Sunday, August 30, 2020

Sermon - Surrender - 13th Sunday After Pentecost (17A)

13th Sunday after Pentecost – 17A                            August 30, 2020     
Panzer Liturgical Service, Stuttgart
Exodus 3:1-15, Romans 12:9-21, 
Matthew 16:21-28                                                

“Surrender”

This passage from Matthew gives us the first of the passion predictions. Jesus’ death is not only imminent but is necessary and places him in the role of a prophet, not a ruler or a king. Peter’s response to Jesus’ death prediction is totally human. He loves Jesus and wants nothing bad to happen to him. His faith, which he proclaimed only a few verses earlier, is bound to Jesus as a person – to being with him day in and day out. I’m sure all Peter can this is: How will Jesus be able to fulfill his role and king and redeemer of the people of Israel if he is dead?

We want to think Peter gets it – he actually has flashes of understanding. But just as quickly, he loses focus on the truth of why Jesus has come. Jesus’ purpose is “other.” God did not send Jesus to fulfill our expectations. Instead, Jesus came to usher in an alternative kingdom, a radically different way of exercising rulership and authority. Just a few verses earlier Jesus asked Peter, “Who do you say that I am?” Peter’s response was definitive, “You are the Christ, the son of the living God.”

But despite Peter’s revelation from God, he continues to think in purely human terms – reasonable, logically, and in hopes for the anticipated outcome. Israel’s expectation had always been for a king like David, who would come to rescue them from their oppressors. But Jesus wasn’t that kind of king. Jesus’ reaction is to call Peter to a renewed and deeper form of discipleship. “Fall in line, Peter,” Jesus says. “I am going to the cross – now pick up yours and follow me.”

This scene makes an important theological claim about Jesus: Jesus’ death was not a meaningless event. Jesus was not a hopeless and helpless victim. He was a knowing and willing participant in the divine strategy to bring humanity into a fuller relationship with God. And in this part of Jesus’ story, there are lessons for us to learn.

First, Christ calls us to a way of life that is opposite of the prevailing culture.  Self-denial is not a part of our culture’s image of “the good life.” It’s currently in our American nature to acquire, to get, to have more and more. But Jesus tells us to lose or hate our lives in order to gain something more than things. What does Jesus mean by that? Does he really want us to hate ourselves? No, I don’t think that’s what he’s saying. But he does want us to stopping looking to ourselves or others for our purpose or happiness or fulfillment. He wants us to look to him for our joy. He asks us to let him drive. With no GPS or map. To follow him on an unknown journey.

When my niece turned five, she came with her family to visit us in Germany. When we woke up that day, we told her that we had planned a big surprise for her birthday, but she would have to wait until we got there to know what it was. She pondered that for a little while, and then came to me and said, “Aunt Deb, I don’t like surprises, but I can keep a secret, so if you tell me what we’re going to do, I promise not to tell anyone.” I know exactly how she feels.

Moving from place to place has been such a challenge for me – 11 moves in 25 years… thinking ahead to retirement is giving me the same kind of disquiet. When should it happen? Where will we live? … and what about church… and making new friends… and finding purpose outside of the work that defines us? Lord, I don’t like surprises, and yet I’m always amazed when, looking back, I see how God has woven good through the things I never wanted or expected to happen.

Second, the call to discipleship is based on faith in Christ and confidence in the future victory of God. That means that sometimes, OK most of the time, things don’t go according to my plans. Taking up our crosses means reorienting our lives toward the good news that God has acted decisively and ultimately in Jesus. Following Jesus isn’t about believing that Jesus gives us good advice. The Christian life doesn’t consist of boxes that can be checked off – OK did that mission project, memorized that scripture, have the right friends, check, check, check. No, Jesus’ life turns us in a different direction.

I think about the story of the Good Neighbor, which we also know as the Good Samaritan. The lawyer and the priest were so boxed in by the religious rules they observed that they missed the point of it all. They had all the correct answers, but they didn’t do what was really required of them… they did not help someone in need. Jesus’ instructions only make sense to us if we really believe he is the One who came to save us from our sins and from ourselves. Being a good person is not enough. We each have to come to the conclusion that it’s all about him, and not about each of us.

Third, the call to discipleship is a matter of confession and community. In the original Greek the word we translate as “confession” comes from the word martyrion, which is also the root word for martyr. We hear that word and think of ultimate martyrdom – giving one’s life for the faith. But being a martyr is not just about dying for the faith. It’s about living the whole of our lives as an act of testimony to something bigger than ourselves. This is something we are called to do every day, every hour.

Each act of worship, each act of service, each act of study is a giving of ourselves to Christ. And in this we are not alone. Being a follower of Jesus Christ is not an individualistic ethic of the solitary “I” but is an ethic for the community of disciples that confesses Jesus Christ to be the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of the living God. This is not to say that we do not need to experience Christ alone and for ourselves, but we do need each other. Even Tom Hanks needed a Wilson to make it long enough to get rescued from that deserted island in the Pacific Ocean. 

Jesus gathered a group of people around him to learn and serve and to be accountable to one another. From the very beginnings of the Christian church, people gathered to worship and serve and care for one another. In 1 Corinthians 12, Paul reminds us that not everyone has all the gifts necessary to do the work of the church, but that each of us provides a necessary piece of the puzzle. In baptism, at the communion table, at marriages and funerals, in bible studies and committee meetings, we are called to realize that all voices and hands are necessary to accomplish God’s work on earth. [i]

And lastly, the call to discipleship cannot be learned in a day. These lessons are the lessons of a lifetime. We are often hard on ourselves, saying, “Well, I keep messing up, so I’m just going to throw in the towel.” God doesn’t want that from us. We are just like everyone else who has attempted to be in relationship with God … like Adam and Eve, Moses and Jonah, Peter and Paul. We make mistakes. We get it wrong, but then we start over. And as we learn from our mistakes, and see the witnesses of those who serve the Kingdom of God, we refocus our eyes on him, pick up that cross and begin the journey again.

Max Lucado has written a book entitled, “It’s Not About Me: Rescue from the Life We Thought Would Make Us Happy.” In the forward, NBA star David Robinson, writes about how successful sports teams function best when everyone has one goal in mind. All efforts and gifts are concentrated on the greater goal – winning, and that those who seek their own glory drive the team away from success.[ii]

We fight an uphill battle as disciples of Jesus Christ. Everything around us tells us to look out for our own good. It is only by letting go of our own agenda’s and timetables that we can discover God’s mind-blowing plan for our lives. The only thing we have to do is believe that it’s all about Him - our worship and work, our bodies and families, our success and our struggles. Easy – no, but fulfilling in ways that we have never even imagined.[iii]

Jackie Robinson would have been 101 years old this year. He is probably best known for his contribution to baseball. In 1947, he became the first black player to play for a major league baseball franchise. But before that, he was a standout student at UCLA, playing baseball, basketball, and running track and field. Baseball wasn’t even his best sport.

73 years later, we remember his contribution to the integration of professional sports. But we don’t often think about how difficult is was for him to stand up to the racist hatred reigned on him by fans and rival players alike. Some days, it took every ounce of courage he had to walk out onto the field. Some nights, he cried and shook with anger at the hate that seemed to confront him at every turn. Jackie Robinson’s faith served as inspiration and motivation, comfort and strength, wisdom and direction. Some say it was the secret to his success, grounding him to face whatever would come his way.

Later in life, he would become active in the civil rights movement in the US, but before that he was #42 for the Brooklyn Dodgers, shattering racial and athletics barriers on and off the baseball field.[iv] His teammates reminded him often that his courage gave them courage to change long held beliefs and move into an new era of baseball and life. Even in the end of his life he left us a good word, with this quote chiseled into his tombstone in Brooklyn, NY: “A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives.”[v]

Our pain, our difficulties, our disappointments, they are not outside the scope of God’s love. Focusing on that all-consuming love, we realize that all things can give glory to God. Even in cancer and recovery and even death, if it comes to that, God’s power will reign. Max Lucado writes, “Your pain has a purpose. Your problems, struggles, heartaches and hassles cooperate toward one end – the glory of God… Faith in the face of suffering cranks up the volume of God’s song.”[vi]

I don’t want to minimize the pain of our struggles. The losses we experience are real. They wound us to our core. But if Jesus’ death and resurrection teach of nothing else, it is that God is present in the middle of the storm, and will see us to the other side. We are never alone.

So ultimately what do we do? I think that Jesus is asking us for something that we really don’t want to give. He is asking us to surrender to him. To give him our whole lives, “lock, stock and barrel.” He wants it all - our jobs, our families, our money, our time. 


We’re hearing a lot of God-talk in today’s society. But are we seeing the walk to match? Do our lives reflect the way we talk about who God is to us? In all of this study and prayer, I realize that I need to take another look in the mirror – I’ve got a lot more work to do. But God is good and waiting for us to come and follow him.

Thanks be to God!  Amen.

Lord, hear the words of an unknown confederate soldier and know that they are our words, too.

I asked God for strength, that I might achieve;
I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey.
I asked for health, that I might do greater things;
I was given infirmity, that I might do better things.
I asked for riches, that I might be happy;
I was given poverty, that I might be wise.
I asked for power, that I might have the praise of men;
I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God.
I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life;
I was given life, that I might enjoy all things.
I got nothing that I asked for, but everything I hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.
I am among all [men] most richly blessed.[vii]

Jesus’ name. Amen.

 

This stuff didn’t fit into the sermon but I felt the need to share:

Did you know that every MLB team retired the jersey #42 in 1997 in honor of Jackie Robinson's contribution to baseball?

Jackie Robinson Day is usually remembered on April 15th each year, but with the 2020 COVID-19 crisis, that celebration was delayed until August 28, coinciding with the 57th anniversary of the first March on Washington and MLK’s I Have a Dream speech. At the same time, protests were occurring in Kenosha, WI and throughout the US in protest of the shooting of black persons by police, most recently Jacob Blake. On August 27th, one stark remembrance saw the NY Mets and Miami Marlins line on the opposing baseline, observe 42 seconds of silence, and then leave the stadium without throwing a single ball, leaving only a Black Lives Matter t-shirt blanketing home plate. Other teams made similar tributes. Teams from the NBA, MLS, MLB, WNBA, NFL, and professional tennis, refused to play until the teams could have conversations about the inequity of racial justice in the US and how they could contribute to bringing these issues to the forefront of national conversation and action. 

To hear more of Jackie’s words, check this MLB video showed at all the games on August 28th. “4 Us 2 Remember – MLB’s tribute to Jackie Robinson in his own words” https://twitter.com/MLB/status/1299361104259317760

Here’s a great article with MLB tributes to Jackie Robinson 2020 https://www.washingtonpost.com/sports/2020/08/29/mlb-jackie-robinson-day/

 



[i] Matthew – New Interpreter’s Bible – by M Eugene Boring, 1995, pp 342-352.
[ii] It’s Not About Me, forward by David Robinson, 2004, pages xiii-xiv.
[iii] It’s Not About Me, Max Lucado, index of chapters.
[iv] Chris Lamb, “Jackie Robinson’s 100th Birthday – His faith in God was the secret ingredient to his success,” Fox News, January 28, 2019.
[v] Clemente Lisi, “Jackie Robinson’s Forgotten Christianity” Religion Unplugged, February 20, 2019.
[vi] It’s Not About Me, Max Lucado, ppage 124-126.
[vii] The Oxford Book of Prayer, George Appleton, editor, 1985, page 119.


Sunday, August 16, 2020

Sermon - What's the Plan? (Proper 15A)

11th Sunday after Pentecost - Proper 15A         August 16, 2020

Genesis 45:1-15, Matthew 15: (10-20), 21-28 Panzer Liturgical Service, Stuttgart

Where is God When It Hurts? -- Philip Yancey
When Bad Things Happen to Good People – Harold Kushner.
Everything Happens for a Reason and Other Lies I’ve Loved – Kate Bowler.

These are some of my favorite books on the question of theodicy, which asks why God allows for evil and suffering to exist in the world. I can’t tell you the number of times this question comes up. On 9/11, my phone rang off the hook with people asking, “Where was God?” and “what do I say to my kids about how this kind of thing could happen” With people sitting in hospital waiting rooms, or in funeral homes, or living rooms, folks asking if the cancer, or miscarriage, or rebellious family member was a penalty from some past sin or mistake.

Does God have a plan for our lives? Isn’t that the question we ask? 

We live in a world that sees cause and effect. If this… then that. It’s easy to be on board with God’s plan when life is going well. But when it’s not, many people will give up, wondering why we would love or trust a God who allows bad things to happen, often catapulting us on to a very different course. That’s the story we’ve been following in Genesis.  

Last week we heard the beginning of the Joseph saga, about his brothers’ jealousy, and this week we work our way to the conclusion of the story. The power of today’s lesson builds on what happened in between last week and this week’s readings. Joseph becomes a slave in the house of Pharaoh, is accused of unspeakable things with Potiphar’s wife, ends up in prison, and redeems himself by correctly interpreting Pharaoh’s dream, predicting a famine of seven years. With Joseph’s help, Pharaoh is able to store up enough food for Egypt to survive. Meanwhile, Joseph’s family is suffering and when they reach the end of their rope, they go to Egypt to beg for assistance to keep their people from starving to death.

When they arrive in Egypt and see the governor who would make the decision on whether to help them or not, they do not recognize him, and before we think Joseph too saintly, he does mess with them a little, accusing them of spying and theft, sending them home with a small payload of wheat, and having them return with the youngest brother before revealing his true identity. 

Make no mistake, the brothers were at their wit’s end – Joseph set up an elaborate scheme which feels a little like payback when you read the story in one sitting. But ultimately, Joseph can no longer keep who he is a secret, and he reveals himself as the brother they threw into the pit. Verse 3 tells us, ‘And the brothers were dismayed…’

And so, the story comes full circle. The brothers do in fact kneel at Joseph’s feet, (remember, that’s why they wanted to get rid of him in the first place), but not in the way they expected. Joseph is not demanding this in servitude – instead they kneel in gratitude for the help they receive. Once jealous, now they are grateful. Once they were abusers of him, but now he shows grace and mercy.

That doesn’t mean that there isn’t justice. While Joseph does not cast blame upon his brothers, eliminating the possibility of a grudge, he is also quick to give credit elsewhere. In the end, God is the hero of the story. 

This takes us back to our beginning questions. If it was God who brought Joseph to Egypt, does that automatically pardon the brothers for their terrible misdeeds? Does this story show that everything really does happen for a reason, that God has some sort of master plan? Some might read Joseph’s statement that way, but I see him pointing in a different direction. 

First, he reminds his brothers (and the readers) that while they are forgiven, they don’t get to claim credit for where Joseph is today – no opportunity for the brothers to say, “aren’t you glad we pushed you in that pit?” No, Joseph in no way thanks his brother. But he does forgive them, putting their treacherous behavior in the past.

Second, Joseph’s answer does indicate that God does have a plan – but it’s not a plan that charts every breath or step. No, God’s plan from the beginning is a plan of redemption, of partnership with God. The bible is a record of that plan, of how God’s people mess it up, and how God adapts and adjusts, fulfilling the plan of redemption in new and different ways. From the beginning, Joseph knew that God had a plan. And that plan came to pass even when people worked hard to interrupt it at many points along the way. 

This story shows, as most of them do, that God is more powerful than our sins. God is able to overcome them and redeem them, in spite of the choices we make. But if we trust God, and like Joseph, are willing to forgive and see God’s presence, even in our difficulties, God gets what God wants, despite our interference along the way. We should never be so bold as to claim that our actions were part of the plan, or that our sins were necessary evils along the way. Rather, they were just something that God redeemed while healing the world.

The book of Genesis is not a story about how God set a plan in motion and saw it through on God’s timeline. The book starts out with God’s original plan, where the people walk side-by-side with God in the Garden of Eden. God didn’t close the garden because there was something better outside – no, we did that to ourselves, letting sin corrupt our lives and our relationship with God. 

The good news is that in Genesis and throughout the biblical story, we see how God takes those mistakes and sinful actions and redeem them, in spite of all the roadblocks we throw up along the way. God is not a master puppeteer, controlling all of our movements and moments to make a specific outcome a reality. If anything, the scripture and history show how God is able to roll with the punches – to say, ‘Ok, there are consequences to that bad choice, but I’m not going to abandon you.’ If we say that everything happens for a reason or that the bad stuff is all a part of God’s plan, then we excuse the part we play in our own failures and our own successes. 

Instead of saying that everything happens for a reason, we might instead say that God redeems everything in spite of us. Who knows what would have happened if the brothers had not sold Joseph into slavery? They thought the worst thing in the world would be to kneel before Joseph and they compounded their mistakes to make sure that didn’t happen. They tried to prevent Joseph’s dream from coming true, but in the end, God took the sins of the brothers, the lies of Potiphar’s wife, Joseph’s time in prison, and redeemed them so that God’s ultimate will – for salvation and reconciliation – could be achieved. 

I think a lot of people are worried that it lessens the sovereignty of God if we say that things don’t always happen for a reason. In reality, Joseph proves to us how persistent and powerful God really is. Sin may be a temporary roadblock, but ultimately it cannot upend God’s real plan to bring us all back into relationship with God’s own self. The sins of the brothers should have separated them from God’s blessing for their egregious behavior. Instead, we see an amazing display of mercy that God pours out on the family, allowing them a prominent place in the eventual formation of the Kingdom of Israel. If nothing else, this story reminds us that whenever sin tries to intervene, all it succeeds in doing is amplifying how mighty God really is.

I worked really hard not to preach on the Canaanite woman from Matthew, but I think that she does teach us an important lesson. We often focus on the negatives in that passage. When I asked if there were any changes people wanted to make in our liturgy this summer, many people, including me, were happy to see the prayer of humble access go – for time considerations, of course. 

Seriously, this prayer echoes a theology of Last Supper rather than Holy Eucharist, of sacrifice over thanksgiving. People were told to come to the table with fear and trembling.  The liturgy instructed them to not come to the table unless they believed and understood and fully contemplated the severe nature of Christ’s sacrifice for us. It was as if the liturgy were saying, “Jesus died for us and coming to this table is a somber and sacred business. Only come if your serious and a little bit scared.  Or you’ll be in big trouble.”  

Too many times we behave as if we deserve everything… better jobs, bigger cars and houses, more important reputations.  The Canaanite woman’s story reminds us that we deserve nothing but God’s condemnation.  But God has given us what we don’t deserve; life, choices, and God’s presence even when things are hard. And he gave us a Savior who was willing to die so that we could live… a Savior who didn’t expect anything in return, except our belief in God’s goodness and our faith that Jesus was the most faithful conduit to God’s grace. God had a plan. 

The Gentile woman provides a sharp contrast to the Pharisees and scribes who seemed determined to cause problems for Jesus, as well as the many Jews who rejected Him as the Messiah.  This woman, a representative of all people who believe, recognizes Jesus as the Lord who has mercy, who exorcises the demons of our lives and who, through His actions, invites all people to God's table. 

With love as the motivator of our actions, we are brought closer to God’s presence, even at the risk of being rejected.  This woman realized that a day spent under Jesus’ table was infinitely preferable to a lifetime spent in the courts of an earthly king to trying to measure up to the status quo.  That kind of love is precious, and usually born of pain and need so deep that it can be felt at a glance.

God’s plan is simple. God wants us to love him and he wants us to love each other. If there is any redemption in the phrase, “everything happens for a reason,” it must be in our realization that God is calling us to live out the plan every day, in every circumstance, as a part of who we were created to be.

Love God. Love others. Love redeems. That’s the plan.

As we close, hear the words from the Prayer of Humble Access… hear them from beginning to end, and receive with joy the message of hope they bring.

Let us pray:

We do not presume to come to this your table, O merciful Lord,
trusting in our own righteousness,
but in your abundant and great mercies.
We are not worthy so much as to gather up
the crumbs under your table;
but you are the same Lord
whose character is always to have mercy.
Grant us, therefore, gracious Lord,
so to eat the flesh of your dear Son Jesus Christ,
and to drink his blood,
that our sinful bodies may be made clean by his body,
and our souls washed through his most precious blood,
and that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us.  Amen.

 

Resources:
Roger Nam, August 16, 2020
https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4547
 
Beth Tanner, August 20, 2017
https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3368
 
Alan Stanton, Pulpit Resource, Volume 48, No. 3, Year A
Prayer of Humble Access - BCP 1989

Monday, August 10, 2020

Sermon - Trusting enough to get out of the boat - Proper 14A

Proper 14A (10th Sunday after Pentecost)                           August 9, 2020

Matthew 14:23-33                                     Panzer Liturgical Service, Stuttgart

In his book, If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat, pastor John Ortberg tells a story about an unexpected birthday gift from his wife, a hot air balloon ride for two. When they arrived at the field where the balloons were tethered, he climbed in the basket with his wife, the pilot, and another couple, and off they went.

It was a beautiful day, flying high between the California mountains and the Pacific coastline. The majesty of the scene took his breath away. But soon he realized that he was feeling something unexpected… fear.

He always thought those baskets went about chest high, but this one only came up to their knees. He worried that one good wind would be enough to pitch someone overboard. One look at his wife told him that she was even more uncomfortable than he. So, he decided that if he got into a conversation with the balloon pilot, it would make him feel calmer. “How did you get started flying balloons,” he asked.

“Dude, it’s like this.…” Uh oh… it turns out the guy actually didn’t have a job but was a local surfer who did this a little money on the side. He went on to explain that he got started flying hot-air balloons after he had crashed his truck drunk-driving, injuring his brother. While his brother was recovering, the driver-brother learned to pilot balloons so that he could take his brother for a ride. 

“By the way,” he added, “if things get a little choppy on the way down, don’t be surprised. I’ve never flown this particular balloon before, and I’m not sure how it’s going to handle the descent.”

John’s wife looked over at him and said, “You mean to tell me we are a thousand feet up in the air with an unemployed surfer who started flying hot-air balloons because he got drunk, crashed a pickup, injured his brother has never been in this balloon before and doesn’t know how to bring it down?”

Then the wife of the other couple looked at John and said, “You’re a pastor. Do something religious.” “You mean, like taking up an offering?” John asked. They were not amused. In hindsight, he realized that the real question of the day was, “Can I trust the pilot?” You know how it is. We tell ourselves that everything will be OK – that a positive attitude makes for a pleasant journey. But in the end, John realized that the real issue concerned the dude who was flying the balloon.[i]

Our gospel lesson today falls immediately after our lesson from last week – Jesus feeding the multitude by the sea. When Jesus hears of the death of John the Baptist, he retreats to a place alone, to pray and I’m sure to wonder what would come next. The disciples head out to cross the water in a boat – the kind that they were familiar with, in the same waters where they had fished before. But as the small storm buffeted them around, they realized that this didn’t feel like anything they had been through before.[ii]

(c) Deb Teagan - Israel 2019
(c) Deb Teagan - Israel 2019
The language of the original text speaks of a storm that “torments” the boat… the disciples did everything they could to keep the boat from going down. It was then that one of the disciples noticed a shadowy figure walking toward them… on the water. Frightened and amazed, they realized that the closer Jesus got, the calmer the sea became. Jesus’ presence was their port in the storm, even in the middle of the water. His presence with them said, “You can trust me. Your destiny is in my hands and it will be OK.”[iii]

Peter, never one to mince words, blurted out, “If it is you, Lord, then command me to walk on the water to you.” Jesus responded with just one word. “Come.” Peter, feeling himself sinking, cried out, “Save me, Lord.” And Jesus reached out a hand, reminding Peter that doubt is often the greatest enemy.

We talk about this as the story of Jesus walking on water. But what if it’s bigger than that? What if the lessons to learn come from what happened next? The more I read this story, the more I realize that we aren’t meant to live this life of faith with our own power or instinct alone. We are created to be in relationship with, and walking with, the One in whose image we are created.

At its core, this passage is about radical discipleship. It reminds us that Jesus asks us every day to do some amazing, scary things. Sometimes, they make no sense to us. They are outside our comfort zones. They require us to behave ways that seem unsafe or outside of the world’s expectations. And like Peter, in the middle of our water-walking, we feel ourselves slipping under, unsure of our path, and fearful of the way ahead.

25 years – that’s how long I’ve been a military spouse. And it didn’t take me too long to realize that some duty stations are more desirable than others. We have had some great postings, including living in Germany twice, but we have also gone to a few places where people asked, “Who did you make mad?” but using more colorful language. To many, those assignments are seen as a punishment, or as a place to fly under the radar. “How soon can we leave?” is often the question.

But those wilderness assignments were some of our best. Those were the places where I made the best friends, where my unique contributions to life were best received. And it was in those places that I learned one of the most important lessons of my entire faith journey. And this is it… life isn’t always about either/or.

We get lured into thinking that we are choosing between two things. In this year alone we have been inundated with choices: masks or no-masks; virtual school or going in person; travel or no travel, and if we go, how many times will we change the destination before we actually leave – if we even go at all. All of the decisions we’ve had to consider during these COVID-19 days feel consequential, not just for our own health and the health of our families. Like it or not, my choices also affect the health of the whole community and even the world.

And add to that the choices for our upcoming US elections, decisions rooted in our understanding of climate change, our reactions to racial tensions, poverty, and homelessness, and what inclusion looks like for the church and democracy… it’s so overwhelming, we can be paralyzed into doing nothing at all. Hear me, friends, I’m not saying that taking time for self-care is wrong – Jesus actually models that for us here and at other times in the Gospels. But willfully choosing to do nothing when we can do something – that’s often where our problems get us off track.

That is what Paul is talking about in Romans 10. 

12 For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; the same Lord is Lord of all and is generous to all who call on him. 13 For, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.” 14 But how are they to call on one in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him? 15 And how are they to proclaim him unless they are sent? 

We are often called to navigate through multiple options, some of which would have seemed improbable or impossible at some time in our pasts. I look at Peter, who is so filled with his faith in Jesus that he gets out of a boat on choppy seas and begins to walk Jesus’ way. I’m sure his boatmates were shocked – maybe they were even trying to keep him from taking that first step. It’s only when Peter becomes distracted by the storm around him that he begins to sink. And while many interpret Jesus’ response as a rebuke, I am just as inclined to see him as the parent encouraging their kid who has jumped from the side of the pool, “Hey, I’m here, don’t worry, keep trusting me, I won’t let you sink.”

Earlier, we heard the story of Joseph and his brothers. Some of us might have been distracted by scenes and songs from “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat,” while we were hearing this story of betrayal and human depravity – there’s not much worse than throwing your brother in a pit with no water in the desert, and then sitting down nearby to eat a good lunch… unless it’s planning to sell him into slavery and when realizing he was no longer in the pit, pretending he got killed by a wild animal so that their father wouldn’t know what they did… All in all, Joseph’s brothers were pretty bad.

Next week we’ll skip ahead eight chapters and see how their story gets resolved, but I don’t want us to gloss over their horrific behavior. Each of the 10 brothers has a different reaction to what happened… some were active plotters – others hung on for the ride. But let’s not be tempted into thinking that the Joseph story is about the sovereignty of God, who makes bad things happen so that good things will eventually prevail. This is a story about how easy it is for things to go badly when we put our own desires and wants above our trust that God will to see our needs are met.[iv]

When we look back over our lives, it’s often easy to see the places where God has been at work, even when it didn’t feel like it at the time. Sometimes the choices I made were good – other times they were difficult and judged harshly by those around me. Often, I could have done better but learned important lessons in the aftermath and recovery.

In the end, I am reminded that without those experiences, I would not be the person I am today, and maybe not even in this place. God did not abandon me in those times of doubt and fear – like a good GPS, when I took a wrong turn, God was always there helping me recalculate to get me back on a new path of faithful living. And I so grateful to the friends and faithful who helped me along the way.

Our faith journeys are not just important to our own spiritual and physical well-being. They are also necessary to the lives of those we meet along the way. Because how will people understand the joy and the challenges of faith in Jesus Christ unless they see it lived out in us? Our willingness to get out of the boat gives others the courage to do the same. 

John Ortberg's question comes back to me as we close out today: Do I trust the pilot of this ship? Do I trust the one who compels me to get out of the boat? If the answer is yes, if we live life to its fullest with him, we will get banged around and become disoriented. But it's OK. Jesus is not a ghost from the past or a miracle worker who comes to take our troubles away. He isn't our tour guide or life coach. He is the Son of the living God, who is present with us, and whose grace upholds us when we cannot stand by ourselves. Jesus wants more than to command our attention; he wants to save our lives. And he has promised to do just that.[v]

So what are you waiting for? Get out of the boat.

Prayer:

Lord, you have demonstrated your miracles to us countless times. You repeatedly remind us of your redemptive love and grace, and you call us to a life of discipleship, towards a promise of good news. So often, we proclaim our faith in you but stray away from what and who you have called us to be. Though we strive to do your will, we become misguided. Though we brag about our faith, we are easily discouraged. Forgive us for these sins of arrogance and faithlessness.

Thank you, that each time we fail in our faith, you are there to pull us back above the water, to calm the storms that pull us away, and to bring us back to you. Though we struggle with our own faith, your faithfulness endures. Your faithfulness brings redemption, healing, and salvation. Remind us again of your eternal love, so that we might once again find ourselves in your presence, ready and able to do your will. Lead us into a life of discipleship. Through Christ our Lord we pray. Amen.[vi]

[vi] Allan Stanton, Pulpit Resource. Vol. 48, No. 3, Year A, August 9, 2020.