Choosing God

Sermon-1st Sunday in Lent February 21, 2010
The Cloud of Unknowing, "O God, our great companion, lead us ever more deeply into the mystery of your life and ours, that we may be faithful interpreters of Life to each other, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen
As you know, we have been involved with Adopt-a-Child-Size program for 20 years. Our best guess is that we have provided complete winter outfits for anywhere from 1300-1500 children in that time. Every year Teresa Moore has had to worry and work about whether we will have enough money and resources to clothe the 600+ kids that she is given each year. A few years ago a large corporation came to Teresa and told her that they were willing to take this program on-give complete funding, pay for everything-at that time about $90,000 a year. It was an incredibly generous and wonderful offer. It took her breath away. There were just a few catches. All the religious language and touches had to be eliminated from the program. That was reasonable. This was a large multinational business and they couldn’t be seen as promoting a faith based group. It was a terrible decision for Teresa to make. $90,000 is a lot of money. Not having to struggle and beg every year to get people to turn in their money, not having to worry and lose sleep over enough clothes. It was an incredible offer, and I have nothing but good things to say about this company. But Teresa was concerned that taking Christ out of this program, might take away the power of the program. She was afraid that the project would lose it’s soul. This was an agonizing decision. This company wanted to do two minor things, little things, that would only change the program in 2 small ways: there could be no blessing of the clothes, and the company wanted to get pictures of the kids receiving the clothes. Two small things. These were so reasonable, so understandable-the company wanted the pr, Teresa and the kids needed the clothes.
Every year, on the first Sunday in Lent, we hear the story of Jesus going out into the wilderness after his baptism, to be confronted by demons. It is a powerful story. Jesus is in the wilderness 40 days, fasting, praying, being tested. Next year we’ll hear the story from Matthew, the year after that a very short version from Mark. The story in Luke and Matthew has the adversary, Satan, challenging Jesus, testing him-asking Jesus to show his power. But just for once, take Satan out of the story. For once, have Jesus debating not with an evil force-but with himself. Just this one time, think about the story as if Jesus is having an internal dialogue, a debate with himself-instead of Satan. It feels much more real, much more like us, that way.
Jesus has come up out of the waters of baptism and God said, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." Jesus had to be feeling powerful, and he goes out into the desert to understand what all this means. His first challenge, his first debate is this-what if I could feed everyone in the world? What if I could take stones and turn them into bread. What if no one would ever have to be hungry, ever again. Most of us have never been truly hungry, but this is relatively new in the history of the world. What if Jesus looked down at his hands and thought, “with God’s power, I could take away the worst pain human beings have ever faced-no more hunger, no more starvation.” What would you do? Jesus realized that with this power he could do it. And Jesus would prove to the world, that he is God’s son by this one great miracle. What an opportunity, what a prospect!
And as he sat there, thinking about the both power that he had and the chance to witness to himself-a second thing came to mind: why stop with hunger? Why not become king and ruler of every nation, every country, every tribe and peoples on earth? Why not be in charge of everyone? That would be better than bread, better than ending hunger-he could be in control of the whole world! . Do you think you could do a better job at running the world than most of the people who have the job? Of course we do. And here is Jesus, realizing that with his power, he could rule the world. What an opportunity, what a prospect.
And as he sat there thinking of this, perhaps the thought would come into Jesus’ mind, that he could do even more than that, he could do the unthinkable-he could end death. You’ve suffered pain and loss in your lives, you’ve grieved-maybe you’re in mourning even now. What if you could stop death forever-would you do it? The ultimate power, the final control. No more death, no more grief, no more loss. What is the question that we struggle with all of our lives, “why do people, especially people we love, die?” And here is Jesus, thinking to himself-I can do this. God will give me the power to end hunger, rule the nations, stop death. If you were offered this, would you do it? If you had the power, the authority, would you?
Of course we would. We hate suffering, we hate pain and hunger and injustice. We hate loss and sorrow and death. We hate them so much that if we were given the opportunity to do away with them, no matter what the cost-we would jump at the chance and never look back. Wouldn’t we? I would. It would be too tempting, too attractive, too appealing, not to.
So why didn’t Jesus do it? He has all this power, all this authority, all this ability-he is given the opening to do what we all would want. Why doesn’t he take it? God is giving him the power to do all this good-we would take it-why doesn’t he? How does he sit out there in the wilderness and say no?
Lent begins with Jesus facing these 3 great challenges-to use power for good-to save others. You know how Lent ends? Look at the last verse in today’s gospel: “When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time.” Lent ends with Jesus facing an even greater challenge than these three-the chance, the power, the authority, to save himself.
Jesus says,” no, I will not do this”. I will not choose power, even to do what is right, for the wrong reasons. He had to make the same choice that Teresa Moore made a dozen years ago. It’s easy to say that it’s from the devil and therefore it’s bad. The hard choices are when they come from inside of us-when everything inside of us is screaming, “DO THIS! IT’S FOR THE BEST! IT”S THE RIGHT THING!” That’s where the rubber meets the road-not when we can see the pitchfork and pointed tail and can say, “well, that’s evil.” It’s when we can do the right thing for “sort of” wrong reasons. Jesus was tired, he was hungry, he was weak, and fragile and vulnerable. But he knew that power-even to do good, is a great temptation. Sometimes, he realized, when we are weakest and most fragile, and most vulnerable, we are most likely to give in to that voice that keeps saying, “but it is for the best”, even when we know in our heart that it isn’t.
Jesus chose God, even though it meant that he would not feed the world’s hunger for bread. Jesus chose God, even when he knew that nations would do terrible despicable awful things. Jesus chose God even knowing that that meant he was allowing suffering and pain and death. Teresa chose God, even though she knew that the project would take more blood sweat and tears.
Sometimes we just have to face the demons inside of us telling us to grab the power, advising us to take the shortcut, directing us to do what’s best for the most-even when we sacrifice our faith. We have to face these demons, especially when we are most fragile, most frail, and choose God. Jesus was in the wilderness. Much of the time, so are we. Henry David Thoreau, once wrote, “Generally speaking, a howling wilderness does not howl: it is the imagination of the traveler that does the howling.”And the great 20th century poet T. S. Eliot, said this, The last temptation is the greatest treason: to do the right deed for the wrong reason.The greatest demons aren’t outside of us-but within, always coaxing, always seducing-to choose what we want, instead of God. Today we hear the story of how much it costs to choose God. Amen.

But, we are more than dust…

Sermon-Ash Wednesday February 17, 2010
The Cloud of Unknowing, "O God, our great companion, lead us ever more deeply into the mystery of your life and ours, that we may be faithful interpreters of Life to each other, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
“Remember that you are dust”. In a few minutes I will bid you to come forward and to receive ashes on your forehead as a physical reminder that you are mortal. “And to dust you shall return.” It’s the church’s way of saying that we began as a piece of earth, and someday our bodies will return to earth. The word human comes from the same word humus-a word for dark brown rich soil. “Remember that you are dust” I will say-don’t forget where you came from-don’t forget where you are going.
Last week Deb and I went to see the movie Avatar. It was a wonderful movie-overpowering. It showed human beings going to another planet. A friend of mind said that the distant planet had to be what Eden was like-lush and rich, fertile alive, and sprit filled. Only the humans in the movie, for the most part, were greedy, angry, and violent (the aliens were the real heroes). It was easy to remember that we are only dust after seeing that movie.
But later that night after we came home, we turned on the Olympics-the opening ceremony. It was wonderful. Back in 1980 I was way too cool for the Olympics. But I was serving at a church with Ruthie Blair. Ruthie was the sexton (janitor) at the church-and she was ALSO head of Christian education. She mopped floors and emptied trash, and she also, nurtured generations of children and taught them how precious they were in God’s sight. She was in her 50s, but she had the heart of a child. One day she organized a parish outing to Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey Circus. She managed to get everyone on the trip excited about the guy who would be shot out of the cannon. I am not making this up. We got geeked about the cannon guy! And then she got us excited about the acrobats and the high wire performers, the trapeze artists, the clowns-all the people in the circus. She got us evaluating which performers really inspired us-which ones were ho hum-and which ones made us gasp. She was able to do that!
And later that year she got everyone in the parish excited about watching the Olympics. And I thought, Ruthie Blair cleans floors and designs curriculums. And she can get people electrified about athletes and stories of performers-just by her own pure enthusiasm and enjoyment. Ever since then, I have been excited about the Olympics.
So when we watched Friday night and it was all so wonderful and alive and exciting, I thought, Remember I am but dust-but I am not ONLY dust. I am also joy. And the more I watched the opening ceremony I thought about Ruthie Blair (who I hadn’t thought about in YEARS), and I sent a prayer up to God thanking Him for her. And I thought, “I am ALSO memory.” And thinking about Ruthie made me think of other folks who taught me to appreciate and savor these small extraordinary moments that change me and sometimes convict me and lift me and feed me. So I took just a brief moment (while I was watching tv) and told God how precious these people were to me-what they had done, how they inspired me. And I thought to myself, I’m just dust-but I am also thanksgiving.
And the Opening ceremony kept going on and on. They showed the torch being carried all over Canada-28,000 miles. And I thought, “I am but dust” but I am also on a journey-just like that torch.
They showed each country walking in carrying their national flag. And for each person representing each country they gave the briefest bio of the flagcarrier-we heard very very briefly who that person was, why they had the honor of carrying their national symbol. And for many of the countries they only had that one participant-and they would say that that person had no chance to win a medal-but still they came. And I thought, “I am but dust, but I can also be noble.”
Today remember that you are but dust, a fleeting breath, that once was earth-and will some day be earth again. And remember that you are also joy-pure, unable to stop smiling, you-just-had-a-baby joy.
Remember that you are but dust-but we are also memory, with a rich past of people and events that have shaped us and molded us and made us who we are.
Remember that you are dust-but remember that you are also thanksgiving-with this ability to wonder at the great and even the painful people and things that have happened to you in your life.
Remember that you are dust-but remember that we are also passion and fire and that we are all on a journey that carrying a torch, some days slogging through the tundra, some days surrounded by cheering crowds .
Remember that you are dust-but remember that you are also noble, and decent and full of God’s grace-not all the time, maybe not even most of the time, but every once in a while we get to carry the flag and we are chosen to be gallant.
Remember that you are dust. And you are more than dust. God has given us this moment, this opportunity, to know who we are. So write down on your 3X5 card one prayer that you can pray throughout Lent. Maybe for yourself, maybe for another. Maybe for the world. Write down JUST ONE PRAYER, only one, that you can pray for 40 days.
Because, besides everything else, Remember that you are a child of God. Take this brief moment and remember who you are, what God made you, and what you need to pray this Lent. Remember that you are dust-but remember that you are more than dust-remember this lent, this Ash Wednesday, this morning’s/evening’s service that you are God’s prayer.

Grace Is Everywhere

Sermon-Year C-5 Epiphany February 7, 2010
The Cloud of Unknowing, "O God, our great companion, lead us ever more deeply into the mystery of your life and ours, that we may be faithful interpreters of Life to each other, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Ok, you’ve heard this story so often you missed the weird parts. THE FISHERMEN WERE WASHING THEIR NETS. Odd? Ok, how about this, THEY FISHED ALL NIGHT. Weird?
Any fisherpeople here? Ever fished with a net? Simon and his friends were fishing with trammel nets. We know this because they were washing them AFTER they were used. Trammel nets were made of linen and had to be washed and mended every time they were used. Another thing about trammel nets is that they are set in three layers-and are easily seen by the fish-IN DAYLIGHT. This is why they fish at night. So Jesus, telling them to put the boats back out-IN DAYLIGHT-WAS CRAZY.
The fishermen humored him. But they thought, THE RABBI IS CRAZY. And so Simon says, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” You get it that Simon’s rolling his eyes when he says this, right?
And Jesus tells him to put down their nets in deep water. Listen, if Luke the gospel writer includes a detail in a story, it’s ALWAYS important. Jesus wants Simon to go deep, deeper than usual. He wants Simon to take a risk, to step out in faith. They catch so much fish-when they shouldn’t; where they shouldn’t- that Simon realizes that he’s in the presence of the divine. The gospel says, “he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, ‘Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!’” In the contemporary Bible, The Message by Eugene Peterson ,the translation is a lot better "I'm a sinner and can't handle this holiness. Leave me to myself,".
Simon is not just a surprized, excited fisherman who has an great fish story to tell-he is now called, Simon Peter, a person who is called, a witness to power and holiness, a simple man who is overwhelmed by what he has seen-and terrified of what it all means. In other words, Simon Peter is supposed to represent, us.
Every week I talk to a lot of people, and frequently I am talking to people about jobs-what they’re doing now-what they hope to do in the future. I am amazed at how many people , in their 30s and 40s are all saying the same thing-“I want a job that matters, I want a job that makes life better for people, I want to do a job that I love-not a job, just for money.
I know I also throw in a lot of Mother Teresa stories, but this one was to good not to tell-it comes from Kate Huey a UCC pastor:
Once, years ago, I had the opportunity to hear Mother Teresa speak. Now there was a person who walked away from everything and spent her life serving the poor. It sounds downright romantic, in a way, and many of us have dreamed of leaving it all behind so we can go off to a foreign land and spend our lives doing good. But I'll never forget Mother Teresa's words that evening. She said that Americans are always saying they want to leave their lives here and go to India to work with her. And she says, "Stay here, right where you are, and love the people God has given you to love. Care for people right where you are."
When we hear the story of Simon Peter and James and John walking away from their boatload of fish-we are grabbed by their sacrifice-and we should be. Luke includes this story here to show us what radical obedience looks like. But it is too tempting to think that giving up everything and going to a far away place is what we are called to do. Some are, but most of us are called to follow-here.
This is a rather long story, but worth hearing. In fact, it’s so good I sent it out to all the downriver clergy this week-it’s from The Journey with Jesus: Notes to Myself
Reflections By Dan Clendenin
“Next year will mark the seventy-fifth anniversary of Georges Bernanos's novel The Diary of a Country Priest (1936). If you've ever struggled with the call of God to follow Jesus the Lord, I highly recommend this little book. Bernanos tells the story of a young and earnest parish priest in rural France who feels like a total failure. From a human perspective, he's not mistaken.
The entire novel is a diary in which the priest records "the simple trivial secrets of a very ordinary kind of life." He describes with brutal honesty his doubts, loneliness, social isolation, and sense of futility. He clashes with clergy colleagues. He broods over the history of his own family dysfunction. He knows that he's physically clumsy and socially awkward. He's even repulsed by his own body due to chronic stomach pains caused by an impoverished diet that's aggravated by an inadequate salary.
Nor does the priest enjoy much satisfaction in his ministry. When he shares the gospel he sometimes feels like he's merely play-acting and parroting clichés. He feels powerless in the face of suffering and ponders the absurdity of prayer. He describes his parishioners as bored, boring, and petty. They gossip about him as a "secret drinker" and a womanizer, both of which accusations are ludicrous. Still, the priest loves his flock; he visits every home every year, and he prays for them.
The cumulative effect of this candor and introspection is a sense of disillusionment. The priest is an astute observer of the weakness, frailty and fallenness of human nature, especially his own, and as a consequence he wrestles with his sense of vocation and call. He compares his restlessness to "a hornet in a bottle." Reflecting upon his "wretched weakness," he struggles with an ominous sense of total failure, that "my best is nothing." And so he questions his call: "Am I where our Lord would have me? Twenty times a day I ask this question."
By the end of Bernanos's novel, the priest has a keen sense of history and of his own obscure role to play. His elders advise him to persevere amidst his questions: "Keep saying your lessons. Go on with your work. Keep at the little daily things that need doing, til the rest comes. Concentrate. Think of a lad at his homework, trying so hard and his tongue sticking out. That's how our Lord would have us be when he gives us up to our own strength. Little things—they don't look like much, yet they bring peace. Like wild flowers which seem to have no scent, till you get a field full of 'em."
"Keep marching to the end," they encourage him, "and try to end up quietly at the roadside without shedding your equipment." When the priest dies of stomach cancer at a young age, we realize that Bernanos has painted a portrait of a genuine saint. On his deathbed at the end of the book the priest confesses, "Does it matter? Grace is everywhere."What a wonderful book.
We hear three call stories today-Isaiah who says “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips,
Paul who writes 8Last of all, as to one untimely born, (Jesus) he appeared also to me. 9For I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle,
And Peter, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!”
Each is unworthy, every one unprepared, all too average for the calling they receive. Like us. And yet, God speaks to each of us, asking us, inviting us to face our selves and follow.
Dr. Robert Linthicum, who I seem to quote every week writes: Partners in Urban Transformation, 2010
[Jesus told him], “Do not be afraid”. For, Simon, you are not in this alone. Jesus is at work in this situation. And Jesus will bring to pass through you what he has already designed your work to be. You must just do it – and the miracle will occur. So “do not be afraid”. Begin doing, and keep on doing what you have been called by Jesus to do – catching people for the kingdom. Live fully into this new call to you – live without timidity and fear. God will accomplish what God wants to do through you and this new ministry. And in that doing, you will find true fulfillment!
And Peter and James and John and Paul and Isaiah and Teresa and a simple country priest all leave the life that looks normal, their “catch” for a new life. Grace is everywhere. We hear these stories not because they are about great people who are called to extraordinary things. They are ordinary people who feel ordinary-and are called to extraordinary things. We are told these stories because they are invitations for us to become fishers of others. Amen.