the children of Israel and all those mentioned in the verses leading up to today’s text, the Christian life is much more like a race.
           
God has called us into a life in which we’re actively seeking to love and follow God, no matter where that might lead us.  It’s a life in which we take every step full of faith in God’s goodness, and embracing the promises and teachings of Christ.
           
It’s a lifelong race in which the goal is twofold.  First, we want the world to see the power of Christ shining through us as we run – even through stuff such as cancer, career changes, financial struggles, and relationship stresses. Second, it’s a race run on the belief that when we breathe our last, we will be received into the eternal embrace of a living and loving God.
           
Now, all of that is lovely and poetic, but the truth is that in the middle of this race of faith, we’re each fighting a daily battle against becoming stagnant and “gouty.”  The writer of Hebrews warns us that there are weights that threaten to slow our pace, and temptations that cling to us, wanting to pull us off course.  If we sit back too long, if we’re too passive in our pursuit of God, we can become so burdened with worldly distractions and bound up by temptation that it becomes nearly impossible to move.
           
Have you ever been there?  Has your commitment to a life of faith ever been so weak that it’s honestly tough to even utter a prayer?  Has there ever been a time when it was hard to hear the Word of God without rolling your eyes? Or perhaps you know what it feels like to be so disconnected from the power and promises of God in Christ that even life’s simplest of struggles overwhelm you with fear.

           
THAT’S what I’m calling spiritual gout.  It’s born out of a desire to indulge in the surface stuff of life, while paying little attention to the Lord of Life.  It can end up crippling our ability to experience the peace, the joy, and the purpose God has in store for our lives.  Rather than running the race of faith, people who get this kind of gout simply feel stuck.  It’s no way to live.  And in the opening words of chapter 12, it’s as if the writer of Hebrews is saying, “Seriously, I know it isn’t easy out there.  But whatever you do, don’t sit back.  Getting passive in your spiritual life will only unravel it.  Remember that you’re in a race.  Run it with endurance!”
           
Thankfully, just as joining a gym and stepping away from the apple fritters can get us moving in the right direction physically, the Scriptures give us a number of steps to ensure we’re moving in the right, healthy direction spiritually. Let’s take a look at a few.
           
First, we have to focus on the timeless Truths of God that can be found in the Scriptures.  Running a race isn’t something you just jump into – not if we’re smart, anyway.  To be a successful marathoner, you have to go through rigorous training, preparing your body through diet and practice to take on the rigors of running 26.2 miles.  The same is true in our spiritual lives.
           
And training can be a bear.  Listen to what one athlete from the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver said: “Today I won not only a bronze medal for myself … I won a medal just getting to the start line.”  So said Slovenia’s Petra Majdic (PAYtruh MYditch) after finishing third in the women’s 1.4-kilometer cross-country sprint, despite breaking four ribs and puncturing a lung in a training accident earlier in the day.
           
Training can be brutal at times, and God doesn’t make it necessarily easy for us.  Yet the Word of God is where we are trained in a life of what w might call faith-racing.  Through Scripture, God reveals and redirects our steps.  God gives us a pattern for living.  But most of all, through Scripture God stirs up faith and, hopefully, strengthens our trust.  In 2 Timothy, we are reminded that “All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the person of God may be competent, equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:16-17, ESV).
           
Famous 19th-century British preacher Charles Spurgeon once quipped that he could find 10 men willing to die for the Bible for every one who was actually willing to read it.
           
If the only Bible we own is some gigantic beast of a book – you know … the kind that gets cracked open only when we need to write down when some family member was born or died – then we need a Bible that’s more reader friendly.
           
Second step toward spiritual health is to recognize that we cannot run this race alone.  We need to run with other men and women of the faith – in community.  Once we’ve obtained that new “reader friendly” Bible, it’s time to get connected to a group where you can study, read and discuss the potential life-changing power that can be found there (did I mention our Bible Study this Thursday at 6:30 PM?).
           
Patrick Morley suggests that human beings are a lot like redwood trees. Redwoods grow for millennia and reach as high as 350 feet.  Yet their roots run only six to 10 feet below the surface.  The only way these monster trees can stand tall and withstand the California winds is to grow close together, intermingling their roots.  They make each other stronger.
           
No man or woman was meant to live as a lonely tree.  To attempt to do so can be deadly.  We weren’t designed to run the race of faith alone.  Yet many choose to do just that.  Earlier in the book of Hebrews, the writer pleads with his audience – and with us, not to attempt life in this world as a solo act.  He writes, “[L]et us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.  Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another” (Hebrews 10:24-25a, NIV).
           
The fruit of fellowship in the race of faith is a spurring on, or a mutual inspiration, in the right direction.  When we run with others, we may even get an occasional loving smack on the back of the head when we’re tempted to weigh ourselves down with some worldly concern, and we’ll also hopefully receive encouragement and support when we’re feeling entangled in some distraction or temptation.
           
And then the last consideration toward spiritual health I’ll mention this morning is that all runners in this race of faith must move forward each day with their eyes on their champion.  Most successful athletes will tell you they draw inspiration for their own success from the success and story of someone they admire.  For example, why do so many of today’s NBA superstars want to wear Michael Jordan’s number 23?  It’s because for them, Jordan is the model of a basketball life well lived. and a player whose success and standards they themselves pursue.
           
Keeping your eyes on a hero who inspires us encourages us to keep running, calls us to a higher standard, and gives our heart hope on the hardest of days.  Too often, when we get spiritually stagnant and feel distant from God, it’s because we’ve begun to focus our eyes on other goals and other heroes.  We’re chasing after other hopes.
           
Put simply, in running the race of faith, we must keep our eyes focused on God, and the life and teachings of Jesus Christ.
           
Looking to Jesus, we see that following his lead doesn’t necessarily mean attaining worldly success, and may well demand some level of sacrifice and selflessness.
           
Looking to Jesus, we see there is resurrection for people who trust in his love.
           
Looking to Jesus, we see that he himself has already run our path to perfection, and now sits at the right hand of God, the Almighty – guiding and encouraging our every step.
           
So, how’s your faith-race going?  Are you full of faith and moving forward? Or, having sat back and indulged in trivial things, are you starting to feel “gouty”? Has paying little attention to your faith crippled your ability to experience the peace God desires for your life?
           
The life of a Christian is not sedentary.  So let us run the race and restore our spiritual health.  May we feast on the Word of God.  May we train with one another.  And may we be free of the spiritual gout that may be causing us to live a life of inactivity and fear.

August 15, 2010

Sermon August 8 — Twitterature

Luke 12:32-40

Twitter … love it, hate it, or just don’t care much?
           
The new micro-blogging megatrend gives users only 140 characters to post a message to anyone following their message feed called a “tweet.”  This sound-bite approach to “a penny for your thoughts” is a polarizing presence in our culture.
           
If you subscribe to Ashton Kutcher’s feed, you probably love Twitter … and I guess his 4.5 million followers make him the “top twit.”
           
If you’re an American literature professor, you probably hate Twitter.  Or you loathe it. Your revulsion is like 10,000 white hot suns of – oops!  Ran out of characters.
           
Twitter – we love it, hate it, or are waiting for it to go away.  But new users keep pouring into the service and finding new ways to apply it.
           
For example: Twitterature.
           
Two nineteen-year-old University of Chicago students have turned the classics from their English classes into a book of Twitter summaries.
           
Are these guys really too lazy to read the CliffsNotes?  As if the little yellow booklets didn’t abbreviate the classics enough, this new “genre” of “writing” reduces classic literature into multiple 140-character tweets.
           
Metaphor, parallelism, and thought development all yield to tip-of-the-tongue thought spewing.  A generation of writers and readers trade prose for e-grunt.  The book’s editor at Penguin calls it “huge books made ridiculously small; great stories told in silly voices.”

Hamlet … Of Mice and Men … Huckleberry Finn … Dante’s Inferno … and numerous other great works.  They’re all spoofed in Twitterature.  It’s classic fiction turned into Saturday Night Live skits.  But cleverly, the satire is on Twitter as well.  The authors’ summaries use sophomoric text-speak such as OMG!  and LOL, gratuitous swearing, and ALL CAPS TO EMPHASIZE A POINT!!!!
           
Hark!  What sound alights in our ears?  Perhaps it’s the ghost of Shakespeare moaning in anguish.  But come on, Will – it’s just plain fun.  And if nothing else, it’s a digestible short course on some complex works.
           
And that’s our connection to this week’s Gospel text.  It’s a short course on time … or more specifically – the end times.
           
Assuming you have an opinion on such things, how would you tweet about it without referring to the well-known bumper sticker: “Jesus is coming — Look busy!”
           
Whether you’re premillennial, amillennial, promillennial, or don’t even know what those words mean and don’t care, it’s a challenge to reduce the story of the fulfillment of God’s time in what we commonly refer to as “the second coming” into a tweet.  Probably can’t be done … maybe shouldn’t be done.  But our scripture passage for today is definitely a distilled exploration on the subject, and it may be helpful in reminding ourselves that this life is not all there is.
           
Now I suspect we would have a wide range of reactions when we broach the topic of end times, and could probably just apply our opening question to the subject – love it, hate it, or don’t care much?

Here’s a quick quiz to gauge our appreciation for concerns regarding this topic:

1. In what year did Nostradamus and the Mayans predict the world’s end?

A. 2012 (on December 21, by the way; I’ve seen three documentaries already)
B. It might as well be Y2K … again.
C. I’m bored – why are we talking about dead people?

2. Left Behind by Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins is:

A. My other Bible
B. Sitting on the shelf at Goodwill – where it belongs
C. A hit country song?

3. Eschatology (the $10 seminary word for end times) should be:

A. A major at all universities
B. A topic in the National Enquirer
C. Does this quiz count as the sermon, or is there more coming?

           
End-times theology: The A’s love it, the B’s hate it, and the C’s aren’t interested or don’t care.
           
But the fact of the matter is that any time we’re preoccupied, annoyed, or standoffish with some aspect of Christian theology, something probably needs to be addressed.  In this case, I think a couple of verses from our reading from Luke today are worth looking at to try and get a handle on this subject we don’t usually spend much time talking about in the UCC.
**  “Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit” (v. 35).
           
The parable tells of servants (us) waiting for their master (Christ) to return from a wedding banquet – normally an end times reference in Judeo-Christian literature.  Because “the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour” (v. 40), the servants are supposed to be prepared for his arrival at all times.
           
What might this kind of readiness look like in our lives?
           
In my observation, there are basically two types of people: those who keep a somewhat “less-than-tidy” home, shall we say, and clean just before guests come over (that would be me – and let’s not even talk about my office!), and those who generally keep their home clean all the time.  The first group does a lot of picking up at the last minute, or gets caught with a messy house when unexpected visitors drop in.  The second group does a little bit of tidying all the time to maintain a neat home that’s always inviting to visitors.
           
Are we doing Christianity at certain times, or are we being Christians always?
           
Do we have areas of needed growth that we’ve been putting off?
           
What does our lifestyle more clearly tell others: “This is all there is” or “I’m living for something more”?
           
Like the servants, are we eager for Christ’s return?  If not, why?  And if not, does that point to anything we’re cherishing more than our faith?
           
One pastor tells of his reaction when he thought his life was ending.  On a red-eye flight, he was taking advantage of an empty row of seats by lying across them without his uncomfortable seat belt.  The plane hit a massive pocket of turbulence and seemed to plummet instantly.  He flew up and crashed into the overhead compartment.  Lights on the plane flashed, and passengers were screaming all around.
           
Several seconds later, the plane righted itself.  The crew was visibly shaken and people admitted they honestly thought they were going down.  After regathering himself and buckling up, the pastor sat surprised by his knee-jerk reaction.  In the moment of believing he was about to die, he didn’t feel any fear – just a wave of peace and acceptance.  Though his life was really fulfilling here, he knew he’d be headed “Home.”
           
It’s a noninstinctual response.  None of us has that reaction in the moment without time spent developing a deeply held eternal perspective on life.
           
So to reduce this practical end times exploration to a Twitter feed, here’s what we might have: Either Jesus is coming, or at some point – we’re going; get ready for action; this life is not all there is; adopt the perspective of eternity;  there’s no need to be afraid (and if I’m not mistaken – that’s exactly 140 characters).
           
Pretty much says it all … don’t ya’ think?

August 8, 2010

Sermon August 1 — Who Loves Ya Baby

Ecclesiastes: 1:2, 12-14, 2:18-23

“Vanity of vanities!  All is vanity” (Ecclesiastes 1:2).  The author of Ecclesiastes is convinced that the whole of human existence can be described by this single word: Vanity.

The writer of this book is known as the Preacher, or Teacher.  He takes a cold-eyed look at the world – and certainly isn’t the philosopher to turn to if you need some cheering up.
           
“All is vanity,” he insists.  All is worthless, meaningless, absurd…. as solid as vapor, fog and steam.  The Teacher surveys society and spots extreme pride in human appearance and accomplishments.  He looks around, and what he sees is narcissism – excessive self-love and admiration.
           
Our world has a vanity problem, says the Teacher.  And, according to him, it’s only getting worse.
           
There’s the groom who won’t let his bride’s overweight friend be a bridesmaid because he doesn’t want her to mess up the wedding pictures.
           
There’s the woman who has such confidence in her impeccable taste that she routinely redecorates her daughter’s home – without asking.
           
There’s the parents who believe their children are so gifted and talented that it would be a supreme injustice for them to be denied the chance to attend the elite university of their choice.
           
According to Psychology Today (January 1, 2006), narcissism can range from an annoying tendency to a serious clinical disorder.  We aren’t talking just about people who imitate the character Narcissus, the patron saint of self-lovers.  He was the handsome young man of Greek mythology who withdrew from the world, content to gaze forever at his own reflection in a pool of water. People with this kind of “glamtastic” vanity may be pathetic, but they’re basically harmless.
           
No, real-life narcissists desperately need other people to validate their own worth.  They are celebrity wannabes in search of their inner Beyoncé … reality-show contestants who want to be famous for being famous and will do anything to get on television … parents of the “balloon boy,” involving their child in a dangerous stunt to draw attention to themselves … White House party-crashers who slip through a crack in security and then post their exploits on Facebook.
           
“It’s not so much being liked,” says Roy Baumeister, a social psychologist at Florida State University.  “It’s much more important to be admired.  Studies have shown narcissists are willing to sacrifice being liked if they think it’s necessary to be admired.”
           
This craving for admiration is a red flag, one of the clearest warning signs of narcissism.  It pops up in weddings, in home decorations, in cosmetic surgery, in college admissions.  So how can we spot this tendency in ourselves and in the people around us?  And what can we do about it?
           
Well, we might begin by looking at the book of Ecclesiastes as a field guide to narcissism.
           
The Teacher of Ecclesiastes begins by applying his mind “to seek and to search out by wisdom all that is done under heaven” (1:13).  He examines all the human deeds that are done under the sun, and what does he conclude?  “All is vanity and a chasing after wind.  What is crooked cannot be made straight, and what is lacking cannot be counted” (vv. 14-15).
           
At first glance, this may seem to be a completely depressing picture of human life.  It’s hard to accept the Teacher believes that absolutely everything is meaningless and that nothing crooked can be made straight.  But remember, the first characteristic of true narcissists is that they need to be admired.  They win a trophy in an office sports competition and then carry it around with them for months.  They cover their walls with awards, plaques and pictures of themselves shaking hands with famous people.  The balloon of their self-esteem is punctured by the assertion that “all is vanity and a chasing after wind.”
           
The Teacher is saying we can’t get our self-worth from our accomplishments.  We shouldn’t be admired for our human deeds.  Instead, our worth comes completely from being children of God.  And that means we’re all equal in the eyes of the Creator of all that is … every single one of us.  ….. Narcissists hate that!
           
The Teacher goes on to say, “I hated all my toil in which I had toiled under the sun, seeing that I must leave it to those who come after me – and who knows whether they will be wise or foolish?  Yet they will be master of all for which I toiled and used my wisdom under the sun. This also is vanity” (2:18-19).

He is absolutely correct in insisting that the fruits of our labors will be passed to the generations that follow.  This is a great frustration to narcissists, because they have a deep desire to be at the center of things.  “The narcissist is very happy in the moment of glory,” observes psychologist Roy Baumeister.  “It has to be glory, though.  He’s not going to be a team player.”
           
The truth of human life is that our days are numbered, and our time on earth passes quickly.  Unless we’re willing to be team players and pass our insights and accomplishments to our children and grandchildren, we’ll find ourselves frustrated and unfulfilled.  As country-music star George Strait sings:
           
You don’t bring nothing with you here
And you can’t take nothing back.
I ain’t never seen a hearse, with a luggage rack.
           
The Teacher of Ecclesiastes concludes by asking, “What do mortals get from all the toil and strain with which they toil under the sun?  For all their days are full of pain, and their work is a vexation; even at night their minds do not rest. This also is vanity” (2:22-23).

A final characteristic of narcissists is that they tend to be blind to their own faults.  They blame others when failures occur, or when an effort isn’t successful. Their behavior on the job is marked by temper tantrums, unreasonable expectations and shocking selfishness.  They simply cannot believe it when their work causes them pain, frustration and sleepless nights.  It doesn’t seem fair to them, and they’re anxious to pin the blame on someone else.
           
But the Teacher says, in effect, “Get over it.  Get used to it.  Work is hard, and often thankless.  But this is the nature of life in the real world.  You’re a fool if you expect your efforts to give you the satisfaction that only a relationship with God and with your neighbors can give.”

Jesus teaches us that God – not ourselves, should be at the center of our lives, and that the greatest of commandments is to “love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.”  He goes on to say that a second commandment is like it: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:37-39).  To focus on God and neighbor is the opposite of narcissism and the antidote to vanity, but notice that Jesus isn’t asking us to despise ourselves.  No, he says we are to love our neighbor as ourself, stressing that we should love ourselves as valuable people, made in the image and likeness of God.
           
The solution to narcissism isn’t self-hatred.  Instead, it’s a set of healthy relationships, with God, with self, and with the people of God around us.
           
In a world of vapor and steam, this is where we can find a solid, meaningful life.  And it is this relationship that we celebrate and recommit ourselves to as we come to the Table of the Lord today.

August 7, 2010

Tickets On Sale for You’re A Good Man Charlie Brown Online

The God Is Still Speaking Players is proud to announce the cast for its upcoming production of “You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown”:

 Charlie Brown    John Rothman

Lucy                     Taylor Peters

Linus                    Spencer Doyle

Patty                     Kate Perello

Schroeder           Chris Dixson

Snoopy                Miranda Schwartz Bolef

 Come and see your favorite “Peanuts” characters brought to life in a rollicking fun and touching romp through some of Charles Schultz’s best comic strip story lines, along with some wonderful songs, including “You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown,” “Suppertime,” “Book Report,” “The Baseball Game,” “Glee Club,” and “Happiness” – to name a few.

Performances will be held at the SLO UCC (11245 Los Osos Valley Rd) on Fri, Sept 3 & 10 at 7:30 PM; Sat & Sun, Sept 4 & 5 and 11 & 12 at 2 PM; PLUS a special Labor Day Monday matinee on Sept 6 at 2 PM to benefit the work of the Prado Day Center. 

General Admission is $15, along with a Family FUN-Pak price of $50 that will admit a family of 4 or more.

Presale tickets are available at the SLO UCC office (544-1373), Boo Boo Records in SLO, Volumes of Pleasure in Los Osos, Coalesce Bookstore in Morro Bay, or online at www.brownpapertickets.com.  Tickets will also be available at the door on the days of performance.

Contact Director, Curt Miner, at 544-1373 or revcurt@sloucc.org with any questions.

August 7, 2010

Prop. 8 Rally

Prop 8 Rally

Our very own Rev. Curt joined  MC Gina Whitaker, Steve Espinoza, Rev. Caro Hall of St. Benedict’s in Los Osos, Rev. Sean Dennison of the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship and Rev. Susan Brecht from the Community Church of Atascadero UCC – all members of the Central Coast Clergy & Laity for Justice and Coalition of Welcoming Congregations – at the Prop. 8 Rally in San Luis Obispo this week. All were celebrating Judge Walker’s decision to strike down the proposition on the grounds of it being unconstitutional by denying equal protection under the law to same sex couples who want to marry.

It is a victory for gays and lesbians in California, but sure to be appealed by the opposition. This case will surely go to the Supreme Court. Many say that judges should not be involved and that the “will of the people” should stand in this case. Yet it can be argued, the Constitution was written to protect the minority over the majority, so there is not absolute power in the United States. The Federal Courts have struck down cases to protect that minority in many civil rights cases like allowing interacial couples to marry in the 60′s.

Rev. Curt Miner

There are several churches in San Luis Obispo County that openly welcome gays and lesbians into their churches,  respecting their rights as human being and full citizens of this country. Please visit the Central Coast Clegy & Laity for Justice website to find a church if you are seeking one. At the UCC, you are very welcome here!

July 31, 2010

Sermon July 25 — Unity in Diversity

COL: 2: 8-10, 16-19

The French are fighting these days.  No, it isn’t another revolution.  No one is storming the Bastille.  Instead, they’re participating in a fiery “grand debate,” ignited by President Nicolas Sarkozy’s proposed decree that would ban anyone, especially students, from wearing religious symbols of any kind. Although it originally was aimed particularly at forbidding Muslim women from donning head scarves, the law is broad enough to ban any “ostentatious” religious symbol, including the Star of David or the cross.
           

Sarkozy’s theory is that the French people are being divided and distracted by a myriad of diverse religious expressions.  They’re no longer focused on their shared identity of being French, but instead are putting their individual beliefs before their nationality.  The emphasis, Sarkozy claims, should be on being French first, secular second, and religious a distant third, at best.    

Put aside religious expression, the decree suggests, and people will once again rally around their version of the good ol’ red, white and blue, providing a patriotic unifying symbol for the people instead of all these bothersome religious expressions.

So the French government set aside four months during which people across the country were encouraged to discuss this potential law change. Debates often spiraled into xenophobic diatribes against recent immigrants and their “foreign ways.”  The debate about religious expression vs. secular lifestyle gave way to the underlying fear of immigrants taking jobs and housing.  Often it turned into open season, inviting every fear and prejudice to be voiced under the guise of patriotism.
           
It’s too easy to single out obvious signs of religious devotion.  The Muslim headscarf is instantly recognizable.  But what about Orthodox Jewish women who wear a wig to cover their hair?  It would be a brave (or foolish) person who would challenge a woman with what appears to be a wig to determine if she were wearing it for religious reasons, or to improve her appearance – or maybe she’s just having a bad hair day, and what you’re seeing is actually her own hair … OOPS!  By singling out the Muslim headscarf in particular, President Sarkozy tapped into people’s fear of radical Islam and terrorism.  By equating a woman’s desire to modestly cover her hair with the refusal to be loyal to the homeland, Sarkozy blurred the line between religion and racism.
           
In the atmosphere of economic recession where recent immigrants are blamed for tough financial times and lost jobs, neighbors angrily denounced strangers and citizens alike.  People were challenged when they didn’t share the same notion and ideal of “Frenchness.”  Ugly and sometimes violent confrontations resulted.  America’s recent town hall meetings on health-care reform were downright civil by comparison.
           
Not surprisingly, there was no consensus on what it means to be French.
Say “French” and what comes to mind?  Do we dream about “April in Paris” with suave French men in berets, sporting pencil thin moustaches, drinking robust red wine?
           
Do we imagine sipping an espresso or munching on a croissant at corner cafés with the Eiffel Tower looming in the background?

           
Or does the French Riviera come to mind? 
           
Perfumed women walking perfumed poodles?
           
Surely everyone, including — and maybe especially — the French themselves, has a different impression of France and what it means to be French.
           
So, what does it mean to be a Christian?
           
This nettlesome problem of identity and belonging has been a hot-button topic for centuries.  The church in Colossae was fighting about it 2,000 years ago.  They had no role models for what it meant to be Christian.  It was up to them to define how a Christian church was run and what a Christian should look like.  Everyone had a different opinion about what it meant to be a Christian and how that designation was earned.  This tiny young church was being torn apart by competing factions and beliefs.  It was held “captive through philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition … not according to Christ” (v. 8).
           
Secret initiatives?  Impressing God with our actions or words?  Wearing outward and visible signs of our faith?  Is that what it means to be a Christian?
           
No, says Paul.  If he could sit down in a café with President Sarkozy, I suspect Paul would tell him something like this:  Identity doesn’t come from outward symbols or from the company we keep or from what is worn or said.  It doesn’t even come from the country of our birth or where we live right now.
           
Our identity, says Paul, comes from the One who created us.  It’s easier to divide ourselves up into visible groups, based on shared experiences or outward similarities.  Congregations can be tempted to divide into visible groups — male or female?  Young or old?  Married or not?  Republican, Democrat, or opting out? Longtime member or newcomer?  Gay or straight?  Those obvious, tangible dividing lines can be tempting as people try to discern which group deserves more respect or attention.  People yearn to be part of a definable group.
           
But too often the wrong issues unite us.
           
Churches in particular are known to hold onto the comforting tradition of “we have always done it that way.”  It’s easy to get caught up in defending traditions of food and drink, Sabbaths and festivals (v. 16), even if they’re no longer understood or have lost their meaning in today’s society.  The ritual itself becomes the identity, but it may lack meaning or depth for some.
           
Too often, congregations align and divide over silly arguments.  Who hasn’t heard of a church that fought over the paint color of the fellowship hall, or the rug choice for the parlor, or whether grape juice or wine (or even water) should be offered at the Lord’s Table?  People can dig in their heels, refusing to budge because they have found people with whom they agree; this is now their group.  Human beings yearn to belong; we will grasp at any straw to be included, to be counted.
           
And everything takes advantage of this yearning to be part of a group, from stores to bars to credit cards.  Stores offer loyalty points that you can trade in for greater values.  Come to our store, they say, and you’ll be one of our discerning customers!  You’ll become part of our group and earn the distinction of being a savvy shopper.
           
Credit cards become “reward cards” that can reap benefits when used often.  Restaurants and bars encourage people to define themselves as loyal patrons; the local Chinese restaurant and the neighborhood barber both offer “loyalty cards.”  Every time a purchase is made, the card gets stamped.  After six visits, the next purchase is free.  Presto!  An identity is given: This is who I am; I shop here and not there; I’m part of this group and not another one.
           
Something is lost, Paul says, when we settle for so little.  Paul tells that early church — and the modern one — to consider what choices are being offered.  On the one hand, there are philosophy, traditions and human deceit (v. 8).  People can put their confidence in as little as where they live, the color of their skin, or the club membership they hold.  Outwardly, everyone might look the same and a false “unity” can be imposed.  Trying to force an identity onto a group of people has 1984 overtones; Big Brother will attempt to control people’s loyalties by demanding a sameness.  Diversity becomes something to be feared, and a reassuring blandness is rewarded.  Let’s agree on something, the thought goes, because otherwise we’ll need to respectfully listen to one another in an attempt to understand our differences.
           
If the French people vote to cast off their symbols of faith, will that make them less religious and more French?  Only if they place their confidence solely on appearance.  As the bumper sticker reminds us, Going to church makes you a Christian like going to a garage makes you a car.  We can’t earn the designation of “Christian” by our actions; we belong to Christ because of Christ’s actions.
           
God offers an identity that cannot be earned and cannot be taken away. Humankind, in all of its vast diversity, can look in the mirror and see someone who is named and claimed a beloved child of God.  The old and the young, the head-covered, the dreadlocked and the skinhead, people seeking God and people unaware of God — humanity in all its variations — can see in the reflection someone who is accepted and set free by God’s boundless love.
           
Our identity comes from God, and whether we claim it or acknowledge it or even want it, it remains unchanged.
           
Put that in your espresso!  Vive la différence!  …..

 Last month, Leslie Cotham was one of the “Art After Dark” host businesses in downtown SLO.  Linda and I stopped by, and a piece of art entitled “My People” by Simone Viola just jumped off the wall at me … or to use the more artistic jargon – it spoke to me.

In describing the work in her own words, Simone says, “We are uniquely different and many, yet We Are One.”

Well … I bought it – and it is displayed in the narthex to the left of the portrait of Jesus.  Please take a look at it as you leave worship today … I’ll be interested to hear if it “speaks to you” as it did to me.

July 28, 2010

Sermon July 11 — The Bad Samaritan

Sorry, The last two sermons are in the wrong order, but they are here!!

Luke 10: 25-37

Ever left your cell phone on a bus, or your wallet at the store?  If you have, you probably can viscerally remember the sense of panic.
           
For a lot of people, their cell phones are a microcosmic representation of their whole lives.  Think about all the phone numbers and contact information, pictures, calendared appointments and text messages that are typically stored in there.  Granted, if you back it up often on your computer or with your wireless carrier, it shouldn’t be a big deal.  But, given the fact that many people are too busy to make a backup plan and too cheap to buy the phone insurance, losing one’s phone can still be the equivalent of leaving one’s life on a bus seat.
           
Ashton Giese knows this.  The Defense Department analyst was on his way home when he inadvertently dropped his cell phone on a Washington, D.C., street.  When he discovered that his electronic life was missing, he frantically began dialing the cell’s number from another phone.  He didn’t even know what time it was because, like a lot of 21st-century people, he kept time with his phone rather than a watch.
           
Finally, a voice answered.  “Yeah, I got your phone,” said the voice.  “But what’s it worth to you?”
           
“Twenty bucks,” said a frantic Giese.  It was all the cash he had on him at the time.  “My phone is my life,” he says.  “If I’d needed to, I would have paid a lot more.”  …..
           
What’s it worth to you?  That’s certainly not the first thing you want to hear out of a “good” Samaritan, is it?  Many of us assume there’s a kind of unwritten agreement between losers and finders, and when we’re on the finding end we get a special kind of rush when we’re able to unite someone with their lost valuables.  The gushing gratitude of the recipient is enough reward for most of us.
           
But, clearly, not all of us.  Some people look at the misfortune of others as an opportunity to make a quick buck.  Call them “bad Samaritans.”
           
Bad Samaritans are focused primarily on maximizing their reward or, in some sense, recouping something of what they believe society owes them.  Take the case of Los Angeles-based writer Andrew Cohn, who was cleaning up after a backyard party and found a wallet on the ground with $40 in it.  “I’d just spent $500 on the party,” says Cohn.  “I figured the money was the girl’s contribution.” He kept the money and left the wallet, with ID and credit cards, on the ground.
           
How did Cohn justify his actions?  Well, he says, “If you expect someone’s going to return your wallet with all the cash, you’re probably a little delusional.” Davy Rothbart, who edits a magazine called Found, which features photos of lost objects, agrees with Cohn.  “Really good Samaritans, if they find a wallet, they return it intact,” he says.  “Some people find a wallet, take the money, but return the important stuff.  That’s not evil.”
           
So, what does that make someone such as Cohn – a semi-good Samaritan?  And what if you find a wallet, but really need the money right now … does that make it okay to keep it as long as you give back the “important” stuff? Is “finders-keepers” an ethical escape clause?
           
My guess is that most of us would say “no” to all of the above.  After all, we’ve been schooled in things like the Ten Commandments and The Golden Rule, right?  You take the lost item, intact, back to the owner with no expectation of, or provision for, any kind of reward.  Whether it’s sheep or cell phones, demanding a reward from a vulnerable person is nothing less than extortion.
           
The lesson here would seem to be obvious, particularly when we compare the behavior of bad Samaritans to the Good Samaritan in Jesus’ famous parable. When we read this passage a little more closely, however, we begin to see that the story has an even deeper dimension to it than just the ethics of helping.  It really has to do with how we view people and, more specifically, whether we believe in the kindness of strangers.
           
Psychologists say that how you perceive strangers is a microcosm of how you perceive the world.  If you believe that most people are intrinsically unethical, and that they’d put the screws to you if given a chance, then you’re much more likely to put the screws to someone else if, say, you find a wallet or a cell phone or, as in Jesus’ story, if you find someone battered on the side of the road. People who see strangers as outsiders, as enemies, or as something less than themselves, will default to treating them that way, rather than as equals, or, to use Jesus’ term, as “neighbors.”
           
The key to this parable is thus the question that prompts it.  A lawyer asks Jesus, “[W]hat must I do to inherit eternal life?”  This is a question about ultimate rewards.  For a first-century Jew, “eternal life” meant the life of the age to come, the ultimate covenant blessing that was in store for God’s chosen people.  The lawyer perceived himself to be a member of the covenant community who, like many of his people at the time, held clear ideas about who was within the covenant boundaries set by the Torah and who was outside – who were friends, and who were strangers.
           
Jesus questions him about the Torah law, and the lawyer gives the right answer – the Shema from Deuteronomy 6:5, which was about love for God, and its companion piece from Leviticus 19:18 about loving one’s “neighbor” as oneself.  The definition of neighbor is the sticking point for this lawyer, so he presses Jesus for a legal opinion.  Luke says the lawyer wanted to “justify” himself, which is a way of saying he was concerned about defining his “neighbors” as follows: “My neighbor is a fellow Jew, i.e., someone who lives within the covenant boundaries of Judaism.”
           
Asking Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” was like saying, “You’re talking about our own people, right?”  Like many of the people of Jesus’ day, the lawyer apparently had issues with strangers.
           
Jesus responds with this story, one that has become so familiar to us that we may miss the scandalous implications of it for people such as the lawyer.  A man is on his way down the wilderness road from Jerusalem to Jericho, which implies that he is a Jew, when he gets set upon by robbers who beat him and leave him for dead.   A priest and a Levite, who should be obvious “neighbors” to their fellow Jew, both pass by on the road and refuse to help.  Maybe they had good reasons; for example, their involvement with a battered body might make them ritually unclean to work in the temple.  Although Jesus doesn’t elaborate on their reasons for not wanting to get involved, the fact that these two are representatives of the Torah and its covenant rituals and boundaries are very significant.  The priest and the Levite – and, by association, the Torah and the sacrificial system – fail to act in order to save one of their own.
           
Who does?  A Samaritan, a stranger and an enemy of Israel.  To most first-century Jews, “good Samaritan” would have been a laughable oxymoron, as these half-breed people with their own temple were considered pariahs.  However, this Samaritan stops, renders aid and takes care of the Jewish victim’s expenses.  He does what the victim’s “own people” won’t do for him.
           
Although we most often read and hear sermons on this story from the perspective of the Samaritan who helps, Jesus hammers home the point from the perspective of the victim in answering the lawyer’s question with a question of his own.  “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers” (v. 36)?  The stunning answer was, of course, that the Jew in the ditch discovered that the Samaritan was his neighbor and that the others — those geographically, ethnically and religiously similar — were not.
           
“What must I do to inherit eternal life?”  The lawyer’s question was the same as that of the rich young man in Luke 18:18-25, and Jesus’ answer is essentially the same: You must learn a new way to be God’s covenant people and a new way of understanding God’s kingdom.  And, for starters, you must redefine your definition of “neighbor” to include the stranger and the outsider. Jesus would live that out by spending time with the outcasts and, interestingly, the tax collectors, many of whom made their living essentially by extortion!  Following Jesus means we are called to “[g]o and do likewise” (v. 37).  We are called to see others not as good or bad Samaritans, but as people who deserve our presence and our help.
           
God’s people are never to play “finders-keepers,” nor are they to see themselves as being more deserving or better than anyone else.  When it comes to the kindness of strangers, we tend to get what we expect.  If we’re kind and helpful to people we don’t know or who are in trouble, in every circumstance, then we’re more likely to see that kindness returned.  Even if we don’t receive reciprocal care and help, we know that God has called us to love the stranger regardless.  That’s what it means to be God’s people.
           
Things do have a way of coming back around to justice eventually.  Take Andrew Cohn, for example.  A few hours after he replaced the now cash-poor wallet back on the ground, the owner knocked on his door.  Cohn opened the door to find a drop-dead gorgeous woman standing on his porch.  Although she was sad her money was gone, she was glad to have her wallet and credit cards back.  She was so glad, thought Cohn, that maybe she’d agree to go out with him.
           
Problem is, he didn’t get her number, and a mutual friend wouldn’t give it to him.  The friend’s reason?  “You can’t ask out a girl if you just took her money.”
           
You think?
           
Maybe this guy will someday get a life, find eternal life, and come to understand what it means to be a good neighbor.

July 28, 2010

Sermon July 18 – A Pious People

Psalm 139: 1-7, 23-24

Imagine this: a little device that sticks onto your chest like a Band-Aid that constantly monitors your physical health by reading your heart rate, respiratory rate, bodily fluid levels and overall activity.  It then transmits all that data to a central server for analysis and review by a doctor and by you as well.      

But not only that, because hundreds of thousands of people wear little devices such as this, the readouts we’re all submitting create a database of vital signs that can be used by the device on our chest to predict when, for instance, we’re on the verge of heart failure.  It gives us an early warning that prompts us to get medical attention before our heart actually fails and is damaged.

 This may sound like something from Star Trek, but it actually describes the expected capabilities of a medical-tech product currently under development by a company called Corventis.  Named PiiX (pronounced pie-ex), the gadget is a wireless, water-resistant sensor that you wear like an adhesive bandage to provide constant monitoring and comparison with vital signs in the database.
           
PiiX isn’t some inventor’s pie-in-the-sky dream.  The technology for the sensor has already received FDA approval.  The company is now working to generate the software that will provide the predictive information “not from five or 10 patients, but from hundreds of thousands of patients, as the system is applied across the planet.”  Corventis is running large clinical trials now and plans to file for FDA approval on its first predictive software sometime this year.  In addition to warning about heart failure, the PiiX could eventually be used to help predict strokes and diagnose conditions such as sleep apnea.
           
The idea is to create a machine intelligence that manages a person’s overall health, a technology that “moves from the reactive approach of practicing medicine that is prevalent today to something that is much more proactive, preventative, and individualized.”
           
Now imagine this: a little device that sticks onto your chest like a Band-Aid that constantly monitors your spiritual health by reading your actions, motives, speech, truthfulness, commitments, and where you put your trust.  It then transmits all that data to a heavenly server for analysis and review by God and by you as well.  Then, when there’s a development that’s potentially hazardous regarding your spiritual well being, it would give you an early warning that prompts you to get spiritual attention before your soul actually fails and is damaged.  Call this sensor the PiiUS (pronounced pie-us, or pious).
           
It seems likely that we will have the PiiX long before we have the PiiUS, at least in terms of technology, however Psalm 139 could be thought of as an early prototype for the latter. But, of course, the soul isn’t the sort of thing that lends itself to being read by technology.  So I doubt we’ll ever have a soul sensor that we can tape onto our bodies.  What we do have, however, is what we might call a PiiUS sensor, or the prayer for spiritual examination.  And one of the best examples of that is found in Psalm 139, where the writer of that psalm prays:
            Search me, O God, and know my heart;
            test me and know my thoughts.
            See if there is any wicked way in me,
            and lead me in the way everlasting (vv 23-24).
           
This is different from a prayer of confession.  We pray confessions when we’re aware – often painfully so, of what we’ve done wrong.  The prayer for examination, in contrast, is for the stuff we aren’t aware of, or are vaguely uneasy about, but haven’t faced, or are deceiving ourselves about.  In the prayer of examination, we’re asking God to reveal to us the parts of ourselves that still need reordering, repair, or redemption.
           
Of course, it’s possible to say words such as those from Psalm 139 without meaning them.  But assuming we’re actually praying them sincerely, they’re a request for God to make us aware of every spiritual pothole, so to speak, in much the same way a patient facing exploratory surgery might appeal to the surgeon beforehand to be sure to look carefully and remove anything that’s even possibly cancerous so it might not cause trouble later.
           
In other words, we’re seeking not proactive medicine. but proactive religion.
           
The thing is, if we pray such a prayer, it might be good to be ready to receive some disturbing revelations, to discover some things that may push us out of our comfort zone to get us going in the right direction spiritually.
           
Such a thing happened to the founding Pastor of one of the largest churches in America, located in suburban Chicago.  Its original mission?  To reach people who had little Christian affiliation, people informally called “unchurched Harry and Mary.”  Lots of Harrys and Marys came, and the church grew by leaps and bounds – so much so that somebody coined the word megachurch to describe it.

Yet without specifically intending it, the new congregation was virtually all white in the midst of a community that was anything but.  The church was built on the principle of friends reaching out to friends, and because the original participants were virtually all young, white, affluent and suburbanite, when they reached out to their immediate circle of friends, that demographic became “self-reinforcing.”
           
And then one day, the only African-American pastor on the church’s large staff handed the Senior Pastor a book by Michael Emerson titled Divided by Race: Evangelical Religion and the Problem of Race in America.  It argued that evangelicalism actually served to deepen that divide and “contribute to the racial fragmentation of American society.”
           
Well, when the Senior Pastor, a former Chicago Bears chaplain with many black friends, read that book, he realized his church was part of the problem.  It dawned on him that racism is “not just an individual issue but a justice issue” with “structural and [systemic] aspects” violating dozens of biblical admonitions.  “I went from thinking, ‘I don’t have a race problem’ to ‘There is a huge problem in our world that I need to be part of resolving,’” he said.
           
The catch was that he hadn’t once preached about racism in the 24 years that the church had then been in existence.
           
Recognizing that God had pointed out a “wicked way” in him, he set out to change things.  He started talking about racism in some of his sermons.  He recruited minority musicians to join the church’s bands and worship teams. He re-engineered the church’s small-group programs to include gatherings aimed specifically at bridging the racial divide, where participants could talk about their stereotypes and gain new insight.  He introduced a Spanish-language service for Latinos, who were a growing presence in the community.  And he did other things, including helping existing members reach out to people of color.
           
That all began 10 years ago, and today 20 percent of the church’s congregation is composed of minorities.  Plus the church is continuing to find ways to contribute to racial understanding and be a church for all people.
           
What God reveals to us when we invoke the PiiUS sensor, when we pray prayers of examination, may be something quite different, but do you see how such prayers can lead to proactive religion?  The large church in Chicago was having no real racial problems at the time the Pastor read that book, but neither was the church being part of a solution to racism in the larger society.  God showed that to the Pastor, who in turn started making changes proactively in a system that wasn’t obviously broken.

My guess is that we may never have an electronic sensor for the state of our souls, but a prayer of examination – asking God to search our hearts and thoughts, and then let us know what may be found there, might be even better than our best technology.  That’s because we’re asking God to compare the vital signs of our inner being not to some run of the mill average person, but to those of the very heart of God.  And when it comes to spiritual health and well being – it just doesn’t get any better than that as far as I’m concerned