Sermon - Conversion is more than belief (Easter 3C)

Most of my friends preached on the gospel passage, but Shawn and I spent the week before this sermon on the island nation of Malta, the very place where Paul was shipwrecked on his fourth missionary journey. Being immersed in the story of Paul, from conversion to execution, influenced me to abandon the sermon that I had started and to furiously jot down notes as we traveled to many of the places on Malta that have Paul's name. On our return Saturday, I compiles those various musings into this reflection on the difference between conversion and belief... 

4^th Sunday after Easter – Year C                                                April 10, 2016

Acts 9:1-20, John 21:1 20                         Panzer Liturgical Service, Stuttgart

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. [i]

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the Lord is unrelenting and reveals to Ananias in one brief sentence the nature of Saul’s call: He will bring the gospel to kings and Gentiles alike. And he will suffer for the sake of the gospel. In brief form, we learn what shape Paul’s ministry will take in the remaining chapters of Acts. Luke also reveals what is central to the gospel. The good news is expansive and broad. It reaches to the widest edges of the world seeking the lost, but God also turns to the powerful of the world and demands justice, grace, and peace. Yet this good news comes with a price, a price we must wonder if we are willing to embrace as Jesus’ disciples.[ii]

I think this story is important as a part of the Eastertide narrative because it reminds us that the story of salvation doesn’t end with the resurrection of Jesus, but because it is the beginning of our stories. Looking back, I can see the times when Jesus knocked my off my metaphorical horse and blinded me to the plans that I envisioned for myself and set me on a new path. And let me tell you, there were a lot of tears, a lot of blindness of not knowing what was going to happen next. And I’m sure you’re all tired of me saying this – but you could never have told me thirty or twenty years ago that this is where I would be living and serving and growing in faith.

I lift this story up to you to ask these important questions: How does this story give us a new imagination for what it means to live out our faith fully? Do we have zeal for the gospel of love and grace, or is our zeal for something else, like having other people believe exactly the same things we do? Is our zeal wholly committed to serving God’s people, or is it sometimes misdirected or even destructive? Are we pursuing a ministry grounded in love of people and the world as God intended them to be, or one that seeks to change people into our model of how we think people should behave.

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

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

When I became a member of the church, I took this vow: To confess Jesus Christ as Savior, put my whole trust in his grace, and promise to serve him as my Lord; with prayers, presence, gifts, service and witness. I was 12 – what did I know? I have spent the last 40+ years growing into those vows. And at various times in my life, I have had seen glimpses of what that kind of life – that kind of faith – really look like. And it’s glorious… it’s hard, but it’s glorious.

This process of conversion, of dedicating our lives to God and Christ, is ongoing and will not be completed until we are reunited with him in glory. God isn’t finished with any of us yet. God will keep working, sometimes gently calling, and other times knocking us out of our comfortable routines into something new and dangerous and life-giving. That’s not to say that we are called to be reckless, but if story of Paul’s conversion and indeed his whole ministry are any kind of example, they at least call us to reconsider whether God is calling us to live out faith from our comfort zones. Who knows when God will show up on your happy little road and turn your life completely around… and when it happens, how will you respond?

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

German pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer left a legacy of faith which amazes and frightens the most faithful Christian. After Hitler rose to power Bonhoeffer left his post at Union Theological Seminary in New York, and his new fiancee, to return to Germany. There he would eventually come to believe that Hitler’s could only be dealt with one way, and he would spend two years in prison for his part in an assassination plot.  He was executed at Flossenbürg concentration camp on April 9, 1945, just two weeks before the United States Army liberated the camp. When he died he famously remarked to another prisoner, "This is the end — but for me, the beginning."[iv]

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

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

Amen.

---

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

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

[iii] Robb McCoy and Erik Fistler, Pulpit Fiction http://www.pulpitfiction.us/show-notes/ep-10-a-moment-of-clarityor-easter-3c

[iv] https://sojo.net/articles/11-bonhoeffer-quotes-remember-pastor-who-resisted-evil-unto-death

[v] https://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/29333.Dietrich_Bonhoeffer

Sermon - Believing in the Resurrection - Easter (C)

Luke 24:1-12, 1 Corinthians 15:1-12
Panzer Liturgical Service

If you asked most people what their favorite holiday is, most would say Christmas. I’m sure everyone has a favorite childhood Christmas memory, and some as adults, too. Especially here in Germany, the Advent and Christmas seasons are as wonderful and over-the-top as you would ever want them to be, filled with beauty and joy, and celebrated with friends and family in wonderful ways.

But for the Christian church, the most important holiday is Easter. We have all heard the story – Jesus welcomed into Jerusalem as a conquering hero, only to be arrested, placed on trial and executed within the week. For three days, his followers believed that all was lost. But then the story turned.

Luke 24:1-12 (paraphrased) As the women of his group went to the tomb to prepare his body for its final rest, they were astonished and frightened to find that his body was nowhere to be found. Instead, the stone was rolled away and the cloths in which his body had be quickly wrapped on the Friday before were laying in a pile. Men in dazzling attire asked the ultimate rhetorical question: Why are you looking for the living among the dead? He is not here – because he promised that he wouldn’t be. And when the women went to tell the disciples the news, they didn’t believe them. Instead, Peter and probably others ran back to the tomb to see for themselves the new truth… “He is not here – he is risen.”

I can’t even tell you how many people have told me that the resurrection is the hardest part of the Jesus story. Since the mid-17th century, we have become a world where seeing is believing. Today we often hear that science and religion are in conflict with one another. But the father of modern science, Galileo Galilei, even though he was knocked down again and again by the Church, never lost faith in the God and in Jesus Christ.

 So if you are wondering how to reconcile your understanding of Jesus’ story with a world of scientific discovery, I ask you to consider hearing the story this way. The resurrection of Jesus is a miracle that is impossible to understand. We don’t know how it happened. But the real question is not about how, but why Jesus was raised from the dead. And to find an answer to that question, we have to look at the whole story.

 The bible is filled with amazing stories – sometimes like a crazy soap opera. Even so, it’s easy to think of the bible as a rule book or etiquette guide. But it’s really so much more than just that. It’s the story of God interacting with his creations for generations. And in this story, God tries everything he can think of to help us live in harmony with him and one another.

He creates this amazing garden – with everything that humanity would need to live a perfect life. But God also created us with personalities and the ability to make choices and decisions for ourselves. It was a risk, but without choice, he understood that it’s not really worship and what we have with him is not really a relationship.

And so when the first couple made bad choices, there were consequences. God was true to his word. But he also did not cut them off. He continued to be in relationship with his chosen people to share the good news of who God is, even when they turned their backs on Him. When they were unable to hear his voice, he called prophets who helped to call the people back to the Creator, or to explain to them why things had gone so horribly wrong.

But eventually, the old story played itself out. And a new story – a new savior – came into the picture. God turned the page and a made a personal appeal to the people he created… Come and follow me.

The world that Jesus was born into was not a model society. The Jews had been returned to the promised land from exile and slavery, but they were not in control. The Greeks and then the Romans were the powerbrokers of the day. The Jewish leaders were given some authority, in order to keep the religious sect in hand. These leaders were dedicated to keeping their own status high, often by crushing small rebellions that popped up. Messiahs were a dime a dozen. But Jesus was different from the ones who had come before.

The resurrection, and therefore our celebration of Easter, is a pivotal moment in God’s history. Every Sunday we reenact the belief that death does not have the last word over life. There are two passages which help me to cling to the resurrection story and believe in it even though I don’t always understand it. The first has to do with faith. The writer of Hebrews 11 says, “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen… By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible. (v1,3)” 

That means that we have to be willing to know something with our hearts and faith, even if we can’t fully understand it. Yes, that’s different than the world’s standards, but one that has proven true for billions of people throughout time. And it is a faith we can claim for ourselves… from examining the scriptures and church history, and from our experiences in worship and service to others. That doesn’t mean we blindly allow others to lead us in ways that we do not choose for ourselves. For me, it means knowing in my heart that while I do not always know what will happen in the future, I believe that God is present in that future, preparing me for that future and that future for me.

Today’s epistle lesson helps connect the Jesus story to the story of creation… just as Adam’s humanness makes us human, Jesus’ rising from the grave gives us the gift of new life, eternal life in him. But I also love what Paul says earlier in the letter, For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God…22 For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, 23 but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, 24 but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. 25 For God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.” (1 Corinthians 1:18, 22-25) 

It is not just that the resurrection doesn’t make sense, but also that Jesus, who is God, would die in the most horrific and shameful way known to humans of the day. In the end, faith is about believing in the wisdom of God, which might not make sense to the world, but trusting that God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.

So as we come together to celebrate this Easter day, I ask you to consider what the resurrection means to you. How does the gift of eternal life affect or change the way you live?

I have a friend whose job is absolutely necessary, but with an underwhelming title – expert in waste water management. It’s the kind of job you might not talk about in everyday conversation. But it has given him a lot of experience and he puts that to good use. He talks to people about how important water is to people. And every year he goes with other volunteers to Africa to help communities gain access to clean, safe water. He says that he has seen a new well actually breathe life back into a village and give them new hope... hope for crops, for freedom from disease, for ways to spend their time other than carrying water back from a water source, several times a day. What better way to take the life that God has given and use it for good!

Most of you know my story. I was raised in the church. I was confirmed at age 12, went to youth group every Sunday, attended church regularly in college and joined a local congregation when I started working after college.

 My path to a deeper and fully committed faith life came not as a result of the intellectual pursuit of knowledge, but through serving other people through mission projects and working with youth. These experiences changed me and helped me to understand that God was calling me in a direction I had never imagined. My life in ministry, both as a pastor and volunteer in local churches and military chapels, is exactly the kind of life that my understanding of Jesus’ resurrection calls me to lead. In 25 years of ministry and 21 years of life as a military spouse, I have moved 12 times. (Even for a United Methodist, this is excessive.)

But in every place, I have felt God drawing me into friendships and ministries that were so much better than I imagined. And in each place, I have learned more about what it means to live as a child of God, and how I am called to be present with and love people all along the way.

I come from a tradition that believes that grace is the best word to describe the nature of God and trajectory of our life with him. Romans 3:23 tells us “Since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.” 

Grace comes into our lives in many ways… in Covenant Grace as shared through the story of the Old Testament and promises made to our biblical ancestors, through Justifying Grace as we accept the gift of Jesus Christ into our own lives, and through Sanctifying Grace as we figure out what Jesus wants us to do with the new life gained through him, living out that grace in the world. Over time, I have realized that I am a new creation, but I am not a complete creation. God continues to work on me, bringing me closer to him, forgiving me and welcoming me home when I make mistakes or turn away.
For me, Easter is the best reminder that death does not have the final say – and that while we don’t know what this gift of eternal life will look like, it is a promise that we can count on. When I was a young Christian, I thought that Easter and resurrection were an insurance policy… I wanted my faith to protect me from struggles and hardships. I worried about following the rules, but day by day, that proved to be a daunting task. I could never do enough to earn the gift that Jesus gives, so I had to figure out what a life of faith should look like.

 Eventually I realized that Christ did not intend for our lives to be grounded in fear. Instead, he instructs us to live as reflections of his love and grace in the world. For me this means thinking of my coming to Christ not as a single moment in time, but by rededicating my life to Christ at many times, each time making a concerted effort to be faithful in all that I do. I can look back and see turning points when I came to a fork in the road, and was inspired to choose Christ all over again. I also look back and know that I have not always chosen well. I am so thankful that with the resurrection comes forgiveness and the chance for new beginnings. I love that no matter what, I get to choose Christ again and again, with the knowledge he always chooses each of us.

It is always my hope that people will hear the story of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection and see a place for themselves in his story. The journey of faith starts with one step…and continues with another and another, until one day, we are living a life we never imagined. For me, this means living a life defined by love.

Perhaps Mother Theresa has said it in a way that all of us can understand: “Not all of us can do great things, but we can do all things with great love.” 

This is what Easter and resurrection are all about.

Peace, Deb

(c) Deb Luther Teagan 2016

What does it mean to be safe?

Yesterday there was another bombing... this time in Brussels, Belgium. Soon, messages filled my Facebook page of friends checking in with one another, just to make sure that they weren't too close to the danger.

It seems that every week, or even more often, there is news of another bombing. We call them terror attacks because that is what they are designed to do... instill terror in the victims and interrupt the normal pace of life.

Just in the last three months, there have bombings in cities where I have stood... in Brussels, in Paris, and in Istanbul.  These places have given me the opportunity to learn new history, see amazing art, expand friendships and sometimes most importantly, eat wonderful food. And there have been attacks in the Middle East and Africa, all directed at places where people expect and deserve to be safe. Hundreds have been killed and many more have been injured.

I hope that I will never become immune to the pain that hearing about these tragedies brings to my heart. People that I don't know have been killed and wounded, and my heart aches for the reality that for many, life will never be the same. But I am also determined that these events will not cause me to life my life overwhelmed by fear. I can't think of anything more tragic that living in such a wonderful place and never feeling safe enough to explore all the sights and sounds and tastes that life in the here and now has to offer.

I am struck that these musings have come to me in the middle of Holy Week. As we approach the time of the betrayal of Jesus, his last supper with friends, his arrest, trial and execution, we are reminded that darkness comes, in spite of the goodness that God wants and plans for us. But I also know the rest of the story. Sunday is coming... as promised, darkness does not have the final word, but light and life come with the sunrise and change everything forever... and in ways we never could have ever imagined.

Somehow, all of this is related to the power that Easter has over my life. Fear is such a strong motivator, but it also robs us of the chance to change the world. I think about the people I have met who are so very different from me. Some are Christians, some are not, but each has helped to expand my understanding of what it means to be a friend and a neighbor. They give me hope that not everyone is looking out to harm me or the world around us, and that they will help me and protect me when I have a need for them to do so.

A friend in my village has told me several times about the days following the 9/11 attacks in the US in 2001. She had not had any contact with the American family living down the street from her family. There were lots of reasons... they spoke little to no German, and she believed her English was not so good... taking that first step toward friendship just seemed hard. But on the evening after, when it felt like there was the possibility of more evil, she and her husband walked down the street and invited this American family to park their car in their garage, in case US vehicles might be targeted for violence and vandalism in the night and days to come.

And it turns out that they weren't the only ones who offered. All over town, German families were parking their cars on the street to open their closed garages to stranger's cars. And in their fear and their grief, friendships were born.

And so back to the original question: What does it mean to be safe? For me, I wonder if that is even the right question anymore.

We have decided that safety does not mean staying home. Everywhere we go, we are cautious and careful and vigilant. We pay attention to crowds and traffic and listen to the advice given on how to travel with the utmost care. We don't draw unnecessary attention to ourselves at home or away - the other day I was unloading groceries and someone asked me for directions to a restaurant nearby and was surprised that I spoke German with an American accent - I consider that a victory!

But we are determined to not bury ourselves in our quiet little village (as wonderful as it is), but to continue to explore the world around us, expending our horizons and taking in all the new experiences we can, as safely as we can.

Never let it be said that I lived life so safely that I didn't take the opportunity to be challenged or grow or be changed by the experiences of a life well-lived.


Peace, Deb

I've added some links to articles which lead me to think I'm not the only one pondering what it means to live in the shadow of terror.

Driving to help others...
http://www.upworthy.com/after-the-brussels-attack-many-opened-their-homes-to-stuck-travelers-she-got-in-her-car?c=ufb1

Just keep living...
http://www.upworthy.com/president-obamas-great-response-to-why-he-went-to-a-baseball-game-after-a-terror-attack

Sermon - The God who welcomes us home (Lent 4C)

FOURTH SUNDAY OF LENT, YEAR C                                 March 6, 2016

2 Corinthians 5:17-21; Luke 15:11-32                       Panzer Liturgical Service

Today’s parable is the third in a series of stories Jesus told about being lost and being found.  The parable of the lost sheep and the lost coin are straight forward, at least for most of us. Each of us has some memory of story of turning the house upside down to look for something of value that we have misplaced. I think that one of the benefits of being in a state of constant moving is finding things we thought were gone forever, usually in the back of a drawer or under a piece of furniture.

But if you ask someone to name a parable, this along with the Good Samaritan, this is perhaps one of the best known stories from the New Testament. People of all ages recognize it as the parable of the Prodigal Son, probably because that’s how it is labeled in most of our bibles.  And because we know it so well, when we hear it, we begin to identify with at least one of the characters.  One person might say, "I am a youngest child, too, so I understand how this youngest child might want to get out of the shadow of that older brother and go out on his own."  Or maybe someone who was an oldest child might think, "Yea, the baby always gets the breaks.  My parents were never that easy with me."  Or maybe we even identify with the father, and really know the joy of homecoming and what it means to have what was broken made whole again.

Reconciliation.  In the New Common Lectionary, this passage appears with epistle and Old Testament passages that also speak of reconciliation – reconciliation between members of the family of God, and reconciliation between us and God.  And the parable contains several examples which highlight those understandings quite well. 

The younger son swallows his pride and comes home, willing to accept the shame he feels he deserves for his irresponsible behavior.  But instead of rejection, the son is welcomed, "with opened arms,” and we experience the father's joy and acceptance of his young son's homecoming as evidence of and a model for the kind of forgiveness that God and Christ call for us to model in our own lives.  We even see the father building a bridge between the two sons, attempting to reach a level of reconciliation between them, so that they might all be able to celebrate together. But this is more than a nice story about reconciliation. There is a lot more that this story has to teach us.

We call this the parable of the prodigal son. So first we must define the word prodigal.  Webster’s Dictionary says that it spending money or using resources freely and recklessly; wastefully extravagant. This definition encompasses all of the negative understandings we have about the younger son and his behavior. We look at the younger son and especially if we are oldest children, it brings back many of the memories we have about our younger siblings and our perceptions about how we grew up. 

But the word prodigal also means, having or giving something on a lavish scale. This definition takes away the negative feelings we have about the younger son and brings into light the amazing gift of love that the father was sharing with both sons.

Jesus tells a story of a younger son coming home to open arms, with the father throwing a celebration dinner in his honor.  And as expected, the older son, and probably many listening to Jesus tell the story, was really incensed.  Can't you just hear them talking in the background "This is not fair. Look at all the stupid things he’s done and the father just welcomes him back... with open arms, and then throws a party as if none of it ever happened. Can you believe it?"

Whether we want to admit it or not, we feel some of those same things. When we see ourselves as the hard workers and others as getting something for nothing, it’s hard not to get mad. It’s hard not to hold resentment for others in our hearts and in the way we live out our faith daily.[1]

I have been studying this parable for a while and I have starting looking at this story with new eyes. The younger son gave up the life he had to find his own way, but through wasteful spending and living, he lost everything of value, except the belief that his father would not send him away if he came back. The older son stayed home and took care of business. He didn’t understand that while the younger brother might not have a place in the family business, he would always have a place in the father’s heart.

This is not just a story of prodigal sons who wasted family assets and threw away family relationships. This is also a story of a prodigal father, who loved extravagantly, welcoming home a lost son and encouraging a faithful son to become a united family again, no matter what happened in the past.

Philip Yancey tells a story about a young girl from Traverse City, MI. She has an ongoing battle with her parents about the clothes she wears and the company she keeps. She finally runs away makes it as far as Detroit. Her second day, she meets a man who offers her a ride, buys her lunch and promises her a safe place to stay. He gives her some pills to make her feel better, and you can imagine the rest of the story. For a little more than a year, her life is pretty good, except for the men who visit nightly. But when she gets sick, the man she has come to depend on takes her away from her comfortable surroundings and leaves her on the street with just the clothes on her back and without penny to her name.

As winter approaches, she finds herself sleeping on the grates outside a large department store, with one eye open to those who might want to do her harm. One morning she wakes up and realizes that at least if she went home, someone would feel obligated to help her out. So she leaves a message on her parent’s voicemail that she will be arriving on the bus that night, and if no one is there to meet her, she will just keep going to Canada.

As the bus approaches Traverse City, Cherry Capital of the World, she is afraid. And as the bus turned the corner, she is overwhelmed to see every relative she has - parents, sibling, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, wearing goofy party hats and holding signs proclaiming, “Welcome Home” and “We’ve missed you!”

She starts to share with her dad all the things she has been thinking of on the bus, but he just wraps her up in his arms and says, “No time for that now – you don’t want to be late for your party – we can’t believe you’re finally back home.”[2]

The God we worship is a generous, prodigal God.  One who forgives our sins, who stands with us in our joy, and holds us up in the midst of our pain.  But we have to remember that God did not just forgive my sin, or your sin, but also the sin of those who, to us, seem unforgivable.  Our God is not an either/or God, but is a both/and God. And even beginning to understand the scope of God's love and forgiveness helps us to know God in a new and deeper way.  And in the process, we learn a very important lesson — that however much we may want to, we cannot draw the lines which define how God's grace is going to operate.  God will be whom God will be.

Paul talks about this in his second letter to the Corinthians.  In Christ, we are a new creation, and we are called to make peace with those who were previously our enemies. Love is now the pattern for our living. God doesn’t hold our sins against us, and that is how God is calling us to live toward others (and ourselves). We are ambassadors for Christ. We are called to make an appeal to others – to reconcile ourselves to them and bring them into the family of God.

John Newton was right.  God's grace is amazing, and not only saves us from our sin, but saves us from ourselves. 

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost, but now am found; was blind, but now I see.

Through many dangers, toils, and snares, I have already come;

‘Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home.

Jesus doesn’t give us parables to teach us how to live. He gave them to correct our notions about who God is and who God loves.[3] Whomever we identify with in this story, from whatever slant we read it, in its entirety, this parable tells us who we are as God’s children, and who God is as Parent of us all.  This is not just a parable about reconciliation.  It is also a parable about the Kingdom of God.

A man had two sons, and one went away and made a lot of mistakes, and one stayed home and was faithful.  And when the one who went away came home in disgrace, the father loved him and celebrated his return.  And when the one who stayed home was upset, the father reminded him that his love is big enough to love both of them, and that homecoming is worth all the celebration in the world. Let us be thankful for a God who always welcome us home.

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(c) Deb Luther Teagan 2016

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[1] Debie Thomas, Letters to Prodigals, Journey With Jesus (2/28/2016) http://journeywithjesus.net/essays/856-letters-to-prodigals

[2] Philip Yancey, What’s So Amazing About Grace, 1997, pp 50-51.

[3] Ibid, p 53.  
See also David Lose, The Prodigal God, ...In the Meantime (2/28/2016) http://www.davidlose.net/2016/02/lent-4-c-the-prodigal-god/

A modest attempt at practicing what I preach

I actually started writing this on the flight home, as we prepare to land in Amsterdam. It was a good trip and I'm so glad I followed my heart and took a couple of weeks with my family and friends in SC. On Sunday I had the opportunity to preach at the church where I was confirmed. There were a few people who remembered me, but even the ones who didn't were incredibly gracious in their response to my message.

It was never my intention to address the political climate surrounding the presidential primary the day before, but several people expressed gratitude for a message that challenged the current "all or nothing" agenda that seems to be so popular these days. (I had originally included a whole "bridges versus walls" section but rethought that pretty quickly... thinking Pope vs Trump.)

Instead, I shared the experience of a clergy friend inviting a man to join her at her table in a crowded Panera. And I asked people to consider welcoming a stranger on the off chance of making a new friend.

Little did I know that I would have that same opportunity as soon as I boarded my second flight of the day. When I arrived on board, i found myself face to face with a small, elderly woman who spoke absolutely no English.

This left me expecting a quiet flight, but it's amazing how much you can communicate without words. From helping her with the seat belt to figuring out how to work the entertainment system, we managed to share a few precious moments.

It did not take long to figure out that she was Russian (newspaper clue), but she confirmed that by pointing to several places on the map... Flying to Amsterdam, then Moscow, then on to Siberia.... and I thought my trip was long!

We found the game center and she showed me how to do sudoku - I'm terrible - and I eventually figured out there were a bunch of movies that were dubbed in Russian (she picked Lincoln - bold choice). I shared yummy cheese straws, she shared dark chocolate covered almonds, we laughed over spilling Asian Chicken entrees on our amble bosoms, and slept side by side as comfortably as you can in coach.

As we prepared to deplane, she reached over and squeezed my hand with a big smile. Like my friend Monica, I made a new friend, but this time using only smiles, hand gestures and pointing.

When the plans in our minds don't match our expectations, it's easy to get annoyed or feel disappointed. All I had to do was think of how I would want someone to treat me if I was in her shoes and the rest came easy.

All of this counterbalances the annoyance I felt toward the guy behind me who kept pushing on my seat all night and my eye roll at the herd of high school students that held up my line at passport control... apparently I'm a work in progress.

Now where is the cappuccino?

Peace, Deb

(c) Deb Luther Teagan 2016

Sermon - Press on Toward Jesus' Call (Lent 2C)

 Philippians 3:17-4:1           St Paul UMC, Spartanburg, SC              February 21, 2016 

Some of you knew me when I was young. In 1971, I was  confirmed in this congregation, back when Poston Hall was the church. After I graduated from Clemson, I settled in Anderson and worked as a blood bank technologist at the hospital there. I joined a small UMC congregation in Wild Hog, near Pendleton, and with a group of youth and other volunteers, spent my summers immersed in the Salkehatchie Summer Service community. 

Eventually I heard the call, first as a Lay Speaker, then as a candidate for ordained ministry. My years at Duke were wonderful for expanding my knowledge and growing my faith. In 1993, I was ordained as a Elder in the South Carolina Conference. I thought that might be the most exciting thing that would ever happen to me. And then I met this tall, handsome Air Force pilot and life was really never the same.  In 1995, we got married with the belief that we could serve God better together than apart. 21 years later, we still think that's true, but there have been some detours and bumps along the way. 

When we moved to Stuttgart, Germany in 2014, this was our 11th military move. I am amazed at the places and ways I have been able to serve God and the church, both thru appointment and as a volunteer. But there was a particularly difficult period in my life during out third Air Force move. In Illinois and North Dakota, I was able to secure appointments, but in New Jersey, that didn't work out. For the first time in my adult life, I was not earning a paycheck. I was not a leader in a congregation, The only way that people knew me was someone's wife, and as great as that is, it didn't feel like enough. 

Sundays came and I didn't want to go to church. In hindsight, I realize that I was angry with God and maybe even with my husband that my call to ministry had been interrupted. And then on one gorgeous September morning, the world went absolutely crazy, and only 90 miles away from our base, the events of 9/11 unfolded before us.  

Within a few minutes, my neighbors and new friends were calling me to ask me important questions of faith. "How could God let this happen?" "What do I tell my children?" and "Where do we go from here?" When we planned a neighborhood prayer meeting, they looked to me for guidance. And when this  group turned into a weekly bible study, I realized that this was my next call. God hadn't made a mistake at all, It just took a little longer than I hoped to figure out what would come next.

It's so very easy to get caught our ideas and preconceived notions about what our lives should look like. Are we going to the right schools? Have we chosen the right careers? We want the perfect house in the best neighborhood with the most amazing car sitting in our three car garage with our amazing kids by our sides. 

None of these things are wrong in and of themselves but this part of Paul's letter reminds us that what people see us doing speaks volumes about who we are. We can say that we are Christian, reciting scripture left and right, but if we are not living out the Good News every day, the power of the that proclamation is lost. Being a Christian is more that just claiming Christ. It's about becoming more like Christ through actions, words and works which point to Jesus. 

Paul's letter to the Philippians was written to help them stand fast and grow in the midst of a worldly, secularized culture. Paul wanted them to understand that there was really nothing simple or easy about imitating Christ. In this letter, he brings forward many suggestions for living faithfully in Christ, but I wanted to highlight a couple of ways this passage helps us understand what that means. 

First, the life of faith is a life of transformation. We have to be willing to grow into our faith. Our Methodist roots are especially helpful here. John Wesley claimed to be a Christian long before he had a personal experience of faith. We celebrate May 24th as Aldersgate Day, when Wesley's heart was "strangely warmed" at the notion that Jesus didn't just die for the whole world, but for each one of us individually. The rest of his ministry was focused on first helping people turn to Christ, and then growing into their faith by intentional discipleship.  

If you play a musical instrument, you have to practice in order to get better. If you want to be a better cook or a better athlete or a better parent, you are only able to do that if you keep working to make progress toward perfection. The same is true for the life of faith. Paul calls that "pressing on." Choosing Jesus is easy. Living a life of faithful discipleship is hard.  

Second, Wesley encouraged, even demanded, that people participate in the ongoing process of sanctification. Among those activities were bible study, enthusiastic worship, Christian conversation, and service to those in need. The practice of accountability was one of the key features of his model of Christian practice, the Class Meeting. Our willingness to confess our shortcomings is just as important (or maybe even more so) as our willingness to proclaim Jesus as our Lord and savior. It is in the development of Christian friendships and the sharing of our joys and our failings that we are able to see how and where God is calling us to live and serve.  

You may have heard that Wesley taught on the subject of Christian Perfection. We get it wrong if we thing that Wesley was expecting that we would live perfectly. We all make mistakes and bad choices many times a day. But going on toward perfection is not about never breaking the rules. It's about loving God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength, and loving our neighbor as ourselves (Mark 12:28-31). Really, living on to perfection is about growing in faith so that we can become "whole" - and more fully the people that God created us to be.i 

The third way Paul challenges the Philippians is to meet people where they are, not where we want them to be. The Gentile converts in Philippi were being required to follow Jewish dietary laws, of which Paul was highly critical (See Act 15). Instead of placing extraordinary burden on those around us, he calls us to be imitators of him and of Christ in our relationships with those around us. Sometimes this means hanging out with people and in places that make us uncomfortable. If Salkehatchie taught me nothing else, it's that God is most real and present in those places.  

No where is the world's migrant crisis felt more accurately than in Germany. Of the 1 million people escaping war through Europe in 2015, over 750,000 of them sought asylum there. Resources are certainly taxed, and there have been some instances where folks have had difficulty assimilating into the uber-structured society. But I am constantly amazed at the willingness of the German people to help these families and individuals make new lives and homes there. And the church is playing a pivotal role in that happening.  

In addition to the ministries of the Evangelische (Lutheran) and Roman Catholic Churches in Germany, the United Methodist Church is working to incorporate migrants into the life of the community and the life of the church. Interestingly, both the Lutheran and Methodist denominations in Germany have chosen to take a friendship approach to ministry, not a salvation approach. And a year in to the process, many churches are reporting an increase in the number of unchurched migrants asking how to have a relationship with Christ because to the gift of hospitality freely offered.ii 

I take my identity documentation very seriously. For the last 21 years, I have carried a card identifying me as a dependent of a member of the US Armed Forces. On any given day, I may be asked to show this card between 3 and 8 times, depending on where I am going and what services I require. I have a US and a European driver's license. And because I live outside the boundary of US borders, on most days I travel with not one, but two US passports. The first one gives me permission to live in Germany as a sponsored foreign resident. The second passport is my tourist passport, allowing me to travel outside of German and broaden my understanding of the world and what it means to see someone as a neighbor.  

But however important my US citizenship and documentation are, they don't tell anyone anything about what kind of person I am. Even the things I say about myself paint only a partial picture. More than anything, people know me by the way I behave, and whether the things I say about who I am match the way I live.  

We are never too far from redemption. God is waiting for us, even seeking us, to follow him down the road. He is not only waiting for us to turn to him like a father sitting by the door after a long absence, but God is actively pursuing us and present with us along the road – remember the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13-35). When we look through his eyes at the world around us, we see all the ways that we can be the hands and feets and voice of Christ's love in the world.iii 

As Christians, we are called to be imitators of Christ. That means taking the words he said and the lessons he taught seriously and in the context of how they were delivered. Prosperity gospel says that if we do good things, then we will be rewarded with blessings – money, power and good health. Pushed to its furthest limits, this miscalculation assumes that if we are poor, powerless or sick, we have done something to displease God. Time and again I hear people confess that they thought the becoming a Christian would make their lives easier, but instead it often makes it harder. 

But if you look at Jesus' life, you will see at best an itinerant preacher, who depended solely on others for places to sleep, food and even the clothes on his back. He hung out with those who lived on the fringes of society – even outcasts could look to Jesus for a helping hand and a ready declaration of God's love for them. We look at people who lived out their Christian calling in those places with those people and we call them saints. But sainthood isn't about being the one who sacrifices the most. It's really about being the one who sacrifices at all, and who is willing to be neighbor to anyone who is in need. It's about meeting people who may be very different from us where they are, and knowing that God will is already working in their lives, often through us. Hopefully, we notice and act appropriately.  

I leave you with this story of what it might look like to press on and take a stand for Jesus. My friend Monica is a pastor in Northern Virginia. She posted this on Facebook yesterday. "Just did something completely un-American. While sitting at a two-top table in Panera, I saw a gentleman walking around with his tray looking for a place to sit. I noticed he did not want to take up a big table, so I offered him a seat at my table. After finishing up the email I was working on, I shut my laptop and engaged in small talk. 30 minutes later, I am grateful to have a new friend...When we don't let language differences, cultural differences, or fear get in the way, we are likely to find friends and neighbors all over the place. So, next time you are sitting alone in a coffee shop or restaurant, go ahead and invite the 'stranger' to sit with you. Who knows? You might wind up with a new friend, a new perspective, or even an invite to the family's house for tea." 

This is our challenge, to build bridges when it feels more natural to put up a wall. But Paul reminds us to keep our eyes on the prize, press on and stand firm in the Christ... if that isn't a lifetime's work, I don't know what is. 

Amen. 

Peace, Deb

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 i http://wesley.nnu.edu/john-wesley/a-plain-account-of-christian-perfection

ii http://www.umc.org/news-and-media/how-a-church-overcomes-hostility-to-christianity, also http://www.umc.org/how-we-serve/german-bishop-on-migrants-meet-people-not-problems and http://www.umc.org/how-we-serve/united-methodists-in-germany-welcome-refugees 

iii Joseph Yoo, WHEN YOU REALLY WANT TO WEAR A MASK TO CHURCH, Ministry Matters, 2/15/2016 (http://www.ministrymatters.com/)