Identity

A sermon based on Genesis 32:22-31 preached at South Haven UCC in Bedford, August 6th, 2017.

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He was born grabbing his brother’s heel, wrestling his way out into the world. Heel-sneak, the deceiver, Jacob. Jacob, the younger son of Isaac and Rebekah, promised from before birth to be the stronger of the twins. He wrestled a birthright out of his brother’s hands through a well placed meal of bread and lentil stew. But he didn’t stop there and with the help of his mother, he tricked Isaac into giving him the blessing that was due to Esau. In a true show of stubbornness, he even managed to wrestle a flock of sheep into submission. Through these sly and ingenious means he was able to take ownership of most of his uncle Laban’s flock. Jacob fought, scratched, ran, and wrestled his way to his position, the underdog that wouldn’t let go. In the words of the musical Hamilton, Jacob was young, scrappy, and hungry.

After all of this antagonism, the night before he was fated to meet his brother Esau was no different. Here, at the place which would be named Peniel, he wrestles with an unknown opponent.

This account might be jarring in its suddenness, as we are just trying to decipher Jacob’s travel to reach Esau when seemingly out of nowhere and bam, he is engaged in this wrestling match. Yet Jacob must have been prepared, this lifetime of being on edge, on the run, always trying to outsmart his next opponent. Once a wrestler, always a wrestler. And so his tenacious nature kicks in and he refuses to let his opponent go. The two are evenly matched until Jacob is struck on the hip, but even then Jacob does not relent.

Quite the opposite. As it has happened before, Jacob manages to wrestle a blessing out of this unique situation. “I will not let you go,” he challenges, “unless you bless me.” And so he receives a blessing in the form of a new name, a promise that echoes through the nation and the people of God that follow after him. Yet he is not left unscathed, as he exits the scene limping, heading toward an uncertain encounter with his brother.

Now I’m going to tell you about the sermon I’m not going to preach.

I’m not going to preach to you about my spiritual struggle. I won’t tell you about how God will come to you in the night. I’m not going to tell you about how you will metaphorically wrestle with God.

Instead, my single question with this story this week has been, what if we’re not Jacob?

I’m going to tell you why I think that’s an essential question for how we understand this spiritual story, but it’s going to take some backtracking.

This week, as some of you know, I was at a training in Chicago on renewal in the church. This is a great kind of training to offer right now, I think the only way to make it more popular would be to advertise “Ten tips and tricks to get millennials back in your pews and tithing!”

As you may have noticed, the North American church is changing. My generation has largely dismissed the institution of the church, but also our culture is morphing and adapting quite quickly. For many reasons, our congregations just don’t quite look like how they used to and it seems like the church has been a bit slow to adapt to what is next.

This isn’t news to me, in part because it’s the only church I know. So it doesn’t worry me in the same way that it worries some of my older colleagues who have watched the life they have built in the church shift before their eyes.

The question that’s buzzing around the North American church is how can we get people back? Maybe you’ve asked that question yourself.

Here’s the other part of the equation. While those of us in the church have been bemoaning our losses, there has been no decline in spirituality, faith, and search for community in North America. It might have religious words or it might not. But my belief is that if you look around you can see how God has not vanished from our midst. We should not be so arrogant to think we could get rid of God that quickly.

In other words, I think we can get distracted by thinking that we’re the only ones who are Jacob, the ones who have been seeking and searching and wrestling with faith, missing all of the Jacobs that are already out there.

As people of faith, it makes sense to put ourselves center in these stories of faith. We are heirs to the narrative. There is a challenge to the church, our church and the church universal, to be mindful of how God does not work exclusively through neat and tidy means. God is not only known by those who have officially pledged membership. If we are to learn another thing from the story of Jacob’s nighttime wrestling match, it is that God is mysterious, dramatic, sudden, and unexpected.

What if this wasn’t a story about us, but the people we should be looking for in the world?

You can learn a lot by asking a non-church goer about their relationship with God. Listen for what the story is about be spiritual, but not religious, about the nighttime struggles and desire for a blessing.

To listen, to learn, we have to be open handed. It is not about what we will receive, but to understand God’s blessing as broad enough for all.

And for an example of how to do this, I look beyond the account of Jacob wrestling and look at the response of his brother, Esau. Esau is a model of openness, of kindness and generosity. I hope to be like Esau when I interact with people, so gracious.

After his sleepless evening Jacob did go to meet up with Esau, sending many gifts ahead. He arrives last to greet Esau and where he might have met violence, Jacob finds forgiveness and love from his brother.

And then Esau invites Jacob to stay with him. After his name change, surely all will be reconciled. Here, yet we think that Jacob has completely changed his character, Jacob lies and coms up with an excuse so he wouldn’t have to remain with his brother. The brother’s paths diverge once again. Esau does not challenge this. Where he could have asserted authority over his brother and caused more conflict, he lets Jacob go, without jealousy or possessiveness. He does not question his motives.

How can we have Esau’s eyes when we look at the world God is blessing outside of our church walls? How can we have Esau’s enthusiasm and love for those who are fighting for their faith, their blessing, even when it is a challenge to us?

The question for me is who does God bless? If I thought it was just me, or my community, or those who have found the one true way and joined the UCC, well, this would be easy. I would always be Jacob, we would get to be the heroes and the center of God’s blessing.

That’s not my faith though, and I suspect it’s not yours either.

Keep your ears perked for stories like Jacob’s. Everyone carries a story about faith and spirituality, even if they don’t use the same language we do. Everyone has a story of struggle, of victories that leave scars, of complicated family relationships. The work of our faith is to be witness to how we understand God’s presence in all places. That might begin with your life, but it doesn’t end there.

New

A sermon based on Matthew 28:16-20 preached at South Haven UCC in Bedford, OH on Trinity Sunday, 6/11/17.

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The Trinity makes a strangely frequent appearance in the world of comic strips. Some of them are the classic hand drawn illustrations of kids walking out of a church, saying things like, “After Dad got done explaining the Trinity I didn’t have the heart to ask him about the electoral college.” Or a few people standing in front of a blank sheet of paper on an easel, pictionary style, saying they have five minutes to depict the Trinity. Or a multiple choice questions labeled “Beginner’s Theology” that asks how many people make up the Trinity and then gives the options one, two, three, all of the above, or enough for a football team.

I didn’t say these were good cartoons, but there are plenty out there.

We poke fun at the Trinity as this obtuse, complicated topic. How do we have a God who is three-in-one? What is this stuff about the Son being begotten of the Father? Does it still count if it’s a Mother, does the Spirit get a pronoun, and is this just some kind of weird family?

Many faithful people have taken a look at the Trinity and in a quite sensible move, moved across the street to become Unitarians.

It’s one of those mysterious parts of our faith that we all profess to believe, but logically none of us can grasp. I’m certain I mentioned the Trinity in my ordination paper, but I suspect with as few of words as I possibly could.

It’s delightfully tricky. One God, three persons. It’s odd and certainly doesn’t make explaining our faith any easier. In fact, talking about the Trinity is an easy way to land yourself in the company of heretics when you accidentally use the wrong metaphor. As comic strips have shown me, the Trinity is an easy punchline. And, it’s just the thing we need to knock us back, put us in place, and let us know where we belong in the world.

If you can recite every aspect of your faith, if you believe you can name God fully, I might gently ask how that’s working out for you.  Certainty is overrated. It’s absolutely not critical to be a Christian. I might even argue the opposite. To know God is to be constantly learning about God.

Matthew says, "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."

Here’s my paraphrase: Get out there and invite people to be students of God, and welcome them into the mystery of our faith.

We don’t use the word disciple very much in our day to day life, so occasionally when reading a scripture like this we can switch it out for the word student. We can understand much more readily how a student is one who is in a posture of learning. A student hasn’t mastered everything yet. They’re growing and changing--and this is our call as disciples as well.

It’s just right that this call Jesus made, what we sometimes call the great commission, this call to be disciples or students, is couched in the language of what we now recognize as the Trinity, one of the most unknowable and laughable elements of our faith?

The Trinitarians language in there might just be a note to us that the call to the Christian faith is the call to be a lifelong student, to welcome beginners along the way. Those who doubted? They were also asked to go get a few more disciples. Jesus didn’t separate his followers out and say, oh, you all who have had doubts stop helping and go home now. They were invited along as leaders.

It’s a trap to believe that you:

• Can only teach if you’re an expert
• Can only preach if you’re a theologian
• Can only pray if you’re a spiritual master

Disciples gathered more disciples. We are asked to invite people to be students. We are asked to invite people into mystery. We invite, because we, too, must know what it’s like to be a student. To know God and to not know God, as we continually learn and grow and adapt in our understanding. We are not here to clarify. We are here to bear witness to all that which is holy, which is unexpected, which has compelled us to love more and live more fully. We cannot know what that will look like to another person, but we can be willing to learn alongside them. Christ goes before us, the example of the one who will not abandon us to this laughable endeavor.

Who here might have begun their faith life with an image of God as old man, likely white, sitting in clouds? I know I did. But then perhaps you were given the vision of Jesus, a brown skinned middle eastern man. Or you felt the breath of the Spirit, or the embrace of a parent God, or knew God through God’s creating self. We experience and we learn God anew because we are disciples, students. Discovery is better than certainty. Even the facts of science are built on hypothesis; it is often lies that are the most certain.

I’ve been in places where theology, God-talk, was left to the elite and educated. What I’ve come to believe from scripture is the opposite. I trust that we are called to what the Buddhists name as beginner’s mind. In Christian language, we are called to be born again. We are asked to be made new.

When we have the humility of students, of disciples, we create a space for others to be made new as well. We transform together. We sit at the feet of mystery, asking curious questions, allowing ourselves to hear God in the way that God is speaking to us, not in the way that we expect.

I was looking at pictures Elizabeth posted on Facebook from last week, when you all took time to try something new for a Pentecost celebration. I saw pictures of adults coloring with children, children waving ribbons, all ages, playing and dancing with the Spirit together. It’s the same way I felt when you all came out to the picnic on Thursday, when Roger and Kenny spent the day being willing to clean out and rearrange the pastor’s office, to make it look new (or at least new-ish).

My prayer has been that God will continue to bless us with newness and hopefulness. I was talking to my sister the other day how I’ve spent the last nine years of so of my life preparing to be a pastor. Each life decision I made, including dating and marrying Josh, was directed by this preparation. On my first date with Josh I made it abundantly clear that I was leaving for seminary soon and that I was going to be a pastor and if he had problems with that to get out now. Luckily he stuck around. But I’ve spent over a third of my life taking classes about scripture and theology, spending time in internships, with mentors, at countless meetings, fulfilling ordination requirements. And now, here I am. All of that is behind me. I think the temptation of the world is to view that process as complete. I am now the Reverend Rachel--like I’ve reached my final level. But being with you is a reminder that instead of being complete, arriving, or completely achieving, I am instead being made new by God. I might be a pastor, but I am a disciple and I am full of gratitude to be surrounded by all of you fellow disciples. I have an opportunity to see my faith, to see God with new eyes, through each of your experiences, through the community you’ve created here.

I am being called to be made new, as we all are. We will always be disciples. And in the midst of this, God’s presence, mysterious and Trinitarian as it might be, is with us, always, to the end of the age.

Let’s be students together. Let’s delight in the mystery of God, knowing that it means there will always be something to learn.  

Prepare

A sermon based on Romans 13:11-14 preached at Forest Hill Church, Presbyterian in Cleveland Heights, OH on 11/27/16.

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As you should now know, today is the First Sunday of Advent.  Throughout Advent we prepare for the coming of Jesus.

When we talk about preparing for Jesus it’s a little confusing, even for those of us who have been a part of the church for a long time.  During Advent we prepare for the birth of Jesus.  But as some people have wisely pointed out--wasn’t Jesus born last year?

It gets more confusing when we read different parts of the bible.  During Advent we read about what it was like before Jesus was born and how God’s people waited for Jesus.  And then we read stories about Jesus’ birth and that all makes some kind of sense--waiting for Jesus, the savior, to be born and then Jesus is born.

Yet after Jesus’ death people began to wait for Jesus to come back again, what is sometimes called the second coming, Jesus’ birth being the first coming.  Waiting for the second coming, well, this is what is going on in the book of Romans.  All that language about being awake and ready for the day is just another way of saying be ready for Jesus to come back again.

All of this can get very strange.  Are we preparing for Jesus to be born, or to come back again?

The short answer to that: Yes.

It’s not the only thing that’s mysterious about the time of Advent.  Jesus’ birth is one of the great mysteries of our faith.  God became human in Jesus, something we call the incarnation, or when God became flesh and dwelt among us.  Jesus was fully human, just like us, and yet fully divine, just like God.  That’s another pretty confusing thing, I would say.

It’s hard to understand this all, but the good news is I don’t think we ever have to understand it perfectly.

What the season of Advent teaches us year after year is how we can keep our hearts and minds open to whatever it is that God is doing in our life.  It's difficult to grasp how God is at work in the world.  It might be as surprising as the salvation that came through birth of a tiny baby in the most unlikely of places.

This Advent I want to be curious. I want to be ready.  I want to be watchful.

Have you ever waited for someone at the airport?  Maybe you’re one of those people who have perfected the timing of picking someone up from the airport, circling around in your car, waiting for the arivee under the giant number three.  But there’s something a little different when you’ve parked the car, the few dollars it costs to do so totally worth it, and set yourself up with a homemade sign ready to welcome someone.

I remember my family all waiting for my brother’s flight to arrive after he had spent a semester studying abroad in Jordan.  We had our cardboard sign all ready; "welcome home,” it said.   Do you know what it’s like when you’re waiting on someone and you get all jittery and impatient?  I think my family was doing these mini-laps around the baggage claim area. We had been tracking his flight on our phones and the monitors at the airport. We knew when he had landed and we just were waiting for him to descend down the escalator.

Of course, when his face came into view we all leapt out of our seats and excitedly gathered around to greet him.  Since he is our little brother we, of course, shrieked about his haircut and started asking him all kinds of questions.  And even though I’m sure it was a little overwhelming, I know he secretly loved all that attention.
I get a mini version of this every day it a bit of a different setting.  Do any of you have pets?  I know it’s the thing for loyal, lovable dogs to be the ones to greet you when you get home.  Do any of you have dogs that come run to meet you when you open the door to your house?

Well, I don’t have a dog, but my husband Josh and I have a cat; her name is Cortez.  And I’m not sure she has the same loyalty as a dog, but I do feed her every day.  So sure enough, when walking up the stairs to our apartment I think she hears and gets her cat self all situated right behind the door so right when we walk in she’s there for us to trip over.  Then she runs all around under our legs before deciding that she’s bored and ready to not pay any attention to us.

So why am I telling you these stories?  What I’m saying is during Advent be like Cortez.

Be waiting at the door.  Be sitting on the edge of your seat at the airport, ready to jump up and offer a big hug.  Be awake and keep watch.

We are going to be ready this advent to see Jesus.  And that’s mysterious and beautiful and holy and surprising.  Being ready is not being distracted, ready to spot Jesus because we just don’t quite know how this is all going to play out, so we have to be ready in every moment.  God surprises us.

Here’s a few ideas I’ve written down for myself to follow this Advent, inspired by Romans, especially the part that encourages Christians to live honorably.  This is my list.  

Be mindful.  Breathe deeply more.
Don’t numb out scrolling through instagram.
Don’t get jealous about other’s gifts.
Don’t overdo it on the eggnog.
Be ready to be a witness to my faith.

Who knows when you or I might encounter Jesus!

As we take communion together this morning I hope you will be open to the wonder and mystery of this season.  A new day is coming, let us be ready.

Amen.  

Team

A sermon based on Galatians 3:23-29 preached at Forest Hill Church, Presbyterian, Cleveland Heights, 6/19/16.

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Because it’s Father’s Day, I can’t help but tell a story about my dad. When I was growing up, he was my slowpitch softball coach. There were a few infamous years playing for the team CCI Printing. We were young, little girls in hats and shirts too big for them. I remember a 32” bat that was my favorite.

Now, we weren’t the best team in the league. By a long shot. For some of us, this was our first time playing softball.

As it turns out, that year we lost to every other team in the league. This was, in part, because my dad had a philosophy that we should all be learning how to play different positions and get practice batting. Pretty good thought when teaching kids, not the best strategy if you’re trying to be competitive.

But, there was redemption for the CCI Printing softball team. Because although we lost to every team, we also ending up beating every team. Including the undefeated team of the league.

I remember that game. But more than that, I remember that team. I remember that we all got a chance to try new things. And more importantly, no one was left out. That’s what I really remember, that we all were welcome, which is why I’m telling you this story. So thanks, Dad.

We asked this morning that you wear a shirt to represent one of your teams. I’m wearing my college shirt, Baldwin Wallace College.I know there are a lot of Cavs fans here today, but what else do we have represented? Go ahead and shout it out!

Being part of a team matters to us. School colors, team jerseys, mascots--they all matter in showing us where we belong. Just ask the Forest Hill softball team about their new green jerseys. Or ask a Pittsburgh sports fan what color they bleed. Just imagine if I would have shown up in royal blue and yellow this morning--you all might have booed me.

We saw some more team colors this week. In support and love for the LGBTQ community, a sea of rainbows emerged this week. Showing a rainbow became a way to say, I love you, I’m on your team. That’s why we have that rainbow on the front of our bulletin.

We all need to hear that we belong, that we are loved, that we have been chosen, that we are allowed on the team.

This is no different than what is happening with the Galatians.

Early groups of Christians like those in Galatia were trying to figure out who was on their team and where they belonged. Jesus had preached his message in synagogues, to religious leaders. And as Jesus was a Jew, along with other churches leaders like Peter and Paul, it seemed like the newly forming church could be an extension of the Jewish faith.

But there were the Gentiles, or Greeks. These people did not follow the Torah, or law. Yet they were being drawn to the message of Jesus. How could they get on this team? Did they have to become Jewish?

What Paul explains in Galatians is that this new community isn’t for just for Jews or Greeks, but for everyone. Something new was forming. And Paul is clear that there was nothing wrong with following the law, with being a Jew, or being a Gentile. What was clear was that Jesus wouldn’t leave anyone out, and so these early groups of Christians had to figure out a way to be together.

Paul had met the people in Galatia before. He had been with them as they had become a community together. From what we know, it seemed like the Galatians had a great team, not in a small part because everyone was welcome. The church in Galatia had been made up of both Jews and Gentiles.

These distinctions don’t matter to us in the same way anymore. It can be difficult to read Galatians without understanding what is going on with the Jews and Gentiles. But it is easy to see that Paul is very frustrated with the people in Galatia because they have started excluding Gentiles again. The way I see it is this. Paul had been with them and they had found a way to to be together, in spite of their differences. But they had lost sight of that. They got tied up in discussions about rules that kept people in and out. It makes sense that Paul is mad.

Paul was frustrated, but he encouraged the Galatians with a message of unity. There is neither Jew nor Greek; there is neither slave nor free; nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. Now if you belong to Christ, then indeed you are Abraham’s descendants, heirs according to the promise.

It’s not just a small group of you, Paul says. You all belong to Christ. So don’t go back to your old divided ways. You are a team.

The Galatians are given what I like to think of as their team colors. Above all, they are to be clothed with Christ.

This is a fairly abstract thing to tell a person, but it’s a favorite metaphor of Paul’s. I wonder what the world would look like if Paul would have said something like, “And be sure to wear red because then everyone will know that you are part of the church.” Instead Paul addresses an identity change.

We have something for you this morning to represent that identity that Paul is talking about. Because to be clothed with Christ doesn’t mean just putting on a new jersey. This is one size fits all. It’s about knowing who you are and whose you are. We are all still going to have our differences, but at our core, we can know that we are a child of God. What Galatians tells me is that the church is not about hard and fast boundaries but letting people know that they belong.

You’re an Indians fan? Child of God. Heights fan? Child of God. Golden State fan? Child of God.

You are all God’s children through faith in Christ Jesus. So take this name tag to be reminded of that.

Over the past few months I have been working with the Discernment Task Force. That’s a very official title for a group that has also been a bible study, a prayer group, a sports analysis round table, a technology class, and a whole lot more. I have been so grateful to be a member of this group. We span in age over seventy years and represent a whole variety of demographics and viewpoints.  It’s a great team. And I believe that there is no other setting but the church that we would have all be brought together in the same place.

Often at the end of our meetings we go around the table and ask how everyone thought our time together has been. This is one of the best things we do. Everyone speaks, everyone listens. And it’s usually in that closing circle that I am reminded that none of us could do this alone.

And when I want to tell people about Jesus, this is what I want to tell them about. It’s a room full of people clothed with Christ, listening patiently to one another. Each one of us bringing our own unique identity, but certain that we are children of God.

My hope for all of you is that this is your experience of church. I hope that when we gather together, you are surrounded by people who are different than you are. I hope that you get to both listen and speak. I hope that you find a team of people that love and support you for who you are.

After a week like this, where violence and prejudice threaten us, that is our message we get to take out into the world and it is so needed. Tell people they are loved. Tell people they belong. Tell people we don’t have it figured out, but we still come together as children of God. 

Amen.

Transfigured

A sermon based on Transfiguration texts preached at Forest Hill Church, Presbyterian in Cleveland Heights, OH on 2/7/16.  You can listen to the sermon and readings here.

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One of my favorite musicians is Sufjan Stevens.  Just this morning, I was listening to Spotify and eating my bagel and his song, “The Only Thing” came up on shuffle.  It’s a really beautiful song.  But what kept sticking out to me, as I was preparing to preach, was the line, “Everything I see returns to you somehow.”  Now, his lyrics are usually a little cryptic, so it’s hard to tell exactly what he’s talking about and my lyric comprehension isn’t strong.  But I kept hearing was the way that when we gather as church and read scripture together, everything keeps pointing back to God.  Everything I see returns to you somehow.  It’s one of those things that keeps an introvert like myself showing up to lead worship week after week.  I truly believe that we’re just trying to reflect something of God, that when I preach it’s best if the words aren’t my own.  

This week, that’s going to more obviously true.  As a preacher, you’re called upon to preach the word, but sometimes the word preaches itself.  Today is one of those days.  The first thing you need to know is that when preaching, I don’t pick the scripture.  John Lois, and I, for the most part, follow the Revised Common Lectionary.  I would recommend the wikipedia article on the Revised Common Lectionary for all the details, but what’s important for today is for you to know that I don’t typically choose from the entire bible which scripture I preach on in any given week.  Instead, the lectionary has four readings for each week, an Old Testament reading, Psalm, Gospel reading from Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John, and then a New Testament reading.  When I preach then I look up these readings and pray and discern which one or two seems to be the best fit for the congregation at this time.  Then, it is the preacher’s job to help interpret the text and help look for God’s movement.  

When I was assigned to preach this week, the first thing I did was look up the four readings you have in your bulletin today.  They were four good readings, all in some way about the Transfiguration of Jesus. And they each were like mini-sermons, reflecting on the previous text, making connections, telling stories--everything a good preacher is supposed to do.   

What happened then is that I had these four texts in front of me and I couldn’t choose between them.  So, I didn’t.  Today we’re going to hear all four read and you’ll hear from me just a little bit in between each reading.  Scripture is something that shines light into each of our lives.  It’s part of what returns us to God.  With so much scripture I imagine there will be something that will speak to you.  I invite you as we listen today to underline words or phrases that are meaningful to you, to write down your questions in the margins of your bulletin.  Most of all, I invite you to listen with an open heart and mind.  If you’re not familiar with reading a lot of scripture it can feel awkward, like reading Shakespeare for the first time.  But my seminary degree doesn’t make my interpretation any more valid than yours and your own insights are likely going to allow God to speak to you in a way I will never be able to.  

The glory of God is going to come to us through these texts if we can just get out of the way.

Let’s begin when this story begins, in the book of Exodus. 

Exodus 34:29-35

34:29 Moses came down from Mount Sinai. As he came down from the mountain with the two tablets of the covenant in his hand, Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God.

34:30 When Aaron and all the Israelites saw Moses, the skin of his face was shining, and they were afraid to come near him.

34:31 But Moses called to them; and Aaron and all the leaders of the congregation returned to him, and Moses spoke with them.

34:32 Afterward all the Israelites came near, and he gave them in commandment all that the LORD had spoken with him on Mount Sinai.

34:33 When Moses had finished speaking with them, he put a veil on his face;

34:34 but whenever Moses went in before the LORD to speak with him, he would take the veil off, until he came out; and when he came out, and told the Israelites what he had been commanded,

34:35 the Israelites would see the face of Moses, that the skin of his face was shining; and Moses would put the veil on his face again, until he went in to speak with him.

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This is where it all begins, with the mysterious story of Moses’ face shining and the veil he used to cover it.  What made Moses’ face shine?  Well, this says it’s because he had been talking with God.  

Moses has become a visible sign of God’s presence.  And for the Israelites, they have to look away.  Even the leaders were afraid of Moses.  Something that bright, that holy was too much for them.  

And this has always made me wonder--if this is just Moses’s reflection, what did God look like?  

I had this song stuck in my head this week, with all of these thoughts of shining.  If you know it, feel free to join in:

This little light of mine,

I’m gonna let it shine

This little light of mine,

I’m gonna let it shine

This little light of mine

I’m gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine

Psalm 99

99:1 The LORD is king; let the peoples tremble! He sits enthroned upon the cherubim; let the earth quake!

99:2 The LORD is great in Zion; he is exalted over all the peoples.

99:3 Let them praise your great and awesome name. Holy is he!

99:4 Mighty King, lover of justice, you have established equity; you have executed justice and righteousness in Jacob.

99:5 Extol the LORD our God; worship at his footstool. Holy is he!

99:6 Moses and Aaron were among his priests, Samuel also was among those who called on his name. They cried to the LORD, and he answered them.

99:7 He spoke to them in the pillar of cloud; they kept his decrees, and the statutes that he gave them.

99:8 O LORD our God, you answered them; you were a forgiving God to them, but an avenger of their wrongdoings.

99:9 Extol the LORD our God, and worship at his holy mountain; for the LORD our God is holy.

***

What do we do when we encounter God?  Psalm 99 tells us that the peoples tremble and that the earth quakes, for the LORD our God is holy.  This psalm reminds us that the God who caused Moses’ face to shine is a holy God, worthy of reverence.  God is holy, because God is totally other and radically different from what we can imagine ourselves.  

We continue coming back to the mountain, worshiping this mighty and awesome God.  

And yet, God chooses to be revealed through us.  

Sing with me, 

This little light of mine,

I’m gonna let it shine

This little light of mine,

I’m gonna let it shine

This little light of mine

I’m gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine

Luke 9:28-36

9:28 Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray.

9:29 And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.

9:30 Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him.

9:31 They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.

9:32 Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him.

9:33 Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, "Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah" -- not knowing what he said.

9:34 While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud.

9:35 Then from the cloud came a voice that said, "This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!"

9:36 When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.

***

This is the story that we call the transfiguration of Jesus, and what a weird story it is.  Again, it takes place up on the mountain, but this time Jesus goes to pray to speak with God.  

Jesus, that paradox of being fully human and fully divine, was first shown to us through the incarnation and the celebration of Christmas, the divine sharing in the human condition.  Now, in the transfiguration a human Jesus is transfigured to be like the divine.  

What was it like to see the glory of Jesus?  Can we fault Peter for wanting to stay there?

This little light of mine,

I’m gonna let it shine

This little light of mine,

I’m gonna let it shine

This little light of mine

I’m gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine

2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2

3:12 Since, then, we have such a hope, we act with great boldness,

3:13 not like Moses, who put a veil over his face to keep the people of Israel from gazing at the end of the glory that was being set aside.

3:14 But their minds were hardened. Indeed, to this very day, when they hear the reading of the old covenant, that same veil is still there, since only in Christ is it set aside.

3:15 Indeed, to this very day whenever Moses is read, a veil lies over their minds;

3:16 but when one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed.

3:17 Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.

3:18 And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit.

4:1 Therefore, since it is by God's mercy that we are engaged in this ministry, we do not lose heart.

4:2 We have renounced the shameful things that one hides; we refuse to practice cunning or to falsify God's word; but by the open statement of the truth we commend ourselves to the conscience of everyone in the sight of God.

***

The writer of 2 Corinthians hopes that we might be courageous enough to live with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord.  

I hope that we can be that light-filled and that radiant.  

These four texts overlap like colors in a kaleidoscope.  When we look through them all we practice reading broadly and generously, without favoritism.  And the result is quite beautiful.  Thomas Merton wrote, “By reading the scriptures, I am so renewed that all nature seems renewed around me and with me.  The sky seems to be a pure, a cooler blue, the trees a deeper green.  The whole world is charged with the glory of God, and I feel fire and music under my feet.”  

This is the way I hope we can look at our lives and the life of the church.  This is one of those weeks that there seems to be so much happening.  Our Black History Month celebrations are beginning just as the Lenten season is almost upon us, along with prayer classes, rallies, super bowl parties, and the list goes on.  I can give you brochures, online signups, and lists of ways to get involved until your head spins.  The practicalities don’t always seem so holy.  

But when I look for God, when I’m paying attention to where the Spirit might be moving, I am almost blinded by the light that is coming through.  The whole world is charged with the glory of God, and I feel fire and music under my feet.

Through all that we do, might the glory of God shine through us.  

Hear what the Holy Spirit is saying to God’s people.

Amen.

Joy

A sermon based on John 15:1-11 preached at Miller Chapel, Princeton Theological Seminary on 4/21/15.  For a short time, you can hear the whole service here.

* * *

There’s a lie that says there is only one proper way to share the gospel.  All pastors must look serious, wear billowy black robes, and discuss sin at length.  Professors must also look serious, but with a tie.

And I don’t have anything against robing or ties, but surely there’s another way.

That’s one of the reasons why you all are holding crayons and crossword puzzles this morning.  Growing up, I fell in love with church because attending with my family was so much fun.  My family has a variety of games we play during church, ranging from guessing how many times the pastor will say Jesus during the sermon to seeing who can sing the loudest on the last hymn.

So after years of serious seminary work, it’s always good to go back to my home church and sit next to my dad.  To this day, there’s a strong chance he’ll hand me an old children’s bulletin that he’s saved that I might have started on a Sunday morning 16 years ago.  He’s a little bit of a hoarder.  But he still expects me to do the crossword puzzle on the text for the day, no matter that I could write a detailed 8 to 10 page exegesis paper on it instead.

It’s a silly, humbling, helpful reminder that I was just as loved by God at age 8 as I am now that I nearly have a seminary degree.

It helps keep me in my place.   It reminds me that I am not the vine.  I am just a branch. I am not nearly as central or important as I think I am.  As the Gospel of John eloquently reminds me, that apart from Jesus I can do nothing.   And what a relief that is!

This good news can be a hard lesson about pride, but it can also be liberating. Living our lives attached to Jesus means we can let go of the dead things that weigh us down.  We can set down our burdens of needing to fix and save everyone, because we can leave that up to the savior.  Wee can abide in Christ.

That knowledge, that freedom is how we get to central, complete joy.

Joy, one of the fruits of the Spirit. Joy is remembering the night before you preach that it’s not about you, but what God has to say.  Joy is watching Martin Tel dance.  Joy is the freedom to be silly and sit in your own skin.   Joy is the gospel unleashed.

Have you ever seen a monk laugh?  I remember sitting with Brother Paul, a student of Thomas Merton under a ginkgo tree in the Abbey of Gesthemani.  There was something about the way his eyes were perpetually crinkled at the corners that let me know he had joy down in his heart.  Better yet, his laughter showed me and the rest of the group that our attempt to be solemn and respectful was misplaced, that there was freedom to laugh and enjoy the beauty of the green grass and bright sun, even at a monastery known for silence.

Joy is different than happiness.  I couldn’t quite get how, until I learned the sign language. Big, full of life.  Deep and slow, which is why we can’t come up with it on our own, but have to be connected to the source of life to really get it.

Therefore joy is not a simplistic dismissal of real demons of depression and grief.  It’s not a callous mandate to cheer up.  There are many times where I believe God holds onto this joy for us until we are ready to pick it up again.

But we cannot ignore the centrality of joy in the gospel.  It is the sign of God’s people freely loving and serving God.  We must open spaces for people to express the joy they have found in Jesus Christ.  We must give ourselves permission to be joyful, too.

In a class a few weeks back, Dr. Barreto read a parable called “The People’s House” written by Carlos Mesters.  I’d like to share that story with you now.  It goes like this:
At one time, there was a great house called the People’s House with a beautiful, large door opening right onto the street.  Many people passed through that door.  Then, one day, two scholars arrived.  They loved ancient things, and when they saw the house, they perceived its value.  They discovered a side door to the house where they could enter quietly and study unperturbedly, and so they started using it instead of the much travelled door of the people.

The scholars studied the house, uncovering its rich history and many beautiful qualities.  At night they would describe their discoveries to the people who more and more came to admire the house and the scholars.  Many days passed.  The people now treated the house differently.  Now they respected the house.  The didn’t dance and sing anymore.  When they entered they remained quiet, waiting in awe for the scholars to speak.  Gradually, everyone stopped using the front door and used the side door instead.  As the people would enter they would receive a guidebook explaining the ancient and rare artifacts in the house.

Eventually, the front door was completely forgotten.  Weeds grew and hid the door.  The weeds also covered the front windows so the house became dark, illuminated only by candles.

More time went by.  While the scholars continued to enter the house through its side door, holding meetings during which they argued about antiques, the humble people stopped going to the house.  The novelty of the discoveries had worn off, and the people were tired of the dark house and side entrance.  They didn’t really understand the scholars' discussions anyways.  The people walked by on the street but no longer even saw the house.  Occasionally they would pause as if lost.  Something seemed to be missing, but the people didn’t know what.  The people no longer remembered the house.

Then one night an old beggar, looking for protection against the cold, pushed his way through the weeds and found the front door of the big house.  He entered through a crack.  The house was beautiful and it was warm.  The next night the beggar came back.  Soon, he brought friends, bagladies and runaways.  They began to come every night.  The weeds were beaten back and light entered the house.  The people were happy and began to whisper, “this is our house.”  The news spread.

In the mornings, when the scholars would arrive through their side door, they would notice the signs indicating that the humble people were sneaking in at night.  The scholars called a meeting and some got mad, saying “the people are going to mess up the house.”  But one scholar hid at night in a corner of the front room and saw the people come in without asking permission to dance and sing and play in the house.  He liked what he saw.  In fact, he was so impressed that he came out of his corner and joined the circle of those were were dancing.  Then he discovered what he should have always known: that the real purpose of scholarship was to help the people to find joy in life.  After that he also started entering the house through the front door, and he saw the house in yet a new way.

All are invited.  Abide in Jesus, so that your joy may be complete.

Jonah

A sermon based on Jonah 3:1-4:11 preached at Christ Congregation, Princeton, NJ on 1/25/15.

* * *

You know you’ve hit rock bottom when you’ve been swallowed by a fish.

I don’t even like seafood, so Jonah has never been my favorite story.  Hanging out in the stomach of any kind of sea creature seems like something you’d want to avoid.

Things don’t really even get much better. At this point I would expect our hero to emerge out of the depths of his despair.  Cue the triumphant music.  I can see it now, Jonah redeems himself and saves the day! Jonah even prays in a way that makes it seem like this might be possible.

“To the roots of the mountains I sank down;
    the earth beneath barred me in forever.
But you, Lord my God,
    brought my life up from the pit,” he says.

Once Jonah has encountered this dark, dare I say slimy, place, he should emerge ready to be the prophet he was meant to be.

But was this a transformative near-death experience?  Did Jonah become a new person, excited to love all people?  Not even close.  Jonah gets out of the fish, dutifully, and quite pathetically, mumbles a one liner to the people of Ninevah, and then sets himself down outside the city, ready to sulk.  He complains to God.  He stays disconnected from the very people he was sent to communicate with.  All in all, Jonah is a grump.

And in a moment of storytelling genius, we are shown how Jonah is more upset about the loss of his beloved shade plant than the loss of human life.  Jonah had more of an emotional attachment to one shade plant than a whole city of people. It’s funny, really.  It’s a ridiculous scene, with this prophet angry and upset all because of one shriveled up plant.  We’re meant to see how disproportionate this is.

Jonah is limited. He’s preoccupied with himself. He can’t quite make that stretch to get out of his own head and pursue something beyond what feels good for him personally.  Jonah is drawn back in, swallowed up, by what keeps him comfortably in control.  He never is quite able to find the way to practice compassion.  He may have a good reason for not liking the people of Ninevah.  Everything we know seems to suggest that the people of Ninevah would have been quite awful to Jonah’s people.  And yet, we are able to watch how Jonah’s hatred cripples him.  We watch as this prophet, ready to have his moment of glory, instead stays back in what he knows, stuck in his old ways.

II. US
This has been a very uncomfortable week for many of us here in the church.  Whether you like it or not, things are changing. Jeff is resigning in August.  That’s bound to be a whole mess of conflicting emotions, for him and for us.  Suddenly there’s a search process to worry about, and the security this church has had for decades is changing. The prospect of keeping this congregation together can feel daunting.  There are big decisions looming.  

This makes me more sympathetic to Jonah.  We want to keep our shelter and shade, too.

But I hope we don’t end up like Jonah.

Which makes me want to ask, what are we preoccupied with?  What is our focus?  Both as individuals, but as a church as well.  Are we following through on the tough challenges God is putting before us, or are our eyes pointed downward on what keeps us sheltered and safe?

Today after church we have our congregational meeting.  Apart from being very excited about the sandwiches that are going to be served, I think meetings like this are a perfect time to ask these questions.  Church reports are an excellent way to tell what matters to a congregation.  What does our church report say? I think this will be the big question for our faith community.  When we make decisions, are we choosing what we like, or are we looking beyond our own shade and shelter?

I can tell you plenty of stories about congregations I’ve been a part of that betray what they truly care about through a few lines in a church report or bulletin.  There can be nothing more disheartening than walking into a church and finding that they have spilled countless ink about the state of their boiler fund and none about ways they are loving their neighbors.

If our reports are only about what’s right in front of our noses, we might be in trouble.  If Jonah teaches us anything, this sacred story reminds us that we cannot only think of ourselves.  It might make us mad, it might make us uncomfortable, and we even run away from it.  But with a sense of humor and faith in God, we may just end up a part of something more than what we could imagine on our own.

III. CHANGE
We must stretch to see the world differently.

The good news is that just by being here, you are showing a willingness to be stretched.  What we’re doing right now is part of that stretching.  Worship, through the music and liturgy, can be a transcendent experience that takes you outside of yourself.  It’s focusing our attention on God.  I’m not always sure why we sing hymns, apart from that I like singing.  But, using my seminary educated guess, I believe that part of it is turning toward God and creating a community that listens for God together. We sing words that we might not always believe in the moment, but then those words sink into who you are.

When we gather for second hour, we are stretching.  Through that time, this church does an excellent job of hearing diverse voices.  When you pause to hear about a transgender woman’s experience in the world, you are being stretched to be be kinder and more oriented to justice than what you might be on your own.

I know someone who uses the prayer of St. Patrick devotionally as a way to stretch his faith.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

He would use it as a physical prayer, stretching ahead, behind, up and down, usually right when he woke up.  I’ve always thought there was something beautiful about this type of prayer.  It’s a small way to daily pray and open ourselves to the pull of God, knowing that God will surround us, no matter the circumstances.

It takes ethical elasticity to think as God thinks.  We are limited. It is hard to love our enemies, to care for people beyond our boundaries.  I’m thankful for Jonah, because it lets me know that the people of God have been struggling this for a very long time.  It’s human to be self-interested and trapped by the immediacy of what is around us.  I’m reminded of my studies in ethics, how philosophers debate how much easier it is to save the struggling person who is right in front of you, in comparison to the starving person on the other side of the world.  That’s the natural response.  But faith coaxes us to something beyond that.

God is our standard, our hope.  Believing in God is believing that there is something better than what you can imagine.  Faith means trusting that it’s not all about you.

Jonah wanted things to go by his plan.  He even tells God, “I knew this was going to happen.  You always end up loving people.”  Jonah is mad that he didn’t get to stay home and stay away from the horrible people at Ninevah, to leave God to what God does best.

Yet God wanted Jonah there.  To push Jonah outside of any recognizable comfort zone.  The tragedy of Jonah is that he stayed locked inside himself.

Whether you have hit rock bottom, avoiding all that you are supposed to do, or have been following the tug of God on your life, know that God is clearly a God of mercy and love, always coaxing and loving us along the way.  This story of prophetic failure still ends up being a story of love.  God, in and through all things, tends to Jonah just as God’s mercy saves the city of Ninevah.  Isn’t it just the mystery of God that God can provide us with shade and then kick us out when the time is right?

Thanks be to God for that.
Amen.