Sermon - Standing on Hope (Proper 10B)

7th Sunday after Pentecost (10B)                                                  July 11, 2021

Ephesians 1:3-14                                                                 Panzer Liturgical Chapel

Starting this Sunday, we’re going to do a new thing. It feels a little risky to me, but I’m going to give it a shot. For the next seven weeks, I’m going to preach from the appointed texts from the letter to the Ephesians. This letter is sometimes called the “Queen of the Epistles” because it gives a concise explanation for the gospel message in one brief package. Maybe it feels funny to have a sermon series in the middle of the summer, given that we are coming and going as travel opens back up. The good news is that these sermons will be connected, but not serial… if you miss a week, it’s OK. Each one will have its own singular theme. And they will be posted on our Facebook page, so you can always catch up there if you miss out on Sunday morning.

So. Ephesians: The book of Ephesians is attributed to Paul. Scholars are divided on the question of his authorship. It is possible that he did write these thoughts to the church in Ephesus while he was imprisoned in Rome in 60-62AD. It’s also possible that his own disciples compiled his teachings into a concise document after his death. Whichever is the case, the writings certainly fit the style and theological teachings of Paul in his other pastoral letters and early church leaders would not have been concerned so much that Paul actually wrote down the words himself.

Early church councils felt strongly that Paul had enough of a hand in its development that they were comfortable assigning authorship to him. For our purposes in these next weeks, I will refer to this as Paul’s letter because it though it lacks the personal touches that early Pauline letters contain, like addressing or thanking specific leaders in the church, and uses language and terms that Paul does not use in any other letters, it certainly fits into the standard of other letters written by him.

If we look closely at its contents, we see two connected messages. Chapters 1-3 provide a theological underpinning for faith in Jesus Christ. Many of our most basic understandings come from Paul’s explanations here – here we define belief. They contain some of Paul’s most beautiful and poetic language. Chapters 4-6 go on to explain the ethical dimensions of the faith journey. In these verses, Paul shows us how to apply our faith. Being on this journey is not just about believing. It must be followed by living out our faith. This book not only teaches us the WHAT of faith but also answers the question SO WHAT?

So where do we start? At the beginning is a good place. And that’s exactly what our writer does. Beginning in verse 3, our writer takes us back to the beginning of the world.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, just as he chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love. He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ … (Eph. 1:3-5, NRSV).

From the beginning, God gives us good news. Christ was chosen for us before the foundation of the whole world. And we were chosen to be members of his family – adopted in love before we even existed. Being chosen may not seem like much, but it gives us things we often don’t recognize we need – grace, redemption, and forgiveness, to name a few. And because God made this choice at the start, the boundaries that we set up to decide who are in and out of God’s purview – they are all artificial as far as God is concerned. Jesus came for everyone – for the whole world. All are invited to be a part of the beloved community.

The hope and will of God is that all will be included in the covenant. Our job is not to build fences and walls to keep people out, but bridges and bigger tables to draw God’s people together. This is God’s good pleasure, that as we receive the mystery of Christ to our realities, we also share it beyond our walls, beyond our own needs and wants. We who are included become the includers. We who are blessed become the blessers. This was the purpose for Christ coming at all, and now it is our purpose as well. Like the impact of a pebble dropped in a still pond or puddle, the ripples peel off from the center bringing transformation to a world so in need of the grace and love of Christ.

And on this journey, we are promised sustenance. We are not alone.

In him you also, when you had heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and had believed in him, were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit; this is the pledge of our inheritance toward redemption as God's own people, to the praise of his glory. (Ephesians 1:13-14 NRSV)

The journey of following Christ is one of discipleship – learning to be a disciple of Jesus. It is a life-long journey, one only completed as we are united with Christ in glory. This message is sometimes hard to accept. We want to get it right. We are depressed and disappointed when we make mistakes or stray from the life Jesus calls us to follow. The good news is that you don’t have to read very far in any of the gospel accounts to know that the disciples, the very ones Jesus called himself, were just like us. They didn’t get it right all the time – we could even say they spent more time confused than convicted. Hear this: Jesus isn’t asking us for perfection in our journeys. He is asking us for faithfulness. When we make a mistake, we admit to it and ask for forgiveness. When we make bad choices, we put those aside and choose something better. And to demonstrate that he believed in us, we are given the gift of the Holy Spirit – sealing the promises made to us in the covenant of our faith.

On Pentecost Sunday, we retold the story of the Holy Spirit coming as a mighty wind and tongues of fire on those gathered in the Upper Room. This same Spirit pushed them out of their safe place and into the market square, compelling them out of hiding and into the world. There they told the story of Jesus, and no matter where people were coming to Jerusalem from, they understood the testimony that Peter and the others gave, each in their own language. And thousands believed and were baptized that day, entering into life with one another in the ecclesia, the gathered community we now call church.

When we celebrate a baptism in church, we give thanks over the water, and perform a ritual where water is used to symbolize at least three things: the cleansing power of God’s grace, the refreshing of our souls like gardens thirsty for afternoon rain, and as if we are being rescued from drowning, we are taking
our next breath in a new life, forgiven of and free from the power that sin holds over us.

But we also do something else in that baptismal celebration. After the words of baptism in the name of the Triune God, we invoke the Holy Spirit, promising the baptized person the power to live faithfully the kind of life that water baptism signifies – a life committed to Jesus Christ, and striving to live out the love of God and neighbor in all we do. As the service ends, we recommit ourselves to the promises made at our baptisms, promising to be there for one another.

In her book, Searching for Sunday, Rachel Held Evans writes about the historic sacraments of the church as she moves from her conservative evangelical roots to a more emerging, liturgical expression of faith. As she begins to close out the book, she ponders what it means to be ecclesia – church. She reminds us that we are a gathering of citizens, called out from our individuality, our sins, from the way things have always been to participate in God’s new creation and in community with each other. She says this:

I’m not exactly sure how all this works, but I think, ultimately, it means I can’t be a Christian on my own. Like it or not, following Jesus is a group activity, something we’re supposed to do together. We might not always do it within the walls of the church or even in organized religion, but if we are to go about making disciples, confessing our sins, breaking bread, paying attention, and preaching the Word, we’re going to need one another. We’re going to need each other’s help.[i]

These next few weeks we will continue thinking about the lessons that this letter has to teach us. Here’s a hint: It is a call to make sure that we have the tools we need as we prepare to live faithfully. As much as anything, we are reminded that our faith is not an intellectual exercise or only about our personal relationship with Jesus. It’s also about living out that faith, day by day, in every situation and every relationship. Even so, we are blessed with the days that living out our faith begins with the celebration of the foundational belief that we are blessed no matter what our circumstances because we are adopted into the family of God. We belong – we all belong. And even better, we are not alone. We are a part of something bigger than ourselves. Even when we can’t see the whole picture, we are standing on hope.

I couldn’t have written a better hymn to sing after the sermon today than this one by Brian Wren (1973 – ELW #358). As you sing, really hear these words:

Great God, your love has called us here,
as we, by love, for love were made.
Your living likeness still we bear,
though marred, dishonored, disobeyed.
We come, with all our heart and mind
your call to hear, your love to find.

Great God, in Christ you call our name

and then receive us as your own,

not through some merit, right, or claim,

but by your gracious love alone.

We strain to glimpse your mercy seat

and find you kneeling at our feet.

Great God, in Christ you set us free

your life to live, your joy to share.

Give us your Spirit's liberty

turn from guilt and dull despair,

and offer all that faith can do

while love is making all things new. (

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Peace, Deb 

(c) Deb Luther Teagan July 2021

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Sermon prepared using resources from UMC Discipleship Resources – Sermon series on Ephesians, Geared Up For Life, by Derek Weber www.umcdiscipleship.org/worship-planning/geared-up-for-life

[i] Evans, Rachel Held. Searching for Sunday: Loving, Leaving, and Finding the Church (p. 273). Thomas Nelson. Kindle Edition.

Sermon - We Are Not Alone (Proper 9B)

6^th 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 4^th 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

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[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: 6^th Sunday After Pentecost (B) , www.umcdiscipleship.com

[viii] Lloyd Stone ad Georgia Harkness, 1934.

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

 5^th 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. 

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[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=

 

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

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[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)