Sunday, May 29, 2022

Sermon - Anticipation (Ascension Sunday C)

 Ascension Sunday – Year C                                                                              May 29, 2022
Acts 1:1-14, Luke 24:44-53                                               Panzer Liturgical Service, Stuttgart

One of the great commercials of all time was filmed in 1976 and featured a ketchup bottle and a Carly Simon song, Anticipation. This ad told us that this was ketchup so rich and thick and delicious that it was worth the wait… which is why over 40 years later it’s still the #1 ranked brand of ketchup in the world.

Modern American television focused on this idea of anticipation and gave us the cliffhanger. The present habit of binge-watching a whole season of our favorite Netflix program is amazing, but there is nothing like spending the summer wondering, “Who shot JR?”

Anticipation is a funny thing. We are used to waiting. And the anticipation of a bad thing, for me that would be going to the dentist, often makes us feel anxious or afraid. But the anticipation of good things – that is the best. Our family is anticipating the marriage of our nephew and his fiancĂ© in July. Yes, there might be bumps along the way, but we expect that it will be a joyous and fulfilling experience, and we can’t wait.

As we prepare for new experiences and opportunities, we think about how they might change our present circumstances. But anticipation can only so far because it takes information from our pasts or the experiences of others. It can’t predict the future. What happens when the events unfold in totally unexpected ways? Does our faith give us a foundation to change course midstream and follow the call of Jesus? And what happens when we do?

Time is a funny thing – we know stuff about the past and present, and we base our ideas about the future on what we already know. We know that change is coming, but it’s hard for us to wrap our minds around what that will look like. And then our anticipation turns into knowing. Our new reality starts, and what we have been waiting for becomes our new, big thing. Ready or not, here it comes.

The Ascension marks the time when Jesus’ life comes full circle. He came down from heaven. He lived. He died. He rose from the dead. And he appeared to the ones who loved him, even when they thought it was all over. But surely, they knew he would not be with them forever. They must have felt great anticipation, and joy mixed with anxiety, as their time with Jesus was coming to a close.

But isn’t this what life with Jesus was always like? He redefined expectations all the time. The gospels and the book of Acts document Jesus’ ministry as he was with people looking for the answers to life’s ultimate questions. And Jesus always led them in directions they didn’t expect.

Some examples: Everyone is waiting for a Messiah to come and save Israel, but Jesus tells them that the good news is not just for the Jews, but for everyone. In the pages of Luke’s gospel, we read about the feeding of the 5000, the parables of the Good Samaritan and the Rich Fool, and the healing of both Jews and Gentiles, believers and non-believers. We get instructions not to worry about the future, but also to be prepared. Within these different stories and scenarios, the consistent message is this: Jesus’ kingdom has a place for everyone, for shepherds and kings, for disciples and centurions, and for women and men.

Today, we hear about Jesus’ ascension, described at both the end of Luke’s gospel and the beginning of the book of Acts. It is at the same time bringing the Jesus story to a close and beginning something brand new. In the moments of his rising, Jesus ushers in a new vision of what God's kingdom must be like. After extra 40 days with Jesus, the disciples’ questions will finally be answered. No longer do they have to wonder: "When will it all happen? Now they know: “The time is almost here.”

In this last encounter, Jesus gives the disciples these instructions: "It is not for you to know about the dates and times, which the Father has set within his control. But you will bear witness for me in Jerusalem, and all over Judaea and Samaria, and a way to the ends of the earth" (7-8). And when Jesus is gone and the disciples are still looking up trying to figure out what had happened, two angels appear and ask a question and give an  instruction, “Why are you looking up, he is no longer here – go and wait for the next big thing.” (11)

These two statements help us to ask ourselves three important questions. The questions are When – Where – and How…

These are the big, ultimate questions of life, the big questions of faith: When, where, and how do we make progress on our journey to him and with him.[i]

When? In the immediate aftermath of Jesus’ resurrection, people thought that surely this would usher in the new Kingdom of God’s reign. Many of them were still holding on to the old model – mainly, the desire that Jewish people would retake control of Jerusalem and kick the Romans out. They thought the resurrected Jesus might be the one to usher that moment in. But as Jesus finally ascends, it becomes clear that is not going to happen. Yes, he will return, but you will not know the day and time. So instead of preparing for your salvation, be prepared to receive the Holy Spirit and go into the world to be witnesses of Jesus’ story.

I’m not sure that almost 2000 years later we think much about Jesus’ return – sometime in the first-century people stopped believing that it was just around the corner. Regardless of whether we think it’s near or far away, we must always be ready for his coming. And part of being ready is the duty to be witnesses to Jesus’ story… witness in our words, but also in the way we live our lives.

Where? Jesus’ ministry was always concentrated in a small region of the world. Everywhere Jesus went could be walked to within a few days' journey. But when Jesus leaves, he tells them to widen the circle of understanding… he said, “You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.” That is a mighty big expansion, and it will take more than the original disciples to make that happen. Many of them recruit new believers to journey with them… Jesus himself called Paul to ministry, a claim which Paul claimed to anyone who challenged his authority.

We have the same struggles, to go to new places to wait for the Spirit to call us into new work for the Kingdom. We are often unable to answer the call to a more purposeful ministry because we experience our anticipation as fear – fear of the unknown – fear of failure – fear of not being enough. The instructions the disciples got are the same ones we get. Be prepared for the Holy Spirit to come and give you power – strength – courage to go into new places, despite the obstacles we imagine. I remember all the pushback I got as I set out on a new journey of faith 35 years ago. Not only did family and friends question my choice, but even as I pushed forward, I remember thinking as my friends deposited me in my new apartment in Durham, NC, “Oh, no, what have I done?” But here’s the good news for each of us – the Holy Spirit does not let us sit in that fear long before giving us the confirmation and courage to that the next step of faith. We just need to be patient, not give in to our fear, and listen.

How? I’m sure the disciples had questions galore… but they waited as instructed, and next Sunday we will celebrate the beginning they were promised. The Holy Spirit not only touched them with wind and fire but pushed them into the streets to proclaim the good news about Jesus, even removing the barriers of language between the many gathered there. No one can explain how that happened – that’s often how the Spirit works.

We also wonder how we can accomplish anything of value for the Kingdom of God. Maybe we don’t think we have gifts to share. Maybe we think the powers of evil and indifference are stronger than our faith. Or maybe we don’t know or have forgotten what that Spirit feels like when it moves within our lives. The whole book of Acts is a testament to the power of the Holy Spirit within them. With that Spirit, the disciples and other followers of Jesus went on to do some pretty remarkable, but unexpected things.

They did not help restore Jerusalem to Jewish rule. They did not run the Romans out of the region. Some of them were martyred defending their faith. But they did spread the word just as Jesus asked them to… in Jerusalem, in the surrounding regions – even ones like Samaria where the people were considered to be the enemy. And with people like Paul, pushing, pushing, pushing on, Jesus’ Kingdom has spread to the ends of the earth.

Such unlikely heroes, our disciple friends… such unlikely heroes are we, too. Christian friends are defending the faith, loving people, confronting crisis, and speaking peace… they serve in places where forgotten people crave knowing, where hurting people seek relief, where starving people need food, vocal where a word of truth must be spoken. They do not do this alone… for the power of the Spirit has compelled them to step out into a new way of life. And with others, they become the presence of Christ in the world.

Author Rachel Held Evan died three years ago before her last book could be published, but her husband asked a close friend to comb through the computer files, post-it notes, and journals left behind to try to bring a new version of the book to life. The last chapter in Wholehearted Faith is called Telos. It feels quite right that our adult study discussed this chapter on Ascension Day last Thursday. She wrote:

So, we have come to the end. But as Scripture reminds us, the end is never quite the end as we typically understand it; it’s only a beginning. One of the biblical words for “end” is telos. This Greek word doesn’t have the air of finality that the English word “end” has. In other words, it’s not a dead end. To the contrary, it’s full of life, because it has a sense of completion and contentment. It carries the satisfaction of doing what you know you’re called to do and the fulfillment of being who you were always meant to be.[ii]

It's easy to think that we don’t have much to offer the Kingdom of God. But that is not true. If we are willing to offer anything, God can do amazing things with whatever we have to share. God can use even our doubt – our insecurity – our lack of vision – our fear… all of these are great gifts we bring if we will only take that first step of faith to believe in what God sees in each of us.

There’s a great 20th-century hymn that sums this up in a wonderful way. After the death of a close friend, Natalie Sleeth meditated on a line from T.S. Eliot’s “Four Quartets” — “In the end is my beginning…” Inspired, she composed a poem that unfolded in overlapping circles rather than straight lines. Written in 1985, first as an anthem, her hymn is a contemplation of contradictions — death/ resurrection, doubt/ belief, winter/ spring, song/ silence, past/ future. And they are welcome words as we think about the ends and beginnings this Ascension Day represents.

1) In the bulb there is a flower; in the seed, an apple tree;

In cocoons, a hidden promise: butterflies will soon be free!
In the cold and snow of winter there’s a spring that waits to be,
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

2) There’s a song in every silence, seeking word and melody;

There’s a dawn in every darkness, bringing hope to you and me.
From the past will come the future; what it holds, a mystery,
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

3) In our end is our beginning; in our time, infinity;

In our doubt there is believing; in our life, eternity,
In our death, a resurrection; at the last, a victory,
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.[iii]

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.


 Peace, Deb

(c) Deb Luther Teagan, May 2022



[i] Robb Mccoy & Erik Fistler, Pulpit Fiction Podcast, Ascension Day, April 19, 2020
[ii] Evans, Rachel Held; Chu, Jeff. Wholehearted Faith (p. 171). HarperOne. Kindle Edition
[iii] Natalie Sleeth, Hymn of Promise, Hope Publishing, 1986

Saturday, May 21, 2022

Sermon - Ripples of Faith (Easter 6C)

 Sixth Sunday of Easter, (Year C)                                                                   May 22,2022
Acts 16:9-15; John 14:23-29                                   Panzer Liturgical Chapel


We got a card from some Army friends this week. The husband is retiring from active duty at the end of June and his wife will become the primary worker in the family. But she isn’t taking just any job. She will become the head pharmacist on one of the Mercy Ships, currently anchored off the coast of Senegal. They are leaving for Africa in August, and for the next two years, Gwen and Brad and two of their four children will live as missionaries to the patients and communities that this medical ship serves, along with the other medical personnel on board. For them, it’s not just a change in status. They understand that this is a total change of reference and identity. Sometimes our faith journeys take us to strange new worlds, indeed.

During this season of Eastertide, we have been following the story of the early church from the book of Acts. We have seen the disciples struggle and grow as they encounter the risen Jesus. We have met Paul, converted from persecuting Christiana as he becomes a teacher and leader. We have seen the struggles to blend the Jewish and Gentile Christian communities, trying to understand how to integrate their past to their identities into one.

Today’s lesson from Acts is a powerful portrait of how Paul is compelled to spread the good news to new people in a new land. Paul’s mission makes its way northwestward, through Asia Minor and onto the continent of Europe. He had tried to go east, further into Asia, toward Ephesus in modern-day Turkey, a cultural and trade center. But several times he was stopped by unforeseen circumstances, which he interpreted as roadblocks from God to sending him to this new mission field.

Paul’s call to Macedonia comes in the form of a vision, which is Luke’s reminder of the extraordinary nature of God’s call. With this dramatic event, the mission to Europe begins. The gospel is moving out of familiar territory where the Pauline gospel is well established into uncharted waters. It is as if the events of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection were a big rock, thrown into a pond, with Jesus’ influence and love rippling out to reach all the world.

We often think of Paul as a hater of women, or at least unappreciative. People have used some of Paul’s words as a proof text that women were not equal to men in the eyes of God or the Church. But this story reminds us that the issues of faith are not always black and white. Paul didn’t speak in generalities – he spoke to specific communities with unique problems and challenges. Called to “do his own thing,” Paul’s journey from Turkey to Philippi in modern-day Greece opens the Christian community in ways no one had imagined. If nothing else, Lydia’s conversion reminds us that God will call whom God will call, and all of us, man, woman, youth, and child, are opening to the changing power of God’s grace.

Lydia was a woman of means, probably a merchant and leader in the community. She encountered Paul and his companions, not in the synagogue, but at a place of prayer by the river. The authenticity of her response is indicated by the eagerness with which she responded to Paul’s sharing of the gospel – the Evangelion, which gives us the very churchy word, “evangelism.” Not only was her life changed, but her whole household was converted. Her immediate response was to offer hospitality to Paul and his party. When they hesitated to accept, she asked them to take the offer at face value, judging her by nothing but the realness of her faith. Spoiler alert, when Paul and Silas are released from prison at the end of Chapter 16, they go back to Lydia’s house and find that faith in the Christian life has already grown in the town and that a house church has been established with Lydia as the driving force.

There are so many aspects of this passage that appeal to me. It reflects the radical nature of the gospel. The message of faith is available to all who will listen and let it change their lives. Before, Paul has been sharing the story of the Messiah within the traditional Judaic framework. Whenever he arrived in a town, he went to the synagogue, because he knew that there would be people there who shared a common foundation with him and with Christ… their belief in the God of the Jews. And he talked to the men, because they were the leaders in that society, and help him gain access to others in their community.

But when Paul got outside the region of Asia, he encountered a different way of life. Here, the place of prayer was not in a synagogue but by the river. And the people, mainly women, were probably not gathered informal worship but sat together sharing stories of life and faith. Maybe it was a shock to encounter a situation so different… maybe not. But Paul and company never debated on whether or not to share the good news. They didn't flinch or hold a conversation about how to handle the situation -- they just sat down and started talking. Lydia was not just a Gentile woman who became the first European convert to Christianity, but in our European-centric congregation, she could be considered our mother in the faith.

For many years, this passage has been lifted up to affirm the ministry and leadership of women in the church. Lydia’s ministry within the community at Philippi gained a good reputation and supported Paul in his further missionary travels. They took care of people in their community. They witnessed the love of God. They used the gifts that God gave them to do the work of Christ. And they set a pattern for leadership that can be followed even today. But Lydia isn’t just a role model for women. She understands the essence of what it means to put faith into action and she spreads that to those around her and gives Paul incentive to keep spreading the word further west and north.

Ministry opportunities come to us in all shapes and sizes. And often we do not recognize them for what they are… divine calls from God. We are so busy, so distracted, by the worries of our world that we do not see the people that God is calling us to walk beside. If we think to ask how someone is doing, we are more than likely thinking of how troubled our own lives are… seriously when you are telling me the struggles that you are going through, I am having to work so hard to not say, “Well, you think you’ve got it hard… here’s what I’m dealing with…”

Too often I am not present enough in my day to ask myself these questions:

      ·    God, how are you speaking to me through this encounter?
·    What am I meant to learn from this?
·    How do you want me to change and grow from this conversation?
·    What do you want me to take with me and what do you want me to leave behind?
·    Where will this encounter with you lead me next?

These questions matter because they make an assumption that most of us forget… that God is traveling with us along the course of our days. Too often, our own inner monologue is drowning out the voice of God asking us to think less about our own need to be center stage and more on hearing and responding to the needs and pain of others.

What will it take for us to hear God telling us to be open to a new plan and new challenges, ones that we didn’t expect or even want for ourselves? Are we willing to hear a call and just go – and are we ready to receive the gifts that come with unexpected encounters and their mysterious way of helping us take new and grace-filled paths?[i]

In our gospel lesson, Jesus gives us the promise of the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, which is an exciting part of the work that the Holy Spirit does. We are able to see the Spirit as Comforter because it’s often our first experience. But to know the Spirit as Advocate, that’s a much more unsettling, but also fulfilling, way to experience God.

The truth is that God still speaks. God calls whom God will call, and in that call, we are to use our spiritual gifts alongside our natural talents and skills. We are the ones who do God’s work in the world. We are the ones who are equipped. Our job is to listen and to respond… to hear the still, small voice of God. And to know that we not just can make a difference, but must be willing to believe that God would choose us to do something worthwhile and significant for God’s kingdom.[ii]

Imagine their surprise when two Air Force Academy cadets discovered that the janitor cleaning up after them for the last two years was actually a Medal of Honor recipient from World War 2. When they asked him if he was the soldier they read about, he replied simply, “Yep, that’s me.” “Why didn’t you tell us?” they asked. He replied after some thought, “That was one day in my life and it happened a long time ago.” At a loss for words, they sped off to class but shared the news with everyone in their flight.

After that, things were never the same. No longer was he “the janitor.” Students greeted Bill Crawford by name in the halls and regularly stopped to talk to him.  Not only did those encounters change the students, but they also made a difference to Mr. Crawford, who seemed to walk a little taller, offering encouragement throughout the year.[iii] When they found out that he had never formally had his medal presented to him because he was in a German POW camp, they lobbied hard, and at The Air Force Academy graduation in 1984, President Ronald Reagan officially presented him the Medal of Honor in front of the graduating class who befriended him. And when he died in 2000 at the age of 81, he was buried in the Academy cemetery, the only non-USAF person afforded that honor.[iv] There are many lessons of leadership to be learned from the story, but it is also a great portrait of what it means to be a person of faith. Mr. Crawford’s heroic actions saved lives in 1943, but his personal integrity continued to make a difference in the lives of Air Force Cadets over 40 years later.

Think of a still pond on a cloudy day. And gradually it begins to gently rain. See the ripples on the water? They reach out and keep spreading until they meet up with another ring, and then they head back to where they started. The history of the church is filled with the stories of people of all descriptions who have lived out their faith in the best way they could. Sometimes we feel like the only drop in the pond. Other times, the rain is coming so fast we cannot see where our rings end and where others begin. Like the Sower in Jesus’ parable, our actions today and tomorrow will be reflected in others in ways we may never know. Lydia’s faith was made strong by listening to Paul tell the story. The town of Phillipi grew strong in faith by seeing the witness of her call. Paul’s letter to the church at Philippi has been preserved as a witness and teaching tool for us, and the story has been preserved in Acts so that we can hear it and grow in our own faith and belief.

What are the ripples of faith that have reached you? Have they changed you enough to help you be a ripple maker? No matter where we are in our journeys, let us be reminded that if we are willing to see them, God’s ripples of love and grace are evidence that we are called to be witnessed and channels of the transforming power of God.

Peace, Deb

(c) Deb Luther Teagan, May 2022

Here are some pictures from Lydia's Chapel near Philippi in Greece



Paul's journey to Philippi
 
Lydia's Chapel


Outdoor Chapel by the river

Chapel interior dome

Paul and Lydia stained glass windows


Chapel Ceiling


Mosiac of Paul's Dream 





[i] “On Macedonia and Being Open to God's Vision,” Janet H. Hunt, Dancing With the Word, April 24, 2016. http://words.dancingwiththeword.com/2016/04/on-macedonia-and-being-open-to-gods.html
[ii] A Plain Account, Bruce N. G. Cromwell, April 25, 2016,   http://www.aplainaccount.org/#!Acts-16915/bhul0/571e11d70cf26b6d6841eee6   Commentary on Acts 16:9-15, Mitzi J. Smith, May 1, 2016.
[iii] “Leadership and the Janitor,” James Moschgat, USO On Patrol, Fall 2010. 
[iv] www.taraross.com/post/tdih-bill-crawford-moh

Sunday, May 15, 2022

Sermon - Let love be our guide (Easter 5C)

5th Sunday After Easter – Year C                                                  May 15, 2022

John 13:31-35 & Acts 11:1-18                                 Panzer Liturgical Chapel

When we read the story of Peter’s dream from Acts, we see another great moment of conversion, much like Paul’s experience with Jesus on the road to Damascus. This is the very moment when the Kingdom of God was officially opened to you and me – Gentiles in every sense of the word. Peter had a radical insight that day – God’s kingdom is for all. And when we think about how long it took for Peter to finally understand what Jesus was always teaching and preaching and living, it gives us hope that God will never get tired of waiting for us to get it, too.[i]

It is good news for us that this is not just a passage about the things that happened to Peter, but insight into his journey of discipleship – Peter, the Rock, was still a work in progress… and he woke up from his dream with a new vision of what it means to be a part of the family of God… all persons are sacred, and chosen… and all who love God and the things God cares about, everyone who loves and does right by others, are accepted and affirmed by God.[ii]

We don’t usually argue about food restrictions or dietary laws. We don’t talk about circumcision, which was a major point of difference among many of the first Christians. But we are inclined to argue about other differences we see in one another and whether or not they keep us from being fully included and fully welcomed into our Christian communities. Just like the first-century Christians, we use scripture as a way to fortify our own opinions and beliefs, rather than go back to Jesus’ words at his last supper.[iii]

Having been in ministry with disciples, having shared in the Lord’s Supper and washed the disciples’ feet, Jesus begins to talk to those gathered about what it would be like when he was gone. In this beginning passage from the “Farewell Discourse” in chapter 13 through chapter 17, Jesus gives his final words of love and direction, knowing they would soon be parted by the crucifixion and death.

Jesus gave them this last great lesson because he knew that they still didn’t quite understand what his ministry had been about. He knew them well enough to know that Peter would deny him. He knew that Judas would betray him. He knew that the other disciples would stay at arm’s length through the coming hours and days, even though they did not know it yet themselves. He knew these things because he had spent lots of time with these people. He had seen them react to the good and the bad. And he loved them despite what he knew.

Jesus was the glue that held them all together. He called them from different walks of life to become itinerant preachers. For years, they followed him from place to place, being who he needed them to be. Whatever you call them – disciples – students – followers – witnesses – in all of those roles they were learning more and more about who Jesus was. But it wasn’t until after this night that they began to put the pieces together. It took the shared meal, the arrest, the execution, and finally, the resurrection to help them see the whole picture.

And throughout it all, love held them together. Love gave them the courage to follow when he called. Love gave them the vision to see a new future. Love kept them together when it seemed that things could not get any worse. And love called them from their grief to begin a new life together, becoming what we know call the church. It’s this love that guides and directs us here today, calling us to be the love of Christ in the world.

Many of us think that the call to a life of faith means we have to change the way we behave. But if we want lasting change, we have to first change the way we see and think about the world. The Christian life, a life infused with God’s love, is lived out in our relationships with others. It is defined by every moment of our being, not just when we have important decisions to make. As people of faith, the love of Christ must be woven into the fabric of our being, the foundation on which all of our choices are made.

We use the word love a lot. We use it to mean physical attraction, deep affection, common courtesy, or mutual affection. But that’s not all there is to love. And when we talk about love while our actions are unloving, it gets confusing for us and for anyone who tries to see the harmony between what we say and what we do. And the biggest problems arise when we try to live our lives believing in the power of our own gifts and talents, no longer looking for the Spirit’s presence in our lives.

At this last meal, Jesus made a promise – to the disciples and us. He promised us an Advocate – a Comforter – and to be present with us even when he was gone. And the message the Spirit speaks to us is always about how we are called to love one another. The Spirit’s conversation within us and among us feeds and nurtures us and, at some point, gives us the courage to reach out so that we can be the hands of Christ to others.

Love is many things. Yes, it is romantic and parental and friendly. But love is also found in sacrifice. Love is found in holding one another accountable. Love is about putting others’ needs above our own. Love comes in giving praise and encouragement when it is needed, but also the willingness to be grabbed up by the collar and hear, “I love you… How can we pull this all back together?”

In short, if we are willing to reduce Christ’s commandment of love to merely a reciprocal mutual admiration society, we are not doing a very good job of following Christ. Love is hard work. It takes a lifetime to do it well and with the right intentions. It takes courage to love those whom we do not like. It takes humility to grow out of our comfort zones and love others in ways we never imagined we could love. Sometimes it seems that we get nothing for it… except the satisfaction of knowing that we have done what Jesus asks of us. Sometimes we are showered with love we feel we don’t deserve. And ultimately, grounded in him, the love of Christ will always keep us connected to one another and to him.

There are many amazing stories about unending, unswerving, unbelievable love that are told every day, but some days you have to look for them. Read the newspaper, watch TV, listen to the radio, and you will get a taste of some of the horror that fills the world. Nobody has to remind us of our predicaments. But if we listen well enough, we can hear stories that amaze us. These stories remind us that given the opportunity, we can indeed follow the new commandment that Jesus gave – “love one another, just as I have loved you.”

I can think of many such stories and people. But it would be too simple to lift up the life of Mother Teresa of India, Bishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador, or Desmond Tutu of South Africa. Their experiences are so different from our own that we might put them in a class by themselves. Instead, I lift to you a woman like you or me, who went with her fiancé to the Hyatt Hotel in Boston to arrange their wedding banquet. They poured over the menus, choosing foods, china, crystal, and flowers to reflect such a joyful day. The bill totaled over $13,000. Leaving a check for half, the couple went home, anxiously awaiting the happy day.

Well, as it turns out the groom was more than a little anxious. And the day the announcements were supposed to be mailed, he called the bride-to-be to call it off. In her pain and anger, she went to the hotel to cancel the reservations. The events manager could not have been more understanding, but about the refund, she said, there was bad news. “The contract is binding - you are entitled to $1,300 back. You have two options – forfeit the rest of the down payment or go ahead with a banquet that uses the money you’ve already paid.”

Now here is the part about love. It seemed crazy, but the more the jilted bride considered it, the better she liked the idea of having the party anyway. And in her disappointment, she decided to treat the people of Boston to a night they would never forget. And so, on a Saturday night in June, there was a party. The hostess changed only one thing – the main course was now boneless chicken – “in honor of the groom,” and she sent invitations to homeless shelters and rescue missions all over town. And that night people who were used to something very different dined in style. Waiters in tuxedos served senior citizens propped up on crutches and aluminum walkers. And bag ladies, vagrants, and addicts took one night away from life on the streets to sip champagne, eat wedding cake, and dance to big-band tunes late into the night.

Among Jesus’ last words was the instruction to love one another… that’s how people will know that we are his disciples. But Peter’s dream cracks that commandment wide open. Because we are not just called to love our family and friends, but to love everyone. Before, law and custom kept a tight fence around what it meant to be a member of God’s elect. But Peter heard a new message, which he shared with the other Christian leaders of his day, and which comes directly to us. And when we are deciding who and how to love, let us remember God’s message to Peter and Peter’s message to the church… Who are we to declare that others are outside of God’s love when God claims them for himself?

This is a hard lesson to learn and incorporate into our daily lives. The call to love others will often take us down roads we did not expect or even want to go. You know how it is – we map out a particular future for ourselves and are mad, sad, frustrated, afraid, angry, or infinite combinations of these distressful feelings and more when it doesn’t turn out the way we expected. But when we remember the infinite and encompassing nature of God’s love for us, and we settle ourselves into that anchor point, the new future unfolds in ways we never imagined.                   

I think we might all know the camp song “We are one in the spirit”
We are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord
And we pray that our unity may one day be restored.
And they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love
They’ll know we are Christians by our love.

But knowing the other 3 verses makes the song a roadmap for living a full, loving Christian life… walking, working, and praising God together.

We will walk with each other We will walk hand in hand (2)
And together we'll spread the news that God is in our land

We will work with each other we will work side by side (2)
And we'll guard each man's dignity and save each man's pride

All praise to the father from whom all things come
And all praise to Christ Jesus his only son
And all praise to the spirit Who makes all things one.[iv]

God’s dreams are so much bigger than ours – and if we are all brave enough, together we will change the world for everyone. Jesus said, “I give you a new commandment: love one another…and if you do this, people will know that you belong to me.” And so, we go on… wanting and needing to know and love the world as well as God knows and loves us. Walking, working, praising - knowing, living, loving, that’s what it’s all about. Amen.

Peace, Deb
(c) Deb Luther Teagan, May 2022

[i] Brian Peterson, Preach This Week, “Commentary on Acts 11:1-18, May 19, 2019, http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4061

[ii] Chuck F Queen, Pastor at Immanuel Baptist Church, posted on FB in Progressive Methodists

[iii] Reverend Sue, What God has made is clean, Companions on the Way, May 11, 2022, www.companionsontheway.com

[iv] Peter Scholtes, We Are One in the Spirit,   © 1966, F.E.L. Publications, assigned to The Lorenz Corp., 1991

Monday, May 2, 2022

Sermon - Be Brave (Easter 3C)

 3rd Sunday after Easter – Year C                                                   May 1, 2022
Acts 9:1-20, John 21:1-14                              Panzer Liturgical Service, Stuttgart
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. [i]

This is one of my favorite poems and I have often seen my faith journey reflected in its verses. It’s the epitome of the statement, “I came to a crossroad and had to make a choice…”

We do those things Robert Frost talks about. We measure the pros and cons of taking each road, whether it’s what we’re going to do on our next vacation, what we’re going to have for dinner, or where we will next be going to church. Does it have a good youth program or sing the kind of music I like? Do I like the minister, or can I at least stand to hear him or her preach every week? Sometimes our choices are not about theology or denomination. Sometimes they are just about looking down the road and thinking it might be better than where we have been.

But what if our faith journeys are not always about carefully measured choices? Paul’s conversion story gives us a different model of faith. How would we respond if we were knocked on our behinds and blinded for three days? What if that was the way we encountered the risen Lord, not necessarily for the first time, but at any point in our lives? 

Would we trust the voice who spoke to us? Would we be freaked out that He knows our worst secrets, but still calls us by name? Would we follow a complete stranger who is called to wait with us in this time of discovery? Would we abandon our old lives and identities and take on a new way of life?

Reading through the book of Acts tells a remarkable story. Until this week, we have followed the disciples of Jesus as they begin the process of birthing the Christian church. Enter Saul… defender of the Jewish faith and persecutor of Christians. Can you imagine the potential for disbelief that must have surrounded these events? This Jesus, who spoke to him in this striking moment, was the very one whom Saul sought to discredit, and his followers to destroy. And yet Saul did not turn away from the crisis that led him to Christ. He committed totally to the new life that Jesus called him to. He changed his name and turned 180 degrees in the way he was living his life and in his life’s mission. And with Paul’s leadership, the church didn’t just grow, it flourished and spread much farther than the original disciples could ever have imagined.

The way that Luke tells the story, we are reminded that God often, and maybe even mostly, chooses to work in unusual and surprising ways. Don’t just think about the courage that it took for Paul to turn his life around… think also about the bravery of Ananias, who took Paul in and helped him begin this new life to which he had been called.

Paul is called out of his determination to wipe out the Christian community into the role of its most prolific spokesperson and missionary. He is called to give this good news to everyone, kings and Gentile alike. As we continue in the story of Acts, we see Paul’s ministry take shape. Paul gives up his place of power and enters into a nomadic life, often suffering for his unwillingness to press ahead for Jesus.

Eric Berrato writes:

[In Acts,] Luke also reveals what is central to the gospel. The good news is expansive and broad. It reaches to the widest edges of the world seeking the lost, but God also turns to the powerful of the world and demands justice, grace, and peace. Yet this good news comes with a price, a price we must wonder if we are willing to embrace as Jesus’ disciples.[ii]

I think this story is important as a part of the Eastertide narrative because it reminds us that the story of salvation doesn’t end with the resurrection of Jesus, but because it is the beginning of our stories. Looking back, I can see the times when Jesus knocked me off my metaphorical horse and made unimportant to me the plans that I envisioned for myself, setting me on a new path. And let me tell you, there were a lot of tears, a lot of blindness of not knowing what was going to happen next. And I’m sure you’re all tired of me saying this – but while this was not the life I ever imagined, it was definitely the one I needed.

Today’s lessons ask us important questions:

  • ·      How does this story give us a new imagination for what it means to live out our faith?
  • ·      Do we have the zeal for the gospel of love and grace, or is our zeal for something else, like having other people mirror our own beliefs?
  • ·      Is our zeal wholly committed to serving God’s people, or is it sometimes misdirected or even destructive?

Every day I watch the news and wonder if our need to defend our faith at the expense of the experience of others is really what Jesus intends for us… and yet I don’t know how to respond, probably because to speak out might cause me to be rejected. And so I encourage you to join me in asking God, “What do you expect of me?” And if he is calling us to go to unexpected places, let us go together. And if we end up taking different paths, let us support one another in prayer and in the knowledge that God calls each of us differently to use our gifts to serve both those who are our sisters and brothers in Christ and those who do not see themselves in his story yet. 

Even the most liturgical among us know what it means when someone asks what it means to be saved. But I’d like for us to think about the faith in another dimension. We refer to this story from Acts as Paul’s conversion story. And I think it’s important that we remember that conversion is not just about believing in something new, but about having a change of heart and turning in a new direction.[iii] 

When I became a member of the church, I took this vow: To confess Jesus Christ as Savior, put my whole trust in his grace, and promise to serve him as my Lord; with prayers, presence, gifts, service, and witness. I was 12 – what did I know? I have spent the last 50 years growing into those vows. And at various times in my life, I have seen glimpses of what that kind of life – that kind of faith – really looks like. And it’s glorious… it’s hard, but it’s glorious.

The process of conversion, of dedicating our lives to God and Christ, is ongoing and will not be completed until we are reunited with him in glory. God isn’t finished with any of us yet. God will keep working, sometimes gently calling, and other times knocking us out of our comfortable routines into something new and dangerous and life-giving. To quote writer Madeline L’Engle: "We have to be braver than we think we can be, because God is constantly calling us to be more than we are."[iv]

That’s not to say that we are called to be reckless, but if the story of Paul’s conversion and indeed his whole ministry are any kind of example, they at least call us to reconsider whether God is calling us to live out faith from our comfort zones or someplace more… somewhere bigger and scarier. Who knows when God will show up on our happy little roads where we are doing what we think is exactly right and turn our lives completely around? And when it happens, how will we respond?

In today’s gospel lesson, we hear Jesus ask Peter three times if he loves him, and each time when the answer is a “yes,” even an agonizing “yes,” Jesus instructs, “Feed my sheep.” Serving God and Jesus means serving others. It’s not just about taking care of a building or making sure an institution survives. It is all about loving and caring for those who are most in need of the goodness and the grace of God. For many, the work we do and the grace we share might be the only evidence some will ever see that God exists.

One of the biggest dangers is to be mistaken that we must be gifted to do the work God calls us to. It’s natural – we want to get it right, do a good job, and maybe receive recognition for our godly work. We often turn down an opportunity to serve because we don’t think that it is our calling. Again, the words of Madeline remind us that we must make a shift in attitude.

…Not one of us is qualified, but it seems that God continually chooses the most unqualified to do his work, to bear his glory. If we are qualified, we tend to think that we have done the job ourselves. If we are forced to accept our evident lack of qualification, then there's no danger that we will confuse God's work with our own, or God's glory with our own.[v]

German pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer left a legacy of faith that amazes and frightens the most faithful Christian. After Hitler rose to power, Bonhoeffer left his post at Union Theological Seminary in New York and his new fiancĂ©e behind to return to Germany. There, he would speak out against the growing nationalism of the German church, finally leaving to form the Confessing Church, opening a seminary for the new denomination, and gathered those sermons and teachings into what have become some of today’s most popular Christian books, The Cost of Discipleship and Life Together.[vi]

When their ministry was outlawed by the Nazi government, he traveled in secret to dozens of German villages, teaching in what he called “A Seminary on the Run”. And despite being a pacifist earlier in his ministry, he eventually worked in concert with others who believed that Hitler and the menace he engendered could only be dealt with one way. Bonhoeffer spent two years in prison for his part in an assassination attempt on Hitler’s life. He was executed at FlossenbĂĽrg concentration camp on April 9, 1945, at the order of Hitler himself, just two weeks before the United States Army liberated the camp. When he died, he famously remarked to another prisoner, "This is the end — but for me, the beginning."[vii]

Bonhoeffer wrote some of the most important theological reflections of the 20th century. I leave you with this quote today. And when you are inclined to take the safe road and live life the way you expected it to be, remember these words:

I'm still discovering, right up to this moment, that it is only by living completely in this world that one learns to have faith. I mean living unreservedly in life's duties, problems, successes and failures, experiences and perplexities. In so doing, we throw ourselves completely into the arms of God.[viii]

We are called to throw ourselves completely into the arms of God, knowing that no matter which road we take, God is always with us, and that makes all the difference.

Amen.

Peace, Deb



[i] “The Road Not Taken”, Robert Frost (1874–1963).  Mountain Interval.  1920

[ii] Eric Barreto, Preach This Week, April 10, 2016, http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2835

[iv] Madeline L’Engle, Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art”, p.58, Convergent Books

[v] Ibid, pg 55.