Thursday, July 8, 2021

Sermon - We Are Not Alone (Proper 9B)

6th Sunday after Pentecost (9B)                                                                July 4, 2021

Mark 6:1-13                                                                        Panzer Liturgical Service

We Are Not in This Alone

In the last few weeks, we have seen Jesus preaching, teaching, and healing in the regions outside of Jerusalem. People are amazed at the things that Jesus can do. They follow him, far and wide. They compel him to bring peace and healing to desperate situations. Last week the reading ended with Jesus asking that the onlookers not tell anyone what they had seen… the secrecy motif is strong in Mark’s gospel. But the truth is that it’s just too amazing to keep it secret. Word spreads far and wide, sprinkled with an understanding number of questions… again and again, people ask, “Who is he?”

My family always called me “Debbie.” I didn’t think anything of it – it was my name. And that was true until it wasn’t. When I went to my first appointment as a UMC minister, the senior pastor decided that “Debbie” was too childish – he was going to call me “Deborah.” Now, I’m not a feminist rebel, but it only took about half a second for me to reply, “Yeah, I don’t think so.” Always the people-pleaser and peacemaker, I offered, “How about me just going by “Deb? It’s short, sweet, and to the point.” He agreed – thinking he had a choice. And that’s how I got my name. Funny thing though. It doesn’t matter how many times I remind the people of my youth – 30 years later I’m still “Debbie” to them. I don’t hold it against them – and for many of them, it will never change. It just doesn’t feel like my name anymore.

Jesus ran into a similar problem. When he was traveling throughout the region, he came upon his hometown. It doesn’t sound like it was the destination, just a stop along the way. And there he met his mother and at least four brothers and some unnamed sisters – was their meeting filled with the obligatory small talk of relatives who haven’t seen one another in a while? Then on the Sabbath, he went to preach in the local synagogue… Jesus standing in among the people of his youth… they were not impressed. Instead of asking, “Who is this?” as previous crowds did, they asked something totally different, “Who does he think he is?”[i]

And in the process, they aired all the dirty laundry: 1- Referring to Jesus as “Mary’s son” could be considered a slur against Jesus’ questionable birth narrative; 2 – recalling his training as a carpenter, following in Joseph’s footsteps, they show their disdain for his current calling - now he’s just one of those crazy prophet guys out on the road; 3 – He left his mother here, all alone to keep the family together – that’s not what a good son does.[ii]

Thomas Wolfe’s quote feels appropriate for these first six verses - “You can’t go home again because home has ceased to exist except in the mothballs of your memory.” Jesus’ version of that: "Prophets are honored everywhere except in their own hometowns, among their relatives, and in their own households." And because of their unbelief, Jesus was unable to perform any miracles there, except for a few who came to him specifically, and he was appalled by their unbelief. So, he left.

And in the process, he gave his followers a new, expanded understanding of what it means to be a member of the family and kingdom of God. Instead of closing ranks with his followers, he engineered an expansion of his ministry. He sent the twelve disciples out in pairs to proclaim the good news of the Kingdom of God, and to bringing healing to lives in desperate need of change.

They were called to travel light. No extras – no “just in case” items allowed. While they preached faith, they would also be called to exercise it. They would have to depend on the very people they were ministering with to provide them what they needed to survive. They were to stay with people as long as they were welcome, and if rejected, they should shake that off and keep going until they found those who could receive their ministry and offer them a place to stay.

The message they brought wasn’t just about believing – the disciples were asking people to change their hearts and their lives. This wasn’t a revival tent ministry inviting people to come forward for prayer. This was a pilgrimage, where people incorporated the message of God’s love and made that love bear fruit as they lived every day.

This isn’t the first time that Jesus is rejected – it’s actually the fourth time just in Mark’s gospel alone. But this time feels different, because Jesus is more established in his ministry, and because it’s clear that Jesus is never coming home again. Fortunately, Jesus doesn’t stop here. The sending forth of the twelve sets up a new model, one that will be implemented permanently after Jesus’ resurrection, ascension, and the day of Pentecost. After this event, Jesus begins his long journey to Jerusalem, already aware of what will come ahead.[iii] The good news is that by the time he is gone, they will already know what to do.

As we watch the disciples begin their journeys, we realize that Jesus is already setting up what he wants to church to be when he is gone. We are not just called to be believers. We are called to be proclaimers and doers of the Word. Jesus isn’t in this alone. Jesus is the ringleader, the instigator, the chief enthusiast, the head of his body, the Church. But he knows that he can’t change the world alone.

His disciples, even all of us, are called to live out faith in the world. We are called to believe that with love, we can change the world. And we do this by trusting others. We do this by offering and receiving hospitality. A growing, living church isn’t defined by the number of people sitting in the pews. We aren’t just called to get filled up every Sunday morning to talk about the lessons we learn. We are called to live out – act out – our faith in the world - in our offices and families, in the way we drive and shop and stand in line at the post office.

For the last few months, several adults in our congregation have been reading together the book, Liturgy of the Ordinary by Tish Warren. Tish is an Anglican Priest in Austin, Texas, and wrote this book to help work through the ways that our worship liturgy connects to how we live every day. It is her belief, and I enthusiastically agree, that what we do on Sunday mornings has a direct correlation to the things we do every day – things that give our lives structure and meaning. Brushing our teeth, drinking coffee or tea, sitting in traffic, making the bed… all of these activities relate in some way to our liturgical activities of singing, reading scripture, celebrating the sacraments, passing the peace.

In this week’s chapter, we discussed the idea of calling a friend, and how this relates to the parts of worship where we respond to one another. Whether it is reading the psalm responsively, participating in the Great Thanksgiving, or praying together at various times in the service, these all have more impact because we do them together. We stumble through unfamiliar words together, but even then, we find a cadence for speaking in unison, always ending with the familiar “Amen.”

Tish Warren reminds us that while we are called to individual relationships with Jesus, it is not the sum total of the Christian life. When we pray the Nicene or Apostle’s creeds together, we assert that it is not possible to have a full relationship with Christ outside of a vital relationship with Christ’s body, which we call the church. We are called to be sent to one another. And when we worship Jesus, we not only gather with those in the room with us, but also with a global and historic church, bearing witness with countless others who have for the last 2000 years uttered these words with us, “I believe…”

Opening ourselves to this reality can be hard. We love comfort and familiarity. We want to like everyone we come in contact with, especially in church. But the reality is this – people annoy us, just as we annoy them. We work beside people who are irritating and awkward, people who hold different opinions about important matters, people who seem to have nothing in common with us outside our relationship with Jesus. By sending the twelve out in the world to preach and teach and help everyone, Jesus set up a challenging model that still calls us today.[iv]  

We are drawn to people who are lovely and likable. But Jesus hung out with people who are mostly not like that. So all those people that irate and annoy me – they have as much right to be as I do. Rachel Held Evans put it this way: “This is what God's kingdom is like: a bunch of outcasts and oddballs gathered at a table, not because they are rich or worthy or good, but because they are hungry - because they said yes. And there's always room for more.”[v]

The Highwomen singing group is made up of country singers Amanda Shires, Brandi Carlile, Maren Morris and Natalie Hemby. They get it just right when they sing this:

[If we want a garden / We’re gonna have to sow the seed / Plant a little happiness / Let the roots run deep / If it’s love that we give / Then it’s love that we reap/ If we want a garden / We’re gonna have to sow the seed]

 

I want a house with a crowded table

And a place by the fire for everyone

Let us take on the world while we're young and able

And bring us back together when the day is done

Recorded and released just as the COVID-19 pandemic was shutting down the world, “Crowded Table” must have spoken to a lot of people… it not won the Grammy for Best Country Song in April 2021, but has also been arranged as an anthem with 3- and 4-part harmony for church and school choirs to add to their repertoires this fall. In the music world, that’s a special kind of success.

When we live our lives as sent disciples, we are called to love people as Jesus would love them, to serve one another, and to come to his table – his very long, crowded table. We are called to work out our faith together, despite and because of our differences. It’s messy, lackluster, boring, taxing work. Sometimes it’s painful and we think we may never recover. But Jesus’ good news for me is good news for everyone. British theologian Leslie Newbigen reminds us, “None of us can be made whole until we are whole together.”[vi]

I’ve never preached on July 4th before, and while our national Independence Day is not the focus of our lesson, I will say this. In 1776, a band of similarly minded men constructed and argued over a document that declared the 13 colonies of America independent from the King of England. They were not one in their understanding of what that would look like and painful compromises were made on all sides. Clearly, they were not proclaiming their independence from everyone or everything. We didn’t leave England behind to form 13 individual countries. Instead, they worked together to form a new government, new relationships, with new expectations.

It hasn’t always gone well. Our history is marked with times when we have lost our way, of what it means to be the United States of America. Fortunately, it is possible to be grateful for all the opportunities we have as citizens of our country, even while we grieve and ask forgiveness for the mistakes we have made and are making along the way, always looking for a way to make things better.[vii]

As Christians, it is imperative that we not replace our worship of the Triune God with the worship of country or ideology. Our closing hymn today was written between the two world wars as a celebration of peace around the world. Set to the tune Finlandia, it is a testament to the belief we can find unity and peace with others when we acknowledge that God loves us all.[viii]

This leads me to believe that our celebration of independence is not complete until we realize that our belief in our interdependence – becoming a community – is a necessary part of understanding who we are. Jesus sent out the twelve to expand their understanding of what it means to be a part of the Kingdom of God. He sends us out, too. Thanks be to God.

Peace, Deb

(c) Deb Luther Teagan July 2021

Almighty God, you have called the church into being and have gathered us into one family. By the power of your Holy Spirit help us to live in unity and peace with all of your children. May our actions this day be the fruit of our faith in your kingdom. In the name of Christ. Amen.

From A Guide to Prayer for Ministers and Other Servants, Upper Room, 190.

https://www.songfacts.com/facts/the-highwomen/crowded-table



[i] Will Willimon, Pulpit Resource, July 4, 2021, The Birth of the Church, Volume Vol 49, No 3, Year B

[ii] Robb Mccory and Erik Fistler, Pulpit Fiction Podcast Proper 9B, July 4, 2021, www.pulpitfiction.us

[iii] Ibid.

[iv] Tish Harding Warren, Liturgy of the Ordinary, “Chapter 9: Calling a Friend,” 2018.

[v] Rachel Held Evan, Searching For Sunday, Chapter 21: Open Table, 2017

[vi] Leslie Newbigin, The Household of God, pg 147.

[vii] Derek Weber, “Your Bone and Flesh,” Lectionary Planning Notes: 6th Sunday After Pentecost (B) , www.umcdiscipleship.com

[viii] Lloyd Stone ad Georgia Harkness, 1934.

Monday, June 28, 2021

Sermon - All Healing Stories are God Stories (Proper 8B)

 5th Sunday after Pentecost (8B)                                                     June 27, 2021
Mark 5:21-43                                                                Panzer Liturgical Service, Stuttgart

All Healing Stories are God Stories

Today’s gospel lesson gives us two healing stories. They come to us as Jesus continues his ministry around the sea. Last week, we saw him calm the stormy sea when the disciples work him from a sound sleep, leaving the disciples to ask, “Who is he that even the sea and skies obey him?”

Who is he? That’s the ultimate question, isn’t it?

These healing stories are just two of many times that Jesus heals people in desperate need. But they are not simply two stories held up end to end. These two stories show us contrasts – differences in the ways that people come to Jesus for help – differences in the ways that Jesus responds. But they also show us how consistent Jesus is in the way he responds to their requests. Amid two dire and extremely different circumstances, Jesus gives healing. Jesus gives hope.

If we look at the structure of the two stories, we see that these are actually nested tales. Jarius’ father meets Jesus on the shore, begging for Jesus’ help. With true faith in Jesus’ ability to turn the situation around, he tells Jesus of his daughter’s near-death illness and begins to lead him to his house.

But on the way, as the crowds are pressing in, Jesus feels a specific touch. “Who did it?” he asks. “Who touched my clothing?” The disciples must have thought him a little crazy because there were so many people surrounding him – many of them surely brushed against him as they followed him to the rich man’s house. But that wasn’t the touch that Jesus felt. He felt this touch of intentionality – a touch that believed this momentary brush against Jesus’ robe or arm or foot would be enough to heal her from a decades-long illness.

And he stopped. The journey to meet the needs of Jarius’ family was intercepted by someone else. And here we meet the woman with the 12-year hemorrhage… 12 years of poor health… 12 years of seeing doctors or healers… 12 years of ritual impurity… 12 years of separation from family and friends and all the normal things in life… 12 years of anything difficult can make a person desperate… but she was not without hope.

Think about how your children respond when you ask them something you already know the answer to… if you’re lucky, they will tell you the truth, often couched in apology, fear, and the willingness to accept the consequences for whatever they did wrong. That’s what this woman is feeling, and more. With no one to advocate for her, no power, no status, and having violated societal norms of behavior of women and men, she has every right to expect rejection and even punishment for the simple act of touching Jesus’ robe. But that’s not what she gets. Her faith, her desperate need, and her honesty give her everything she wanted and needed… wholeness and healing… and a way to reenter life again.

Only after this encounter does Jesus go on his way. The news comes from Jarius’ home that it too late – no need for the Master to come – the daughter is already dead. But Jesus presses on with these words, “Do not fear, only believe.” And when they arrive at the house, Jesus enters, proclaims the girl asleep, silencing the mocking bystanders. And with a few disciples and her parents present, he reaches out his hand bidding the girl get out of the bed, and she does. Once again, faith has made all things new.


The contrasts between these families are obvious – status, power, wealth, accessibility… one family had them, one did not. But the similarity is singular… faith. Faith in Jesus’ ability to bring newness of life made all the difference to Jarius’ family and this unnamed woman. Jairus professes his faith outwardly and the woman silently- yet both receive healing.

What does this say about God? Having these two stories so woven together reminds us that God is not interested in any of the things we are likely to worship outside of God. God doesn’t care about wealth, power, cultural taboos, or a narrowly defined social order. What these stories tell us – again and again – is that God cares about binding up the broken. Whether we are broken in body, soul, mind, or social standing, God is present with us in our pain, and transforms us in our healing, even if our healing is not what we expect.

I’ve spent a lot of time in people’s private sanctuaries – in hospitals and living rooms – listening to people ask for healing. It’s the number one thing that people pray for. In previous years, we have spoken out loud our petitions during the prayers of the people, and when I went back to look at some of those Sundays, over 75% would be for healing… cancer, strokes, accidents. Maybe that number is skewed because those feel like safe prayers to speak out loud. But even so, healing so often encompasses more than just the healing of our physical bodies. We have also prayed for the healing of relationships, for broken communities, for the brokenness left in the shadow of war, for friend and foe alike. And most days it feels like those prayers go unanswered. But are they?

I’ve always struggled with praying for healing, for myself, and others. Something about an unreasonable expectation for an outcome I couldn’t guarantee. Some people thought that meant I didn’t have faith. I know people who couch their prayers for healing with the caveat, “if it’s your will.” But I think it’s always God’s will that we are healed… but often that happens in ways we don’t recognize or understand.

My first weekend as a pastor, I got called to the hospital to pray with a family who thought they were coming in to deliver a bouncing baby girl, only to find out that the baby had died before delivery. If I had ever asked myself, “What were you thinking, this was the day. This mom and dad were waiting for me to tell them that it would be alright… that God was with them and their little daughter… that it was OK to not only grieve her death but also the of the dreams they had for her life. Sitting with families waiting for word on accident victims, or with people as they die from cancer, or visiting families devastated by a family member taking their own life… Friends, there are no simple words adequate on many of these days.

But healing happens. One of my friends went in for a colonoscopy after having distressing symptoms and they took out a couple of polyps and biopsied a section of his colon that “looked funny.” Turns out that he not only had colon cancer but also a fast-spreading form of lung cancer that had already metastasized to his colon. If not for the extra care the surgeons took in examining every millimeter of his colon in every direction, he would have been dead from lung cancer in less than a year. “Thank God for colon cancer – it saved my life.”

For the last five years, he has battled his cancers, his treatments, and the medical healthcare system in the US with everything he has. And he admits that when he first asked God for healing, he wanted the cancer to be taken away. But instead, this experience healed broken relationships in his family, strengthened his bonds with his wife and children, and taught him what faith was all about. His mantra since that first day has been, “It’s a great day to be alive.”

This friend from seminary grew up in a non-liturgical tradition and one day we were talking about testimonies. Many of us may not have a testimony, per se, but we all should think about the way we came to know Jesus, and figure out how to tell someone else the story. Anyway, she felt a lot of shame because whenever she would get brave enough to share her story in church, it felt unimportant when others were able to weave such intricate tales of doom and gloom before Jesus came into their lives. Maybe you can relate to this model or maybe not – I was a mess and then Jesus fixed me –but many, many people have a different experience of knowing Jesus, including most of the people who followed Jesus in the gospels.

Instead of seeing these stories, and healings in general, as successfully exiting Jesus’ fix-it shop, we should look at a much bigger picture. If, as Jesus’ hands and feet in the world, we are called to bring healing, that has a lot more to it than just praying when people are sick or dying. Healing takes on limitless forms. Solutions are held up only by our lack of imagination.

Emerson Powery (Working Preacher) wrote: “Jesus chooses not to leave people in the conditions in which he finds them.” How many of us can say the same? Jesus has the power to alter adverse conditions, but many times it is through us that this happens. Do we take that seriously enough, this call to bring change to other people's lives? Are we willing to stand in the breach and bring healing and model peace during s?  Are we willing to cross boundaries -- whether they are related to ethnicity, gender, race, sexual orientation, politics, or any other boundaries that divide our society -- and advocate life-giving meaning and change?[i] 

When I pray for the healing of someone who is sick, I pray for their bodies and their spirits in the fight for health, but I also pray for their families in their worry, and the medical professionals who take care, and the neighbors who bring casseroles, and the employers who are flexible with hours and vacation.

When we expand the vision of this text, we encounter real challenges which will extend our understanding of healing in ways that will challenge and strengthen our faith. Here are some questions for each of us to consider:

*Does our professed faith match our lived faith? Does what we say match what we do? And if there’s a mismatch, how do we fix it? For some, this means developing a testimony – a short statement of how you came to faith in Jesus and how you are living that out. Mine goes something like this – I was raised in a Christian household and don’t remember a time when Jesus and God weren’t a part of our family conversation. And several points in life, I have felt more faith in God and Jesus and deepened my relationship with him through study, missions, and worship. Every day is a new part of the journey. Sometimes are easier than others, but I trust Jesus to be there even when I am not sure.

*How do we respond when we are approached and touched by the “unclean”? Do we see it as an invitation into a relationship or as a theft of our personal space? We expected, as did the woman and the crowd, that Jesus would reject the woman for touching him inappropriately. But that is not what happened. This woman was commended for her faith and for her bravery in coming forth, even in secret. Welcoming people into our space is hard. We like feeling safe. We like knowing what to expect. One of our biggest challenges is to accept that Jesus calls us into the unknown… and everyone we meet is a child of God.

*How do we find the message of God’s hope in this passage when faced with the reality that people suffering from years of disease are not cured and children die and are not raised. Think about the times in your life when it felt like God did not meet your expectations or places where you had stopped looking for God. I imagine if we all look hard enough, we will see God popping up in all kinds of unexpected ways, and these blessings are often things we didn’t know we needed, but would not ever want to like without again.[ii]

Jesus had two important things to say today.
 Your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”  And “Do not fear, only believe.”   They are meant for us as well because that’s the kind of God he is. It turns out - all healing stories are also God stories.  Thanks be to God. 

[i] Emerson Powery, Two Healings, One Story, Working Preacher.org July 1, 2012, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-13-2/commentary-on-mark-521-43-3

[ii] Today’s sermon is heavily resourced from Robb McCoy and Eric Fistler, Pulpit Fiction Podcast, June 27, 2021 https://www.pulpitfiction.com/notes/proper8b/#Mark5%3A21-43=

 

Sunday, May 23, 2021

Sermon - Let's Go Be The Church! - Pentecost B

 Pentecost – Year B                                                                                                              May 23, 2021
Acts 2:1-21, Romans 8:22-27, John 15:26-27; 16:4b-15                                    Panzer Liturgical Chapel

When a military member gets promoted or reenlists, they often end the ceremony by retaking the oath of office as a way of recommitting their call to service. When we attend a baptism or confirmation, we are not just witnessing what is happening to someone else, but recommitting ourselves to the promises that brought us into the family of God. I think our celebration of Pentecost is a lot like that.

This week, we celebrate Pentecost, the coming of the Holy Spirit by fire, wind, and word. Pentecost — from the Greek pentekostos, meaning "fiftieth," was a Jewish festival celebrating the spring harvest. In the New Testament story, Luke tells, the Spirit descended on 120 believers in Jerusalem on the fiftieth day after Jesus's resurrection… 50 days since Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection… 50 days filled with doubt and wonder and the bare beginnings of our mother church. But even when Jesus was among them again, teaching and breaking bread with them, the disciples were still trying to figure it out. What would it take to hold them all together, and give them their new, true identity?

If we remember the story of the Tower of Babel in Genesis 9, we see a united people, with a common language and purpose, who through conflict are scattered, speaking many languages, confused, and no longer seeing themselves as one. Coming full circle, the church’s Pentecost story begins and ends with many languages, but in the middle, something amazing happens. Tongues of fire rested on each of the disciples, and God gave them the ability to speak and understand in languages that were not their own. Even more, the crowd of strangers gathered also understood the message of God’s love in their own languages, to the amazement of all.

At the ascension, Jesus instructed them to go and wait. I’m guessing there was a lot of speculation in those 10 days – would this fulfilled promise make everything better – or maybe easier? Turns out the answer is yes and no. The coming of the Holy Spirit, as promised by Jesus, was not just a spirit of counsel or peace. It came like fire and wind, two of the most powerful forces on earth. This was Jesus’ way of saying, “Don’t do this without me.”

As we celebrate this Pentecost Sunday, we are reminded what it means to be the church. First, we are called to be one. We are called to gather in his name, proclaiming Peter’s message that day – “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.” Peter doesn’t give us theological terms to memorize or a checklist of necessary behaviors. Simply said, we are called to live believing that everyone can be a member of the Kingdom of God.

Over the last 2000 years of Christianity, we have split apart over differences in the ways we think about and practice ministry in Jesus’ name. Any time you look at church history, you see controversies keep repeating themselves, over and over. We have forgotten that the Holy Spirit’s first gift was to make us one… through the Spirit, we are to speak and listen in a common language – the language of love.[i]

In today’s church climate, it feels like people are looking for an excuse to break apart. The Great Schism happened in 1054 and describes the split between the church in Rome and the church in Constantinople, giving us Orthodoxy and Catholicism. And ever since, more people have splintered off – often for good reasons, but it feels like our oneness is less and less evident every day.

How about this? What if we didn’t think so much about what makes us different, and instead about what makes us the same? What if we regularly crossed denominational and racial boundaries and showed the world a glimpse of that first Pentecost Sunday? Would that help our churches grow? Would that encourage people to turn toward Christ, rather than away?

Jesus rescued us from the law… being a Christian isn’t about following a prescribed set of rules, but is about living a life of love in response to what Jesus did for us. Yes, there are plenty of tried-and-true methods for doing that, but being a Christian isn’t like putting an IKEA bookshelf together – Shelf A goes in Slot B. Everybody’s journey is different. Everyone’s call is personal and individual.

But we forget that – a lot. We fall back into familiar patterns – what worked for others should also work for us. We creep back to the shelter and familiarity of old ways and rationalize our behavior. We make our understanding of the faith the standard by which everyone’s faith is judged. And we tell people if they want to join us, they have to follow our rules, our interpretations of Jesus’ teachings.[ii]

But that’s not what Jesus wanted for us.  The Spirit makes us one – but it doesn’t box us in. We get to color outside the lines. We get to experience the call of Christ for ourselves. We can do that and still be one because our oneness is grounded solely in Jesus’ love for us and our love for one another.

Second, we are called to tell the story. Sometimes, the only part of Jesus’ story others will hear is the story you live. I think a lot about whether my words about Jesus and my actions tell the same story. Yes, it’s important to know the story, how to talk about who Jesus is and why he came and who he is calling us to be. But if Jesus only occupies an hour or a day of our week, then we have missed the point of Jesus coming at all. And if the ways we talk about Jesus and the ways we live for Jesus are not rooted in love for God and one another, then we are really missing the point.

When we are confronted with stress and discord in our relationships with others, our base instinct is to flee to safety and remind ourselves why we are right and they are wrong. It’s much harder (and healthier) to stay and work through differences, sometimes coming to an agreeable compromise, but at least understand a little more about a different perspective. Nothing about that process is easy, nor is it painless. But it is the way that the early church stayed united for as long as they did. And it is how the church grew so quickly in the beginning because people saw Christians living out their faith and asking, “I want what you have. Introduce me to Jesus.”

Third, we are called to trust the Spirit. In Jesus’ last discourse, he told the disciples, from THE MESSAGE “But when the Friend comes, the Spirit of the Truth, he will take you by the hand and guide you into all the truth there is. He won't draw attention to himself, but will make sense out of what is about to happen and, indeed, out of all that I have done and said.” Eugene Peterson’s translation uses the word “Friend” while other translations use Companion or Advocate or Paraclete, but in every case, this is the one who stands beside us, no matter what. The Spirit will show the world, that Jesus has not abandoned us. This is the witness of Pentecost.[iii] 

We wish that meant that nothing bad would happen to us, or that faithful practice of prayer or tithing or acts of service would solve all of our problems. But that wasn’t what Jesus promised. Many of the first Christians suffered tremendous hardships, prison, exile, even death. And ever since, when dedicated Christians have chosen to follow Jesus, their lives have not gone according to plan. Discipleship – the process of becoming a disciple, is about listening to the Spirit call us and compel us, knowing that we are not alone. Paul wrote to a persecuted church in Rome, “… the Spirit helps us in our weakness, intercedes for us when we do not have the words to speak our truth, and that nothing would separate us from the love of God. (Romans 8:22-28).

These days – especially today, the world doesn’t make much sense. It feels like most people are much more vocal about what they are against than what they are for. Living in that kind of stress is a burden. But it’s not new. Our fears are not that much different from the fears of those first Christians. They were not considered powerful by the standards of the world – they were a rabblerousing, troublemaking sect of God-worshipers, happy to turn the world on its ear. Perhaps because of that, the influence of the church spread like wildfire through the Mediterranean world and beyond. Paul’s missionary journeys and the Christians he left behind in each place grew a Church that could not be contained by the governments of the day.

Eventually, the Church became one of the most powerful institutions in the world – which wasn’t always a good thing because when we’re playing for power, the message of unity and love gets lost. I wonder if our allegiance to our denominations or theological persuasions gets in the way of living out the gospel in the most authentic ways. Turn on the television, read the paper, look at Facebook and you will probably see more messages of shaming than messages of love, even by people of faith. Is that really what the gospel is about?

In his book, Crazy Love, Francis Chan begins with this quote from 17th-century French priest Francois Fenelon, “To just read the Bible, attend church, and avoid “big” sins – is this passionate, wholehearted love for God?”[iv]  And yet that’s the way many of us live. Maybe we have forgotten how to take Jesus and his mission seriously – at best, we have not understood what it means to be the united and universal church.

In 2010, I found a Christian blogger, Rachel Held Evans. She was in her late 20’s, a wife and young mother, who began to question her conservative evangelical upbringing, asking the questions that most of us mainliners were too afraid to ask. Eventually, she wrote some books – four of them, to be precise, each one braver than the last. I looked forward to reading her thoughts, hearing her speak, and wondered if I would ever meet her. Sadly, in 2019 she died at the age of 37 from complications related to the flu, a bladder infection, and the medications used to treat the ailments that barely slow most of us down. She left behind a husband and two small children to figure out how to move forward without presence and wisdom.

In 2015, she wrote a book, Searching For Sunday, as she and her husband Dan started the hard process of finding a new church home, having spent the better part of a year sleeping in on Sundays, watching Meet the Press, and streaming Battlestar Galactica from this new-fangled service called Netflix. What were the non-negotiables – the things that would be necessary for their new church home? In the chapter called, “Dirty Laundry,” she likened the process of church-shopping to losing a few pounds before joining the Y or cleaning the bathroom before the Merry Maids arrive – we want to look our best to the people who might judge us for who we really are. She wrote:

The truth is, we think church is for people living in the “after” picture. We think church is for taking spiritual Instagrams and putting on our best performances. We think church is for the healthy, even though Jesus told us time and again he came to minister to the sick. We think church is for good people, not resurrected people. So, we fake it. We pretend we don’t need help and we act like we aren’t afraid, even though no decent AA meeting ever began with, “Hi, my name is Rachel, and I totally have my act together.” [v]

The Spirit calls us to be the church, in our own sickness – our doubts, our fears, our indecision. We don’t have to have our acts together. We don’t have to have it all figured out. The church at Pentecost knew something important – something we need to know, too. They experienced the love of Christ, convinced that Jesus was God in the flesh. And that love could not be stopped once it gained a foothold. It melted barriers of fear, guilt, and self-centeredness, and poured through them like a raging stream. It transformed their understanding of love, leading them to be like Jesus, embracing sinners and outcasts, Samaritans and enemies. It gave, not expecting to receive, but because giving was its nature.[vi]

Through Jesus Christ, God calls us to be one. When we eat and drink at the table, when we turn to God, when we believe and seek him in prayer, in church, and in the world around us, he still comes. He awakens in us gifts for service to one another and the world. And he has begun a new work in us, and through us, so that his kingdom may be as alive in us as it is in heaven. So, let’s go be the church. The Spirit is sending us forth! Amen.

Peace, Deb
(c) Deb Luther Teagan - May 2021

[i] Taylor, Porter, C., http://www.patheos.com/blogs/theliturgicaltheologian/2015/05/18/they-were-all-in-one-place-sermon-notes-pentecost-sunday-year-b/

[ii] Ewart, David, http://www.holytextures.com/2009/04/john-15-26-27-and-16-4b-15-year-b-pentecost-sunday-sermon-background-preparation.html

[iii] Pulpit Fiction podcast, Pentecost B, Robb McCoy and Eric Fistler, May 25, 2015

[iv] Chan, Francis, Crazy Love, p 21.

[v] Evans, Rachel Held. Searching for Sunday: Loving, Leaving, and Finding the Church (pp. 87-88). Thomas Nelson

[vi] Smith, Houston, The Christian Century, (October 4, 2005, p. 10f)

Sunday, May 9, 2021

Sermon - Love for God, Love for All (Easter 6B)

 6th Sunday after Easter                                                                             May 9, 2021
Acts 10:34–48, 1 John 5:1–8, John 15:9–17                      Panzer Liturgical Chapel

We live in The Between Times – the times between Jesus' initial ministry and his coming again in glory. We use the lessons that he taught to prepare to be ready for his return. In the early Church, Christians believed that they would live to see that day, so the early New Testament writings are filled with encouragement and warnings to hold on just a little bit longer… Jesus was coming back soon! But Jesus didn’t come back soon. Almost 2000 years have passed since his death and resurrection… 2000 years of individuals and organized groups of Christians trying to figure out how to keep his teachings alive, relevant and faithfully lived.

And in those 2000 years, a lot has changed. Christian Theology – the study of God, Jesus, and the living of faith – has evolved, and in that time, we have gone from being a universal Church with a single focus of caring for one another to multiple denominations, too numerous to even count. In the military chapel community, we specialize in downplaying our denominational affiliations, if we even have them.  Especially overseas, we realize that our unity comes not in emphasizing our differences, but in celebrating our common ground.

For many, church is just a place, not a way of life. But a life of faith is more than just a Sunday’s work. A life of faith is a life of discipleship, of making the choice daily to follow Christ and to serve him and the world in all we do.

Jesus spent his ministry teaching important lessons. Following Jesus wasn’t about memorizing scripture or learning the progression of theological thought. Life with Christ was imitating the actions of Christ. It meant welcoming people that others rejected. It meant learning to see good in what the world judged as bad. It meant being willing to put the needs of others ahead of your own needs, even if it meant leaving your own life behind.

When I read the passages for today, I realized there were some things I especially wanted to make sure we remember.

*YOU ARE CHOSEN, AND SO IS EVERYONE ELSE: In school, it’s natural to pick sides. We tend to hang out with people who are like us, who share our interests, people we like spending time with. But it’s easy for those relationships to become exclusive – to cut off others to maintain the status quo. When that happens, we stop believing that Jesus chooses everyone. Today’s gospel lesson teaches us that friendship with one another is everything. God loved Jesus – Jesus loves us – therefore, we are called to live in and live out that love.

As we read through the gospel, we see Jesus chose people from all different walks of life. He didn’t expect them to biblical scholars or teachers. He invited everyone who heard him teach to do the hardest and easiest thing - follow him. He asked them to watch the way he honored God and treated others and to do the same themselves. In today’s lesson from John 15, we hear Jesus telling his disciples, just before his abandonment and death, that friendship with him is one of the most important gifts ever given. This friendship is defined by more than just feeling good about being a part of the Jesus crowd. Friendship with Jesus means acting and living in a particular, peculiar way.

‘This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”
Jesus’ commandment is a tall order because it goes against our nature to sacrifice ourselves for others. Loving some people is easy – loving everybody is very, very hard – in fact, I’d go so far as to so impossible by our power alone.  

Remember this: Jesus chose you. He chooses you today. He will choose you tomorrow. And he asks that we respond to his calling … that we say yes to living a life of faith and trading mere happiness for joy… for completeness… for being a friend to him and friends to everyone Jesus has love.

*YOU ARE CALLED TO LOVE: The writer of 1 John reminds us this whole life of faith is about love -- loving God -- loving one another. It’s about obedience in a way that is not a burden but is life-giving and life-changing. It’s easy to think about what kind of life Jesus has called us to live and think that we are giving up something in the process.  But in reality, whatever we give up makes more room for God, more room for loving him, more room for serving him.

Both last and this week, we have heard Jesus instruct us to abide in him. Now “abide” is not a word we use a lot these days, so I looked up the definition. The one I found most helpful was “to remain, continue, or stay.” It’s easy to walk away from the faith. People turn their backs on the church and on Jesus because of disappointment, anger, and sadness. We get distracted from the main thing Jesus taught. Day after day, we are pulled in many directions, but by holding fast to Christ, we can have the kind of life that we are promised.

Is this easy? No, it is not. In fact, we can’t do it by ourselves. Through the power of the promised Holy Spirit, and the relationships we build with one another, we put into practice the most important lessons that Jesus taught his disciples. In those moments, the world is transformed into the one that God created for us. It’s easy to think that this is an impossible feat, but I love being proved wrong when I hear stories of how strangers will work together for the good of others without expecting anything in return.

Maybe you hear the story about a man who shoveled the walks of his elderly neighbors. One day, he woke to 3 feet of new snow, and knew it was too much for him to do alone. So, he tweeted out a time and location where he would be on the next day and asked 10 people to help out. 120 people were waiting when he got there, so they shoveled out the whole neighborhood, and then went out to lunch. Invigorated by the experience, many of them turned up the next day to spread their snow-shoveling gift into nearby neighborhoods.[i]

Or maybe you heard this one: On a bridge in northern Detroit, a man looked down at the midnight traffic on Interstate 696 and considered the fall, twenty feet down. The police came, blocked off traffic, and negotiators started trying to talk him down. While they waited, a semi-trailer driver talked police into letting him drive past the barricade and pulled up directly beneath the man. A second rig joined, then another and another, until there were 13 trucks, covering both sides of the 10-lane highway – a safety net to break the man’s fall should he decide to jump.

It took about four hours, but eventually, the man, who thought no one cared, had people escorting him off the bridge and to a hospital. Police opened the road and the 13 rigs and their drivers went on their way.[ii] These drivers didn’t know the man. The time spent waiting likely kept them from getting to their next checkpoint or delivery on time. But there was an understanding that if they could do anything to keep this man safe, that was the most important thing. When one of the truckers was asked about why they helped, he replied that they were determined to see that the man got out of there any way but down… he was not going to die today if they could keep it from happening.

In the late 1860s, before Mother's Day was an official holiday in the U.S., Methodist woman Ann Jarvis started mothering clubs that served poor and sick mothers and their children. Later Mothers' Friendship Day was founded to build peace after the Civil War ended. It was in 1908 that the first Mother’s Day celebration was held in a West Virginia church, and only six years later that it was recognized as a national observance by President Woodrow Wilson, intended as a recognition of the work of women and mothers in the efforts of peace, eradication of child labor, and to support the work of women in the economies of the world.

Sadly, commercialization followed right away, and the founding principles of the holiday are often lost today as we get caught up in gift-giving rather than lifting the invaluable contributions of women and mothers in the world. Like many other women who have no children, I have often been told that Mother’s Day is not a holiday for me… I beg to differ.

I never had any children of my own, but I don't feel like something is missing. I was 35 when I got married, and it took another six years for us to figure out if we were ready to have kids. By then, it just didn't happen, and after a lot of prayer and conversation, we decided that being a family of two was just right for us.

I realized that even though I am not a mother, it doesn’t always feel that way. I'm an overly-involved aunt, I've served four church communities, volunteered in seven local churches and four military chapels, and been a military spouse mentor for the last 26 years. Most days, it all feels like mothering... sometimes complete with poopy diapers and quarreling children.

God has called me to mother in different ways. No, I haven't carried a baby in my body, but I have celebrated the new life that comes to many families and I have wept with those whose idea of family was not realized as they expected. And in the joy and in the sorrow, I have kept a mother's heart.

I can be joyful when a preschooler asks, "Where are your kids?" I am happy with my answer, "I don't have any kids of my own... can I borrow you if I need one?"  I can be confident in responding to those who express sadness that I never experienced motherhood with reassurance to them that God has fulfilled my need to mother in the lives of countless church, military, and ordinary friends who need someone to be present with them in their lives.

At our wedding, Shawn and I chose the hymn "Praise to the Lord, the Almighty" as our entrance hymn. My favorite verse has been changed in many other hymnals but in the United Methodist hymnal, the fourth verse is my favorite:

Praise to the Lord, who doth nourish thy life and restore thee,  fitting thee well for the tasks that are ever before thee. Then to thy need God as a mother doth speed, spreading the wings of grace o'er thee...

Although these passages don’t always fall on Mother’s Day, I think they are a great reminder to all of us about the kind of love that parenting is – it’s about the kind of love that protects others over our own needs… it’s the greatest commandment on steroids… love your neighbor more than yourself.

The love to which God calls us is a love that is seen, lived out every day in the lives of moms and dads and kids and friends who live out their faith for everyone to see.  Christian love is inclusive.  The reading from Acts makes it perfectly clear – the Holy Spirit will come to all who will receive it and we are to love one another as sisters and brothers in faith.[iii]

Jesus talks about relationships, whether we call it friendship, mentorship, or parenthood – they all require action. It’s not enough to say that we are friends with each other or with him – we have to live that friendship in the things we say and do. This is almost always hard work, and sometimes it feels messy.[iv] But we still have to try. Jesus has spoken: We are called to abide in Christ and live out his love in every way we can.

So to everyone who lives out love in the world today – Happy Mothering Day!

Amen.

Peace, Deb

(c) Deb Luther Teagan, May 2021


[i] Allison Klein, “A Chicago Man asked for 10 Volunteers,” The Washington Post, Feb 12, 2018, 

[ii] Avi Selk, “A man nearly jumped off an overpass. 13 truckers made a safety net,” The Washington Post, April 24, 2018.

[iii] Steve Scott, “A Lasting Legacy of Love,” Holy Cross Lutheran Church and School website, http://holycrosslutheran.net/sermons/a-lasting-legacy-of-love-john-15-9-17/

[iv] Melissa Bane Sevier, “Friended,” Contemplative Viewfinder, May 5, 2015, https://melissabanesevier.wordpress.com/2015/05/05/friended/

Sunday, May 2, 2021

Sermon - Everybody's welcome here (Easter 5B)

 Easter 5B                                                                                                  May 2, 2021
Acts 8:26-40, 1 John 4:7-21, John 15:1-8                           Panzer Liturgical Service

 Last week after worship, Andy Metcalf asked me why we were not reading from the Old Testament these Sundays after Easter. It’s a bit of a mystery, but it appears that when they put together the 3-year cycles of scriptures of the Revised Common Lectionary for local congregations, they felt that the best place to hear about the ministry of the post-resurrection church would be to read through the book of Acts during the seven weeks after Easter and see the ministry of Jesus spreading the good news throughout the ancient world.

This week, we meet the disciple Philip, preaching in the desert near Samaria. We don’t cover the previous chapter of Acts in this year’s lectionary readings – that is covered in Year A – but if we were to flip back to chapters 6 and 7, we would meet Stephen, who along with Philip and five other men, was called to be leaders in and servants to this new group of believers. Think of them as second-generation disciples.

It is during this time that we also meet Saul, a persecutor of the early Christian believers, and who approved of not only persecution but the killing of those who preached the resurrection and teachings of Jesus. Stephen was stoned to death for blasphemy with Saul’s approval. That’s what makes his conversion to Christianity so remarkable. We know him better as Paul, the foremost spreader of Christian teachings and defender of opening the faith to all, even Gentiles from every corner of the world.

Back to our story - in chapter 7, Stephen inflames the Jewish leaders so much that they take him out of the city and they stone him to death. The remaining Christian leaders react accordingly – they flee Jerusalem, scattering into the nearby towns and outlying communities. Philip flees to Samaria (to the land of the Samaritans), about half the distance between Jerusalem and Nazareth, Jesus’ hometown. There the crowds hear his preaching and many are converted.

But one day, the Holy Spirit compels Philip to leave the safety of the city and journey on a road south of Jerusalem, toward Gaza. There, at noon, he encounters an entourage. The man he meets comes from even further away, from Ethiopia in Africa. And he is not a refugee in the normal sense of the word. He has status. He rides in a chariot. He is educated in both Greek and Hebrew, asking questions about what he has been told about Jesus and how Jesus’ identity is related to the things he has read from the prophet Isaiah. He is humble enough to know that he needs help making sense of what he has heard and read. And he is hospitable, inviting Philip to ride with him in the heat of the day so he can learn the things he needs to know. Barbara Brown Taylor says that this is the equivalent of a foreign diplomat seeing a street preacher on the corner in Washington, DC and offering him a ride in his fancy limousine.” [i]

So here we have a rich diplomat encountering Philip and asking questions about Jesus. But that’s not the most unusual part of the story. We know at least two other facts about this man that make him stand out. First, that he is from Ethiopia. This makes him easily identifiable as different – he’s a black man among men of Middle Eastern descent. And second, he is identified as a Eunuch – a man whose sexual status makes it safe for him to work around or for women. We aren’t given any more information than that.

From this description, we assume he has two presumed strikes against him. His appearance would be easily seen by anyone passing by. But his status as a Eunuch – that would be information would not be readily available. Either way, this man would probably have been rejected by the Jewish society – accepted as an emissary of a foreign queen, perhaps, but more likely rejected as unclean by the teaching of the Jewish law.

That’s why this story is so important. We usually think of Peter and Paul as the ones who sought to welcome people outside of the Jewish fold. But in reality, many of the post-resurrection preaching encounters are with non-Jews. And at the beginning of this story, we can see that this encounter is not an accident. The Holy Spirit, through an angel, literally tells Philip to leave the familiarity of his current situation and hit the road.

It is no coincidence that Philip is exactly where he needs to be to encounter someone with questions about Jesus. And when their teaching session is complete, the Eunuch asks an important question – “Hey, here’s some water - is there anything that would prevent me from being baptized?” And obviously, the answer was “No,” because as soon as the chariot stopped, Philip and the Eunuch go into the water and Philip baptizes him, just as Jesus commanded. And then something really weird happens – the scripture says, “When they came up out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord snatched Philip away; the eunuch saw him no more and went on his way rejoicing. (Acts 8:39) – also a discussion for another day 😊.

So, what do we learn from this encounter?

1 – Baptism is one of the ways we enter the life of the church. It is true for most of us, and because we were baptized as infants, we have no memory of it ourselves. But that doesn’t make it any less important or impactful. Baptism is a right of passage – first, we were no people – then we were God’s people. This wasn’t something Philip required of him. No, the man saw water and said, “Is this something that I can have?” And even before it was the sanctioned practice of the early Christian church to baptize Gentiles, the two of them got in the water and Philip baptized him In reality, by the time Peter and Paul were able to convince the Council to go along with it, the Holy Spirit had already done the work, paved the way, and gone on to do other things.

2 – Sometimes we encounter God in community – sometimes it happens in the wilderness. But it always happens when two people are willing to share in a moment of faith with one another. This Ethiopian Eunuch has questions, and Philip appears to give him answers. And Philip doesn’t see the barriers that others might see in this man before him – he’s a different race and may be considered an outsider by other religious communities. Philip sees him for who he is – someone in need of the Good News.

The spiritual journey is multidimensional. There is the interior journey – our personal belief in Jesus and our commitment to Him as Savior and Lord. But there is also our communal belief in Jesus, as we worship, learn, and serve him together. I like reading the bible, but I love studying it with other people or preparing to preach on Sunday morning. Yes, I love teaching, but I also love being taught as I hear other people’s interpretations or experiences with the same words I have read and pondered. It’s taken me a while to get it, but I now understand that it is the merging or melding of our journeys together that makes a more representative portrait of who Jesus is, what the scripture is saying, and how God is calling us to live. More than ever, I believe our strength is in our diversity. Everyone brings something to the table if they are willing to share the love of God.

3 – The Holy Spirit works in mysterious ways. I’ve never had an implicit belief that God actually makes me do things I don’t want to do. But I do often wonder how I got to where I am. Have you had someone describe an encounter as serendipitous? Or ever heard the phrase, “being in the right place at the right time?” God may or may not actually direct our footsteps the way that the writer of Acts describes for Philip - both the going in and the coming out of his encounter on the road to Gaza - but God is certainly on whatever roads we travel. Jesus’ words to his disciples in the Last Discourse, found in the gospel of John, chapters 14-17, give instructions on how to live as disciples, even after his death. And the writer of John’s first letter hammers the message home.

In today’s gospel lesson, Jesus says that we are to love other people – all other people – to be willing to give up our lives for them, if necessary. The ministry that Philip and the other deacons and disciples were doing was dangerous. Stephen had already been killed and he was not the last one to share that fate. But they went anyway. They told people what they knew about Jesus and invited them to come on the same dangerous journey with them. And people came.

In our increasingly divided world, all three of these passages remind us that the Kingdom of God is not exclusionary – it is inclusive. We aren’t the ones who get to decide whether or not someone is the Kingdom. We are not called to be the gatekeepers. We are not called to be the rule-keepers. We are called to be members of a team, workers together for Christ.[ii]

I know it feels like a recording stuck in a never-ending loop… Love… love… love. But that’s what Jesus gave us to do. We are called to proclaim this radical love to everyone who needs it (and that is everyone), to comfort those who have been rejected, and to challenge the belief that Jesus has called us to a private club. We are called not just to be a body of believers, but to also be lovers – that is, doers of the word.

I’ll end with this observation: I love the image that Jesus gives us of being grafted into his vine. Drive through Germany or France, within a few minutes or hours from here, and you will see vines and vineyards as far as the eye can see. Already the vinedressers are going through the fields to make sure that the main vines are undamaged and sturdy after the winter weather. As the season goes on, they will trim away damaged branches or leaves to keep the vine healthy so that the whole plant can flourish and produce good fruit, giving us good wine.

Likewise, we are called to stay connected to him – Jesus calls that abiding in him… making Jesus the main thing, and not ourselves. And it’s the hardest thing we will ever have to do. But wow – the fruit that comes from that experience – Paul talks about it in Galatians 5 – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control – you can never have enough of that.

From the beginning of his ministry to the moment of his resurrection, Jesus was inviting people in – “come on in, you are welcome here.” And when Jesus commissions people like Philip, and folks like you and me, he is at it again, asking us to give his invitation voice - “come on in, you are welcome here.”[iii]

Will Willimon talks about a church evangelism project gone wrong when a couple of retired school teachers go visiting one Saturday afternoon and end up evangelizing one of the poorest neighborhoods in Greenville, SC. Take a right, the instructions said… but because they were looking at the map upside-down, they took a left. But bringing Verleen to church and bible study made a big difference in how that congregation began to understand their work in the community. Turns out a former drug addict and victim of domestic violence knew a little something about how important it is to be invited to a different kind of life.

The church doesn’t exist only for itself. It is the sign – the proof – that Jesus’ resurrection is real and ongoing, through us. We are the primary way that God’s work gets done in the world. And we stand against the spiritual and physical forces as an alternative to the way it’s always been done. We are the sign that God intends to redeem the world. We are the way that God invites everyone to be a part of God’s family.

Come on in – everyone’s welcome here!

(c) Deb Luther Teagan - May 2021


This sermon uses exegetical resources from the Pulpit Fiction Podcast, complied by Robb McCoy and Eric Fistler. All quotes are reference on their website, https://www.pulpitfiction.com/notes/easter5b/

[i] Barbara Brown Taylor, Feasting on the Word – Year B, Volume 2: Lent through Eastertide.
[ii] Will Willimon, May 2: Come On In, Pulpit Resource, Vol. 49, No. 2, Year B https://www.ministrymatters.com/all/entry/10733/may-2-2021-come-on-in
[iii] Ibid.