Thursday, March 2, 2017

Sermon - Living a Holy Lent- Ash Wednesday (Year A)

Ash Wednesday – Year C         Stuttgart Military Chapel          March 1, 2017
Joel 2:1-2, 12-17   Psalm 51:1-17   2 Corinthians 5:20b - 6:10   Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

Living a Holy Lent

The other day, someone asked when I was preaching next. When I told them about this service, she was surprised. “I thought only Catholics did Ash Wednesday.” “Well, no,” I replied. It’s the starting day of Lent. “Oh,” she said, “I thought only Catholics did that, too.”

I guess it’s a common misconception. The rise of non-liturgical Protestant Christianity places this service outside the norm of many peoples’ experience. And for several hundred years, it could be said that Roman Catholics had the corner on the Ash Wednesday market. But over the last 100 years, and especially in the last 25 years, the celebration of the Ash Wednesday rituals and the observance of a holy Lent have become especially important and meaningful to Protestant Christians from many traditions.

Whether you have been observing Lent for a long time or if this is your first Ash Wednesday service, it’s important to understand why this time has been set aside for self-reflection. For those of us who regularly observe the ebb and flow of the Christian year, we think of the seasons in the order they occur… Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, and Ordinary Time. But the year developed as the needs of the Apostolic, mostly local, church gave way to the needs of a Church that was quickly growing outside of its original borders.

In the beginning, it was enough to celebrate every Sunday like it was a “little Easter.” But as more people were introduced to Jesus’ mission and his story, one Sunday a year was set aside as a celebration of the historical celebration of the resurrection. In the beginning, the faith was introduced through personal relationships. But as the Church grew in size and in organization, large groups of people wanted to be a part of the Church’s life and ministry. And so, a time of preparation was devised.[i]

The season of Lent was most often the time when those preparing for baptism would study and prepared spiritually to commit their whole lives to Christ. The forty days of Lent echo the great journeys found in scripture… 40 years in the desert, 40 days of rain, 40 days in the wilderness, all reflect the momentous nature of the great journey of Christian faith. Baptism would take place at sunrise on Easter Sunday, and the celebration of the resurrection would be the new member’s first day of new life in Christ.

As time passed, certain penitential behaviors were encouraged – fasting from food, prayer, giving of money to the poor, reconciliation and forgiveness from broken relationships – each of these was deemed important components in observing a Holy Lent. But it’s an interesting tell that when you hear that someone is observing Lent, you might be inclined to ask, “What are you giving up for Lent?”

I wonder if this preoccupation with the requirement to give up something doesn’t keep many from participating? Many of us feel badly enough about ourselves and our choices. We wonder if we will ever get this “faith” thing right. So, what would happen if we turned our thoughts in a different direction and looked at the Lenten season in a different way?

More than anything, I see these 40 days of Lent as a time to reflect on the fragileness of human life. Our relationships with God are not always what we or God desire. Of course, it’s possible that denying ourselves from earthly pleasures will help us to focus more on God. That message is certainly reflected in the Scriptures. Distilled to its bare-bones reality, Psalm 51 helps us to say, "I am sorry for all I have done and thought and said that has not honored you.  I know it is because of your love for me that you forgive me, not because I deserve it."

Over the years, I have come to understand that it is not just our own sinfulness that we have come to confess. We also bring the sins of our own communities and societies. If we are honest with ourselves, we see the pain and despair in the world around us, and we often do little or nothing. There are lots of reasons: self-absorption with our own needs and pain… inabilities to recognize the experiences of others as valid and meaningful… paralyzing fear to step outside our own comfort zones and to enter into to another’s discomfort… and these are just a few.

In fact, services like this put into ritual form the action of confessing our personal and corporate sinfulness.  By receiving ashes on our foreheads, we say, "I know that I am a sinner, and that my life is a mere second in God's time. Thank you, God for the time I have."  By coming together, we ask, “Help us to work together to build your Kingdom, in spite of the obstacles we experience or perceive.” 

My most memorable Lenten observances come when I balance between pious reflection on the state of my soul with how I am living out my faith in the world. I think that’s what Matthew’s gospel is trying tell us. We cannot get too swayed in either direction.
Whatever disciplines we follow for Lent, we have to practice them in the right spirit.  We pray and fast and give to others in service to God, acknowledging God's love for us in light of Christ's sacrifice for us and for the whole world.

We love because God first loved us.  And while none of us is immune to the temptations that separate us from God, we must remember that God's way is our way.  And when we fall or fail, we have to pick ourselves up and be prepared for God to love and forgive us even more. We must never allow our sin to drive us to abandon the way of truth and life in Christ's name. 

Christian pastor Jeff Manion wrote, “A remarkable life is built by taking a thousand unremarkable steps."[ii] Greatness in God’s kingdom is not built by the grand gesture, but by recognizing God's constant presence in our lives, producing in us the ability to live and to love in God's name. 

That is the promise of the gospel of Jesus Christ.  It is our joy.  It is our hope. And it’s why we’re here today.

Celebrating a Holy Lent from the words of Pope Francis
* Fast from hurting words and say kind words.
* Fast from sadness and be filled with gratitude.
* Fast from anger and be filled with patience.
* Fast from pessimism and be filled with hope.
* Fast from worries and have trust in God.
* Fast from complaints and contemplate simplicity.
* Fast from pressures and be prayerful.
* Fast from bitterness and fill your hearts with joy.
* Fast from selfishness and be compassionate to others.
* Fast from grudges and be reconciled.
* Fast from words and be silent so you can listen.[iii]

Thanks be to God.

Peace, Deb




[i] The Christmas cycle of Advent – Christmas – Epiphany did not take root until several centuries into the life of the Church as a way of helping us embrace the fully-human nature of Jesus Christ – in case you wondered.
[iii] Pope Francis, Lenten Message, 2015

Sunday, January 22, 2017

Sermon - Fan or Fanatic… Follower or Disciple? (3rd Sunday after Epiphany - Year A)

Year A, Epiphany 3, January 22. 2017
Isaiah 9:1-4; 1 Corinthians 1:10-18; Psalm 27:1, 4-9; Matthew 4:12-23

Fan or Fanatic… Follower or Disciple?

When I read the gospel passage for today’s lessons, I could not help but think of the two old coots who star in the “Grumpy Old Men” movies. Here are two guys who will do anything to catch the fish of their dreams. Old ‘Catfish Hunter’ was the biggest, ugliest catfish to live in the local lake. They chop holes into the ice… they play a game of dueling boats to compete for prime fishing spots… they even go fishing in their tuxedos “for just 5 more minutes” on their way to a very important wedding. They are, in a word, fanatics, and proud of it. They are in a fishing frenzy. Fishing is not their vocation but is their avocation, the thing that gives them the most joy and identifies them to all who know and love them.

Many of us can claim to be fanatics about a lot of different things. Sometimes, our fanaticism revolves around events that include our family or friends. Other times, we enjoy them in solitude or with complete strangers. I posted something about the Clemson game on Facebook Friday and my sister, an Alabama grad, asked me how much longer I was going to bask in their glory. My response – 35 years is probably good for 35 days of posts. Her response… Oh, joy… I’m sure that all of us can think of people who will use any excuse to ski, swim, run, sew, knit, crochet, quilt, do their jobs, or even watch a favorite television program at the drop of a hat.

When I left my job as a medical technologist to go to Duke Divinity School, the Board of Ordained Ministry asked me what the hardest part of choosing to go to seminary was. Without hesitation, I replied, “giving up my Clemson season football tickets.”  They laughed, but I knew that once I gave up those 45-yard line seats, I’d never see them again. And at the time, it was the most concrete example I could think of to represent what that move and change of careers was all about.

I used to wonder what the disciples gave up to follow Jesus. Matthew doesn’t give us much to go on. The passage is clear on these two accounts; 1) that Jesus said “follow me” and 2) they did. No questions, no arguments, they got up and were gone, just like that. From this encounter, it is starting to become clear, even in the early chapters of Matthew that Jesus makes an indelible, a permanent claim on our lives, just as he did in the lives of Peter and Andrew, James and John.

They left everything to follow Jesus, who didn’t say to them, “Have I got a deal for you,” but who instead promised them a new life’s work, that of bringing people to God. And as Matthew describes the scene, in the blink of an eye, their lives are changed. Jesus called them to follow him, and their lives were never the same.

It’s been 30 years since I made that first trip to Duke, 26 years since taking my first church, 25 years since my first date with my husband, 22 years since we got married, 12 military moves, 3 more pastoral appointments… There have been so many things that I have given up in order to follow the call of Jesus. And so many more things gained. Gradually I have realized that while it’s good to honor what we have left behind, it’s what we gain that marks us for life as people dedicated to the Way, the Truth and the Life, of Jesus Christ.

Through Christ, we gain our identity, our forgiveness, our ability to even understand what our sins are and how they are hurting our relationship with him, with others, and within ourselves. Through Christ, we begin to see the possibilities for us and for our neighbors if we follow when he calls. Through Christ, our possibilities are endless, and our lives are eternally bound to him.

Put into those simple terms, it sounds almost easy. But it’s also a struggle and challenge to be called. The disciples, all of them, left particular lives for the one which Jesus offered them, with many unexpected and often precarious outcomes. Their lives were never the same after they answer the call to follow him. And ours, too, are not the same either once we have heard him call and followed him.

Each of us can probably think of a time in which we said to ourselves, “I know I ought to take this step… I want to be more committed to a life of faith… but I can’t see down that road, and I’m afraid. So, I’ll stay with the comfortable rather than risk failing or disappointing myself or others, or being thrust into the unknown.”

Isn’t that our nature as human beings, to take the sheltered way which is often easier rather than standing apart from the crowd and following Christ? I can hear us now… “Who me? I don’t have the skills Jesus needs. There’s nothing really extraordinary about me.” And that’s why this scripture is important.

Matthew’s story reminds us of at least two things. First, we have to remember that when Jesus called the disciples by the lake, he called ordinary people, people just like you and me. And in that call, came the promise to change their lives AND our lives forever.  All Peter and the others had to do was get up and follow. Jesus didn’t say, “follow me and be perfect,” or “follow me and be my puppet.”  Jesus knew what he was letting himself in for when he chose God’s children.  All he asks for is the willingness to try… and the courage to allow God to use us as mirrors of his grace and peace.

Part of being that mirror, that conduit of grace, is reflected in the way that people experience Christ through us, through both action and words. It isn’t enough to assume that people know that we are Christians just because we come from a certain town or family, or because we hold certain theological positions. Somehow, we each have to find the courage within us to share the good news by the way we live. We have to live in such a way that others would want to follow him, too.

Second, Jesus took the every day, customary skills of Peter and Andrew and gave them a new direction. Peter and Andrew didn’t stop loving fishing just because they left their father’s boats. They just replaced those fishing nets with nets of a different kind. This is the way the call of God comes; while we are doing the everyday, normal things of life.

Every once in a while, God will call someone away from the life of a store clerk or lab technician to the pulpit. But more often the call is to stay where we are, to witness to what God’s Kingdom is all about in all that we do in our everyday lives. Jesus’ call is one which tells us to keep on fishing… to keep on being ourselves, remembering that we are first and foremost called to fish for Christ. It doesn’t matter if we think we’re special or extraordinary enough to serve God - God gives us the gifts we need. All we have to do is be willing to receive them.

Wouldn’t it be unbelievably grand if we could put as much energy and intensity and love into following Christ as we do when we follow our favorite team or participate in favorite activities? That’s the hardest part about following, because we have to be careful to follow with our whole hearts, rather than pretending to follow or following without putting our whole lives into the process. It is only when we allow ourselves to be totally used by God, without being stopped by our own fears and excess baggage, that we can begin to see the possibilities that God’s love can work in our lives and other people’s lives, too.

I was a campus minister for a couple of years in North Dakota, and I had a conversation with a student once that stuck with me. He told me that he thought Christianity was boring. There were too many rules, the bible was too hard to understand, and too many of the Christians he knew were not really nice people. I thought about that for a long time, and a few weeks later, I told him that the Christ I followed isn’t boring at all… he is scary, not because he’s going to punish me if I screw up, but because he forgives me and expects me to go out there and try again.

Will Willimon once shared a story about a Duke sophomore who we’ll call Mark. He was a young man from a mainline Protestant background, who felt called to work in inner-city ministry after hearing Dr. Tony Campolo speak. Through a rigorous interview process, Mark was asked to join a summer mission team in Philadelphia and later described his first-day experience to Will.

In mid-June, Mark met with a 100 other youth in a Baptist church in Philadelphia. They sang for about an hour before their leader arrived, and when he did, the youth were all worked up and ready to go. Dr. Campolo preached to them for about an hour, and people were shouting and clapping and standing in the pews. Then Tony said, “OK gang, are you ready to go out and tell them about Jesus?”  “Yeah,” the kids replied, “let’s go.”

So, he loaded them up on buses, singing and clapping. But as they began to enter the poor neighborhoods of Philadelphia, the kids gradually stopped singing, and the bus Mark was on got very quiet. Then they pulled up to one of the worst housing projects in the country. Tony stood up, opened the door, and said, “OK gang, get out there and tell them about Jesus… I’ll pick you up at five.”

The young people made their way reluctantly off the bus. And they stood in little groups and prayed as the bus made its way into the distance. Mark walked down the sidewalk, faced a run-down tenement building, said a prayer under his breath and walked inside. There was a terrible odor. Windows were out. There were no lights in the hall. Babies were crying behind thin, scrawled walls. He walked up one flight of stairs and knocked on the first door he came to.

“Who is it?” a voice called out. The door cracked open, and he could see a woman holding a naked baby. He told her he wanted to tell her about Jesus. With that she slammed the door, cursing him all the way down the stairs and out into the street.

“What made me think I could do this,” he thought. “What kind of Christian am I?”  He sat down on the curb and cried. When he looked up, he noticed a store on the corner and remembered the naked baby in the lady’s arms. So, he went in and bought a package of diapers and a pack of cigarettes, and went back and knocked on the lady’s door again.

“Who is it?” the same voice called again. When she opened the door, Mark slid the diapers and cigarettes inside. She looked at them and invited him in. He put a diaper on the baby, his first, and smoked a cigarette, his first and last, and sat there listening to the lady and playing with the baby all afternoon. About four o’clock, the woman looked at him and said, “Let me ask you something. What’s a nice college boy like you doing in a place like this?”  So, he told her all he knew about Jesus. It took about five minutes. And she replied, “Pray for me and my baby that we can make it out of this place alive.”  And he prayed.


That evening, when they all got back on the bus, Tony asked, “Well, gang, did any of you get to tell them about Jesus?”  And Mark said, “I not only got to tell them about Jesus, I met Jesus. I went out to save somebody, and ended up getting saved myself. Today, I became a disciple.” [1]

We have been lured into the belief that being a Christian is about having the right theology, instead of understanding our call to service and love. We have been told that we need to make Jesus (and our churches) more exciting and relevant so that younger people will buy in to his message, instead of living that excitement and relevance in a way that people recognize Christ in us and in the work, we do. [2] When we help someone in need, reach out to people who are different from us, stand up for those who are bullied, when we practice humility, generosity and truthfulness, we are living out our faith. When we live, speak and act justice and peace… when we act with love and reverence and forgiveness… when we open seats at our table for anyone in need of food or fellowship, with the help of the Holy Spirit we are being the fanatic disciples that Jesus calls us to be.[3]

And Matthew said, “As Jesus walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon Peter and Andrew, going about their everyday lives, and casting a net into the sea--for they were fishermen. And he said to them, ‘Follow me, and I will make you fish for people, and change your life forever.’  Immediately they left their nets and followed him. (Matthew 4:18) [with my interpolation]

Wesley Covenant Prayer (1755)

I am no longer my own, but yours.
Put me to what you will, rank me with whom you will;
put me to doing, put me to suffering;
let me be employed by you, or laid aside for you,
exalted for you, or brought low by you;
let me be full, let me be empty,
let me have all things, let me have nothing:
I freely and fully yield all things to your pleasure and disposal.
And now, glorious and blessed God,
Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
you are mine and I am yours. So be it.
And the covenant which I have made on earth,
let it be confirmed in heaven. Amen.[4]


[1] Will Willimon, Pulpit Resource, Volume 24, No. 1, pp. 12-13.
[2] Derek Olsen, Grow Christians, “Jesus wasn’t boring–and neither is discipleship” 1/16/2017, http://www.growchristians.org
[3] Susan Leonard-Ray, 1/20/2017
[4] John Wesley, Covenant Prayer, 1755.


Sunday, January 1, 2017

Sermon - On the move, but never far away from God... (Christmas 1 Year A)

First Sunday in Christmastide (Year A)                                                         January 1, 2017
Matthew 2:13-23                                                                     Panzer Liturgical Service, Stuttgart
On the Move...

The jolly, happy, and carefree nature of Christmas celebrations are no more evident in the world than they are in many of our lives.  Christmas is a time when we try take a few days off from work, and settle back to catch up on our sleep and our shopping.  For many of us, it is a time for renewing and strengthening relationships with family and friends, and for enjoying ourselves as we close out the old year and begin a new page in our lives with a slate, clean and clear.  It is my hope that each of you has one Christmas memory from this year which gives you great joy and happiness to help keep this Christmas season special in your heart and mind. 

But today’s scripture lesson reminds us that just because we celebrate the Savior’s birth as one of the most important days in our year, bad things don’t stop happening.  People we know and love are hurting.  People die and their families grieve. Some have suffered with long-term illnesses.  Others are not recovering from colds and flu as quickly as they would like.  Still others are newly diagnosed with serious health problems which will present strong challenges to them, and perhaps even challenge their faith.

Joseph and Mary had many challenges as the parents of Jesus.  Look at what we know.  First, they were “blessed” with an unexpected bundle of joy, told to them by angel visitations.  Then they were forced by circumstance to go to a town far from their home just at the time when Mary was expected to give birth.  Shepherds and visitors from the East, both unusual guests, brought greetings and gifts of joy in honor of their very own son.  And then when it was time to go home and live a “normal” life, another angel appeared with one more life-changing message. 

“Don’t go home,” the angel said.  “Go instead to another place where you know no one, and wait for the Lord to call you home.”  And being obedient and faithful people, they did just as they were instructed.  After some time, maybe months or years, the angel appeared with the message of their homecoming, and they returned to the land of their birth, settling in the city of Nazareth, where Jesus would prepare for his ministry with God’s people.  It’s the rest of the Christmas story.

This passage of scripture is placed in the lectionary on this day for several reasons.  First, it reminds us of the historic nature of the church’s ministry.  Early in the life of the church, the holy family was honored on the Sunday after Christmas with this reading, to give us some small insight into the lives of Joseph, Mary and Jesus after the shepherds and Magi had departed.  This passage reminds us that Jesus’ birth story isn’t about a savior who dropped miraculously from the sky.  Jesus’ birth narrative, which includes the murder of innocent children in Jerusalem and the fleeing of the family to Egypt, reminds us that Jesus and his parents were just like us.  They were people whose lives were in turmoil.  They were a family trying to do the best they could to survive.  And they were looking for guidance, even through an angel mediator, who had not yet steered them wrong.

Second, the passage has at least three references to Jesus’ birth and life-fulfilling Old Testament prophecies about the coming of the Chosen One.  According to Matthew, Jesus and his family were sent to Egypt to “fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, ‘Out of Egypt I have called my son,’” words reminiscent of the prophet Hosea.  And the children’s murders, though tragic, were foretold by Jeremiah, along with the resulting grief and pain, in this way:  “A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.”  Even the place of the family’s relocation fulfilled the several prophecies of the Messiah coming from the town of Nazareth. 

These commentaries, when placed together and at the beginning of Jesus’ story, help Matthew to authenticate Jesus’ position as the One whom God had called – the One whom God had chosen to save God’s people.  Continuously in Matthew’s gospel we hear this theme:  Jesus came to save God’s people, as was foretold to the Jews.  Matthew’s point… with this kind of evidence, there can be no argument – Jesus is the One.  And because they also believed it, Mary and Joseph modeled an obedience that their son also lived out, and allowed themselves and their son to become God’s instruments of peace and salvation.

But there are many questions which this text and others in scripture make no attempt to answer.  Why would God let something so terrible happen to innocent children and families?  Could God’s plan have not be achieved without the death of more people in the name of power and prestige?  Today we ask, why do bad things happen to good people, especially at Christmas?  Why me?  Why now?  When will it all be over?

These questions have been asked for generations.  Old Testament writers often understood and explained the evil in the world as God’s punishment for those who had disobeyed God’s commands.  The stories stood as examples of what happens to those who do not obey the word of God.  But Jesus’ life and death put that whole notion into serious question, because we know that Jesus’ was obedient to God in all things, and still he was killed, and made an example of for the Jews and Gentiles who believed in his power as God’s son and Messiah by the established religious and governing authorities.

As a Christian caregiver, and as a pastor, I hear the questions that people ask, as have many of you.  Part of my call as a Christian, and part of my job as a pastor, is to try to help people hear a word of God’s grace and peace, even in the midst of turmoil and pain and the numbness that goes alone with grief.  Many times, those words are hard to say and hard to hear. 

But they are eternally true and they are these words: God does not abandon us.  Not Jesus… not the children of Bethlehem and Jerusalem or Allepo or Berlin… not any of our brave friends and family members in their battles with cancer and illness or dementia… nor has God abandoned any of us in our own periods of doubt and pain and unbelief.  God stands by us.  God sends us friends and family and even strangers to comfort us and remind us that someday we will be called home, just like Joseph and Mary and Jesus were called to a new home in Nazareth.

Often, we forget that when we were called to be Jesus’ disciples, we were called away from our fear of death and separation, but not from death and separation themselves.  We were called away from our ultimate fear of disaster and sickness because we know that in Christ, we have everlasting life.  And we were called to be beacons of hope in a dark and lonely world, givers of grace and comfort, champions of the everlasting presence of God and God’s people through thick and thin.

What a challenge to be followers of Christ!  What an unbelievable legacy we live out as we follow Jesus’ path in the world.  And we never know where we will be called to serve.  Think about all the places you have lived… all the friends you have made, the churches and communities where you have served and been served. If you are like me, there were times when you felt alone and wondered where God was – and then there were other times, when God’s presence of no question. Angel visitation or not, God finds a way to have a word of promise, of salvation proclaimed and heard. Wherever we go, God will go with us.  We are not alone.

Joseph’s journey with Mary and the baby reminds us that faith is not for the faint-hearted, but is for those who have the stamina to stand up to all that the world and circumstance throw into our paths. And when we don’t have that strength for ourselves, there will be someone, maybe the least expected person, who will be the hands and feet of Christ to us just when we need it. Being a Christian is hard work.  It means we may have to veer off the paths that we have chosen for ourselves, and with the help of our Lord, manage the ones we have strayed onto or been pushed down unexpectedly on our way. 

It is important for us to remember that our Christmas celebration cannot be complete if we forgot who Jesus is.  He is not just the baby born on a special night in Bethlehem… there were other babies born that day.  He is not just a member of a family with faithful parents who fled to Egypt… I imagine others also left in order to escape the domination of tyrannical rulers.  He is not even the only man in Judea who went around performing miracles and preaching to the people of Galilee, Nazareth and Jerusalem.  And he is certainly not the only one ever killed for speaking a word that frightened and challenged the powers that ruled the land.

But Jesus Christ is the one whom God raised from death.  It is Jesus’ resurrection that makes him different.  It is Jesus’ resurrection that makes us need to know how he was born and how he lived.  We worship Jesus, not just for how he was born and died, but because he rose from death and lives today.   And we serve him because we know that his love changes our lives, both in this world, and in the one to come.  So, as we celebrate this Christmas season, we also look forward to Easter, and to the jumble of emotions and experiences that it’s celebration adds to our lives.

May the coming year bring peace and joy to each of you, to those you love, and to all who serve the risen Savior, Jesus Christ.  And in those times of pain and doubt and question, let us remember always, as Matthew has reminded us this day:  God has not abandoned us, so let us not abandon our faith in him!  We are on the move!  Let us go in peace! 


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

Peace, Deb

Sunday, December 18, 2016

Sermon - Living "God With Us" - Advent 4A

Advent 4A – Matthew 1:18-25                                     December 18, 2016
Panzer Liturgical Service

I imagine that the number one complaint minister’s get in the weeks leading up to Christmas is that we don’t start singing Christmas carols soon enough. And it’s no wonder. Even here in Germany we started seeing the stores filled with holiday gift items and decorations in late November – Black Friday sales abound. If we live out our Christian faith with the assumption that we are a microcosm of the larger society, then it would totally make sense to start singing “Joy to the World” and “Silent Night” as early as we wanted to spread that good news.

But let’s assume for a minute that the Church’s life is not merely a small reflection of what’s going on around us, but that we hold values and customs that are in opposition to the collective values of the world. How would we then reinforce our code of conduct – our particular hearing and acting out the Christmas story? And what that mean for the place that Christmas and its celebrations have in our lives?

If you ask the average person, most would say that Christmas is the most important day in the Christian year. I would beg to differ – and liturgical history bears witness – believing that Easter is actually the most important day in the Christian calendar.

The early church began to mark the resurrection of Jesus from the very beginning. These Christians came together to worship and break bread on the first day of the week, declaring each Sunday as a little Easter. The season of Lent was born as a time of preparation for converts and rededication for those who were already members. As time went on the gospels were written to the next generation, and questions about who Jesus was and where he came from emerged. Matthew and Luke both address the question of Jesus’ birth, but from different perspectives and different sets of facts. It is only after 200AD that the Church begins to celebrate Jesus’ birth at all. Just as Easter is prefaced by Lent, Christmas has a similar time of preparation called Advent. Our four-week Advent celebration is mean to set Jesus’ birth into a particular context so that we understand where he came from and how he fits into the narrative God’s reign in the world.

Year A readings in the Revised Common Lectionary make this transition even starker. For the last three weeks, we have really heard nothing specific about Jesus’ birth. Instead, we have followed around our friend John the Baptist, weirdly dressed and proclaiming a sometimes-confusing message of once and future hope.

On this fourth Sunday of Advent, we finally encounter a principle in the Christmas story – Joseph. But Joseph doesn’t have much to say. Instead, we hear about a dream he had concerning the troubling news of his fiancé’s unexpected pregnancy. The final outcome is the story as we know it, but I’d like to look a little more closely at why this dream is so integral to how we might live out our faith in Jesus today.

First, if you go to the 17 verses that preface our encounter with Joseph, we find the genealogy of Jesus. I imagine that it’s a part of the story that we are most willing to skip over, but I think it gives us a big clue to how revolutionary Jesus’ story will become. You know, Jesus’ family line has some really questionable characters in it; including Tamar who was abused by her father-in-law, who then tried to kill her, a reference to the wife of Uriah, also known as Bathsheba, who had an adulterous relationship with David, and other members with dubious histories.

Matthew, written to share the story of Jesus with the Jewish community, would have known that this is not the pure, unblemished line the people were expecting the Messiah to come from. Even so, this is the family whom God chose to save the world and become incarnate within and implicant in the narrative is the question – “If God can save the world with this family - imagine what God can do with you?”

Second, when we pick up in verse 18, there is no real birth narrative here. Jesus is born sometime in verse 25, but we don’t know any of the details about what the scene looked like. What we eventually pick up from Matthew’s details of the birth is the visit of the Magi – and even that may not reflect what we expect.

So why is this part of the story important? Well, it gives us a peek into the mind and heart of Joseph, who we know little to nothing about, only that he is a righteous man. You see, Joseph had a choice to make. He could follow the law or he could take on the task that the angel gave him. Jewish marriage customs dictated that an engagement proceeds the actual wedding ceremony. At that time, a dowry was paid by the bride’s family to the groom and a contract drawn up. During the time of the engagement, the groom made preparations for married life and the couple got to know each other before living together. The concept of falling in love would have been as foreign as the idea of space travel during that time.

For Mary to become pregnant during her engagement to Joseph would have been the most serious violation of the contract between them and special rules within the Torah existed to spare Joseph the burden of honoring the broken promise. As a kind man, he wished only to send her away, but before he could finalize that decision, this dream sets him on a very different path. Joseph throws off the shackles of doing what it legal for the burden of doing what was right, kind and good. Righteousness is no longer bound by the law, but also by the heart.

Ultimately, the story of Jesus is about seeing how God acts in the lives of those whom he calls. Joseph was completely within his rights to send Mary away with nothing. But instead, he names Jesus as the angel instructs, claiming him as his own son and cementing Jesus’ place in the line of David, fulfilling the prophecy in a way that was totally unexpected.

During Christmas, we often focus on Mary and what it was like to be a teenage mother in a Middle Eastern society. We think about her bravery in accepting the task given to her and we hold her up as an example to all people in being a brave follower of God’s call. This Sunday we are also given the opportunity to think about Joseph… about how he trusts the call that Mary has answered and how he is willing to claim a child that isn’t his, becoming an integral part of the Christmas and Christian story. This week, I hope you’ll reflect on the ways that God is calling you to be like Joseph.

If nothing else, this passage reminds us that God works through real people with the real challenges going on in their lives. Jesus didn’t come in a fairytale setting but was born to a young peasant girl in a desperate situation. He didn’t choose political or business success stories to be the bearers of the Christmas message, but a single man with conflicted doubts of how he should deal with a sticky situation, who wanted to do the right thing but needed a little angelic guidance to finally figure out which path to take.

What does it mean to not just believe the story of God’s coming in the world, but to enter into the story and live it? The reality of the Christmas story only comes alive to us once we enter it ourselves, and live in the midst of its glory and uncertainty. This story asks us how much we trust that God will fulfill the promises made to us. It asks us to expand our understanding of “God with us” really means. And if we reflect on it long enough, we realize that we bear much more responsibility for being God’s presence than we have often been willing to take on ourselves.

Let’s face it – we’re pretty good at following through on the stuff we start ourselves, but often fall down on the job when we have to support the ideas and projects dreamed up by others. But that’s what the job of being a Christian is all about… But to be a Christian and a Christ-bearer in the world today, that is precisely what we are called to do…  to take responsibility for the work of the Spirit. If we are not being the hands and feet and voice of Christ in the world around us, then we are not living up to the promises we made at our baptisms and reaffirmed at our confirmations… we need to do better.

If there is anything we can take with us today, it is the belief in Emmanuel – “God with us.” Jesus – “God saves.” These are the reassurances that God gives to us to know that while there is a lot of work to be done, we are never alone.

Peace, Deb

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Sunday, November 6, 2016

Sermon - What it really means to be blessed: All Saint's Celebration (Year C)

All Saint's Day - Year C                                         November 6, 2016
Luke 6:20-36                                                 Panzer Liturgical Service

Blessedness

Today is a day for remembering...
a day for giving thanks...
a day for celebrating.

It’s one thing to think of All Saints Day in the abstract. In our Apostle’s Creed, we say that we believe in the Holy Spirit and how that same Spirit gathers all believers together, across the boundaries of time – this we call the Communion of Saints. I love thinking of that community gathered with us as we stand around the table. At each Eucharist, we commune not only with each other but also with all who have ever gathered to break the bread and share the cup.

I love thinking about the saints of my life, not just the apostles and church fathers and mothers, but also writers and pastors like Barbara Brown Taylor and Will Willimon, who continue to live out authentic, loving faith in their personal lives and have left a written documentation of their journeys, which help me to address the challenges of my own life.

Modern day saints are not perfect but stand out in their confident belief that their work is God’s work. They understand that the blessings that Jesus proclaims in Luke are their blessings, too. And if we extrapolate that to our lives, we learn that All Saints Day is not just about remembering those faithful Christians who have come before us, also we can remember who we are, who God has called us to be.

Jesus’ Beatitudes in Luke help us to think about the “how-to” of sainthood. The Old Testament record implies that blessings are the sign of God’s favor and woes (or problems) are a sign of God’s disapproval or judgment. This concept is still prevalent in Christian denominations today, but the more I study the teachings of Jesus, the less I see this as the kind of life that Jesus calls us to live.

Here in Luke, Jesus promises that the blessings of the world don’t represent the actual blessings of God. God continues to act in surprising ways. Rather than depending on the approval of the world, Jesus tells us that our struggles may, in fact, be evidence of God’s presence with us. Jesus’ words ask us to look to the future. God’s promises are not only fulfilled in order to bring us contentment in the midst of trouble, but also for the fulfillment of all creation.

What are those promises? Those who weep now will laugh. Those who are hungry now for food and for justice will be filled. Those who are poor will receive the riches of God’s inheritance, which includes the promise to be with us always.

Jesus is calling us to look to the future, not to be overcome with our immediate needs. Jesus proclaims God’s promise to be with us in our current struggles, allowing us to focus on God’s grace in every part of our lives. And this is not work we do alone.

The Holy Spirit binds us together as the Church. The great wind which hovered over the world bringing life in the events of creation also brought new life to the people whom God called on the day of Pentecost. The followers of Jesus gathered in Jerusalem after his death and resurrection and waited... they didn't really know what for... but they waited. And on that day, they were all bound together for a lifetime... with God and with us.

You see, all those things go together. Without the witness of Jesus' resurrection, we would not know the joy which we know today, that Jesus Christ, indeed was raised from the dead, and lives eternally with the Father. Saying that we believe in the holy catholic or universal church means that we believe that the Holy Spirit came to tear down the walls which separate us, not build new or higher ones. This allows us to work together, without focusing on our differences.

By putting all of these pieces together, we are able to expand our understanding of the saints we celebrate today. The saints are all those whom we name today, people we have loved who joined the Church Triumphant. And they are those we did not know, but who lived and died faithfully, giving witness along the way. But the saints are also you and me, and as we continue on our own faith journeys, we are called to witness to the love of Jesus Christ through the example of our own lives.

One of my favorite All Saint’s hymns was written by a young British mother in the 1920’s to teach her children about the faith. It goes like this:
I sing a song of the saints of God, patient and brave and true,
who toiled and fought and lived and died for the Lord they loved and knew.
And one was a doctor, and one was a queen,
and one was a shepherdess on the green;
they were all of them saints of God, and I mean, God helping, to be one too. 
They lived not only in ages past; there are hundreds of thousands still.
The world is bright with the joyous saints who love to do Jesus' will.
You can meet them in school, on the street, in the store,
in church, by the sea, in the house next door;
they are saints of God, whether rich or poor, and I mean to be one too. (Lesbia Scott (1898–1986) 
So, maybe the next question is, “How do we do that?” – how do we go about living a life worthy to be called "a saint"? In Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain, he describes a particular kind of life one is to live to be in God's favor. As we listen to what is expected of us and compare it to the kind of life that the world tells us to live, Jesus directs us to lead a strange and uncomfortable kind of life.

Oh, don't get me wrong. On a good day, I can be as generous as the next person. I could probably give anything I own away and not really miss it or expect to get it back. I try to treat people as I want to be treated, and not give back the ugliness and unhappiness that sometimes meets me. I even try very hard to love the people who I know don't love me, although I am sure that I have not even begun to explore the possibilities for what that might mean for how I live my life. But in reality, I have not even begun to scratch the surface of what I could do, and these verses are a reality check I don’t always want.

True sainthood comes from someplace deep within us, in that place in our hearts and souls where the Holy Spirit presides. There, we cease to see our hardships as suffering. Sainthood doesn't come from looking at how hungry or poor or sad we are, just so that we can be in God's favor. Sainthood doesn't come from seeking out the hardships of life, but comes through living full, joyous lives in spite of our problems, or maybe even because of them. Sainthood doesn't come from wasting the gifts which have been given to us, or by seeking to live lives which are notable, but is achieved when we work daily at living in faith with the gospel message, sometimes, in fact, many times, in total anonymity or obscurity.

And once we’ve accepted the challenge and responsibility of sainthood, are we willing to ask the hard questions? What will it take to make us more willing to reach out to the people who are least like us? Can we find common ground with those who do not share our theological, personal and political persuasions? Our witness as Christians is supposed to tear down the walls which separate us, not build them bigger or higher or thicker. Our love as a people of God is about bridge-building so that together we can experience God's peace and love.

If we want to know how to make that happen, then we only need to look to the lives of those who came before us. It is that witness, in the lives of the saints of God, living and dead, which makes it possible for the church to continue to act out God's love, to seek God's direction, and to live out God's will in this world. It is that witness which gives meaning to our lives and to our deaths.

The people who are my special saints didn't seek or achieve fame, but just lived their lives, and professed a strong and unending faith in the One who gave life to us all. They kept on their journeys, in spite of disappointments, and rejoiced in the joy that came their way. Some of them I knew personally. Some I did not. Some are alive now. Some have gone on to the next chapter of life, living eternally with God. But because they lived and because others have been inspired by their stories to live more faithfully, we can know that living this life will have rewards and blessings that we could never have imagined.

Today is a day for remembering...
a day for giving thanks...
a day for celebrating.

And it is a day for rededicating our lives to Jesus Christ, a time to renew our citizenship in the communion of saints, seeking God's will and direction for our lives.

Let us pray:
O God, who gave us birth,
you are ever more ready to hear than we are to pray.
You know our needs before we ask, and our ignorance in asking.
Give to us now your grace, that as we shrink from the mystery of death, we may see the light of eternity.
Speak to us once more your solemn message of life and of death.
Help us live as those who are prepared to die.
And when our days here are accomplished, 
enable us to die as those who go forth to live, 
so that living or dying, our life may be in you, 
and that nothing in life or in death will be able to separate us from your great love in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen. (UMH 1989)

Resources:
Closing Prayer from Service of Death and Resurrection, United Methodist Hymnal, 1989

Sunday, October 30, 2016

Sermon - Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? (24th Sunday after Pentecost - Year C)

24th Sunday after Pentecost – Year C                                               October 30. 2016
Luke 19:1-10                                                              St. Paul UMC, Spartanburg, SC

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?

So be honest… how many of you are humming the Zacchaeus song in your heads right now? I admit it took a while for me to get it out of my head when I was preparing for the sermon today. Zacchaeus is one our favorite characters from the New Testament because it feels like a story of the little guy getting a big win…  most often we have heard sermons that go something like this: Zacchaeus, a notorious sinner has turned his life around, made amends with those he has wronged, and is getting right with God so he can be a part of Jesus’s crowd. So if we turn our lives around and do the same, we can get right with God, too.

But is that what the story is all about?

The main problem with that interpretation is that Jesus and Zacchaeus never talk about repentance… Zacchaeus’ willingness to turn his life around is not a prerequisite for spending time with Jesus – who never got an invitation but came just the same. In fact, it seems that the bible translators may have contributed to our confusion. In the Common English Bible translation, it reads like this:
Everyone who saw this grumbled, saying, “He has gone to be the guest of a sinner.”  Zacchaeus stopped and said to the Lord, “Look, Lord, I give half of my possessions to the poor. And if I have cheated anyone, I repay them four times as much.” (CEB)

So with this new insight, we have to believe that Zacchaeus is already living the kind of life that Jesus has been teaching about, despite the crowd’s willingness to believe the worst about him because of his profession. And it doesn’t help them respect Jesus either, because the Scribes and Pharisees are complaining again about the fact that Jesus doesn’t hang out with the right kind of people.

So if this isn’t a story about forgiveness and repentance, what is it about? If we have to adjust to this new interpretation, what is it that we are supposed to learn? 

I think the key is all in the tree… the one that Zacchaeus climbs in order to see Jesus better. I think this is a story about sight – about someone who believes that just being able to see Jesus better will change his life. And in the process, Jesus sees him – I mean, he really sees him, past the assumptions that people make about Zacchaeus and into his heart. Salvation has come, in spite of whether or not those around him approve.

Our gospel writer, Luke, has a history of being sensitive to issues of money. Previously, he has told Jesus’ story in such a way to bring what we think we know about wealth into question. In the biblical era, it was common to think that money and power were signs of God’s blessing. But Jesus turns that idea on its head, in fact saying that it is very difficult for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God (Luke 18:25).

In this story, Jesus seems to contradict himself, declaring that Zacchaeus, a wealthy chief tax collector already despised by his neighbors, is also a child of God and recipient of God’s salvation. So when we read the stories about how Jesus talks about wealth, we have to make sure that we understand that wealth in and of itself has neutral value. It’s what we do with our wealth that Jesus cares about, and Zacchaeus does good things, paying back in excess those from whom he has taken more than he should have.

In addition, Jesus cares about those who live on the fringes. He encounters those who society has declared unfit and ignored and he sees them, recognizes them, seeks them out, spends time with them, and in all these ways honors and blesses them.” All of this drives the Jewish religious community crazy. The Pharisees and their followers continually throw the rules in Jesus’ face… often saying to him, “You can’t do that – it’s not fair!”

We all have our ideas about what a messiah – a savior - should do. We read the Old Testament and we remember the standards that were set forward for the Israelites – who incidentally were terribly stubborn and had really short attention spans.

When Jesus contradicts our expectations, we want to ask him, “Hey, God, if you’re not going to stick to the rules, punishing sinners and reward the righteous, then what can we count on?”  We get stuck in our Old Testament narrative, forgetting that Jesus came to fulfill the law, not to enforce it. The God we encounter in Jesus doesn’t care about fulfilling our sense of justice or fairness, or in any of the other ways that we choose to make order in our world. All God cares about it seeing and seeking out the lost and bringing them home again. God’s love trumps our understanding of justice and God’s compassion overrides all of our beliefs about fairness. In God’s world, all are welcome just because of who they are.

And more often than not, this is upsetting to us, because we have been trying to play by the rules and want to make sure that our efforts are rewarded… until we are the ones that are down and out. Then we are happy the Jesus welcomes us just the way we are, and invites us to come and join the party.

In Germany, the congregation where I worship celebrated Reformation Sunday. The year 2016 marks the 499th anniversary of Martin Luther’s act of rebellion against a Roman Catholic Church that has exploited their authority to become more powerful and richer than most of the countries in the realm. Luther never intended to start a new religious tradition. He just wanted the one he was part of to live according to the gospel principles we had experienced today.  In his study and translation of scripture, Luther realized that righteousness isn’t the standard God sets for us, but is instead the gift that God gives us, because we just aren’t able to be righteous all on our own. [Lose]

Maybe the question we have to ask is this: Have we been worshiping the wrong God? Is our faith based in fear of God and what might happen to us if we don’t measure up, or is it based in receiving the love that God has for us, and in turn, extending that to all those around us so in need of that grace?

Many of you know that I came back to the US to help my mom move into her new apartment. It was always the plan to downsize, and she is settling in very well. But I must admit that I was not excited to come back in the 3 ½ weeks before the US election. At least in Germany, I can only understand about 50% of what the German TV and radio report about our election process. And our German friends wonder about how we can endure a season that goes on for so long without there being damage done to the society... and I don't know what to tell them.

I am saddened by the level of dis-grace I hear surrounding the elections, on every level. I think this passage has reminded me that no matter what differences I might have with those who have different opinions than mine, all of us are children of a loving God. We are all Zacchaeus. We are all sinners, some taller, some shorter, some richer, some poorer, inhabiting all regions on the political spectrum. We might feel better about ourselves by believing differently, but this scripture reminds us that we don’t make the rules.

When we host a dinner, we expect to have total control over the way that the evening progresses. We choose the food and the guests, the theme and the decorations. We start the evening with the illusion that its success or failure is a reflection of something inside of us, but often focused on the most unimportant things. This summer my husband turned 50, and in great Rundgebertstag German tradition we invited both local and American friends to celebrate the day. The planning was meticulous… would we have enough to eat and drink? What would we do if it rained?  Would the evening meet our expectations and those of our guests?

Here’s what we learned: 14 pound of baby back ribs and 10 pounds of wings was not enough…. Germans friends are prepared for every possible need, including a tent that will seat 40 guests in the rain…. And we had the wrong expectations if we thought that any of those things would matter to our friends. It was such an amazing night, mainly because all of these people came together to celebrate a person they love and admire, and in turn, assumed the best about one another. New friendships were born that night, and old friendships renewed. And what is better than friends who stay well past midnight to help clean everything up because they know that you have to get up and preach early the next morning?

Jesus doesn’t come as a tourist to check out the fall leaves or see the sights along his way. He doesn’t come as a spectator to the human condition – he comes as the one who saves us from our sinful conditions and from ourselves. He knows us by name and loved us forever. And he looks past all of our faults and what we and everyone else thinks about us to invite himself into our hearts. [Sellery]

The next few weeks may be stressful for us, but if we remember to see others as fellow sojourners, to look for the best in them, even if they think or worship or speak differently than we do, we will be that much better… We will be living in the way that Christ has called us to live and love.

I’m going to end today by quoting one of the most leveled headed theologians of our day, even though we usually think of him that way. From Dan Rather:
Please do not forget to breathe. 
I understand that these final days of this unprecedented election season are sending many of us into a frenzy…The stakes are so high - the uncertainty so untenable. We wonder and we worry. We refresh our social media feeds and favorite news sources by the minute looking for affirmation of our hopes or amplification of our fears. There is always more information - always more spin. And the latest news cycle and ricocheting polls only exacerbate the anxiety… 
I have a deep belief that most of my fellow countrymen and women are good, decent, hardworking people - that they go to bed each night with similar prayers for their family, even if they pray in different faiths (or no faith), even if their words are in English or one of the countless languages spoken in American homes. I believe that we as a nation will make the right decisions in our long and imperfect march towards justice. But I believe it is a journey that requires work and sacrifice, from all of us. (Dan Rather on Facebook)
I chose our closing hymn because for me it summarizes completely the Church and world in which we are called to live. Believe the good news! Come with Joy!

I come with joy, a child of God, forgiven, loved, and free,
the life of Jesus to recall, in love laid down for me.

I come with Christians far and near to find, as all are fed,
the new community of love in Christ's communion bread.

As Christ breaks bread and bids us share, each proud division ends.
The love that made us makes us one, and strangers now are friends.

The spirit of the risen Christ, unseen, but ever near,
is in such friendship better known: alive and among us here.

Together met, together bound, by all that God has done,
we'll go with joy, to give the world, the love that makes us one. (Brian Wren, 1971)

Peace, Deb
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This sermon was heavily influenced by this blog post by David Lose – In the Meantime http://www.davidlose.net/2016/10/pen-24-c-reformation-the-unexpected-god/
And the work of David Sellery - This Week's Focus - "The Most Gracious Guest"   http://us6.campaign-archive2.com/?u=dbffd2070718c7bb6a1b9b7e0&id=0a005cf45d
Brian Wren – “I Come With Joy” Hope Publishing Co., 1971


Sunday, October 9, 2016

Sermon - Use It or Lose it (18th Sunday after Pentecost - Year C)

October 2, 2016
Luke 17:5-10                                                                 Panzer Liturgical Service

You get to a point in the lectionary season when it feels like you’re preaching or listening to the same sermon over and over. The closer we get to the crucifixion, the more Jesus seems pretty single-minded in his focus. Faith is not about living within a strict set of rules and regulations. Last week we talked about how getting to heaven is not the goal of faithful living. It’s about serving God by serving others.

This week, we see the apostles responding to Jesus’ teaching having realized that perhaps their faith is not up to the task at hand. So they ask him to increase their faith. Now I don’t think that they want him to do it magically. But I do think that they are at a loss for how to go about the business at hand. The rules and checkboxes are all they know. Their plea to Jesus is something like this: If you want us to live differently, then tell us how to do it.

Let’s look at the four verses that preface today’s lesson – four verses that stand between last week’s gospel reading and today’s…

Jesus said to his disciples, “Occasions for stumbling are bound to come, but woe to anyone by whom they come! 2It would be better for you if a millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea than for you to cause one of these little ones to stumble. 3Be on your guard! If another disciple sins, you must rebuke the offender, and if there is repentance, you must forgive. 4And if the same person sins against you seven times a day, and turns back to you seven times and says, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive.” (Luke 17:1-4)

In these four verses, Jesus is teaching the disciples about accountability.  Basically, he teaches that it is important that we continue to be involved in one another’s lives.  If someone sins, then we are to call them to responsibility for their actions (something we’re happy today with abandon - if you ever look at comments on internet posts, you know what I’m talking about…).  But at the same time, if they repent of their sin, we are to forgive them, over and over again, for, in the process of repentance and forgiveness, God is working miracles in our lives… this we’re not so good at doing.

Now the disciples surely knew how hard this would be.  So they asked the Lord, “Make our faith greater [for we know that we cannot do this on our own.]  And Jesus’ reply was something unexpected.  He answered with a parable which asked the following question.  “Does a servant expect the master to serve him at the end of a long day?”  No, the servant expects that the master will still be served, and the servant will always be in service.

In other words: Do your duty.  Use the faith you have.  You don’t necessarily need more faith, but you do need to exercise what you have.

I know you know this, but here is a reminder: God loved us before we ever even knew who God is – we call that prevenient grace.  Salvation and faith are gifts that flow from this love. Many people believe that they must be good or do good in order to be saved.  Or they believe that their current or prior behaviors make it impossible for them to be saved.  Yet there is nothing you can do to earn salvation.  And nothing you ever did will keep salvation from coming. Christ's life, death, and resurrection have already saved us.  Nothing we can do, no amount of faith we can generate, makes God love us more or makes us more saved.  Being saved is already a done deal, an accomplished fact, a free gift, no strings attached. All we have to do is accept it.

Our responsibility is to respond to God's action in and through Jesus Christ.  We are called to a life of faith, in response to God's loving action toward us.  We are called to have faith, not to get God to love us or heal us or to get Christ to save us.  But we are called to have faith because God loves and heals us.  We are called to have faith because Jesus Christ has already saved us.

One of the ways that we acknowledge this grace is through the sacrament of baptism. Now it’s important to remember that sacraments are like signposts that point to God’s character and action. They are rituals that we use to act out what we believe about who God is – not just to us – but in the grand scheme of life. Most of us come from traditions that baptize infants. We do this entirely because we believe that our ability to understand the gift of salvation is not a pre-requirement of being a part of the Kingdom or family of God. And while Charlie and Madeleine are not able to take vows for themselves, their parents and family come to make promises about how they will help these children grow in their faith, preparing them to make promises for themselves at the time of their confirmation or baptismal reaffirmation.

I hope that you will pay close attention to the promises that Chris and Abigail are making today, and to your responses throughout the baptismal liturgy. As in the communion liturgy, we are asked to recommit our lives to Christ and the life he calls us to live.

Our faith does not need to impress God or anyone else.  Our faith simply needs to respond to what God has given us.  So the next time you are concerned about whether you have enough faith, stop and get in touch with God's love for you. Remember that Christ's life, death, and resurrection already has made eternal life available to you.  Become aware of all the gifts God has given you.  And know that you are infinitely loved.  Respond to God's love with thankfulness and love in return.  That is your faith.  And that faith, even if it were as small as the tiniest mustard seed, is faith that can transform you and me and the whole world.

I remember when this terrible thing happened 10 years ago - An Amish schoolhouse in Nickel Mine, Pennsylvania was the site of a gruesome school shooting, resulting in the deaths of five girls and the injury of five more. Before community members and police could get into the building, the gunman killed himself, leaving so many questions unanswered. The gunman's parents immediately started thinking they would be unable to stay in the community - no one wants a mass murderer's family living next door. But Terri Robert's fears were unfounded; in fact, her Amish neighbors exhibited a trait she never expected - forgiveness.

Within hours, a member of the Amish community came to their door with the following message: The families did not see the couple as an enemy. Rather, they saw them as parents who were grieving the loss of their child, too. He put his hand on the shoulder of Terri Roberts’s husband and called him a friend. A few days later, 30 Amish neighbors came to act as human shields between the Roberts family and press at their son's funeral, afterward offering prayers and messages of condolences.

These Amish Christians continued to invite the Roberts family to community events, and the Roberts family reciprocated, inviting the mothers to her house for tea. They helped to care for Terri Roberts when she came home from the hospital after cancer treatment. They arrived at her house to sing Christmas carols "There is forgiveness," she said, "Of that I have no doubt."

For most of us, the path to forgiveness comes at the end of a long emotional process. But the Amish forgive first and then work through the emotional aftermath. This "decisional forgiveness" is a different kind of witness and is exactly what Jesus is talking about.

Most of us cannot imagine being on either side of this amazing relationship. But maybe it's because we have been thinking about living out our faith in the wrong order.

And the disciples asked Jesus, “Make our faith greater.” And Jesus replied, “You don’t need more faith… you need to use what you’ve got.  Even a small amount of faith can move heaven and earth, but faith that is not used will die."

Or in other words, You need to use it or you’ll lose it.

Amen and amen.